There's a light on in Chicago and I know I should be home

My favorite rockstar just became my new favorite blogger. I can never get enough and it's about time there was something to indulge in on these late nights when work is sparse and I've had enough live music and drinking in the past two weeks to do me good for awhile. I don't know how I got so lucky, but right when I began bitching that all the good blogs were gone, I found just what I was looking for.
A little over two years ago my friends and I began a tradition. We had a vibrant living area with one brightly painted red wall, a large red couch and red chair that always made me wish a tiny blue dog would jump on it. It all started when I made a lucky trip to the mall and found a rare treasure at a not so frequently visited record store. As much as I adore your voice with an acoustic guitar and treasure that small collection of heaven in my ears, it is indeed the bonus video footage that made me fall head over heels. Night after night when I was finished galavanting around town passing out free ink pens and sticky notes for a lite rock radio station, I'd come home and rest my feet and pop you in. All four of you. I'd skip straight to the live section. You probably expect this to be some large scale arena show taped to make a few bucks off of a DVD sale, but you'd be wrong. Instead I watched 4 songs over and over and over and over again. 4 kids, on the verge of being emo enough to start a trend revolution, playing in a living room with their friends within arms reach surrounding them on all sides singing every word and banging out every drum beat on their thighs. It was the epitome of the show that you all really want to attend. For all I know, they were paid to be there, but they surely knew every fucking word that was sung and as far as I could tell, these kids loved this band! Every night, for months, I escaped from my world and felt like I was there in this little Chicago apartment being a part of what I recognize as a moment in music history. In this town a band was born. Now, you all either love them or hate them. But, I could never turn my back for anything. I'm in too deep.

Every night when I watched it, I turned it up a little louder and my roommates hated me a little more. I only turned it up to drown out the sounds of my heart beat. I wanted to be there so bad. I wanted my favorite band to play in my living room. A few months later that red living room that I sat in every night was rearranged. We brought in a PA, some IKEA lighting, a few candles and a few six packs. We also brought in a man with a large beard to play guitar and sing into a mic that was on the wrong type of stand. On a breezy spring night in April 2006 Red Hot Room opened for business. We never made a penny, but surely paid ourselves in memories.

Looking back on it now, having that lucky find in a record store caused so much more than a few tears when I listened to those acoustic tracks or engulfed myself in that DVD. Finding that tiny gem was the catalyst for this entire project. Yes, The One Love. Both the friendships formed between the people living in that apartment and the amazing artists that took the "stage" in our dining room led to the bonds that formed The One Love. These people are a part of my every day life now, but I can guarantee you that when four of our very own bloggers plugged in, in my living quarters, I felt like I had the world at my fingertips.
Not to mention, it's not a secret to anyone that the business mind of one particular bassist and entrepreneur who played in that tiny hard wood room filmed for that DVD was exactly the inspiration I needed to take the passion and love of my friends and guide it into the form which is now this site. Yes, I copied you. I'm not saying I made it better, but I made it our own.

Thank you to a large cat in the urban jungle, an italian ice cream parlor and the man who makes my heart beat to his beats like no other. I think I'll take a visit to your landmark. It's my Abbey Road.