On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair SharkBoy and I hit the corner of Gerrard and Woodbine and stand in front of the TTC stop, waiting for the streetcar. With us is a well dress couple who, probably like us, are coming home from a seasonal house party.<\/p>\n Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light The stop is just outside a divey bar – the kind that generally fills up when a major sports event or end-of-the-month cheques come out.<\/p>\n I had to stop for the night The four of us are doing little dances to keep warm.<\/p>\n I heard the mission bell<\/em><\/p>\n The woman of the other couple notices a solo guy standing in the front window of the bar. He’s holding a mike and staring at a karaoke machine. The monitor is showing the next song, but the musical lead in is really long. We should totally sing this, the woman says.<\/p>\n And I was thinking to myself, We start to sing like it’s Xmas. I haven’t heard this song since my high school days (it reminds me of drunk cottage parties) and I’m amazed at how I stumble over the quick lyrics.<\/p>\n Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way We sing the song, add some falsetto harmonies and the odd comment (“Any time of year, you can drink a beer!”). The song ends and we applaud and get a nod from the singer. As if on cue the street car comes. We say nothing else to each other as we board the car, the awkward Toronto attitude killing any further conversation, falling like a curtain. Moment over.<\/p>\n Welcome to the hotel california On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air SharkBoy and I hit the corner of Gerrard and Woodbine and stand in front of the TTC stop, waiting for the streetcar. With us is a well dress couple who, probably like us, are coming home […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":430,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":""},"categories":[3],"tags":[1760,1773,1776,1775,1763,1769,1771,1766,1774,1767,430,1765,1762,1768,1770,1654,1777,1764,1761,1772],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9WjY-1ml","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5229"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/430"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=5229"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/5229\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=5229"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=5229"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.deadrobot.com\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=5229"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}
\nWarm smell of colitas, rising up through the air<\/em><\/p>\n
\nMy head grew heavy and my sight grew dim<\/em><\/p>\n
\nThere she stood in the doorway;<\/em><\/p>\n
\nthis could be heaven or this could be hell<\/em><\/p>\n
\nThere were voices down the corridor,
\nI thought I heard them say…<\/em><\/p>\n
\nSuch a lovely place
\nSuch a lovely face
\nPlenty of room at the hotel california
\nAny time of year, you can find it here<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"