A Hotel in California

My son was in his first talent show, where he played “Hotel California,” if you’re at all interested in hearing him play/sing another song.


The Firecracker likes to do things like go on scavenger hunts so she arranged for one for the four of us to do – me, her, my kid, and her kid.

So early on a Saturday morning, we went off to try our hand at it.

Unfortunately, neither boy was really into it and the weather was pretty lousy – rainy, cold, and grey – so after a few hours, we called it.

Although, not before the kids managed to find a playground to play a little.

As for me, I found something to keep my interest.

Me: You don’t see that very often in Manhattan anymore.
Her: What?
Me: An ivy-covered building.

It was good that we ended early, though. Because my kid had his first talent show later on that day.

The person organizing the event has known my son since he was only 18 months old and had wanted him to sing and play the guitar the year before but he didn’t want to, and I didn’t wanna force him.

But this year, he said he wanted to do it – despite having a good friend’s birthday party to go to at the same time.

Now, much as I enjoyed my son’s rendition of 7 Years, he’s spent the last month or so practicing for his school’s talent show, where he was the second act outta maybe 30 something.

He wanted to sing Hotel California by the Eagles.

The crowd thought he did a pretty good job.

What do you think?

Told him that I was super proud of him – he’s only 8 but is calmer in front of an audience than I am, and certainly far more talented – and I told him he could have anything he wanted for dinner.

Oddly, he wanted to go to the local bar we went to before with the dark past.

But a promise is a promise so off we went.

Him: Did you really think I did a good job?
Me: Definitely. It was pretty clear to everyone that you practiced hard. But the most important thing is, do you think you did a good job?
Him: (thinking) Yes? People were clapping along.
Me: They were. Are you proud of yourself?
Him: Yes!
Me: Good! Because that’s the most important thing.

Location: A hotel in California, actually. Le Méridien Delfina Santa Monica to be exact.
Mood: headachy
Music: We are all just prisoners here, of our own device (Spotify)
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