Here we are at the Phoenix club. Little did I know that Toronto had such talented whistlers. During the song "El Gatillo," Martin's whistle melody is matched with a wild chorus.
The crowd is a raucous and rowdy bunch. The night keeps spinning faster
and faster. Even though it's a Tuesday night, it feels like we've
struck the heart of that Friday night feel. Thanks to Leslie and Craig
taking good care of us.
After the show I head to the Dakota
Tavern for some Guinness and rubbing elbows with the locals. I walk out
of the bar with snowflakes falling and a copy of Michael Ondaatje's Coming Through Slaughter under my arm.

Where Have All The Weird Girls Gone?…

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