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.
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.