I'd like to talk about Hotel California by the Eagles.


On a dark desert highway, cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of colitas, rising up through the air
Up ahead in the distance, I saw a shimmering light
My head grew heavy and my sight grew dim
I had to stop for the night

There she stood in the doorway
I heard the mission bell
And I was thinking to myself
"This could be Heaven or this could be Hell"
Then she lit up a candle and she showed me the way
There were voices down the corridor
I thought I heard them say

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
Plenty of room at the Hotel California
Any time of year
You can find it here

Her mind is Tiffany-twisted, she got the Mercedes bends
She got a lot of pretty, pretty boys that she calls friends
How they dance in the courtyard, sweet summer sweat
Some dance to remember, some dance to forget

So I called up the Captain
"Please, bring me my wine"
He said, "We haven't had that spirit here since nineteen-sixty-nine"
And still those voices are calling from far away
Wake you up in the middle of the night
Just to hear them say

Welcome to the Hotel California
Such a lovely place
Such a lovely face
They livin' it up at the Hotel California
What a nice surprise
Bring your alibis

Mirrors on the ceiling
The pink champagne on ice
And she said, "We are all just prisoners here of our own device"
And in the master's chambers
They gathered for the feast
They stab it with their steely knives
But they just can't kill the beast

Last thing I remember, I was
Running for the door
I had to find the passage back
To the place I was before
"Relax", said the night man
"We are programmed to receive
You can check out any time you like
but you can never leave" . . .


I imagine that the first time I heard this song was sometime in the first ten years of my life, but the first time I really heard it was when I was just newly a teenager, around the age of thirteen or fourteen.

In some ways I think it's fair to say that Hotel California was the beginning of my obsession with California itself. The images it painted for my adolescent mind, already turned on to horror, fantasy, and weird fiction as I was, were truly enchanting; I could imagine this place, the Hotel California, as a place of violence, imprisonment, seduction, and ruination.

I wonder what it says about me that I found that alluring - or about California that I can see how those ideas apply to the state?

The Eagles turned out to be the band I would see at my first ever concert, on their "Hell Freezes Over" reunion tour. They were supported by Melissa Etheridge, who was possibly playing to the wrong crowd; I felt very bad for her when she played Bring Me Some Water and felt the need to implore the crowd "Come on, you guys, this was my hit!" in the middle of the song. I enjoyed it, anyway, even if the greying multitudes in the Sydney Cricket Ground around me didn't.

Some geeks found their first real taste of fantasy in The Lord of the Rings . . . I found mine, a different kind of fantasy, in a place where you can check out but you can never leave.