The Commodore Hotel

S and I are going out of town in a couple of weeks and last night we had to decide where to stay. I have a friend who's pretty high up in the Hotel and Restaurant Employees' Union and he had sent me a list of union hotels, so we were comparing them on all the logical criteria: cost, location, pictures of the bar. Then S played me this song, and by the second bar I knew we'd be staying at the Commodore Hotel. (If that doesn't make your face start smiling and your head start bobbing, you were not a cognizant white person in the 70s. And don't talk to me about CBGB--I'm sure Lowell George makes Jonathan Richman, Patti Smith, and David Byrne bob their heads too.)