Hard Rock Hotel

Until I checked in, I thought the name of the place was an affectation, but it is actually attached to a Hard Rock Cafe, in San Diego.  They play bad and overly loud rock music in the lobby.  The front desk is usually unmanned.  The concierge looks and dresses like a 1970s hippie Deadhead.  There are guitars on the wall.  The bed is extremely comfortable.

Job candidates: you need a room key to work the elevator, so if you are coming here for an interview tomorrow a) I am leaving your name at the front desk, hoping it will be manned and they will help you, b) you can try to find someone else taking an elevator up, and c) you can call up and/or email.  In any case please give yourself a little extra time, our apologies.  I promise not to ask if you have brought your demo tape to the interview, even though I will be tempted to do so.

Addendum: It’s funny how many people are tweeting and emailing me that I don’t like San Diego.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  I like it fine and I have come here repeatedly over the years.  The area where I have chosen to live and work — northern Virginia — also could be described as lacking in cultural importance for the broader United States and indeed the world.  And yet I chose it and prefer to stay there.  The whole point of public goods is that they spread far and wide!  Most generally, “reporting a fact or opinion which lowers the perceived relative status of X” does not translate into “source does not like X.”  This is closely related to the fallacy of mood affiliation.  One can have multiple moods about both San Diego and northern Virginia, namely something like “wonderful amenities and lifestyle, but culturally not nearly as impressive as the historical record of Kansas City.”  But when choosing whether or not to visit or live in Indiana, that Cole Porter was from there is really not much of a factor.  That all said, I’ll belatedly give San Diego credit for Roger Reynolds.


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