Scene on the Street

As I’ve mentioned, living the life of a shut-in is perfectly fine with me, but even so, occasionally I must brave the outside world, cause them eclairs are not going to walk over here from the bakery.   That’s when the charm of San Francisco’s vibrant street life once again smacks me in the face.

Herewith, my life outside:

On Gay Pride day, the Gay Marching Band of San Francisco dropped by outside my window to serenade the cat.  He was unimpressed. Hard to blame him, it was difficult to make out what exactly they were playing, but whatever it was, they were playing it with plenty of verve.

Also celebrating Pride was this guy, who runs likes this ALL THE TIME, but who had dyed his hair pink for the occasion.  How he is not dragged off and accosted on a daily basis is beyond me.  Probably a lack of local initiative.  Although, maybe he IS dragged off and accosted daily and that’s what keeps him running through the hood.

The view out of the stairwell exit for my building, with all the churches here about.  In fact, the street at the end of the block is named Church Street.  This photo includes the Greek Orthodox, the Basilica of Mission San Francisco de Asís (which is the original mission that established San Francisco,) part of the roof of the Mission, and St Matthews Lutheran Church.  This place is just crowded with houses for various and sundry lords.

 

Even as San Francisco’s gay neighborhood, the Castro, is sanitized and memorialized as a kind of diorama of its sexual outlaw history, occasionally the old spirit will rear its defiant head, such as in this charming graffiti of Divine.

Imagine my annoyance when, a few weeks later, I saw the image had been defaced.  And by whom?  Ranting homophobes?  Nope.  Drag queens posting bills advertising their upcoming shows, that’s who.  How could a self respecting drag queen fuck up such a charming picture of the legend herself?  Have they no sense of their own fucking history?   No wonder I brood too much.

Also, some cute street side mens discovered here and there on the great internet.

All those muscles and not enough brains to figure out the reason his bike won’t go is the two flat tires it’s equipped with.  Sweetie, there is no app that will help you with that.

Nothing flat with this boy, except, I’m sure, his abs.

The astonishing and enthusiastic David Zongoli.