and I'm back

I popped out to the Castro for lunch. It seems the City is in holiday limbo between Christmas and New Year's. It is eerily quiet. Enough that it's freaking me out.

Walking down Castro toward Harvey's, I waived at a friend approaching and passing on the sidewalk with his headphones plugged into his iPhone, clearly in an animated conversation. I was surprised when he stopped mid-sentence to remove his ear buds and hugged me.

"Oh how nice! I thought you were on the phone."
"No, lip syncing. Show tonight."

And all at once I am home.

I missed you too San Francisco.

Legacy

Thirty years.


And we've come a lifetime.

the Doctor is out.

Castro Street Fair 2013

I returned to country dancing with a bit too much gusto: all-day, boots, 90°, and brutal sunshine. And forgot to take water breaks, just cocktail breaks. Ow.

But another splendid day. I regret missing out on HSB, but I just can't miss out on the Castro Street Fair.


Except this year there were additional "dance" stages. I was so offended by the one set up at Diamond on 18th because it was so offensively booming loud with no melodies just bass and it prohibited conversation even three-blocks away. Honestly, if I had property anywhere on that block I would be concerned over structural damage. There is no way that noise level was remotely within legal limits. I could see glass panes shaking in the houses.

And yes, it was ever so popular too, not that anyone could survive within 20 feet:


My friends in Nashville were texting me from the Titan's game, and I messaged back my Titan's solidarity, with a decidedly Castro twist.


Love too to Miss Purdy Poppins and the clearly kissable Musbach.

What happened to 80s night?!

I don't think you can call it "Oldies" if you were able to download it on Napster when it came out.

Day of Decision

The rallies/celebrations in the Castro the evening of the court rulings were pretty amazing. I am sort of done with speeches, and still have a pretty narrow margin for "too many people," but Wednesday night was a celebration of community, inclusion, success, love, friendship, and family.






Months ago I had gotten tickets to a Young ACT play to bring some friends together, and instead we canceled theater night and enjoyed some early evening sunshine and hugs on Castro Street (after settling down from the Muni rage) and then celebrated with a lovely dinner beyond the periphery of the masses at Mama's Ji's. Turns out the dim sum is really just for the day and it's larger entrées at night. Seasoned with chilies containing molten lava, Dear GOD that stuff's hot. Kevin turned an alarming shade of red as rivulets of sweat ran down his face. After dinner, we celebrated in the streets with the other celebratory San Franciscans.






The Day of Decision celebrations were what Pink Saturday used to be: community-based, a celebration, good behavior, and happy smiles on old friends embracing each other. As if a wedding were a block party and everyone was the bride. I miss that about Pink Saturday.

And the open containers.

Special note: Many thanks to the SFPD, whose officers were exceptionally polite and efficient, kept everyone safe, and did not insert or forcibly alter reasonable celebration. As long as it was wrapped in paper and the imbibers were well-behaved, open containers were ignored. (I think the middle-aged nature of the crowd may have had something to do with the relatively responsible behavior of the mass. Typically, a crowd celebrating marriage quality and federal legal recognitions isn't made up of tweakers and young trouble-makers.)

The police force, which was large, felt like part of the celebration while keeping it under control. Very father of the bride. They too are San Franciscans, and this was a victory for all of us.

Happy Pride indeed!

we are family

The community celebration in the Castro was a beautiful love-fest.  I need to upload my pics.

However I don't think any of mine are as pretty as Brain Maier's:

window dressing

The Castro Walgreens has again donated their northern window case to Sundance Saloon to advertise their expanded country-westerning dance nights, and mobiles of dancing couples (of which Bryan and I are a pair). I liked the Victorians reflected in the glass as my friends set up the new display.


And just in time for Pride!

Whoa Mama that's tasty!

I read in the Castro Biscuit that the pop-up dim sum that's been appearing in the coffee/crepe place up from the Castro has reopened as Mama Ji's full-time, and I really wanted to give it a try. I love dim sum, but downtown places get a little crazy, and otherwise you have to travel to the Avenues. The Avenues do have some ridiculously good dim sum restaurants, but I'd love it if there were a place nearer my neighborhood, my evening destinations, or easily accessible via Muni. That a new favorably-reviewed. neighborhood style restaurant was opening in the Castro was good news. That it is a dim sum place was truly exciting. We tried it out last Friday night and were NOT disappointed. (Other recent attempts at establishing a restaurant in the Castro have been tragic: Dancing Pig, Spork, etc.—blah food that's over priced.)

First, the criticisms: The dim menu does not have obvious quantities or prices on it, so it's hard to determine how much you're getting or how much you're spending, so we wound up with about twice as much as we could eat, and that came to about $80 for the two of us. That was fine though as we got to try many different things. They are just starting out so not everything on the menu is available either, but your server will let you know what's what.I also hope that they get a better wine distributor, or better choices, as the Sauvignon Blanc was pretty bad. My dining companion noted that it's a popular label at the inexpensive end for other low- to mid-price restaurants too, but I've had much better $3-$9 dollar whites from Trader Joe's. (Update: looking at scans of the dim sum menu online, the prices are noted as a footnote at the bottom—something we looked for and didn't see when we were at the table.)

Now, the praise: Holy shrimp balls this place is delicious! And the people couldn't be nicer. I really felt like I was part of an exciting beginning for our hosts; and their kindness, enthusiasm, and good-neighborly nature really made me want them to succeed. And if I could aid in their success by ordering enough dim sum to knock me unconscious, so be it. It was the least I could do.


Mama Ji herself was attentive on hand to assist in choices and advise on the menu. And the "white guy" grown up who appeared to run the place was welcoming and attentive too, but in a friendly way and not the distant way that most proprietors or staff can be. Adding to the neighborhood vibe of Mama Ji's is that they have not completed their renovation/move in yet, nor have they properly staffed up yet so the wait staff is comprised of the neighbor kids, which is kind of awesome. They had just the right attitude too. And their inexperience was entirely forgivable, if not slightly adorable.

Aside from the generally friendly, welcoming feel to the place—like you've been invited over to the new neighbors' for dinner—I loved Mama Ji's for the all around awesome food. The seafood dumplings and the shrimp dumplings were delicious, the stuffed mushrooms were hot and juicy (although I like my mushrooms more on the dark side), and they substituted the shrimp and spinach dumpling in favor of a shrimp and snow pea dumpling—and the snow peas were so fresh they tasted as if they were picked just hours earlier. Those exploded with flavor in my mouth and sent me into all sorts of ecstatic states. We only tried one of the fried options, and those were fun as they were fried in a giant tangle of noodles around the dumpling, and were flavorful in an entirely different way.


Both the chicken and pork dumplings were savory, flavorful, and with a pleasant consistency (I find that pork/chicken dumplings can easily be of the "ew" consistency.). Throughout the meal the proprietors would stop by and check in and advise us on choices and ingredients and really made our evening. And I assumed that if we had wanted to be left alone and uninterrupted, they would have been happy leaving us to ourselves as well. Some times I'd like that too, but the newness and their excitement of the new made this evening much more of an adventure. In appreciation, Mama Ji rounded out our meal with some fig or plum paste buns which were a nice fluffy cap to the gastronomic delight.

I was reluctant to post such a glowing review of Mama Ji's because I don't want it to get so popular it's difficult to get a table, or so successful that they jack up the prices. But for now, I am looking forward to being back in SF next weekend and another Friday happy hour followed by too much dim sum yum!

perhaps the gayest thing you will ever see

Costumer appreciation night, open bar, celebrating being voted the best neighborhood bar in the Castro: Donna Sachet, singing Don't Get Around Much Anymore, on the stage at the Edge, while Top Gun is playing on the video screens.


Gayest. Moment. Ever.

(You know, until the next moment.)

warm night for a hot mess

I came across these pics in my phone which I forgot I took Friday night. The nightlife in the Castro is just getting messier and messier. I keep saying that one weekend I am going to devote the evenings to photo ops of the Good, the Bad, and the Oh Girl.

completely biased brief guide to Castro bars

Tis the season for the tourists. I've had a couple requests for Castro bar descriptions/recommendations (I'm looking at you Colin and Eugene) so I thought I would post my quick and completely biased rundown here.

First of all, be aware that on Friday and Saturday nights, the Castro has become the ghetto trash Bourbon Street of San Francisco. The Café, Badlands, Toad Hall and Q-Bar are overflowing with bridge-and-tunnel kids getting drunk on the cheap, and they cannot hold their liquor. I'm all for inclusion, but the gaggles of young straight girls need to learn how to behave if they want to remain welcome. As long as the messy continue to line up for those four bars, I'm good. It keeps them away from "my" bars. And off my lawn, as it were.

And if you are a straight woman visiting a gay bar: you are welcome, but show some manners. (By the way, lesbians find lame straight girls annoying too.)

Here are the brief and insufficient bar sketches, working from Hartford and 18th westward across Castro Street, then back from 18th up Castro to Market:

Moby Dick: Neighborhood bar. 30s to 50s. Above average guys, and guy's guys. Pool and pinball in the back. Awesome bar staff. Casual, comfortable crowd. Good all times. Whiskey Thursdays are tasty. While there are different happy hour specials, the only two-for-ones are for the frozen margaritas if that's your pleasure.

The Mix: Neighborhood bar with more of a party/tourist air. The inside is low-ceilinged and basement like with a cramped pool table, but the back patio is open and airy, when not too smoky. Good all times.

Midnight Sun: Video bar with tv show-specific nights. Friday is bear night and very popular. Two-For-One-Plus-a-Dollar drink specials at happy hour. Get's dead by 10:00 or so. Open during renovation as it adds windows to the street side.

Harvey's: Restaurant/Bar. Simple suburban menu fare. Far from foodie, but certainly good enough. Tasty burgers. The staff is friendly and all around great guys. And it boasts full bar, which is an attraction for dining here too. Brunch has a fun energy and allows for good people watching. And heavy drinking.

Badlands: Perfect if your are a 20-something local tourist and/or a complete mess.  And it is one of the only places to dance in the Castro. Two-For-One drink specials with a heavy pour. Popular with gaybys, gasians, and the young straight girls who cling to them. AKA Sadlands. AKA Shitshow. Lines Friday and Saturday. Beware of pickpockets and iPhone stealing.

The Edge: A man's bar. Sometimes older leather (rarely) but generally a late 30s to early 50s crowd. Two-for-one drink specials during happy hour, which runs until 9:00 (with wooden token, so you don't have to hold both at the same time) and also a warm and fun bar staff. Go-go boys on some nights, beer busts on weekends, and gay rodeo and other benefits are held here. Monday is showtunes night (Musical Mondays) advertised as starting at 7:00 but it's been my experience that it's more like 8:00 or 9:00. Thursdays feature The Monster Show hosted by Cookie Dough—an always fun drag show with mere $5 cover. Worth it.

Toad Hall: The hip-hop version of Badlands most nights. Ru Paul's Drag Race nights are very popular, and Friday and Saturday nights are 20s and 30s crowd with a line out front. Daytime, the crowd is more mature and pretty chill. Sunday afternoon the bar reverts to its roots with softball beer busts, 30s-50s crowd, decent music, and a fun and welcoming population. There is a large back area for smoking/chatting and ample clean urinals in the new back bathroom. Want some natural light in your bar? Go here. (No link as it seems they haven't paid their web host recently.)



Up Castro Street:
Q-Bar: The college and fake ID gay crowd here, with the messy straight girl clingers. Very crowded, with a street-facing smoking room. The now defunct Cockfight night from SF Underground has been remained here, and Booty Call has the best beats. As shallow and messy as this crowd is, the bar has great dance DJs. There is no dance floor really, rather it is "tables get pulled off the concrete when it gets late enough for dancing." Considering their undying popularity with the kids, they have no incentive to offer good drinks or good service, and provide neither. When it's packed, there is definitely a sexually charged vibe.  The straight girls here are almost agressively annoying and need to realize they are not in Marina South (my new name for Polk Gulch).

440: Formerly called Daddy's, and while no longer a leather bar it remains the bastion of manly manliness on the Castro. (This is also the site of the original Toad Hall in the 70s.) While you don't have to be a leather guy or muscled butch dude to hang out here, this bar is the man's man gay bar in the Castro. Yes there are muscles and bears here, but also kind regular guys, and no circuit queens nor twinks. Rarely do women accompany their male friends to this bar, but those who do are women of character who can hang. The occasional gaggle of straight girls with proverbial bows on their heads stray in here with their Kurt Hummel-eque boyfriends to check the place out for a drink, and then leave (if we're lucky) when they realize it is not their scene. Mondays are underwear night, but those have sort of fizzled, although the later the hour on any given night, the more frisky the crowd. Sundays are Sunday Furry Sundays. The primary DJ is always much fun, and there is a coat check in the back when it's open. For being a man's man sort of bar, the guys are almost all welcoming and friendly. Friday after happy hour even more so. There are regular drinks specials during the week, with wooden token two-for-ones during happy hours (until 9:00). As a rather dark bar, I tend to end the night here rather than start here, but Sunday afternoons here are fun too. I consider this "my bar."

Twin Peaks: The senior citizen's gay bar you'll love. Considering the predominantly geriatric clientele, Twin Peaks has also been known as the Gray Bar, The Glass Coffin, or God's Waiting Room. No drink specials and it doesn't need them. And if not having drink specials keeps the kids out, so much the better. The jukebox is full of fun discs, and the bathroom vents open out to the kitchen vents of Hot Cookie next door so it smells delicious. The crowd is really of all ages, but with a markedly chill vibe. It's a bar to sit and actually talk with your companions. And as an all-glass bar on the busiest corner (historic for being the first gay bar in the country with windows), it is an excellent perch for people watching. If there are empty seats at a table, ask if you can join them. Conversely, if you have extra seats at your table, offer them to those looking. It's that kind of place and I've met many lovely people that way. Also known for their coffee drinks.

The Café: The big dance club in the Castro. Different themes each night. Lots of LEDs and disco lights, and sometimes drink specials. Very popular with the dance and club kid crowd, boys and girls, none of whom appear to live in the City proper. Also Boi night. Sunday nights feature the wildly popular and high-energy GlamaZONE hosted by Pollo Del Mar. No cover for the show unless there is some celebrity appearance.

Down Market Street:
Hi Tops: The first and only true "sports bar" in the Castro. Beautifully renovated with tasty food from the back kitchen, full bar and beer selection, and surprisingly crafted cocktails. And lots of screens for lots of sports action. And a clientele with well above-average hotness. Bar staff is friendly, and game days and trivia nights (Tuesdays) are full of fun energy. The drink and food price points are on the higher end, but it's new and you're paying for the premiums which this bar provides.

Chain CVS to go into old Tower space

Via the Castro Biscuit: CVS Pharmacy to go into the old Tower Records space in the Castro--with many negotiated concessions from the Duboce Triangle Neighborhood Association.  The neighborhood strives to keep big chain retailers out of the very community-oriented historic neighborhood village.  I support that effort.

The Biscuit notes:

No one will ever be 100% happy with the results. Hardcore Castro preservationists who wish to see nothing altered from the past will be, most likely, displeased as will the new neighborhood citizens brought by the Tech boom who care little for the old ways and only desire convenience of services and goods they enjoyed in their old, mall-orientated, suburban homelands.

I second that opinion.  Too much the City has become a reverse commute Urb to the tech boomers commuting to work in the suburbs, but continue to impose their own brand of Completely Uninteresting to life in the City.

The Rich Bland are having a measurable impact on the City.  And as arrogant as it may sound, I feel like I have to explain: "Yes, this the cool kids table."  Sitting here will not make you cool.  It's not the table that makes this 'the cool kids table.'  It's the kids."

Unhealthy SF meals at Squat & Gobble?

So back in January, news broke that many, many restaurants were screwing their employees while bilking their customers by adding a Healthy SF surcharge to bills, but not paying the employees' health coverage as required under Healthy SF.

As part of the Healthy SF plan, which requires restaurants and other small businesses to provide some form of health insurance coverage to their employees, there was a provision to allow restaurants to pass the cost along to their customers as a surcharge. This is pretty disingenuous as restaurants could include these costs as part of their business model and the cost of doing business rather than adding a line item to every bill. Basically, it is a political statement on the part of the business owner to do so. Some have expressed their opinion to me that the surcharge may read "Healthy SF" on the bill, but it is really saying "Fuck you" to the customer/SF citizenry for voting for it, and shows an open disdain for their employees.

While I do not whole heartedly agree with that assessment, I take their point. (The charges I've seen have usually been $1-$3 per check. I have a hard time believing that couldn't be spread out in pennies across the price of various items, or absorbed in business costs.) However, I have also noticed some liberal superiority in the happiness to pay the surcharge as it supports the service industry which needs all the respect it can get for their hard work. If I have been so satisfied to pay the Healthy SF charge for the good it creates, should I be so bothered about it appearing as a charge and not an increased price?

Unfortunately for everyone, the potentially unscrupulous and arrogant nature of the surcharge was made outright nefarious when the City's Office of Labor Standards Enforcement audit found that restaurants had collected over $5 million dollars in Healthy SF fees, without providing the insurance or coverage for which they were purporting to be passing thought the cost. After public outcry, the City had released their list of offenders.

photo from SFGate

To be fair, some cases may have in fact been clerical and compliance recording errors. And for this reason, the City offered a grace period for these offenders to make good.

At the top of the list of the most egregious offenders was one of my favorite brunch spots: Squat & Gobble in the Castro at Market and Noe/16th.

When I needed a convenient and amusing place to take a visiting friend staying at a B&B on Henry Street, I told him to meet me at Squat & Gobble around his corner. I had been actively boycotting this place since I learned that the owner tacked on extra charges to his customers (i.e. me and my friends) to the tune of $160,498, and payed employee health expenses totaling... wait for it... $0.

For some reason, I thought all of this had been worked out. Either I thought the grace period had expired or I had a half-remembered conversation in the neighborhood that the owner had done the right thing and taken care of everything.

Apparently, such is not the case.

When I arrived Saturday morning, the owner recognized me and greeting me warmly, and was kind enough to let me "reserve" an outside table as I waited for Andrew to walk the two blocks to the restaurant. This turned out to be an even bigger favor as while I was waiting the crowd grew large and outside tables became a premium.  Meanwhile, Apple Maps sent Andrew to the Squat & Gobble at Haight and Fillmore, who directed him to the one in the Upper Haight (at which point he called to clarify), and the confusion and long walk back left me camped at a premium table with a coffee for longer than expected.

While I was waiting for Andrew, a handsome gay couple in their 40s walked up to the patio, and greeted the owner. The conversation went along these lines:

Paraphrasing: "Hi. It's nice to see you. We came by just to see you and to let you know that we miss you, and we miss coming here, but we won't come back until you clean up that Healthy SF business. That's why we haven't been coming here, and we thought it was important that you knew that."

At the point the owner bunched his shoulders and avoided their eye contact and displayed every aspect body language I would associate with shame. He hemmed and hawed but didn't really say anything. The couple was kind and calm, and also unwavering. "You know this is important. And that is a lot of money. It's not okay."

At this point I was thinking, "Well, shit. I have been avoiding everyone on that list on principle and now I feel like a hypocrite. But I also can't leave at this point, and I certainly can't leave without telling him why or else what would be the point of leaving, and after his kindness this morning that would turn the friendly relationship bitter. Also, I don't want spit in my coffee."

So I sat, slightly ashamed of myself, and eavesdropped intently to hear if the owner did in fact have an explanation, justification, or confession. I did not or could not hear one.  Ultimately, they hugged it out and parted ways.

I did try to catch the eye of either one of the men, to share my concern and ask them where things stood now as far as they knew and what came of their conversation. I failed at that, and could not easily cross the front line of tables and bars to casually approach them.

So I don't know what's up with the apparent fraud at Squat & Gobble, or if ownership is treating the staff with respect or providing basic health coverage as required by law.

Anyone out there have any news? I'm thinking of passing this question on to the SF Appeal, the finest source for local news-news. Or better yet, I'll ask the Castro Biscuit, the best source for local-local news in the Castro.

Update:  Yes, the whole accounting thing is terribly complicated and companies are required to have a set aside funds account for health care for their workers, but the legislation/regulations are a bit unclear on how they are to be spent or how overages are to be accounted.  Which is why the grace period was offered for people to get their reporting and relevant accounting act together.  However, at $160k reported collected and a zero reported spent, and the body-shrug/head-hung-in-shame act I witnessed on Saturday, I don't think the S&G case is a clerical one.

the increasing messiness of the Castro

I've been thinking about writing a longer piece, taking some photos and some information samples, about what I have been referring to as "the Bourbon Street-ification of the Castro."

That is to say, the Community of the Castro has become less neighborhood and community bars, restaurants, and shops and more lowest-common-denominator gay strip-mall shops (look! yet another tobacco, porn and lube shop!), mediocre eateries, and full on drunk crowds of barely 21-year-olds and tourists foreign and domestic, i.e. the SF equivalent of Bridge and Tunnel.  I can't remember a Friday in the past year where I didn't see three girls on the corner of Castro and 18th.  Not always the same three actors, but always the same characters: One girl loudly bitching on her mobile phone, throwing attitude while another girl comforts the third who is throwing up between the cars parking in front of Harvey's.  I would take bets that none of these girls live in the City.  Odds are only 30% that they are gay.

The wider recognition of the "gay pour" and the standard Castro happy hour specials of two-for one has made the Castro the new popular spot for young people to get drunk cheaply and quickly.   And they cannot handle their liquor.  I think of this as the New Year's Eve crowd but now out every weekend.  They are just so excited to be out, drinking late and up past midnight.  Or what I call "Wednesday."

I do love 440, but didn't really consider it "my bar" until I spent the past several weekends entertaining out-of-towners who wanted to tour the Castro and hit the "young" bars.  I'm sorry, but I am established and established socially, and I have a policy that I do not (1) wait in line for a bar or (2) pay a cover.  There are zero bars I consider worthy of either.  I am, of course, happy if not eager to pay a cover if there is a performance, but that is more about my supporting the arts, and I consider SF drag to be an art.  I will also wait a few minutes for Bear Fridays at the Midnight Sun, although my enjoyment of that is more in theory than in practice.  440 truthfully has become my community/neighborhood/home bar.

My sneaking suspicion that the Castro has just become a drunken toilet for tourists, baby gays, and the gaggle of accompanying often annoying straight girls, was cemented last week when I popped out briefly to see a friend on a Thursday night.

Usually Thursday is a Sundance Saloon night, with a possible stop at 440 with the cowboys afterward, but last week I was home busily cleaning and cooking for the Dinner and a Movie event.  The Jamez had been dragged escorted out with Special K and her friends and he found himself hugging the side of the dance floor while the drunken girlfriends were salsa dancing at Ladies Night at, God help him, the Café.  I still consider James to be my best friend even though I see him maybe once a quarter these days.  So when I got his text asking if I were perchance in the Castro and if I could come hang out with him, I took that as a rare opportunity not to be passed up.  I got to a stopping place, put clothes back on (not that I was cooking naked mind you, just going Out clothes) and met them as they were leaving the Mess that was the Café.

They had been at it for a while.

The girls still wanted dancing, and James was happy to continue the crawl with my company.  The next reasonable dance venue was Sadlands Badlands, which mid-week has become a total shit show, but does play dance music.  Sometime me and mine will stop in there mid-week just to watch the base crowd debase themselves in a rather extraordinary manner.  I don't think that I have just gotten older, and I don't think it's just that the crowd has gotten younger.  The crowd has just gotten that much trashier.

Unfortunately, between here and there Special K went from 60 to Zero and put herself in a cab.  The four of us made it into Badlands, but I could only do so much before giving up to warn the girls to clothes their purses and consider the coat check as pick pockets and casual crime has really overrun Badlands and Toad Hall.  The crowd was all early 20-somethings, young techies and "girls on the town" and messy, messy, messy.  One large Asian kid was leaned on the bench, swaying and drooling, and being checked on by his friends every so often between his spitting on the floor in his build up to getting sick.  Nice.  After a round of drinks had been ordered, James returned to me for cash unaware of the cash-only nature of the Castro.   Unfortunately, shortly after drinks were poured, James was called back home as K had left her house keys in her other jacket, leaving me to care for the absolutely charming and absolutely lovely but also absolutely hammered girls I did not know.

Even they looked at the dance floor and asked WTF?  "These are the lamest gay dancers I have ever seen."  Yes.  Welcome to the Shit Show.

And two shows on Sunday.

double double parking

Posted by Paul Montwillo (and Sean Ray) this morning, in the Castro:

Happy Halloween! Sundance Saloon

After the day down the coast I got a disco nap before I made my costume for the Sundance Saloon costume ball. That's always a fun party, but it's difficult to make a costume that is comfortable to dance in, can sweat in, and can exchange the undershirts as they gets too sweaty. Usually the dancing fever also means that face paint it out. This year I thought I'd just have an accent I could wipe off and reapply as necessary. I'm still taking it east on the knees and foot since Stompede, so I only sweat through two shirts this time. Again, not really an "I'm going as such-and-such" costume as just Halloween dress-up. Still "costume" though.


Liam and friends brought it as usual, with a classic:


And the fun people all participated.








Is that a genie in my pocket or am I just happy to see you?


Ah, Johan. He was a genie in a bottle, and I wanted to rub him the right way. Which, incidentally, would be granting one wish.

Bonus: Sundance arranged for a big screen to show Game Four in the bar.


Watching the game was such a nail biter, and I am so glad I was there to witness the final pitch.

Holy Halloween. The streets were insane trying to get home though, as I had to traverse the length of Cesar Chavez. Stupid, stupid girls running in the darkened streets in the mist wearing all black into very fast six lanes of traffic dodging construction. While waving a broom. She almost got killed, and I would have been first in line for the witness stand defending the poor motorist who smacked these stupid people throwing themselves into traffic because the Giants won. Almost as stupid as the rioting and setting shit on fire to celebrate civic pride. Friends were movie uploading from the Castro, which was merely revelrous with the most vandalism being toilet paper from the muni wires. Friends have posted some great shots of the celebration, but by the time I got there the streets had cleared so I headed home.


Around 4:30 a.m. though, another crew tore through the Castro, clearly not locals, and smashed windows to stores, clinics, and the LGBT History Museum. I hate stupid people.

But love the Giants! Between the team and the holiday, I have had to ration the orange and black!


I love this town for fans though. The non bridge-and-tunnel riot set. The view of the City at night as you crest over Twin Peaks is a sight to see: City Hall and most of the downtown buildings have changed their exterior lighting to all orange. As is the beacon atop the TransAmerica Pyramid. Nice.

And then there was this:


I'll keeping singing the song: I love this town.

Happy Halloween! Drag Saturday

This weekend was jam packed of pre-Halloween goodness. I spent Saturday night in my favorite Halloween tradition: celebrating Drag Saturday at Twin Peaks Tavern at Castro and Market (see 2011). As we do, we get there as early as we can, set up a table, and watch the parade through the window, and drink with out be sties, usually in group-drag ensemble. I haven't done drag since the Rodeo Drag-A-Thon, but always come up with a Saturday-specific costume and celebrate my friends who completely bring it. Much love and constant air kisses to Michael Smith. He may deny it, but I think he is the ring leader/creative director of the this particularly flawless rabble.

I still haven't quite recovered myself as 100% into the super happy fun times, and sort of phoned in my Saturday costume this year. As usual, I don;t care for actual "I'm going as such-and-such" costumery, rather I just play an elevated level of "dress up." It 's costume, but not usually character. See "conflict of interest."

This Saturday I pulled out a black shirt I had wired up with several dozen tiny white LEDs and wired up some black jeans to match. With the bare tree across my face, I was a starry night in the woods.


Or rather, I said "I am the woods at night. That can be very scary."

As a big fan, I thought the gaggle of Phyllis Dilers was a nice tribute.


Of course, my friends were glamawesome as usual. This year, they were The Cougars."


Michael's expression is priceless.


Loves my courgars.


And they love me.


Rawr.

As did the paparazzi.


Halloween note: I don't care how twinky or hot you are, nearly naked is not a costume. Sure, some of these guys were ridiculous hot wearing a thong, but it wasn't a costume. It was the desperate teenage girl wearing Slutty Nurse/Slutty Cat/Slutty Girl. Also, we can tell what is an effort at Halloween and what is Leftovers from Burning Man.

However, there was other Halloween hotness.


And Tom, in a variation on his teen In-N-Out uniform, was definitely hanging a little out.


HUGE shout out to MJ. He is a serious comic book geek, and has total comicon hard-ons for Aquaman and Dazzler. No relation. MJ rocked Dazzler.




The eye makeup was spot freaking on.


Other honorable mentions of the night: early 80s nostalgia, with Labyrinth and The Never Ending Story representing.




and The Fantastic Four:


This cracked me up so much as there were just three of them...because you can't see the Invisible Woman!