I first came to San Francisco in 1979. The Castro neighborhood, the epicenter of gay life in the queerest City in the world, was vibrant almost to the point of hysterics. Cute guys were everywhere, gay bars and sex clubs were stuffed full, and I fucked some guy in the cab of a 18-wheeler that was permanently parked inside a bath house as both decor and sex toy. It was a very vivid and amusing time
By the time I returned with R Man in 1988, AIDS had decimated that world. The Castro, while not exactly a ghost town, was permeated with a dreary sense of sadness. And 1988 was not the end of the plague years; an effective treatment wouldn't be available for another decade. Like the song says "Good times, bad times, you know I've had my share".
The neighborhood has recovered since those sad, sad times, but at a cost. The Castro is still widely known as gayborhood, but it has actually turned into a very appealing, very very expensive straight neighborhood with a gay subtext. A queer flavor, if you will. The horrific death toll of AIDS means most of the original pioneers died off and the soaring cost of living here since then means that young queers can't afford it. It's pretty, it has a very successful commercial district with lots of useful businesses and restaurants, and its terrain is flat so it's easy to walk which is a real benefit in San Francisco, so of course everybody wants to live here now. And by everybody I mean heterosexual couples with babies and attitudes about naked men in public and overt displays of gay affection. I'm sure the ghosts of the 1970s homos who settled in what was a shabby working-class neighborhood and turned it into what these people now desire so avidly are shaking their heads.
And what brings that to mind today? I was at a cafe, one of my favorites, and trying to leave but was blocked by a mommy and daddy with their oh so precious baby spawn and most of all, one of those baby strollers that proclaim for them how superior their breeding abilities are. I understand the world moves on and you either move with it or you're left behind; I'm just not so convinced being left behind in this case would be so unappealing.
Boys I wish were in this neighborhood:
