Re: 1967 and the Summer of Love12/18/17
posted by jb
We could hear the music at times, working each weekend at Playlands Funtier Town and hit the park once or twice coming home in time to catch the leftovers. Would then take my hard earned cash and hit the Avalon or Fillmore or Winterland. It was a fantastic opportunity in time but once speed entered paradise it changed radically. Like Kev says SOL was the end, my friend. And while I’m not Howard Hughes, the hygienic sensibilities of hippies ran a ring around my starched collared shirt and down my spine. The Haight was a third world country on drugs: A far and distant cry from the 50’s when my dad had his bar on Haight and Cole and Irish hard drinking Niner fans stumbled in the streets.
Nothing is forever and a very recent trip to SF proved a bit heartbreaking for me. Even after clutching to a stalwart standard like Tadich, we were obligated to leave the salacious sanctity of our private booth and hit the bricks. No longer the town I remember, SF has grown, as I groan, into a tall continueum of glass and gym clothed hipsters. My mother used to threaten me with winding up on Third and Howard, but no way could I now afford the rents.
So thank heavens for the Western Neighborhoods, slightly slowed and suspended in the long forward pass of a Hail Mary. And a very Merry Christmas to all who gather here, speak with one another over the cyberfences of our back pages and relish in the City that once was.