An Ode to the Magic & Beauty of San Francisco
In musing over the latest death spiral Chronicle article about the demise of San Francisco, I couldn’t help but smile. It’s about time! This era needs to end so that THE CITY can experience the next urban super bloom.
For those of us enamored with San Francisco for its culture, nature, events, variety and activism, we need less of the stuff that got us into this mess (more money, more problems) and more of the people who create, make and care for this unique 7×7 square.
The divide between those who are hella thriving and those who are barely surviving is gross. It’s a hard bleak pill to swallow for anyone who’s been around longer than a minute.
In contrast to the Chronicle, this article is an ode to San Francisco, to its unwavering magic and beauty and a call to action to all those who contribute to making this the wondrous place that it is, to not give up and leave.
The gifts of this city, which draw folks from the rest of the beige parts of the world, is its spirit of zest, inclusion, boldness, colors, intensity, and electricity. Things are happening here, not in the same way as the other bigs like NYC or LA, but in a more chilled-out NorCal nature vibey/CITY “wink wink you’re in on something special” way. Throughout the constant intersection of urban structures and ocean escapades/park and mountain geography lies SF’s magic pill of greatness.
Those running to the tip of this peninsula are searching for that something special that exists possibly only here. This gorgeous quad combines a mix of immigrants, with deep generational locals and is speckled all over with transplants from every part of this globe with the cherries as the artists, musicians, bartenders, social workers, teachers, MUNI drivers, and writers. The characters, the music, the food, the languages, the activities, the greenery (all senses of the term)..the variety is endless and amazing.
With inflation high, homelessness high, building vacancies high, and fentanyl drug deaths high, I raise my glass (or bottle and in this case Santa Cruz winemaker James Jelks‘ truly wonderful Florez selections) to what is being born from this mud. “No mud, no lotus” is perhaps an overused phrase but one that rings so true in this case.
And, like this wine San Francisco is as unique as is an octopus.
We are in the process of hitting rock bottom in many societal areas, and from there shall bloom the next era. So we need the current bartenders, painters, storytellers, yoga teachers, zen masters, roller skaters, tortilla makers, burger smashers, and explorers to stay put. Hold on a little tighter if you can, to be a part of the next bloom.
Currently, there is so much percolating:
- SF Parks Alliance is doing wondrous things for community spaces throughout the city and SF recreation & parks boasts a massive calendar of events!
- Grace Cathedral is holding outstanding yoga, sound bath and music events regularly and creating spaces to heal and “make the world a better place”
- Art galleries abound (2358MRKT mid-market, SOMARTS Cultural Center, 2121 ArtSpace in the Mission, Hunters Point Shipyard Art, Midway in the Bayview) & amazing local artists are taking center stage: George McCalman, Kate Tova, Katja Leibenath, CLAM, just to name a few…
- Independent theaters like the Vogue, Balboa and 4 Star are creating community spaces (art shows and awesome flics)
- Music venues are packed
- SF Public Libraries is non stop with their offerings
- Signup for the BAS Events Newsletter if you want to know about great shows, art, and live events in the Bay!
This type of electricity in the air is happening while we’re still wearing our cloaks of despair. However, things are shifting and there is much hope for San Francisco.
As part of my ode, I can’t help but think of my dad as he struck me as such a quintessential SF character. He came here in 1970 and never looked back. This place was where “everyone was invited to the party, just maybe not at the exact same time”.
My father, Lex Hutchinson, was a stained glass artist for SF Stained Glass Works for most of his career (claim to fame is that his stained glass decorated the front door of the Mrs Doubtfire house or the stained glass behind the bar at O’Reilly’s Irish Pub, now Chief Sullivan’s) and always makes me think of the best parts of SF.
Though he was living paycheck to paycheck, he was massively rich with experiences and friends. This was evidenced by the showing at his memorial in 2016. For most of his adult life, you could find him decked out in a leather jacket (for the micro-climates or the wind!), wearing sunglasses, LEVIs, white slip ons and his Giants baseball hat. He sported a constant ponytail, earrings, and tattoos (my 5th-grade class picture proudly covered his right bicep).
He listened religiously to KFOG, rode MUNI, and read the printed Chronicle daily. When not making stained glass, he was possibly playing pool at Gino and Carlo’s in North Beach, waiting to swoop up fresh tortillas at La Palma or enjoying a pint at The Page. You could bet he knew whatever Herb Caen was talking about, what my horoscope said that day, how the Giants were doing, what the mayor was up to or what shows were at the Fillmore.
He had kind words for the homeless man on the corner of Divisadero and Page or for the MUNI drivers, always nodded to the punks and shared a glass with whomever. You could be gay, straight, old, young, poor, rich, in another language other than English speaking or just English and pops would chat it up with you, no questions asked. Just love and a beer.
He was constantly creating art, inspired by the cast of characters in the city and the nonstop music shows at night. He wasn’t a part of old money San Francisco, but he was a part of the beautiful underbelly that makes this place THE place that everyone else wants to come to. The incredible inspiration that electrifies this city comes from the extraordinary extra ordinary array of folks and the colorful and gritty independent art, writing, music, and activism scenes.
To me, he represented San Francisco and my hope is that with this current transition that we’re in, we’ll figure out a way to prioritize retaining people like him while creating a better situation so that others in his non-millionaire financial status situation can also find refuge here.
To be clear, we need policy changes so that San Francisco is not just for those individuals that make over $100,000 per year. I’m thrilled to have been born here and to raise my family between the Bay and the Breakers. I have birthed two kids in this city, and am raising them to also take MUNI, know where to get dumplings, pho, and burritos, to respect the history of the Castro, the Mission, the Fillmore, the Bayview, and to sit with curiosity and open hearts regarding all of the people who make this place feel special. This is a wondrous place to grow up in and to call home.
With this ode to San Francisco, it’s also an ode to all of the Lex Hutchinsons that make this place magnetic and pulls us all here.
Cheers to the next bloom, may it remind us again of the million reasons why San Francisco is the place that so many run to with glee.
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