Some people run away to join the circus. Others run away to San Francisco. Those of us who live here know it’s actually the same thing.

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. As April Fools’ Day approaches, I’m unavoidably reminded of my old friend

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. In the years when you didn’t need a lucrative, full-time job to

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. It’s apparently some kind of special beer week in San Francisco, and

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. Turning dream states into real world experiences was one of the things

Last week I had dinner with my old friend and roommate, “Chad Mulligan.” Unlike a lot of my Cacophony friends, “Chad” likes staying out of the limelight, but then, he doesn’t write, either—a task for which you’d better get some limelight, or a day job. Hanging with him reminded me of one

In The City That Was, Bohemian Archivist P Segal tells a weekly story of what you all missed: the days when artists, writers, musicians, and unemployed visionaries were playing hard in the city’s streets and paying the rent working part time. In the days before social media and online entertainment, people had a