The slow pour of nightclubs reopening is now turning into a glorious gusher, and every single club opening back up after COVID feels like meeting a great, long-lost friend again. The latest, greatest long-lost friend to return again is Upper Haight jazz, swing, and cabaret destination Club Deluxe, which will

Borderlands Cafe on Valencia Street closed up for good Tuesday. The owner’s reason for shutting down is not bankruptcy or loss of lease – neither of those things happened in this case. The reason is not based on difficulty retaining staff in San Francisco on cafe pay or declining sales

Step into a world of adventure with the San Francisco Beer Passport. There’s no better way to explore San Francisco than to literally drink it in. This passport is amazing! Each one contains 27 coupons to buy one beer, get a second beer FREE at 27 of the finest locally

ndian melodies form the soundtrack of a Haight Ashbury color explosion. David Scott, Davey for everyone he meets, wearing a brightly colored cape and matching dyed hair is playing sitar in front of the Evolutionary Rainbow mural on the corner of Haight and Cole.

Icons like Janis Joplin and Allen Ginsberg are fondly recalled in Lavender Tinted Glasses: A Groovy Gay Look At the Summer of Love, now on display through September 27 at the GLBT History Museum on 18th Street in the Castro. Love-ins at Golden Gate Park and tie-died T shirts worn by beautiful

 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. Every so often, to avoid sinking into annoying nostalgia, it’s great to

Parada 22 is a brick and mortar in the Upper Haight that neighbors its cousin, Cha Cha Cha.  And cousins they are, literally, for Cha Cha Cha (and Boogaloos) is owned by restaurateur Philip Belber who is a cousin of Parada 22 owner, Gloria Pinette.  For the last six months,

I mentioned them at the end of my last column, but let me officially introduce Donny and Dave. I met these two fellows up in the mountains a few weeks ago. Donny walked up first, and by his shuffling stroll, disheveled garb, and red-rimmed eyes, I presumed him to be

All this talk of gutter punks has been forcing me to question what exactly a gutter punk is. Upon reflection, I started to feel like an asshole for generalizing and stereotyping this certain sect of homeless. Upon investigating, I started to realize I didn’t even know how to identify a