This originally appeared in my Broke-Ass City column for the San Francisco Examiner. I’m a Democratic Socialist. I know some of you just sneered reading that sentence, which is totally justifiable because I’m sure you’re a billionaire and Democratic socialists want to raise your taxes. Oh, you’re not? Well, surely,
As decades pass, etiquette evolves. Many things that were once thought of as rude or improper are eventually considered casual. Similarly, things that were once considered polite, can become old-fashioned or stuffy. There was a time when wearing a hat indoors was considered completely inappropriate.
This list of great places to eat in the Bay Area will leave you smiling and probably drooling. All these joints are incredibly well priced, locally owned, delicious, and serving takeout in 2020. Check their links for store hours, menus, and ordering info, because things are always changing these days,
At this point in time, good, smart and honest media is as important as ever, but it’s being funded less and less. The New York Times and The Washington Post are doing absolutely stellar jobs in digging up the nefarious doings of the Trump Administration and they are doing it with newsrooms half as full as the days of Watergate.
I first moved to San Francisco when I was 21 for an internship in the booking department at Bill Graham Presents. It was the summer of 2002, a simply magical time in my life, and the genesis of the over 15-year love affair I’ve had with The City.
The last time San Franciscans talked this much about Oakland was in 1906. The City was ablaze and 100,000 residents fled across San Francisco Bay, many never to move back to San Francisco. They say the population of Oakland doubled in roughly 72 hours.
Many of the things we shrug off as normal in San Francisco don’t happen in other places.
This originally appeared in my Broke-Ass City column in the San Francisco Examiner. “Pride reminds me of the America I want to live in,” I said to whomever was next to me. I was standing near Fourth and Market, a few vodka Red Bulls in, and watching as the beautiful,
In the past seven years, San Francisco has been staggering under the weight of an ugly and brutal struggle: whether to run from its past or hide from its future. You know this. We’ve all had too many friends forced to move, seen too many neighbors evicted and watched helplessly as rents reach “Ground Control to Major Tom” heights