San Francisco and the Castro were pummeled by a mean winter storm, the third in five days. The Sunday streets usually bustling with crowds are a bit light today and no one can be fully prepared for all Mother Nature has to offer. We try though. Good umbrella, water repellant or resistant coats and firm resolve not to let 3 inches of rain stop us in our tracks.
Morning: 9:40 AM-The edge of the neighborhood, Church and Market. Rain coming down in buckets. Streets flooded nearly three feet here on the multi street corner and up to five a few blocks away. MUNI stops underground trains at Church and Market as they follow an ancient underground creek bed that loves to back up and flood the tunnel. Busses are quickly amassed to transport stranded riders up and down the train’s routes. We expect to hear the sound of hammers and saws as our more ‘end of the world’ sort’s begin ark construction at any moment.
Midday: 12:11 PM-Bernal Hill Park, looking toward the Castro. As quickly as the storm starts and creates havoc it turns into an outtake from the PBS, television series, ‘Tales of the City’. A rainbow sprouts amidst steams of warm, golden sunshine. Birds appear. If you strain an ear you can almost hear the drum circle up at Dolores Park. We hustle out to get supplies, walk dogs, get to a movie or hit a neighborhood bar for a little hot toddy or a hot guy named Todd. Either/Or.
Afternoon: 4:35 PM-Castro and Market Street, the heart of the Castro Village. Standing below the majestic magic of the Art Deco facade of the historic Castro Theatre watching bundled up crowds jam into the next showing of ‘Sound of Music Sing-A-Long‘ we see the clouds are gathering yet again to release the hounds. We don’t mind. It’s part of the price we pay living amongst the beauty and fickle nature of the Castro and the City. If you’re coming to visit may we suggest sun block, a winter coat, back pack, umbrella, sun glasses, a light jacket, rain jacket, sturdy shoes-no flip flops please-we are a City not a beach-and most importantly an open mind coupled with a sense of humor.
Oh, and never, ever call our little corner of heaven ‘Frisco’ it makes us feel all stabby.