Castro and Market street, home of the big gay rainbow flag.
Pretty damn gay.
But stylish and full of shops selling hand crafted home furnishings.
We went for ice cream.
Organic of course.
Apart from the neighborhood of the rainbow flag, I was restricted to three or four blocks around Union Square. Every time I go to San Francisco, I'm astonished at the way psychiatric hospitals have been emptied into the downtown area.
Tax protesters rub shoulders with folks who are living in another world and dancing to music very different from the sounds you and I hear.
One of the most beautiful and rich cities in the world in the most powerful country in the world seems unconcerned with the fate and condition of its most vulnerable citizens. I admit I grew tired of being followed for blocks by beggars and the inevitable swarm when eye contact seemed like an invitation to relate an improbable and convoluted story of woe.
None of this seemed right in the shadow of Macy's , Nordstrom and Saks.
I suppose given this sad pantomime laps at these shores of entitlement, the story is out in the open and not hidden away in a ghetto or slum.
No one seemed to care one way or another.
Its easy to retreat into a "Its all very sad, but what's mine is mine" mentality.
"The problem is too big and I'm here to work/shop/have my holiday."
"The city should do something about this, its such a shame for the the tourists."
I think its a shame that the great and good of San Fran stare right through the shame of all this.