“By 1980, however, the movement had become a victim of its own success. Particularly in San Francisco, the taboos against homosexuality ebbed easily in the midst of the overall sexual revolution. The promise of freedom had fueled the greatest exodus of immigrants to San Francisco since the Gold Rush…By 1980, about 5,000 homosexual men were moving to the Golden Gate every year. The immigration now made for a city in which two in five adult males were openly gay. To be sure, these gay immigrants composed one of the most solidly liberal voting blocs in America, but this was largely because liberals were candidates who promised to leave gays alone. It was enough to be left alone. Restructuring an entire society’s concept of sex role could come later; maybe it would happen by itself.” ~ Randy Shilts
I first started to idolize the mythos of the City by the Bay when I heard The Village People song “San Francisco;” taken from their debut album released in 1977. To a confused little boy, such as the already legendary Studio 54, it seemed like a place just “over the rainbow;” were all your troubles disappeared. Later, my draw to the place solidified, during the 1960s revivalism of the 80s, when my favorite song became Scott McKenzie’s “San Francisco (Be Sure to Wear Flowers in Your Hair.)” I wholeheartedly believed the lyrics: “If you're going to San Francisco/You're gonna meet some gentle people there…”
While I did meet some extraordinarily kind and “gentle” people in San Francisco, I also came across an equal, if not greater, number of lost, abusive, and sick individuals. It was the post-AIDS era of the late-80s, and many still walked about The Castro like ghosts: with sunken cheeks, blotchy skin, and hacking coughs; others, just wept over the memories of dead friends and lovers. Yet, on the surface, all was almost back to “normal.” The bathhouses had reopened, Madonna was exploring her bisexuality, and the political tone started moving from AIDS awareness to several none issues such as gays in the military. Looking like the future seemed bright; I jumped in with a mind full of abandon. Suddenly, people starting dying around me: from AIDS, from over-doses, and by their own hand. By 1999, I was burned-out: gone through countless courses of antibiotics for numerous STDs, been convinced I had become HIV+, and was bleeding from nearly every orifice. So much for San Francisco.
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