Last night in SF, and A Little Gay History

I headed out around 6pm tonite just to go sit in what is actually called Officer Jane Warner Memorial Square, or something like that - not Pink Triangle Square - turns out I have no idea where PTS is - anyway, it's the same spot I've referenced a few times, with the red iron patio chairs and little matching iron tables, and is the primo people-watching spot in the area, being right at the corner and apex of Market and Castro, and right on top, not only of where multiple electric bus lines intersect, passing in all directions, but also in the middle of, literally, where the F streetcars pass - which do so within feet of you when you're sitting there, as seen in the below photo which I took tonite from my patio chair - this is a train in motion - follow the tracks to see how close it comes:

On my way to this square, I pass clubs Toad Hall, which has been around since 1971, and which plays Glee on Tuesday nights and American Idol whenever it airs, as well as karaoke, two for one drinks until 9pm (!), and which was absolutely jam packed ... Badlands, across the street on 18th, which also at this early hour had music playing and people spilling out the door ... and up at the red table square, Twin Peaks Tavern, which I just read was opened in 1972 by two lesbians and which was notable at the time for it's floor to ceiling windows - this being a time when gay bars would have purposely been closed off to prying eyes for the safety and protection of it's patrons.

A cool thing about this place is that, during the filming of 2008's Milk - the biopic about Harvey Milk starring Sean Penn for which I believe he won the Oscar - they redid a number of neighborhood businesses to look like they had in the 70's, adding to Twin Peaks, or returning to it, a way-retro neon flashing arrow pointing to it's sign - which they apparently decided to keep, as it's still there.

When looking this place's history up just now, the first hits were yelp reviews, and at the top of the list even though it's not the latest review (it's dated 12/22/11, by somebody named Christopher D of San Francisco, who gave the place four out of five stars) is this:

Other than the older, intoxicated gentleman who continually cupped my partner's balls last night when I wasn't looking--this is a wonderful, comfortable place to have a strong drink and enjoy the views.  "Am I doing something wrong?", he asked as I removed his hands for the second time from items that he is not privy to.  The bartenders are great.   They politely asked the gentleman to refrain from his fondling, and then escorted him to the door where they helped put him in a cab.  This was all done with a wink and a smile.  Pretty cool.

I mean, that's actually such a sweet review, when you think about it.  This place I have noticed, and saw again tonite, is mostly attended by older, gray haired folks - mostly guys - it appears not to have much of a lesbian presence, but then I think Castro has far more gay men than women to begin with.  One has to wonder what these older guys have seen in their years in this neighborhood, and in this bar.  I'm sure they would have some amazing and maybe harrowing stories.  (It's hard for me to get my head around just the idea of sitting in a bar minding your own business and hurting no one, when a police raid happens, and you're actually arrested and hauled away because you're 'type' is still on the books as being 'illegal'.)

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Around the corner on 18th is Toad Hall, and this place, too, has an interesting history.  It opened May 28, 1971, and somehow survived four separate fires over the years including two that completely gutted it.  According to a website which traces the history of Gay Castro, it was

one of the most popular bars, and may in fact have had a significant influence on the influx of gays to the Castro.  The bar firstly was a trendsetter - the first to allow dancing, and one of the first anywhere to use taped music instead of a jukebox, and not just taped music, but well planned programs of songs that flowed into each other seamlessly.  When the other bars began to catch up, Toad Hall became among the first to install a booth and hire a DJ.

The bio goes on to say:

At the time, most gay bars were totally governed by greed.  Gays were happy to have any place to meet and were at the mercy of whatever slumlords would accept them, and had to learn to accept rundown places in seedy locations.  Toad Hall by contrast welcomed gays with a smile into a clean, well-decorated establishment.  It is not unrealistic to opine that gays flocked here from all over the city and beyond, and in doing so, became charmed by the beauty of the neighborhood.

The bar's name btw it says came from the children's book Wind in the Willows, which has a character who is

a charming and respectable, but wayward frog; a misfit who didn't quite fit into the community of quiet, hard-working, rural creatures, nor could he handle the fast-paced, hectic role of a city dweller.

Which is funny because just today, when I went and had lunch, I was thinking about this neighborhood in the 50's and 60's being heavily Irish Catholic, and what it must have been like for those folks to have all these homos flocking here, to the point where they sort of completely took over the neighborhood, to the point where San Francisco itself then became widely known as, and synonymous with 'gay'. 

I guess it's the story of any new wave of immigrants piling into a neighborhood.  In this case it wasn't folks from other countries, however.  I imagine those folks were not at all happy, especially with their bible deriding gays, but then, funnily, it had to be that at least some of their own sons were these bars' patrons.

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So farewell, lovely Castro, and farewell homos.  I've had a blast in your midst, and thank you.  I shan't soon forget it.