We went again to San Francisco two weekends ago for the Gay Men’s Chorus Concert, Tales of Our City, which included Armisted Maupin speaking about his adventures in San Francisco in 70s, 80s, and 90s, and his remembrances of people like Harvey Milk and other gay leaders of the time.
Lay has always wanted to move there since our first visit, but now he doesn’t. I was warm and not so crowed (other visits have been for Pride), so he saw kind of the real grind of day-to-day life there with the urine smell, poop in the doorways in the mornings, and the drugs on the street.
Still, it was a good trip, we saw some areas we had not seen before, and the concert was even more fabulous than usual. If you ever have a chance to hear this group, by all means, please do. You won’t regret it.
The trip home, not quite so great though. We were changing planes in Houston that Monday or their great flood. While it had quit raining by the time our plane landed about an hour late, apparently United (#UnitedSucks), had decided it would be a brilliant idea to fly everyone into Houston, but not fly much of anyone out. We did get confirmed on a decent flight home Tuesday, but they didn’t cover the hotel room that night, and we only barely found a room.