A few days ago, Gene and I were floating the idea of buying a place, like a paper boat in a bathtub. We take the boat out and play with it from time to time, but just for fun, and it always ends with an agreement that in order to buy a place as nice as where we live now, we’d have to leave this neighborhood we love living in.
This time, though, I started to think about the Mission. The recent glut of gay marriage street parties and Pride celebrations has made me realize how little there is for us in this community. I don’t have any desire (or ability) to force myself inside — I like that it exists as it is. But wouldn’t it be great to be in a neighborhood where I was a member of the bubble? To constantly be running into people I knew, to have a neighborhood bar of my own?
Then again, is de-Mexican-ing the Mission any better than de-gaying the Castro?
I was reading an article talking about how the LGBT folks came into Eureka Valley and did it up proper, and how sad it is that their work is being taken away from them now that so many are being priced out of the neighborhood. The article didn’t mention the thriving Italian community that was here before them. I suppose in twenty years there will be articles about how sad it is that the hipsters are being priced out of town, after we put all that effort into “cleaning up” the Mission.
Wait, did you hear that? It almost sounded like…Spanish? Nah, I dunno what I’m thinking. Lead on, Custer.
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