I’m in San Francisco. There’s a certain draw I cannot deny. It pulls me toward it. I must go.
It’s like a religious mecca. A pilgrimage I must partake in. A place I must go. A destination I must visit. And no matter how straight-acting or butch or bi or Republican or whatever you claim to be, when you hit this area, you feel the draw to go there as well.
This weekend, I shall go there. I’ve been there once, so long ago. I recall standing upon a manhole cover and taking a photo of my booted feet upon it with the word “CASTRO” in the heavy iron. Lo, about 17 years later, I go back, a much more mature man, now much more confident in myself, much more “out” about myself and much more myself.
Mecca lecca hi, lecca hidie ho.
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