(I wrote this just before someone took a shot at Trump.  How appropriate.)

3 Minute Read

Happy Monday and this is not what you think.  Today, I lament the loss of SF's beloved Stern Grove Festival.

Oh, it's still taking place, in the Sigmund Stern Grove (pictured above), located in southern San Francisco at the corner of 19th Avenue and Sloat Boulevard.  It is a Diamond Certified natural amphitheater amid towering eucalyptus and pine trees, where free live concerts have been held on Sundays each summer for 87 years. 

Except for now, which I say doesn't count anymore, because the Stern Grove experience is no more.

It took us a few years after moving to SF in 1992 to plug into this foggy paradise for attendees and performers - and the hawks that often soar above shows.  But once we did, we went to a show most summers, led by Julie, who became the family leader in terms of attendance and attendance protocol.

A key to understanding the Festival, beyond it being free, is that there were essentially no gates or access controls of any kind.  You simply strolled down into this public park.  If that meant arriving at 9AM (showtime then was 1PM) for Bloody Mary's, a gonzo location, and the Sunday New York Times, fine. 

There were very rarely lines, no tickets required, and no hassle; one could bring virtually any food, drink, or furniture they wished, with only one rule:  It couldn't be much taller than a beach chair (a category we soon mastered). 

It was gorgeous - beyond gorgeous if I am telling the truth.

You could stake out an area on the lawn, but boy were the volunteers adamant about filling in empty space as show time drew closer.   The nice thing is the Grove's shape:  Late arrivers could always find unlimited room on the back hillside - which still had great sightlines and the same amazing sound.

Us?  We always arrived early, got an amazing spot near the stage, and then had an extended brunch on the lawn.  I'd often bring a speaker (a shocker, certainly) and we'd Pat Metheny out for a few hours before the real concert.

Concert?  I've lost track of the performers I've seen, but my favorite will always be the San Francisco Symphony - hearing their musical force up close is like no other musical experience.   But Tower of Power wasn't bad, either.

Julie's seen at least twice as many shows as I, including a Lyle Lovett show she still talks about.

Can you tell we loved it?  Best of all is that it captured the SF vibe that requires living here to understand.  Rich/poor.  Black/White.  Cool/not cool.  Partier/straight.  Gay/straight.  Everybody next to each other, strangers chatting and maybe even sharing a drink.  I met someone I'd soon hire at Casa Integration one Sunday.  The diversity - and not of the Psycho Woke variety - every weekend was something to see, and you'd have to be some kind of real prick not to enjoy it.

Which finally brings me to today's sad subject.  The shows go on, but they killed the rest.  Or I guess I should say our refusal to control guns killed the rest.

The shows are still free, and that's about the end of the similarities.  You now must register with Eventbrite and get a ticket.  That is now a thing, and it is easy to get shut out.  Which of course has opened up a dodgy secondary market for these "free" tickets.  Glorious capitalism at its finest, no doubt, but that's not the problem.

The problem is that there are now gates and lines.  Big, long lines that mean you're standing in one vs. luxuriating in the Grove with a glass of bubbly.  And when the gates do open (noon now, showtime 2PM) most literally run into the Grove to commandeer a choice spot.  Mellow it ain't.

The gates and resulting lines are to scan tickets, of course.  But they are also there so you can go through a metal detector. 

And put up with a typo, but I digress.

Just a couple of years ago, none of this existed and didn't need to for some eighty years.  Yes, it was first instituted to control access during the virus.  But that's not the reason any longer. 

Someone somewhere realized a mass shooting here would kill dozens or hundreds.

So why take the risk?  Put up a few metal detectors and it will all be fine.  And have you seen the City's insurance bill lately?

Some will say this is all worth it, to keep us safe, and the Festival possible.  To that, I say:  How about if we just got rid of the guns instead?   

Because if more guns made us safer, we'd be the safest place on Earth and we wouldn't need to ruin Stern Grove. 

Or have more senseless deaths.

It was, and is, the guns.

Hugs to  Lara Mohair and Nicki Vale for their very kind words regarding the scintillating Maybe It Was Destiny series.  Humility dictates I can't share what they wrote . . . kidding!  

And a shout-out to our friend Alec Baldwin. 

His BS trial is over; longtime readers know we have a connection to his Santa Fe story.  While he was filming the doomed "Rust," we met him at a restaurant.  Then the accident happened.  

Thank you for reading this newsletter.  

Sure, we play this Columbian band often here on KLUF.  But Cause & Effect describes the Stern Grove situation just too perfectly.  So here is that Killer album - yes, again - from BALTHVS.