California dreamin' on such a summer's day

I don't have to dream. I'm here.

I wasn't born here. I adopted this place (or did it adopt me). At some point in my very early 20s I knew that I wanted to live in San Francisco and be away from a place where I would die of smother-cation in summer or frostbite in the winter or the smell of the unwashed masses to and fro on my weekday daily commutes.
I chose San Francisco because of the Streets of San Francisco. It struck a chord. OK, that's not totally true because if it were I'd probably be in Honolulu because Hawaii Five-O also struck a chord.
San Francisco had gays, Chinese and Italian food, sourdough bread, and a personality. I still love it and can say in all honesty that every time I return, I feel as if I were going home. Even after things change, I can say that I'm not angry for the change and I am happy to be there.
So what's changed? Well, when I moved people were still dying from the progression of HIV-->AIDS. Anita Bryant was a loud and homophobic voice. There were no gay marriages. There were no gay domestic partnerships. Apartments were affordable (I lived in a studio for $500/month).
This past holiday weekend (Memorial Day, 2024), I needed to get away from home. Work had just gotten too ugly and too busy and unattractive. So I packed a small bag and spent the night in Las Vegas. Sin City! There were lots of homeless folks every where I went. The ones in Las Vegas, though, were truly unwashed. And I saw a lot of people with bodies that just let themselves go.
I realize this sounds judgmental. Well, I'm writing for myself and I see things that i don't want in my life. I don't like living around/among the homeless and I struggle to maintain a weight that is 30 pounds over my goal. How sad is that? But that is for another day.