What's the Beef with Castro Nudists?

There is controversy brewing in the heavily gay populated Castro district in San Francisco. A group of nudists have descended upon the newly installed piazza at the street closure of 17th and Market. The piazza has become the new town square. Young drag queens run from bar to bar, trying to hustle up an audience. Some even climb up the NO PARKING sign in front of the Subway sandwich shop to perform impromptu pole dancing. You never know when a poet or a performance artist will put on a little DIY show where the F-line ends. There is a renewed feeling of excitement: something may happen if you linger. Everyone wants a little attention, it seems.

Although there has been no local opposition to the nudists, outside influences have been stirring the pot. In the 2/10/11 San Francisco Chronicle, columnist C.W. Nevius suggests that gay residents are as offended as he is but simply too afraid to speak up. Nevius argues that the Castro has evolved past its legacy as a bastion of gay liberation: it now includes parents with strollers. To protect 7-year-olds from the sight of grandpas in wrinkled birthday suits, Nevius urged residents to lodge complaints to the police.

Couldn’t this just be a teachable moment, à la Obama?

See, kids, this is what happens when you don’t exercise and don’t wear sunscreen.

Nudity doesn’t harm children, no matter how grotesque. After all, we encourage our kids to visit museums, where there are nude drawings and nude sculptures. Many children take baths with their parents. Nudity, in all shapes and sizes, is on display if your child changes in the locker room at the local pool.

When adults voice their objections to public nudity, they do so because it offends their tastes and sensibilities. Gay Castro residents are not well known for being timid and reticent on social issues. We speak up for our neighborhood when the issue warrants our attention. These nudists, as unsightly as they may be, do not offend. As the saying goes, it is the Castro. With its historical legacy as a bastion of insouciance and iconoclasm, we celebrate the Castro as an undisputed ADULT space.

When tourists go to North Beach, they expect pastas and espressos. When they venture into Chinatown, they buy back-scratchers and comment on the obnoxious smells. When they come to the Castro, they want to see the weird and wacky. They aren’t coming to check out Pottery Barn.

If we banned the three nudists (count them—just three!) in the name of protecting the children, perhaps the gay porno cases on display outside Superstar Videos will be the next to go. Anal beads will no longer be sold in Castro sex shops, if any will be allowed to remain open. Hot Cookie will be precluded from selling their gigantic penis-shaped macaroons.

The Castro will have been completely de-sexed.

This way, well meaning parents can safely take their kids on a tour of a sanitized Castro. They can pride themselves on how enlightened (and progressive) they are when they announce, “see, kids, being gay is completely normal.” And utterly boring.

When I think of San Francisco, and the Castro in particular, I think it is a magical playtime for adults. When the fog blankets down the hills of Twin Peaks like cotton candy, I wonder if the gold rushers of the Barbary Coast, amidst all the sex and gambling, stopped to admire the view. Did the same shivering summer cold greet the Haight-Ashbury hippies of the sixties, when people wore flowers in their hair? When I read Tales of the City, and how much energy these characters had—to go dance at the Endup, to go to a specific Laundromat for sex, to shop at a Safeway all the way across town for the pickup scene—I sometimes wonder, was San Francisco a warmer city then?

In the age of social networking on the internet, there is less and less need to go to the town square to check out the scene. Especially in perpetually cold San Francisco, the sleepiest city ever after the fog rolls in. Drag queens, poets, musicians, and yes, even the nudists—they’re like cartoons popping up in real life. They make the Castro the place to go for something unexpected. Something exciting may yet happen if I venture out and play. 

It almost makes me feel like a kid again.

(Originally published in 4/11 Sparkle & Blink)