SFO Day 3 - Seeing stuff we can't unsee

This morning, we attended the Folsom Street Fair.

Some of you know what that is about, some don’t. If you don’t, you might want to check whether you are easily offended or shocked before you read on. If acknowledgement of fetishism bothers you, you might want to skip ahead to Day 4, where there is good stuff about Alcatraz and happy subjects like that.

(Harmless but strangely scary stuff ahead)

Folsom is, reportedly, the “Third Largest Annual Street Fair in California” (see this earlier post of mine on the topic of tri-perbole). Like most street fairs they shut down about 6 blocks of a street, they have bands playing on multiple stages, they have booths selling food, drinks, and other paraphernalia. It is run as a not-for-profit, and there are lots of opportunities for donation to theme-related charities. It is a real community event where lots of different people come out to share common interests. Like every other Street Fair in North America.

In this case, the common interests are “Leather Pride”, the BDSM lifestyle, and various associated fetishes.

Apparently, I was the only one who didn’t realise there was an entire “equine” fetish culture. At least one medium-sized parade worth.

There were people being tied to various things with elaborate knots.

(Notice how many people are looking at something out of frame that is more interesting than the person in the middle of the frame? That’s Folsom.)

One could be whipped for fun, or watch others being whipped, or even get whipped for charity.

There were a fair number of people being led around on leashes, most in various forms of undress.

While others were just looking fabulous.

As strange as it sounds, it was great. It was clear this was a happy, open, and accepting crowd. There was no shame (unless that was what you were into), and no judging. There was quite a bit of nudity, and lots of... uh... simulated rituals, but everyone seemed comfortable to be outside and Out There.

There was a noticeable lack of officialdom, although there were a fair number of people in uniforms. And in rubber boots. And in Macramé.

So after a few hours of that, we decided to pay big money to watch some other guys in tight costumes clasp their balls with leather gloves and swing their bats at each other in a ritualized homoerotic display.

That’s right: we went to a baseball game.

It was a hot, sunny afternoon, and the San Francisco Giants were just coming off their securing of the National League West title the night before. 

(it’s not polite to point at the tourists)

The Giants play in “AT&T Park”, which is a much nicer ballpark than it sounds. Very Norman Rockwell on the outside, with faux-copper framing and brick walls, the concourses are huge, the beers expensive, and the stands spectacular. The park overlooks San Francisco Bay, and manages to evoke the history of the Giants despite being a modern ballpark.

This suits me fine, as I love being in a ballpark. As much as I am a hockey fan first, I would rather watch hockey at home on TV. To enjoy baseball, you have to be at the park, drinking beer, rubbing shoulders with fans, watching the game slowly develop, earning your sunburn, listening to the organ and the bat. It is actually my favourite spectator sport to see live. Some of my best memories of living in the MidWest were going to Wrigley to watch the Cubs play in a traditional old ballpark... but I digress...

The Giants lost. They put a lot of their third-string talent out, this being the game after they won their division and secured their playoff spot, against a team (the San Diego Padres) who are something like 20 games behind with 10 to go, and will not likely be seeing the playoffs this decade. The Giants made it interesting in the bottom of the 9th, bringing the winning run to the plate with bases loaded and one out, but San Diego got out of it only allowing one for a 6-4 final.

I got a sunburn.

A nice Vietnamese dinner back in Pot Hill and a few pints at the local dive-bar, Bloom’s Saloon, and we called it a night on Day 3.