Skip Granger at Home in San Francisco, 1970
When I first visited the San Francisco Bay Area in the early 1950’s on a family vacation, we had just been to Lake Tahoe, which my mother thought was the most beautiful place that she had ever been. Having spent most of her life in Joplin, Missouri, she was likely correct. She said that she could easily spend the rest of her life in Lake Tahoe. We left and drove into San Francisco in our new 1950 Nash Ambassador across the Golden Gate Bridge. She was thoroughly embarrassed when we checked in at the Sir Francis Drake Hotel in shorts, while the locals were clad in mink coats and more appropriate cold weather apparel. As a young 8 year old kid, I didn’t care about my clothing as much as the excitement of such a lively and vibrant place! San Francisco was where I was likely to leave my heart.
Fast forward to 1967 when I returned as a Berry Tour Director to what Herb Caen called ”Baghdad by the Bay.” It was just as my heart had left it – beautiful, vibrant and full of life. I enjoyed every bit of the ”Summer of Love” there, as I did in all of my subsequent trips. Interesting people and places. And it didn’t hurt that the population of males to females was highly skewed to my advantage or that many of the males did not care much for the fairer sex.
When I moved to Honolulu in 1969, the locals called it ”CalaFrisco.” As a young travel executive, I enjoyed the best of Hawaii. However, the Islands were a difficult place for a haole to do business. When asked if I would consider moving to the Bay Area to become the national sales manager, my employer and I were in an airport lounge with a few Beltz (the name of our company) under our belts, I refused. The next morning, I called very early with a hangover and said that I had reconsidered, and my air ticket arrived shortly thereafter.
When I moved to San Francisco from Hawaii in 1970, I had to change from Aloha Shirts to a silk band around my neck. I needed a place to live. Since I was traveling about the Bay talking with travel agents and airline personnel, I made my needs known. One day, I received a call asking, ”How soon could you move into a Pacific Heights furnished Penthouse apartment?” Having no furniture, I could move in that day. The owner was keeping his mistress in the swanky apartment, and when his wife got curious, he needed to change tenants immediately.
That’s why I could afford to live there. His problem was my solution. My friends loved it since they could stop by for drinks en route home to Marin and check out the traffic on the Golden Gate Bridge with my telescope.
I could go on and on about my fun times for many years around the Bay area, even becoming reacquainted with my Jayhawk wife, Mary Ann, who worked at Pan Am [long story]. Suffice it to say that after 50 years, our love life with San Francisco ended, and we moved to 
Arizona. The politics had become ”Bizerkely like,” and the streets were paved with diamonds that on closer scrutiny were actually glass from broken car windows accented with hypodermic needles and human excrement. My heart was no longer there. In fact, Tony Bennett was so upset that he died. My beautiful city by the Bay no longer exists. RIP
Tony said it all. Tony Bennett, “I Left My Heart in San Francisco”
But then Herb Caen added — “If I do go to heaven, I’m going to do what every San Franciscan does who goes to heaven. He looks around and says, ‘It ain’t bad, but it ain’t San Francisco.'”
Dan Tontz sent me this link, which shows what’s going on in San Francisco today. https://www.cnn.com/2023/09/03/us/san-francisco-tenderloin-drug-market
As always, I loved it !!!