Is it any wonder that our two most European cities have led the good-time raid on the Puritanical-Calvinist mores of the rest of the country? While the Hurricane (think Pat O’Brien, not Katrina)-drenched Crescent City has given us Storyville (legalized red light district and birthplace of jazz) and more naked breasts than we can shake Mardi Gras beads at, North Beach is the birthplace of the topless nightclub (The Condor, 1964) and the Castro is the headquarters for all things homo-, trans- and bisexual.
Now, some 30 or 40 years since those two “movements,” gayness is the pinnacle of pop culture cool and our nieces back in the Midwest are dressing like pole dancers for their classes at the junior high. The culture we “liberate” today is adopted by the rest of the country later — except, thankfully, in the case of the term “hella.”
De-stigmatization happens here and exports slowly but surely, like the way it did with Internet dating. After about the first week, every hipster in the Bay Area had multiple dating profiles online and told all their friends about them and turned cyber dating into a science or art form. Meanwhile, for the next eight years, it was a secret shame people in Toledo prayed would never get out.
The openness and tolerance here for all things “id” and “natural” has led to the formation of groups on the vanguard of sexual/sensual exploration. Fed by Burning Man and aided by technology like Tribe.net, likeminded, often highly educated neo-hedonists are forming covalent bonds in The City to explore sensuality and sexuality in group settings. Perhaps, with the likes of the Folsom Street Fair, the Pride Parade, and dance party theme nights like Bondage a Go Go and dungeon dance venues like the Porn Palace, they’re following the tradition of making sexuality a public expression.
In San Francisco, striking a blow for gay sex, kinky sex or polyamory doesn’t just mean going behind closed doors and giving it a whirl. It means “outing” it in public; putting it in a parade and marching it down the street in front of camera crews. And even further, forming a community, a culture, around it.
“Outings” grant the rest of us the cultural permission to explore if we want to. The palette expands.
Late last year The Chronicle mused about the true meaning of “San Francisco values” rather than the epithet of “San Francisco values” used sneeringly by the likes of Bill O’Reilly when fear-mongering to his right-wing viewership about the possible reign of Nancy Pelosi as Speaker of the House. The local daily decided that perhaps our strongest values are personal freedom and honesty about what goes on in our communities (instead of shunning what we don’t understand). I’d throw in tolerance as well.
In this sex-themed issue, we give you the high-minded lowdown and the low-minded high-up about the latest pioneers of sexuality in San Francisco, including pieces on Tantra and ones where we speak with two organizations advancing sexuality in their respective community settings. One is Kinky Salon, a network of new-world “hedonists” who bring the open possibilities of sex and sensuality with willing strangers the flavor of which is made available at Black Rock City (Burning Man) and imported to parties centered in the Mission District.
The other is One Taste Urban Retreat Center. Known for introducing Naked Yoga at their SOMA studio space (a story we published about them in 2005 has been the most-read on our website each month since), the center further meshes high-minded spirituality with base sensuality with their Urban Monk Program. And they do it in ways that could raise the eyebrows of even the most practiced Tantric shaman or old-school disco hedonist.
Right or wrong, your thing or not, what’s the common denominator? Creating community and culture with sexuality. Something that naturally involves being witnessed. As One Taste founder Nicole Daedone told us, “When we take what’s on the inside and put it in on the outside [for others to see], all of these elements like shame begin to fall away. And things like shame are just things that keep us shrouded in unconsciousness.”
Todd Spencer is the Editor in Chief of Common Ground.