Our embedded tourist group just pulled off an eight-person city jaunt that involved public transit, taxi, Uber, private vehicle, and feet. We diverged to relocate twice and attended four events. It came off without a hitch and everyone got home safely.
We attended the Summer of Love Experience at the de Young Museum, had an afternoon picnic in the park, traveled to North Beach for dinner at Sotto Mare, then capped off the night with seats for “Beach Blanket Babylon.”
It took a week of group texting to organize. First we were all going to take BART and the Fulton bus to de Young, then Uber to North Beach and BART home. Then came the accoutrements. Eating once in the city is fine and affordable, but eating twice for eight people could be a strain on the wallet, so we opted for a picnic in Golden Gate Park.
This nixed the BART and Fulton bus idea. We needed to tote picnic baskets, food, beverage, blankets, chairs, coolers, cutting boards, and other accoutrements. This required a car but we couldn’t all fit in it, so we split into two groups of four. Susan, Gino, his friend Patricia, and I took BART at 8 a.m. Friday. Fellow local friends Bud and Sandy Donaldson drove with Deb and Carl Kittrell at 9 a.m. straight to the park.
Gino and Patricia had just flown in from Philadelphia and wanted to spend the night in San Francisco, so we booked a room at the Sir Francis Drake off Union Square. Our group exited BART at Powell with luggage, walked the few blocks, checked in, and grabbed a cab to de Young. We agreed to meet at 11 a.m. and found each other at the fountain at exactly that.
All eight of us were teenagers in 1967 so the Summer of Love Experience was like old home week, except that none of us were teenagers in San Francisco. It was a celebration of the local scene. We knew a lot of the names, places, and events that had earned national notoriety. The rest was a learning experience.
On the way in I challenged people to see who could first spot the names Timothy Leary, Ken Kesey, and Allen Ginsberg. Right inside the door Carl spotted a book shelf with three books on it: “Howl,” “Cuckoo’s Nest” and “The Psychedelic Experience.”
Photographs, posters, newsletters, and clothing made up the lion’s share of the exhibit. There was no Kesey bus, only a life-sized poster of it. The summer of love didn’t leave behind a lot of tangible physical artifacts. It wasn’t like an exhibit on gold mining or dinosaurs. It was an exhibit of memories, exhilarations, flashbacks, and light shows. The psychedelic room did have beanbag chairs and four LCDs filling the walls with moving colors. Carl and I spent an inordinate amount of time in there and the others had to come get us.
Actor Peter Coyote narrates if you rent the headphones. He was on the Haight Asbury scene in the 1960s, and he interviews lots of other characters who describe the various displays.
We had our picnic right beside Bud’s car in a wide patch of grass. He brought folding chairs for everyone. We had a splendid couple hours of round talk. We shared stories from the 1960s. We thought of other places to visit as embedded tourists.
Around 2 p.m. we began calling restaurants in North Beach to make reservations for eight and were rebuffed. Sorry, no tables available. Sandy was crushed. She suddenly wanted us to eat at Sotto Mare.
“Ah, we’ll find someplace to eat in North Beach,” said Gino. “Who doesn’t want to feed eight people?”
We folded up our picnic goodies, and Patricia summoned an Uber. Group two would spend another hour in the park. They had evening wear in a duffle. We needed to visit the Sir Francis for a change to long sleeves.
We agreed to meet at Tupelo Bar on Grant at 4 p.m. After a change to woolies, our group took Uber again and arrived on time. Bud’s group fell asleep in the shade, and they were late.
We needed to eat at 5 p.m. to get in line for the theater by 7 p.m. We texted them that we’d walk around the corner to Sotto Mare and try our luck. As we approached the hostess, someone called in a cancellation. Four seats opened in a packed restaurant. We took them, and the waitress took our beverage order.
The other four were parking two blocks away. I told the hostess we had four coming and to please do her best to seat them. Even the bar seats were full. We had wine. The table behind us emptied just as Carl and Bud appeared at the door. Through the magic of crossfire persuasion she seated them next to us and we all had dinner together.
Our group finished early, so we left to get the “Beach Blanket Babylon” tickets and wait in that line because it’s general seating within sections. We were back about 30 people in a line that grew to well over 100 and no show from group two. We texted them to hurry, but their phones were off. Then our line began to move inside. Just as we reached the steps, we spotted their faces in the crowd. We waved. They ran. We all got to sit together in the front row of the cabaret.

Steve Gibbs is a retired Benicia High School teacher who has written a column for The Herald since 1985.

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