By Erin Sherbert
By Howard Cole
By Erin Sherbert
By Erin Sherbert
By Leif Haven
By Erin Sherbert
By Chris Roberts
By Kate Conger
Two! Four! Six! Eight! It&185;s Tavolino That We Hate!Dog Bites was interested to learn this week that Kevin &179;Nestor Makhno&178; Keating may be planning to branch out. &179;I&185;d be happy to see two, three -- many Yuppie Eradication Projects,&178; San Francisco&185;s very own anti-sushi terrorist confides to Dog Bites. Apparently, some of Keating&185;s admirers have been discussing the possibility of forming a North Beach Yuppie Eradication Project -- modeled, of course, on the Mission campaign to reverse creeping gentrification and ensure that dishes containing ahi or caperberries are available only west of Church Street.
Of course, we hadn&185;t really thought about it till now, but North Beach is an obvious neighborhood in which to conduct an anti-gentrification campaign -- damn, bars and restaurants are opening there! And the sudden influx of nightlife-seekers has, quite naturally, come as a shock to what historically was the sleepy residential area around Columbus and Broadway. In fact, as reported last week by Side Dish columnist Harry Coverte, 15 Romolo recently posted signs warning its patrons to keep the noise level down after one highly disgruntled resident complained repeatedly to the police.
Dog Bites couldn&185;t be more sympathetic: It&185;s really disgusting the way people think they can just show up somewhere and start spending money and having a good time. In fact, it&185;s too bad the as-yet-to-be-formed-as-far-as-we-know NBYEP wasn&185;t around during the Gold Rush, when things really started to go downhill. All those miners with their pokes, ordering imported whiskies in Barbary Coast saloons -- any San Franciscan has to admit, shamefacedly, that the sheer pretentiousness of their behavior is awfully, and uncannily, familiar. Given the current appalling situation, in which the North Beach Now&185;s Best of North Beach insert in the Sunday New York Timesactually glorifies various drinking establishments -- even praising a restaurant for its bourbon selection -- we should hardly be surprised that a well-deserved backlash is finally developing.
Much as we&185;re hoping for some Carrie Nation keg-smashing-type action in the middle of Broadway (fabulous visuals!), Dog Bites fears it may be too little, too late for North Beach. Even Kevin Keating notes that the putative movement &179;would be a great idea, if they had a time machine and could go back 30 years.&178;
Not that the beatniks were much better -- after all, they did introduce the loathsomely ostentatious cappuccino-drinking trend to the masses, thereby becoming responsible for the colonization of the country by evil, $2.70-latte-selling, Third-World-labor-exploiting, pesticide-use-encouraging chains like Starbucks.
On a brighter note, however, back in the Mission things are looking up: After a hearing last week, police returned everything they seized from Keating&185;s apartment, with the exception of a tape recorder and his mountaineering ax. &179;They probably sent it to the FBI lab in D.C. to test for chips of Ford Explorer paint on the blade,&178; the indefatigable agitator tells Dog Bites.Fish! Plankton! Protein From the Sea!Of course, all this means it may be time for us to go public with a little theory we&185;ve been mulling for a while now. Humor us while we recall a time before the city was festooned with billboards for www.buystuff.com -- a time even before starry-eyed youngsters had to explain to suspicious potential landlords that they were employed by companies that did work on the World Wide Web -- the graphical portion of the Internet -- a time when people heard the word &179;gentrification&178; and thought &179;progress,&178; or maybe, &179;Cool! Affordable housing!&178;
Yes, we mean the &185;70s, when the problems faced by most major North American cities were felt to be the result of decaying urban cores -- city centers empty after 6 p.m., workers fleeing to their televisions in the antiseptic suburbs, leaving the streets of the metropolises to criminals and the poor. (Actually, remember when people left work by 6 p.m.? Anyway.)
Urban planners of the time wrung their hands: People were spending half their lives commuting, isolated in their cars and creating pollution! Retail businesses were abandoning their street-level city locations and moving to vast, soulless malls by the sides of interstates! Perfectly good buildings in the civic centers were falling into ruin! The cities&185; once-great communal spaces, which had since the time of ancient Greece been the loci of interaction and debate, were insufficiently vibrant! Pretty soon we were all going to be living in climate-controlled domes, ignorant of the principles of democracy, while kudzu claimed the Lincoln Monument!
Oh, wait. That was Logan&185;s Run. But, um, the basic point is the same.
The cure for these ills was to encourage, through government policy or colorful mural-painting projects or something -- like we said, this was the &185;70s -- people and businesses to move back into the cities. Once urban flight could be reversed, new tenants would restore the aging buildings, the very presence of large numbers of hard-working middle-class people would drive out the criminal element, retail businesses would return to serve their new customers, and property values would go up, increasing the tax base and allowing the cities to restore their crumbling infrastructures.