Dads are the Original Hipsters

Your dad lived in San Fran before you did and he’s had the awkward tan lines to prove it.  Nestled in-between the rolling fog and bong-exhaust, in a land where grown men go to live as children and summer is the coldest winter you’ll ever have, he was a local. He’s crammed baby sized burritos into his face-hole to sober up from rebellious nights of double fisting Anchor Steam and knew the Wharf was a worse place to be than the Tenderloin. Each day he layered on the crispest wears because he knew mother nature was a bi-polar bitch in the city of micro-climates. And, then he left his heart there because he couldn’t afford an apartment big enough for you too. 

So hipsters, next time you’re sipping Blue Bottle while recovering from your late night of tank-top,  noncommittal dancing at Public Works and talking about how much better your city is than NYC, remember this…

Your dad’s partying shook the Bay Area harder than the San Andreas fault line, long before “hipster hill” was ever a place to apathetically park your ass while getting day drunk. 

P.S. Your dad’s nickname was “The San Francisco Treat” long before Rice-a-Roni stole it from him. 

Shout out to the Original Mission Mansion Crew, Chronicle Books and everyone else I miss from back home. 

Don’t forget to pick up a copy of Dads are the Original Hipsters from Amazon too. It’s filled with tons of new photos and hipster bashing. 

http://www.amazon.com/Dads-Original-Hipsters-Brad-Getty/dp/1452108854