Sorry, Dave Chappelle. San Francisco doesn’t need Batman, and it doesn’t need you

Tony Bennett said it best in his 1962 classic, “I Left My Heart In San Francisco.”

The song chronicles stops in wonderful cities, but ones that aren’t home. And try as he might, the pull of the city is too strong to ignore.

“'I’m going home to my city by the Bay.”

“I left my heart in San Francisco.”

“High on a hill, it calls to me.”

I get you, Tony. And I felt the same way.

While I work in Santa Rosa, the place I call home is 63 miles south in San Francisco — a city whose charms and stories are legendary, but it’s a place that has been negatively depicted in public discourse lately.

Conservative politicians are quick to harp on its liberal policies. CNN recently devoted an entire special last weekend to identifying what’s wrong with the city.

Comedian Dave Chappelle weighed in, asking the audience at a surprise show in San Francisco’s own Nob Hill neighborhood, “What the f**k happened to this place?”

He also said, San Francisco has become a “half ‘Glee,’ half-zombie movie.” Whatever that means.

On Monday, Twitter and Tesla’s CEO Elon Musk, got in on it, too, when he tweeted, “The disaster that is downtown SF, once bea(u)tiful and thriving, now a derelict zombie apocalypse, is due to the woke mind virus.”

San Francisco has its problems, but the numbers tell a different story than the one the critics want you to hear.

Yes, fashion retailer Anthropologie has left. Nordstom is following close behind with its chief store officer citing “changing dynamics” and an increase in crime as reasons for the luxury store’s departure.

But the truth is, crime is actually down. As is homelessness.

In 2020, San Francisco’s violent crime rate ranked 14th out of 23 cities with populations over 750,000 in the United States, which is lower than New York, Seattle and Dallas, according to reporting in the San Francisco Chronicle.

And homeless numbers dropped 3.5% from 2019 to 2022, according to Point-In-Time Homeless Counts, which is conducted once every two years in order to receive federal funding for homelessness services.

But apparently, San Francisco “needs f***ing Batman,” Chappelle — a native of Washington, D.C., a city with a few flaws of its own — said in his rant.

This assumption was made after he had one dinner in the Tenderloin, a neighborhood that’s always had a tough reputation. The Tenderloin is a gritty hub for the homeless, dive bar enthusiasts and drug users.

Only a tourist would venture into the Tenderloin without knowing what they were getting into.

Goodbye, Gilroy. Hello, SF

Growing up in the rural agricultural town of Gilroy, I knew I wanted out the second I had my chance. I’d make a break for it if it came down to that. In, 2009, I got my chance. I was accepted at San Francisco State where, for four years, I worked toward a degree in journalism.

My reporting assignments sent me covering the family-owned businesses in Noe Valley, city council meetings at San Francisco City Hall, observing the Sit-lie Ordinance at Haight-Ashbury and even a story covering the Tenderloin People’s Garden.

And not once did I turn down an assignment or neighborhood because of its name or reputation. I wanted to know who and what made this city.

In between assignments and classes, I would hang out with friends in Ingleside, go clubbing in South Beach, wander around West Portal and soak up the history of Castro. This city and its people brought diversity, new perspectives, situations and a deeper understanding of what the world looks like.

Santa Rosa isn’t for me

After graduation, my career took me to Baltimore and Asbury Park, N.J., before I found my way back to the Bay Area and landed in Santa Rosa six years ago.

I called Wine Country home for three years, but my time in Santa Rosa felt more like I was standing still.

When people ask how I liked living there, I say it felt like a relationship that was good on paper. It technically worked, but there was this feeling — a disconnect — that continued to grow as I continued to stay.

There’s the exciting food scene, but I’m not a foodie. It’s Wine Country, but I’m not that into wine. Perhaps it was something subconscious that left me wanting to keep Santa Rosa at arm’s length.

What I do know, is that Santa Rosa, while beautiful, is too quiet for me. It’s too slow. There’s no hustle, no bustle. And I desperately needed hustle and bustle in my life. At 31, I’m not quite ready for the simple suburban life.

Five months after I moved to Santa Rosa, the 2017 wildfires roared through Sonoma County. I remember the flames of the Tubbs Fire racing down the massive hills near my Rincon Valley apartment.

I grabbed my dog, packed a suitcase, some sentimental items and drove downtown to a friend’s house where the threat of the fire reaching us wasn’t as great.

That drive from Highway 12 to Klute Street took over an hour when normally it took 15 minutes. During that drive, I thought about those who already lost their homes, and their lives, and what I would do if my apartment was gone. I tried to rationalize the situation by telling myself, this was a one-time disaster and would never happen again.

I was wrong.

Three years later, I was on a weekend trip to Monterey to celebrate my birthday, and as I was returning to Santa Rosa via Highway 101, I heard that the Glass Fire was headed toward Sonoma County. I quickly got to my apartment only to pack a few more items and leave for refuge in Gilroy.

This was how I rang in my 29th birthday.

To this day, I can’t smell a barbecue or a beach fire without thinking of a wildfire. Like many constant PG&E outages, the looming threat of fire season and hot summers in Sonoma County contributed to me leaving.

I knew early on, I wasn’t going to stay in Santa Rosa long-term. It was a pit stop for me, just like it was for Chappelle, who stopped by to perform five shows at Luther Burbank Center for the Arts in July.

It’s interesting how he didn’t cast a critical eye on Santa Rosa the way he did San Francisco, or maybe he did, but not on a public platform or on stage.

I’m sure he didn’t stop by the Joe Rodota Trail on his visit. Santa Rosa and Sonoma County have been working on tackling encampments along the trail for years.

And like downtown San Francisco, downtown Santa Rosa has seen plenty of businesses board up and then leave town, like Made Local, Mary’s Pizza Shack and Favorite Things. City officials are hoping to change this trend by investing money in redevelopment and housing.

Beyond downtown, Santa Rosa has seen more beloved retailers shut their doors. At Montgomery Village, Prima Linens, Clutch and Classic Duck have closed this year. An Railroad Square, Disguise the Limit Costumes and Rentals shuttered after 43 years in business.

My point being, there’s a larger trend happening across the state that isn’t limited to San Francisco.

Finding my way back to San Francisco

Before I could leave Santa Rosa and find my way back to San Francisco three years ago, I had some issues to resolve. I was ready to accept the city again, but would it take me back?

In 2013, shortly after graduating college, I was a part-time social media intern at a nonprofit and working full-time at a sports bar at Pier 39. Three days a week, my day started at 7 a.m. and ended at 2 a.m. In between those days, I’d work more than an eight-hour shift, hoping to snag as many tips I could to pay rent because city living isn’t cheap.

After a few months, I’d had enough.

I was physically, emotionally and spiritually spent by the time I left San Francisco. I hated this city. I didn’t respect it. I didn’t want to keep running myself into the ground to pay rent at the house I shared with five roommates at Ocean Beach.

My relationship with San Francisco was just that … a relationship. One that worked until it didn’t. It required a breakup, but deep down I longed to return and, I slowly inched my way back into its good graces.

When I moved back in late 2020, I joked with my friends that I was “dating” the city.

We’d both changed after about five years apart, and I wanted to ease into things. Well, yes, there was that and also a pandemic raging around us.

I started urban hiking and criss-crossed the city from Bayview Hunter’s Point to West Portal to the Outer Richmond. I ran up and down massive hills in Potrero Hill and Buena Vista. I bought a bike and rode it through North Beach, the Presidio and the Marina.

I took my time to get to know the city again.

And it has been working on itself. Mental health services and affordable housing are just a few issues the city continues to address. There’s still work to be done and no one is denying that.

Mayor London Breed hopes to halve the number of those who identify as homeless in the city with a 5-year plan and $600 million invested in the project. Breed recently said $6 million would be invested into the Powell Street corridor near Union Square, a spot where tourists frequent for shopping and cable car rides.

This is also one block south from the Tenderloin.

My advice to Chappelle, if he chooses to come back, is to stay curious about San Francisco and its residents. Explore a little and learn something. Or stick to the Marina neighborhood. Maybe he’ll find solace in making tech bros laugh over espresso martinis.

For me, I’ll stick with my 63-mile commute to The Press Democrat newsroom. I’ll happily take Karl the Fog welcoming me home as he twists and turns in between the Golden Gate Bridge. I’ll drive the tunnels through the Presidio and smile at the families carrying grocery bags though Chinatown.

I’ll always keep an eye out for the tourists looking at the flashing neon lights of the strip clubs in North Beach. And I’ll take the handfuls of tents along the tourist trap of the Embarcadero.

I appreciate you, Santa Rosa, but San Francisco is my home.

I’m not leaving.

And I don’t need Batman or Chappelle to convince me otherwise.