I chose to rerun this column because I just learned F Street lost its legal battle with the city of Encinitas and had to stop selling pornography. Hearing that made me sick. The bottom line was this: F Street's presence depressed precious property values and was consequently run out of town by a mob, and that's 100 times more immoral than whacking off with porn.
Look down. Do you see it? Right there below this column? Please, take a moment to notice the advertisement for F Street adult stores.
Look down. It's always there, week after week, my benefactor, my neighbor, my friend. (Obviously, the F Street ad is no longer beneath this column.)
Oh sure, I'm probably breaking some journalistic code by blatantly praising an advertiser in print, especially one who shares my page. But what do I care about a journalistic code when a friend is in need.
And F Street is in need indeed.
See, an adult bookstore will always be a target for public officials who wish to boost their credibility by targeting pornography. This is especially true in such a morally, shall we say “rigid,” county as San Diego.
The embattled F Street folks have been sparring with Encinitas for nearly three years now. They have endured picketers and insults and periodic shutdowns, and are merely one gavel thud away from being chased out of town permanently.
City officials are saying The F is causing a “public nuisance,” and the neighbors are concerned about fraying the moral fibers of children who might walk by.
As usual, “the children” is a red herring.
F Street stubbornly cards and denies admittance to minors. And it doesn't display any sexually explicit materials in storefronts or signage, either-it's all low-key by design. So there's really no issue with minors, just a perceived fear (the root of every witch hunt) that the children are in jeopardy, and it's just really sad because F Street strives to be a polite neighbor, which can now not be said about the city of Encinitas.
Besides, do you know what happens when you erect a culture where everything is about the children? You end up like Michael Jackson-living with llamas and zebras and carousels inside a compound called “Complete and Utter Disassociation with Reality Land.”
There was a picture in the North County Times recently that showed former Padre Tim Flannery brandishing a picket sign that read, “F Street sells sex.”
Well, scratch my pappy's ass. You don't say. Here I was thinking they sold street signs.
Flannery says “sells sex” like it's a bad thing. What Flannery hasn't considered is that the business of sex is integral to the mental health of any society. We are a stupid people to deny this. We are insane to deny the real true truth of the matter, which is that a wide variety of sexual outlets must be made available to the wide variety of sexual beings that live on this planet. Otherwise, something really, really, really fucking terrible would happen, and it would probably climax with the earth's core erupting, splintering the planet apart and ejaculating molten smegma all over the surface, killing us all.
By the way, Tim, the sex industry is especially vital to a city like San Diego. Every stinking bit as vital as your precious Padres are, or that spineless puke you call bluegrass music. But you won't see me with a picket sign outside your studio that says, “Tim Flannery sells puke music.”
The sex industry is vital to San Diego because this is a convention, tourism, military town. That's a tad ironic when you think of it, because convention, tourism, military towns usually have kick-ass sex industries. But San Diego's sex biz sucks-the worst I've ever seen. It makes me wonder what cosmic pile of dog poop did we all step in that we would have to endure all the bullshit that comes with being a convention, tourism, military town and you still can't find a decent strip bar.
Our adult nude clubs are so obscenely over-regulated that even the golden stripper pole has gone flaccid. We have crack hags for strippers because the good, clean, sexy ones have all left for the counties where they can make real money. Our “no touch” laws make a lap dance about as exciting as dinner with the Flannery family. And the only way to get city government to consider loosening restrictions is by bribing their sorry asses (allegedly).
So look down, please. That's more than just a sex ad. It is a vital organism inside a fragile social ecosystem. No more wrong than snails or fleas. (OK, remember, it's not there anymore, but look down anyway because that advertiser needs your eyeballs, too.)
Look down. That's people's lives down there. A good man built that business. Another good man stocks the shelves. They're supporting their families just like everyone else.
Look down, but don't look down upon. If you don't approve, then don't shop there. The F is not for you. The F is for Freedom-as in the freedom to operate a legal business without malicious obstruction. F is for Family-as in the right to feed it with the revenue from a legal business. And F is for First Amendment-as in we have a constitutional right to view and buy pornography, Mr. Flannery. So stop imposing your twisted ideas about morality upon me. Because you know what else F can stand for. B
Ed Decker wants you all to know that the remodel job is coming along fine, and that he found new tenants and they seem very nice, and that he promises to stop not writing very soon.