We return again for an installment of this ofttimes confusing feature, in which we ask those of you ensconced too cozily in your SF bubbles to take a step back, summon your inner C.W. Nevius, and try to understand why some folks just don't appreciate the way we do things here — if for nothing else than to enjoy an ironic chuckle at our own expense. If all of this seems too difficult, please refer to our other recurring feature, 7 Reasons to Love San Francisco, and be on your merry way.
Today's topic: people who bring their children to Burning Man
You know? It's one thing to be a hip and liberal parent whose child enjoys wheat-grass drinks, brunch at Nopa, and can rattle off the names of all The Smiths' albums. But it is quite another to be a hip and liberal parent who refuses to accept that being a parent means, finally, becoming an adult, not doing drugs anymore, and not subjecting your innocent progeny to your trance-music-listening, belly-tattoo-getting, polyamorous ways. And if you're a Burner, and it just breaks your Burner heart to think about either a) skipping Burning Man because you're a parent now, or b) leaving your child in the custody of grandparents or more sane-minded friends and making them miss out on the wonders of the playa, then perhaps you should have more carefully considered the adoption route.