As a rule, every city, town, burg, and 'hood, no matter how mammoth or miniscule, will avidly boast the superiority of its brood, and San Francisco is no exception. Whether born-and-raised or aptly assimilated, we San Franciscans prize our peninsula above all else. And, if you want to hold your own in our beloved city by the Bay, there are numerous activities in which one is obliged to partake to ensure local caliber. Here's a short list of a few do's and don’ts and a longer list of prerequisites needed to label yourself a local.

• Enjoy Golden Gate Park as much as possible (After all, it's got some of the best grass in the world)
• Do not ride double-decker tour buses, segways, or GoCars (In fact, scoff at them whenever possible)
• Running or cycling the Golden Gate Bridge is permissible (Walking is for tourists)
• Never say you live in “NorCal," "Frisco," or "San Fran"
• Avoid Pier 39 at all costs; I don't care if both your grandmas are in town
• Take advantage of intimate neighborhood pub crawls and small local venues
• Embrace and hate the fog at the same time
• Relax and have a cocktail!

Bay to Breakers
Having survived attempted police shut downs, public pee fiascos, rain storms, and heat waves, employing the largest clean up crew since the 1989 'quake, and turning 101 yeas old this year, San Francisco’s Bay To Breakers is a positive prerequisite for local status in the City by the Bay. While still a legitimate foot race ranging from the Embarcadero (The Bay) to the Great Highway at Ocean Beach (The Breakers), the race is already won while the majority of us continue to consume kegs, prepare costumes, or rid our bodies of bothersome clothing before blasting forth into the throngs of fellow revelers. Backpacks packed with Buds (both kinds) are still tolerated by a largely lax police force, but floats with flowing suds were banned in recent year. But darlin,' do not fear, it’s still the party of the year for Frisco freaks and normals alike. 

Show at the Fillmore
You may have been nothing more than a White Rabbit to your mother’s Jefferson and your dad’s Airplane when the Summer of Love went down in ’69, but the memories your parents made, whether in San Francisco or beyond, can be realized by experiencing a show at the iconic Fillmore Auditorium. The legendary promoter Bill Graham designated the Fillmore West the incubator of flower power bands like The Jefferson Airplane, The Doors, The Who, Hendrix, Quicksilver Messenger Service, Cream, and, of course, The Grateful Dead. But that list is just the beginning of the trip, man. Intimate yet large enough to attract big-name groups, The Fillmore still draws in the highest quality acts, old and new. Keep in synch with their calendar or risk having to explain why you’ve never seen the incredible concert art covering the walls upstairs. 

Bleacher Seats at AT&T Park
Our ballpark is, according to locals, the best place in the country to catch a ball game. Situated perfectly in the ever-evolving South Beach neighborhood, boasting breathtaking views of the Bay Bridge, AT&T Park is usually sheltered from summertime fog flurries, and, on a warm day, is heaven with a side of pickle relish. Hunkering down with Giants fanatics in the bleacher seats is required whether you were born at CPMC or are a trans-American transplant. Being the least expensive seats in the stadium, the raucous revelers in the bleacher seats hurl insults at the opposing team’s outfielders and the occasional lemon wedge or garlic fry at over-zealous Dodgers fans who forget their place. Spilt beer may cover your feet and sunflower seed shells might cling to your pants, but friendly flasks are passed on chilly nights and comradery found in only the cheapest of seats keeps us coming back for more. 

Hot Day and a Swim at Baker Beach
Due, in part, to the pesky East Bay on the far side of the Caldecott Tunnel, fog is beckoned into our city by the high heat of summer days roasting the inland cities surrounding Walnut Creek. While authentic San Franciscans behold the fog as both a blessing and a curse, true blue beach days are a rare pleasure and are both cherished gems and freak anomalies. The best sandy real estate on one of our 10 or so hot days a year is Baker Beach. Approximately a mile or so long, Baker nestles in below the mansions of Sea Cliff (wave to Sharon Stone and Robin Williams) and spans all the way to the cliffs just under Land’s End. The sand is not too fine as to end up in your beer, and not so rough as to exfoliate your feet to the point of drawing blood – it's Goldilocks perfection. For those brave enough to bare all, both ends of Baker Beach are populated by folks in their birthday suits, some bronzed and bountiful and some seemingly unleashed to the sunbathers simply for hilarity’s sake. And, there you have it: a simple checklist that'll make sure you're worth your salt before you call yourself a San Franciscan.