No watch parties in the Haight. Nothing organized in the Richmond. The Marina, usually reliable for a rowdy crowd around any screen, apparently couldn't be bothered. And this is a city that will pack a bar to the rafters for a Warriors preseason game or a RuPaul's Drag Race finale.

Look, we get it. Gubernatorial debates aren't exactly appointment television. They don't have the drama of a presidential slugfest or the meme potential of a city supervisor losing their composure at a Board meeting. But the governor's race directly shapes tax policy, housing regulation, public safety funding, and the business climate that determines whether your favorite restaurant survives another year. If you care about how Sacramento spends — or wastes — your money, this stuff matters.

The irony is rich: San Francisco loves to brand itself as the most politically engaged city in America. Yard signs everywhere. Bumper stickers on every Prius. Social media bios packed with policy positions. But when it's time to actually sit down and evaluate the candidates vying to run the state? Crickets.

Part of the blame falls on the candidates themselves for failing to generate genuine excitement. Part falls on a political culture that's more performative than participatory — where signaling the right opinion matters more than understanding the actual policy. And part of it falls on us, the voters, for treating state-level politics like background noise when it arguably affects daily life more than anything happening in Washington.

So here's a modest proposal for the next debate: find a friend with a TV, grab some beers, and actually watch. You might be horrified. You might be bored. But at least you'll know what you're voting for — or against — when November rolls around. That's more than most of this city can say.