The problem? Once they're in, the city largely forgets they exist. What starts as a cheerful bed of succulents quickly devolves into a dirt-filled receptacle for cigarette butts, broken glass, and the occasional mystery fluid. It's the perfect metaphor for San Francisco governance: big on the gesture, allergic to the follow-through.

To be fair, some neighbors have stepped up. Volunteers across the city quietly tend to planters on their blocks, pulling weeds, planting flowers, and hauling trash. As one Bay Area resident put it, "Good on her and all the other people — like those who volunteer to pick up trash — to help make our city a bit more beautiful." That's genuinely admirable. But it also raises the obvious question: why are residents doing a job their tax dollars were supposed to cover?

Another local captured the city's prevailing attitude perfectly: "I was out picking up trash on my street and a woman leaned out the window, shook her head and said, 'Someone should do something.'" That about sums it up. In San Francisco, everyone agrees someone should act — as long as that someone is anyone but them, or the government agency that was funded to do exactly this.

One resident offered a pragmatic idea: schools should incorporate planter maintenance into community service requirements. It's not a bad thought. At least it ties civic responsibility to actual civic outcomes rather than another line item in a budget nobody audits.

Here's the uncomfortable truth: the planters weren't always about beautification. Some were installed specifically to prevent people from sleeping on sidewalks. As one local noted, "We can't take care of people, so we put up barriers to prevent their meager existences, but then we can't take care of those, either." Ouch. But accurate.

If the city wants to install street furniture, great — but build the maintenance cost into the budget before you pour the concrete. Otherwise, you're just creating future eyesores and calling it progress. San Francisco specializes in that.