Kanye wore a mask. Wayne Coyne (The Flaming Lips), a bodysuit. There was lots of denim, leather, and a handful of Chucks. Some sang the blues, some beat a drum. Big Freedia got white booties poppin’, and Kacey Musgraves left hearts to swoon. Tens of thousands of steps paced the grass of the polo field, and dust rose to a cloud. Carl the Fog blew in, and the music beat him back. A San Francisco summer saw sun. Golden Gate Park mingled hippies with hipsters, and many claimed both. Three days of music bathed the land — and when the last human life left the acres of Outside Lands to fallow, we all breathed deep of satisfaction. We’d come and gone. We’d seen and heard. And where we gave our hearts to San Francisco, its funky, eclectic festival captivated our open embrace.