At the oceanmost fringes of Balboa Street, it always feels like 1962. The old movie theater marquee. The plastic laminate–counter restaurants and untrendy bars. The Outer Richmond is a place drifting through time at its own leisurely pace. But lately there’s been a whiff of change in the fog. Maybe it began when the Balboa Theatre switched out its musty recliners for comfortable seats and started showing first-run flicks, but it wasn’t too long before the place started looking down-right jaunty.