Not Middle Aged; I'm Vintage Gen X!

I realized a lifelong dream when I moved to NY's East Village, or as Comic Roger Hailes calls it, "The 1980's".

Altho I love it here, I really wish it were the actual 80's; those days before I traded in My Potential for a decade of sheer Hedonism - 10 yrs of sex/drug/raver madness, not a vacation at an all-inclusive Caribbean Resort, oh, pah-leeez!

Now, La Village de l’Este is populated by Gen X Offspring who are being denied the ability to shock or rebel against their parents, becuz their parents are totally cool, Original Gen Xers. There is something so anti-punk about borrowing your mother's old "Ramones" T-Shirt or your Dad's vintage Doc Martin's and listening to the "Sex Pistols" on your iPod-mini. And, it's even uber-anti-punk to buy those items at "Urban Outfitters". So, the Gen-X Jr.s are forced to scour for angst to fuel their baseless punkitude in the new & improved East Village; a bistro-laden, tiny-dog abundant, safe neighbourhood. I share their ennui.

The East Village circa 1980's:
*rats were the size of dogs and dogs didn't fit in a purse.
*erudite junkies on every corner imparted wisdom to those seen an unseen.
*bars were were for getting drunk, not sushi.
*People went to Afterhours and never were awake to Brunch.
*the artist-formerly-alive, Basquiat, lived in Thompkins Sq Park about where the frankenshrunk canines now frolick.
*THERE WERE NO BRIDAL SHOPS!
*A dime-bag didn’t cost $50.
*Peasants could afford the peasant-faire served at 'Veselka'.
*Tatoos and body piercings were interesting.
*Goths were thin.