Old New York Tropes and Trends That Should Come Back

Let's make this so-called dystopia look fun!

If you listen to that one person on Twitter that you probably had never heard of until they went viral for tweeting “Never in my entire life have I felt the fear, tension, and anxiety I feel living in NYC right now. The city is like a ticking time bomb. Like everytime I step outside my apartment something bad could happen,” then you might think maybe New York City is a dangerous place. But fear not! I can confirm New York City is, well, New York City. It always has been and likely will always stay that way. It’s a city! Good things happen and bad things happen. The only difference is we throw our trash right out on the sidewalk. What a great idea!

But, just for sake of argument, let’s say the naysayers are right. Maybe NYC is turning into a dystopian hellscape and people like me are just too dumb to notice or admit it. If that’s truly the case, I have a few requests.

Bring back the dodgy hepcat.

You know what I mean. Think cool hats, guys who stay up until the sun is coming up playing their saxophone with one foot outside the window, people that look like they live life in black and white. I believe the proper term for this is Jarmuschian.

More bars where 75 percent of the light comes from neon signs and they serve beers in those smaller glasses.

Bars are too fancy now. People seem too happy in them. Make them depressing again. Somewhere a Gene Hackman cop character might hang out after a tough shift or Peter Falk and John Cassavetes might go in a movie scene that is supposed to represent how dysfunctional their friendship is.

Up the Doo-Wop

All you need is a couple of guys, a mix of Black, Italian, Puerto Rican, a couple of Jews, and a white redhead with freckles that everybody calls “Blinky” or something like that. Guys from “the neighborhood” just stand outside around a fire in a trash can and harmonize. That’s beautiful. That’s not only the New York City I want, but the America I want.

More guys opening up their jackets and trying to sell you a watch that’s hidden in them.

This is technically a small business and we should support it.

More people named “Ratso.”

The fifth and final thing I’d like to see more of seems like a simple ask. This is going to be the summer of the rat, and to commemorate that, start randomly calling a friend “Ratso.” And maybe call one of your skinniest friends “Fats” and then call your friend with a cocaine habit “Toots.” Let’s just bring back nicknames and start with upping the Ratso population.