Fortunately, a strange silver lining to the darkness of those years was that-with death on every doorstep-we KNEW then in a way that few do when they are young and beautiful that time is fleeting and that everything we knew then would pass quickly away. :) To be in Gay New York in the 80s and 90s was a truly special time. What struck me is how many memories it brought back, boys I dated, tricks I boinked, friends who are buried and gone. Many of the places you lament were meaningless to me-I never understood how The View stayed in business as long as it did, it had none of the personality of its UWS sister The Break (Thursday all you can drink margarita nights or beer blast, anyone?). This around the time the Pink Panthers were formed to make the streets safer, and then famously sued-and lost!-in court for trademark infringement. Back then walking all the way to The Spike and The Eagle after midnight was honestly a bit dicey unless you walked down 22nd Street, which was so cruisy that it made it safer than the adjacent blocks. I myself remember the days 'before Chelsea became CHELSEA', before Eighth Avenue became the ultimate boywatching destination, before Splash. It is easy to forget many of those places in the wash of years now past under the bridge. What an exhausting read, and a wonderful ride.
