TRICKS ARE FOR KIDS

It’s only been about ten years since I got my fake i.d. at age 15, yet it feels like a lifetime. Don’t get my “vigorous” 25 twisted either. Spending 4 out of 7 days a week charged solely on last night’s erection of New York’s nightlife will age anyone beyond their years. This old fart is speaking for himself. I never thought the day would come where I’d echo the words of my parents, “I remember when I was your age…” That day is everyday. While most nostalgic hipsters (born PAST ’88) fawn over the ‘80s (dressed as painted Easter eggs in skinny jeans), I am at least in awe over a time when I truly lived the moment—the late ‘90s.

I would never front like I was getting it poppin’ in the historic Limelight, or Palladium back in the day, but I can clearly recount many of my Sunday nights partying in Speed and NV. Old men like me don’t brag, they tell stories. As for what I learned in high school, I draw blanks. And so should today’s restless youth, with as much party crashing as they do. Still, today’s poor excuse for a sinner’s paradise deserves a shot of adrenaline in the vein of yesteryear’s indulgence of nocturnal debauchery—sex, and drugs. Fortunately, kids stuck on the past can get the reality check they need from now on every Thursday when I deejay at NoCa, 323 West Broadway between Grand and Canal St.