Bar Porn – Dutch Kills – Interview with Rich Boccato

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I spent 14 years living in LIC/Astoria beginning in 1995.  My folks had sold the house I grew up in and fled, like so many other New Yorkers, to Florida’s Gold Coast.  It became, and still feels like, my home.  For two or three decades now, Astoria has been overun by Eurotrash cafes, where everyone is rolling deep in Benzes, BMWs and Range Rovers, incessantly smoking Marlboro Reds, and indulging in a massive overuse of hair product and Drakkar Noir.  Among them, there is an unnatural obsession with image and name brand recognition.  At the dime-a-dozen sidewalk cafes, you can often see a table of clowns sipping espresso in the morning, only to return from work in the evening, and see the same ones guzzling crap-ass Heinekens.  The M.O. there is to collect rent money from suckers – no one actually holds down a real job.

For a long, long time, nightlife there consisted of nothing else but a sea of Ed Hardy-sporting Greeks, Croats, Serbs and the odd Albanian, all fist pumping to obscure, crappy, repetitive house jams.  Few of them have any desire to intermingle. Thrown in for good measure, were a handful of trashy, old-man, Irish pubs – none that you would dare venture into – remnants of another time.

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Milk and Honey – “No name dropping or star-fucking”

I can’t put my finger on why exactly, but I’m huge fan of all things Speakeasy and Prohibition – peepholes, derbies, spats, suspenders, and paperboy hats.  I’m  sucker for dark, mysterious, low-key, unpopular, undiscovered and thus, sexy.  I’m particularly in lust if they have a mechanical NCR register, in lieu of the now ubiquitous (and ghastly) touchscreen Point of Sale systems.  Toss in some dim lighting, exposed brick, rustic copper ceilings, a hipster-approved 3-piece band with upright bass, aged Mahognay – and I’ll never, ever leave.

If you’ve noticed my Pub Crawl, you’ll see that most of my favorite haunts are somewhat befitting of those descriptions.  If I could have chosen my birth, I probably would have selected a period somewhere between post-Civil War Reconstruction and the turn of the 20th century.  Simplicity and authenticity were king.  Massive opportunities were left and right for the taking.  The Man pretty much let you do your thing as you pleased.  I would have thrived with my “can-do” disposition.

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