Being Uncool Is Cool And Being Cool Is Uncool? Or Is It The Other Way Around?

Exhibit A of why I like New York: The lemon sherbert popsicle I bought from an indie ice-cream truck at the corner of Spring and Mulberry Streets two weeks ago. Exhibit B: People are turning unused Dumpsters into swimming pools.

Exhibit K of why I don't like New York: It's cool this summer to have a (small) gut. Exhibit L: It's cool this summer to pretend you're not living comfortably, and order a six-pack for your table instead of bottle service. Exhibit M: Manhattan is a mall.

There are no Dash Snows or Karen Os in Boston -- or general scenes to speak of. In fact, until starting here six days ago, I didn't think there were any hipsters. Of course there is pretension in the air; there is anywhere with a general population that is well-educated and well-compensated. But it's not material and hype-driven. Most places accept you when come as you are. I don't know anyone who objects to that.

My ambivalence toward New York is never-ending, perhaps most cheekily expressed by the lyrics of LCD Soundsystem's "New York, I Love You, But You're Bringing Me Down," whose cheeky video, featuring Kermit the Frog, is above. An excerpt: "New York, you're safer / And you're wasting my time / Our records all show / You were filthy but fine / But they shuttered your stores / When you opened the doors / To the cops who were bored / Once they'd run out of crime."

Circa 2009, in the decentralization that dominates everything about the Internet era, do we really have to be in New York to be at the epicenter of business, arts, life, etc? To be with it? To be cool? (Can anyone understand what being cool is?) Isn't the city's current overriding legacy that of an epicenter of the global financial crisis and recession? Who knows? Sure, there's exaggeration in this post, but, at least on a personal level, the thrill I experience in New York is no longer what it once was. I'm unsure if I'm happy about that.