For Our Consideration: The dream of the ’90s is (barely) alive in Brooklyn: A tale of horror and survival
Saturday, September 12, 12:23 p.m. — G train en route to Greenpoint Ave stop
I’m sitting on a train being laughed at by a group of teenagers. I’m wearing baggy, ripped jeans and a Cat In The Hat hat. They point and snigger, while I gamely try to join in the mocking good cheer by staring uncomfortably off into the distance and pretending I’m elsewhere, anywhere, besides here. Finally, we hit the Hoyt-Schermerhorn stop, and they hop up and file out. As the last kid passes by me, and the doors start to close, I hear him mutter, “Nice hat, asshole.”
And honestly, I couldn’t agree more.
I am here to cover 90sFest, the latest idea in packaged nostalgia and ironic kitsch, only now in handy festival form. It’s part of the Brooklyn Live At The Inlet concert series, produced in tandem with the …