It's an understandable thing that Manhattan is being recast as a shiny, silver-and-glass futureworld in these first thirty years of the Bloomberg era. Still, the antiquated vintage looks from many disparate decades that seem to be overtaking everything from restaurants to license plates to mustaches isn't really helping anything, such as our City's sense of self. Don't get me wrong, I like many of the establishments in the Frankie's Spuntino empire! And I got sick of feeling like I was in the Jetson's every time I walked past Astor Place, too. But when the zeitgeist gets a-rolling like this, people need to chill out. With all the faux-distressed wood and tiling and all the old-timey, painted-mirror style fonts, Clinton Street is starting to feel like one of those wild west film set facades. 7