"Ahh… because you're real. The original element of this neighborhood. The real New York. Before these fucking rich Wall-Street-bridge-n-tunnel-fuckers took over."
This cracked Deuce up.
"Hear that, Rube? You're the real New York."
The real NY.
Every place on earth has some people that actually are "the real" place. They represent the original spirit of it. The first idea about them.
I have always thought that, when the last of those people die, the original place dies with them. It does not mean that the place that remains is not real. It is not just the same it was. It could never be the same again.