Live From New York: Turning 50 With 'Saturday Night Live'

Saturday Night Live and I turn 50 this year. It’s been fun, and a little sad, to walk down memory lane with this show through all of the anniversary specials. As a true Gen Xer, I was raised semi-feral and spent a lot of Saturday nights sneaking back into the living room after bedtime to catch a glimpse of SNL from my hiding spot behind the couch. I hardly ever made it past the opening monologue. Sometimes I would listen to sketches or musical guests from my bedroom until I was old enough to outlast my parents in staying up late — a battle I’m on the other side of now with my own kid. Whether I was watching it or not, Saturday Night Live felt intrinsic to being a New Yorker. It’s something that belongs to us that we choose to share with the world, like The Ramones and The Beastie Boys. (You’re welcome.)

The history of New York City is intricately interwoven into the history of Saturday Night Live. During the SNL50 Anniversary Special, John Mulaney captured and lampooned that shared history perfectly in the big musical number he wrote for the occasion. It started with David Spade and Pete Davidson Midnight Cowboy-ing their way through 1975 Times Square, where Mulaney’s hot dog vendor tells them it’s a terrible time to move to NYC because the city is on the verge of death, with nothing to offer but hot dogs and heroin.

The sketch included parodies of some classic NYC songs from Fame, Little Shop Of Horrors, Hamilton, and Les Mis to take us through the iterations of New York City from the ’70s, ’80s, ’90s, and the current era when everyone is worried about getting run over by e-bikes. The only thing missing were appearances by Ed Koch and David Dinkins. OK, fine, they skipped Beame, too, but I feel like everyone tends to skip Beame. Mulaney’s not a native, so he’s mostly forgiven for overlooking the mayors of my childhood. Nathan Lane singing about cocaine and martinis to the tune of “Hakuna Matata” covers a multitude of sins, but I may require a make-up musical number just for Ed and David.

The point of the musical was that New York City has been considered down for the count plenty of times by politicians, celebrities, influencers, and fearmongers. In the same way, Saturday Night Live has been declared dead repeatedly over the past 50 years. But, just like the city that gave birth to the show, it has squeaked its way through the lean years only to reinvent itself and rise again and again. New York and her denizens know how to dust ourselves off and defy expectations. Reports of our deaths have been greatly exaggerated in the past and probably will be in the future. We’re harder to keep down than Pizza Rat and the majestic pigeon.

In our fiftieth year, neither I nor the Saturday Night Live of 1975 would recognize ourselves. Just like the city, we remake ourselves as necessary. We lose our footing and regain it. We shed unnecessary weight and let loose those things and people we’ve outgrown. Or we say goodbye to those who have outgrown us. But we’re still here. Me, the city, and Saturday Night Live.

Happy Anniversary to New York’s greatest cultural ambassador. And happy birthday to me; thanks for the party, SNL.