Glad Neal didn't die.
As he did in the misstep series finale some time back, he faked his death and escaped.
This show made New York beautiful and sunny as does no other, fixated as they are on stories representing the city as a vast, hopeless human sewer.
Neal's early 60's outfits and Peter's not so different contemporary suits were perfect for a city of art museums, investment firms, theaters, and elegant restaurants.
Good wines, gourmet dining, and fine jazz when jazz was at its finest.
Clean, shiny yellow cabs and safe picnics in the parks.
And the most amazing views of Manhattan and Lady Liberty.
Not the world of Doris Day, however.
It didn't altogether repeal the sexual revolution.
But it showed us a New York not of the riffraff who populate the city in other crime shows almost exclusively.
America's capitol in everything but politics.
Did you notice?
Even the permanently dressed-down Mazzi never wore jeans or T-shirts.
Chinos with button down the front sport shirts were as casual as he got, this brilliant con man with a taste for conspiracy theories and good French wines.
I dressed that way for high school in the early sixties.
At work, these days, I wear jeans and polo shirts, in the last few months before my retirement.
Half the American lower middle class is proud it threw away its chance at real education on vocational training, and will go to its grave telling itself it made a better choice than those who studied art history, French literature, or philosophy, regardless of economic outcomes.
This show did not share those stupidly, desperately philistine views that so dominate American pop culture.
Well, not consistently.
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