Two weeks ago I was in the East Village, walking along St. Marks between Avenue A and 1st. It was a part of town I haven't spent much time in in recent years. Ahead I saw a guy doing some sort of work at the base of a lamppost. He was a little more grizzled than I remembered, but I recognized him. It was Jim Power, now known I thought, wow, old Jim, a man out of his time (not any more grizzled than me, but still...). In my mind, he was a representative of the '80s East Village, when the neighborhood was poor, run down, often politically radical, and in turmoil. He remembered me, of course. When I was doing my Real Life Funnies comic strips in the Village Voice, I created a two-part series on