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Abstract

ard-worthy but he’s not going to lose it anytime soon.</p><p id="5c7d">Sometimes developers find themselves almost outmatched as when Tamarkin Company, a New York-based developer, tried to buy the air rights to a one-story Citibank on the corner of East 91st and Madison in 1999. Outraged, I tell you the neighbors were outraged. They were also Bette Midler, Paul Newman, Kevin Kline, and Woody Allen. And these fine upstanding New Yorkers weren’t having it. They marshaled their considerable clout and got the city’s Landmarks Preservation Commission to <a href="http://nymag.com/nymetro/realestate/neighborhoods/features/4521/">reject the developer’s 17 story tower.</a></p><h2 id="8ada">This, however, was not the end of the story</h2><p id="ef80">Take an M4 bus up Madison Avenue the next time you’re in the city and check out the (you guessed it) 17 story tower at 91st and Madison.</p><p id="e0e5">The developers prevailed, Woody Allen sold his place for a quick $14 million and no one even thinks about it anymore. Well, if they do, no one’s listening to them anymore. You lost your view? You poor things! However will you cope? There, there. Have some tea.</p><h2 id="fb7e">Zero view and a marshal’s notice on the door</h2><p id="4cef">The day I came to look at the apartment I have called home for the past 17+ years it was sleeting and cold and miserable. I got up to the fifth floor and found a marshal’s notice on the door. Before I could read it the super opened the door (I found out later that the previous tenant was evicted for selling drugs and, I’m guessing, eviction was the least of his worries).</p><p id="bcaf">There is very little special about this apartment. And less when it was empty except for a few stray buckets from the recent paint job sitting around. It’s not particularly big, maybe about 500 square feet. The bedroom is big enough fo

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r a queen-sized bed that you can walk around, two dressers and two nightstands. The living room has just enough room for our respective workspaces, a decent-sized flat-screen TV, a comfortable sofa and a catch-all desk. And a scratching post for the <a href="https://readmedium.com/my-3000-street-rescue-1a4a0015d12b">cat</a>.</p><figure id="9839"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*Xwx1VASo92x1uL0E8ppowg.png"><figcaption>Looking down from the living room window</figcaption></figure><p id="3588">About that view. Somehow, we seem to have views towards the “back” of the building on both sides although that does mean that we get a blessed bit of a cross breeze in the summer, and on both sides, our view is of walls of windows.</p><p id="253a">Although, given that we’re on the fifth floor of a six-story building that is surrounded mostly by other six-story buildings, we do have some sunlight and a wee bit of sky that I can see from where I write when I look out the window next to me.</p><p id="c527">And, outside that window is Project Create, the pre-release center for guys coming out of Riker’s Island and, loud and obnoxious as those guys can be, I sure hope they hang onto their property. But there are no guarantees and nothing lasts forever.</p><h2 id="0e4b">C’est la vie</h2><p id="4070">When I said there was nothing special about this apartment I was being a bit dishonest. It’s a rent-stabilized, one-bedroom apartment two blocks from Central Park and the 2/3 train. <i>That</i> is quite special. And any time I want a view, I can walk ten minutes and be in the North Woods of Central Park. <i>And</i> we still have the best super in New York City, Lord Kent, who is also an amazing calypso singer.</p><p id="29e1">Who needs a view?</p><p id="8d90"><i>© Remington Write 2020. All Rights Reserved</i></p></article></body>

So You Lost Your View?

You’re breaking my heart

My friend, Peter, lived in the same apartment on Mott St. and East Houston for like two thousand years or something equally ridiculous. While his newly arrived neighbors were paying upwards of $3000 for what were essentially cubicles with loft beds, he crowed about his $425 rent.

Now, let’s be clear, his apartment was also a cubicle with a loft bed and it was on the fifth floor of an ancient tenement with high ceilings and worn-smooth stone steps.

Elevator? You’re kidding.

But for years Peter had the most breathtaking view of the Empire State Building and all of Midtown stretching off into the dim reaches of uptown. He gloried in that view. Or at least that’s what he told us all when those rotten developers began building that “Stalinist monstrosity” that was going to block his view.

It’s one of the oldest and most tiresome of New York stories. Some evil developer buys up the low rise building next to yours, blasts a hole in the bedrock and starts building. And you get to kiss your view and any semblance of natural light goodbye.

When Neil left The Breadbox on 23rd Street and moved uptown, he chose an apartment across the street from a Catholic church and school. His view from the third floor may not be postcard-worthy but he’s not going to lose it anytime soon.

Sometimes developers find themselves almost outmatched as when Tamarkin Company, a New York-based developer, tried to buy the air rights to a one-story Citibank on the corner of East 91st and Madison in 1999. Outraged, I tell you the neighbors were outraged. They were also Bette Midler, Paul Newman, Kevin Kline, and Woody Allen. And these fine upstanding New Yorkers weren’t having it. They marshaled their considerable clout and got the city’s Landmarks Preservation Commission to reject the developer’s 17 story tower.

This, however, was not the end of the story

Take an M4 bus up Madison Avenue the next time you’re in the city and check out the (you guessed it) 17 story tower at 91st and Madison.

The developers prevailed, Woody Allen sold his place for a quick $14 million and no one even thinks about it anymore. Well, if they do, no one’s listening to them anymore. You lost your view? You poor things! However will you cope? There, there. Have some tea.

Zero view and a marshal’s notice on the door

The day I came to look at the apartment I have called home for the past 17+ years it was sleeting and cold and miserable. I got up to the fifth floor and found a marshal’s notice on the door. Before I could read it the super opened the door (I found out later that the previous tenant was evicted for selling drugs and, I’m guessing, eviction was the least of his worries).

There is very little special about this apartment. And less when it was empty except for a few stray buckets from the recent paint job sitting around. It’s not particularly big, maybe about 500 square feet. The bedroom is big enough for a queen-sized bed that you can walk around, two dressers and two nightstands. The living room has just enough room for our respective workspaces, a decent-sized flat-screen TV, a comfortable sofa and a catch-all desk. And a scratching post for the cat.

Looking down from the living room window

About that view. Somehow, we seem to have views towards the “back” of the building on both sides although that does mean that we get a blessed bit of a cross breeze in the summer, and on both sides, our view is of walls of windows.

Although, given that we’re on the fifth floor of a six-story building that is surrounded mostly by other six-story buildings, we do have some sunlight and a wee bit of sky that I can see from where I write when I look out the window next to me.

And, outside that window is Project Create, the pre-release center for guys coming out of Riker’s Island and, loud and obnoxious as those guys can be, I sure hope they hang onto their property. But there are no guarantees and nothing lasts forever.

C’est la vie

When I said there was nothing special about this apartment I was being a bit dishonest. It’s a rent-stabilized, one-bedroom apartment two blocks from Central Park and the 2/3 train. That is quite special. And any time I want a view, I can walk ten minutes and be in the North Woods of Central Park. And we still have the best super in New York City, Lord Kent, who is also an amazing calypso singer.

Who needs a view?