For Sale In Greenwich Village

(among other things)

Yesterday the husband and I ventured to Manhattan. Among the places we visited was Union Square. We wanted to take in the oddness (actual and contrived) to be found there and see what the Farmer’s Market had to offer. Sure enough, the Pigeon Lady was doing her thing.

I like the Pigeon Lady.

Sure she has her “schtick”, but I enjoy her work. It has a certain whimsy to it. Above all, I love how passersby (not just children either) interact/engage with her “brood”. Watching this makes me happy.

The fellow who writes the First Amendment in sidewalk chalk had clearly paid the premises a visit. This too is good.

What’s more, he kicked it up a notch by throwing the in the Fourth Amendment for good measure. Excellent! However, unbeknownst to me at the time, while I was taking this photo a fellow approached my husband. He asked him if he wanted to see a card trick. My husband replied as follows:

Fuck off.

It is at such moments I am reminded why I married this man. I will make it a point to remember this the next time he does something trivial that pisses me off. But I digress. After apprising me of this interaction the Mister started getting grumpy and commenced his mantra of “God, I hate these people.” I advised him to lighten up. Union Square has long been a place for misfits and malcontents. You gotta take the bad ones along with the good ones. That’s just the way it is. And then they came.

I am perusing produce. I hear shouting. Actually it was more like chanting. I was thinking to myself:

Alright, we going to have some demonstrating/rabble-rousing!

If there’s one thing yours truly loves, it is malcontents and agitators. Such people provide a check and balance to complacency. This is a good thing. Alas, it was not to be. Once I saw their placards (which read, among other things “Turn that frown upside down” and “SMILE” I knew exactly what to do. And I did it.

Here’s the deal:

All because I am not smiling and/or emitting sunshine out of every orifice does not mean I am not happy. I was already having a good time and did not need a smiling gaggle of clowns assuming I was not and demanding I do. However, it should be noted that when the above finger was dispatched I did have a smile on my face. I was following their directive. I merely tossed in a little “value-added”. Best of all, my act of mischief/churlish revolt brought smiles to other people’s faces. Laughter even. Thus when you think about it they did get what they wanted. It simply did not manifest in the manner they had planned (ADVICE: revise any/all sign copy so they request smiles sans obscene hand gestures. This is New York City after all.). Conclusion: this was a win/win for all parties involved.

Upon having our fill of Union Square we headed to the West Village. Along the way the Mister wondered aloud exactly how much one of these houses would cost. He guessed $6,000,000 – $7,000,000. I told him I thought that figure to be low. Very low.

It was on West 11th Street he pointed out this rather unusual looking townhouse.

It was not only for sale…

but sported this rather ominous “No Trespassing” sign to boot. It was at this moment is when my husband and I had our “eureka” moment. You see, gentle readers, the new(ish) facade of this building was not merely a flight of fancy on the owner’s part. It was a necessary replacement. The replacement was necessary because the original facade was blown clean off.

“FDNY responds to Weatherman townhouse explosion” by Source. Licensed under Fair use via Wikipedia.

A Little History 101: 18 West 11th Street was once occupied by a radical leftist group called the Weather Underground. While endeavoring to build bombs in the basement of said building on March 6, 1970 one detonated. Three people died as a result.  There’s a piece of New York City history for you.

Now let’s get back to my husband’s question:

How much does a townhouse— albeit in this case one with a dubious place in history which, as a result, clearly attracts “visitors” (hence the need for a “No Trespassing” sign) and may come with a ghost or two as roommates— in an “a-grade location” cost?

Without further ado, here you go:

Just shy of $13,000,000 dollars. Not surprisingly the listing makes no mention of what happened here 45 years ago. I cannot really blame the agents for seeing fit to keep quiet about it. But happened here “it” most decidedly did.

So there have you.