Great Moments in Greenpoint Siding Volume IX
I want to open with a thought-provoking comment that was posted regarding last week’s Greenpoint siding superstar. Fisher6000 writes:
I know that your goal is to be a smart ass and that I may be taking this series too seriouslyâ€¦ but you are pointing to such a poignant truth hereâ€“that surface is the layer that matters.
I have been pondering this over the last week— and not only do I agree with Fisher6000, but I have decided to illustrate her point with this week’s selection. Albeit in a rather circuitous manner.
A number of you are already familiar with this house. While its street address is 198 Green Street, this modest two-story domicile is more commonly known as the Subzero Building. This home received the aforementioned moniker from an extremely vitriolic post yours truly wrote about it over a year ago. Here’s an excerpt:
Iâ€™m guessing this is a light fixture. The first of three to be installed along the top of this building. I for one would like to propose that upon completion these be used as gallows for the owner of this property, the â€˜designerâ€™ responsible for this â€˜design conceptâ€™ and the contractor who enabled it to happen.
OUCH! In hindsight I don’t remember who (or what) pissed in my Cheerios this particular morning, but I certainly had a bug up my ass. I had a point to get across and that point was unequivocally made: I hate this building.
As with most things in life, what goes around comes around. Last month I got my well-deserved comeuppance. Many of you know that I marched in the Mermaid Parade this year, but would anyone like to hazard a guess who I ended up meeting immediately afterwards?
The owner of the Subzero building, that’s who.
Subzero Owner: Hey, are you Miss Heather of New York Shitty?
S.O.: I’m the owner of the house you riffed on.
Me: The Subzero building!?!
I was pretty frazzled at the time (marching around in a dress that weighed ten pounds while slathered in caramel syrup will do that to a person), so I cannot recount exactly what was said between us. But I do vividly remember thinking to myself “Wow, this man is a damned nice guy!” Had the shoe been on the other foot, I doubt I would have had even a tenth of the class this man exhibited.
And that’s the funny thing: since meeting this gent I don’t harbor the rancor I used to have towards this house. In fact, I have kind of grown to like it in a strange sort of way. Sure, sheet metal-sheathed buildings are not my taste— but I’d much rather have a nice person who lives in an “ugly” house as a neighbor than a raging asshole— even if he or she lives in an architectural masterpiece. After all, if I wanted the latter I would have moved to Park Slope.
Think about it.