I love these NYT hunt-for-real estate columns but have never before felt inclined to blog one. But that paragraph was just so great, right down to the name Clever (Henry M. Clever).
Clever, it turns out, is not a professional pianist. The man who slept under a grand piano is a robotics engineer.December 3, 2022
"In 2014, Mr. Clever was living in a tiny apartment in Clinton Hill, Brooklyn, with no furniture aside from a rented Steinway grand."
"At night, he would curl up on a twin mattress beneath the piano, relying on it to block the sun. By day, he would have gatherings with fellow New York University students. At one of them, Ms. Chen — a native of Zhejiang, China, who had recently arrived to study creative writing — played the piano alongside him. The two fell in love."
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19 comments:
that's sweet
thanks Althouse
At night, he would curl up on a twin mattress beneath the piano, relying on it to block the sun.
Why did he need to block the sun at night?
Maybe it's clever clickbait. If so, it worked, but they don't tell you why the sun was beating down on Clever's piano at night.
This started with the weddings page. The NYT has become Facebook or Instagram for its readers -- or that long report on family activities that people like that stick into their holiday cards
Reminds me of the scene from American in Paris when Gene Kelly dances in the door frame while Oscar Levant plays on a piano that fills the tiny apartment. Two immensely talented people working with a genius set design.
China has 12% more boys than girls in the 20’s age range. Too bad the good ones are going to school in the US and getting married to wyepepo. The Chinese boys should be pissed.
I love people who find squalor living in New York to be romantic.
"At night, he would curl up on a twin mattress beneath the piano, relying on it to block the sun."
Huh?
Remember the old joke. When the [Italians, Poles, Arabians, choose your own] were planning on sending a rocket to the Sun. "But it'll burn up as you near the Sun." "No problem, we're gonna do it at night."
"At night, he would curl up on a twin mattress beneath the piano, relying on it to block the sun."
Huh?
Remember the old joke. When the [Italians, Poles, Arabians, choose your own] were planning on sending a rocket to the Sun. "But it'll burn up as you near the Sun." "No problem, we're gonna do it at night."
Bob Boyd - my question too!
I love that column.
I love the way it legitimates my financial life choices while exposing the Times' pained, pinched, faux anti-gentrification virtue-signalling.
Plus, those pre-war park penthouses. If only they came with 100 acres between neighbors.
"The sun was shining on the sea,
Shining with all his might:
He did his very best to make
The billows smooth and bright —
And this was odd, because it was
The middle of the night…”
I have photos of the brownstone where my mom grew up. It was in a then-Polish neighborhood in Greenpoint, but looks just like those places. Of course, according to the 1940 census there were 37 other people living in the building with her, and I’m pretty sure there was no grand piano.
Once we built buildings of stone, and everyone could afford them.
Now we build them of glass, and no-one can afford them.
If you let the sun beat down on your rented Steinway you're doing it wrong...
The man who slept under a grand piano is also half a bubble off -- not that that's a bad thing.
He was still sleeping when the sun came up in the morning. Not an early riser like some people.
Mr. and Mrs. Clever?
Where's Eddie Haskell when you need him?
Not clever enough to tack a blanket over the window?
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