Nobody likes seeing broken-down cars or trucks rusting away in someone's front yard. Part of the reason, of course, is that it's unsightly and can be a health hazard. But I think it also has to do with the perception that anyone who keeps the rotting hulks of motor vehicles next to his or her house is low-class. Some people, I'm sure, associate decaying station wagons and vans with trailers rather than solid middle-class homes.
I think most people would be even more surprised to see such waste next to a brownstone in a fashionable part of the city. Certainly, almost nobody expects to see something like this:
in front of a landmarked brownstone in a designated historic district. But I saw that pile of bikes and parts in front of such a house in Hamilton Heights, just two blocks away from the house once owned by the man for whom the district--and a popular Broadway musical--are named.
I would love to know the story of how all of those bikes and parts ended up there.
