July 16, 2004
Word of his demise has been greatly exaggerated.
I mistakenly rushed an old family friend, Pyke Johnson, to an early grave last week by mentioning that I’d heard he died. Wrong. Moved from Greenwich is not the same as dying; in fact, some would say it was a rebirth. Pyke, a long time editor at Doubleday, was (and presumably still is) incredibly active in retirement, penning a column for Greenwich Time, volunteering at Perrot Library and (this is where I originally got in trouble) assisting at the Old Greenwich Book Store. I don’t know what he’s doing now but he’s not, as they say of former writers, decomposing.
151 Riverside Avenue
While we’re revisiting past stories, I draw the reader’s attention one final time (until the next time) to the floor area ratio mess by inviting them to drive by 151 Riverside Avenue and observe the new house that’s being framed there. Look at the garage. See the nicely pitched roof over the garage and notice that the space under that roof has been rendered entirely unusable by a forest of braces. Why? Because, under our FAR regulations, attic space counts as part of the calculation unless no one, not even a mouse, can fit inside it. The builder is not “cheating” here, or doing anything unethical. I presume that he wanted a decent design and, in this neighborhood, that usually includes pitched, rather than flat roofs. His choice, then, would have been between sacrificing a garage attic or a bedroom and he made the right choice.
But how does losing an attic accomplish FAR’s stated objective? Actually, I’m not sure that an intelligent objective for FAR has ever been stated but, as I understand its proponents, we impose these bulk limitations in order to preserve our streetscape, to keep all houses in a given area roughly the same size and height. And building an attic, then filling it with braces accomplishes this how? Viewed from the exterior, the house is exactly the size, height, shape, etc. it would have been in the absence of FAR regulations. The only difference is that, inside, someone can’t use an attic. A triumph of something, I suppose, but of what? Not logic. Perhaps RTM member and FAR advocate Franklin Bloomer should hop on his bicycle, take a look at this house and then explain to us all, once again, what exactly FAR is for and how it is preserving our town. Because I don’t get it.
To Market to Market
Regardless of the dormancy in most of the market, some properties are still being snapped up as soon as they hit the MLS hotsheet. Jane Basham’s 46 Terrace Avenue in Riverside, which sold just a few months ago for $902,042 in a bidding war was fixed up over the spring and returned to the market at $1,825,000. There were those—I was not among them—who thought Terrace couldn’t support that price range. They were proved wrong when this house went immediately to contract. Ledge Road, on the other hand, is one of the best streets in Old Greenwich so no one was surprised when Rose Mary McMullen (Cleveland, Duble & Arnold) priced the tiny two bedroom cottage on 10 Ledge at $1,299,000—bigger houses on Ledge can easily command four million and up. I really liked this house, even though it backs up to wetlands which will constrain expansion but I was a little surprised to learn that it had drawn at least six offers by the end of the first weekend. It was gone by Sunday night. Also gone is Carolyn Anderson’s (Anderson Associates) 11 Relay Place listing. The original house, built in 1919 as a honeymoon cottage (gee, thanks, Dad) perches on Mill Pond and has just a great view of the water along with a fieldstone fireplace that must have provided a nifty ambiance for the newlyweds. Three bedrooms up, one in-law bedroom, bath and door in the cellar. $1,135,000 and, as I mentioned, gone instantly along with, I believe, the two building lots spun off the original homestead at $700,000 (0.22 acre, also on Mill Pond) and $625,000 (0.17 acre, interior lot) respectively. I’m glad for Carolyn’s success, naturally, but I’m also grateful for her establishing some fresh comparative prices for those of us who trying to evaluate Cos Cob lots. When the market keeps going up it becomes difficult to take a sale from, say, ten months ago and try to extrapolate. I hope we don’t have to ever try extrapolating downward over the months but, right now, as theses sales demonstrate, that’s very much not a worry.
I mistakenly rushed an old family friend, Pyke Johnson, to an early grave last week by mentioning that I’d heard he died. Wrong. Moved from Greenwich is not the same as dying; in fact, some would say it was a rebirth. Pyke, a long time editor at Doubleday, was (and presumably still is) incredibly active in retirement, penning a column for Greenwich Time, volunteering at Perrot Library and (this is where I originally got in trouble) assisting at the Old Greenwich Book Store. I don’t know what he’s doing now but he’s not, as they say of former writers, decomposing.
151 Riverside Avenue
While we’re revisiting past stories, I draw the reader’s attention one final time (until the next time) to the floor area ratio mess by inviting them to drive by 151 Riverside Avenue and observe the new house that’s being framed there. Look at the garage. See the nicely pitched roof over the garage and notice that the space under that roof has been rendered entirely unusable by a forest of braces. Why? Because, under our FAR regulations, attic space counts as part of the calculation unless no one, not even a mouse, can fit inside it. The builder is not “cheating” here, or doing anything unethical. I presume that he wanted a decent design and, in this neighborhood, that usually includes pitched, rather than flat roofs. His choice, then, would have been between sacrificing a garage attic or a bedroom and he made the right choice.
But how does losing an attic accomplish FAR’s stated objective? Actually, I’m not sure that an intelligent objective for FAR has ever been stated but, as I understand its proponents, we impose these bulk limitations in order to preserve our streetscape, to keep all houses in a given area roughly the same size and height. And building an attic, then filling it with braces accomplishes this how? Viewed from the exterior, the house is exactly the size, height, shape, etc. it would have been in the absence of FAR regulations. The only difference is that, inside, someone can’t use an attic. A triumph of something, I suppose, but of what? Not logic. Perhaps RTM member and FAR advocate Franklin Bloomer should hop on his bicycle, take a look at this house and then explain to us all, once again, what exactly FAR is for and how it is preserving our town. Because I don’t get it.
To Market to Market
Regardless of the dormancy in most of the market, some properties are still being snapped up as soon as they hit the MLS hotsheet. Jane Basham’s 46 Terrace Avenue in Riverside, which sold just a few months ago for $902,042 in a bidding war was fixed up over the spring and returned to the market at $1,825,000. There were those—I was not among them—who thought Terrace couldn’t support that price range. They were proved wrong when this house went immediately to contract. Ledge Road, on the other hand, is one of the best streets in Old Greenwich so no one was surprised when Rose Mary McMullen (Cleveland, Duble & Arnold) priced the tiny two bedroom cottage on 10 Ledge at $1,299,000—bigger houses on Ledge can easily command four million and up. I really liked this house, even though it backs up to wetlands which will constrain expansion but I was a little surprised to learn that it had drawn at least six offers by the end of the first weekend. It was gone by Sunday night. Also gone is Carolyn Anderson’s (Anderson Associates) 11 Relay Place listing. The original house, built in 1919 as a honeymoon cottage (gee, thanks, Dad) perches on Mill Pond and has just a great view of the water along with a fieldstone fireplace that must have provided a nifty ambiance for the newlyweds. Three bedrooms up, one in-law bedroom, bath and door in the cellar. $1,135,000 and, as I mentioned, gone instantly along with, I believe, the two building lots spun off the original homestead at $700,000 (0.22 acre, also on Mill Pond) and $625,000 (0.17 acre, interior lot) respectively. I’m glad for Carolyn’s success, naturally, but I’m also grateful for her establishing some fresh comparative prices for those of us who trying to evaluate Cos Cob lots. When the market keeps going up it becomes difficult to take a sale from, say, ten months ago and try to extrapolate. I hope we don’t have to ever try extrapolating downward over the months but, right now, as theses sales demonstrate, that’s very much not a worry.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home