When I first moved to Astoria in 1998 (ten years ago right about now, in fact), I was biking around, exploring way up in the northern end of the neighborhood.

Up in this mostly industrial area, I found a weird block that felt almost like I was back in Indiana, where I’d just come from. At the start of the block, there were sidewalks and warehouses. Then the sidewalks fell away, the street got narrower, and the trees met overhead. The street went up a little hill, and all of the sudden I felt like I was in the country.

At the top of the hill was a big, tumble-down house, surrounded with an overgrown yard. Dogs barked behind a scraggly fence. But the house was huge and gorgeous, well past its prime–the kind of deeply flawed thing you fall in love with and spend the rest of your life regretting.

Then I biked on, back down the hill, and the sidewalks returned, and the city fabric stitched right up behind me. I felt like I’d passed through a little hole into a fantasy world for a second–or at least a spooky young-adult novel.

I spent the next few years imagining myself living in this house, on this country-in-the-city block.

And then I found out the place wasn’t just any old house–it was the Steinway Mansion. (Yes, the Steinways. The piano factory is still here, and you can take tours.) I knew the place was big–but I didn’t know it was a gen-yoo-ine mansion!

The Steinway Mansion is no longer owned by the Steinway family, but by a man of Armenian descent whose father bought it in the early 20th century. The current owner has spent most of his life and money trying to keep the place up.

I admit that when I first read about this, I sent the owner a letter, asking if I could come take a look around. That was in 2005. Still no answer.

But now, I read, the Steinway Mansion is for sale! I guess I can just pretend I have $4 million to throw down, and take a tour of the 25 rooms with the agent.

I was going to say the brokers could spot a poser from a mile away, but then I looked at the listing. I don’t think these brokers are used to dealing with such big-ticket items.

One tip-off: for $4 million, can’t you at least get your photos rotated properly?

Peter suggested that maybe that’s how the rooms really are. And those photos are actual size. No wonder it didn’t look like much of a mansion when I first biked by.

Spare change, anybody? I’ve got a really good credit score, so I can probably get by with a pretty low down payment…