I live on the fifth floor of a walk up on the Upper East Side with the kindest neighbors. On one occasion, I lost my keys and everyone was kind to offer their place, bottled water and to help carry my luggage. On another occasion, the Kris Kringle neighbor across the hall gave me a homemade VHS copy of the movie Juno. But there’s one neighbor on the first floor who I’ve always found intriguing with his freedom of expression.
