People who live anywhere but New York City take outdoor space for granted. In L.A., the only other city I've lived in my adult life, even the shit-ass lowliest apartments often had balconies (and sometimes swimming pools). The last time I lived there, for the same price as my grungy New York apartment, we had a whole house with a yard, a hammock, a hot tub, and a resident pet bunny. We barbecued -- even in February.
One of the nicer aspects of the Upper West Side apartment I rented in 2004 turned out to be its fire escape.
