I walk past the boarded-up building occupying the south-east corner of 5th Ave and 13th St dozens of times a week, always paying close attention to the iterations of street art and advertisements adorning the north wall and the plywood blocking the front windows from view. The building was graced with some work by Judith Supine for a bit in 2007, and I was particularly fond of a piece that used the back pages of the Village Voice as background for erotic renderings of a recognizable resident of 13th St.

The space has languished, unoccupied and decaying, for as long as I've walked the block. In its last incarnation, the building was known as Cafeteria 61. Sometime in early April, 2006, Cafeteria 61 suddenly locked its doors; handwritten signs posted in the windows read 'Closed. Store for lease.' Cafeteria 61 had been abandoned in obvious haste; from the sidewalk, passersby could peer through the windows and see shelves brimming with merchandise - even the salad bar had been left fully stocked.

On the night of April 18th, 2006, firefighters responding to the abandoned deli arrived to find 'heavy fire conditions'. The blaze, which severely charred the entrance of the building but left the interior intact, resulted in minor injuries for two firefighters. Then, Sixth Battalion Chief Edward Bergamini suggested the fire was suspicious, and that the cause would be under investigation. It is widely believed by residents and business owners on 13th Street that the blaze was intentionally set by the retreating owners.

That the building would come to such an ignominious end betrays the heights to which it had soared, not as Cafeteria 61, but as the Lone Star Cafe, a raucous, Texas-style country music nightclub. The Lone Star opened in 1976 as a non-ironic, straightforward country and western joint in the middle of downtown. It became so popular, however, that it was soon booking such acts as John Lee Hooker, Sly Stone, Buddy Guy and Willie Nelson. Roy Orbison regularly played, and it was not unusual to bump into Springsteen and Van Zandt at the bar. A patron fondly recalls his experience at the Lone Star in the 80's:

The Thursday before Live Aid I was there with my friends from England who had never been to the USA before. Dinner at the Hard Rock and then down to the Lone Star. That night a blues guy called " Lonnie Mac" from Chicago was playing. We went upstairs and saw that the tables had reserved signs on them. First came Paul Simon to sit down with Penny Marshall. Then Mike Jagger comes in behind us with Keith Richard. My friend turned to go to the bar and banged into Bob Dylan. I told the guys no work tomorrow, we are staying here and at 3 in the morning Dylan and Jagger got up on stage to Jam. A night never to forget.

But what most remember about this building was not what happened inside, but what appeared on the roof one night in 1978: Iggy, the 40 foot iguana. Made of wire mesh and polyurethane foam, the iguana, an inanimate cartoonish figure of Jurassic Park proportions with an open, spiky-toothed mouth, spiny quills along its back and a great, curling tail, was a downtown icon until skyrocketing rents forced the club to close in 1989. Kinky Friedman, Texas icon and frequent performer at the Lone Star with his band the Shalom Retirement Village People, recalled Iggy being a propos of both the club and the times: 'People made love inside the iguana. Drug deals went down all around it.'

Without a doubt, the purgatory in which the building currently exists will come to an end. Likely, the building will be razed, almost certainly for luxury condos. Perhaps, just perhaps, we can hope for an homage. A 40 foot iguana on the roof deck of your luxury condo? I think I hear selling-point.