1 BR, Fully Loaded

If you'd rather not buy it from Shvo, perhaps you would consider Miraval Living, a new offering on the Upper East Side. The developers here have allied with a New Agey spa called Miraval near Tucson, and they're attempting to import the resort's regimen of tranquillity and fitness to Manhattan. "What if you simply let go?" asks the project's Web site.

First, simply let go of a couple mil. Then, you have an apartment plus access to a workout area with a Pilates studio, outdoor yoga garden and 20-foot climbing wall as well as an arts studio and a spa where, at additional cost, you can get a "blue mint foot repair" or "desert rain scrub" or something called "Ayurvedic herbal body treatment." A team of experts on nutrition and exercise is available, too.

As an added bonus, life at Miraval is guilt-free because the complex has been built to eco-fabulous specifications. The floors are made of "sustainable American black walnut." There's a special filtration system in the pool, to eliminate chlorine vapors, and the paint and carpets are free of unhealthy stuff that you didn't even know existed. The "platform gardens" have been designed to absorb rain, "significantly reducing sediment runoff," as it says in promotional material.

A spokeswoman for Miraval declined to be interviewed.

Where is this going? "Smart condos," says Manhattan real estate broker Christopher Mathieson, with computerized control panels that allow owners to tinker with their apartment from anywhere in the world.

"So you can say, 'Turn on my air conditioning, I want my shades up three-quarters of the way, I want the football game on mute and my favorite CD playing when I get home."

Like nearly every real estate pro in this city, Mathieson sounds optimistic about the future. To him, the amenities race isn't a sign of flop sweat, but a natural top-that progression brought out by a competitive market.

Roubini, the economics professor, thinks any forecast that doesn't include the word "bubble" is pure fantasy. To him, amenities and the array of deals now being cut around the country -- to cover closing costs, for instance -- are just incentives, and ones that generate better publicity than, say, cutting prices.

"Most of these deals are worth about 5 to 8 percent of the value of the property," Roubini says. If your property falls 10 percent for three years in a row, as the professor predicts will happen in New York City, that's a pretty lousy deal.

Of course 5 percent off is a whopping discount compared with what the residents of 255 Hudson are getting. Under the Manhattan Classic Car Club's elaborate cash-for-drive-time system, 255ers can burn through their highly limited membership in under a week.