Let's say Ron Carter's bored.

	David

Yes, you're right -- it is indeed a silly premise. Carter's been working about 26 hours a day (rumor is that Professor McGonagall gave him a Time Turner just like Hermione Granger's) for the past three years, first trying to buy and now trying to renovate the old Strand Theater in Zelienople.

As you could see in the June 16 PG North, Carter is organizing volunteers, overseeing structural work, running various cultural events and dealing with the stinking jackals of the media. Oh, yeah! He's also trying to milk $2 million out of a laundry list of government and private sources.

Going out on a limb, we'll say he's busy.

But work with us here, huh? Carter's a high-energy dude -- would "zealot" be too strong? -- and if he does, indeed, have a Time Turner (confused? go see the latest Harry Potter movie), we could see him giving it a couple more turns and taking on something else.

If he did, he wouldn't have to look far for a candidate. The perfect one was sitting there right next to the story on his efforts at the Strand.

That would be the Beverly Hills Hotel, now finally for sale after a quarter-century as an eyesore and regulatory battleground.

There are similarities in the main figures in this tale of two buildings. Both are historic in the middle-American sense of being close to 100 years old. Both experienced a heyday in the middle of the 20th century, the Strand as a movie house in Zelienople, the Beverly Hills as a nightclub and banquet center in Ross. Both are fondly remembered by graying generations of locals.

Both closed in the early '80s. Both sat vacant for years, slowly getting uglier and more decrepit, though both still whispered of past grandeur.

There was one key difference. The Strand was for sale, but no one wanted to buy it. The Beverly Hills was not for sale, though the township desperately wanted to acquire it and tear it down.

For most of that time, the odds for a rebirth would have seemed to be tilted in the Beverly Hills' favor. Owner Constance Costa Schaefer kept saying builders would soon start restoring it to its glory. At one point, in fact, her lawyer said the only holdup had been a problem getting a contractor, but that the work was under way.

That was in 1990. Clearly the scope of work was a smidge exaggerated.

Those restoration claims came in response to an effort by Ross to seize the property and tear down the building. That effort stalled when engineers determined the building was structurally sound; there was no compelling reason to raze it. And so it has stood, for 14 more years, with Schaefer claiming imminent restoration anytime Ross made noise about its unsightliness or potential hazards.

The Strand, meanwhile, just sat there for two decades, slowly succumbing to wind and rain and proliferating dust bunnies. The owner had put a $150,000 price on it, and there was scant interest.

But fate stepped in in May 2001, stepped in and stepped heavily on the scales, tipping them in the Strand's favor.

May 2001 is when Carter happened to drive by the Strand. Where others saw a dilapidated hulk, he saw a midsize live theater, filling the gap between small community theaters and Pittsburgh's Cultural District. Where others saw a money pit, he saw a worthy cultural investment.

It was not a vision many shared -- he was laughed at in this space a couple of times -- but three years later, he has scaffolding up and repairs being made, has hosted a long list of fund-raisers and is still moving ahead, even if it's one small step at a time. His passion has not dimmed, and his energy seems limitless.

As for the Beverly Hills? Schaefer is pushing 90 now and has relinquished the dream of bringing it back. She's offering to sell it to the township, and that apparently means the end of its run. The township has expressed only one interest: running a bulldozer through the walls.

The question, of course, is why? Why is that the only option? Why is no one even thinking about restoring it? Why didn't a Ron Carter drive by the Beverly Hills in May 2001?

The Beverly Hills Hotel has a prominent place in Ross history; it played host to countless memories, countless significant moments in people's lives. It's probably fair to say its place is more prominent than the Strand's place in Zelienople history -- surely banquets and wedding receptions trump the movies on the memory scale.

It also would fill a niche at least as well as the Strand does -- in a world of cookie-cutter franchise restaurants and hotels, isn't there room for a grand old place like the Bev? Wouldn't it be good for Ross' soul?

What's more, the building may well still be structurally sound -- one past story said it is of "concrete and steel beam construction" -- and even the weed-choked recent pictures can't hide the vestiges of what was. Like an aging beauty, it may need a face-lift, but the bones are good.

It's wonderful that the Strand Theater is being loved now. It's just too bad -- and a bit puzzling -- that there's no one around to love the Beverly Hills Hotel.