June 28, 2025

Things have a way of going full circle, I’ve noticed time and time again over the years.  And sometimes those circles contain other seemingly non-related circles circling around at the same time.

I’ll try to explain this possibly-absurd circular thinking with examples starting from as recently as two nights ago…

I’ve lived on the Upper West Side of Manhattan since 1993.  The West Park Presbyterian Church has been an impressive structure only one block away and for a majority of those years I’ve longed to venture through their closed doors to inspect what I imagined was an also beautifully-constructed interior.  For whatever reasons, I’ve only encountered the homeless sleeping on the front steps, which to me is the antithesis of what a welcoming (and tax-exempt) church should represent; Jesus, I imagine, would have demanded those doors be open to accommodate the unfortunate people around us.

In any case, in all these years there were only two opportunities (one fairly recently - thanks, Alan B!) I’ve had to walk inside myself and neither offered me enough time for more than a brief glimpse.

The West Park Presbyterian Church was designated a New York City individual landmark in 2010.  But decades of deferred maintenance (probably due to the rather odd fact that there are only about 12 members in the congregation) has led the church members themselves to seek to remove the landmark status so they could sell to a developer (at a reported windfall of $33 million, I just discovered) who would then tear the building down, to be replaced with a new 19-story residential tower.

But then - cue the Landmarks Commission!  And local community groups, the Manhattan Community Board and Council Member Gale Brewer.  And the Local Celebrities!  Suddenly these last two years have produced a slew of benefit shows starring the likes of Mark Ruffalo, Matt Damon, Lawrence Fishburne and Scarlett Johansson - major stars who live within a few blocks.  An amazing surge of interest and activity has reanimated this long-neglected major corner of the Upper West Side.

Still, though - no luck on my quest for a proper view inside.

But then this past Thursday Night I was able to secure a ticket to a benefit presentation of “After Hours”, a movie I’ve loved since it first came out in 1985.  (I was living in Boston at the time and though I’d already visited a few times, NYC still seemed so huge and crazy to me, a fact so vividly encapsulated in this great film!)  There was going to be a Q&A following the presentation, hosted by the actor Fisher Stevens and the film’s star Griffin Dunne.

And so, two nights ago, I was FINALLY able to see for myself the interior of this amazing architectural gem!

(Watching the movie again, I couldn’t help but notice the similarities in tone with my little short film “Lori and the Landlord’s Grill” - available to be seen here on michaelaba.com - which was written and filmed years later.  Who knows, maybe I was slightly influenced in some sub-conscious way, but no, my effort falls well short of outright plagiarism, I feel.  After all, I wasn’t the director - and I’d written what was basically a true story…)

(In any case…)

The highlight was definitely hearing the two actors converse amongst themselves after the movie ended before taking questions from us.  Griffin Dunne’s off-handed comments about Teri Garr, Linda Fiorentino, John Heard and Catherine O’Hara were incredibly interesting.  (Did you know that they kept auditioning people to play what they imagined would be two Cheech and Chong-like burglars until someone offered what seemed at first to be the rather unlikely proposition they inquire if perhaps Cheech and Chong themselves might be available - which of course they were!)  And the questions from the knowledgable crowd were astute as well.

In fact I even got my own question in!  I asked Griffin if, in such an obviously well-scripted movie, an ad-lib from him he was particularly proud of made the final cut.  He seemed happy and excited at the opportunity to confirm (and perform!) that yes, indeed - several of these moments we’ve grown to love through the years were his inspiration.

What a great night!  A nice closure to years of loving “After Hours” and repeated failures to get to know the inside of that church!

But the circle-within-the-circle-within-the-circle of all this leads to one more story.  Because my success at asking an interesting question in a public setting helped atone for an incredible failure of mine DECADES before…

It was my last year at the University of Vermont, so I’ll put the date somewhere around 1982 - three years before “After Hours” was made and eleven years before I’d be moving to NYC myself.  Gerald Ford was giving the first of what was to be three consecutive afternoons of speeches to what was considered to be the “elite” students, who would be seated at the front with faculty and classmates filling out the remainder of the crowded auditorium.  I was part of the “economics honors” group.  We were tasked with asking questions at the end of his speech that would focus entirely on economic issues.

Gerald Ford stood behind a podium on a stage only a few feet away.  And when he finished his speech, he graciously asked for questions from the students.

At first there was nothing.  I looked around, amazed that these college friends of mine suddenly seemed to lack courage of any kind.

“Oh, don’t be nervous,” ex-President Ford urged after a few seconds of awkward silence.  “Please - ask me anything!”

I was appalled at the lack of movement from the people around me!  The last thing I wanted was to have our economics honors group embarrassed in any way!

So I impulsively raised my hand and stood up.  Someone around here had to man up!

The ex-President looked directly at me.  “Yes?” he asked.

And then I quickly realized an immediate problem; I had no question in mind!!

And there - now! - is a former President of the United States, staring quizzingly at me.  The moment was, in all honesty, a bit intimidating.

I quickly figured I’d hammer out some kind of question based around what was already regarded as then-President Reagan’s failed supply-side economics theory.

But my voice faltered.

I recovered a bit but couldn’t really get my random thoughts in any kind of logical order.  For a second there I was unable to remember the original thread to what the beginning of my imaginary question was.

The President’s brow furrowed in a confused manner…

I was dimly aware of the suppressed laughter coming from good friends seated immediately behind me…

The words I was now trying to put together lacked a meaningful point, that much I knew. We were the only two people now standing in this entire auditorium, looking directly at each other, and neither of us understood what I was asking.

Finally, I added what was basically a verbal question mark to whatever stream of consciousness had been emanating from my mouth.  The President seemed to get the point and nodded as a way of letting me off the hook.  I sat down to listen as Gerald Ford gave an answer to a question that was never really there.

Babbling…  In retrospect now, I’m no longer sure how long the whole ordeal lasted, but I believe I was babbling…

Oh, I wish I could remember her name, but my good friend (I want to say Ellissa?) - who later moved from Vermont to Boston around the same time I did - was in near-hysterics.  I was drenched in the embarrassed sweat of complete failure.  And then everyone around me had no problem raising their hands to ask whatever question came to mind; I noted that hardly any of them had anything to do with economics whatsoever.

Well, finally, two nights ago and over forty years later, I was able to get an interesting question through in another pubic setting.  Of course, this time I had the basics of my query ready before reaching for the microphone; I’m now old enough to know that sometimes a man needs to learn lessons from past mistakes.

So I’ve now seen the West Park Presbyterian Church in its current glory, and “After Hours” suddenly has new meaning to me, and who knows - I may not be shy about public speaking anymore.  (Or maybe I’ll be satisfied with this one success and decline to risk tempting fate again.)

In the movie, Griffin Dunne’s character performs an almost 24-hour full circle; he ends up right at the door he walked through at the end of the prior working day.  So who knows - maybe my full circle-within-these-circles will have me moving back to Vermont at some point in time.  But then again, maybe this beautiful Landmark Building one block away will soon host another benefit where maybe I could read a short story or play an original song or two.

Wouldn’t that be the perfect next step?  Who knows - possibilities, as always, keep popping up before our very eyes.

There’s no end to a circle, after all.