That would be his bar, the one Wheeler, now 52, opened at age 20 in the then dicey/funky neighborhood of Adams Morgan in Washington.

First lesson: Don't drink the "Golden Goose" - a Wheeler concoction mixing rum, vodka and cognac, and let's say no more about that.

Wheeler says he hasn't had a Golden Goose in decades and who is to doubt him - even though his latest proposed project, preserving the Boyd Theater, has been enough to drive a parade of developers to drink.

With the Boyd project, Wheeler and his company are once again in the news - this time as the savior and protector of the historical landmark, the now-shuttered 2,350-seat art deco mecca on Chestnut Street.

"You fall in love with a piece of real estate," Wheeler said. "I love art deco. To me, it's a great era, and it's coming back."

He envisions a $95 million project that includes a hotel and entertainment complex, incorporating a nearby lot that runs along 20th Street and backs up to Sansom Street. Live Nation Inc., a partner, would run the theater, and another company, Kimpton Hotel & Restaurant Group Inc., a San Francisco operator of boutique hotels, would lend its Monaco brand to the 250-room hotel.

"We're in the feasibility stage now," Wheeler said. "Then there's the public-funding component. And then in 90 to 120 days, we'll be able to buy the property."

Wheeler and his brother joined forces in 2003 with the northern New Jersey development firm ARC Properties Inc. to create the joint-venture ARCWheeler focusing on urban projects.

Last time Wheeler made headlines, his critics did not see him as a preserver or protector. Instead, they lambasted Wheeler for demolishing most of the old Rittenhouse Club on Rittenhouse Square, although the facade remains. They also protested the demolition of four modest structures on nearby 18th Street, including the home of old Rindelaub's Bakery, filing suits to stop the project.

The fight, which began in the 1990s, got nasty, and at one point, Wheeler's company turned around and sued the critics - a lawsuit that ultimately settled out of court as the critics fell silent.

Meanwhile, the project, Ten Rittenhouse Square, a $250 million mixed retail and residential 33-story tower is nearing completion.

Wheeler said he was able to turn his attention to Boyd partly to maintain some influence over what happens in the neighborhood.

"It's in our backyard," he said. "Sometimes the stars get aligned. We had a conversation two or three years ago about this, but we feel that it is a much better time now."

Wheeler said the struggle over Ten Rittenhouse made him more sensitive to the value of architectural history. "Sometimes it is more important to preserve an [historical] asset than it is to make money," he said.

"We probably have a much greater sensitivity toward preservation today than we did back then."

When Wheeler talks, he always uses the word "we" - but in his case, it is not the usual royal "we," but instead the way he talks about his brothers, especially his brother, William - his longtime business partner.

The Wheelers, who grew up on the Main Line, had a sad start in business. Their father died while they were still in college, leaving brothers Harold, William and Samuel $10,000 each.

They pooled their money and bought a bar. At 20, Harold was the senior partner, by dint of being the oldest.

"It was over-leveraged," Wheeler said. "I wouldn't do that again."

Besides juggling their school work, "we did everything. We cooked, we waited on tables. I learned the do's and don'ts of being in business.

"You have to focus. You can't be all things to everybody," he said.

The bar looked successful, he said, but by the time they sold it seven years later, they had not made any money, just enough to live on, and then only barely. What they did make, though, were contacts among their patrons.

One of them, he said, was a drugstore company owner looking for locations who offered to help set them up if they found a good location.

It was pure luck, Wheeler said, that the day before they contacted the owners of a parking lot in Washington - an excellent spot for a drugstore - the owners, which happened to be the family of the archbishop of New Orleans, decided to sell.

From there, the brothers specialized in strip shopping centers and retail properties in places such as City Avenue, Chestnut Hill and Roxborough.

But with the projects in Center City, and in the Inner Harbor in Baltimore, they have gone upscale. In Baltimore, Wheeler's company is working on a $55 million project to transform the Beaux Art-style former headquarters of the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad into a boutique hotel, with shops.

"When you do real estate, you have to balance your portfolio," Wheeler said.

Even though they never shared a bedroom as children, these days Wheeler and his brother William sit back to back in a shared office in Center City. Wheeler looks out toward the Boyd; William Wheeler's got a view of Ten Rittenhouse.

Do they ever argue?

All the time, Wheeler said.

"The last argument was about keeping his dog out of the pool," Wheeler said. "Bill's dog - he always visits with the dog. I like the dog, Eddie, but I don't want him in the pool. He sheds."