SMOKING BAN AT SAN DIEGO BARS HAS PATRONS FUMING

Laws: Vice cops are met with abuse while writing citations. City is known
for toughest enforcement in state.

SAN DIEGO - The pimps, the hookers, the johns, the gamblers, the
ticketscalpers are all pretty mellow compared to a new category of criminal
here: the barroom smoker.

Just ask the San Diego Police Department's vice squad. No other group of
lawbreakers gives them as much guff as smokers who are busted by undercover
cops and slapped with a ticket that can cost as much as $273.

"Smokers can get mean," said Det. Kelly Johnson.

Despite the unconcealed indignation of smokers, the vice squad here remains
steadfast, giving San Diego the most aggressive enforcement of the yearold
law banning barroom smoking in any big city in California.

"San Diego is doing an excellent job," said Diane Kaiser, director of the
California Smokefree Bar Program, an offshoot of the American Lung Assn.
"We wish other cities would use the San Diego model, and we plan to bring
it to their attention." A few suburban and mediumsized citiesnotably
Sacramentohave run education campaigns and followed up with citations for
scofflaws.

But in many cities the law has been virtually ignored or paid only lip
service.

In Los Angeles, the Police Department passed the buck to the Fire
Department, which only now is getting its complaint hotline and enforcement
strategy in place. In San Francisco, uniformed police and health inspectors
began enforcement two weeks ago after media coverage portrayed the law as a
local joke.

But in San Diego, where communityoriented policing is considered a
religion, the vice squad has been prowling bars for months in response to
complaints by patrons and employees that voluntary compliance is not
working. The use of undercover rather than uniformed officers is also
distinctly San Diegan.

"The reality has got to settle in among the public," said vice Det.

James Jarrett. "The law is here to stay and so are we. As long as there is
a law, we'll enforce it." For 1998, 134 citations were written for bar
smoking, a small number, perhaps, for a city of 1.2 million people, but
large enough, police hope, to send a message.

"What we want to do is create paranoia," said Sgt. Sam Campbell. "We want
smokers to be paranoid about being cited for breaking the law.

If paranoia gets compliance, I can live with it." On any given night, a
barroom smoker in San Diego may light up and then be startled when that
friendly fellow or gal at the next bar stool discreetly flashes a badge and
politely, quietly, invites the smoker outside, where he or she receives a
citation.

Some argue. Some become instant civil libertarians. Some become insulting.
Many vow to carry the fight to the U.S. Supreme Court.

Their bar stool comrades act as ad hoc counsel. In one bar, patrons passed
the hat to gather a defense fund.

A brawny fellow cited at Cheers, a festive bar in a bluecollar
neighborhood, provided a lengthy analysis linking the outrage being visited
upon him to what he felt was the misuse of tax money in the presidential
impeachment trial.

"This is ridiculous," said Scott Mastrocinque, 32. "I will never spend any
money in this bar again. Government has gone crazy, from Washington to San
Diego." At TubaMan's, San Diego's decidedly funky "original sports bar,"
angry analogies were made to World War II dictators.

"This is asinine, sickening, ridiculous, an infraction of my civil
liberties," said a cited smoker, a schoolteacher. "It's all over for
freedom. Il Duce is back in power." One fellowalthough not smoking
himselfstomped out angrily. He stopped long enough on his march to another
bar to throw a fourletter epithet over his shoulder at the four vice squad
officers outside, adding: "Smoke Nazis, uber alles." Later, the same fellow
settled in eight blocks away at Scolari's Office, where he allegedly warned
patrons there was a plainclothes cop in the house. A vice sergeant wrote
him a citation: Blowing the cover of an undercover cop is a misdemeanor.

"I'm outraged," said Richard Strassman, 44, who vowed to fight the
misdemeanor case vigorously. "You can't smoke in a bar, you can't talk to
your friends. Is this still America? Not in San Diego." Umbrage is not
genderspecific.

Three "soccer moms" were sitting at a shopping center bar called the Navajo
Inn when vice squad members began pulling smoking patrons aside soon after
arriving from Scolari's. The three women, none smoking but all enjoying a
martini after their badminton class, abruptly interrupted their discussion
of kids and school and grades.

One of the three whirled around and told a cop, "You should get a job with
some dignity! You should be out doing some real police work." The vice cops
have heard it all, and mostly it just rolls off their backs. But on this
occasion, Det. Jana Beard, having finished writing citations, decided to
engage in a bit of lowkey, womantowoman, communitypolicingstyle dialogue.

"We have 2,000 cops in this city ready to respond to your 911 call when you
need us," she said. "But if we enforce a law you don't like, you begin
insulting us and saying hurtful things. Why?" The failure to communicate
was near total.

"You should do something with dignity, not this," said the woman. "I pay
your salary, you know." It's not a new line. But no one has thrown a punch
yet, although there is a tendency among both the smokers and their
nonsmoking pals to engage the cops in spittleflying debates.

"Smoking enforcement is not popular with the detectives," Jarrett said. "We
get into more confrontations than with anything else we do." Because of the
possibility that a smoking bust could get out of hand, the vice cops always
work in teams.

The base fine is $100 for a first offense, $200 for a second offense, and
$500 for a third offense. Once court costs are thrown in, at the judge's
discretion, a first offense can climb to $273.

Debra Kelley, an official with the San Diego chapter of the American Lung
Assn., believes she knows why smokers are so defiant.

"There's been a really orchestrated effort to bring out the belligerence
and anger among smokers by the tobacco industry and groups it funds, like
the National Smokers Alliance," said Kelley.

"Their hope is to defeat the law any way they can." But Tom Humber,
president of the Arlington, Va.based National Smokers Alliance, says Kelley
is overestimating his group's power and underestimating the political
rebellion triggered by the California law, the only state law of its kind
in the nation.

"People are tired of government telling them how to live their lives,"
Humber said. "Am I pleased people are giving out back talk when they are
busted? You're [damn] right I am." While not overjoyed at the San Diego
vice squad, the local Food & Beverage Assn., a trade group for bars and
restaurants, has opted not to protestpreferring to work for an amendment to
the law to permit smoking if bars install special ventilation systems.

San Diego bar owners claim that the vice squad is costing them business
because smokers are staying awayalthough that claim is yet to be borne out
by figures on gross receipts.

Outofstate tourists may be surprised that smoking is forbidden at
California bars but there is no indication that the San Diego enforcement
strategy is scaring them away. On the other hand, employees where bar
owners have cracked down on smoking have offered testimonials about the
delight of a smokefree workplace.

Paul Crawford, owner of an Englishflavored bar called Shakespeare Pub,
jokes that the only people smoking at his bar are English tourists who
think the No Smoking signs are some sort of American joke. He sets them
straight.

In May, Police Chief Jerry Sanders, responding to encouragement from the
City Council, had a memo read to all officers at roll call announcing that
the vice squad would be enforcing the ban and that uniformed officers could
take complaints or, if they spotted a bar smoker during their regular
rounds, write a citation.

Sanders' memo to his troops had a tone of let'sbecarefuloutthere: "Persons
in favor of and against the ban feel strongly about the prohibition." To be
sure, the smoking law is not a high priority among the vice squad in terms
of time or manpower. But when there is time, and when the complaint
referrals from the health department reach critical mass, the vice squad
takes action.

Bad News Travels Fast When the squad is on smoking patrol, however, there
is a law of diminishing return.

After a few bars are hit, word appears to spread quickly to nearby
establishments: "Yipes, the cops are loose!" Police suspect that a "phone
tree" early warning system exists among bartenders.

It is not uncommon for vice squad officers to enter a bar and find it so
smoky it looks like a foggy morning in San Franciscoyet not a single person
is smoking. At that point, the vice squad knows it's time to quit for the
night or switch to a neighborhood on the other side of town.

San Diego County remains a targetrich environment for smoking citations.
The Department of Health and Human Services received 1,561 complaints about
bar smoking last year, alleging smoking scofflawism at threequarters of the
county's 469 standalone bars.

About half the complaints are within the city limits. The others are in
smaller cities or the unincorporated areas where enforcement is up to
suburban police and the Sheriff's Department. The latter began its
enforcement effort with uniformed police this weekend.

"We've had a grace period for a long time. Now it's time for enforcement,"
said Sheriff's Lt. Ron VanRaaphorst.

When the health department receives a complaint, the bar owner is sent a
letter asking for compliance. Health inspectors then make an unannounced
visit. If they don't see any smoking, the case is closed. If they see
smoking, they refer the case to police.

Some bars play it straight. At Your Place, vice officers found smokeless
air, "No Smoking" signs posted all around, and even a framed copy of a
warning letter from the health department.

Other places send mixed messages. "No Smoking" signs are plastered on the
walls, but ashtrays are on the tables and cigarettes are for sale.
Sometimes swastikas have been stamped over the "No Smoking" signs.

At Cheers, a sign warning of the maximum $273 fine is posted at the door,
but inside is a fightback sign from the National Smokers Alliance: "My
Customers Are My Business. Repeal the Smoking Law." Cigarettes are for sale
behind the bar.

Not all busted smokers see red. There are also expressions of contrition
and tales of woe.

"I'm 67 and I can't stop smoking," said one man as he accepted his citation
outside Cheers. "These guys are only doing their job." But Tom McIsaac, 62,
who was cited in October at Scolari's Office and is paying a $250 fine on
the installment plan, has a different take: "This is taxation without
representation. That's why we got rid of King George, isn't it?"