BUSINESSMAN WARMS TO HIS WAR ON SMOKING BAN

Right there in the virtual darkness, where patrons perch like hens on
burgundy Naugahyde bar stools, is the telltale sign of social sin: Smoke is
rising above the tiny orange glow of cigarettes. Enter Mike
Doyle--ex-street cop, hometown politician, restaurateur and pack-a-day
man--who at 6-foot-7, 260 pounds and dressed in a loose, untucked sport
shirt looks somewhat like an unmade double bed. This is his place, his
livelihood, the Revere House in Tustin, built during the Eisenhower
administration, when all seemed right, prosperous and free in America. And
he's furious, even all these months later, that the state last Jan. 1
banned smoking in bars. ] So Doyle believes he's found a simple way
to follow the letter of the law while still letting his customers light up.
That gets a little tricky when you're also a recently reelected city
councilman who has been gently coached by the city manager and the city
attorney that "You are an elected official; you might want to consider not
allowing any smoking in your bar." Ultimately, Doyle's scheme might not
work, but that doesn't bother him, either. He wants the city to cite him so
he can fight the anti-smoking law all the way to the Supreme Court, if
that's what it takes. "I just feel like they're taking my rights away as a
business owner," grumped Doyle, the crusty antithesis ("Don't quote the bad
words") of a slickly packaged politician. "You either want prohibition or
you don't. You either stop people from smoking or you don't. We've already
tried prohibition and it didn't work. Instead of speak-easies, you'll have
smoke-easies." He says his restaurant has been the subject of six
complaints since the law went into effect.

City officials say 11. At any rate, this is vintage Doyle, who has earned a
reputation for his common-man sensibilities and a mouth sometimes like a
blunderbuss. "It is his nature," Tustin Mayor Thomas R. Saltarelli said.
"Mike is Mike, and he doesn't want to put pretenses on." Added Lou Bone,
whom Doyle vanquished in the recent council race: "He speaks his piece. . .
. He is a colorful character, you can't deny that." Large Fines Have Been
Rare Since the days of the Barbary Coast, California's saloons have been
hallowed halls of boisterous libation and acrid air. That all changed when
the state began outlawing tobacco smoke, first in the workplace, including
restaurants, and finally in taverns. Everywhere, owners of bars and
restaurant-bars railed that rights were being bludgeoned and customers were
vanishing.

But over the months, most have grudgingly complied with the law, which
carries a penalty of $100 for a first infraction, $200 for a second and
$500 for further violations. Depending on the situation, either the owner
or the patron can be nailed.

In Orange County, 1,266 complaints have been made so far this year against
113 of the nearly 3,000 establishments that serve alcoholic beverages.
"When we started in January, we were getting 50, 100 calls a week," said
Marilyn Pritchard, director of the Orange County health agency's Tobacco
Use Prevention Program. "Now we're down to two or three calls a day.
Sometimes we go days without a call." County officials are jubilant about
the overall compliance rate. But then there's Doyle. It's late afternoon at
the Revere House, where generally middle-aged, repeat patrons flock for
prime ribs and fish. The restaurant, erected in 1956, has a Colonial theme
and is named for patriot Paul Revere of "The British are coming!" fame. The
British, of course, have been adequately dispatched. What Doyle is hacked
off about is the smoke police, namely the state Legislature, which he
grouses passed the smoking ban after failing to consider some European
studies that conclude secondhand smoke is not a health hazard. Sliding into
a booth with a cigarette and a cocktail (vodka and cranberry juice), Doyle,
who has puffed for nearly 40 of his 56 years, commences to hold court on
one of his ranking grievances. The former LAPD officer, who was endorsed by
the Tustin police officers association in the recent campaign, wasn't
prepared three years ago when the state prohibited smoking in the dining
room. "Twenty-five percent of my business went south, and it never came
back," he recalled.

This last time, he was ready. What Happens When a Patron Lights Up As
required by law, he posted signs that smoking is prohibited. And he advised
his staff in writing (he provides a copy) that if somebody fires up a butt,
staffers should politely ask them to go suck fumes outside. If they
continue to smoke, the staff is directed to produce an ashtray. Except
Doyle doesn't call an ashtray an ashtray. "If a customer smokes here, we
provide a receptacle for the ashes," he said, snuffing out his menthol. "If
you use the term 'ashtray,' you're promoting smoking." And beside, he
hastened to add, if he didn't slip patrons receptacles, they might tap
their ashes on his carpet. Doyle insists he's fully complying with the law,
which states that bar employees shouldn't take physical action if a patron
insists on smoking. And so, as the afternoon grows late, cigarettes begin
to appear at the bar Doyle says is "like the Cheers of Tustin. . . . If
somebody has a fight with his wife and has to get out of Dodge for the day,
they come here." Former cigar smoker Fred Williams said nonsmokers "have a
right to not come in if they don't want to come in." It's this band of
stalwarts who give Doyle grass-roots support for the possible fight ahead.
"I told the city attorney, the city manager and the police chief I want a
ticket 'cause I want to take it all the way to the Supreme Court," Doyle
said. But they've counseled him otherwise " 'cause they like me a lot," he
said. He's been reported on by customers who aren't as accepting of tobacco
haze. "As far as the number of complaints we've received against Revere
House, it's 11," said Elizabeth Binsack, the city's community development
director. But without the complaining party willing to step forward as a
witness, "we really can't do much." And, as far as she's concerned, Doyle
is complying with the law even if he can't prevent customers from taking a
smoke.

So the likelihood of citing Doyle--giving him what he wants--appears dim.
The county isn't so sure Doyle is honoring the law, said Herm Perlmutter,
program supervisor for the health agency's anti-tobacco campaign. "By
providing ashtrays, it gives encouragement to his customers to break the
law," he said. But the county only advises cities and bar owners about the
law, so it's up to Tustin to decide what, if anything, to do. No matter.

Doyle said he's ready and waiting. "Let's see what shakes out," he said,
mashing another butt into oblivion.

Checked-by: Pat Dolan