Smoke This

It's time for Philadelphians to defend our taprooms.

by Brian Hickey

Last week, a column appearing in this very spot espoused the merits of the proposed ban on smoking in city bars and restaurants. It was pretty cute, too, how local bartender Peter Woodall thinks that those opposed to the ban sound a lot like "members of the French Revolution, ready to wage heroic battle "

"Yo, what about my lungs?" wrote poor Pete, noting that the ban seemed like a done deal. Well, sorry Pete, I couldn't care less about your lungs. If you're so worried about your health, go mix ginseng tea at a day spa.

It's really quite simple, what's going on here. In the surprisingly prescient words of City Councilman Ricky Mariano, the "smoke Nazis" decided they know what's best for everybody else and are trying to force-feed it to a couple million folks. (Dear Anti-Defamation League, Mail your inevitable letter of protest to 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila., Pa., 19106. But remember, I'm not an elected official, so I won't be bullied into an empty apology.)

Now, Pete's not the only person who's mounted a high horse lately. After we ran a story about the potential ban in the Food section a few weeks back, letters poured in, mostly pro-ban. Some were even spell-checked. For the time being, let's stick to those supporters, aka the Michael-Nutter-for-mayor campaign-killers. (Think I'm kidding, Nutter? Get that ban passed and you can damn well be sure that we French revolutionaries with press passes, and there are a lot of us, will defiantly light up at home as we write endorsement columns in '07.) Their predictable, cause-of-the-month spiel goes a little something like this: They argue that businesses won't be affected, trot out secondhand-smoking statistics and whine like jaundice-hued PETA freaks trying to save sewer rats. Here's the rub with that stance:

Businesses will be affected. You'll have to ban mass transit as well, since huffing SEPTA fumes is just as, if not more, dangerous. Sewer rats deserve to die slow, painful deaths.

That said, allow me to make a counterproposal: Exile everybody who wants to ban smoking to the place they belong, a little place called New Hope. As best I can tell, an artsy little enclave would serve their ilk well. Desperate times call for blanket statements, people, so here are mine: It's already clear that they haven't the first clue about what Philadelphia really is. Make that what Philadelphia isn't: namely, New York City or California. Up there by the river, they can sip tofu shakes and discuss yoga class to their hearts' content. Meanwhile, those of us living in the real world — where a corner taproom is a place to unwind with booze and tobacco, where people who don't want smoke blown in their face avoid smoke-filled bars — will no longer have to sit by silently when they decide Tori Amos is acceptable jukebox fare.

When you strip all the rhetoric away from this thing, the debate is really about whether the city wants taprooms to survive. Take a charming, 48-seat bar like Krupa's in Fairmount. A shot-and-beer joint, you ban smoking and it goes under, pure and simple, regardless of how loyal the regulars are. Like at countless tappies across town, patrons go there to bask in the smoky company of people who think fake coughing is a cardinal sin punishable by ass-whoopin'. (So knock it off, you ingratiating, passive-aggressive morons who don't have the guts to say a word.) This distinction is missed on people like Nutter since, well, they've probably never set foot in a true taproom. But considering Nutter seems like a nice enough guy outside of this issue, maybe it's only right to talk compromise.

Letting the bars decide for themselves? A couple blocks away from Krupa's, the owners of the smoke-free Brigid's are doing just fine. A referendum? It's never a bad idea to let the people decide. Here, however, is the modest proposal that'll clean this whole mess up:

Ban smoking in restau-bars so nonsmoking drinkers have a place to chill. And keep your manicured hands off the taprooms, Nutter. Or else.

Brian Hickey is City Paper's managing edtior. If you would like to respond to this Slant or have one of your own (850 words), contact Duane Swierczynski, editor in chief, 123 Chestnut St., third floor, Phila., Pa., 19106 or e-mail Duane Swierczynski.