Monday, January 22, 2007

On November 7th, 2006, Ohioans voted to ban smoking in public places. Two months later, after the proverbial smoke has cleared, the disgruntled, defeated individuals opposed to the bill have angrily sauntered home for a consolatory cigarette, and the victors zealously enjoy the triumph, public smoking can still be found in restaurants, bars, and doorways all over the city; eyebrows are beginning to raise. Though the bill has been enacted since December 7th, the Ohio Health Department, which is responsible for enforcing the ban, will not do so until regulations have been decided upon. The board of health has until June to begin enforcement of the ban, though Health Department spokesman Jay Carey said that they anticipate enforcement to begin in early April.

Until then, Cincinnati will wait in limbo. The Hamilton County Health Commissioner has been quoted as saying that 90% of the county’s restaurants and bars were smoke-free upon inspection, yet a Cincinnati Enquirer article published last Friday named several establishments that still proudly permit smoking. Due to the legal complications impeding enforcement of the ban, the Health Department hands out what little punishment it can to those blatantly resisting the law: an informational letter politely outlining the demands of the law, a metaphorical slap on the wrist so mild it almost seems playful. Like the rent-a-cops that patrol our nation’s malls, the helpless ban nearly begs you to steal its pristine hat and engage in a game of keep-away. Restaurants that feel no need to post the required “no smoking” signs now flaunt signs that instead say “smoking permitted”.

A lack of uniform compliance to the new law will give the owners of many establishments reason to complain, and rightfully so; a state-wide smoking ban will not prevent smokers and non-smokers alike from frequenting restaurants and bars, but a poorly-enforced one will detrimentally impact businesses in full observance of the law. Though a surge in bar patrons across the river in Kentucky wouldn’t be too surprising, I doubt smokers would abandon their favorite bar in Mason, Ohio in favor of one 35 minutes away simply for the right to smoke inside. If, however, bars across the street allowed smoking, one could easily understand how smoke-free bars would lose business to their local, dissentious brethren.

This past Saturday I visited three bars and two restaurants around the city to see how many were following the new law, and to hear the general opinions of the employees and patrons. Only one of the five had posted a sign and effectively removed smoking; not only were the other four full of customers happily and proudly puffing their favorite tobacco, but the employees behind the bar in three of the establishments spoke with me while Bogarting Marlboros. One patron- who good naturedly said I could cite him as only “Jimmy the Greek”- represented the opinions of most of the individuals I spoke with: until inspectors start handing out tickets, he’s not going to stop smoking in his favorite bar unless “someone puts a gun to [his] head”. Expensive fines, however, will succeed in prohibiting Jimmy and his friends from smoking in public. Only one patron refused to entertain the thought of complying: “It’s my right to smoke, and these tickets sound more amusing than intimidating”, the patron said, as he tapped a cigarette in an ashtray in front of him.

Bruce Rose, of Northside’s newly smoke-free Blue Jay Restaurant, however, says that the majority of serious restaurants will not risk blatant disobedience to the ban, and that the restaurant he works in hasn’t lost a bit of business because of the smoking ban. A red “no smoking” sign is the first thing that greets costumers as they walk into the Blue Jay, and ashtrays and cigarettes are nowhere to be seen. Bruce isn’t thrilled about the change because he himself is a smoker, but he doesn’t particularly care whether or not other Cincinnati bars resist the ban. “Why would they?” he asked, well aware of the lack of enforcement.

Such is the tone amongst many in regards to the unprepared and sloppily executed ban. Regardless of whether or not one supports or disagrees with the law, we can all see how premature enactment has led to confusion and made it hard for all of us to take it seriously. Is Cincinnati really delusional enough a city to think that sense of duty alone will hold controversial change intact? Enacting the ban before enforcement is possible was a mistake, but at least it has given smokers downtown something to laugh about until the city cracks down on smoking later this year. And who knows? Even April may not bring the transformation we’ve all been expecting since last November. “Come on, honey,” Jimmy jovially laughed as he looked around the strident, raucous inhabitants of his local bar. “If a health inspector walked in here and started writing us tickets, do you honestly think we’d let him leave?”