Mail Order Joe

Anyway, The Bird decided to mosey on down to two of its fave spots this past First Friday to see how these formerly smoky saloons were handling the new legislation. First stop was Bikini Lounge, where future emphysema patients like DJ Shane Kennedy were fuming on the sidewalk, while the coolios and hipsters who always make the First Friday scene were jammed inside, breathing smoke-free air.

"Smoking is all part of the experience of hanging out at some dive bar," explained butt-head Kennedy. "Without it, it's like sex without an orgasm."

Makes this magpie recall that joke from Woody Allen’s Manhattan:

Party guest: "I finally had an orgasm, and my doctor said it was the wrong kind."

Isaac Davis: "You had the wrong kind? I've never had the wrong kind, ever. My worst one was right on the money."

Protectors of public safety might as well ban other sinful activities such as unprotected fornication, overeating, drinking and driving, tweaking, or snorting cocaine. Hey, wait a sec: The last three are already illegal. Heh, you get the idea. How're we gonna have any fun if all the good stuff is verboten?

Near Kennedy, Ryan Piscitelli, a scraggly 24-year-old musician and illustrator, was equally p.o.'d as he lit up outside with his hottie girlfriend, Sam Cordova.

"This is killing me. It wounds my very soul that I'm sitting inside there and I can't have a cigarette with my beer," peeped Piscitelli. "If you're really concerned about your health, what're you doing in a bar in the first place?"

Piscitelli and Cordova also kvetched about the voting apathy of their fellow smokers.

"Young people and smokers especially should've gotten out and voted. When I went to vote, I was surrounded by geriatrics. I had to shower for 45 minutes to scrub the smell of Ben-Gay off," quipped Piscitelli.

Over at the News Room, a hole right out of some short story by boozer scribe Charles Bukowski, the drag of taking a drag al fresco wasn't the only thing under discussion, as owner Pete Palandri revealed he'll be closing the downtown mainstay this Saturday after 26 years, selling his joint to developers. Scuttlebutt is this scurvy dive, with its pool tables, stark interior, and pinball machines circa 1980, will end up being torn down for condos or some ASU building. Sigh . . . is nothing sacred?!

Palandri was equally upset about the smoking ban and claimed it doesn't bode well for any bar.

"It's a pain in the ass," squawked Palandri. "Applying for patio permits and everything. The rules and regulations won't work for every joint. A patio wouldn't work for me because I don't have the room. Contractors are just gonna get richer off of this."

Palandri also took time to berate some of the smokers outside, saying "I guess you lazy fucks didn't get out and vote."

Palandri's point is well-taken. Plus, it just ain't the same driving home from a night out without that magical reek of stale ciggies all in your feathers. Suddenly, Phoenix and all of AZ is a lot less Kool.

EXTREMIST PICNIC

To paraphrase Mick Jagger, this migrant-lovin' macaw went down to the demonstration May 1, to get its fair share of abuse.

The demo in question was actually the counter-demonstration to the big pro-immigrant march that drew about 15,000 people to Wesley Bolin Plaza last week. As much as this heron's heart was with those shouting "Si se puede," or "Yes, we can," in Spanish, this avian loves agitatin' agitators more. So it flew straight to the extremist picnic for United for a Sovereign America, a local anti-immigrant rights org.