For legislation that simply reduces the hassle of ordering a martini in Utah, you would have thought from the rhetoric that Gov. Jon Huntsman and leaders of the Utah Legislature had cured cancer or invented fat-free ice cream.

"Every half-century or so, you have a bill like this," Huntsman said Monday, at a press conference announcing a compromise plan that would drag Utah's "quirky" alcohol laws a few steps closer to the 21st century.

The big news is that Utah finally (if the bill passes, which seems likely) will do away with private clubs. No longer must you explain to your out-of-town relatives that they have to pay a membership fee just to enter a bar, let alone order anything.

"You don't have to pay a club fee just to get lunch," Mark Livingston, a member of the Utah Hospitality Association board and co-owner of Bogey's in Clearfield, told me, adding that he expects his food sales to increase under the new law.

To ensure the under-21 types don't sneak in, the bars will be required to install electronic ID scanners. The restrictions on the scanners -- only those who look 35 or younger will have their IDs scanned, and the bars will keep the records for a week rather than the government -- reduce the stench of Big Brother, though they don't eliminate the smell entirely. (Livingston said the scanners won't be too big a burden to clubs; an inexpensive one can be bought for $800.)

The other big change is that restaurants with bars will be able to remove the Plexiglas partition that separates the bar counter from the area where the drinks are mixed. That partition -- the so-called "Zion Curtain" -- has become a symbol of Utah's strange liquor laws, and the members of the Utah Legislature know it.

"This bill tears down the walls," crowed Sen. John L. Valentine, R-Orem, the Senate's point man on alcohol issues. Valentine drew derision earlier in the session, over a proposal that restaurants erect 10-foot-high walls to block patrons' view of drink-mixing -- lest the youngsters be sullied by a glimpse of a pimento-stuffed olive.

But what the legislation does instead makes as much sense. New restaurants would be required to build in a separate room for drink prep. Existing restaurants would not have to retrofit, though a restaurant that did in the next two years could get $30,000 credit at the DABC.

In short, the "Zion Curtain" is getting its own room.

Why stop there? Why not install a cauldron, have the bartender wear a pointy hat with stars and moons on it, and paint the words "Potions: No Admittance" on the door?

This new "Zion Curtain" follows the same premise as the old one: Nothing cures kids of curiosity like hiding stuff from them. Ask any parent before Christmas how well that works.

Sean P. Means writes the Culture Vulture in daily blog form at blogs.sltrib.com/vulture.