At a meeting of state alcohol watchdogs last month, Coray wondered out loud if Utah has silly liquor laws.
Anyone who's paid for a temporary private club membership or tried to order a drink in a restaurant without a plate of nachos - Coray hasn't - knows the answer.
But after sending her question out into the ether, Coray was gnawing on one example: the so-called "Zion Curtain" of glass that surrounds bars in restaurants like T.G.I. Friday's and the Cheescake Factory. So she tried to dissect the mystifying see-through barrier that lawmakers came up with to shield impressionable children and easily offended adults from liquor labels.
"Having a clear glass curtain doesn't seem to be solving the purpose," she said at the Alcoholic Beverage Control Commission. She suggested changing the "idea" of a glass curtain while incorporating parts of other state laws that prohibit serving to minors and prominent displays of alcohol, "so it fulfills our dual responsibility of providing alcohol and not making anyone who is uncomfortable with alcohol, uncomfortable, which is also impossible to do, but that's our charge."
The Tribune reported her proposal to protect the "uncomfortable"; the Deseret Morning News focused almost entirely on plans for a public hearing of similarly "silly" laws. After being flooded with calls for Coray's head, the Governor's Office jumped to defend her and demanded a retraction from The Tribune.
"The governor would like to see progression rather than regression. He's always talked about ridding Utah of those sillier, quirky laws that really don't have any public benefit," said Lisa Roskelley, Huntsman's spokeswoman. "It is unfortunate if her intent is one thing and she's being accused of something entirely different."
Meantime, she has been flayed in letters to the editor and personal e-mails.
In her own letter to the editor, Coray said that she was "misunderstood." On KSL-TV, she said it was a joke.
"This has been an interesting week," she said. "But I've learned a lot."
The problem is: She said it. Clumsily, perhaps. Certainly unclearly, and not very amusingly. But it's there on videotape. It sounds like Bobbie Coray wants to protect non-drinkers from those who imbibe.
I'm going to give Coray the benefit of the doubt. She's progressive, a one-time Democratic candidate for lieutenant governor and Congress, and a former Cache County economic development leader. She knows the image problem this state's often inexplicable liquor laws pose. I don't think she'd be asking for a public hearing to review "silly" laws if she weren't going to try to moderate some of the weirdest quirks.
But she's also a non-drinker. And that creates a fundamental disconnect between teetotaling alcohol gatekeepers like Coray and the general public.
For years there were no drinkers on the five-member ABC Commission. Gov. Mike Leavitt appointed Ogden realtor Vickie McCall as the first, token social drinker in 1992. And one was enough for more than a decade.
This year, Gov. Huntsman added another. But he simultaneously cleaned house, letting three veteran commission members go, replacing them with unseasoned newcomers like Coray.
"We're a lot more harmless than you're led to believe," new Chairman Sam Granato said in October to a nervous liquor license applicant.
But I wonder. This new commission has been predictably eager to second-guess the much-legislated status quo. They've enthusiastically endorsed Attorney General Mark Shurtleff's crusade to protect the children by pulling 3.2 malt beverages out of grocery stores while leaving 3.2 beer on the shelves.
At the same time, this commission let Coray's suggested ban on alcohol in strip clubs wither away. They've proposed legislation to adjust quotas to meet demand for restaurant liquor licenses and streamline criminal background checks for servers. And that public hearing on silly laws will be scheduled in the next few months.
"I gather there's no silly Utah law, in spite of the fact that we often get blasted for it," Coray said last month. "Maybe we've just got a perception problem."
In the wake of her tongue-twisting and the resulting backlash, the new members might want to sit back and bite their lips for awhile. Otherwise, it looks like their perceptions are the problem.
walsh@sltrib.com


