Booze in the Hood

The Chronicle’s C.W. Nevius seems to embody the love-hate relationship we San Franciscians have with our fair city. Today he touched my heart (yet again) with his diatribe on the abundance of liquor stores in the tenderloin and the spineless “Act” that is meant to calm our riled hearts for the moment. Have a peek:
People sometimes complain that there is a liquor store on every block in San Francisco.
That’s just ridiculous.
There are many more than that - at least in some parts of town.
“San Francisco has the highest concentration of liquor stores in the state,” said Supervisor Gerardo Sandoval. “The state guidelines are for 1 liquor store for every 1,250 people, and we’re nearly 50 percent over that.”
And, you will not be surprised to hear, a huge concentration of the city’s 867 liquor stores is in the Tenderloin, which also happens to be ground zero for the worst alcohol-related problems in the community.
Are you starting to see a trend? Too many liquor stores in a neighborhood where chronic alcohol abuse is a long-standing problem? Isn’t there something that can be done?
The answer is yes and no. At today’s Board of Supervisor’s meeting, Sandoval will introduce what he is calling the “Alcohol Reduction and Safer Neighborhoods Act.” The ordinance would prohibit new liquor stores from opening within 500 feet of established liquor stores or schools, libraries or recreation areas.
Sound good?
Sure. And that’s the problem.
It may sound like a nice idea, but as everyone - even Sandoval - admits, it isn’t going to have much effect on the status quo.
First, it doesn’t affect the established stores, although grocery stores will be required to limit the display of fortified wines and malt liquors. What’s more, if owners decided to sell their businesses, they could pass the liquor licenses over to the new owners.
The only restriction would be if someone wanted to open a new liquor store within 500 feet of another one. As if there’s any room, given how many are already in place.
“This is not a solution for alcoholism,” Sandoval said. “We have limited tools. But I can’t sit idly by and watch this.”
So let’s give him full marks for raising the issue and publicizing the overproliferation of liquor stores, but let’s recognize what this is - a symbolic gesture.
Ed Kikumoto is executive director of the Alcohol Policy Network, a nonprofit group that works on legislation that attempts to cut down on liquor stores that sell cheap booze in poverty-stricken areas.
“What I would hope,” Kikumoto said, “is that this is one step in many and that someone will step up and take the next step.”
This isn’t just a “quality of life” issue. When I visited the emergency room at San Francisco General Hospital in December, a staffer there told me that as many as 70 percent of those admitted on a typical night were “chronic inebriants” who were making repeat visits to the ER. That group, which often uses city ambulances to get to the hospital, costs the city millions of dollars a year. The idea that the largest concentration of liquor stores is in the exact area where these troubled people live doesn’t make any kind of sense.
Unfortunately, the obvious and simple solutions are problematic. An alcohol impact zone, where cheap liquor is legislated out of poor neighborhoods, would have to be approved by the state. There was talk of restricting the sale of fortified wines and malt liquors in Mayor Gavin Newsom’s State of the City address this year, but it turns out that he meant “voluntary” restrictions.
“Voluntary never works,” said Michela Alioto-Pier, a co-sponsor of Sandoval’s ordinance. “It’s like, we’ll do it, but only if everyone wants to. As a city, we have to find a way to move forward.”
Mark this down to another of those moments when San Francisco’s free wheeling image of itself runs smack into reality. While “the city that knows how” fiddles around with voluntary restrictions and legislation that leave the cluster of liquor stores untouched, other cities in the area have taken action. Even San Jose is ahead of San Francisco, for God’s sake.
San Jose’s plan also singles out new ownership of liquor stores but adds a twist. New liquor licenses are issued for 10 years at a time. When the license expires, the store is subject to a review, giving city officials a chance to weed out the bad businesses.
“They’re definitely pushing the envelope,” Kikumoto said.
But for a more successful approach, he suggests San Francisco look to Oakland. There, liquor licenses require a fee of $1,500 a year. That money is then used to fund a task force in the city attorney’s office, which scrupulously examines how the business is being run.
The idea is that, by paying their fee and acquiring the license, businesses agree to a strict code of operation. Stores that sell to minors, for example, are not only caught, they are often shut down.
“Over 10 years,” Kikumoto said, “Oakland has gone from 475 liquor stores to about 350. Compare that to San Francisco, where there is no fee and no enforcement.”
If you guessed that such a hefty fee for liquor store owners wouldn’t be popular in San Francisco, congratulations.
“We are already taxed and fee’d more than any other business,” said Jimmy Shamiel, vice president of the Arab American Grocers. “And if you have noticed, crime hasn’t gone down in Oakland. So maybe we need to address the issues rather than scapegoat small businessmen.”
Addressing the issues sounds great. But does anyone disagree that there are too many liquor stores on the streets, especially in areas like the Tenderloin? While other cities come up with creative approaches, San Francisco officials duck another tough issue.
It’s an old story, Kikumoto says.
“It’s so amorphous,” he said. “No one can get their hands around it. Public officials look at it, but in the end all they want to do is punt.”
C.W. Nevius’ column appears Tuesday, Thursday, and Sunday. E-mail him at cwnevius@sfchronicle.com.
