Striking a blow for anyone who has ever been rudely treated by government officials, a state appellate court ruled Thursday that city council members must actually listen when their constituents make official appeals before them.
It all began with the Blue Zebra, a strip club in East Los Angeles.
The owner wanted dancers to keep gyrating past the 2 a.m. closing time. The city's zoning administrator gave his assent. Neighbors objected. And the matter wound up on appeal before the Los Angeles City Council.
When the Blue Zebra's attorney, Roger Jon Diamond, and other interested parties addressed the council, most members paid little attention, as shown on a videotape that Diamond made.
In a sharply worded, six-page decision published Thursday, the state's 2nd District Court of Appeal ruled that the behavior of council members violated the Blue Zebra's right to be heard and ordered the council to hold a new hearing.
"A picture is worth a thousand words," the three-judge panel concluded. "A fundamental principle of due process is 'He who decides must hear.' The inattentiveness of council members during the hearing prevented the council from satisfying that principle."
It was June 13, 2003, Hawaiian Shirt Day in the council chamber.
Members showed off their tropical finery. Others talked and schmoozed. Some wandered around the room.
But very few of the 13 council members appeared to be listening to Diamond or the other speakers, or even sitting at their desks.
Councilman Jack Weiss, pacing behind his chair, was engrossed in a cellphone conversation. Council members Cindy Miscikowski and Bernard C. Parks leaned close in conversation. And Tom LaBonge strolled about in his Hawaiian shirt.
"Nobody, apparently, is listening right now," Diamond said at one point during his hearing. A few minutes later, he complained again.
"We're all paying attention," said Council President Alex Padilla, who did appear to be listening to Diamond.
At the end of the hearing, council members voted unanimously against extending hours for the Blue Zebra.
Diamond's complaint is a common one about Los Angeles City Council members, who until a few years ago even sat with their backs to the public.
Though they now position their comfy leather chairs to face the hard wooden benches set out for the public, many members use their thrice-weekly meetings to read their mail, catch up with one another, make travel arrangements on their laptops or pen a few lines of poetry.
