Columnist Jon Ralston: Politics proves to be a game of inches

Wednesday, April 5, 2000 | 9:35 a.m.

Such a simple story.

Man owns building. Man moves business out of building. Man watches area around building deteriorate. Man tries to sell building to maximize profit. A happy ending.

One month after this story slipped into the public domain, though, it has metamorphosed into a complex, volatile and unpredictable tale that has perfectly captured how the country's fastest-growing city cannot escape its seedy, small-town roots.

That's because the man is Sig Rogich, who has spun tales for clients and about himself for years, seemingly connected to everyone who has run for office in Nevada during the last quarter-century. It's also because Rogich is trying to unload the building that once housed the state's most influential ad firm, R&R Advertising, so it can be converted into a topless bar, which he cannot do without a city award of a liquor license. And it's also because an unfortunate combination of Murphy's Law, City Hall incompetence and crisscrossing relationships have caused conspiracy theories to sprout and turned a simple tale into a labyrinthine mess.

In the greatest irony of a story with irony piled upon irony, if the council approves Rogich's application this afternoon, it will be mostly because a man who has been seen for years as one of the state's most influential figures has succeeded in depicting himself as a poor, innocent victim. The facts remain simple. Rogich's building is within 1,500 feet of a couple of other liquor licenses, a violation of city code. The city attorney's office has advised the council folks this week that this fact disqualifies Rogich's application, even though Rogich has found cases where the city has been inconsistent.

All hell -- and all juice and all politics -- broke loose two months ago when the city Planning Commission unanimously denied the application. Rogich, either not confident of the merits of his case, not secure in his own influence on Stewart Avenue or not willing to trust the council's good sense, brought to bear a lobbying team. One of those hired, Bubba Grimes, was retained through Rogich's close friend, Tom Letizia (Letizia helped elect Mayor Oscar Goodman, and Grimes is seen as close to some council members).

Goodman initially was skeptical and the board's other moving force, Councilman Michael McDonald, had told people he didn't like the project but would abstain because of his relationship with Rogich and a pending Ethics Commission hearing. A vote was postponed two weeks ago when a city survey popped up that showed the building was too close (by 16 inches) to a school.

When that survey proved faulty, McDonald came out of the closet -- he called the city surveying team into his office and demanded they measure all around the property -- and the county licenses came into play. What may have cemented the votes for the application, though, was that a majority of council folks fingered McDonald as the architect of a mail piece that targeted them and Rogich.

And that's another one of the ironies -- sources say it wasn't McDonald who sent the piece but someone else who has a beef with Rogich, a man now discovering that not everyone feels his pain and some want him to feel more.

Add in the ties of various competing topless bar entrepreneurs to City Council folks -- and the fact that some of the politicians have direct or indirect political ties to Rogich -- and the story becomes even less simple. Rogich remains likely to hear the happy ending he desires later today -- the votes appear solid to hear and then pass the application. And a victory might help ease the public torture inflicted upon him by his own actions, a buffoonish City Hall and his political and economic enemies.