In the broadway classic "The Music Man," a slick con-artist arrives in the small midwestern town of River City and proceeds to convince the populace that they are facing an impending explosion of juvenile delinquency. The cause--a new pool hall that's just opened. The con-man tells the townspeople that the only way to save their children is to enroll them in a wholesome activity--a marching band--and then sells them expensive uniforms and instruments.

Well, if you have some extra trumpets and sousaphones you're looking to unload, you might want to head to Quincy, Mass., whose working-class community is all riled up over a more '90s type "threat" to their children.

Body Xtremes, a North Quincy store owned by 49-year-old Mik Miller, sells clothing, original leatherwork and body piercing. Only a week after opening this past June, Miller received a phone call from Quincy city councillor Bruce Ayers, who asked Miller why he hadn't requested permission to open his store. Of course, Miller didn't need the city council's permission to start his business, but the telephone call was only the beginning of an irrational and seemingly endless persecution by certain elements in the town. Cops hassle Miller's employees when they stand outside the store, Ayers has circulated petitions against Miller, and the city council is currently working on passing body-piercing regulations so prohibitive they would essentially force Miller out of business.

But Mik Miller isn't the first body piercer in town. So why is Quincy out to get him? When I asked him this question, his answer was unequivocal--it has to do with the way he looks.

A mohawk, tattoos and at least a dozen facial piercings give Miller the semblance of someone out of a biker movie. And the townspeople are apparently convinced that his mere presence puts their children in dire peril of turning into multiply-pierced punks. According to the Boston Phoenix, which reported the story, councillor Ayers believes Miller is a threat to local business, public health and the well being of the community--particularly children.

And so the city council, which apparently has nothing better to do, has decided to make Mik-removal their number-one priority. Lacking the power to directly force Body Xtremes to shut down, the council is trying to regulate it out of existence. Since Massachusetts currently has no laws relating to body-piercing, they've put together a city ordinance that includes health guidelines, training requirements and some miscellaneous clauses Miller finds completely inexplicable. Miller has no problem with the health guidelines--according to him, his piercing studio is like an operating room. He thoroughly sterilizes his instruments after each use and uses only disposable needles.

Miller's main problem lies with part of the regulations that would force him to close his store and attend a 15-week course in physiology--which would essentially put him out of business. Miller says he's been piercing for 19 years and knows everything he needs to know. He also feels that 15 weeks is too long even for a new piercer, and that six weeks would be quite adequate.

Additionally, Miller finds it unreasonable that the ordinance requires all piercers to show proof of a one-year apprenticeship--and finds it inexplicable that it requires customers to pay before being pierced.

And he feels the city council is playing dirty in their procedures. Most notably, he was scheduled to speak against the ordinance at an open town meeting on Nov.4. But when he arrived with enough supporters to fill the meeting room, and several television stations showed up to cover the proceedings, the council suddenly decided to close the meeting and continued on to speak against Miller in private. But Miller expects another open meeting to be scheduled in the near future and says the council, which could pass the ordinance now, will probably wait until after that meeting to enact the regulations.

And the silliness threatens to go beyond the local level. According to Miller, Michael Bellotti, Quincy's state representative, plans to introduce Quincy's proposed regulations--both reasonable and unreasonable--to the state legislature.

The irony here is that the vehemence of Quincy's city council is the kind of community action that is so sorely lacking in many of America's neighborhoods where real threats--drugs, gangs, etc.--abound. But in Quincy, the antibody piercing brou-ha-ha seems like nothing more than a witch hunt. Miller's store is clean, he's experienced, and his services aren't even unique. Yet the good citizens of Quincy seem convinced that the only way to safeguard their children is to ride Miller out of town on a rail. They don't seem to realize that if their children want to get pierced, they'll get pierced, and the only way to stop them is to sit them down and talk. But of course, finding a scapegoat is easy. Dealing with real problems in your family and community is hard.

David H. Goldbrenner's column appears on alternate Fridays.