There was also no proposal to take down another sign, a mandate every time a new sign is erected.
And one other thing: Cipollini didn't own the land. The city did.
But Cipollini had something to offer: money. He promised the city a cut of the billboard's revenue.
In relatively short order, the city leased its land to Cipollini's company, and the billboard went up earlier this year.
The city gets $2,500 a month plus 10 percent of the billboard's gross revenues over the first 10 years. For May, the city received $4,370 - $2,500 plus $1,870 - meaning the billboard's gross revenue is $18,700 monthly, or $224,400 yearly.
"Somebody made us an offer where we can make money," Rendell said last fall, noting that many billboards are in the area. "It's not like we're despoiling an area where there's no billboards."
Frank Vespe, until recently a top official of Scenic America Inc., a nonprofit conservation group, called the deal "deeply, deeply troubling . . . because it implies that all the laws are for sale. If the argument is that we get money from it, well, yeah, you could get money from a lot of things if you're willing to sell the law."
When Cipollini first applied for a license, the city's Licenses and Inspections Department rejected the application because the billboard violated so many sections of the law. His company, Keystone Outdoor Advertising, appealed to the city Zoning Board of Adjustment, whose six members are appointed by the mayor. The board granted the necessary variances in October.
Kevin Feeley, the mayor's spokesman, said the city took the deal "because we're a city that needs revenue."
But Councilman David Cohen had a simpler idea for raising money: Enforce the 1991 law and collect the required billboard fees.
"It's kind of ironic," Cohen said, "that the mayor has let millions and millions go uncollected, yet proposes a site at Delaware and Pattison to collect a pittance of revenue."
