Hidden Assets : Politics: Quadriplegic Assemblyman Tom Bordonaro does not consider himself an advocate for the disabled. Even so, he is making changes.

Not long ago, California’s pharmacists came to town and hosted a get-acquainted reception for legislators. The fete was held at Frank Fat’s restaurant, a venerable haunt of choice for the capital’s power elite.

Like other freshmen legislators, Assemblyman Tom Bordonaro was eager to attend. There was just one problem: He could not get into the party. Literally.

Bordonaro, 36, is a quadriplegic who uses a wheelchair. Frank Fat’s banquet room is up a flight of stairs; hence, Bordonaro was out of luck.

What is most intriguing about this story is Bordonaro’s reaction. Instead of pitching a fit, the assemblyman adopted a no-big-deal approach: “It’s unfortunate,” he mused recently, “but eventually they’ll get the message and change their ways.”

Elected in November, Bordonaro is the first quadriplegic to serve in the California Legislature--and only the second member in a wheelchair. As a result, he now commands a powerful pulpit from which to trumpet--and perhaps remedy--the troubles of California’s 2.4 million disabled residents. That, however, is not his style.

Indeed, Bordonaro opposed the Americans With Disabilities Act--the landmark federal law banning discrimination against the disabled--and he considers many regulations protecting the disabled too burdensome for business. Progress, he believes, can best be won through public awareness and persuasion--with a carrot, not a stick.

“To the dismay of many folks, I’m just not a huge disabled advocate,” said Bordonaro, a conservative Republican from San Luis Obispo County. “Sure I’ll help on some things, but I was elected to serve my district. That’s my priority and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Given his lukewarm interest in their cause, some disabled activists lament Bordonaro’s election.

Others, however, are more upbeat. “He may not see himself as an advocate, but he is--just by being here,” said Kathleen Barrett, who works for the California Assn. of Persons With Handicaps.

A garrulous man with a self-deprecating wit, Bordonaro has spent half his life in a wheelchair after a car accident when he was 18.

Until last year, Bordonaro was content to help manage his family’s alfalfa and cattle ranching business in Paso Robles.

But when the assemblywoman in his district announced that she was leaving, friends persuaded Bordonaro to run. The political rookie beat six opponents in the GOP primary, then drubbed his Democratic rival.

His disability never came up in the campaign, but he suspects that it may have been an asset: “I think my opponents were afraid to attack me. Who’s gonna beat up on the poor guy in the wheelchair?”

It is unlikely that that will hold true in the Assembly. So far, Bordonaro has kept a low profile. But one of his bills--rescinding conjugal visits for certain state prisoners--is likely to stir a fuss. And another--requiring public disclosure of the names of juveniles arrested for certain crimes--drew fire this week.

Although Bordonaro may hesitate to introduce legislation on behalf of the disabled, he has made a phone call or two.

This year, the DMV issued disabled people new license plates bearing a large, glow-in-the-dark wheelchair logo. Many disabled drivers worried that the highly visible logo told criminals they were vulnerable. The assemblyman intervened, ensuring that those who prefer a less obtrusive plate may get one.

Bordonaro has made a mark in another way as well. Before his arrival in Sacramento, numerous changes were made to the Capitol, leaving it far more accessible to those with disabilities--as mandated by federal law.