When Politicos Gather at the Meal Table

Seems like politicians like nothing better than a political dinner. Or even a lunch. Here are notes on a couple from the past week’s menu.

After Phil Burton’s funeral in San Francisco four years ago, a group of his friends wound up eating pasta and drinking a little wine in a North Beach restaurant, telling stories about the colorful, powerful congressman. The combination of good food and good memories softened the pain of losing the much-loved Burton, especially for his widow Sala, so pals like L.A. attorney Wally Karabian, political consultant Joe Cerrell and former Assembly Minority Leader Paul Priolo started a yearly tradition of a lunch “remembering Phil.” The lunches featured seven dozen regulars--like former Assembly Speaker Pro Tem Jack Knox, state Sens. Al Alquist and Nick Petris, and the late congressman’s two brothers, John L. (himself a former member of the House) and Bob Burton.

It was, many thought, a nice tradition. But one that apparently abruptly ended last week.

The gathering at Jovenelo’s was the first lunch since the death earlier this year of Sala Burton, who had followed her husband into the House. Yet the regulars still turned out for the lunch and the stories.

The first “Burton” story came from Nancy Pelosi, who dropped by between stops in her campaign for Phillip Burton’s old seat in the House. (She won the Democratic nomination a few days later, which in that district is tantamount to election.) Although Pelosi’s story concerned a conversation months back between her and Burton’s brother John, it told a lot about the way San Francisco felt about Phil.

Pelosi quoted John L. as saying that he didn’t believe in an afterlife: “Banging a table, he said, ‘When it happens, it happens.’ ”

Then, Pelosi continued, she reminded the younger Burton that when she had started her campaign for his late brother’s seat, John L. had invoked Phil’s name, threatening that “Phil would kick the heck out of you” if she didn’t win. And when she reminded John L. of his previously announced position against an afterlife, he had replied, “When I said there wasn’t an afterlife, I didn’t mean Phil.”

California Transportation Committee Chairman Bill Bagley shouted from his table: “This is the afterlife here,” looking around at the crowd. He then

told a story of how Phil Burton involved himself in “saving” his opposition, the state Republican Party, by engineering legislation that gave the power at state conventions to incumbents.

There were a couple of raunchy jokes from Karabian. And then, just as the tone of the lunch was set, it was halted, as John L. announced that there would be a “moratorium” on the annual get-togethers.

There was a mild debate, which John L. not only ended but made somber by repeating, “My wishes . . . just a little respite.” For a few minutes, following John L.’s departure, people advanced reasons for the announcement: He had wanted the tradition just for Sala, it was too hard for him, he simply thought the wake had gone on long enough.

And somehow that was the end, and people went back to lobby or to their elections or whatever politicans do when something quite dear to them finally does die.

It could be the first time in recent history that the actual seating of a trio of supporters at a political dinner was itself a spotlighted event.

City Attorney Jimmy Hahn proved that he’s got strong bipartisan support by lining up, at the same table, a not-usually-seen-together trio at his dinner at the Century Plaza Tuesday night. From left, at a table hosted by insurance exec Bill Hooper, were City Councilman Zev Yaroslavsky (fielding queries as to when he was going to announce for mayor), A.M.E. Bishop H. H. Brookins (part of Mayor Tom Bradley’s insider circle) and Mrs. Republican herself, Margaret Brock. “Why I’ve never seen my councilman before, except on television,” said Mrs. Brock, with a girlish GOP giggle and a nod to Yaroslavsky.

The evening, unlike most on the chicken-circuit, had a familial feeling. Downtown attorney Neil Papiano with Sharon Thralls chatted with Chief Assistant Atty. Gen. Barbara Johnson (her boss, Atty. Gen. John Van de Kamp had stopped by on his way to a black-tie dinner). Close supporters table-hopped, like Coastal Commissioner Mark Nathanson (seated with Hahn, his wife Monica and his mother, Ramona), Councilman Joel Wachs, Judge Michael Louros, political consultant Hal Dash, former L.A. County Dist. Atty. Bob Philibosian and Hahn campaign strategist Alan Artikoff, who announced to Nathanson, “I ran up the debt and you paid it off.” Deputy Mayor Tom Houston was there in a tux as was Gary Hart’s California coordinator Rick Allen.

Other political notes: Ed Saunders squired Kitty Dukakis around the pre-dinner reception, as part of her two-day introduction to Los Angeles. The Carter White House veteran also signed up Nick Patsouras and fund-raiser Irene Tritschler for the presidential try by Massachusettes Gov. Michael Dukakis, who’ll be in town for a two-day swing May 19.

Hahn was fighting the flu and, admittedly, is not the most exciting of speakers on a good night. But the entire crowd was more than moved when he ended his speech by talking about his father, Supervisor Kenneth Hahn. “He’s getting out of the hospital,” the younger Hahn announced to tumultuous applause. “ . . . I want to tell you that there is no way he’s not going back on the Board of Supervisors.”

Quickly the dinner ended. “It has to be 9:30,” the city attorney insisted, shortly afterwards. “All Hahn dinners end by 9:15.”