Special Day of Celebration for the Special Olympics

The celebration of the Special Olympics Monday turned into one of the “thousand points of light” that President-elect George Bush kept campaigning about. For one brief shining moment, it also looked a lot like Camelot.

No one from either coast will ever believe that Hollywood is not one continual party--or that Washington is not the world’s most exciting city. And the change of administration surely will not change the now writ-in-stone rule: Everybody in show business wants to be in politics--everybody in politics wants to be in show business.

This was a day packed with Special Olympics celebrations, starting with a State Department luncheon that was warm and wonderful, honoring the producers of the album “A Very Special Christmas.” Night brought a gala premiere benefit of Universal’s “Twins”--crowded with cheering Bushes, Kennedys, Shrivers, dozens of film execs and movie stars, most of whom all wound up twisting the night away at a motion-picture perfect party.

The “Twins” stars, Danny DeVito and Arnold Schwarzenegger, stuck to their roles as members of the audience at the luncheon where A&M; record execs Herb Alpert, Jerry Moss and Gil Friesen were honored by the Special Olympics for the album that has raised $10 million for the organization. But special kudos went to the album’s executive producer, Jimmy Iovine, who was looking for a way to honor his late father, a Brooklyn longshoreman, when his wife Vicki suggested the Special Olympics, where she volunteered.

“Only Jimmy could have lined up this group of artists on this album,” according to his close friend, record mogul Danny Goldberg--who also lamented that Iovine had left his trademark baseball cap at home.

“Every cent that A&M; made for this album went directly to the cause,” Herb Alpert said before the lunch, as around him milled an eclectic bunch that included Ethel Kennedy, DeVito in an open-necked sport shirt, his wife, actress Rhea Perlman, Schwarzenegger’s wife Maria Shriver, former Sen. John and Kathinka Tunney, Universal Motion Picture president Tom and Peggy Pollock and Creative Artists Agency exec Fred Spector with his wife Pam. “I hope people don’t think there’s always this much profit in making records,” Moss kidded to his wife Ann, explaining that since A&M; took no money they were able to go to agents, artists and others involved in the production of the album and get them also to work for nothing.

Asst. Secretary of State John Whitehead, explaining that the State Department lent its elaborate dining room only to volunteer groups with an international impact, stressed that “few groups help as many diverse people as Special Olympics . . . like this room, Special Olympics represents the best of America.” He praised Sargent and Eunice Shriver, creators of the 20-year-old program of sports training and athletic competition for mentally retarded children and adults, and brought on the first wave of rowdy cheers from a crowd determined to really show their appreciation.

The lunchtime conversation was unique. Super elegant socialite Evangeline Bruce was seated beside former Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara, telling a story about her diplomat husband David Bruce and Ernest Hemingway “liberating the Ritz hotel in Paris after the war.”

Schwarzenegger introduced someone that he said he knew “since the ‘Conan’ days” to Tom Pollock. Pollock had brought along the newsmagazines’ raves about “Twins”--but his star was concerned about the phrase “endearing and incongruously sweet” that one reviewer had used in describing his performance. “Arnold,” Pollock said, “that’s you. That’s just you.” Whereupon, Schwarzenegger flashed an endearing and incongruously sweet smile.

His uncle-in-law, however, had a different description of Schwarzenegger, asking the crowd: “Wouldn’t he make a beautiful Secretary of Defense?”

Beginning his emceeing duties, Sen. Edward M. Kennedy carefully introduced himself as the president of the Joseph P. Kennedy Jr. Foundation, which is the parent organization of the Special Olympics: “I am the president of that organization because my family thought I should be president of something.” Then Kennedy turned serious, thanking the Shrivers for “work well-done. . . . The New Frontier is alive and well.”

Introducing the Iovines, who along with the other honorees received Special Olympic medals, New Jersey Sen. Bill Bradley shook his head and said: “What a team you are!” Jimmy Iovine just said that he wanted “to thank everybody for coming and it really was a great party.”

And, speaking of great parties. . . .

Night came, and there were Schwarzenegger and DeVito on a platform at one end of the Grand Foyer in Kennedy Center with the Shrivers, President-elect George and Barbara Bush and a group of Special Olympians showing off their skills in front of the almost-thousand-strong crowd.

“This is a kinder and gentler group,” Danny Goldberg quipped. (Goldberg is president of the Los Angeles American Civil Liberties Foundation.) He and Iovine had boosted themselves up on the platform base of the giant-size trademark cutouts of the “Twins” stars, and, between them and the makeshift stage, milled the likes of columnist George Will, columnist Rowland Evans with his wife Kay, L.A.’s Felisa and Nick Vanoff (still glowing after his raging success with the Kennedy Center Honors show); producer Al Ruddy, with his wife, Armani’s Wanda McDaniel Ruddy; songwriter Marvin Hamlisch, actor Chuck Norris, and a group of U.S. Olympians, including Matt Biondi and Bart Conner.

Universal’s Sally Van Slyke had slicked together an event that just didn’t end. Short speeches in the theater, the presentation of colors by dozens of Special Olympians, then the film. Some of the political types looked as though they were surprised movies came both with sound and in color--but the crowd went crazy for the comedy.

Then out to the Shrivers’ new home in suburban Potomac, Md., where a large and toasty-warm tent could barely contain the party. Bobby Shriver--who with Vicki Iovine and attorney Paul Marshall, worked as coordinating producer on the album--acted as emcee. The dance floor was crowded. (The Vanoffs actually did the twist.) Adrienne Feldman, one of the evening’s co-chairs, danced by with her husband Mike. Carol Leif, the granddaughter of MCA’s Lew Wasserman, re-met Bobby Shriver. Gayle Wilson looked for her husband, Sen. Pete Wilson, in the maelstrom of partydom. Revlon’s Ron Perelman had picked up the tab for the gala--but business had called him out of the country.

Actress Lynda Carter and her attorney-husband Robert Altman and Barbara Walters and Merv Adelson made up the necessary contingent of bicoastal twosomes for the evening. And, across the crowded room, Donald Trump himself was saying, yes, he’s going to become involved in the Special Olympics.

The film was a tough act to follow. In fact, it was impossible for Bobby Shriver to quiet the crowd late in the evening. No luck. So Danny DeVito took the mike: “Sit down. Be quiet.” They did.

It was worth the effort. For 10 minutes two mentally retarded students from the Mill House School for Handicapped Children in England, danced a piece from “The Phantom of the Opera.” It was wonderful. They brought down the house.

Earlier in the evening, George Bush had talked about what courage can bring. First he kidded about the “courage” of Schwarzenegger, “who more than once campaigned for me and then returned home each time to face his in-laws.” Turning serious, the President-elect talked about Special Olympians showing courage to go over “insurmountable objects . . . emerging on top, always a champion.”

As the British students Gail Sutton and Michael Rymm danced, concentrating so hard on the intricacies that they occasionally forgot to smile, it was clear to everyone in the tent--stars and celebs, politicos and personalities--that sometimes champions didn’t jump over hurdles.

No, they simply danced over them.