GOOD HEALTH MAGAZINE : PSYCHOLOGY : EASY DOES IT : STRESS IS AN IRKSOME PART OF LIFE; YET SOME SEEM TO COPE, EVEN THRIVE, UNDER IT. SIX CALIFORNIANS TELL HOW THEY MAINTAIN THEIR EQUILIBRIUM

Midway through a steamy Friday afternoon, a tanker truck overturned on the Golden State Freeway northwest of downtown Los Angeles, spewing gasoline near the Colorado Street exit. Caltrans predicted that the tie-up would last until at least 7 p.m. Work-weary drivers swore, snarled and chain-smoked their way up the pavement, nearly all of them looking impatient--except the pony-tailed woman in the battered white van.

Seemingly oblivious to the sea of cars and trucks, the woman plucked a guitar with one hand and steadied the steering wheel with the other. Her solution to traffic-jam Angst wouldn’t win an award from the California Highway Patrol. But in the eyes of stress-reduction experts, her heart--if not her hands--is in the right place.

Stress, as anyone breathing knows, is a part of life. And it’s becoming a bigger part, according to a 1989 Louis Harris Survey conducted for Prevention magazine. Last year, 63% of Americans polled reported feeling “great stress” at least once a week. Six years ago, only 55% said they felt greatly stressed that often. And, the survey found, stress most often strikes those with the highest and lowest incomes.

Yet, some people seem to cope, even thrive, under stress. What follows are stories of how a few Southern Californians manage to maintain their physical and mental equilibrium despite their demanding pace.

BING CLAWSBY, PART Siamese and totally arrogant, prances away from Michael Feinstein’s concert grand piano and out of the living room of his Hollywood Hills home. He cares not a whit that he’s supposed to be posing for a photograph.

Bing is spoiled, as Feinstein is the first to admit. Feinstein indulges the feline, advising the photographer that his four-legged subject may or may not be back. “When I’m gone on tour,” says Feinstein, a concert pianist and singer, “four people come by to take care of him.” Bing’s important to him not merely for companionship but for stress reduction. “They’ve done research, you know, that animals are wonderful for reducing stress,” says Feinstein, scooping up Bing as the cat returns and coaxing him back under the photographic lights. “Just spending time playing with him is relaxing.”

Feinstein’s schedule is anything but relaxing. In the past three years, he has made his Broadway debut in a standing-room-only concert, played to overflow audiences at the Hollywood Bowl and performed a live concert filmed for a BBC one-hour television special. Last September, his sixth album, a collection of MGM movie songs, was released. A devotee of American popular music of the ‘20s, ‘30s and ‘40s, Feinstein, 33, grew up in the Midwest listening to the music of George and Ira Gershwin, Irving Berlin and Cole Porter. Feinstein has won rave reviews from the nation’s press, which has dubbed him “the master of the high-class cabaret circuit” and praised his “unique rendition of vintage show tunes.”

To cope with the stress of new-found fame, Feinstein has developed an eclectic program. Besides Bing Clawsby’s companionship, he relies on exercise. He uses a rowing machine--folded up under his grand piano when not in use--at least three times a week when he’s not on the road. Says Feinstein: “I don’t particularly like exercise, but I feel better when I do it.”

Every morning, he does his exercises in reflexology, a system of hand and foot massage to promote health and reduce stress. “Another thing I do for relaxation is meditation,” he adds. Feinstein also pays attention to his diet but not to the bathroom scale, a plan that appears to work for the trim pianist. But don’t label him perfect. He confesses to occasional binges. “Chocolate and pizza,” he says.

Learning to say no to professional demands helps keep Feinstein on an even keel as well. “When you become successful,” he says, “the first thing you do is say yes to everything.” He’s learned to resist. And even if he can spare only a few days off, he tries to get away. Joshua Tree and Angeles Forest are two favorite nearby destinations. He escapes when he can to his new second home in Santa Fe.

Feinstein even finds relaxation in the source of his stress. “Music can alter your mood and transport you to another place. I can be in a very bad mood. But when I go on stage, I’m immediately in better spirits.”

EVEN THROUGH SHADED windows, the sun was bright enough for Karen Snyder to slip on her sunglasses before settling in to resume her shift as an air-traffic controller at John Wayne Airport in Orange County. This particular morning promised to be more demanding than usual. One runway had been closed, so taxiing planes that ordinarily would be turned left would have to be directed to turn right.

In a given hour, estimates Snyder (who was recently transferred to Tucson International Airport), she’s involved in about 125 transmissions--some brief, others complicated. Twelve commercial planes plus numerous private aircraft can leave the airport during that time. Snyder’s work hours are staggered. Within a week, her shifts can range from early morning to evening. Plane crashes are always a possibility. Last year, Snyder witnessed one that killed a family of five. Two minutes after takeoff, the plane went down and exploded in flames, narrowly missing players on a nearby tennis court.

“The worst part is when there’s nothing you can do, when you must just sit there and watch,” says Snyder, who took a half-hour break after the crash and then returned to work.

Then there are what Snyder, 33, describes as lesser hassles, including pilots who argue on the frequency. “They’ll argue about all kinds of things. If they can’t have the runway they want, or because they have been waiting for a long time to depart.” To defuse them, Snyder’s learned to keep her sense of humor. “Some pilots make fun of others’ landings,” she says, laughing. “Some make comments like ‘Take that, runway.’ ”

Off-duty, Snyder relies on exercise to quell stress. A triathlete, she swims six days a week, runs about an hour a day and bicycles three times a week. She lifts weights for two hours three times a week. But her stress-reduction techniques aren’t all physical. Somewhere between eating right and pumping iron, she tries to squeeze in a good junk novel or two.

And she’s been known to rely on old-fashioned exasperation to get her sanely through a shift. It worked the morning of the runway closure, when one pilot couldn’t seem to comprehend Snyder’s crystal-clear directions to get off the Tarmac.

“I am off the runway,” he insisted, although parked smack in the middle. Snyder begged--politely--to differ and repeated her instructions through gritted teeth, at first to no avail. When the pilot finally moved and Snyder was sure he was safe--and out of earshot--she employed a little impromptu stress reduction. “What an idiot!” she muttered, setting off peals of laughter in the control tower.

WHEN WORK GETS too hectic for Josh Reynolds, the Santa Monica entrepreneur goes in for a “relaxation tune-up.”

His personal body shop is in the Beverly Hills office of Dr. Gary Jay, a headache and pain-control specialist, who leads Reynolds into the Environ, a sensory stimulation “space-capsule.” Jay and Frank Italiane designed the computer-controlled unit to teach people the relaxation response. As the user sits on a comfortable, vibrating chair, lights flash and a relaxation tape plays. Pleasant aromas waft in. Using biofeedback and neurological and psychological technology, the unit aims to quell both chronic and acute stress. A half hour in the unit, Reynolds and others attest, leaves users disinclined to swear in traffic or blow up at life’s minor annoyances.

Reynolds, 47, who counts the mood-stone ring as one of his inventions, uses the Environ about once a month, whenever he gets “out of groove.” That’s easy to do, considering his 12-hour-a-day schedule as chairman of Molecular Electronics in Torrance. Reynolds is developing products such as “tissue-friendly” contact lenses that repel bothersome protein deposits. He anticipates that the lenses will be on the market within a year or so. Until then, he’s got much to accomplish, including the completion of a joint-venture agreement with a manufacturer and additional fund-raising for payroll and research. Reynolds spends about a week a month on the road, jetting to Europe, New York and Canada to meet with venture capitalists and suppliers.

To keep himself in sync between Environ tuneups, Reynolds listens to back-up relaxation tapes at home and occasionally goes to mineral baths. “And I get a massage every two or three weeks.” Other sure-fire stress busters are tennis and vegetarian cooking.

Divorced, Reynolds spends as much weekend time as possible with his 8-year-old daughter, Christina, who lives nearby with her mother. He’s adamant about squeezing work into the workweek--not letting it spill into the weekend.

AT WORK,DR. SOTERIA Karahalios finds herself in a double bind. As a cardiologist, she often must instruct her patients to reduce stress, slow down and learn to take life a little easier.

Usually, she dispenses this advice as she’s dashing from one patient to the next, trying to keep up with the demands of her busy Santa Monica group practice and her work as director of cardiac rehabilitation at nearby St. John’s Hospital and Health Center.

Last year, a new, if joyful, source of stress came on the scene. Karahalios and her husband, Dr. Alexander Dubelman, a cardiac anesthesiologist at Brotman Medical Center in Culver City, welcomed their first baby, Andreas Dubelman. Healthy now, the baby had a rough start, suffering respiratory problems so severe that he stopped breathing six times in three days, Karahalios recalls. “We thought the baby might die.”

At first, Karahalios cut back a bit on her duties so she could spend two afternoons a week with Andreas. Now she’s back to her practice full-time. It’s a full week, typically crammed with 12-hour workdays along with on-call duties one day a week and one weekend a month. “The patients we take care of need you there quickly,” notes Karahalios, who can reach the hospital from her Mandeville Canyon home in seven minutes. “When it comes to the decision about treatment after a heart attack, the sooner the better.”

When life gets really hectic, she tries to escape with her family to Monterey, where they have a second home. If time allows, they travel to Greece, where many of her relatives live. Exercise helps, too. Complaining that she still has “baby fat” to shed, Karahalios runs 2 to 4 miles a day and bicycles with her husband on weekends. “Running helps keep my weight down and makes me feel as if I’ve had a chance to play,” says Karahalios, 38.

She’s almost embarrassed to mention another stress reducer: her house plants. “I have about 30 plants. I go through the house, cut the dead leaves off and water the plants.”

WHENEVER A MEDICAL advance occurs, Ramon Aninag anticipates a busier-than-usual day. As an administrative assistant at UCLA’s Health Sciences Communications office, he knows he’ll be fielding more than the usual number of telephone calls from reporters, asking for a university expert to comment on anything from new AIDS research to the latest cure for hiccups.

From 8 a.m. until 5 p.m.--”I don’t eat lunch”--Aninag takes seriously his role as the first impression most callers have of the university. In a typical day, he handles up to 100 telephone calls. Besides calls from media, there are inquiries from physicians hoping to get help publicizing their research, along with a goodly share of misdirected calls. “Sometimes I can hear in the callers’ voices that they’ve been transferred six times,” he says, so he tries to be patient.

When he’s not answering phones, Aninag, 32, may be helping one of the 12 staff members with a computer problem in his newly added role of computer system trouble-shooter.

Staying stress-free seems easy for Aninag, who loves fast social dancing and often dances until the wee hours on weekends. He tries to visit the gym regularly for weightlifting and other exercises. And he refuses to give in to frazzled freeway nerves. “I leave my car at home to reduce stress and save money,” he says. “Parking is expensive.” Instead, he catches the bus and relaxes during the 20-minute ride.

CARLOS ‘N CHARLIE’S on Sunset Boulevard was crammed full of record industry executives on a recent Saturday night. Next on stage was Joyce Simpson, one of five featured acts in the showcase evening designed to catch the eyes and ears of industry bigwigs. Clad in a silver sequined sheath, the vocalist cooed her way through the numbers. And wasn’t the least bit nervous, she claimed later.

This is just Simpson’s after-hours diversion, after all. By day, she works as an administrator of international advertising for Warner Bros. in Burbank. She manages ads for films in 10 countries, handling seven or eight movies at once. Her job entails much telephone work. “In the morning, I’m talking to Europeans. After lunch, it’s the Australians. Evenings, it’s Far Easterners.

“We’re always working in the past, present and future,” says Simpson, referring to the stages of production of the movies. “I’m dealing with so many movies at one time, I can start 10 or 15 projects a day. And I’m always working against a deadline.”

Last year, she also had to squeeze in a few conversations with the police. “In seven months, my car was stolen four times,” moans Simpson, 30, who traded it after the last recovery.

She’s learned to handle her stressful schedule partly by paying attention to diet and exercise. Every other day, she gets up earlier than usual and walks 2 miles in her neighborhood. “It makes me feel good and helps me put things in perspective.” She tries to watch her diet and recently cut out all sweets. “It’s made a difference,” she says. Other tried-and-true stress busters: taking herbal baths with relaxing background music and turning a deaf ear to the outside world once she’s home. “I don’t ever answer the phone at home. I leave my answering machine on.”