‘92 REPUBLICAN CONVENTION : Texas Serves Up Saucy Parties for Delegates : Festivities: The convention hosts are piling on the barbecue and country music. Cowboy boots and jeans have replaced suits and gowns.

HOUSTON — Maybe Texans eat nouvelle cuisine 350 days a year, but it seems they feel compelled to wheel out the ranch food when they invite guests from out of state.

Call it performance food. All weekend long, Texas has tried to outdo Texas by slathering Republican convention delegates in barbecue sauce and herding them into the company of farm animals.

At party after party, at rodeos, ranches and receptions, there has been so much sticky red sauce, served up with that other ubiquitous dish, fractious party politics, that it seemed the only really soothing thing the Lone Star State has had to offer was the unseasonably temperate weather.

Relieved not to be sweating, thousands of Republicans wildly sopped up the fun, leaving silk ties and pearls in their suitcases and buying cowboy boots and Western-style shirts.

More than a few congressmen and Cabinet members, looking awkward instead of cheerful in their ironed blue jeans with creases, did the standard Washington party routine: drop by, say hello, scurry on. They never eat.

Yet despite the heavy-handed mariachi and country music, nobody kidded themselves about who was behind all this heehaw and howdy stuff: Most parties were sponsored by corporations or backed by oil interests--a reminder of who erected all those glass boxes in downtown Houston.

The party began before it really began. Aboard a Saturday afternoon flight from New York to Houston, the Westchester County, N.Y., delegation couldn’t sit still. Mostly, they jostled cocktails and straw hats, and taunted each other about who would have the guts to sneak “Dump Quayle” posters into the Astrodome this week.

After an in-flight dinner of barbecued chicken (definitely not mesquite-grilled), the younger members of the delegation rushed into first-class to kiss the microphone of Rush Limbaugh, the conservative radio talk-show host seated in the first row. The plane just about keeled in his direction from the onrush of fans.

The California delegates wasted no time. No sooner had they arrived in Houston on Saturday than they were bused about 60 miles west of town to the Farm and Ranch Club for a genuine rodeo--yes, with grubby, pot-bellied cowboys lethargically shooting off guns and lassoing calves in a spacious bull ring. (This should not be confused with the circular area where another type of bull is running wild--the convention floor.)

The tossup for the best performance of the evening was between Sonny Bono, straddling a superannuated white bull and the Dallas Cowboy Cheerleaders, showing more skin than silk and bumping and grinding away in this, the Year of the Woman and Family Values, to the tune of “New York, New York”--the Democrats’ on-site theme song just a month ago.

Jerry Westlund, a big, friendly John Candy-type of guy, chewed on a huge piece of barbecued brisket as he watched the cheerleaders. The chairman of the California Youth Movement for Bush looked stunned. “I’m amazed they’re doing this,” said Westlund, 27. “I guess this is what you call the ‘big tent’ approach to Republican politics.”

But Bono’s performance was probably more notable for its, well, uniqueness.

Waving his white cowboy hat and grinning foolhardily, the mayor of Palm Springs tried to bronco-buck the oldest, fattest, most bored bull in America. But the animal reportedly snorted “I got you, babe,” and lumbered back to his pen with Bono on his back.

Circulating outside the ring among the delegates, Secretary of Transportation Andrew H. Card Jr. took umbrage when a reporter commented that his pink-and-green paisley shirt was an eyesore.

“It’s a Texas shirt,” he mock-growled. “I bought it for the convention.” He also had, just that morning, bought a shiny pair of black leather cowboy boots for $259. The Massachusetts native seemed a lot more comfortable in his role as White House insider than in those boots.

“There has never been a convention where there wasn’t a lot of friction,” Card said. He wasn’t talking about his chafed toes but about the platform squabbles over abortion and taxes. “You have to remember, we have a dynamic party and we have many common interests, and my guess is that by the end of this week these delegates will come away ready to win in November.”

And then he hobbled off into the sunset.

There was something creepy about all those delegates chomping on pork ribs under the skeletal remains of a giant dinosaur at Houston’s Museum of Natural History.

But no matter. This was a proper dinosaur, a diplodocus purchased by the Junior League of Houston in 1962, so it didn’t even shudder as friends of Richard N. Bond, Republican National Committee chairman, ate and ate and ate at a party in Bond’s honor Sunday night.

Ron Lauder, a New York delegate known worldwide as Mr. Makeup, threw the bash. In addition to the RNC elite, the New York delegation was out in force.

Off in a corner by the “Fossils and Other Fragments” exhibits, Almeda C. Dake, mayor of Saratoga Springs, N.Y., and Lloyd Demboski, a legislator from nearby Warren County, were sparring over spare ribs--and every possible platform issue. They didn’t agree on anything: welfare, President Bush’s “no new taxes” pledge, abortion, war, even barbecue. (He’s barbecued out; she can’t get enough.)

He said: “I think George Bush should stand up there Thursday night and say: ‘I made a mistake by compromising with those damn Democrats in Congress, and now we have to roll those taxes back and put caps on spending.’ ”

She said: “I don’t agree. I think the deficit is a big problem, and he never should have made that statement. Now Bush is caught in a bad economic cycle, and I think he ought to just swallow it.”

They did agree that they’re old friends and that it’s nice to get together every four years--even to fight.

About 200 college-age Republicans gathered for an outdoor barbecue at a park to “get psyched” for the convention, but politics seemed far from their minds. Mostly they talked about preseason football games and college dorms. Asked about issues, they responded in sound bites.

“We’re gonna carry this thing off and win in November!” said Michael Gage, a 23-year-old student from Houston.

Kiersten Kondrac, 21, a University of Wisconsin student, had no doubt that Bush could make it in November. Kondrac said the prospect of voting for a man like Bush in her first presidential election was “so excellent.” She also said the convention was “so excellent.”

The students were big on simple messages.

An example of a sign at the party:

“Pro-Life = Pro-Bush”

An example of a button worn by one of the party-goers:

“Smile if you had an affair with Bill Clinton.”

An example of a T-shirt slogan:

“Don’t worry Chelsea, Barbara will bake you some cookies.”

When a reporter approached a group of students gathered around a keg of beer and asked for their thoughts on the upcoming election, one young woman sighed with relief.

“Oh, I thought you wanted to check our ID,” she said.

This is not to leave the impression that the Republicans are the kind of people who only eat potatoe salad and behave like the two young men at a party Sunday night who got under a table, put their heads into hollowed-out watermelons and proclaimed themselves “Watermelons for Bush!”

Really rich Republicans don’t act or eat like that.

Take, for example, the luncheon at Robert A. and Georgette Mosbacher’s mansion in the posh River Oaks neighborhood. It had it all--Houston money, Washington media, national GOP contributors and, mercifully, a relief from smoked meat. There was old-fashioned, blue-blood fare, the type of food George Bush probably had served to him in his Wedgewood Peter Rabbit bowl--shrimp over rice, fruit salad, shortbread cookies. And, there was white wine.

In addition to playing hosts, the Mosbachers--he’s the Bush/Quayle campaign chairman--were showing off that they recently renovated and redecorated. The back yard said it all--there was a lap pool, four statues of nudes in various positions and a waist-high elephant in plaster as lawn art.

Assessments, comments and quips from the well-heeled:

* Robert Sakowitz, the dapper former head of the failed Houston-based Sakowitz Department Stores: “A lot of people want to support Bush, but he’s got to define his programs.”

* Ben Love, the very tall, very distinguished, very gray former chairman of the Texas Commerce Bank: “It’s tragic that 7.8% of Americans are unemployed, but you should also look at the reciprocal--that 92% are gainfully employed. I think he should go on the offensive, not be defensive. He has accomplished a great deal.”

* An older man, a longtime Bush supporter, said to a friend: “If George Bush doesn’t do something big soon, he’ll be looking for an architect to build his new Houston home. His campaign is a shambles.”

* Prince Bandar, Saudi Arabia’s ambassador to the United States: “People here complain about the United States. If you think you have problems here, look at Somalia or other countries. This is a great country--if America sneezes, the rest of us get a cold. Seeing democracy in action this week--it is a wonderful thing.”

Shindig or showdown, the Republicans party on.

Times staff writers Jenifer Warren, John M. Broder, D’Jamila Salem and Lianne Hart contributed to this story.

Convention at a Glance

President Bush arrived at the Republican Convention feisty and fuming, telling cheering supporters: “You’re going to see the most stunning political comeback since Harry Truman gave them hell in 1948!” In a vigorous welcoming rally at the Astroarena, Bush evoked memories of Democrat Truman’s surprise victory over Republican Thomas E. Dewey in 1948. “It’s going to be curtains” for Bill Clinton, Bush said, warning the Democrat not to measure for White House drapes just yet.

In other news . . .

* Conservatives’ Day in the Sun:

Monday was a red-letter day for the right wing of the party. Aside from the platform--which itself was a tribute to their power--two of their heroes spoke in prime time: Ronald Reagan and Patrick J. Buchanan.

* Buchanan Backs Bush:

The President’s erstwhile Republican nemesis left no doubt about where he stands: With Bush. “The Buchanan Brigades are enlisted--all the way to a great comeback victory in November,” he said. And he acidly contrasted Bush with Democrat Bill Clinton. Citing Bush’s war record, and Clinton’s lack of one, Buchanan said: “Which of these two men has won the moral authority to call on Americans to put their lives at risk?” His answer: George Bush.

* GOP’s Hard Line on Abortion:

To no one’s surprise, the convention adopted a platform calling for a constitutional ban on abortion. Abortion rights supporters were unable to muster enough support for a discussion of the issue on the floor, much less a vote on the plank.

* Getting Out the Message:

Bush enlisted Reagan to help get out his hoped-for campaign theme: How his achievements in foreign policy set the stage for a revival of the economy. “Within a few short years, we Americans have experienced the most sweeping changes of this century: the fall of the Soviet Union and the rise of the global economy,” Reagan told the delegates. “Who among us would trade America’s future for that of any other country in the world?”

* Dan Quayle Rides Into Town:

The vice president arrived in Houston with a mission: to reintroduce himself to the American people as a mature politician, and to get a leg up on a bid for the White House in 1996. “I hope I have this opportunity to somewhat expose myself to the American public like I should have been introduced in 1988,” he said in an interview aboard Air Force Two.

TONIGHT’S SCHEDULE

All times Pacific Daylight

5:44-5:49 p.m. Secretary of Education Lamar Alexander

5:58-6:03 p.m. EPA Administrator William K. Reilly

6:10-6:15 p.m. Health and Human Services Secretary Louis W. Sullivan

6:42-6:52 p.m. Orange County Commissioner Gaddi Vasquez

6:57-7:07 p.m. House Minority Whip Newt Gingrich

7:14-7:29 p.m. Housing and Urban Development Secretary Jack Kemp

7:39-8:04 p.m. Keynote address by Sen. Phil Gramm of Texas

TV COVERAGE

C-SPAN: Gavel to gavel

CNN: 5 to 8:30 p.m.

PBS: 5 to 8 p.m.

CBS, NBC, ABC: 7 to 8 p.m.