Fiore Gets a Teasing Tribute : Thousand Oaks: At roast for 30-year council member, retiring mayor is needled for his junk-food love and other habits.

Just as plates of elegant mixed baby greens were placed in front of 250 Thousand Oaks residents and city officials, a Domino’s Pizza deliveryman arrived in the ballroom of the Hyatt Westlake Plaza.

Bearing high a large pepperoni pizza, he scanned the room then headed directly for Alex Fiore’s table, depositing the pie in front of the outgoing mayor, who laughed then passed out pieces to his family.

The arrival of the pizza set the tone of a community roast Wednesday night for Fiore, a teasing, sometimes tasteless, but nonetheless loving tribute.

Fiore will preside over his last council meeting Tuesday night after 30 years on the Thousand Oaks City Council.

At Wednesday’s well-attended roast it was evident that Fiore is known as much for his love of junk food as for his longevity on the council. Surprise deliveries from Taco Bell and Burger King arrived shortly after the pizza, and as the mayor sat down on the dais he was doused with table salt, a lei of hot dog links was draped around his neck and a paper crown popped onto his head.

“He’s our Burger King,” quipped City Manager Grant Brimhall.

With Fiore watching warily from one end of the dais, speaker after speaker stood up to poke fun at the 68-year-old politician’s every bad habit, from slipping off to the race track to excessive and unwanted flirtation with women at City Hall.

On Fiore’s wish list, joked Brimhall, would be “low-cut and short dresses for the women at City Hall, more makeup, a return to the security of a male-dominated society and public recognition that behind every Italian man is a voluptuous woman.”

Pausing for effect, Brimhall pointed forward, then to his sides.

“And in front of him, and to the left of him and the right of him,” he said, while Fiore cracked his trademark wide smile.

Brimhall was one of many during the evening who poked fun at the frequency with which Fiore disagrees with council members Elois Zeanah and Jamie Zukowski, who did not attend.

“When it comes time to go to that great council chamber in the sky,” he said, “I think, Alex, you might make it to heaven, even if it is on a 3-2 vote.”

Carol Larson, area manager for Southern California Edison, was the only woman among the nine roasters.

“Roast?” she said. “How about a roost. After 30 years, Alex, it’s about time you stepped down.”

Larson said Fiore’s wife, Katy, had filled her in on his home life.

“She told me, ‘Every morning he gets up, brushes his teeth and sharpens his tongue,’ ” Larson said.

Detroit Tigers Manager Sparky Anderson, a longtime winter resident of Thousand Oaks, was the master of ceremonies.

“I would only catch an event like this for Alex Fiore,” Anderson said, adding that he is a big fan of Channel 10, which airs council meetings on Tuesday nights. “At times it is funnier than ‘Laugh-In.’ ”

Switching gears temporarily to a serious note, Anderson brought a round of applause.

“There ain’t ever going to be another Alex Fiore,” he said. “Thousand Oaks won’t have anyone again that cares more about this city than Alex Fiore.”

Then the jokes started flowing again.

“This man created this community,” said Conejo Chamber of Commerce President Steve Rubenstein. “Ask him, he’ll tell you.”

The ringleaders of a five-year campaign to recall Fiore are probably buried in the cornerstone of the new Civic Arts Plaza, Rubenstein said, while Fiore shook his head and laughed.

Former Assistant City Atty. Mike Martello imitated David Letterman, reeling off a Top 10 list of the reasons Fiore was retiring, including that he “couldn’t bear the thought of life without Frank Schillo,” that “Domino’s wouldn’t deliver to the new Civic Center,” and that wife Katy “found out that the council meetings don’t last all night.”

Joel Hirschhorn, a composer who has won two Academy Awards, played the piano and sang a tribute to Fiore.

“One of our greatest pioneers, a hero for 30 years, oh that’s the story of Alex Fiore,” he sang. “A legend who inspires folks, a legend who has done so much for Thousand Oaks.”

The ballroom of the Hyatt was decorated with blown-up photographs of Fiore, as a young Navy officer, riding a donkey, standing on a ridgeline above the city at sunset, and a shot of him in a sailor suit, clutching a ball and staring into the camera. His jaw is set and he looks ready to do battle, even as an infant.

When all the roasters were finished, Fiore had his chance.

“It’s almost a pleasure to be here this evening,” he said, before unleashing his acerbic wit on his friends, reminding Rubenstein that he used to work at the International House of Pancakes and attorney Chuck Cohen that he remembered the days “when you could get 500 bucks of law for five bucks from Chuck. Now you get five bucks of law for 500 bucks.”

Later Fiore said he was not offended by any of the jabs.

“Of course not,” he said. “They were mostly all made in jest.”

“It was great fun,” he added. “I’ve never had such a good time.”