A Colorful Episode of ‘As Irvine Turns’

In the city of Irvine, where sameness is master-planned and life is well-oiled to run smoothly, something is terribly off.

A municipal soap opera is swirling around town, one the mayor says has been blown into “White House scandal proportions,” complete with voicemail messages made public and mean-spirited public spats--none of which would be terribly noteworthy if it were happening anywhere else. But here in Irvine, where good manners and quiet neighborhoods are supposed to be the law of the land, this kind of thing gets mileage.

Co-starring in the show are two city councilmen, one of whom is being dubbed by some the Linda Tripp of Irvine because he went public with a string of private yet controversial phone messages from his friend the mayor. The other is a former mayor and longtime political wave maker.

And at the center of it all is current Mayor Christina L. Shea, who, with her sharp suits and self-described “sassy” hairdo, is what many describe as a natural spokesperson for Irvine’s perfectly manicured image. She is calm and put-together and in command, running complex council meetings for a city of 130,000 as confidently as she runs her personal planner.

So when her daughter was arrested by Irvine police for possession of methamphetamine last month and Shea lost her cool, venting and rambling about entrapment and paybacks in messages left for Councilman Dave Christensen, it was like a splash of bright color in this city where pastels are de rigueur.

“In some ways I’ve had tremendous support through this,” Shea said, sifting through a stack of more than 100 telephone messages from residents. “But it’s still been just so difficult. Being in a position of leadership is a very lonely place to be anyway, even without a saga like this to deal with.”

Indeed, the mayor is having to answer to a good number of critics these days. After her 21-year-old daughter’s arrest, Shea railed against the Irvine Police Department and accused at least one officer of lying to the media about the details. Then she accused Councilman Larry Agran of leaking information about the bust to reporters, and confided in Christensen that the whole thing was “not going to go well” for police officials.

None of that would have amounted to anything if Christensen--long considered a political ally of the mayor--hadn’t turned over the private messages to the media. The councilman, an ex-cop, said he was disturbed that Shea appeared to be directing threats at police.

That was more than a week ago, and since then Shea, 49, has had time to think things over. She’s isolated herself from Christensen, whom she had long considered a friend, and from Agran, who she still suspects is responsible for most of her misery, even if she can’t exactly prove it.

The councilmen, for their part, aren’t backing down and say they’ve done nothing wrong. Christensen said he “had every right” to publicize the voice mails because they involve city affairs, and Agran has demanded that Shea write a letter of apology for accusing him of trying to sabotage her reputation.

So for now Shea is waiting. She knows that history repeats itself. And in her seven-year history with Irvine politics--four as a councilwoman and three as mayor--Shea has waited out, and waded through, a few other attacks and personal missteps. Like those, this one will go away too, she tells herself.

“And when it does, I’ll come out on top,” she said. “I always have before.”

From Homemaker to Mayoral Winner

In the beginning, Christina Shea was a homemaker who loved to cook and sew and “be a supermom.” Never dreaming she’d wind up in politics herself--”I had a terrible fear of public speaking”--Shea supported her then-husband’s stab at a seat on the Irvine City Council in 1988. He lost, but his wife prevailed four years later, after working on the periphery of her husband’s campaign and then serving as then-Councilman Barry Hammond’s community services commissioner.

“Christina’s involvement in the community has always allowed her to know exactly what the voters are looking for,” Hammond said. “She just jumps right in and goes for it. So I encouraged her to run for council, and I knew she’d win.”

Not everyone was so sure. Before she was elected, Shea and her husband, Michael, from whom she is now divorced, spearheaded the divisive Measure N--an initiative that specifically excluded homosexuals from protections against discrimination. It was Shea, deeply religious and staunchly conservative, who did most of the work, and took most of the flak, in the bitter campaign that voters narrowly approved.

“I’m a mom with three kids and I don’t want gay pride festivals . . . in my city,” she said then, words she still echoes today.

Many figured the hostile campaign, during which she was fiercely criticized by gay rights groups and the then-liberal-led city of Irvine, would forever stain any kind of political future for Shea. But Shea managed, even back then, to put the issue behind her. How?

She waited it out.

And then, months later and in true Christina Shea style, she helped organize a meeting with dozens of Christian and gay leaders to address what county officials thought was becoming a volatile division between the two groups. She promptly apologized for “hurting anybody’s feelings” with her Measure N stance and urged both sides to “work together in peace.” They did.

“She has this way with people, always has,” said Frank Caternicchio, a longtime Orange County political consultant. “I don’t know if it’s her flair or her style or what. But people just really like her.”

On one hand, Shea is a serious political player, readily able to recite the city’s budget structure and finances with precision. Shortly after being elected to the council in 1992, she was one of only two members who voted against investing in the county’s failed county bond pool--a stance she is most proud of, given her rookie political status at the time.

She was instrumental in opening a Human Options shelter in Irvine for abused women and has supported countless programs for senior citizens. She is diligent about protecting the environment and not afraid to nit-pick any number of Irvine Co. proposals. She studies staff reports and agendas exhaustively, between scheduled appearances and meetings that fill her weekly planners. She does not hold a job other than her $1,300-a-month mayor post, considered a part-time position.

“Christina Shea is one of the most committed elected mayors that I’ve ever met,” said Assemblywoman Marilyn C. Brewer (R-Newport Beach). “She’s always done a fine job of representing the needs and interests of Irvine.”

Minding Civic Affairs, Including Romance

Shea’s active role in the opposition to an international airport at El Toro has also earned her respect; her peers say she mastered the issue long ago, from proposed flight patterns to decibel levels and residential impact.

“There’s a lot of technical matters and a history that’s very complicated when you’re talking about El Toro,” said Paul Eckles, executive director of the eight-city El Toro Reuse Planning Authority. “Mayor Shea not only has impressive command of the issues but she is an effective spokesperson on them as well. She certainly doesn’t take a back seat in any of it.”

But it is Christina Shea’s other side--the giggly, flirty, “I think it’s neat when the man is the head of the home” side--that has drawn her the most criticism. She takes pains with her hair and makeup, and pores over pictures of herself in various news and county publications.

“At least I look cute in that one,” she said recently, perusing a city bulletin in which she appeared. Minutes later, she is chitchatting to her staff about having three dates with three charming men in the last week--even in the middle of the latest scandal.

And then there was Shea’s very own proposal to make Irvine a more romantic city. She formed the Romance Task Force last year, in response to a Ladies’ Home Journal survey in which Irvine was ranked the fourth best city in America for women. In a separate survey for the most romantic cities, however, Irvine didn’t even make the list.

Shea’s idea to “warm up the city’s heart” and make it more romantic with flowers, banners and chiming clock towers raised eyebrows and made her the subject of several unflattering news stories. The mayor was--and still is--unfazed.

“The press has gone after me on that, but the public hasn’t,” she said. “People love this idea and it took on a life of its own. We aren’t using any city funds for this. We’re having a little fun and we’re beautifying the city. How can that be a bad thing?”

In that sense, Shea is again doing what seems to work best for her: She’s waiting it out. Besides, folks have pretty much forgotten about “the romance thing,” she said, what with the issue of her middle-child’s arrest floating around. And while she is careful to acknowledge that her daughter “did a stupid thing,” Shea has said that the drugs were not for Stephanie but one of her friends. She continues to voice “real concerns” about the way police handled the case.

Her supporters say Shea did what any mother would under the circumstances, and that backing has allowed Shea to hold her ground, despite the tension among council members and accusations from Christensen that she “needs to separate the professionalism from the emotionalism.”

Last week, Christensen announced that he asked the Orange County district attorney’s office to determine whether the mayor broke any laws with her comments; a spokeswoman in the office said no such investigation is underway.

So Shea is now planning to take her daughter to Hawaii in the next few weeks, a trip she said they both need, to take a “deep breath” and forget, for a while, about the mess back home.

“My only mistake in all of this was trusting a friend,” Shea said with a shrug. “I used poor judgment. But I’m a mom before I am the mayor, and I won’t apologize to anyone for that.”