Arnold’s army in high gear

Outside the Sutter Club, the site of Arnold Schwarzenegger’s third post-inaugural luncheon, a small crowd gathered around architect Jim Gilliam. “I got a souvenir,” he said, and everyone inched in close to see. “I got the water napkins.”

He opened his inaugural program and inside lay two paper napkins, the three-inch-square kind, known in bartender parlance as “bev naps.” On one of them, in black ballpoint pen, was written, “Governor.” On the other, “Maria.” These very napkins, Gilliam explained, had been prepared to buffer the water glasses of the new governor and his wife. “Neither of them was used, by the way,” he noted, proudly. Next stop, EBay.

About an hour later, at the convention center, Sacramento’s own cover band Hip Service performed for wall-to-wall suits, lobbyists and legislators who, said bartender George Ponce, quite simply had no soul.

“In other years, they drank more wine,” he said. “I don’t think they know what kind of quality they had here.” He offered up a glass from a $40 bottle of one of Francis Ford Coppola’s reds. He shook his head at the crowd: “Very tame.”

Ah, but when Schwarzenegger took the stage, joking about one Chamber of Commerce official’s secret body-building fantasy, and his “tough” mother-in-law, Eunice Shriver, Bush administration staffer Blake Isaacson was overcome with deja vu. Until now, there was only one Republican movie star with that type of magic.

“I haven’t seen that kind of connection since Ronald Reagan,” he said. “People came from the back of the room to the front of the room. When he would go to stage left, they would go to stage left.”

Which brings us to the jelly beans. Or more specifically, the Jelly Bellys, “the original gourmet jelly bean.” They were Reagan’s trademark snack. Until Sunday, when jars of Jelly Bellys appeared as party favors at Schwarzenegger’s Sheraton Grand affair.

Afterward, at the family’s private get-together on the 15th floor of the Hyatt Regency, the Schwarzenegger children pelted each other with the candies.

“Everybody was getting whacked on the head,” said family friend Wanda McDaniel.

Actually, she said, the jelly beans aren’t a Reagan thing. They’re a local thing. There’s a Jelly Belly factory in Fairfield, midway between San Francisco and Sacramento. Okaaay. Then what are we to make of Schwarzenegger’s inaugural speech? “Today is a new day in California,” he said. Are we to assume this is an entirely different kind of day than Reagan’s famous “morning in America” of 1984?

But that’s getting off the point, which is Hollywood movie stars who inspire their own political cults.

It seemed that everywhere during the festivities, someone was speaking of Schwarzenegger with reverence. One supporter identified these folks as “the true believers.” They invariably criticize the Los Angeles Times for its coverage of Schwarzenegger’s alleged indiscretions with women. “Hostility usually gets hostility in return,” one volunteer told a Times reporter, his tone growing slightly hostile.

These true believers always use Schwarzenegger’s first name and are ready with an anecdote to explain why they’re on such familiar terms. He sits and talks to us, they say. He came up the hard way, they say. He’s a great actor, they say.

“I think because he’s a celebrity,” said Santa Monica volunteer Steve Rive, “he’s raised consciousness.”

One thing’s for sure: He’s got our attention.