May 28, 2008 | 11:26 AM
Category:
News
I've always been interested in how public officials relate to the public, that is, I'm curious about their interactions with private citizens -- especially in everyday, non-campaign settings. In recent years I've witnessed several such encounters, and have been a participant in a couple of them, both involving Calfiornia governors.
Just before he was recalled, my cousins club had a quirky run-in with then-Governor Gray Davis. It was in the patio of a restaurant in Beverly Hills. At the time, the state was in the midst of an "energy crisis" that was driving up electricity rates. Davis was getting a large share of the blame for this, though as it turned out energy giant Enron and a slew of other energy companies, speculators and even a few nasty politicos were given final responsibility for cooking up the disaster.
Anyway, my family group was sitting in the restaurant's patio early that summer evening. It was past twilight, but all of the outdoor lighting was turned off to conserve energy. During our dinner, Governor Davis and a small security detail walked through the patio to the take-out counter. After a few minutes, Davis and his entourage returned. By now it was pretty dark in that patio. As they approached our tables on their way out, I called out, "Say Governor, can't you do something about the lighting in this place?"
In just a beat, Davis replied, "Why don't you try candles? It's more romantic."
Everybody laughed, and we snapped a few pictures. I must admit that my opinion of Davis as a humorless political animal changed that night. It takes someone with a sense of humor, and perhaps humility, to handle a friendly barb the way he did. With his political career in jeopardy, Davis was amazingly relaxed and comfortable among strangers in public -- though I'm sure he figured that some of them wanted him recalled.
I was thinking of that incident after a brief meeting with current Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger. Again, the scene was a restaurant, or rather the parking lot of a restaurant. We were on vacation, and I was playing with a new video camera. When I got out of the car, I had the camera in hand. I looked up and there, 15 feet in front of me was the Governator himself. He was chatting with the driver of a fancy new sportscar, and I could hear that he was very impressed with the car's performance. While he was involved in conversation, a line of cars waiting to get into the lot had backed up into the street. Not one to miss an opportunity, I turned on the camera and walked over to him.
While continuing to shoot, I introduced myself and my son. Brief handshakes and then Arnold turned away. One of the plainclothes officers approached me.
"Hey, that's enough. You've got enough shots. Can't you see he's having a private conversation?" With my camera still running, I reminded the officer -- as if he needed reminding -- that a governor is a public figure and this was a public place.
"Right," he answered, "but how would you like it if you were out for a meal, having a private conversation, and someone tried to interrupt you?"
"But I'm not a public figure, and he's an elected official," I said. I should have added, "Besides, he's not eating a meal, he's walking through a parking lot."
In very lay terms, it's well established that a public official (or public figure, for that matter) cannot expect the same right to privacy as a private citizen. Like it or not, that's why news crews and pushy reporters don't get thrown into the jug whenever they approach a politician -- even when that politician wants to be left alone. To be fair, in this encounter I did not identify myself as a journalist. To the Governor and his security men I was a private citizen; a member of the public. Sometimes the public gets the same brusque treatment as reporters.
Schwarzenegger is a very public figure. As an actor he must have been used to having the public approach him. From what I understand, he's a personable fellow. As Governor, his security team is doing a darned good job of keeping the public at arm's length. I realize that his personal safety is always an issue. Yet as an elected official, the Governor must accept the fact that people in public will toss him questions, and that not every conversation will be about cars.
After leaving the restaurant, I remembered that when I met Davis he was in the middle of a crisis that, whether real or manufactured, eventually brought him down. Nevertheless, he didn't seem too bitter at the time, at least not in public. And here, just a few minutes earlier, I met the guy who succeeded him, and now is dealing with a huge budget mess -- a very real crisis of his own. As this drama evolves, it will be interesting to see how the Governor handles the pressure in a public setting. That is, if anyone gets close enough to document it.