Hizzoner the Ceo L.a.'s New Mayor Is a Manager in The

By JORDAN BONFANTE LOS ANGELES

Richard Riordan has never met Ross Perot. His New York-edged voice sounds nothing like a Texas drawl. And where he resides, among the mansions of Brentwood, they think "clean out the barn" must be a line from a Beverly Hillbillies rerun. Still, when a deft Los Angeles Times cartoonist drew him with jug ears and labeled him "H. Ross Riordan," the subject of the caricature recalls with a smile, he was not only amused but flattered: "I felt I'd arrived."

Many citizens of Los Angeles felt as strongly last week that a Perot clone had arrived in city hall. Immediately after conservative millionaire Riordan won his first election by defeating liberal city councilman Michael Woo 54% to 46%, he was already displaying a get-under-the-hood-and fix-it itchiness. He flew to Sacramento to start hammering state politicians for help in reducing the city's budget deficit, which may reach $500 million this year. He declared he would solve problems by using "simple management techniques," and he did not apologize for pouring $6 million of his own money into a campaign of unprecedented extravagance. Over and over he boasted about being an outsider. "The meaning of my election," he exulted, "is that people not only in L.A. but throughout the country are saying, 'We don't want any more business as usual.' "

Riordan, 63, is the city's first new mayor in 20 years, succeeding the Democratic fixture, Tom Bradley, who is retiring after five terms. Riordan represents a strong turn toward the moderate Republican right, the result of a backlash against last year's traumatic riots and the city's relentless crime. He played the law-and-order angle to the hilt, arguing that jobs too depend on safe streets because "no business wants to come into a war zone."

Yet Riordan brings a new governing equation to the country's most diverse city. Bradley's liberal, biracial coalition of suburban whites and inner-city blacks has been replaced by a surprisingly multi-ethnic conservative coalition. While Riordan's strongest support came from the largely white San Fernando Valley, he won slices of minority votes as well. In some mixed central-city districts where Bradley used to count on more than 90%, Riordan won 40% of Latinos, 20% of blacks and even a third of Asians.

More broadly still, some politicians believe the Los Angeles election foreshadows the twilight of liberal mayors. Says Eric Schockman, a University of Southern California political scientist: "The end of the economic growth machine in urban areas 2 1/2 years ago brought joblessness, escalating crime because you could no longer afford to fight it, and now a shift in big urban power structures. L.A. is one of the dominoes along the way." Schockman foresees a new kind of leadership aimed at transcending ethnic and economic divisions and "saving us from ourselves."

On Election Day, Riordan, wearing a yellow jersey and crash helmet, rested on his racing bike in a eucalyptus-shaded lane near his Spanish-stucco mansion. He lives alone because his three daughters are grown and he is separated from his second wife. ("Did you see Michael Ovitz go by before?" he asked proudly. "He lives around the corner. So does Meryl Streep, and Michelle Pfeiffer.") Riordan said he intends to form an administration not of "technocrats," a breed he abhors, but of "doers and implementers." However, he said, "I am not such an amateur that I'm going to ignore the political side, because if you try to implement things over the dead body of the politicians, they're going to eat you alive."

Because his first priority is "safety, safety and safety," Riordan said, he plans to beef up the 7,800-member police force immediately with overtime pay, the transfer of desk officers to patrol, and more reservists. The 3,000 additional officers he has promised later will be paid for by streamlining other city departments, leasing the airport and privatizing some services. No new taxes, he vows, because Los Angeles "has already taxed itself out of the competition for new business."

Despite his pragmatism, Riordan has a strong philosophical bent. A Jesuit- educated Irish Catholic reared in New Rochelle, New York, he studied under French philosopher Jacques Maritain at Princeton. Riordan still adorns his speech with quotations from St. Ignatius and G.K. Chesterton. He has a Midas touch as well. After graduating from the University of Michigan Law School, he moved to Los Angeles in 1956 and parlayed his $80,000 inheritance into a ) stock-market fortune. Today, after starting his own law firm and plunging into a 20-year succession of venture-capital deals, he is worth $100 million.

During the campaign, Woo made much of Riordan's former membership in a restricted Los Angeles country club, his slashing of jobs at companies he downsized, and three alcohol-related arrests in his distant past. Riordan defenders, however, point to his proved compassion. "The millions of dollars he's contributed to schools and the poor over the years could not have been a calculation," admitted state senator Art Torres, a Woo ally. "Dick Riordan has heart." Los Angeles has to hope it's a big one. The fractured city, whose citizens still grimace at the recollection of that videotaped beating and those raging fires, needs a healer as well as a CEO.