At 9:03 this morning, Gov. Schwarzenegger merely entered the Robert Frost Auditorium from stage right. Because he led a glamorous life before moving to Sacramento four years ago, his wordless presence alone ignited howls of recognition from hundreds of Middle School and Culver City High School students.
Like any aging celebrity, he drank in the cheers appreciatively.
Because he is Arnold, one of the few first-name stars in the world, he did not have to wear a “My Name Is…” sticker on his lapel.
Model of Fitness
Immaculately attired in a 3-button navy blue blazer, khaki trousers creased to draw blood, fastidiously shined dark brown shoes, light blue shirt, typically open at the collar, the kids did not need an introduction to the square-jawed governor, even if he has been away from the movies for several years.
As he awaited his turn to speak, Mr. Schwarzenegger’s faultless posture made yardsticks jealous all across Culver City.
At 60 years old, America’s favorite bodybuilder from the previous generation and its most popular film action hero of the ‘90s remains a full-fledged star.
Two of a Kind
In the first year of his second term, his legacy is that he is America’s only celebrity governor, the first in any state since Ronald Reagan stepped down 30 years ago.
As the country’s reigning symbol of unassailable physical symmetry, Mr. Schwarzenegger came to Culver City this morning to launch a statewide fitness challenge that can benefit Culver City schools with new equipment and reward successful students with professional gym access and with skiing passes.
Flanked by the two leading faces on the Governor’s Council on Physical Fitness and Sports, Mr. Schwarzenegger reeled off a 7-minute exhortation to the assembled students to plunge, with vigor, into a month-long competition.
Just Shmoozing
As casually as if he and his audience were in adjoining plush chairs, the governor, a father of four, without sounding paternal or as if he were lecturing, urged the students to be pointedly active every day.
Hearkening back to his childhood days in Austria, where exercise competed with breathing for the most important pastime, Mr. Schwarzenegger stressed how reflexively easy and fulfilling it is to participate in a favorite action every day — as long as you are moving, not vegetating on the television-watching couch.
Exercise does not mean doing something boring, he said. It can be nearly any activity you choose, as benign as walking the dog, as long as you do it 30 to 60 minutes every other day at the minimum.
‘It Isn’t Difficult’
Fitness guru Jake Steinfeld, the Chair of the Governor’s Council, bookended Mr. Schwarzenegger’s presentation, outlining the program and reeling off a list of prizes while emphasizing how natural and beneficial the commitment for just an hour can be.
School District Supt. Dr. Myrna Rivera Cote explained how Gov. Schwarzenegger’s Culver City appearance developed. Kenny Rogers, Executive Director of the Governor’s Council, called Jerry Kosch, the Middle School principal, last week with the program suggestion. Mr. Kosch sought the opinion of Dr. Cote. She emailed Alexander Kim, the School District’s contact in the governor’s office, with the succinct message that “We want this.”
Mr. Kosch received confirmation of today’s assembly last Friday evening, and an upbeat, inclusive program was born.
Two Board Members
School Board members Scott Zeidman and Dr. Jessica Beagles-Roos were present and visible along with city Planning Commissioner Marcus Tiggs.
Mr. Zeidman was fulfilling a campaign promise to maintain a high and constant profile and school community events.
The mother of twin all-star swimmers, Dr. Beagles-Roos had a particular interest in the fitness program that Mr. Schwarzenegger sketched out.
“Six years ago when I ran for office,” she said, “one of my campaign promises was to bring back P.E. teachers to elementary schools. They had been gone about 10 years. The restoration started the following September, and the situation has been improving ever since.”
A Star to the End
At the end of the fast-paced 25-minute program, a clique of girls near the top of the Frost Auditorium called out in ringing unison, “We love you, Arnold.”
