"I Love This Job!"

He gave up a $500,000 annual income as an influential Washington lawyer --an insider among insiders--to plead the cause of the poor and downtrodden in Washington's most frustrating Cabinet post, at a salary of $66,000. Yet he enjoys his official chauffeur-driven car, insists on flying cross-country first class, lives in a $182,000 house. And when he watches the Washington Redskins, he sits in the box beside Owner Edward Bennett Williams.

He can be abrasive and bumptious, often irritating Capitol Hill Pooh-Bahs, and some White House aides, whose help he needs most. Yet a smile usually plays at the edges of his mouth, and his deep laughter is disarming. If he lacks compassion for his overworked aides, cursing their failures, they at least know he pushes himself even harder. And only a few cynical civil servants claim that his passion for publicity shows that a desire for self-promotion overrides his genuine concern for society's vulnerable children, the aged and the handicapped, whom his department is pledged to help.

Grandson of a Naples sailor and son of an IBM executive, Joseph Anthony Califano Jr., 47, is delighted that he has one of the toughest challenges in Washington. Says he: "I love this job! I think it is the greatest job in the Government. We're at the frontier of most of the social and human issues that government touches in a democracy. I mean, this is where it's at."

A nervous, fidgety man, not really short (5 ft. 10 in.), but round (182 Ibs.), Califano was linked by capital fashion watchers with the worst-dressed men in Washington. He wears blue button-down shirts, narrow ties and baggy pants. They sag because he recently weighed as much as 195 Ibs.--a heft reached when, observing his own well-publicized warnings against smoking, he stopped inhaling three packs of cigarettes a day. Instead, he began eating four daily meals and ballooned. Now on a diet, backed by a 45-min. noon-hour jog around the Mall, he has ignored his own department's cautions about saccharin. He often drinks Tab at lunch. And he is a shade sensitive about the tendency of cartoonists to exaggerate his double chin.

Because of his rambunctious style, Califano is a tempting target for nicknames. He has been called "Crazy Califano," "Mad, Mad Joe," "the Dynamo".and "the Boy Earthquake." He has also been described as "a loose cannon," and, contrarily, "a torpedo--point him in one direction and he goes." When the tobacco lobby, outraged by Califano's drive to keep young people from smoking, printed bumper stickers proclaiming, CALIFANO IS DANGEROUS TO MY HEALTH, some of the Secretary's subordinates proudly pasted them on their office walls.

Califano reaches his office by 7 a.m. If others are not at work by 8 a.m., they may get calls at home from him demanding action on something he has read in the morning newspapers or in HEW's "green sheet" of clippings. But he has attracted some good, young talent to HEW. Boasts the boss: "We have the best people who have ever been in this department--and it shows."

A graduate of Holy Cross and Harvard Law, Califano worked on tax and corporate legal problems as a Wall Street lawyer before firing off a presumptuous letter in 1961 seeking a job from Cyrus Vance, then Secretary Robert McNamara's general counsel at the Defense Department. He became a Vance assistant and was spotted by McNamara. At 29, Califano was made a general Pentagon troubleshooter. In 1965 Lyndon Johnson lured Califano away to become his own special assistant. Ensconced in the White House and loving every minute of it, Califano helped shape many of the Great Society programs that he is now in charge of executing.

Recalls L.B.J. Crony Jim Rowe: "He was rough and he was tough and he was ambitious as hell." Says Jack Valenti, a former Johnson aide: "Joe recognized that the Government is a great shaggy beast that sometimes hunkers down in the middle of the roadway. You have to kick it in the ass once in a while or it gets lethargic."

That footloose style has brought Califano some bad moments at the White House. When Jody Powell, the President's press secretary, first heard of Califano's antismoking crusade, sure to anger the tobacco-growing states, the Georgian exploded: "That son of a bitch! We told him not to do that." Califano denies he ever got such instructions and says he discussed his plan with the President. And despite the predictably strong reaction, especially in North Carolina, Carter reassured the Secretary: "You're on the right track." Indeed, Carter has consistently supported his embattled Cabinet officer.

Califano's few critics at the White House chuckled when the Secretary was caught placing a 402-word notice in the Federal Register for what amounted to a departmental chef but which camouflaged the fact that the main duty would be cooking. Although most departments hire such help for VIP business lunches, Califano's notice sought an "extremely confidential, personal assistant."

The Secretary has a solid relationship at the White House with Stu Eizenstat, domestic affairs adviser, whose start in Government was also on L.B.J.'s staff. Eizenstat is the White House aide most often involved in HEW's activities. Says he: "We both have similar philosophies and goals. It is impossible not to like Joe. He is a fighter for the things he believes in." Even Peter Bourne, Carter's top adviser on health matters, who has had some clashes with Califano, concedes: "The White House staff has sort of a love-hate relationship with him. He can drive you up the wall and yet be increasingly impressive at the same time."

Califano has antagonized some key Democrats in Congress. Indiana's John Brademas, majority whip in the House and chairman of the Select Education Subcommittee, was incensed when Califano pushed legislation for an HEW reorganization plan without consulting him first. He accused Califano of practicing "the same damn arrogance, the Nixon arrogance of power." Brademas now says: "I know he rides roughshod, but I think he is well motivated."

These days Califano even draws praise from James Sammons, executive vice president of the American Medical Association, who is opposed to HEW's national health insurance plan. Says Sammons: "I've come to respect him as a talented, intelligent administrator. Sure, we've had disagreements--not on the goals of providing quality medical care but on how to get there."

Humorist Art Buchwald, one of Califano's closest Washington friends, claims that the Secretary is as ferociously competitive at play as he is at work. "He is very untrustworthy on the tennis courts," says Buchwald. "He calls every ball out that's in and every ball in that's out. He always likes to win."

With Buchwald, Washington Post Executive Editor Ben Bradlee and Lawyer Williams, Califano attends Redskin games, lunches at Sans Souci, and the four play elaborate jokes on each other. Williams and Buchwald, for example, announced to an alumni group at Holy Cross that Califano intended to make a large gift to the college--and the audience rose and applauded. The school's president telegraphed Califano "a blessing" for his generous gift. Califano, says Buchwald, was "horrified" upon getting the wire. Unintimidated, he did not increase his usual annual donation.

On weekdays Califano normally works twelve hours or more, and on Saurdays ten. On Sundays he usually manages to play tennis (he is "avid, but pretty terrible," an acquaintance claims), attend Washington's Holy Trinity Church and have brunch with his family at Doc Dalinsky's, a trendy Georgetown pharmacy. His wife Trudy, who still smokes regularly despite her husband's crusade, is a budding artist whose paintings and drawings help decorate their Cleveland Park home. Their children--Mark, 15, Joseph, 14, and Claudia, 7--are kept well out of the limelight. The Califanos own a house on Cape Cod, where they spend a month each summer. They rent it out at a rapidly rising rate. Last year the fee was $2,500 a month; this year Califano asked $5,000.

Despite his obvious zeal for his job, Califano has not been able to stop rumors that he may seek a Senate seat soon, perhaps from New York, or that he is even angling to get in position for a run as a member of a Mondale-Califano ticket in 1984, unlikely as that prospect may now seem. Whatever he does, Califano is certain to be gung-ho about it. Looking back on his career, he recalls his L.BJ. days in the same way he now regards his HEW post. Says he: "I thought the Great Society was terrific. It was the greatest job I had ever had in my life. I am the alltime enthusiast."

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