CALIFORNIA GOVERNOR Gray Davis is now the target of at least two voter recall drives that could bring an abrupt end to his second term, which Davis barely eked out last November. Admittedly, the idea that he might be recalled sounds ludicrous when you first hear it. Voter recalls have proven effective in local referenda--voters in South Gate, a Los Angeles suburb, recently dumped three city officials. But previous recall efforts against Davis (frustrated anti-illegal immigration activists) and his predecessor Pete Wilson (angry state workers) went nowhere fast.

However, these are not ordinary times in California, what with a $35 billion budget deficit, a sluggish economy, and the uncertainty of war. And Davis, to be charitable, is anything but an ordinary governor. In fact, the one extraordinary thing he has achieved is stockpiling a diverse array of political enemies--and surprisingly few loyalists willing to do battle for him. How so? Democratic legislators loathe Davis for his imperious style; lately, they particularly despise him for defying them on tax policy (Davis said no to a Democratic plan to raise the state's vehicle license fee--i.e., car tax--to help close the deficit). Republican legislators likewise have no reservoir of good will, not after Davis soft-pedaled the severity of California's fiscal troubles during last year's election.

Even traditionally Democratic-leaning special interests aren't much of a help. Public employee unions are poised to fight Davis over state-workforce reductions. The California Teachers Association, which Davis unsuccessfully hit up for $1 million during his reelection campaign, is threatening an initiative

Toss in Sacramento's other "usual suspects" in the budget debate--fiscal watchdogs who are anti-tax; advocacy groups who are pro-spending--and Gray Davis is California's version of the "Simpsons'" "Who Shot Mr. Burns?": a town despot staggering around wounded, with the locals cheering on his plight. Notes GOP strategist Dan Schnur: "It takes a lot to get a welfare mom, a soccer mom, and a CEO to agree on anything, but Gray Davis seems to have pulled it off."

So how would a recall campaign hand the term-limited Davis his walking papers?

First, understand that it won't happen overnight. Under state law, recall organizers have up to 160 days to collect and file the 900,000 signatures necessary to trigger a recall. Once the signatures are certified, the state has 80 days to declare a special election. Odds are any referendum on Davis's future won't happen before November.

Second, neither of the two current recall efforts should be mistaken for a silver bullet. One campaign is led by former Republican Assemblyman Howard Kaloogian; the other, by conservative activist Ted Costa, head of People's Advocate (founded by Proposition 13 co-author Paul Gann). They accuse Davis of mismanaging state finances and threatening public safety by proposing cuts in local government funding (they can throw in slacking off on the job: Davis went two years without holding a Cabinet meeting). However, among Sacramento insiders, Kaloogian is dismissed as too partisan; Costa is seen as too much of a bomb-thrower to forge bipartisan support.