With tongue slightly in cheek, Gualco said attacking a bill en masse also affords lobbyists some insurance if the attack fails.

"If a lobbyist goes back to their CEO or board of directors and says, 'we gave it our best shot,' the board's first question will be, 'Well, did you throw enough resources at it?' And if you say, 'Well, we hired 33 firms to deal with it,' then it's pretty hard for someone to criticize."

Building a small lobbying army is straightforward, if informal.

"It's pretty ad hoc," said Shestek. "We try to get folks together, we'll schedule meetings, feel out who has relationships with who, what committees the bill might be farmed out to and just get a feel for the best way to divide up the work."

Legislators acknowledge it's hard to ignore the din of a lobbying throng, especially on issues as complicated as chemistry.

"No one has the ability to read every single bill, and we're not in these positions long enough, frankly, to become experts on issues," said Assemblyman Dave Jones, D-Sacramento. "And when you hear a lot about something from a lot of different people, it becomes something you are going to pay attention to."

In the case of SB 1313, the most pitched battle so far has occurred in the Assembly Health Committee.

The bill moved relatively easily through the Senate, even picking up some support from Republican legislators, who rarely vote for a Democratic bill that is even remotely controversial.

But as the lobbying coalition grew, SB 1313 encountered tougher sledding in the Assembly. The Health Committee, in fact, already had killed the bill once when it came up for reconsideration in late June.

"They (lobbyists) were everywhere," Corbett said. "They were following people out of the room, and if they saw me talking to (a committee member), they would then gather three or four around the member.

"And at the same time, I was chairing the Senate Judiciary Committee, where we were trying to plow through 76 bills. I was handing the gavel to my vice chairman and saying, 'Take over, I have to run over to work on my toxics bill.' "

The bill was revived when Assemblywoman Mary Salas, D-Chula Vista, announced she would give Corbett a courtesy vote to move the measure to the Assembly floor – a vote that triggered a collective groan and at least one audible expletive from the lobbyists in the hearing room.

In the case of 1713, the lobbying effort has been abetted by a full-page ad in The Bee, paid for by the American Chemistry Council. The ad, which features a photo of an empty shopping cart on a parched desert lake bed, warns "your favorite products may soon disappear" if the bill is passed.

As the Legislature begins its final month of the session and the traditional end-of-session lobbying onslaught intensifies, the fates of both 1313 and 1713 are considered problematical.

"It's going to be daunting," Corbett said. "No matter how many times I go back to a member with information, they are going to have 20 other people going in to say, 'No, it does this,' or 'No, it does this.' "

When a reporter suggested her position was akin to a certain lieutenant colonel's 132 years ago, the senator laughingly swung an imaginary saber above her head and replied, "Yeah, but I don't intend for this to be my last stand."

Call Steve Wiegand, Bee Capitol Bureau, (916) 321-1076.