Squeals of recognition at 3 a.m., as Francis Coppola closed down the New Wave-punky 9:30 club's danceteria. In tow: His teen son, Roman . . . Whistles at the Racquet Club pool: Dr. Norman Tamarkian, shrink to the toniest Washingtonians, bares his bronzed bosom again, fit and feisty after heart surgery . . . Grumps among the Rejected who got back their checks, and no tickets for the big Second Genesis benefit, Wednesday at the Saudi Embassy. (Had you heard? Mike Deaver and Charles Wick to strum the keyboard. New York's Glorious Foods, newly in town, is doin' the stewin'.) Sold out, darlings. Ahem. Nancy's pet Cause . . . Whoops among snoblobbyists about Bob Gray, head-hunting for a honcho for his spanking new Big Apple office. But squash those rumors. He's not dropping Big City sidekick Tish Baldrige. Ahem again. Mac Baldrige's sister . . . Cheers all 'round for Larry King. (Ear means, of course, the stalky, talky Larry King. Not the hairy "Whorehouse" one. We cheered for him last week.) His new tome, "Larry King by Larry King," has been picked by the Literary Guild; he's gearing up his nightly TV show for September; cheeriest of all, there are murmurs in the wind of a grand reconciliation between Larry and mate Sharon. Silence, now, 'til Wednesday.