Full text of "PLAYBOY"
ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN
PLAYBOY-
IN THIS ISSUE: ALL ABOUT THE PLAYBOY KEY CLUB
Select the best in popular albums from this
598
ANY FIVE
if you agree to buy six additional
albums within twelve months from
THE RCAVICTOR POPULAR ALBUM CLUB
T uiis Popular Album Club trial mem-
bership offers you the finest stereo
or hi-fi music being recorded today —
for far less money than you would
normally pay.
You save up to 40% with this intro-
ductory offer alone. After the trial
membership, if you continue, you will
save about one third of the тапи ѓа
turer's nationally advertised price
throi the Club’s Dividend Album
Plan. This plan lets you choose a free
regular L.P. or stereo album ( depend-
ing on which division you are in) with
every two you buy from the Club.
Every month you are offered a wide
variety of albums (up to 200 a year).
One will be singled out as the album-
of-the-month. If you want it, you do
nothing; it will come to you automati-
cally. If you prefer an alternate — or
nothing at all — simply state your
wishes on a form always provided. For
regular L.P. albums you will pay the
nationally advertised price — usually
$3.98, at limes $4.98; for stereo al-
bums you will pay the nationally ad-
vertised price of $1.98, at times $5.98
(plusin all cases—a small charge for
postage and handling).
ALL ALBUMS ARE 12-INCH 33% R.P. M.
1812 == |Snorwens sine
OVERTURE | thc, mm Winter
Neen сі
dore Me
That Lucky Old
hero.
MORTON БОШО; 227. JAMES MICH-
SA arate а Бао. ENER'S FAVORIT!
MUSIC OF Hawan
13 Hawaiian and Pol
226. Sonic blockbuster
of the hi-fi age! Military
cannons und gong roars
plus magnificent massed
strings and brass.
219. им REEVES:
SONGS TO WARM
THE HEART. Varied
nud vocal program by
country-pop star. Till
the End of the World,
Sameday. A Foo! Such
ALD оке.
вз. DENNIS FAR-
NOW'S ORCHESTRA:
THE ENCHANTEO
5. Dreamy
fore with
nging strings.
воћа monde. dating
eater Star Dats By
the Sleepy Lagoon. While
We're Voung, Баа
brass) v Too
Beautiful, 1 Hear а
Rhapsody. ete.
73. RALPH FLANA-
GAN IN нї FL Fresh
remakes of hani
gest hits: Hot Todly,
My Hero, 10 others
45. MELACHRINO:
STRAUSS WALTZES.
Mood master meets
waltz muster. Lu:
danceable versions
The Blue Dan
Artis" Life, 10
Granada,
“ame Closer to Ме,
The Peanut Vendor, etc
16. TCHAIKOVSKY :
THE NUTCRACKER
Excerpts) BOSTON
POPS Arthur Fiedler
Waltz ofthe
Flowers, other high-
Tights from this spar-
Ming masterpiece.
m
AMES BROTHERS
SING FAMOUS HITS
Е FAMOUS QUARTETS
5e
MUO WINTERRALTEN ORCH.
17. LENA HORNE AT
THE WALDORF-
ASTORIA.
recording. in
12 hurmony hits: Paper | cludes Dey n Duy
Dell, Love ls a Many. | Out! Also saucy special
Spleniored Thing, To | show material and
Each His Oun, ete swinging standards.
228. BROTHER OAVE.
GARONER: REJOICE,
DEAR MEARTS. А
best-seller! Hilarious
Leatwik-biblical ph rase-
ology in cornpone
accents. Jack Paar TV
guest. Monaural only.
Rodgers
i hm м
hit. 13 hardy perennials. | hagra. guests, et
M. Gaynor, R. Шегі. | ^ how!
40,HOMERSJETHRO:
LIFE CAN DE MIS-
ERABLE. Wacky ban
chin
Songs, special materia
On Tonesome Ме. Il
more hiuch getters
41. GUCKENHEIMER
SOUR KRAUT BAND:
MUSIC FOR мон-
THINKERS. Laugh a
second! Kraut-sour Ger-
тап band plays (7
dance album, already a
seller! Night Train,
Sleep Walk, One Mint
Julep, Hot Toddy. eic.
uh Caan! fore
Soi and ed T
The Padi The Chant
p
кз. Jaton
Pop Stappe
Па
Dance, Хает
land, Hlightof the Bum-
еее, Fathers,
MUSICALLY ШШШ
MAD
ERNIE
79. меш SEDAKA.
Teen-age singer
Ape, Supid
The Diary, othecs
213. ON TOUR WITH
THE NEW GLENN
MILLER ORCHES-
TRA. For first time
in hi h, new Miller hand
Hays В original Miller
arrangements — Kala
тагоо. Реа, ete.
also 4 new ones.
Hilarious mu:
. caricature plu
ry by Henry
Morgan. Cunarurk Suite:
Ап, of Course; more,
for
only
5 3
Music
from
MR LUCKY j
cor ff |
HENRY MANCINI
220. Bestselling mod-
ern-jizzalhumfrom NBC.
211. Driving, irrist-
215. Long-awnited ne
Paps recordings of the
Rhapsody, plun American
in Paris, karl Wild.
Spectacular new acum
"62 JENETIE
ve
9. Opereta йт
remate
ү
Rosalie, Wanting You
PIANO ROLLE
OlSCOVERIES
эт. Gershwin plays his
она Kha pudy ta Blue in
ІП Alen уймшра piana
by” Fats Waller
Zee Confrey. өші others
music from
XPETER
2. Hottest album of year!
All-star modern “mood
series, Fallout’, more
203.
eic) sequel to m
honored disc of recen
years. Moremodern-jazz.
кетші;
ern-juzzalbum from TV!
conducted by
Scored,
Ski
Nus!
‘Areally pood.
anys High бену
зз. BING снов
ROSEMARY CLOO-
Started, Hindustan, eic.
96. MORTON GOULO:
COFFEE TIME. Ko
Lore.
Mucho, Solitude, Man
13. FRANKIE CARLES
37 FAVORITES FOR
OANCING.
Fuelleya of fox trots,
waltzes, lindys, by
Porter, К,
Hey There, ЕМ,
оо Youn
32, в
THE
Leilani
light С
вв. DON GIBSON:
NO ONE STANOS
Standards ріш
Blue Tango.
MORE мисс
тту Mancini,
THE MUSIC
5. Louis Blues, Г
You Under My Skin,
gin the Beguine, etc
FANCY MEET.
YOU HERE.
210. 12 Yankecland
arde go cha cha!
Paper Doll, Mashatia
1f You Knew Susie. Ciri-
Шай, Isle of Capri, et.
MARJORIE ®
MEINERT
ИТЕ 2
пи Age
ina, 1 Can't Gel
ic instrumental
г, lushly
e Man 1
[psv
Laura.
Dane
img delight.
217. Organ— with и dif-
Terence! Dazzling and
sensitive гези
Faris" hits: Lore Paris,
Aprilin Pari
TEAR OUT THIS
POSTAGE-FREE CARD
it in and тай it today.
You'll receive your five
albums by return mail.
EMINISCE АТ
HAMMONO
224, Heat ling album
Ly the new vocal enaa-
Tide. Sweet | silat The’ Lady
i. Jalousie, Moon. | yom! Тіс Lady
жемай. 7 olere. | Hr уы Sell ete,
Балалы анын
E
ab dal i teal Д/ЮТОНУ
Vel MASA
3 Mowat one
зов. ғат итик
Teste tnd Shale
Star Dust, As Time Goes | 7. Stunning new record-
ne Date Maer CHEN
eet Daddy, Bock Tuae
Capea ow sre тесе репа галаа
а Ey Michand Rae
up-to-date list of RCAVICTOR best-sellers
EITHER STEREO
or REGULAR L.P.
91. VICTORY AT SEA,
VOL 2. B more вес:
tions from Richard
V score.
booklet.
jhotos, Robert Russell
lennett conducte.
3. BELAFONTE
Sinos THE BLUES.
Blues types, rhythm
Backing. One for Му
Baby, 1 Love Her So,
Losing Hand, God Bless
the Child.
23. TITO PUENTE:
DANCING UNDER
LATIN SKIES. Cia-
cha versions of top
Latin tunes. Frene
Ferfidia, Brazil (samb
Yours, Tampico, Ch
tanooga Choo Choo,
as. сос: GRANT:
TORCH TIME. My
Man, Youngapd Fiol
hey Soy It's Wonderful,
Vu peaked,
The Thrill Is Gene, Sum-
mertime, more,
224. VAN CLIBURN-
RACHMANINOFF
CONCERTO NO. 3.
ров
Carnegie Hall concert
Richly melodic master-
piece!
216. BANK SNOW
SINGS JIMMIE
RODGERS SONGS.
Presont-day mur salutes
the late “Father of
Country Music.” To-
cludes euch Rodgers
hita as Any Old Time.
Moonlight and Skies,
The One Rose, Blue
Yodel #10, 8 others,
90. CREW-CUTS*
SURPRISE PACK-
AGE. Crack quartet, 1
many-mooded
zy River, J'attendrai,
ine, That's Му Desire,
кел the Soints Go
Marching In, elc.
23. САЙТЕ PARI-
SIENNE: BOSTON
POPS. Fiedler cond
ing. The lost word in
performance!
Also included: Сауле
Ballet Suite excerpt
58. CHET ATKINS IN
HOLLYWOOD. Ном:
ing, many-mooded
guitar plus rich, warm
Strings. Estrellita, The
Three Bells, Grrensleere,
12 in all
24. MELACHRINO
STRINGS: MUSIC
For DINING. 12
faverites and lii
эке. September Song,
Warsaw. Concerto,
Diae, Tenderly, Tos
Young, Charmaine,
58. ROBERT SHAW
CHORALE: DEEP.
RIVER AND OTHER
'SPIRITUALS. 16 time-
225. Marry with the
Belafonte Folk Singers.
11 spirituals—moving,
tender, sometimes exu-
Бегшийу rh
еч produe-
tion of Kern-Hammer.
stein classicotars Howard
Ked, Gogi Grant and
5. All-time bestselling
sien bus ty the
extraordinary piani
Whe took Moscow and
the world by storm.
та, 12 shimmering
waltzes, Charmaine,
Benoa dines Mone
ries, Together, Girl Му
Dreams, Would You?
ва. Exciting, c:
African rhythm
themes,
222 16 splendidly suo;
Foster classics, 10-page
songbook with words and
music Beautiful Dreamer,
Old Black Joe. Sing slong!
223.RALPHHUNTER
CHOIR: A GILBERT а
SULLIVAN SONG
BOOK. Delightful
choral versions of 18
favorites. Includes В.
vong hooks with lyrics
Extraordinary" — High
Fidelity.
230. THE JOHNSON
FAMILY SINGERS
Sina Hymns. Бс
‘mous gospel group,
үйе е of i
andsome 2t pageso
book Whet a Friend
We Have in Jesus, Г
Love to Tell the Story.
Hock of Ages. et
34. RALPH HUNTER
CHOIR: THE WILD
mosphere
Dilferent! Red River
Valleys Rye Whiskey
Old Chisholm Trail ee:
вв. JOHNNY VAO-
NAL'S ORCHESTRA:
CAREFREE POLKAS
Adosea happy hepa and
valises. Pass [ш Dan?
Polka. Laughing Sailor,
Ginger, Polka, Mando-
[ла Waltz and many
others.
вз. EDDY ARNOLD:
HAVE GUITAR, WILL
TRAVEL. Singalome
PAGS р str.
entucky Bate, Idaho,
Georgia on My Mind,
Carolina inthe Morning.
Indiana, ctc
за.
MORTON
Ym-
SION, 17 blazing, su-
ТЫМ sonic, marches
including B by S
(Stars and Stripes For-
ever, Thunderer, El
Capitan, ete). A by
Goldman (On the Mall),
Harley's National Em
Mem, otber peme.
95. BALLET ES-
PAROL: XIMENEZ
VARGAS. Exot
ety with goitare,eingé
enstanels, heel-clicking
blazing excitement, ih
could be the moet thrill-
ing famenco record of
т
етай.
are Байга
Billboard.
26. PERRY como:
WHEN YOU COME
TO THE END OF THE
warmly sung
i al попа
Wes Gor the Whole
World in His Hands
Whither Thou Сеет,
Scarlet Ribbons.
53. MUSIC FOR
BANG, BaaROOM &
HARP. Stereo version
a top seller. Dick
оту" percussion
group beats өші provoc-
alivemusicon t lean 45
different instruments!
27. THE THREE
Suns: LOVE IN THE
ArTERNOON. 12
dance mood specials by
Tamed trio plu strings
Т Get By, Tm in the
Mood for Love, 10 more,
TWILIGHT
MEMORIE:
, freshly rec
hi Gand stereo! 7%
Time, Don't Take Your
Love from Ме, etc.
Leilani,
Wedding Song, etc.
100, Two superstars
fender 12 Gershwin
Treasures in fresh, mod.
‘cen manner. А current
Bestseller.
202. Soundtrack record-
from late tenor' Inst
film. Come Prima, Vesti
Та giubba, O sole mio,
Schubert's Ave Maria.
ever, stercopho
designed to be
Swing mr aaan
VAUGHN
MONROE (¥:
өэ. Hin biggest hito re-
recorded in hi б. There,
"re Said It Again; Riders
їп the Sky; Racing with
the Moon; Ballerina; ete.
IMPORTANT-PLEASE NOTE
Regular (monaural) long-playing
albums can be played on stereo-
phonic phonographs; in fact, they
will sound better than ever. How-
STEREOPHONIC EQUIPMENT.
10. MARIO LANZA:
MARIO! Lanza st h
greatest—12 Italian
Norites: Funieuli* Funi-
cula*, Santa Lucia,
Meri Mari, Voce "e
notte, Dicitencello
зо. HIGHLAND PAG-
EANTRY. Regimental
band of the Маск
Watch. Colorful bag-
pes and drums in
Lauder medley.
Fiedler conducting
15 strotting marcher
by diverse compone
‘alone! Bogey, 76 Tro
bones, Marchof the To
Yankee Doodle, Dixi
71. NORMAN LEY-
DEN'S ORCHESTRA:
MUSIC FOR ABACK-
YARD BARBECUE.
T3party-perkers. Jacket
Tints recipe. Heart of
Му Heart, Beer Barre.
Tola, баса Adeline.
201. HUGO WINTER-
HALTER: WISH YOU
WERE HERE. Dreamy
romantic, ultra hi f!
Lush, colorful arches
tril versions of Around
the World, Paris in the
Spring, On e Slow Bost
то China (with chorus),
Moonlight in. Vermont,
Sentimental Journey.
‘Autumn in New York, б
85. HENRI RENE:
COMPULSION TO
SWING. The dancing-
Tistening surprise paek-
npe of the year. $
beat, modern sound.
Baubles, Bangles and
Beads, etc.
52. THE MIGHTY
WURLIFZER ORGAN.
Leonard Leigh plays 24
favorites of Roaring
"fente on giant këte
enic pipe organ. Four
Тау eren, Bye Буе
Blacltird, eic-
nic albums are
played ONLY ON
94. JAN PEERCE IN
TAS VEGAS. Great ten-
ere favorie, pop ар
ECC ын
1 Believe, September
‘Song, Grannda, With-
out d Song, ete-
эт, THE TOUCH оғ
Foie |
Simmering.
Troes, it of Yes
Ша Core he
Waterfront.
NATIONALLY ADVERTISED
PRICES TOTAL UP ТО $29.90
COLLECTOR'S ITEMS
MODERN AND VINTAGE
JAZZ-*SWING* VOCAL
(Regular L. P. Only)
"These are the incomparable origi-
nals. However, RCAViCrORengineere
have improved the sound and sur-
faces to enhance your enjoyment.
THE DUKES ==?
OF DIXIELAND
Lullaby of Birdland,
img Im, Tiger Rag.
Learning the Blues. 3
Plenty, etc.
[eios co
‘GOLDEN RECORDS
4
124. 14 of Perry
millzorcecllers pince
1945. Prisoncrof Lot
Till the End of Time.
Temptation, Round
and Round, ete.
n AN Shook Up,
Heartbreak Hotel,
Don't Be Cruel, Лой
5.
145. fa the Mood,
Moonlight. Serenad
ааа Tuaid.
unction, String o)
Pearls, Pennsylvania
6-5000, six others.
The Prisoner's Song,
Caravan, 9 others.
зав. Wi
Stafford,
елегі; Nightmare
(heme), Temptation,
the Derk
Never
Opus No. 1, etc.
ҒА
Г
AND HIS ORCHESTRA
232. His 1939-40
hits, Cherokee, Red-
skin Rumbo, Pomp-
we GOLDEN ace OF |
[BENNY GOODMAN
192. Original h
wih Krupa, James
Бонг Я
ete. Sing Sing Sing
Don't Le That Way.
toa, Turnpike, Night
аға Doy, others.
PLAYBOY
Incomparable multi-record sets...are
(NOTE: THEIR NATIONALLY ADVERTISED PRICES RANGE FROM $21.98 UP TO $41.98)
ІМ A SHORT TRIAL MEMBERSHIP .. .
THE RCA VICTOR SOCIETY OF GREAT MUSIC
OFFERS YOU
ANY SET FOR $4.98
IF YOU WILL AGREE TO BUY SIX ADDITIONAL 12-INCH DISCS DURING THE NEXT YEAR
ALL AVAILABLE IN STEREO UNLESS OTHERWISE INDICATED
A SEVEN-RECORD SET
Not available in stereo
The Nine Beethoven Symphonies
Conducted by
ARTURO TOSCANINI
A SEVEN-RECORD SET
Eight Great Symphonies
Performed by the
BOSTON SYMPHONY ORCHESTRA
CHARLES MUNCH and PIERRE MONTEUX, Conductors
BEETHOVEN: Symphony No. 3 BRAHMS: Symphony No. 4
(Eroica)
MENDELSSOHN: Symphony
No. 4 (Italian)
MENDELSSOHN: Symphony
No. 5 (Reformation) TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony
BRAHMS: Symphony No. 1 No. 6 (Pathétique)
Regular L. P. $34.98 « Stereo $41.98
FRANCK: Symphony inD minor
TCHAIKOVSKY: Symphony
No. 5
THE BASIC IDEA: SYSTEMATIC COLLECTION. UNDER GUIDANCE
ME MUSIC-LOVERs certainly intend to build up a truly герге-
sentative record library, but, unfortunately, almost always
they are haphazard in carrying out this aspiration. Systematic
collection not only means that they ultimately assure themselves
of a record library of which they can be proud, but that they can
do so at an IMMENSE SAVING.
The one-year membership offer made here is a dramatic demon-
stration, In the first year it can represent a saving of AS MUCH
AS 40% over the manufacturer's nationally advertised prices.
After purchasing the six additional records called for in this
trial membership, members who continue can build up their record
libraries at almost a ONE-THIRD SAVING through the Club’s
Record-Dividend plan; that is, for every two records purchased
(from а group of at least 100 made available annually by the
Socicty) members receive a third ксл Victor Red Seal record FREE.
HOW THE SOCIETY OPERATES
EZ month three or more 12-inch 333 R.P.M. nca Vicror Red
Seal records are announced to members. One is singled out as
the record-of-the-month and, unless the Society is otherwise in-
structed (on a simple form always provided), this record is sent.
If the member does not want the work he may specify an alter-
nate, or instruct the Society to send him nothing. For every record
members pay only $4.98 — for stereo $5.98 — the manufacturer's.
nationally advertised price. (A small charge for postage and
handling is added.)
THE RCA VICTOR SOCIETY OF GREAT MUSIC • c/o Book-of-the-Month Club, Inc. * 345 Hudson Street, New York 14, N. Y.
PLAYBOY, AUGUST. 1960, VOL. 7, но. в. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY нык PUBLISHING Co.
ST., CHICAGO M, HL. SECORO CLASS POSTAGE PAID AT CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. SURSCRIP
FOR ONE YEAR.
апу missing from your record library?
A FOUR-RECORD SET A SIX-RECORD SET
Handel’s Messiah Not available in sterco
[ COMPLI Bach’s
Conducted by ь 4 Well-Tempered Clavier
SIR THOMAS BEECHAM, sart., C. H. 2
De Luxe SORIA Album Regular L. Р. $21.98
Performed on the harpsichord by
Stereu 575.98
WANDA LANDOWSKA
Regular L. P. $29.98
A SIX-RECORD SET
Not available in stereo
Rubinstein Plays Chopin
69 selections: POLONAISES Regular L. P. 579.98
NOCTURNES
IMPROMPTUS
PRELUDES
A FOUR-RECORD SET
Vienna Philharmonic
Festival
Conducted by
HERBERT VON KARAJAN
А FIVE-RECORD SET
MOZART: Symphony No 40 * HAYDN: Symphony No. 104
The Five Beethoven BEETHOVEN: Symphony No. 7 * BRAHMS: Symphony No. 1
Piano Concertos JOHANN STRAUSS,JR- Tales from the Vienna Woods Over-
Played by tures to Die Fledermaus and Gypsy Baron, Annen
ARTUR RUBINSTEIN Polka, Auf der Jagd + JOSEF STRAUSS: Delerien Waltz
Regular L. P. 524,98 De Luxe SORIA Album » Regular L.P. 521,98 » Sterea $25.98
Sterea $29.98
А SIX-RECORD SET
Tchaikovsky Omnibus
A cardinal feature of the plan is GUIDANCE. The Society
has a Selection Panel whose sole function is to recommend
“must-have” works. The pancl includes:
DEEMS TAYLOR, Chairman; Composer and Commentator
JACQUES BARZUN, Author and Music Critic
SAMUEL CHOTZINOFF, General Music Director, мос.
JOHN M. CONLY, Music Editor, The Allantic
Regular 1. Р. $29.98
Stereo $35.98
- Ріапо Сопсегіо Мо. 1 Violin Concerto
ARON COPLANDAGSmpasr i VAN CLIBURN JASCHA HEIFETZ
ALFRED FRANKENSTEIN, Music Editor, San Francisco Chronicle Fifth Symphony Nutcracker Suite
DOUGLAS MOORE, Composer and Professor of Music, PIERRE MONTEUX ARTHUR FIEDLER
Columbia University conducting the Boston Symphony conducting the Boslon Pops
WILLIAM SCHUMAN, Composer and President, Pathétique Symphony Capriccio Italien
Juilliard School of Music FRITZ REINER KIRIL KONDRASHIN conducting
CARLETON SPRAGUE SMITH, Former Chief of Music Division, conducting the Chicago Symphony the RCA Victor Symphony
New York Public Library
Excerpts from the Sleeping Beauty
С. WALLACE WOODWORTH, Professor of Music, Harvard
PIERRE MONTEUX conducting the London Symphony
be the man
you want
за,
4
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in tapered
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slacks by h-i-s
Styled for men with a yen for action, Trews
fit tight and trim, ride low on the hips, give
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Choice of knockout new colors; in washable | мм
Cord, Polished Cotton, Corduroy, Gabardine,
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ACTIVE MEMBER
SPORTSWEAR
Don't envy H-I-S...wear them
For a colorful 17” x 22° Skin-Diver
poster to pep up your bedroom, dorm or den
—send 25c to Н-1-5, Dept. PA,
230 Fifth Ave., N.Y. 1-40 cover cosi
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WE HAVE OCCASIONALLY been accused of
tooting our own egophone, to which we
plead guilty and promise to mend our
ways. One way-mending tactic would be
for us to modestly step aside and le
others do the tooting. These others
would include The Architects’ Journal,
published in London, whic ier this
year ran a good-sized editorial hea
гр CRAWL A MILE FOR PLAYBOY, indited
by Mr. Reyner Banham. We think our
readers тау find interesting what one
from across the sea has to say about their
favorite journal. so here follows a digest
(we don’t have room for the whole piece)
of Mr. Banham's comm
“OF course E buy it for the giant fold
out full-colour pin-ups — FLaynoy’s Play-
mates are one Of America’s greatest gifts
to Western culture, and you know how
I go for culture. But if I was а working
hypocrite I could find а dozen other
reasons for keeping abr
Its interpretation of the ‘male
field” is considerably wider than, хау,
Esquire's: while it keeps one foot firmly
planted in the bedroom door—a stance
that Esky has now abandoned — the other
covers a lot of ground. For instance,
ыглувоу handles some really hard stuff —
quite a lot of Pentagon cais must still be
humming after а Hitthem-where-the
live piece about radioactive fall-out and
another must have hurt hington.
dead-heads even with its title: Cult of
ed Leader. Wem: PLAYBOY makes
t upcoming public idols and
recently took to pieces the much-pub
ized reputation of Miss Shirley Mac
Laine for repartee, with both scholarship
and refreshingly ungentlemanly mock-
ery. In fact, its performance on the wit
and scholarship kick із notable. Nice
pieces they have on, e.g. writing on walls,
including the Pompeian founders of the
ant, the or Kilroy and an interview
with a slogan-writer of world champion-
ship class. Item, visual funnies: PLAYBOY
is one of the basic platforms for Feiller,
but it has other strong cards, includi
Gahan Wilson, a real weirdie who d
serves to be better known in sick circles
over here, and Shel Silverstein who is, I
figure, а plain nut with a fancy bea
Item, to read: there is a distinctive line
of rLaysov fiction and near-fact, planted
in the musicbiz end of the beat genc
tion (rLaysoy has its own
the 2л
and the Sheckley edge of scienc:
Item, to look at: rLAvnoy's typogi
and i
and
among the most ruthle:
comp:
just doesn’t exist. Item, architecture and
interior design (1 will repeat that to
show | am mot kidding — architecture
the years discussed and illustrated quite
a lot of furniture, culminating in a
Playboy Bed that makes most European
dre:
m beds look very thin and faint. It
also shown plans and perspectives of
two projected buildings — the Playboy
Penthouse and Playboy's Weckend Hide
„ neither of them by any designers
you have ever heard of, but none the
worse for that, and considerably better
than any equivalent projects that one
сап remember in the Home and Garden
magazines.” Mr. Banham had other nice
things to say, but it's high time we swung
ay from The Architects! Journal and
back to this August issue of the m nc
Mr. Banham was ca ng on about.
nthouse, Hide-
away neral,
we think he'll approve of this month's
ga
Having commended our fiction. he'll be
Ibuxy's
The Best of All Possible Worlds and the
outstanding lead story, A Thief in the
Night, by а new writer Ziller
whose previous mag:
have been within the limited arca ¢
Kenyon/Yale/University of Kansas Re
view circuit (but whose work has been
honored in Prize Stories 1960: O. Henry
Татах and whose fint collection, 7n
This World, will be published soon by
George Braziller, Inc.
Mr Banham will be glad to see the
author of Cult of the Aged Leader back
— Ralph Ginzburg's con
this time is an article on capital
manship. An admirer of Feiffe:
stein and Gahan Wilson, Mr. Banham
will no doubt welcome the new work by
these gentlemen in the pages ahead and
be charmed by a selection of cuties by
the late Jack Cole. Having gone оп rec-
ord as ай endorser of PLAYBOY wit, Mr.
Banham will по doubt be cheered by
Robert Paul Smith's 4 Low Bid for Im-
mortality and Larry Siegel's Moonlight
Over Whattapoppalie. Since he made
special note of our Jazz Festival, he will
most likely be engrossed by Stanley Gold-
stein's portrait of Miles.
It goes without saying that Mr. Ban-
m has an eye for the ladies — hence, he
will peruse with lingering corneas this
month's photos of Sophia Loren, will
enthusiastically unfold the three-page
photographic study of Elaine Paul, the
August ment of “one of America’s
greatest gifts to Western culture,” and
will derive delight from the discovery
that one of LeRoy Neiman’s adorable
femlins, who have heretofore graced only
our Party Jokes pages, is saucily en-
sconced on this month's cover (as well as
on the artists shoulder in the accom-
panying photograph). We venture that
Mr. B. will also be pleased то cast his
graphics-conscious glance at Neiman's wrt
reportage of the smart world of tourna
ment tennis, latest in his pLaynoy series
Man at His Leisure. Мг. Banham, wel-
come to the club.
SMITH
BRADBURY
ZILLER
NEIMAN
PLAYBILL
9
Walker’s DeLuxe is aged in charred-oak
casks for eight long years, twice as long
as many other bourbons. Its extra years
make it extra mellow.
"сут nouggoy wisst
LT таң yas most
‘STRAIGHT BOURBON WHISKEY > 8 YEARS OLD + 85.8 PROOF - HIRAM WALKER & SONS INC., PEORIA, ILLINOIS
DEAR PLAYBOY
KJ хоке PLAYBOY MAGAZINE » 232 E. OHIO ST., CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS
WORD PLAY
If your May issue draws tons of mail,
I imagine the reason might be Robert
Carola's Word Play. А sweet young thing
nd I spent the most enjoyable after:
dinner hour in a long time by poring
over this feature and then dreaming up
a few descriptive words of our own.
Bob Tyson
anta Monica, California
Carola has invented a great game!
Lila Bondy
Northbrook, Illinois
The thing about Word Play is that
nobody can be satisfied with enjoying it
ind then turning the page. Everybody
in my set has, alter coming upon this
feature, spent hours making up new
s of this type. Word Play is the
worst thing that has happened to parties
since My Fair Lady was recorded,
Tom Chadwick.
Detroit, Michigan
JAN FLEMING
The Hildebrand Rarity, in your March
issue, is an exceptionally good suspense
novelette. A laurel wreath, if you please,
for Commander Jan Fleming!
Dennis Storer
Baldwin, Kansas
By now, you probably һауе sever
hats full of letters praising Jan Flemi
The Hildebrand Rarity lor its suspense,
beautiful descriptive passages and the
general fine craftsmanship of the writin
Allen B. Brown
Ely, Minnesota
Give us more of Commander Flemin
Robert Bibeau
"Toronto, Ontario
FAR OUT FILMS
I enjoyed very much Arthur Knight:
April article, The Far Out Films. A qu
complete and satisfying survey of expe
mental films and their makers.
Philip Agee
Webster Groves, Missouri
I am the social d
which is presently
experimental film festival. We have сх
hibited for our members several of the
irman of а society
in the midst of an
Y SIN
..-0 most
provocative perfume !
films mentioned in Arthur Knight's fine
April article, including Fireworks. Reac
tion to that particular film was, for the
most part, unfavorable, because of some
ol its so-called “shocking” elements. Mr.
Knight's article has helped to clear up
some misinterpretations.
Richard D. Grillo.
New York, New York
The Far Out Films is fine. article
and J was delighted to see it in PLAYBOY
10 one of the best pieces on the subject
ever done, in fact — and I say this as a
person who chronically disagrees with
Arthur Knight!
Ernest Callenbach, Editor
Film Quarterly
Berkeley, €
ао;
а
In Arthur Knights article, The Far
Out Films, he stated that the film Fire
works is used regularly at the Menninger
Clinic for psychological testing of р:
tients. This is not true. Fireworks w
shown once as part of a film series spon
sored by the students of the Menninger
School of Psychiatry solely for the pur-
pose of their own entertainment, As a
matter of Fact, our audience reaction w
almost unanimous in considering this
film crude, offensive, and of no artistic
value. We would not recommend it for
patients or anyone else
Leon A. Levin, M.D.
Menninger Clinic
Topeka, Kansas
In publishing Arthur Knight's article,
The Far Out Films, PLAYBOY has con-
tributed an ble service to the
public by being the first widely dis-
tributed magazine to carry an informa.
tive article on the creative film (the term
creative film" being more generally ac-
ceptable to individual film makers than
xperimental" or "avantgarde"). You
have been even more direcdy helpful to
the film makers themselves whose. very
difficult struggles with creative expres-
sion through the most expensive of à
totally ignored by
those institutions and foundations who
should be responsible for supporting
film at least to the extent the other arts
are contemporarily supported, or vul
вану abused by outdated institution
heads and irresponsible critics who usu-
invalu
media are either
ARD W. LEDERER, ADVERTISING сіне
ASSOCIATES, 633 SOUTH WESTNOREL
OUIWEASTERN REPRESENTATIVE, SOUTHEAST ADVERTISING 5
ELSEWHERE ADD $I PER YEAR FOR FOREIGN POSTAGE
д. лсо Moun ay енге ses meric Geen sentanive, ЕНЕ the bat Faris has to fe
11
PLAYBOY
12
YOUNG MAN who wants to
make $10,000 a year before he’s 30
Description of our man: a doer! What we do for him: put him in The
Vested Suit. The Vest is sound, solid. substantial; doctors, lawyers
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ally demonstrate in their statements tha:
they have not even bothered to view
most of the films under their auack. In
is the silence which is most difficult to
hear; for, while no contemporary artist
of any great significance сап harbor any
illusions about mass receptivity of the
work of living artists, he knows that il
his efforts are being noised about he max
at Teast pick up а little “kulehur con
scious” cash with which to continue his
work. I personally want to thank you
for nationally breaking the silence for
түзе and a number of my contempo-
varies.
Stan. Brakhage
Boulder, Colorado
Г would like to inquire about the
availability of the films mentioned in
Arthur Knight's article. They would be
very effective as instructional material
for my class in cinematography.
Jim Lewis
Norm: Oklahoma
Information on the way from vi хунох
Reader Service Department.
h the publicity
s and the experi
mental film field in general through your
recent article by Arthur Knight, we
would lik
ted (perhaps
rticle. Film socie
сите
to coi
ect an. impressi
advertently) by that
are not fly-by-night
her in secret
to avoid the cops. You don't have to be
“in” to find them, and you don't have
10 move quickly once you do
Gideon Bachmann. Acting President
Amer ederation of Film Societies
New York, New York
reaywoy aud Mr. Knight apol il
emed to be implying that the world
о] experimental films is in any way shady
ae
тору bà
wes
My compliments to praynoy and
Arthur Knight for a most unusual arti-
cle, The Far Oul Films.
Lee С. Greenough
Hardord, Connecticut
ng done a few experimental films
ourselves, we read your article on The
Fay Out Films with the greatest interest.
For those of us who want to cic:
than mere “entertainment”
tic medium, you have performed a
real service.
Thom
"
поте
1ı the cine:
as French Norton, President
Neptune Films, Limited
Easton, Maryland
As usual. Arthur Knight has done an
excellent job of exposition — made all
the more lucid bec
informed and well-developed point of
view. 1 enjoyed his anticle very much
and, in my own small function as а film
critic, found it helpful.
Stanley Kaulhnann
Aired A, Knopl, Inc
New York, New York
use he writes hon
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13
PLAYBOY
14
I article, О Mis-
tress His, is as important to bachelors as
the Boy Scout Handbook is to Boy
Scouts.
Jel Wollert
Syracuse, New York
One of the funniest and most thought-
ticles I have ever read.
led me of the
poor fellow who called the elevator but
got the shaft.
John Е. Reynolds
Durham, North Carolina
AUTHOR!
Perla
simply becaus a
student, but 1 enjoyed. the
cartoon by Tobey on page 68 of your
3 & April issue (the group of ecclesiasts ap-
Who is the man in 417? plauding the Б нага ОА
Cincinnati, Ohio
Нез the man with impeccable taste, in champagnes, in women , . . and о : А
in clothes. For Cordon Rouge "29 and candlelight, he dons a discreet "Tobey's cartoon in your April issue is
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example of Van Heusen's “417” Collection of good-looking dress and
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the best I've seen in y
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WHO REMEMBERS
The Who Remembers listing in your Call for
April Playboy After Hows column Margarita 7
brought a flood of warm nostalgia. The
mention of old comic characters made
me instantly recall the treasured comic
book collection of my boyhood, and I
was pleasantly reminded that one of my
favorite comic book heroes, Plastic Man,
was the creation of your own late la
mented Jack Cole.
John Ferguson
San Francisco, California
joyed the reminiscent para-
graph in Playboy After Hours. Who re-
members: Twenty Grand cigarettes?
Don Richardson
Springfield, Missouri
RIBALD CLASSIC:
The April issue was a fine one— al-
most. The stories were good, Miss April
was beautiful. However there was an
outstanding omission — namely, the Rib-
ald Clasic. I look forward to these
enjoyable tales and was most disap-
pointed not to find one in the April
issue. Has this feature been discon-
tinued?
Harry Perelman, M.D.
Los Angeles, Califorr
You omitted one of my favorite fea-
tures from your April issue — the Ribald
Classic. Why?
Ray Palazzo
Toms River, New Jersey
No room, that’s all. Too many other
good things crying to be published. But
Тсау not: the Ribald Classic has by no
means been discontinued. See page 81.
у
SAS
1 must congratulate you on your fine
article on Las Vegas in the March
rLAvnoY. It is one of my favorite towns.
Thank you for the memories.
Dennis Fehler
McMinnville, Oregon
Never has our city been written up so
knowledgeably and lovingly as in the
PLAYBoy article.
Made with Cuervo Tequila
Cuervo Tequila is a
Mrs. Harold Green favorite of the American.
Las Vegas, Nevada bon vivant everywhere -
in the glorious Tequila
Playboy On the Town in Las Vegas Margarita, Tequila Sunrise,
^ i quila Martini, Tequila
presented the first true. picture of that Sour, Tequila Collins; or
great town I have ever read with tonic, soda or your
Harry В. © favorite mixer. Cuervo
ЗЕ ‘Tequila is Mexico's
дае goodwill ambassador.
‘Try it—and be
ALL OF LAS VEGAS 15 PLEASED WITH YOUR convinced,
HONEST COVERAGE OF OUR FABULOUS TOWN, 7 "Tequila Morgor
MAY 1 DRAW YOUR ATTENTION TO А MIS T Iw
QUOTATION ATTRIRUTED TO ME? Tr Is TRUF
THAT OUR COCKTAIL GIRLs DO WEAR BABY
DOLL NIGHTIES AS UNIFORMS, AND 1 PROBA-
BLY ЗА "THEY ALWAYS LOOK LIKE THEY 3 CUERVO
ARE READY FOR BED,” BUT IN YOUR CONT! T E Q U 1 L A
THE REMARK TAKES ON A SEXUAL IMPLICA-
TION I DID NOT INTEND. 1 REFERRED MERELY
15
PLAYBOY
16
NOTHING
MORE
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THE BARGAIN
In his remarkable April ste
Bargain, Edward Loomis
brilliance rarely observed
fiction. Let us have more, by all means.
Norman Р. Morgan
New York. New York
The goddamnedest story I have ever
read! Wonderful!
INTERMISSIONS
My, my! Such illustrious people writ
ing in to Dear Playboy. Ika Chase, Ben-
nett Cerf, Tony Randall, Moss Hart, all
extolling the literary virtues of your pub-
lication. They remind me of the fellow
who frequents the burlesque theatre bi
cause he likes the ice cream sold duri
Tf it happens to be the best ice cream
іп town, why shouldn't he?
MAY-D IBER
Laughed out loud at Thal May-De-
cember Madness, by Ivor Williams, in
your May issue.
William Ham
Phoenix, Arizona
Thal May-December Madness was
most interesting to me. Indeed, why push
wrinkles? Or why drive an old second-
hand car, when it is possible to get a new
опе ora slightly used onc? Of course, this
takes a little nerve — but where would
we all be if we had none? I could go
into a lot more details but it would be a
real long letter. Best wishes and all luck
to him who tries and never says die
F. (Tommy) Manville, Jr-
Chappaqua, New York
I thought the article by Ivor Williams
. but 1 do think his point de-
e serious consideration than
cn it. When you stop and think
about it, it does seem that middle
has become a very attractive age for men
and, although sociological insight is not
my angle, it strikes me that this removal
of emphasis from the glories of youth
that had once been so elementa ic
in the American scheme of things indi-
cates something important
Paddy Chavefsky
New York, New York
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by Interwoven’
STRIPED IN YDUR SCHOOL COLORS
SHOW YOUR COLORS WITH THIS STRIPE-TOP VERSION OF OUR FAMOUS WOOL ATHLETIC SOCKS.
90% WOOL—10% NYLON WHITE CREW SOCKS. GOOD LOOKING-FEEL FINE~WEAR WELL. SIZES 10, 11, 12, 13. $1.25
peus m time, as you know. we
turn over a chunk of this page to our
Research Department, which has in the
past gathered and presented interesting,
little known data on such flora aud fauna
s mistletoe and bulfaloes. Recently, dur-
g the course of researching something
else, they unearthed a lot of stulf on sea
horses, certainly a summery topic of vital
interest to all. S ге usually to
be found on shower curtains. in inexpen-
we bars in Miami and under signs that
say ANY
counter. ST. Great numbers of them may
also be encountered in the Enslish Chan-
nel (it’s either the English Channel or
the Bering Strait) wh they have con-
fused eminent scientists for years. The
sea horse is very irresponsible and has
great sense of humor, Boy sea horses all
ct like girls rl sea horses all act
like boys. (A couple of sca horses are a
lot of fun at a party.) Eminent scientists
used to think that just because a sci
horse acted like a male, it was a male and
vice versa. The male (2) sea horse en-
courages this nonsense by going around
his pouch out at friendly
females. It may be the other way around
but any sea horse with a grain of sense
ought to know that if you go around
sticking your pouch out, somebody is go-
ing to put something in it. The female
@) sea horse is a bachelor-type girl who
likes to sleep late and go to parties. So
when she sees a convenient male (2) act-
ing like a passed hat or a Salvation Army
tambourine, she uses her head, loads the
old boy up with eggs and goes out for a
Jong lunch. There is nothing of the Lit-
tle Mother about-a female (2) sea horse,
but the male (2) s
either. All we know Гог sure is that you
never hear a sea horse going around say-
ing that A Boy's (2) Best Friend Is His
a horses
ARTICLE OF JEWELKY ON TINS
ind.
and stickinj
a horse is no bargain
AFTER HOURS
Mother (2). Sorry, we will not discuss se
horses any more at this time, They make
our Research Department nervous.
Announcement on a page in Yachting
zine, under the appropriate head-
ing Swap Chest: “Ardent yachtsman
looking for dreamboat for year-round
use; fairly short rig, reasonable beam,
gracelul lines. Age unimportant pro-
vided she's well built and all equipment
in good working order. Must have been
used for pleasure only and not commer-
cially. Easy to handle and mot 555 ex
pensive to maintain, Send picture and
bust measurement, Stockton Webb, Sit
ka, Alaska.”
m:
The Irvington Theatre, in Houston,
Texas, recently boasted " tures
4": Susan Slept Here, She Couldn't Say
No, Passion and Unwed Mother.
A member of our New York staff flew
into town the other day and, over drinks,
we got to talking about the uninten-
tional humor in certain newspaper head-
lines and stories, many of which find
their way into Playboy After Hours. He
told us about New York's radio station
KNEW which, some months back. be-
came an object of his attention when
they announced: 300 GASSED AT STUDENT.
coxcekı. Naturally, our boy stayed
tuned, figuring he might be clued in to
some fresh talent for the next Playboy
Jazz Festival. But it wasn’t the music,
he later learned, just a little carbon
monoxide, that had knocked out a bunch
of choristers at a high school singing
festival in Oklahoma. А couple of morn-
ings Tater, he stopped. shaving and lis-
tened closely when this same swinging
station informed him: 112 TAYLOR IN GOOD
start. She was making
peedy recovery
ше N
from that mild
remember? But the newscast that
cinated him most involved wei
ternational affairs. With this pithy para
phrase, the announcer summed up Presi-
dent Eisenhower's view on the issue of
birth control: “Ihe American poli
d the President, is hands off.
One of the newer and more subtle
ways of propositioning а pretty has just
attention, to wit: "Why
don't you and T do something intellec
together, like learning a language?
We could take one of those sleep-teach
ing courses.”
come to our
riatric Intelligence: Police in Milan,
Traly, claim to have broken up a callgirl
ring that was made up entirely of women
over fifty One of the "girls" was
seventy-three years old.
Since the Street Offense Act drove the
prosties off the streets of London. they've
bad to figure out dodges to let the trade
know where they аге. Опе ninetcen-
year-old hustler named Bella actually
got this ad into News of the World. а
British newspaper with circulation in
the millions: “Erection and Demolition.
Expert. TRA 7260.
RECORDINGS
Jazz for Two Trumpets — Santos Brothers
Virtuesos Unlimited (Metrojazz) presents —
іш an astounding record debut — two
trampeters from an unlikely locale, the
village of Gopainala in southern Mexico,
nd Jose Santos, the liner notes
"have never seen any jazzmen. of
с in person. . . . Their jazz concep-
М2)
PLAYBOY
INSIDE OUT
OR OUTSIDE IN
Vive la difference in Dickies
Continental-style Reversible
Vest. Subdued plaid corduroy
on the one side, rich gold or
red combed sateen on the
flip side. Crested metal
buttons. Subdued price
will make you flip for jov.
Dickies
REVERSIBLE VESTS
Write for address of nearest dealer
Williamsor-Dickie Mig. Co., Fort Werth, Texas
tion stems from their listening По rec-
ords| and reading." The sounds the
brothers produce on this LP (standards,
"originals" based on the chord progres-
sions of standards and a pair of blues) —
backed by an all-Mexican rhythm section
= are, to understate it, phenomenal, In
fact, they're. unbelievable. In fact, we
don't believe а note of it. on disc or
jacket. In fact, we think the rumpet”
flights were created by two composers we
know playing valve trombones clec
tronically boosted into trumpet. r
Object: to taunt the critics. Don't let the
hoas bug you; these guys blow up a
storm.
Singer Frank D'Rone, whose first re
ord session was covered by us pictorially
(16591. Take One, April 1959) and edi
lorially (Playboy After Hours, July 1959),
now has two entries in LP catalog list
His latest release, After the Ball (Mercury),
links him with Billy Mav's studio band
in a survey of a dozen tunes, includin,
bouncy Oh! Look at Me Now, а w
Let Me Love You, а mellow Well Be
Together Again and a crisply swinging
version of the title song. Frank's sing
throughoutisfirstrate.and though someot
gements are a bit on the an
side and not up to May at his best, th
LP is further proof that D’Rone is one of
the finest of the new swinger s
~The Dj
sounds like
the best w:
Pa
ago Reinhardt of the |
odd epithet, but it’s about
у ме Gin introduce Horace
з. who makes his solo bow in a set
called Movin’ and Groovin’ (Blue Note).
Gitman Reinhardt һай two inoperable
fingers on his left hand; P
result of childhood polio, is
alilicted in his right, but you'd. never
know it (тош the way he plunges funkily
Jam Blues and
Ladd Damerou's Lady Bird. Vivo
weird technique originally
manual therapy, he makes his left hand
do double duty, suppleni
hand chords and рі
the singlenote-line solos.
Charlie Mingus alumnus now working
with Lou Donaldson's quartet іп New
York, is one of the best blues-rooted
pianists to come up in many а month,
snd by the time you hear a couple of
tacks you forget all about triumph
adversity and just enjoy.
imo Bags Groove, C
ove
For some time now, Angel Records has
been dedicated to the proposition that
fun may be had by мегсорһов
suscitating dusty old operet
we are on the side of Angel.
lusters of highlight
loosely on the musi
Their latest
Lilac Time, based
, and сусп
loosely on the life, of Franz Schubert.
А
more
Cooked up by Berté and Clutsam, this
confection is more familiar in our coun-
The slimmest, trimmest pants for Fall.
adjustable metal button side-tab waist-
band...single metal button back pocket
-..Continental front pockets...and not
one ounce of excess fabric anywhere.
RATNER'S new “Tabskins” are avail-
able in a wonderful range of solids, plaids,
and checks to fit and flatter every man!
About $15.00 at fine stores everywhere,
or write:
/
/RATNER
| /
CALIFORNIA
роте,
SAN DIEGO 12, CALIFORNIA
What is а true sports car? One born
in competition—like the MG? Or one bred for
the more tranquil joys of motoring just for the fun
of it—like the MG? Two cars? No, one magnificent car, the
new MGA 1600, a safe, comfortable, go-anywhere kind of machine
submissive д ( \ as a kitten, but cross-bred with tigers from
the high— pressure lairs of racing. This is the safest,
fastest car ever to wear the Octagon. and more than
ever it is the best known, best liked symbol of what a
sports car should be. The MGA ‘1600’ isn't just a "Men
Only" machine, nor does it wear a petticoat. It's a sociable sort, a go-halvers
car that makes driving a participation sport of both master and mate. Cozy into
the comfortable cockpit and see for yourselves. Just trade seats as co-pilots,
taking turns at the wheel and experience a mutual pleasure in
the responsive steering, firmly stead- fast suspen-
sion and superb stability of this car that keeps its feet
on the ground—whether "cruising" at 80 or
topping 100 mph. Fade-free disc brakes
on the front wheels, improved hydraulics on the rear, keep
you in firm command. No wonder this fleet champion
has always been America's favorite sports
car! Arrange for a test drive today!
A product of The British Motor Corporation, Ltd., makers of Austin, Austin-Healey, MG, Magnette and Morris cars. Represented In the United States
by Hambro Automotive Corp, Dept. НА, 27 W. 57th St., New York 19, N. Y. Sold and serviced In North America by over 1,000 distributors and dealers.
21
PLAYBOY
22
PRINCETON
Man
than you think you are
TM
This look you naturally like! Plain front, Ya top
Pockets and tailored to a "T" for taper in the
traditional Long Lean Look from ҮММ. Velcro
Side Adjusters for trusty grip at the hip. Exclu-
ive Permahold! feature prevents “waist roll"...
Shirt Hugs hold tails іп place. All the “in” colors
and blends, about $9.95 to $22.50 at better
stores. Write Playboy Reader Service Dept, or
address below.
YMM* SLACKS, вох 317a
Div. of JAYMAR-RUBY INC., MICHIGAN CITY, IND.
*young man's mood Арш. Pend,
try as Blossom Time, with additional
fillips added by Romberg (Ше popular
Song of Love, one of the fillips, is there-
fore missing in this pressing of the origi-
nal score, but the disc is so melodious
you won't mind). Lchár's The Merry Widow
is demonstrably the most beloved oper-
etta ever written. Relentlessly tuneful,
gly effervescent, those who can
resist it are not to be trusted. It's done
to a turn here by the Sadler's Wells com-
pany. White Horse Inn, by Benatzky and
Stolz, is new to us, but ran for
forma
23 та а
Kitty Carlisle and William С:
well as being viewed. in New York less
s a thumping Tyrole
frolic. In a somewhat different category
is Noel Coward's period piece, Bitter Sweet,
a deliberate throwback lovingly con-
cocted of refined sugar and pure co
ой. Coward says it “has given me more
complete satisfaction than anything else
I have ever written,” and listening to
the lilt of Zigeuner, Tokay and I'l See
You Again, one docs not wonder at
pleasure. The late William
wrote, some years ago, of the
Sweet effect in words that might well
be the mood evoked by this whole
of recorded revi You find it
Faintly,” he said, "when you look over
old letters the rats have nibbled at, one
evening you don't go out: there is a
little of it, impure and odorous, in the
very sound of barrel organs, in quiet
squares in the evenings. . . . It is all right
for beasts to have no memories; but we
poor humans have to be compensated.
is
Bolitho
Bitter
als:
I's a restrained, but groovy, Count
Basie band that enlivens ten standards
оп Dance Along with Basie (Roulette), the
kind of slick set you might hear if you
escorted your woman to one of the
Count's dance dates. Ther imum
of instrumental pyrotechnics — and not a
blues in sight. It’s a rare re
the Basieites confront the li
to Be You, It's a Pity to Say Goodnight,
Fools Rush In and Give Me the Simple
Life. Such tasty tunes merit the Count’s
touch.
‘The sanctified sphere of Negro church
music rarely has been as glowingly show-
cased as it is Ш My Lord What a Mornin’
(КСА Victor), а pulse-pounding perform-
ance by Harry Belafonte and his folk
singers. "These songs of yearning and
protest have a dignity that Belafonte
doesn't compromise. From the tender-
ness of Steal Away to the drama of Swing
Low to the vitality of Ezekiel, ther
not а dull or superficial moment to be
heard. As poet Langston Hughes notes,
“If the old folks who made up these
+}. With unusual
telephone amplifier
Yashica YT-300
10-transistor, broadcast
and short-wave radio
Hardly bigger than a pocket-size book—
operates Оп 4 penlike batteries. Extra fea-
ture includes unique telephone amplifier—
lets everyone in room hear both sides of
conversation, Complete with batteries, саг-
phone for private listening, phone
and leather case, only $69.95. At your
photo dealer, or write:
(Т) YASHICA INC. 234 FIFTH AVE., N.Y. 1, N.Y.
In Canada: Anglophoto Ltd., Montreal 8, Р.О.
Atlantic ©Д
artists
opened
The Playboy Club
with
the fabulous song stylist
Mabel
Mercer
— MERELY MARVELOUS,
MABEL MERCER
Atlantic LP 1322
OTHER LPs BY MABEL MERCER
Once In A Blue Moon
Atlantic LP 1301
Midnight At Mabel Mercer's
‘Atlantic LP 1244
Mabel Mercer Sings Cole Porter
‘Auantic LP 1213
The Art of Mabel Mercer
Allantic LP 2-602
the swinging pianist
Fred Kaz
EASTERN
EXPOSURE
Atlantic LP 1335
Available stereo $5.98 and monaural $4.98
Write fort P catalogue and stereo disc listing.
АТ
ж
10441
Se,
D
ТГТУ
P M'Wbisa es x
KEN VENTURI, BUD PALMER and FRANK GIFFORD
Gifford wears the Fair Isle pullover, $16.95.
We have been thinking of changing the name to the Jantzen International Shag Club
For quite some years we have been
content simply to bear down on each
sweater that we manufacture and try
to make it the best in recorded his-
tory. So that if they ever put up à
“Sportswear Hall of Fame” in Coop-
erstown or somewhere, there will Бе
Jantzen sweaters all over the gallery.
But in designing great sweaters
one at a time we started picture
shags, and although no one ever
thought it possible to combine the
soft hand of shag with rich patterns,
we have done it, and we say modestly
that we are the envy of the sweater
trade.
These are grand sweaters; have
you ever seen Venturi, Palmer, and
Gifford look better?
We must give it to you straight:
There may not be any left if you wait
long. Some commercials tell you to
“hurry down to your corner drug-
store," but no one hurries because
druggists don’t run out of aspirin.
But the fine stores that carry Jantzen
will run out. There aren’t enough
picture shags to go around.
Jantzen Irc., Portland в, Oregon
{с
sportswear for sportsmen
Above, JANTZEN INTERNATIONAL SPORTS:
CLUB at Monterey peninsula Crosby Clam-
bake, Ken won; Ken Venturi, Frank
Gifford, Warren Miller, and Bud Palmer.
Left, Bud Palmer wears the Argyle shag
pullover, 516.95. Center, Ken Venturiin the
Argyle shag cardigan, $19.95. Photos by
Tom Kelley.
PLAYBOY
24
Mister.
you're going to wear
that shave all day!
START WITH THIS NEW FORMULA BEFORE-
SHAVE LOTION . . . stop 4 o'clock stubble
frouble! Pro-Electric with ISOPHYL® lets
you shave blade-close, all-doy clean,
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the Old Spice woy. .60 & 1.00 no ted. tox
OU Spice
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SHULTON
Did you
invent
the
Bacardi
Party?
For a year we've reported that playboys
the South, North, East and West
claim they invented the Bacardi Party.
| Write, wire,
or phone
today!
But could it be you're the man we're
after? If so. write and give full details
—like date. place. and ingredients.
The Bacardi Party. (as you know if
you invented it). is where the guests
bring Bacardi, and the host supplies the
sas many as he can think of—
beer. cide
mixi
ENJOYABLE ALWAYS AND ALL WAYS біш
и
the man who started it all, lets hear
etc, Fun!
becoming a big thing. So if you're
(€) BACARDI IMPORTS, INC.
595 Madison Ave, NY
Rum...80 proof
from you. There's no prize, but we'll
love you for it.
spirituals were living today, I think they
would like the way а young lamb named
Harry s 27 Amen, brother.
Peterson has recorded so
пу tunes he's apparently decided it’s
me to start all over again. His latest
series of "composer" LPs is a revisit to
ground he covered several years ago. in
the prestereo era, when he cut a stri
of sides honoring prominent songsi
Among the sets to be updated by the
Peterson trio (Rav Brown blows bass.
Ed ‘Thigpen drums) are Oscar Peterson
Plays the Cole Porter Songbook and compar-
ably-titled simplings of
George Gershwin, Duke Ellington, Richard
Rodgers, Harry Warren-Vincent Youmans,
Harold Arlen, Jimmy McHugh and Jerome Kern
(all on Verve). The demands of the pop
Irving Berlin,
market have led to the cramming of
twelve tunes onto each LP, making some
of the performances once-over-lightlies,
without any solos of length. Bur the
material is uniformly heartening and the
trio — most of the time — cooks in cus.
tomarily spirited fashion.
А trio of perennial Playboy Jazz Poll
winners — guitarist Barney Kessel, bassist
Ray Brown and drummer Shelly Manne
—have a giddy -together on Poll Win-
ners Three (Contemporary). the third in
their series of classy conferences. Аз
spryly inventive as ever, the threesome
cavorts elfortessly th ph a ten-tune
set, including one or by cach, Billy
Strayhorn’s rarely recorded Raincheck
and а Neely stated 7 Hear Music.
BOOKS
The history of British craftsmanship is
laid out in Nothing but the Best (McDowell.
Obolensky, ) by Thomas Girtin.
Here stories of the men, and women.
who have for a couple of centuries served
the British gentry. The tale is told usu-
ally through a history of one firm in
cach field: gunsmiths. glovers. haters,
bootmakers, coachbuilders, ѕад ет, |
clers, umbrella makers and so on. This is
studded with odd
ion (such as the
iv the quality of
а silk top hat is to lay a plank across the
top ud on it— ad British-
made lid won't so much as wrinkle).
\ proper saddle will last forty years, and
one by a fine saddler like the firm of
Sowter's may be worth more secondhand
than it was new. In the lush days before
the Kaiser War, bootmakers almost never
һай a pair of their handdasted, һа
sewn ces ns back for resolin
their owners so rarely walked on
thing but carpet (when they stepped out
of the carriage or limousine to enter a
& bool
Your com plete Brookfield The best of everything you need for a complete
clothing wardrobe — in class, on campus, and on the town.
And it's far and away the greatest value in America today —
giving you authentic "Ivy" styling in the newest long-wearing
$ 85* quality fabrics and pattems. See it at your town's most
progressive store, where the featured brand is " rookfield",
for all— world's largest specialist in popularpriced clothing.
‘prices somewhat higher west of the Mississippl or buy the items separately
---
|
а»
?u
Corduroy Suits with Reversible Vests, 529.55
World's largest specialist.
in populse-price clothes
100% Wool Hopsack Suits with Reversible Vests, $49.95
100% Wool Blazers with Embroidered Crests, $25
100% Wool Reversible Vests, $7.95
HERE’S WHERE TO GET YOURS
Listed below are some of the many fine stores that feature Brookfield Clothes:
Ashland, Ky. tar Stores Ш Myer Bros, Stores Parkersburg, W. Va.
Baltimore, Md. Clothes Jacksonville, Fle. .. Young Men's Shop iladelphia Area, Ра.
Ваше creek. Mich. Jersey City, М. J. Charles the Haberdasher tshurgh, Ра.
Bessemer, Ala. Joplin, Mo. Newman Merc. Co, Pontiac, Mich.
Brockton, Mass, Kokomo, Ind. Ralph Golightly Salisbury, N. C.
Bufaalo, М. Y..... Lincoln, Nebr. Ben Simon & Sons Sandusky, Ohio
johnson-Freer Inc. Los Angeles, Cal <The Мау Со. Savannah, Ga.
Scott а Co, Manchester, Conn. “Regal Men Shop Springfield, Mo.
Chicago, Il. ii ‚ Memphis, Tenn. Е Staten Island, N.Y.
Dallas, Texas The Morris Stores Merced, C: . B. is Tennessee
101 West 21st Street, New York Yi, В. Y. + Watkins 4-6740
lorner 8. Harrison
Lit Brothers
tandard Sportswear
Monarch Mens Wear
„Trexler Bros.
‘The Manhattan Store
5 & С Men's Shop
Freeman's Inc.
„Garber Bros.
„Thomas Hill Stores
Denver, Colo. May Со. D& F Milwaukee, Wisc. Johnnie Walker Stores Toledo, Ohio. iedtke's
Todd's Clothes Monticello, N.Y. .. Boystown Clothes Victoria, Texas . Dunlaps
North Dakota . С. Stores Walterboro, 5. Warshaw's
North Dakota “The Straus Со. Washington, D. С... Hecht Co.
Hattiesburg, Miss. loff's on Pine Dklahoma Emmer Bros. West Lafayette, Ind, „Henry's
PLAYBOY
26
FRYE
JET BOOTS
++, SO RARE their comfort
because made over the one-and-only
FITTED-INSTEP Last, exclusive
with FRYE ... Contour-fit and
costly bench-lasting retains
the original shape and flex for
the life of the Boot. SO RICH
in appearance because made
of finest Calf that mellows
and weathers with use.
Black or Brown.
5 1016, AAA to ЕЕЕ
Most Styles Undor % £9
Wide ME Ts Ce Asl: for versatile FRYE JET BOOTS
at your nearest store, or write
JOHN A. FRYE SHOE COMPANY, INC., Marlboro, Mass.
Telephoto and wide-angle versatility for
Polaroid Cameras
Enjoy new fun and flexibility with KALIGAR
AUX. LENSES for Polaroid Cameras. Easy
to use; no exposure increase. Tele. or w.a. lenses
(with ‘case, filter ring, slip-on adapter ring):
each $24.95. KALIGAR FINDER-BRACKET
for simultaneous use of flash, Bounce-Bracket,
Wink-Ligh' 5. SET, $57.50,
Kaligar Aux. Twin-lens units from $19.95
Kaligar 35mm Aux. Lenses from $15.
See your photo dealer. For literature, write Dept. PBL-
Kalimar ее
istributors+ U.S. A.: Arel Inc. ond Movie Supply of Hawaii, Lid.
PLAYBOY ACCESSORIES
Playboy's familiar rabbit in bright
thodium on gleaming black enamel,
attractively packaged in felt bag.
earrings $4.50 bracelet $3 the set $7
cuff links $4.50 tie tack $2.50 the set $6.50
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS dept. 259
232 east chio street, chicage 11, пой
shop, they expected to find carpet un-
rolled on the sidewalk). These shops
flourished in the golden days of Empire,
but it was a buyers’ market: no British
aristocrat would dream of paying a bill
before it was а year old, and onc ресі,
deferentially reminded by his booumaker
that his account had run three years. re-
plied, “You're in a damned big hurry,
aren't you?” But if the shopkeeper knew
his station and minded his manners and
had been fortunate in his customers he
would probably be paid eventually.
Meantime, when he called at the town
house in Berkeley Square to measure the
ducal cranium for а bowler, or to show
the latest Fabrics, he would be pleasantly
received and even treated to a glass of
dry sherry and а biscuit. Sometimes he
didn't need many customers. Two good
families, with their retainers, would sup-
port a modest tailoring establishment in
1900. Today many of the ancient crafts
re dying out, decimated by the machine
and the difficulty of finding apprentices
The pattern of survival is spotty; the
fishing-rod makers are prosperous, but
jewelry shops that once thought it rou-
tine for a customer to order three dozen
gold scarfpins now do по business
all. In the surviving trades, quality is as
good as ever. The bootmakers still polish
ntleman's shoes half an hour daily
month before delivery, for example
One thing Лаз changed: bills are prompt-
ly presented, and mo forclocktugsing
about it, either.
Those of you who got a bang out of
Hs Origin © Application іп the
Layboy will delight in the knowl-
edge that an expanded version of the
gooly graphic lecture called Professor Irwin
Corey — The World's Foremost Authority (Cita
del, 51.25) is out in supersize paperback.
Likewise іп paperback is a sort of en-
larged rendition, mit pitchers, of The
Roger Price Theory of Nomenclature,
which you chuckled over last March i
pLavnoy. Roger calls it What Not te Name
the Baby (Price-Stern, $1.50), and he has
been aided in the expansion by Leonard
Stern and cartoonist Peter Marks. We
urge you to step right up to your
bookseller and demand both volumes.
June
avorite
FILMS
‘The key to The Apertment belongs to
ack Lemmon, who scems at lust to have
made it as a star. This picture, like Some
Like It Hol, is the work of producer
director Billy Wilder and writer 1. A. L.
Diamond. Its premise: а guy could be-
come pretty miserable once the word
went around to his lecherous office supe
riors (suburbanites all) that his Manhat-
CORDUROY SPORT SUIT...
tailored for smart sophistication.
Coat is trimly cut with easy
natural shoulders, Matching vest
reverses to handsome foulard.
Trousers are trimly tapered for
casual comfort. Separate mix-or-
match slacks in University
styling with adjustable waist.
Іп fashionable Fall shades at
fine men’s shops.
Suit $39.95
Slacks $7.95
225
EE N D 3
For Young Меп of АП Ages Sportswear
о | Tacoma, Washington
PLAYBOY
28
Nothing tells others so much about you
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tan apartment might be borrowed for
quickie and notso-quickic engagements
Jack helps a lot as the harried but too-
ambitious Organization Man who is pro-
gressing at the office only as long as he
gives up his bed. Fred MacMurray, the
personnel manager, starts borrowing dhe
place in order to resume an affair with
elevator operator Shirley MacLaine, a
gal Jack has had his eye on for a long
time, Fred turns out to be a suburban
rat, capable of shoving a humdred-dolla:
bill at Shirley аға Christmas present be
lore racing for the commuter special
She realizes that this isn't exactly the
highest sort of compliment: tries a bottle
full of sleeping pills and collapses on
Jack's bed. Finally, Jack and Shirley get
together — after dozens of further com-
plications — and he flees the firm and the
cushy job he'd parla
Jast third (there's something awfully un-
funny about suicide), the film has some
very bright and biti
The Chosers provides a night on the
town (Paris) in the company of Brigitte
Bardor's newish husband, Jacques С
rier, We're only with him а few hou
but by count he manages to turn down
about six sure-thing offers from some of
the most appealing women in Paris
Dany Robin, Estella Blain, Belinda Lee
and Anouk Aimée: ako a Swedish le;
played by Margit Saad. Counterpoint is
provided by the problem of the shy guy
who accompanies him on this jaunt
around town, pop singer Charles Azna
vour. By the end he's got himself a пісе
liule nurse, and it looks like his prob
lems will soon be solved—on a couch
perhaps, but not a psychiatrist's.
The Rat Roce is
about а tenor man, Tony Curtis, who
blows in from Milwa
big time in the Big City, and who is
braced up for the battle by а bitter
little taxidance-hall girl, Debbie Rey-
nolds. They run into lots of troubles, but
it all works out in the end with ‘Tony
and Debbie in a big clinch. There's some
moderately lively repartee and lingo, but
this is third-rate Kanin, and Gerry Mulli-
gan is completely wasted as leader of a
very polite jazz band on a South Ameri-
can cruise (we thought Lombardo types
played those gigs).
You must see Hiroshima, Mon Amour, а
film of infinite significance. The very
іше ts its complexity, linking the
name of the city that symbolizes the pos
sible suicide of the human race with the
tenderest form of address in any lan-
guage. A young French actress, played by
Emmanuelle Riva, in Hiroshima to work
in a pro-peace film, has met a young
Japanese architect, Eiji Okada, the night
f expressing
masculinity
(naturally)
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before the last da
only the memory of the Hi 'oshi
bombin Iso recollections of her
own past the occupation she
loved a oldier in her home
town: on the eve of the liberation he was
killed. She was d d and humi
and she went mad. Now, fourteen у
lover din
sionate mceti
streets of Hiroshima, іп its
hotel bedroom, i
final s ion a terrible imbalance has
been established between the personal
misfortune of the young woman, pathetic
be, and the able out-
ge of nuclear warfare which surrounds
it and makes her trauma seem perhaps
all too trivial and selfpiteous. The
beauty and the performance of Mlle.
Riva are superb. Director Alain Resnais,
whose first feature this is, and his scena-
rist, nove 1€ Duras, have suc
and partings
afe
ceeded one of the most
disturbing 1 films of our time.
Bells Are Ringing is the tuneful and de-
htful movie version of the Comd
li;
Green Broadway musi
for the presence of the most talented
Judy Holliday, And thanks. too. to
whoever was т lowing her
(rather than any of a dozen. vapid star-
lets) to recreate her Br le. No
one else could have сс » the
comedy and. pathos and charm of Judy
tchboard operator who loves
sled in the lives of her a
as a shy si
voice (or rather several voices —
from Santa Claus for a kid, to Mom for
writer-about-town Dean Martin), she be-
on them in person
solve their problems, especially Dean
"This is complicated. by the fact that a
detective suspect the service is а
front for а callgirl operation when in
fact it is functioning without Judy's
knowledge as the main office for about а
hundred bookies, led by Eddie Foy, Jr.
Anyway, Judy goes out on the town
spreading а dizzy kind of good cheer
and good luck wherever she gocs, singing
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Drop That Name and The Party's Over.
alternatively wistful, raucous, soulful.
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TWO HUNDRED YEARS OF TOBACCO EXPERIENCE
CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE
FLAVELL
DEAR PLAYBOY.
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS...
A THIEF IN THE NIGHT—fiction -. EUGENE ZILLER
_________ВАҮ BRADBURY 37
STANLEY GOLDSTEIN 39
THE BEST OF ALL POSSIBLE WORLDS—fction —
MILES—jazz._-.
THE PLAYBOY CLUB— pictorial...
-ROBERT PAUL SMITH 45
_-SHEL SILVERSTEIN 46
-- 49
RALPH GINZBURG 50
THOMAS MARIO 52
А LOW BID FOR IMMORTALITY—arti
THE GOLFER—humor.
THE ELEGANT ENSEMBLE—attire.
CAPITAL GAINSMANSHIP—article.
EAT GREAT, LOSE WEIGHT—food.
DESIGNING PLAYMATE—playboy's playmate of the month.
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor
MOONLIGHT OVER WHATTAPOPPALIE—satiro, LARRY SIEGEL 62
LELAND WEBB 65
А MAN FOR THE MOON—fiction..
THE CONTEMPORARY LOOK IN CAMPUS CLASSICS—ottire.RORERT L GREEN 67
THE KISS—humor. JULES FEIFFER 70
SOPHIA THE SULTRY—pictorial.
FOREST HILLS—man at his leisure. —
ON THE SCENE—personaliti
COLE'S CUTIES—cartoon:
А TRYST OF FATE—rbold classic .GEROLAMO РАРАВОЗСО 84
PLAYBOY'S INTERNATIONAL DATEEOOK—travel. PATRICK CHASE 110
HUGH M. HEFNER editor ond publisher
А. с. SPECTORSKY associate publisher and editorial director
RAY RUSSELL executive editor ARTHUR PAUL art director
JACK J. KESSIE associate editor VINCENT т. TA JIRI picture editor
VICTOR LOWNES Ш promotion director тоны MASTRO production manager
ELDON SELLERS special projects HOWARD W. LEDERER advertising director
ROBERT 5. PREUSS business manager and circulation director
KEN pURDY contributing editor; ROBERT L. GREEN fashion director; BLAKE
RUTHERFORD fashion editor; THOMAS MARIO food & drink editor; PATRICK CHASE
travel editor; LEONARD FEATHER jazz editor; DON GOLD, EUGENE TROOBNICK
assistant editors; ARLENE BOURAS copy editor; REID AUSTIN associate art director;
JOSEPH H. PACZEK assistant art director; ELLEN HERMANSON art assistant;
BEV CHAMBERLAIN assisiant picture editor; DON BRONSTEIN staff photographer;
FERN A. HEARTEL production assistant; ANSON MOUNT college bureau; JANET
PILGRIM reader service; WALTER J. HOWARTH subscription fulfillment manager.
GENERAL OFFICES, PLAYNOY BUILDING, 23E E. онто STREET, CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS. RETURN POSTAGE MUST
ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF THEY ARE TO BE RETURNED AMD NO
RESPONSIBILITY CAN БЕ ASSUMED FOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS, CONTENTS COPYRIGHTED © eo EY нин PUN.
ismine CO., INC. NOTHING МАТ BE REPRINTED IN WHOLE OR (H PART WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE
PUBLISHER. AMY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AMD 3EMI-FICTION нк TWIS MAGAZINE
And ANY REAL PEOPLE AND PLACES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREDITS: COVER DESIGN BY ARTHUR PAUL, DRAWING
Gh tenor meian, т. B PHOTOGRAPHS DY FETE TURNER, SHERMAM WEISBURD, MARV KONER. PLAYBOY
STUDIO, т. 40-44 PHOTOGRAPH: BY DON BRONSTEIN, FLAYSOY STUDIO: ғ. 92.53 THOTCGRAPH BY ROSE
Mave, P. 7173 PHOTOGRAPHS вт BOB LANDAY, COURTESY ŁO DUCA: “"L°EROTISME AU CINEMA:
PHIL, STERN, ALBERTO COCCHI, ғ.ғ. AND GLONE PHOTOS; P. 78 PHOTOGRAPM DY JERRY YULSMAM
Sophia Р. 71
ЕЗ. vol. 7, по. 8 — august. 1960
32
а man’s life is a corridor without doors, he must make a door
fiction ву EUGENE ZILLER
WALTER TRITKA COULD NOT HAVE SAID AT WHAT MOMENT he had made up his mind to go to America. But there at
the edge of the field, beneath a clump of trees in whose shade they had paused а moment to tighten the harness
and turn the plow, he turned to his sister’s husband and told him.
The other looked quietly at him. He was a big man, with large, blunt hands. His face, burned by constant sun,
weathered to the color and texture of old leather, was gentle, benign almost. “Ahh,” he said. “To go to America.”
“Yes,” Walter said quickly, in a kind of assent almost, as though the other had said it first. He was a young
man, almost fifteen years younger than his brother-in-law. He spoke with a young man’s eagerness, a young
man's utter absence of reflection, the slow fatalism that comes with years. "I have thought it over," he said.
“This is no Ше." He gestured, taking in with his sweeping arm the brown broken earth extending to the hori-
zon between intermittent trees, the intermittent houses, the more substantial clutter of the village beyond.
“What is there here for a man?” he said.
"You are absolutely right,” his brother-in-law said, though he did not look up from the harness at which he
was bent, his hands did not cease upon the leather. Before him the horse stood immobile, as though carved
of wood, the reck of its sweat rising in waves. It blew over them upon the noon's hot, gentle suspiration.
“You work and you work and you grow old with nothing to show for it,” Walter said with bitterness,
“It is the way things are," his brother-in-law said quietly.
“My own father died in this field, dropped dead among the furrows,” he said.
‘The other rose, “I know,” he said. He clucked to the horse, the plow lines already settled about him, his back
braced to their pull. He held the plow with both hands. “Come,” he said. “Тһе day is going, and it is a big field.”
But Walter was not through. They moved out from under the trees, advancing across the field into the
bright, fecund stillness of midday. They moved slowly, the one rigid against the pull of horse and plow, the
other ten feet behind scattering seed, in a tableau as changeless and immemorial as the land itself. That’s it, he
thought. Am I supposed to die like my father too, falling here among the furrows, with nothing to show for
my Ше? “Is that it?" he said aloud, loudly, so that ahead his brother-in-law half turned and spoke across his
shoulder.
“What?” he said.
And without ceasing, his right arm moving in broad, measured arcs above the earth while from his hand seeds
fell in flurries gentle as snow, he went on to list the entire harsh catalog of his grievances, while now and then
his brother-in-law would reply, not ceasing either, both of them continuing to advance over the field that same,
undeviable distance apart, in the same undeviable attitudes of plowing and sowing, so that from afar it was as
if they were not even aware of each other's presence.
At the day's close they unharnessed the borse, leaving the plow in the field where it stood. In the distance they
could see others doing likewise, the plows upright, standing in silhouette like sudden bizarre shoots. They led the
horse from the field, down to the road where they would meet the others, returning also to the village, to home;
vague shapes, shadows in movement along the dust, quietly murmurous above the rising click and whir of insects,
though Walter knew them all by their voices, their walk. Though their faces were but faint blurs in the dying
light he knew as well how each one looked as if it were full day; each turn of mouth, thrust of nose, each worn
and irremediable flesh which he believed to be the heritage of his kind so long as they dwelt in this doomed
and bitter land, handed from father to son as though it were palpable as family Bible or gold watch. Of course,
he thought. It is fine here for the Count and for people like Zemcik, They don't have to sweat in the fields like
animals day after day, burning up in the summer, freezing in winter. He thought, I wouldn't have any complaints
either if all I did was give parties and ride around in fancy carriages brought from Cracow.
And then he found the word he sought and which best epitomized what he felt and why he knew he must leave.
Dignity, he said fiercely, to himself, moving at his brother-in-law's side while about them the swift dust shifted
and dissolved, the night came оп. It is that а man cannot live here with dignity and hold up his head. What he
had in mind were the small, daily gestures of obsequiousness. When they talked to the Count it was with down-
cast eyes, the shuffling of feet; hands rose to remove hats in a single instantaneous reflex. Once the Count had
stopped them in the rain, seated within his carriage, bent forward a little, his hands folded upon the silver head
a thief in the night
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PLAYBOY
34
of his cane, discussing casually the
weather and the prospects for the harvest
while they stood bareheaded in the road,
the mud, replying in slow, respectful
tones while the rain streamed and
streamed upon them. A man should not
have to bear that too, he thought. He
did not hate the Count. He didn’t еуеп
hate his land, his heritage, which con-
demned him forever to a life abject and
straight as a corridor along which there
were no turnoffs, no doors through
which to step. He abjured them. It was
as though he had discovered a turnoff, a
door. He thought: A man does not have
to live here. This is not the only nation
on earth,
At his side his brother-inJaw moved
without speaking, except to respond to
those who greeted him. From across the
dusk they called to him, his name. They
all knew him; in the dying light they
could not mistake the erect figure taller
than most, the deliberate, сусп gait.
Though he was only forty they spoke to
him as they would to the elders; they
came to him for advice. After they had
gone on awhile his brother-in-law said,
“Have you thought about money?”
Money?” he said.
“They are still charging for boat tick-
ets, aren't they?” his brother-in-law said.
“Yes. Yes," he said. "Of course."
“Well?” his brother-in-law said.
“I have some money saved," he said.
This was not strictly true. He had some
money due him for work he had done
for Burgomaster Zemcik, but it was
already owed. Вис he spoke at once so as
not to appear foolish, to appear as
though he had had the money for the
tickets in mind all along.
“At least it is a start,” his brothcr-in-
law said. And he proceeded to explain
how arrangements could be made where-
by Walter would not need the entire sum
of the three tickets at once, only a down
payment, an advance, the balance to be
paid once he was in America and he was
working; which he, Walter, already knew
of and had investigated and realized
with a forlorn and sinking despair that
even barring such commonplace disasters
as illness or drought or simply a poor
harvest, it would take him five years at
least of constant and unremitting saving,
of scraping and hoarding trivial, niggard
sums, to accrue enough for the down
payment alone.
He had been about to tell his brother-
in-law that out in the field. That had
been the result of a forlorn hope too. He
did not know if his brother-in-law had
any money. If he had, neither did he
know if he would lend it. Yet so great
was his despair, his desperation. He was
totally devoid of hope. He was about to
tell him now. He slowed, putting his
hand upon the other's arm, looking
across into the other's face. But even in
this there seemed to operate some fatal-
ism, some principle of doomed and in-
escapable frustration. No sooner did he
touch the other's arm than there rose the
faint, distant drumming of hoofbeats, so
that it must have seemed to his brother-
in-law that Walter had touched him only
to call attention to that. When his
brother-in-law looked up it was to stare
along the road; when he paused it was
only to listen.
At his side, Walter listened too, though
there was no interest in his face. He was.
thinking how he had been frustrated in
this too. He looked at his brother-in-law
intent upon the hoofbeats. Now would
һе a fine time to tell him, he thought.
He decided to tell him after whatever it
was along the road came and went. It
was now almost full dark, the short stark
twilights of spring, the sudden stars. In
the distance the hoofbeats grew. The
carriage appeared suddenly, around a
turn, a bulky, darker shape behind the
dark shapes of horses, appearing between
the trees ranked on either side. They
could not have been able to tell, from.
that distance, in that light, that the car-
riage was the Burgomaster’s. Yet they
began at once to step off the road, paus-
ing one by one in the dank growth at
the road's edge, stilling the insects there
so that silence lay in small patches about
them. When they recognized the carriage.
those who were wearing hats began to
remove them, Walter could see in that
int light neither dusk nor dark, thc
slight stirrings about him, the almost im-
perceptible movements of hand to head.
He stood a little behind and to the left
of his brother-in-law. They both wore
the same kind of hat, one of light cotton,
with a narrow crescentshaped bill. He
was already thinking: This once. Just
this once.
When his brother-in-law began to
remove his cap Walter stood without
moving, his arms at his sides, his eyes
fixed straight before him. He did not
move when the carriage was upon them.
It came by at an even pace, not fast, yet
with all the clatter and haste of speed.
not five feet away, so that any of them
might have bent and reached out and
touched it; the surging flanks of the
horses, the wheels, the embossed door
beyond which the carriage's interior
appeared completely dark, so they could
not see if Burgomaster Zemcik sat within,
or his wife, or both. Or neither, he said.
He spoke to himself, smiling to himself.
That would bc a good one, hc said. Tak-
ing their hats off to an empty carriage.
The carriage swept past, raising the
dust. He stood without moving, the cot-
ton cap on his head, a young man’s smile
of defiance on his lips. Yet for an instant
his breathing had almost ceased. Now
that the carriage was past he breathed
quickly, deeply. He looked at his brother-
in-law. He had always felt something a
little like awe for him. Seeing him there
at the road’s edge, standing ankle deep
in growth, his cap in his hands, he felt
almost contempt. Не would Һауе denied
that his own defiance had been due to
the poor light in which nothing could be
clearly seen, to the fact that he stood to
the side and a little behind his brother-
in-law, partly hidden by him. My God,
he thought, as though seeing his brother-
in-law for the first time. He's a clod. He
will live like this to his dying day,
slaving in the fields, taking off his hat
to carriages.
By the time he left the others he had
made up his mind to rob the Burgo-
master’s house. He said nothing to his
brother-in-law. They came to his house
first and he said good night and went up
the path, as he always did. The others
went on beyond. Halfway to the house
he paused and stood listening for a mo-
ment, the murmurous voices floating on
the air, the faint, occasional jangle of
harness, Directly before him was the
house. On the left was the small plot in
which, in season, he grew the trivial
crops of vegetables, the tomatoes, onions
and carrots out of the grudging earth,
enough for his own needs. He stood a
moment thinking of the Burgomaster,
the carriage. He did not actually believe
the carriage had been empty. The Bur-
gomaster often went on trips at odd
hours, on business, up and down the
province throughout which he owned
lands, forest, interest in a railroad, He
thought of the Burgomaster's house, dark
within its dark grove of trees, the sery-
ants dispersed, empty except for the
housekeeper, her son who doubled as
gardener and watchman. His breathing
suddenly came faster now, his blood
faster, as though he and his blood knew
at the same instant: There is no other
way.
He was not surprised at himself. At
supper, eating the thin potato soup, the
coarse bread which were the unvarying
staples of his diet, he thought: What am I
supposed to do, rot here like the others?
Behind the flimsy partition erected to
make the single room two, the child
cried intermittently. He did not think of
himself as a thief, a criminal. So great
was his hope, his despair, the robbery
seemed to him to be the sole logical
course and direction open to him.
Nor did he tell his wife. Later, at her
side, listening to her slow, faintly nasal
breathing while she slept, he thought: 1
will tell her a rich uncle died. Actually
he did not know if she desired to go to
America. He hadn't asked her, and she
had never told him. He assumed it, just
as he assumed each day the sun would
rise. Just as he assumed certain things
about America, though by now these
had been transformed into something
like actual belief, as unshakable as the
(continued on page 36)
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PLAYBOY
thief in the night (continued from page 34)
religious man's belief in heaven. He had
never been to America. Neither had he
spoken to someone who had. In this he
was like the religious man, too. The
closest he had come was to receive a
letter from a friend, a man with whom
he had grown up and who had gone to
America a year earlier.
That was another thing. He did not
think of America so much as a place in
which gold lay in the streets. More often
than not he didn't even regard it as a
place at all; geographic, within fixed
latitudes, occupying space and distance
upon the earth. Foremost in his mind
was the notion of America as a condi-
tion, a state of moral purity alongside
which the fact that you had to traverse
three thousand miles of ocean and you
needed a ticket for which you had to
pay. to get there, was only incidental.
He thought of America as a region of
the spirit almost, so firm in his mind
was the notion that at least here out of
all the corrupt and bitter earth no man
need feel greed or malice or deceit, at
least here men lived in a state of serene
and perpetual reaitude. He believed
that. What misled him was the absence
les, the hard ineradicable lines of
lcge, the familiar appurtenances of
spoliation generally. It led him to be-
lieve that in America no men took
bribes, lusted, transgressed. As though
all that were necessary to make men
better than they were was a span of
virgin continent and hope and repudia-
tion of the bitter knowledge it had cost
the old world so much to gain, which
was them both. That was crucial to him:
the belief that men could (and should)
be made better than they were. In other
circumstances he might have been a
revolutionary. When he read the short,
scrawled letters of his childhood friend
he did not believe they were from the
same man he had known, He believed
he would not be the same man, once he
entered America.
Now he lay contemplating the robbery
of Burgomaster Zemcik's house. It seemed
easy to him, so that for a moment he
wondered why he had waited so long to
think of it. 1 could have been out of here
and gone already. he thought. The idea
that he had spent the last few months,
even years, at his old life needlessly, tor-
mented him. He became impatient. It
was as though waiting even mere hours
now, was more than he could bear.
He went over the robbery in his mind.
He knew exactly how he would manage
it, as though he had already done it and
returned. At his side his wife breathed
heavily, with a harsh, nasal sound; be-
hind the partition his child breathed,
stirred. My son, he thought. My son.
The words still sounded strange to him.
Though the child was now more than a
year old, he still had not yet become
accustomed to the idea of being a father.
He lay with his arms folded under his
head, staring up into the darkness.
Through the window starlight fell, a
faint blue neither light nor dark, suffus-
ing the entire room as beyond the trivial
walls, the rough timber and clay thrown
up in haste against the seasons, it suffused
the entire countryside, hill and dale,
brake and brook, so that for an instant
it seemed as though the walls too had
vanished and he lay open to the im-
mense, calm, inscrutable contemplation
of night.
He woke suddenly. One moment he
had been thinking of his son and the
next he had been asleep. He had no
idea how long he had slept. His first
thought was that he had slept through
the night and it was now almost dawn.
1 have ruined everything, he told him-
self quietly, in despair. Yet he rose
abruptly. He flung back the cover and
sat up, fully awake at once, staring
blindly into the darkness. He came im-
mediately off the bed, not waiting for his
eyes to adjust to the dark. He moved like
a blind man across the room to the win-
dow, his hands extended tentatively be-
fore him. Suddenly he was at the window.
Star and spring sky soared before him
in glittering panorama, lighting up the
countryside. By the position of the con-
stellations he knew at once it was only a
little past midnight. Thank God for that
at least, he told himself, letting out his
breath.
By then he could see in the dark. He
dressed quickly, soundlessly. It was quite
cold. The cold seemed to lie along the
floor, the earth, as palpable as water and
about waist high. He began to shiver.
Shivering, he stood a moment over his son
before he left, smoothing the covers the
child threw off in his sleep. For you it
will be different, he said, soundlesily,
addressing the sleeping child. A new life.
He felt at that moment between himself
and the trivial form beneath his hand a
bond of pride and hope and responsi-
bility stronger than anything he had felt
before. He bent and kissed the cotton
cover, where he thought thc child's head
to be. Then he left.
He struck. out directly for the Burgo-
master's house. He did not take the road,
though it was not likely he would meet
anyone on it at this hour. There is
no sense in taking chances, he thought.
He went in a straight line from the back
of his house across a sloping field of
flinty earth and grass and random pines
in which, in daytime, children played,
and into the woods beyond. Looking
once over his shoulder in the direction
of the village, he saw no lights, only a
crazy mosaic of shadow and starlight. It is
as if there is no village at all, he thought.
Yet he heard the dogs halfway to the
Burgomaster's house. He moved at a
fast, steady pace. Не carried a flour sack
rolled into a tight bundle beneath his
arm. He was warm at once, despite the
thin jacket, the sudden spring chill
which would be frost upon window and
leaf by morning. The trees were still
quite bare. Beyond a lattice of boughs
soared a sky wild with stars, and a thin
crescent moon, He did not once lose his
way. He was not conscious of giving direc-
tion any thought, yet he moved unhesi-
tatingly and in a direct line through
woods he would have had trouble keep-
ing his bearing in by day. If he thought
of anything at all it was to remember
that his wife would not be alarmed to
find him gone, since he often rose at
night to sit at the window or before the
house, brooding mutely upon the village,
the countryside, the forlorn and empty
prospect of his fate. But no more, he
thought. That is over. Atthat moment he
felt something closely akin to actual joy.
He emerged from the woods on the
fringe of a plowed field. Again he did
not hesitate. He came out from among
the trees at full tilt, and at full tilt con-
tinued across the field, his face fixed in
ап expression of calm and unshakable
resolve, his jacket flying. Keeping close
to the trees he skirted the field, looking
neither right nor left, and it was only
after he had gone halfway across that he
realized he was on the very field he
worked by day. Of course, he thought.
Then he thought: So this is what it looks
like at night. Yet actually it looked no
different. Only the furrows appeared
deeper, clawed in savage and exactly
parallel rows across the earth; suddenly
there blew upon him the ancient, rank
smell of opened earth. In all he stood
there no more than a moment. Yet be-
fore he resumed he leaned forward and
with unhurried and deliberate calm, he
spat upon the ground.
He had to cross two more fields and a
vale studded with stone outcroppings, in
which only weeds grew and a brook ran,
before he came to the Burgomasters
land. Then he was on the estate itself,
before the house, within a grove of trees
planted in a phalanx about the house
for privacy. From among the trees he
could see the house, bulked, blotting out
a part of the sky, the stars. The house
was in complete darkness. Ahh, he
thought. That had been his one source
of possible concern, that even at such a
late hour someone would still be awake,
the house still lighted. Specifically he
had in mind the housekeeper's son. Some-
times when the Burgomaster left on a
trip he invited friends to the house to
sit in the kitchen until early morning
drinking the Burgomaster’s wine, smok-
ing his cigars. He probably didn't get
enough notice this time, he thought sar-
(continued on page 90)
ficio Ву RAY BRADBURY
a parable of love, satiety, and related delights
А жə
possible
WO rl ds THE TWO MEN SAT SWAYING
side by side, unspeaking for the long while it took for the train to move through cold December
twilight, pausing at one country station after another. As the twelfth depot was left behind, the older
of the two men muttered, “Idiot, Idiot!” under his breath.
“What?” The younger man glanced up from his Times.
The old man nodded bleakly. “Did you see that damn fool rush off just now, stumbling after that
woman who smelled of Chanel?”
“Oh, her?” The young man looked as if he could not decide whether to laugh or be depressed. “I
followed her off the train once, myself.”
The old man snorted and closed his eyes. “I, too, five years ago.”
‘The young man stared at his companion as if he had found a friend in a most unlikely spot.
“Did — did the same thing happen once you reached the end of the platform?”
“Perhaps. Go on.”
“Well, I was twenty feet behind her and closing up fast when her husband drove into the station
with а carload of kids! Bang! The car door slammed. I saw her Cheshire-cat smile as she drove away.
I waited half an hour, chilled to the bone, for another train. It taught me something, by God!”
“It taught you nothing whatsoever,” replied the older man, dryly. “Idiot bulls, that's all of us, you,
me, them, silly boys jerking like laboratory frogs if someone scratches our itch.”
“My grandpa once said, Big in the hunkus, small in the brain, that is man’s fate.”
“A wise man. But, now, what do you make of her?”
“That woman? Oh, she likes to keep in trim. It must pep up her liver to know that with a Ише
mild eye-rolling she can make the lemmings swarm any night on this train. She has the best of all
possible worlds, don’t you think? Husband, children, plus the knowledge she’s neat packaging and
can prove it five trips a week, hurting no one, least of all herself. And, everything considered, she’s
not much to look at. It's just she smells so good."
“Tripe,” said the old man. "It won't wash. Purely and simply, she's a woman. All women are
women, all men are dirty goats. Until you accept that, you will be rationalizing your glands all your
life. As it is, you will know no rest until you are seventy or thereabouts. Meanwhile, self-knowledge
may give you whatever solace can be had in a sticky situation. Given all these essential and inescapable
truths, few men ever strike a balance. Ask a man if he is happy and he will immediately think you are
asking if he is satisfied. Saticty is most men’s Edenic dream. I have known (continued on page 102)
37
PLAYBOY
MILES
jazz By STANLEY GOLDSTEIN
AS MILES DAVIS’ international popularity
grows, so does his reputation as a coldly
arrogant loner, contemptuous of his
audiences and stubbornly insistent on
having his own way in every way. He
wins polls with the ease with which
Thomas Costain diagrams a best seller,
despite the moat he keeps between him-
self and his listeners. After gathering а
pLaynoy award this усаг, Davis topped
the largest of the European jazz popu-
larity contests — that of the British
Melody Maker. “Miles Davis has done
the impossible,” said the frontpage
story. "For the first time in thc history
of the Melody Maher Readers’ Poll,
Louis Armstrong has lost his title as the
World's Top Trumpeter. That honor
now belongs to the diminutive, thirty-
three-year-old Miles.”
Letters to the American trade press
meanwhile complain of Miles’ consistent
refusal to acknowledge applause, his
disconcerting habit of leaving the stand
during his sidemen's solos, and his abso-
lute refusal to announce thc names of
the tunes he plays. Reporters for news-
papers and magazines — with few excep-
tions — find him impossible to interview
and abruptly profane when pressed for
а more cooperative attitude. Club own-
ers despair of getting him to make radio
or television appearances to help pro-
mote his engagements; and fans who ask
for autographs are often likely to be re-
fuscd with raspingly blunt impatience.
Even inside the profession, although
nearly all jazz musicians of his generation
respect him musically, many find him aloof
and enigmatic. One jazz booker, who is on
unusually cordial personal terms with even
those musicians he does not handle, says cate-
gorically of Davis: “Нез basically not а nice
guy. His conversation, when he bothers to talk to
you at all, is made up mainly of insults.” When Davis
PAUL
was beaten bloody last August outside Birdland by a policeman who had asked him to move on, everyone in
jazz was indignant at the police brutality, but a surprising number of musicians and hangers-on were also saying,
“It figures Miles would be the guy that would happen to. Can you imagine what he said when that cop started
telling him what to do?”
The irony of this harsh picture of Davis as an intensely sensitive musician who is in a constant state of prickly
hyperacidity on and off the stand is that the latter half of the portrait is basically not
cactuslike, unapproachable front (or back, as is often the case) to the jazz public; but
true. Miles does present a
(continued on page 78)
the dauntless davis and his horn of plenty
39
members
hold
the
key
to
sophisticated
pleasure
THE PLAYBOY CLUB
pictorial
THE PLAYBOY CLUR — introduced as а coni
in January — is now an exciting, elegant real-
ity. The initial club—in Chicago — has bé-
come, almost overnight, one of the most sing
larly successful, most talked about night spots
in the U.S. The Playboy Key — with the fa-
miliar rabbit emblem stamped upon it — has
become a new and meaningful status s
amongst men of means. No one who is really
IN wants to be without it, for if you are not a
member of the club, and do not hold a
you cannot enter; and "The Playboy Club is a
meeting place for the most important, most
aware, most affluent men of the community
Suitable locations have already been chosen
for clubs on both coasts, and their doors will
be “closed for business” (we cannot say “open”
for business, because the club doors will always
be closed except to members) this fall. There
will soon be Playboy Clubs in major cities
throughout the country, and eventually
throughout the world. But the lock on each
door will be exactly the same and a member's
key will admit him to his dub whether he is
in Chicago, San Francisco, New York, Dallas,
London or Paris. Membership is limited to the
men of substance and influence in each urban
area; the initial fee is fifty dollars, which as
sures membership for life, provided members
break none of the club rules; further informa-
tion about membership may be had by writing
to the magazine.
The establishment of The International
Playboy Glub is our way of recognizing the
Left: the colorful exterior of the first of the Inter-
nal Playboy Clubs, in Chicago. At top ri
а Bunny welcomes key holder ond his guests
into the elite inner sanctum. At right: eoch mem-
ber's name is posted on the boord as he arrives.
Above: rıaysoy Editor-Publisher Hugh M. Hefner surrounded by o dozen of the Playboy
Club's Bunny Girls—omple explanation for the club's populority. Bunnies ore chosen
from oll over the U.S. Right: Bunny June Wilkinson slips off o distracted member's coat;
a bit unwillingly, perhaps, he can move on to the plush club room of his choice, from
the Ploymate Bor below, to the apartment-like Living Room or the upstairs Li
need. on the part of urban men of taste
and sophistication, for a private club
that is as unique and entertaining as
втлувох itself. The Playboy Club is
dedicated to projecting the richly ro-
mantic mood, the fun and joie de vivre,
that are so much a part of the publica-
tion; as rLAvsov has gained a reputa-
tion for being the smartest and most
sophisticated of journals, so The Playboy
Club will be similarly known as a gather-
ing place for these who appreciate this
side of life.
The first Playboy Club is a prototype
of those to follow. There is no name of
any kind outside announcing what lies
within to the uninitiated — only the rab-
bit emblem in black and silver on either
side of the door and stamped upon the
taut white canvas of the canopy. Once
inside, the member finds a warmth and
intimacy, combined with cocktail party
gaicty, that one would expect only in a
private apartment. There is fine food
and drink and entertainment and, of
course, numberless beautiful women —
many of them models and some of them
Playmates from past issues of the maga-
zinc. The girls are called Bunnies and
they're invitingly attired in brightly œl-
ored rabbit costumes, complete to the
cars and white cotton tails. A Bunny
greets you as you enter and asks for your
key number; then your name is posted
on the members’ board for the time thar
you are in the club, so that friends will
know that you are there. The Chicago
club has three floors to choose from and
there'll soon be a fourth (a replica of
the Playboy’s Penthouse TV set is now
being constructed).
The Playmate Bar, on the first level, is
wannly illuminated by backlit repro
ductions of our most popular gatefold
girls. A stereo high fidelity system to top
all hi-fi systerns — custom-crafted for the
club by Allied Radio of Chicago — fills
the entire premises with disc and паре
sounds from a library of music especially
selected by rLAvmov's editors. The sys-
tem's proportions are as remarkable as
those of the Bunny Girls who man the
controls, one of whom is July 1958 Play-
mate Linné Ahlstrand, whose provoca-
tive personage graces the pin-up wall
nearby. The hi-fi installation is valued at
something over $27,000 and is the most
elaborate custom-built rig in the city; it
includes, among other interesting inno-
vations, a closed-circuit FV with controls
that permit you to catch other members
with the camera, or come in for enter-
taining close-ups on the Bunnies.
"The Living Room, on the second level,
has the relaxed and comfortable decor of
the plushest urban pad. You can join
Bunnies and friends around the piano
bar or take your case in front of the fire-
place; there’s the cozy Cartoon Corner
and, when you're hungry, the elaborate
Playboy Club Buffet. On the third level,
Top: in the warmly paneled Playmate Bar, Publisher Hefner chats with Miami Playmate Joyce
Nizzari. Above: а Bunny takes an order fram а member and his guests at a table in the
Playmate Bar. Below: Bunny Marle Renfra, a model from Hollywood, regulates the direction af
closed-circuit TV far a key halder. Мапе appeared in lost month's feature, The Nude Look.
Above: buxom Bunny Cynthia Moddox pouses as the bortender pours o full ounce-ond-o-half-plus drink for о member. Cynthio works doys in
Bunnies ore selected from omongst PLAYBOY'S most populor Ploymates,
ine hostesses, secretories, for their chorm ond good looks. Below left
PLAYBOY's Personnel Deportment and olso models for the magazine,
models, beouty contest winners (including last yeor's Miss Illinois], oi
on receives a member's phone coll in the club lobby; ond right: the buffet ottendont offers o succulent оггау of tasty мапах.
Bunny June W
in the Playboy Library, you'll find a miniature show of the most sophisti-
cated sort: the romantic ballads of Mabel Mercer, the belting blues of
Mae Barnes and the pixie humor of Professor Irwin Corey entertained
in the Playboy Library the first few weeks after the dub's official "clos
i embers begin filling the club's premises as soon as the busine:
‚ and The Playboy Club swings until 4 AM. — 5 Ам. on Satur-
Members have found it the perfect place for entertaining both
personal and business guests, but most of all, a place where they
themselves feel at home and are able to have a fine and thoroughly
relaxing time — ап escape from the cares of the workaday world into
the easy-does-it scene that is PLAYBOY. Within the next few months,
there will be Playboy Clubs and club franchises established in key cities
throughout the U.S., and we'll bring you reports from time to time on
further developments and doings. Those interested in additional infor-
Above: voluptuous June Wilkinson, known to
PLAYBOY readers as “The Bosom,” leaves no doubt
as to why in Bunny costume, Above right: Annette
Prescott, from Washington, D.C., waits on members
in the Cartoon Comer. Below: с jazz combo cooks mation should direct inquiries to The Playboy Club, % PLAYBOY, 232
and cub members swing wilh it in cozy Living Room. Е. Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois.
A BID FOR IMMORTALITY
fie on shakespeare and khayyém: here is all of man’s knowledge in two simple sentences
article By ROBERT PAUL SMITH
T HAVE ALWAYS HAD A FURTIVE DESIRE to achieve immortality іп
two sentences, or even one. The kind of sentence I mean is,
“To thine own self be true,” or “Never complain, never
explain," or ‘Take the cash and let the credit ро.”
1 figured when I got old cnough and smart enough, I would
utter the sentence or sentences. some young lady in a Grecian
tunic lying at my feet would copy it down, and then it would
either Бе hand-illuminated on a large piece of vellum, chiseled
into a block of granite, or, lately, copyrighted and embossed
оп millions of pieces of plastic to be hung on the walls of
every cultured home.
Back in the Thirties (not mine, the century's) I thought I
had it for a minute or two, aad then Duke Ellington made a
song out of it. “It don't mean a thing if it ain't got that swing.”
On reflection, I am fairly certain I never thought of it until
Duke made up the song. Then a little later on, in a gin mill
in Chicago, a piano player said to me, "Don't get hostile with
yourself.” But he said it, not me. And Satchel Paige said,
“Don’t never look back. Something may be gaining on you,”
and a ball player whose name I don’t know, commenting on
life in general, said, “I figure everything is about seven to
five against.”
The other difficulty, besides Shakespeare and W. C. Fields
and Omar Khayyam and Samuel Buder and the author of
Ecclesiastes saying the good things first, is that I always figured
as I grew older I would know more, but it doesn't seem to
have worked out that way.
1 knew so many things, absolutely, at onc time or another.
Karly on, it was evident to me that no right-minded, more or
less red-blooded, underweight American boy could ask for
more in this vale of tears than a Barlow jackknife. This was
all I knew or needed to know, until I discovered, in succes-
sion, that the secret of true and abiding happiness was a pair
of hunting boots that laced up to the knee, shoe skates, the
complete works of Sax Rohmer, Toby Wing, Bud Freeman's
recording of The Eel, a model A with a rumble seat, the
building of a rational society, the acquisition of large sums of
money, true love, being interviewed by a newspaper reporter,
getting money for talking instead of writing, having the
adoration (in rehearsal) of a company of actors. Some of these
1 got, and some I didn’t (ah there, Toby), but none of them
proved to be the philosopher's stone, and these days I don't
even know what would bring me nirvana if 1 could fetch it.
What has happened, and 1 am sure 1 could have read this
somewhere had I known where to look, is that what | have
acquired as I have grown older is the knowledge that I know
less and less. This is, of course, real knowledge, but nobody
ever told me that.
Well, now that I have almost reached the age where I
almost accept, with considerable bad grace, the fact that young
ladies who look delicious to me have taken to calling me sir,
it seems to me 1 better deliver myself of that deathless sen-
tence while I still believe I know anything-
‘The wisdom I have accumulated then, the only informa-
tion I am absolutely certain of, amounts to two unrelated
sentences. 1 do hereby irretrievably declare: 1. Never order
shirred eggs. 2. Everything takes longer than you think it's
going to.
These sentences would make two plaques. There is no
causal connection between them. I am not saying, “Do not
order shirred eggs because they take a long time to come."
"The only thing the two aphorisms have in common is that
1 utter them and I know them both to be true.
I ordered shirred eggs the first time 1 saw them on a menu
because I love eggs, and 1 envisioned shirred eggs as some-
thing like, I suppose, shirred curtains. I believe shirred cur-
tains are like the ones in the houses of my boyhood, thin
translucent white material, with little dots of opaque material,
sort of corrugated from top to bottom, although corrugated
is a hard word for what I really think of as ruffled, but then
1 do not really know what ruffled means, and though I think
of the material as dotted Swiss, I equally do not know what
dotted Swiss is. But you see, what I expected from a shirred
egg was a kind of very light ruffled egg. The first shirred eggs
were a terribly hot sort of shiny white leather.
The second time I ordered them, 1 suppose I thought that
the first ones had not been correctly cooked. And then from
time to time 1 ordered them because the word shirred, as
always, unhinged my brain.
It has taken thirty-odd years. I know now that shirred eggs,
correctly cooked, are terribly hot and like white leather. The
chef hasn't goofed. That's what shirred eggs are. So do not
order them.
Now, about everything taking longer than you think it's
going to. It takes longer to write, “I will not put blotting
paper in the inkwell,” a hundred times on the blackboard
than you think it's going to. It takes longer than you thought
possible for anything in the world until you wait for an order
of sneezing powder to come through the mail from the novelty
supply house you trusted to ship it at once. To sell one hun-
dred and fifty packets of bluing to get a magic lantern takes
longer than a whole summer, which you had always previously
thought was the longest time in the world. At one time it
had seemed to me that nothing took longer than to graduate
from short pants to knickerbockers, until I waited to get from
knickerbockers to long pants. Is there anything longer than a
high school graduation address? Yes, there is: a college com-
mencement address.
Is there a time that exceeds the wait in the outer office for
news about your first job? Not until you get fired and start
looking for your second job. Short of eternity, you think no
more time can pass than the time it takes for that girl to say
“Yes, 1 will." And then you sweat out the eon that passes
until she says “Ко, I'm not.”
Well, there you have it. All of knowledge in two sentences.
And please don't tell me about a place you know where the
shirred eggs are delicious. I haven't got the time to go through
it all again.
н
45
THE Gol FER
хочхута
attire
just this
side of
black tie
The,
Elegant
Ensemble,
GENTLEMEN, BE SUITED — and
be suited most elegantly. This
fellow's best bib and tucker
works winningly for those spe-
cial occasions that don't quite
call for a dinner jacket, yet
demand more than a business
suit. His careful selection of
suit and accessories gives him
а cosmopolitan look that is
thoroughly distinguished and
eminently correct. His black
suit jacket boasts a small
amount of shoulder construc-
tion and a slight indentation
at the waist reflecting the in-
. fluence of London's Savile
Row tailors; peaked split-
shawl collar, threebutton
front, half-cuffed buttonless
sleeves; plain-front narrow
trousers, by Petrocelli, $125.
Pearl-gray wool weskit, lined
in white, by Currick & Leiken,
$13. White-on-white cotton
dress shirt with tucked-panel
front, moderatespread short-
point collar, French cuffs, by
Van Heusen, $6. Olive Italian
silk tie, by Peacock Ltd., $6.50.
PHOTOGRAPHED FOR PLAYBOY AT THE
FOUR SEASONS RESTAURANT IN NEW YORK
50
how теп who
make money with
money work parlays
in real estate,
raiding —and the
25 percent tax
article By RALPH GINZBURG
CAPITAL GAINSMANSHIP
“WHEN I CLEAN THE BASTARDS OUT, THE STOCK GOES Ur. What I want is the Capital Gains." With this simple
credo, Alfons Landa, a Washington investor whom Fortune magazine regards as the craftiest proxy fighter
in the nation, has crystalized for posterity the principal objective of many American financial tycoons in
the year 1960.
Realtor William Zeckendorf might not саге to have his name mentioned іп the same breath with that of
Louis Wolfson, a man who has been branded by his detractors as a company raider. Nor might auto man
Henry Ford П necessarily relish having his name linked to that of Howard Hughes, whom a former associate
has described as “the spook of high finance.” Yet a common bond does exist among these men, as it does
among them all and bastard-eradicator Landa, in their determined drive through the only major fencehole
left in the Federal Income Tax structure: the Capital Gains tax.
For Capital Gains tax is virtually the only gimmick left by which a man who amasses a fortune may hold
onto it despite today’s altitudinous personal income taxes. Taxes on personal income, as toilers who earn
over $100,000 a year are especially aware, can chew away as much as 91 percent of earnings. But Capital
Gains tax may never exceed 25 percent, no matter how many millions of dollars are involved, and often the
tax is lower. Го qualify for this tax bonanza, all you need do is hold onto an investment for six months
plus onc day (or more). You have contributed to the growth of your country’s economy, and your patriotism
and vision are rewarded by this preferential tax rate. Sell out in exactly six months (or less), however, and
the government regards you as a speculator, or even a dirty-money man, and you are subjected to the same
tax rates that apply to most salaried Americans. Many experts, including Senate Banking Committee Mem-
ber J. W. Fulbright, consider this tax disparity rank discrimination.
Naturally, the scramble by investors in all fields to get in on this good thing has led to much confusion
over the precise definition of Capital Gains. Broadly stated, however, Capital Cain is the increased value
of an investment over a period of time. For example, if Peter Minuit had bad the longevity and good
sense to hold onto bucolic Manhattan Island which he purportedly purchased from the Indians for
$24 in 1626, all of its present $9.4 billion assessed yaluation, less the $24 purchase price, would be
Capital Gains.
Today, the principal beneficiaries of this levy are the real-life Cash McCalls, the Big Money men who
collect huge fortunes with little or no sweat and do so not only with the consent of the law, but with
the encouragement of the Capital Gains provision of the tax law, They are the J. P. Morgans, the Vander-
bilts, the John D. Rockefellers of our generation and they operate spectacularly in two fields, neither of which
is necessarily concerned with creating a better mousctrap. The first of these fields is real estate and the
second goes under the not-so-nice designations of company raiding and proxy fighting.
To be sure, there is another, positive way of looking at proxy fights and company raiding. Often enough,
it is entrenched and conservative — even stultified — big Management which freely and disengenuously cries
“company raid” and imputes vicious practice and vile motives to proxy fighters when a perfectly legitimate
effort is being made to wrest control from a nolonger-competent group, or to transfer control from an
adequate Management to a superior one. In fact, it has been argued with some success that the vitality of the
entire corporate system may depend on occasional proxy campaigns. As in most (continued on page 85)
9
ыы
“Bul, bwana, ше let you watch our fertility rites.”
food By THOMAS MARIO
MORE AND MORE GOURMETS, hitherto shy
about pleasing their palates for fear that
savoir-faire would be more than matched in
avoirdupois, are plunging into gastronomy
with nary a thought to their waistlines.
How come? For one thing, the shelves in
gourmet shops are becoming filled with a
growing variety of low-fuel foods. There
are canned mackerel in white wine, clam
juice cocktail, imported lean canned hams,
Jellied or clear soups from petite marmite
to pheasant broth, Italian bread sticks and
Finn Crisp Thins, low-calorie salad dress-
ings and, above all, canned fruits with no
sugar syrup. Black pitted cherries sweetened
with Sucaryl are hard to distinguish from
the same fruit packed in heavy syrup. And
the flavor of canned pineapple with un-
sweetened juice can be superior to sugar-
laden pineapple, because it's taken from
more mature fruit at the plantation. Simply
including such foods in your menus pro-
vides you with a weight control so auto-
matic that “weight-watching” —a dull pas-
time — can be avoided.
"There's never a need for the sensible
trencherman to fecl that he's depriving him-
self to stay slim. Take the bon vivant's typi-
cal dinner of appetizer, soup, filet mignon,
vegetables, salad, dessert and coffee. This
could be caloric folly if it took the form of
hot puff paste hors d'oeuvres, a French sor-
rel soup, Béarnaise sauce for the filet, Par-
isienne potatoes, cauliflower au gratin,
tossed salad with Thousand Island dressing.
cantaloupe à la mode with fresh peach ice
cream and coffee. But take the same number
of courses, only serve instead a dozen cherry-
stone clams on the half shell, clear green
turtle soup with sherry, filet mignon with
fresh mushrooms, grilled tomato and aspar-
agus, tossed salad with garlic dressing,
cantaloupe à la mode with raspberry sherbet
and coffee — hardly an example of austerity
at the table — and you'll save a cool thou-
sand calories. A great many chaps would
consider the second of the two meals the
magnificent meals high in
flavor and low in calories
PLAYBOY
54
tastier, since the basic flavors of the fine
foods are not hidden behind high-calorie
disguises.
When it comes to the pleasures of
drinking alcoh beverages, the man of
sense and sensibility will discover that,
here again, he may indulge his apprecia-
tion without either depriving himself or
forfeiting his figure. He will learn, for
instance, that vermouth cassis or ver-
mouth on the rocks before a meal — both
negligible in poundage-producing agents
— аге apéritifs in the truest sense of the
word, not only because of their stimulat-
ing icy-bitter tang but also because
they're less filling than many other pre-
dinner drinks.
Should your taste run to bourbon,
vodka, et al., а simple and painless rule
for helping yourself stay slim is to enjoy
these potables in their lower proofs.
Other hints: order tall drinks, with soda
or tonic or low-calorie ginger ale. Beer, a
summer favorite for many, is comfortably
filling, and yet а 12-02 bottle contains
only 150 calories. And gin and tonic, if
you make it with a lower-proof gin, re-
mains one of the most pleasant of sum-
mer refreshments — between, before or
after meals.
Perhaps the happiest part of enjoying
the best without straining the vest is
that low-calorie menus arc often the
most appetizing, as you will soon dis-
cover if you take a crack at any or all of
the following halfdozen regal recipes:
COLD SALMON, TARTAR SAUCE
(Serves four)
4 fresh salmon steaks, 6 ozs. each
1 medium-size onion, sliced
1 piece celery, sliced
bay leaf
juice of half lemon
salt, pepper
% cup low-calorie whipped salad dress-
i
м (cm grated onion
1% teaspoon white wine vinegar
2 dashes "Tabasco
1 tablespoon fincly chopped sour pickle
1 teaspoon finely minced parsley
Pour 2 cups water into a wide sauce-
pan. Add the onion, celery, bay leaf and
lemon juice. Add 1% teaspoon salt and
14 teaspoon pepper. Bring to a boil. Re-
duce flame, and simmer very slowly ten
minutes. Add salmon steaks to the liq-
uid, carefully placing each on the bot-
tom of the pan; they should not overlap.
Cover the pan and simmer ten to twelve
minutes. Let the salmon steaks cool in
their own liquid. Chill in the refriger-
ator. Combine the whipped salad dress-
ing with the remaining ingredients.
Remove salmon steaks carefully from the
liquid, using a wide spatula to keep
them intact. With a small paring knife,
remove skin and center bone. Serve sauce
separately at the table.
Cold fresh salmon fairly cries for a
glass of chilled Rhine wine or Rhine
wine and seltzer. Don't let the cry go
unheeded.
PLAYBOY'S GARLIC FRENCH DRESSING
(One cup)
1 egg
2 teaspoons imported Dijon mustard
% cup red wine vinegar
1 tablespoon salad oil
% cup water
14 cup bread crumbs
И teaspoon chopped fresh garlic
15 teaspoon salt
11% teaspoons sugar
14 teaspoon monosodium glutamate
14 teaspoon white pepper
Put all ingredients in ап electric
blender. Blend at high speed for about
thirty seconds. Chill thoroughly before
serving, Serve with any type of tossed
salad. Store in the refrigerator.
ROUND STEAKS, RUSTIC STYLE
(Serves four)
4 pieces round steak, 14 in. thick, 6
to 8 ozs. cach. (Be sure the beef is
from the round and not chuck or
any other fatty cut.)
salt, pepper
2 cups water
1 envelope instant beef broth
8-02. can tomatoes, coarsely chopped
14 cup minced fresh parsley
4 anchovies, minced
14 teaspoon oregano
14 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce
Heat a Dutch oven or heavy saucepan
over a moderate flame with no fat added.
Sprinkle bottom of utensil with salt.
Brown steaks on both sides. Add remain-
ing ingredients. Bring gravy to a boil.
Reduce Наше so that liquid barely sim-
mers. Cook, stirring occasionally, until
meat is tender, about 2 to 24 hours.
Season to taste. These steaks are excel-
lent when cooked one day, kept in their
gravy and then reheated for lunch or
dinner the next day.
CHILI CON CARNE
(Serves four)
(Chili is conventionally made from
ground chuck of beef, is served in a
soup bowl, and is eaten with a spoon.
Mexicans sometimes call it chili con
gordo, meaning chili with fat. The lean
cube steaks cut into small squares, іп this
recipe, bring the calorie count way down,
although the chili still remains a delici-
ously substantial one«lish meal.)
1% Ibs. cube steaks
1 teaspoon oil
2 teaspoons chili powder
1% teaspoon creole seasoning
8-02. can tomato sauce
2 cups water
no. 2 can red kidney beans
2 teaspoons onion juice
у teaspoon garlic powder
salt
Cut cube steaks into lin. squares.
Brush an electric skillet with oil. Set at
350%. Add the meat and sauté, stirring
frequently, until browned. Add chili
powder and creole seasoning. Add
tomato sauce, water, beans, onion juice
and garlic powder. Bring to a boil. Re-
duce skillet heat to 300°. Continue to
cook, stirring frequently, until meat is
tender and flavors are well blended,
about twenty minutes. Add salt to please
your own palate.
CHICKEN WITH BURGUNDY
(Serves four)
316. frying chicken
1 cup Burgundy-type red wine
salt, pepper
15 cup water
1 envelope instant chicken broth
1 teaspoon onion juice
2 tablespoons tomato paste
4 teaspoon garlic powder
1% teaspoon tarragon
Have the chicken cut into pieces, as
for frying. Soak the chicken in the wine
опе hour. Preheat oven at 425°. Remove
chicken from wine and place it, skin
side up, in a shallow baking pan or casse-
role. Do not use а deep pan, or chicken
will not brown properly. Sprinkle chick-
en with salt and pepper. Combine wine
with water, chicken broth, onion juice,
tomato paste, garlic powder and tar-
ragon, mixing well. Pour liquids over
chicken. Bake the chicken for 1 to 114
hours, basting about cvery ten minutes
with the sauce. If chicken seems to be
browning too rapidly, cover it with alu-
minum foil. Pour sauce over chicken on
serving plates or platter. Don't forget a
glass of Burgundy on the side.
BROCHETTE OF SCALLOPS
(Serves four)
1 Ib. scallops, cut into lin. cubes if
scallops are large
salt, pepper
3 tablespoons catsup
Ye teaspoon soy sauce
1% teaspoon garlic powder
И teaspoon ground ginger
1% cup bread crumbs
2 teaspoons salad oil
paprika
Preheat broiler at 550°. Wash scallops
well. Sprinkle with salt and pepper. In a
mixing bowl combine the catsup, soy
sauce, garlic powder and ginger. Add the
scallops. Mix well so that each piece is
thoroughly coated. Arrange scallops on
skewers. Dip the skewered scallops in the
bread crumbs. Sprinkle with salad oil.
Sprinkle lightly with paprika. Broil un-
til brown, about буе to eight minutes.
After you've tried a few of these delect-
able low-calorie recipes, you should be
convinced that staying slim needn't mean
slim pickin's.
designing playmate
а fabric fancier has the material to become miss august
ASNINY SSIW.
Designing woman Elaine Paul telephonically
receives and notes a customer's request.
WHY DO STUDIO AUDIENCES erupt into
applause when TV personalities an-
nounce the fact that they hail from
Brooklyn? We've often wondered,
but now we're beginning to under-
nd. Treats, if not trecs, grow in
Brooklyn — Elaine Paul bcing one
such. Elaine works in that bustling
borough as a journeyman (well, jour-
neywoman) fabric designer, journey-
ing blithely [rom Greenpoint to
Gowanus in whatever form of loco
locomotion she happens to find
handy. Those who know about such
things say she has a way with perky
patterns, and we — who know about.
certain other things —say that she
herself is woven with a warp and
woof wondrous enough to make her
а memorable Miss August.
PHOTOGRAPHY RY FRA
ЕСЕ
PLAYBOY’S PARTY JOKES
Were just learned а secret method for
returning from Las Vegas with a small
fortune: go with a large fortune.
The haze and warmth of the summer
evening added to the atmosphere of pas
sion on the small lake, deserted except
for а canoe drifting lazily on its surface.
In it, clasped іп close embrace, lay
George and Marilyn, gazing into cach
others eyes and murmuring the special
phrases of lovers.
With a delicious silken rustle that set
the canoe to gently rocking, she pressed
herself still closer to him.
“Georgie,” she sighed,
me always?”
“Of course, my darling,” he whispered
tenderly. “Which way would you like me
to try first?”
1 you love
Our Unabashed Dictionary defines in-
tellectual girl as one who can think up
excuses that her boyfriend's wife will
believe.
Ал executive friend of ours is so dedi-
ated to his work that he keeps his secre-
tary near his bed in case he gets an idea
during the night.
A model we know says she’s looking for
a man who can fill a void in her life —
her empty clothes closet.
One thing that can be said in favor of
going steady is that it gets the young.
sters home and in bed at an early hour.
Doctor Jones was called to examine his
friend Frank, who at sixty-four had mar-
ried a woman less than hall his age. The
doctor noticed that she was an extremely
attractive and voluptuously propor-
tioned girl. After a thorough examin:
tion, he knew that the cause of his
fricnd's illness was exhaustion. He wrote
ption and was preparing to
ус when the patient asked:
“Well, Doc, what's wrong
Am I overweight?”
"No, Frank," answered the doctor
with a sidelong glance at the buxom
young bride, “overmatched.”
h me?
Girls’ dresses have gotten so short we
wonder what the designers will be up to
next,
Hed shown her his ctchings, and just
about everything else of interest in his
apartment and, as Jack poured the last
of the martinis into their glasses, hc
realized that the moment of truth with
Louise had arrived. He decided on the
direct verbal attack.
id smoothly, fingering
т, “do you object to
a lock of her ha
making love?”
She turned her lovely cyes up to hi
“That's something I've never done,” she
said.
"Never made love?" cried Jack, ap-
palled at the waste of magnificent. raw
material.
“No, silly,
“Never objected.
said in soft rebuke.
Ow Un
petizers as іше
lose your appetite.
4 Dictionary defines ap-
ings you cat until you
lis bard to keep а good girl down —
but lots of fun trying.
Heard any good ones lately? Send your
favorites to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY,
232 E. Ohio St, Chicago 11, Ill, and
carn an casy 525.00 for cach joke used.
In case of duplicates, payment goes to
first received. Jokes cannot be returned.
satire By LARRY SIEGEL
MOONLIGHT
OVER
ê HAH HAP OP PALE
where are the movie
musicals of yesteryear?
IN ANY DISCUSSION оп the merits of the
past decade's film musicals, I am always
the first to acknowledge the general ех-
cellence of An American in Paris, It's
Always Fair Weather, Les Girls, Gigi,
Singing in the Rain, et al.
Yet 1 can't help feeling that during its
evolutionary course, the American screen
musical has lost, never again to regain,
a certain endearing quality. For want
of a better word (actually I have many
better words, but why squander them
on an introduction?) I call it "simple-
mindedness.” This quality was most ad-
mirably embodied in the Movie Musical
of the Thirties: a phenomenon com-
posed chiefly of one part college shenani-
gans, one part Dick Powell-Ruby -
er, and one part Fred As nger
Rogers. Aside from an occasional crumb
tossed us by the Late Show, this treasure
chest might lie buried forever.
So on the outside chance that the
recent upheaval in the TV ranks may
engender a new wave of intellectualism
that will destroy forever even these re-
maining morsels, 1 would like to reassem-
ble the three aforementioned parts into
one final grand whole — and then crawl
back gracefully into the woodwork of
my memories.
Fade in on the Campus Sweet Shoppe
of Whattapoppalie College, in Whatta-
poppalie, North Dakota. Seated at a
lable sipping sodas, strumming ukes,
and stealing smooches ате DIXIE DUNBAR,
TOM BROWN, DONNA DRAKE, PIN
LIN, JUNE PREISER and JACK OAKIE. The
latter admittedly (continued on page 98)
гом-
62
CES SSG
Ge rS Re ANE NN
SE UE DO
“You called?’
a man for the 3320 011
“то THE MOON?" 1 sam. I felt the Earth move out from
under me and settle on my shoulders. It was heavy.
“To the Moon,” Marco Garcia said. His voice was thick ayes
with disappointment. “Congratulations, Abner." fiction ву LELAND WEBB
Johnny Ingraham exploded. “То the bloody Moon!" he
shouted. “Abner, my boy, my beamish boy, you'll be in all
the history books!”
But 1 sat and stared bleakly across the desk at Old Hard
Nose Hanrahan. Navy Regs make it plain that an admiral
can't possibly talk bilge to a lieutenant commander, but he
was blowing through a paper bugle.
“To the Moon, Mr. Evans,” he said. He slapped the foot
high stack of manila envelopes, all marked Tor sECRET, with
a slender, bony hand. “The Screaming Mimi has been ready
for two years. It took us almost a year to pick three men,
you, Garcia and Ingraham. We've spent over a year, watch-
ing, weighing, measuring, studying the three of you. But it
was not until this morning that we picked our man. You
kept us waiting a long time, Mr. Evans.
“Sir, I feel very earthy,” I said. “I think I always have. If
1 could choose I would choose not to go. But I suppose
that makes no difference?”
He shook his head. “The Navy is filled with men who
would jump at the chance to go, Mr. Evans,” he said. “But
a daredevil would never make it. Flying the Mimi there is
only half of it; the man who takes her there has got to bring
her back. This is a new kind of beachhead and it takes
another kind of man. Quiet, steady, no dash, no flash. A
man, Mr. Evans, who may not want to go, but who damned
well will want to get back.”
He stood up and we scrambled to our feet. He turned his
back on us and walked to the window.
“Final briefing will be in one hour,” he said. “We feel
that it is best for you not to have too much time to think.
We also feel, Mr. Evans, that for security reasons, it is best
to keep you under close guard. Garcia and Ingraham will
be responsible to me for your safety and for the Navy's
security.”
He turned and faced us. The friendliness was gone from
his face, and he was Old Hard Nose again. “It's in the Navy
wadition to be first,” he said. “Sail us to the Moon, mister.
And then sail us back.”
Before he dismissed us, 1 spoke one more time. “I pre-
sume I will be permitted to call my wife?”
"You may not," he said. "Mrs. Evans, I am sure, has ac-
customed herself to your absence from home, and this will
simply be one more time."
“Very well, sir," I said. And thanks, I thought, for God
knows I have no idea of how to call a wife and tell her that
I am off for the Moon.
We left Old Hard Nose, who had returned to staring out
his window. At the entrance to the Administration Building,
I stopped and looked at the telephone booths.
“Gentlemen and fellow officers," I said. “I have things to
say t0 my wife that can be of no possible interest to ofücers
and gentlemen."
‘They both shook their heads. We walked on out of the
building and cut across the quadrangle. The sun was hellish
bright and everything seemed more real, more actual, than
usual. Along the way I saw a bird on the lower limb of a
mimosa tree. He was a small, ordinary brown fellow and so
still I had to look twice to be sure he wasn't plastic. He was
not singing and 1 nodded to him in appreciation of his tact.
Marco and Johnny also held their tongues. The three of
the trick was to find a guy
who wanted to get back to earth m
PLAYBOY
us had been together for two years, put-
ting the Mimi through her paces, and in
two years you learn when a man wants
nothing from you but silence. And be-
cause it was me, and not them, I was in
a sullen, senseless rage, as if somehow
they had connived against me.
If you were to say to Marco Garcia,
“Take the Screaming Mimi to the
Moon, and blow it up,” he would have
looked at you out of unblinking, sloe-
black eyes, and said, “When do I leave?”
And if you were to say to Johnny In-
graham, “Kid, take this damned crate
and head for the Moon," he would let
out a squall of laughter you could have
heard for a mile. Johnny never objected
to a joke simply because he was the
victim of it.
And neither of them was married to
Della. Johnny had never gotten around
to marrying, and Marco was tied to
а dyed-inthewool, pluperfect bitch.
Neither one of them knew what it was
like to have Della walk up to him and
зау "I love you," in her special way of
saying it, as though it was something
she had invented just for you.
When we reached the Senior BOQ,
I was in a cold sweat. "There was a buzz-
ing confusion in my ears. If 1 had been
asked right then and there if Lincoln
had been shot or run to death, I
couldn't have answered. At the door to
their room I turned and said, "I don't
care what you men do, so long as I
don't see you or hear you.”
Marco nodded, and Johnny said,
"OK, Ab, but please don't dose the
door."
I went and lay down on the bunk.
I made myself stop thinking about
Della. I thought about the Moon. In
less than sixty minutes, I would have
my final briefing, and then they would
seal me into the Screaming Mimi. "The
time element. was sound. If you are go-
ing to do it, it's a good idca not to have
much time to think about it.
But the more I thought of it, the less
I thought of it. Unless science is wrong,
апа instead of rock and rubble the
Moon was a big green cheese, highly
nutritious and an effective cure for
coughs and colds and tightness around
the chest, it was no good to anybody.
Not. even for romance, especially not
for romance. The first real date 1 had
with Della, we parked the car out on
Dame's Point. There was no moon and
the inside of the car was a dark and
cozy cave. Inside of fifteen minutes
matters had progressed to where по
further progress could be made — not
without a marriage license. And on our
honcymoon, not only was the Moon
away on a seventy-two-hour pass, but
the rain beat softly on the roof, the
lovingest sound a newlywed couple ever
heard.
The Moon and Della, then Della and
the Moon, my mind swung from one to
the other, and there was no way out.
There are only two things I know to
do about a problem — solve it or take
a snooze and forget it. There was no
solution to this one, so I closed my
eyes and began the long, sweet dive
into the great big nothing where there
are no problems.
And 1 heard somebody somewhere
say, clearly and distinctly, “Friend, re-
member Peralonzo Niño.
“T don’t see how in hell I can,” 1
said. “How can I remember somebody
I never heard of?"
I opened my eyes. The room was
much dimmer — a rain cloud obscuring
the sun, 1 figured. Marco or Johnny
was sitting in the easy chair by the win-
dow, and I started to say “I told you
to stay the hell out of here,” and then
1 saw the beard and knew it wasn't
either of them.
He spoke before J did. "I am Pera-
lonzo Nifio," he said.
“By golly, you certainly are," I said.
I saw no reason to doubt him. He was
а small, spare fellow, with сусз as sad
as a jilted spaniel.
He leaned forward. “Today we sail,”
he said. “We sail on an ocean of noth-
ing, toward nothing, on the word of a
fool whose arithmetic is poor beyond
belief.”
“What are you talking about, buddy?”
I said. “And how in hell did you get
past the guards?”
He shrugged and spread his hands.
“We sail on the hour,” he said. "Оп the
hour, I kiss Mercedes farewell, and al
ready she is big with child. If I could
choose 1 would choose not to go, but
I am not given the choice. My mind
was troubled and I went to sleep and
I heard a voice say, "Chink of Abner
Evans," and I woke up."
I raised up on one elbow. “What do
you do, Peralonzo, when you're work-
ing?" I asked and knew the answer
before he told me.
"I am Peralonzo Мійо of Palos," he
said with great dignity. "And against my
will and better judgment, 1 am the pilot
of the Santa Maria."
“Well, hell, buddy," I said. "I used
to have an old bat of a history teacher,
Miss Dunstable, and she used to yap
about how brave and absolutely fear-
less you guys were to sail those little
beat-up cockleshells across an unknown
ocean."
He spat. "Miss Dunstable, then, is a
bigger fool than Colón. And the Santa
Maria is no cockleshell, but the finest
ship afloat. But I am not brave. I am
a sailor, and this ocean is beyond my
knowledge and I am afraid 1 will never
return to Mercedes, who is my life, my
soul."
I started іп to tell him that he had
no problem, that voyage across the At-
lantic was a big success, but stopped.
"Peralonzo, buddy, I'm sorry but 1
don't know," I said. "I was just in the
middle third of my class at John Gorrie
Junior High, and Гуе forgotten nine
tenths of the little bit I learned.”
I was ashamed. He was а nice guy,
fouled up with History with a capital
H, just like I was, and I couldn't help
him any more than he could help me.
I knew that Columbus had made it
across the Atlantic and back, but for
all I knew Peralonzo’s bones were
buried on San Salvador or on the bot-
tom of the ocean.
50 I did the only thing I could do.
I told him where I was going. I told
him to help him, to show him that
compered to my voyage, his was just
nothing, just nowhere at all When 1
had finished he nodded his head.
“We stew in the same pot,” he said.
“But you have the advantage. You know
where you are going and what you will
encounter. And Hanrahan's arithmetic
is better."
“Well, hell, из no lead-pipe cinch,”
1 but I couldn't argue with this
guy. "You're right, Peralonzo, it's the
same damned mess"
"Because there is Della," he said, and
yawned. “Señor, if you return, kiss her
for me, and call her Mercedes.”
“And if you return, give Mercedes a
smooch, and call her Della,” I said.
The yawn was contagious. “So long,
Peralonzo, and good luck, kid.”
From a long way off, 1 heard him
sigh and say, “Vaya con Dios, sefior."
I was not sorry to go back to sleep.
Peralonzo was 2 good egg, I enjoyed
talking to him, and I wondered how he
made out back there in 1492. But сусгу-
thing was getting fuzzy and blurry and
I let it go.
Then Della said, "Why don't you
bring me a bunch of flowers from the
Moon? You know I like flowers.”
"Della, there ain't any damned flowers
on the Moon," I said. "It's just a bunch
of rock and rubble and green cheese.
"Oh, ipskiddy, ickyrah," she said. “I'll
bet pocket handkerchiefs grow up there.
They'll grow anywhere.”
“15 a pocket handkerchief a flower?”
Т asked.
"Is а snapdragon an animal?" she
asked.
Putting it that way, it scemed reason-
able, and I could see the fields of pocket
handkerchiefs, snowy white with blue
borders and tiny monograms in one cor-
ner. It would be a lot of trouble look-
ing for Ds, but Della was worth it.
"OK, Mercedes,” I said. “ГИ bring
you a yard of them."
She began to shake me. "Wake up,
Abner. What are you talking about?
Who is this Mercedes woman, anyway?"
I opened my eyes. She was sitting on-
the bed by me. A flourish of trumpets
and a rapid tattoo of drums struck up
(concluded on page 89)
THE
CONTEMPORARY
LOOK IN
г CAMPUS
i». ® CLASSICS
уж.
- -
»
е
attire By ROBERT L. GREEN =.
4
THERE IS A “LOOK” that you
will see on campuses across
the country this fall that
is the mark of the in-
telligently-dressed un-
dergraduate. The look
does not require a lot of
loot (though it is a rich look);
what it requires is that the basic
items of your wardrobe — slacks,
sports jackets, suits and outer-
coats — be chosen with a careful
eye to details of cut and fabric.
Таке outercoats. Call them what
you will: stadium coats, car coats,
suburban coats, or just plain coats.
‘The contemporary look in these
campus classics requires a length
from 38 to 40 inches. Horse-
Guy up top sports о сапуаз“Роаг” coat
with wool-foced lining ond hood, hefty
zipper, buttons and snap-closing bottom
ond cuffs, by McGregor, $60. Left:
short plaid coat with olpaca lining and
collar, four-bution front, by Woolrich, $40.
хан
| а. icu
blanket plaids ате galloping into fall — as linings іп both coats and jackets, as shells for
pullovers, as the other side in reversible jackets and coats. Also, what started as a strictly
inside story of outerwear is now coming out strongly in front —as fur-like shawl collars
and hood linings in synthetic piles. Some of the pile fabrics are breaking into patterns —
district checks, Argyle plaids and glens are just a few.
There are two views to the outerwear picture: one, a more dressed-up look featuring
classic British military tradition; the other, a more rugged look that shuns gimmicks or
frills of any sort. Hoods are a natural for the latter, as are the more rough-hewn fabrics and
liners including shearlings, corduroys and wool tweeds. In most of the coats, the shawl
collar is the odds-on favorite, either in bulky knit or fur-like piles.
Rainwear is more dressed-up than ever, with Continental detailings making their mark:
shorter lengths, boldly stitched yokes, flapped pockets, deep side vents. Iridescents and
patterns are both first rate. Very new and right is Orlon-
wool rainwear and hopsack weaves. A great choice
for a truly classic look is a reversible gray
wool and oyster white cotton raincoat,
appropriate for almost any color
combination and the
perfect solution for avoiding clashes with patterns and colors of
the new country suits. The comfortable tweedy look of the
sports jacket has been used to develop this country suit,
which comes in a wide range of fabrics — Shetlands, whip-
cords, hopsackings, cheviots and corduroys. Colors are
compound and generally muted in tone. Patterns are
classic: herringbones, district checks, glens and over-
plaids. The vest is either matching or a solid co-
ordinated or contrasting color — but it is always
there. The British influence has been strong
in these suits — you'll spot it in the slight
indentation at the waist of the jacket, the “2
longer length of the jacket, as well as the
inclusion of a center vent, three but-
tons and flapped hacking pockets.
In the sportswear department,
the look is away from the very
casual toward a more dressed-
up, though always comfort-
able, appearance. Colors
dwell on the homespuns —
bronze, olive, mustard, gold,
taupe, rust and beige —all
of them forming the base of
(concluded on page 109)
Far left: correct contemporary
look in undergraduate duds
starts with а mixed heather
Scottish wool sports jacket with
natural shoulders, three buttons,
by Mavest, $40, worn with
worsted flannel trousers with plain
front, belt loops, by George W.
Heller, $30. Left: the guzzler likes
a glen ploid jacket with three-
button cutaway front, side vents,
flap pockets, by Chester Laurie, $50,
coupled with Orlon and wool worsted
wash-and-wear trousers with plain
front, by Seven Seas, $13. Right: с
Scottish wool tweed “English Coat"
jacket in a herringbone pattern, with
flared bottom and indentation at the
waist, deep center vent, hacking
pockets and collar tab, by Cricket-
eer, $45, with wool worsted flannel
trousers with a buttoned extension
waistband, adjustable Velcro side
tabs, by YMM-Jaymer, $18. Far
right: doffing his reversible wool-
cotton gabardine “Country” coat
with bal collar and raglan
sleeves, by Woolrich, $32, our
aptly-attired undergrad is
right as rainin his wool
worsted "English" plaid suit,
with longer jacket, natural
shovlders, deep center vent
апа hacking pockets; trousers
have belt loops and plain front;
motching vest; by Cricketeer, $80.
DRAWINGS BY АШАМ PHILLIPS
PLAYBOY
he (Cas
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ITS BEEN AWFULLY BERNARD. Wow! pm SHE
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THING GOOD RIGHT NOW. THE OFFICE. Т SWEAR ГМ NOT THEU NEVER WAIT TO HEAR.
= SOMETHING TO BUILD UP GOING 70 STAND FOR MUCH МУ sıpe. JUDGE! JUDGE!
Ми PRIDE - M4 SELF MORE OF ІТ. I DESERVE JUDGE WHEREVER аро TORN
ESTEEM SOME CREDIT. SOMEBODY'S SITTING IM JUDE-
175 JUST ИКЕ IÑ I HAO NO IDEA
THAT MOVIE TONIGHT (00 WERE SOCH
A PASSIONATE =
WHEN FRANK SINATRA
SAID TO —
PERSON.
70
pictorial
a sensuous look at italy's
most voluptuous export
sophia
the
sultry
Stunning Sophio Loren: obove, os on un-
droped, unpolished extro-spedial ехно in
one of her first movie roles and, left, as
Hollywood's current curves-and-cleovoge queen.
71
HEN SOPHIA LOREN, a modern-day Aphrodite, first invaded
Hollywood in 1957 to sign a two-million-dollar film con-
tract, she blinked her sultry green eyes at reporters and
sighed, “Do you think America will understand I?” Even
blasé newsmen were moved to dissolve her doubts. It was a
storybook day for the earthy Italian actress with the unforget-
tably opulent figure: just ten years before, as fifteen-year-old
Sophia Scicolone, she was living a drab existence in a crumby
Naples suburb, "the scarecrow of a girl buried in poverty," as
she recalls. А year later, padded properly by pasta, she first
began to inspire second glances. Her mama turned a set of
window curtains into a dress; in it, Sophia won a Naples
beauty contest. Burning for fame, mother and daughter
turned up in Rome as extras in Quo Vadis. Producer Carlo
Ponti (to whom she's now married) sensed her natural, animal
charms and nailed Sophia for her first starring role, in Africa
Under the Sea. Producers, directors, actors and panting fans
cheered for her success. She starred in Aida; then, as the tide of
interest in her rose still further, in twenty Italian films in three
years. She wriggled and slinked in her own special fashion,
hugged a slew of hungry heroes and blithely bared her boun-
tiful bosom. Hollywood took notice and Sophia found her
sensuous self caressing the likes of Frank Sinatra, Alan Ladd,
ОКЕ
АЯ]
144
[4
Left above: Sophia pays tribute to her favorite men’s magazine Бу
knitting the familiar rabbit pattern into socks for some lucky play-
boy. Left: in center of harem scene, а bare-breasted Sophia lolls
and beckons in one of her early European films, It Was He — Yes, Yes.
Above: Sophia's bountiful endowments are apparent as she emerges
from the sea, soaked and superlatively sensuous, in Boy on a Dolphin.
Below: in а pose for the ғідүвоу camera, Sophia manages to
appear both sedate and sexy, a feat she can accomplish with-
out exertion. The tall, classically curvaceous creature has
shown that she can be soulful and seductive, on standard or
wide screens, in costume epics or back-street romances, in
Italian or English, simply by being her naturally tempting self.
-
9
74
John Wayne, William Holden.
Cary Grant and several other
soundstage stalwarts. The wide,
inviting lips, the Saracen-like
eyes, the full-blown figure (she’s
5 feet, 8 inches tall, with a 38-
inch chest) combined to deco
rate this stunning Italian gift to
the world. As an actress she has
progressed, too. The 1958 Ven-
ice Film Festival award for her
performance in Black Orchid
saluted “a tour de force accom-
plishment by an actress who
only recently was known main-
ly for her physique.”
Her physique in itself, of
course, is sufficient to delight
connoisseurs— as our delecta-
ble dossier of photographic
highlights from her career clear-
ly indicates. Whether writhing
voluptuously through a harem
scene, emerging languorously
from the sea, perching prettily
on a chair or lingering entic-
ingly in a pool, Sophia is always
a splendid sight. From a skinny
teenager known to her Naples
neighbors as Stécchétta — the
toothpick — Sophia has grown,
literally and figuratively, into
the VistaVision vision who now
channs Clark Gable in the just
released It Started in Naples
Indeed, it did
Top: Sophia sashaying across а
film set is an irresistible sight.
Right: the earthy star is made
still earthier — with real earth
-for The Legend of the Lost.
Sophia іп scenes from Two Nights with Cleopatra. Later in her career, she bathed тоге demurely in The Pride and the Passion.
In her latest flick, Sophia perks up It Started in Naples with singing as well as sex, winning co-star Clark Gable along the way.
In this scene, she's being studiously admired by а dedicated cafégoer — and looking tastier than ever to her legion of devotees.
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PLAYBOY
78
MILES
he is an unusually warm, spontaneously
generous and witty friend to those few
he allows to know him after hours. “I’ve
neyer been able to understand,” says а
long-term acquaintance, jazz critic and
writer Nat Hentoff, “the pervasive image
of Miles as a sour misanthrope. I know
few people who get as much pleasure out
of life as he does and fewer who are as
stimulating to be with.”
“It may seem too pat an explanation,”
adds a combo leader who has been a
close friend of Miles’ for almost fifteen
years, “but Miles is extremely shy. Like
all of us, he only has a certain amount of
energy, and he finds it difficult to meet
new people. Rather than subject himself
to what is for him a tiring discomfort, he
tries to create so forbidding an image of
himself that he won't even be botherct
Davis, however, is not only shy but he
nurtures past wounds and takes elabo-
rate care to protect himself emotionally.
What particularly prolongs his tenacity
in keeping to himself are his memories
of several bitter years in the not too re-
mote past. "Sure," says jazz singer-song-
writersatirist Babs Gonzales, who is а
sharply intelligent observer of the jazz
scene underneath his sharp harlequining,
“Miles came from a prosperous, upper-
middle-class home and was even spoiled
a little as a boy so that there doesn’t
seem to be any reason for the suspicion
he has toward people. But he knew some
grim times before all this success. For
one thing, when he was strung out on
the habit — and he's one of the very few
who broke it completely without treat-
ment — he was desperate enough to fall
in with some pitiless people. Some ex-
ploited him musically and the hoods
who ran onc club in New York used to
beat up on him and Bud Powell and
others. Miles has always been a proud
man, and while they didn’t break him,
they hurt him for a long time.”
“Hell,” says a normally sympathetic
club owner, “I don't care what his per-
sonality problems are. You can talk about
art, but jazz is still show business. You
don’t have to wave a handkerchief or
show your teeth like Louis Armstrong to
let the audience know you care what
they think.”
Yet the same owner, and others, admit
that despite Miles' seeming disregard for
his audiences, few jazzmen attract such
tenacious loyalty from their listeners.
"The more he ignores them," says one
musician enviously, “the more often they
come back." The explanation isn't es-
pecially difficult. For one thing, Miles"
music is so uniquely personal and seduc-
tive that most listeners, once accustomed
to the distance Miles sets up between
himself and them, are content to come
for the music alone. It's not as if they
could say, "Let Miles be by himself;
(continued from page 39)
we'll go hear another combo in the same
groove." There is only one Miles, and
his groups inevitably take on a distinc-
tive musical personality that is molded
by him.
here is no other modern trumpet
player with so penetrating а lyrical sense.
Art Farmer comes close, but Farmer's
lyricism is not nearly so intense nor so
intractably loncly. There is also the rest
of Davis’ “conception,” а term musicians
use to cover all the aspects that differen-
tiate one player's interpretation of а
song from another's. Davis has attained
such wide popularity in part because
there is no mistaking his sound and style.
Among the elements that separate him
so clearly from his contemporaries are
the spareness of his work — а factor that
alo involves an imaginative use of
space —and the incisive strength of his
rhythmic approach. Many other trumpet
players swing “hard” but practically no
one else is able to combine, as Davis
does, exceptional subtlety with a deci-
siveness of beat that fuses rhythm sec-
tions into unparalleled unity.
Davis’ time, moreover, is far from
metronomic. It's unusually fluid while al-
ways implying a steady pulsation. Miles,
in short, reaches not only the in-group
“hipster” audience but a wide range of
people who often become intimidated
by what they feel to be the insistently
aggressive, high-speed stunt flying of
many other modern trumpeters. Miles
is modern without being either self-
consciously "funky" or forbiddingly
"technical."
There are also listeners who derive 2
degree of vicarious satisfaction in watch-
ing the consistency of Miles’ noncon-
formity. "Man," I've heard a number
of apprentice anti-squares say admir-
ingly of Davis, "isn't he cool?" These
are people who come to see him in ex-
pectation of his walking off the stand
when others solo, ignoring requests, and
otherwise making clear his total disin-
clination to “project” іп any other way
than musically. In addition, a sizable
percentage of the women in a Davis
audience find his apparent unapproach-
ability challengingly attractive, and 1
expect some vivid daydreaming goes on
among many female listeners when Miles
appears on stand. In general, the fact
that Davis is as singular in his on-stand
behavior as he is in his music may well
be a growing clement in his drawing
“They may get dragged with
" says a former sideman, “but they're
always waiting to see what he does—
and what he doesn't do. They might
even get more bugged if Һе suddenly
smiled at them and bowed to their
applause. Then, it just wouldn't be
Miles."
In any case, to those with whom he'll
actually communicate, many of Davis’
seemingly disdainful public attitudes
turn out to be not entirely what they
seem. “I get off the stand during a set,"
he said recently, “because when I'm not
playing, there's nothing for me to do.
It’s ridiculous for me to just stand there
and make the other guys nervous look-
ing at them while they solo. And if 1
don't look at them, what's the point of
my standing up there and looking at the
audience? They're not interested in me
when somebody else is taking a solo.
I don't announce the numbers because
I figure the people who come to hear us
know everything we play. We have a
new record about every three months,
and they sell, so the audiences must
know what's on them. A lot of musi
cians think the public is stupid, but the
audiences know what's happening. It’s
like the public 15 blamed because ТУ
shows are so bad, but hell, what choice
do they have in what to watch?"
Davis finds it difficult to understand
the controversy over his nonacknowl-
edgment of applause. “Look, if I go to
a club and hear a good friend take a
solo that I like, I don’t applaud him.
It’s silly. I had a girlfriend once who
always used to look at me as if I should
applaud her. Hell, if she didn’t know
I liked her, that was her problem. I
don't mind if the guys in the band bow
and all that, but I figure Ги doing the
best I can with my horn, and anybody
out front who has ears knows that. What
am I there for if not to uy to make
people like what I’m doing? I have to
bow, too? I pay attention to what counts
— the music. People should give me
credit for that. I try to make sure they'll
have something to applaud. After all, Г
don't have the reputation of bringing a
sad band into clubs, do I?"
"Miles is sensitive all right to whether
an audience appreciates him and the
band," says a former sideman. “Оп
nights when nothing was happening,
he'd whisper, “They're dead out there,’
and he'd be bothered."
Davis is also puzzled at being ex-
pected to do promotion for the clubs at
which he appears. "A woman called me
up in Detroit to do а ТУ show." Не
shakes his head in wonder at her ar-
rogance. "She said everybody who'd
played that club did the show for scale.
1 told her I got several thousand dollars
for doing a TV show for CBS, and I'm
supposed to do this one for thirty dol-
lars? Besides, 1 don’t believe that you
have to push. People either like what
you're doing or they don't. If they don't,
ТЇЇ know it, and no amount of publicity
is going to help.
“Then they tell me," Davis’ exaspera-
tion mounts as he liss the demands
made of him, "that I should meet all the
local celebrities and be nice to them.
(continued on page 104)
FRITZ WEAVER, GEORGE С. SCOTT, ROBERT MORSE: three for the shows
/
Т А SNEERING PROFESSIONAL VILLAIN, A DEDICATED CLASSICIST, AND А BABY-FACED COMIC
NE actor are popping up in the cocktail chatter of stage-struck folk these days. The
villain, George С. Scott, dourly dominating this photograph's foreground, recently
starred on Broadway in The Andersonville Trial and was an Oscar nominee for his job as the prosecuting
attorney in Anatomy of a Murder. No stranger to laurel wreaths, he’s copped the Clarence Derwent, Vernon
Price, Daniel Blum and O.B. (Off Broadway) awards, last year heard the satisfying sound of a critic shouting
“A star is born!” when he appeared with Dame Judith Anderson in Comes a Day. His mouth a surgical slash,
his livid face a chunk of unfinished sculpture, on stage he is volatile, fiery, near-manic, a fountain of eruptive
words and secretive glances — and, thus, a natural for Richard 111, which he sensationally title-roled in a Central
Park production early in his short career. At thirty-two, sinister Scott is twice-divorced and until recently a busy
drinker, now scorns the sauce because (he says, eyes narrow and flashing) “I'm tired of waking up to lost morn-
ings, fouled-up opportunities, wasted time and energy."
The relaxed chap whose stereotypically actorish looks are modeled sharply in the stage-door light of lower
Manhattan's Phoenix Theatre is Fritz Weaver, now that theatre's resident star. Quiet, dignified, seeming older
than his thirty-four years, he is a stable citizen, family man and scholar who moves securely from one great
classical role to another (Peer Gynt, Henry IV, Hamlet). Deeply interested in all acting media, his classical bent
does not make him snobbish about appearing on Playhouse 90, The Twilight Zone and in other TV drama slots.
His Broadway experiences have been less happy because the plays (Miss Lonelyhearts, Protective Custody) were
turkeys although Weaver was applauded. Ask him about The Method, and he says, “It’s valid — if you're inter-
preting a contemporary playwright and have to search for motivation. But the classic authors hand you the
motivation on a platter, so with them The Method is not as necessary.” Weaver worries about what has been
called the “spiritual” quality of his acting, because it sounds stuffy, which he is not. Candid, direct, he projects
the attitude of a student to whom each new role is another step in self-education. Though viewed and reviewed
as the most polished of pros, he regards himself as a man more than willing to learn.
At the curtain calls for the Broadway hit musical, Take Me Along, there is no doubt about who the audience,
if not the billing, has singled out as star. There's solid applause for veterans Jackie Gleason, Walter Pidgeon and
Eileen Herlie, of course — but a shattering wave of enthusiasm and love sweeps the house at the emergence of
the twenty-eight-year-old who plays the show's addled adolescent and whom you see pouting here on the fire
escape: Robert Morse, An extroverted young bachelor who is constantly “on” and within five minutes has new
acquaintances doubled up at his rapid-fire anecdotes and mimicry, Morse got his Broadway break four years ago
when he auditioned for the juvenile role in the Ruth Gordon starrer, The Matchmaker, was curtly told "Don't
call us, we'll call you,” and — happy ending — they did. The role carried him to Hollywood where he repeated
it opposite Shirley Booth; then it was back to New York for the part of the boy producer in Say, Darling. A hard
worker, bubbly, boyish Bob Morse is indebted to Take Me Zlong's Jackie Gleason who, early in the run, told
him “You're throwing away a laugh there, kid," and showed him how to deliver a certain line to milk the
maximum response. It became the biggest laugh in the show.
79
"Fake it" “I made a deal with the Essex: they pay. ту
i s filled.”
rent and 1 keep their тоот.
CUTIES
the curvaceous creations of an incomparable cartoonist
When, two years ago, the untimely death of Jack Cole cost PLAYBOY
one of its most talented staff members, the loss was
immeasurable, for no one brought more fun and wit to our pages.
His humor was broad and could be biting; he also had
an ability to create women, in his glowing water colors, whose beauty,
bounty and sauciness were unparalleled. In fond tribute to
Cole, we've gathered together a group of his girls from the past. Age has
not hurt their voluptuous hilarity, and you may
find, as we did, that they're still among your favorite females.
“Damn Patou! Damn Dior! Damn Paris!”
81
қ
COLES
CUTIES ш л e
(continued) К
“He wants to make an honest
woman of me. He asked
те to return the mink coat.”
“Ohio casts fifty-seven —
make that fifty-eight votes for .. .”
Et ee
P
“You've got a pretty fair line-up here, Abdul, but the trouble
is, you lack depth. Now, if I were you I'd trade off one or
two of your veterans for some promising young rookies. That
way you'll have plenty of reserve strength in case any of your
first stringers give out and have to lay off for a while.”
Ribald Classic
A new translation from Gerolamo
Parabosco’s I Diporti
Suse
seen before. He came slowly to his feet
and his eyes were wroth. His hand went
to his stiletto. “Woe unto youl” he
eta
un
и:
А TRYST OF FATE
А HANDSOME MATRON, having no place in
which to meet her young lover, rented
a room in a house of pleasure and met
him there whenever her husband, an
aging and pompous silk merchant, was
out of the city. All that was necessary to
summon her lover was to send word to
him by the old proprietress of the house.
One day, that old woman, having
found the lover and given him the usual
message, looked about and saw a well-
dressed man of wealthy aspect.
“What will you give me," she asked,
“if I lead you to a fine room, a beautiful
woman, and good food and wine?"
“Whatever is customary," said the
man. "Lead on."
She led the way, and he walked not
far behind her until they came to the
house. The old woman opened the door
and smiled. "Come іп,” she said. "Sit
down."
Тһе rich man took a seat, and he had
hardly done so when the door to an
inner room opened and a young man
and a woman entered. The woman was
his own wifel The man he had never
Sf Tw roared at his wife.
Н Аз soon as the young lover realized
4 1 ra young
- t Н who the man маз, he plucked courage
\ Н from despair and said: “So, Мг. Silk
H Merchant, this is the faith you keep
with your good wifel When they told
me, I could hardly believe it, but the
proof is clear. There can be no doubt.”
“Who are you?” the merchant bel-
lowed.
“I am your wife's cousin. Her father,
my uncle, sent me with her to follow
you. We came to see if what they said
of your conduct was true.”
"And we learn that it is!" cried the
wife, who had caught the drift of the
lovers strategy. “Nevermore will you
live with me, and you will never touch
me again as long as you livel"
The merchant was crushed. He bowed
his head and said: "If you will forgive
me, I will not misbehave again. This I
“We shall see,” said the lover. “Now
go out ahead of us, so that we shall not
be observed leaving this shameful place
together.”
With bent head, the merchant slunk
from the house and without a backward
glance made his way homeward.
“I suppose we need not hurry,” the
woman said to her young man.
And the two lovers lingered on, know-
ing full well that their trysting place
would never again be darkened by the
merchant's shadow.
— Translated by J. A. Gato
CAPITAL GAINSMANSHIP
(continued from page 50)
matters affecting real life rather than
theoretical an
lyses of it, the line is n
often than not a hard one to draw be-
selfish pacity and fruitful
shake-ups; frequently, in fact, the for-
chieves the latte
а by-product. But ou
not with alloca or blame,
the beneficial or deleterious
results of raids and proxy battles. In is
the Capital Gains aspects of these activi
ties that interest us — just as they are
often the principal motivating factors in
raids and prox
Among operators in this category, one
man wears both the crown of Midas and
the sword of Canute. Не is Louis E
wood Wolfson, age forty-eight, son of a
Jacksonville junk dealer, University of
ore
me
concern here is
ly occupied as President
1 Chairman of Merritt. Chap-
and Scott, а diversified holdi
pany with interests in construction,
ad chemicals.
ion rests upon
his sense of smell, the most highly culti-
vated im all capitalism. Repeatedly, he
s demonstr n uncanny ability to
iff out old, conservative. corporations
dening of the assets and
which have been all but overlooked by
public. Wolfs
to buy into the old firm (secretly register
ing stock in the names of brokers and
order to allay suspi-
om). wrest control. from stodgy man-
. then boom the stock's price by
skyrocketing dividends or waging proxy
The abject: to sell out lor
Capital Gains.
Adm Wolfson regard |
the Wyau Earp of the small investor,
the watchdog against complacency in
the of Am
Deuacors, on the
scribed. Wolfson
s strate;
өт» ol
сап bu
her hand, have d
ind men of his stripe
“jackals of capitalism" and "mortuary
millionaires.” (|. Patrick Lannan, mo
novice in the field — Western Industries,
International Telephone and Те ph,
Automatic Canteen and meen other
firms — once. pointed out that most of
ihe dirty-name-calling emanates
frightened. Management. “Хо corpor
tion head likes to be told he's not work-
ing hard сі үзі ›
Wolfson exh ed his keen sense of
smell carly in life. Іш 1934, his first year
ош of college. he purchased for $275 а
supply of pipe which had been lying in
dead on the estate оГ retail
ogul |. C. Penney. Its real worth was
$100,000 and Wollson lost no time in
reselling it to construction firms in the
Jacksonville area for that figure. Similar
transactions involving perceptive ap
praisal of undervalued properties fol-
board. rooi
сэл.
ЩИ
мог
lowed and by the time he reached thi
Wolfson's net worth totaled over a mil
lion dollars. Following World War H, he
bought the St. Johns River Shipyard
өк Ше from the government for
ion, shortly reselling it for more
л twice that price. hı 1951, Wolfson
pt control of the i
id associates
leys and buses im the
The North American Company, Сар
Transits previous owner, had bee
forced to sell under a death sentence
аце of the Public Utilities Holding
Companies Ла. Wolfson’s new acquis
tion was old firm with $6
million in idle cash set aside for a rainy
day. [t was pay é dividend. Wall.
son lost no time in shoveling into the
cash pile, and dividends were soon
octupled to $4 and the stock split four
for one. By 1952. the old 50е dividend
equal to 512.60, more than thirty
times increased. This, in addition to ere
ating heaps of wealth for Wollson
brought resentment and resulted in his
conservative
also
nee belore a number of federal
ating bodies. Following one such
investigation, Oregon's Senator. Wayne
Morse denounced him is “ап economic
and introduced а bill to
Transit of its franchise.
Ву 1054. Wolfson and associates — a
curiously docile clutch of. relatives and
nds who follow their master in and
попут
in control of a 1y-twa-
than $240 mil
man wielding
ity — wer
firm empire worth m
ion. Question: С
such nancial power and draw
nual income of 51.5 million
find happiness? Wolfson's answer:
Not when most of this income is in divi
den
However, Wollson ki
ravages of hi;
ew precisely what
s subject to tl
could bring him happiness Capital
in
So, he set his staff of researchers hunt-
IS “situation,”
ау
ripe for the Capital
ke. The researchers pored over
balance shects and. profit and loss state-
ments and narrowed down the number
ol possibilities.
One balmy July day
| sis assoc
1954, Wolfson.
таса the Wolfson
yacht anchored. in New York's. Hudson
es bo
River. (Since Wolfson is no history
scholar, dhe parallel was doubtless un-
conscious to the day in 1885 when J. P
Morg:
his
n took a party of associates aboard
yacht Corsair. anchored in
the fates of the
the
country’s ilroads,
iwo m
Cruisi
g on serene Long
ДЕТ
Мана Sound,
the № roup debated, deliberated,
and finally Wolfson made his pronuncia-
mento to the group: “I go for Montgom-
ery Ward.”
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86
‘The setup was a natural for Wolfson.
Montgomery Ward, as the country's sec-
nd mail-order firm,
wned 872] mi in assets, almost.
half of it in cold cash. Since the
of World War И, dour Board Ch
man Sewell L. Avery.
hid been squirreling av
pectation of a depression which never
materialized. The company’s treasury, so
overladen with cash. d come to be
known facetiously in ret circles as
Meanwhile, Ward's chief competitor,
5, Roebuck & Company. had been
plowing profits back into its business
and had а sales increase of 184 percent
to show for it, against Ward's increase
of 36 percent.
Following 0
Wolfson quietly began to buy up Mont-
gomery Ward stock. In possession of
59.000 shares and with his position se-
e, he called in the press on the morn-
4 of August 26 and announced his
npaign for control of the company.
Wall Suect’s waditional haste to "buy
on proxy fight news" sent the stock up
twenty points, from 66 to 8
The wrestle for control between Woll-
son amd Avery in the following nine
months will go down in history as the
most flamboyant spectacle in the an
of American proxy fights. It carried the
as of a Presidential cam]
ing from coast to coast,
public rallies, PR hoopla, TV inter-
views, advertising pyrotechnics on the
с, heated allegations and more
15. At one point, a deputy
York police commissioner an-
need that he and the FBI were
Wolfson and his family against
ts. At another juncture, an
nti-Semitic whisper campaign was set
n motion against Wolfson, А Wolfson
ica
decision,
shipboard
heated den:
New
minion, former Noue Dame football
coach Frank Leahy, attempted to counter
with a proclamation to the ago
press: "Louis is one of the cleanest per-
sons ] have ever known — clean in mind
amd body. Hc better person
than ninety-five percent of the Catholics
I have known."
Neither godliness nor cleanliness
«d Wolfson when the ballots were
finally counted. іп Мау. however. Не
had failed to win a majority, picking
up only three of Montgomery Ward's
nine directorships. Wolfson should not
have been entirely heartbroken. In Oc-
tober of the following year he sold his
DOO shares at a profit estimated to
€ been 51.475,00, every penny of it
Capital Gains.
ag the proxy battle, the charge
most often hurled against Wolfson was
that he was ruthless. Nowadays, on re-
flection, Wolfson says, "Sure, T wanted
joney, all the money. I could get. I
wanted to make sure my wile and four
is really a
а
kids would never have to worry about
money as long as they live. Since when
15 that a crime?”
With the thick rubber band already
secured around his bankioll, why does
Wolfson keep chasing the fast buck?
Surely the motive must be something
other than concen over the family's
bills. Wolfson's reply:
Funny, my kids ask me the same
question. Its because 1 also want to be-
come a champion in bus
to prove to the world that opportunity
depends only on ability. Give me te
more years and ГИ build a real empire.
1 might add that 1 ako feel a g
responsibility to the small stockholder,
like the little old lady in Washington
who told me that her whole income de-
pended on her transit dividends and that
she was praying for me. Now I ask vou,
what kind of human would I be if I
weren't deeply touched by that kind of
talk?”
Ever since the Wolison-Montgomery
rd tiff, proxy battles have become
1 fiesta, In 1957, the contest was for
control of Loew's, Incorporated. In 1958
і Penn-Texas. This year, at least
eleven firms face proxy battles, accord-
g to à New York Times survey, with
the feature attraction. something of а
battle royal come full circle. Boston
Capital Gainsman Abraham М. Sonna
ss. T want
bend has bought into and bid for con-
trol of Allegheny Corporation, the mam-
moth holding company which, under
direction of the late. Robert R. Young,
waged а successful battle for control of
1.
the New York Central Railroad in 19:
Sonnabend feels that Mlegheny's m:
agement has fallen asleep at the switch
since Young committed suicide іп 1958
und that the company has failed to real-
c full profit potential. Sonnabend
cager to apply to some of Allesheny's
ailing subsidiaries a Capital Gains m:
newver which has brought him a
personal fortune. This
erally referred to as the "Botany
ula,” named for Botany Mills, the first
corporation to which Sonnabend applied
it. Simply stated. Sonnabend uses the
rking capital of a weak corporation to
buy up small but profitable companies
in other industries, rather than retool or
expand in the industry where it is al-
ready losing money
A real estate man by background,
Sonnabend, now sixty-threc, first applied
this formula to Botany 1. He had
bought a quarter interest in the firm, a
woolens producer, only to discover at
his first board meeting that Botany might
not be able to meet its payroll on the
following Thursday. Sonnabend cm-
barked on a shopping spree which
brought а total of twelve profitable s
sidiaries ıo Botany within two years.
These included such improbable step-
children as an ойле supply house in
14
Ok doll company in New York.
a ng machinery maker in
те yntheuic fur manufacturer in
a cashmere sweater т
in of low-overhead cloth
Wisconsin,
and a chi
Stores.
By 1957, Botany ranked first amon;
America’s ratio
of profit to net worth. It was showing
ап $8 million profit on 514 million net
worth. Sonnabend, the Harvard-edu
cated son of a Boston pawnbroker, |
since applied the Botany formula to
other corporations which he and asso-
ciates control. For example, his Hotel
Corporation of America owns, in addi-
tion to principal hotels in principal
Chick Easter Egg Colors,
Whittemore Brothers Shoe Polish, Dox-
^s Little Neck Clams, Nature's Gold
Сир 100%, Pure Maple Syrup and Ben-
new’s 100% Pure Santa Clara Prime
E. %
tions in
largest corp.
s
When Sonnabend took over Artis-
tic Fou
dations, а sagging:
he stretched into its corpo!
and a venetian blind m
Allegheny Corporation directors
voluntarily submit their ailing su
iaries to the wiles of this corpoi
Marrying бат or whether Sonnabend
will have to м у
хо do his stuff will become known later
this year when sides line up for the
1961 Allegheny stockholders meeting.
M i bend is not likely to
permit his pa
bu
With
er. Wheth
while,
g spate of proxy
ew specialist has emerged on
ncial scene. He is known as the
ntiraider raider," а sort of jujitsu
and kicks the
der in the groin before he
s а chance to rape the sweet,
nocent little corporation. Among such.
anti-vaider raiders,
the black sash of champion is investor
Alfons Landa, quoted at the begin-
ning of this article. 1
partner in the renowned Washington
corporation-law firm of Davies, Richberg,
Tydings, Landa and Duff. A descendant
of Spanish nobility, at sixty-one he still
s remnants of the reputation. as a
ttalking, dapper cockalorum which
he caracd as à youth in Washington high
society rd-play
included Harry Hopkins and well-heeled
Demo businessmen Sidney Wein-
berg and Bernard Baruch, while wealthy
clients have included IBM's Tom W:
son, Alexander de Seversky, Louis B.
Mayer and. Barbara. Hutton well
1 luge corporations.
“Back in 1950, I
clients and large fees,” he recalled
long ago. “But I had no real mone
looked at these people who p:
selves a million а ye:
decided Z should become a business-
master who le:
would-be
ever ha
is geitin
Landa first ventured into Washington
real estate. Then he dabbled in trans-
portation in Florida and Georgia. He
took over Colonial Airlines, made a
killing there, then mushroomed his in
vestments with Capital Gains in oil and
sugar. But the maneuver which earned
Landa his reputation as the King Kong
of anti-raider raiders, was his stavc-off,
almost. single-t which
had threatened uf Trailer
Company, of which he was a director
Jt all started іп carly 1953 with
brothers Roy and Harvey Fruchauf
feuding over their respective rol i
the corporation's ma
President and Harve
Board. But Harvey's interests lay out-
side the board room and his attendance
at meetings was poor. When brother
Roy proposed that Harvey resign and
become "Honorary" Chairman of the
1. Landa backed him.
Harvey swallowed the bitter prescrip-
tion, but after stepping down һе decided.
to retaliate іп July of that year. With-
out warning to Roy, Landa or any of
the other directors, he sold out 130,900
shares of Fruehauf —the largest single
block. representing 9 percent of out-
standing shares—to the Detroit and
Sleveland Navigation Company. Nomi-
ally, the D&C was a Great Lakes steam-
ship line, Actually, it was the corporate
shell for operations of a Detroit busi-
nessman and promoter named George T.
Kolowich who had a reputation as a
rough customer. In part, tliis reputation
rested upon a term in prison which
Kolowich had served for embezzlement.
Shortly after brother Harvey's sale of
his stock to the D&C, Kolowich stalked
into Roy Fruchaul's ofice and an-
nounced his plan to clect himself to a
seat on the Fruehauf board at the an-
nual meeting scheduled for May
Under company bylaws Kolowich’s
election was a certainty because of the
5 block of Fruehauf stock which his
company controlled. But the directors
claimed to be vexed by possible reper-
cussions in conservative financial circles
which a convicted embezsler on their
board might create. Landa and Roy
Fruchauf soon learned to their dismay
that Kolowich was buying more Fruchauf
stock on the open market to further
strengthen his position for the May 1954
stockholders meeting. From all indica-
tions, Fruchauf Trailer was about to fall
victim to a full-scale raid.
Landa, not content merely to pass the
potato to some public relations firm
or high-priced consultant firm (the
usual practice of a threatened Manage
ment), conceived the following daring
plan:
He would pull the rug right out from
under Kolowich by raiding his own firm,
the Detroit and Cleveland Navigation
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PLAYBOY
Company, thus regaining control of the
Fruchauf stock which D&C owned. Landa
new that only one sizable block of
D&C stock was not owned by Kolowich,
65,000 shares in possession of Robert R.
Young's Allegheny Corporation. Landa
pulled strings in Washington, got the
Interstate Commerce Commission 10
needle Young regarding a “conflict of
interest” which Landa was able to de-
tect between Allesheny's huge railroad
holdings and its holdings of D&C steam-
ship stock, and Young was thus "pur-
suaded” to sell his D&C stock to Roy
Fruchauf and. Landa.
Throughout the fall of 1953 and early
1954, Landa's forces quietly continued
to buy more D&C stock. Several weeks
before the D&C stockholders meeting in
April, the majority position of the Landa
contingent was secure. To raise no sus-
n in Kolowich, however, they kept
ng information to brokers and the
ncial press which would indicate to
Kolowich that he still held the majority
of votes. At the annual meeting, when
Landa was elected President, Kolowich's
shock was a thing to behold, according
to eye-witnesses.
But that's not the end of the story.
Landa, realizing that the D&C maneuver
would have а salubrious effect upon
Fruchauf stock, bought in heavily and
ticipation
in the Fruchauf baules— and several
including Penn-Texas —
have made him “as popular as a skunk.”
"To others who might have been inspired
to try his route to success, Landa cau-
tion “You don’t always have to do
everything for a fast buck. From now on,
ГИ make mine slower.”
Proxy fighters, of course, аге not the
only men in business with big eyes Го
the charms of Capital Gains. Increasingly,
corporation execs in the 5100.000-а:усаг
bracket and over are demanding stock
options which permit them to buy stock
ply from the comp: у
ater resell it оп the open market for
others since,
why should they
forfeit so much of their income to ta
hile the men for whom they wor
and whose manipulations in Capital
Gains they frequently mastermind —
continue to pile it up? Howard Hughes?
failure to provide such a Capital Gains
position caused his top aide and only
known confidant to quit after thirty-two
years of service, throwing the $500-mil-
lion Hughes industrial complex into a
financial quagmire from which it has
yet to The execs name was
h Dietrich and his salary at the
time he quit was ап even half million
dollars a year. He had been losing more
than two thirds of it to
One big industrialist — not himself а
emerge.
xes.
proxy fighter — solved the high tax
dile: for his key execs by placing his
company’s profit-sharing funds into in-
vestments with great Capital Gains po-
tential. Не is Chicago's Colonel Henry
Crown, head of Material Service Corpo-
ration, which is now a subsidiary of
il Dynamics. A report issued in
опе of Colonel Crown's
aides had received а $95,881 increase ii
his fund share during the preceding
year, bringing his total fund share to
For his own Capital Gains investments
Colonel Crown seems to prefer real
estate. He is principal owner and Board
Chairm of the Empire State Building
as well as second largest stockholder in
the Hilton Hotel Corporation. The
Colonel is not alone in this preference
for real estate. The late J. K. Lasser,
eminent tax consultant and author of
Your Income Tax, felt that real estate
afforded Capital Gains possibilities “ш
paralleled” by other businesses. One
reason advanced for the success of the
best-seller How I Turned 51 000 Into а
Million in Real Estate in My Spare Time
is author William Nickerson's demonstra-
tion of how to parlay the technique of
tax reduction through Capital А
babe іп taxland" is what Nickerson terms
any property owner who fails to bone up
оп this important tax levy. (Since writing
the book, Nickerson has learned pain-
fully that income from artistic creation
is not subject to low Capital Gains taxe
and he will keep precious little of his
5200.000 book royalties.)
It follows axiomatically that one of
the most methodical exploiters of the
Capital Gains maneuver would be Amer-
ica’s most energetic real estate trader,
William Zeckendorf. At fifty-five, Лесі
endorf is already a land pres
of legendary proportions. The firm of
Webb & Knapp. Inc., of which he is
Board Chairman, President and princi
pal stockholder, owns properties
thirty-five states, Canad Mexico and
England. (Contrast this to other realty
firms which rarely operate in more than
one locality or, at most, опе state.)
A perusal of Webb & Knapp's port-
folio reveals Zeckendort’s predilection
for ownership of properties which pro-
duce Capital Gains rather than income
from rent. Example:
— 12,000 virgim acres іп the Santa
Monica. Range, strategically waiting for
Los Angeles to expand out to it.
— 65,000 acres of Florida Everglades,
to be drained for farmland and range.
— 5000 acres between Dallas and Fort
Worth, aw
dustrial park
— 35,000 acres of Godschaux Sugar sur-
plus land on the Mississippi between
New Orleans and Baton Rouge, also
tended for industrial development.
Unimproved landsites of yesteryear
ing development as an in-
which already bear the fruit of Zecken-
dorf's inexorable creative urge include
the Denver Mile High Center and Long
Island’s Roosevelt Field Shopping Cen-
ter, while his kiddie park in the Bronx,
called Freedomland, was duc to open
shortly as we went to press and was al-
ready being predicted to become the
Disneyland of the East Coast. The UN
Headquarters in New York occupies
the site of former slaughterhouses which
Zeckendorf bought for $6.5 million and
almost immediately resold to John D.
Rockefeller, at a self-imposed profit
of only $2 million because he knew that
Mr. Rockefeller intended to donate it to
its present use. The sale was not con-
summated, however, before Zeckendorf.
had been allowed time to pick up a num-
ber of peripheral parcels whose values
soared upon announcement of the UN
site.
Such wheeling and dealing has brought
Zeckendor a personal fortune of $30
million, including a Manhattan pent-
house apartment and a 70-acre water-
front estate Greenwich, Connecticut,
where he has moved more than a million
cubic yards of earth to alter the shore-
line. Not long ago, Zeckendorf was cor-
nered т his Madison Avenuc office (no
easy feat considering the office a
circle 28 feet in diameter) and са
what makes him run. Zeckendorf's im-
mortal reply:
"Some men run because of ego, some
because of avarice, some because of love.
But the man who runs fastest runs be-
cause of fright. 1 have experienced real
economic fright and that is why I run
so fast. I think I have very little avarice
as such — 1 have the lowest regard for
moncy simply as money — but my basic
interest is in security, a desire to defend
myself from the degradation that a lack
of money can bri
Does Zeckendorf see anything im-
in the Capital Gains disparity
which taxes windfall profits at a lower
rate than money carned by hard labor?
“I'm dead against windfall profit for
the slick operator. As far as I'm соп-
cerned, profit belongs to the man who
creates increment.
Doubtless, there are Capital Gains ex-
perts who share this economic philosophy
with Mr. Zeckendorf. But one man who
differs with him is Clint Murchison, the
homespun Texas ойт; Murchison
ls to see the distinction
windfall and increment. Says Murchison,
‘To me, money is the same as manure.
You put it out in the fields, you ull it,
nd it brings you good returns.”
To the salaried taxpayer on the side-
lines of this theoretical Capital Gains
discussion, the conclusion is inescapable:
call it increment or excrement, it's nice
to have money.
between
moon
inside me, as always, when 1 see that
Della.
‘lla, if you are another dream, go
She took my hands and put thi
where it felt good. “Are these dreams?
she asked. I couldn't think of a better
way to establish a fact.
“How'd you get h
I had done my duty
ki
n
I asked after
ad my pleasure,
sine those two brown eyes and that
-flavored mouth.
'Oh, the а heart,” she said.
“Deeply buried under mountains of red
tape, but it’s there." She pushed me
away from her. “Гус just come from
talking to Hanrahan, И looks like I'm
married to а her
"No, kid," I said, "Columbus and
Hanrahan are the heroes. Me and Pera-
lonzo are a couple of guys they need to
do what they w: то do." 1 told her
about my dream, if that was what it
маѕ Г don't think it was, exactly, but
I didn't know what clse to call i
“I always thought Old Lady Dun-
stable had the wrong dope,” I said, when
nd 1 looked at her ай
e a world with you in it?”
he got up and walked over to the
window. She squared her shoulders and
took a deep breath. “Oh, you're just like
all the sailors 1 ever heard of,” she
"Get a girl knocked up and then le;
tow
I didn't get it, and then I did. I we
came out of
room and put my hands on her brave
shoulders and turned her around.
" 1 asked.
is no drill,
She sh
Abner,” she said.
“How long have you kno
"I guess Те known
of weeks,” she said. *
until this morning. But Dr.
says there's no doubt about it
“Wall, g
1 said, “are you sad, mad,
» snapped
And I feel very
ngry with myself, as
I'd done something dumb or careless.
nd Г feel libe Гус been crowned
Queen of the May. I guess I feel like
а woman instead of a girl all of a sud-
den, and I'm not used to it.” She was
talking very fast, “But what about you?
What do you think about being
shut on me,
foolish and very
papa?"
I had thoughts but no words so I did
the only thing 1 knew to do. I hugged
her close and kissed her for а long time
and patted her on the fanny. Г was very
grateful that she did not need то
than this to reassure her. 1 kissed
her 1 heard the siren but let it scream
оп until T shed the kiss.
To the Moon, Old Hanrahan had
(continued from page 66)
said, we needed a man who not only
would go to the Moon but who damned
well would wa
w wise on
ng Marco, watching Johnny, watching
me, until he knew his man. And this
morning, Della, like all Navy wives, had
iled herself of the free medical atte
tion at the base clinic. And when Hurl-
burt called Hanrahan and told him
Della was pregnant, that was it.
"That was it. Marco and Johnny could
fly it there, as well as I could. But I had
the best, the most, the strongest reason
to get back.
Della and I walked out of the room,
into the sunshine. Marco and Johnny
were waiting, but it no longer mattered,
I didn't want to change places with
them.
“Well sce you
week.” Johnny
triple whingding
Marco said, “Vaya con Dias.
it very well. Not as well as
as he could not put as much meani:
into it, but it was good to hear.
I took Della by the hand to cu
the quad to the briefing room. М
two o'clock, next
d. "and we'll pitch a
He
Peralonzo,
and Johnny fell in behind us. In a few
minutes I would sav what I had to say,
па Della would say what she had to
say. We would hold cach other in a brief
lather of misery and then I'd let her go.
After that, letting loose from gravity
would be no problem.
Peralonzo, old buddy, I thought, as
voyagers we are pikers, stay-achomes. I
thought about the birds and the bees
and the hard, stubby facts of life. About
all the millions and millions of sperma-
tozoa m о the voyage from testes to
ovum, all of them perishing save one
tiny voyager. A doctor once told me that
speaking, the journcy
must be, can only be, measured in mil.
lions of miles. And Peralonzo had made
that journey, and so had Т. And I knew
that Peralonzo returned, and I knew
that Abner ns would make it also.
On the way we passed the mimosa
кес, and the little brown bird was still
there. You could hardly call the sound
he made singing — to tell the wuth, he
couldn't a tune any better than I
could —but he was, as Peralonzo had
done and as ] was going to do,
it everything he h:
“Wait, he left a still later will?”
89
PLAYBOY
thief in the night (continued from page 36)
donically, thinking of the haste. the
abrupt. lastminute. bolting at twilight.
He and the housekeepers son were
childhood friends. "The housekceper's
son had given him such invitations too,
but he had never accepted, even before
he was married. 1 don’t have to come
sneaking around like a beggar just for
some wine, he said. Now he stood in the
copse belore the house, breathing lightly
hearing the sound of his breathing. in
his ears.
He stood there watching the house for
a full half hour. When at length he
emerged from among the trees and
started for the house it was at the unhur-
ried, even pace of a man simply strolling
bout the grounds. He thought that; the
slow stride not even very careful, the
casy calm. 1 am not even nervous, he
thought. He had expected at least that.
Yet his very composure was an indica
tion of the light in which he regarded
what he was about to do; as ап act justi-
able and even actually right and with
nificant difference in shading be
b simpl ‚аз that
between murder and the killing of men
. He stayed on the grass, off the
gravel carriage path which тап from the
road to the house and back to the road
m in a broad parabola about an
eighth of a mile long. 1 don't have to
announce that I'm coming too, he said,
speaking to himself.
Yet he knew he could not keep his
presence
ii
complete secret. By the time
came from around the house in
fast silent rush he had already taken
the meat from the unrolled flour. sack.
He watched them slow, then trot across
the Jawn toward him, paired,
if in harness; noiseless as shadows. He
counted on those first moments of recog-
nition. Then the t his fe
“ling the meat intended. for
supper table while he bent above them
1 his hands over their hard
nks, wl g to the
them ther
de
Imost as
were
left
the house, into its shadow and ра
went on
shrubs which grew in a line befe
front windows, himself a sl
He found an unlocked
adow.
window at
once. И was аз if the house knew him
too, as had the dogs. Why not? he
thought. I've been here. often enough.
He had been to the house as recently as
а жесек belore, to weed the
turn over the carth for spr
One moment he stood motionless before
the unlocked window, the next he was
through it and in the house. Except for
sliding sound when the window was
pushed open, he entered without a
sound. He stood there at the window,
breathing lightly. staring straight before
him thou: thing
Just outside the window insects resumed,
shilling now from the identical spot on
В he could not sec a
which hc had stood, as though he had
only to step away гот a spot to «li
sound out of the darkness after him,
a knife draws blood after it when it lifts
from flesh. Though he stood there a full
moment, he still could sce nothing. He
did not need to. It is as if 1 would have
to look at the palm of
what it's like, he thought. Though he
could see only blurred and indistinct
shapes, only а litle paler than the dark-
ness itself, as though bleached from it,
about him, he believed he could find his
way about the room as well as in daylight.
Therefore he remained where he was,
not so much waiting for his eyes to ad.
just so he could make out the shape
bout him, as listening. Го the right and
in back of the room in which he now
stood was the kitchen, and beyond that
dded after the house had al-
completed, as though as an
ht, which gave the house
odd, misshapen appearance and whi
contained the servants rooms. Even
when both the Burgomaster and his wife
were gone and the servants dispersed,
the housekeeper and her son stayed or
tending the house, the grounds. He knew
that. He stood there listening for them.
On the upper floor and to the side of the
house, overlooking the garden and the
gentle vista of lawn and carriage path
extending down to the road, was the
irgomaster's wife's bedroom. Не
ned for her too. He did not know if
she had left with her husband or not. 1
should have found out, he thought. It
would have saved me a lot of useless
worry. Actually he was not worried at
all. What he felt at that moment was an
exultation he could not have put into
words. It is as good as done. he thought
It is as good as done and Гат gone. He
did not mean simply the house. About
him, stretching away on all sides in the
darkness, to the ultimate sea, was the
land which he worked by day and
brooded upon by night. It was when he
thought of the land, and his old life
which was inextricable from it, that he
fel actual contempt for his brotha
law. That his brother-in-law chose to
remain on the land and endure with the
undisheartened Latalism of his kind the
constant orderly progression. of travail
upon travail. which was his lot, he co
sidered the height of folly.
When he had stood so for a full m
ute, he sound, ng none, he
started. across the room. He believed he
was safe. So far, so good, he thought. He
believed it would be so from start to fin-
ish. He w the dining room and he
went directly to where the huge china
cabinet stood against the wall. He knew
of the safe in the study. There is nothing
in there bur peanuts, he thought Where
in the house the Bu ter kept those
enormous sums of which were
aring
cash
to transact business with in the old m
ner of his forebears, with the actual heft
of silver and banknotes in the hand.
bu d selling whole estates, forests,
Iroad, Walter had never found
out, This is good enough. he thought.
He had in mind the china cabinet, the
silver plate. ways, candlesticks, glinti
n vivid row on row in the sunlight
which fell upon them by da
Now the cabinet was only a pale
judge im the darkness. He advanced
across the room. skirting the long table
set in the center of the room, chairs
ranked profoundly along its length, as
precisely as i full light,
though actually s
blind man would. by feel. the u
ous balancing ol [aint reso
sounds, the unconscious sense of pres-
ences before and about him. Yet he
should have depended more on sight.
In his eagerness his eyes were fixed
upon the faint smudge of cabinet when
they should have been cekewhere, and
so the first he knew of the one chair
placed out from the table, аз though
by the cisual movement of a man
g from his place and leaving the
where it stood, was when he struck.
it with his knee and it fell over with
what in all that silence and darkness
seemed like the force and noise of an
explosic
He stopped moving at once. He did
he moved
not even wait for the sound of the fall-
ing chair. In that h between the
nd that of its
med to muse in
time he struck the chair
concomitant noise he
impotent and despairing regret upon
the insignificance of all human calcul.
tion. There was time enough for that:
the vi
а moment
n desi
€ t0 turn. back. time only
nd start over. Then he
heard the chair strike the floor, He stood
there, immobile, crouched,
suddenly rapid and light, hearing the
г fall in echoes about his
God, God, he thought. For a moment he
did not know whether to stay or run.
Beyond the window insects shrilled, But
when nothing followed hard upon the
noise he began to calm, They are prob-
ably dead asleep, he thought after he
had stood there а minute or so and will
по sound interrupted the insects’ h
thin crescendo. pitched at that single
note. He believed the housekeeper's son
to be lying drunk in his bed after all.
Thank God for the Burgomaster's wine,
he thought, smiling now, thin
could carry the whole house away and
he wouldn't know it, Whereas the mo-
after he struck the chair he saw
clearly and unmistakably the disaster
into which his discontent had led him.
he now felt more certain of the wisdom
of his course than ever. Yet when he re
sumed he was as careful as ever
fully he stepped around the cha
rs. God,
ment
could now see, now that it had Гай
leaving it where it li
I was five more steps to the china
cabinet. When he came апа stood before
it he was at such an angle that in the
glass doors of the cabinet he saw sud-
denly the stark, full reflection of the win-
dow at his back. and a fragment of the
sky and the а es beyond.
Like th of a still pool, the
held the image of a night filled with that
it impalpable glow which was light
and yet not light, and the
tant stars. When he moved it was gone.
He moved to put his hands upon the
cabinet. In the last ten years he had scen
the cabinet at least twenty times а year.
Yet this was the first time he had actu-
ally touched it. The wood had a smooth,
Imost malleable feel like that of old
silver, bı 1 his fingers. He felt for the
door frames. standing directly before the
glass which now held no reflection at
all. In one hand he held a broken spoon
adle. ground to a thin, flat blade at
one end. He probed along the snug
edges of the door frames with it, secki
а space wider Шап elsewhere. When he
found it he wedged in the spoon handle.
The doors gave instantly, without eflort
springing open with a faint silvery
sound, like the jangle of tiny bells.
He did not move at ome. For а
moment or so he merely stood the
cabinet doors. befor
were the waces of hi
advance: the ch;
the open window. Beyond that, on the
se lawn over which he had come,
s the meat he had left for the dog:
stood as if about to cross some actu;
boundary, some precise physical demar
cation the one side of which was enti
erent from the. other. "s as
Im. and
this another, rather th
whole; as а man at a river which marl
the border of two entirely dissimilar
countries will see the same water ги
ning along either bank, the same bush
and brake growing beyond.
He crossed the river. Ах he reached
imo the net he thought: I should
have brow bi He worked
quickly, easily, picking what he sought
from the darkness with uncinny delt-
ness, as though the pieces materialized
between his fingers by some kind ol
magic: plate and candlestick and silver
Cool air now filled the room, pouring
in through the open window all the
while he stood there. In one hand he
held the unrolled sack in which he
brought the meat for the dogs; with the
other he ransacked the shelves, metho
ically and with all the aplomb of a
experienced houscbreaker
More than cool air entered the room
at his back. Beneath the door at the Ізі
ol the room sudden light
peared in a yellow sliver, gleaming upon
the polished hardwood floor. He worked
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91
PLAYBOY
92
on, rhythmic, intent, oblivious to the
air and light both. So intent, so ex-
hilarated by his apparent success, that
the first he knew of someone che in the
room was when he suddenly felt one
arm clamp itself about his throat from
behind and another pin his own right
s body, and he thought, Wha
t's going on? He did not begin
10 struggle immediately. There was а
, a momentary hiatus of actual dis-
gh what was happening
to him was contrary to all reason. and
the laws of nature, during which he per-
mitted himself to be yanked backward
and bent upon the fulcrum of a knee in
the small of his back.
Tt was when he realized the sack had
been torn from his grasp that he began
to struggle. It was as though only the
sack, the silver, had any meaning for
him. He heard the sack strike the floor
s from distance. He heard the
myriad jar er sca
the floor in all directions. 1 will ne
find it in the dark, he thought. Then һе
tering over
thought
ned and sought to
ned him. He broke
the hold upon him in an instant. Yet
the other continued to Пай at him. The
hands upon him were like the darkness
made palpable, They were at him in a
wild flurry, his face, arms, waist: octopus-
like. It was as though he struggled with
the darkness itself, s
ing no shape or body tho
other clamped a hold upon his chest
and they stood locked im cach other's
embrace chest to chest and thigh to
thigh and he could hear the others
breathing going hah hah against his
ту. He did not think that he struggled
with the man with whom he had
up and once been quite close. He
thought only of the urgent need to be
somewhere clse, where he did not
So when the other called suddenly
against his ear, "The light, Mama.
Quick, the light, I have him," in a voice
as familiar to him as the streets of the
village and the land around, he felt the
shocking heave and surge of his blood
in surprise. 1 am dreaming, he thought.
Yet it was to escape the growing light in
the hallway that he struggled again іп
the other's grasp and freed onc а
struck at the other blindly and with all
his force
The other fell away from him at once,
rigid, as a ree topples. He fell with a
dull, heavy sound. He made that one
sound only; no outcry, по blundering
or thrashing upon the floor. It was the
utter silence: at once Walter seemed to
sense something terrible had happened.
Dear God in He tds it I hav
done? he thought. Yet he was on his
hands and knees, on the floor, reach
out with one hand and fecling for the
en, wh.
S
sack like а blind man, when the light
from the hallway fell upon him. He
looked up, blinking into its glare. His
expression was one almost of embarrass-
ment, like that of a man caught at a
child’s game. He was in the stance of a
child, on all fours, blinking guiltily in
the sudden light. He and the wom
aw the other at the same instant: he
ı the foot of the
bizarre angle
his sides,
turned up: quite still, bleeding a
from the ear. The woman жт
once. The lamp wavered, throwing wil
shadows over the floor in accompani-
nent. She screamed three or four times
while he continued to gaze in mute
astonishment upon the peaceful, open
face of the man he had known since
childhood and whose death he had now
inadvertently caused. He fled without a
sound.
He ran headlong from his crouched
position, as in a race. His shadow ran
before him, around the table, over sev-
eral upended chairs, leaping when he
leaped. Before him was the window:
beyond, darkness, the hard shapes of
trees. Once on the lawn two shadows
ran before him, darker than the d
ness. His own was gone. The two
shadows were the shapes of dogs and
they paced him for a while in soundless
ime. They moved without effort,
untrammeled, as though they did not
touch the carth or break the air, first
far ahead then falling back so
one and the other he saw
the small sudden moons of eyeballs, the
sudden glint of teeth.
Behind him the woman continued to
scream. He heard her almost to the
trees. Her cries had a pierccless, shock-
ing quality, coming so upon the stillness
1 of night. Yet his fiso c
was the dogs. Though he ran on without.
ation or filter, he was terrified of
them. They were German shepherd,
savage animals almost the weight of a
man. Once he had seen them run down
man, a poacher, knocking him Irom
his feet with the force and speed of a
projectile, and u
Be good, he s
поста
parently they did not smell his f
he believed. Or perhaps it was
that they knew him so well, as though
being about the house as much as he
was gave him a kind of immunity [rom
them, rendered him interdict. They
abandoned him suddenly, while he
could yet hear the cries. So silent, so
hostlike had they been all the while, he
could not say at what moment they were
at his side and what moment they left
him, falling back on the grass. SGI he
did not slow. He went on at the same
pace, running heavily, his body jarring
with each step. At his back the house
diminished, the single window in which
simply
ht now shone and flickered and from
which the cries continued to emanate.
carrying, across the stillness. The cries
followed him to the trees. It was not
until he was among the tree
earshot, that he could permit himself to
say that whieh since the instant of
flight he had been trying to deny: She
knows me, he said quietly, to himself, in
despair. She is calling my name.
He ran on. Не was beyond the copse
now, into actual woods. He could no
longer sce the house, the lighted win
dow, even if he turned. He saw nothing
before him. Stumbling, he put out one
hand to keep from falling but his hand
seemed to be held back, as И tied to his
side and he went lunging and crashing
on among the trees and undergrowth
He fell heavily, the sky abruptly tilting
backward, the dark shapes of trees. He
lay there without moving, panting, the
harsh sound of panting in his cars, the
hard feel of earth and broken under
growth along the entire length of his
body. Lying there, he discovered th.
his hand held the sack filled with silve:
He had forgotten about the sack. Now
he contemplated it with an expression
He saw again the body
ng
foot of the cabinet, the pale gla
lamplight falling into the room, the
woman screaming above it, He threw the
sack from him in а reflex of revulsion
and dismay. The silver made a light.
myriad tinkle m the darkness, among
the undergrowth. What have I done? h
thought. Dear God, what is it 1 have
done? He lay without moving, іп the
same position as that in which he had
fallen, with his face turned down into
the sparse grass and im his nostrils the
dank cool smell of earth not often in
sunlight, shuddering quietly and stead:
ily until at length hi s too
much to bear and he thought suddenly:
Is not as if Г meant to do it. He
thought: Whats done is done, I cant
bring him back now. And he went on
to berate his friend for his foolhardine
in coming into the room and his clumsi
ness in striking his head on the cabinet,
though he had done so intentionall
as though the entire night's mischance
of events had been contrived solely for
his, Walters, frustr: ıd deni.
1 to curse the other harshly
steadily. “The fool,” he said, aloud, r
ing his face from the ground. “The
damned stupid drunken fool.”
now bent fully upon absolvin
He sat up, the sky overhead, the trees
around. “Its his own fault,” he said.
“He didit have to come after me. What
if someone robs the house,
the Burgomaster won't starve.” Не went
on like that talking and talking to hím-
self, his words gaining in vehemence. At
though he
remorse w:
beg
is it to hin
length he ceased. It was а
finally believed the words. Because when
he thought again of his carlier impulse
to repudiate the silver and leave it here
in the woods, it was with astoni:
What could I have been thinking of? he
said, quietly, to himself. He thought of
the new life in America of which he had
always dreamed and which the
represented. He thought how now he
had the silver, within arm's reach. For
the first time since he had fled the house
an expression other than of fear and
despa nto hi this time it
was elation. For the first time in all the
twenty-five years of his life he ceased to
conceive of his life as a small dark space
within high walls, into which no light
shone, from which there opened по
door. It was as though suddenly a door
had opened, and he could see before
him his life straight as а corridor at the
end of which shone a glittering vista of
trees in sunlight, and open green fields
He believed he need only walk dow
that corridor. Apparently he had по
thought at all, any longer, of all that
had happened earlier. Because when he
reached ov nd took the silver again
it was with his old sense of purpose, his
old air of calm and easy assurance.
Yet when he rose to his feet and went
on, he chose no fixed course. He blun:
dered a picking his way at random
among the trees. What is the matter
with me? he thought with irritation. It
was not until he found himself on Ше
1 to the village that he came to him-
self. He found himself in the center of
the road, in the pale dust, alone in а
place where he had never been alone
before. Before him the village lay
around a turn, invisible beyond invisi
ble ures: overhead the constellations
kept time, themselves timeless, sweeping
silenuy and grandly across the sky in
their immutable courses. He turned sud
denly and crashed into the underbrush
at the side of the road. He ran а sho!
distance, then stopped. He crouched іп
the underbrush, leaves brushing against
ime
his face, breathing heavily, thinkin;
What am 1 doing? 1 can't go back the
He believed they already knew of his
deed in the village, as though the old
woman had come faster
Yet when he moved not
Iter his course. He went on toward the
lage, though now he was more circu
spect, coming around behind the villag
through these woods into which he |
passed earlier, Пот his house a
across the field of flinty earth at its back
in which weeds grew almost knee high.
He was thinking calmly and evenly:
Even if they have already found ош
they will first have to go to the Count
for the dogs and then they will to
bring them to the Burgomaster's house,
before they can even begin. He believed
he was taking no risk. There is plenty
of time, he told himself. At the back of
his mind was the one unfading hope
than he.
v
that they did not yet know of the house-
keepers son, so that he might see his
wife and child once more before he left.
The hope died аз he stood on the edge
of the woods, looking out across the field
toward the village, and saw the small
rectangles of light where houses were,
proliferating even as he watched, and
the movements of shadows upon the
windows and outside on the hs lead-
ing to the village square. Without hope
he listened to Ше faint commotion of
men hurrying in the dark, the movement
of horses, calls, the openi
of doors.
It doesn't
matter, he
quietly, without conviction, looking өш
from the trees upon the men among
whom he had spent his life and who now
were preparing to hunt him down. All
that matters is that I have the silver and
then I will be gone from here forever
Yet once all hope had died, what he
felt in its place was an angu
as to be something almost physical
when already deep in the woods
bling back to the shallow stream which
ran in а broken course out of the cast-
ern mountains and over the fields and
along which he hoped to lose the dogs,
he considered turning back to the house.
He relived again those moments before
he had left the house, hearing again his
wife's mild breathing as he dressed,
bending once more over his son, aghast
suddenly at how far he had come and
his own lonely and irrevocable course,
nd he thought quietly and with sur-
prise: АШ 1 did was step out the door.
He was at the s At his back
was a wake of torn leaves and trampled
undergrowth, marking his passage. The
str aly before him. Ahead іс
disappeared in the darkness, as in а cave,
though he could see, from time to time,
the sudden glint of starlight, reflected on
its surface. His way was clear. He knew
exactly what he must do, step by мер.
without alternatives. First he would lose
the dogs along the stream. Then he
am then.
would strike out for Cracow where he
would sell the silver. Thinking of Cra-
cow, and of the money for the silver, i
ned last he could see the end to
harassment and running.
"The stream numbed his legs at once.
He entered clumsily, slipping a little on
the wet grass along the bank, the sack
balanced upon his shoulder. Once in
the stream he began to run. The water
was almost knee high, and icy from the
snow's thawing im the eastern moun-
tains. Thongh he ran on he could feel
the numbness continue to rise along his
legs, as though the actual level of the
water wi his У, thigh:
about his hips ran оп. clumsily
churning the water, though he could
not have given a reason for his urgency.
He had dete ned to clude the others
by craft. Yet he тап with desperate
urgency and not much progress cut in
the center of the stream, making а noise
loud enough to be clearly heard two
hundred yards away, churning the water
e in the darkness. He was not even
are that he had panicked until he
ing slowly and with a sad,
peaceful quality over the woods and the
spreading countryside beyond, first the
voice of one hound, then another.
He ceased abruptly. He stood а mo-
ment, bri Wily, bent forward
in an ing, while all
about him the water continued to move
forward into the d. ss. He listened
to the water. Standing so, the
ing so, he had for an instant a sensation
as of the entire earth — fields, houses,
trees, the very pr 1 crust itself —
poised to move forward, headlong into
some empty and terrible void. But he
did not hear the dogs again. Yet he
knew, as surely as if someone had come
and told him, that һе had been ош-
mancuvered.
He had counted on his knowledge of
how such man hunts were conducted to
elude them. Apparently they, in turn.
had counted on his counting. "They
ст mov-
ordi:
93
PLAYBOY
are waiting downstream Гог me,” һе said,
quietly, aloud. So did he know they
waited outside the woods, standing in
quiet clumps at spaced, regular intervals
about the periphery of the woods, with-
1 the shadows of trees or sitting pa-
tiently along the apron of some plowed
field. He left the stream. It was not that
he could not have eluded them, slipping
out betwee or along some
ridge of undergrowth, since he knew
the woods and the land beyond as well
s they. It is that the entire countryside
will be looking for me, he thought
quictly, without hope. He thought how
by day, now, there would be no door at
which he could stop to ask for food or
water, no field in which he dared lie
down and rest, that did not contain
within its sunny commonplace aspect the
threat of sudden alarm and capture.
Twenty minutes later he was squat-
ting beside a dirt road no wider than а
single lane and which debouched sud-
denly from among the trees on onc side
and vanished after some distance, on the
other. Few knew of the road: its sole use
now was as a short cut through the
woods. He squatted behind a screen of
undergrowth and tall weeds, the silver
at his feet, Overhead the constellations
had shifted, wheeling across the sky and
no the west, but he er
aware of them. He was no longer aware
of time, расе, the fundamental co-
two tre
was по lon
ordinates by which he marked and
measured his existenc
He was not aware that he had gone
to sleep. It was as if sleeping and waking
were but different names for the one
unbelievable nightmare which his life
had now become, so that he could pass
from one to the other by the mere clos-
ing of an eye and yet п where he
had always been. He slept suddenly, in
squatting position, with his back against
a tree and his head resting upon his
arms. His clothing was still damp from
the stream, and iron-cold. In the sudden
dank chill of just before dawn, he began
to shiver. Asleep, he was still pursued,
still harried from this side and th
Asleep or awake there were moments
when de | despair he imagined
himself i a dry clean
clothing from which even the very smell
of earth had been scoured, having sup-
per in some fine expensive restaur
and with money enough to take h
and his wife and child afterward, when
at length he could send for them, safely
to Americ
So it was not surprising that at first he
believed he was dreaming that the sun
had risen and it was day and a wagon
was coming along the road. 1am d
‚ he told himself, as а man will in
pite
Cracow at last,
his sleep. But the warmth upon his face
came
and arms from where the sun
through the trees persisted and
that at last he stirred and looked up. He
had to close his eyes immediately against
the sun. It stood just above the tree:
a flat pale-colored sky empty of all
clouds. "It will be a fine day today," he
nto the stillness of mid-
ght himself at once. For
he had believed that this
s like all the other mornings
of his life, with nothing before it save
the peaceful orderly routine with which
he filled his days, passing in unbroken
succession one into another. “What can
said quietly,
morning. He ca
а moment
I have been thinking?" he said in aston-
ishment.
It was as though only then did every
thing nto place: time and place
were now fixed in his mind as unchang-
and precise as lines drawn on à
map, longitude in its way, latitude tran:
verse to it. He was here, hidden in the
woods, cut off [rom old life as com-
pletely and immutably as though he
were on another planet, though it was
but an hour or two in any direction to
the countryside he knew and had grown
to manhood in. Even the woods were a
part of his remembering, his past, so
that within them yet irrevocably separ:
from them, he was like a ghost
the scenes of its former life. 7
he thought. I might as well be dead. But
that was only ап expression of the des-
pair which sleep had engendered. But
when he stood up and moved his stiff-
ened limbs and looked across the calm.
sunny panorama of midmorning while
birds wheeled and called across the still-
ness in the treetops, hope returned. Yet
it was the sound of a wagon along the
road more than anything else. It was
closer now, carrying over the stillness
the creak of bed and axle, the even, un-
hurrying clop of hoofs upon hard earth.
He made no attempt to hide. He
stood, waiting beside the road, the
screen of bushes behind which he had
slept not even chest high. Above the
bushes, fixed in passive and waiting ас
tentiveness іп the direction of the in
ing noise, stared а countenance
ard, unshaven, caked with the dirt
and stubble of a nights r 2
saw the horse first, emerging
among the trees, around a turn, as
between the painted props of a not very
professional play; head and neck first,
in harness, then. flank апа back, then
the ramshackle wagon itself with its
fanfare of clatter and rattle despite its
паке load of full sacks and the
men who sat unmoving and quiet
behind the horse, appearing not to sce
him and joling cach time the wagon
jolted.
Yet they reined the horse immediately
at a signal from him. They were not
ne was а boy, the height of
а man but with the gawky, unfleshed
aspect of an adolescent. Their faces
; he knew they were father
се. They stopped almost abreast
ol him. Yet he had smelled the wagon
sooner than that. Still he began talking
hay
two me
at once. He scrambled hastily and
clumsily from behind the bushes, talking
all the while. His story had already been
prepared. He had awakened with it in
his mind, ав though he had made it up
while sleeping, as though, being inte
changeable, sleeping could do waking's
work. It was the measure of his despera
tion that he could believe the other
would take at face value so implausible
a story as that he was hiding there in
the woods from the irate brothers of a
girl he had loved and then forsaken.
The other listened in silence. He was
a big man, though slack. He sat hunched
upon himself, on the Най slat of wagon
seat, his torso rising mountainously out
of the flaccid rolls about his waist; mo-
tionless, only changing h
reins. He listened attentively. Yet his ex-
pression was neither one of belief or dis-
belief. So uh ed one fabrication
upon another, listening to himself, his
voice upon the sunny stillness there in
the clearing, Walter began to feel his
talking was only something on the air,
without meaning or credibility, carrying
no weight or substance to the car. He
doesn't believe а word Im saying, he
thought.
Yet no sooner did he finish than the
other bent forward and made a gesture
with his hand, smiling suddenly with
brown, gapped teeth. “I know how it i
he said in a loud, cheery voice. “I w
young once too,” and he winked, his lace
turned from the boy, smiling at Walter
s though with that simple reflex of the
eye he created some bond between them,
conspiratorial and profound. “What сап
1 do to help?" he said.
“Help?” Walter said in quiet surprise,
after him. All along he had been hoping
for such a response as this. It was the
very reason he had dared signal the
wagon. Yet so long had he been in flight,
desperate, harassed, solitary, he had
Imost come to believe it would always
be so; pursued forever through one dark
wood or another, along icy str
ing through brush and bramble, un-
Ly, with по voice save his ow
despairing cries coming on the air, fill-
ing the silence. And so the words, the
olfer, spoken mildly and casually on the
shaver
bright morning air, came to him with
a shock,
Yet һе did not cease. It was as though
he had developed too much momentum
by now to stop for shock and surprise
even. At once he stepped to the wagon,
into Ше pale dust of the road, as through
п open door: above him the other
sited, watching, the boy at his side
watching. Whereas before the words had.
rushed out of him pell mell, hc now
became calculating. He looked furtively
up and down the road, dissembling. “Нег
brothers,” he said, gesturing, speaking
suddenly in whispers. “They're all over
and outside watching the
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“Ahh.” the other said. “Of course,
and he looked too, along the empty
road dwindling among the tees, at the
trees themselves, as if someone might be
lurking there, in the shadows, among
the dark trunks, that very moment.
Then he looked back. They looked at
cach other: the one haggard, in the
soiled amd irredeen
had worn through the night and slept
in, waiting there beside the wagon not
yet hopeful bur with that expeceaney in
his face as if he could se
moment when hope would return: the
other with that benign expression of a
tolerant uncle who has caught his youn:
nephew smoking or pl cards Гоз
money and will not only admonish him,
but will abet him at doing it better. It
was as though they could read cach
ors minds. “The wagon," the other
vou would be sale among the
ble garments he
ihe
tion as
às though the
about. him,
to clamber into the
bur. figments of vain
and desperate imagining. It is too good
to be truc, he told himself. But beneath
his hand the old smooth wood of the
wagon was real enough, the wheel hub
upon which he boosted himself, the sun-
light on his face. Yes. he thought. There
is no disputing that.
Me began thanking the other before
he was even in the wagon. In this, at
least, he was honest. Though he dis
sembled everything else, even to holding
the sack with that alert and unceasin
craft so the silver in it should not clatter,
he felt toward the other a gratitude
deeper than he had ever felt before in
d him with
That's all ri
а clear hearty voice, “Му
pleasure. 1 am always glad to do a
favor.” And when Walter mounted over
the side he offered him his hand. steady
ing bim as Ве stepped. down
Then he wis daml: т
hi
т. sett
to emanate and spread. i
clearing like smoke, Well, b
be choosers, he thought
“L's not the nicest place in the world
to lie down,” the other said. as though
reading his mind.
“из all right,” he said. "lt will be
fine.”
Yet still he could not advance among
the sacks. This time it was not his doing.
his distaste. He is holding my hand, he
thou prise. He turned. The
other was turned toward him: straddling
the seat, one hand clasping his, just as
he had left him when he stepped down
into the wagon bed, even to the expres:
ty ability. Не
iu the increasing
hr in os
sion of open and 1
had begun to swe
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96
his shirt blotched now where it lay
nst his flesh. “Your bundle." he said.
“T сап keep it up here Гог vou
“That's all right | сап manage,
Walter said. He had begun to think the
other hadn't even noticed the sack. He
was not alarmed, He is just being help-
ful, he thought.
could put it under the seat where
it would be out of your way,” the other
said.
“Thank you, but I would rather have
it with me.” Walter said. “Besides, her
brothers might reco:
eH
X course. Her brothers.”
the other
id.
But when Walter tried to draw hi:
hand free the other bent suddenly to
ward him and spoke in a flat. cold. level
voice entirely unlike his voice before.
“AI right," he said. “That's enough of
playing games. Just let me have the sack
Т don't want to have to break your arm.
100." But it was not until the other
spoke to the boy —a single phrase. not
even peremptory, abrupt: simply loud —
who turned and came down from the
scat as at a command, toward hi
take the silver, that Walter т
full import of the other's
uter had been his astonishment. So
astonished, so stunned, by the oth
sudden transformation in tone and man-
ner and intent, he could only stand
there, immobile, gaping. while from the
treetops above there broke upon the
clearing the abrupt, shrill sounds of
binds quarreling: thinking: It’s a g
He is playing some kind of game. That's
what it is, must be. Then he thought:
It's not а ganm
intent: so
me.
He means every word.
And he began to struggle.
He had the advantage. Не was ap
parently more agile. And the other was
seated, half straddled on the sku of
wagon seat. Perhaps it was simply that
ihe night's events had exhausted |
more than he knew. Perhaps it w
his will, the sheer singlepurposedness of
his every action and thought, had
[ s it had earlier,
that time shortly after he had Пей the
Burgomaster’s house. Because the other
managed, without too much effort, using
his vast bulk аз a fulcrum. to immobilize
Walter within a space of twenty seconds,
ing up his arm and pinning it be
hind his back. Above them, in the trees,
the birds had ceased: they could hear
distinctly the click and buzz of insects
in the sudden silence, It was as though
they had paused to listen: Walter on
his knees among the sacks of manure,
panting, his eyes wild, glancing this way
and that: the other at his back, panting
100, lookin
їйї and cold and as different from
his earlier expression as night from day.
Looking down too, standing with one
foot on the seat and one in the wagon
expression the pair to his
the boy, holding а pitch-
gged for an instant, а
g down out of a counte
nce
fork he had produced. suddenly, as out
ol the air itself.
While he watched in utter helpless-
nes the boy came and took the silver
from among the other sacks, where he
had finally dropped it. Watching the
boy, the sack which contained the silver,
he experienced a fall and cessation. of
his blood such as he believed came with
death. Why not? he said quietly, to him-
self. I might as well be dead. Yet when
the other bent across his shoulder and
spoke in his ear. he felt a wild and des-
perate rage. "What kind of a fool do
vou think 1 am?" the other said. his
voice contemptuous, harsh, setting up a
ringing in his cars. “АП that nonsense
about a girl, and brothers out [or re
venge. It would not fool a child.” He
L "The whole countryside is looking
for you, did you know that? They are
out for your blood. They are going to
kill vou when they catch up with you.
Did you know thai?” Then he said,
"Look in the sack.
His face was gone from Walter's ear:
the warm and cool of his breathing was
gone, Then Walter could hear the thin
ar ringing of silver upon silver as the
boy emptied the sack on the wagon seat.
“Abh,” the other said, softly. "Ahh."
Then he was back again, his breathing
on Walter's car again. "I will make you
ion." he said. His voice was
almost | Imost joyful.
"Your life for the silver. How is that?
I will get you out of the province and
for that 1 keep the silver. Well?” Then
he laughed. It was when he began to
laugh that Walter, in a sudden fury born
of frustration nd self-pity,
began to shout, his voice ringi
the clearing, yet with a thir
quality, ephemeral, come and swiftly
gone on the air, the sunlight, with no
ccho, no trace left behind. "MI right.”
he shouted. “Kill me already. What are
Do nd get it over
nd desp:
you waiting Го
with.”
In cont
almost surprised. "Kill he said
"Em no murderer.” He said, “I don't
© to kill you. You're not going to tell
the authorities about me. You are not
ping to tell anyone anything, because
they are looking for you. They wouldn't
let you say five words." There was no
hint е: beyond. Wal-
легу shoulde етліпей mild,
пу mod sweating a little. So
when he n 1, quick. upward
motion with the hand at Walter's back.
deftly and effectively breaking his arm.
Walter had no warming at all. He did
not even ery ош. He
hard jolt, as from а blow, at his
shoulder, then his entire right side went
numb. “Thars in case you get any ideas
to get the silver h the
his tone, his voi
zle
elt only a si
ng of the wagon bed, the wagon lurch-
g and jolting beneath him upon th
d and тимей earth, the sacks of
manure heaped on top of him. he felt no
sensation at all in his arm and shoulder
for a long time after. He lav in the
ion in which he had fallen, tumbled
mugger by them, as into a
into a space they had cleared amo
sacks. Then they had piled the
over him, leaving a small opening for
breathing, where his face was. He could
i
i
1
1
of sky, clouds, the distant edges of trees
Tt must be like this in a coffin, he
thought. But the odor about him was
at ui of earth. In his nostrils even
the rough planking beneath his head
gave off the rich, ineradicable smell of
manure, ranker than that of earth. 1
would be better off in à coffin, he told
himself
callin: tumbled to one side, unshaven,
dirty, in the. rent and soiled garments
he һай been out of but two hours in the
past twenty-four. “Dear God,” he said,
aloud, into the sacks. "Dear
Heaven.” So great was his self-pity
that moment, tears cime t0 his eyes.
At length he calmed. He lay watchin,
the sky, the slow intermittent procession
of overhanging leaf and bough. He did
not know how long he lay so, пог how
far they had come. Maybe w
the province, he thought. The possibility
no sooner occurred to him than he
thought again of the other's duplicity
d his own unvariness, and he began
again to curse the
He seemed to see himself as in
are out of
nüre mischance of
events which had led to this moment.
AIL Г wanted was to get enough. money
boat ticket, he thought, He had
ys been an honest man. И was be-
we his sense of justice had been out-
wed by the inequities he saw all about
him that he determined to go to America
in the first place. Now he lay broodi
upon the enormity of his deprivation,
thinking of the night's events and all
that he had dared and endured for the
silver only t
ments remissness, "He will not get
away with it,” he said, aloud, bitterly.
ЗИП he knew he was no match for
othe gon did not ce
on, now smooth, now lurching and
pitching so hat firmament and frond
succeeded each other in the winking of
With his good hand he could
touch the spoon handle in his jacket
pocket, fled down at one end. He
touched the handle, the filed edge sharp
as а knifeblade. Touching the handle,
there came to him what he must do if he
re to redeem any part of what it had
cost him to obtain the silver; and he
spoke it.
lose it in
single mo-
, The wa
an eye
nothing else," he said,
quietly, aloud. “I will have to kill him."
PLAYBOY
98
ШНАҒАРОРРАШЕ 0.44 pom pase «2)
looks a bit too old to be wearing a fresh
man beanie, but no one seems to mind.
BROWN
OR, kids. fun is fun, but it's time now
for busi i
iss. How are we
oing to r
funds for a new campus biplane?
PREISER
1 have it, kids! Let's put on a show!
ALL
(Deliviously happy) А SHOW! THAT'S
І А SHOW!
Enler үонхху DAVIS and his
trumpet to lead them in a snake dance
out the Shoppe, across the campus, and
aver the football field, picking up the
тезі of the student body and the lovable
заек) custodian (ул. WENDEL) en route.
Cut back to Sweet Shops
DUNBAR
Kids, Г move that Sally asks the college
president for permission to put on the
show. She's the prettiest. the smartest,
nd the most popular kid on campus.
TOM
She's also the only kid on campus who's
the president's daughter
м
GREAT IDEM EHE NU IS! PEACHIE!
Cul to Sally (noxa. DRAKE) and. h
father (GEORGE WARBIER) in president's
office, warmer, purpling with rage, is
splintering his desk with his fist.
BARBER
А show? With dancing
sic I
dec
SCAT
Mb jazz mu
my school? Never! Never! It's in-
nt, Lal's what it ist
илк!
(Defiantly) 1 suppose it doesn’t matter.
to vou, Dad. that we kids € to travel
around in the same old campus biplane
т after y this,
but. you're an old. fuddy«dud . . . and.
22. А party-pooper! (She Мопих out)
Cut to campus. Ay Sally walks sadly
foward the Sweet Shoppe. тонхму
DOWNS. im a white sweater and blue
“IV,” is coming from the other direction.
He accidentally bumps her, knoc
her uke out of her hand.
DOWNS
Sorry, Г Say. arewt yon Sally, the
presidents. daughter?
DRAKE
аг. Dad, I hate to ха
ing
And you must be Freddie, the big foot-
го.
DOWNS
Hos c тау your
She veddens and nods, He picks ир
the uke and they walk across the cam-
pus. discovering cach other. From out
of nowhere they are joined by forty-
en strolls
g Choristers (сак маме
NNSYLVANIANS and YHE YACHT CLUN
поз) singing "Moonlight Over Whatta
poppalie.” After ten choruses and [aur
encores the chorislers lea:
luctantly Y and reevp sit down
on а bench. Close-up of her quivering
lip-rouged mouth, Close-up of his quio-
е same re-
SAI
ering liprouged mouth. They gaze
at each other silently. Then he quickly
sprays kisses on his shoulders. his elbows.
his wrists, the backs of his hands, and on
cach of his fingers.
DRAKE
(Rising coldly) NOW 1 know why I've
avoided you, Freddie. You may he a big
football hero. But you're conceited!
Cul back lo Sweet Shoppe. Same
group as in opening scene.
BROWN
1 dont care what Sally's dad said!
Remember when he forbade us from
putting on a show last month to rais
funds for a new gymnasium? And the
month before he said no show to help
raise money for a new ski lift. Well,
that didit stop ш
OAKIE
You mean . . 22
BROWN
I mean we put on a show anyway.
ALL
HOORAH! A SHOW! A SHOW!
AL this сис JOMSXY “sear” pavis
leaps 10 his feet, his trumpet poised. But
nobody wants lo snake dance. So he
swallows two goldfish and walks out in
a fil of pique.
BROWN
Now then, what celebrities were stranded
at the Whauapoppalie г
while en route to the C.
TOMLIN
Lets see. Paul Whiteman is str
there. Also Rudy Vallee, Russ Gol
the Happiness Boys, and the 1
nded
ШЕ
па
BROWN
used them before
now wh
Oh, darn! We'y
kids, vou
3
t Fd like for this
show? Two things A real Broadway
musical troupe, with girls, production
numbers and the works. And also а
real smart ballroom dancing team. Both
of these are bound to be stranded at the
station some day soon. $o keep your
open and...
Fade and cut to Broadway rehearsal
маре. Pianisi (ALLEN у s) is balter-
ing the keys while the chorus. captain
(PRANK ме HUGH) fy leading two hun-
1 girls in tights through a rhythmic,
hing dance number.
producer (wansve
MG HUGH stops the rehearsal,
BANTER
n) Eddie, didn't 1 fire you
lay?
BANTER).
(To wc nc
on Thu
: HUGH
Yeah, chief, but vou rehired me on
Frida
BAXTER
But then 1 fired you again on Saturday
ме носи
1 know, but you took me back non
Monday.
BAXTER
Well, youre fred . But 1 need
you so you're rehired. Eddie, F'm in a
spot. Fifi ran out on me. Here 1 am
with two hundred chorus girls, one hun
dred boy: с vocalist, fifty-five
flower-trellised swings, twenty-seven w
ter tanks. seventy-six moon props.
no female stay!
waxTER signals for the rehearsal to
resume and he walks slowly up and
down the line examining the girls. Sud-
denly he stops and points,
BANTER
You, in the third row! Step out!
he music ceases and RUBY KELLER
comes forward timorous
KEELER
ме
BANTER
you! Do you think you can learn
songs, twelve dances, and a
nd twenty-five stage cues in
twenty minutes? Come on, speak up!
She collapses
Another chorus girl (WISECRACKING
JOAN BLONDELL) quickly kneels by hes
side and starts slapping her face and
hands.
MISECRACKING JOAN BLONDEL
Poor kid. She fainted. The
she ate was a peanut. butter
three weeks ago Wednesday.
Enter male vocalist. (DICK тох)
with wide. confident grin. Perspiration
glistens on his face and his lip-rouse is
slightly smeared.
POWELL
(То waxver) Let me take her under my
wing, sir. I promise you she'll he ready
when you need her.
Fade. Kaleidoscopic shots:
feeding KEELER sandwiches;
dancing and singing; POWELL
his head; resver fainting; owra. giv
ing her coffee; KEELER dancing and sing-
ing; томы. smiling; BAXTER smiling;
BANTER hiring KE BANTER firing
ме HUGH. Fade.
Сш to rower at a piano in backsta
room. Enter KEELER.
KEELER
пу. What's that you're різ
POWELI
new
thi
sandwich
ОП
KEELER
shaking
Hi, Tom
Oh, this? Just
isn't very good.
I wrote. It
KEE
1 for me.
POWELL
All right. but you won't like it.
As he plays she begins swaying to the
rhythm, snapping her fingers апа tap-
ping her feet. She picks up the lyrics
from the lop of the piano, looks at them
for two and a half seconds, then puts
them down.
ER
Please pli
ккк
(Singing softly) Come and hear . . . those
g feet... on the boulevard Din
you to . . . Fancy
lancey Street...
She dances and sings
choruses without once missing а note. a
word or а beat, accompanied by vowrta
seventeen
апа a hidden forty-piece orchestra.
POWELL
(With a final keyboard flourish) Did you
like it, Nancy?
KEELER
LIKE it? Tommy, THAT's the title
song for our show!
For good measure she then sings five
additional choruses, which POWELL
hadn't planned to write until later that
evening,
Cut to speeding train wheels. Cul to
happy troupers inside the train. Train
suddenly comes to a screeching stop.
Luggage flies in all directions. Enter
conductor (GRANT MITCHELL).
MITCHELL.
Sorry, folks, the tra derailed. I'm
afraid we're stuck in this town for а
few days.
BAXTER
What lousy luck! Where the heck are
we?
WISECRACKING JOAN BLONDELL
(Looking out the window) Whattapop-
palie.
BAXTER
Wiscciacks! Will you stop already with
the wisecracks!
Cut to sumptuous lobby of La Reine
Hotel, in Paris. Pan camera on crystal
chandeliers, palatial plush
rugs. Louis XIV couches and potted
palms. Enter GINGER ROGERS, twenty-five
pieces of luggage and a Russian wolf-
hound. She is dressed in а popular De-
pression-era. ensemble: а 55000 Chanel
tailleur ilver-jox toque and ти].
Cul lo FRED ASTAIRE and EDWARD
EVERETT NORTON crossing the lobby on
their way to breakfast. They are be-
decked in typical breakfast finery of the
Thirties: top hat, white tie, tails and
walking stick.
staircase,
ASTAIRE
Henry, who is that ravishing creature
over therc?
HORTON
That? Oh, that must be Sheilah Martin,
the New York typist.
ASTAIRE
I think ГИ ask her to marry me.
HORTON
Good, good, Jerry. why don't . . . (т
dulging in his first of two dozen double-
takes) You think you'll WHAT?
Cut back 10 ROGERS
ROGERS
(Looking over the lobby) Too bad the
only decent hotel in Paris is filled. But
1 suppose this dump will have to do.
Cul to stake dancing gracefully but
frantically up and down the walls and
tables in his room. И is mida[ternoon,
and he is dressed casually: white tic,
dress shirt, formal trousers (no tails)
Cul го ROGERS suite: a symphony in
white. White walls, white rugs, white
sculpture, white furniture. She paces the
floor in white satin pajamas smoking a
white cigarette. She is obviously annoyed
by the noise in the room above.
Fade and cut to ROGERS, in 81500
black-veluet robe, standing in the hall-
way pounding on ASTAIRES door. Door
opens. ASTAIRE appears.
ROGERS
(Slapping his face) How dare you annoy
me with that horrid danci Гап leay-
ing for Venice immediately-
ASTAIRE
(Rubbing his cheek as she disappears)
She loves me!
Cut to the outdoor café of the Grand
Canal Hotel in Venice. АЅТАКЕ and
HORTON are seated at а canal-side table,
attired in white dinner jackets. ROGERS,
in evening dress that was the rage among
New York working girls in the Thirlies —
ап $8200 silver lamé gown and white
ermine cape —is seated several tables
away, studiously ignoring Шет. The
other tables are filled with bejeweled
dowagers and elderly теп. Papierandché
gondolus sail by on the canal, traveling
to the end of the set and then returning.
Enter Armondo Brazini (ERIK RHODES)
AST AIRE
Henry, look who just кеа in — Bi
zini, the dance impresario. This is
my big chance to get a job.
He rises and skips lithely lo Rocers’
table. She slaps his face
ASTAIRE
Please dance with me.
ROGERS
with you? I hate you! Besides,
1 can't dance.
ASTAIRE
Don't worry about thal! We'll do The
Confidential. It's a dance 1 created in
my room fifteen minutes ago. You'll
like it.
In an amazing display of extrasensory
perception, the orchestra breaks into The
Confidential, forgetting in the excite.
ment of the moment that they have
never played it before and don't even
the music. AST and nocens (the
latter ап unusually deft pupil) swirl and
tap ай over the floor, while the dowa
and elderly men sing the still unrele
lyrics in remarkably young voices
The dance ends to crashing applause.
ROGERS slaps asramRe’s face, after which
he leads her to his table,
HORTON
(On his (есі. а semi-smirk on his face)
Jerry, guess what? Brazini loved the
dance! He's booking the two of you for
a tour of the States. Hurry, pack your
things. We leave tonight.
ASTAIRE
Wonderful, Henry! Did the others like
the dance too?
norton points to the dance floor
where one hundied and twenty people
who have lost from twenty to thirty-five
years of age apiece, have left their tables
апа атс engaged in the intricacies of The
Confidential, Not one of them misses a
step ov a beat.
Сш to specding train wheels. Cut to
ASTAIRE, ROGERS, HORTON and RHODES іп
hav
ers
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100
train. Train comes to a screeching stop.
Luggage flies in all directions. Enter
conductor (GRANT MITCHELL).
MITCHELL
The ur йсй, folks. I'm sorry,
but we're going to be held up in this
town for a few
's dei
HORTON
Town? What town?
мис
Whattapoppalie, sir.
HORTON
. . (Double-take) What
ELL
Good. Good
tapoppa — what
Cul 10 том BROWN in front of the
closed curtain on Whattapoppalie audi-
torium stage. Shouts, jeeis апа catcalls
from the audience.
BROW!
Please bear with us, kids. Doesn't it
stand to reason that a Broadway troupe
and а ballroom da
stranded at our
of ui
tonight. So ples
we'll have a show ton
AUDIENCE
WE WANT OUR MONEY BACK! WE
WANT OUR MONEY BACK
Cut to rear auditorium. door. Enter
ANTER, BLONDELL, POWELL, KEELER,
ASTAIRE, ROGERS, HORTON, KHODES, [WO
hundred chorus girls, one hundred boys,
stage hands, and a long train of scenery
and props.
neing team must be
lroad station оне
y well be
nt. I'm sure
BANTER
шіп on vou like
this, folks. I'm a producer. My famous
у troupe and this famous ball-
ing team were just stranded
ailroad station. Would you
ind if we put on а show for you right
now at no charge. whatsoever?
Cheers. Cut. to DIXIE puxnar embrac-
ing том BROWN от заде.
DUXBAR
We're saved! The show will go on after
аш
BROWN
(Sadly) 1 can't understand why they ar-
rived so late!
Fade. Curtain rises. The Whattapop-
palie stage miraculously becomes twenty
limes its original size. Cut to overhead
shot looking down on large swinging
tandem of kicking chorus girls. Cul to
girls in bathing suits sliding down ponds
into huge water tanks. Cut to POWELL
and KEELER between two tanks, singing
“Beside a babbling brook my heart met
its Waterloo-hov-hoo-hoo.” Cut to high
overhead. shot looking down on water
ballet. Girls floating on backs їп huge
circles, first clockwise. then counterclock
wise. They pair off and byeast-stroke
slowly toward the camera smiling broad.
ly. some savoring their big moment by
swimming slower and smiling broader
than others.
Fade. Cut to ROGERS and ASTAIRE danc
ing to the exciting, erotic Latin-Ameri
can rhythm of The Caramba.
Fade. Cut to park scene. Fifty girls
sitting on half-moon props. one hun-
dred boys and fifty girls soaring high
over the audience on jlower-vellised
swings, while POWELL and KEELER, their
faces two inches apart, dance to the
Vague Waltz and sing, “Мау 1 thrust
my face in yours and sing . . . like a bird
on the wing... to you.
Fade. The roof of the auditorium
magically parts and a formation of
twenty monoplanes comes zooming in
low, ten shimmying chorus girls tethered
to the wings of each plane. They sing,
“MonannteviDAYO . . . Montevideo Бу
the bay-o . . . Flying to Montevideo,
Uruguny-o . . . What a WONDERFUL
шау-о lo go.” The planes dip their
wings, then soar skyward.
Kaleidoscopic shots of “Wishing You
Well By a Wishing Well” “Gray Spats,
Pink Champagne, and White Lies,"
“Get Along to Happy Ho Ho Ho Ho-
boken/ und the title song, "Fancy
Dancey Delancey Street.”
Cut into finale. The entire cast, plus
BANTER, HORTON, RHODES, the girls back
from Montevideo, the pilots, and sev-
eral nervy маде hands, all dressed as
sailors, do fifleen minutes of close order
drill on a simulated ship deck, while
singing the stirring “Only Rats Give Up
a Ship.” Huge American flag is unfurled
on the backdrop. Flag disappears and
is replaced by a large N.R.4. Blue Eagle.
This in turn ix replaced by a mammoth
picture of Franklin Roosevelt circled by
smaller pictures of John Garner, Harold
Ickes, Frances Perkins and Cordell Hull,
Fireworks go off. followed by the release
of five thousand balloons. Then curtain.
Thunderous applause. Cut to лом
BROWN in front of the curtain.
BROWN
Guess what, kids? We not only took in
enough money for the campus biplane.
We also have enough for a swimming
pool!
Cheers. Then cut back to auditorium
which has been miraculously trans-
formed into a dance floor.
Cut to көлем. and KEELER dancing.
KEELER
that you're humming, darli
POWELL
Oh, it’s nothing. I'm just making up a
song as we dance.
He breaks into “A kiss pays your bill
on Honeymoon Hill . . ." She magically
picks up the lyrics in the second chorus
and he never gets rid of he
Cut to Astaire and косеяѕ dancing.
ASTAIRE
an awfully dull 1
now a simple way for you to change
She slaps his face, but this time her
heart isn't in it.
Cut to JOHNNY
DRAK!
Wh:
79
DOWNs and DONNA
DOWNS
Зо, anyway, Sally, L finally realized that
st because I'm a husky, handsome foot
ball player with brown wavy hair and
deft in my chin is no reason for me
to be conceited. Will you marry me?
DRAKE
Га love to, Freddie. But ГИ have to ask
Dad first. Speaking of Dad, 1 wonder
if he’s been told about this show. You
know how he feels about d and
jazz music. He's so stuffy.
DOWNS
(Chuckling) Why don't you speak to him
now. There he is.
А few feet away from them is the
president (GEORGE BARBIER). He із wear-
ing а rakishly askew freshman beanie
and is dancing merrily.
BARBIER
Hi Sally, Hi Freddie. Say, Tm having
loads of fun! (He shuffles off, slicing the
air with an upraised index finger)...
A-uuckin' on down the avenue .. . A-
wuckin’ on down the avenue . . .
Shrieking gaily, everyone in the audi-
lorium forms a huge caravan. Led by
JOHNNY “scat” pavis and his trumpet,
they snake dance out the door, across
the campus, over the football field, and
up, up, up lo a sacred corner somewhere
in Cinema Heaven.
Wherever you are now, old buddies,
sleep cool. You may be gone, but even
on the darkest nights a Whau
moon still shines. Not on eve of
course. Only on those of us who are pure
of heart, noble of spirit, and simple of
mind.
a
man at his leisure (continued рот page 77)
the world: between the terraced club-
house and the 13.500 capacity horseshoe
stadium is a diligently manicured stretch
of grass, easily converted to active courts
according to the day-to-day needs of the
club: f
nking this expanse of grass as
smooth as a golf green are rows of clay
courts. To the visitor, there is a unity
that links clubhouse, courts and stadium
nas
е manorial
It was this image, regal in nature, that
inspired artist LeRoy Neiman during his
visit to Forest Hills. Neiman, on special
assignment [or rLavuoy's Man а! His
Leisure series, went оп a sketchbook
tour of the club. He explored the Old
Englishstyle clubhouse; he strolled
through the field of grass courts: he ob.
served top-notch tennis players at peak
performance during Davis Cup combat.
For Neiman, whose esthetic excursions
have taken him around the world, it was
mitable adventure.
pression was of the club-
house, a strikingly charming building,"
Neiman says. "Players and spectators
were relaxing in front of it, under para-
At an outdoor Ьа
д lly dressed waiters served
е,
drinks to the players, garbed in wh
and to the guests, in sports attire. It w
an elegant scene іп ап almost pal
seu he remembers.
Inside the clubhouse,
the manifestations of tradition and
style. For those members not on the
courts, а spacious lounge, with leather
chairs, offers а casual, comfortable res-
pite. Above and below the luxurious
lounge and dining room are quarters de-
signed for more expedient matters. On
the second floor are the dressing room:
in the basement are the business offices.
Throughout the i
sensed the well-m:
vate club.
The members
оне commo!
they
man noted
are of all ages, but
interest: they
H play it
hav
tennis and
They are devoted to the game and they
ke it seriously. Off the court, they
revere each other's privacy. For example,
during major competitions, well-known
players can roam through the clubhouse
without ever being approached or even
stared at by
“The players themselves — like Olmedo
and the other great ones— аге quiet,
too. You can sense the infinite suain of
the matches in They
rarely speak: they seem uneasy. They sit
for a while, then move around. Former
tennis stars — like. Bill Talbert and Vic
Seixas — are members and they spend
their time with other members, while the
contemporary players drift around.
^L noticed one man who had been
playing and had returned to the club-
house to rest. He was about sixty-five
years old and seemed to know most of
и play
tensel
member,
their actions.
the members in the lounge. He stretched
out with his gin and tonic. Seated beside
him was Davis Cup team member Ват
MacKay. Instead of conversing with
Mackay, the older man opened his news
paper and read about the cup match
Mackay had played the previous day
Neiman recalls
From the clubhouse, Neiman looked
past the pattem of grass courts to the
stadium, where a capacity throng pre-
pared to observe the Americans and
Australians in their battle for the world’s
most treasured tennis trophy — the Davis
Cup. He was given the rare opportunity
to enter the playing field and sketch
during the matches
"Compared to the fans of other sports.
tennis addicts are extremely orderly,"
Neiman says. “They clap politely for a
ood shot and rarely react to а bad onc.
They just maintain a dignified silence.
Oddly enough, that silence sometimes
becomes more cuttingly evident than
catcalls or Bronx cheers.”
As an artist. Neiman was par
conscious of color at Forest Hills.
dress of the spectators is in keep
their reserved attitude. A view
stands gives one a basically white im:
15 pretty much a white jacket or polo
icularly
The
with
of the
shirt crowd, The eye-catching color, the
focal point, is the green of the grass
court. It is white racing against the green
as the players volley or as the ball boys
scamper to retrieve. The officials, seated
in studious poses on the sidelines, never
take their eyes off the ball. They wear
cen jackets or dark-gray jackets,
in contrast to the white, informal dress
of the crowd," Neiman recalls.
“The refreshment tables for the play-
ers brighten up the court. Dotted with
oranges, lemons and pitchers of water,
they arc as lovely as still-life paintings.”
he says.
When the matches end and the crowd
disperses, members and guests stroll
along the fringe of the massive grass
are
linking the stadium and clubhouse
obody walks on this grass-court €x-
panse,” he says, “unless he is playing on
it Dt is a solid mass, framed. by narrow
paths. As you walk, you can see sizzling
serves and volleys everywhere — on the
clay courts bordering the grass. as well
as on the grass itself, Tall, stately trees
provide just the right degree of shade. 1
felt the rare, European sort of leisure
that members must feel. 1 seemed to be
in the midst of a park, vet the infinite
care evident made it unlike any park
Га ever seen."
Engraved above the entrance to the
stadium are Kipling’s words: “Meet with
Triumph and Disaster and treat those
two impostors just the same.” Foi
Hills, as Neiman saw it and. painted it,
is the personi
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102
best of all possible worlds
only one man who came heir to the very
best of all possible worlds, as you used
the phrase.”
“ба said the n,
his eyes shining, “1 wouldn't mind hear-
ing about him."
hope there's time. This chap is the
happiest ram, the most carefree bull in
history. Wives and girlfriends galore,
as the sales-pitch says. Yet he has no
qualms, з feverish nights of
ament and self-chastisement.”
"Impossible!" the young man put in.
“You can't eat your cake and digest it,
too!
"He did, he docs, he will! Not a
tremor, not a trace of moral seasickness
fter an all-night journey over a choppy
ad Lord young m
of innersprings! Successful. business
n. Apartment in New York on the
best street, the proper height above
traffic: plus a longweekend Bucks Coun-
ty place on a more than correct little
country stream where he herds his nan-
nies, the happy farmer, But E met him
first at his New York apartment Jast
year, when he had just married. At din-
ner, his wife was truly gorgeous, snow-
: ms, fruity lips, an amplitude of
harvestland below the line, a plenitude
bove. Honey in the horn, the full
apple-barrel through winter, she seemed
who
thus to me and her husband
nipped her bicep im passing. Le
at midnight, I found myself raisin
hand to slap her on the flat of her flank
e a thoroughbred. Falling down in
the elevator. life floated out Irom
me. I nickered.”
"Your powers of desc
зип commuter, breath
icredibl
the
copy," said the
“But, to continue. 1 met Let-Us-
Smith not weeks
cr. Through sheer coincidence 1 was
invited to crash а party by а friend.
Arriving in Bucks County, whose place
should it turn out to be but Smith's!
And near him, in the center of the living
room, stood this dark Talian beauty, all
саму panther, all midnight and moon-
stones, dressed. in earth colors, browns,
тпа, tans, umbers, all the tones of a
pble,
mith
gain
two
riotously fruitful autumn. In the
Later, 1
1 dos her saw
crush her like "armed. vine
of lush October grapes in his arms. Idiot
Fool, 1 thought. Lucky dog, I thought
Wife in town. ni 5 in country.
trampling out the vin
all that. Glorious. But 1 shall not stay
Tor the wine festival. 1 thought, and
slipped. away, unnoticed.”
^L сапа stand too much of this tal
aid the voung commuter, trying to raise
the window.
"Don't interrupt
“Where was 187
“Trampled. Vintage,
name.
id the older n
(continued from page 37)
"Oh, yes! Well. as the party broke up,
I finally caught the lovely Italian's па
Mrs. th!
He'd married
Hardly. Not enough time. Stunned,
I thought quickly, he must have two sets
of friends. One set knows his city wife.
‘The other set knows this mistress whom
he calls wife, Smith's too smart for
bigamy. No other answer. Mystery.”
Go on, go on,” said the young com-
muter, fev
igh spirits. drove me to
the train station that might. On the way
he said, "What do you think of my
wives?
Wives, plural?’ E said.
Plural, hell, he said.
ty in the Jast three years! Each better
than the das! Twenty, count them,
twenty! Here!” As we stopped at the
station he pulled out a thick photo-
wallet, He glanced at my face as he
handed it over, "No, no’ he laughed.
‘I'm not Bluebeard with a score of old
сапе trunks in the attic crammed full
of former mates. Look"
“I lipped the pictures. They flew by
like an animated film. Blondes, bru-
nettes, redheads, the plain, the exotic,
the fabulously impertinent or the sub-
Timely docile gazed out at me, smiling,
frowning, The flutier-llicker hypnotized,
then haunted me. There was someth
vibly familiar about each photo.
Smith! I sid, ‘you must be very
rich 10 allord all these w
Not rich. no! Look again!
‘I lipped the montage іп my hands.
I gasped. Г knew.
The Mrs. Smith I met tor
Italian beauty, is the one and
mith,’ P said. "But at the
ve had twen-
ight, the
nly Mrs.
me time,
the n I met in New York two
о. is also the one and өшу Mas.
It сап only follow that both
nd the same!"
d Smith, proud of my
women are onc
Correct!” сі
sleuthing.
"Impossible" I blurted out.
"Мол said Smith, elated. "Му wife is
amazin One of the finest actresses olt-
Broadway when D met her. Selfishly, 1
asked her to quit the stage оп pain of
severance of our mutual insanity, our
up one side of a ch
longue and down the other. А giantess
made dwarf by love, she slammed the
door on the theatre. to run down the
alley with me. ‘The first six months of
our marriage. the earth did not move,
it shook. But, inevitably, fend thar I
п, 1 began to watch various other wom-
en ticking by like wondrous pendu-
lums. My wife caught me the
time, Meanwhile, she had begun to cast
her trical billboards.
1 found her nesting with the New York
Times wextmoring reviews, desperately
tearful. Crisis! How to combine two vio-
тап
ing
noting
eves on passing th
lent careers, that of passional
actress and. that of anxi
ram?
“One night, said Smith, “I eved
peachamelba that drifted by. Simulti
neously, an old theatre program blew
in Ше wind and clung to my wife's
ankle, It was as if these two events, oc
curring within the moment, had shot а
window shade with a rattling snap clear
to the top of its roll. Light pomed in!
My wile seized my arm. Was she or was
she not ап actress? She was! Well, chen,
well! She sent me packing for twenty:
four hours, wouldn't let me in the apart
ment, as she hurried about some vast
and exciting preparations. When Tre
turned. home the next afternac the
blue how the French sav in their
always twilight language, my wife had
vanished! A dark Latin put out her
hand to me. “I am a friend of your
wife's." she said and threw herself. про
me. to nibble my cars, crack my ribs,
until E held her off and suddenly sus
ous cried, “This is по woman Гы
th — this is my аме” And we both
ing to the floor. This was my
cosmetic, dilfer
wile,
coutur
tion."
ress!"
should be and РИ be it €
right, Fm Carmen. Drünnhilde?
no? PI study, create, and wh
grow recreate. Tm enrolled
the ademy. ГИ learn
nd ways. Fm chi
speech lessons, lm signed a
жа
what
men? АП
Why
von
bored,
\
member of
the Yamayuki Judo Club —" “Good
Lord," I cried, “what for? "his!" she
replied, and tossed me head over heels
into bed!
“Well? said Smith, "from that day on
I've lived Reilly and nine other Erish-
men's liv I've known unnumbered
passing fancies, delightful shadow plays
of women all colors, shapes, sizes, fevers!
My wife, finding her proper stage, ow
parlor, and audience, me! has fulfilled
her need to be the greatest. actress in
the land. Too small an audience? No!
For L with my everwandering tastes
there to meet her part
she plays. My jungle talent coincides
with her wide-ranging genius, So cged
at last, yet free, loving her I love every
one. IVs the best of all possible worlds,
friend, the best of all possible worlds."
There was а moment of silence
The wain rumbled down the wack in
the new December darkness
The two commuters, the young and
the old, were thoughtful. now, consider
the story just finished.
At last the young
and nodded in awe.
“Your friend Smith solved his prob-
lem all right
He did
The young man del
ат whiche
T man swallowed
cd a moment
WHAT SORT ОЕ МАМ
READS PLAYBOY?
A young man who seasons his life with the best of seasons
winter or summer—apt to be mooring his craft in a Carib-
bean harbor when he's not plying his craft at the executive `
level. Facts: According to the leading independent magazine
survey, the income of the PLAYBOY household is the highest
reported for any men's magazine. And the PLAYBOY reader's
penchant for travel is affirmed by the fact that 37.1% of
PLAYBOY households spent over $200 for vacation and
pleasure travel last year—another figure unsurpassed by
any other men's magazine. (Source: Consumer Magazine
Report by Daniel Starch and Staff, 1959.)
—
PLAYBOY ADVERTISING DEPARTMENT . 232 Е. Ohio St., Chicago, MI 2-1000 - 720 Fifth Ave., New York, СІ 5-2620
=
PLAYBOY
104
then smiled, quietly.
“L have a friend. too.
was similar, but — differ
him Ой ап?"
“Мез. said the old man, “but hurry.
t off soon.”
Quillan," said the young man, quick-
1, “was in а bar one night with
fabulous redhead. The crowd. parted be-
fore her like the sca before Moses. Mirac-
ulous, I thought, revivifving, beyond
the senses! A week later, in Greenwich,
I sew Quillan ambling along with a
dumpy little wom we, of
course, only thirty-two, but she'd gone
to seed young. Tatty, the English would
2 pudgy, snouty-nosed, not enough
p. wrinkled stockings, spider's
nest hair, and immensely quict she was,
content to walk along it seemed, just
holding Qu
here's his poor litle parsnip wife who
loves the earth he treads, while other
ighis he's out winding up that incred-
ible robot redhead! How sad. what a
His situation
nt. Shall I call
own
shame. And Т went on my was
“А month later, 1 met Ош Шап again,
He was about to dart into а dark en-
uanceway in MacDougal Street when
he saw me. ‘Oh, God! he cried, swear-
ing. “Don't tell on ше! My wife must
never know
: bout to swear myself to secrecy
1 woman called to Quillan from
indow аром
“I glanced up. My jaw dropped.
“Tere in the
dumpy, seedy little woman!
“So suddenly it was clear. The beau-
Шш redhead was his wife? She danced,
she she talked loud and long, a
brilliant intellectual, the Goddess Siva,
thousand-limbed, the finest throw-pillow
ever sewn by mortal hand. Yet she was
wely — tiring
‘So my friend Quillan had taken this
obscure Village room where, two nights
3i week, he could sit quietly in the mouse-
window stood thc
ы
brown silence or walk on the dim streets.
with this good homely dumpy comfort-
ably mute woman who was not his wile
at all, as 1 had quickly supposed, but
his mistress!
“I looked from Quillan to his plump
companion in the window above
wrung his hand with new wa
understanding. Munis the wa
The last I saw of them, they were seated
in a delicatessen, Quillan and his mis-
tress, their eyes gently touching exch
ou aying nothing, g pastrami
sandwiches. He, too, had, if you th
about it, the best of all possible
worlds. . ,
The tain roared, shouted its whistle
and slowed. Both men, rising, stopped
and looked at cach other іп surpri
Both spoke at once:
"You get off at Uris stop?"
Both nodded, smiling
Silently they made their way back, and
n stopped in the chill Decem-
ighted and shook hands.
“Well, give my best to Mr. Smith.
“And mine to Mr. Ош ан!”
Two horns honked тош opposite
Js of the station. Both men looked
\ beautiful woman was in
. Both looked at the other car. A beau-
n? was in it.
They separated, looking back at e
other like two schoolboys, each мез
а glance at the car toward which the
other
“1 wonder,’ ht the old man, “if
that woman down there is ——
"E wonder," thought the уо
“GE that lady in his car could be —
But both were running, now. Two car
doors slammed like pistol shots end
a matinee.
The cars drove off. The station plat-
form stood empty. It be
and cold, snow soon fell like а curta
ch
ng
was movi
thou
man,
ig December,
MILES
(continued from page 78)
That's like if someone said to ше. СІ
8 n. Does he do his job
as well as I do mine? Fine. So why do
1 have to meet him? In Cincinnati, they
said, “I маш vou to meet this disc
jockey: he's the only one іп town who's
playing jazz. I said I didn't want to be
bothered. ‘But h
around here.’ ‘Look.’ I told them.
I'm a good music
s one of the best guys
IE he's
doing a good job. grea | am. too — or
Im trying to. Besides, he might not
want to meet me. And there are days
besides when 1 just don't feel like шесі
g people. Why should [ have to
do what I'm supposed to on the job:
Nonetheless, the owner of the Key
Club in Minneapolis will not have Miles
back because he refused to help in local
publicity. Miles is consistent, though
His own booker has only one. publicity
picture of him — an old. stiff one — and
Miles will not be bothered to have new
ones taken. (The same office handles the
publicrelations-conscious Art Farmer-
Benny Golson Jarstet, and within the
first two months of its existence, Farmer
and Golson had cagerly posed for at
least. ten dillerent shots.)
Except for his unyiclding refusal to
do local radio and TV shows, Miles
generally gets along well with most
club owners. “When I get booked some
where for the first time.” Miles chuckles,
“I tell Jack Whittemore of the Shaw
office to tell the owner that Fm crazy
and not to fool around with me. "I hen,
when he finds out I'm not um
c time, we wind up get
2 Most of those owners
good friends of mine, and I don't make
the mistake some musicians do of thin
ing of all dub owners as one breed.
They're people; they're all different.
sonable
But if you do what you're paid to do,
they'll treat you right.”
ome promoters regard Davis as
predatory, but from his point of view,
he's simply making certain he gets his
htful share of what profits there arc.
A couple of y о, Miles was get-
ting $1000 a night for oneshow con-
certs. Не was offered a Town Hall,
York, date that included two shows
His booker told him he might be able
to get him 81500 since there were two
performances. Miles said, “ГІ tell you
what. TIL take $1000 for the first show
and $500 for the second, but you tell
the promoter to rope off half the house
for the second show and sell tickets for
just the half that’s left.” Miles got $2000
Тог the night.
On the other hand, Davi
sionally play in а club he likes for less
than his normal fee, and he will not ask
his top fee if he feels the room can't
afford it. He gets less than his maximum
price at New York's Village Vanguard
partly because he likes the owner, М.
Gordon, and tly because he knows
hew much Gordon can net
Не sees no point in charging Gordon
so much that a profit would be impos-
A
will occa-
n the room.
sible. И а club owner has offended him,
however, Miles п never return for
any fee. The manager of the Town
Tavern in Toronto suggested a few
years ago that Miles fire drummer Philly
Joe Jones because Jones was "too loud."
Now,” says Miles with relish, “he wants
me back, but I won't go. He thinks he's
going to influence musicians,
Miles also refused to play the Cre
1 Hollywood for $3500 and
worked what could be termed
joint for 5100 less. He had not forgi
Gene Norman of the Crescendo for hav-
ш offered him $1500 the year before.
“Maybe thats all you were worth
aid one of his cronies when the
new offer came up.
es" Miles rejected the ques-
tion, "Dizzy told me the audiences are
noisy th
Miles’ prices have risen steadily in the
past three years. His lowest point was
inste:
in the early Fifties. After the nine-piece
band that made the influential set of
Capitol recordings in 1949 and 1950
(Birth of the Cool, Capitol T-762), Davi:
went from job to job, and finally the
number of weeks between engagements
began to stretch. He had become hooked
1949, and the four years of
cally as well as personally. For а time
record dates were his prime source of
support; and later, he exiled himself to
Detroit for several months in an at-
tempt to get himself together. His essen
tial independence made the fact that he
was so sorely dependent on narcotics
increasingly distasteful to him. and he
finally broke the habit because, as he
once explained, “it was too damn much
trouble.” He had also become clearer
as to what kind of musical group he
nted; and as he began to be able to
anize and keep a combo together, hi
popularity and income grew, start
around 1955. Miles, however, has never
been money-hungry and has always been
known for his insistence on taki
off to rest and for his capaci
down jobs he doesn't like,
what the price.
‘There are times when Miles’ refusal
to accept an engagement verges on the
whimsically irrational. As part of а
European tour he undertook in the
ly part of 1960, he was offered ап
unprecedentedly large fee to play Brit-
n. where he has never appeared. Не
turned it down. The reason came out
during а conversation with Bri
writer Kenneth Tynan. Tynan, in
America as guest drama critic for The
New Yorker, asked Miles at a New York
party why he didn't go to London.
g time
» tum
matter
“You're very popular there," said
ynan.
^I can't stand the langu answered
Miles. “I don't like to hear English
spoken that way; it would drive me crazy
il I had to hear it every day.”
The usually voluble Tynan was for
once reduced to incredulous silence.
Davis will stick to his principles,
however fancifül they occasionally seem
to be: but once he h; ced to negoti-
ate, he expects to be well paid. Last
year, Nat Hentoff sketched a format for
a half-hour CBS-TV jazz program for
producer Robert Herridge. He and
Herridge agreed on Miles. Charlie
Mingus and the late Billie Holiday as
p
ticipants
"Sounds like a good show,
to Herridye, "but not for
takes my minutes
just to warm up. I'm not going on for
ten, no matter what you рау те.
As it turned out, the program — which
had been taped for The Robert Her-
ridge Theatre series —became The
Sound of Miles Davis. Yt was all Miles
half with his small combo and half with
Gil Evans di e band im
selections from Miles Ahead, Total coi
mentary for the half hour was less than
sixty seconds. The show, because Miles
held out for his standards, is quite likely
the most intense and unalloyed
program in television history
The sidemen for the big band were
paid separately ans. Miles"
ow it received $4000 from which
Miles took his not inconsiderable cut.
Don't I get extra,” he asked. hallplay-
fully after the price was set, “for con
ducting my own combo in the first half?
Davis has been accused of one clear
inconsistency. He has bitterly criticized
the jazz festivals, has sworn with boilin;
vehemence never to play them again.
but always тсаррса
friend asked him a fe
money,” said Miles. “If 1 do something
I don't like to do, I expect to get very
well paid for it, and those festivals cer-
tainly do pay.” At one festival
mer, Miles received $3500 for one sc
He was told before he went on that ther
was only time for two numbers. Most
leaders would have bee nant, f
ing they wouldn't have time for their
group to build to а properly effective
dimax. “ICS all right with me," said
Miles. “You're paying for it."
Davis concentration on getting what
he considers just financial reward for
his work carries over to his off-thestand
said. Miles
ic. It some-
group thirty
Ast эши
105
PLAYBOY
106
attitude toward попсу. Unli most
sicians who have been graduated to
the higher income brackets, Miles has
invested his profits. Не now gets no less
than $2500 for а onenighter and will
demand — and usually receive — $3500 a
night if two concerts аге expected. of
him. An index of how much he keeps is
that his best-p
Soltrane (now propri
quartet) at somewhat over 5100 а week.
nnonball Adderley never made more
than $350 a week with Miles, although
when he decided to leave to form his
own band last year, Miles vainly offered
him a guaranteed annual wage of
520,000. For club dates, Miles usually
gets $8500 to $1000 a week, sometimes
morc.
Except for his four years in the
pythonlike grip of narcotics, Miles has
rely had major economic problems,
though he's never before been as com-
fortable as һе . The Davis family
had owned a thousand acres
ad Miles’ father, a dentist, for some
усш» has
cows оп two hundred acres in. Milstadt,
Illinois, near East St. Louis. Miles w:
born in Alton, Ilinois, Мау 25. 1926,
but two years later, the family moved
to Fast St. Louis. Miles’ mother, who
has since been divorced from Dr. Davi
was a power in local society. She w
never visibly enthusiastic about Miles’
carly and intense interest іп music. His
father, however, gave Miles a trumpet
for his thirteenth birthday.
Miles played. high school band,
and by the time he was sixteen was
working with a St. Louis combo, Eddie
ndolph’s Blue Devils. He was coni
petent cnough to receive an offer from
the visiting Tiny Bradshaw band to
leave school and go on the road, but
his mother,
his final у
ppalled, insisted he finish
аг of high school. The ex
perience that finally led Miles to resist
his mother’s determination to send him
to. Fisk University was three we
the Billy Eckstine band in and arou
St. Louis. The band, which then
cluded Dizzy Gillespie nd Charlie
Parker, had arrived in town with a sick
third-trumpet player. Dizzy, seeing Miles
at the rehearsal with a trumpet са
drafted him into the band
Miles persuaded his father to send
him to Juilliard, As soon as he arrived
in New York i 945, Miles searched for
Charlie P: 1 him. and roomed
with him for a while. With Parker as
his guide, Miles met many of the young
modernists, and they taught him and
encouraged him. Miles finally went to
work with Parker. He left school and
began to establish a reputation from his
ings with Parker and later from
his work with Coleman Hawkins, Benny
Carter and Billy Eckstine. By the late
Forties, Miles was a bop luminary and
Гон
recor
was already influencing others.
Through the years, Miles has becom
а gourmet of sorts and one of the most
carefully tailored musicians in jazz. Al-
though he appreciates material plea
and owns a $12,600
squanders his money.
said
m cool,
recently to another musician, "so
long as the lights don't go out in Jerse
Гуе got public utilities stock there,
Bernard Baruch after a telephone talk
with his brol Any time I'm worried,
I look over there, see the lights and feel
secure. If I'm very worried, ГИ
J. J. Johnson who
es in Jersey,
ights are still оп. He'll
ГИ say, "Cool and
ask hin his
still
ng up."
Davis as of last accounts owns some
545,000 worth of stock. He reads the
market reports and usually makes up his
own mind as to what to buy, “I travel
a lot," he explains, “and so I sec what's.
happening a lot more clearly than most
people. If a lot of buildings are goi
up, it figures they're soi" to need li
so I buy public utiliüc:
fight in Madison Square C.
that Canada Dry soda pop. liked it,
bought some more, still liked it, found
out they had the sense to put it in cans
for picnics, and bought some stock in it
Miles occasionally takes advice on in-
vestments. One friend told him that месі
ight,
I went to а
den. tasted
profit. He
contemptuous ol
үле for old men.
afe things vou сап
your head and the
funds.
All they do is pick
buy yourself by u
phone.
Miles is proud of his economic self-
sufficiency. “If somebody says," he glor-
nge affluence, “ ‘Miles,
you can't get a job any more; TI
"Solid, and go to Europe and driv
Ferrar
Davis delights in the challenging, i
stantaneous power of his i
nd laments inhibiting American speed
rules. “In Europe," he lectured a fiend,
"you can drive as fast
don't thi t everybody's a fool. No-
body wants to get killed. Nobody's ge
to go à hundred miles an hour in u
Now. Europe is really civilized. If a сор
there sees a Ferrari coming, he stops
traffic and lets it go by. But im thi
country, you can't get pleasure any more
out of drivi Its a funny thing
When you're a kid, your pride and joy
is getting а toy car to play with. You
know, you never get the. boy out of a
man; but when you're grown ир, they
my
shut off that boy and make you drive at
forty-five miles an hour.”
Aside from his automobile, which
Davis drives with casually expert zest.
ther avocation is shooting. When he
its his father's farm in St. Louis, Davis
goes out target prac
rifle. He does not. however. believe іп
hunting with a gun. “Even if you hunt
а tiger, a man with а gun has a ridicu-
lously unfair advanta n animal.
Hunting makes s
the natives go after а tiger
have guns and have to use their wits to
шар him. Another сусп match is hunt
ing wild boars with spears, because if a
wild bo: aches you, he'll елі vour ass
off. Those African safaris make me laugh.
A white man goes on one with nat
doing all the work. l'd like to see some
African Negroes go on a safari all by
themselves. E wonder how they'd do.”
he reference to the hunter's exploita-
n of the natives led а hardy friend
to ask Davis about the occasional charge
that Miles is somewhat of a racist in jazz,
that he doesn't believe most whites are
equal to Negroes іп their capacity to
play origi € jazz. One story
ihe bu ss is of Miles, du Ше nadir
of his career eral years ag
sideman in public on а Detro
stand, "You're playing too goddamn
white tonight.”
Davis laughs at the charge. “T haven't
time to learn to Jim Crow. I've been
busy since | thirteen years old, and
Гуе known enough Crow myself. I
wouldn't want to take the next thirty-
ihree years to learn to be prejudiced.
When I first hired Lee Konitz years ago,
some guys said, "Why do you want an
ofay in your band? I asked them if they
new anybody who could play with a
tone li Гесу. И I had to worry about
nonsense like that, 1 wouldn't have a
band. 1 wouldn't care if а cat was green
and had red breath — И he could play.”
If Davis is not anti-white, he is kugely
anti-jaz critics. “They just don't know
what to say. What is love? Who the hell
will tell you what love is? You have to
find out for yourself. And besides, the
i e always behind times. They
(c over
пзе only in the way
They don't
used to ask me how could I stand Red
nd, Coltrane and Phi
ly Joe, Now
they're praising them."
The criticism Miles does take seri-
is that of the musicians he admires.
“If L told him after a ser,” says а former
sideman, “You didn't play anything,"
that would really bother him."
have been nights when Miles v
the other sidemen were
in his playing, and he'd get off the stand
after а set, muttering, “I'm losing it.”
“If somebody like J. ]. or Gil Evans or
John Lewis is obviously not impressed
by what he’s doing.” says a
files feels a draft."
Among the critics Miles has only a
few personal friends. among the
Gleason, the nationally syndicated San
Francisco Chronicle columnist and Nat
Hentoff. To writers he UD know,
Miles can be traumatically ci
bewilderingly outrageous. During
Pittsburgh date, a team of psychologists
not interested.
doc
astic or
from the University of Pittsburgh asked
him to help in their survey of the psycho-
sociological backgrounds of musicians.
“Well,” Miles croaked, “ГИ tell wh
1 do." And straightfaced, he detailed а
wholly mythical pre-breaklast sexual
ritual that would have appalled Hum:
bert Humbert, Tennessee Williams and
the Marquis de Sade. The psychologists,
diligently taking notes, were hall in
clined to take him seriously, but were
also dawningly suspicious as he added
more graphically athletic details.
“Hey,” the cautious Cannonball Ad-
derley whispered to Miles, "this stuff may
get in print.”
“So what?”
self hugely-
A few years before, a wealthy, rather
at young
cle ou Charlie P.
azine, presumably
at
aid Miles, enjoying him-
ly was writing an arti
ker for a national
n lieu of social
work among the underpriviledged. She
accosted Miles at Birdland.
“Why,” she began, "did they call hi
Bird?"
Miles looked at her for a long time,
and Гог some reason, decided to give
her a relatively straight answer. “Be
cause he squeaked on his horn."
Thats not tue" said the angular
young have found out why. But
I won't tell you."
Miles grimaced. "So you got a secret
now. TI tell you another. Bird was а
friend of mine. I used to put him to bed
sometimes with the needle still in his
arm and him bleeding all over the place.
He used to pawn my suitcase and taki
all my money. You going to put that in
your article?"
The voung lady, ind
sure why, walked aw
Davis himself, however, is sometimes
hurt at the way he's occasionally treated
in the press. In. Minneapolis once, as is
his custom, he refused a local reporter's
invitation to come to the newspaper
ofice Гог an interview. The reporter. his
ego pinched, wrote а merciless personal
attack оп Davis for the next day's paper
“Why do people do this?” Miles asked
his hotel room, "Why does this guy
go out of his way to harm me?"
Miles was made even more furious a
few nights later. А Minneapolis се
nist whom Davis did not know saw Miles
а dub he was playing, sitting between
attractive young lady, The
1 feigned drunkenness, leaned
аду
nant but not
an
heavily on Miles. and slurred out a re-
quest lor Melancholy Baby. М first.
Davis itnswered him with surprisir
politeness, considering the provocation,
but ay the columnist ed in his
Miles told him with sulphurous
finality w leave. The next day, the col-
umnist “exposed” Davis, criticizing the
way Miles talked to innocent custom
who paid their good money to hear him.
Somehow, the columnist omitted all
menuon ol the boorish drunk act he
persi
act,
ers
had put on-
Next to people who inv
хасу, Davis
dislikes are theatr
“IE there are no says
Davis positively, “there'll be no more
jazz How are you going to feel fice
juz concen? And feeling free, alt
I, is the whole act of jazz. There ai
but two things vou can do at a concert
go there and play or go there and s
You can't drink: you can't
па hangeron backstage
le his pri-
most active professional
down.
around." WI
а
sisted in expressing. his belief that the
future ol jazz was on the concert circuit
Miles snorted. “АП right. You listen to
what the musicians зау affer а concert.
Every time, backstage, someone will say,
"Now, where are you gonna blow
can't stretch ош and really play at
concert and you can't make everybody
sit still and feel the same wa The
Germans ied it, and they couldn't
make it work
\s for theatres, Miles is apprehensive
as well as unenthusiastic. “We play
theatre, and they announce ‘Miles Davis
and his orchestra!’ They pull back the
curtain, and there's just me and Col
trane. It frightens me. 1 figure someday
somebody's going to yell out "Hell!
Where's the show? "
During one recent theatre eng
ment in € » аз Miles was about to
icis
start the group's theme, Cohr:
pered, “Sentenced for another seven
days."
whis-
"Shec-i" said Davis іп resigned
agreement, “play the ensemble.”
Unlike most musicians on theatre
not succumb to be
tween shows bars. He
usually works out at a local gym. Feel
ing Habbiness and atrophy of any kind
to be actually dististeful, Davis keeps
himself in physical condition with re
ligious fervor. "Is when you don't do
anything that set sick" he has
hectored friends. He has even given gym
equipment to friends he [eels in urgent
nced of rehabilitation. In the brown-
stone Davis recently bought in New
York's West Seventies т the Hudson.
there'll be a fully equipped gym on the
third floor. That floor will also contain
a ballet bar and classroom for his pres
ent wife, the dancer-teacher,
Frances Taylor.
Women are strongly attracted 10
Miles. A few, who affect to sca
are almost. invariably women who [eel
he has ignored them. In. Frances. how:
ever, warm, intelligent and remarkably
ШЕ essive, Davis has found the we
an closest to his own ideal. “She love
her man, and she’s all woman, If she
hasn't sce
me when I come home."
doesn’t come home some пй
he believes, “understands
get out every once in a whil
dates, Davis does.
boredom and
you
lissome
n him.
me all day, she's all over
And if Miles
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107
PLAYBOY
108
Miles is also very much involved with
his children by a took
у ind
gradually dissolved. The children live in
St. Louis with Miles’ parents. His seven-
aughter has organized а
rock-n-roll group and sings like Betty
Carter, who has coached her. “I know
some girls have an infatuation for their
father,” the girl told Miles a few months
"but I tell you that if Frances
hadn't married you, | would have.”
Miles’ two boys are ten and fourteen.
The ten-year-old is a fledgling wumpe
cr, and the older boy plays drums.
Both are athletes. "They don't get into
fights,” says Miles proudly, "because
they know how to fight." Davis is sp:
with fatherly advice. He’s convinced
that “kids have to find out the impor-
tant things for themselves. But
thing Г never do is talk down to them.
Davis’ affection and encouragement
are hardly limited to his family. He has
advised and befriended several young
mu Sonny Rollins and Јас
McLean were among his protégés, and
when Cannonball Adderley first went
to New York from Florida, Miles tried
to teach him how best to use chords and
Iso clued him as to Ше honest managers
nd record companies. When Cannon-
ball Luter joined Miles and fi
cided to be a bandleader а
encouraged Adderley's ambitions once
he was convinced Cannonball was de-
termined to leave.
Several weeks ago, Miles ran into Joe
Glaser, the most powerful of the jazz
booking Та man renowned
nd feared for his turbulent temper. А
few days before, Glaser had discovered
that two of his veteran assistants had
been planning to set up an office on
their own in five months. He summoned
them to his office, and roared that the
could consider themselves independent
entrepreneurs as of that second. One
of the two is well liked by Miles, and
Davis asked Glaser why he had guil-
wed the agent so hastily
Hell exploded Glaser, “И some
bastard had been playing with you for
fifteen years and then you found out he
one
to yo out on his own,
wouldn't you fire him?
No,” said Miles, grinning. "ld let
I could borrow some
le it some-
“You're Inughing.” Miles continued,
“because you don't need money any
тоге. / never know when ГИ need
some.”
By ment and experience,
rarely likely to brood about
ages іп personnel or possible сот
current sociological
innerdirected. He
lelphia a few months
member of his retinue, wor-
ed, : “Din
to be around
ight hurt bu
"Hell,"
h Wash
the corner
Blon's going
from you. It
“If she packs that
п, s I be an overflow,
Miles
about
cident, “People always want to see
шист get started about some-
There's no 1 an
The
reason to st
argument. s room for
Even when à siden akes
‚ Miles does not believe in blistering
denunciations. ^I never have any trou-
ble with musical discipline, to begin
h,” he expl only hire
Davis corrects his
demen on the job, but rarely loudly
enough for the audience to hear. His
usually along the line of,
You don't have to play all those notes."
Or “This is not the kind of tune for all
those substitute chords. It sounds funny
ppens on the stand and in
own playing through the months
inevitably has ап effect on
other javzmen, and mot only trumpet
players. Miles has influenced several
trumpet players directly — Art Farmer,
Chet Baker, the later Kenny Dorham,
Donald Byrd to some extent, Wilbui
Harden, and even his own earliest n
influence, Clark Terry, formerly with
Duke Ellington's band. Miles used to
follow Terry around St. Louis, and i
п to appre
likely that Miles first beg;
ate the
virtues ol
а solo from Terry.
records, Davis in his teens
he could from Roy Eldridge
Harry James, Bobby Hackett and Buck
er Dizzy Gillespie became
stimulus, but in trying to deal
with Gillespie's style (as had been his
experience earlier with Eldridge and
mes), Miles found he simply couldn't
play as fast and as high as he did.
When he went to New York, Davis be-
increasingly interested іп tonc
Billy Butterfield’s impressed him except
for its vibrato, but Miles was much more
«пами to the date Freddie Webster.
Webster. who didn’t record much and
almost never in a context that provided
hint with extensive solo spa noted
ong musicians for the deeply expres-
sive darity and warmth of his tone, He
was also extremely economical in his
choice of notes. While at Juilliard, Davis
traded information with Webster. He'd
teach Freddie the theory he had learned
1 school. and Webster would try to
show him how to make his tone more
mellow
In recent years, Miles
with the rest of his pla
more assured. Not yet widely realized is
the fact that he has developed one of the
fullest and most attractive tones
uumpeter in jazz іп the lower те
lone —
Miles has also on occasion taken to the
Flügelhorn with its richer sound. АШ
all, the often. pinched, undernourished
sound that used to characterize much of
his playing has filled out; and his conc
tration on sound has influenced scores of
other players to return to a concern with
more tonal body in their playing.
Miles is hardly so self-invelved wi
his own sound or other aspects of his
playing that he fails to keep aware of
what other ns are doing. If he
likes a musician, however, he's rarely
direct in his compliments. He'll tell
other sideman that his own drummer
Jimmy Cobb, for example, "sure doi
Swing.” but not Cobb himself. When he
does hire a man whose mu
he respects, Davis is patient beyond
normal bounds. He may well be the
most permissive employer in terms of h
sidemen's tardiness and general unde-
pendability since Duke Ellington. Miles
thought — and still does — that Philly Joe
Jones is the best drummer in jazz, and
he suffered for months with Jones’ c
genital irresponsibility. Contrary to ru
mor, he never did fire Philly Joe
jazz stoic. Joc just left. Similarly
had pianist Red Garland on the payroll
and Garland is almost uncanny in his
con ity to show up on tim
Miles, however, endured Garland. for
п for a
nd had left the band.
s rarely calls rehearsals, and then
only when а new member has joined the
band or he's written а piece he wants to
immediately. "I rehearse on the
just as Т do all ту pi ng on
the job. Hell, once you've got your hor
under your hands, there's no point i
wasting your free hours on scales." Eve
at the infrequent rehearsals, Davis spends
comparatively litde time on details. One
rundown, a musician
mber. "Well,"
ending the rehearsal,
know how it goes now. You can str
the rest out by yourself."
Miles’ own tastes in jazz are d
ing
саң
hear
nd
He likes few players, but his knowl
ge goes far back into jazz tradition. E
not only remembers sidemen from the
swingera bands, but has more Шап
passing knowledge and apprecis
aubheneidiblucs singers sidh ar ШІ!
Hooker and Big Bill Broonzy
As for his own work, although he has
become the major influence among
enis,
few
g to accuse him
ЗА certain vitality isn't there
any more,” says a drummer. “He lives а
pretty lush lile and his music gets kind
of lush.” A trombonist, who has worked
on several Davis dates, believes that
M deliberately restricted himself
10 а marrow range es and. to safe
ideas. Says another "MI his
talk of increasing the melodic possibili-
ез!
of ne
musician:
Чез of improvisation amounts to his ге-
ducing the number of progressions to an
absolute ит, but he doesn’t fill in
the “chordal void with lots of melodic
lincs. The notes are always within the
same compass and he’s not compensating
for the meagerness of the progressions.”
“Гуе heard Miles,” adds another dis-
sident, “play whole solos with about only
three notes. Monk has sometimes done
the same thing, but Monk will always
surprise you. In recent months, however,
I bave almost always been able to pre-
Miles is going to play. Yet,"
n concedes, "every once in a
while, he does scare everybody.
"I was once with Miles," says a musi-
cally trained engineer, "when he was
listening to alternate takes of a record
session. He invariably rejected those
takes that had clinkers, even though
there were some that were better musi-
cally, despite the mistakes. He was too
concerned with playing it safe.”
Miles scoffs at the accusation that he's
softening with success. “I'm too vain in
what I do to play anything really bad
musically that I can help not doing.
If I ever feel I am getting to the point
where I'm playing it safe, ГИ stop.
That’s all I can tell you about how I
те. I'll keep оп working
until nobody likes me. If I was Secretary
of Defense, ГА give the future a lot of
thought, but now I don't. When I am
hout an audience, ГИ know it before
anybody else, and ГИ stop. That's all
there is to life. You work at what you do
best, and if the time comes when people
don't like it, you do something else. As
for me, if I have to stop playing, ГИ just
drive my Ferrari, go to the gym, and
look at Frances."
MILES DAVIS LP DISCOGRAPHY
(record numbers in parentheses are stereo)
Bags’ Groove Prestige PR-7109
Birth of the Cool Capitol T-762
Blue Haze Prestige PR-7054
Blue Moods Debut DEB-120
Charlie Parker
All Star Sextet Roost RLP-3210
Charlie Parker Story,
Vol. 3 Verve MGV-8002
Charlie Parker's Greatest
Recording Session Ѕакоу MG-12079
Collectors’ Items Prestige PR-7044
Conception
Cookin’ with the Miles
Davis Quintet
Dig Miles Davis with
Sonny Rollins
Early Miles
Prestige РЕ-7013
Prestige PR-7094
Prestige PR-7012
Prestige PR-7168
Jazz Omnibus Columbia СІ.-1090
Jazz Track CL-1268
Kind of Blue Columbia CL-1355
(CS-8163)
Legrand Jazz Columbia CL-1950
(CS-8079)
Miles Prestige PR-7014
Miles Ahead
Miles Davis,
Columbia CL-1041
Vol..1é2 Blue Note BLP-1501, 1509
Miles Davis All Stars Prestige PR-7076
Miles Davis & Milt
Jackson Prestige PR-7034
Miles Davis & the Modern
Jazz Giants Prestige PR-7150
Milestones Columbia CL-1193
Music for Brass Columbia CL-941
Musings of Miles Prestige PR-7007
The Genius of
Charlie Parker Savoy 12014
Le Jazz Cool,
Vols.162 Le Jazz Cool 101-2
Charlie Parker Memorial,
Vol.1 Savoy MG-12000
Charlie Parker Memorial,
Vol. 2 Savoy MG-12009
The Immortal Charlie
Parker Savoy MG-12001
The Charlie Parker
Slory Savoy MG-12079
The Genius of Charlie
Parker, Vol. 8
Porgy and Bess
Verve MGV-8010
Columbia CL-1274
(CS-8085)
Relaxin’ with the Miles
Davis Quintet
"Round About
Prestige PR-7129
Midnight
Sketches of Spain Columbia
(CS-8271)
Somethin’ Else Blue Note BLP-1595
(5-1395)
Workin’ with the Miles
Davis Quintet Prestige 7166
CAMPUS CLASSICS
(continued from page 69)
multicolor weaves. The weight of sports
jackets runs from a feather-light 8 ounces
in a worsted wool synthetic blend to the
standard 10-12-ounce wool Shetlands on
up to the very important revival of beefy
15-16-ounce English and Scots tweeds.
In slacks, the conservative way of
thinking still holds strongly forth. Con-
tinental slacks are big but have been
simplified to leave off extreme fashion
details.
The traditional, plain-front flannel
trouser is popular and the new look in
patterning is a subtle one — tonc-on-tone
window-pane plaids are favored, along
with small patterns in subtly contrasting
colors. Stripes are in the picture but are
used in moderation. Traditional blacks,
oxford grays, blues and browns are back
with us, as well as the country colors—
mixtures of earthy taupe with olive and
bronze accents. Polished cottons and
narrow cord slacks — alas — along with
dirty white bucks or tennis sneakers, will
be scen, we're sure, as long as Thank
God It's Friday clubs continue to flour-
ish, and they show no signs of abating
whatever.
“He claims Haig & Haig is using
subliminal advertising.”
109
PLAYBOY
110
PLAYBOY
READER SERVICE
Write to Janet Pilgrim for the
answers to your shopping
questions, She will provide you
with the name of а retail store
in or near your city where you
can buy any of the specialized
items advertised or editorially
featured in PLAYBOY. For
example, where-to-buy
information is available for the
merchandise of the advertisers
in this issue listed below.
Akom Knitwear,
Brookfield Clothes.
Capps Clothes.
Catalina Sportswear
Cricketeer Suits.
Dickies Veste.
Frye Jet Boots,
ILLS. Sportswear
Holeproof Socks.
Interwoven Socks,
Jantzen Sportswear...
Van Heusen Shirts.
Yashica Radio.
YMM Slacks.
Zero King Coats.
Use this line for information about other
featured merchandise.
Miss Pilgrim will be happy to
answer any of your other
questions on fashion, travel, food
and drink, hi-fi, etc.
Be sure to enclose a self-
addressed, stamped envelope
with your inquiry. If your
question involves items you saw
in PLAYEOY, please specify
page number and issue of the
magazine as well as a brief
lescription of the items
when you write.
PLAYBOY READER SERVICE
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PLAYBOY’S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK
BY PATRICK CHASE
IF YOU HAVEN'T HAD YOUR FILL of sun after
the long, hot summer, hie yourself to
Europe. Fall is first rate practically all
over the Continent, with the pale sun
bringing out an intense life in the cool,
gray cities, brown leaves crisply carpeting
narrow streets, steam curling blue off
your coffee at а terrace café in the Bois
de Boulogne or on the Champs-Elysées.
Everyone feels cosmopolitan, and you
like the vintners’ festi-
ter at the foot of Ger-
зву Drachenfels beside the
Rhine; or drive from Munich to Frank-
furt through the shepherds’ town of
Rothenburg, medieval villages like Nörd-
lingen, where your sleep will still be
broken by the ancient call of the night
watchman echoing along cobbled lanes,
and to castles of the Teuton Knights, like
Weikersheim. The dark old Gothic inns
along the way will offer you pale wines
from casks in cool cellars.
There's a new and nifty wrinkle on
the European travel scene: if you haven't
got time to drive all over the Continent
(by far the best way to sce it) but still
want the freedom of your own car at
least some of the time, you can now pick
up a drive-it-yourself model for part of a
prepaid tour. With it, you get route in-
structions, all the documents you'll need
plus advance reservations at the hotels of
your choice. Then, speed the balance of
your tour by train, plane and helicopter.
One other newish innovation to your
European junket, providing time is no
problem: you add а cruise through
the Mediterranean — with a bonus. What
you do is hop a Zim Lines ship from
many's сга;
Naples or Marseilles to Israel, and they
throw in cight free days at a top hotel in
Jerusalem or Tel Aviv, as part of your
fare, When you make it there, don't
Joll all your time away along the warm
Mediterranean coast. Tour inland to
ancient Crusader castles or their modern
equivalent, Isracl army outposts in the
Negev desert, and to the kibbutzim pio-
neer settlements or Bedouin markets or
Druse villages where tribesmen on racing
camels always scem to be staging Шей
own version of the Arabian Nights.
Israel's different from anything
seen before, and tour costs аге a joke: $40
gets you three days in Galilee, for exam-
ple, including everything.
On the Pacific side of the world, we'd
like to put in a plug for seductive old
Singapore, whose U.S. publicity has been
so poor that the place is generally under-
rated by the “professional” travel peo-
ple. You don't have to stay at the legend-
ary Raffles Hotel (though the service is
about as zippy as any on earth). Matter
of fact, we like the Sca View, four miles
from town on the bay, which is quieter
and cooler (but skip the air-conditioned
rooms; they're small and viewless). For а
change of pace, dig the lovely tropical
port of Penang with its private swim-
ming club (getting a card from а шеті»
isn’t too much of a problem) th:
delight. And don't miss the all
gambling at Macio.
For further information on any of the
above, wrile 10 Playboy Reader Service,
232 E. Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois.
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