PLAYBOY

PLAYBOY

AINM ENT

дай o
1962 ТА Jua im

Churi Zar

8 ل
Also: I'm in the‏ .4
Mood for Love, How‏
High the Moon, etc.‏

| неп,
PE
pi
Am.
КОЙ o
T

3. Also: Moonlight
Becomes You, More
Than You Know, otc.

HARMONICATS
Ред © Ми Heart
Deep Purple.

Tonderly
—10 More

98. "Extraordinaril
beautif
silvery" N.Y.

=.

103. "'Glowingly
beautiful, full of

зт. Clap Yo" Hands,
But Not for Ме, Мап
1 Love, plus 9 more
Rhapsody in Blue
An American in Paris

тер 7

6. Also: Malaguena,
Sabre’ bance, Perf:
Фа, Mam'sello, etc.

02. ТИ Never Sti
Loving You, For АЙ.
We Know, 8 more.

JOHNNY HORTONS
GREATEST HITS.

eo

87. Also: Comanche,
Johnny Reb. The Man-
sion You Stole, etc.

оо Bay,
joonlight Bay
16 "favoritos in all

25. I'm Always Chas-
ing Rainhows, Sere-
nade, 12 in alt

58. “Hilarious - .
С. A. Examiner. Not
available in stereo

тне DATE BRUBECK QUARTET |
7 |

18. Don't Blama Ме,
More Than You Know,
For You, 12 in all

61. All the delight-
ful music from the
year's gayest comedy

Moonlight Levo; ete,

ROGER WILLAMS
YELLOW

17. Gigi, An Affair
to Remember, Green-
sleeves, 12 in all

8. Also: Singin’ т
the Rain, Hello! My
Baby, Ida, etc,

ETE]
FINLANDIA

ent
102. “Electrifying
mance... over-

perfors
whelming"

THE PLATTERS

1. Also: Great Pre-
tendor, Enchantod,
Magic Touch, etc.

THE

PLATTERS

Remember When?

ШУР

ск)

2. Also: Somebody
Loves Ме, Thanks for
Яне Memory, etc.

I've Got
Ünder Му skin,
0 Young, etc.

Unforgattable

15. When 1 Fall in
Lovo, | Understand,
is Ended, etc.

93-94. Two-Record Set (Counts as Two
Selections.) The Mormon Tabernacle
Choir; Ormandy, The Philadelphia Orch,

T
ligh Fd.

А DATE WITH.
THE EVERLY
BROTHERS

73. Cathy's Clown, A
Change of Heart,Love
Hurts, Lucille, ete,

92, The Bonnie Вше
Flag, Battle Cry ot
Freedom, Dixie, etc.

TCHAIKOVSKY:

95. "Fierce impact
and momentum" —
NY. World-Telegram

Kiddio -The Same One
Endlessly 9 Мое
13. Also: So Close,

Hurtin’ Inside, So
Many Ways, etc.

tuan proportions!
N.Y, Dally Mirror

24. Also: Rawhide,
Wanted Man, The
:10 to Yuma, etc.

NEVER ОН SUNDAY

plus 13 more

77. Take Five, Three
to Get Ready, Every-
body's Jumpin’, ete

"The most excit-
ing reading I've ever
heard" High Fidel,

REX HARRISON

JULIE ANDREWS

My ра LAOY
P

iginal Cast record-
ing of all time

PERCY
FAITH.
STRINGS
Tentery
[m

21. Also: Song from
Moulin Rouge, Ebb
Tide, ete.

JEALOUSY
4

PERCY FAITH

22. Also; I've Told
Every Little Star,
Black Magic, etc.

GOLDEN VIBES
LIONEL HAMPTON

ГРА

THE FABULOUS а

JONNY 5

(ered
44. King Kamehame-
ha, Blue Hawaii,
Across theSea,3more.

96. This brilliant
musical painting is
an American classic

Bye Bye Black.
bird, Walkin’, Alt
of You, etc,

gypsy passion

|

)

АНОПЕ KDSTELANC

73. Smoke Gets in
Your Eyes, My Fun-
ny Valentine, ТО тоге

. Вгайомзку
oet of the

FOLK SONGS and
DRINKING SONGS.
from GERMANY

18. "Lighthearted,
winning formality
—HiFi Stereo Review

MARTY ROBBINS

Cool Water
Big Iron

Ti. Also: Billy the
Kid, Running Gun, n
the Valley, etc.

99, “A performant
of manly eloquence’
New York Times

Romance, Theme
from The Apartment,
love Affair, 9 more

69. Also: One More
Ride, 1 Stilt Miss
Someone, etc.

29. Onward Christian
joldiers, Rock of
Ages, 12 in all

“A masterful
t of this mas-
sive werk"— HiFi

27. Нечег Let Me Go,
Jungle fever, Down
By the Riverside, etc.

41. Dark Eyes, Two
Guitars, Нога 'Stac-
cato, 14 In all

90. Lighthearted
singing, lusty and
utterly delightful

. Fandangos, St-
villanas, Alegrias,
Tanguillos, 8 moro

106. “Superbly play-

ed, exciting" Amer.

Record Gui

36. Taking А Chance
ап Love, South of
the Border, 10 more

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BRAND-NEW SELECTION

TOP STARS IN EVERY
FIELD OF ENTERTAINMENT

Classical e Popular « Jazz e Broadway
моме « Humor е Country and Folk

HERE'S THE MOST EXCITING OFFER EVER MADE BY ANY RECORD CLUB! If
you join the Columbia Record Club during its Winter Bonus Festival, you
will receive ANY SIX records of your choice—a retail value up to $36.88—
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cleanirg cloth — an additional value of $1.19 — absolutely FREE.

TO RECEIVE YOUR 6 RECORDS FOR ONLY $1.89 — fill in and mail the postage-
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all future selections) in regular high-fidelity or stereo. Also indicate which
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HOW THE CLUB OPERATES: Each month the Club’s staff of music experts
selects outstanding records from every field of music. These selections
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You may accept the monthly selection for your Division .. . or take any
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Featured Albums of the Month by
these Great Recording Stars

THERE ARE 63 RECORDS IN ALL TO CHOOSE FROM.
55 ON THE OPPOSITE PAGE AND 8 MORE HERE!

ELLA FITZGERALD
30. Mack the Knife. Gone g =-=
With the Wind, Misty, Too |

Пат Hot, etc.

BROOK BENTON and
OINKH WASHINGTON
17. The Two of Us. Call Me,

Love Walked In. 12 in all

m ч
= e n
ұу CANNONBALL ADDERLEY 0
84, Cannonball Adderley DIZZY GILLESPIE
Quintet in Chicago. Wa- GERRY MULLIGAN
DoM o BETAS ME an errep ее нета
. Е to , 2 дет . Afro- 3

Broadway. Take Me sf Jonathan Winters. го ПРИЗИВ — PI Маре Варда CUS swings. i's full of
larious""- HiFi Review Downbeat

Along, 9 more

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= "саши Marcas neg. © Columbia Record Club, Ine.. 1002

The crisp powder snow billows behind
Ber as this lone skier takes ber chances
schussing a precipitous beadwall.

It’s great to take chances
but not on your bourbon
Insist on Walker’s DeLuxe.

Unconditionally elegant. Matured to the
exact moment of mellow perfection.

, 1 STRAIGHT BOURBON WHISKEY = 86.8 PROOF
Walker’s DeLuxe is 8 years old amine ees RC MU

SILVERSTEIN
(right)
and friend

KERSI

|
| PLAYBILL FRIEDMAN

not bonbon adorning this month's cover is
Cynthia Maddox, a 20-year-old Valentine confection who
adorns our offices daily — to our great delight — as full-
time receptionist-secretary and part-time model, exclu-
our pages. Exclusive, too, are PrAYBov's annual
awards which we dispense every February
to the sterling winners in our Jazz Poll. Your choices
for the 1962 Playboy All-Star Jazz Band (total votes
cast in this sixth annual poll, it should be noted, broke
all previous records), and those luminaries selected by
last years winners as All-Stars’ All-Stars, have been
lightly limned by caricaturist Mike Ramus, whose por-
traits provide the proper note of harmony for mus
cologist Leonard Feather’s reprise of the 1961 jazz scene,

The better to hear all this jazz, we invite you to join
us in Fitting Out for Twin-cared Sounds
ppraisal of a quartet of stereo rigs,

discerning

photo-and-text

priced for
new and noteworthy

уа

ісу of aural persuasions and sizes of

money clips. Our definitive survey of wh n stereo gear is appended with sound

ideas on housing your audio equipment.
Tuned in again to the Hollywood m

u is Bernard Wolfe, who, in Anthony from Afar, combines a
nis's compassion with a keen observer's pitiless probing as he lays bare the rodent rage and terror
behind the gladgrin mask of a Tinseltown phony. In that world pecu his own, Shel Silv
cartoonist formidable, has rounded up another absurd menagerie of rhyme-accompanied creatures to provide
s with a zany sequel to December 1960's Silverstein's Zoo. The bearded prophet took time off last August
from his far-out safaris to dream up his delightfully perverse primer, Uncle Shelby’s ABZ Book, later showed
of his facets by unfurling his sandpaper tenor and thrumping guitar at Chicago's Gate of Horn,
prompting one critic to opine that Shel “is one of the best singers who is also a professional cartoonist that

know of.” Undaunted, Silverstein has returned to the seemingly limitless veld of his imagination and
corralled an unheard-of herd of hallucinatory beasties that might have turned Barnum green — not
necessarily with envy.

Enviable, indeed, were praywoy staffers assigned to delineate, verbally and visually, the eternal charms of
The Girls of Rome, the filth in our globegirdling tributes to the lovely ladies of the world's great lands and
cities. Leicester Hemingway's third installment of his powerfully moving four-part biography, My Brothe:
Ernest Hemingway, picks up the thr y's life as he becomes traumatically involved in the
epic wagedy of the Spanish С 1 с leave аз the literary giant — hurtling toward another
conflict — heads for the battlefields of World War 11.

Gerald Kersh departs Irom his usually incisive commentaries on contemporary foibles with The Spanish
Prisoner, а swashbuckling, picaresque melodrama of Douglas Fairbanksian proportions filled with
Spanish beauties, bloodthirsty Bedouins, derring-do and deathless devotion — and а characteristically Ка
Capper that twists the tale to its ultimate irony. We also offer Bruce Jay Friedman's The Investor, a
delicious grotesquerie in which a patient's temperature and the stock market fluctuate in uncanny cadence,
Uncannily acute is Larry Siegel's latest satire, Comedy of Eros, a sharply barbed one-act playlet concerning
that phenomenon of psychiatric togetherness: group therapy. In do-it-yourself contrast is Rolf Malcolm's
The Perils of Passion, а short and decidedly snappy literary quiz anent the exploits of those who have
risked death and fates worse than same (if only in fiction) for the sake of a lingering glance, a stolen kiss
or a night of passionate abandon. Filling out February's bountiful roster is Bugatti, Ken W. Purdy's appre-
ciative apprais al of the man and the classic car; Three Fashion Finds, a gallery of sartorial trendsetters from
the Italian Rivie imely Revival, heralding the return of pocket watches as up-to-the-minute adornments
for the реш s vest; and finally, the finely sculpted configurations of Playmate Kari Knudsen, a Good
Skate fresh from the fjords of her native Norway.

hu

1steir

апо

Anthony from Afar Р. 44

РИ

Girls of Rome. P. 88

Jazz Poll Winners P. 77

GEHERAL orrices, тілувот BUILDING, 23: E.
оню STREET. CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS. RETURN POST.
AGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS. DRAWINGS
AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF THEY ARE TO BE
RETURNED AYD КО RESPONSIBILITY CAM BE ASSUMED
FOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS. CONTENTS согт.
тїбитєр P 1962 ву нин PUBLISHING CO., INE.
NOTHING MAY BE REPRINTED їп WHOLE OR IN PAR
WITHOUT WATTEN PERMISSION FROM THE ТШ
LISWER. ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE АН
PLACES IN ME FICTION AND SEMI-FICHON im THIS
MAGAZINE AND ANY REAL PEOPLE AND тск: 18.
PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREOITS: COVER DESIGN
BY PAUL/AUSIIN. PHOTOGRAPHED ву вон вон
STEIN; P. S PHOTOS BY BRONSTEIN, JERRY сіз,
МАК. 106 covero: p. ав corvnicur © вел. ay
LEICESTER HEMINGWAY, PUBLISHED BY ARRANGE.
MENT WITH WORLD гвивите COMPANY. т. 27
PHOTO зү EUROPEAN: p. 28 PHOTOS BY UPI,
P. 46:49 PHOTOS BY PLAYBOY STUPIO- Р. 31 DRAW:
тунан PHOTO BY POMPEO товат: P.
p ят (їз), MARID сз!
Зони с. ROSS, FRANCO PINKA.

ILLIA STELLI.

vol. 9, no. 2 — february, 1962

CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

PLAYBIL. €(—— MN wo
DEAR PLAYBOY * IES
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS... скара с od
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR = 23

MY BROTHER, ERNEST HEMINGWAY—biocrapny LEICESTER HEMINGWAY 26

ANTHONY FROM AFAR—fiction.. BERNARD WOLFE 44
FITTING OUT FOR TWIN-EARED SOUNDS—modern living 46

COMEDY OF EROS—humo: 5 LARRY SIEGEL 51

SILVERSTEIN'S ZOO—sat е SHEL SILVERSTEIN 52

ROLF МАСОМ 57

THE PERILS OF PASSION—qui
THREE FASHION FINDS—ct

до ROBERT I. GREEN 59

те.

THE SPANISH PRISONER—fiction._ mE er ........ GERALD KERSH 04

GOOD SKATE—playboy's playmate of the month. 66
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor зг 72
BUGATTI—article eee KEN W. PURDY 74

THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STARS—jozr t
THE INVESTOR—fiction. Е

LEONARD FEATHER 77
BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN 84
TIMELY REVIVAL—accouterments. Ss 87
THE GIRLS OF ROME—pictoriol essay
THE EUNUCH—ribold classic

PLAYBOY'S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK—travel___ PATRCK CHASE 136

HUGH м. HEFNER editor and publisher
SPECIORSKY asociate publisher and editorial director

ARTHUR PAUL art direcior

JACK J. КЕЛЕ managing edilor VINCENT T. TAJIRI picture editor

MURRAY FISHER, TOM PAYNE рох WAS associate edito
fashion director; DAVID TAYLOR. associate fashion editor
drink editoi

ROBERT L. GREI
MAS MARIO food &
ATRICK CHASE Dravel editor; J. PAUL GETTY consulting editor, business
and finance; CHARLES BEAUMONI, RICHARD GEHMAN, WALTER GOODMAN, PAUL
KRASSNER, KEN w. PURDY contributing editors: JREMY voie asistani editor;
ARLENE BOURAS copy editor; RAY WiLLiAMs editorial assistant; ney CHAMBERLAIN
associate picture editor: DON BRONSTEIN, MARIO CASILI O POSAR, JERRY YUL!
MAN май Photographers; wew austin asociate ан director; PUMP KAVLAS, Jos
PACZER assistant art diveclors: номавъ mume layout; DOROTHY cit, ша,
РАСЛЕК arl assistants; JOHN MASIRO production manager; FERN HEARTEL assistant
production manager + HOWARD W. LEDERER advertising director: JULES KASE east-
ern advertisin josten raii midwestern advertising manager; VICTOR
LOWNIS їп promotion direcior: NELSON FUTCH promotion mgr-; DAN CZUBAK promo
tion art director; weimur Lorscu publicity mgr; нему DUNN public relations
mgr. ANSON MOUNT college bureau: THEO FREDERICK personnel director, ANE
PILGRIM reader service: WALTER J. HOWAR subscription fulfillinent трт; ELDON
SELLERS special projects; ROBERT 5. REUSS business mgr. and circulation director,

By sports cars?
Wake up and live.
Go see your hometown BMC
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9 Compare!
Moonstruck? Compare BMC warranties and

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Compare prices, models, colors,
power and performance

L3 as most sports car experts

= already have. See for yourself
why there are more BMC sports
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Then sell yourself
with a test drive.
You'll be sold for keeps!
Day and night.
Night and day.

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For additional literature end name of nearest franchised dealer write Superscope, Inc., Dept.2, Sun Valley, California

SUPERSCOPE ТЯ

DEAR PLAYBOY

ЕЗ ^ooness PLAYBOY MAGAZINE + 232 E. OHIO ST., CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS

PANEL DISCUSSION
I have just finished reading the No-
vember Playboy Panel on TV's Problems

and Prospect: with a feeling of I
have been а pLaywoy [an for several
1s. I enjoy Purdy and Silverstein and

the rest, but this last Panel — well, it's
so damned far above anything else that
I've seen in your publication that I feel
obligated to write and congratulate you
As long аз you continue to exhibit a
mature approach toward the problems
and issues of our time, there will be a
devoted following for your magazine.
George С. Kinzer
Auburn, Alabama

David Susskind did not produce
Ману — neither. the television nor the
film version. He had absolutely nothing
spite what 1 read in
пе. The producer re-

to do with cither, d
the November is
ferred to is Fred Coe.

Delbert Mann

Beverly Hills, California

As director of both the TV and film

versions of “Marty,” you should know
what you're talking about, Delbert. We'll
have to share the blame with the “Celeb-
rity Register,” which lists Mr. Susskind
as the producer.

This boob from the provinces was
much intrigued and fascinated by your
Panel. It was like reading а whodunit at
one sitting to see who the culprit w.
Many new ideas upset some old cony

tions on what is wrong with TV. It was
а long piece that seemed fascinatingly
short. Many thanks.
Gerald Robertson
Bellingham, Washington

Having read with avid interest your
Latest Playboy Panel, 1 hasten to com-
mend your mature and eminently fair
approach. The comments were enlight-
ening and reasonable in direct propor-
tion to the speakers experience and
success. Mr. Susskind was peeved because
he hadn't sold а couple ol his package
ideas; Mr. Freberg — always bright —
lampooned the guys who didn't let him

Frankenheimer looked
for a brighter day for his own talents:

go all the way

MY SIN

...4 most
provocative perfume!

and Serling (who started with us here at
WKRC-IV in Cincinnati) showed that
he can overcome the obstacles on talent
alone. But Crosby takes the cake. This
fellow, with no experience of any kind
whatever in ТУ, is doubtless the master
of the prettily turned phrase. The vitriol
of his remarks reflects Ше destructive
attitude of that Ieech upon the aris: the
selLappointed expert. Ш Mr. Crosby had
bothered to exercise the same restraint
he wished on others, he might not have
contributed to the demise of a
budding television series in bygone days
Mr. Crosby considers himself the leader
of a socalled intellectual clite who
claim to be "liberal," but whose very in
tolerance of anyone else's point of view
can only be a destructive force in a free
society. TV can benefi by morc panels
such as your
time invite Bing and leave John to his
smug contemplation of his own little
complacent world.

L. Н. Rogers, П

Executive Vice President
aft Broadcasting Company

Cincinnati, Ohio

John Crosby's television experience

isn’t limited to Ше viewing side of the
ТИ scene, Mr. Rogers. Mr. Crosby lias
in fact, had several shows of his own,
including “The Seven Lively Avis."

mar

As for the Crosbys, next

CONTINENTAL COVERAGE
The November article on The Lin
coln Continental was terrific. АП bands
around here were very much impressed
The photography was outstanding and,
as usual, Ken Purdy did his finest.
Gene Koch
Lincoln-Mereuny
Ford Motor Company
Dearborn, Michigan

Ken's article on Ше Lincoln Conti-
nental was good Purdy — so good, in
fact, that J felt like putting my 1941 rag-
top under glass. Vive le Continental —
vive la difference!

Claude Jackson

Los Angeles, California

Why do you merely іме your
esteemed readers? Although 1 was cer

PLAYBOY, FEBRUARY, 1962, V
PLAYECY, 222 E. оно sT., CHICAGO 1
сн, LOS ANGELES, A721 BEVERLY BLVD,

NEW SUBSCRIPTIONS AND RENEWALS. CHAI

E oF ADDRESS: SEND BOTH OLD AND HEW ADDRESSES T

the {рф уйи du to dhu

Purse size $3; Spray Mist $5;

ЕОС А MED ушш ыш

PLAYBOY

10

Give her
an island
anda

Paper:Mate

the most
EXCITING ALBUM
of the year

with music

from the
GREATEST
PICTURE

of the

UNTED ARTISTS ALBUM

UAS GIGHISTEREO!
UAL звеоно

THE PROUDEST NAME
IN ENTERTAINMENT

tainly happy to be able to read about
the most excellent Lincoln Continental.
I am perverse enough to want to have
read more about it, Surely vou might
have allowed the capable Mr. Purdy to
write a bit more thoroughlv on this
glamorous subject, since so many of us
hoi polloi have to be content with these
flimsy flivvers made nowadays

Jay Wilfong

Lakeland, Florida

For more of Ken Purdy's automotive

expertise, sce his report on “Bugatti,”
the man and the machine, on page 74 of
this issue

REDACTORS RE REBUS
Mr. Siegel's Nary а Cros Word got
crossed up. Can you picture the final
death scene with the desperate husband
and his adulterous wile Бош lying оп
the floor dying, with a knife (kris) pro
truding from cach of their lower arms?
Had Shakespeare tried ihis particular
point of vulnerability, would not many
of our classic heroes still be bleeding to
death? The ulna, vou realize, is one of
the two parallel bones placed between
the elbow and wrist.
Richard Allan Friedman, M.D.
Зап Francisco, California
L is, you'll agree, а terrible way to

die.

I was replete with felicity upon pe-
тиза of Larry Siegel's Nary a Cross
Word in your November isuc. It was
manna to my fatigued retinas.

Rudy Littlefield
Wiesbaden, Germany

My kepi is off to Larry <
Navy a Cross Word.

el for his

Chuck. Neuens
Chicago, Illinois

TOKYO ROSES
I am in Tokyo on the trail you pre
scribed im your November Playboy on
the Town in Tokyo — sans expense ac
count, I will testify that your article was
factual to the mínutest deuil.
Colonel Bill Miller
Tokyo, Japan

Your pic shows a “wet back” larhered.
up while sitting in the tub. There's
old Japanese saving: "Soap in tub is
verboten.” Soap is applied and removed
a tiled area adjacent to the tub. Water
is scooped out of the tub with the metal
basin shown in the photo and poured
on the bather.

Stuart Schwartz
Laurel, Maryland
What you say is usually the case,
Stuart, but there ате any number of
modern Japanese who [md suds lo-
getherness more fun than the tub pro-
tocol of their ancestors.

WIN YOUR LETTERS IN STYLE! MAKE A SPLASH IN SLIM-LINE

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with three letters... HIS

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PLAYBOY

12

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13

THE MOISTURIZING
HAIR DRESSING
FOR MEN

MEDICATED ТО FIGHI DANORUFF

My planned business-pleasure trip to
Tokyo will, 1 am sure, be much enhanced
as a result of your article.
George O'Donnell
Beacon, New York

Your writer obviously became disori-
ented by the joys of Japan, Unless things
have moved around since last I was
there, beautiful Mount Fuji is south
west, not “northwest of the capital city,"
as you stated. the next-to-last para
graph of your otherwise excellent article.

Malcolm Н. Moss, M.D
New York, New York

Your diagnosis is absolutely correct,

doctor.

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

Kudos to the authors of your Playboy
After Hours section, especially the young
man writing the movie reviews. They are
the equivalent of the cherry topp
a whipped-cream Бан

ng on

E. X. Eichelberger
Portland, Oregon

Your review of Splendor in the Grass
was pathetic, to say the least. This movie
should be required viewing for every
Educational Psychology class taught at
respectable colleges. It portrayed very
well the clements of tragedy, and anyone
unmoved by the diffused implications of
young love must be “way out.” Granted
а few incidents were overworked, but not
to the extent alluded to by your so-called
reviewer. It seems that, to your critic,
iovies are unacceptable unless they reck
with raw sex. Take off your esoteric
façade and look at the world sans the
morality of a sex ша
R. Greg Iles
San Francisco, California
PLAYBOY'S review took issue with acne-
age erotica that has а pat plot line
artificially constructed on a box-office
foundation of sex.

Unwittingly, you created a new
time and party game with the first item
in November's Playboy After Hours
which matched book titles with rhymi
authors names. 1 mentioned this amus.
ing fancy to some friends, and it caught.
once. Before the evening was over,
we had devised the following combina-
tions: Antic Hay by Zane Grey; Huckle-
berry Finn by Eriol Flynn; The Man
Who Came to Dinner by Cornelia Otis
Ski

er,

Allen СЪ

Brooklyn, New York

Thanks, Allen Glasser, удите а gas-

ser, so heres а pair for you: “Auntie

Mame” by Billy Graham and “War and
Peace” by Pee Wee Reese.

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

rhe other day, amidst the eternal fall-
out of press releases, publicity hand-
outs and news clippings which crosses our
desk, we happened across three items
that gave us pause. The fist was a
squib — written in standard upper-case
flackese — for a Mad Ave PR account en-
agingly letterheaded in the finest Young
Married tradition: “SHELTERS FOR
LIVING.” The purpose of the piece, we
learned on further inspection, was to
nnounce a "SPECIAL NEWS PEG.”
FIRST TIME A FALLOUT SHEI-
TER WILL BE HAULED INTACT
THROUGH NEW YORK STREETS
AND EXHIBITED IN GRAND CEN-
TRAL STATION,” the copy bellowed,
then went on with helpful suggestions
for picture possibilities: "DRAMATIC
CONTRAST SHOTS OF SHELTER
AGAINST NEW YORK SKYLIN
RUSSIAN EMBASSY, UNITED NA
TIONS BUILDING.” The shelter, we
were informed, is in effect a “Family-
Library-Music room within stout, scien-
tifically engincered walls . . а beautiful

addition to any family’s plan for pleas
Included was a quote from

ant livin;
the “well-known interior designer" who
worked оп the shelter: “I have плей...
to make a shelter a place of repose and
buoyant relaxation.
The second item which caught our at-
tention was a piece in a San Francisco
paper noting a local trend: certain dis
criminating and foresighted citizens have
already stocked their shelters with cham
pagne and caviar for a "rainy" day.
The final eye-stopper was а small box.
on the front page of Variety, reporting

that a “veteran publicistdistrib has
formed Survival Films to distribute
lómm and 8mm pix for use in fallout

shelters." This worthy was quoted as
saying, "Claustrophobia being the princi-
pal consideration, the pictures will be

comprised of outdoor subjects and trave:
logs, in addition to inspirational mes-
sages by world leaders."

Now, we don't intend to enter here
into the national imbroglio on whether
building fallout shelte: intrinsically
а good or bad thing. What does concern
us is the picture we're unable to erase
from our mind of a young family snugly
ensconced in the buoyant relaxation of
its Family-Library-Music room shelter,
sipping the bubbly and watching the
truelife adventures of Nikki, Wild Dog
of the North — while above them civili-
dissolves into radioactive dust.
When one considers the inventiveness
of the friendly merchants who are doing
their best to sustain this fantasy, one
can only stand in awe of the extraordi-
nary adaptability of human avarice. It
is indeed bizarre that history's illest wind
is blowing good, swiftly and surely, into
the coffers of the commercial carpetbag-
gers.

With gentle sarcasm, New York Times
columnist James Reston recently ob.
served, “One of the truly touching things
in this county today is the thoughtful-
ness and kindliness of thc
build fallout shelters. No
zens is showing more soli
future well-being of the nation .. ." We
agree—though of course this group
should also include those kindly and
public-spirited men who outlit shelters
with the better things of life. Its all too
casy to imagine а typical brainstorming
session in a Park Avenue citadel (in-
wise, advertisingwise, Park is on the rise,
Mad Ave on the wane) wherein such
soothing concepts as reposeful shelters
are hatched.

АП right, gang,” the account exec
purrs to those assembled, “let's bombard
a few atoms and see if they split. Holo-
caustwise, we've got to sell the country

zation

men who
group of citi-

itude for the

on the upbeat angle, make them believe
that surviving an atomic attack is really
а fun thing. You know, the whole bit —
an opportunity for Mom and Dad and
the kids to knit the family unit closer
together. Get the picture? The family
that burrows together stays together. IE
we work it right, we can even make sur-
vival a status thing — show how the chic
shelter hostess stocks her electric john
with decorator-colored toilet tissue, serves
vintage bubbly instcad of distilled water,
and like that. As I sce it, if we get a few
breaks—a loi more atmospheric test
ing and a couple more of those 50-
meg jobs — we'll be sitting in clover. One
thing we've got to get the lab boys
working on, though — builtin obsoles-
cence..."

We've striven mightily to find a silver
g in the atomic cloud, and think
ve found it: if nothing else, these
are а reassuring argument
Tor the continuation of the species. Even
if the earth is singed to a black crisp one
of these days, we are confident that, with
or without shelters, the versatile entre-
preneurs of our time would prove in-
destructible. Rising phocnixwise from
the ashes, they would soon be busily ped-
dling goods to one another — market-
arched bludgeons and duplex co-op

caves. Get the picture?

Stenciled on a door at the Ford Motor
Company Engineering Division in De-
MERGENGY EXIT — NOT TO ве

troit: ust
UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES.

For a new twist on the game of mat-
ing unlikely same-name couples, first sug-
gested in these pages July 1960, add
familial pairings of people and institu-
tions, like so: Bobo and Oysters Rocke
feller, Miriam and Johns Hopkins, Emily
nd Washington Post, Sally and Sperry

5

PLAYBOY

5

OO0OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOCOOOOO00

English
Leather’

the SHOWER SOAF
оп а cord, packed in a
redwood box, $2.00.
Paired with ALL-PURPOSE
LOTION, $4.00 (ptus zoe
129. for the set,

MEM COMPANY

67 Irving Place, New York

O000000000

PAUL NEWMAN
ОП CAMERA
AND (ЇНЇН

At the apex of his acting career,
Paul Newman takes a "Sweet
Вид" in hand with a firm grip on
the cinema box office. How did
Newman cast off the method mold
and emerge a distinctive and
powerful cinema idol?

You'll find out in

SHOW BUSINESS ILLUSTRATEO. Оп sale
at your newsdealers January 24—
February 6.

SBI

шшр осе NE LION IONS CNIS)

OoooooOococO

and Montgomery Ward, Mary
nd Madison Square Garden, Jocy and
Hazel Bishop. ita and Camegie
Hall, Olive and Standard Oyl.

nconcernedly down the San
y toward Los Angeles
our eve was caught
billboard for Rose Hills
Memorial Park. Its message: RECKLESS

DRIVERS— WE DIG YOU THE MOST.

We applaud academic freedom, but
this is ridiculous; Irom a localinterest
item in an Ilinois weekly — “Making

the most of her hard-won scholarship,
Julie was named to the Dean's Lust in
her very first semester.”

In Westhampton, Massachusetts, five
apple-checked Boy Scouts marched reso-
lutely into the woods for their compass
test. They were lost lor 23 hours.

MOVIES

Flower Drum Song, the Broadway show
that put the goo in moo goo guy pan, is
now dribbling over the screen. Rodgers
and Hammerstein wrote the sweet, un-
pungent songs for which they may some-
day be forgiven. The dialog has been
served up with a worn chopstick by
Joseph Fields. The story, from а novel
by C. Y. Lee presumably adapted from
the contents of a stale fortune cookie,
deals with Hong Kong girl who goes
to San Francisco with contract for mar-
ge to night-club owner who is in love
with star. Star, in turn, is pursued by rich
boy, good egg; but is egg too young to
choose own wife? Honorable father think
so. Meanwhile loves rich boy
unrequitedly s about him in
ballet full of. Freud rice. The complica-
tions would drive a Hitch Best
the star,
g 1 Enjoy
- Best scenery in film: Nancy

п triple m
Being a Gi
Kwan's legs.

A Greek tragedy about
shoremen in Brooklyn sounds improba-
ble, but Arthur Miller made a worthy try
ar it in his play A View from the Bridge.
The film version ladles thick brown сабе.
teria gravy over the spare Spartan dict
of the original. The simplicity, the un.
derstatement —all gone; in their place
another waterfront picture with shiny
jackets, shiny forcheads, shiny streets.
Eddie Carbone, a Brooklyn longshore-
тап, is sube usly in love with the
niece he has reared. He helps smuggle

no the country а couple of cousins from
ly, Marco and Rodolpho. Rodolpho
and the go zoom! Eddie, tormented
by а jealousy he can't acknowledge, tips

off the Feds about the brothers, and
Marco kills him. (Oops. . That's the
play. In the movie Marco just beats him
publicly, and Eddie does himself in with
a baling hook.) Norman Rosten's adapta
tion is full of dusty play-adapting devices,
and Sidney Lumet's direction is spotted
with look-at-me cleverness, but the inter-
national cast wrings some drama from
the doings. Although Raf Vallon
Jean Sorel (Ед е and Rodolpho) have

tough time with English, they can сопусу
power ge. Maur
ton is appropriately bewildered

and Carol Lawrence, the niece, is
g Brooklyn fawn. The film is
ng just for Raymond Pellegrin,
able French actor who plays
. But divested of its Greek girdle,
the whole affair suffers from Canarsie

Wie geht's at the Brandenburg Gate?
Well, until the Russians built the wall
to keep all the oppressed West Germans
from flooding in, the fronticr was frenct-
ic, according to Billy Wilder's comedy,
One, Two, Three. James С head of
Coca-Cola in West Berlin, and his Frau
(Arlene Francis) are chaperoning his boss’
Vr-vear-old. daughter, The kid turns up
married to an East German Communist
(Horst Buchholz). Cagney speeds to get
the marriage annulled — only the girl
turns out to be pregnant, and Cagney
has to speed to get the marriage un-
annulled. The boss then phones from
Айана that he'll be there next day, and
Cagney has just a few hours to make a
bourgeois out of Buchholz. Wilder and
I. А L. Diamond, who ned their
portion of Paradise with Some Like It
Hol, have modernized One, Two, Three
from a Molnar comedy
Бие and occasio
reaching for a laugh. (When a chap with
а monocle embraces Buchholz, hc leaves
monocle in the young n суе) It's
pretty wild Wilder, but, still chuckling
over the final sight gag — which we won't
spoil in print—we vote Ja.

вису,

RECORDINGS

Clep Hands, Here Comes Charlie! (Verve)
finds Ella Fitzgerald succinctly sur-
rounded by a rhythm section as she
chronicles the tuneful foibles of 30 years
of pop а; с themes delineated
are disparate in quality and content,
ranging from the lovely and too-seldom-
ard Good Morning Heartache to that
ne ditty of the Thirties, Music Goes
"Round and 'Round, which is really not
worth Miss Fitz’ attentions. But be the
basic material good, bad or indifferent,
its metamorphosis under Ella's aegis is,
as always, magical. A similar survey of

шеше
Binding

Са p

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PLAYBOY

18

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OOOOOOOOOOCO

THE CLAN
OUT WEST

Sinatra and his band of Rough
lers do a Greeley into the
Open spaces, using mesquite,
mustang and other frontier phe
потепа as a backdrop for th
latest epic. Photos by Sammy
Davis Jr. record this western
Clanbake in

SHOW BUSINESS nLUsTRATED. On sale
at your newsdealers January 24—
February 6.

ооо

O

о

©
© O
© ©
© ©
[9] ©
© O
O (Ө)
© ©
о ©
(Ө) ©
© ©
© ©
О О
© ©
© O
© ©
O ©
© ©
O O
O O

OOOOOOOOO

anthems old and new, bright and blue,
is undertaken by Ann Richa:
Men! (Atco). While Miss Ri
enchanting eyeful, lacks Ella's extra
ordinary vocal skills, she is, nevertheless,
an accomplished songstress at her best
when she can belt out a lyric. In this
vein, Yes Sir, Thai's My Baby, Is You 15
or [s You Ain't My Baby and Evil Gal
Blucs are very much her métier. Also
offered delightful reprise of An
Occasional Man, an eloquent reminder
of its engaging attributes. No such audio
attractions are apparent on Ey
Gormé's I Feel So Spanish! (United Artists).
Evdie's first-rate talents are submerged
in а morass of stodgy, soporific and sac-
charine Latin refrains. Don Costa's
stereo-typed orchestrations do their best
to drag Miss h them.
In most cases, unfortunately, they suc-
ceed. The supremely successful firm of
Lambert, Hendricks & Ross (check the
Jazz Poll results, page 185) have issued
another dividend, High Flying (Columbia),
which confirms their status as harmony's
fat cats. The items tendered are all late
arrivals on the jazz scene. L, Н & R turn.
the au courant into the de as
they wend their surrealistically poly
syllabic way home with the Ike Isaacs
Trio in expert attendance.

Collectors, please note. The Essential
Charlie Porker (Verve) is the Bird's monu-
mental output for that label distilled
to its onc-LP essence, Parkers pro-
ious alto is found in thc company of
Davis (when Davis was still in
the osmosis stage), Monk, Hodges, Web-
ster and Roach. Oddly enough, Funky
Blues and KC Blues, which can hardly
be called typical of the Parker rep
toire, gave us our biggest boot; they
show a rootsbased Bird—a rara avis,
indecd.

mé down w

Eighteen years ago the Nat Cole Trio
cut its initial disc for Capitol, Straighten
Up and Fly Right. Almost two decades
later, the trio and its sound have dis-
appeared, except for a
series and the nostalgic remembrances of
the fans of the Forties. In recent years,
Nat Cole has gone it alonc, as one of
the top attractions in showbiz, rarely
compromising the straightforward, warm
style that first called attention to him
Now, in a recapitulation of a satisfying
car we have The Маг “King” Cole Story
(Capitol), а three-LP re-creation of some
of the "King's" best recorded moments.
With top-caliber studio men забзас
for Nat's original cohorts, the crooner
revisits trio territory (For Sentimental
Reasons, Roule 66 and others) and the
orchestral realm (Lush Life, Mona Lisa,
Ballerina) in а 364шпе recapping. It's
a deserved tribute to one of the most
consistently listenable singers around.

pitol reissue

THEATER

With Gideon, Paddy efsky deserts
the Bronx for the Bible and ach
most affecting work to date. U

ves his
g three

chapters from the book of Judges, the
author of Marty recasts in colloquial
terms the Old Testament story of how
God, walking the
farmer Gideon

arth, saw the humble
nd chose him to lead the
of Isracl to victory over
ite marauders. Tyrone Guth-

rie, characteristic vigor, keeps a
large cast of actors in constant transit
across David Hays drab-tented, rock-

strewn stage, but only two are central to

this parable of man's relationship to
God: Fredric March as а majestic Je-
hovah in flowing black robes and with
gray hair and beard, and Douglas Camp:
bell, a Gideon clothed in homespun and
ignorance. Here is a very human Al
mighty who can love Gideon yet des;
him a little, like a tolerant father with
a backward child. And here, awakening
to change and growth, is Gideon, the
bewildered oaf who feels his first stir
of rebellion with his first rush of
vanity, the faltering individualist. who
cries out in frustration that the Lord is
"too grand a concept" for mortal com-
prehension, and rejects all further parley
with his God to seek out his own des:
tiny as a шап, Chayelsky's restatement
of biblical profundities brings boldness
and originality to the Broadway season.
At the Plymouth, 236 West 45th Street.

The musical biography of Edmund
the great Shakespearean actor of
Пу 19th Century, is an overwrought
ganza that has almost everythin;
going for it except a book sturdy enough
to support the production. This is a flaw
that will be readily disregarded by Alfred.

fans who have been i ntly
awaiting his return in another flamboy-
nt role met of 1
Keon grants their wish, along
icum of dividends. Ed Wiustein’s sets
and costumes offer a colorful cross sec-
tion of Regency London from the haunts
of thc haut monde to the alleys and ale-
houses of pimps, bawds and pickpockets.
Director-choreographer Jack Cole alter-
nates spasms of kaleidoscopic action with
arty interludes, and the Robert Wrigh
George Forrest score, if undistinguished,
makes for easy listening. Although Peter
Stone's libretto stems from sound sources
(Jean-Paul Sartre out of Alexandre. Du-
s fil). it falters between Kean, the
brawling, wenching “King of London,"
handy man in a bordello or a boudoir,
and Kean, the brooding, introspective
actor in search of his own identity. Is he
anything besides an extension of Shake-
speare's tr sks himself.

Linger Awhile

with Vi с
Damone

Swingin’ in a tender mood

After the Lights Go Down Low « Deep Night « Linger Awhile
Sella by Starlight + Change Partners» When Lights Are Low
Music « [n the Still of the
and Dance » Clase Your Eyes
ee Sait Jt Адия < Owe face

With Jack Marshalls music

_ ————

Forget the flowers. Don’t bother with the wine.
Skip the candlelight. This is all you need.

Just turn on the phonograph and slip this album onto the
turntable. Then just watch what happens to her when she
hears Vic sing tunes like "Stella by Starlight... Close
Your Eyes... Linger Awhile... Change Partners... Deep
Night, ..One Love...Soft Lights and Sweet Music...
Let's Face the Music and Dance... When Lights are Low

.-In the Still of the Night... After the Lights Go Down
Low...There! I've Said it Again."

She'll wriggle out of her shoes, curl up sensuously, and
make a lot of nice romantic gurgling sounds. That’s the
effect of the new Vic on the pretty ladies. We call him
“new” because it's true. You've never heard him sound
so warm, so intimate, so subtle. And with these gently
swinging, danceable arrangements, he’s А
nothing less than great! For guaranteed
results, this is all you need. Trust us. © carrot пегопов. mc.

19

Readers Digest

invites you to choose

fromthis exciting new list of GO nationwide hits!

950 and 950-8.

comet's

THIS TWO-
DISC RECORD-
ING counts os
two selections

. Enter each
umber in sep-
arate space on

124. Prisoner of Love,
Till the End of Time,
Temptation, athers.

Барсе
291. Rich Spanish
Суру moods spun by
the peerless cuiterist

214. Also: Blue Skies,
Goody Goody, The Lady
Is a Tromp. 6 others.

325, Sirovinsky credits
Mont 1

276. Year's best-selling
cleuicol record. Leins
ок! conducts.

1-Аве 10 more soothing
instromentols —
Were Yoo, otters

FRITZ REINER
CHICAGO SYMPHONY

e +
DEEP иш! нш, ил + SERME

243. Plus: other Rom-
berg delig

4. Younger Thon Spring-

lime, Same Enchanted

Evening, 13 more hits.

TENDERLY . DIANE
SEPTEMBER SONO.

24. Plus Teo Young.
Warsaw Concerto,
Charmaine, others.

COMPOSED AND
совоистео By =

HENRY MANCINI

220. Best-selling mod-
em ier album from
the TV series,

250. Epic film score
tortciring original ver-
sion of Ihe hit theme.

219. County-pop stor
also sings Dear Неси
спа бете People, elc.

CHET ATKINS?

a
TUA

pnl ТИ THERE.
9757

Pete Fountain, Clarinet

та
=,

Ат THE Jazz BAND BALL

102. 12 Dixieland clos-
sics in ultre hi fi: Tiger
Rog, The Scints, теге.

212. Plus: Sleep Welk,
flc, in zesty, тегт
slonted dance tempos.

269. Nation's hottest
folk-singing irio re-
corded in concert.

STELLA BY STARLIGHT

274. And 10 more by
TV trumpet stor with
swing bond/strings

236. Lively, new ni

club act by hilarious
country-ityle comics.

4o ArTHE DM,
M cers!

103. “Muted
trumpeter, quo
NAT Tog. СР Сп,

~ [esca]
эз; 9514, RENI

951 пате Own Self

Collector's delute bum] The | 16-PAGE

пон! populer band lecder whe | SOUVENIR

ver lived leds hie slor.studded

erchestrc fecturing Morion Bir PROGRAM

fon, Tex Boneke, Roy Eberi

The Modernci
telecsed for the
‘This 3-record set counts as 3 selections. En-
ter each number in separate space on coupon.

267. Delight your
friends with this unique
Southam comedy act.

Nc]

tibia VON. FASCINATION = MISTY

304. Soric conversa
piece feotures col
role, Beethoven.

270. Leisurely,
melodies incl
«inction, others.

204. Authortic Istond
moods. Sweet Leil
Aloha Oe, 10 others

TCHAIKOVSKY I-
SYMPHONY No. 4
у.

SONS OF THE Pion

1 танги
MONTEUXIBOSTON SYMPHONY ма WHEELS
316. "A compendium.
of morvels. sublime,"
noted The Reporter.

309. Glowing hi
performance of this
richly melodic score.

292. Alio: Red River
Valley, The Lost Rourd-
Up, 18 Western gems.

BIGHITS PRADO T:

PATRICIA MAMBO #5

CHERRY PINK AND
APPLE BLOSSOM WHITE
MAMBO JAMBO

record
ing of c superbly ro
mantic mosterpiece.

281. And 8 more of bis
top Latin dence bond
hits in "new sound.”
AMES BROTHERS

inA Flot, Minute Woltz,
erc. (Regular L.P. only

JN. SA
Wayne
Т King
WALTZES YOU
SAVED FOR ME

MUOVE VOU EPULS
Alice BLUE GOWN

"hom ree NO WORE

275, Fovorite, dreomy
waltzes ployed sweet
ond soft. (Reg. LP.)

14. Love Is а Mony -
Splendored Thing,
топу more favorites.

j, Electronic stereo

finest perlormances.

[coma
о 9) GLENN MILLER
Weis) ORIGINAL HITS
= -AFRICAN NERIS |
ШШ сесии Тито PUENTE

145. Also: Kolemazoo.
Tuxedo Junction, 7
more Tavorites.

19. Powerful native Al-
ficon percussion- For-
слово sors Мое

211. Crackling beet
of irresistible rhythms.
ployed ky the master!

This is the
NORMAN

2.
Tion hit c bun. All-ster
modem “mood” jazz,

HEY THERE - TOO YOUNG

261 „Also; Secret Love,
Unchoined Melody, et
by new vocol sensa!

295. Also: Wonderland
by Night,
с. by piono ace.

Donny Boy,

LUBOFF cuor

298. My Proyer, Eost
Ef the Sun, elc. Mellow
instruments,

4 composed and -

_ceonductad hy
^" HENRY MANCINI

The original ТУ-ос-

342. Ficno, full orch.
Over The Rainbow,
Night And Dey, others,

The [came]
SUCHTY rena
LIMELITERS

WORKSHOP

280. Guitor viriuoso
loys Lulloby of Bird.
lond, Morie, others.

333. Noture's moods
alized in this

brilliant tore poem.

BIRTH OF THE GLUES
MOOD INDIGO

293. Sophisticated
оду, Deep Purple, St
louis Blues, more.

о

WE DOES Reader’s Digest Music make this

nerous offer? Simply to prove to you how eco-
nomically your family can enjoy a new adventure in
musical living. Now that Reader's Digest Music has
taken over operation of the new RCA Victor Record
Club, you can take your choice of the best-sellin;
popular music of our time...the bestloved classica
music of all time... for far less than you would normally
expect to pay. Now, through the new RCA Victor
Record Club, you can enjoy these seven benefits
unequalled by any other record club.

1. Upon joining, you may have any 5 records for
only $1.87, plusa small charge for handling and postage.
You select one record FREE for each two you buy after
fulfilling your introductory agreement—with a tremen-
dous range of music from which to choose your
dividends.

2. A fascinating new magazine, Reader's Digest
Music Guide, free each month, edited by music experts
and available exclusively to Club members.

3.You get the widest possible choice in selec-
tions... . symphonic or popular, Broadway or light classi-
cal, jazz or opera... several hundred each year from the

world-famous RCA catalog.

4. Records are selected by the editors of the
Reader's Digest Music Guide, then pre-tested with

Say It With Music—All The Word wilt
Listen я “Sing From The Heart,” 1 Told Perry
Сото = Making Music Come Alive For Your
Children ж How Van Cliburn Recorded The
“Emperor " Concerto

RCA Victor records

| J EL
stereo or regular L.P. for only

If you join the new RCA Victor Record Club now
and agree to purchase only 5 records during the year ahead

panels of Club members to assure that all selectiens
are ones Chib members most want to own.

5. You can also acquire special records made for
Club members only—records you cannot buy elsewhere
at any price. They are superbly recorded by RCA to
meet the exacting standards of Reader's Digest Music.

6. You'll like this convenient, error-free “armchair”
shopping plan that lets you pay for your records after
receiving them and while enjoying them.

7. If you are ever dissatisfied with any selection, you
may return it within 10 days for full credit or exchange.

How The Club Brings You
The Best In Music

EACH MONTH you will be offered а Featured
Selection for the Division you join—either Popular ог
Classical. If you want this record, you need do nothing.
It will come to you automatically. Or, you may choose
any other гей you wish from either Division, cr take
none at all that particular month.

Shown on these pages are records typical of the high
quality and unusual variety available through the new
RCA Victor Record Club. Select the five you want
most. To begin enjoying the many benefits of member-
ship, fill in the handy coupon today.

RCA VICTOR RECORD CLUB,

c/o Render'a Digest Music; Ine.

P. 0. Box 3, Village Station, New York 14, New York
Send me the 5 RCA Victor records whose numbers I have
filled in below. billing me only SILET. I agree to purchase
during the year ahead, 2 additional records, at the Manu-
ата Nationally Advertised Prices j(Gerally (83.98 Гос
Popular, £4.98 for Classical; stereo an additional $1.00). 1
d a small Вапа! ıd postage charge, plus sales/
use taxes where applicable, will be added to each shipment.
Thereafter, for every two additional records T purchase, E
will receive a dividend record of my choice, FREE.

SEND ME THESE 5 RECORDS (Fill in numbers here)

е

Puccini =

TURANDOT

341. New colypso ol-
bum Belafonte lons

have waited ó yrs. for. ERICH LEINSDORE, ‘Conductor

This 3-disc set counts as 3 selections...

TSCHAIKOVSKY Enter each number separately on coupon.

VIOLIN CONCERTO

Reiner» Chicago Symphony ; 952A; 9528. Complete operc with Ti-
Celebrated cost! Bravos from the critics:

nas. "The Turondot one hos мойе for, ond it super-

jerprélelion sedes cll pr TN. Times. lt

by Heifetz ond Reiner. ranks оз o milestone" — Hi/Fi Stereo Review

Enroll me in the following
Club.

Division of the Ci
CLASSICAL. POPULAR

(Check only one)

(please print)

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City... Sin
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RCA Victor Dealer, please fill in below.
Dealer.

Send no money. A bill will be sent. Records can be shipped
only to residents of the U.S., its territories and Canada.
Records: for Canadian members sre made in Canada and
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PLAYBOY

22

49 PROOF

The difference between
eating and dining is

CHERRY HEERING

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PLAYBOY PRODUCTS

232 East Ohio St,
"Chicago 11, Illinois

his boozy, bosom companion, the
с Regent (Oliver Gray) regard.
as equal or as equerry? And do his do:
—a bitchy Danish countess (Joan V
don) and a stagestruck hire
Venora) — love him for his performance
off stage or on? This soliloquizing doesn't
mix well with the musical comedy for-
mula. What snatches Kean back from the
yawning brink is Alf
affinity for the S
and his bravura impersonation of a mag.
nificent mountebank. At the Broadway,
Broadway and 53rd Street.

BOOKS

The hero of Robert Penn Warr
novel Wilderness (Random House, $4.95)
Ба Bavarian Jew whose given name,
»d deformed foot announce that
ads for guilty humanity in the
large. Resolved to serve the Northern
ause in the Civil War, Adam comes to
where he surmounts obstz

uccess in these tests is, in some
way a failure, each act of fidelity a
desertion, Feeling totally devalued, he

crosses аг last the crucial river to the
Wildern the territory of defeat, death
and self At the end of the

novel, he is ready to come out again, hav-
ing learned to live with human short
s. His experience would be more
impressive if it were not quite so nakedly
symbolic. The temptations that beset
Adam derive from a philosophical con-
cept rather than from human exper
Abstractions like Freedom, Worthine:
Truth are always on his mind, and he
lly to ponder his values
vmbols, W:
y tale has considerable dra-
matic power. Few modern writers know
so much about the
ethical life, and few have his sense of
history. And perhaps relating man to
his history, letting him live it, is, after
all, the best way to restore to the poor
slewfoot his tragic dignity.

Jack Paar's second book, My Saber Is Bent
(Simon & Schuster, 53.95), is moderately
sharp-edged — the work of a
blade. Mostly it’s made up of high- and
notso-highlights from his shows. (For
scholars of the future, the Ed Sul
feud and the Berlin fracas get
.) One chapter about fa
Virginia, those fairies) conta
cindid comment about their limp-wrist
hold on the entertainment world, but
Paar seems upset that John Gielgud's
career wasn't ruined by his police trou-
Ме. И you're a Paar buf, this is your
buffet. Otherwise —we kid you not—

bother not.

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

Recently 1 asked а young lady of my
acquaintance if she would care to spend
a weekend with me in Las Vegas. She
seemed delighted at the idea and replied
that she would be more than happy to be
my guest, Then, after I had bought a
air of plane tickets and was about to
graph for a room reservation, she ad-
ed me that, of course, it was going to

е quarters. Г now regret hav-
isked her — but I don’t know how to
k out gracefully. What would be a
suitable course of action in a situation
such as this?—B. B. New York, New
York.

Honor your word and go. A weekend
invitation of this sort does not necessar-
ily imply a blanket invitation as well,
and if the young lady wants to sleep solo
she has every right to do so. The fact
that you are paying the freight in no way
entitles you to a rounder-trip иске!. Our
hunch is that her acceplance of the
invitation and her insistence on the
proprictics of separaic accommodations
imply а desire 10 maintain appearances
coupled with a tacit willingness to be
persuaded once you're on the scene. If
your gambling instincts don’t go beyond
the gaming tables, however, we suggest
you research your prospective traveling
companions a bit more thoroughly in the
Juture, and thus avoid any chance of dis-
appointments.

А: a recent devotee of big-league auto
racing, ГА like to know how the drivers"
world championship is decided, No
one has been able to give me a concise
answer. — B. C., Madison, Wisconsin.
The world championship of driving is
determined by a tabulation of the six
best performances of drivers competing
in Ше international Grand Prix aces.
(Each year there are approximately 10 —
the Grands Prix of Argentina, Belgium,
England, France, Germany, Holland, H-
aly, Monaco, Portugal and the United
States customarily make up the list.) In
the system adopied by the Fédération In-
ternationale de l'Automobile, drivers te-
ceive eight points for a first-place finish,
six Jor second, Jour for third, three for
fourth, two for fifth and one for sixth;
the driver amassing the most points for
his six best performances wins the cham-
pionship. The practice of awarding an
additional point for fastest lap was dis-
1960, due to the
pendable liming facilities found at some
circuits. Il should be remembered that
luck and the comparative capabilities of
the cars play а large part in determining
the ultimate winner. Stirling Moss of
England is unquestionably today's fastest
driver, yet through the 1961 season he

continued in unde-

had newer won the world championship
(currently held by Phil Hill of California,
the [азі American to win il).

П have been dating a girl who absolutely
refuses to touch a drop of liquor. She's
a good kid, but has never really learned
how to relax and enjoy herself. Now, 1
have a hunch that beneath her pretty
but prim exterior there lies а гезстуой
of warmth and affection — my problem
is how to tap it. The other day І had
а brainstorm. Why not пу loosening her
up by feeding her a meal wherein all
the courses are prepared with alcoholic
ingredients? 1 would appreciate it if
you'd supply me wiih а menu that meets
this somewhat offbeat requirement, Гат
a fairly accomplished cook. — A. U., Вох
ton, Massachusetts.
Don your bonnet de chef, and rustle

up the following haut fare:

Brandied cheddar spread

Cheese soup with ale

Frogs legs Provencale (white wine)

Veal scaloppine Marsala

Fruit-stuffed. avocado, rum dressing

Crepes with ситасао

Cafe Brulot (cognac)
All of the above dishes may be found in
“The Playboy Gourmet.” We might add,
A. U., that while your scheme is imag-
inalive, the chances of your girl becom-
ing even slighily high from this fine re-
past are slight. Whenever liquor or wine
is cooked—that is, heated until и
boils — Ше alcohol vaporizes, and the
alcoholic content of the uncooked
items listed here is so minute as to
have по inebriating effect whatever.
We suggest you rely on other, subtler
factors to thaw your girl's proper façade:
the appeal that the tastefully prepared
viands and potables will have to her
latent sensuality, and the obvious fact
that you have gone out of your way to
give her a pleasurable evening.

СР. uo урыс
have to do with trouser culls. When do
1 cuff, when not? I believe (but am not
certain) that cuffs on Continental trou-
sers are optional; is this the case? МИ
about slacks worn with the incr
British-looking sports jackets?
about suits which are predominantly
lvy— as most of mine are? And aic culls
worn American Continental
style? - С. С., Baltimore, Maryland.
Herewith some on-the-cu[] advice on a
subject that is still strongly tied to per-
sonal lastes. The Continental silhouette,
which introduced the си ез trouser, al-
most always (except in France) calls for
cufflessness. Slacks of covert, cavalry
twill, bedford cord, etc., which are being

with the

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PLAYBOY

24

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wom with the British-style sports coats
ате cufftess in this country. In. Britain,
however, they are still being worn with
cuffs. The dyed-in-the-wool traditional
Toy weaver still demands cuffs оп his
trousers. Вий here again there is evidence
of a trend loward the slim elegance of
the cuffless trouser. The American Соп-
tinental style is usually worn without
cuffs. In short, the option still exists; but
genilemen in the avant-garde of fashion
favor trousers sans cuffs.

For ihe first time in my 25 years, I
find myself in the flattering position of
having a girl really 1 а terrific
play for me. She announces it at parties
and when we're double dating. It's “I'm
going to marry this gorgeous hunk of
^, and if he won't ГП
be his mistress or his sl; or words to
that effect. Yet, when we're alone together
and having a great time, things get sticky
just when the real action should begin.
She gets moody and depressed, pushes
y and says she can't stand the
idea of my even looking at other girls
She cries, and when I try to comfort her
she threatens to commit suicide unless I
marry her, Then she says the best thing
would be to never see me in and runs
home to her mother's house, where she
lives. The next morning she calls me at
work and apologizes abjectly — and we're
off again. Last time this happened, I
took ап hour off from my job and drove
her round and round the park in my
car in broad daylight so we could have
am unemotional, serious talk. She had me
practically persuaded that her neurotic
jealousy and rages (which 1 might as
well admit accounted for scratches on my
е more than once) would vanish if I
married her. It sounded very convincing
at the time and I believe she really does
love me and that my feclings for her arc
more than just the result of being flat-
tered by her attentions. Next diy, І dis-
cussed it with a long-time, happily
married, older friend. He said that mar
riage is а tough proposition at best and
that this sounded like the makings of the
worst marital mess foreseeable. He is-
sured me this girl would not commit
suicide if I broke off with her and urged
me to do it just as quickly and painlessly
as 1 could, Is he right? — J. К. $, Wash-
ington, D.C.
Yes
АШ reasonable questions — from fash-
ion, food and drink, hi-fi and sports cars
to dating dilemmas, laste and etiquette
—will be personally answered if the
writer includes a stamped, selj-addressed
envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy
Advisor, Playboy Building, 232 E. Ohio
Street, Chicago 11, Illinois. The most
provocative, pertinent. queries will be
presented on these pages each month.

ге S.

with the sharpest look in slacks...

with horizontal front pockets
peo

26

My Brother
Ernest Hemingway

In Parts I and П of his biography, “Му Brother, Ernest Heming-
way,” Leicester Hemingway explored, from the intimate, uniquely

J revealing point of view possible to an only brother, the many-faceted
emergence of the celebrated writer as man and artist. He wrote of
crnest’s strict Middle Western upbringing, his wounding at the
Italian front in World War 1, the drumming out of his family by his
parents which preceded his first marriage, his subsequent expatri-

ale years — beginning as a newspaper correspondent and evolving
into а master creative writer, first of short stories and then of a major

novel, “The Sun Also Rises.” Leicester also told of his brother's

tempestuous personal Ше, a divorce and second marriage (to Pauline
persona lograp у Pfeiffer) followed by his return to America and Key West— the setting

of “To Have and Have Not.” There, Hemingway became a dedicated

deep-sea fisherman and, in a brief getaway period, found a taste for
0 WHILE 45 eas шш и ш te сме a БИН,

Т father but adorned by the publication of “A Farewell to Arms
man ап al IS as Part Ш opens, we find the cver-restless writer drawn back to an
By Leicester Hemingway part Ill

productive surge, initially marred by the prophetic suicide of his
Now,

old loue —as a foreign correspondent, in the Spanish Civil War.

From the time that Ernest's contract to cover the Spanish Civil
War for the North American Newspaper Alliance was signed in
January 1937 until March, when he arrived in France rea
the border, Ernest was busy calling and writing Washington and

dy to cross

nce and

New York, rounding up friends and arranging lor assi
ра

The first project E
mentary film that would show both what life was like in a typical
Spanish village before the w nd then the extent to which the
war disrupted and changed it,

By March 18, Ernest had flown into Republican Spain. He 1
at Barcelona just
the st to Alicante, with its African scenery, and finally 10
Valencia, where fresh m

mission for various projects.

nest had in mind was the making of a docu-

nded
Iter a bombing raid; then he continued down

ast coa

at was still obtainable outside the city and

the inhabitants were enthusiastic about the war.

The follow
the Guadalaj
the Italians, their first victory in

ng week Ernest personally went over the terrain on

1 [ront where the Government troops had won over

ight months of fighting against

the invaders. In cold rain and snow flurries, he kept moving while
under shell fire. He was deeply disturbed by the sight of the dead
Italians who had believed they were being sent to Africa lor
rison duty and had instead run into accurate small-arms fire and
the antitank guns that took on their so-called invincible mechanized
columns.

А week later, Ernest wrote an anal
where the Guadalajara Italian retreat had begun. He was convinced

ysis ОЁ the Brihuega battle,

that it was the biggest Italian defeat since Caporetio in World
War 1, and described the scene, the weapons used, the scattered
and abandoned equipment and papers of the defeated and the

dead. Medium tanks had beaten light tan! ment morale
was high.

“One moi

g I got a letter from some people in Hollywood
asking me to do everything possible for Errol Flynn who was coming
over to see the war firsthand,” Ernest told me later. “1 figured he
could be valuable in raising money back in America. So when he
got to Madrid in Iternoon, I started organizi
for the following d
gasoline, Had to ask favors to or;

nd tour

anize it, and J hated asking favors.

avors have to be repaid, and when you're indebted to some people

Top to bottom: Hemingway talks to New York reporters
following 1937 scuffle with author-critic Мах Eastmen.
Ernest and third wife Martha Gellhorn уви Madame
Chiong Kai-shek in 1941. Hemingway, Gary Cooper
end guide relox after Sun Valley bird shoot, 1942.

you can't report truly. Anyway, got it organized. Then Flynn wants
to make the rounds of the bars. Turned out ОК. We got back to
the hotel by midnight. Had to get Iots of rest before heading lor the
front. Hell. Next morning I was up at six and calling his room.
No answer. Went downstairs and they told me Senor Flynn had

checked out, get that, checked out. l he was leaving Madrid.

Clerk said he looked fine but scemed in a huny. The hotel had
been shelled but it had been a pretty quiet night.

"I called around and apologized for the change of plans. and
waited for word. I came the evening of April 5. Flynn was reported
resting comfortably after getting hit in the head by falling plaster
in the siege of Madrid.”

Ernest hurried into the preparations for making the documentary
film. Joris Ivens, who was directing and photographing, had reached
Spain, and so had John Ferno, a cameraman engaged for the projec
Much of the daily film coverage was being made outside Madrid in
the village of Morales. Other scenes were also necessary. In order
to film actual combat, Ernest took the photographers and their most

portable equipment to locations where the
of tanks i оп under good lighting conditions. Hank Сопсй ої
United Press went along. On April 9 they saw the second Repub-
lican attack in four days designed to relieve the pres
University City. Belore the day was over, they had ай been sniped
at repeatedly. Once they found a marvelous observation point with
a view of the battle spread out below. But bullets kept taking chips
out of the woodwork next to them and they hastily moved befor
the snipers’ corrections Гог windage eliminated their group. By the
time the light faded they had taken some excellent lootage, setting
the camera up on а bombed-open third floor of a house where they
с seen.

could shoot pictures

could observe without b

A few days later they went alo: tack
that further helped free the city of Madrid. Ernest sent back stories
Пу describing the crackling of small-arms fire, the smell of
nd ammunition, and the m

on ап infantry and tank

graphica
smoke

sterious blossoming of flames

as objectives just beyond view through the brush were shelled by
the attacking troops.

On April 22, Ernest and several hundred thousand other people
had been under bombardment in Madrid for 11 consecutive da
He described the different kinds of explosions, ranging from rifle
fire to trench mortars and high explosive artillery, and what each of
the missiles did оп impact to the buildings and the people.

“When Sidney Franklin finally did manage to turn up in Madrid
where we were, everything got much са he told me lat
D: nd haggler ever to

ys.

Sidney was the greatest scrounger, organize

help hungry people in Republican Spain. He could talk a s

ager
out of a hatful of eggs like most people can get а light for a ciga-
rette. He was wonderful.”

Ernest himself had a talent for providing fresh meat. Borrowing

a shotgun Вот a Геп, Ernest u

d the correspondents’ car to
drive out to the Pardo front on the other side of the city Irom the
Hotel Florida where he was staying. There in a few hours he bowled
over four rabbits and shot a duck, a partridge, and a lone owl that
he mistook for a woodcock as it flew through the trees. “I decided
that was meat enough, alter what I mistook for а covey of partridges
tak
over the next ridge,” he told me.

Early in May of that year he filed his final dispatch from Madrid
and prepared to return to France and then the United $га

1g off turned out to be a trench mortar shell that landed just

es. He

had filed nearly a dozen stories, some by mail through the Govern-

ent censorship. He had also written some magazine pieces; had
deal of the film shot that would be edited into The
arth; and was gathering notes in order personally to do
tion for thc film's sound track

When Ernest reached New York
the most of his time there. He was already laying plans to return
to Spain in the fall. He knew how many details would have to be
arranged in advance И the trip were to be successful. He wanted to
help with the cutting of the film and see that certain sequences
were not eliminated. He had to do his own work with the sound
track and had to arrange for distribution and showings. The object
was to get the maximum expo: for the picture in order to raise
funds for ambulances, medical aid, and other assistance for the
Spanish Republic and for those who were fighting for its continued
existence.

seen a gr
Spanish
the narr

п he was determined to make

He did everything he could on the film, and also wrote some
Iditior erial for the news s
"hen he h

yndicate to be used as dispatches.
aded for Key West to sce Pauline and the children,
whom he had been missing fiercely during recent months.

Ernest wrote me just before heading for Bimini late in May. He
id Spain had been very instructive and that he had seen the
remains ol Guadalajara and all of another battle, havin one with
the infanuy on attacks and filmed one counterattack. In. Madrid
he had come through 19 days of really heavy bombardment and the
news syndicate had been paving him so much by the dispatch that
he figured he'd have to get himself killed by about the fourth dis-
patch in order for them to get their money's worth.

At that time I had almost completed my second year on the

Chicago Daily News as a reporter and editor on the weekly regional

sections. Soon alter I started working Гог the News, 1

Welsh, then assistant society editor. Because the regional sections

next to cach other in thc city

nt opportunities to talk, M.

and the society department wer

oom,
y was a cheerful, petite
blonde from Minnesota who kept her stockings nicely pulled up and
liked to sit on a desk swinging her legs

Mary had read everything of Ernest's
obviously fascinated by him. “Tell me, Us he really like
would ask. Г had a small sailboat then and we went
Alter that she jok.
was utterly
fis

we had пер

nd was

she
tiling in it.
ngly referred to it as “our boat." Our rek
nnocent and based almost entirely on her tremendous
h Ernest. Later she went East and worked lor the Luce
publications. Years alterward in Europe she finally met her hero.

‘That summer ol 1937 was a time of decision lor Ernest. He was
talking animatedly with friends and acquaintances, doing his best to
organize help and

nship

ation wi

ise money Гог the Spanish Republic. Through
his big-game fishing he had met many of the wealthy inheritors of

American lort

nes, He concentrated on these people, knowi
il they could develop soci

в that
consciences they could aid the Spanish
id effectively, through the funds they controlled.
But he ran into disappointments. What seemed so clear-cut to
him was murky and full of hidden pitfalls to others. When a
10 give medical

cause quickly

sked
d and contribute to alleviate the suffering оп both
les of the war, some о his friends would have nothing to do with
the idea, Some were afraid that if they gave aid it would assist only
the Communists who were known to be siding with the Spanish Gov-
«птеп against the Germans, Italians and rebel Spanish generals.

But others of his friends we vorable toward the Govern-
ment side as was Ernest. William B. Leeds, who owned the huge
oceangoing yacht Moana and was heir to a tin-plate fortune, thought

si

Top to bottom: Ernest and Mertha soil off Hevena,
1940. Pope chots with critic George Jean Nathan and
Morlene Dietrich during wartime meeting. Again o
professional observer of valor ond death, Hemingwoy
works as а маг correspondent for Colliers, 1944,

29

зо

My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (continued)

very well of the idea. In Havana that
summer, Bill Leeds invited Ernest aboard
and they discussed what should be done.

He subscribed enough money to buy
а full dozen ambulances, complete with
surgical and emergency equipment, to
id the suffering among the wounded
on both sides. The ambulances never
reached Spain. They were blocked, dur-
ing shipment, by the American Neutral-
ity Act that forbade the shipment of
equipment of any kind to Spain.

That summer Ernest also made а se
ond contract with the North American
Newspaper Alliance. It was to confirm
а verbal agreement he had made with
John Wheeler after his return to New
York in May. The financial terms re-
mained the same, but in the second
contract more specific agreement was
reached on the frequency of filing di:
patches. Ernest could file several in а
short period if in his opinion the news
developments warranted them. But he
was not to be paid more than $1000
in any one week, no matter how many
dispatches he sent.

The premiere of The Spanish Earth
was held at the White House. Joris
Ivens went down from New York with
Ernest to have dinner with President
Roosevelt before the showing. It went
off well and both were house guests that
night.

Something else happened that sum-
mer that was to have far-reaching effects
on Ernest's career and personal life.
While he was in Key West, Martha
Gellhorn, a young writer who had pub-
lished one book and was starting to do
well in the magazine field, came down
to interview Ernest for a magazine аг-
ticle. Martha was a tall blonde from
St. Louis with extremely good legs, a
fine sense of humor, and the ability to
write exceedingly well. She located
Sloppy Joc's bar, saw Ernest's name
on one of thc bar stools, and asked if
he really came in there as had been
rumored.

"He sure do when he's in town,"
said Skinner, the large, shrewd Negro
who tended bar when Joe Russell, the
owner, was absent. "It's almost three
o'clock now. If he's here, he'll be comin"
in."

In a matter of minutes, Ernest ar-
rived, took a look around, and was
pleased with the scene. Не and Martha
were introduced and were talking like
old friends even before the first drink.
Ernest liked the idea of the article and
was expansive, considerate and winning
in alternate moods.

Martha, in turn, found herself іп-
stantly fascinated by Ernest. He talked

as well as he wrote and was wonderfully
amusing when he wanted to be. At the
same time he was absolutely dedicated
to the belief that talent in the fine
arts was not enough. It must be used
to make the world a better place in
which to live, and that included fight-
ing for human freedom wherever it was
threatened. He had great plans for his
next trip to Spain and urged that
Martha go over and sec for herself what
was happening, if she could possibly
do so. Martha, in her first book, had.
graphically shown some instances of
man's nity and already shared
with Ernest his belief that a writer
should do what he could for human
rights and dignit

In New York, in the middle of Au
ring for the trip to Sp:
Ernest went to Max Perkins’ office at
Scribner's and encountered the writer
Max Eastman. Eastman had written
critically about Ernest's writing аці-
tudes, indicating that there was an air
of “false hair on the chest.” His criti-
cism was considered fair comment as
criticism goes in the world of letters.
This was the first time the two men
found themselves together in the same
room. Amenities soon changed to ob-
scenities and, while Max Perkins him-
self withdrew, there a brief physical
exchange of energy and each of the men
was then led off to issue his own state-
ment to the press. Eastman claimed he
had wrestled while Ernest had boxed,
and that he had personally come out
ahead, Emest claimed he had “disci
plined” Eastman and had a book with
a bloody smudge inside as evidence of
an impact area. The Perkins office was
a shambles, and the event gave the
literary world some juicy gossip that
reverberated in the columns and at
cocktail parties for some months.

During the summer, while in Bimin
Ernest had made changes and read the
final proofs of To Have and Have Not,
due for publication in the fall. He had
used as characters some types that
seemed remarkably like recent friends
who Бс had decided had a definite, if
peculiar, value to society, especially in a
novel.

His new book, the first which he
showed a change from the enjoyment
of experience to a justification of his
own life, was, he told me, in many ways
the most important he had ever written.
Before и, he hadn't cared how life went
as long as he could create productively.
From this point on, he cared profoundly
about other people's lives.

That summer he had addressed the
League of American Writers at Car-

while prepa

negie Hall, He made what he described
as "the only political address I ever
intend to make,” and told what he had
seen in Spain, how it had affected him,
and what he intended to do about Fas-
cism everywhere.

The speech was serious and it put
him on record. Ernest was always at
best once he had made a difficult deci
sion. From then on, he was committed
to implementing his beliefs. At the end
of summer, when he was again back in
New York, ready for Spain and a more
lengthy stay, he had privately raised
some $40,000 in advances from his pub-
lisher and from other sources, which he
donated for medical aid to the Govern-
ment of Spain.

sts first dispatch оп his secon
was filed from the Aragon front,
where he had a chance to talk with
the tough trained Americans who had
survived the first year of the conflict.
He noted that the wounded, the cow-
ards, and the romantics had all been
cleared away, leaving the good, dedi-
cated fighters. In the time that Ernest
had been back, these men had captured
Cuenca and Belchite, using Indian
fighting tactics that were again prov
their value to infantry in the беа, He
went over the ground at Belchite with
Robert Merriman, a former University
of California professor who was a staff
officer in the 15th Brigade and who had
the assault on an ancient fortific
tion there. The stink of death was so
strong there afterward that the burial
squad members wore gas masks while
doing their work.

Ernest’s experiences of the war and
what he knew of it could best be pre-
sented as a play, he decided. The fact
that he had never written a play before
did not bother him. He was a mast
of dialog. He had been a dra
his life, secking turning points

and

crises as other men seck security and
social status. He set to work drafting

а series of acts, while continuing to ad-
vise and assist in filming additional
footage outside Madrid.

His romantic life took a sudden up-
surge when Martha Gellhorn arrived in
the capital with full status as a corre
spondent. Martha and Ernest gravitated
toward each other naturally. They were
both romantics, determined to make
their contributions in a fight against
tyranny. Each held the other in high
esteem. "They both stayed at the Hotel
Florida where virtually all correspond-
ents stayed. By combining forces with
Martha on the food, entertainment and
companionship fronts, Ernest made his

room one of the few places (though he
changed its юсайоп from time to time)
where friends and strangers could gct a
drink, sometimes a snack, and cven a
meal. They could hear good music played
on the portable, hand-wound record
player. while listening to typewriter keys
dicking out the phrases and sentences
that would be read later throughout the
world. Ernest worked on his own mate-
rial, worked over Martha's; she in turn.
copied out his material, and they com-
bined their thinking and sometimes
their phrases in magazine pieces under
one by-linc or the other

In late September, Ernest, Herbert
Matthews [of The New York Times]
nd Martha Gellhorn made ап adven:
turous trip through the northern moun-
tains to study this "lost" front, They
were the first American correspondents
permitted to make a survey of condi
tions there. In preparation, they bought
blankets and sleeping bags, and carried
what food they could. Using a truck as
a base, they visited the higher positions
in the mountains on horseback.

"Ernest and Martha were wonderful
traveling companions,” Herbert Mat
thews told me later. “She and T used
to call him ‘Scrooby.’ By nightfall we
had always found something to drink.
But even while we w Ernest
enjoyed the soft luxury of pajamas
whenever he could."

That fall Ernest wrote some wonder-
ful scenes Гог the play, The Fifth
Column, amd captured several hearts
among the inhabitants of Madrid. The
most perceptive, outgoing and етар.
tured was that of Martha Gellhorn.
They came to mean as much to each
other as people could who werc living
daily with death in a heroic atmosphere
and doing creative work.

Pauline sensed from Ernests letters
that the old relationship no longer ex
isted. She determined to fight for what
she had, and hoped to hold. Early in
December she planned to go to Paris
for Christmas, and there have Ernest
join her. The trip was a rough one,
with December storms. But Pauline ar
rived with plenty of will power and a
determination to preserve their marri:
After some days of visiting and sight
seeing, Ernest and Pauline returned to
New York, then to Key West.

Ernest had a great amount of work
sull to be completed and he had, in a
sense, left а part of himself in Spai
He knew he had to go back. But he was
unwilling to discuss it with anyone. He
felt so strongly about it that he avoided
all talk of future plans.

The winter weather would limit both
sides to patrols and raids during Ше
coming months, he realized. But he had

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My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (continua)

vast and only partly matured projects
under way in Spain. He was beginning
to keep his own counsel at last, like a
good general unable to trust, or unsure
value of, his advisors, He was
да new platcau.

in Spain in the fall
of 1937, he had shown some sharp pangs
of remorse, even recalling the look of
his garden in Key West in a dispatch
that described the devastation of shell-
ing and the strange fecling that had
come over him as he looked at a field
of swaying blue flowers which had
sprung up soon after high explosives
and incendiarics had cleared the sur-
face of all li

а and vicariously through
able friendships. When he went to visi
the home of his friend Luis Qu
nilla, the gr h painter, he wa
appalled. Several members of Luis’
family had survived. But the family
house was a shell All the fine
ings that had taken years to produce
were destroyed. Shreds of them hung
on the partial walls of several rooms.
In one comer he saw several large
dings. He went over eagerly,
that at least some of the books
were still intact. He touched one. And
then another. They fell apart. А smol-
dering fire had reduced them to ashes

When a wave of arrests swept
cia, Етем found that his good friend,
Profesor Robles, had been picked up,
tried in haste, and executed. John Dos
arrived soon afterward and
searched for the man, fearing some harm
might have come to him because of his
views. It took days—and they were
agonizing days— before Ernest could be
psolutely certain of his infor
Then he had to confront Dos with the
news. The event and the delay in get-
ting facts, and the enormity of Ше exe-
ition of a good and innocent man,
formed another of the gut-wrenching
wounds that worked on Ernest. It dis-
turbed him far more than the deaths of
thousands of men he did not know оп
both sides of the conflict.
nest could smile at fat señoras
ng into a run for cover from the
strafing planes. But his eyes showed the
horror when he saw children lying dead.
Ira Wolfert told me how Ernest choked
up and said, "God, those small, white
faces — like stepped-on flowers, They're
so innocent and pure, and forever
thrown away.

When telling me about it the follow-
ing spring. Ernest аро spoke of the
funnier aspects of the war. He told me
about meeting Hungarian General Lı

tion.

breal

kacz of the 12th International Bi
for the first time. “He held a big Ба
quet for me, Baron,” Ernest laughed,
but I damned near choked trying to
keep a straight face. The real honored
gucsts were the prettiest girls in the vil-
ве. Неа invited them, too. That was
the closest I ever came to being а solic-

And one night he went to see a
Marlene Dietrich movie in Madrid.
Just at the moment when Marlene w:
to be shot as a Mata Hari, a shell
Janded right outside. The whole build-
ing shook, but Ernest said the patrons
kept thi ats and roared with laugh-
ter at the perfect timing.

In the early spring of 1938, Ernest
worked intensely back in Key West
revising The Fifth Column and, think-
ing beyond it, he began to feel that
there must be a great novel buried in
the treachery, courage and sacrifice that.
he had seen during recent months in
Spa

In March 1 visited Key West. nest
seemed curiously relieved to have the
chance to talk again, We had written
and phoned each other, but we had
also been out of contact occasionally
because of distance.

The fall before, our sister Sunny and
I had jointly taken the responsibi
of digging out family pictures and rec-
ords for a research team Time magazine
had sent out to Oak Park. They were
preparing a cover story on Ernest and
his latest book. Because we did not
confer with Ernest, І knew we were
wide open to his severe discipline. А
truthful explanation of the way the
Time team had gone about its work, of
the urgency, and of our mutual decision
finally to cooperate with Tim
the best action possible. Luc
was realistic and forgiving.

"Christ, Baron, you did the best vou.
could. They had you, in the old jour-
nalistic way, with that "We'll get it from.
the neighbors if you don't give. Hell.
I'm not sore. One of the pictures they
used wasn't me, though. They probably
xtirely different stalf doing pic-

ptions.

In the next few days we talked a lot,
went fishing once, went swimming often.
and hoisted a number of tall glasses.
mest was then drinking 15 to 17
Scotch and sodas over the course of а
day. He was holding them remarkably
well.

‘That was the way it went, but it
abruptly ended one morning with a
long-distance phone call, Ernest took it
in the front hall, then shouted for a
pencil and paper. 1 rushed them го him

E

seemed

y Ernest

started a drive, you say?
be the drive to the sea. It
would cut oll all the rest of the country
if they seal the border. Sure I'll go
ain. "There's a plane out of here this
є you when I get

very quiet. Then she

and warm
clothes, too. Poor Old Mama." Ernest's
look of angry eagerness changed to one
of hurt. "Oh damn! Things were going
so well, 1 should have known it would
bust wide open.” Then the hurt look
gone and he brushed past Pauline,
still talking to her. “ICI be mountain
fighting and ГП need cold clothes for
that, but the summers coming on, I

w

don't want to get my damned throat
in

n uproar, not with the price of
otch at that many pesetas per gargle.
The spring thaw has got everybody
ready to end Ше war in a month .. .
Come out here, Baron, I want to talk
with you

We went out back and had a quick
one out of the bottle without dirtying
any glasses. "Listen," he said, “1 can get
you a captaincy in the Lincoln Brigade
if you want to come. It might straighten
a lot of things out for you and at least
you'll learn a hell of a lot. T war's
got to wind up. because the big one is
coming fast. How about it?”

І explained that 1 couldn't go be-
с of finances; I had a wife and
young son to think about. I don't mind
admitting that Е was strongly tempted.

Ernest's third European trip du
the Spanish War was а crucial оп
was in a hurry to reach the territory
he'd left only three months earlier. He
knew how much might have happened in
that time.

He crossed the Atlantic by boat and
flew into Republican Spain by the now-
familiar route, stopping at Barcelona.
There he filed his first dispatch of the
new series, April 3, 1938, after the break-
through ас Gande: He described. the
refugees going through оп the roads
under airplane. strafing,
almond blossoms covered the si
nearby, then he concentrated on
experiences of Ameri
Lincolu-Washington Battalion, which
had been surrounded on a hilltop out-
side Gandesa. The Americans in thei
flight had moved with extreme caution.
Their objectives were to swim the Ebro
ance to fight
ade thi way

the
n members of the

literally stepped on the hands of Fascist

35

My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (continued)

troops resting in the pitch blackness.

At Tortosa on April 15, Ernest wit-
nessed the Fascist bombing of the Bar-
celona-Valencia road by scores of planes.
The city disappeared in a haze of yel-
low dust. When they could see it again,
hc and his friends managed to get
through on an emergency bridge. He
reported feeling like a mountaineer ex-
ploring craters on the moon.

Down at the Ebro delta, the new
spring crop of frogs filled the ditches.
There Ernest picked and munched on
wild onions while he watched prepara-
tions for the coming battle as the Fas-
cist forces pressed their way to the sea.

In Madrid on May 10, Ernest filed
his final news dispatch of the war. He
was very pleased to sce his old friends
in the capital, and to note the excellent
defensive positions that had been de-
veloped during the months of stalemate
on this front. The morale of Loyalist
troops, officers, sappers and civilians
still excellent. They seemed honestly
more content to be fighting their own
separate war than to be lumped with
the defenders of other regional cities.
The food situation was critical, and
had been for some time. But there was
plenty of ammunition to withstand a
further siege. Though diplomats at that
time were certain the war would end
in a month or so, Ernest felt that it
might well go on for another year. His-
tory proved that his estimate was ac
curate.

Before flying out of Spain again, Er-
nest frst went through all his things
and destroyed many of his papers, per-
sonal and profession

“Га gathered so much information,
some of it very hard to get, that Га
have been a prize cuch if our plane
had been forced down on the rebel
side," he told me later. "It hurt like
the devil to destroy my own notes."

Once out. of the country, Ernest and
Martha, who had again met in Spain,
headed for Paris and а few days of fun
before sailing to New York to face the
ities of civilian existence once aga
The trip home had the kind of dri
ing anyone would have wanted after
secing and learning about that partie
ular war. But as the Normandie neared
New York, Ernest became more pre-
occupied, then gloomy. By the time the
ship docked, Ernest was keeping to
himself, truculent, and his statements to
reporters were subdued. He made no
predictions and excused himself as
quickly as possible.

Ernest headed directly for Key West,
tired. from the tei
the activity. He knew he had some good

wa

stories and that the sooner he wrote
them the better he would feel. But this
reasoning didn’t work out. Ernest was
moody and tom by conflicting feelings.
Pauline was so glad to have him back
safely that for a time it seemed they
would be able to work everything out

thoroughly involved with
geting The Fifth Column produced.
He ran into one difficulty after another,
Instead of casing out to the Bahamas
or cutting over to Hay: where he
often found it possible to relax and
increase production, he stayed in Key
West through June and July so as to
be able to communicate easily with
people in New York. At the end of
July he drove with Pauline, Patrick and
Gregory out to Cooke, Montana, where
he could find friendly ranch Ше and a
complete change of scene. But a month
there was enough to clarily his [cel
Ву the end of August he
back to Europe again on the Normandie.

When he returned to Spain, still with
credentials and able to fulfill magazine
commitments, the was definitely
going against the Republican side.
nest missed the most exciting part of the
battle of the Ebro in the humid August
heat, but he was there when it came to
an end. The Ebro front was the last
hope of the Republican cause. It tem-
porarily worried. the Fascists, but when
it began to cave in it took the Repub-
hopes with it. By October, Negrin,
Premicr о the Spanish Republic, was
convinced that all available troops
could not stem the flow of Fascist in
vaders.

In mid-November, Ernest and Her-
bert Matthews were with Vincent
Sheean on the west bank of the Ebro,
just before that front collapsed. А few
days later they were among the last to
recross the river as the Fascist advance
continued. Ernest saw the war drawing
to an end, and left Spain without filing
further news dispatches. The news syr
dicate felt there was little interest being
shown by readers in America.

Y-

rnest was carrying a heavy load of
Е: sery when he returned to Key
West. He was having difficulty with his
own personal code of ethics. He had
finally decided that he needed to make
a clean break with Pauline. The move
would not be an easy one. As Ernest once
said, “Once you've really loved some-
one, you never stop . . . completely.”

His problems were not eased when our
mother came down to Key West for
a visit She was on а зШаррописа

good-will mission. Ernest knew it and
would have nothing to do with it. Не
got her a suite at the Casa Marina Hotel,
had her come over to the house fre-
quently, and kept his own counscl. He
knew the spot any son is in when
plaining to a parent that his previous
wisdom has been open to criticism. And
he had taken enough censure during
the time of his first divorce to avoid
all future encounters.

After Mother left. nest took the
Pilar to Havana and began writing For
Whom the Bell Tolls. Martha came
down to Havana on occasion, and Er-
nest continued to work well on the
book. During her first visit, the two
located а fine, high piece of land six
miles east of the city, just back of Coj
mar where there had once been an an-
cient watchtower, or vigia. A sprawling,
one-story house was in onc corner. The
place had and a mar-
velous view. They bought the 19 acres,
kept the old name of Finca La Vigia,
nd proceeded to refurbish the entire
grounds.

Martha was enchanting. She had real
brains, beauty, and the body of a Circe.
I was delighted that she was about to
become my favorite third sister-in-law,
though I gave full honors to the first
two.

The summer of 1939 Ernest's pre-
dictions on the coming big war came
truc. He read all the dispatches as
they were released. And he kept work
g in the face of continuous distrac-
tions, ranging from guests to political
problems. That winter Martha went
to Finland to do some magazine pieces

п air about i

Later, when I had come back from a
special Caribbean assignment, Ernest and

king and fishing and
hangovering just for the wonderful r
lease that came of his winding up proj-
ects. For he was at last finishing For
Whom the Bell Tolls. He told me he had
worked on it steadily for 15 months. "It's
a ballwracker, Baron. An honest-to-Christ
ballwracker."

Early in November 1940, Ernest's di-
vorce from Pauline became final. Paul-
ine was as gracious and considerate as
any human being could be. She wrote
а wonderful letter to Mother saying
that she was certain the news had been
a blow to her, as it had been to Paul-
ines own parents, and that she was
sorry. But she said Mother would always
be a mother to her. She was convinced
that under the circumstances it had
been the best thing to do for all con-
сетей, and that she was glad it was
over. The heart of another, she said.

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38

My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (continued)

was a dark forest, and she then observed
that people could only do what they
could and "really considering what they
have to contend with in this world, it.
is amazing that they do as well as they
do." She urged Mother to come down
again to sce her and her sons, Patrick
and Cregory, and to visit me and my
wife and sons, fake and Peter, who
were alo in Key West. She reported
everyone strong and healthy and said
I was writing well. The letter expressed
the kind of feeling which Ernest had
long searched for in others.

Two weeks after the divorce Ernest
and Martha were married by a justice
of the peace in Cheyenne, Wyoming.

While vacationing at Sun Valley that
fall, Ernest and Martha had completed
the sale of film rights for For Whom the
Bell Tolls. It went to Para at Гог
$150,000, then a record sum.

Ernest wanted Ingrid Bergman to
play Maria and Gary Cooper to play
Robert Jordan in the film. Ingrid at
that time was under contract to David
Selznick, and when Ernest heard this
he was delighted. He knew Coop would.
do everything possible to arrange his
own freedom for the role. They were
friends who had shot many birds to-
gether, and for years Ernest had been
an admirer of Cooper's acting style.

In the spring of 1941, Ernest and

moi

Martha flew to San Francisco and from
Wake,

there to Honolulu, Midway,
Guam, Manila, Hong Kong and S
pore. They also went inland to see
what had happened to China since the
fighting had forced the relocation of the
government's headquarters. As guests of

Generalissimo and Madame Chiang Kai-
shek, they moyed about within the per-
and

missible arcas, floated down Ше
Yangtze R ir of Connecti-
cut Yankees in ndarin's Court.
Ernest enjoyed the situation enormously.

Covering the British defenses in the.
Far East, as well as the American prepa-
rations lor a defensive war, Ernest filed
a series of dispatches to PM. He talked
with British military officers, coolies,
the members of exclusive clubs,
foreign adventurers, trying to bring
focus their assessments of things to
come. In this, he was both lucky and
astute, He predicted the war would
come from Japan, against British and
American bases throughout the Ра
and southeast Asia

By July, Ernest and Martha were back
in Havana. After the United States en-
tered the war, Ernest and [ continued
for more than a year writing through
the censorship between this country and
Cuba. I was in radio intelligence sta-

tioned in Washington for two years
before I was finally sent overseas.

wo years passed before we had a
Г to see cach other again. I was
in England in the spring of 1943, a
year before Ernest ai 4, but Martha
Eot there as a war correspondent for
Collier's about six months after I did.
I wangled out of the soft job doing
radio intelligence work at the Embassy,
and into an Army uniform as а mem-
ber of a documentary film unit. Martha
lent me 20 pounds before she headed
back over to the Mediterranean front
the spring of 1944. Soon after, Ernest
came bounding into town. He had been
made chief of Colliers European
Bureau, а real tribute to Joe Knapp's
fair and forgiving nature after the fight
they had had in Bimini years earlier.
As Collie; chief of correspondents,
Ernest would approve expense accounts
cluding Martha's.

There was а lot of catching up to do
when Ernest finally arrived in London
six wecks before the invasion of Nor-
mandy. He sounded mighty cheerful
when | called him at the Dorchester
Hotel just after he had checked in.
Zome on over, Baron, soon as you
can. ГП meet you down at the bar in
10 minutes.”

1 reached the small
his hotel in seven n
just ordering а beer w
up, resplendent in a full beard and his
correspondent's uniform. "Ho,
you're looking good," I said.

"You too, kid,” he grinned and
punched me on the shoulder lightly. He
was effusive. “Those bucket seats on the
Lan r bomber were for the birds, but
we beat them here, the birds, Г mean.
The ones we saw over Newfoundland
and Ireland. Damn. Have you ever seen
such а green island as Ireland from the
air? I flew over with the RAF and those
chaps really knew the course. Beats
in line for а priority on the
ines. Here — what are you
drinking?" He saw the beer being poured.
"Bartender, keep that beer. Another
time it may save a life. But right now,
us brothers are going to have a few
mouthfuls of Scotland's most noted
product. Baron, don't you agree?”
"п backing you, Stein. How long's it
п since the Floridita?”

“Too long,” he said.
number of things later.

We got our whiskies, touched glasses
in ent toast, and drank. Then Ernest.
went on in а quieter, calm voice. “Got
somcthing to show you. Promise n
tell anyone? Anyone, you unders

1 nodded. Ernest took another swallow,
unbuttoned his tunic enough to reach

ar downstairs in
utes flat and was
Ernest walked

be

And hell's own.

into a shirt pocket, and handed me a
well-used envelope. I opened it and sud-
denly knew how good a man can feel
about a job that is over, when it has
been using all his nervous energy for a
long time.

It was quiet there in the small bar of
the Dorchester. Most people were up-
stairs dressing for the evening. Ernest
finished his drink and had another as I
read down the black sheet with the small
white letters. It was a photostat of a letter
on а Department of State letterhead.
Beyond “The United States of America.
Tread the name of the Embassy, the salu-
tation, and the involved, two-paragraph
statement by Spruille Braden, the Am-
bassador to Cuba who was the personal
representative of the President.

In sumn it stated that the bearer,
Ernest Hemingway, had, over a lengthy
period of time, performed hazardous and
valuable operations in the prosecution
of the sea war against Nazi Germany that
were of a highly confidential nature. The
undersigned was highly cognizant of the
value of these teful for the man.
ner in which they ha performed

‘Jeezus, man, you've done it ag:

Ernest began,
wasn't the time, or the danger. That was
the best part, truly. But those unprint-
able underlings had me feeling my
temper a couple of times.”

“What was the first time?” I'd been
а straight man for years, but never a
more eager one than at that moment.

“When they made me sign that memo
receipt. It was for $32,000 and и covered
only the radio equipment. We had good
stuff to listen with, stuff so sensitive you
could get bearings if you could keep the
boat from swinging. We even heard we
signals from out in the Atlanti

“Who was the crew? What equipment
did you have’

“That was the best part. The most
everybody could handle, and we stowed
it so it wouldn't show. During most of
the time we had a full crew — nine,
counting me. You wouldn't have known
her. The Pilar ha now. We
had the best crew we could get. They
were pros from the very start. Some
Cuban boats had been sunk damned
close, you know."

I knew, I reminded him about the
Colombians and the schooners that had
been machine-gunned, with survivors get-
ting back weeks later, They were people
we knew.

Thats what we hoped for, having
one come alongside like that.”

“Would you have been able to get
them?”
obody knows for sure, That was
bad luck. But you should have seen what
we carried, and our defenses. One of the

Jocal boys came to me and said, ‘Papa, I
don't feel good without some armor for
the boat. Why not carry armor? Then if
the Germans shoot straight at us when
we close in, we won't be full of holes. I
can't sleep good just thinking we ought
to have some armor. So then | found
some steel plate. We had one section
that would have stopped or deflected

anything but a fiveinch deck gun, and
maybe that. It was so damned heavy
when it was stowed, we trimmed
down by the head. She didn’t respond
well and felt logy. Plenty of our value
was being lost in weight. We had to be
maneuverable. But 1 carried the armor
anyway. The kid had been talking for
the whole crew, 1 figured. Finally the

hoy came to me
well knowing we are heavy in the water
So we took off the armor and
boat again.”

nd of damage could you do?”
New drinks were in our hands,

Plenty. Besides small arms, we had
chine guns, bazookas, and somet

1 don't sleep so

big to put the chill on a Kraut соп
tower. We had a bomb a short fı
and handles. We kept it topside, below
the canvas spray shield, unlashed and
ready to fling. The idea was to keep nos-
ing around where we heard them talk-
ing. Eventually one would surface and
order us along;

de. Then two of Ше crew

would arm the bomb, grab the handles,
and, as we came abreast of the sub’
ning tower, we figured to clean her decks
with our guns while we flung the bomb
over the lip of the conning tower. It
would cither blast the watertight hatch
off or go down the hatch and с xplode in
the periscope control area. Either way

con

we'd then have а live one that couldn't
dive. You know . . . all her code books,
armament, and the crew as prisoners Гог
intelligence to use against the rest of the
Kraut fleet everywl

“But no contact?

“None close in. We came awfully near
though. We could hear them talking out
by Cay Sal and both cast and west of the
city, down the coast. I found myself re
membering plenty of Kraut and they
used slang even, talking with each other.
The one we located for certain was
bombed by a plane the day after we
were called in. The pilot said he was
certain that he got it, but it didn't satisly
the Pilar’s crew. We got whistled in like
dogs that had found game but couldn't
stay to see it bagged.”
How long were you at it?”

Ernest considered that a moment. “One
time we were out for 90 days straight,
with me making trips into Nuevitas by
Jaunch for supplies. Hey, your old boat
is still running down there. | saw her
Another time we were out 103 days.
That's how I got this unprintable skin
cancer crud. Too much sunburn on same
places. Doctor advised skipping the shave
for several weeks, By then, had beard. 1

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39

My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (иша)

like it, so make cracks at your peril. Let's
have another drink."

"The next afternoon Ernest was his old
self, stimulating and full of energy. "Big
morning, checking damned documents
and thinking out coverage with Bill
Courtney and Joe Deering,” he said.
“Damnit, Г wish Marty would show up.
She's somewhere in Italy. I sent а radio
message yesterday. No answer. С?
kid. Let's walk. You can show me where
things are, without making it a Cook's
tour."

We headed down the edge of Hyde
Park, then past the Palace down Pall
Mall and over to Piccadilly Circus, and
then Bond Street, talking all the w
"Damn," he would say admiringly, from
time to time. "This is a rich country.
Look at that, Baron. Even after the big
bombing raids, these buildings stand up
well. And the clubs and homes. Such.
quiet taste. "The dough they have, they
know enough not to show. 1 even lik
the stores. Let's walk around by Hardy's.
I want to sce the place I've been buying
fishing tackle from for all these years."

We walked all afternoon. When we
got back to the hotel there was a message
from Robert Capa, the photographer,
and Ernest was olf for the evening.

1 saw Capa the next day. “Papa's got
troubles" he grinned. с bloody

“Th
beard scares off all the girls.

“I've got an idea,” 1 said, remember-
ig the old Chicago days. “Introduce
him to Mary Welsh. I saw her the other
day talking to Bill Walton. He'll know
where she can be reached.

In a couple of days, Ernest was feeling
personally admired again and life was
very pleasant around hi

"Come to our house. It’s a party for
Papa tonight.” Capa said а few days
after Ernest's arrival. It was a time of
great uncertainty. Only general officers.
knew how close D-Day was, and onc of
them had already been sent back to the
States for talking too loud. London was
bechive with all the frantic, often aim-
less activities There were always parties
by correspondents or officers and the
most popular party game seemed to be
the making of fascinating, guarded hints
to pretty girls. Everyone knew something
about everyone else. For journalism is a
fairly limited, crafty occupation. Those
who had survived a few years of it were
seasoned observers, versed in sources, in-
dications, and an ability to write hunch
stories. The coming attack was to be the
show of shows. It would
the wa
great fiascoes, the observers said.

At Robert Сара 5 apartment that night
there was a general air of scriousness
that soon disappeared with the diversity
of the drinks. Capa was a master at or-
ganizing, scrounging and liberat

this city full of rules and regulations, he
had organized a supply of the finest bot-
tles from various officers’ messes in the
city and nearby.

‘There were descriptions of great dis
patches, anecdotes of the times that fan-
tastic pictures had been caught, recitals of
inoculations, drawings of strange cquip-
ment and discussions of units that had
odd missions, and comparisons of stories
yet to be written.

We got to going back over so many
times, and the weird things that had
happened, that the time, the drinks, and.
gradually the other guests began drifting
out. Suddenly it was very late.

“That's the good thing about alcohol,"
aid. "It ruins your time sense. If
you pick the times of destruction,
you've got a very happy life ahcad
Come kid, let's box. We need some
We put down our glasses and
1 for a while.

ned Pinky. She was
а Belgian girl who had escaped; she was
freckled, charming, and an engaging
hostess. "Reason ] call her Pinky," said
Roberto, “is because she tastes like straw-
berries. Honest. Kiss her yourself and
sce." He was absolutely right.

Miss Pinky, my daughter, Ernest
said, "you are a treasure. You are the
kind we seek. You are something beyond
words."

Pinky was taken aback. She blushed.

“Now you do this.” Capa said. "She's

my girl. Don't make her blush. Get your
own girl.”
W ed some more. A good doctor

stayed out in the kitchen with us. His
name Peter and he was simpatico,
Ernest felt. He wanted to talk more
about things of the past and how things
had been. “Easy and lucky,” he sammed
them up. “Easy because that's the way it
goes best, and lucky or we wouldn't have
made it this far and we wouldn't be
here nov

The night was almost over and there
was а singing in my ears. We all were
intent on clearing the apartment and
went around saying, “Shhhh, shhhh,” and
out in the foyer we called "Good night”
in loud voices to signal our leaving. Sud-
denly we were out in the foggy night air.
Peter and his girl and Ernest headed
around the corn "ll drive you to the
Dorch," Peter said to Ernest. “You can’t
get a cab this time of night. Not even a
general could.

I called a last farewell in what seemed
much too loud a voice on those carly-
y streets, as they headed around
the corner. I faintly heard a car start up
as I went on down the block to my own
billet nearby. It was after three o'clock
of a cloudy moming.

I had slept less than three hours be-
fore first call. Out of the sack, dressing,

shaving nd on the move, P was out
of the billet, the last house next to a
bomb crater in Knightsbridge, within 10
minutes, In the early-morning air, 1 shed
the last of a hangover and in 20 minutes
had reached Ernest’s hotel on foot. I
rang. No answer on the house phone. 1
went up. As I walked down the hall to
is pale-green suite, it was absolutely
lent. He liked having people check on
him. I knocked. No answer. Г tried the
door. It opened. But neither bed had
heen disturbed. It was like the story of
Goldilocks, except nobody was home and
nobody would be for a long time. As J
ame out, Capa came down the hall.

Papa had an accident right after they
left this morning. Where were уои?

“I said good night and went to get
some sleep. Where's Papa? Is he badly
hurt?’

Not bad, just сш. He's in the hospital
right near here. They phoned me just
a while ago and J came over to see if any
опе was here. Lets go see him."

We moved swiftly then. At the hospita
in Knightsbridge past which I
alked, the night was still on. The da
stall hadn't taken over yet. No guard.
at the door. No permission was needed to
мет. There was only a sleepy adm
sion attendant who looked up room
numbers. We went upstairs to the room
where Ernest lay, hall propped up. The
top of his scalp was split not quite hall
open, pink and gaping. A bandage ran
like a halo around his head. Below it
twinkled those
everything.

“Hi, Baron, You missed a great ride in
the London air. Scen the papers yet?"

t happened?

“Hit a water tank right down the
block. Peter's legs are bad. His girl is all
cut up. I'm the lucky one. They'll oper-
ate оп cach of us, soon as the doctor
comes. 1 need some stitching donc. But
have you seen the papers?”

"No... why?”

“Some reporter came to the desk.
Thought he had a story. I want to see
what the press says. Those bloody un
printable . . 7 He was like a great bear
who had just had a meat cleaver removed
from his skull, He was hurt, But he
was far more thoroughly ged and
nothing was going to stop him at that
point. It was a poor time to say it had
all been an accident. Ernest had sud-
denly been thrown from the back scat
r into the car's windshield. What in-
ing he was going
to be in bed at such a crucial time.

7... so get me the papers, will you,
Baron? Don't worry about mc. I'll be out
of here and in bed at the hotel as fast as
possible. I just need a mending job. But
try and wangle some leave from your out-

VOL. П, NO. 19

Plavboy Club News

‘© Playboy Clubs International
Distinguished Clubs in Major Cities

Your One Playboy Club Key

Unlocks АЙ Playboy Clubs FEBRUARY, 1962

SPECIAL EDITION

PLANS NOW SET FOR BALTIMORE PLAYBOY CLUB!

PLAYBOY's Ultra-Modern Club
to Set Social Scene in
Chesapeake Bay Vicinity

ВлїлтмовЕ (Special) — The hub
of Baltimore's night-life area will
soon be enriched by the striking,
ultra-modern Playboy Key Club
to be located at 1006 N. Morton
Street, near famed Mount. Vernon
Square and the stately Belvedere
Hotel. Presently standing on the
Club site is an eighteenth-century
conch house which will be com-
pe у renovated to house five
levels of PLAYBOY's noted hall-
marks — good-hearted fun and
highly-proised entertainment.
Thus, Keyholders will be de-
lighted to enter the Baltimore
Club and find the familiar, yet
subtly different. Penthouse and
Library showrooms featuring so-
histicated talent; the Playmate
Bar with its hi-fi entertaj
center; the closed-circuit television

PLAYBOY CLUB LOCATIONS

Clubs Open 116 E. Walton St.

in Chieago; 7701 Въ
Miami; 7

in Los Angeles; 1014 E
Jefferson Ave. in Detro
1006 N. Morton St. in Bal
more; 3914 Lindell Blvd.
St. Louis; 136-38 Montgom-
ery St. in San Francisco.
Next in Line— Pittsburgh, Bos-
ton, Dallas, Washington, D.
Puerto Rico.

Я

‘ol dinini

ymate Bur (upper left). the Liv

from day to day; and th.
Playboy's

„ while they
‘atmospheres

PLAYBOY IN NEW ORLEANS!
| зи Pe

system; the sumptuous Living
Room Buffet; the Penthouse Prime
Platter and the hearty Playboy
Club Breakfast. And completing
this beautiful setting will be the
presence of the lovely and gracious
Bunny hostesses.

Moreover, special features of
the Baltimore Club have been
conceived with the acknowledged
good taste of the Keyholders in
mind. Fully aware of their appre-

tion and preference Гог Ше

Your One

Playboy Club Key
Unlocks

АП Playboy Clubs.

unique, the Baltimore Club will
5 magnificent cantilevered
e with steps winging out
a tall, stately marble column.
ight of this staircase will
lead to à level ing а Playboy
Clubroom— five levels in all.
‘There will also be a flood-lit
floating garden surrounding а
hrenthtaking waterfall.

THE PLAYB! CLUBS
ARE OPEN SUNDAYS

CHICAGO & NEW ORLEANS
4:0 omo А.

chiro (second from left) was on
President of Playbo:
s boy Club Key at the opening of
ured with the Mayor and Hefner are film star
a (left) and Bunny Chris Myers-

PLAYBOY CLUB KICKS OFF CHICAGO
CRUSADE OF MERCY CAMPAIGN
Club Employees Contribute $1,600

The Playboy Club is a good neighbor in each community. Bunny-Playmate
Christa Speck, representing 90 employees of the Chicago Playboy Club,
presents a check for $1,600 to Brooks McCormick, camı chairman of
the Crusade of Mercy. This represents an average contribution of $17.70
per employee for this year’s fund drive.

‘ially opens,
keys will be only available at the
$50 Regular Fee.

ths International
c/o PLAYBOY Magazine, 232 E. Ohio Street,
Chicago 11, Illinois

Gentlemen:
Please send me full information about joining the Playboy

1
а Club. I understand that if my application for Key Privileges is
$ accepted, my key will admit me to Playboy Clubs now in
" operation and others that will soon go into operation in major
& cities in the U.S. and abroad.

и
ер
z Name.
H please prin)
1
и Address жы
я
ури я
oom Вас sr Hie Zo C
oom Buffet (upper ri E >
Penthouse, featuring the "Playboy Prime L E
cautiful Bunnies. а пиш!

42

My Brother, Ernest Hemingway (continua)

you can. There's so damned much
x do, ГЇЇ need somebody reliable around
the join

That morning none of us in London
realized what bulletins had gone out in
the day's news. A British dispatch had re-
ported Ernest Hemingway killed in a
blackout accident in London. With war-
time censorship in effect, an error that
could have been corrected in a minute
during peacetime became an all-day job
of correction in May 1944. In the mean-

time, early-shift staff members on major
1

wspapers elsewhere were preparing
obituaries for the first time in Ernest's
lile. It took time for the major wire serv-
ices to straighten out the report. While
that was being done, people in far-off
places were mourning the loss of Mr.
Papa, the spokesman for a generation
that liked to think of itself as lost.
t few days passed in a whirl.
a-

macy. Once sewn up, Ernest's head was

ig him hell, but he didn't want to
it it. And when Marty came to visit,
there were words bandied about. These
were followed by notes to be delivered.
I was the messenger. It was a bad spot to
be in because I felt a definite loyalty to
cach of them and hated to hear things
that rankled.

le, Ernest left the hos-
(сет укриват те roges
grouchy as а bear with sore toe-
15. Though ordered to stay away [rom
alcohol, he was pouring himself whiskey
only five days after the accident, and
growling to himseli whenever room serv-
ice was slow, or if my errands took un-
duly long. He read a lot of newspapers,
but without seeming to care how con-
trived the bits of news were.

It was just a weck after the crash, but
Ernest was dressed and ready to get some
exercise when 1 reached his suite one
morning.

"How's the head actually feeling?”
"It’s working all right, kid. It throbs
pretty good. Took my pulse this morning
just by listening. The way it feels, you
Ought to be able to hear it right [rom
where you're standing . . . Come on, let's
walk. I want to sec some of the RAF
types today.”

No human being ever talked Ernest
out of an idea. He cither tried it or dis-
carded it himself. That was how it was
when, through friends, he managed to
get permission to go along on first one,
then two, low-level missions in Mosquito
fighter bombers against “targets of op-

first flight only 10 days
after the accident, and when he told me
what had been arranged I did a kid
brother's level best to slow him down,

pointing out that sudden changes of al-
titude could bring on bleeding and that
as the son of a physician he knew he
ought to wait until the stitches were
removed.

‘Skip all that, will you, Baron?’

“It’s been skipped because you're in
charge. But you should wait.”

“This is when they're flying these mis-
ns. They run into all kinds of inter-
esting things. You know me, kid. I'll be
back.” Then he went down the hall. He
said he wanted to ask the maid for some
small gift, for luck. Hc came back with
a champagne cork.

The next afternoon Ernest was up i

Baron. I felt terrific as we came back
He had seen а lot of country, had been
in some fast action, and the plane had
not been hit or knocked down, or sct
ahre, or forced into a scrambled landing.
Best of all, his head wound hadn't hem-
orrhaged. Tt was a fantastic chance he'd.
taken. He had his own reasons, call them
reactions, for taking that chance, Any
logical man would have stayed in bed,
istening to the arterial throbbing while
the ice packs melted on his brow. I rcal-
ized Ernest had found а drastic cure for
the blues that had been trying to set in.
Looking out the window, he said in a
d, quiet voice, "She only came to see
me twice while I was laid up and hurting
here. What a way for a wife to Бе...

From then оп. whenever anyone a
about Martha, Ernest would exp!
briefly, "She's here, too, right now. But
this isn’t her arca. She was assigned to
the Mediterranean theater of operations.
And i - Down there, 1
mean.

Fach of them tried to put personal
feclings aside when it came to business.
They were, no matter what their per-
sonal problems, cach capable of deliver-
ing great value in their publishable
dispatches. Yet Martha was
regard Ernest
official who would look over and author-
ize her expense accounts, "He's worse
than the Government,” Marty told me
by way of summing up Ernest's attitude.

Then one day things really began mov-
ing. "Get ov supply рі
draw me some equipment, Baron. Here's
the list.”

Ernest was already thinking of some-
thing else as I read down through web-
belting. canteen, haversack, helmet and
liner, wool сар underliner, correspond-
ent's note case, first-aid pouch, gas mask,
tack, and other

“Hey, Stein,” 1 said.
right away?"
He nodded.

оц want this

Ehe

place at the PX is

apply

mobbed right now. I came by there
this morning. Could bring you my own
gear as far as possible. I can always re-
place it later. It would have my serial
number, though."

“That's OK. Из fine with me.”

So Ernest went through the active
part of. World War II with equipment
lettered “Hemin; 10601462" on the
reverse of everything.

In the wecks before D-Day there had
been a campaign strange to the prac-
ticed observers the public relations
fild. Throughout London the corres-
pondents were literally being given the
pitch. Young publicity-conscious officers
were telling them why they should join
the such-andsuch group during the in-
The public at home was full of
curiosity and every outfit was conscious
of home-town publicity.

Ernest had been approached by sev-
eral outfits. One that he liked consider-
ably, because of its leaders, was the 4th
Infantry. The major general in charge
was Raymond Barton, an intelligent
Southerner with a bushy mustache, who
loved his men and his assignments,
whatever they might turn out to be. He
had made gentlemen out of clods and
riflemen of ditchdiggers. The 4th In-
fantry Division had Theodore Roose-
velt, Jr, а man of thought as well as
action, as onc of its three brigadiers.
He was a New York cditor with guts,
stamina and ability and had just come
through the North African Campaigns
with the kind of record most officers
dicamed of. General Rooscvelt’s aidc-
de-camp was Captain Marcus B. Steven-
son, son of the then Governor of Texas
Stevie knew Ernest was the combat cor-
respondent he wanted, the one person
the men in the outfit would respect.
Stevie outlined a campaign, carried
out, and won the interest and decision.
Ernest would go in with the 4th, wher-
ever it went, The publicity siege was
over.

А great scurrying movement spread
over the staging areas the first weekend
in June. There was a lot of talk, but it
was all small talk. Emest headed down
the coast where he would load aboard
the attack transport Dorothea Fox. I
went with another unit to Scotland where
we boarded the cruiser Southampton.
With hundreds of thousands of other
Allied troops, we crossed the Channel the
evening of June 5, 1944,

This is the third installment in
Leicester Hemingway's four-part biog-
raphy of his brother Ernest. The last
installment will appear in March.

“Ро you folks realize that we may be snowbound up
here for two or three days?”

43

ANTHONY FROM AFAR

behind his slick facade
there was a dangerous
brittleness, a ghastly begging

fiction. By BERNARD WOLFE

1 REMEMBER MY FIRST MEETING with this Anthony. It
was in the busiest social center in Hollywood, the
assembly room that is to the actor what his club is to
a London barrister; the unemployment insurance
office on Santa Monica Boulevard.

My friends, who know what I think about the
handing out of Trinkgeld and other lagniappes to
the laughing boys of the acting fraternity, will ask
what I was doing in a place like that. I was not after
handouts. The way it happened, a friend of mine, a
bristleedged New York novelist named Gordon
Rengs, had made the mistake of staying on in Holly-
wood after finishing his first movie script. The hotter
hotheads of the Writers’ Guild, fellows who are
pleased to think that the typewriter has something
fundamentally in common with the pick and shovel,
had clenched their fists, a gesture not саву to make
when your fingers are hooked with writers cramp,
gathered up their exclamation points and put through
a strike for a two-pool wage. Months passed. Gordon,
who had literally eaten up his savings, had had to
choose whether he would let his electric typewriter
or his Alfa-Romeo be repossessed and, being the ro-
mantic he is, had decided for art over mobility; as
he had no way of getting around, 1 had offered to
drive him to the money dispensary.

Well. This day 1 was walking up and down in the
rear of the unemployment office while Gordon Rengs
tried to collect his bonus for not working. A rangy
young fellow with ominous shoulders came over to
take his place in one of the pay-window lines and,
looking over the room as though it were the lobby of
Grauman's Chinese on premiere night, his eye caught
mine, he stared, there was a moment of large question
marks; after which his classic cowpoke countenance
lit up with a smile I can only describe as canyonesque.

It's not an unmixed blessing to have а well-known
face. People have peculiar, much too emotional, reac-
tions when they meet in the flesh a face they have seen
over and over on the movie screen or the television
tube. Some of them want to take it home. Almost all
of them want to touch it. (continued on page 56)

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fare i e ДЕТ, e Zs

FITTING OUT FOR TWIN-EARED SOUNDS

Лот the best that’s new in stereo gear, the editors

THE MOST IMPORTANT RECENT DEVELOPMENT in the world of high fidelity
is, of course, the long-awaited debut of stereo, or multiplex, FM. For the
benefit of anybody who may have tuned in late, we should explain that
the FCC in Washington has finally put its seal of approval on a method
for broadcasting stereophonic program material over a single FM carrier
signal. The technique by which one station can broadcast two separate
channels is called multiplexing. It involves transmitting a combination

$500: Our suggestion for a moderately priced, good-sounding rig would include the Sherwood 5.8000, which incorporates а
stereo FM multiplex receiver, plus a 64-watt (32 per channel) power amplifier and control unit; Garrard’s Type A Automatic Turn-
table, which is both a turntable and a changer, with calibrated stylus-pressure gauge, fitted out with a Shure M77 Dynetic
cartridge; the music goes round and round and comes ovt a pair of Jensen TF-3 speaker systems, smallish yet full sounding, each
with 10-inch woofer, two midrange units and spherical tweeter. Optional: АШефз KN-1402 equipment cabinet at $74.50.

eauuoe q3asA3-MIWT AOA TUO рипта
select four rigs gauged to your preferences and pelf

of left and right channels on the main carrier, while a subcarrier trans-
mits the "difference" between the two channels. An ordinary FM radio —
sensitive only to the main carrier — will continue to give forth mono
sound in proper balance; a stereo FM radio — with its built-in multiplex
circuitry designed to decode the subcarrier — will sort out the left and
right channels and pipe them into your stereo speakers. This sounds com-
plicated, and it is; but it does seem to work with startling success. The

Ric =

m Bee ery DB

$1000: stepping up a notch in beth preference and pelf, we lean toward Fisher's 800-B AM-FM all-in-one multiplex receiver
with 65-watt stereo amplifier and control unit, and a Stereo Beam indicator to tell you when you've hit a multiplex signal; the
Thorens TD-124 Transcription Turntable with a variable speed adjustment control and illuminated stroboscope, coupled with an
Ortofon RMG-309 tone arm end SPU-GT cartridge; the speakers are a pair of Tannoy Dual 12” Concentrics in Belvedere Senior
enclosures that give out refreshingly open and honest sounds. Optional: University's Medallion Credenza equipment cabinet at $180.

47

bugs that plagued some of the carly stereo FM transmissions — excessive
background noise, capricious separation, and the like — have apparently
been eradicated. And with more and more FM outlets converting to
sterco all the time, we sce nothing but fair sailing ahead. You'll find an
abundance of stereo FM tuners, and of multiplex adapters for existing
mono tuners, already in production by the major component houses.

Although sterco FM has been hogging most of the limelight in recent
months, a couple of other new developments are worth reporting. The
trend toward miniaturization of high fidelity componentry scems to be

$1500: At this figure, the compleat fidelitarian can have just about anything he craves. We suggest he start off with the
Empire Troubadour turntable, arm and cartridge combination that tracks perfectly at one gram in utter silence; а Bell 1-337 four-
track stereo record/playback tape deck plus two Electro-Voice Model 664 microphones; H. H. Scott model 350 stereo FM tuner,
ultraselective and drift-free; to run it all, a Fisher X-202-B 75-watt Master Control Amplifier; for clean bass and treble, a pair of
Bozak B-302As, a three-way speaker system mounted in Urban enclosures. Optional: Bozak’s C-305U equipment cabinet at $185.

gaining momentum, It's true that most of the large manufacturers are
still giving transistors а wide berth — on the principle that the transis-
tor's superiority in the audio field has yet to be proven — but a couple of
the smaller outfits are concentrating on transistorized equipment exclu-
sively. presumably to some profit. Whatever the electronic pros and cons
of transistors versus vacuum tubes, there's no doubt that transistorized
gear has definite advantages when space is at a premium. Omega Elec
tronics' 60-watt stereo control amplifier, for instance, measures a slim
three inches from top to bottom; and since transistorized equipment

TRI

|
|

AND UP: ње guy with plenty of cash and spare room, а Rek-O-Kut Model B-12H turntable with Shure's Model 232 tone
ат and Audio Dynamic’s ADC-1 cartridge; Miracord Studio Н automatic changer with Pickering 381 cartridge; Sony's transistor-
ized 777-5 record/playback stereo tape recorder plus two Shure Model 330 Uni-Ron microphones; Harman-Kardon Citation Ш-Х
stereo FM tuner; National's NC-190 AM and Shortwave receiver; Marantz Model 7 preamplifier powered by two Marantz Model 9
70-watt amplifiers; Electro-Voice Patrician 700 speaker systems; Superex ST-M headphones. Optional: Barzilay cabinet at $230.

49

PLAYBOY

50

runs cool, you don't have to worry about
ventilation. Speaker systems are shrink-
ing in size, too. The Rek-O-Kut/ Audax.
Sonotecr system manages to sequester
five speakers in an enclosure that meas-
ures four inches from front to back;
Jensen's -P Thin Line system (also with
five speakers) is сусп thinner. It's only
fair to add that some strong differences
of opinion exist as to the feasibility of
extracting adequate bass response from
speaker systems this small. We'll duck
the fight and propose that you listen for
yourself. The question of balancing off
compact size against the ultimate in per-
formance is а purely personal equation,
anyway.

"We note also a continuing trend to-
ward compact, low-cost, integrated turn-
tablearm combinations. The British
Garrard people did the pioneering in
this arca а couple of years ago with their
excellent Type A Automatic Turntable.
Now there are competing units from
Miracord, ESL and Acoustic Research —
all of them beautifully engineered and
all costing in the neighborhood of $100
complete with cartridge. Some superb
new cartridges are available, too—high
in compliance, minute in mass, capable
of lifting master-tapelike sounds from a
wellcut stereo groove.

In the early, uncluttered years of high
fidelity, the problem of housing compo-
nenty never seemed much of a problem.
A foot of shelf space for your record
changer, some obscure cranny for a low.
powered amplifier, a corner for the
speaker— and you were in business.

But soon sonic complications set in.
FM broadcasting began to revive itself,
and room had to be found on the shelf
for a wide-band tuner. Then, since good
radio fare is worth a repeat performance,
more space had to be found for a tape
recorder. Next, the compact 10-watter
was retired in favor of а many-knobbed
control amplifier of impressive power
and bulk. while the original changer
gave way to a heavy-duty hysteresis turn-
table with a long, delicately counter-
balanced tone arm. By this time the shelf
had developed an alarming sag — and
books had clearly lost the battle for Le-
bensraum. Stereo administered the final
blow by booting the inconspicuous
folded-horn speaker out of its modest
corner and depositing two new acoustic-
suspension systems in full view along a
prominent wall. From this moment dates
the proposition that high fidelity appa-
ratus should be heard and not seen.

For a while, the proposition was sim-
pler to enunciate than to implement.
Cabinetry lagged far behind componen-
try in the first flush of stereo. But today
stereo esthetics have caught up with
stereo electronics. The handsome phono-
graph is back in fashion — and even the
alLout fidelitarian will concede that you

can have your decibels and decor, too.

The freestanding equipment cabinet
undoubtedly serves as the most popular
and widely applicable contrivance for
getting stereo gear out of sight and into
logical operating arrangement. It can be
small or large, plain or fancy, cheap or
expensive — according to your needs,
taste and bank account. An economy.
bent do-it-yourselfer (in this case, a finish-
it-yourselfer) can spend as little as $62.50
for a nifty cabinet from Allied Radio
that houses two pieces of electronic gear
(generally, a tuner and control amplifier),
a changer or turntable, a few dozen
records, and two bookshelf-size speaker
systems at a separation of five feet. On
the other hand, the affluent can go to a
custom cabinet house (for example, Gray
Sound Corporation in New York City)
and spend $800 or so on an individually
designed behemoth that stretches nine
feet in length and hides speakers, audio
electronics, TV screen, and a posh bar
behind disappearing tambour doors of
the rarest tropical hardwoods.

Between these extremes there exists a
wide selection of good-looking cabinetry
in the $100 to $300 range. Bozak's Urban
equipment cabinet (8185), which we've
shown on page 48, falls into this mid-
Фе category. Its lines are simple, its
construction solid, its internal layout
well conceived. Tuner, preamp and
power amplifier are panel-mounted be-
hind the left door; records or tape-player
go behind the right door; а changer or
turntable nestles into a well beneath a
lifttop on right. Speakers in separate
enclosures flank the cabinet on either
side. Altogether a dandy choice for con-
temporary quarters, But it's by no means
the only choice. Fine stereo furniture is
being turned out in profusion these
days, and with most of it you can't go
wrong. "The chief things to demand are
adequate ventilation (even the Magic
Fire Music sounds better when your
equipment isn't overheating), easy acces-
sibility (tubes do have to be changed
from time to time), and provision for
an occasional upgrading of your gear (a
Properly designed box—one with re-
movable mounting pancls, for example
— will not box you in).

OF course, the equipment cabinet isn't.
the only answer to the problem of stereo
housing. If you're decorating your pad
from scratch, you may find an even bet-
ter solution in the “music wall” — which
integrates high fidelity equipment into a
general storage complex. This is the ap-
proach followed by Sherwood Electronic
Laboratories in its new Correlaire line
of modular units. Here, the equipment
and speaker cabinets form part of an in-
tegrated assemblage that can include a
TV cabinet, а drop-leaf bar cabinet
(which comes with a set of glasses — but
no potables), a drop-leaf desk, a buffet
(with shelves for dishes, drawers for

linen and silverware), and chests and
bookcases of various shapes and sizes.
Pick the units you need, stack them on
Sherwood's modular bases, and you have
an attractive wall for stowing away the
prime appurtenances of the good life.
We've also seen some sleek music walls
constructed from the Danish-made Royal
System components — superbly finished
teak cabinetry that hangs from long
wooden rails affixed to the wall.

It has been our pleasure recently to
gather together a considerable quantity
оГ the new components and to assemble
them into four suggested rigs of varying
cost and complexity. We submit them as
a general guide to the prospective stereo
fidelitarian. One of the rigs is а sky's-the-
limit deal for the man who doesn't have
to look at price tags. The other three
can be put together for approximately
$500, $1000 and $1500. The operative
word is “approximately.” Discounting
has seeped into the high fidelity trade,
and list prices can sometimes be subject
to reappraisal — particularly for the cus-
tomer in quest of a complete rig. Re-
member, though, that you'll want your
equipment properly guaranteed and
serviced —so be wary of the cashand-
carry dealer who offers a whopping dis-
count and nothing else.

We begin with the man who wants a
basic, up-to-date listening system at the
lowest possible cost commensurate with
decent quality—a figure which we put
at about $500. The kernel of his system
is a stereo FM receiver that combines a
sensitive multiplex tuner, a flexible
stereo control preamp, and a fairly hefty
power amplifier all on one chassis. We've
chosen the Sherwood $-8000 ($299.50) —
an allin-one unit that uses 21 tubes
(plus four silicon rectifiers) to deliver
32 watts per channel. The record player
that feeds into the 5:80008 phono input
jack is the aforementioned Garrard
Type A Automatic Turntable ($79.50),
which combines the solidity and preci-
sion of a professional turntable with the
convenience of automatic changing. Its
dynamically balanced tone arm (with a
calibrated stylus pressure scale, of course)
will accept practically any cartridge on
the market. Our choice is the brand-new
Shure M77 Dynetic cartridge ($27.50),
an improved version — in terms of stylus
compliance, frequency response, channel
separation, output level — of this firm's
much-respected M7D model А pair of
Jensen ТЕЗ speaker systems ($79.50 each,
unfinished) completes the rig. The TF-3
encases a 10-inch woofer, two 34-inch
midrange units, and a high-frequency
spherical tweeter in an unobtrusive,
smallish enclosure. It's good value for
the money. Even so, we find that we've
gone over budget by $65.50 and. haven't
even provided a case for the Sherwood

(continued on page 116)

NEXT TO PIZZA AND MOTELS, one of the most prevalent
phenomena in the land today is group psychotherapy.
In teams of anywhere from six to 12 members, the
groups gather regularly for mass problem-probing
and advicc-offering sessions, cach individual playing
to some extent the role of analyst as well as patient.
Now I, for one, have no quarrels with this unique
form of psychic togetherness, but I can't help concern-
ing mysclf with some of its possible consequences. For
example, to what extent does the intimacy of the
formal group session carry over into the after hours
social life of its members? And, perhaps even more
important, after members have become so emotionally
dependent on one another, where —
in so-called normal, everyday situa-
tions — does the individual begin and
the group leave off?

The Time: About nine on a Satur-
day evening.

The Place: An East Side Manhattan
apartment.

The Cast: The members of a regu-
lar Wednesday-night psychotherapy
group.

The Occasion: A housewarming
party given by one of the group,
named June.

“June, I can't tell you how charm
ing your apartment is, and the party's
just great. Bur then, yours always are."

“Thank you, Bill, Im glad. you're
having such a nice timc. It's always good to scc you."

"Say, June, de you have a minute? There's some-
thing I want to talk to you about.”

“Certainly, Bill. What is и?”

“I hardly know where to start .. . June, the 10 of
us have been in this same group now for about a year."
"hat's right, Bill."

"And over the past 12 months all of us have gotten
to know and understand you better than you do
yourself."

“The same goes for you, too, Bill. And all the others
in the group. But what are you getting at?”

humor By LARRY SIEGEL

“June, during all this time you've . . . you've . . .
I don't know how to say this . . . well, you've grown
to become rather fond of mc."

"Bill, your feelings for me are quite strong, too.”

“Do you mean that?”

"Of course I do . . . Oh, Bill, excuse me, there's
someone at the door. I'll be right back."

"Hi, Nancy, come right in. The party's just getting
under way."

"Hello, June, what a lovely place you've got here.”

“Thank you. Oh, say, Nan, I meant to ask уой...
Who was that distinguished-looking gentleman who

took you home after last Wednesday's
session?”

“That? Oh, that was my father.”

“The bastard!”

“Well, June, I guess ГП go inside
and say hello to the rest of the gang.”

“Fine. As a matter of fact, Bill and
I were just discussing something cx-
tremely personal. Why don’t you come
over and join us?”

“Thank you, no. I'll let you give
me all the details later."

“Hi, Bill . . . Sorry to run off on
you when I did. Nancy just arrived.”

“Forget it, June . . . Anyway, what
І was going to say was that you've
been trying to tell me something for
the longest time now, but you don't
quite know how to go about it.”

"Oh, Bill, believe it or not, you've been wanting
to say something to me, too.”

“June, a kind of strange feeling has come over you
the past few weeks and you can't really explain it.
АП you know is that whenever I'm near you, you
веет OE

“Oh, damnit, Bill, there's the doorbell again . . .
Honestly, I’m so excited over what you've been telling
me. Please don't budge till 1 return.”

"Hello, Art, I'm so very (concluded on page 99)

a few well-couched words on group therapy, the thinking man’s philter

52

UNDERSLUNG ZATH

a second imaginary menagerie
for children of all ages

SILVERSTEIN’S
ZOO

salire By SHEL SILVERSTEIN

WILD CHEROTE

THE WRATH OF THE ZATH

I fear the wrath

Of the Underslung Zath.

" Р Will someone else tell him
I'd like a coat of Wild Cherote. It's time for his bath?

It's warm and fleecy as can be.

But note: What if the Wild Cherote

Would like a coat of Me?

A COAT OF CHEROTE

QUICK-DISGUISING GINNIT

THE GINNIT

This is the Quick-Disguising Ginnit.
Didn't he have you fooled for a minute?

ТНЕ SILLY CRAWFEE

"That silly fish, the Crawfee,

Has been swimming in my coffee.
But now I've drunk it up

And he isn't in the cup.

And he's nowhere to be found ...
Do you think that he has drowned?

MUFFER

SEE THE MUFFER
Above, you see the Muffer, who , . .
You don’t?
Well anyway, you sec his tracks, the Muffer has gone to зир...
You don’t?
Why that sly old beast . . .
I do believe he’s gone and covered them up!

TRAP FOR A FURLESS FLATCHIM

HOW TO CAPTURE A FURLESS FLATCHIM

The most contrary beast alive

Is the Furless Flatchim.

What do you think of this clever trap
That I've invented to catch him?

53

ABOUT THE BLOATH

In the undergrowth

There dwells the Bloath

Who feeds upon poets and tea.

Luckily I know this about him,

While he knows almost nothing of me.

GREEL’S EGG

THE EGG OF THE GREEL

This egg is the Feather-Breasted Greel’s.
If it makes you feel funny just looking at it,
Imagine how the Greel feels.

UPSIDE-DOWN HALLOOHALLAY

THE HALLOOHALLAY HAS TRIED

The Upside-Down Halloohallay

(1 think his name is Fred),

He stood up on his feet one day

(At least that's what the neighbors say),
And wied his best to stay that way.

(But oh, there was the deuce to pay,
The blood went to his head!)

WHEN THE SLINE COMES TO DINE 4

When the Glub-Toothed Sline
Comes to my house to dine,
You may find me in France or Detroit
Or off in Khartoum,

Or in the spare room

Of my Uncle Ed's place in Beloit.

You may call me in Philly,

Racine or Rabat.

You may reach me in Malmó or Ghor.
You may see me in Paris,

And likely as not,

You will run into me at the storc.
GLUB-TOOTHED

You may find me in Hamburg, SLINE

Or up in Saint Paul,

In Kyoto, Kenosha or Gnome.
But one thing is sure,

If you find me at all,

You never shall find me at home.

DROAN

FEEZUS

ТНЕ BALD-TOP DROAN

I sce you there, old Bald-Top Droan
Hiding in that ice-cream cone.

I'll get awful, awful sick

If I give your head a lick.

THE TERRIBLE FEEZUS

There is a terrible 20-foot Feezus.
Shhh ... 1 don't think he sees us.

PLAYBOY

56

ANTHONY FROM AFAR (continued from page 44)

, the more perverse, would like to
In very few cases can they simply
let it go by on the assumption that,
after all, it is a face like any other, with
the standard capacity for gulping things
down and making noises, distinguished
only in the sense that it has gotten
around and been photographed more
than most. I have never considered it
any clinching proof of merit that my
features have been ogled at and day-
dreamed over by multitudes; all that
means is that I have worked with pleas-
ing regularity over the past 20 years,
accumulating exposures the way a hod
cartier accumulates calluses. But it also
means that it is not easy for me to walk
down the street or in any way appear as
a private citizen in public places. My
face has become a magnet, even a target.
People keep stopping to gape at me and
I never know whether they're going to
say hello or spit.

This young fellow snorted, gaped,
goggled. He left his place in line to walk
over to me and say, “Unless I'm secing
things, no, I've got to be right, ив Far-
ley Munters.”

1 did not care for the muscled hearti-
ness, the positive, belligerent joy in his
manner, all the more so considering the
nature of the place he had cornered me
in. Lsaid, "E don't think I've had what
is called the pleasure?”

“Гуе been sceing you in pictures for
years and years," he said with enthusiasm.
Of course he would want to drive home
the chronological gap between us; young
actors use their one weapon, youth, like
a machete. "I'm a big fan of yours, Mr.
Munters, sir." His deference I found in-
sulting; 1 am, after all, only a shade past
40 and not yet entirely used to being
thrown in with the sirs. “My name's
Anthony Trilling, sir."

Не was very blond. He was very tall.
He was at the most 24. His eyes were im-
possibly blue. Though dressed abomina-
bly, with a yellowish saltand-pepper
jacket and offgreen, welt-seamed slacks
that looked like rejects from a Salvation
Army swap shop, plus suede desert boots
that seemed to have been run through a
bog of French's mustard, he had the
snub-nosed good looks that stand out оп
a dance floor and the leanness through
the hips and thighs that goes well on a
saddle or skis or in а sports car. He was
obviously an actor who introduced him-
self all the time to strangers; his hand-
shake had too much breezing energy for
а man whose entire program at the mo-
ment was to collect a stipend for not
doing the one thing he claimed he could
do with enough professionalism to justify
people paying him good money for it.

“If that's really your name, I'm happy
for you,” I said. I was not happy with

myself when I heard my mouth adding,
“I'm waiting for someone.”

“Right. Sure. You betcha. Mr. Mun-
ters,” he said with the air of reciting
high mass, “I would never in my worst
nightmares think of you at any time in
your life collecting unemployment.” He
made a dramatic hissing sound between
his teeth. “A man like Farley Munters,
unemployed! That'd be like, like Ber-
пата Baruch оп. on a bread line!”

Then Gordon was coming up, grunt-
ing, “No pourboires for us literary folk,
they tell me I'm not eligible for payments
because I’m on strike. Strike me dead
and they very well may. There goes my
ІВМ after my Alfa. 1 won't be able to
write, not even home for moncy, without
my trusty electric typewriter. Arise and
shine, ye prisoners of starvation.”

As I turned to leave, Anthony Trill-
ing said, invisible hat in hand, practically
curtsying, “1 only hope before I'm
finished to be one tenth the actor you
are, Mr. Munters, one twentieth."
“Work hard, and don't eat
fatty foods.”

He said seriously, “That’s a heck of a
good tip. I'll do that, you betcha.” With-
out warning he unleashed a smile that
was all equatorial sun.

Hollywood is a town of drugstore and
coffeehouse cowboys, and most of their
hangouts are along the Strip. When I am
home with my family in Kew Gardens I
stay put, Г have no interest in seeing
faces without blood connection to mine
and even those that are so related to me
I would rather not see uninterruptedly,
but when I am by myself in Hollywood
I pick up the local virus fast, a virus that
makes you jumpy and a bit feverish un-
less you're sitting in some Strip estab-
lishment at a marble table drinking an
espresso or a mocha frost; I become one
more cowboy with round and hungry
eyes, staring and being stared at.

What I stared at a staggeringly dis-
proportionate amount of the time, in
the days that followed, was the young,
eager, lean-boned, relentlessly enthusias-
tic face of Anthony Trilling.

‘The first time I saw him I was driving
home from the studio along the Strip
and had stopped for a red light at La
Cienega. Anthony Trilling was standing
оп the corner diagonally across from me,
devoting all his attention to an eye-
buggingly constructed girl whose black
hair was piled in a beehive hairdo and
whose entire lower half was stunningly
outlined by glarepink Capri pants
hugging her skin straight down to her
studded gold high heels. She was hold-
ing on to one of his hands with both
of her own, trying to keep it away
from her, and he was systematically

slapping her lovely cheek. He looked up
for a moment and saw me. He flashed
a big how-are-you grin, waved, and re-
turned to his work.

‘Two nights later I met Gordon Rengs
at the night club called the Crescendo.
Gordon had earlier been at a strike mect-
ing of the Writers’ Guild at the Beverly
Hilton and he was telling me in tones
of disbelief how it felt to attend a pro-
Jetarian rally in the fanciest grand ball-
room in town while half the clenched-
fist firebrands were at the bar in the
lobby with their fists clenched around
martini glasses.

“There's a difference between us,” he
was saying. “I felt uneasy in that ball-
тоот, it seemed to me we should all of
us be in white ties and tails and doing
the tango with Ginger Rogers or Rita
Hayworth, and instead there were men
raising their fists and demanding that
we start to picket the exploiting studios.
Men making $2000 and $3000 a week,
wanting to march up and down carrying
placards against the exploiters. I don't
fully understand this town. There seems
to be a class struggle going on between
various strata of millionaires.”

A tall figure congealed alongside our
booth. It was Anthony Trilling, dressed
in a ridiculously short-jacketed and lean-
legged Italian suit vaguely olive in color
and with a high sheen.

"Mr. Munters!” he beamed. “A pleas-
ure, Из real good to see youl” Saying
which, he took a seat next to me and
assumed а man-to-man pose. "I'd like to
explain something, about the other after-
noon, L want you to know, Mr. Mun-
ters —"

"Allow for the possibility,” I said,
"that I don't want to know. There is an
infinite variety of things in this world
that I prefer to be kept in the dark
about."

“No, listen," he said in dead earnest,
"I know it must have looked funny. See,
this girl, the thing of it is, she was sort
of living with me, and she went over
to Schwab's and ran up a bill of close
to $200 for cosmetics and junk like that,
all on my charge account, only by this
time she wasn't living with me any morc.
When I ran into her and accused her of
doing it out of spite, why, she got nasty
and dared me to do something about it,
so I had to belt her. Two hundred, that's
а lot of loot, and us not even being to-
gether any more and all.” Не nodded,
satisfied with his logic.

“Some theoreticians might say that in
certain circumstances a girl could need
$200 worth of cosmetics to cover her
black-and-blue marks,” I said. "J wouldn't
say that, necessarily, but some theoreti-
cians might. Some cosmcticians, too.”

“Get the point?” he said, ignoring my
point. "We were already busted up, Т
told her to get lost and moved her stuff

(continued on page 58)

PE RI LS
q uiz i PASSION by ROLF MALCOLM

CC OM The course of Crue Tove, and even of light
dalliance, has never run smooth, as we know, but few lovers
of our acquaintance have actually risked a legislated death
penalty for a moment of bliss. Such a dire punishment for
such a tender transgression is not unknown in literature, how-
ever. Listed on this page are descriptions—but not the titles
—of five novels, plays, etc., in which a stern law imposes
capital punishment for unwed shenanigans. All—well, all
but one—are extremely well-known works, and even the single
obscure work that we’ve included just to be stinkers is by a
famous master. Your job, of course, is to supply the missing
titles. Rack up a score of five and you'll go scot free; get four
right and we U commute the sentence to life; get only three cor-
rect and we'll have to make that solitary confinement; any-
thing lower—off with your head! The answers are on page 117.

1. An English operetta once banned | Ве An English novel that has not a

in the U.S. single word in its title.
2. A Hebrew book of las and marion 4. оша, ери Дт
die authors.

De A German opera by a composer who, while persuading the wife of
his dearest friend to become his (the composer's) second wife, was at the same
time asking another friend to be on the lookout for a wealthy
woman he (the composer) might marry.

PLAYBOY

ANTHONY FROM AFAR

out, and after that she went and hung
this charge on me. A thing like that,
you can't let them get away with й
arly the following week I was having
а quiet lunch by myself in the com-
misary at MGM, where I was working
on a picture. Up came, of course, of
course, Anthony Trilling, this time
shaggily splendid in a jerkin and pants
of unshaved buffalo hide, black wig cas-
cading to his awesome shoulders, a jagged
scar running like a file of caterpillars
from his forehead to his chin. He in-
formed me that he had a part as a buffalo
hunter in a popular television show,
small but with some lincs. I congratu-
lated and added that supporting
roles are not to be dismissed because
enough of them enable an actor to sup-
port himself and thus keep from being
a public ward.

“Farley,” he said with his own brand
of programmatic joviality, "I'd like you
to know, we're just about made up.

“Уоитс madc up very well,” I said.
"Your hair looks like the forest primeval
and that barroom brawler's scar seems to
have been come by honestly."

"What" he said. His face looked
puzzled, then eased back into its custom-
ary grin. “Oh. You mean my make-up.
1 wasn't talking about what they did
to me in make-up. What I mean is,
Nore and I made up.”

“Могуа?”

"Norva Hameel You know, the girl
that was with me that afternoon.”

He sat down. Now that he had put us
on а firstname basis, which I disliked
more than his calling me sir, he ap-
parently assumed that we were natural
luncheon partners.

"Norva's that ice-skater that became
he said informatively. “You
know, she did a couple things on TV,
the Perry Como show and the Frank
Sinatra show, she got pretty good notices.
We're getting back together. She's class,
she's a ratey chick, though sometimes she
gets out of line and you have to come
down on her. Women don't respect you
otherwise, they figure you for some kind
of patsy if you let them walk all over
Бато

“You mean, И they walk over you they
have a tendency to walk out on you?"

“That's the absolute truth of it,” he
said. “They don't walk out on me.”

About that time I took to dropping
over to Сугапоз in the late evening to
have an espresso and see the busty sights.
All the people in the area who weren't
nailed down by families, or who had
families that had run out of nails, were
beginning to congregate in this tastily
setup room. It was a good cofleeing
place for a dislocated New Yorker with.
the handcuffs of time on his hands; he

(continued from page 56)

could always find there a tableful of
other New York D.P.s trying to fill in the
hours until blessed bedtime. Here I
would meet with writers like Gordon
Rengs and Ivan Masso and an occasional
actor like Tony Reach, one of the few
members of my profession whom 1 can
tolerate socially because his attitude to-
ward life is that of a truck driver, which
is what he looks like, rather than an
actor, and we would play the game of
topping each other's witty sayings while
we watched the girls, the fantastic girls.

One girl I found myself watching with
regularity was Norva Hameel. I found
her to be extravagantly designed in all
details. She was in the place every night,
each time with a different man who was
never, not once, not even for a moment,
Anthony Trilling. The men she appeared
with were invariably 20 years older than
Anthony Trilling.

Anthony ‘Trilling was there, too.
Never with anybody. He always sat in a
far corner, his back against the wall,
looking the crowd over as he sipped his
cappuccino, the picture of the dashing
young man about town having a quiet
coffee break from his hectic night life.
The smile of masterful self-assurance
never dimmed on his face as he surveyed
the room and toted up the lush possi-
bilities. Every so often he would casually
pick himself up and stroll to another
table to chat with somc particularly
striking girl, leaning close to her, talk-
ing into her ear with jocose insinuation,
the smile fixed on his face with all its
stickum sureness; after a few minutes
he would amble lazily back to his table
and tzke up his solitary post again, smil-
ing as Cheshire-catly as ever, very certain
of himself and his multiplying merits.
The one girl he never tried to speak to
was Norva Hameel. He never looked in
her direction. For her part, she never
looked in his.

He developed a horrible habit. The
first few times he spotted me at a table
he would beam his indomitable smile
my way, wave his hand in a respectful
salute, and let it go at that. But the
fourth or fifth evening, after he had
made a few sallies toward the girls at
neighboring. tables, only to return to his
own with his lips twisted in supreme
cockiness, he suddenly, after studying
our group, reached a decision, heaved
himself to his feet, and came over. He
said. “Farley, fellows, nice to see you,
mind if I sit down?" And before I could
figure out an answer that would mean
no without spelling it out he was in-
stalled next to me, giving me the affable,
we'reall-in-thistogether grin, elaborately
at ease with himself and the world. It
got so that he was joining us each and
every night we assembled there. A ghastly

silence as of the grave, of Forest Lawn,
of Utter-McKinley, would fall over the
table the moment he loomed up. We
never had anything to say to him. My
friends simply assumed that he was my
buddy — he had actually taken to calling
me "old buddy" — and continued to talk
among themselves, leaving me to cope
with this hilarity machine. They referred
to him as Farley's beamish boy and
were happy to grant me a monopoly on
him.

For some reason he assumed that I had
a ravenous hunger for all the least details
of his biography. Before too many eve-
nings had passed he was busy filling me
in on his life story.

“I was a lineman for the telephone
company in Ann Arbor, Michigan," he
told me chattily. “That was how I made
my living, climbing telephone poles and
splicing wires. I never thought about
anything but shinnying up poles days
and balling nights. But the girls, the
5 especially, they would always be
kidding me about how I looked like a
movie star and I ought to be in pictures.
I always took it for a lot of loose jaw
and I just balled away the nights and
never let it get to me. But then these
Hollywood people came to Ann Arbor
to shoot a picture on location and damn
if one of the girls didn't go up to the
producer and tell him there was this
young stud in town with a million-dollar
face and build and he would be a
natural for the movies, and she got this
man to take a look at me. You know
how it is, Farley, I went along with it
just as a gag."

"For laughs,” I said. "For the lark

of

Sure. But the producer, he looked
me over and said it was worth a try, if
I would pay my expenses out to Holly-
wood he would arrange for a screen test.
Me, a monkey on the telephone poles,
going to Hollywood for a screen test!
But the chicks, they kept after me and
after me. And the guys down to the tele-
phone company, they were forever
bugging me about it, too. So finally I
said, what the heck, I was due for a

acation anyhow, what was the harm to
it if I took me a trip to Hollywood and
balled around some with the glamor
chicks. So I went, just for a vacation.”

“To see the sights,” 1 said.

“And ball me up a storm, Well, the
studio didn’t offer me a contract or any-
thing like that after my test, but it’s
close to two years now and here I am
in Hollywood, with my own pad in the
hills and working enough on TV to get
along, I've got union cards that say I'm
ап actor and I'm on the scene and not
complaining. Not me, Farley, no sir. Not
that I'm so hipped on being a big actor,
из not that primarily. 1 like the life and
they tell me I've got some future here,
(continued on page 62)

attire By ROBERT L. GREEN fresh continental trendsetters from the italian riviera

three fashion finds

The indefinable but unmistakably ап look of tailored noncha-
lance is tastefully and imaginatively epitomized, we feel, by our show-
cased trio of fashion discoveries on this and the following pag

the elegantly unorthodox fourbutton spectator sports suit with
vertical front pockets, the tropically awningstriped dinner jacket
with sel-covered buttons, and the rugged coarse-weave beige cotton
pullover shirt with color-coordinated slacks. (concluded on page 117)

Preceding page: our man in San Remo charms а signo-
rina in his immaculate linen spectator sports suit with four-
button jacket, sharp waist suppression, vertical front
pockets, side vents, half-belt in back, vertical-striped
silk lining to match shirt, by Roman Style for Cezar,
Ltd., $100. Above: on location in Portofino, а Roman
movie director surveys his sandy set in an awning-striped
silk jacket with self-covered buttons, center vent, by Brioni
of Rome, $110. Right: soaking up the sun in nearby Ra-
pallo, a beach-bound vacationer sets style trends — and
distaff heads turning — in a heavy-weave beige cotton
pullover shirt with four-button placket, $15; color-coordi-
nated coarse-woven linen slacks, $25, both by Gino Giusti.

60

PLAYBOY

62

ANTHONY FROM AFAR

but that's not the thing of it. Acting is
more or less a thing to keep me on the
scene in this balling town. What hap-
pened was, as soon as I made the scene
with these Hollywood chicks I knew all
the other places were spoiled for me, old
buddy. There arc balling chicks all over
the world but I tell you, the ones out
here are special. There's action in this
town. Too much for one stud.”

Another night he made a sweep with
his hand to cate all the special chicks
in this special place and said with a
humorous smacking of the lips:

“Know what? Sometimes I sit here and
look around and I have to say to myself,
this is happening to me, this is really
happening, because 1 can hardly believe
it. Look at them with their saucy faces
and blue eyelids that never stop batting!
"They're the most beautiful chicks in the
world, enough to make a man slobber оп
both sides of his mouth and in the eyes,
too, and they're in the same room with
me and they're right here for the asking,
the smiling, the nodding, the lifting of a
finger! Isn't that tco much? Isn't it the
end? What a grabber of a town, Farley!
It heaves the beautiful stuff at you and
all you have to do is hold your hands
out!”

He noticed that my eyes were on
Norva Hameel, who was sitting across
the room holding hands with a middle-
aged man I vaguely recognized as a
talent agent. His face turned serious,
serious for him, anyhow. the high-voltage
smile went down a few volts, and he
said in a lowered voice:

“Farley, I guess I forgot to tell you,
1 had to break it off with Norva again.
She's really hung on me, but she doesn't
know the meaning of money and she
sleeps all day long and she can't get to
sleep at all unless she puts her thumb in
her mouth and rocks herself back and
forth, back and forth. What I'm trying
to say, she's a kook, and living with
somebody as messed up as that is a drag.
I guess she was trying her best to make
it with me but her best isn't good
enough. There are too many swingers in.
this town for a fellow to try and make
it with a kook, one that can't get her-
self organized and moving. I didn't kick
up any fuss, I just told her quietly I was
sorry but we were getting nowhere fast
and she'd have to cut. She cried a lot
and 1 didn't feel good about that but
what can you do? I found her a nice
little pad off Robertson and helped her
move and it’s finished for good. I don't
talk to her when I see her around be-
cause it would just stir up all the sadness
in her and make her feel bad, and I'm
telling you straight, 1 wish her only the
best. She's a good kid in lots of ways,
but man, it's а messy scene, messy, and
there are too many other things to do

(continued from page 58)

with your young life.”

I watched Norva Hameel playing with
her companion's fingers while he planted
a kiss on her ear lobe. I said, “Exactly.
‘There's no point to stirring up the sad-
ness in her."

By this time Anthony was looking
around the room and turning on all the
happy face volts again. I could not think
of another word to say. Something about.
his unflagging good cheer I was begin-
to find insufferable; more than that,
it threw me into a profound depression.
My own face was fixed in a novocained
freeze that made me think 1 would never
be able to smile again, an exercise I do
allow myself from time to time, though
not too often or with too much broad-
ness or for too prolonged a stretch.

He became a little restless as my
silence went on and on. His hands went
up to adjust his slim-jim tie. Finally,
with his stubborn happiness clinging to
his face like overlooked egg, he said he
had to talk to somebody, excused himself,
and went over to a nearby table. He bent
down to talk some sort of special inti-
macies into the ear of a very pretty
blonde, who listened with sober face,
listened some more, looked up at him
for one shaved second with a polite on-
again-of-again smile, and turned her
back on him. His fingers went to work
on his tie again. He looked quickly
around the room, no slightest trace of
a sobering shadow on his face. He gave
me a fast and total grin, waved cheerily
and went out.

I tapped Tony Reach on the shoulder.
"You know a lot of girls" I said. "Do
you know the one over there?"

“Which one?”

“Norva Hameel, the dancer.”

“Know her? I had a wild 10 days with
her in Acapulco, last year I think it was,
yeah, sometime last year.”

“Do something for me, will you? In-
vite her and her friend over here and
keep the friend occupied for a while. 1
want to ask her something.”

“For you, old buddy,” Tony said,
“anything. Ask her any questions you
want except about Acapulco. I don't
want you to find out my trade secrets.”

Tony got up and crossed the room,
his big, rock-solid body swinging easy as
it does. In a minute he was back with the
couple, introducing them around. I
pulled out a chair next to mine and indi-
cated to Norva Hameel it was all hers.
She sat. If she really had bought $200
worth of cosmetics, I reflected, just about
all of them were on her face at this
moment, but all the same she was fantas-
tically made, a cunning bit of handi-
work, from her aquamarine eyes to her
high and mighty bosom and back up
again to her come-and-getit dimples.

“I understand you know somebody 1
know,” I sai my best offhanded style.
“Anthony Trilling?”

She looked at me with dark fjords
soaring in her wonderful blue-green eyes.
"He's a creep,” she said.

I don't know him very well."
Мей, I do, and he's a creep.

“I somehow had the impression that
you and he were pretty good friends.”

“Did he tell you that? Т never had
anything to do with him, ГА have to
have leukemia and I don't know, go bald
in the bargain, before I'd give him a
second look, no, a first look, still and
all he goes around telling everybody he
and I are very matey in ай departments.
That in itself shows you he's a creep,
doesn’t it?”

“As I say, I don’t know too much
about him. This interests me, Miss
Hameel. What do you find so objection-
able about him?"

"He's seen too many old Cagney
movies. He thinks the way to impress
the girls is to grind a grapefruit in their
face.

“He's tough with women?”

“He likes to show them his muscles.
He thinks it's manly to slap them
around. If you ask me, that's because
there's some question in his mind about
just how much of a man he really is"

“That may be very astute of you,” 1
said. “All the same, weren't you and he
pretty close at one time?"

"I get it,” she said. “He told you T
was living in his apartment. He went all
around town telling people th:

"And you weren't? Living in his apart-
ment, I mean? If you don't mind my
asking?"

"I was living there, all right. Only he
wasn't. Look, Mr. Munters, youre а
wonderful actor and Гус been in your
fan club for years, you're a man I really
and truly admire. so if you want to know
the facts about me and this nut I'll be
glad to give them to you. The way it all
started was, for months this Anthony
was following me around town like we
were at opposite ends of some umbilical
cord. He'd come up to my table in
restaurants and clubs and give me the
big hello as though we were pals from
the cradle. I always gave him the quick
brush because I've got по time for gawk-
ing boys when there are a few men
around. Then he began sending me
flowers and silk kerchiefs and charm
bracelets. I always sent his nothing pres-
ents back. Pretty soon he was ringing my
doorbell and calling me on the phone,
asking for dates, and I always told him
no, I make it a practice not to go out
with men under 40, which by the way is
true, I want to make a point of that, and
if he wanted a girl so bad why didn't he
go down and look over the pickings at
Hollywood High? There was по stop-

(continued on page 104)

“Frankly, 1 think you've learned to live too well

with your inner tensions."

63

ILLUSTRATION BY DEAN MEEKER

Jiction By GERALD KERSH

ONCE IN A BLUE MOON, when the Albany Post Road near Hethering-
ham is being repaired, the traveler is directed to a complex of dirt
roads whereon he may get to Bunterton. On such occasions, Mr.
Ciuccia sets a board on a pair of trestles by the wayside and puts on
display whatever wizened or retarded fruits and vegetables he may
have coaxed out of his obstinate little piece of land. So he makes
tobacco money. He smokes Toscani cigars — по! because he enjoys
them, but because their exhalations kill green fly, and he is proud
of his flowers. “Dey likea me, I likea dem,” he told me, reluctantly
handing me a potted Easter lily to which 1 had taken a fancy.

І paid for it, and said, "You might give (continued on page 118)

SPANISH
PRISONER

the resourceful picaro's
courage was matched
only by his enduring love

а nordic charmer
warms the
wintry scene

=
=
@
@
=

orway, a frosty land
of fjords and folklore,
haslong evoked superla-
tives from fanciers of natural
scenic beauty. Ideally illustrating
the wisdom of such praise is our
February Playmate, a captivat-
ing example of nature's Nordic
handiwork called Kari K nudsen.
Born in Romsdal, Norway, a
tiny hamlet of less than 80 souls,
Kari spent her girlhood there
dreaming of becoming an ac-
tress; two years ago she sailed
alone for the U.S. to seek her
own Valhalla amid Broadway's
neon glitter. In the States, our
green-eyed thespian has proved
to everyone's satisfaction that
she is amply endowed with tal-
ent as well as piquant beauty,
for she has already garnered a
fistful of stage, screen and TV
credits. А well-turned 23, Kari
is sold on horseback riding, knit-
ting, modern jazz and dating.
But she definitely docs not dig
over-egoed guys who call her
“honey” at first sight. Although
she is happily becoming Ameri-
canized, Kari occasionally has
a homesick hankering for the
fjords in her past; on winter
weekends she is apt to leave her
acting chores behind and go
native with a rink-a-ding whirl
of skating in New York’s Cen-
tral Park. Needless to say, this
lovely argument for interna-
tional exchange is an eye-catch-
ing figure skater (she cuts a neat
36-23-35). In the foldout, 5'4”
Valkyrie Kari presents a Valen-
tine dividend: her on-the-rocks
cavorting done for the day, she
relaxes before the hearth in a
fetchingly feminine pose, an in-
viting northern light in her eyes
as she warms both herself and
the winter season.

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

After an engagement of several years, George
and Gloria were finally married. When they
returned from their honeymoon, a bright-eyed
friend asked Gloria how she enjoyed married
life. Absent-mindedly, the bride replied: “To
tell the truth, I can’t sec a bit of difference.”

Sunday was to be the day of Joe's wedding,
and he and his father were enjoying a night
cap together before they retired to gather
strength for the next day's event.

Lifting his glass in a toast to his father, Joe
asked: “Any advice before I take the big step,
Dad?"

"Yes" the father said. “Two things. First:
insist on having one night out а weck with
the boys."

“Makes sense. And second?”

"Second: don't waste it on the boys."

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines old maid
as a girl of 24— where she should be about 36.

It has recently been brought to our attention
that a definite parallel exists between a mar-
tini and a woman's breasts. One is not enough,
and three are too many.

With a bushel of a ms you can have a hell
of a time with the doctor's wife.

Upon leaving a hotel bar one evening, an ex
ecutive friend of ours noticed a drunk sitting
on the edge of a potted palm in the lobby, cry-
ing like a baby. Because our friend had had a

couple himself that night, and was feeling
rather sorry for his fellow man, he asked the
inebriated one what the trouble was.

“I did a terrible thing tonight," sniffled the
drunk. “I sold my wife to a guy for a bottle of
Scotch.”

“That is terrible," said our friend, too much
under the weather to muster any real indigna-
tion. "And now that she's gone, you wish you
had her back."

"Tas right,” said the drunk, still sniffing.

“You're sorry you sold her, because you real.
ize too late that you love her,” sympathized
our friend.

“No, no,” said the drunk.
back because I'm thirsty again.

wish I had her

The girl who stoops to conquer usually wears
a low-cut dress.

But Robert,” she gasped, “why did you park
here when there are so many nicer spots far-
ther down the road?”

He stopped what he was doing just long
enough to mutter, “Because 1 believe in love
at first site.”

)

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines bachelor
as a rolling stone who gathers no boss.

While making the rounds of producers’ and
casting directors’ offices, Sally made a success-
ful contact, and as a result was offered a speak-
ing role in a featurelength Western.

"Ihe first day's script called for her to be
thrown from the horse into a clump of cacti.
"The second day, she had to jump from a cliff,
her clothes on fire, into a mountain stream,
and swim to shore. On the third day, she was
сийей around by the villain, and the director
—a stickler for realism — reshot the scene five
times. The fourth day, her boot caught in a
stirrup, and a runaway horse dragged her for
two miles.

Wearily, she managed to limp to the pro-
ducer's office.

"Listen," she said hoarsely,
to slecp with to get out of this picture?"

Heard any good ones lately? Send your favor-
iles to Party Jokes Editor, rtAvBov, 232 Е.
Ohio St, Chicago 11, IL, and earn 825 jor
each joke used. In case of duplicates, payment
goes Lo first received. Jokes cannot be returned.

“Disney will flip?”

73

article

Ву KEN W. PURDY

an appreciative
appraisal of the man
and the classic car that
bears his name

ШИП

Immediately above: sliding to a halt after a nighttime run, а Туре 37A Grand Prix Bugatti, 4 cylinders, supercharged. Top: the author's

ETTORE BUGATTI was an Italian who
lived his life in France among
Frenchmen, and he was, they said,
un type, or as we say, a character,
an exotic, one of a kind, greatly
gifted, proud, unswervingly inde-
pendent, indifferent to any opinion
but his own, amused, aristocratic,
impractical, profligate, a connois-
scur, a gourmet, a bon vivant.

He died in 1947 after 66 years of
life full of frenzy and creation.
"There are many photographs of
him. He is in one of his racing cars
in 1925, his two sons crowded into
the cockpit with him, one 14, one
three, Bugatti is smiling at the
photographer and waving, his hand
gloved in what looks to be immacu-
late chamois. Another, he is sitting,
six feet off the ground, in a car he
built for the Paris-Madrid race of
1903. Another, he is wearing goggles
and a helmet. The helmet is odd-
looking. M. Bugatti has been amus-
ing himself. He has taken a knife or
a scissors to the brim of a bowler,
and made a helmet of it. He didn't
cut it all off: he made a neat little
bill in front, to shade his eyes. An-
other, he is 25 or so, and apparently
about to go riding. He's wearing a
cap, a flaring short coat, pipestem
breeches he must have put on bare-
foot, a hard collar four inches
high, on his left wrist a watch and
a massive bracelet showing under
an inch and a half of cuff, alto-

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DANIEL RUBIN

1934 Type 50, a 115-mph touring cor, one of 12 of the type in existence. The unique three-possenger body is by Million-Cuiet, Poris.

PLAYBOY

76

gether a figure of shattering elegance and
sang-froid.

Bugatti made about 60 different mod-
els of automobile. One that he liked
particularly was Ше Type 46. It wasn't
his most inspired design, and nagging
litde things often went wrong with it.
A Parisian brought his 46 back to the
factory time after time. One day M.
Bugatti, Le Patron as he was known in
deference, came upon the fellow in a
corridor.

"You, monsieur, I think,” he said,
"are the one who has brought his Type
46 back three times?"

The man admitted it, full of hope.

Bugatti stared at him. “Do not" he
let it happen again.
King Zog of Albania, visiting in
France, wanted to buy a Bugatti Royale,
a ducal motor-arriage priced at $20,000
—for the bare chassis. The body came
separately, and expensively. Bugatti did
not, ever, care to sell 2 Royale, a Type
41, to anyonc who mercly happened to
have $30,000 or so, even if he was a
ng monarch. The aspirant cus-
tomer was always invited to spend a
little time at the Bugatti chateau in
Molsheim, in Alsace, so that Le Patron
might, covertly, estimate his character.
Zog came, saw, was seen, and heard, in
due course, that there was not, alas, a
Royale available, nor could one say, un-
fortunately, when the factory would be
able to make one.

“Neverl” Bugatti told one of his
assistants. “The man's table manners are
beyond belief!”

“My dear fellow,” Bugatti told a cus-
tomer who complained that his car was
hard to start in cold weather, “if you
can afford a Type 55 Bugatti, surely
you can afford a heated garage!"

Ettore Bugatti had earned the right
to be arrogant. The Туре 55 might пос
start first push on a January morning,
but it was the fastest two-seater on the
world market in 1982, and the most
beautiful, and while its 115 miles an
hour is no great figure today, half-a-life-
time later, it's not slow, and its fender
line is still the loveliest ever put on a
motorcar. No one else ever attempted
anything like the mammoth Royale, its
ne nearly three times as big as a
Cadillac's, its dashboard fittings of solid
ivory, a Jaeger stopwatch in the center
of the steering wheel, where men of
lesser imagination put a horn button.
(Ihe Royale had four horn buttons, on
the underside of the steering wheel, one
at each spoke.)

Bugatti's Type 35 Grand Prix car ap-
peared in 1924. In 1925 and 1926 it
won the incredible number of 1645
races. Some time in the future, some
other single model may do as well — but
the Bugatti record has been on the
books for 35 years now. In 1936 a Type
57S ran 135.42 miles in 60 minutes, and

it was 20 years before any other stock
passenger car went faster. And then
there's the Type 50, and the 44, the 37,
the 51, the 57SC . . . there have been
5000 makes of automobiles, and of them
all, is the Bugatti Ше most intriguing,
the most enchanting, the farthest ahead
of its time in its own day, and the most
venerated now? Very probably.

Enter the devotees:

Тһе man whose note paper carries,
not his name or his monogram, but the
scarlet oval Bugatti radiator badge, en-
graved in miniature.

The man who wears the Bugatti Own-
ers Club tic seven days а week.

The man who was suddenly presented,
in 1957, with an opportunity to buy a
brand-new Type 46, miraculously pre-
served through World War II, 75 kilo-
meters on the odometer. The only way
he could raise the money was to sell his
house, so he promptly sold his house.

The young lady of Paris, whose boy-
friend swore he'd go out of his mind if
he didn't have a Bugatti. The ycar was
1934, and money was tight. Her father
had it, though, and in cash, She killed
him, took it, and bought the car. Her
name was Violette.

It’s just а car, surely?

No, it isn’t, in the sense that it is very
like other cars. The Bugatti was so un-
like most other cars of its day as to be-
come, almost, a different kind of object.
‘This is truc almost in equal measure of
the Ferrari today. [t's no use trying to
convey to a man who has been driving a
new Cadillac for six months, the experi-
ence of driving a 250 GT Ferrari. He
won't understand because he doesn’t
have the frame of reference. Even peo-
ple who did have the frame of reference
were startled by exposure to some Bu-
gattis, as Mr. C. W. P. Hampton, a Brit-
ish connoisseur. writing in 1937:

"I had a ша! run up the Barnet by-
pass with Williams, the Bugatti works
demonstrator, who had brought over a
Type 575 electron coupe Atlantic. It was
simply terrific: 112 mph still accelerat-
ing over the crossroads past the Barn —
and the roads cluttering up with the
usual Friday evening traffic Along the
next stretch we did 122 mph, and Г
thought, under the circumstances, that
was enough . . . thereafter we cruised
along at a mere 90-95 mph, once doing
just over 100 in third gear . . . che speed
constantly maintained was prodigious
- . . along almost every yard of the
crowded thoroughfare . . ."

("Williams" was never called anything
else during the years he spent with
Bugatti as a demonstrator and a team-
driver. No one knew anything about
him except that he was young, Bri
seemed to have spent all his life in
France and could pass as French. When
World War П broke out he dropped
into the Resistance, worked successfully

for a long time, then disappeared at the
hands of the Germans. It is now known
that his name was William Grover and
that he held the rank of captain in a
branch of the British armed forces, pre-
sumably Intelligence.)

‘The truly creative make their own
worlds and populate them with people
of their own choosing. Ettore Bugatti
did that, and most of the people around
him were, like “Williams,” anything but
ordinary.

Says René Dreyfus, champion of
France and Bugatti teamdriver in the
1930s, “It was easy to believe, in those
golden years, that we were not living in
France at all, but in a little enclave, a
little duchy, Molsheim, quite independ-
ent..

Bugatti came to Molsheim, now the
department of Bas-Rhin, then in Alsace-
Lorraine, in 1906. "Thereafter he worked
in France, and thought of himself as
French to the bone — he called his Ital-
ian birth "that accident" — but he did
not take French citizenship until the
ycar he died. He had been born in
Milan, in 1881, son of onc artist, Carlo,
brother of another, Rembrandt. He first.
intended to be an artist as well, but he
judged his brother's talent superior to
his own, and it was not in Bugatti's na-
ture willingly to be second to anybody
in anything. In the years just before the
turn of the century, the automobile was
as exciting as the missile is today, per-
haps even morc exciting. Bugatti was
apprenticed to the firm of Princtti &
Stucchi of Milan, and in 1898 he built a
motor-vehicle of his own, and raced it,
probably a modification of a Prinetti &
Stucchi motor-tricycle. In the same year
he made a four-wheel car from the
ground up, and then another, which
won an award given by the Automobile
Club of France and a gold medal at an
international exhibition in Milan in
1901.

Bugatti’s gold-medal car so impressed
the French firm of De Dietrich that they
hired him as a designer. He was still a
minor, so his father had to sign the con-
tract in his stead. For the next few years
Bugatti designed for De Dietrich, for
Mathis, for Deutz, for Isotta-Fraschini
and, later, for Peugeot. While he was
working for Deutz, in Cologne, Bugatti
designed and built, in the basement of
his home, the small car which he called
the Type 13. He left Deutz in 1909 and
оп Christmas of that year he came to
Molsheim, with Ernest Friderich, a me-
chai who had been his friend and
associate since 1904. He rented an aban-
doned dye works, Friderich installed the
machinery and staffed the place and in
that year five cars were madc. By 1911
there were 65 employees, and Friderich,
driving a tiny 14-шег Bugatti, won his

(continued on page 100)

PLAY BOY
ALL-STARS

A LOOK AT THE
CURRENT JAZZ SCENE
AND THE WINNERS
OF THE SIXTH ANNUAL
PLAYBOY POLL

Jazz By LEONARD FEATHER In 1961 jazz opened its own New Frontier, a Frontier that was.
оп occasion, replete with politico-sociological overtones. Leading the way out of the night clubs — which (except
for scattered jazzoriented oases) are now past their peak as fertile breeding grounds for fresh new sounds —
ambitious young jazzmen showed themselves eager to seek out new horizons for their art. More and more, these
expanded boundaries were encompassing foreign tours, LPs and concerts. It was more than ever a jazz year with an
international flavor. Soon after England's Victor Feldman quit the quintet of Cannonball Adderley, Joe Zawinul
from Vienna sat in his chair. Dizzy Gillespie's major projects for the усаг included two suites written for him by
Lalo Schifrin, his Argentine pianisccomposer. Quincy Jones, the perennial cosmopolite of jazz, celebrated the
release last fall of Boy in the Tree, the Swedish film in which he made his bow as a movie orchestrator.
Operation Bands-Across-the-Sea started promptly on New Years Day, when Art Blakey's Jazz Messengers
flew to Japan, opening the following night at Sankei Най in Tokyo. His two-week tour, with singer Bill Henderson,
marked an ironic high in musical diplomacy, for Blakey triumphed where statesmen and politicians had feared
to tread. (“The greatest experience of our lives . . . we cried all the way home on the plane.”) This was the first
salvo in a year-long fusillade of jazz in Japan. Another highlight (organized, like Blakey's, by the young impresario
Monte Kay, a founder of Birdland) was the visit of the Modern Jazz Quartet, which played several classical-curn-

78

DUKE ELLINGTON, leader

DIZZY GILLESPIE, trumpet
CANNONBALL ADDERLEY, alto sax

THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STARS’ ALL-STARS

jazz works in concert with the Tokyo Symphony and was also received with Oriental enthusiasm.

Throw a few dozen darts at a map of the world and you'll probably hit the spots where American jazz was
red-carpeted last year. Additional high points: Les McCann's trio, amid tough competition (Basic, Ray Charles
and Lambert, Hendricks & Ross), got the only standing ovation and requests for encores at the festival in
Antibes, France. Audiences from Tel-Aviv to Amsterdam took Ella Fitzgerald and Oscar Peterson to their hearts.
Guitarist Charlie Byrd's trio, back from three months in Latin America for the U.S. Information Agency,
criticized Ugly Americans whose official arrogance and unhipness sometimes fouled up the tour. South
America also played host to its first commercially sponsored festival tour (Chris Connor, Roy Eldridge, Coleman

WES MONTGOMERY, guitar 7 RAY BROWN, bass
PHILLY JOE JONES, drums LAMBERT, HENDRICKS & ROSS, vocal group

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THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STARS ALL-STARS

Hawkins, Zoot Sims and Al Cohn) with the Voice of America’s articulate spokesman Willis Conover as compere.

One American jazz luminary who found foreign shores something less than hospitable was trumpeter Chet
Baker. The onetime Jazz Poll winner spent the year languishing in a Lucca, Italy, lockup on a narcotics rap.
Chet's incarceration and subsequent inactivity made him ineligible for the voting, although a number of readers
cast sympathy ballots for him. Only musicians able to work at the time the polls close are considered in the
balloting for either the Playboy All-Star Jazz Band or the All-Stars’ All-Stars.

Foreign strands cultivated their own fertile beds of jazz. Warsaw, Poland, held its fourth annual Jazz
Jamboree and there was even a jazz festival in Tallinn, Estonia, with local talent. At Karuizawa, a sort of

79

во

FRANK SINATRA, male vocalist MILT JACKSON, vibes

ELLA FITZGERALD, female vocalist MILES DAVIS QUINTET, ¿instrumental combo

Sauer

TUI

ШИ

midi:

ТИ}

THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STARS ALL-STARS

Grossinger's of Japan, the first all-Nipponese jazz festival was staged.

Lend-lease took on a new aspect as the Anglo-American exchange switched from big bands in concert halls
to soloists in night clubs. Britain's jazzman of the year, tenor-and-vibes man Tubby Hayes, played several weeks at
lower Manhattan's Half Note, in return for which Zoot Sims was allowed to stretch out for a similar stint at the
Ronnie Scott Club in London.

Speaking of tenor man Scott's club reminds us that the past year found a slew of American artists doubling
as bonifaces. Singer guitarist Barbara Dane used her Sugar Hill bistro in San Francisco not only as а base Гог
her own talents but for the reintroduction of blues veterans such as Tampa Red and Mama Yancey; pianist

JOHN COLTRANE, tenor sax

GERRY MULLIGAN, baritone sax
Reese eos 9 g 9 9 v ee s o qv

OSCAR PETERSON, piano

SA

п

4

715

Z

ia

Ure — \
тааб
пипане СЩ SET IN
THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STARS’ ALL-STARS

Ahmad Jamal enticed Chicagoans with not-too-far-out jazz and not-too-far-East cuisine at his Alhambra restaurant
(unhappily defunct at year’s end); Shelly's Manne Hole flourished on Cahuenga Boulevard in Hollywood as did
Pete Fountain’s French Quarter on Bourbon Street in New Orleans.

The nightclub field in general suffered from a near-famine of top jazz names. The MJQ, Garner, Miles and
anyone else who could afford it tended to cut club appearances to a minimum. But the less pretentious and
n watering holes — New York's Five Spot, San Francisco's Jazz Workshop, Chicago's Birdhouse, Holly-
Renaissance — retained their hold on an in-group of hipper fans, while the bigger spots, such as Basin
Street East in Manhattan and the Crescendo on the Sunset Strip, leaned to the pop fringe of the jazz crowd for

81

THE 1962 PLAYBOY ALL-STAR JAZZ BAND

J. J. JOHNSON,
MAYNARD FERGUSON, fist trombone

ih t

Dizzy ciues, 1005 ARMSTRONG, fourth trumpet
MILES DAVIS, Ion aA third trumpet
frst trumpet

CANNONBALL K) PAUL
ADDERLEY ||. DESMOND
S

TiN

CANNONBALL ADDERLEY,

af

YA | | frst alto sax
2 == 5 L y a PAUL DESMOND,
LAMBERT, HENDRICKS & ROSS, Ед FITZGERALD. FRANK SINATRA, еще
vocal. group female vocalist male vocalist DAVE BRUBECK,
piano,

instrumental combo

patronage, offering big bands and commercial-jazz combos.

The Playboy Club circuit, meanwhile, had developed into a meeting ground for established names and
fresh talent. David Allen, Johnny Janis, Aretha Franklin, Johnny Hartman, Jimmy Rushing, the Al Belletto
combo, Ann Richards, Phyllis Branch, Andy and the Bey Sisters, Irene Kral, Jerri Winters, Bill Henderson,
Ernestine Anderson and Lurlean Hunter were some of the hip voices heard in the land of вглувом.

In general, it was a newsworthy year for jazz on celluloid, mainly on the strength (despite a weak story line)
of Paris Blues, for which Duke Ellington and Billy Strayhorn spent several months writing and tracking their

82 score, some of it played by French musicians.

SHELLY MANNE,
drums

KAI WINDING,

second trombone BOB) BROOKMEYER, JACK TEAGARDEN,

third trombone fourth trombone

PLAYBOY
‚ ALL-STARS

nidi
m "

Vete (o0 Bos #0

Tee» ü
mem |

STAN GETZ,
first tenor
sax

JOHN COLTRANE,
second tenor sax
GERRY MULLIGAN,

baritone sax 7

ЅТАМ КЕМТОМ, РЕТЕ FOUNTAIN, мора
leader clarinet

BARNEY KESSEL, LIONEL HAMPTON,

guitar 200

Charlie Mingus and Dave Brubeck trekked to England to take part іп АП Night Long, furnished with а
Johnny Dankworth score. Teo Macero, penning the charts for a flick called Faces and Fortunes, promised “ап
amalgam of 17th and 18th Century sounds and modern jazz.”

Conversely, the swinging-private-eye trend on ТУ, a rocket in the Peter Gunn heat of 1959, by 1061 was a
burned-out firecracker. Asphalt Jungle, seen earlier in the year, had a theme by Duke Ellington and scoring by
Calvin Jackson, but was not renewed in the fall. ABC's Straightaway, an autoracing series with music by Willie
Maiden and Maynard Ferguson, played by Maynard's band, was one of the new sparks; meanwhile, Henry
Mancini, who fired the Gunn-shot that had started the whole race, defected to the films. (continued on page 129)

83

84 ILL CENT 2
ILL POWER 2..
IND GEN .60..
^ IND P&L 170.
ND E MEX 40s

i

SINCE THERE WERE NO open beds at the hospital when he arrived, the man had
been put temporarily in a room used for storing defective bottle caps. Seven
days after his admission he lay there among the caps, his eyes bulging sight-
lessly at the ceiling. A bowl of Spanish shawl fish stood on the table beside
him with a note against it that said, "Your favorites, from Mumsy." Four
doctors conferred in low voices around him and when the specialist from
Rochester arrived, they broke their circle to help him off with his coat. The
specialist was a neat man with lite feet, given to clasping his hands behind
his back, rocking on his heels, making smacking sounds h his lips and
staring off over people's shoulders. No sooner did he have his coat off than
he was rocking and smacking away, his glance shooting out of the room into
the midday sun.

“PI tell you frankly," the resident doctor said to him, "I didn't want to
go out of the house.” He was а nervous, middle-aged man, not technically
bald but with patches of hair scattered carelessly about his head. “We've
done a pile of work on him and I say if you don't have a specialist in the
house you're not a hospital. But it isa baffler and everyone kept saying bring
in Rochester and 1 do agree you get freshness when you go outside. Keep
going outside though and you're not a hospital. In any case, the house has
done it all, doctor. Blood, intestines, heart, neurological. We don't get a
sign of anything. Come over and have a look at the bugger. He hasn't moved
a muscle in a week.”

“Not just yet,” said the specialist, rocking and smacking, his eyes high,
glancing off tops of heads now so that the resident doctor found himself look-
ing into the specialist's neck.

“Гуе heard that you don’t look at patients immediately in Rochester,”
said the resident doctor. “We dart right over to them here. Oh well, Г guess
that's why one goes out of the house.”

“Nourishment?” asked the specialist between smacks.

“Yes, I know you're big on that in Rochester,” said the resident. “A few
nibbles of an American cheese sandwich now and then. That’s all he’s taken.
We thought we'd go intravenous tomorrow.”

"Pulse?"

“Fairly normal," said the resident. “1 like your reasoning. I have to con-
fess there was a time I wanted very much to practice in Rochester. Still, I
feel this is a sound house we have here."

“The patient's temperature?" asked the specialist, looking directly over-
head now as though annoyed by a helicopter.

“Irregular. It’s 1017 just now. The house is using the new electronic
thermometers. They're awfully good, get you all the way from 25 to 150
degrees, and they work in eighths. We're fussy about temperature and record
every fluctuation. It’s a program the house is developing — Snub Pulse,
Study Fever. It’s our pet around here, and we thought we might even
interest Rochester in converting.”

“What was it yesterday?”

"Let me sec —” said the resident, studying a chart. “It was 10356,
down around two points today.”

“And the day before?”

“One hundred even,” said the resident.

“Tell me,” said the specialist, lowering his eyes slightly for the first time
since his arrival, “was it by any chance in the 90s the day previous?”

“Ninety-nine and three eighths," said the resident.

‘The specialist stopped rocking and his eyes met the resident's full this
time. "It held steady at that figure three days before that, didn't it?”

“Why, yes,” said the resident. “Right on the button four straight days.
You're good. Funny, you think you've got something down pat, temperatures,
for example, and far away in another house, there's someone running circles
around you. Excellent show, doctor. You've got to go out of the house now

fiction my BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN

“were champs at temps,” the medic said, but more than а
doctor was needed to chart the patient’s inexplicable fever

>
е
а
>
=
ы
А

86

and then, you really до.”

“Plimpton Rocket Fuels," said the
specialist, his eyes wide now, his mouth
open.

“Fuels?” said the resident. “Are they
a hive? I didn't see any sense to skin
work since the whole thing's so up in
the air, so I just skipped right over
Our house dermatologist checked
though and found his skin clear."

"Electronics; said the specialist, be-
ginning a slow rock of deep concentra-
tion.

"Im surprised you buy that theory
up in Rochester,” said the resident.
"Why, the radiation level is so low here
in Queens, it would take . .

"You don't understand," said the spc-
cialist. "Electronics. Electronics stock.
I'm in it. For seven days your patient's
fever chart has followed the exact pat-
tern of Plimpton Rocket Fuels, which
closed at 10174 today. I know because I
called my broker and asked him whether
I should stay in.”

“I don't know what to do about a
thing like that,” said the resident. “You
think it’s mental, eh? I tell you if it’s
psycho we shoo them right on. We're a
good house, but we're a small house and
we're not equipped to do head people.”

"It's a glamor issue, too,” said the spe-
cialist, peering at the sun. “That means
wide swings. Christ, if only he'd been
on a good, solid blue chip. All right,
ГЇЇ have а look at hin

The patient was a neutrallooking
man who might have played hotel clerk
parts in movies. The specialist took his
w and rocked back and forth with
it a few times as though trying to lead
him from the bed into a tango.

“OF course you see more of these in
Rochester than we do,” said the resident,
“but it seems to me all he has to do is
liquidate his holdings, Such a man has
no business in the market.

Тһе specialist passed his hand over
the man’s eyes and the resident said, “I
don't know, sometimes I feel by your
silence you're rapping the house. ГП
stack it up against any house its size on
the Eastern seaboard.”

The specialist kneeled now and whis-
pered to the patient. “Are you in
Plimpton?”

The patient was silent.

“How many shares of Plimpton do you
own?” the specialist whispered.

The patient continued to stare gold-
fishlike at the ceiling, but then his hands
fluttered.

“Pencil and paper,” said the specialist.

“We've got everything, the resi-
dent, diving into the bedside table. The
patients hands took the equipment and
in a weak scrawl wrote:

Stock Market not for our kind.

Drummed into me from childhood.

Work too hard for our money. Had

im

а thousand, wanted to put it into
Idaho Chips. Remembered Mom's
words. Not for our hind. Would
have been rich. Once lost a hundred
on colton futures. But no stocks.
Thanks for your interest, Jerry.
“But why Plimpton?” the specialist
said to the window, crumpling the note.
"OF all issues to get on. Gorch Gas and
we'd have a chance. AII right, it won't
affect anything, but try to get some
liquids into him. There won't be any
till the board opens tomorrow, but keep
me informed as to any changes in tem-
perature."
"We check temps every 12 minutes
around the clock," said the resident doc-
or. "You'll havc to twist our arms to
get a pulse reading from us, but we're
champs at temps.”

The specialist visited the patient at
four in the afternoon the following day.
“I know, I know,” he said to the resi-
dent, “she jumped two and three cighths
today. That stock will give you fits. If
you think that’s a swing, watch it for a
while. You've got to be out of your mind
to stay with Plimpton. Still, it’s exciting,
a crap game every day. Tell me, did he
go with it?”

“Right to the fraction. You remember,
the stock opened a little soft and he was
up taking applesauce. But that wave of
Jate-afternoon buying finished him right
off. I've got him in ice packs now. I was
up all night with our temps and the
Dow Jones index. I thought there might
be some more of this. The house is ter-
ribly sensitive about epidemics. I came
up with an ulcer patient in the ward
who was on Atlas Paper Products for
three days, but I checked the market
today. Atlas went off four even and our
ulcer man closed at 10314. So I guess the
Plimpton fellow is all we've got. You
must see much more of this in Roch-
ester than we do.”

"I don't want to talk about Roches-
ter," said the specialist. "We've got a
sick inan and if I know Plimpton, there
isn't going to be much time. If I was
on one, I wouldn't want it to be Plimp-
ton, Get his wife down here. Maybe E
can tell us how this started.’

‘The patients wife had a vapid but
pretty face and a voluptuous figure. “1
guess you know your husband's hooked
up to the market,” said the specialist,
rocking and smacking a bit, his eyes
wandering off down the hallway. “So we
thought we'd get you down here. Do
you know of anything he had to do with
the stock market that might have gotten
his fever tied on to Plimpton Rocket
Fuels?”

“Jerry doesn't like anything white
collar,” said the woman, flouncing and
rearranging her figure on the chair. “I'll
give you our whole marriage. He married

me ‘cause I had red hair, green cyes and
big boobs. He got me on the phone once
by accident and we got to talking and
he asked me what I looked like and I
told him red hair, green eyes and big
boobs. So he come right over and we
got married. I don't know if he goes to
the stock market. He goes to the burly
a lot. He'll go to any burly, even in
Pennsylvania. He says he likes the co-
medians but I suspect he's looking at
boobs."

"You don't feel he's ever plunged
around on the big board then?" said the
specialist, making soft, speculative smack-
ing sounds with his lips.

"Are you making those at my things?"
said the woman, gathering her Persian
lamb stole about her shoulders.

"I'm a doctor," shot back the spc-
cialist.

"Well, I don't know," said the woman.
“Jerry delivers yogurt. He's not in the
union so he has to do his deliveries on
the sly. He doesn't like anything white
collar. 15 any of that what you mean?"

"You haven't helped us," said the
specialist. "We've got a sick man.”

When the woman had flounced olf
into the elevator, the resident said, "A
house is only human. What can any
house do against opposition like that?"

"She can go to beans," said the spe-
cialis. "What's Plimpton doing now,
10414? That means it's all up to the
President. He's coming over at 11 to-
night. You'd do just as well to drop your
temps and tune in on him.”

In his address, the President called
for an end to spiteful silences in our
relations with the Russians and Plimp-
ton took it on the chin to the tune of
a five-and-a-quarter-point plunge.

“I know, I know,” said the specialist,
getting out of his coat and making for
the patient's bed. “His fever's broken
and he feels better. Look, I've had this
baby since it came on the boards at two
dollars a share and if you think Plimpton
is going to sit at 99 you're all wet. Did
he close with it?”

“Of course,” said the resident. "But
something's going on in him. We've
never зееп anything quite like it in the
house. Get your ear down on his epi-
glottis

The specialist did so and said,
clicking soun

“Not unlike that of a stock market
ticker tape, wouldn't you say?"

"The specialist got down again and
said, "It goes tick-a-tack-tick-tick, tic
tack-tick-tick. Is that the way you get it?”

“More or less," said the resident. “It's
certainly good for a house to get a wide
variety of things. І may even suggest
that we stop shooing off psychos. What
the hell.”

The patient's hand fluttered and the

(concluded on page 98)

“Its a

The continuing popularity of
Sy vested interests in men’s attire
isa trend that will bear watch-
ing ina special way this season:
the venerable pocket walch has.
resumed its time-honored role
as an elegant accouterment for
the gentleman's waistcoat.
Losing none of their classic
masculinity, the handsome new
pocket chronometers combine
< tasteful tradition with clean
design. Watchwords aside,
consider this impressive show
of hands. Left to right: per-
petual calendar watch in 18K
gold with 18-jewel Swiss
movement, moon phase in-
dicator, by Patek Philippe,
$1050; contemporary 14K
gold watch with 17-jewel
Swiss movement, by Girard
Perregaux, $175; 14K yellow-
gold watch with 23-jewel move-
ment, sterling silver dial,
hinged back with protective
inside cap, by Hamilton, $275;
18K gold watch with 18-jewel
Swiss movement, 24-hour dial,
revolving rim that tells time
anywhere inthe world, by Patek
Philippe, $1050; sturdy 10K
gold-filled Railroad watch
with 21 jewels, block-numbered
dial, rustproof hairspring, by
Elgin, $97.50; gold-filled pock-
et alarm watch with 17-jewel
Swiss movement, luminous
hands, by Le Coultre, $75. <

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up-to-
the-
| manute
| watches
AW fo
is adorn the
ry gentleman’ s
wi vest

TIMELY
REVIVAL

а laurel-wreathed salute to the beautiful signorinas of the eternal city

pictorial
essay

Above, | to г: forum-framed Marilu Tolo is a model member of Rome's high-fashion legions. Gamine Mori Bruna promenades

THUE GIURILS OF

а

with a bouquet of balloons. Linda Veras idles enticingly in her Tiberside flat. Syrian-born Antonella Lualdi is a voluptuous movie veteran at 21

90

axis of a stupendous pagan empire, the capital of Chris-

tendom. It has stood while Babylon, Byzantium and Carthage crumbled, Yet Rome is young.
After 2500 years of turbulent history it retains its magnetism for travelers of every faith and nationality. Borne on
DCs instead of clephants, brandishing American Express checks instead of spears, bent on pleasure instead of
plunder, they invade today's Eternal City in annual armies of 18,000,000 from every corner of the shrinking
globe. Many, in the black, white, red and yellow habits of countless Catholic orders, come as spiritual pilgrims.
Some, wearing expressions no less reverent, come to bask in the lambent afterglow of the Renaissance or to explore
the world's greatest repository of antiquities from four millenniums of human history. A few, not unreasonably,
come solely to worship at the altars of Bacchus and Lucullus in Коте? cornucopian array of restaurants. But
most come simply to join the city's 2,500,000 denizens in that civilized celebration of the (continued on page 126)

3

МЕ IS THE OLDEST, AND PROBABLY THE GREATEST, of the world's capital cities. It has been the lodestone
r 3 and fountainhead of Western civilization, the

Top left: theater-buff Raffaello Carra takes time out from her ambitious schedule of diction and dramatic lessons for the daily ritual
of o rooftop sunbath. Top right: Fiorella Viglietti, а student of classic dance, pouses to sip ot a sidewalk fountain en route to
historic Piazza del Campidoglio for a tour of the Capitoline Museums. Above: raven-tressed Stefania Sabatini, а dolce film starlet,
ambles down the teeming Via Veneto, Rome's flower-fringed, frenetic mecca for the smart set, to meet her date at an outdoor coffe

Top left: Tania Dragos, о bit player in La Dolce Vito, lives her own
sweet life in the baroque opulence of a Palatine pod. Above:
bolletophile Tayna Berryl adorns the garden of a Roman villa.
Left: Cathia Caro has pradigious film aspirctions,andassets to match.

Top: Claudio Cordinale, а broodingly beav-
star, is touted to rival BB in S.A.
Glockelinleft Germany to

er in Rome.

Left: Janine Jacquin, a transplanted Paris mannequin, lounges languidly between shootings ond showings. Above, clockwise from
top left: Londoner Maureen Lane went to Rome as an extra in Cleopatra, decided to remain there. 1 Anna Fillippini leons
from the balcony of her ultrachic digs overlooking the Piazza di Spagna. Starlet Barbara Nelli observes a daily Roman ceremony:
the midafternoon siesta. Terry-swathed Luciana Gilli exudes a feral, full-bodied essence indicative of сев Italian origin.

Top left: Lucia Branconi is an unabashed oficianado of rock 'n' roll and pasta. Top right: Anita Pallenberg nurses an espresso at a
sidewalk сай. Above: actress Папа Occhini muses in the muted medieval splendor of la Cabala, Rome's most elegant night club.
Right, from top: in the renowned Palazzo Orsini, socialite Lina Sotis sits amidst regal Renaissance trappings. Gianna Cagnetta
rests beside a stone lion in the Borghese Gardens. At nearby Ostia lido, Gabriella Botticelli wades winsomely into the Tyrrhenian.

Right: floxen-hoired Gesa Meiken, с
recent emigrant from Hamburg, de-
buts on screen this year in Boccaccio
"70, а much-heralded spectacular.

| „ауто JAVY 1

- p.
+ hy
Set 7 d

the eunuch

Ribald Classic

A freshly translated tale from Les Cent Nouvelles Nouvelles

indsome as
bi

THERE LIVED IN LONDON in olden time a young secretary who was as
he clever. He worked for a jealous пи
young wife, and he burned to sample the favors she d aded bel fore his с:
eyes. One day the young fellow decided to tell her how he felt. It turned out that
she shared his sentiments and had been ма 5 а woman should, for him to
make the first move. Once he made it, she reciprocated in kind and before very
long they were tasting the sweetest fruits of lov

For some weeks this idyl lasted, for the secretar 5
employer and the young man made the most of the plentiful opportunities offered
him. But the lovers feared that some day the jealous husband might stumble upon
them flagrante delicto or, at the very Icast, hear and hi ssip. Therefore, the
secretary decided to employ a stratagem of which he had heard. It required prac-
tice, but the time devoted to the learning of it turned out to be well worth the
trouble.

One day he approached his master with tears in his eyes and said: “Sir, there is
а secret in my life and 1 must share it with someone. Troubles shared, you know,
are troubles half removed. And if I don't talk to someone, I shall end up a madman
or a suicide."

“Come, come, my boy," said the master. "Nothing can be that bad. Let me share
the burden and keep the scart.”

The young man hesitated, but finally at the insistence of his employer he

nal young man, and people think I am, but, alas, I lack t

n and I am ready to dic of sadness."
y lad," said his master.
“Telling would never convince you, sir. Only visual proof can suffice.” Ву an
Oriental trick that few men in England have ever mastered — the retraction of the
tokens of his masculinity — he convinced the older man, just as he would have
convinced a physic
ieved and

"True it
but there

's office was in the home of

they make the best of а bad
"hat you can never please a woman nor b
. You can be a son to me and a companion
to my young and, I fear, flighty wife. So far she has lived honorably, but she is
pretty and young and I am old and Gb. Sooner or later she may slip into sin and
be seduced. With а male companion her own age, a safe companion, like you, my
son, her honor and mine will be safe. When I am out of town you must live right
here in the house, guarding her person and my honor as 1 shall guard your sad
secret, Agreed?”

"rhe secretary allowed himself to be persuaded and the old husband was
smiling at the innocent pleasure his young wife took in the
lad's company. If he left the city on business, he made his secretary sleep in the
house; if his wife decided to go on a pilgrimage to Canterbury or to visit her
relatives, he would sooner have let her go without her chambermaid than without
the obliging secretary.

As for the young people, they, as long as vigor and life lasted, enjoyed fortun
gifts and more than lived up to all that the lady's husband expected of them.

aL ease,
some and harmless

—Retold by J. A. Gato"

97

PLAYBOY

98

INVESTOR

resident dove forward with a pad.
He wrote, in bolder, somewhat Jess
feverish strokes this time:
No connection. Joke. Also do police
sirens, foghorns, and Chester Mor-
ris. Do you like to kid around, too?
Jerry.
“I'd get plenty sore," said the spe-
cialist, "but I'm gentle to patients, cruel
only to rel

Plimpton picked up only an eighth
of a point the following day, but the
specialist was grave and irritable. “The
worst,” he said. "I know she's holding
firm in the 90s, but I heard something
nasty from a gynecologist friend of mine.

He claims Plimpton may buy Tompkin
Rocker Fuels You get a Plimpton-
Tompkin merger and our friend will go

torch. All

ighi, there's some-
thing bothering me and I'm doing my
bit now." The specialist picked up the
phone and said, "Hello, Connie, look I
want to unload Plimpton. No, I'm not
crazy. I've got a patient whose temper
ture is on it and I've got to try to get it
down. Maybe ГП come back in when this
thing is resolved. All right,

"I never thought Га the day when
I'd let Plimpton soar and not soar with
it," said the specialist, his eyes wandering
off into a broom closet “But you're
her in the medical profession or you're
not.”

“I just want to say that I've never

seen anything quite like that in the
house,” said the resident. "And 1 want
to shake your hand and tell you that it

comes not just from me but from the
whole house.”

“There'll be none of that,” said the
specialist. “Let me sce now. Put a call
through to the company. I say do
thing if you've got а patient who's liable
to go up like a torch!”

This is a new sound in doctoring,”
said the resident, putting through a call
to Wyoming. The specialist grabbed it
away from him, smacked his lips a few
times and said, “I don't want any Board
of Directors. Get me the company phy-
sician. That you? Look, I want to stop
that Tompkin merger if I can, Гус
patient, nice lad, whose fever is
hooked up to Plimpton and this merger
is going to kick him way upstairs and
out of business. Yes, it's my first. Heard
of a clergyman whose pulse was tied up
10 the '51 Cardi fielding averages,
but 1 think that worked differently. I'm
vague on it You won't do a thing? 1
didn't think so, but I thought I'd give

at

t hung up and said, "He
much as opens his mouth,
it's socialized medicine. I'm not sure if

(continued from page 86)

he's right but I haven't got time to go
figuring it out. I'd better take a look
at our man.”

The specialist took the patient's pulse
and said, “I hope he and his wife don't
have any litle dividends. АП right. I
know. That's not funny. I always did tell
badd

A note in the patient's handw
was affixed to his pajama lapel. It said:

What kind of a soak are you putting
on me for this treatment? I forgot
to ask about the soak. If it’s steep,
somebody's going lo get it vight in
the old craw. 1 don’t sce any point
to being high class when you're do-
ing biz. Yours, Jerry.

“In our confusion we forgot to sul
а pa 1 bill," | the resident.

І don't want to talk dollars,” said
the specialist. "Practice medicine. Did.
you see me sell my Plimpton
Ive seen things I've never seen he-
е in this house.

1 just don’t want him going off like
a torch,” said the specialist.

Plimpton vaulted four points early the
next day on the strength of the Tompkin
merger speculation, but the rumor was
quashed carly in the afternoon and the
stock settled back with a two-point gain.
The patient’s wife appeared in the room
and said to the specialist, "Pm sorry 1
was [resh about what you did yesterday
I figure you're in there with unhealth
all day and you can't help what kind of
with your mouth when
you see a healthy set of things. I'll have
a beer with you if you like.”

“I'm trying to be a doctor," s
specialist.

"Maybe it was my fault," said the
woman. “Plenty of wives go to the burly
with their old men. Maybe he really did
go there for the comedians. 1 want the
old buzzard to get better.”

"He's good house,"
dent.

Trading was brisk the following day,
and the net result was fine for the market
but unfortunate, of course, for the pa-
tient. Ra utilities, industrials, all had
nice gains by early afternoon. Specif-
ically, Plimpton got right out in front
by noon, racing up to 10934, and then
the worst happened. At five in the after-
noon the specialist appeared in the hos-
pital and did not remove his coat. "E
don't feel up to exam
now," he said to the resident.

"I want to say something on behalf
of the whole house," said the resident.
“I know, | know," he said to the
sident. “You're very kind. But perhaps
if I'd sold just а day earlier. Or spread
а rumor about bad management in the
company. You don't think as clearly as
you should when you're in the middle

fo

4 the

па id the resi-

oe

of onc of these.”

“This house has been privileged te
see at work one of the finest . .."

"You're very kind," said the specialist
АШ right, I suppose we ought to call
his kin, the wife, and get her down here.”

"Once in a man's life," said the resi-
dent, "he's got to break some new
ground, to do something out of his
deepest heartfelt yearnings. Im going
back to Rochester with you, if I may

But the specialist's eyes were off some
where in the isotope ward. In 20 minutes,
the wife was there.

“He went at three this afternoon,” said
the specialist. “We did everything we
could, but you can't tamper with the
economy. It’s too powerful. It was some-
thing we couldn't anticipate. The stock
got up to 10534 and then split two for
one. He didn't have a chance. When he
dropped to the new price, 5274, we hot-
toweled him and he did rally a point or
two, but when the board closed for the
day it was ай over. Look, 1 know I should
hold back awhile, but I'm all keyed up
and Fm blurting this right out anyway.
You're a doll and have you ever been
to. Rochester?

"My mother said
bastardos, and we p:
Ше main one being

al doctors were
them in crops.
isparagus spears.
Are you sure you're not saying all of
this because of m'boobs?”
sensitive do aid the
specialist. staring off over her pompa
dour.

“I ought to collect up Jerry, but I'm
not collecting anyone who's always hur
out at the burly,” said the woman, taking
the specialists arm. “I hope you're not
а bastardo.”

‘Taking a bride is in the finest medi
cal trad said thc resident. “Г.
backing you both to the hilt and w
see to it that the house ta

With that the specialist flew our of
the hospital with the woman, pouncing
upon her once in the railroad sleepe
that whisked them northward and once
ain the same evening, minutes after
they arrived at his bachelor duplex in
the Rochester suburbs. He held his
pounces to two daily through their one-
week honcymoon, but on the eighth
day of their marriage, the specialist
found himself tearing home in mid-
afternoon to institute а third, between
hospital research and afternoon clinic
The couple then went to five, the doctor
ng up afternoon dinic completely.
It was only then he realized, at first in
panic and then with mounting satisfac
tion, that they were on a new issue
something called Electronic Lunch.
which had come on the big board almost
unnoticed but seemed to bc climi
swiftly thanks to recommendations from
two old-line investment. services.

MEDY OF EROS

€

happy you could make it."
"You know I wouldn't miss one of

y
Nothing really. 1 know she's still not

too happy about this rather immature
attachment Гус got for her. But she's
deathly afraid of saying anything and
hurting my feelings.”

“Well, you can't really blame her
After all, she is your mother .

But

Art, don't just stand there . . . come
inside and get sociable."
“You lead the way, June.”
ow then, Bill, please . . . please

continue where you left off before."
“June, what I was saying was that a

: feeling has come over you
‘ks and you can't

sort of stra

es... and you said it happens when
you're near me.”

“Exactly ... Oh June, what's
the sense in beating around the bush

any longer . . . What you've been tr
to tell me for the longest time now
оц love me.”
СТОЕШЕ
darling, you
thought you would.
“Bill, you have no idea how happy
Гус made you fee
“June... June...’
“Oh, my God, there's that damn door-
bell из... 1 won't be a minute,
dea

est.

"Hi, June, did I miss anything?"

“No, but most of the gang's already
вас... How have you been? . . . Oh,
say, Peter, you'll never guess whom I

n into on Fifth Avenue yesterday . . .

e, Z couldn't care less."
fool, Peter . . . She's а darn
good for you. A lot
better for you, I might add, than that
tramp Arnold .
“June, must we talk shop?"
No, I suppose not. Say hello to the
kids and mix yourself a drink.”
“Hello, Bill darling, I'm back.”
“If that doorbell rings once more,
Moo?

a ha ... easy, dearest .. . you'll
burst а blood vessel.”

"You know something, June? You love
me when I get angry."

“Do D"

"Yes, you like the way my checks flush
and the way I gnash my teeth . ~. You
think I'm just adorable that way.

“Vm so glad, Bi

“June, who would haye thought a year

(continued from page 51)

ago that a girl with such a strong trau-
ma brought on by severe sibling ri
could actually find security wi
and eight others?"

“And, dearest, I never dreamed that
a fellow who had transferred hi red
for his stepmother to all women could
ever really, truly love someone as you
love me.”
une .. . dear, dear, darling June
... ро you know what you'd like more
than anything else in the world right
now? For me to kiss you right here in
front of everyone in this room."

“Would I, Bill? How wonderful! But
first you'll have to make an official mar-
riage proposal.”

“Ha ha, you little pixie . . . АП right,
here I go down on my knee - . . Now,
how's this? . . . June, will I marry you?”

"Of course you will, darling . . . ОГ
course you will.

“Dear, I'm so happy that I just have
to tell everyone ... HEY, GANG, JUNE
AND І HAVE AN ANNOUNCEMENT
. WE'RE GETTING

MARRIED!"
“How perfectly marvelous!”
“Congratulations, kids!”
АП the luck in the world!”
„ we've known about it for
some time now. Bill, but we wanted to
surprise you two.”

“When's the big day, Bill?”

“Soon . . . Next week at City Hall.
then — even June doesn't know
this yet — then on Saturday we're leav-
ing for а two-week honeymoon in Ber
muda . . . Unless, of course, Saturday
isn’t convenient . . . Now how many of
you can't make it on Saturday? . . .
Raise уош hands . . . АП right, what
about а weck from Saturday? .. . Well
then, how about two weeks from . . ."

“Go roll your own!”

99

PLAYBOY

100

BUGATTI (continued from page 76)

lass in the Grand Prix du Mans and
Es second overall, just behind a mam-
moth 6-liter Fiat. The disparity in size
between the two cars made the victory
most impressive, and Bugatti was famous
from that day onward. His cars were to
win so many races, rallies, sprints, hill
climbs that no one now remembers them
in their thousands, but this was the first
one and it mattered the most.

(Fantastically, Bugattis are still win-
ning races, although the last of Le Pa-
пот own designs was built in 1959. OF
course, 20-year-old cars can't compete
with brandnew ones, but there are
many races for old cars today. For in-
nce, the famous circuit at Bridge-
hampton on Long Island schedules such
an event every year. There were seven
Bugattis entered in the last Bridgehamp-
ton, among many other makes contem-
porary with them. They completely
dominated the event, coming in first,
second, third and fourth. Indeed, when
the winning Bugatti, D. H. Mallalien
Type 51 Grand Prix car, came down the
straight, the very first turn around, there
was nothing else in sight behind it.

In July 1961, Mickey Thompson, who
has driven faster than anyone clse living
today, broke si al records in
а series of runs at March Air Force Base.
Onc of them was а mile record that had
stood for 31 years. It had been made by
a Bugatti.)

When the First World War broke out
n 1914 Bugatti had to leave Alsace, of
course. He designed a straight-eight air-
craft engine which was built in France
and in the United States, under license,
by Duesenberg. The Duesenberg engine,

heart of the most luxurious automobile
we have made, was clearly derivative
from this Bugatti design, Bugatti was in-
terested in airplanes, as he was in every-
thing that moved by mechanical means.
He built at least one airplane, and
Roland Garros, one of the great French
aces of World War I, was his close friend,
ndeed he named his second son for
Garros. Garros was a pioneer in develop-
ment of the machine-gun synchronizer
which allowed firing through the pro-
peller arc.

(Ihe first American soldier to die in
linc of duty in World War I was an air-
craft mechanic, part of a crew sent to
France to assay Bugatti's airplane engine.
The man stepped into the propeller
while the engine was running on a test
bed, hélas)

After the war had been won, Bugatti
went back to Molsheim and settled
диета of life extraordinary for an in-
rialist, indeed extraordinary for any-
one. Ettore Bugatti made a small world
for himself, and he lived at the peak and
center of it. It was a world of many parts
which he arranged to fit neatly together.
‘There was the factory, first. It was a
model factory. The cleanliness of the
place was startling. Bugatti bought soap
nd scouring powders and cleaning га
in such qu t his accountant
swore the firm was supplying every home
in Molshei

“It doesn’t would
say. “Things must be kept dean, very
Clea

He probably did come near to em-
ploying someone from every family in

"If we're attacked, Mrs. Jennings, there's room in my

pr

shelter for уои, but no other neighbors... !

Out of 3000 families he
at many of these individuals
by name. Indeed, for a long time hc
knew by name every man who worked
lor him, and thus could deliver com-
pliment or reprimand with proper force.
He was severe with people who mis-
treated tools. Every machine tool in the
place, vise, lathe, shaper, whatever, was
polished and engincturned, like the in-
side of a cigarette case, and Le Patron's
choler would spiral at the sight of a
hammer scar or file mark on one of them.

He toured the factory on a bicycle or
in an сксшс cart, both of his own
design and manufacture. The French,
among whom he lived, and the Italians,
among whom he was born, prided them-
selves on their production of the world’:
lightest and finest bicycles, but Bugati
thought them all heavy and graceless,
and so made his own. When he made his
morning tour of the establishment he
would often be in riding habit. His
stables were extensive, and he had a cov-
ered riding hall. (Lhe graceful lines of
the Bu; most beautiful
ever put on an automobile, arc thought
by some to derive from the horseshoe.)

He alone carried the master key that
opened all the doors of the factory, all
identical doors of brassbound varnished
oak.

There was one formal title оп Ше
Bugatti table of organization, and that
vas Bugatti's own. His subordinates had
no tides. One man was in charge of pu
chase, another was chief accountant,
another was head of the racing depart-
ment, and so on, but no one had a title.
М. Bugatti was chief and the rest were
little French Indians. Such a system will
work under one condition: the chief
must be able to command devotion by
reason of innate ty, [orce of
personality, not merely by the fact of his

being boss. This Ettore Bugatti could do.
‘The soaring range of the man’s imagina-
tion, his power of creativity, his sheer

drive were clearly evident.

The Bugatti chateau was a stone's
throw from the factory, and рем
these two places were the rest of the
units that made up the establishment:
the stables, the riding hall, the kennels
housing 30 or 40 fox terriers, the dove-
cots; the museum for the works in sculp-
ture of Rembrandt Bugatti, and the
museum hous horse-drawn
carriages; the distillery in which Bugatti
produced his own liqueurs, the power-
house in which his own electricity was
de. Farther away, but still definitely
a part of the establishment,
hotel, Le Hostellerie du Pur Sang, where
clients of the house would find food.
drink and lodging fit for the gentry, and
where one’s standing with Le Patron
could be gauged: some clients were
bills on departure, some were not, and
some bills were more than others.

Each of these buildings reflected M.

Bugatti's iron-hard view of the proper-
tics. The powcrhouse, for example . . .
Living as he did, Bugatti did not always
have a great deal of cash on hand. He
was not, alter all, Henry Ford. His life-
time production of automobiles was a
week's work for a Detroit assembly plant,
and not a big week's work, at that: 9500
cars. So his bills sometimes ran on. He
shared the attitude of the Edwardian
aristocrat: he considered reminder of in-
debtedness to be an affront. The Stras-
bourg utility company once made this
gaffe. Bugatti paid the bill and simulta-
neously drew up plans for a powerhouse
of his own. When it was completed,
beautiful in white tile, mechanically le
dernier cri in every way, he summoned
the representative of the Strasbourg com-
pany and gave him a conducted tour.
When he had finished he said, “So you
e, m'sieur, I shall no longer h:
need of your firm's services.
we must presume, he strode to the mas-
ter board and pulled the main switch.
Bugatti’s life was full of such gestures.
Indeed, his whole life was a gesture, a
sweeping, magnificent. gesture.

Even Bugatti's failures were notable.
In 1922 he produced a team of round-
bodied, tublike racing cars that were so
ugly they were unreal. The next year he
rolled out a team of motorcars notable
only because they were uglier than the
1922s: they were slab-sided, slope-topped
monstrosities of such short wheelbase
that the back of the engine protruded
into the cockpit, and of course they
would not handle, besides being revolt-
ing to look upon. But in 1924 came the
first of the Type 35s, then, and now, the
most beautiful racing automobiles ever
built, and, at least until the post-World
War П Alfa-Romeo and Ferrari machines
came along, the most successful.

The Type 35s made Bugatti and it
was of their time, and thc time im-
mediately following them that René
Dreyfus and others of the entourage
think when they talk of the golden
times. Every weekend during the season
the little blue cars would leave Mol-
sheim for а circuit in France or England
or Italy or Germany or Spain, where
they would probably win, Оп Monday
or Tuesday they would be back, dusty
and oilstained, and the mechanics
would tear them down and make them
as new again. Meanwhile, the drivers,
the aristocrats of the establishment,
could amuse themselves as they pleased,
eating well, drinking well in the com-
pany of pleasant people. Of course,
there were times when there was no
money, but in Molsheim one did not, if
one were а driver, need money in order
to live well, and if an imperative neces-
sity did come ир... René Dreyfus once

wrote, in the magazine Sports Cars
Mlustrated, “When I had not been p:
for a while, and needed money, it

would not occur to me to ask for it, and

of course it would be unthinkable to
approach M. Bugatti. И one were not
paid, it meant only one thing: there
wasn’t any money just then. So I would
go to see M. Pracht, the treasurer, and
we would have a bright little conversa-
tion, moving around the subject for a
while and then getting down to cases.
In the course of the next day or two T
would pick up a chassis, or two chassis,
and take them to Robert Benoist. a
former team-driver who had a Bugatti
agency in Paris. I would sell them to
Benoist and be in funds again.

“If М. Bugatti did not often reward
his employees with money, he had other
means. Like the head of any state, he
instituted a supreme decoration, a sort
of Bugatti Victoria Cross. This he con-
ferred rarely, and it was much coveted:
a wristwatch made by Mido to Bugatti's
own design. It was very thin, very ele-
and the case was formed in the
r horseshoe shape of the Bugatti
tor. When a driver had made a
notable win against heavy odds he might
be given a Bugatti wristwatch. Even a
customer might be given one, if he were
a notably good customer, say one who
had bought eight or nine cars and made
no complaint if some little thing went
wrong with a couple of them. One was
summoned to Le Patron's presence, per-
haps in his chateau on the grounds, and
there, with all due ceremony, the plush-
lined box would be presented. It was a
great honor, and no one would have con-
ceivably equated a watch from М. Bu
gatti’s own hands with mere money . . .

Dreyfus tells, too, of a typical Bugati
beau geste which arose when he built his
first automolrice, or rail car. He had
conceived this idea when he found he
had 23 huge 300-horsepower engines on
hand, and the Depression of 1999 just
getting under way. Why not make fast,
self-powered railway cars? Why not,
deed? Bugatti ordered a big shed built
оп the factory grounds and began to
draw up plans (the cars to have two
engines, or four, to have speeds up to
120 miles an hour, running on rubber-
mounted wheels, and stopped by cable
brakes; the chauffeur to sit, not in front,
incongruous among the passengers, but
in a little cupola on the roof, alone, un-
tracted, and with a proper view). But
when the first aulomotrice was finished,
it was evident that Le Patron had, as it

were, made an oversight. The railway
station was a mile distant, and there was
по track. Indeed, M. Bugatti Пай not

even had the automotrice built on
track. It had been built on the floor.
And it would by no means go through
the gate in the wall that solidly sur-
rounded the factory.

Bugatti was not disturbed, He spoke
to onc of his supervisors. "Knock down
the wall, if you please," ‚ "and
k 800 or 900 of the men if they would
be good enough to push the car down

to the station Гот me tomorrow night.”

It was done, the car riding on rollers
so that the flanged wheels would not de-
stroy the road, hundreds of men push-
ing, dozens carrying torches, the women
bringing the wine. The automotrices
were a great success. They really did run
120 miles an hour, their strange cable
brakes did stop them, and the records
they set — Strasbourg—Paris, Paris-Nice —
stood for years after World War Н. То
this day, the repair of automotrice en-
gines is important in Molsheim.

They were Type 41 engines, made for
the Royales, the kings’ coaches. When
the Depression came down on France,
Bugatti had built only seven Type 415,
his answer to the soft challenge of a
British dowager at dinner: "Ah, M.
Bugatti, everyone knows you build the
greatest racing cars in the world, the
best sports cars, But for a town-carri:
of real elegance, one must go to Rolls-
Royce or Daimler, isn't that so?”

He went from dinner to the draw:
board, the story goes, and laid dow
first line then and there: a huge auto
mobile, long as а London bus,
feet from windshield to radiator cap.
the engine running in nine individually
water-cooled bearings, all working parts
machined to zero tolerance, plus or minus
nothing. Daimler, indeed!

Even at a ferocious $20,000 without a
body, the Type 41 was in а seller's mar-
ket, until the Depression broke, and
certainly two or three of the most spec-
tacular motorcars ever set on the road
were 415. There was a two-seater road-
ster, for example, a thing to dwarf every
other roadster ever built. Bugatti him-
self used a coupe de ville, or coupe Na-
poleon, a tiny cabin for two, an open
cockpit for chauffeur and footm: па
all that engine out in front. He had as
well a berliner de voyage, or double ber-
line, looking something like two medi-
eval coaches put together; there was а
convertible with German coachwork, a
straight limousine, a sedan, a touring
car... there are four 415 in the United
States today. The most accessible is the
convertible given to the Ford Museum in
Dearborn by Charles Chayne of General
Motors. Jt is onc of th table attrac-

tions of the Detroit environs.
The Type 46 was a smaller version of

big coupe, but for that usage I
think the Type 50, which has a de-
tuned racing engine, double overhead
cam, supercharged, and producing more
than 200 horsepower, is to be preferred.
A listing and description of ай 60-odd
Bugatti models is not for this place, but
the most interesting, aside the
Royale and the children’s racing car he
built first for his son Roland and then
in limited series for the get of the very
rich, are Grand Prix cars, the ious
35s, the intermediate 51. the Type 59.
а 170-mph car with which Bugatti at-

from

101

PLAYBOY

102

tempted singlehanded to stem the tide
of the Nazi-backed German race cars of
the late 1930s and the 185-mph 4.7-liter;
the “Bresci: ind “Brescia Modifie" cars
of the early 1920s; among the passenger
cars, the Types 40, 43, 44 (considered
by J. Lemon Burton, an eminent British
Bugattiste, to be one of the best of all),
50, 55, 57, 57C, 575, 57SC.

Wide variation exists even in this
truncated catalog. The 44 is supposed to
have come about because Mme. Bugatti
taxed her husband with the noisiness
and harsh springing of his sports models.
Accordingly he designed the 44 as a
lady's саг. A good one will do 80 miles
an hour, it's reasonably quiet, starts eas-
ily, is pleasant to shift, and has the soft-
est clutch 1, at least, have ever laid foot
to. The 43, on the other hand, is a de-
tuned version of the racing 35B given,
usually, an open fourseater body. It's a
harsh, brutal, fast automobile. The 55
was race-bred, too, a Grand Prix Type
51 en а Туре 54 chassis, while
1 thc 575 were smooth passenger cars
of varying speed capabilities up to 130
miles an. hour, rare today, fantastic in
the 1930s. Bugatti made something for
everyone — almost. Some authorities have
held that he should have put out a
four-cylinder, double overhead camshaft,
supercharged passenger model. То dem-
onstrate the worth of this thesis, C. W. P.
Hampton, previously mentioned, spent
an unmentionable sum in pounds ste:
ling to crcate such a car, putting together
a Туре 40А engine, a Type 55 body with
various bits from 37, 39, 49, 51 and 57
models. The result was а pretty little
coupe, living in Detroit the last 1 heard
of it.

Most members of the internatio:
Bugatti Owners Club, the oldest and big.
gest club of its kind in the world — there.
are more than 1000 members — would
take а fairly distant view of this kind of
cobbling if it were committed by just
anyone, but Hampton's devotion to
the make goes back very far, and he is
an authority of eminence, learned in
Bugatti lore. This is not an easy posi-
tion to achieve, for the history of the
Bugatti is much more extensive than that
of most other automobiles, many tens
of thousands of words have been pub-
lished about it in many languages, and
even the basic text, The Bugatti Воой,
runs to 375 pages. The Bugatti Owners
Club has been publishing a magazine
treating of Bugatti matters for nearly a
quarter of a century.

The BOC itself is unique if for no
other reason than Из possession of a 17th
Century manor house аз headquarters
This is Prescott, near Cheltenham in
Gloucestershire, 90 miles from London.
The house is a big one, built of Cots-
wold stone. It was, until 1871, the seat of
the Earl of Ellenborough. The driveway
leading up from the public road is more
than 1000 yards long and has been made

nto one of the most famous hill-climb
courses in the world. In 1949 a wrought-
iron gate was installed in the garden
wall at Prescott as a memorial to Ettore
Bugatti and his son Jean. Jean, who
showed signs of great brilliance as a de-
signer, died in 1939, at 27, in avoiding
a drunken postman who had come, on
a bicycle, onto the Molsheim circuit.
Bugatti came around a corner at high
speed and elected to go off the road
rather than hit the man. Ettore Bugatti
died, in 1947, at the end of a victorious
struggle to retain control of the factory
in the upheaval of postwar France. Be-
cause he was still an Italian citizen dur-
ing World War П, he had been able to
bluff the German occupying authoritics
to а certain extent, but still he was
technically an enemy alien when peace
came. And there had been, even before
the war, grave labor difficulties at Mol-
sheim. During the war the Germans
made torpedoes in the factory. The Cana-
dians seized it from the Germans and
burnt much of it i accidental fire.
The Americans took it over, hid away
chine tools and equipment
before the Battle of the Bulge — and lost
the papers. Pierre Marco, one of Ettore
Bugattis oldest collaborators, traveled
tens of thousands of miles through
France, much of it in a creaking, charcoal-
burning automobile, searching lor the
-monogrammed Bugatti tools. He
found most of them, too, took them back
to Molsheim, rounded up many of the
old workers, and put the factory back to
work. At first he did anything. He would
make stove lids if the price was right.
Ultimately a few cars were produced,
Type 1015, which were not really new,
and a racing car, Ше Type 251, agai
not really new, in 1955 and а competi
tive failure. Today the factory is flow
ishing. making industrial and marine
engines and so on, but no automobiles.
Roland Bugatti survives, his sisters sur-
vive, the second Mme. Bugatti survives,
but without Ettore Bugatti, nothing
marches as before.

He was a man of parts. He was marked
in many ways, by his determination to
live like a duke, his belief that а me-
chanical device should be artistically
bcautiful as well as technically correct —
he wouldn't employ a draftsman who
couldn't draw in perspective,
round — by his ability to project himself
20 years ahead of his time. He was im-
perious, stubborn, supremely crea
he died holding hundreds of patents
covering such things as razors. fishing
reels, sail rigs, Venetian blinds —and
fallible. Some details on his cars were
outrageously impractical, Bugatti water
pumps, for example, are hard to lubri-
cate and keep in service, and some, in-
deed most of his engines are so complex
that сусп experienced Bugatti mechanics
must quote figures like $1500 аз over-
haul cost.

But, taken all in all, good with bad.
his cars have magic. This is mot to say
that there is nothing as good as a
Bugatti on Ше world market today.
That’s nonsense. There are dozens of
cars as good as a Bugatti, and better, cars
faster, more roadworthy, more reliable,
cheaper, more comfortable, and so on
down a long list. But they are not the
same. There is an indefinable, impal-
pable quality of life in a good Bugatti
that does not exist in lesser machines.
Of course, much of the сһапп of the
Bugatti automobile lies in the aura of
splendor that lay around its creation:
Le Patron stalking the factory corridors
in pongee and yellow corduroy, a brown
bowler on cad and а Malacca stick
in his hand; a champagne gala at the
chateau; the little blue cars screaming
across a finish line in one-two-threc
order, Benoist flying down a country
road away [rom the pursuing Nazis in a
Type 57, a reigning beauty of the Paris
stage posing beside her Type 46 at a
Deauville concours d'élégance . . .

Within the week just past as I м
this, 1 have driven, and for some little
ance, two great contemporary high
performance automobiles: a 3500 gram
turismo Maserati coupe, $13,500 worth
of Italian mácchina, and a Bentley Con-
tinental "Flying Spur," at just under
27,000 one of the most expensive mo.
torcars ever built, and at the moment
the fastest luxury car, or the most lux-
fast car in the world. Гус also
on a Type 50 Bugatti a hundred
miles or so. The Maserati will run away
and hide from the Bugatti, and thc
Bentley makes it sound like a cement
mixer in full cry. Maserati and Bentley
performances peak, like a needle on an
instrument, and that is that. The Bugatti
never seems to peak. There's nothing
imperturbable about a Bugatti, it may
exceed every expectation, or it may
explicably goof oH, but whatever it
does, the impression that more is pos-
sible, more is available, remains with
the driver. The car seems to be willing
to try, and try again, and keep on try-
ing forever.

This may be the essence of the qual-
ity that Ettore Bugatti tried to put
his cars. Thoroughbred — pur sang —
was а phrase he liked. He believed that
cars had breeding. He said, and it
was truc, that from 1909 to 1939 no
driver was Killed or even seriously in-
jured through material failure of a
Bugatti automobile. Perhaps this was
because he knew how to design an auto-
mobile to endure great stress, or because
he used only the best materials оп Ше
market — special Sheffield steel, Гог ex-
ample— but Bugatti did not think so.
He thought it was an indefinable thin,
really breeding. He may have been
tight. Who is to say he was now?

to

POUR

CER

5

"Tie is a broad ribbon of highway that begins in the heart of Savannah,
Georgia and winds for 3000 miles to its terminus in exciting Los Angeles.
This ribbon is mighty Route 80—the most travelled all-weather highway in
the U.S. Millions of Americans have followed it їо the West, coursing throu;
the rich hills of Georgia and Alabama, passing through the heart of Missis-
sippi and Louisiana and entering into the plains of Texas. Gradually the
scenery begins to change. Texas begins to roll; distant hills become higher.
Then suddenly one emerges into “The Land of Enchantment.” New Mexico's
wonders erupt in a blaze of color and majesty. The mighty mountains thrust
themselves, tree-topped, into the unimaginable blue of the sky. Dust and
smoke have vanished from the air and the lungs drink in great delicious
draughts in heady delight. If it is wintertime snow may cap the lofty moun-
tains. If it is spring or summer or fall the unspoiled air touches the skin
softly and the feeling of well-being is nowhere else equalled. But winter or
summer, it is almost certain the sur will be shining in New Mexico—the
sunniest, healthiest state of all 50. Yet great 80 is just beginning to take
you through the sunshine wonderland of America. In the tropical south-
western pocket of our country you glide through towns like Las Cruces and
Deming. A short while westward and you are in Tucson and Phoenix, Arizona,
and from there the West Coast beckons. But nowhere in this enchanting
Southwest is there a more beautiful area than the mountain-rimmed, pure-
aired New Mexico region of Las Cruces and Deming.

To live апумће! New Mexico is to live better. The superb climate,
naturally air-conditioned in the summer and brilliantly sunny in the winter

the breathtaking beauty of a lavish Nature—the young vigor of a state that
is causing an unprecedented business and investment boom—the record
which shows that one fives longer, that health improvement is almost
miraculous—these are the reasons that tens of thousands of Americans
already have come here to live, and hundreds of thousands of others will
be following in the immediate years ahead.

Consider then: Here in the center of this miraculous climate and beauly
are towns which have grown amazingly in the last 10 years. Las Cruces, for
example: In 1950 it had 12,000 people. By 1960, 37,000 . .a rise of 300%
in 10 years! (How about your town? Has it grown 3 limes its size in 10 years?)
Like Tucson and Phoenix, this area is a beautiful semi-tropical paradise
where palm trees and long staple cottonfields flower the landscape.
Statistics show the same 85% of possible sunshine, summer and winte
these same figures reveal even purer, drier air than in Phoenix or Tucson.

A few minutes from the flavorful town of Deming (population 8,000) is a
5,000 acre Ranch, picture-framed by the breathtaking Florida Mountains. So
real, so beautiful, so typically the romance of the Southwest is this valley
Ranch that it has been photographed for the covers of many magazines
including the official publication of the State of New Mexico. What better
way to describe Southwestern flavor than to tell you that when the
producers of the movie THE TALL TEXAN sought an authentic locate for their
picture, they chose the very land we are now sub-dividing into the DEMING
RANCHETTES. THE TALL TEXAN was filmed on our ranch, the same place
where you may have a Ranchette of your very own!

This is the lovely basin of land where heavy equipment is now at work
constructing wide roads facing every DEMING КАМСНЕТТЕ, Every Ranchette
will have direct access to avenues leading to three major highways sur-
rounding our property—U.S. Highways 80, 70 and State Highway 11.

DEMING, NEW MEXICO
A RANCHETTE OF YOUR OWN

In The Healthiest, Sunniest Climate

55 pown 35 PER MONTH

DEMING RANCHETTES is blessed with water which is called “America’s
finest drinking water, 99.99% pure." (Almost every shop in Deming displays
this proud claim in its window.) Home building has already begun i
DEMING RANCHETTES and electric lines and telephone connections await
you. Schools, hospitals, churches, shops, theaters, golf course, tennis courts
“these are close by in the charming growing city of Deming. Fertile soil is
yours for the planting, and wait until you see the stunning landscape of
cotton fields in bloom. Fruit trees... apple, peach, pear and plum... do
по! grow better anywhere.

And the price of your Ranchette? Just $199 complete for а half-acre, $5
down and $5 monthly. That's the complete price—no extras, no interest, no
taxes! At this moment you may reserve as many half-acre sites as you wish
but please bear this in mind: DEMING RANCHETTES is not an enormous
development and land such as this goes fast. At these prices you may want
your Ranchette to be larger—one, two—even five acres. An immediate
deposit will guarantee that your half-acres will adjoin each other (this may
not be so in the near future) And you take no risk in sending your
deposit. Your $5 per half-acre-will definitely reserve your land but does not
obligate you. You have the unqualified right to chenge your mind 30 days
after we send you your Purchaser's Agreement, Property Owner's КИ, Maps
and Photographs—30 full days to go through the portfolio, check our
references, talk it over with the family. If, during that time, you should
indeed change your mind your reservation deposit will be instantly
refunded. (Deming and Albuquerque Bank references.)

Ten years ago, in nearby Las Cruces, 2 comparable fertile half-acre such
as we offer in DEMING RANCHETTES could have been bought for $199. Today
it's up to $2000! Experienced realtors predict the same future for Deming—
та much shorter tim this makes sense to you your next act is mailing
the coupon below. And one more thing: we promise that no salesman will
annoy you. Thanks, sincerely, for your attention.

DEMING RANCHETTES DEPT. 1-54
112 West Pine Street, Deming, New Mexico
Gentlemen: ! wish to reserve the following site in Deming Ranchettes:
J ¥2 acre for $199. 1 enclose $5 as a deposit.

D 1 acre for $395. | enclose $10 as a deposit.

CJ 134 acres for $590. | enclose $15 as a deposit.

© 23A acres for $975. | enclose $25 as a deposit.

[5 acres for $1925. | enclose $50 as a deposit.

Please rush complete details, including my Purchaser's Agreement,
Property Owner's Kit, Maps, Photographs and all data. It is strictly
understood that | may change my mind within 30 days for any reason
and that my deposit will be fully and instantly refunded if | do.

ZONE SIRE

103

PLAYBOY

104

ANTHONY FROM AFAR

ping this nut. He had the hots for me
and he wouldn't quit. Then I got in a
jam. Financial reverses. All my finances
went into reverse. I'd done a couple
ТУ things, you know, musicals, and for
а while there I was going pretty good,
but then my agent couldn't line up
anything for me for the longest time and
before I knew it I was broke and behind
п the rent and the landlord was serv-
ing me with eviction notices. One way
or another Anthony snooped around,
king to some of the younger fellows in
ny agency I suppose, and he found out
bout the spot ] was in. So he came lop-
ng around and he says to me, he's mov-
ing into a big house up in Laurcl
Canyon with a friend of his, and h
apartment. off Miller Drive is paid up
for three months, so why didn't I just
take over this apartment and live there
rent free till things straightened out for
me? I didn't have penny one, І couldn't
turn down an offer like that. Only the
understanding was, | was going to be
living there off Miller Drive and he was
going to he living up in Laurel Canyon.
He had different ideas. After 1 moved
up there he was calling all the time,
to see me, and a couple of
1 lct him come up, just to have a quick
drink, you know, just to be nice to him
for the loan of the apartment. The sec-
ond week comes the kicker. This night
he shows up with his suitcases and says
he's sorry but his friend's parents and
kid sister have just come out from Phil-
adelphia and there's no room for him
n the Laurel Canyon house any more, so
he has to move back into his apartment.
It was all part of a plan, I smelled it
right away. I told him I'd moved up here
on the assumption that the place was
mine for three months and I had no
place else to go but ] most certainly
was not going to share my bed and board
with him so he had to make other
arrangements. That was when he began
ck me. He really gave me some
hits. 1 got knocked around fine. But he
didn’t get what he was after. Or maybe
bashing me around was all he was after.
1 hear there are men who get their kicks
- Well, the end of it was, the
neighbors heard the screams and racket
and called the fuzz. I told the officers my
story and they put Anthony in a cell over
night and in the morning let him go on
the promise he wouldn't come near the
apartment as long as I was occupying
it. Thats all the buddy-buddy Anthony
‘Trilling and I ever were, and that's how
come J was living at his place for a
little over а month. It may sound like
а hot affair to some people but to me
Us a gang of assault and battery and
that’s all.”

“It sounds like this fellow's love life
is one long Hit Parade.” I could think
of no more sensible comment to make.

(continued from page 62)

"Do you mind if 1 ask you one more
thing? Wasn’t there some business about
$200 worth of cosmetics that were
charged at Schwab's?”

Her full lips smiled a frosty Nor-

You bet there was," she said. "Here's
the inside wire on that. When this nut
was giving me the going-over he smacked
me across the mouth and cracked off my
front tooth, this one here, right at the
gum line. I couldn't very well go around
g producers and casting directors
with a big black hole in my mouth so
1 1 to borrow 8200 to get this broken
tooth. capped. Knowing Г could never
get a cent of this money back from dear
Anthony 1 did the only thing I could
think of to make him pay, I knew he
ad a charge account at Schwab's so I
went down there and got all these cos-
metic and things and one of the sales
girls, а girl I'm pretty friendly with, she
and I go to the same gym, she agreed to
put it on this nut’s account. He was out
200, exactly the amount I was out,
even Stephen.

I was not sure Г wanted to pursue this
story any further but there was no easy
way to back ой.

“About three or four weeks ago, оп
Sunset Strip,” I said, “I saw him slap-
ping you. Was that over the things you
charged?”

"Sure. I ran into him on the street
and he threatened to get the fuzz after
me for fraud or something. told him,
fine, Тес him do that and J would get the
fuzz on him for beating me up and cost
ing me that money to get my tooth
capped, and I assured him I could make
more trouble for him than him for me
because he was already locked up once
Tor hitting me."

"There's only one thing I don't under-
stand,” J said. “A couple of weeks ago
Anthony told you and he had made
up and were back together. What was
in his mind, to tell me a thing like that?"

She snorted through that lovely Nor-
wegian nose.

“I can tell you exactly what was in
that garbage рай he calls h
This was a couple of weeks ago? Well,
just about two weeks ago there was a
g on my doorbell and when I went to
answer it who was standing there, big as
life and twice as sassy, but old fricnd
Anthony. I told him if he came near
me I would call the cops but he pushed
his way in anyhow. He had to talk to me,
he said. He couldn't sleep. he couldn't
eat, he was going out of his mind think-
ing about me and brooding about how
things could have been different be-
tween us. E told him I had no objection
to his brooding over me so long as he
got lost while he was doing it. He had to
chance, he
- How could he

have another

се, I said, when he never had
ghost of а one in the first place? That
was when he fell down on his hands
and knees and began to eat the carpet,
practically. You won't believe this, but
this big he-man, this Mr. Muscles, was
rubbing his cute little nose into the
pet and sobbing like a baby with
colic and telling me through his fat tears
that he would do anything, even let
me keep the cosmetics from Schwab's
and in addition get up the $200 for my
tooth, he'd do id more, he'd
e a vow on his mother's grave never
and on me again, cross his
та hope to die, if only I would
move back into his place and be his
little tootsie. І told him that before I
would live in the same house or even
on the same block with him Га have to
be a quadruple amputee and have the
world’s worst case of gingi
What do you think he says at this di
matic high point in our lives? He doesn
pick himself up from the floor and make
lor elsewhere like any self-respecting
man. No, not him. He begins to weep
and moan some more and says that 1
don't have to give him my answer right
away, he wants me to take my time and
think it over, give it some careful thought
because this could mean a lot to both
of us, our whole lives were at stake, and
with this he begins to kiss my shoes and
send up а real holler about how lonely.
he was, how genuinely and sincerely
lonely, these I believe were his exact
words. Well, it must have been right
after this soap-opera bit that he told
you we were kissing and making up.
You see? Somehow he got things so
twisted in that twisted excuse for a head
that he really thought I would con;
his proposal. Yes, by the way, there was
a proposal. too. He offered, if 1 wanted
it that way, to marry me. That was when
I said those things about quadruple
amputees and gingivitis. I guess he really
magined I would come back to him,
though I'd never been anywhere in the
ity to begin with. He must have,
because he told several people we were
going to be back together. Together! I
wouldn't take togetherness with him in
the Forest Lawn Cemetery. | told him
that, too, and all he said was, don't
make any hasty decisions, don't say any-
thing you'll regret, think it over. In
between the sobs about being genuinely
and sincerely lonely, this was the essence
of his blow-top remarks. I want you to
understand me, Mr. Munters. 1 want this
to be very clear. Even if he wasn't the
nut of the world 1 wouldn't waste one
minute on him because all my experi-

ch

the

ence tells me that it takes a man up to
his 40th birthday at least to get hi
diapers off. I want you to appre
и

ate ту
Aking on this, in case 1 haven't estab-
ished it. Docs that answer your ques-
tion?'

“It does,” I said. "I consider it a very

“That will cost her points!”

PLAYBOY

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THEMEW -
MARILYN MONROE

Back with Di Maggio again, away
from parties and night life, and
relaxing in front ofa TV set,
Marilyn Monroe returns to the old
life. Is MM any less volatile or is
this merely another stage in a
never-ending emotional cycle?
Yov'll find out in.

SHOW BUSINESS ILLUSTRATED. On sale
at your newsdealers January 24—
February 6.

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full and rich answer. It may keep me

from sleeping for a weck, it was so rich

and full.

“Well. Mr. Munter she said, "you
wanted to talk about Anthony Trilling.
You can't talk about garbage without
bringing up its smell.”

"Something just occurred to me," I
said. “When you go to sleep do you put
your thumb in your mouth and rock
yourself back and forth?”

“No. I have a simpler techniqu
just close my eyes and go. But I can
think of somebody who does those
things.”

Nho?”

“Anthony Trilling.”
“How would you know tha
“One afternoon 1 сате back to the

apartment in the hills from some inter-

views and found Anthony strctched out
on the Jounging chair in the patio. Hc
had his thumb in his mouth and he was
rocking back and forth. I wasn't just
saying that about preferring mature
men, Mr. Munters. Its a big thing with

me, to avoid the thumb-suckers. Maybe

w

can go into it another time.’

"Your teeth are lovely,” I said, “in
cluding the capped one. It's been a
pleasure talking to you and I'd like to
hear your theories about maturity levels
sometime. I think right now I'll go back
to my hotel and lie down.”

The following week disaster struck.
Struck, then ricocheted.

Gordon Rengs was in a bad way just
then, finding it hard work to fill in the
hours. He didn't h ing proj-
ects of his own to busy himself with,
since he'd just spent two months on top
of a mountain in Big Sur finishing a long
novel and so was for the moment
drained and without a thought in his
head; worse yet, with the writers’ strike
still on he couldn't get any script work
in this town, there was по money to be
made; and he was too busted to clear
out.

We had а routine. I would pick him
up in the morning on my way to the
studio and then he would take the car
and hcad for the beach at Santa Monica
to get the sun and count up the blank
spaces in his head. Toward the end of
the afternoon he would come back to the
studio and wait until I was through
work, and we would drive home together.
When he showed up on this black
тетооп I was in my dressing room
waiting to be called for the shooting of
one last scene. We chatted about this and
that. I w g some reeds that I in-
tended to make a floral basket with.

“You should always wear an 11th Cen-
he said, “You look

ve any wr

so;

tury monk's cowl,
gorgeous."

“IE I were sure of that," I said, “та
hie me this very day to the nearest nun-
nery.”

There was a

nce. I fingered the

round bald spot оп my monk's wig. It
felt like cellophane.

“I was at Muscle Beach this morning,’
he said. "I didn't stay long.”

“Oh? Why was that?”

“There was a weightlifter there who
must have been at least 65. He was doing
handstands and pushups. I had the im-
pression that from the time he was able
to walk he had been spending all his
waking hours doing handstands and
pushups. It depresses me to see the
means become the end.

Muscles seful. With them you
can build more muscles.”

More silence.

Hollywood does some peculiar to.
New Yorkers, they run out of things to
say to cach other and there arc long
gaps in their conversations. When they
are together they look like people in a
mesn coma who rouse themselves
from time to time to say something fit-
ful and rather absent-minded to cach.
other and then slump back into thei
comas again. In New York we get
together night after night and never be
at а loss for things to babble about but
out here we falter, our eyes get glazed and
we begin to avoid looking at cach other,
1 don't know why that is; but onc thing
to consider is the fact that in this р
everybody talks about movies and when
you look upon yourself as а nonmovie
person, an outsider to the movie world,
you have nothing to say about movies
except that they are good or bad or
long or short; but neither can you turn
your thoughts to other matters of рег
haps weightier import because mov
are the preoccupation of this monolithic
town and other matters seem somehow
unr and beside the point here. In

ny case, we occasional visitors sit lor
long periods with cach other and try to
keep our eyes from meeting.

“Speaking of muscle," Gordon said at
last, “there's this business with that
young fellow you know. I hope the party.
goes off well."

Party? Young fellow?”
nthony, what's his name, ‘Trilling.
‘The one who’ ging the birthday
arty for you
Muscle Beach must have lelt you
mentally disturbed. 1 don't know about
nybody giving thday or any other
ind of party for me.”

Anthony is. Didn't he call you? He
said he was going to.
с: Maybe
h me here but I've given
them instructions that I don't want any
phone calls put through while I'm on
the set, it interferes with my basket
weaving. Why would Anthony be giving
me a party?”
ley, 1 don't want to be a spoil-
sport, 1 hate to have to draw your atten-
tion to this, but the dismal fact is that
you've got a birthday coming up next
Tuesday and Anthony Trilling has his

re

hot little heart set on celebrating the
event.”

"| don't let my wife give parties for
my birthdays,” I said. I fingered the bald
spot again, it felt like chamois now, wet
chamois. “Why should 1 let а young
squirt like Trilling do something I for
hid my own wife? How the hell did he
find out about my vital statistics, any-
how?

"He's an admirer of yours, Farley. Не
went to the library to bone up on the de-
tails of your illustrious саге n Who's
Who and he сате across the date of your
birth, it was as simple as that. I ran into
him yesterday at the beach, it clean
slipped my mind. ГА parked the car at
the Santa Monica Pier and as E was walk-

there was Trilling stand
on the parallel bı
name. You should see his muscles, he
looks like a skinful of mushmelons, he's
obviously a weightlifter from way back,
it seems that he comes to the beach every
free day he has to work out. He told me
he'd found out you had a birthday com-
ing up and he thought it would be real
nice, you betcha, to throw a party for
you and make you feel less lonely їп
home from home. You
betcha.”

'Call it off. Gordon. Scotch this thing
before it becomes a monster. I don't pro-
pose to spend a whole evening basking
in the terrible glare of Trilling's smile.
You can get radiation poisoning from a
dazzler like that."

Gordon looked surprised. “I thought
he was a friend of yours, that's the only
reason T agreed to the idea. You and he
always have your heads together."

“Аз а novelist vou should have a more
acute сус. What happens when our heads
are bro wether is that Ле is always
talking and / am making a concentrated
«ог. not to listen, I've

you away

become an ex-

pert at it, I've learned how not to listen
to him for 20 minutes at a time.” I
groaned. “You agreed to have this party

“Fm afraid D did, Farley. I thought
you and the beamish boy were, as he
puts it, old buddies. You should have
ped me off."

“I don't listen to him and I don't
talk about him. Some crosses you bear in
stony silence, as а matter of human d
nity.” I locked into the mirror and de-
cided that Gordon was, оп Ше whole,
more right than wrong. I did look almost
lordly in these robes, "Where is this
ala to be?”

“At my place. Trilling said he would
be glad to throw the party in his apart
ment but it’s a small place and he w
to invite a lot of people. He asked if I

nts

had a big apartment and when 1 id it
was big enough he suggested 1 be the
host while he made all the arrange-

ments and 1 couldn't see why not. My
place, Tuesday, eight o'clock, don't dress,
loincloth and tortoiseshell glasses will

do, and I'm afraid there's no way out
of it The lad said he was getting to
work on the phone right He's
probably invited half the population of
Hollywood by now

“Tuesday. Tuesday.” Something about
the time bothered me. Then I thought
what it was. I clapped both my palms to
my fringe of ratty monk's hair. "Are you
sure my birthday's Tuesday?

“That’s it. I checked. There are some
things that are out of our hands, Far-
ley"
“It can't be Tuesday.” 1 groaned
gain. "Don't vou read the trades? No,
I guess you don't any more than 1 do.
But at least I keep my ear reasonably
Close to the ground and Т know what

Tuesday is, it's Academy Aw:
the saints preserve us. Hey. Ho. Fetch
me ту smelling salts

“Is that righ?” He blinked at me
“Well. yes. D guess you're right, I re
member hearing talk about it. Still,

what difference does that make? You
never go to the Awards. You didn’t even
go the two times you were up for an
Oscar yourself.”

шті. 1 don't
belong to the Academy." Gordon knew
my thoughts on that subject. T have a
very strong conviction that acting is, or
should be. а nine-to-five or cight-to-I1
job, and that when an actor walks off
the set or the stage at closing time he
should put all this nonsensical grimac-
ing he does for a living behind him and
uy to look like one more unspectacular
citizen, devoting
showy activities such as basket weaving
For this reason I do not go to union
meetings and I belong to none of the
extracurricular movements that my fel
low craltsmen are forever locking to so
that when the days work is done they
talking said work
the we the night. I
ictor should feel

vo. І don't even

course.

his attention to un-

can go on about
through
think, in short, that an
enough embarrassment about the bulky
wiges he is paid for making faces that
he would want to lose himself in the
crowd when he gets off stage. “Gordon,
you know what’s going to happen that
night. In this town all the people who
can't go to the Awards їп person
glued to their television sets watching
them. We'll have to sit with a bunch of
idiots whose horizons are all marquees
and watch for two solid hows while ac-
tors pat each other on the back and make
carefully rehearsed choked-up speeches.
Two solid hours. For my birthday they
give me the Chinese water torture. Mine
host, it will be the agony of the decade.’
“Don't worry,” Gordon said. “There'll
e lots of pretty to ease the pain.
"Pretty irls? From where
"From the four points of the compass,
compliments of beamish Anthony. He's
inviting all the girls in town."

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81

107

PLAYBOY

108

Anthony. I found him at his usual table
at Cyrano's, alone as usual, unruffled as
usual. I swallowed my distaste and joined
him. The doubled intensity of his beam
told me he was tickled to death and
proud as a penguin

About th ty," I began
ПП be a brawl," he said. "T
to call vou at the studio to tell you about
t. but they said you weren't accepting
пу calls. You can leave the whole thing
in my hands, it'll be а bash.

Its а nice gesture," I said, "and 1
want you to know Im touched, but don't
k you ought to have some help
the arrangements People like
ordon Rengs and Tony Reach could be
very helpful in drawing up the guest
list. for instance. Tony especially.”
specifically told Gordon that Га
make up my own guest list and do all
the inviting. Farley, Гуе got me a guest
list that'll make you . Most of them
are already invited. ICI be a gas.”

“Just which people are you inviting?”

"Leave the details to me, Farley. Let
me worry about it, old buddy. I'll just
tell you this, there are going to be
fellows, all your best friends around
town, and 30 girls, two for each guy.
Thats the perfect proportions for a
party if you ask me, let each stud know
he’s got two gals in the room who arc
for him alone and he'll feel rich. This
party will make Hollywood history”
Tell пи 1, "who are these 30
girls?
"m inviting the finest stuff around,
all the те; i just the ones I
know personally, ones Гус gotten a taste
of myself and can vouch for. WI be the
gassiest collection of Hollywood swingers
ever put together under one roof.

“И you run short of names or if some
of your people can't come I'm sure
Gordon and Tony would be happy to
make some suggestions. They might call
up a few of their friends.”

"Run short? Are you putting me on?
Listen, Farley, news is already getting
around about this party and some of the
aging chicks have been calling me,
trying to get invited. There'll be plenty
of stuff to go around, don't you worry.
Two and maybe three times around.
Fach stud is going to have all the stuff
he сап handle and then some.”

Well. I d. "I'd feel better if you'd
let my friends help out. I hate to think
of you doing the whole thing yourself."
That's the way I want it, Farley.
‘This is from me to you, and it’s an honor
to be able 10 do it" He regarded me
with switchblades of slyness opening in
his eyes. “You'll never guess who one of
the g g for у
For me?" I wished I had my monk's
cowl on to put more conviction in my
next lines. “You don't scem to under-
stand my position, Anthony. I'm a mar-
ried man."

1 know that,

I

15 is I'm get

But what the

heck, you're $000 miles away from your
family and you're working damn hard all
week and a sensitive man like you, I
know it, he’s got to relax and live a
little.

“Anthony, forget about getting any-
body for me, Invite anybody you want
but don't tell any of the girls they're for
me. There are too many grapevines be-
tween here and New York and I don't
want any word about wild parties for me
getting back to my family, I've reached
the age where J value my peace and my
quiet hours by our Kew Gardens fire-
side.”

“It’s too late,” he said with a
crowing triumph. "She's already
For you. specifically.”

"Who's invited?"

"Nora." His mouth bubbled with
gaiety as it formed the magical syllables.

1 stared. “Хогуа Hamecl?

"Right."

L stared some more. "Anthony, have
you taken leave of your senses entirel

He patted me on the arm. “No,
seriously. Farley, | thought this over
from all angles. I asked myself, what
kind of a girl would be just right for
my friend Farley, who would he really
ppreciate, who would knock him out,
And the answer each time
се, she's not my dish, we're
not for each other, but she’s got a lot
of real fine qualities and she's a darned
good looker, too, and 1 know you two will
hit it off like busters, 1 just know it. She
thinks you're the living end, she feels
honored just to be asked for you. I
promise you, you're going to flip over
this number, Farley. Î guarantee you'll
have un evening with her that'll go down
in the history books. Take it from me.
Гус been there.”

“L thought you weren't talking to
her,” I said.

“Oh, that was just here in Cyrano's
and around town, you know. But 1
wanted you two tw get together so I
called her and she said she'd be dc-
ighted. You know what I think? I think
this party'll be good for her. If somebody
real distinguished like you treats her
nice and warms up to her, why, it could
help her to get over me. She needs some-
body to pay some attention to her to get
her mind off, well, me.

1 studied the tablecloth. My hands.
itching to heave the sugar bowl or
i be both,

iud of
nvited.

were
the bi
one missile

ach joyous eye.

"You really think she'll come?” I said
to the tablecloth,

“I know
his showe
know you
My mouth felt dry. I signaled the
iter for another espresso.
“АП right, Anthony, you're in charge
of arrangements. On to the brawl.”
Two girls to cach stud,” he
“Three, maybe. Th

he sa
teeth.

1, showing me all
he's dying to get to

w

а fellow feel rich and wanted, right, old
buddy?"

He gave me his widest, richest grin.

1 should explain that my antipathy to
birthday parties is more than a piece of
eccentricity or orneriness. Г hate them
with all my being. With each passing
year my feeling grows stronger that there
is no reason why your dear ones and your
close friends should make a ceremony of
standing over you on your
counting you а little further out when
there are 50 total strangers in the
world only too glad to do it.

All the same, when I got to Gordon

n the dreaded night. just to see how the
third act of this dramaturgically soggy
farce would turn out, I impressed
by the care that had into the
preparations. There were cartons of ice
cubes, a well-stocked bar, a barman,
canapés, a maid to circulate the canapé:
Anthony had arranged the whole thing
ihrough a catering service and it had
been arranged lavishly. Г wondered if
Anthony had spent on all these fancy
touches the $200 that under other cir-
cumstances he might have paid to Norva
Hameel for her dental bill. А baker's
dozen of my men friends were on hand,
1 in their best suits, and Anthony was
hopping here and there in high spir
his face flushed, making sure that every-
thing was shi Beauty, Gordon's
big, black Belgian sheep dog, a gentle
tch with soft and brimming eyes, was
lying in the corner, just as satisfied to be
left out of the incipient festivit

"When are the others comi
to Anthony

He looked at his watch. "It's a little
before cight. "They should start showing
up in a few

He w g another
Italian suit, a silvery one whose
was a modified double-breasted with cut-
away front and a loose-hanging belt in
the back. It looked like a high-school
graduation outfit that its owner had de-
cided to take out of the mothballs after
sprouting a good six inches. I wondered
why the current vogue demanded
ї man-size body be draped in boy's
garments; maybe the idea was to suggest

there is an imperishable tyke in
Ше weightiest of weightlifters?
comes next, knee pants and Eton

опе

even

Tony Reach said, “I
skipped the Awards to come to this wing
ding ind Im not compla у
understand, but while we're waiting for
the broads to arrive do you mind if we
watch the program on television?

"Why should I mind?" | said, “Ob-
viously as a working actor you want to
sce whom the Academy had the appall-
ingly bad judgment to pick for its top
honors over yourself. Go ahead and
needle yourself and think of gloomy
thoughts about. the botchy taste of your

colleagues if it makes you happy."

“If you're going to be snotty about it,
Tony said, "let me point out something,
colleague. What you weren't nominated.
for this year was the best job of acting
in a supporting role but what I wasn't
nominated for was best job in a starring
role, ГП pull rank on you if I have to,
old colleague.”

“I was nominated twice,” I said, “and
you were nominated only once. Would
you like me to pull a little rank on you?"

“Gentlemen,” Gordon Rengs said,
"you do your venerable profession по
credit with your cheap bickering. Thi
room is full of people who have lost out
on all sorts of top awards over and over
and none of them is bei enough
to boast about it.” He switched the tele-
vision set on and moved over to the
corner to pat Beauty, who raised her
lovelor limp pools of eyes in boundless
gratitude.

А half hour later we were still sitting
around the room watching the most
eminent actors of Hollywood cooing
each other out of the limelight, the same
15 oF us in our best suits. Anthony was
hunched on a large leather ottoman to

jevision set, his eyes

glued to the screen, munching potato
chips. He did not seem to be in the least
aware of the crosecxamining glances
sinning to be directed at
n by all these natüly dressed men
without women. He chewed rapidly.

A half hour after that we werc still
watching the program, still without the
ladies. Not one guest had arrived. I had
had two drinks and as nearly as I could
count it Anthony had had five. He was
shoveling the potato chips into his
mouth with conveyer-belt hands. There
seemed to be moisture gathering on his
forehead. He considered the carpet for
a moment and his smile stretched an-
other inch.

"| didn't
musi

think that was the best
al score at all,” he said suddenly,
at the carpet. "I thought that
was a very ordinary musical score and 1
would never even have nominated it. I
can think of at least five movies that had
better musical scores and they weren't
even named in the nominations. I'll bet
you anything the voting must be rigged
for the old-timers or something like
He was talking very fast and with
jation in tone.
All eyes in the room were turned to
im. He was avoiding them all.
Finally Tony cracked his knuckles
а Listen, kid, did I hear a rumor
you invited some broads to this w
g? The one thing I don't see at this
nice party tonight is broads.”

Anthony did not look up. Now he
seemed to be making a study of his
ankle-high, elasticsided Italian boots. Не
shivered just a little. He took a long
swallow of his sixth drink and looked ac
his watch.

"Well," he said to his watch, "it's not
nine yet. I told them all between eight
and nine and you know how people are,
especially broads, they don't like to be
the first ones at the party so they figure
they'll come like a half hour after the
last time you said and be safe, there'll
bc plenty of people ahead of them, you
know how they thin

He had finished the big platter of po-
tato chips without assistance. He reached.
for another equally big platter that was
on the coffee table and began to pile
into that.

“I know how broads think," Tony
said. “They think, if they're not inter-
ested in going to some party, they don’t
go. They're peculiar that way.”

“They'll be here!" The words shot out
of Anthony as though from a catapult in
his throat. “There'll be 20 of them, 30,
I don't know how many, groovy ones,
too, I'm not putting you on! My God,
holy cats, can you blame me if they all
figure they'll be on the safe side and
come late? They all said they were dying
to come and asked for all the details and
wrote down the address and everything.
how could they not come, they've got to
come!”

His eyes were raised now and going
from one of us to the next, as helpless
and [ull of ghastly begging as Beauty's;
but all the time, there under his sweaty
forehead, flanked by armingly red
checks, his lips were fighting to hold on
to their nonchalant partying smile.
must be a big man with the
" Tony went on lazily. "You in-
vite 30 of them to a party and. not one
of them shows up. You must be a real
sensation. with the broads. You should

tell us sometime how you got to be such
a Killer."

“Lay off, Tony,” Gordon said. “If they
said they'd come and they don't, he's
not responsible.

"He's respon Tony said. "If
ing away, it’s not from us,
it's from him."

"They're coming, they're coming, you
can bet anything vou want!” Anthony
was holding his glass and the ice was
rattling in it, his hand was shaking so
much. “I do all right in that department,

f there's one thing 1 know how to do
5 how to handle myself with, with,
listen, they wouldn't thev were
creaming over the idea of this party and
then hang up and just forget about it, 1
know them and Г know, Fm sure, по,
they wouldn't do it!

He ran out of words then and I saw
why. His eyes had been flitting around
but now they had lit on the television
screen and were flaring to double size,
The final musical number was being
presented to the Awards audience, a fast,
boppy dance routine with three slender
gay boys making arched-back ballet leaps
around a shapely girl who was snaking
her arms up and down and doing mod-
ernistic convulsions with her abdomen
and long fine legs.

Anthony's idiot-inert smile wavered.
‘The ice in his glass was making so much
noise that he set и down. His hands went
to his neck to do some unnecessary ad
justing on his tic.

He turned his stricken eyes to me.

The twitching girl on the television
screen was undeniably,
sickeningly. Norva Hamee

say

“All you have to do is throw one little old fight!”

109

PLAYBOY

110

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muscles did some rippling. Then he
mumbled, “She said she'd come. She said
so. Maybe she meant she was going to do
this performance first, then change her
clothes and get right over here fast, that
must have been her thinking. She didn't
about being late but

mention апу
maybe that was how she had it planned
in her mind, that she'd shoot right over
as soon as she did this bit at the Awards.
Naturally she couldn't turn down this
chance to do her routine before all these
important people, vou couldn't ask her
10 pass up a chance like that, she prob-
ably thought she could squeeze both
things in, sure. first the performa
then the party, that must be it.

Tony was looking him over thought-

nee and

‘orva Hameel’s a friend of yours,
2” he said. “You know her real well,
like you know all the other broads you
invited?”

“Norva Hameel,” Anthony said with
a sudden spurt of brightness, “is one of
d closest friends in Holly-

“That so?" Tony said pleasantly. “And
tell me, how do you and Lizzie Taylor
spend your nights?”

"We were as close as any two people
n this town, ask anybody!” Anthony
sputte We had a real thing, Norva
and me! She wouldn't let me down, 1
can tell you that right now. not alter all
the time we spent together!” He faltered.
His е a deep
breath and added in a husky voice, "We
were, ме were an item. I can show it
10 you black and white. Sidney
Skolsky wrote us up once in his col-
umn.

"M Skolsky ever got a hot tip like
that,” Tony said, “he must have gotten
it from one person, you, vou big blast
of funky wind. I know Norva a little
better than you do, laddy boy. Before
she'd waste one minute on one of you
Iwo-bit weightlifters she'd sooner take
cyanide. She begins to laugh out loud
every time she sees one of you tight-
assed muscle boys come sashaying with
your fan-magazine profiles and tossed
salad hairdos down the Strip. She's told
me many times what she thinks about
you boys with the big chests and the
football shoulders. It's her theory that
you work your muscles overtime because
nothing else in you will work worth a
damn. And stop eating up all the po-
tato chips, you punk. Potato chips won't
do anything for what ails you."

It was an incredible splat of venom.
from big, easygoing, amiable "Tony
Reach. In all the years I'd known him 1
had never heard him sail into anybody
with such undiluted homicide.

For a time after Tony ran out of
Anthony continued to sit very
still. His head was down and no part
of him moved. Then he did something

es wandered. He took

words

crammed а

tonishing. He bolted up,
big handful of potato chips into the dead
center of his unshrinkable smile, and al-
most skipped across the room to where
Beauty was lying. He squatted at the
dog's side and held out his quivering
hand, saying with rushed, pell-mell good
humor, “Here, Beauty, come on. old

ive me your paw, all right, now,
„Jes have your paw, will you?”

jotioncd to Gordon to follow me.
We went into the bedroom

“Bad.” Gordon said. “Bad things in

ї room."
"| expected some kind of 1
1, "but this beats me. He must have
ed a lot of girls and he must have
been pretty sure they'd come or he would
never have dared show up himself, What
could have gone wrong?

“Doesn't make sense. There's some-
thing way off with this lad but 1 don't
know what.”
here's only one way I can figure it.
This is a badly disturbed fellow who
simply can't take no for an answer, who
goes to pieces when he's denied some-
thing and who 1 suppose is denied ovi
and over. 1 happen to know that
occasion. he's knocked
15 around when they didn't dance to
his tu kind of shrilling music
his tune may be. Maybe the girls know
how touchy he is and how much trouble
he can make if they refuse him. Maybe
when he asked them to the party they
just said yes to get rid of him and put it
out of their minds the next minute,
ld be. If he's an and a
1 k irl might с 10 come
and pretend to be writing the address
down. just to cut the conversation short."

"Well, however it happened, we've
got a nightmare in there now. We've got
to break it up somehow, before Tony
cats this kid alive.”

"What's bothering Tony? He's always
such a placid, good-natured guy.

“He can't stand what he calls punks.
Especially Hollywood actor punks. He's
n old unhistrionic pro and he'd like
to break these young strutting psychos
in two with his bare hands. Besides, 1
think he may sense some potency dis-
turbance in this boy that enrages him, 1
don't know why."

Because it echoes something in hi

“I don't think that for а minute.
Tony's practically the top ladies’ man in

invi

more than one

whateve

uu

town. He gets the acam of each new
batch of girls each and every year. Не

couldn't have that kind of problem, 1
think he's just а pro in all departments
who bridles at the amateurs in all de-
partments,"

Maybe. It could also be that the two
of them have potency troubles at oppo-
site ends of the erotic scale and for that
reason they're incompatible, they come
at each other snarling and clawing.”

You mean, satyriasis is
potency disturbance?"

a form of

"hat's one school of thought. Isn't it
а possibility that each man јест
potency trouble of the man next to him,
so long as it’s dillerent from his own?
Well, we don't have to get technical
about jt."

“The question is. how do we handle
this thing? Before there's blood all over
the саре?"

"Here's what I suggest, Farley. When
we go back ГП sit down with Tony and
keep him occupied. You ease the kid out
into the patio and tell him everything's
all right. no hard feelings, but it would
be best if he just faded away, to avoid
trouble. Once you
to go outside 1 don't thi
anxious to come back.

“Let's uy it. 1 tell you, Gordie, I'm
going to make it a policy from now оп
never to be in the same room with

weightlifters, whether they're my

and old buddies or not
“Tm with you there, old buddy
Muscles are nice to have but when you
make them your lile work youre in
trouble, most likely of the kind we were
specifying сате
ell that to my wi

, will you? She's
n after me Гог months to start doing
setting-up exercises.”

“Well, old buddy, I never meant to
suggest that if you're all flab and a yard
wide it automatically follows that you're
а real lover boy.”

"Come on, let's get to work. I'm kind
of sorry Nona Hameel didn’t come.
What I'm suggest that 1 strongly
suspect she could inspire me to be а
real lover boy

be

It was a good enough plan we'd
worked out, but we never got the chance
to wy it. When we returned to the living
room we found the tension there very
dose to exploding. And it had changed
in quality. АШ of our friends were still
sitting wordlesly, looking at Antho
but their faces had shifted from exaspe
tion to puzzlement; when T considered
the object of their attention Г saw why.

Anthony was now on the floor along-
side Beauty, but what he was doing with
her could no longer by any stretch of the

imagination be called play. He had be-
come intent almost to the point of
hysteria; he was issuing commands like
a drill sergeant and insisting that the
poor animal carry them out оп the spot

and with precision. It had somehow be
come а point of honor with hi
matter of life and death,
make every move he dic-
tw 4 contort herself
he willed it. His voice was
with strain and his eves were feverish.
“I told you to give me your рам. now.
right now, paw!" he ground out. “Come
on, quick! bbed Beauty's paw
ing her across the

carpet; she regarded him with sad. be-
wildered eyes. "Didn't you hear what I

‚ more,

obsession,
that the dog

sping

said? Now y
it fast, now!

ive me your paw! Make
He tugged her forward.
shoved her back. "Roll over, dog! Do
what I tell you, roll!” With both hands
he took hold of her fur and flopped her

from side to side, “Кой, don't you
understand anything? When I say roll I
mean roll!" He rotated her

roughly. There were still the remnants
of that crazed, creepy smile on his lips
I could still see k of jollity there
which was meant to say that it was all in
fun, but the mask was crumbling and in
his eyes was a wild gleam that 1 did not
want to watch because it said that this
was very Би [rom fun.

I looked over my shoulder at Gordon
I knew l he was of his dog and
how he hated the whole idea of training
dogs to obey orders. I Бай heard him
say more than once that dogs should be
dogs and not jumping jacks educated to
entertain. their masters and make Ши
feel masterful.

Gordon had forgotten: about going
over to Tony to engage him in conversa-
tion. His s were narrowed as they
riveted themselves оп Anthony.

“You're going to do what I say
Anthony rattled on. He snapped im
perious fingers. "Les во, shake hands,
1 said, shake hands!" He pulled at her
ick, now, roll, roll
ed her body around some me
Gordon stepped over to him.

а mi

pw fc

"Stop bothering the dog." he said.
Anthony did not look up. "You can't
bc that stupid," he said. "You know

what | mean and you're mot obeying
out of spite. Paw! Shake hands! Roll. 1
said! Кош” His hands went ha
at the animal.
I told you to
Gordon said.

1 put my hand on Anthony's shoulder.

“Anthony,” I said. “You'd better stop.
She's not trained to obey orders, she just
can't do it.”

Anthony turned his face up then His
hands were still jerking the dog һе
and there,

"Ew just playing with her," he said.
“Look. she ought to learn these things,
dogs need training, it gives them disci-
pline and they mind when you tell them.
what to do.”

“Gordon will teach her what he wants
to. It’s his dog. Anthony

"No, really, listen,” Anthony
know dogs, I’ve had them all
they make much better pets when you
show them you're master and your word
what goes. She'll learn, she looks like
smart dog, you'll see. Гус had a lot
of experience at this, watch.” His eyes
were piercingly bright and his face was
one sheet of moisture from Ва
collar; his checks w
let. "Beauty! Paw Shake!
Don't pretend you dont understand!
Shake! Кош One, wo!” He shoved Ihi
around. She looked up helplessly as her

singly

leave her alone,

Quit

111

PLAYBOY

112

body plowed this way and that under
his living hands.
Gordon bent over Anthony.
“For the last time,” he said, “I'm warn-
ing you, get your hands off that dog.”
“Paw!” Anthony sputtered. “Roll!
Roll! Paw!”
Back and forth Beauty went, like a
ack of potatoes in a stevedore’s hands.
1 don't know what got into Gordon
to make him do what he did next. Maybe
it was his frustration over being without
work because of the strike, or his misery
ad emptiness now that he'd finished a
big novel and was too drained to figure
out another project for himself, or his
being haunted by the memory of the girl
he'd had to break up with when he left
New York for the Coast, or his disen-
tment with Hollywood Бес:
been through dozens of gaudy all-surface
Hollywood girls, a breed he'd never had

been able to work out anything meaning-
ful with a single one of them; it might
have been all these things. Maybe, too,
he sensed, as 1 did, that young Anthony
had been taking a terrible whipli
from all the eyes in this room for
two hours, topped by Tony's devastating
frontal attack on him and all his paraded
merits, and feeling beaten and stripped
naked had retired to the corner to assert
his mastery over the one living creature
in the room that was not filled with con-
tempt for him, that was weaker and more
defenseless than he wis. Maybe Gordon
ed all this and could not stand to
see Beauty being made the butt of thi
cripple’s need to lord it over some living
stuff. In any case, Gordon raised his
hand and smashed the back of it across
Anthonys check with all his might. It
was qui - The crack of it rever-
berated up and down my spi

Anthony was 20 years younger than
Gordon and had close to 30 pounds on
him. He could have dor с to Gor-
don, assuming that he could have gotten
to him with all of us around. But he did

not even try to strike back, АП he did

was rise to his knees in a hunched pe
tion, his head down, His shoulders began
to heave and there were choked sounds
Пот his lips. He was sobbing and doing
his best to hold it in.

Abruptly, the worst ра
ed and he raised

Now over the film ol sw
cheeks were the running lines of te
But he was still, even in this ultimate
humiliation, even now, when every last
moullage had been stripped [rom him
and he was exposed as he had never in
his Ше been exposed, he was still hold-
1g on to his cracked, tottering, insane
parody of a smile, holding to it for dear
Ше, all his facial muscles taut with the
strain to keep the tears from охе
ning the happy, on-top-of-everything
front.

his he:

at on

rs.

un-

“You didn't have to do Ша
“L was just kidding
They like a little rough
sake:

Gordon was standing there й
fury, his fists half raised to hit out again
at the least provocation.

"Don t take it out on a helpless dog,
he said. "Don't try to make a dog say yes
when the rest of the world says по.”

Anthony's eyes opened still wider. He
shuddered. His hands went to his cheeks
and pressed against the skin there, as
though he had been slapped by Gordon's
words rather than by the blow earlier,
He knew what Gordon was saying. He
knew exactly.

АП of a sudden the smile collapsed
and fell apart like a Chinese fortune
cookie; and for once his face was on dis-
play for the world to see without the
adornments of false joy.

It was not a face to look at when it
was smileless. What had been kept out of
sight by the infectious grin was an agony
and an incredible panic. The world was
to him a firing squad, he had the look of
а man going through Ше as though ex-
pecting at any moment to be executed.
Life in his terrified eyes was a firing
squad that wouldn't fire and wouldn't
lower its guns. АП his days were firing
squads that only stood there and aimed.

1 took him under the arm and helped
him to stand.

‘It's all right, Anthony,” I said. “Gor-
don doesn't like to have people touch
his dog. You didn't know;

But he was not listening. His hands
¢ still to his cheeks and he was still
staring with his ravished eyes at Gordon,
the source of the words that had just e:
ecuted him but left him breathing, the
spokesman this day for the firing squad
that was as big and as lasting as the
world. His lips struggled to form words.

“Why do they lie to me?” пе stid. "АП
of them? Lie to mc and tell me по?

„г he said.
nd with hc
ouse, Гог gosh

iced

sking Gordon in partic
lar. He was asking the firing squad of a
world, of which Gordon was only for
the moment spokesman. He simply
wanted to know once and for all, was
formulating the big question for the first
time in his life in so many words, why it
was that the world w landscape of

з Irom horizon to horizon, guns per-
manently pointed in his direction, and
why his life was one long death sentence
that was never quite carried o

“It’s all right.” I said. “Let's go out-
side and get some air.”

He offered no resistance when I led
him out to the patio. He was limp, all
his cultivated muscles loose, as I guided
him to Ше patio door and down the
steps to where his MG was parked. When
I opened the door of the car and pressed
him easily toward it he slid onto the seat
at once.

“Will you be all right?" 1 said. “If you
don't feel like driving ГИ be glad to take
you home in my car.

1 right,” he

id.

good night's sleep.” I said

“You'll wake up in the morning
feeling better."

"No way to feel better," he said to the

windshield, to the firing squad. "More
you look at it Ше worse it gets. They
dont want you and all they want is to
tell you no and bite when it suits them.

All you can do is sit around and w

With that, he fished his key out of his
pocket. slipped it into the ignition,
started the car and drove off.

The next morning Gordon dropped
me off at the studio, as usual, and took
the car to the beach. They were not
ready to call me for my scene so 1 was
g myself in my dressing room get-
ting the upright reeds in position for the
floral basket | was about to make: I am
a fim believer in keeping the hands
occupied to prevent the mind Пот get-
preoccupied. But even with my
hands working | kept thinking back over
the complicated. events of my splendid.
birthday party.

There came а knock at the doo
was the assistant directo:
Phone call for you, Farley,
You know I don't take calls on the
set,” E said.

“Party says it's urgent. It's a Miss Ham
cel, Norva Hameel.” His knowing smile
made me wonder if he had ever hid 10
wil

busyi

It

he said.

1 days in Acapulco.

1 went to the phonc.

“Its me, Кога Hameel
immediately. “Excuse me Гог bothe
you оп the set, Mr. Munters, but 1 had
to talk to you. I want to tell you why I
didn't come to your party last night and
how much I would have liked to have
been there if the circumstances had been
different.”

"I know you were busy at the Awards,”
І said. “I saw you on television. You
were very good."

“Oh, it w s kept me
away. I could have come over alter, but

"Anthony actually invited you:

^Did he invite * Youll never be-
lieve what he did to me, Mr. Munters.
He was on the phone every day fo
week, morning, noon and night, saving
1 had to come to this party and v go-
ing to be your date. 1 kept hanging up
on him because I had the unpleasant
feeling he wanted to show you he had
some kind of mysterious control over me
nd could throw me into anybody's arms
just by snapping his fingers. 1 like you
and admire you, Mr. Munters, but you
can sce 1 couldn't show up under those
circumstances,”

"I understand fully, Miss Hameel
your sensitivities do you credit. But do
you really think he wanted you to be

“I was going to have a sandwich sent in, but as long as you're
in town ГЇЇ take you to dinner. Good night . . . er . . . Maggie

m

113

PLAYBOY

114

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my, ah, date? V
for him to see you a
ou don't know how this nut's mind
works, Mr. Munters, He kept insisting
he wouldn't say two words to me, tha
1 was going to be with you, and I lx
lieved him. I think it was more impor-
tant for him to be able to throw me at
somebody than to have me himself. It
would have been another way of beating
с up, one the fuzz couldn't get him
for. Besides, I think he would have
gotten some peculiar kicks in that cess-
pool of а mind of his thinking of me
being with somebody else, 1 mean, really
being with them, and him knowing all
the time he'd arranged it.”

‘Interesting theory. ГИ take it under
advisement

just an excuse

it Em calling abou
aters. Wait ull you hear uie
What 1 finally did was, I
couldn't stand getting all these calls from
him so I did something drastic. I had the
phone company change my number, 1

Mr. Mu
whole story.

thought that would hold him but I
was wrong. Yesterday afternoon 1 was

ning and it was kind of
muggy so I had the front door open to
let in Ше air. All of a sudden 1 looked
up and there was Anthony. He came
right in and said I was до the
party and Г was going to be your date.
I forgot how you have to treat this nut,
1 was so sore, Г just snapped that 1
wasn't going and he'd better get out. He
began slugging me, the same old story,
and telling me if I didn't come he would
kill me. That was when 1 realized 1 was
using the wrong tactics with th
I was scared out of my wits.
all right, И he would stop hitting me I
would come. He said, fine, you were a
wonderful man and 1 would like you, it
would be an honor Гог me to be your
date. When he left 1 looked myself ove
in the mirror and found he had given
me onc lovely shiner, the cye was prac-
tically closed. The make-up man at the
Awards had to work over the eye for
more than an hour before he had it
disguised good enough so 1 could go on.
1 wanted you to know, Mr. Munters. 1
didn’t dare to come to the party alter
that, 1 was scared to be in the same
room with thi maniac.”

“Fm sorry, Miss Hameel. If I'd had
the slightest idea what was happening
1 could have tried to stop him. I simply
didn't know.”

doing some

ng to

ravi

“Don't blame yourself, Mr. Munters.
It hasn't got anything to do with you.

He's just out of his head and there's
nothing you or anybody else can do
about it What I'm doing this afternoon
, I'm going down to police headquar-
ters and ask them to lock him up again
wlt and battery charges, and
they won't do that to give me some pro-
tection. They'll believe me when they
see this eye, it’s closed up tight now.”
“That's a shame, Miss Hameel. I'm

genuinely sorry you had to go through
so much.

“Well, ГП live. T
с of this mad kille
just wanted you tw know how disap-
pointed I was that I couldn't get to your
party. Under other circumstances 1
would have made it a point to be there.”

“Ie would have been a pleasure to
have had you there, Miss Hameel. Per-
haps another time.
“I'd like that, I really would. As soon
as this суе heals up, that is.”

“I hope it gets better quickly.”

“Tm sure it will. They usually clear
up fast. Anyhow, 1 can always wear dark
asses,"

"Goodbye, Miss Hamecl.”
soodbye, Mr. Munters."

1 had a long, leisurely lunch in the
commissary. I sat by myself, eating an
Elizabeth Taylor salad and reading Moi
Gugne’s autobiography, which I find to
be а good antidote for almost any kind
of catastrophe such as my partying of
the night before. Soon after I got back
to the set, about 2:30, Gordon showed.
up. I was surprised. He never came back
from Ше beach this c.

“The party's over,”
Read thi

He handed me a copy of the Mirror
Examiner folded back to the fifth page,
pointing to a brief news story near the
bottom. This was the text:

“The body of Anthony Trilling. 23,
television bit player, was found by the
police this morning in his apartment at
1173 Greenview Place, in the West Holly-
wood hills off Miller Drive. Trill
whose real name, according to lette
personal documents discovered оп Ше
premises, was Paul Wasniecki, of Ann
Arbor, Michigan, had apparently swa
lowed the contents of a bottle of sleep-
ing tablets. No suicide note was left but
Detective Sergeant James W. Macready
informed newspapermen that across Ше
bureau mirror were scrawled the words,
"Foo many of them too many.’ It is De-
tective Macready's theory that Trilling
used a deodorant stick to spell out these
words shortly before he lost conscious-
ness. Police were puzzled by one object
found in the bedroom, a portion of a
human tooth, apparently an incisor, bur-
small block of transparent
plastic. This plastic cube was suspended
over the bed by a string ched
into one of its faces ilar letters
were the cryptic words, "She still bites."

I put the paper down. My eyes strayed
to the mirror. It seemed to me that if I
did not get that damn silly wig and
absurd moth-eaten robe off right away,
that minute, I would be condemned to
spend Ше rest of my days looking like
that, а lumpy, greasy monk in pancake
-up. We're making up, he had said.
He had made up now. With himself.
He was al made up with himself. I
rubbed the round bald spot on my

police will take
from now on. 1

he said.

icd in a

and sera

monk's wig. It felt like the cold
ment skin of a dead man
I said party's over.”

"The

sweating’s over." Gordon said.
"You always see somebody like that
from à distance. From His smile

js a wall of glass between you and him
two miles wide. You never come close
nough to sce that the one thought in
his mind is how long he can hold out
with his hands tied and the firing squad
ping at him."
fou think any of the girls at Cy
tonight will notice he's gone
No. They'll be too busy smiling. put-
ting up a wall of glass around them-
selves two miles wide. Gordon, what do
you make of this?"

“What I make of it," he said, "is that
Hollywood acts on some as a fungus, a
dry rot, a. progressive rust, rather than
a community. Acting is а profession
in which you tell lies to make а living
and sometimes you can die of it. Life is
an impossible job of work for which
they'll never enact ап eighthour day or
a minimum wage. Too much value is
hed to the happy face and too many
work themselves into the grave cultivat-
iL Things have a tendency to be

partially bad all over, тоге so on some
streets than on others. Its amazing, in
this land of perpetual sun, how many

city blocks there are th
shines on. Christ, | don't know what
to make of it. I would give a good deal
to know Ше meaning of that cracked
incisor in the plastic cube."

Excuse me," Г said. “Have to make
a phone call.”

the sun never

I went outside to the wall phone. I
called the Screen Actors’ Guild and got
the number 1 wanted. I dialed and
waited through several rings.
“Miss Hameel?” 1 said. “F
ters.”
"Oh, Mr.
nice.
“Fm afraid what I have to tell you
isn't very пісе. There's a story in today's
paper that you ought to know about."
whole thing to her.
a long silence. I could hear

ng.

Munters,” she said. “How

There w
her breath
"Paul Wasnice

she said.
“I never ki

Е could
ew that was

his name.
"You never cm tell
around here. Or faces

Another silence.

"Oh, my God." Her voice had more
power now. “That nut. He ran out of
girls to beat up on. He finally had to
beat up on himself.”

His whole life was one long beatin
Whether from himself or ше
outside, he was getting slapped all the
time.”

about

names

it camc

“бо was I. Not by myself. By him."

“Well, 1 suppose he was trying to even
the score. Give the world back what he
thought he was getting from it every

minute. You happened to be handy.
Within reach.”

“I don't think I
Munters.”

“What Fm trying to say is, he finally
had to reach out to the firing squad aud
pull the triggers himself, Thats it. I
think so. It doesn't. matter."

"But what was he doing with that
piece of my woth hanging over his bed?
Thats weird.”

“You kept saying no to him and he
thought cach time you were biting him
Something like that He thought
the world was making a slow motion
meal of him.

“Well,” she said, "the boys are getting
ted from the men. That incredible

follow you, M

maybe.

up man's dressing table was
just to опе side of where E was stand
I mov

over so that I could sec myself
in the mirror. 1 decided that I really
didn't look so bad in this outfit after all.
Matter of fact, I looked rather distin-
guished. A bit overweight, maybe, but
that could be handled with a regular
regimen of setting-up exercises,
“Mr. Munters,” she said, "I'm sorry
truly sorry, that we had то meet under
these circumstances."

"I know what you mean,” I said. "I
am, too.”

“Are you going to be out here long? 1
heard your picture was going to be fin-
ished in a few days.

"Im doing my last scene this after
noon," I said. “I take the jet to New
York in the morning, but ТЇЇ be coming
back out in May, May the 170, to do
х weeks

another picture. ГЩ be here for s
1 least.”

"That's wonderful,” she said.
I could almost see the wide smile on
her dimpled Norwegian face as she said
this, I leaned over to sce my own fac
in the mirror and forced my lips into
а broad smile.

1 thought: 1 shall remember Anthony
Trilling's all-out grin, the cancer on Ше
lips of my professi
the day I die, at which time I
hope 1
enongh ra
trapped and tricked animal, to take over
all of my face.

“Yes.” I said, "D like the idea, too.
California is good for my sinuses. My
hay fever doesn't bother me at all out

m and my Ше, till
cerely
mon up

will be able to sun

с. not as an actor, as another

her

“1 really hope we'll have а chance to
pet together when you're back, Mr.
Munters,” she за

“Lers make a point of it," I said.

I studied myself in the mirror. I
wondered, irrelevantly, how | would

look in а monk's cowl strolling around
the sunny streets of Acapulco.

I'll look forward to it, Farley.”

“I will too, Norv:

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PLAYBOY

116

TWIN-EARED SOUNDS

receiver (57.50) or а base for the Garrard
($4.49), But remember that we're talking
list price and that dealers have been
known to talk discounts, especially when
complete rigs are under discussion.
Before we leave the $500 category,
here is an alternate suggestion for the
purist who would rather put off FM
stereo for the nonce in the interest of
geuing higher quality in the other de
partments. Hed be well advised to start
off with the ESL Gyro/Suspension turn-
able — a four-speed, belt-driven job that
can be had with a hysteresis synchronous
motor ($79.95 including base) — and the
Dynaco TA-I2 unitized stereo pickup
($49.95) with its remarkably smooth
Bang & Olulsen cartridge. The stereo
amplifier could easily be Harman-
Kardon A-500 ($139.95), which has an
output of 25 watts per channel and em-
bodies just about every control and func
tion indicator devised by the hand of
man. For speakers we'd choose a pair of
AR2As ($109 cach, unfinished). which
offer а solid bass, bi
transients, Later on,
and a four-track tz
For our 51000
that FM sterco is a sine qua non. We'll
throw in AM, too (everyone has to go
slumming occasionally), and favor the
8008 AM-FM sterco receiver
50), another allin-one unit that
s over 30 watts per channel and does
а superb job of bringing in noise-free,
distortionless stereo broadcasts. (Inciden-
tally, the 800-В has a useful Stereo Beam
ndicator to tell you when you've hit
upon a multiplex signal as you wander
over the ЕМ band.) For record-playing
equipment our choice gocs to some care-
fully crafted imports. The Thorens TD-

(continued from page 50)

124 Transcription Turntable ($99.75.
plus base), which comes from Switzer-
land, embodies such refinements as a
variable speed adjustment control, an
wminated stroboscope, and buil
bubble and leveling controls. With this
proven and muchadmired piece of
equipment we've mated the Danish
made Ortofon RMG-309 arm ($59.95)
and SPU-GT cartridge ($49.95). Ortofon
gear is new to America, but in Europe
it has an almost enchanted reputation —
which we well understand after
hearing the magnificent performance of
this arm and cartridge combination.
Speaker systems? In the indicated. price
range (that is, around $200 per speaker)
there's ап embarrassment of choice. We
finally settled on а pair of Tannoy Dual
Concentrics in the Belvedere Senior
closure (5223 each). This Briti:
has impressed us as an ши
transducer —open and fre
not at all boxy in its ove
we'll be the first to admit that of
on speakers is as unpredictable as opin-
ion on women, so consider also the KLH
Model 7 ($203 cach), a kugish acoustic
suspension system; the JansZen 7:300
(5203.50), which maries а two-element
electrostatic tweeter to ап Tinch cone
woofer; and the Fisher XP- ($199.50),
in which the wooler is molded directly
onto the enclosure for improved bass.
The man with а thousand dollars to
spend may happen to put a higher prior
ity on four-track tape than stereo FM —
quite justifiably, too, И he lives in an
area where stereo FM has yet to take
hold. Should this be the case, wc recom-

(

1 effect. But

mend а Scot 299-C stereo amplifier
(8224.95), with its comfortable 36 watts
per channel, in place of the Fisher
800-В. The $200 thus saved can be in-

vested in a Tandberg Model 65 tape
player (5199.95), which handles both
two- and fourirack tapes at 74 and
334 ips for pl k only.

So we're now wp to $1500 and no
longer concerned about either/or de-
cisions. At this figure the fidelitarian
can have just about everything.
start him off with the Empire 7
dour turntablearm-carridee combin
tion ($200), which will wack nicely at a
stylus pressure of one gram and is as
Tree from rumble and flutter as anything
оп the market, For (аре equipment
we've favored the Bell 1-337 (5369.95),
а four-track stereo record / playback unit
that's operated via a panel of convenient.
piano keys. It's foolproof, handsome and
ruggedly made. Because the Вей T-337
is a recording as well as a playback unit,
a good microphone for home taping
dicated. The Electro-Voice
Model 664 (895 each) gets our nod be-
cause of its cardioid pickup pattern and
solid construction. Stereo FM reception
is handled by the H. H. Scott Model 350

Tuner ($199.95), a wide-band unit typi
cal of this company's penchant Гог turn-
ing out drift-free, ultraselective radio
gear. We've entrusted the remaining
electronics to Fishe 02-B Master
Conuol Amplifier ($249.50), a 75-watter
that has a useful tape monitoring system.
For the $1500 man’s speakers the choice
has fallen on а рай of Bozak B-302As i
the Urban cabinetry ($254.50 each). This
is a three-way speaker system in an infi-
nite Байс enclosure, and its dean bass
and brilliant weble are of the kind to
make even the most tone-deat take notice.

If $1500 will get you "just about’
everything in a high fidelity installation,
what will everything cost? Well, who
s? This is a damn-the expense assem-
blage Гог the man who has plenty of
spare room and spare cash, and it's
frankly meant to look as well as sound
impressive. To begin with, he will have
two record plavers—a turntablearm
combination for really spectacular stereo
sonics and an automatic changer for
attentive listening. His
turntable is Rek-O-Kut's best, the Model
B-I2H (5139.95), a massive. precision-
tooled affair with a heavy-duty hysteresis
motor; the arm, Shure’s Model 232
($29.35), a IZincher of lovely design:
the cartridge, Audio Dynamics ADC-1
($49.50), with its extremely high compli-
ance, low tracking force, minute mass
and .6-mil tip radius. For the changer
we've selected the new Mi
H ($99.50), a neat German import th:
combines a hysteresis motor with a bliss-
fully smooth changing mechanism. In its
mass-balanced (no springs) € put
ihe Pickering
valve cartridge ($60) equipped with three
V.Cuard stylus assent:
stereo, lmil for mono LP, 2.7-mil for
78s — to cover all possible contingencie:
The tape recorder is
torized Model 777-5 ($7:
of professional engineering that offers
such amenities as Electro Bi-Latera
Heads (the equivalent of six sterco head
% wack and 14 track, for the record,
playback and erase functions), hysteresis
drive motor, remote-control push-button
operation, and modular plug-in circuitry.
A pair of Shure Model 330 Uni-Ron
microphones (5120 each) are included
lor the home stereo recordist; their
generally silken response should please
record-

somewhat less

‚ а tidy piece

the most. perlectionist
ing director.

Next in this profligate rig comes the
stereo FM tuner, and here our vote goes
to the Citation HIX (5319.90), one of
the celebrated Hegeman-designed units
from Harman-Kardon, somewhat uncon
ventional im circuitry but splendid in
perform; For non-FM reception
we've included the new National NC-190
receiver ($219.95), а dual.conversion com-
munications set that covers the AM
broadcast band and the entire shortwave
spectrum (up to 30 megacycles) as well;

тенг

псе.

six major foreign broadcast bands, from
13 to 49 meters, are calibrated on the
bandspread dial for easy tuning. For the
preamp and the power amplifiers, we've
turned to the products of Marantz, a
firm that is to audio componentry as
Rolls-Royce is to automobiles. The
atz Model 7 preamp (5264) and
Model 9 70-watt power amplifier (5324
nd you need two for stereo) are
at the very pinnacle of the ne plus ultra
category. Our moncy-is-no-problem man
obviously lives in spacious quarters (or
he can move if he doesn’t), so we've had
no hesitation in choosing two monster
speaker systems for him, the Electro-
Voice Patrician 700s (5795 each) with
their unique 30inch woofers. The thun-
derclap in Das Rheingold really shakes
the floor boards when it rolls through
these Patricians, and the effect may just
possibly arouse a neighbor's ire in the
small hours of the morning: to be ри
dent, then, we've also thrown in a ра
of Superex Model ST-M headphones
($29.95) for the occasions when a private
sonic world would seem to be in order.

Our only misgiving about this system
is that some well-heeled enthusiast may
actually go out and order one sound-
unheard. Actually, the man who's going
to invest this much cash in a super stereo
rig should be pretty intransigent about
choosing the componentry that most
closely suits his particular sonic tastes.
For nple, instead of the Patrician
7005 he might well prefer the J. B. Lan-
sing Hartsfield corner-horn system (5918
ach) or the Ranger-Paragon one-unit
stereo system ($2102), the Bozak Concert
Grand ($550 each), or the Tannoy GRF
($385 cach). And in place of Marantz
electronics, his fancy could just as readily
alight on the equally posh McIntosh
С.20 stereo preamp ($234) and МС240
80-watt power amplifiers ($288 each).

In short, the moral — whether you're
exuding or economizing— is to liste
before you leap. Tailoring a system to
your own whims and ways is one of the
chief delights of stereo. If our four sam-
ple rigs have started you planning one of
your own, or upgrading the one you now
own, we cin write a grateful Q.E.D. ЕЙ

PERILS OF PASSION

(answers)
1. The Mikado, by Gilbert and Sul-
livan, which (along with Madam
Butterfly) went unproduced in this
country during World War II, be-
cause of its Japanese locale. Soon
after the curtain rises on Act One,
the lovesick hero is informed of the
Mikado's stern decree:

“That all who flirted, leered or

winked,

Unless connubially linked,
Should forthwith be beheaded.”
2. Leviticus, the Third Book of
Moses. “And the Lord spake unto
Moses, saying . . . ‘And the man

that commiueth adultery with
other man’s wile, even he that com-
teth adultery with his neighbor's
wife, the adulterer and the adulter-
ess shall surely be put to death.”
(King James Version.)
3. 1981, by George Orwell. In the
totalitarian state of the fut
scribed by Orwell, “The sex
created a world of its own which
was outside the Party's control and
which therefore had to be destroyed
if possible. What was more impor-
tant . . . sexual privation induced
hysteria, which was desirable be-
cause it could be transformed into
leader worship. . . . The unforgiv-
able crime was promiscuity between
Party members. . .. The sexual act
- . . was rebellion. Desire was
thought-crime.” (Italics ours.)
4. Measure for Measure, by William
Shakespeare (or, according to various
cultists, by Francis Bacon, Christo-
pher Marlowe, Ben Jonson, the
17th Earl of Oxford, the Sixth Earl
of Derby, et al). In this play, the
first civil act of Angelo, newly ap-
pointed Deputy of Vienna, is to
revive an old statute by which the
hero, Claudio, is

7... Condemn'd upon the act of

fornication/To lose his head.”

5. Das Liebesverbot, an carly opera
by Richard Wagner. The libretto
was based on Measure for Measure.

three fashion finds

(continued from page 59)
Impeccably correct for resort wear
ound the globe, both summer and win-
the spectator suit (while uniquely
wpical in toto) incorporates many cle-
ments of the current Continental mode
sportswear: longer jackets, extending
three or four inches below the sleeve
end: natural shoulders; narrow lapel
fitted chestlines; gentle waist suppre:
jon; slightly fuller sleeves than in recent
cuffed trousers (though business
and evening suits remain cuffless) and
highly individual detailing. The ascot-
cented silk sport shirt, Roman-striped
to match the jacket lining, reflects the
bokdstriped shirt influence which dom-
inates both leisure and business wear on
the Continent, and exemplifies the kind
of subtle style detail м
Italy а fountainhead of worldwide

ion design for discri men

tel

Avail in a
spectrumespanning selection of muted
nd uninhibited shades, fitted with
three self-covered buttons for а custom-
tailored touch, and worn in coordina-
tion with meticulously matched ascot,
ореп-соПагей shirt and solid-color slacks,
these jackets have created a new look of
studied informality in resort wear which
promises to make the leisure scene i
a big way this season both in America
and abroad.

Our f bulky-wweave pullover
shirt, spotted on the strand at Rapallo,
is one of a rich assortment of iner
ingly esteemed Italian sport shirts i
rse-woven fibers, The monochromatic
beige theme of this handsome shirt and
slack outfit sets the tone for this year’
Riviera styles. From hat to shoes, shades
of tan, beige and straw — accented with
a soupcon of crimson. purple, cerulean
and gold — enliven the resort wardrobe
with what might accurately be termed
venturesome understatement.

semilormal functi

atured

117

118

SPANISH PRISONER (continued from page 61)

me a bit of paper. The рог all earthy.

He growled, “Paper! You wanna me
I should put jam on it, maybe?" There
was a gutted old ledger or manuscript
book to hand. He ripped out a few pages
and wrapped the flowerpot. “So long,
he said.

I took the flower home — it was to
enhance my evening à deux — unwrapped
the pot, stood bı ay, с cal пе
tarily, “What beautiful handwriting!”

"Whatever are you talking about?" my
companion inquired.

1t was the wrapping paper: fine, hand-
made stuff, unruled and covered with
marvelously regular lines in а very fine
Jonghand, written in black ink with a
flexible sharp nib.

I saw, in the top righthand corner of
the uppermost sheet, Charles Quimet.
Journal. Paris, 1863-1865. p. 142. The
other pages were headed similarly, with
consecutive page numbers. Charles Oui-
met, whoever he may have been, must
have had an суе on posterity. Well, 1
thought, greater work than Ouimet's has
ended in dirtier hands than Ciuccia’s —
the manuscripts of Bach ended in a
butcher's shop.

1 read on. Ouimet wrote a stylized
kind of French
What is it?'
asked.

my young dinner guest

ed

1 said, "It seems that somebody
out with the great.

Ouimet had written:

"Monday. Mlle. T and Г dined
with Alexandre Dumas the Elder and
the American actress Adah Isaacs Menken
of New Orleans.

“Dumas, gorged with rich food, had
the appearance of a sleepy hippopotamus,
but his bloodshot eyes were shrewd and
sly under his fleshy brows, like the eyes
of a mischievous child pretending to hide
under a pillow. His coat was too tight,
somewhat the worse for neglect, and so
marked with the brown tints of ancient
sauces as to remind one of the palette of
a painter g colors for an autumnal
landscape. Yet the beautiful American
could not take her great black eyes off
him. As we sipped our сойсе, she asked
ively, "Master, is it true that in
unt of Monte Cristo you took the
of the escape of Edmond D.
from the memoirs of the Baron von
Trenck?

“Dumas answered, "No, sweet lady,
but what if I had? Would you, for ex-
ample, ask the cook downstai
sublime omelets we ate tonight werc
merely modifications of the work of a
chicken? No, dear lady, I'm sorry, 1
can't help it— I'm a genius. 1 tra
and the commonplace.
seed of Monte Cristo was blown
fertile garden of my mind by a curious
little tale. I let it germinate, here — and

transmut
to the

һете——/ He struck himself on forehead
and breast; one of his waistcoat buttons
flew off. ‘For you, Divine Mazeppa, I'll
tell the little story which was to become
the germ of what the world wrongly re-
gards as the greatest romantic novel of
our age Yes, wrongly, Monsieur
Ouimet! The Three Musketeers is the
greatest. I rank Monte Cristo second,
only. I know my limitations."

“So, pausing occasionally to feed Adah
cs Menken a grape or an apricot,
andre Dumas drew into his im-
mense chest a breath that seemed to е
st the atmosphere of our little private
dining room, and went on: dry, matter-
offact, inexorable; covering the table-
cloth with diagrams made of forks, fruit
and decanters . .

++. I met him about 30 years ago in
Malaga, in early summer. 1 love Spain,
but the Spaniards disappointed me
somewhat; they arc jealous as Moors and
keep their women behind gratings. 1
refer, of course, to the Spanish gentle-

man. But even the shopkeeper— even
the mechanic, the fisherman, the mule-
teer, the barber, the cab driver, the

humble artisan — is devilishly quick with
a knife if one so much as winks at his
wife. I was never perfectly comfortable
in Spain. It is the only country in
Europe — except Corsica, where the men
re just as barbarous — in which I some-
times found myself with time to kill.

In other words, I was bored. I loitered.
about the wharves, observing the sailors
and the ships, and cating chirimoyas,
that sweetest of fruit. They say that a
dozen chirimoyas caten daily for a fort-
night will kill you. Then when my time
comes, let me perish of a surfeit of
chirimoyas, in the arms of a beautiful
woman, to the music of Rossini! How
so be it, one ship in particular caught
my fancy—a merchant vessel of anti-
quated pattern, but of distinctive ele-
gance of line, smartly painted and
decorated with a finely carved figure-
head represen lorious girl in
bridal dress. The mc of the ship was
Mercedes, As I stood, admiring, а deep
voice said, "My

I turned and saw a gentle
might have been Don Quixote himself,
he was so tall and thin and long-limbed;
only he was dressed all in rich black, re-
lieved only by white cambric ruffles at
wrist and throat, and was leaning on a
long, gold-headed ebony stick, His hands,
1 noticed, were all tight sinew and drawn
wire, conveying an impression of im-
mense nervous strength, and although his
manner was courteous his tone wi
cmptory, almost harsh.

I replied, as best 1 could, that I pro-
foundly admired both vessel and figure-

head — that the latter, indeed, interested
me most of all. He. grimly smiling —
possibly at my Spanish —replied па
heavily accented French, “Ah, yes, the
figurehead is handsome, but not nearly
as beautiful as its original, alter whom
the ship herself is named.”

We introduced ourselves to cach
other, then, and I learned that this was
the immensely wealthy merchant Juan
Gutierrez. He continued, “If M. Dumas.
will do me the honor to join me in a
simple little dinner at my house, such as
it is, I shall be most proud to present
you to the lady."

“I shall be enchanted, senor,” said I.

“If you will grant me the privilege of
sending my humble four-whecler to you:
hotel at eight o'clock . . .?

You might have thought that I was
10 be dragged ой in a donkey cart to cat
wormy chick-peas out of a wooden bowl
in a sooty hovel. But 1 was conveyed
n a high black-and-gold coach drawn by
four peerless matched black horses to a
magnificent house in а high-walled
garden of exotic trees and brilliant
llowers. The gates were of intricately
wrought iron, guarded by a forbiddi
keeper and two frightful black dogs as
big as and twice as shaggy.

І was received in a luxuriously ap-
pointed salon, adorned with rarities from
all over the earth, but my attention was
caught amd held by a

magnificent portrait of
beauty in the Spanish style. The fi
alone must have been worth 100,000
francs! Seeing my awe-struck gaze, and
hearing m p of rapture, Gutierrez
said, good likeness. I do mot
know m pictures, but the
is well spoken of
; they tell me." I looked about
nuly. "She will join us for
i

Explaining that his lady was indis-
posed with а passing migraine, he took.
me into dinner. Courtesy compelled me
to take a sip of wine, to his good health
and Jong ще: Не

y ga

ch about
inter, one Goya

until snow falls in the hi
summer in the streets of Malag

“That will be never, then,” 1
“But what is a djuk?”

It is a gypsy word, meani

So, in the course of a super
ner, a description of whid nce you
have already dined — might seem weari-
some, the merchant of Malaga told
something of himself.

His family, driven by poverty, had
come to the coast from the plains, where
for generations they had been horsemen
and cattlemen. At the age of 10, young
Juan Gutierrez shipped as cabin boy
board a merchantman. Quick to lea
Clever with his hands, very tall for his
age, and remarkably strong and agile,
he was an able-bodied seaman at 10, and.

second mate before he was 19 vears old.
By this time he had seen much of the
world and learned the lingua franca of
the sea, which involves a little of every
language. There was no situation, he
flattered himself, to which he could not
adapt himself. So we all think, until we

fall in love.
He fell in love with Mercedes de
Baeza, daughter of ship's

She was only 16. but
already regarded as onc of the most beau-
tiful girls in that city. And there w:
that about Juan Gutierrez which made
her prefer him to any other man she
had seen. Her look told him that. Не
went suaight to her father and asked for
her hand ii

Old De ed at him. “Do
you think I am going to throw my
Mercedes away on а mere second mate
of a merchantman?” he asked.

"Next year I shall be first n
Juan.

"And after Ша?”
n a couple of y
ad,” said Juan,

The chandler said, "What then? In
Malaga one cannot spit without 1
a captain. No, no, my boy! Come
k with а ship of your own, and then
we might talk.”

Juan went away bitterly enough, but
before he sailed he contrived to talk
with Mercedes. “I shall wait for you,”
she said.

“When J return,’
in a ship of my ow

Then he went down to the port. On
the way he saw a crowd of children hiss-
ing and making the sign against the evil
сус, and th g fruit rinds at an old
gypsy we who was trying to rest in
ihe shade of a wall. Juan
ndhearted young fellow, and broad-
nded for a Spaniard, having learned.
in his travels that it takes all sorts to
make a world, drove the childre|
He gave the old woman a piece of
money, saying, “Со with God."

She thanked him, and said, “For your
courtesy, young gentleman, I will read
you a djuk and give you a blessing, for
gypsies Gun bless as well as curse, if they
wish." Laugh he held out his hand,
but she put it aside, saying, “That is for
[ools. Let me read your eyes.” Her gaze

chandler of Mala

marriage.

aeza

ate," said

s, I shall have a

con

аы

it will be

id he,

who was a

met his and held it so that he could
not have looked away had he tried. "You
shall have your heart's desire," she said.

A ship of my own?" he asked.
“Twenty ships of your own and the
1 you love."

hed: it was the old story.
when shall I die?"

She said, “I shall send my Watcher to
keep you Пот harm, but you must die
when snow falls in the heat of midsum-
mer in the streets of Malaga. That is
written.” With which absurdity, she
hobbled aw

Indies,

So Juan sailed for the East
where his captain traded cheap guns and
powder for valuable silks and spices. It
Was а prosperous voyage. but it brought
our hero no nearer to his command, let
alone the ownership of his own. vessel,
and his beloved Mercedes seemed never
so far away. They came safely around the
coast of Africa. lt was when they were
in the Mediterranean itself that they
were struck by one of those unforeseeable,
abrupt and frightful tempests, luckily
rare im those waters As if 50 batteries
of artillery had been waiting in ambush
behind the blue of the sky, there was а
puff of black cloud, а glare of white fire,
and all their masts were gone in one
shattering blast! The ship was helpless
in a mountainous sea, and at the mercy
of all ше 32 winds in collusion. She
foundered. Juan lashed himself to a
spar and, with an ardent prayer to
Heaven. let the waves take him, He also
cried, "M st’ And, 10 be on the
side, muttered, “Remember my
djuk, gypsy." Then the waves beat the
senses out of him

He came to himself on a sandy beach
and saw that he was surrounded by

safe

armed men in white robes, bearded to
the eyes, and very villainous looking.
‘They gave him water. He spoke to them
in the lingua franca, thanking them.
They grinned, and one of them said
“Save your breath. You're coming with
us to Sakrcl-Drough."

Vow

his, in the old days, was a
that inspired terror in the African d
Sakrel-Drough was а great robber sheik.
notorious for his outrageous. cruelties,
his instability of mood and his Mo-
hammedan piety. Most Christian sailors
would have preferred to be thrown back
into the ocean. But our Juan Gutierrez
was young and levelheaded and in love —
astounding combination! — and he went
cheerfully enough.

The Sheik Sakr-el-Drough sat ii
shade, dri
man, Gutierrez saw — just 1
hawk that always р
shoulder. "What is your faith?" he asked
Ше prisoner

Now [ have told you that Juan was
a quick-witted boy. He was as good а
Christian as Ше next, but he saw no
sense in being flayed or impaled on a

name

king coffee, He was a ten

hed оп

№,

ү,

9 M)
RW RAZI

“One faction leans toward a communistic ideology, the
other has capitalistic tendencies. Now, the question
we have to ask ourselves is, which of the two will

тай

а better Кат God?"

119

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122

“Land sakes, if it wasn't for me, you'd all go out there half dressed!”

point of doctrine: so he answered, look-
ing the Sheik straight in the eyes, “1 am
а servant of God." Не added, for the
benefit of the superstitious Bedouins,
“Also, I am watched over by a djuk.”

A djuk?” asked the Sheik with inter-
Is that some kind of jinn?’

Did I not come alive through the
tempest?” asked Juan, evading the ques-
tion.

Hm. Where do you keep this so-called.
“рш?”

t keeps me."
n your djuk convey you through
the air?"

“If need be,” said Juan.

“If I threw you off a roof, would ће
catch you?"

“ОГ course!” said Juan, boldly; for if
worst came 10 worst, he thought, a
speedy death would be preferable to a
slow one.

The Sheik said, "I have read of such.
things but have never seen them.” He
was evidently in а benign mood today.
“I shall put you in a pit from which
even a panther could not escape, and
we shall see if your djuk can lift you
out . Ho, there!

So they lowered Juan Gutierrez into
an ancient stone grain pit. The deserts
of North Africa are full of such for-
ouen marvels; this pit might have been

thousand years old, or even older. It
was shaped roughly like a cone, wide at
the bottom, narrow at the top, and lined
with stone polished by the centuries.
“Fly out of th
Sheik gives you
shall hi 1 water every evening.
Personally, I think you'd be better off
buried alive to the neck in the sand —
the agony only lasts a day. that way.
Whistle up your djuk!”
n touched the stone floor of
in pit, and saw the guard push a
wooden lid into position over the aper-
ture, 25 feet пр. He sat down in total
darkness, try
navigator's ing bit of taking his
bearings, so first of all he tried to deter-
mine the size of the floor on which.
he found himself. Prisoners. 1 been
kept there before; there was a litter of
dried-up mutton bones. Marking a spot
with one of these, he measured. the cir-

est

food.

cumlerence of the floor, heel to toe,
and decided that it pproximately
63 fect. This meant that the diameter

of the floor must be 20 feet, more or less,
Ч ag „ very stiff
nd straight, with his heels in the angle
where floor and wall met, he measured
off about feet— which was his height
id marked the spot where his head
ted. Standing on this spot, he found
by raising his hands above his head
he could touch the wall of the pit with
his knuckles.
In his mind's cyc he made а sort of
diagram of a cross section of the conc;

ow, lyi on his 1

cl

as he visualized it, cight feet from the
floor on which he stood the diameter
would be about eight feet, more or less,
enough for him to suspend himself across,
as am alpinist ascends a rock chimney
or couloir.

If only he could find some little ledge
for his fingers to grip at that point!
But there у and he пай
nothing with which to make one, for
he had been stripped naked.

He sat again, wringing his brain for
some solution to this problem, but only

i nd. He re-
that he had

as а gift for
Mercedes, and these were now at the
bottom: of the sea de, th

it! It came into his mind vividly, now,
that someone had told him how the
patient Chinese cut this most obdurate
оГ stones by means of string and wet
sand.

Hc had plenty of sand, of thc finest
grittiest, which had drifted into
the pit. He had a little water. There
was no string, but he would use a bone!

He went to work at once, denying
himself the Тайе brackish water he so
ently craved. “Mercedes, Mercedes,
Mercedes,” he kept saving, over and over
gain. "One little fingerhold, for Mer-
cedes" sake!” The stone was mot jade,
but it was very hard; yet such was the
will of the man that if it had been soli
diamond he would have worn it down,
my friends!

On the 40th day the Sheik himself

deigned to shout down, “You
djuk do not seem to be do
after ай.” Juan managed to reply, chee
fully, “Oh, we have really important
matters to discuss, noble Sheik. ГП come
up shortly.
Djuk ог no djuk, you are a remark-
able fellow," said the Sheik, "and I am
really interested to see what happens to
you."

‘That evening Ше gui
lowered a little basket of food and water,
and this time Juan found a large lump
of sweet caramel with sesame seeds.
your djuk.” the guard explained, before
he pushed back the lid of the pi
ate everything to give himself str
for his little groove was now about six
inches long and half an inch deep, and
tonight he meant to make his attempt.

Having eaten and drunk all the
water, he slept until midnight, as nearly
as he could guess. Then he stood, 5
the wall, reached up, found his finger-
hold, and lifted himself. Т have told you
that he was very agile and strong. Now,
hope made him lighter and stronger.
He drew himself up to the level of his
shoulders, pushed upward and outward
with all his might, feeling in the dark-
ness with his toes. His feet touched
the opposite wall.

Inch by inch, at first, and then faster

and

1, as usual,

For

as the cone narrowed, Juan Gutierrez
worked his way upward: and thankful
he for his horny fingers and his
sailors muscles!
And ас last Не was under the wooden
lid. It was not locked — who would waste
locks on such a dungeon? He pushed.
It lifted. He crawled out, silently lower-
ing the lid back into place. The sentry
was squatting on his haunches, fast
asleep. Juan thought of knocking him
on
arms ash for liberty. But
he did not know where he was, so where
was he to тип? He therefore whistled
shrilly, and the man awoke, spun round,
nd let out a great shout. The
Bedouins awakened and came running.

“How is this?” asked the Shei
the sentry swore that Juan had been
whisked out of the pit before his very
eyes, which lie suited Juan very well
indeed. The Shick had him washed and
Your djuk seems to have scratched

her badly
a very rough djuk,
Juan; which was true, since djuk is
Gypsy for destiny.

Having feasted him, then, they led him
up a long spiral staircase in the ruins
where they camped, and put him into
a little room with one small unshuttered
window. Pointing to this, the Sheik said,
“You are free to come and go as you
please, with your djuk- It is only 40 feet
down to the soft sand.

Then they left him. Juan looked out
of the window. The Sheik had not licd;
the soft sand was no more than 40 feet
below. But between Juan and the sand
the wall was planted at various intervals
with huge iron hooks, rusted to needle
points, and of varving sizes. The nearest
row of hooks was 15 feet below Ше
window, which was so set back that
a man might not jump clear.

He had heard of this horrid device
from another sailor. The Moors would
simply drop a criminal from the top of
the wall, and wherever the point of a
hook took him, there the hapless wretch
would hang, until death released him

Now if I had only six feet of rope!
thought Juan Gutierrez, But he had
nothing. He was still naked, and his
cell was bare. He sat, disconsolate, think-
ing of all the ropes he had ever handled
—hemp and coir, grass and rawhide,
horsehair — Horsehair! His own hair, di-
sheveled, hung 18 inches long! He had
watched the herdsmen plait halters of
hair when he was a child, and his mind,
as we know, was strong to retain. He
had heard somewhere that there were
as many as 100,000 hairs on a huma
head. His own hair was dense, coarse
and healthy. What more did he need?

Without delay he set about pluckir
his scalp, hair by hair,
thin but very strong cord.

In six weeks he мау completely bal

nd plaiting а

123

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but his cord was made,

It never occurred to his captors to
notice amy change in his appearance —
they had seen too many men whom they
had kept locked up lose hair, teeth and
sanity, too. The Sheik, meanwhile,
anxious to see Juan's djuk in action —
Or not, as Ше case might be— had set
up a pavilion by Ше wall, where he sat
watching, smoking and drinking coffee.
But our Juan was not disposed to per-
form for any Sheik's amusement; besides
he had learned the value of a little
mystification.

So one night, while the Sheik slept,
he tied his hair cord to a bolt that had
once held a shutter hinge, and let him-
self down. Once standing on the first
hook, the rest was easy: he had only to
swing himself down, hand over hand,
from one hook to the next, so that in
two minutes he was standing unhurt on
the sand.

When the sun rose the Sheik came out
to praise Allah and Mohammed — and
there stood Juan Gutierrez!

Now the Bedouins were truly amazed.
“Join us with your djuk," the Sheik
said, "and you shall have high honor.
When Juan refused, the Sheik was of-
fended. “Then go,” he said, dressing
him in new clothes. “Take water, food
and a knife; go. I shall give you a day
and a night by way of start. On the
second day І and my men shall follow
you. Jf we catch you, you are mine. If
not, you arc free. It is à sportsm:
offer,” said the Sheik, stroking his hawk
“for you have your djuk, and we have
nothing but horses."

They let Juan Gutierrez go, then, and
he, waveling by the sun, went north
toward the sea. But he knew that his
chance of escape was negligible. The
going was slow in that soft sand, espe-
cially for an unmounted man. With only
a day’s start, he would surely be run
down by the Bedouin horsemen.

Notwithstanding the circumstances, his
heart beat high and light. Who che in
all the world could have escaped from
the pit of darl and the wall of
hooks? Almost he believed in the old
gypsy and her Watcher, and his own
stories of the socalled djuk— the desert
affects one like that. Thinking always of
Mercedes. he strode doggedly northward,

ness

where he knew the sea must be, pausing
only to sv
and a

low a mouthful of water
dates. He walked
nd on through thc
night. But when the second day broke
he knew that he was lost

He found himself in an utterly de-
serted village which had sprang up and
died long before by the ruins of an
ancient Roman fort. Here. under a
broken triumphal arch, savages had
penned goats; there, a villa had been
taken to make hut. In the
center of this place still stood а proud

handful of

pieces 10

column, raised in honor of some deity,
emperor or hero. The statue which it
might have supported was gone, but the.
column stood — chipped, battered, sand-
blasted, but firm.

By now, Juan reasoned, Sheik Sakr-el-
Drough and his horsemen would have set.
r hunt. His tracks would be
Where was he to hide? Hc did not
know. Can I bury myself? he asked him-
self, ironically. Then he was think
No, exactly the reverse — go up into the
sky. And, of course, the column was the
solution. If he could climb to the top
of it, and lie there, who would think of
looking for him?

He promptly took off his long robe,
his headdress and his boots and hid them
сас Шу under some stones. Barefoot,
clad only in wide cotton trousers with
his knife at his belt, he approached the
shaft of the column. To us it might have
seemed unscalable. To a mountaineer,
or an experienced sailor, the wind-worn
sections offered a multitude of finger-
and-toe-holds. He laid hold of the fluted
shaft, and began to climb. It was hard,
but he was used to hard tasks. Up the
shaft he swarmed, up and up to that
part of the column which curves gracc-
fully outward — the сута recta, as it is
called. Here, he had to stop

It was necessary at this point to make
a deadly decision. He could climb down
the way he had come up and trust to
the tender mercies of the Sheik: or he
could launch himself into the air, mak-
ing in the same instant a dosing clasp
knifc of his body while his long arms
strained for the corona of the column
—the very lip of the overhang.

If he missed, he was a dead man.

If he did not miss, he was a dead
man; for having reached the platform at
the top of the column, there were no
earthly means by which he could come
down again except by throwing himself
off.

He remembered the saying, If we
stand still we die, ij we go forward we
die — betler go forward. Calling on the
name of Mercedes, he leaped, and his
fingertips hooked the very brow of the
cornice.

He dragged himself up and lay, spent,
60 feet above the ground.

Soon, recovering a little, he
from present eminence he com-
manded а clear view of many miles of
the desert in every direction. He recog-
nized certain tiny puffs of smoke [ar to
the south as the dust of the Sheik’s
riders. The garding the eight-foot
square on which he was lying, he found
something wrong about it. What? The
Romans, in war at least, were а practical
people, he had learned. But do practical
soldiers build columns in the desert for
по reason — not even to support a statue?
‘There was nothing here but a green
bronze ring. He then saw that the ring

ng,

aw that

handle—to a cir-
cular bronze plate. He pulled at the
ring. The plate stirred. A wild excite-
ment surged through him. He pulled
steadily with all his might, and the
bronze plate swung up on a hinge.
The metal was discolored but still strong.
The plate was a trap door. The column
was hollow, and inside, at regular inter-
vals, were placed spikes for climbing up
or down. It was a Гогроцеп Roman ob-
servation post!

The Bedouins, when they came, were
amazed to find that Juan's tracks had
suddenly vanished. Then he called from
the тор of the column: “Ahoy, Sheik! I
пир here, and you are down there, зо
you have not caught me by a good 60
feet. Well?

Sakr-el-Drough marveled. Also, he was
somewhat afraid. He answered, “Certain
things are too wonderful for me. How
you got up there I do not know; but of
one thing I am certain — you cannot
climb down, unless your djuk carries you

was attached —

I before the moon

shall Бе down

said the Sheik,
“I will fill your hands with jewels and
give you safe conduct to the sea, for 1
have had enough truck with your djuk
and your wizardries.

So, at sunset, Juan made his way down
and found the panel in the die of the
column that opened like a door. It was
made to be unrecognizable as such from
the outside, but was casy to find from.
within. Knowing his pursuers would
all be gazing skyward in the dim light,
he boldly stepped out, Closing the door
behind him, and moving quietly as a
shadow, Juan appeared in the midst of
the Bedouins and said, “Here 1
Sheik.”

And the Sheik Sakr-el-Drough kept his
word. He ler Juan fill a pouch with
jewels from his hoarded plunder, and
gave him a good horse, and sent him
safely to the coast.

There he took passage to Bilbao,
where he sold half his jewels to a repu-
table dealer and, with the proceeds,
bought a sound merchant ship complete
with her cargo of Jogwood, renamed her
Mercedes, and sailed her south to
Ma

So Juan Gutierrez married his sw
heart and became the richest merchant
in the south of рай

am,

He had told me all this at
length. At last, the doors were opened,
and we sprang to our fect as the lady
Mercedes herself came in. Forty years
before, when she was 80 pounds lighter,
I dare say she might have been as Goya
painted her. However, I showered her
with compliments; but even as I did so,
I could see by the old gentleman's eye
that he was jealous still! And when I

some

took my leave, Gutierrez came with me
to the great gate, and when it was locked
after me the watchman handed him the
key, which he clutched tight his
tremendous hand.

So I went to my hotel, musing. This
strange character, who had cut stone
with sand and struggled out of impos-
sible pits, who had let himself out of
dungeons and down over walls of hooks
while hanging onto his own hair, who
had writhed up stark columns and
bered down again in the dark — all to
be his own jailer, in a prison of his
own making! Food for thought there, my
friends, food for thought . . .

nken said, some-
sad, is it not,

Adah Isaacs M.
what wistfully, “Ah, it i
to grow old and lose one’s beauty?"

"M. Dumas replied, ‘If in his eyes she
was young and beautiful still — then so
she was. But as for me, she was old
enough to be my mother. This was 30
rs ago; it's all опе, now.

T asked him, ñ

"Апа Señor Gutierrez?"
‘Oh,’ said M. Dumas, ‘soon after our
he had some business on the
It was at the height of summe
sweltering. At siesta hour,
ked toward his carriage. On the
way he had to pass an old man leading
а wretchedly overloaded horse carrying
unniers. The unfortunate animal
slipped on the cobblestones. Being badly
balanced, she fell bodily, sideways. Poor
Gutierrez, was in the way. So as she fell

in the street she broke his neck against
а post.”

“L said, ‘So much for djuks!"

"M. Dumas replied, ‘Indeed. The
peasant, or whoever he was, was terribly

upset. He shouted Help! Help! Nieva
has fallen upon the poor gentleman!
His horse, if washed, would have been
white, you sec, and so he called her
Nieva, nieve being Spanish for snow.
Gypsies can be so literal’

“Then, fearing that he might have
put me a little out of countenance, and
being the soul of good nature, M. Dum
soon put me at my ease by taking me
ide and, confessing that he had left
his purse at home, borrowing 10 napole-
ons.

“The hour being late, our pleasant
little party broke up, but I have en-
gaged to dine with M. Dumas again on
Friday.”

Here the ms. ended. I sat quietly, my
dinner long cold.

My young companion said, "Let's 20
back and see if Ciuccia has any more.

We did so. Ciuccia growled, "More
paper likea dat? 1 usa for tomato. Gooda
paper, holda juice. Allagone. What you
wanna for? No good — alla wrote on.

So we bought a geranium, and he
wrapped it in the Book Section of the

Times.

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126

GIRLS OF RONMOE (continued from page 90)

senses known as la dolce vita Romano.
For the visiting American male in
Rome, a single stride from the carpeted
hush of his downtown hotel into the
swirling slipstream of Roman foot traf-
fic is sufficient to dispel any lingering
doubts about the principal reason for
and most eloquent embodiment of this
suavely sensuous spirit: the girls of
Rome.

As the male visitor ambles through
the ancient streets — clamorous with car
horns, clanging trams, screeching brakes,
clip-clopping carriages, tolling church
bells, stentorian newsdealers, bricklay-
ers whistling the latest Domenico Mo-
dugno hit, rock 'n' roll cannonading
from open windows — tlic girls swirl and
eddy past in an endless stream, as ob-
livious of the din as of the florid com-
pliments strewn in their paths by
amiably impertinent Roman men. Con-
ditioned — and understandably partial
—10 the Sophia Loren image of the
Italian woman as an almond-eyed, wide-
mouthed, bounteously beamed and bos-
omed sex symbol, the visiting American
be delightfully disarmed by the
polyglot variety of Roman girls.

Like Sophia, the trafficstopping, ebon-
haired madonna strolling along the
Tiber will have the satiny olive skin,
the opulent endowment, and probably
the colloquial dialect endemic to south-
ern Italy. The willowy blonde emerging
with a hatbox from a downtown dress
shop, on the other hand, with her
fine-boned features, luminously white
complexion, wraithlike figure and or-
dinarily impeccable Roman syntax, is
as likely to be an emigrant from north-
em Italy as from Scandinavia, Abhorring
n of Ameri-
an hair styles, they have
imparted to the poodle, pageboy, bouf-
fant and beehive coiffures a
artful disarray, a studied carelessness
which is peculiarly Italian and somchow
natural-looking, despite the exacting
care (and considerable quantities of
spray net) involved in their creation.
Many Roman girls, however, eschewing
Ше latest fashions, elect to wear their
hair luxuriandy long and flow
achieving a spontancity less contrived
and equally engaging. Resisting the
temptation to bedaub their faces w
the cosmetic industrys vast arra
rouges, powders and

certain

ешр adiant complexions,
plus a thin line of black to accent
ready enormous eyes.

Shopgirls and зо
coeds, stand-ins and starlets, maids and
mannequins, В girls and ballerinas — all
are enthusiastically engaged in Italy's
second-ranking national pastime (after
ig): the passeggiata. Everyone in

tes, cashiers and.

Rome does it, and they seem to be do-
ing it most of the time. More than a
stroll, less than a promenade, it is a
kind of purposeful wandering — more
for its own sake than with any fixed des-
tination in mind — performed with an
indefinably theatrical air, as if all the
city were a stage, and all its men and
women players. As played by Rome's
guilclessly unself-conscious girls — unen-
cumbered by girdles—it ranks de-
servedly among the city's major spectator.
sports for male pedestrians. Unlike the
demure walk of most American girls, it
begins at the hips rather than the knees,
ng the gently undulating sway
which inspired a casc-hardened visi
ing Hollywoodian to observe recently
that the Roman girl in departure
"makes Vikki Dougan look like Spring
Byington.” Not unexpectedly, this softly
swiveling gait bespeaks a temperament
both ardent and voluptuous. Like their
city, the girls of Rome are essentially
emotional both in allure and іп
orientation,

Lamentably, males who may be enter-
taining the intriguing notion of sowing
a few oats are barking up the wrong
libido, For despite her temperament,
Coquettishness, eye-popping fuselage
and sensuous propensities, the average
Italian girl, even in worldly Rome, is
characterized by an equally passionate
devotion to the spirit. She will almost
js conduct herself around men with
an unswerving propriety — inspired and
stained by her deep-rooted dedication
to family and Church — which keeps her
pure in fact, if not entirely in heart,

таг

Jn effect, then, the family fortress is
virtually impregnable to any but those
in search of permanent liaisons. Roman
girls customarily respond to all but the
most formal and diplomatic introduc
tion with icy disregard, or with a para
lyzing stare known locally as "the ray."
In consequence, most of Rome's single
men turn elsewhere for casual com-
panionship and noncommittal diversion.
Some surrender to the citys well
equipped infanuy of approachable
streetwalkers. But many more prefer to
ternize with golden hordes of foreign
girls—once a commodity borne to
Rome by its plundering legions — who
now pour into the Eternal City of their
own from Scandinavia,
ngland, America,
even from the Near and Far East. With
lent ambiance of serene an-
tiquity and vibrant modernity, the city
almost always transcends their most ex-
wavag; ions. And if the men,
i alt the mem-
ory of Giovanni Casanova, are some-
times direct in d — resorting
less to the expected bonbons, poetry

and flowers than to stage-whispered
street-corner compliments and carefully
administered pinches for an opening
gambit— there is at least no room for
doubt about the nature of their interest.

Unlike New York or London, with
their sharply dclincated enclaves for
every class and clique, residential Rome
is a patchwork quilt of loosely
woven socioeconomic threads: artists and
white-collar workers, nobility and hoi
polloi not infrequently share the same
Street, if not the same wall. Certain
neighborhoods, of course, are more pop-
ular with one group than another — not.
because they're currently "in" or "out

п" or
— but simply because of common in-
comes, interests, occupations, architec-
tural tastes and scenic preferences. Many
of the city’s landed and titled gentry,
for instance, guard their well-bred and
usually inbred future heiresses behind
high ivied walls in the tapestried sa
tuaries of monolithic Renaissance pa-
lazzi along stately, tree-lined Via del
Corso in the heart of town, or nearby in
the sedate elegance of Piazza dei Santi
Apostoli.

On a somewhat less grand scale,
Rome's more prosperous merchants and
prominent literati — daughters in tow —
occupy opulent niches in the ultramod-
ern terraced apartment buildings of Eur,
a parklike purlieu on the other side of
town.

Middle-income families, and the Поп-
ess" share of the city's single girls, seule
uptown and downtown, north, south,
st and west — wherever they feel most
at home—but mostly in burgeoning
low-rent residential areas outside the
1700-year-old Aurelian Wall, whose
crumbling battlements still enclose much
of the old city and its old families. Some
Keep cats, read De Lampedusa in paper-
back, and listen to Frescobaldi on the
üdst the antimacassars and
beaux-arts decor of ixon-gated 19th Ce
tury brownstones in Prati, а picturesque
precinct just north of Vatican City’s
domes and spires.

The vast majority of Вопез arti:
cally inclined are to be found vying
with one another for damp basements,
musty garrets and cramped studios
within a tiny downtown domain — far
more compact in area and complex in
n Greenwich Village, its
closest sociological facsim
on the west by the staid mansions of
the Via del Corso; on the north by the
Piazza di Spagna, whose flower-mantled
Spanish Steps the unattached young
men and women of the city scem to
have made their unofficial headquartets,
winter or summer, day or night; on the

south by the coin-tossing tourists at the

Fontana di Trevi; and on the cast by
that spangled strip of high-rent real
estate, the Via Veneto. A broad boule-
vard lined with bristling newsstands,

chic shops, elegant hotels, colorful flower
Is and assorted. sidewalk. ristoranti,
Irallorie and. caffés, it is Rome's mecca
for the smart set, the movie crowd, the
idle rich, the decadent aristocracy, the
tourist legions, the bohemian settlement,
the limp wrist persuasion. the flesh. ped-
dlers and the omnipresent, flashbulb.
popping paperazzi.

As with their choice of pad, Rome's
signorinas couldn't conceive of ар:
proaching the matter of job-hunting
med with the Manhattan girl's scien:
appraisals of status
ud opportunities for advance-

values
ment. Those who work are less likely

to pick one job over another because
of its fashionability than because of
economic necessity and personal. predi-
lection. They tend to regard their jobs
as little more than а promising, socially
ceptable environment for meeting
eligible men, and as а useful and usu-
ally enjoyable source of interim income
to cover costs between adolescence and
matrimony.

For girls of e

the
after profession is its
proliferating то industry,

currently engaged in a Roman orgy ОГ
moviemaking — 200 features last year —
an films to а
role of electric worldwide importance
have not enjoyed since the
of Like
drug store for aspiring Lana
of bygone days, the chic side-
walk caffés of the Via Veneto have be-
come hangouts for the would-be Lollo-
brigidas and Loreus of the Continent.
They preen and promenade, sit, cross
their legs and sip cappuccino at con-
spicuous sidewalk tables, all in the hope
that one of the architects of Italy's cine-
atic renaissance — Fellini, Antonioni,
Visconti, Ponti, Козеши
Laurentiis — will stop for an aperitivo,
notice them, aud sign them up on the
spot lor a bit part.

The brightest, and some say the
most fragrantly enduring, of Rome's
infinitely varied crop of blossoms are
those nurtured not Ше overrich,
underproductive soil of Roman nobil-
ity, but the fertile intellectual earth
of its upper-middle income families.
Along with the city’s colony of misses,
mesdemoiselles, Fräulein and flickas
from abroad, they are v ly alone
among their contemporaries in. knowl-
edge of and concern the worlds
of art, music, literature, theater and
cinema. Though they often chafe about
not being able to live in bustling. pros
perous Milan — hub of Italy's theatrical,
operatic, art and publishing worlds —
most arc content to make the best of
opportunities offered in the capital,
which are very good indeed. А goodly
number from these two groups become
executive secretaries for Rome's assorted

with

njandrums; or
bi- and trilingual interpreters for various
international corporations, travel agen-
cies or even in Italy's diplomatic serv-
ice. But most of these cultivated
creatures gravitate to the arts, finc and
otherwise.
ost of Rome's working girls, how.
ever, ble col-
lege and tutoring tuitions which qualify
the daughters of betterfixed families
for skilled jobs in the upper-middle eche-
lons of the art, fashion and communi-
cations worlds. An abundance of
nolessenjoyable, if somewhat less-pres-
tigious, positions is available to the
majority possessing only secondary school
diplomas and a pocketful of dreams. The
qualifications include little more than
friendliness, courtly manners, good
p. quick intel and а
of humor—a description which
fis more than cnough of Rome's re-
markable girls to create a waiting list
for almost every desirable post.

Many of these signorinas work

п ill afford the conside

gence

sales-

girls and. cashiers in the exclusive em.
poriums of the Piazza di Spagna or the
Condotti. Rome's 300-yard-long
fth Avenue. Others labor as manicur-
Alitalia desk clerks, nu
ssistants, receptionists,

ses’ aides,
typists,
ard operators and the like.
Perched on a lower rung of Rome's
economic ladder are a group of girls
who have known few of the social or
scholastic advantages enjoyed (and їп
some cases, ignored) by the daughters of
well- or even modestly heeled families.
Some are self-supporting emigrés from
the provinces, but most are native Ro
mans who live at home and take jobs
10 supplem ger family incom
as salesgirls in trinket shops; cashiers
neighborhood movie houses; maids in
hotels and well-todo homes; seamstresses
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waitresses in small caffés and trattorie:
ette, hatcheck and sometimes В
girls in the downtown night clubs.
Imported a seve
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d indigenous

127

PLAYBO!Y

128

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the social barrier into an age-old voca-
tion pioneered under the arches of an-
cient Rome. Evicted in 1958 from the
pillowed and mirrored comfort of nu-
merous bordellos, the city's flourishing
strumpet population — even larger, some
estimate, than that of pleasure-oriented
Paris or London—energetically espouses
the tenets of individual enterprise in
the maze of side streets surrounding the
tourist-thronged Via Veneto. Most, in the
time-honored tradition of the trade, offer
their familiar wares — for prices ranging
from $5 to $30, according to the nature
and duration of services required — in
dimly lit doorways adjoining no-luggage
transient hotels. But a few of the girls
cruise up and down the avenues in
white Alfa-Romeos — following Ше ex-
ample of Milan's renowned “Klaxon
girls’ — scanning the pavements for
$100 passengers with a yen for diversions
in secluded

On foot or
these amiably signorinas
difficult to avoid; but the discriminating
traveler, the Eternal City as else-
where, prefers the challenge of the chase
— which the infinitely varied, irrepress
ibly vivacious girls of Rome manage to
make а merry one indeed. It can end in
ng on the per-
; but it always
In the benign flush
nd сапу autumn
(the most salubrious and opportune sca-
sons for a Roman holiday), they adorn
the parks and squares of the city as
ubiquitously as the oleander and bou-
пуШаса which line its boulevards.
Lounging on the Spanish Steps, window-
shopping along the Via Condotti, sip-
ping espresso in sidewalk caffés, they
offer Ше urbane visitor a unique oppor-
tunity for a field survey.

Whatever his preference, the accepted
icebreaker is an invitation to share an
aperitivo (the closest Roman facsimile
to Ше cocktail, which is virtually un-
known) in some nearby cajfé ог bottig-
Цена. At such occasions — before lunch,

thorns or clover, depend:

n sunlight

between 1:30 and 2:30, being the best
time for making friends — the unive

drink vermouth, served оп the
rocks, ог with bitters. After
an hou ual
small talk, most It xcuse

luncheon

dutiful
home with their families. If one’s com-

themselves for a

panion
from abro;

self-supporting emigrant
1 or rural Italy, however,
the acquaintance can often be pleasantly
prolonged with a repast in one of the
city's epicurean array of restaurants.
And afterward, а leisurely passeggiata
— arm in arm, if the liaison is going well,

The unhurried Medit
flows on into the evenin
th escorts and without — repopulate
the canopied tables of the sidewalk
cafés for a lingering pr

zano or vermouth cassis in the gathering
twilight. And then, with a ceremonious
pleasure which Anglo-Saxons often Гай
to fathom, they begin — around 9:30 or
10 р.м. — that protracted Italian ritual
known as cena: dinner. Heirs of a 2500-
year heritage of Lucullan cuisine, Ro-
mans lavish more time and love on the
preparation, consumption and discus-
sion of food than perhaps any other
people in the world.

Most of Rome's formal entertaii
ments theater, opera, concerts begin
after 9:30, or feature Tate performances.
Few Roman girls, however — apart from
the college-bred and the foreign settle
ment — can be expected to relish the in-
tellectual wit and satire of the Roman
stage, to know a basso from a coloratura,
or even to stay awake through a mooi
light performance of Gregorian chants
by the renowned Academy of Santa С
ilia in the Roman Forum, Native girls,
for the most part, prefer their amuse-

схе, contemporary and
In the city’s clamorow
crowded cabarets, they seem to enjoy
nothing more than squeezing onto post-
agestamp dance floors to pay homage to
the latest dance fad from the U.S.A
Beneath the pleated silk ceiling of La
Сарай, Rome’s most elegant and exclu-
sive club (upstairs from the Hosta
dell'Orso}, they will implore their es

corts to join them in grinding out the
Pachanga. Rugatino, scene of the his-
toric Anita Ekberg incident, has since

achieved an even higher destiny
red-white-and-green-st
Manhattan's

а
iped version of
Peppermint Loun i

patrici ngle freely
sipping twodollar drinks and perform-
ing the Twist. Those more progressively
but less eymnastically inclined make the

ns and proletarians ш

cool scene in the Grotto dei Piccoioni,
zza di

just off the Pi па. In open
with their H unabashed
Old World romantics often spin out to
posh Palazzi, an opulent colonnaded
mansion overlooking the entire sweep
of the city from Monte Mario, where
they can drink toasts Viennese style and
tango on the terrace until dawn.

The single le male, how-
ever, finds his way into the cavernous
neon pleasure | neto —
Il Pipistrello, Пу Club, the Florida
and their ilk— frankly pick-up spots
for pros.

Embodying the somehow compatible
contradictions of Коте turbulent past
nd peripatetic present, the Roman

paradoxical creature of myr
mingled bloods: serene yer volatile,
sensual yet spiritual, naive yet worldly

etemally alluring yet eternally

inviting the admiration of the
vcler, often — but thankfully
not always —only from afar.

ded sir

PLAYBOY ALL-STARS

(continued from page 83)

Live music on ТУ, after struggling
through the summer with the wispy nos.
talgia of Glenn Miller Time, featuring
Ray McKinley's reincarnation of the
Miller band, had a welcome fall revival
on Steve Allen's show via ABC, with as
sorted jazz guests performing on Steve's
dependably hip level. A Westinghouse
latenight series, PM East — PM West,
helped to balance the musical aridity of
Jack Paar's stanzas (as witnessed by the
complete anonymity of stellar trumpet
n Clark Terry in Ше José Melis stu-
dio band) by offering intelligent presen-
tations of Basie, Buddy Rich, the MJQ,
Mulligan and the like. In Hollywood,
glory-roader Mahalia Jackson, backed by
а combo including Barney Kessel and
Red Mitchell, filmed 78 five minute pro-
grams for TV use. Playboy's Penthouse
went along
way propagating the type of talent too
seldom seen in these days of mass
oriented video: Cal Tjader, Kai Wind-
ing, Brubeck, Krupa, Diz, Basie, Joe
Williams, Lambert, Hendricks & Ross.
Late in the year, an NBC special, Ghi-
cago and АН That Jazz, recreated the
Windy Gity's haleyon days with such
two-beat practitioners ав Eddie Condon,
Bud Freeman, Pee Wee Russell, Johnny
t. Cyr, Buster Bailey and Red Allen.
Radio had very little live jazz of con-
sistent content. Far and away the best
offerings were those of Dick Hyman's
ruggedly nonconformist combo hipping
housewives every morning on CBS"
Arthur Godfrey show with Monk- and
ed origi

n its broadly syndicated

s. The jocks, by
‚ were in statu quo, with the
M breth-

ren in tasteful programing.

The leg always а rare and

transi
'cr-composer-playwright Oscar Brown,
Jr's first stage production, the musically
hip Kicks & Go., collapsed in a pre
Broadway Chi Bobby Scott's
perceptive jazz score for A Taste of
Honey was much more of a plus sign

Our cautious comments last. year on
the subject of jazz festivals were not pre-
mature. Newport, which almost didn't
make it at all, finally put on a show, run
by а non-Wein group. It wasn't profita-
ble; neither was Randall's Island; neither
were Bullalo, Evansvill nd most of
the other major U.S, festivals,

The k
rule was Monterey, where ihe fourth an-
nual convention not only broke finan-
cial records by grossing over 5100.000 in
five shows, but also maintained its ad-
mirable standard of esthetic resource-
fulness under the shrewd direction of
deejay Jimmy Lyons. Detroit, too, had
successful festival on а modest scale

trou

maj

br exception to the red

А good deal less festive was the fact that
jazz їп 1901 had become а sociopolitical
battleground. Negro musicians, militantly
proud of their heritage, showed through
their music and their word:
ness of the world scene.

While a dozen newly liberated African
nations took their seats at the UN, al
bums such as Freedom Sound by the Jazz
Crusaders, Uhuru (Freedom) Africa by
Randy Weston, Africa Brass by John Col
trane, titles such a rlie Mingus’
Prayer for Passive Resistance and M:
Roach's Tears for Johannesburg, t
to the musicians’ growing involvement.
The Lumumba riots at the UN found.
the LP team of drummer Max Roach
and jazz singer Abbey Lincoln promi
nent among the demonstrators. Like
many Negroes who had suffered through
white chauvinism, they had turned the
coin over to reveal
Negro nationalism. Roach, co-composer
with Oscar Brown, J
Now suite, astounded a Carnegie. Hall
audience when, interrupting Miles Davis
in mid-solo, he sprang on stage and raised
banners demanding African freedom.
At the Monterey festival, Dizzy Gilles-
pie played compositions inspired Бу
Alrican countries

Diz kept his combo mixed, but in
other jazz circles there were signs that
integration wa 1$ to disintegration
‘There wasa conspicuous growth in the re-
verse prejudice known as Crow Tim. as
the antiwhite, often anti-Jewish, Black
Muslim movementgained strength among
Negro musicians, and fans tended to
equate authenticity and soul with dark
pigmenta “Racial now
drawn more strongly tl before
jazz” observed syndicated columnist
Ralph Gleason, “Clubs ате reluctant to
hire any white groups except the top
few . .. because they will not draw the
jazz fans. . .. Eastern record companies
have turned down. nationally known
white musicians because they were the
wrong color.

Negroes workin
well Cannonball Adderley,
Hamilton and others who had hired
white sidemen) were subjected to caustic
third-degreeing: “Why do you work with
these white cats? Get with the mov nt
— stay with your own!" The promising
white trumpet star Don Ellis, after work
ind living in harmony with Negroes
in the U.S. Army in Germany, felt the
chill as soon as he came home, estimated
that anti Caucasianism in jazz exceeded
nti-Negro feeling tenfold.
Happily, for every brooding mani
tation of Crow Jim, there were su
developments. The new Nego found his
place not only on the bandstand but
behind the desk: as A&R man (Quincy
Jones at Mercury), production company
owner (JulNat Enterprises, founded by
the Adderley brothers), big-time restau

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129

PLAYBOY

130

‘Stems

“I can’t stand crowds.”

rateur (Ahmad Jamal's previously men-
tioned Alhambra in Chicago), personal
manager (John Levy, by 1961 the most
powerful in all of jazz), record company
operator (Ewart Abner of Vee Jay), show
promoter (Andrew Mitchell, who pre-
sented Ray Charles to the first inte-
prated audience in Memphis history)
and in almost every other major and
minor executive capacity in jazzdom.
On records it was a big ycar for costly
and ambitious multi-LP projects, mainly
in the form of “Story” albums such as
The Count Basie Story, The Birdland
Story, The Big Bill Broonzy Story, The
Nat "King" Cole Story, The Fletcher
Henderson Story. With LPs rolling off the
sembly line like 16th notes cascading
an Os Peterson out-chorus, the ex-
posure offered to young talents came
sooner and morc casily than ever. Note-
worthy in a long list of important new
(or newly heard-from) names were Miles
Davis protégé: flute, alto, and almost

any other reed man Paul Horn, leading

attractive modal-mood quintet: trum-
peters Carmell Jones, Don Ellis, Richard
Williams and Freddie Hubbard; saxo-
phonists Eric Dolphy (alto), Stanley Tur-

rentine (tenor) and Marvin Holliday
(baritone); the phenomenal guitarist
Grant Green, a St. Louis blue streak;

and the 23-year-old vibist Mike Mainieri
of Buddy Ridh’s quintet.

John Coltrane became a leading (and
ofttimes controversial) topic of conver-
sation in jazz circles as he made the club
circuit with his quartet, recorded for the
first е with his own big band, and
acquired an auxiliary reputation by
switching occasionally from tenor to so-
prano saxophone. Lydian-mode architect
George Russell, peering around the cor-
ner to infinity, made headway with his
thriving infant sextet. Sonny Rollins,
entering his third year of self-imposed
retirement, finally debuted, at the
11th hour, a quartet at New York's Jazz
Gallery.

The most remarkable combo of the
year, and almost any year for that mat-
ter, was formed several months ago whe
Philly Joe Jones joined the Miles Dav
Quintet, Philly Joe, with J. J. Johnson
and Miles, made a glittering uiumvir
of this year’s Playboy Jazz Poll winners.

Vocally, it was a shouting, stomping
season. Big Мі (Monterey, 1960 and
1961) contributed valuably to Jon Hen-
dricks’ unique narrative Evolution of
the Blues on a Columbia ТР. Nancy
Wilson had everything working for her:
cool beauty and an individual sound to
match, plus LP

te

by teaming with Stan
Kenton on an LP and ended it by sui
for divorce, continued to develop as a

jazz singer of power and conviction;
Aretha Franklin, a teenaged John Ham-
mond find, stepped right out of the New

Jersey churches into the world of gospel-
jazz, and Carol Sloane, unknown unti
her surprise capture of the crowd at
Newport, joined the top stratum of jazz-
oriented pop singers. That stratum once
n included the irrepressible Judy
nd, who defied the laws of gravity
by bounci k higher than ever with
ап unbe s ul concert tour
and a best-selling LP, Judy at Carnegie
Най.

While it gained an impressive roster
of new names, jazz lost many long-estab-
lished major contributors. The усаг
toll was ded by Mifl Mole, first real
trombone soloist of jazz history, and
Nick La Rocca, trumpeter and founder
of the Original Dixieland Jazz Band.
Also lost wi Armstrong's long-
time vocalist Middleton, who
died in Africa; and the swing-era arranger
ndy Gibson. Four tragically premature
deaths were recorded. Vibraphonist and
ор Lem Winchester, 32, killed him-
self while toying too confidently with a
gun; the brilliant 25-year-old bassi:
Scott La Faro perished о acci-
dent; trumpeter Booker Little, 23, died
suddenly in a New York hospital; Don
Barbour, 33, founder of the Four Fresh-
men, who had quit the group in 1959 to
work as a single, perished in a car crash
on the Hollywood Freew

On the big-band front, the event of
the year was the March unveiling of
Stan Kenton’s well-trained new crew,
with its section of clephant horns, more
accurately known as mellophoniums.
Benny Goodman and Woody Herman
fronted parttime big bands; Ellington
and Basie, though shaken by personnel
vals, still clung to Ше upper eche-
Ions in musical achievement and popular
esteem. Ocie Smith temporarily filled the
Basi spot left vacant in January
by Joe Williams. Quincy Jones, fresh
out of headache pills, had to give up the
regular band-leading bit in midsummer.

The trend toward а jazz-classical mer-
ger was impressively manifest in such
works as John Graas’ Jazz Symphony
No. 1, recorded years ago in Europe but

сп its first U.S. in-person hearing last
year in Beverly Hills. John Lewis was
responsible for a ballet score, Original
Sin. The composer of the year was J. J.
Johnson. His Perceptions, long enough
to cover е LP (and it did, оп
Verve), was commissioned by Dizzy Gil-
lespie, who premiered it to stunning
effect at Monterey.

The teaching of jazz continued its
sharp ascent. By late 1961 close to 6000
of America’s 30,000 high schools had
faculty-supervised dance bands. The Stan
Kenton clinics of the National Band
Camp project, with many of his best
known alumni on the faculty, expanded
from one to three campuses (Indiana
U, Michigan State, SMU). Oscar Peter-
son's music school in Toronto stretched

n en

its course from four to five months, with.
Peterson, Ray Brown and Ed Thigpen
in residence. In New York, pianist-
teacher John Меһерап enlarged his
Juilliard and Columbia U classe:

Record sales, according to our annual
check with Billboard fles and cross-
checks with other dependable sources,
indicated that the 10 top-selling instru-
mental jazz artists of the year all hewed
curiously to the top half of the alpha-
bet, as follows: Cannonball Adderley,
with African Waltz and others on River-
side; Gene Ammons with Jug and Boss
Tenor оп Prest Brubeck with
Time Out on а (from which
Paul Desmond's 5/4 composition Take
Five became an unexplained Ви with
the teen set); Ray Charles with a whole
five-foot shelf of albums on ABC-Para-
mount, Impulse and Atlantic; Miles
Davis with his two-volume At ihe Black-
hawk on Columbi e Fountain for
the LP named after his club, Fountain's
French Quarter on Coral; Erroll Garner,
whose Dreamstreet on ABC-Paramount
was his first new set in three years;
Eddie Harris’ Exodus оп Vee Jay; Al
Hirt's Greatest Horn in the World on
Victor: and Hank Mancini, with Mr.
Lucky Goes Latin on Victor.

Toward year’s end, musicians and afi-
cionados tuned in to втлувоу and jazz
d to tell the former their prefer-
their choices

were а:

ences in the latter, namin
a terms of the artists’ prev 12
months’ activities. As has been an an-

nual custom since 1957, the winners of
the PLAYmo readers’ poll, which again
showed a record-breaking tally of total
votes cast, were assigned a seat of honor
behind the mythical music stands of the
1962 Playboy All-Star Jazz Band. The
musi themselves
in the 1961 poll were asked to name
their own favorites in cach category:
their balloting gave us our list of All-
Stars’ All-Stars. Once n there were
similarities and divergences between
readers’ and musicians’ choices; agai
both sets of winners will be awarded the
much-prized Playboy Jazz Medals.

Jazz artists who won honors in 1961
and were thus cligible to vote in the
* own segment of the election

ns who wer ners

Bob Brookmeyer, Ray Brown,
ve Brubeck, М Davis, Buddy De-
ul Desmond, Duke Ellington,
Ella Fitzgerald, Stan Getz, Dizzy Gilles-
pie, Benny Goodman, Lionel Hampton,
, Milt Jackson, J. J.
Johnson, Jonah Jones, Philly Joe Jones,
Stan Kenton, Barney Kessel, Dave Lam-
bert, Shelly Manne, Gerry Mulliga
Oscar Peterson, Frank Sinatra, Jack Т.
garden and Kai Winding.
ALL-STARS’ ALL-STAR LEADER: For the
third time in a row, Duke Fllington
took the nod over Count Basie; the two

131

PLAYBOY

132

perennials had the field almost
ll to themselves. Gerry Mulligan spring-
ded [rom a tie for sixth a year ago
io third place. 1. Duke Ellington; 2.
Count Basie; 3. Gerry Mulligan; 4.
Maynard Ferguson; 5. Quincy Jones,
Stan Kenton.

ALL-STARS’ ALLSTAR TRUMPET: Once
again Diz and Miles made it a private
contest, and once again Dizzy came out
оп top for the third time running. Diz
and Miles left the slimmest of pickings
for the rest of the troops, with Clark
z enough for third place;
E spread paper
thin, producing a six-way tie among
Dick Collins, Kenny Dorham, Art
Farner, Maynard Ferguson, Don Goldie
and Jack Sheldon, none of them rece
ng enough votes to rate а listing. 1. Dizzy
Gillespie; ?. Miles Па 3. Clark Terry

ALLSTARS ALLSTAR TROMBONE: J. J.
Johnson, bone specialist extraordinaire,
5 in all Playboy Jazz Polls past, domi
nated both the readers’ and musicians’
yoting. Bob Brookmeyer remained firmly
entrenched in the second slot, while
Urbie Green advanced from fifth to third
to displace veteran Jack Teagarden.
1. J. J. Johnson; 2. Bob Brookmeyer: 3.
Urbie Green; 4. Jack Teagarden; 5. Cur-
tis Fuller, Bill Harris.

ALLSTARS’ ALL-STAR ALTO sax: Cannon-

ball Adderley breezed into first place
by а handsome margin. But Ellington
stalwart Johnny Hodges, unplaced in
last year's All-Stars’ All-Star ballotin
came out of nowhere to take second spot,
while Lee Konitz squeezed into a three-
way tie for third with Paul Desmond
nd Sonny Stitt. 1, Cennenball Adderley;
2. Johnny Hodges; 3. Paul Desmond, Lee
Konitz, Sonny Stitt.
ALLSTARS’ ALLSTAR TENOR SAX: In а
tance-lends-enchantment turnabout,
"patriate Stan Getz returned to this
country this past year only to have his
шзсрисе crown removed by John Col-
vane, Stan dropped back into a th
tier пе with Coleman Hawkins, while
Zoot Sims remained steadfastly in second
place, 1. John Coltrane; 2. Zoot Sims; 3.
Stan Geu, Coleman Hawkins; 5. Ben
Webster.

ALL-STARS’ ALL-STAR BARITONE ХА:
ghty Mr. Mulligan still reigns su-
on baritone, but Harry Carney
made a solid showing to hold on to sec-
ond place, while Pepper Adams, the
Detroit strongman, kept his third slot.
1, Gerry Mul a
Pepper
Hood.

ALL-STARS’ ALL-STAR CLARINET; In an
amazingly static display of status, posi
tions one through four were facsimiled
from last year, with Buddy DeFranco
reed and shoulders above the rest. 1,
Buddy DeFranco; 2. Benny Goodman; 3.
Jimmy бїшї immy Hamilton.

ALL-STARS" ALL-STAR PIANO: Oscar Peter-
son copped the crown once more as the

di

Ihe

mu

ns’ piano favorite, but Bill Evans,
displaying surprising strength, almost
scored an upset The rest of the ficld
was scattered. sparingly behind. 1
Peterson; 2. Bill Eva 3. Erroll
4. Thelonious Monk; 5. Dave Brubeck.

ALL-STARS ALL-STAR GUITAR: For
first time since the Playboy
ception, Barney Kessel has been up-
ded аз the musicians’ chick guitar man;
Wes Montgomery jumped from third
to the Number One spot with Barney
dropping down a notch. Jim Hall
slipped to third in the reshuffling. 1. Wes
2. Barney Kessel; 3. Jim
nny Burrell; 5. Herb Elli

ALL-STARS” ALL-STAR BASS: The redoubt-
able has, it appears, estab-
hed a permanent base on bass—our
readers and mus concurring once
more on his peerless qualities. Miles’
able Paul Chambers retained second po-
sition, while elder statesman Milt Hinton
moved up from fourth to third place.
As George Duyivier plummeted from
sight, Percy Heath and Sam Jone:
popped up in a tie for fourth. Red
Mitchell, last year's fifth-place holder,
Jeft the listings because of the tie for
fourth. 1. Ray Brow
3. Milt Hinton; 4.
Jones.

ALL-STARS’ ALL-STAR DRUMS: Philly Joe
Jones, who ascended to Ше musicins’
drum throne last year, proved his mettle
to make it two in a row. Art Blakey
remained in second, while Buddy Rich
rose to a third-place Че with Brubeck
percussionist Joe Morello, forging ahead
о Mel Lewis, who dropped from third
to fifth. Shelly Manne, who slipped from
first to fourth last year, гап out of the
money this time around, even though it
was by a scant few votes. 1, Philly Joe Jones;
2. Art Blakey; 3. Joe Morello, Buddy
Rich; 5. Mel Lewis.

ALLSIARS ALLSTAR MISCELLANEOUS.
SIRUMENT: Bags’ groove, to quote a Milt
Jackson tune title, was very much his
fellow musi as the MJQ's
vibes luminary mopped up the opposi-
tion once more. Second place held some
surprises, though, as flutist Frank Wess
а virtuoso Jean “Toots”
ns, both unmentioned a year
go, split the honors. John Coltrane's
есеп. explorations оп the soprano sax
brought him a fourth-place tie h status
quo Lionel Hampton. 1. Mil Jackson,
; 2. Joan “Toos” Thiclemans, har-
monica, Frank Wess, flute; 1. Lionel
Hampton, vibes, John Coltrane, soprano
sax.

ALLSTARS’ ALLSTAR MALE
rank Sinatra, by now a vocal institu-
tion, once more went all the way with
readers and. musicians, although the go-
ng got a good deal rougher this year as
wild blues shouter Ray Charles came
very close, jumping from fourth to a
near-miss second. (Charles, onc of the

ei

ians

ans’ groove

hottest
wrong

ames in the jazz field, made the
4 of headlines in November
when he was arrested in an Indianap
hotel room for alleged possession of
narcotics. Ray, a much-troubled n,
was said to have been hooked since the
age of 16.) Ex-Basieite Joc ams be-
came an exsecond place holder as he
dropped to fourth, with Nat Cole hang-
ing on to third and the roly-poly Jimmy
Rushing moving up to tie David Allen
lor fifth. 1. Frank Sinatra; 2. Ray Charles;
3. Nat Cole; 4. Joe Williams; 5. David
Allen, Jimmy Rushing.

ALL-STARS ALL-STAR FEMALE VOCALI
Ella, the distall vox of the populi and
musicians alil 5 usual had no near
Miss Fitz lady-in-w
ughan could make по
headway over last year, ‘armen
McRae made her debut in the mu
cians’ poll an auspicious one by рі
d ahead of Peggy Lee
Washington. 1. Ella Fitzgerald
Vaughan; 8. Carmen. Мека

but.

Lee; 3. Dinah Washi:
ALLSTARS ALL-STAR INSTRUMENTAL
сомво: Their fellow musicians dug the

Miles Davis Quintet the most for the
second consecutive year, while the soul
hing Cannonball Adderley Quintet
dimbed from fifth to second. The MJQ
drifted down to fifth from runner-up,
with the Dave Brubeck Quartet and
Oscar Peterson Trio divvying up the
show position. 1. Miles Davis Quintet; 2.
Cannonball Adderley Quintet; 3. Dave
Brubeck Quartet, Oscar. Peterson Trio;
5. Modern Jazz Quarte

ALL-STARS’ ALL-STAR VOCAL GROUP: Lam
bert, Hendricks & Ross solidified last
year’s fi win as the Hi-Lo's, still
competitors previously, had to settle for
second with the Four Freshmen. An im-
pressive import, the Double Six of Paris,
bowed in with a flourish in fourth, while
the ageless Mills Brothers dropped one
slot to filth. 1. Lambert, Hendricks & Ross;
2. Four Freshmen, Hi-Lo's; 4. Double Six
5. Mills Brothers.

The sixth annual Playboy Jazz Poll
recorded reader: i
numbers, The readers, a singu
fickle collective body, return
the previous year’s incumbents to their
places of honor on the All-Star Jazz
Band podium, but several prominent
personages were conspicuous by their ab-
sence; а few shiny new faces appeared
among the me ners.

Stan the Man retained
baton with the gr
the king for the sixth time
actually piled up a greater mar
last year, Duke Ellington coupled his
All-Stars’ All-Star win with а second-
place popular finish, switching last year's
rankings with Count Basie. Peler Gunn-
slinger Henry Mancini held steady in
lourth spot.

leader's

atest of ease. Kenton,

There was а mild flurry of activity in
the All-Star Jazz Band's trumpet section.
Miles Davis remained securely seated in
the lead chair, but Dizzy Gillespie moved
up to second, playing musical chairs
with Louis Armstrong. Big-band major
domo Maynard Ferguson upended Jo-
nah Jones from the fourth chair.

Every peaceful in the bone-
yard as the trombone section status
Qu it for another year: dittoed. from
last year were J. J. Johnson, а shoo-in,
Kai Winding, Bob Brookmeyer and Jack
Teagarden. Below the favored four, how-
ever, the natives were restless. F
Rosolino edged up from
tant fifth behind "Teagardi

Cannonball Adderley waltzed into the
lead alto chair, deposing Paul Desmond
after a fiveyear reign by the Brubeck
попратей. Earl Bostic stayed a distant
third, while Bud Shank dropped from
fourth to fifth, exchanging positions
with Johnny Hodges.

The readers gave Stan Getz a royal
welcome back to the States by returning
him as first tenor sax, but th:
petrel of the tenor, John Colt
placed Cole Hawkins in the second
т. Sonny Rollins clung to his fourth-
place position despite a year of inertia.

Gerry Mulligan, seemingly unassail-
able as baritone sime qua non, once more
made Ше opposition appear Lilliputian
by comparison and received. more votes
than any other musician in the poll. The
big surpri | the runner-up slot,
where Jimmy Giullre soared from last
year's sixth-place finish.

The end of an era was signified
the voting for 1962 Playboy АШ5с
clarinet: Benny Goodman, the consum:
mate King of Swing, finally had to doff
his regal robes after five years as licorice
stick man Number Опе to make way Гог
Pete Fountain who moved up from his

ne,

г

heir-apparent role of last. year.
Last year’s balloting for the piano
chair was a tossup among Dave Bru-

beck, Erroll Garner and Ahmad J
the result remaining
final tallies were in. This go-rou
ever, Brubeck had a much.
of it. And André Previn, whose record
ings have been discdealers' delights this
past year, stepped up smartly
fourth to second place. Garner
Jamal dropped to third and fourth.
The issue was really in doubt on
uitar this year. Chet Atkins, а peren-
nial runner-up. got off to an carly lead.
It wasn't until the balloting had passed
the halfway mark that regular All-Star
winner Barney Kessel overtook him to
garner his sixth
guitarist of the year. Wes Montgomery,
the All-Stars’ All-Star selection, rocketed
from eighth a year ago to third.

Ray Brown, ап immovable object on
the Playboy Jazz All-Stars, was as firmly
entrenched as ever as the readers’ top bass

mal,
in doubt until the

from
and

consecutive laurel as

in a row.
ame men

man, making it ап easy si
Second and third bass held the

as last vear, with Charlie Mingus and
Paul Chambers repeating their positions.
Kessel,

The rhythm triumvirate of
Brown and Shelly M
broken as Shelly piled up а Man
1 of victory for the sixth
The miscellaneous instrument cate-
ry once more proved mallet man
Lionel Hampton's private domain as he
moved his vibes on the Playboy Jazz
Band platform for the sixth consecutive
time. The MJQ's vibrant vibes man Milt
Jackson again was second

The male vocal mike on the Playboy
All-Stars seems to be Frank Sinatra's for
as long as he stays in business, al-
though the Mastic Ray Cl 5 this
year did manage to close the gap Бу
several thousand votes to nail down sec
ond securely. Charles surge bumped
Johnny Mathis from second to third.
Meisterfolksinger Harry Belafonte im-
proved his position slightly, rising from
fifth to fourth,

The contest for fe
il. no contest at

ale vocalist was,
Ш with the peer
ı Fitzgerald easily gathering up
honors, Beneath pLaynoy’s

of Song, Peggy Lee,

the
Lady
а big year in the clubs and on vinyl,

came on from fourth to tke second-
place honors from June Christy, the
popular poll's perennial Number Two
girl Sultry songbird Julie London held
tightly to third Miss
Christy slipped to fourth

The Dave Brubeck Quartet continu
its dominance of the instrumental combo
voting with the Modem Jazz Quartet in
tight possession of the place position
ain. Ahmad Jamal's Trio, on the other
hand, dropped from third to fifth,
changing places with the George Shear-
ing Quintet. The Miles Davis Quintet
echoed last year’s fourth-place finish.

Making it two years in а row as both
the musicians’ and the readers’ leading
vocal group, Lambert, Hendricks & Ross
had matters hand. Onctime
winners, the Four Freshmen were lifted
in the rat third to second,
nudging the Kingston Trio back to third.
The Limeliters, unlisted а year ago,
made it all the way up the list to fourth.

The following is a tabulation of the
hundreds of thousands of vows cast in
this biggest of all jazz polls. The names
of the jazzmen who won places on the
1962 Playboy All-Star Jazz Band are in
boldface. In some s, there are
two or more w 1 order to make
up a full-scale jazz orchestra. Artists poll-
less Шап 100 votes we пос listed; in
categories where
lowed, tho than 900 votes
are not listed: in categories where four
votes were allowed, no one with under
400 votes is listed.

(conlinued on next page)

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133

PLAYBOY

134

LEADER
1. Stan Kenton

- Duke Ellington
3. Count Basie.

4. Henry Mancini .
5

6

5, Gil Evans......
5. Gerry Mulligan
7. Maynard Ferguson
8. Benny Goodman
9. Quincy Jones ..
10. Nelson Riddle .
11. Lionel Hampton.
12. Les Elgart .
13. Billy May
14, Ray McKinley
15. Pete Rugolo
16. Harry James .
17. Les Brown .
18. Ted Heath .......
19. Michel LeGrand .
20, Woody Herman
21, Shorty Rogers .
22. Si Zentner .......
TRUMPET

1. Miles Davis

2. Dizzy Gillespie

3. Louis Armstrong -
4. Maynard Ferguson ...
5. Jonah Jones.

6. Al Hirt

7. Art Farmer .. A
8. Nat Adderley .......
9. Bobby Hackett .
10. Shorty Rogers . -
Butterfield
12. Harry James .
13. Roy Eldridge .
14. Red Nichols

15. Pete i
16. Conte ?
17. Donald Byrd
18. Lee Morgan.
19. Clark Terry. .
20. Buck Clayton ..
21. Charlie Shavers
29. Blue Mitchell

23. Don Cherry
23. Wild Bill Davison .

25. Harry Fdison
26. Kenny Doiham
27. Muggsy Spanier
28. Jack Sheldon
20. Bob Scobey
30. Joe Newman .
31. Frank. Assunto
32. Ruby гай
33. Doc Severi:
moun
T. J. J. Johnson .
2. Kai Winding -
3. Bob Вгооктеуен

4. Jock Teagarden .... 10,593
Frank Rosolino 3,903
. Slide Hampton. ...... 3.465

Urbie Green ..
. Si Zentner
"Turk Murphy
Kid Ory .... ра
- Jimmy Cleveland .

. Bennie Green
nmy Young ...
t Bernhart ........
- J- C. Higginbothan

"arl Fontana .
Bill Harris .
1 Gray
20. Tyree Glenn
21. Wilbur De Paris...
22. Fred Assunto ....

. Dick Nash .......
- Quentin Jackson. .....

. Earl Bostic .
. Johnny Hodges
. Bud Shank ..
- Ornette Coleman .
- Sonny Stitt .
. Zoot Sims
. Lee Konitz
. Benny Carter
„ Ted Nas
- Charli
- Lennie Niehaus
. Pete Brown ..
. Phil Woods

. Lou Donaldson .
- Jackie McLean

. Willie Smith .
| Paul Horn ..
- Al Belletto .

- John Handy . A
- Gabe Baltazar ........
- Bob Donovan .
. Marshall Royal

- John Coltrane

. Vido Musso ....
- Illinois Jacquet
- Bob Cooper .

. Benny Golson
. Al Cohn
. Gene Ammon
Eddie Davis

- Flip Phillips

. Yusef Lateef
. Richie Kamuca
- Hank Mobley .
Bill Perkins...
|. Eddie Miller ...
|. James Moody .
- Frank Wess

. John Gril
- Sam Firmature

Lawrence Brown
Vic Dickenson

. Benny Powell ........
. Jimmy Knepper ......

Cutty Cutshall

. Tommy Pederson .
. Julian Priester i
. Murray McEachem ..

Lou McGarity
Bob Enevoldsen

. Dickie Wells .
. Melba Liston .
- Georg Brunis

ALTO SAX

912
ВВ2
74
675
651
579
579
552
552
540
537
501
459
417
402

Cannonball Adderley 13,575

Paul Desmond .

nes Moody

Gigi Gryce ...
eric Dolphy.
Herb Geller
Hank Crawford

TENOR SAX
Stan Getz ..

Colen Hawkins
Sonny Rallins
immy Giufire .
Zoot Sims

. “Fathead” Newman
. Bud Freeman .

. Paul Gonsalves .
- Georgie Auld
. Dave Pell ....

ddie Harris .
Ben Webster .

Sonny Stitt

mmy Heath

Bill Holman

12,468

35. Teddy Edwards 250
36. Bill Barron . 243
37. Charlie Rouse . 207
BARITONE SAX.

Gerry Mul 20,558
2. Jimmy Giufîre. 1,275
3. Bud Shank . 1,059
4. Pepper Adams . 1,056
5. Harry Carney - 1,002
6. Al Cohn ...... 978
7. Sahib Shihab 621
8. Chuck Gentry 354
9. LonnieShaw 351
10. Ernic Caceres . 291
11. Frank Hintner ... 237
12. Jay Cameron 234
13. Ronnie Ross 219
14. Bill Hood 201
15. Lars Gullin . 183
15. Сесії Раупе 183

CLARINET
1. Pete Fountain ..
2. Benny Goodman ....
3. Jimmy Giuffre.
4. Buddy DeFranco ...
5. Woody Herman .
6. Buddy Collette .
7. Tony Scott

8. Pee Wee Ru ls
9. Jimmy Hamilton
10. Matty Matlock .

11. Bill Smith .. 384
12. Paul Horn. 360
13. Sol Yaged ..... 339
14. Edmond Hall . 321
15. Barney Bigard. . 309
16. Peanuts Ниско. 195
PIANO
1. Dave Brubeck ........ 5,412

2 André Previn
3. Erroll Garner
4. Ahmad Jamal .
5. George Shearing.
6. Oscar Peterson ...
Д Monk
8. Duke Ellington
9. Count Basie...
10. John Lewis ......
11. Horace Silver .
19. Ramsey Lewis -
13. Bill Evans .......
14. Teddy Wilson .
15. Wynton Kelly .
16. Bobby Timmons ..
17. Eddie Heywood ...
18. Les McCann
19. Red Garland
20. Mose Alliso
21. Bob Darch
22. Earl "Fatha" Hines
23. Ray Bryant
24. Victor Feldm:
25. Lennie Tristano
96. Bud Powell
Jess Stacy .
28. Hank Jones
GUITAR
1. Barney Kessel
2. Chet А i ae
3. Wes Montgomery
4, Eddie Condon
5. Charlie Byrd

10. Kenny Burrell
11. Sal Salvador
12. Mundell Lowe
13. Jim Hall

14. Al Viola ........ 468
15. George Van Eps . 408
16. Freddie Green 5:5
17. Tal Farlow зо
18. AI Hendrickson 330
19. Oscar Moore ..... 216
20. Jean Thielemans . 201

Шу Bauer .
22. Joe Puma
28. Dennis Во
24. Barry С:
25. Bill Harris
25. Les Spann
27. John Pisano
mass
1. Ray Brown
2. Charlie Mingus .
3. Paul Chambers
4. Percy Heath .
5. Leroy Vinnegar
6
7
8.

. Red Mitchell ...,....

‚ Chubby Jackson .

. Buddy Clark
9. Norman Bates
10. Gene Wright
11. Israel Crosby .
12. Bob Haggart .

13. Eddie Safranski 696
14. Arvell Shaw . 690
nton . 627

mayen КОП!

17. Slam Stewart . 549
18. Don Bagley 510
I9. Monk Montgomery ... 489
20. EI Dee Young 366
21. Howard Rumsey 348
22. Joe Benjamin 3:
28. Eddie Jones 216
24. Pops Foster .. 213
24. Johnny Frigo 215
26. George Duvivier 219
27. Red Callender 204
28. Keter Betts 186
28. Joe Mondragon . 186
30. Mike Rubin 150
31. Bill Crow 147
32. Curtis Counce . 135
33. George Morrow . 196

34. George Tucker .
35. Cary Peacock

DRUMS
1. Shelly Manne
2. Gene Krupa
3. Joc Morello
4. Art Blakey .....
5. Buddy Rich. .

9. Mzx Roach
10. Jo Jones ....
11. Louis Bellson .
12. Connie Kay
13. Sonny Payne
- Rufus Jones
tan Levey
16. Sam Woodyard
17. Louis Hayes
18. Ray Dauduc
18. Mel Lewis .

20. Vernell Fournier ..... 180
20. Ed "Thigpen ... 180
22. George Weuling 11
ick Fatool 159

Jones 156

Denzil Best 132

26. Roy Haynes . 126
26. Red Holt 126
28. Ron Jefferson . 128
29, Art Тауюг........... n

MISCELLANEOUS INSTRUMENT. 10.
1. Lionel Hampton, vibes.7,125 | 11
2. Milt Jackson, vibes.... 3573 | 12.
3
1

. Cal Tjader, vibes. .... 2007 | 13

Miles Davis, 14
Flügelhorn 1671 | 15
5. Herbie Mann, flute... 1449 | 16.
6. Red Norvo, vibes. ..... 1359 | 17.
7. John Coltrane, 18
зоргано хах таза | 19.
8. Art 20.
accordion 1,068
dido, bongo ...... 888 | so
10. Terry Gibbs, vibes... 771
11. Bud Shank, flute т!
Jimmy Smith, organ 726
Don Elliott,
vibes & mellophone. 654

14. Shorty Rogers,
Flügclhorn
Yusef Lateef, flute:
Buddy Collette, [Iul
. Shirley Scott, ogan
Frank Wess, flute
- Bob Сооре
Mil H
mes Moody. ntr
ior Feldman, vibes
a Thielema
harmonica ос
Sam Most, fime.. s. -+
Ray Brown, cello
n. Инге
1 Nance, violin... .
. Ейс Costa
ary Burton, vibes. . .
. Steve Lacy, sofa sax
Stuff Smith, violin

воз

obor

. Je

vibes

1. Frank Sinatra
2. Ray Charles

3. Johnny Mathis .
ry E

э. Nat "King" Cole 1.023 | 17.
6. Mel Tu зла | 18
т. Joc Williums - 765 | 19.

8. Bobby Darin
9. Buddy Greco .

Oscar Brown, Jr
Frank D'Rone
Jon Hendricks ...
Andy Williams
Mose Allison

mmy Davis. Jr.
Топу Bennett

Perry Como .

. Louis Armstrong

teve Lawrence
Brook Benton

. Jimmy Rushing
22, Billy Eckstine

Bill Henderson

. Frankie Laine

AI Hibbler
Bing Crosby
Tx Martin ..
David Allen
Pat Boone .
Roy Hamilton
Vic Damone

ats Domino
Mark Murphy
1 Grant
FEMALE
Ella Fitzgerald

. Peggy Lee

Julie London
June Christy
попе
Vaughan .
Connor

Dakota Staton

Doris Day
Anita O Day

Judy Garland
Dinah Washington
Joanie Sommers

. Gloria Lynne .
. Nancy Wilson

Dell
Annie Ross
Eydie Gormé
Mahalia Jackson
Carmen McRae

Reese

VOCALIST

.Di

Pearl Bailey ....

Etta James .. 216
. Lena Horne 213
Diahann Carroll 201
Richards 195

а Trask . . 186
Aretha Frank! . 180
dca 180)

Кен ПИ!

m А!

tha Kitt . ES

ti Page 4 153
JoStafford ........... 132
La Vern Baker. . 105
- Jaye Р. Morgan 102

. Ahmad Jamal Trio

INSTRUMENTAL. COMBO
Dave Brubeck Quartet7,500
Modern Jazz Quartet. 2.749
George Shearing

Quintet
jes Davis Quintet

N

Cannonball Adderley

Quintet 1320
Al Нат New Orleans
Sextet 1.176
Louis Armstrong All
Stars 1161
André Previn Trio м9
. Jonah Jones Quartet.. 690

Dukes of Dixieland
Oscar Peterson Trio.
Art Blakey and the Jazz

Messenger Ў 691
sey Lewis Trio... 582
lver Quintet. 396
6. Shelly Mann
ме 384
. Art Farmei-Benny
Golson | . 886
Cal Tjader Quintet 318
Dizzy Gillespie Qi 309
Australian Jazz Quarter 282
Chico Hamilton
Quintet 279
Stan Getz Quartet..... 261
Kai Winding Septet... 261

21. Nina Simone and her
Trio .... 2. 954,
Red Níchols Five

- 916
96 234
эт.
210
98. 204
29. Red Хого Quintet 186.
. Thelonious Monk
Quartet Gasca Un
31. Charlie Byrd Trio... 162
39. Shorty Rogers’ С 159
Jimny Giutlre Trio "1
. Barney Kessel Quartet 129
Turk Murphy's
Jazz Band 129
36. Ornette Coleman
Quartet ПИ
37. Bob Scobey's Frisco
Band Е 108
VOCAL GROU
1. Lambert, Hendricks
& Ross

Four Fresh
ston T;
. Limeliters

. Hil

Т o eaaa i
в. Mills Broth:
9. Kirby Stone Fe
Jackie Cain & Roy Kral
11. Mary Kaye Trio
McGuire Sisters ....
Ames Brothers 55
Double Six of

15. "vers

16. Four Lads

17.

18.

19. Bud and Travis.

20. Mod А

21. Al Belletto Sextet M4
22, Axidentals 129
22. John LaSalle Quartet.. 129

НЕМАЕ 135

PLAYBOY

136

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PLAYBOY’S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK

BY PATRICK CHASE

APRIL, AS T. S. ELIOT almost said, is the
coolest month Пу for the gentle-
man traveler who wishes to mix memory
and desire in a foreign clime. Ov
highways and byways are still happily
uncluttered, and the race Гог space in
top hostelries has not yet reached its
frenetic summer pitch.

Start your vacation with a merry-go-
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then ride the overnight sleeper ship to
the Hook of Holland. Here a short foray
will take you through fields br
carpeted with tulips-
Europa or MS Helveti
gambol up (five days) or down (four
days) the Rhine, from Rotterdam to
Basel or vice versa — through Holland,
Сап nce to Switzerland. These
ships offer swimming pool, sundeck, bar
and no less than five meals a day, and
provide opportunity for rathskeller roist-
cring during stops at Dusseldorf, Co-
logne, Heidelberg and Ruedesheim.
op off your overseaing journeys with
а visit to unpublicized but lush Antalya
on the Turkish Riviera, a tiny village of
clustered red-rooled villas, Roman ruins
and wisteriadraped balconies which
crowds а glassy green harbor. You can
under cli
cascade into the warm s

espec

swim ide w

erfalls which
or take to the
ski trails among the 10,000-foot peaks of
the Taurus range, just an hour's drive
away. Antalya may Бе most comfor
reached from istanbul by со
steamer; the 10-day round trip, plus а

NEXT MONTH

full week at the resort, will cost under
d by a

$100, even if you're accompa
spa-ing p:
If you wish to relax closer to home,

tner

spring vacations bring a swarm of col-
sgiate Easter bunnies to brighten al-
anny shores. As а with-meals guest.
y of the hotels which subscribe to
the Hoppin’ John Plan, you may dine
without extra charge at a variety of spots,
dance in the Moongate Garden of the
Bermudiana and catch the calypso shows
at the Castle Harbour, the Gombey Dan-
mony Hall and the thumpings
so Steel Band on the Harbour

nas at the
newest hotel).
590-5125 weekly tab.

imported
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included in yoi

Stateside. И you're planning to motor
to take

through € be sure
advantage of the wine countr
house hospitality
cries welcome visitors, a
the Wine Institute at
tell vou which ones jibe with your jtiner-
ary. One typical establishment (near
Saratoga) welcomes enthusiasts
with а guided tour through cavernous
valley Hoor
champagne fermenting operations and
then serves up generous samples.

For further information on any of the
above, write to Playboy Reader Serv
ice, 232 E. Ohio St., Chicago 11, Ill. Ba

vino

cellars, shows wine па

“SAGITTARIUS” А NEW BLOOD-CHILLING NOVELETTE BY THE AUTHOR

OF "SARDONICUS"—RAY RUSSELL

“THE VANISHING AMERICANS"'—IN THE RESTLESS VOICE OF DISSENT
LIES THE KEY TO OUR COUNTRY'S GREATNESS—BY J. PAUL GETTY

"CLARA"—THE FIRST IN A NEW SERIES OF MEMOIRS OF A YOUNG
CHICAGO NEWSPAPERMAN- BY BEN HECHT

“THE LOVE CULT"—AN EMINENT MAN OF LETTERS CASTS A CRITICAL
EYE AT THE NATION'S FAVORITE PANACEA—BY ALFRED KAZIN

“THE PRODIGAL POWERS OF POT"—ACCLAIMED BY ANCIENTS,
FROWNED ON BY FUZZ, BEATIFIED BY BEATS, MARIJUANA REMAINS THE
MOST MISUNDERSTOOD DRUG OF ALL TIME—BY DAN WAKEFIELD

= You can read ‘character all over it

Large capitals =.
demonstrate pride

=< Simplicity of style : ЙУ ДЖО; Easy flow reveals;
"shows maturity е IR ‘excellent taste |
Even spacing

reveals consistency : f ge ДЕ "shows individuality:

нее не:
Tat BV PIRAN War KE, rors, of
Whisky ıs 6 YEA <

86.8 u.s. PROOF

2 1 6- YEARS OLD. IMPORTED CIN BOTTLE FROM CANADAAGLENDED CANADIAN WHISKY. 86,8 PROOF- ]MPORTED BY HIRAM WALKER. IMPORTERS, тис: DETROIT, MICHIGAN. `

БРЕТ

=~

More Лебид To де vat. л all the ee

Newport refreshes while you siok
Only Newport gives you the’soothing Coolness of menthol plus a refreshing

hint of mint... in a blend of the world's finest quality tobaccos. It's this +

exclusive combination that makes Newport so refreshing.

А PRODUCT OF P. LORILLARD COMPANY — FIRST WITH THE FINEST CIGARETTES —THROUGH LORILLARD RESEARCH! ©1962 f.lorllerd Co.