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GALA HOLIDAY ISSUE 
ERNEST HEMINGWAY - MORT 
SAHL- WILLIAM SAROYAN « 
WILLIAM BUCKLEY > PHILIP 
WYLIE - BUDD SCHULBERG ғ 
NORMAN MAILER * NUDES OF 
LIZ TAYLOR AS CLEOPATRA 


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PLAYBOY 


HEAR! HEAR! GIFT IDEAS OF THE YEAR 


Take your Christmas list to your RCA Victor dealer tomorrow! You'll find these and other great albums 


L - NE ш 


PETE BRADY "How the West 
Was Swung." Here's a winning 
newcomer to RCA ог. 

handsome Canadian wi' 

swinging beat giving a new 
twist to favorite songs of our 
own West. Whether it's lush 
strings or brassy brass behind 
him, the beat's all Pete's. “Yel- 
low Rose of Texas,” 11 more! 


PETER NERO ''The Colorful 
Peter Nero." The young Mr. 
Nero plucks melodies from the 
rainbow (with fullorchestration 
behind) to paint a lucid picture 
of piano virtuosity. Listen to 
the colors: "Tangerine," "Deep 
Purple," “Journey To Red 
Rocks." Quotes from the clas: 
sics throughout. Handsome gi 


“TWO OF A MIND” It's Paul 
Desmond and Gerry Mulligan 
in one of the finest sax collab- 
orations in jazz recording! 
Paul's delicate alto against 
Gerry's robust baritone is a 
brilliant example of sax com- 
patibility in counterpoint. In- 
cluded are: "Stardust," ut of 
Nowhere" and “Two of a Mind." 


TWO OF A MIND 


PAUL GERRY 
DESMOND MULLIGAN 


DELLA REESE “Della On 
Stage." Here's the definitive 
Della — alive, alert and with 
audience to match. From her 
up opener "Comes Once In a 
Lifetime," to her ad lib romp 
through "Bye Bye, Blackbird," 
you get all the action and re 
action you'd hear at the Copa 
or Coconut Grove. Upbeat gift! 


ty 


pant 


AL HIRT “Trumpet and 
Strings.” Midst holly, candle 
glow and mistletoe, this album 
will be right at home. Another 
ide of Al's artistry—as the big 
brass tone is tastefully muted, 
Шеп ЫШ delightfully fu 
and definitive with 
Stringsin fullattendance. Oneof 
the cheeriest gifts imaginable! 


TRUMPET ena STRINGS eh 


MARTY PAICH ORCHESTRA 


“BENNY GOODMAN IN MOS- 
COW" On-the-spot recording of 
the first performance by an 
American jazz band in Russi 

Goodman classics such as 
"Let's Dance," "Goodbye" and 
a nicety called "Mission to 
Moscow." (To thunderous ap- 
plause and nary a "nyet" to be 
heard!) Excellent gift thought! 


BENNY GOODMAN «^» 
in MOSCOW 


Actual on-the-spot 
recordings of the 
first performances 


THE LIMELITERS "Folk Mati- 
nee.” Another frolic through a 
dozen delightful new Lime- 
enlightened melodies zestfully 
emoted to accompanying bass, 
banjo and guitar. Among the 
delights are: "Sweet Water 
Rolling,” “Uncle Benny's Cele- 
bration” and an inspired new 
roundelay they call "Funk." 


THE LIMELITERS 
FOLK MATINEE 
ES 


ie 


..FROM THE STARS ON RGA VICTOR C» 


.. gifts to delight and entertain every name on your list! @The most trusted name in sound 


LENA HORNE “Lena . .. Lovely 
and Alive." Starting with the 
strikingly beautiful cover and 
continuing through the last 
note of the last selection in the 
album, Lena is absolutely 
breath-taking! “I Got Rhythm,” 
"Мапе to Be Happy” and other 
first-person declarations. A 
lovely gift from a lovely Lena. 


AVAILABLE IN LIVING STEREO. MONAURAL ANO TAPE 


Treat: 
“your taste 


‘kindly 


KING SIZE 


аһа 


THE CIGARETTE WITH THE NEW MICRONITE FILTER 


Refines away harsh flavor...refines away 
rough taste... for the mildest taste of all 1 


TH = елу еве THE FILTER; THE MILO от THE TASTE 
©1962 P. lorillerd Co. 


PLAYBILL 


IT gs OUR CUSTOM, cach January, to ring 
out the old year by ringing up 51000 
bonus awards for the best fiction and 
best nonfiction published in our pages 
during the past 12 mouths. Each year 
the task of selecting the | inn 
has become increasingly difficult; in 
1962 our feast of fiction was served up 
by such top talents as Nelson Algren, 
Ludwig Bemelmans, Ray Bradbury, Jack 
Finney, Paul Gallico, Herbert Gold, 
James Jones, Garson К, w. 
Purdy, Ray Russell, Will 
Francoise Sagan, James Thurber, P. 
Wodehouse d Wolle, among 
many others. A difficult choice, as you 
jı see, but we herewith bestow our 
Best Fiction laure па loot — upon 
novelist James Jones for his deeply 
etched war story, The Thin Red Line 
viewing his major work of the same 
le), which we serialized in August, 
September and October, Honorable men- 
tions in the fiction department go to 
Bernard Wolfe for Anthony Jrom Afar 
(February), to Harry Mark Petrakis for 
The Miracle (May) and to PLAYBOY new- 
comer Rick Rubin for Winter in This 
Latitude (Decembe 

Choosing our nonfiction prizewinner 
was no less beset by an embarrassment 
of riches; the article authors this past 
year included, to name only а few, 
Charles Beaumont, Arthur C. Clarke, 
J. Paul Getty, Ben Hecht. Leicester 
Hemingway, Nat Hentoll. Morton Hunt, 
Al Morgan, Robert Ruark, Dan Wak 
ch-hitting Ken W. Purdy, 
s Best Fiction bonus for 
90175 Best Ar- 
s. This year's 
ner (it's getting to be a habit) is again 
Ken W. Purdy for his powerful and per- 
ceptive Stirling Moss: A Nodding Ac- 
quaintance with Death, (The prolific 
Purdy gets off to a fast start in the 1963 
bonus race in this issue with our lead 
fiction, The Golden Frog, a frightening 
le of a carillonneur who embraces a 
strange fate in the secret heights of his 
bell tower.) Honorable mentions in the 
fiction field go to science writer 
Arthur C. Clarke for The Hazards of 


Prophecy (March), the keynote article 


his vravkov series on the expindin, 
potential of modem man, and to billion 
aire J. Paul Getty, our Consulting Editor 


on Business and ance, lor What 
Makes an Executive? (May), an invaluable 
self-gauge for aspiring captains of com- 
merce. (Getty, too, is back with us u 
month with an analysis of The Million- 
aire Mentality which, he avers, is one 
thing à computer can never possess.) 

In the Holiday Issuccat-hand, you'll 
find a special portfolio of articles and 
features entitled A Man's. World. Its 
contents certain to be prized for 
(а sons) a literary coup 
оГ conside: J ser 


os of 


life and art, Jove and death by Ernest 
Hemingway, who gave them shortly be- 
fore his death to California's nonprofi 
Wisdom Foundation. Knowing 
these choice thoughts of the genera 
greatest writer might otherwise be lost to 
the world of letters we sought and 
gained the Foundation’s permission to 
publish them. 

Hemingway's statements, cn 
Man's Credo, are strikingly book 
herein by a specially cut two-sided pro- 
himself. The profile 
unites Credo with still another lite 
bute by 


scoop — a rugged blank-verse tr 
Russia's [reestthi i ki 
poet-rebel, Ev ıko. entitled 
Meeting with Hemingway. The poc 
was penned in Evtush 
apartment at a small desk domin; 
by а large photo of the bi 
ght- year-old, 
Evtushenko n 
Cuba lust y 


по Moscow 


le bold on 


to v the house 


which Hemingway wrote The Old Man 
s,” says Evtushenko, 


and the Sea, “He 
“my favorite prose writer by fur.” Hi 
poem was translated by George Reavey, 
an Oxford don who is himself а poet 
(The Colors of Memory) and a critic 
(Soviet Literature Today). 

Although it lasted only two minutes 
and six seconds, the Liston-Patterson 
championship fight achieves epic pro- 
portions through the cyes of famed 


SCHULPERG 


кеки 


EVIUSHENKO 


BUCKLEY 


WYLIE 


SAROYAN 


Hollywood writer Budd Schulberg and 
combat novelist Gerald. Kersh in Back- 
ground and Battleground, а sharp one- 
iwo исинин of the leatherfisted 
gladiators and the mystique of the 
heavyweight championship that brou 
them so brielly together. Schulberg and 
Kersh, both lifelong boxing bulls. were 
well-qualified for their ringside as 
ment: Schulberg, of course, is the author 
of The Harder They Fall and Kersh, 
who has authored several fightbooks 
was, for a time, a semi-pro wrestler (“But 
a very poor one,” he 
Three days before the Bi 
capo was the scene of a memorable 
verbal battle between novelist (The 
Naked and the Dead) Norman Mailer, 
and author (God and Man al Yale) 
William F. Buckley, fr. editor of the 
conservative National Review, in a 
debate on the nature of the American 
Right, arranged by John Golden Pro- 
ductions and staged before 3600 par- 
tisins of the Left and Right. Here, for 
the first time, are the open 
Doth combatants, written es 
PLAYBOY and ceremonially deliv 
our offices before the deb: s 
envelopes— by the disputants themselves. 
An exclusive transcript of the ensui 
debate will appear in our February issu 
For those who debate the real nature 
and concept of PLayuoy, we oller Part П 
of The Playboy Philosophy by Editor 
Publisher Hugh M. Hefner, In this issue, 
Hefner discusses the womanization of 
America and explains rLAYBOY’S concept 
of and counter to the Asexual Society 
For still another view of the PLAYBOY 
concept, see Salil on Playboy, a friendly 
asSahlt by хий Mort Sahl. 
Novelist-polemicist Philip Wylie, per 
a battler against an apr 
society (Generation of Vipers), 
in this issue with a surgical dissection of 
The Career Woman. This month, as 
Wylie's latest novel, Triumph (a fright 
ening vision of World War Ш) rolls off 
the presses, momism's mortal enemy is 
busy in his Miami home working on a 
the effect of the 
las 


Fight, Chi 


jon on Flor 


proud Seminole Indians. But he tells us 
he's troubled by а secret yearning: “I 
would like, at least once, to do an article 


% the case, Wylie will envy 
arovan who, in To Be C 
Ieous 10 Women, є bpy 
about a harried author who briclly b 
comes involved with some fine 
an filles — and. he's in favor of them 
all the way. Now on a European sojourn, 
the fabled Saroyan tells us he's busy 
producing several of his own plays. Also 
embroiled 


play production — but for 
television — is Henry Slesar, whose short 
The Glowworm may start a new 
lad in lapel jewelry. In Slesars ironic 
fantasy, a tiny glowworm pin is the 
symbol of a secret society ol pleasure- 
bent. per[ectionists — male and femal 
who need no other introduction. 

Cleopatra, we suspect, would hav 
been tailor-made for the Glowworm folk 
and Liz as Cleo, our photo preview of 
the forthcoming spectacular, glows with 
exclusive undressed shots of Elizabeth 
Taylor. Similarly appealing is our 
al Playmate Review, nine pages of 
proof that 1962 was indeed а bountiful 
year, Our statistical deparun 
that last years "average Playmate" (а 
contradiction in terms) was five-feet- 
four, weighed 115 pounds, measured а 
heat 37-22-35 and was just а shade under 
21 years of age. 

If you can tear yourself away from our 
gatefold girls, you may want to try your 
crayons on what we deem to be ihe 
а book to end all coloring books. 
The Playboy Coloring Book, consider 
what might have happened if some f: 
mous folk had heeded our Retroactive 
New Year's. Resolutions, follow the Lu 
est foibles of Little Annie Fanny. shop 
rom our Last-Minute (Christmas Cache, 
wack down this seasons newest ski 
sweaters, partake of Food and Drink 
Editor Thomas Mario's plans for The 
New Years Day Brunch, and join us in 
toast with Champagne Plus. 

Cheers. 


t tells us 


color 


Any 


FIVE 


Albums 
only лез 


shipping charge 


‘When you become a trial member of the Angel Division of 
the Capitol Record Club and agree to buy only six future 
selections from the several hundred available Angel and 
Capitol albums to be offered you during the next 12 months, 


YONUDI MENUKIN 


REVERIE 
sens | iron. } уо ANE атак 
эму» KOGAN 
(C manat 
EBERT ON pon 


319. BEETHOVEN: VIOLIN 789. SIBELIUS. SYMPHONY 790. LALO. SYMPHONIE £S- 368. NAT KING COLE. THE 422. LAURINOQ ALMEIDA. 417. FRANK SINATRA. SWING. 747. CALLAS PORTRAYS PUC: 
CONCERTO IND. Yehudi Men- NO. 5 and FINLANDIA. Herb. PAENOLE. OP. 21. Leorid TOUCH OF YOUR LIPS. Nol REVERIE TOR SPANISH CUI IN” SESSION! il time CINI HEROINES. Favorite 
uhin in a thrilling perform. ert von Karajan conducts The Kogan, viel. уги Rondrash- So Long Ago, 1 Remember TARS, 11 classical works ty favorites. Always. Paper 


эз1. Sibelius: SYMPHONY 
NO. 2. Povertully played by 


Жер. омар Steers Pharos Geri. tends Piers Oreh. ae iue Fey. Wore. Камы. elut тозон Nao, iss ute g hae 
Conducts ar толин ешти. SUME po thers. Moraural niy. 
мм. вване, CONCERTO #2 т ami йиз. 
"m in В FLAT MAJOR. Richter: Herbert yon Karaias PROKOFIEV. Peter & the зао, Tehaiovahy: VIOLIN 
Шы Berta Aba vettores wilian Yell, Yo" raram and Bertin PM. ылуу SWS VIOLIN CONCERTO. Chistian 
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Y formed by Dennis Brain with GULL NE 520. RAVEL: CONCERTO FOR 
Von Karajan conducting. ISHED” ROSAMUNDE "Faut LEFT НАНО, PROKOF EV: СОН. 
Е CERTO #3 їн C MAJOR. John 
` 354. PEGGY LEE. BASIN Philharmonia Orchestra. 
viid M SONATAS. Annie Fischer in 791. PETER SELLERS & performance of Fever, Them 
azo. кинстон Tmo, crose. vividgerfonmancesof Sonatas SOPHIA LOREN Love and wit There Eyes, Yes indeed. 12 
Mar Prague), No 39 the Panarmont? Orchestra, 
recorded: Sa Анау. Ken 30 Glan and Italy's loveliest in E Fla Maps Phünarmnia Paul KIELIN conducting. 
ова dene Jomes, ste TH. GERMAN ches 
513. ZIHER GOES west. 894. STEREO CONCERT. The 794. BARTOK: Music for ING MUSIC: A riter vocal 
RU AIMER GOES, WEST. KINGSTON TRIO «ей 294. a mran: MUSIC TO Bts ard a brass бапа DE STRAUSS Erich Lontan ME Омри AND DREAM: 799, TRANCO CORELLI SINGS 
wath They Сан The Wind RINDEMITH: “Maire der Wolly, enlesiainaent from Contucis the Phinammona ү} таре i 


Haaser, plano; von Karajan [rage el Argen HAVON: Toy Symphony. Pieper vos KANAN CONCERTO. Mendelssohn. 
_ others, 
136. Mozart: 4 HORN CON- Orch 
Von karaa Metrai conducts Royal Phi 
í, ла бри йон Ун Же 
p. d эзе. Beethoven: Piano Зїнгєт EAST. catch ner club 
GP CS таю Guise; No 14 (Моол) 24 ane Dy Eneide Mie cone. more. 
Фа. THE SOUND OF RICHARO 478. DRIFTING ANO DREAM- 799. FRANCO CORELLI SINGS 


To Tumbling” Тштен. Mans Wey сац rhe Wind a de" a (hri Molan love songs 
Ri Rer Tale, more шу i тое Water Symphony. von Mune Merauateny. 7T iN Баште Bance, Car, arbor ips, тот Terma suren ток 
arin conducting. тше 
S06, LATIN AFFAIR, сезде 752. VIENNESE DANCES 22 fq EE EEE 
ring plor ii Тє ттин under, —— 5 © 
фә. Mambe Batang, ian: Vienna been: == 
fies’ American favorites. plays б scmtiu gs 5] | Ж Tu B 
x КЕЕ СЫ ӨЕ tel e| 2 ANGEL DIVISION, CAPITOL RECORD CLUB (hef ђе 
BNG seh kee Evans tns | | Angel | Dept. 2120, Scranton 5. Pa. == 
š Н 4 
ther 5 
[E] Rush me the FIVE albume ! have listed by number in the 
169 SOVIET Ary cHoRUS Б] boxes below. Bill me Only $1.00 plus а small shipping | simply — here's how 
шше charge ал 
БАН © the Club works 
{cit ballads and army songs z 1. Each month you will 
= твата Heer zc ae ner E | [ [ magazine which de. 
LAND y nm сіт. ma Met ime [Б] Enrol mein the folowing division under e terms set Tonn | scribes new selections. 
ee Поу Сапина ene ini brilant ем арт sr [Б] aionottheCubivah oY | 2. From, the several 
iler drom, coat to coast Мыса settles ttt [Б] GREAT CLASSICS POPULAR BEST SELLERS | Ange! anu Copitcl Al 
к Semana and tne Pro arte Oe Б] NO RISK—SEND NO MONEY! If not delighted with my al- | bums to be offered you 
pube LUE cord ant counts as bums. 1 can retum them within 7 days and all chai during the next 12 
HUE E EC wo separate section.) [E] willbe canceled. Г ‘ges | months, you need pur 
(Record set counts hase just six. You con 
Ses dE Hese omone [5] Ducum cum Tes Lae aco Gr] | mieu time a 
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a92, MILES pavis. BIRTH ieprrton ty Hertert von [O] | membersmp. The Ciub sells stereo recores for 31 noB 
ira. Jason, cerry Nu monia. Monaural only теч gnum records you buy. you БО 
dn ard others 14 eor =I ay only the Club price [5 
Wes Monaural ‘ty 523 RIMSKY-KORSAKOV: |Ë] MR. FSB or 34.98 Gece. [a] 
713, Beethoven: piap 85, VIKING! Hollywood Bowl SCHEMERAZAOL. Erich Leins- MRS. e sionally $5.96), plus a Û 
Conceato. no. 1; SONATA Symphony plays AE a hien G| miss (Please Print) small shipping charge. [S| 
WO. 27. Solomon, piano- ш. ameet йз Bewithing mes. ^ [6 4. After you buy these [S| 
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99 Best-Selling Reasons 


why you should join the COLUMBIA RECORD CLUB now! 


VEE 
TAKE GOOD 
CARE OF 


WY BABY 


128. Love Is A Мапу 
Splendored Thing, А 
Summer Place, etc. 


61. The Second Time 
Around, Fascination, 
неу There, 9 more 


285. Twelve big hits 
by one of Ameri 
hottest. singers 


50. "И soars and it 
swings 
through. 


SOUND 
OF 


JOHNNY 


Sue; You Reme 
bered Me; 12 in 


CHUBBY CHECKER 


love is Like 
A Twist, 12 in all 


DICK VAN DYKE 
CHITA RIVERA. 
ORIGINAL 

GROADWAY CAST 
96. “Happy, zestiul, 
clean... most capti- 
vating."-N.Y. News 


MORE JOHNNY'S 
GREATEST HITS 


at the piano (ARISE 
17. Themes from 
Ben Casey, br. Kil- 
dare, intermeazo,etc. 


JOHNNY] 


164. Ballad of Pala- 
Gin, The Searchers, 
Hannah Lee. 9 more 


SENTIMENTAL 
Sing Along wit Mitch 


The World's Largest Record Club Invites New Members To Choose 


Here's а compact, 
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REGULAR 


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or STEREO 


ADJUSTABLE 


24, Also: Malaguena, 
Sabre Dance, Рем 
dia, Mam'selle, etc. 


260. Gay and effer- 
vescent, this one is 
a real treat 


HARMONICATS ron e" Ү] [Ray Connift Singers] [Ray connie] | TCHAIKOVSKY 

ш S0 MUCH пах CONNIE Symphony No. 7 

EN N 'S Cortinentat us Wold‏ ]° ا 
š Yates Е: КСА‏ 

Peg O° My Hear nar cron bird 
Doep Рур 559 бка 
ЕА пере тынат СНИ 
[scum Essi tn PHILADELPHIA ORCH. 


38. White cliffs 
Dover, Lisbon Anti 
gua, TicoTico, etc. 


JOHNNY 
BURNETTE'S 
HITS 

and 

ome Û 
lavorhtes 


FINLANDIA 
WEE UM: 


[e 
< 


[0 


97. Ethel Merman's 
“most darling mo- 
ment."-N. 


242. “appealing 
lunes and Jush ro- 
manticism." Life 
FERRANTE 
& TEICHER 


TONIGHT 


aa. Also: Lili Mar- 
lene, King of Kings, 


la Strada, etc. 


TETAAN 
the Rain, Bewitched, 
Eka 
FRANKIE ТИНЕ 
GREATEST HITS 
na 4 
аан 
Granada, That Lucky 
Old Sun, etc. * 
EX. 


ndmomentum" Y. 
World Telegram. 


406. But Not For Me, 
The Party's Over, Í 
Should Care, 9 more 


29. Also: Stella By 
Starlight, How High 
‘the Moon, ete. 


+ Yoru or 
ue atone 
+ cme noc 

Жү 


83. Also: Hurt, You 
Can Have Her, Don't 
Let Co, etc. Ë 


MENDELSSOHN 
and BRUCH 
MOLIN CONCERTI 


ZINO FRANCESCATH 


263. Two of the most 
popular and appeal 
ing violin concertos 


$ 


FOR | SSS 
ONLY 
if you join the Club now and agree to purchase 
as few as 6 selections from the more than 400 
to be made available in the coming 12 months 


HERE IS THE GREATEST SELECTION OF BEST-SELLING RECORDS 
EVER OFFERED TO READERS OF THIS PUBLICATION . . . 99 
outstanding recordings from every field of music — popular, 
classical, show music, jazz, humor, country and western. By 
joining now, you may have ANY SIX of these exciting best- 
sellers for only $1.95. What's more, you'll also receive a 
handsome adjustable record rack — absolutely free! 


TO RECEIVE YOUR 6 RECORDS FOR ONLY $1.99 — simply fill 
in and mail the attached postage-paid card today. Be sure to 
indicate whether you want your € records (and all future 
Selections) in regular high-fidelity or stereo. Also indicate 
which Club Division best suits your musical taste: Classical: 
listening and Dancing; Broadway, Movies, Television and 
Musical Comedies; Country and Western; Jazz. 


HOW THE CLUB OPERATES: Each month the Club's staff of 
music experts selects outstanding records from every field 
of music. These selections are fully described in the Club's 
music Magazine, which you receive free each month 

You may accept the monthly selection for your Division . . . 
or take any of the wide variety of other records offered in 
the Magazine, from all Divisions . .. or take no record in 
any particular month. Your only membership obligation is 
to purchase 6 records from the more than 400 to be offered 
in the coming 12 months. Thereafter, you have no further 
obligation to buy any additional records . . . and you may 
discontinue your membership at any time. 


FREE RECORDS GIVEN REGULARLY. If you wish to continue as 
а member after purchasing six records, you will receive — 
FREE — а record of your choice for every two additional 
selections you buy — а 50% dividend! 
, The records you want are mailed and billed to you at the 
list price of $3.98 (Classical $4.98; occasional Original Cast 
recordings somewhat higher), plus a small mailing and han- 
dling charge. Stereo records are $1.00 more. 


MAIL THE POSTAGE-PAID CARD TODAY to receive your 6 
records — plus a free adjustable record rack—for only $1.99. 


NOTE: Stereo records must be played only on a stereo record 
player. If you do not now own one, by all means continue to 
acquire regular high-fidelity records. They will play with 
true-to-life fidelity on your present phonograph апе will 
Sound even more brilliant on a stereo phonograph if you 
Purchase one in the future. 


COLUMBIA RECORD CLUB • Terre Haute, Indiana 


‘SCHUBERT, 
‘Symphonies Noc. 5 

апа В чити 
BRUNO WALTER ecg 


BEETHOVEN 
Violin Concerto| 


186. Also: Tell Mer 
For Me, Sleepy Time. 
Gal, Linda, el 

"Count 


287. "tlowingly 
beatfitul full of co- 


53. My One And Unly 
love, wait Till You 
See Him, 12 in all 


Q "ріс," @ Marcas Reg. © Columbla Records Distribution Corp., 1003 


TRE BROTHERS FOUR 
GREATEST HTS 


20. Greenfields, My 
Tani, Green Leaves 
of Summer, 9 more 


JOHNNY DORIS DAYS | MARTY ROBBINS’ 
MATHIS 3 GREATEST Hits | GREATEST HITS | 


WARN i Em 
want YERE Gy som i e Haag er 

YOUNG e ` тйс White Sport Ceat 
атти Ў юн shu: 10 nere 


-9more 3 


150. Also: Aloha Qe, 
She Was Only Seven- 
teen, etc. ж 


6. Also: Twelfth of 
Never, No Love, 
Соте To Me, etc. ж 


52. Also: А Guy Is A 
Guy; Whatever 
Be, Will Be; elc. ж 


"The stereo version of this record 15 electronically re-chenneled 


| 


|. 


Гетта) 


Also: swingin’ 
l, ete. (Not 
lable in stereo) 


Si ZENTHER 
‘and his 
Orchestra. 


THE STRIPPER, 
and other 


big tand hits 
[ioa] 


Mays Yel _ 
ROBERT ;, 


GOUIET 


mm Фу 


a” 
E 


138. stranger 0n the 
Shore, Midnight im 
Moscow, 12 in all 


180. Moon River, M) 
Kind of Girl, Teac! 
Me Tonight, 9 more 


‘LERNER & LOEWE] 


Camelot 


A m 
E [o 


Sorry Now?, Sep 
пег Song, 12 in all 


296; Cathy's Clown. 
beautiful musical, a Lucille, A Change of 
riumph."-Kilgallen Heart, 12 in all 


291-292. TweRecerd set (Counts As Two 
Selections.) “Intense 
Вией with controlled ferver. 


268. Includes catchy 
‘trumpet tunes, airs, 
marches, etc. 


Johnny Reb, The Man: 
‘sion Yeu Stole, ete. 


221. It's АП In the 
Game, Full Moon and 
Empty Arms, 10 more 


402. "А rousing рег. 
formance.. verve and 
viger.""- Billboard 


DULIE ANDREWS 


"Relentless mo: 
'excitemey 
Chronicle 


405. Teen Beat, One 
Mini Julep, Raunchy, 
What'd | Say, etc. 


120. Also: Love For 
Sale, Candy Kisses, 
Marry Young, ete. 


beautiful al 
lovely, lilting 


coum} 


Bonanza, Gun- 
smoke, 12 in all 


93. The best-selling 
Original Cast record- 


34. Stars & Stripes 
Forever, Washington 
Post March, etc. 


204, Mr. Brailowsky 
poet of the 
'—N.Y. Times 


162. Also: I'm Just 
Here To Get My Baty 
Out of Jail, ete. 


HOSE Ae N 


JIMENEZ 


ROUND 
ABOUT. 
MIDNIGHT 


CARNIVAL of ANDAALS| 


270. "something no 
one should pass up.” 
— Washington Star 


|| Bobby Vinton sings 


gl 
at 0.K. Corral, Raw- 
hide, etc. 


103. It's “Hooray 
for Jose Jimenez!” 
—N.Y. Journal-amer, 


280. This is "ап ех. 
traordinary chorus.” 
Hew York Times 


54. All Df You, Bye 
Bye Blackbird, Ah- 
leuChaet. ' ж 


129. Also: Home, My 
‘Own True Love, 
gen, The Me C 


259. Also: Britten's 
‘Young Person's Guide 
To the Orchestra 


173. Crying, 1 Can't 
Help it, True Love, 
Mr. Lonely, 


132. 1he Band Played 252. "Perfermánces 
On, A Bicycle Built that realy sparkle 
For Two, 12 more and glow."-High Fld. 


and other 
‘fabulous 
sanat 


65. Includes: She'll 
Have to Go, someday, 
Four Walls, 9 more 


148. "'Wacketl's cor- 
ing is just 
t. Chron. 


Tristan unt Isolde 
Die Meistersinger 
Tannhauser 
Ta CLEVELAND о‹ 


300. "Superb . .. all 
the Beauly, & nobility 
Captured."-HIFI Rev. 


И manara MH 
JACKSON E 


em _ 


RICHARD TUCKER 
RIEN FARRELL 


241. "Two of th 
greatest singers.” 
NY. Herald Trib. 


AL CAIOLA 


ойо Golo GUITAR 


"Walloping en- 
sembles and stirring. 
Solos!"’—High Fidel. 


SHOW Ве 


151. Also: Billy the 
Kid, In the Valley, 
StrawberryRoan,etc. 


Bolero + La Valse 
Rapsodie Espagnole 


195. Oklahema Bi 
Make the Water: pliable wit, superb 
wheel Roll, 10 in all timing."-Esqoire 


|McDanieis' 
Iul 


57. Nine Pound Ham- 
mer, Hear the Wind 
Blow, 12 in all 


271. The most pas- 
Sionate love music 
ever composed , 


The Versatile 
HENRY 
MANCINI 


c) 


50. Trees, Because, 
‘anny Boy, My Task, 
My Friend, 7 mere 


Norman Lubolt Choir 


Ti Karar 
Shite Aga 


05. Starring William 
Warfield, Anita Da- 
rian, Barbara Cook 


= 
E 
EXODUS 

| THE APARTMENT 


401. It's АП In the 94. Stranger in Par. 
Game, Till There Was adise, And This Is 
My Beloved, etc. + 


206. "A top-notch 
performance.” Amer. 


198. The Breeze and 
1, Ebb Tide, Sleepy 
Lagoon, 12 in all 


FLAMENCO 1 
ДҮ, 


EE 
LIKE LOVE 


im Me 
beer te 


190. Also: Pretend, 
And the Angels Sing, Super. Recording: 
Cherry Pink, ete. ° Exeellent."-MiFi Rev. 


345, Happy Talk, 
Little Grass Shacl 
Cha Cha Cha, ete. 


46. Also: Like Some- 
опе in Love, When 1 
Fall In Love, ete. 


ROCCE à MANWERSTEN 


102. Complete score 
of "another REH win- 
neri" Newsweek 


ky 
{Part and W) end 
Т Do, Boster, etc. 


251. “Richness of 
the harmenies...gor- 
geour."-Mi Fi Rev. 


107, Also, some Like 
It Hot, Magnificent 
Seven, Smile, etc, 


303. Mama, Come 
Back To Sorrento, ‘0 
Sole Mio, 12 in all 


vol. 10, no. 1 — january, 1963 


Annucl Playmate Review w 125 


А Man's Credo P. 120 


Last-Minute Gifts Р. 99 


SENERAL OFFICES: тілтшог BUILDING, 232 E. 
оніо STREET, CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS. RETURN POST- 
AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF THEY ARE ТО DE 
RETURNED AND но RESPONSIDILITY сак BE азиме 
TOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS, CONTENTS COPY- 
тїбмтєр © 1953 вт www PUBLISHING cO., INC. 
NOTHING MAY ВЕ REPRINTED IN WHOLE OR IN PART 
WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM IME Pun- 
PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SEMI-PICTION IN THIS 
PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREDITS: COVER, MODELS 
LAURA YOUNG, кат KNUDSEN, MERLE FERTILE 
MERISSA MATHES, AVIS KIMBLE, COLLAGE BY 
PAUL, PHOTO PY PLAYBOY STUDIOS, P. 3 PHOTOS 
вт EDMUND STEVENS, UPI, POMPEO POSAR, WALTER 
KALE, JANE BROWN; P, 4 PHOTOS BY POSAR, RAY 
OER, DALMAS, JERRY YULSMAM; P. Yi ILLUS. 
TRATION BY ED PASCHKE: P. 62 PHOTO BY PLAYBOY 
STUDIOS: p. 10 PHOTO ny варку мссоюма, 
T. M PHOTOS BY MCDOWALL: P. ez PHOTOS 
By HOWELL CONANT, ROBERT FENN; P. ез 
PHOTOS BY PENN: P. 66.07 PHOTOS BY MCDOWALL. 
100 PHOTOS wv PLAYBOY STUDIOS; P. 2 
го BY ANDMEW ST. GEORGE, 
PHOTO рт POSAR: P. 126 PHOTO BY WARIO сазы, 
JUSTIN KERR: PHOTOS BY GLENN опо, 
rosan: PHOTO BY JON FOWNALL, P. зө 
PHOTO вт тозан. P. 13! PHOTOS ay PAUL 
MORTON SMITH, DON BRONSTEIN; P. 132 PHOTO 
BY FRANK BET; P. 135 PHOTO By CASILLI, 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL_ — 5 
DEAR PLAYBOY. 15 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 2 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR.. 35 


PLAYBOY'S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK—travel 
THE PLAYBOY PHILOSOPHY: PART TWO—editorial 
THE GOLDEN FROG—fiction.. 

CHAMPAGNE PLUS—drink - 

THE GLOWWORM—fiction 

NEW YEAR'S DAY BRUNCH—food and drink 


PATRICK CHASE 39 
HUGH M. HEFNER 41 
KEN W. PURDY 54 
THOMAS MARIO 58 
HENRY SLESAR 61 
THOMAS MARIO 62 


THE PLAYBOY COLORING BOOK—setire. өз 
TRACKI—atlire....... ROBERT 1. GREEN 79 
UZ AS CLEO—pictorial. 80 
RETROACTIVE NEW YEAR'S RESOLUTIONS—humor 89 
SELECTED SHORT SUBJECT—playboy's playmate of the month. . 90 
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor. - 96 
LAST-MINUTE CHRISTMAS CACHE—cifts ç 99 
ON THE SCENE— personalities. 104 
TO BE COURTEOUS TO WOMEN—fiction WILIAM SAROYAN 107 
А MAN'S WORLD—compendium T 109 


THE ROLE OF THE RIGHT WING IN AMERICA TODAY 
A CONSERVATIVE'S VIEW МІШАМ F. BUCKLEY, JR. 110 
A UBERAL'S VIEW. NORMAN MAILER 111 

THE MILLIONAIRE MENTALITY... a J. PAUL GETTY 113 

CHAMPIONSHIP BOXING AND THE LISTON-PATTERSON FIGHT 
BATTLEGROUND. " 
BACKGROUND. _ 

THE CAREER WOMAN 

SAHL ON PLAYBOY 

A MAN'S CREDO. 


GERALD KERSH 114 

BUDD SCHULBERG 115 
PHILIP WYUE 117 

MORT SAHL 119 

ERNEST HEMINGWAY 120 
MEETING WITH HEMINGWAY... ME EVGENY EVTUSHENKO 123 
PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW—picterial > 125 
THE PROPER UNIFORM FOR SPORT—ribald classic 135 
THE THINKER—solire, JULES FEIFFER 139 
HOW TO SELECT YOUR FIRST WIFE—s: SHEPHERD MEAD 145 
LITTLE ANNIE FANNY—sai HARVEY KURTZMAN ond WILL ELDER 176 


HUGH M. HEFNER editor and publisher 
associate publisher and editorial director 
AR 


TORSK 


HUR PAUL art director 
JACK J. KESSIE managing edilor VINCI 


ENT T. TAJIRI picture editor 


FRANK DE BLOIS, JEREMY DOLE, MURRAY FISHER, TOM. LOWNES, SHELDON WAX associate 
editors; комит L. GREEN fashion director; DAVID TAYLOR associate fashion edilor; 
THOMAS MARIO food & drink editor; тллтаск. сизе travel editor; J. PAUL rry 
Consulting editor, business and finance; CHARLES BEAUMONT, RICHARD GEIMAN, 
PAUL KRASSNER, REN W. гоншу contributing editors; ROBERT CASSELL сору editor; 
STAN AMBER associate copy editor; RAY WILLIAMS assistant editor; ВЕУ CHAMBERLAIN 
associate picture editor; DON BRONSTEIN, MARIO CASILLI, POMPEO POSAR, JERRY 
YULSMAN staff photographers: веі AUSTIN associate art director; " KAPLAN, 
JOSEPH H. PACZEK assistant art directors; WALTER KRADENYCH, ELLEN PACZEK arl 
assistants; jonn  MASTKO production manager; FERN A. WEAKTEL assistant 
production manager = HOWARD W. LEDIRER advertising director; JULES KASE eastern 
advertising manager; уоѕкен FALL midwestern advertising manager; NELSON 
rUrcu promotion director; DAN словак promotion art director; икї мог LORSCH 
publicity manager; BENNY DUNN public relations manager; ANSON MOUNT college 
bureau; J. THEO FREDERICK personnel director; JANET rnm reader service; 
WALTER J. WowAk subscription fulfillment manager; ELDON L. SELLERS 
special projects; ROWERT S. PREUSS business manager and circulation director. 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


Ë] Acpaess PLAYBOY MAGAZINE - 232 E. ОНО ST., CHICAGO 11, ILLINOIS 


FANNY MAIL 
I believe you are entitled to far more 
than the modicum ol pride you cla 
for introducing the Harvey Kurt 
Will Elder series, Little Annie Fanny, in 
your October issuc. The comic genius of 
this pair has been too long neglected, 
and with Annie, they have taken the 
comic strip into a new dimension of satir- 
phic art. 
William Kastanotis 
Lynn, Massachusetts 


and g 


Annie Fanny ain't funny. It earmarks 
your magazine as juvenile and drags it 
down to the level of Mad magazine. 
Alfred E. Neuman is no match for J. 
paul Getty or Robert Ruak. 

Glenn Elliott 
Houston, Te 


ance of Little Annie 
anny on PLAYROV's pages was a very 
cshing surprise. Messrs. Kurtzman 
and Elder have indeed created à success. 
"s antics rather than her 
will keep her on the road 
to success. Bravo! 


The recent appea 


Michael Wyckoff 
St. Cloud, M 


After all that buildup, Little Annie 
Fanny turned out to be a bu 
Erika Wolfson 
Evanston, Ilinois 


I couldn't be more pleased that Harvey 
Kuruman and Will Elder have now in- 
vaded the world of the sophisticate. 1 
sincerely hope that Little Annie and her 
fanny tickle the fancy of the world. 
Bruce F. Lowitt 
Brooklyn, New York 


Kick Little Annie out on her lanny. 
Larry E. VanHoose 
Glen Burnic, Maryland 


service to 
ng Kurz- 


You have done a great 
devotees of satire. by brii 


man, Elder and Little Annie Fanny to 
LAYBOY. 
Тот Hackett 
Columbus, Ohio 


I have not come to praise Harvey 
Kurtzman (because 1 have long consid- 
cred. him a satiric talent of major pro- 


poten 
p format. Critics of the comics over- 


look the fact that what we sec of comics 
is virtually always the Code-restricted 

incs or those dished out by 
the taboo-ridden paper syndicates. 
Asa result they have attracted few writer- 
e talent and the few 
ted people in the field are severely 
limited in a medium of immense possi- 
bilities. I look forward to eventual 
tion of Little Annie 
аппу. Once your audience is condi- 
tioned to Annie, the time may be ripe 
for an experiment in seriocomic art that 
would prove the comics a legitimate 
lite n. A combat story, for in- 
an Mailer or 
and layouts by 


new 


Bob Stewart 
New York, New York 


PAUL BEARERS 
1 enjoyed Paul Gallico's The Picture 
Thieves in your October issue, finding it 
an amusing fictionalized theory concern- 
ing the art snatches. 
Daniel Catton Rich, Director 
Art Museum 


achusetts 


your Octobe 
long admired Mx. 
why he wasn’t pu 
he is our 


«o and wondered 


lished morc often. In 


k 


presentday А 


Dexter S. Miller 
Norfolk, Virg 


THE WRITER WRITES 

Just a note to tell you that I continue 
to read rLAvnoY cach month with a great 
deal of pleasure. 1 am especially im- 
pressed by the high quality of your 


PLAYBOY, JANUARY, 1963, VOL 10, HO. 1 
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fiction; the well-ploued, entertaining 
stories you publish are outstanding. Your 
authors certainly know how to make a 
reader turn the page. 

А. S. Burack, Editor 

The Writer 

Boston, Massachusetts 


HOURS 

In the October issue, I found a refer- 
ence in Playboy After Hours to inter- 
course, Pennsylvania, a neighboring 
locale to my old home town. I feel you 
missed one salient feature, namely that 
a short distance from Intercourse is 
nother small town called Paradise. Any 
Lancaster County boy will tell you that 
the best way to Paradise is throug! 
Intercourse, 


William C. Barton 
Glenville, New York 


SELLERS DWELLERS 

My only complaint with your October 
Peter Sellers interview was that it wasn't 
long enough. 


Tony Randall 
New York, New York 


I truly enjoyed reading your 
ew with Peter Sellers. Sellers came 
alive as a person in an extraordinary 
way, and his thoughts, frustr 
pleasures — both as a human be 
an actor—were captured very well 
indeed. 


tel 


Kim Hunter 
New York, 


cw York 


h Peter. Sellers, 
candid conve 
mi 


In your interview wi 
your headline reads 
tion with england's pi 
mummery.” To spell England without a 
capital letter is ungrammatical and an 
insult. 


ter of 


R. Bryan С. 

St. Anne'son-Sea 
Lancaster, England 
was а subheadline, and the 
casing was strictly a malter of 
style, Mr. Cain; all words in our subhead- 
lines are lower case. No offense, old chap. 


That 


lower 


Im а gre 
interview with Peter Sellers of whom — 
like everyone else — Pm a fervent. fan 
ways reads with interest what any- 
| one's own profession has to say 
about the problems of pe his 
“instrument” — unlike the violinist who 
can acquire by purchase а perfect Strad, 
or à pianist who can have his Baldwi 
always tuned to concert pitch — an actor 
has to be both instrument aud. player. 


t pleasure to read the 


a Guinness or an O 
it is always comfo 
with one’s own problems, to be 
that the people who make it look so 
superbly casy to act well are the ones 


s E take excep- 
tion to — "I'm not anything to look at”: 
he must be well aware that when occa 
sion calls he can look as magnificent 
the fact that D: 
п elected Miss 
Universe has never prevented her trom 
persuading an audience that she was the 
most beautiful woman in the world 
when the role required it. Incidentally 
your interviewer was a master in the art 
of asking intelligent questions 

Cathleen Nesbitt 

Hollywood, California 

Our thanks to Miss Nesbitt, a veteran 

of over 50 years in the theater and 30 
years in films. 


s 


was very теб 
tended nor 
festival th уз, and from what 
Гуе heard from my fellow musicians who 
‚ Гуе been spared. As for Monterey 
its always а “pila” — meaning pill- 
11 ball, 

Stuff Smith 

Los Angeles, California 


which is a sm 


Nat Hentoll's article on the jazz festi 
vals was a shameless promotion for 
Monterey. The Washington Jazz Festi 
val, organized by his friend, Gunther 
Schuller, was the 1 
pensive fiasco in jazz history. Yet he 
quotes Schuller as saying, "Running a 
real jazz festival isn't that hard. You 
pat it on in an atmosphere that people 
can respect and in which they can enjoy 
themselves at their own pace. Its that 
simple.” After reading that garbage, any- 
one who suffered Schuller’s conception 
of a jazz festival in Washington, as 1 
did, will have а long, hard laugh. 
1y Johnson 
New York, New York 


gest and most Cx- 


That was а great 
festivals. I'm especially gl 
realize the 

Jazz Festival. Everyth 
it is true. 


rticle on jazz 
1 to sce you 
mess of our Monterey 
you said about 


Ray Bi 
Lake Tahoe, Califor 


In the heat of current 
als, vou are probably get 
spondence from mi 
kc to harken to your October 
The Jazz Festival Grows Up. Up 
point, you have dealt with the 
al qu fairly and equably. Why 
did you now print a quote of Di 
Gillespie's that was not only prejudiced 
but tinted with black supremacy. Yo 
following sentence about his smile almost 


racial upheav- 
your shar 


ny people. 1 


of cor 
would 
article 


seemed to condone his sentiments. 
Would you please tell me wh ou 

you | y y 
printed it, 


w. 
Davi а 
Diz, one of jazzdom’s blithest spirits, 
is both a hipster and a quipster. You 
can't put down Gillespie, Wade, if you 
had no quarrel with Dick Gregory in 
From the Back of the Bus," which van 
in the same issue. 


LAURA LAURELS 

October Playmate is in all ways 
all the Playmates preceding her 
except for Marilyn Monroe. That goes 
back a long way. 


ou 
Edw 


ar 
ville, Hlinois 


For the past 33 years (I began when 1 
10) I have been looking for wh: 
I thought would be the most beaut 
in the world. At present 1 still 
"t met her, but at least I've seen 
her picture — Laura You 
L. C. Cobb 
Lincoln, Nebraska 


MORE MILES 
1 was a pleasant а 
truthful statements ut 
Davis in September. He cer 
what is popularly considered 
colored boy." By concentrating on his 
horn, he has not had time to master the 
use of a big white handkerchief in pub- 
lic or to develop a hallway decent grin. 
Т. Mack, D.D.S. 
Charlotte, North Carolina 


to read the 


gine my profound d 
to discover that your interv 
Miles Davis, racial authority, rather than 
Miles Davis, great jazz musi 
A. Weisbrod 

Toronto. Ontario 


appointment 


iles Davis is a 
impor- 
atit has been 


published. in 
zine. PLAYBOY is to ре con 


aware that discrimi 
groes exists in some p 
Davis is in danger of be 
conscious as to find dis 
none exists. 


4 so prejudice 
ıu where 


Joseph Allets 
New York, New York 


Irresponsible statements such a 
made by Miles Da 
minders that help us the 
Negroes’ proper place. You can't really 
believe that interviews with uneducated, 


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17 


PLAYBOY 


18 


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the very best stories and articles 
from PLAYBOY's pages 


THE 
PERMANENT 
PLAYBOY 


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satire and challenging articles. Reread such 
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THE PERMANENT PLAYBOY includes such 
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ADDRESS. 

CITY — — — ZONE — STATE. 


uncouth Negroes sell magazine 
Ed Ranes, H 
Marshall, Arkansas 


God Bless Ross Barnett and give him 
victory over Hefner, Kennedy, the 
NAACP and their ultimate objective — 
bastardization. Examine your own true 
personal motives, Your objective in join- 
ing the bastardization movement is vider 
circulation for PtAYnov, not for any true 
compassion for the Negro. Well, have 
fun while you can, because the sword 
ol God is about to drop on this county. 

Roger J. Sampson 
Coral Gables, Florida 

Why don't you two guys try. joining 
the human race? All it requires is a lit- 
tle compassion and understanding. The 
world is big enough Jor everybody and 
it will be a better world when everybody 
has a fair and equal opportunity in it. 


HERR MAIL 

I want to use this possibility to for- 
ward my congratulations as well as my 
thankfulness to all your editorial stall 
for all die joy and the pleasure which 
gives me every month the PrAYnov — 
and a special bravo (this one from a 
higher point of view — as I am a sociolo- 
gist) for the rrax toy as iple for 
other editors, specially in the literary 
wastes of Germany, how to compile 
business with literary style, entertain- 
ment with esprit, erotics with elegance 
and real taste (and not the pscudotaste 
of acidemical eunuchs), etc. Forgive me 
my bid English, please. 
E. M. Weidling 
Munich, West Germany 

No apologies necessary, Нет Weid- 
ling; you're coming in loud and clear. 


n сха 


MOSS CODA 

Stirling Moss has been, and sull is, 
a good friend of mine and, of course, I 
am always interested in an article con- 
cerning him. | think that Purdy's was 
extremely welldon 
the article interesting not only to 
one who has had some experience in race 
cars, but to the average lay reader as well. 
ames Kimberly 

New York, New York 

Thanks to one of America’s most re- 

nowned amateur drivers. 


1 say this because 


I thought Ken Purdy's piece on Stir 
Moss was masterful — опе of the best 
jobs I've ever seen on the number one 
practitioner of any dangerous sport, en- 


ing 


compassing the emotions and motiva- 
tions of all the other dangerous sports. 
He said so many new yet timeless things 


in it that needed to be written just 
that way. 


o. California 

That sort of praise from bullfighting 
aficionado and authority Conrad is 
praise indeed. 


BULL'S-EYE 
Robert Ruark's article The Gentle 
man's Hunting Arsenal was not only 
interesting but a great change of pace. 
Peter J. Astrowsky 
Durham, North Carolina 


Bob Ruark's The Gentleman's Hunt 
ing Arsenal was one of the finest things 
we've ever read about the charm a fine 
gun holds for a sportsman 
Walter S. Haynes 
Abercrombie & Fitch 
New York, New York 


OPINION OF MATTER 

As a longtime admirer of Arthur С. 
Clarke — the science teacher as well as 
the science writer — I feel 1 must record 
the never- y pleasure I derive from 
his speculative, yet fact-based fights of 
scientific fancy — imaginative tours. de 
force that provide the perfect back 
Фор to the more earthy items contribut 
ed by other talents on your formidable 
team, 


Jack Gordon 
1 


jand 


slip, Middlesex, Eng 
Re Mind Beyond Matter: Let it be 
said that in years to come mental telep 
athists may be able to span space at a 
speed faster than that of light and that 
the golden era of the Machine Age may 
not reach its peak for another 500 years. 
Martin P. Dully 
Nutley, New Jersey 


Arthur Clarke's Mind Beyond Matter 
was interesting and surprisingly up-to- 
date, considering that he is talking out 
of his field. However, his remarks on the 
“pleasure center pain center" theory ої 
the intracranial sell-stimulation phenom- 
enon require comment, The hedonic 
theory is not so much an explanation as 
it is, simply, a rcified description of what 
is happening when an 
turn electrical stimulati 
оп or olf, Only recently has experimental 
evidence been brought to bear on a real 
theory of this elea by Prof. J. A. 
Deutsch of Stanford. Deutsch’s theory 
(described in his book, The Structural 
Basis of Behavior) postulates that the 
stimulation has two ctfects: The first is 
excitation of motivational centers, and 
the second is the excitation of neural 
pathways signaling that the object of 
the motivation has been achieved. It is 
as if the stimulation produced, for ex- 
ample, the fecling of ravishing hunger, 
and simultaneously, the experience of 
cating a juicy steak. 1 can 
in which all our needs will be simul- 
taneously aroused and gratified electron- 
ically: “A loaf of гар, а jug of zap!, and 
zap!” Like Clarke, I also speculated 
once ou the possibility of surgically 


nimal acts to 


m of its brain 


ion an 


implanting telemetric devices оп the 
optic nerves of humans so that whatever 
they saw could be relayed to television 
screens. I explained. this to а friend of 
and he topped me by saying that 
it could be called “Candid Comrade.” 
Larry Blumen 
Department of Psychology 

Stanford. University 
Stanford, California 


THE SOUND OF DISCORD 

September's The Sound of Hirs 
true insight from 
real nius. This is instant identity 
tough to be exposed to. No regret 
though. Morc, more. 


Kent. Edwards 
Troy, New York 


Hirsch. Hirsch. Hirsch. Crap. Crap. 
Crap. 


‘harles M. Worthley 
Miami, Florida 


PLAYBOY APPLAU. 
You've come a long way since your 
first issue, but no doubt the best is yer 
to come. Your magazine has a special 
talent for presenting much-needed points 
of view to a public that is evidently 
growing tired of the milk toast dished 
he Saturday Evening Post 
Roy Garrett 

La Jolla, California 


out by 7 


Just can't resist letting you kne 
much I enjoy PLAYmoY. It's refreshing 
photo-, story- and fashion-wise — even 
better than a martini. Well, anyhow, it 
lasts longer 


E. J. Goldurap, Jr. 
Pompano Beach, Florida 


I have been reading your magnificent 
magazine for some 10 months now and 
find it most enjoyable. Friends of minc 
who come out and visit me occasionally, 
here on the Congo Border, are always 
asking to sec the latest copy. 

D. А. Tolson 
Bancroft, Northern Rhodesia 


A Medal Award is being presented to 
srAvmov Art Director Art Paul in ap- 
preciation of the splendid opportunities 
he affords artists and designers, for the 
overall excellence of the magazine, and 
for its inspirational pros; 

Fred Steffen 
Artists Guild of Chicago, Inc 
Chicago. Illinois 


‘essiveness, 


1 wonder il the average PLaynoy reader 
stops to think of the amount of work 
attached to turning out a fine number 
like the October issue. Thank you 

C. H. Cook 
Bakersfield, California 
You're welcome. 


Sole Distributors: Colonia, Inc., 41 East 42nd St, New York 17, N. Y. 


Casanova used it after 


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for u man because it refreshes, and yet leaves 
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4711...the cologne from Cologne. 4711 for men. 


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PLAYBOY 


AFTER HOURS 


s this issue goes on sale, the annual 
A cries of outrage concerning the com- 
merdialization of Christmas will be at 
their height. By the time it goes off 
sale, the ululations will have peaked 
out—for another year. What better 
time to solve the problem, permanently 
and painlessly? This is a rhetorical ques- 
tion requiring mere assent; we have 
the solution and propose to present it, 
not as a Christmas gift, herewith, 

The arguments against commercializ- 
ing Christmas are pure and persuasiv 
It is a keystone in the religious ritual 
of the Christian faith and as such should 
not be exploited by crass commercial- 
ism. The arguments for, however, have 
a potency all their own, but we doubt 
they've ever found a spokesman willing 
to stand up and cnunciate them. They 
include the pragmatic fact that the rites 


of gi nd getting on or just before 
December 25th are deeply entrenched in 


our societal pattern. But a more com- 
pelling case might be made by any se 
ous economist. who projected the 
consequences if there were some way to 
abolish this secular takeover of the 
Holy Day. It’s our guess he'd. predict 
that the national economy would totter, 
if not founder. It is a fact that from 
Thanksgiving Day on until Christmas, 
a huge segment of our populace suc 
cumbs to what has been termed The 
Madness of Crowds and goes oi п un- 
equaled buying binge, digging into 
savings, borrowing, selling stocks and 
bonds, so that— with the money thus 
obtained — consumer goods may be pur- 
chased for others with a reckless good- 
will unmatched the rest of the year. 
Suppose there were some way to turn 
this off. Contemplate the eflect on bank- 
ers and bonus spenders, loan sharks 
and credit managers, incompetent sales 


help and red-nosed bell тїздє 
lonneurs and Christmas-tree 
gift-certificate printers. and 
personnel, G 


growers, 
postoffice 
an Carlo Menotti's royal- 
ties for performances of Amahl and the 
Night Visitors and the industrious weav- 


ers of aluminum wreaths, indignant 
editorial writers and the minatory min- 
ions of Consumer Reports (with their 
dire warnings of unsafe and shoddy 
Christmas merchandise), turkey raisers 
and pine-cone collectors, and the manu- 
acturers of cotton, tinsel, tr 
ornaments and lights — to name but a 
very few of the people and institutions 
which would suffer cruelly. The thought 
stagpers the imagination, just as surely 
as the fact would stagger our mercantile 
complex and the GNP. 

How to reconcile these opposing posi- 
tions? Our answer, which we promised 
above, is simplicity itself: You don't 
reconcile them, you divorce them. By 
Presidential 
coincidence, the religious holiday, Christ- 
mas, and the secular gifting time, Xmas, 
would fall on the same day. Celebration 
of Christmas would be reserved to those 
whose spiritual leanings dispose them 
to its observance; Xmas — and that jolly 
old secular elf, Santa Claus, would be 
long to all. 

Think of the benefits! The annual 
hard sell for Xmas could start, say, on 
Halloween, rather than ng until 
Thanksgiving Day, as is now customary. 
Freed from the frail fetters of good taste, 
the grecdiest merchants could plug Xmas 
as good. good, соор. GOOD for you, for 
the economy, for the scalp, for your loved 
ones, for whatever, to their hearts’ con- 
tent. The challenge to our merchant 
magnates is not even an especially difh- 
cult one ve been able to. punch 
over Mother's Day and Father's Day; ob- 


toys, 


ukase and sheer calend 


wai 


viously 
Xmas, since so many of us are already 
habituated to this annual miracle of mer- 
chandising. 

Furthermore, we can spread this busi- 
ness boon worldwide, an altruistic task 
our Peace Corps is suited— by name 
and aim—to undertake, Underdevel- 
oped African countries could be intro- 
duced to Bwana Santa, whose most potent 
juju decrees gift gi on his Day, 
called Xm: The Far East might be 
persuaded to give a niche among its 
other household gods to Santa-San, West 
sermany could adopt Santa von Klaus, 
while East Germany and other Iron Cur- 
tain countries could get in on the act 
with Komrade Kringle, legendary enemy 
of the Common Market and the inventor 
of Xmas, natch; the Near East might 
pick a Moslem holiday like the Feast 
of Ramadan and have Xamadan fall 
the same time of ycar, with Abu Ben 
Santa ing over the socially com- 
pulsory buying and giving of gifts (What 
a shot in the arm that would be for an 
bazaar!). Should Israel be expected 
to take second place to the Moslem 
world? Don't be silly: Xanukkah (pro- 


nounce the X as in Xavier) or X-Ha- 
shanah (pronounce the X as in Xmas) 


e ready-made. 
As a matter of fact, once we've taken 
Christ out of Xmas (and seen Him again 
secured, unsullied, in Christmas) ther 
no reason not to launch a brand-new 
giltgiving holiday, say around July 
Fourth, which might be named X-de- 
pendence Day, or Summer Xmas (resort 
wear, s ‚ sporting goods). Madi- 
son Avenue — take it from there. 

From the Lake Charles, Louisiana, 
American Press: “Alcoholics Anonymous 
will meet at 9 рум. Saturday at 302 S. 


21 


PLAYBOY 


22 


perennial reading 
pleasure . . . 


THIRD PLAYBOY ANNUAL 


А curl-up-by-the-fire collection 

of the best of PLAYBOY'S early features, 
Sparkling stories, impudent satire, 
riotous humor from such outstanding 
PLAYBOY contributors as Ray 

Bradbury, Herbert Gold. Jack Cole 

and Shel Silverstein. 160 pages, 

‘over 30 in full color. Hard-bound. 

54,50 ppd. 

Shall we enclose a gift card in your name? 
Send check or money order to: 
PLAYBOY PROOUCTS 

232 East Ohio St. = Chicago 11, Illinois 
Playboy Club Keyholders: Please specify 
your key number when charging. 


CAPTIVATING 
MEMENTO 


The Playmate Necklace 


A sparkling gesture to remind yout 
favorite girl that you're the man 
in her life. Incrested with 
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Make check 

or money order payable to: 
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS 
232 East Ohio Street 
Chicago 11, Illinois 


— 


i 


Playboy Club keyholders may charge 
by enclosing key number with order. 


Ryan. This meeting is for members 
only, т.м. Saturday for boys and girls 
nine to 12 years of age.” 

In a recent advertisement in The 
New Yorker, a king-sized 76" x 51” bed 
was offered for sale by a Manhattan es- 
tablishment named, appropriately, The 
Workbench. 


Having introduced our readers over 
the years to such essentials of the good 
life as the Nuttin’ Box, the Improved 
#7 Bunab and The Ultimate Machine, 
we now call your attention to the Spin- 
Sulter, a sort of circular slide rule of 
three concentric rotating discs that make 
it possible to compose original and flow- 
ery (though nonprotanc) curses with 
ntal eloquence. The outer disc g 
ngle pejorat ЗОГС (like "re 
ing," for example), the next disc yields 
hyphenated compounds (like "maggot- 
den") and the inner one consists of 
insulting nouns (such as "driveler"). Re- 
sult: your choice of 262,144 triple-threat, 
automated abusives. With a few whirls, 
we саше up with (in addition to Reek- 
ing, maggot-ridden driveler): Gluttonous. 
cresshawking slackjaw! 


twaddler! Simpering, soup-sl 
phant! Noisome, lampshade-weari, 

п! Cozening, chin-chucking funky! 
(We added our own exclamations: so 
may you.) 

As for the sapient, farseeing inventors 
of this swear wheel (There's an idea, fel 
lows — how about a compliment gadget? 
No. somehow doesn't make it. does it?) 
they have such faith in their handy 
laborsaving device that they've named 
their new, 1 company 
“Rich & Famous.” We wish them lots of 


deserved, money-proliferating luck. 


ambition-rid 
m 


Bargain-of-the-Month 
lately column of The New York Times 
“Polynesia: Native Girls, All unused. Get 
Acquainted Special for only 51.00 . . . to 
Adults Only." 


from the phi- 


The 
women's 


news from the 
that “breen” 


blockbuster 

fashion salons 
(brown with a greenish cust, or is it 
green with a brownish cast?) will be the 
color this season should warm the 
cockles of every copywriter's h This 
freshly minted color contraction opens 
up wide new avenues for verbal virtu- 
osity— after. breen, why not grown or 
me, blurple, blite, blown, or bled, 
puc, rue or rite, yack, pack. whack, rack 
or b And now, if you'll excuse us, 
we feel just a little nilious (that's nau- 
seous with a bilious cast). 


‘ool-in-Mouth Department: Represent- 
Olin E. Teague of Texas, when in- 
formed of the Soviets twin-orbital space 


flight, announced resonantly in defense 
ical elforts, “Our pro 


RECORDINGS 


1f My Son, the Folk Singer (Warner Bros.) 
doesn't give Alan Lomax and John Jacob 
Niles apoplex: will. The per 
petrator of this hoo-ha hootenanny 
mortal blow to all the musical ethniks — 
is Allan Sherman, а cherubic full-time 
TV producer, sometime singer and all- 
time funny lyricist, whose fame 
of this red-hot LP, is now na 


because 
tionwid 


Го say that the folk-song tikeoffs 
a strong Jewish flavor is to take the 
humor out of context. The pungent 


punning that runs rampant throughout 
is universal in appeal — “Gimme Jack 
Cohen and 1 Don't Care,” “Sarah jack 

Логу, Glory, Harry Lewis" and 
sod Rest You, Jerry Mendlebaum. 
And we dig such beautiful refrains as 
"The Catskill ladies sing this song — hoo- 
ha, hoo-ha/Sittin’ on the front porch 
playin’ mah-jongg. all the hoo-ha di 
or “Little David Susskind, shut up; 
please don't talk. please don't talk /Lit- 
Че David Susskind, eat first, then you'll 
tall 


The latest entries in the bossi-nova 
sweepstakes include New Beat Bosse Nove 
(Colpix) with Zoot Sims’ tenor fronting 
an orchestra charted by Al Cohn and 


Manny Albam, and Bosse Nove (Audio 
Fidelity), which features the piano 
Шанс Argentinc-born. composer- 


Lalo Schifrin abetted by Leo 
Wrights burning alto and flute, and 
rhythm. The mellifluous Sims has some 
auspicious aid from superlative 
man Jim Hall as they amble uh 
through arrangements that specialize in 
ensemble flutework. The Schilvi 

is much more electric in 
and a good de: to authent 
nova in concept and execution, The per 
cussion section, in particular, is hypnoti- 
cally insinu Stan Getz/Big Band Bossa 
Nove (Verve) has one of the pilgrim 
fathers of that Brazilian beat in this 
country shimmeringly showcased by the 
artful orchestrations of Gary McFarland. 
The young composer-arranger leads а 
large-sized contingent with Getz. glitter- 
ng tenor in the fore almost continuously. 
Other 
sion belong 10 
and Doc Severinse 
m 
that 


closer 


dividual voices heard on occa- 
im Hall, Hank Jones 
who has a short in 
tory solo on Chega de Saudade 
brilliantly bell-like. 


Sinatra/The Great Years (| 
issue recap of some of F 
for that company fron 
The thice-LP package spl 
the middle between those 


tol) is а re- 
nk's best eflorts 
1953 to 1960. 
most down 
items origi- 


nally recorded in stereo and those that 
have been rechanneled for stereo. Among 
the gems in the pay lode: The Gal that 
Got Away, When Your Lover Has Gone 
and One for My Baby. Frank Sinatro/All 
Alone (Reprise), а collection of ballads 
most of which border on the antiqu 
is with few exceptions a bad scen 
Conductorarranger Gordon Jenkins has 
supplied tempi that range [rom slow 
to soporific, a handicap the present 
Sinatra. vocal cords are 
come. The best of the lot are The 
Next Door and What'll I Do; the worst — 
All Alone and Charmaine. The rest are 
merely listless. 


Among one segment of ivory-tower 
lon rs there are three cherished 
articles of faith which, whatever their 
erstwhile validity, have no present ар: 
plica irst among them is that 
record companies keep issuing the 
old repertory over and over again. 
ond is that thei nothing technically 
new or better about stereo record 
an uu was four or five years a 
the sole motive of the 
ies is making а buck. Each 
element of truth, 
ione now stands up in 


Ti 
record compa 


u 


of these notions h; 
as we shall see; 
the field of c 
herewith, via 
incidentally, a most Bttin 
for the right person. 

, record companies do keep com- 
ing out with new recordings from a 
rather familiar repertory. Two factors 
the practice. If your rig is a good 
one and your car is not of tin, try p 
ing a current classical release and one 
ol the same music issued, say, five years 
ago. The difference is vast—enough so, 
in our estimation, to warrant replace 
ment of the old with the new, unless the 
ing is technically espe 
cially y the recording artist or 
interpretation clearly surpasses the 
newer version. Fine examples are 
the new Artur Rubinstein playing of the 
lyrical Chopin Concerto No. 1 (Victor) with 
the New Symphony Orchestra of Lon- 
Чоп; The Complete Brandenburg Concerti 
(Angel) played by the Phill 
Orchestra with Oto. Klempe 
Clibuin’s dynamically ron 
ninoff Concerto No. 2 (Victor), in which he’s 
backed by Fritz Reiner and the Chicago 
Symphony: and Bach's four Suites for 
Orchestra (Capitol) spiritedly played by 
Yehudi Menuhin and the Bath Festival 
Chamber Orchestra, 

In addition to continuous and gradual 
ment in recording technique, 
= clear-cut breakthroughs. One 
such is discs made from 35mm magnetic 
film recording; if you want to hear dra- 
matic proof of its virtues, wy Berlioz’ 
Symphonie Fantastique (Comm. 
by L‘Orchestre Nation: 
Vandernoot. More striking is the new 


ples — each, 
Christmas gift 


MERITO. 
EGGNOG 
PUNCH 
‘Add 8 oz. of dry Merito Rum to a 


quart of any ready-mixed eggnog. 
Garnish with nutmeg. 


MERITO 


ауе A | 
Merito ў eres 


with ice and strain into glass. Also 
can be served “on-the-rocks.’ 


MERRY, WE MEAN 


Fill Old-fashioned glass with shaved 
ice—add 1/2 or. of Merito Rum— 
slice of lemon peel if desired. 


Cheers aloft! Hoisting a yule tree 
to the top of the mast— 
an old Caribbean holiday custom. 


enjoy the finest tasting rum from Puerto Rico 


Our great reserves of fine, light, dry Puerto Rican rums— 
plus the craftsmanship that comes from 

generations of fine rum making—give Merito unmatched 
delicacy and deliciousness. This holiday, serve 

Merito and, quite simply, you'll be serving the best. 


NATIONAL DISTILLERS PRODUCTS CO., NEW YORK, 80 PROOF 


23 


PLAYBOY 


24 


PLAYBOY's blasé bunny 
helps you hold your sı 
and adds a touch of joie de 
vivre to bookcase, bar or 
mantel. He can handle your 
favorite bottle, 4/5 of a quart 
size. $5 ppd. Send your check 
or money order to: 

PLAYBOY ACCESSORIES 
232 E. Ohio St., Chicago 11, III. 


tales of playboys past... 


PLAYBOY's 
RIBALD CLASSICS 


Saucy, sophisticated tales of love, culled from 
the kest of the ages and wittily retold for modern 
readers. Zesty, laugh-provoking stories spun by 
Casanova, Boccaccio, Balzac, de Maupassant 
and other masters. Hard-bound. 

53 ppd. 


Shall we enclose a gift card in your name? 
Send check or money order to: 

PLAYBOY BOOKS 

232 East Ohio St. Chicago 11, Illinois 
Playboy Club Keyholders: 


Please specify your 
key number when charging. 


se of the 451pm speed for LPs, as 
beautifully exemplified by an album 
titled Flute Concertos of Eighteenth Century 
Paris (Connoisseur Society). Though the 
music (by virtual unknowns) is a bit 
rococo and slight for hard breathing 
classicists, the recording’s superiority in 
sonority, clarity, fidelity and virtually 
complete freedom [rom distortior 
it abundantly clear that good 43 
recording is, at the very least, the equal 
of the very best 3314. 

As for E 
ies are only 
casy buck—it is е 
of it by a sampl 


Шш the record 
after the fast and 
enough to dispose 
g of current. classical 
output, Sure, the disc makers are in bu: 
ness for more than their health; sure, 
they cater to popular taste; but just as 
certainly there are among the recording 
fraternity men who would have chosen 
some other occupation if loot were their 
only motive. How many of each of the 
following would you guess could be sold 
-compared to, say, a standard work 
by Beethoven, Brahms or Tchaikovsky? 
Hindemith's Concerto for Violin ond Concerto 
for Alto (Vox); Albon Berg Svites from Woz- 
zeck/tulu (Mercury): Jonisation (Urania), 
by Edgar Varese; Josquin Des Prés’ Missa 
Hercules Dux Ferrariae (Vanguard); or the 


the ch 


comp 


complete organ music ol Buxtehude (Vox). 
All these are excellently performed, 
meticulously recorded—and hardly cal- 
culated to make anyone rich. (As with 
most s » the bulk 
of the classical records mentioned here 
are also available on 4-track tape, about 
which a at deal more will be said in 
PLAYDOY'S hifi roundup, in 
bruary.) 

Lest you think thoughts of Christmas 
have rendered us beamishly openhanded 
with compliments, beed this caveat re 
classicals: Unless Шу want 
one particular performance of a work, 
make sure you're not buying a newly 
packaged reissue from the days before 
the best contemporary recording tech 
niques were developed. Some of the 
"new" 45-rpm LPs, for instance, а 
made from old tapes, which the 45s re- 
produce faithfully enough, but can't, of 
course, improve upon. 


annual 


you espe 


In our October 1961 review of Frank 
D'Rone's Try a Little Tenderness, we 
wondered why 
LP of vocals w 
ous at best) of stringy or bi 
ing. 105 taken а while, but Frank D'Rone 
in Person (Mercury) is just that. Etched 


tures Frank's fine pipes with only hi 
and rhythm for accompaniment 
n a dozen offerings that are pleasurable 


from first groove to last. 


Pike's Peak (Epic), a prestigious package 
by the Dave Pike Quartet (Pike, vibes: 
Bill Evans, piano: Herbie Lewis. | 
Walter Perkins, drums), is filled with 
what jazz critic. Whitney Balliett has 
aptly tabbed the "sound of surprise.” In- 
ventive and tasteful, Dave is very much 
hi and with Bill Eva 
finely d 1 configurations as 
a catalyst, Pike is indeed at a peak where 
the airs are rarefied but relreshing. The 
elder vibraphonc, on 
tap in Lionel Hompton/Many-Splendored Vibes 
(Epic), comes off second best in compari 
son to Pike. While Hampton's approach 
is pleasant and sure-handed, it is (using 
the Ballieu yardstick) 
much too Famili its pattern to en- 
gender any surprises. Lackluster backi 
too, does nothing for this session made 
up for the most part of standards that 
are, unfortunately, standardized in teat 
L At the other c 


own n 


statesman of. the 


definition as 


d of the vibes pole 
electronie powerhouse currently 
on display in Terry Gibbs Quartet/That Swing 
Thing! (Verve). Gibbs, recorded v live 
at Shelly's Manne-Hole, gives по quarter 
in his frenetic, punishing attack on mat 
ters musical. Terry speaks loudly and 
carvies a pair of big sticks in a two-sided 


frontal assault that leaves the listener 
wilted and Terry's instrument short- 
circuited, we suspect. Even such seem- 
ingly bland material as Stella by Starlight 
is hypoed into a highly ch: Шай. 
The current king of the vibes, on h 
with Big Bags/Milt Jackson Orchestra (River- 
side), steers an unerring course through 
waters charted by Tadd Dam 
cron and Ernie Wilkins. The big-band 
sound really docs nothing for Jackson 
the work is aston 


however; ensemble 
ishingly uninspired. It is only when 
Jackson takes over as soloist (a great deal 
of the time, fortunately) that the session 
comes alive. Nice and Easy (Jazzland) spot 
lights yet another Johnny Lytle 
and his quintet. Lytle is of the school 
whose New Frontier is a return to old 
roots. With Johnny Griffin’ 
the piano of Bobby Timmons echoing 
and amplifying Lytle’s musical senti 
ments, the group foals a whole lot ol 
soul including a quartet of indigo-rounds 
penned by its members. 


s tenor and 


Bobby Darin, a singer for all ages, has 
his posttcen audience much i 
mind on Oh! Look or Me Now (Capitol). 
The tunes include such antediluvian an- 
thems as Roses of Picardy (1916), My 
Buddy (1922), AU by Myself (1991). Al- 
ways (1 Blue Skies (1927), You Made 
Me Love You (1912) and There's a Rain 
bow ‘Round My Shoulder (1998). The 
Billy May art d Darin's de- 


very 


ngements a 


Ist Day—Leave NEW YORK by ВОАС Jetliner for LONDON. Dinner & Breakfast aloft. 


2-4th Day—A rri: 


LONDON. Transfer to hotel in fa: 


at English estate. Leisure-time shopping, off beat sightseeing. Gala evenings on London-town. 


5-7th Day—Jet-prop to ZURICH, Travel by private car to fabulous Burgenstock Alpine play- 
ground near LUCERNE. Explore Swiss countryside on Alpine safari. Volkswagens at your 


disposal. Notable nights and nightcaps. 


8-10th Day—Jet off to ROME. Stay in glamorous hotel on the glittering Via Veneto. Special 
PLAYBOY preview of continental fashions. Visit Rome's leading jazz spots. Delight in imposing 


wonders of the “Eternal City,” its haute cuisine. 


11-13th Day—Jet to NICE. PLAYBOY Renault Dauphines for use while on Riviera. Relax or 
revel at Monte Carlo, Cannes, Cap d'Antibes and St. Tropez. Join the “wi 
Grand Prix by special arrangement; attend fashionable Cannes Film Festival. 


14-16th Day—Jet-streak to PARIS. Dance through 


to your heart’s content. Shop if you like, Taste gourmet fare fit for a Louis or Louise, Frolic 


at the Folies-Bergére. Farewell fling. 


17th Day—Board BOAC Jet for return to NEW YORK. 


| ALL-INCLUSIVE 
PLAYBOY PARTY PRICE 


Just $998.30 based on round-trip Economy 
Jet Fare of $620.30, New York-Rome. First- 
class hotels in Europe with twin-bedded 
rooms and private baths (single room $75 
extra). Two meals per day. Special dinners 
and cocktail parties. NOTE: Does not in- 
clude transportation to and from New York 
and hotel accommodations there, passport 
fees, airport taxes in Europe, tips for special 
Or extra services, items not included in table 
d'hóte meals or alcoholic beverages except 
at special PLAYBOY parties. 


t 


The Trip You'll Remember 
at a Pocket-Size Price: 8998.30 
17 Time-Stopping Days and Nights 
Departure May 15 


HIGHLIGHTS 
AND 
HIGHSPOTS 


* magnificent reception at merrie 
olde English country estate 
* private cars at your disposal 


* famed Monte Carlo Grand Prix, 
a spectacular racing event 


the “City of Light" for unfor- 
gettable nights 


stars, celebrities—glamorous 


Cannes Film Festival 


Roman revel welcoming you to 
incomparable Italia 


shionable West End. Afternoon reception 


the "City of Light" by 


Mail This Reservation Form Now to: 
PLAYBOY TOURS * 232 E. Ohio St 
Check here: 

( ) Lam enclosing my check for $99.83 (10° 
forward to receiving all the exciting details 
departure. (If reservation is made less than 30 
pany this form.) 

Note: Full refund will be made 30 days prior 


Late Cancellation Service Charge will be made. 


* Chicago 11 


Playboys & 'mates, make PLAYBOY ou 
passport to the pleasures of Europe. ad 
the Atlantic in a luxurious. swift ВО, 
Rolls Royce Boeing 707 Jetliner . . - stop at 
the Continent's high-living hotels - . . savor 
the celebrated cuisine of international-set 
restaurants. Enjoy glittering nights in boule- 
vard bistros and boites, sparkling cham- 
pagne cellars. Respond to a masterful шу 
time mixture of scintillating sights an 
sounds. Set off alone, make plans together 
or join the group, as you please. Yor 
mopolitan companions, new friends, wi 
as fun-loving and pleasure-bent as you- 
No arrangement worries. All flight, hotel 
and ground plans are handled by your 
PLAypov host. Come along on а Eur 
escapade you'll never forget. BUT HURI 
... SPACE is limited and reservations are 
оп a "first in" basis. 
SEND IN THE COUPON BELOW 


for a pleasure-filled sojourn that ко 
moment you hear “WELCO 


ABOARD." What to pack? Just your bap- 
piest holiday mood! 


©» 


"n 


Hlinois 


of Party price) to hold my reservation and look 
I understand balance is due 30 days prior t 

days from departure, full payment must accom 
to departure 


At any time after, à nominal $25 


(miss) 


) 1 would like to "play" now and 


pay" later 


send details 


PLAYBOY 


'TUUANA MOODS | 


CHARLIE 
MINGU: 


425. Bossist— composer, 
captures mocds ond pes- 
sions Of wild border towne 


409. Melodious bollods, 
riotous comedy, lively 
dances from Bway smash 


HaRRY 
Beraronre ы 


341. New colypso album 
Bolefonte font hove been 


waiting é yeors fod 
LET THE GOOD TIMES ROLLI 
|соор-тмк Jazz mv 


TURK MURPHY aN 
ae a SAN FRANCISCO ш? NO 


379. Wild Men Blues, Tin 
Roo! Blues, Sweet Georgo 
Brown, more jazz. 


327. Lilting Strouss 
wolizes ond overtures in 
true Viennese siyle. 


Есен 
INEAPOLITAN 
IMANDOLINS 


365. Pulsoting mordolins 
play Santo Lucio, О Sola 
Mic, Furiculi Funiculay elc, 


363 Amusing, 
showpiece vorious 
огыз. STEREO ONLY. 


AMES BROTHERS | 


SING FAMOUS HITS 
IUARTETS 


14, Lov 


Splendored Thing, 
Quoriet fovoiites, 


415, My Fovorite Things; 
Mocrglow, Picnic themes, 
TH Remember April, more. 


HENRY MANCINI 


203. More swingers by 
Shelley Monne ond а host 
of oher стт giants. 


214. Also Blue Skies, 
Goody Gocdy, The Lady Is 
о Tremp, & others. 


416. Jost Walkin In the 
Roin, Im а Fool fo Core, 
I's No Sin, Wild Rose, elc. 


staring HARRY RESER 
TIR on кл зип ы шмш 
AS N Wi ane ina fer 
419. 30hits by four bonjos; 
tubo, rhythm, Bill Boley, 
©» Den Golden Slippers. 


a] 


ILL WALK 
WITH GOD 


' Prover, Ava 


378. Brubeck ster pl 
Lite Someone In Love, Iv 


Got YovUnder My Skin, etc, 


Du 
CONCERTO NET 
VAN CLIBURN 


conductor 
pr 


5. The first clasico! LP. 
oi all time to sell more 
thon one million copies! 


кеў To Introduce You to the 


514, Tricky, tuneful trek 
by composer of Breakfost 
of Толуу, Peter Gunn, elc. 


board, outo hoi 
lonê od infunituml 


89. Powerful пойме Afri- 
con percvssiorl “Fatcinat- 
ing,” soys Variety. 


American In Paris 
fitoren poston rors 
215. Definitive versions of 


Gershwin's two most 
popular classics. 


BONS OF THE PIONEERS ug 
L WATER 


292. Also Red Fiver Volley, 
The ен Round-Up, 18 
eatem gens 


This 3-record w 
Enter each numb: 


‘STILL AVAILABLE! THE ORIGINAL EDITION! 
50 Glenn Miller Masterpieces 


An RCA Victor Exclusive! 


Breakfast at Tiffany's 


348. Won 2 Academy 
‘Awards—for Best Score, 
Best Song, (Moon River 


951 
Origine! performances 
by star-studded orches- 
tro, 

Вепеке, Kay Eberie, The 


sody, Blues In the 
Alice Blue Gown, All the 
Things You Are, Dipsy 
Docdle, One Dozen 
Roses, My Gol Sol, 1Cried 
For Yeu, If 1 Но 
Woy, 41 more! 


(Regular LP only) 


counts as 3 selections, 
separatespace on cord. 


951A 9518 


featuring Tex 
Marion 


А Fhap- 
Night, 


ad My 


362. Anytime, Oh My 


Po 
Po, tm Woking Behind 
Yeu, Thinking of You. 


TARAS THEME 
(гот Gove Wit (ha Wine 
OTHERS 
389. The High ond the 
Mighty, Them 
mer Pac: 


LOVE WALKED IN 


e from À Sure 
ro, elc. 


391. l Love You, Lets Fall 
Jn Love, Almost Like Being 
in Love, I2 in oll 


382. Wilh voices, stings. 
Your Las! Goodbye, Hong 
On, Unchained Melody. 


227. Howalign, Polynesian 
hits selected by the author, 


296, Also } Don't Hurt Any- 
more, Bmore new versions 
OF Snow hits, 


Ud 
"WO Nu 
A ELE 
=) 401. Trunpet kin 


sizzling performances! 
Jazz Me Blues, others. 


191. Dreamy all-time Fits, 
Franklyn MacCormack 
recites. йер. LP. only 


Carl Weinrich 
Bach Organ Ма 


395. Thundering Toccolos, 
thrilling Prelude ond 
Fugues by moster строгіх, 


{FRANKIE CARLE | 
ACARLE-LOAD 
OF HITS 


220. Best-selling modern 
jazz obum from the TV 
adventure series. 


364. Piorist plays 25 grect 
hits Stardust, Condy, Sol 


Rich Spanish Gypsy 
moods by the peerless 


THE SUBHTLY FABULOUS 
LIMELITERS 
Sete 


ү 


344. Stor of film musical 
Stole Foir sings Bye Bye 
Blues, 12 fovori 


347. Hilarious, Intimate, 
"în person” concert by 


VAUGHN MONROE'S 
HITS 


mant 
Ir 
ГТ 
suma 


69. Also Includes Roting 
With the Moon, New 


taining origincl version of 
hi-l/sterec versions, ft ten 


the hit themes 


RCA Victor Record Club 


860 


OF YOUR CHOICE 


for 
only 


TO HELP COVER POSTAGE AND HANDLING 


and play 4 more 


IRE 


REGULAR HI-FI OR STEREO 


We, good 107 Fou 
THE 

^i NORMAN 

LUBOFF 


390. Side by Side, Pick 


423, НІЛ Hilo, Love Me 
Tender, Unchoined Melody, 
Moon Kiver, more, 


Yourself Up, Oh 
Beautiful Mornin’, 


Here's the BEST of BELAFONTE! 
Recorded “in person!" 


conceri—a long- 
time best-seller 
Matilda, Hava 
Nogeelo, Danny 
Boy, more. 


955 ond 955-A. 
Triumphant encore 


Mokebo, The Bel 
оме Folk-Singer 
The Click Song, ей 
Two-Record set. 
Write both num- 
bors on cerd. 


THE DUKES OF DIXIELAND. 
PETE FOUNTAIN, Clarinet 


ALC р a OS В, 
ALORS ОШ UBER 


102. When the Saints 
Come Morching In, Tiger 
Rog, 10 more classics, 


124, Prisoner of Love, Till 
the End of Time, Tempt 
lion, more “golden hit 


COMEDY A ME COURT CU 


236. Hilarious patter. 
song parodies, recorded 
ot "live" how. 


37. Also The Mon Г Love, 
Cherry, others by pianisf's 
relaxed irio, 


TCHAIKOVSKY — | Е 1 
HE n PORTER WAGONER, Цаа oF 
К GILLESPIE 
такя m 
Tubs нт 
| Meus, 


420. Waltz cl he Flowers 
Dance of the Sugar Plum 
Колу, Christmas Tree села, 


ZCHAIMOVEX Y. 
Romeo k Juliet 


roguishly selirical tone 
poem in sumptuous sound! 


for 
10 days 


dies, Rakoczy Morc 
Ове. IReg. L. 


4. Younger Thon Spring- 
time, Some Enchanted 
Evening, 13 more hits. 


392. Modern iozz colcs- 
sul Without A Song, You 
Do Something To Me, more. 


Chorus and Orchestra 
‘Wark Fath art atin 


Stokownkl 


Norman Luboff Choir 


394, Includes Deep River, 
Jeu Joy of Man's Desiring, 
Evening Prayers, others- 


GRIEG 
PIAND 


ORCHESTRA 
CONDUCTED BY 


279. Youthful Idol sings 
duroble sang hits. We 
Kiss in a Shodow, more. 


WRITE THE NUMBER of the record you 
want for only 10c on the attached postage- 
free order card. Then fill in the numbers of four 
more records you want. They will be sent to you 
for 10 days" free home listening, and a Trial 
Membership will be reserved for you. You mai 

keep the 4 records for only SI (plus a small hand- 
ling and shipping charge) if you accept the Trial 
Memi ip and agree to buy only five additional 
records during the year ahead. Otherwise, return 
the four records within 10 days, and your reserva- 
tion will be canceled. The record for 10c is yours to 
keep in any сазе! 

MEMBERSHIP GIVES YOU ALL THESE BENEFITS 
1. Right Away you receive 4 brand-new RCA 
Victor records for less than you would expect to 
pay for onc. 

2. You Receive FREE the exciting new monthly 
magazine, Reader's Digest Music Guide, filled 
vith fascinating stories about music, plus descrip- 
tionsof the hundreds of. redto members. 
3. You Have “Automat ivileges. You 
pay for records only after receiving them and 
while you are enjoying them. Prices are always 


“Th 


424, Hove Mold You Lately 
That Love You, Above ond 
Beyond, Heaven Help Me. 


HANK 
СКИХ 


373. Ни file вто plus 
let Me Be the Ore, Heppy 
Birthcoy To Me, eic. 


Instrumentals — While 
We're Yourg, Esreliio. 


7. Magrificent new re- 
cording of dromonc TV 
score by R Rodgers. 


ARTUR 
RUBINSTEIN- 


Li 


CONCERTO Y -y 
S 


370. Fobinsteln soys, 
is the mos! perle 
recording | have made, 


360, 1946-1950 modem 


374. Other great hits by 
[azz milestones by combo, The Browrs, Den Gibson, 
ig Бопе, (Reg. LP. опу, Skeeter Davis, etc. 
[T 
"NEW WORLD" SYMPRONY| 
ARTURO TOSCANINI 


МВС SYMPHONY ORCH. 


315. Elecironle stereo re- 
processing of one of his 
fines! perlormences. 


MS. Also Kalomozoo, 
Siring of Peorls, Tuxedo 
Junction, 6 maro. 


ai0 r | 
Invent prince rote GRAND 
MARIO, а CANYON SUITE 


LANZA 


GE? m иг WAR DEAR SEHEN 


E 


colorful 


243. The ever-delighiful 
Romberg score, beouti- 
fully performed. 


EDDY 
ARNOLD 


Grolé, booming, 
roaring Beethoven. 


Dn ` | 
om 
HITS: PRADO 
MAMBUSS © PATRICIA 
CHERRY PINK & APPLE 
BLOSSOM WHITE 2 W 
AS MAMBO JAMBO 


254, Amold sings his all- 
ime his ogoin—in new 
sound 


WORKSHOP | 


280. Guitar virtuoso pleys 261. Also Secret Love, Un" 


choleed Melody, more by 
new voccl sentation. 


Lullaby of Birdiond, Mare, 
Whispering, 9 others. 


TCHAIKOVSKY: 


‘OVERTURE 

RAVEL: BOLERO 

sounn spectacuuan: | Debussy LA MER 
‘MORTON COULD bert PORTS OF CALL! 


ORCH. AND BANO 


Адар чы 


226. Connens, gong 
гоо, massed strings 
bords. Dynomicl 


314. Tho glory of 
Detussy's "Sea" spleshed 
in briliont hi-fi. 


shown in the Music Guide (usually $3.98 or $4.98 
—Stereo: $1.00 extra) plus handling and postage. 
4. You Enjoy "Arm-Chair" Shopping Comfort as 
you select only the records you want from the Music 
Guide in the comfort of your own home. 
5. You Receive 1 FREE DIVIDEND RECORD of your 
choice Гог every two records you take afler pur- 
chasing only the 5 additional records from the 
Club during the coming year. Free records are 
exactly the same quality and value as those you 
purchase, and you have a wide choice from many 
hundreds that will be offered. 
SEND NO MONEY NOW 
You will be sent the one record you select for 10c 
and the four more records you choose to play FREE. 
for 10 days—if you act at once, while this Special 
Offer remi о Fill in the postage-free card 
accompanying this advertisement and mail it fo~- 
day. If card has been removed, write directly to: 
RCA VICTOR RECORD CLUB 

efo Reader's Digest Music, Inc., Pleasantville, N. Y. 

тмкз® RADIO CORPORATION OF AMERICA, 


PLAYBOY 


the playmate in her 
give her 


PLAYMATE PERFUME 


PLAYBOY's very own scent-sation. 
$15 the half-ounce. Tax included. 
By mail, postpaid. Satisfaction 
guaranteed or money refunded, 
Shall we enclose a gift card 

in your name? 


Send check or money order to: 
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS 

232 East Ohio St. 

Chicago 11, Illinois 


Playboy Club keyholders may charge 
by enclosing key number with order. 


livery, however, are all admirably au 
courant. 


THEATER 


According to its importer, David Mer- 
rick, Britisher Anthony Newley's Stop the 
World — 1 Wont to Get Of is а “new-style 


by himself) star wears several rather rec- 
cognizable hats— John Osborne's, Zero 
Mostel’s and Marcel Marceau's, to name 
you can, Osborne 
nd 
tead by Marceau. 
the greatest ("You 

"No, Fm on a 
straight salary"), but if Newley were a 
Mostel he might carry them off even 
more effectively than he does. Instead, 
nted white like Marceau, he mimes 
way into the mother lode of broad 
jokes, but someone has made the panto- 
mime too long. Newlcy knows how to rip- 
ple his hand (meaning sex) and walk in 
place, but that's pretty much the extent 
of his repertory. Rippling and walking in 
place, Newley plays Littlechap, whose 
world is a circus. His favorite girl is Anna 
Quayle, who plays, variously, a typically 
glish girl, eine typische. Deutsch 
п all-Ame 
at accents, Newley be- 
ginsas an errand boy; his first errand isto 
impregnate the boss’ daughter — and so 
up the ladder to success, In the end he 
is Lord Littlechap of Sludgepool, a char- 
nob, winner of the Ignobel Prize for 
E nent; Doubletalk. Finally on 
top of his world, he suddenly decides to 
get off. Newley shows a major talent for 
writing popular tunes (What Kind of 
Fool Am 1?) and for singing them, but 
alas, that’s not quite enough to stop the 
World. At the Billy Rose Theater, 208 
West 41st St. 


With Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf? 34- 
year-old Edward Albee proves he is not 
afraid of three acts. In his first assault on 
Broadway, the author of Zoo Story and 
The American Dream has frightened 
all the skeletons out of his closet in 
order to dangle them onstage to the 
amusement, horror and edification of 
his audience. In a conve: nal frame- 
work—a beginning, a middle and a 
resolution — he has composed a most un- 
com nal confessional in which four 
drunken characters talk themselves al- 
most to death. The hosts for the late- 
ight d long are Martha (Uta 
Hagen) and her husband George (Arthur 
Hill), she the bitchy daughter of a col- 
lege president, he a testy professor of 


fi 


history on the father's campus. Their 
guests are clean-cut Nick (George Griz 
zard), a young biology instructor, and 
well-scrubbed Honey (Melinda Dillon), 
his wife. Party games are in order — three 
deadly games of humiliate the host, 
jump the hostess and get the guests. 
First off the pad is hostess Martha, who 


flails wildly at her husband, dredging up 
all his fears and failures before thei 
guests. “If you e “Td 


divorce you.” George takes it, and with 
a filthy ht back in hi: 
wife's face. 


fied), but soon he is pitched 
by George, and proves himself an able 
cgo-nicker. The biologist is a smooth, 
polished monster, who was fooled into 
marriage because of a false pregnancy — 
but has been g the most of Honey's 
money ever since. Нау 
for Honey. he is soon horsing around 
on the kitchen floor with his harridan of 
a hostess (needless to say, he is impotent), 
while the host reads and Honey sleeps 
on the bathroom floor. It's three hours of 
furious theater before the final exorcism. 
Who's Afraid, faultlessly acted, and bril- 
liantly directed by Alan Schneider, makes 
for a nightmarish visit with a neurotic 
generation. At the Shubert Theater, 225 
West 44th St. 


MOVIES 


In Two for the Seesow Shirley MacLaine 
is supposed to be Jewish and Robert 
Mitchum is supposed to be witty. The 
first of these disguises is the more success- 
ful. As dark-haired tel, our Shirley 
still looks more clan Ч landsman, 
but her warm inflections are infectious, 
and only occasionally does the borscht 
accent sound like Yankee be: Rigid 
Robert is more of a problem because 
out of that keeps com- 
ing William Gibson's flexible dialog. 
With all is ups and downs, though, 
Seesaw makes a funny, fecling-filled film. 
A few minor characters have been added 
to the one-couple Broad hit, but 
still essentially a duet for two lonely 
voices — the Nebraska lawyer estranged 
from his who comes to New York 
for a new look at himself, and the mod- 
ern dancer, with open heart, blouse and 
house, who at 29 has been do 
beatnik bit a bit too long. They help, 
hurt and heighten each other before he 
finally returns to the wife from whom 
divorce not separate him. The sex 
has а salty savor uncommon in Ameri- 
can films, and the charact drawn 
with humor and a keen car for the 
mid-20th Century blues. Robert Wise, 


who directed, has made this a Seesaw 
worth seeing. 


Darryl Е. Zanuck, the last of Holly- 
wood's Big Men, has turned out his 
biggest production yet in The Longest Day. 
With a script by Cornelius Ryan from 
his own best seller (assists by James 
Jones and Romain Gary, among others), 
D day has Ье brought to the wide 
screen in a film that captures the cour- 
age, complexity and confusion of the 
largest military action in history. Made 
‘ious armed 
forces), it has touches of standard guts 
andglory movies and some "heart" 
scenes that turn the stomach, but most of 
lifelike — and deathlike. One inva- 
js an absolute jaw-gaper: A 
German coast-watcher scans the misty 
horizon at dawn on June 6, 1944, and 
s we watch, hun- 
ndreds and hundreds of 
lize swiftly out of the mist. 


ing of Frencl 
French and German (with subtitles) and 
entrusting them to foreign directors. The 
Cast of Thousands has 42 featured play- 
ers, most of them in cameo parts — but 
not all are jew Robert Mitchum 
makes the beach a little less Normandy 
and а little more Malibu; John Wayne 
is a cowboy gotten up as a paratrooper 
Fal and Paul Anka storm pillbo: 
if they were jukeboxes. Still, despite its 
molasses moments, The Longest Day has 
pace and power. It runs three hours, and 
the three hours run. 

Remember the cereal box with the 
picture of boy holding cereal box with a 
picture of boy holding cereal рох... ? 
In A Very Private Айай Brigitte Bardot, 
sexy film star with harassed private life, 
plays sexy film star with harassed private 
life, who presumably makes films about 
sexy stars with harassed p.l.'s. BB is a 
dancer who lives in Geneva and falls for 
married Marcello Mastroianni, a theatri- 
cal producer. He thinks she is just a 
sweet kid. Full of lorn love, BB goes to 
Paris where she becomes such a famous 
star that the crowds and the Dolce Vita- 
type photographers drive her out of 
her snub-nosed head. She flees back to 


to find that MM is w 
less, As a result of this Big Two meeting, 
MM and BB become MMBB, and some- 
times even BBMM. He goes off to the 
Spoleto Festival to do a play. She fol- 
lows and fatilistically invites the very 
fan fanaticism that is driving her frantic. 
The end tries hard to be tragic but 
all just one more version of what hell it 
is, fellows, to be a star. The only plus in 
this minus ellort is Henri Dacae's pastel 
nera. 


color ca 


Amstel is Holland. Amstel is a sun-filled room 
and a tiled stove. Have some Amstel Beer to- 
night. There’s contentment — there's the good 
life that the Dutch live-in every hearty draught 


AMSTEL OF AMSTERDAM: 
— by Appointment to H. R.H., the Prince of the Netherlands. 


Amstel American Corporation, New York 1, New York 


PLAYBOY ACCESSORIES 


ployboy's familiar rabbit in bright 
rhodium on gleaming block enamel, 
attractively packaged in felt bag. 
earrings $4.50 bracelet $3 ће set $7 
cuff links $4,50 tie tack $2.50 the set $6.50 


PLAYBOY PRODUCTS dept. 259 
232 east ohio street, chicago 11, illinois 


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| Please send my FREE 1963 Heathkit | 
| Catalog. 1 
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PLAYBOY 


32 


the timeless sounds of jazz 


THE PLAYBOY JAZZ 
ALL-STARS ALBUM, 
VOLUME 2 


Available again, brought back by popular de- 
mand, two 12" LPs featuring winners of the 
1958 Playboy Jazz Poll. Ten pages of notes, 
biographies, discographies. Over an hour and à 
half of the finest jazz by the world’s greatest 
artists. Includes: Sinatra, Armstrong, Elle 
Fitzgerald, JJ. and Kai, Brubeck, Garner, 
Gillespie, Shelley Manne, Shorty Rogers and 
many тоге. A definite collector's item for 
every record library. Available in monaural Eu 

(1Р5) $9 ppd. 


Shall we enclose a gift card in your name? 


Send check or money order to; 

PLAYBOY JAZZ 

232 East Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois 

Playboy Club keyholders may charge by en- 
closing key number with order. 


THE 
PLAYMATE 
PIN 


Winning pin 
for your favorite playmate. 

A miniature PLAYBOY rabbit 
she'll want to wear with everything, 
in black enamel on rhodium, 

Buy her two for the 
popular scatter-pin effect. .. 
for twice as much appreciation. 
Safely clasp. $2 ppd. 


Should we enclose 
a gift card in your name? 
Send check or money order to: 
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS 
232 East Ohio St. • Chicago 11, Illinois 


Playboy Club Keyholders may 
charge to their Key numbers. 


Jane Fonda is the reason for seeing 
Period of Adjustment, Tennessee Williams" 
caramel comedy. It has to do with a 
justmaried pair who spend the day 
alter the wedding night at the home 
ol a friend of the husband. t nights 
e rarely what they are cracked up to 
be, and this one cracks up but good. 
The friend they stay with, married for 
five years, also has had a life of hits and 
Mrs. It's one of those symmetrical come- 
dies that is obviously going to be tied 
up in a nice neat bow, but the string 
ol yoks keeps it moving at a frisky pace. 
Far-from-pi e is the blushing bride 
who can't stop beating around the blush. 
‘This rangy girl has now shown a range 
ol talent that makes her the most charm- 
› disarming actress to hit the Ameri- 
screen since the advent of Audrey 
Hepburn. 


ACTS AND 
ENTERTAINMENTS 


Judging by the number of soft drink 
setups at the Gate of Horn's ringside, 
the Chad Mitchell Trio must have attracted 
every rep-ticd prep schooler and date 
within 50 miles of Chicago. The 7-Up. 
ently likes its liberalism in 
urcoated, banjo-backdropped, close- 
harmonicd doses. There were two high 
points to the evening (a very enjoyable 
, by the way). First and foremost was 
he trio's eagerly awaited run-through of 
ecord hit The John Birch Society in 
which, among other things, Westbrook 
Pegler is held suspect because he “doth 
protest too much,” and whose targets are 
Rosie Clooney, Pinky Lee, Red Skelton 
nd Mommy (If she's “a Commie, then 
you've got to turn her in"). The second 
showstopper was new — a Teutonic take- 
off on The Twelve Days of Christmas 
that covered such miscellany as three 
emites, four top Gestapo leaders, 
six guided missiles, $7,000,000, and other 
assorted items near and d to an em- 
bittered Nazi at Xmas time. The trio, 
Пу accompanied by just a guitarist, 
had the benefit of an instrumental trio 
behind them —a banjo, guitar and bass 
operating in close rhythmic rapport — as 
they displayed their diverse wares. There 
were seve omping spiri 

in-check items includ 
zie Borden ("You can't chop your poppa 
up in Massachusetts; us is a 
far сту from New York"), tender ballads 
such as Walking on the Green Grass and. 
Golden Vanity, and a dram: contrast- 
x of the о: al Irish When Johnny 
Comes Marching Home, sung as а dirge, 
and the uptempo American Civil War 
ion. Mitchell and confreres Mike 
Kobluk and Joc Frazier are straight- 


ng one about Liz- 


Massachu: 


forward, robust and nontwangy in their 
delivery — a formula that several of the 
less successful but artier groups might 
attempt. 

Barbra Streisand, caught recently at New 
York's Blue Angel, is one of those petite. 
young (20) creatures whose voice, style 
and general d or belie their ap. 
pearance. She di: 
set of vocal cords and a tightly controlled 
delivery that ranged. from. meckly child. 
like to wantonly worldly. Arriving almost 
breathless from her smash performance 
as Miss Mannelstein in J Can Get It for 
You Wholesale, Barbra 
up lighthearted housek 
way-out, upbeatnik 
Fantasticks that be; 
in an ice cold s 


to swim 
"апа after 


in the house was ri > 
Barbra, who first won fame as а come- 

е, can be legitimately acclaimed as 
r of note; her Сту Me a River 
that, She could be plaintive (on 
the oddly fashioned } Hate Music, but 
1 Like to Sing) or hilarious as she told 
why she was in love with Harold Monget 
("Not because he has a саг... Ari 
Fleisher h: 


in a row. а 
Streisand deftly turned the Blue Angel 
into a Barbra-shop. Catch her soon and 
you'll have а cocktail-party ploy of be 
able to say you knew her when. 


BOOKS 


In The Pyramid Climbers (McGraw-Hill. 
$5), Vance Packard, nemesis of waste 
makers, status seekers and hidden per- 
dei takes on Ameri 
class. His new book, w 
sorrow than in anger, might be subtitled 
Success Sphinx. Vance advances the 
thesis that the men who run our la 
corporations “are the most manipulated 
and exploited steady jobholders in the 
nd." Callow personnel "experts" strip 
are the executive psyche; bosses dissect 
the executive wife; consultants exacer- 
bate the executive ulcer. The pyramid 
nber must keep his emoti 
his imagination in limbo 


s executive 


which modern executives 
nclination d less time. 
ing to Packard, is sex: “The exec 
utive may be immersed in the contents 
of his briefcase all evening. When he 
becomes aware that it is 


stamps out his last cigarette, restulls his 
briefcase and goes up to a new area of 
concentration, his wife. But by then she 


porate bigotry, only about three percent 
of the population has a chance of ever 


making it to the highest peaks of the 
rarchy. То be considered managerial 
material, you must be (1) a male, (2) а 
college graduate, (3) “a WASP” — White- 
Anglo-Saxon-Protestant. Nor does it hurt 
if you've a six-footer and modishly slim 
Packard, who participated in PLaynoy’s 
Panel on corporation ethics (November 
2), deplores this sort of discrimina- 
tion; but considering the life he says 
executives endure, it may be a. blessing 
to short, [at non-WASPs that pyramids 
have so little room at the top. 


It is easy enough to put James T. Far- 
rell down, along with his work. Make 
your deference to Studs Lonigan ("pow- 
erful book but more easily admired than 
point out that it was written 30 
э: and ask, "What has he done 
for us lately?" His new book, The Silence 
of History (Doubleday, $4.95), will not 
change the conventional judgment. Ed- 
die Ryan, Chicago Irish, poor, intellec- 
tually ambitious, differs very little from 
arrell's old quasi-autobiographical hero, 
Danny O'Neill. He has cried 
the valucs ol 
and Eddie, 
sell's A Free Man's Worship, has decided 
to live with “unyielding desp Ве 
yond the last horizon, he knows, is the 
“clockless eternity of entropy,” but to 
accept that fate and to go forward is 
victory enough, victory with only “the 
honor of the soul of man." There are 
а good many people, some of them tech- 
nically beter writers than Farrell, who 
grec with his views but refrain from 
proclaiming them because they are redo- 
lent of the cracker-barrel atheist. What's 
new? one wants to ask. Whether it's slow 
entropy or the quick big bomb, what's 
new? Well, Eddie Ryan likes a sunny 
moming and the looks of the legs and 
breasts of the girls at the University of 
Chicago. He yearns for beauty and love 
with a dogged sadness that makes even 
beauty and love seem not worth the 
«он. Farrell confronts the drudgery 
and dirt of experience, of daily life 
lived monotonously, with a stubbornness 
that has to be admired. It may not be 
art, but it is the stuff of art, even great 
art, What thwarts his efforts to пыте 
this material is an absence of any vision 
of the good life either for the vidual 
or for society. Still, even those who are 
impatient with his clumsiness cannot 
deny that for three decades he has been 
tying to say more than most other 
writers: if he continues to fail, we may 
still be grateful that. James T. Farrell, 
unlike history, has not been silent. 


No!" to 


if you're going to be 
toppled by a trend 


you may as 
well be the 
one who 
started it! 


In addition to the masterful martinis it makes, Power's Gin is electrifyingly dry, 
positively 94 proof, distilled from grain, imported hy Canada Dry Corporation, New 
York. Yes, Power's Gin is all of this. And it may already be on sale at your spirit shop! 


THE PLAYBOY SKI SWEATER 


Even if you don’t know the difference between a slalom and a schuss, you'll appreciate 
the calculated comfort, special styling end smart good looks of the new Playboy Ski Sweater. 
Made of 100°% virgin worsted wool, the Playboy Ski Sweater features the fashionable crew neck 
and raglan sleeves, with the renowned PLAY80Y rabbit pulting in an interwoven appearance. 
Sweater is available, for both playboys and playmates, in white on cardinal, 

white on black and black on white. Please indicate size with order. 


Playboy Ski Sweater, $20 ppd. (Sizes: 36-38-40-42-44-46) 
Playmate Ski Sweater, $18 ppd. (Sizes: 32-34-36-38-40) 
Shall we enclose a gift card in your name? 
Send check or money order to: 
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS 

232 East Ohio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois 


Playboy Club keyholders may charge 
by enclosing key number with order. 


33 


PLAYBOY 


How to tell In Eggnog 
from the 
Other Stuff 


Some eggnog is іп, some is out. An 
allible way to tell is to taste it. 
Another way is to steal a look at the 
label of the spirits it was made from. 
If the label says “Bacardi,” Brothe: 
it’s in. 


To make some yourself, mix 
half a bottle of Bacardi with a quart 
of dairy eggnog mix, sprinkle with 
nutmeg and chill. (By the way, an 
eggnog recipe that's so far out it’ 
back in, is to dri the Bacardi 
on-the-rocks and have the eggnog 
mix for breakfast. First-rate.) 
In any case, have a huge party. 
If it uses up enough Васа 
in. Show us you have the С 
spirit! 


LEADER FOR IOI YEARS 


© Bacardi Imports, Inc., NY 
Rum, 80 proof 


A Gift for Now 
with a Present Ahead 


A PLAYBOY 


GIFT SUBSCRIPTION 
CERTIFICATE 


This Christmas, hand him his PLAYBOY Gift Subscription 
personally. For men of taste, it’s the impressive way to 
extend "Season's Greetings.” Your gift consists of a 
handsomely engraved certificate worth 12 issues of his 
favorite magazine, a distinctive gift card for your 

lure. They're perfect to have on hand for last-minute 


gifts or for use as special occasions arise. 


FIRST CERTIFICATE $6 
EACH ADD'L CERTIFICATE $4 


PLAYBOY 232 E. Ohio St, Chicago 11, Il. 
PLAYBOY Gift Certificates that | 
quantity 


can personally present. Check or money order enclosed 
(gto, 


Send me. 


My name. 

{please print 
Address_ = =: 
City. Zone. State. 
Playboy Club keyholders may charge to Ку. 
SUA (number) : 


Ever since legal judgments in favor of 
Lady Chatterley's Lover and Tropic of 
Cancer turned bluenoses an apoplectic 
pink, it has been only a matter of time 
before William Burroughs woukl burrow 
his way into the bookstores of Main 
Street, U.S.A. Former drug addict Bur- 
roughs was hooked for a decadent decade 
and a half on every sort of jolt imagi- 
nable — and junk is his subject. Now, 
after years underground, his magnum 
opus, Neked Lunch (Grove, S6), has finally 
bcen brought out of hiding to a chorus 
of praise: Norman Mailer declares Bur- 
roughs is "the only American novelist 
living today who may be conceivably 
possessed of genius.” And Jack Kerouac 
ls him “the greatest satirical writer 
since Jonathan Swift.” Well, Burroughs 
is an intelligent, witty, serious writer, 
and one does not have to be the best 


since Swift to deserve a hearing. But 
readers who take dust jacket blurbs seri- 
ously are in for considerable disappoint- 


ment. Naked Lunch is not a novel at all, 
but rather, in Burroughs’ own words, a 
jon of “notes on sickness and 
Fine—if these notes had 
some semblance of direction or overall 
meaning. Instead, we get a stew of dis- 
connected vignettes, fantasies and hallu. 
cinations, with no sequence in time, no 
relationship in space. It's like lunching 
on the day's leftovers. Possibly for the 
junkic this is the way things really arc — 
but a desire to portray chaos is no excuse 
for writing chaotically. Like Henry Mil- 
ler, Burroughs muses incessantly on sex. 
Words like “ectoplasm, ” “glob,” 
"fluid," “ejaculation,” "pollution" slither 
across ally every page. But where 
sex in Miller — amusing, lusty or absurd 
wally involves people, in Naked 
Lunch the sexisodes never touch ground. 
Unquestionably, Burroughs has a lot to 
say. Unfortunately, he says it most clearly 
in а straightforward essay appended to 
his book and reprinted from The British 
Journal of Addiction. 


lime, 


—u 


Comedian Dick Gregory's From the Back 
of the Bus (Dutton, 51.95). a portion of 
which first appeared in our October 1962 
issue, is now gracing the bookstalls with 
a full quota of wryly razor-cdged edicts 
on the tensions, trauma and taboos of 
race relations. One Dicktum on racial 
hypocrisy, we think, sets the Iaughing-to 
cep-homcrying mood of the book, to 
ome people have a wonderful way 
of looking at things. Like the ones who 
so they can go 
to a Ku Klux Klan meeting 
duction is by rrAvnov Editor-Publisher 
Hugh M. Hefner and photos of the 
gremlinish Gregory are by staff photog- 
rapher Jerry Yulsman (in blackand- 
white, of course). 


" The intro- 


THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


[| am falling in love with a girl who has 
a very bad reputation. She is "known" 
not only among my friends but, as I have 
recently discovered, by most everyone in 
town. Even though I have found that the 
rumors about her are, unfortunately, 
true, my feelings toward her are still the 
same. But I'm afraid that when and if I 
marry her, I will be laughed at by my 
friends and maybe even єп the cold 
shoulder by business associates. What 
do 1 do? Ignore everyone else and con- 
tinue to court her, or give her up as a 
lost cause? — T. A., Tampa, Florida. 

If in the first flush of romantic love 
public opinion looms larger in your 
thoughts than private happiness, youre 
clearly headed toward a post-honeymoon 
future of increasing mental malaise. 
You'd best break off now, sparing your- 
self —and her 
ing rcappraisals. 


your inevitable agoniz 


living enjoyed stays at hotels using 
both the American plan and the Euro- 
pean plan during a recent Florida vaca- 
tion, I'm curious to learn just how and 
when the distinction between the two sys- 
tems started. — P. R., Anchorage, Alaska. 

The Amcrican plan (by which guests 
pay for lodgings plus meals at an in- 
clusive, regular rate) came into bein 
during pre-Revolulionary days when 
travelers stopping at inns and taverns 
took potluck at their landlord's family 
table. The French-originated European 
plan (separate checks for bed and non- 
mandatory board) began to appear in 
the U.S. around 1830, and gradually be- 
came the more popular system. Today, 
only а few American hotels — usually of 
the resort variety —offer the American 
plan exclusively; many, however, give 
guests an option on cither plan. Abroad, 
the European plan is [ат more prevalent 
(frequently modified by the inclusion of 
breakfast in the room rate). 


WW ies your opinion of clccuic tooth- 
brushes? Don't you feel there's something 
basically decadent about mechanizing 
such a simple chore?—C. B. Granite 
City, Illinois. 

Not at all. Any gadget that accom- 
plishes a chore with case and speed gets 
оит vote, Dentisis say these bathroom 
appliances will scrub one’s molars far 
more efficiently and thoroughly than will 
the manual method. Belter yet, you get 
equivalent benefit in a fraction of the 
time required for thorough manual 
brushing. In our book, decay is decadent 
—not the means to combat it. 


A. couple of years ago а reader asked 
you if he was right in flatly refusing to 


take his girl's roommate along on a date; 
you said he acted impulsively and should 
have taken both of them on the town — 
once. Recently I was confronted with a 
comparable situation — but the denouc- 
ment was far different. Twice in one 
month the girl I date regularly has sur- 
prised me by having a lone and lonely 
girlfriend as her visitor when I fell up to 
her pad to take her out for the evening. 
On both occasions, the girls just sat 
there, having drink for drink with me, 
until common politeness forced mc to 
ask the other girl to join us. First time I 
was annoyed, but concealed it and said 
nothing. Sccond time, 1 took my girl 
aside after the first drink and asked if 
she expected me to have her girlfriend 
tag along. She said it would be the de- 
cent thing to do, and I wasn’t going to 
stand there arguing, so I was stuck aj 
Next day, I called my girl and told he 
I'd felt imposed upon. She accused me 
of being unfriendly and chintzy. I got 
sore and hung up on her. Following day 
I figured she'd been defensive and I'd 
responded harshly; I called her, we made 
up, and made a dinner date. You know 
what happened: I got to her place and 
there this friend of hers I was in- 
troduced to, name of Sally, let's say. Same 
old story — but this time with a different 
ending. What happened was, I got so 
sore I told my girl to stay home, grabbed 
Sally out of the place, took her to a 
swell dinner, pitched like mad, and 
scored. Now my girl won't speak to me. 
What to do? — J. P., Detroit, Michigan. 

First, we think you did the right thing 
under the circumstances, and we're glad 
to hear that it turned out so well that 
evening. Life is for living and you 
probably had a better time that evening 
than if you spent it in the way you 
had planned with your regular girl. 
Be wary of Sally, however—she spells 
trouble, Any female who hangs around a 
friend's apartment when she most cer 
tainly knows that the friend is getting 
ready for a date, and who then per- 
mits herself to be dragged away alone in 
place of the girlfriend with whom you had 
а date —and, а swell-dinner-and-being- 
pitched-like-mad notwithstanding, goes 
to bed with the regular boyjriend of her 
girlfriend. under these unusual. circum- 
siances — spells trouble. There is а pat- 
tern to her actions that strongly suggests 
Sally is really quite hostile, though per- 
haps subconsciously, toward your regular 
girl. Throughout the evening, both in 
the apartment and after you had taken 
her out (the willingness to go with you 
as a substitute date is especially reveal- 
ing), Sally was actively competing with 
your regular girl. The reason your girl- 
friend won't speak to you may not be 


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these master: 


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PLAYBOY 


36 


just because you walked out on her that 
evening — it is quite possible that, con- 
sistent with the hostility displayed in her 
actions the night before, Sally went back 
to your girlfriend the next day with a 
full account of everything that the two 
of you did together. And if she didn't 
tell her the whole truth she probably 
made up а half-true version that came 
out even worse than what actually oc- 
curred. The best response to all this is to 
point oul the obvious significance of 
Sally's action to your regular girl and 
you will then be able to successfully 
deny that anything happened on your 
night out with Sally (which your girl 
will want to belicve), because anything 
whatever that Sally may have said can 
be brushed aside as a lie prompted 
by the same competitive hostility. This 
will permit your girl to satisfactorily (in 
her mind) shift the blame for the evening 
from you to Sally, which is whal she will 
doubtless do, after which you should have 
no problem. You may wish to point out 
along the way that you realize walking 
out on her with someone else was rude, 
but it was equally rude for her to have 
a friend sitting there in the apariment 
ai a lime when she was expecting you for 
а date — especially when you had already 
made your feelings about this sort of 
thing known to her. You can point out, 
with real validity, that under the circum- 
stances the presence of Sally in the apart- 
ment when you arrived for your date was 
like waving a ved shirt in front of a bull. 
One thi " 
count on privacy whenever you've ar- 
ranged for a date with your giri. 


rom now on you can 


Bye heard à great many conflicting opin- 
ng absinthe, and would like 
to le just what is truth and what is 
fiction. For example, for what i 
it outlawed in the U.S, and France? Can 
you shed any other light on this mys 
terious beverage? — J. R., Huntington, 
West Virginia. 

The truth about absinthe is as am- 
biguous and elusive as the appearance 
of the drink itself: When properly mixed 
with waler, ice and sugar, И turns suc- 
cessive shades of emerald, pink and gold 
before becoming milky and opalescent. 
Among the accusations that its mythical 
properties have aroused are the claims 
that (a) it causes insanity, (b) it sexual 
stimulant, and (e) it lowers the birthrate 
by preventing or aborting pregnancy. In 
spite of a dearth of scientific evidence 
10 support such beliefs, public health 
authorities in Switzerland, France, the 
U.S. and other countries have outlawed 
the liquor, generally on the grounds that 
itis made with wormwood, an aromatic 
herb that is reputed to be harmful if 
consumed in excess. The fact that worm- 
wood tea used to be sipped by old ladies 
and young children as а remedy for 


ions conce 


minor debilities has nol dissuaded the 
lawmen from their opposition to it. Un- 
doubtedly more formidable than the 
wormwood oil is absinthe’s staggering 
alcoholic content: It is 136 proof (or 
68 percent alcohol). U seems likely that 
absinthe's sinister and exaggerated repu- 
tation stems directly from this alcoholic 
potency. If you're curious as to ils flavor, 
you might lake note that an aperitif 
quite similar to absinthe in its pro- 
nounced anise taste is sold under the 
label of Pernod Fils, the original French 
producers of absinthe. 


This is tess a question than а request 
tion you may not wish to 
A lot of your Advisor questions 
k for personal advice. Now, based on 
the time between stories in your 
mag; and letters to the Editor about 
th І conclude that your deadlines 
m: it impossible to answer Advisor 
questions. promptly, so what good are 
your answers to guys in. personal quan 
daries that need. immediate solutions? — 
Г.О., Phoenix, Arizon: 

By the time you see this in print you'll 
know, since you will have received by 
mail a personal letter in response to 
your query. The same thing happens 
with all questions addressed to The 
Playboy Advisor: They receive a prompt 
postal reply, and then afterward, if the 
question is of sufficient interest, it is con- 
sidered Jor publication. 


МУ... reading your On the Town in 
New York piece [November 1962], 1 was 
reminded again of a question that has 
always puzded me: Why is New York 
sometimes referred to as Gotham? — F. F., 
Lexington, tucky. 

The original Gotham is a village in 
Nottinghamshire, England, which used 
to be widely noted in legend and prov- 
erb for the conceit of its inhabitants. 
Washington Irving first applied the name 
lo New York in 1807 in one of the 
Salmagundi Papers in an effort to satirize 
the vanity of his fellow tounsmen. There- 
after, the stuck-up sobriquet stuck. 


A tienda of mine has can dn Ausin- 
Healey Sprite in а couple of races and 
the experience has made him unpleasant 
to ride with: he goes too fast, brakes 
violently, double-clutches and shifts 
all the time. He tells me that a 
dumb dame cannot be expected to know 
th right way to drive. Right? 
— D. L., Tacoma, Washington. 

Wrong. wrAYBOY's Ken Purdy, who 
has ridden with the likes of Phil Hill 
and Stirling Moss, tells us that profes 
sionals tend to drive а! moderate speeds, 
with notable concentration, both hands 
on the wheel and above all very 
smoothly. No ordinary passenger or 


+ +. only if you act now. This is the 
last time you can send the best of 
holiday greetings tothe men on your 
list; twelve months of: 


* top fiction by the world's best 
writers * choice tips on travel, mod- 
ern в, entertainment, attire, 
food and drink * sophisticated car- 
toons and humor PLUS dazzling, 
full-color photos of the famous 
Playmate of the Month. 


And speaking of Playmates, one of 
the loveliest will arrive via the 
PLAYBoY Christmas card to announce 
your gift. Soon after comes the hand- 
some PLAYBOY January Holiday Issue 
starting a full year of the best in 
masculine entertainment. 


This is your last chance to take ad- 
vantage of the special money-saving 
Christmas gift rate, too. Now, YOUR. 
FIRST ONE-YEAR GIFT IS ONLY $6. 
You save a full $2.00 over the $8.00. 
newsstand price. AND EACH ADDI- 
TIONAL GIFT IS ONLY $4. You save 
a full $4.00 over the newsstand 
price, $2.00 over the regular sub- 
scription rate, After January 31, the 
regular subscription rates will again 
be in effect. 


SO, ORDER YOUR PLAYBOY GIFT 
SUBSCRIPTION NOW! If you prefer, 
check “bill me later” on the order 
form. Payment can wait until after 
January 1. 


s Hive tho man 


d PLAYBOY 
rue Jor Christmas 


ill 
your Christmas list. 


PLAYBOY 


38 


when is a chair a life saver? 
when it's our chair bed 


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Weekend hospitality for the kid brother. A spot to bunk when 

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blue/green, beige, olive, melon. Information on special fabrics 

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ale LUCAS Company 


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for the 


/ THE PLAYMATE NIGHTSHIRT AND NIGHTCAP. 


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Shall we enclose a gift card in your name? 


Send check or money order to: 
PLAYBOY PRODUCTS 
232 East Dhio Street, Chicago 11, Illinois 


— Exotic — 


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HOMEY BACK GUARANTEE (D we: 


x 


sports car today requires double-clutch- 
ing on gear-shifts, except, їп a few cases, 
for first gear, a gcar rarely needed while 
the car is in motion. 


WI, executive position in a large ad- 
vertising agency requires that I attend 
many conferences and dient me 
in distant cities: I take my wife 
on some of these, but certainly not all. 
When I return from the solo jaunts, she 
goes through my wallet and my laundry 
with a magnifying glass, poking about 
and asking me to account for every scc- 
ond of my time away from home. Last 
time I returned, she found a trace of lip- 
stick on one of my handkerchiefs, which 
I quietly explained was the result of an 
innocent buss on the check by the wife 
of one of my clients, the two of whom 
had taken me to dinner. My wife 
screamed bloody murder, called me a 


cheat and winged me with a Wedgwood 
out of the 
little 


urn; I, in turn, stormed 
house—and there's been peace 
since. Tell me — short of tal y wife 
along on every business junket, which 
would be both a fi al burden and 
a social bore — what is the solution for 
d man who must travel and 
lous wife on return? — P. 
New York, New York. 

Га Rochefoucauld observed, 
“Jealousy feeds upon suspicion, and it 
turns into fury or it ends as soon as we 
pass from suspicion to certaine 
in your wife's case certainty clearly 
in fury, you should see to it that she 
never finds the slightest cause for alarum 
in your excursions. The best way to 
achieve this end is also the simplest one: 
don't cheat. Obviously such guilt-edged 
accidents as the wayward buss that caused 
your curent malaise won't happen 
often; lacking nourishment, her suspi- 
cions should eventually die. Until that 
happy demise, you should treat her prob- 
ings with as much patience and under- 
standing as you can muster; after all, 
а woman's jealousy defies rational argu- 
ment, and your peace of mind would 
probably be in а far worse state if 
she patently didn’t give a damn what 
you did. If, on the other hand, you do 
occasionally graze in greener pastures, 
and irrefutable spoor of same is found 
by your spouse, the blame and the clam- 
orous consequences thereof are yours. 


once 


All reasonable questions — from fash- 
ion, food and drink, hi-fi and sports cars 
to dating dilemmas, taste and etiquette 
—will be personally answered if the 
writer includes a stamped, self-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 cach month. 


PLAYBOY’S INTERNATIONAL DATEBOOK 


BY PATRICK CHASE 


ONE OF 


п BRIGHTER IDEAS of March is 
into a month of sun days spent 
far from habitual haunts— there's no 
better time to shake off late-winter dol- 
drums. While selecting your vacation site, 
we suggest you pay particular heed to the 
blues-banishing dimate and palm-fringed 
benefits of the Hawaiian Islands, whose 
scenic beauty is abetted by cherry blos- 
soms during March, Here the outer 
Neighbor Islands are becoming increas- 
ingly as more and more knowledge- 
able journeymen bypass honky-tonk 
Honolulu in favor of less publicized, 
more pleasurable watering spots. 

Our favorite is the bountiful island of 
Kauai, A 20-minute spin from Lihue Air- 
port will bring you to the spanking new 
Waiohai Hotel, where a memorably soft 
existence may be led in and out of the 
resorts bungalows that are scattered in 
tropi ardens from the sea and salt- 
water swimming pool at one end of white 
Poipu Beach to the freshwater pool ad- 
jacent to the tennis court and first-rate 
dining ledge. Those who prefer accom- 


modating themselves in a livelier big- 
resort atmosphere should sign in at the 

Isle Hotel, а 250-room hostelry 
"s Wailua golf course. The 


Garde 
set beside Капа 
hotel houses its guests in a series of mod- 
ern, garden-located buildings with mag- 
ent vistas over ocean, mountain and 
lagoon, and is equipped with an impres- 
sive array of facilities that includes shops, 
gymnasium, steam baths, night club and 
cocktail lanai. While Kauai is widely rec- 
ognized as a superlative launching site for 
deep-sea fishing excursions, not many 
sportsmen realize that the island is also 
an extremely happy hunting ground. 
Fine bases for upland shoots may be 
found near Waimea Canyon. 

On most of the islands you can hire a 
jeep for extemporancous back-road cx- 
cursions; on Maui, for example, for 
around $6 a day plus a dime a mile your 
rented roadster will spin you up to the 
rim of Haleakala Crater or along a spec- 
tacular diff-hanger of a road containing 
some 900-odd curves in one 20-milc 
stretch, or on an c: int through the 
lush ao Valley and along the coast to 
the old whaling port of Lahaina. All-day 
jeep caravan tours around and about 
Oahu (at $16 per vehicle) hit scenic 
highlights such as Koko Head Crater and 
the Pali cliffs of the Koolau Range, and. 
include change-of-p:ice stop-olls for swim- 
ming and fishing at beaches of promise 
like Kaupo and Kalama. At any time, 
you're free to peel off оп your own 
detour — perhaps for a glass-bottomed— 
boat ride out of Heeia — thence to rejoin 
the guided caravan, 


The island Eden most accessible to 
near Easterners is, of course, Bermuda, 
status assembly-point of spring's college- 


week celebrators. Among the early rights 


of spring here are convivial colonial night 
life and the watery pleasures of the Ber- 
muda day; for enjoyment of same you 
can rent a houseboat (a typical one sleeps 
four and goes for about 5125 a week), or 
stay at one of the hotels that 


ig for $150 per person. Water sportsmen 
should take note of two unusual aqu: 
opportunities: For $9 an hour you cin 
rent novel power skis (a double-pontoon 
affair powered by an outboard motor and 
steered by the simple process of leaning 
to one side or the other) and tool in and 
out of coves and past the water taxis and 
ferries of the Great Sound at speeds up 
to 25 mph; the island also offers two 
schools in advanced waterskiing that give 
expert counsel in the protected waters of 
Mangrove Bay or recf-locked Ely's Har- 
bour on such tricky aboveboard mancu- 
vers as single slalom, backward skiing and 
jumping. For $10 a lesson, exp: ed 
skiers can get the hang of those huge 
kites that, under the boats pull, waft 
one several hundred feet above the water 
stunt every bit as difficult looks. 

March is the classic cruise season, and 
for those with the wherewithal the where 
might well be South America. To com- 
plement the salt-tanged days of swim- 

ing, sunning, dining and dancing 
aboard your floating resort, you'll debark 
in countries of abounding interest still 
underexploited touristically. Typi 
the unsung high-style way stations that 
dot the cast coast is an old ranch called 
Pinera Azul, 45 minutes out of Buenos 
Aires. Visitors are driven to the Spanish 
Colonial ranch house in time for cock- 
tails before lunch. While you sip your 
patio potation in the cooling shade of 
grapevines, native dancers and singers 
make heady cocktail music with guitars, 
charangos, ukuleles, bongo drums 
queñas flutes. The pampas p: 
continues with a lunch of empanadas 
(small meat pies) pit-roasted asado of 
beef, salads and Argentine wines. In the 
afternoon, you can dip in the pool, stroll 
through gardened grounds beneath tow- 
ering pines, eucalyptus and morera trees, 
the venerable home ivelf. ‘The 
ing, like many in S.A., is unabashedly 
antic, and cause enough for any man 
to hcad south of the border for a well- 
carned spree of carefree carousing. 

For further information on any of the 
above, write to Playboy Reader Sero- 
ice, 232 E. Ohio St, Chicago 11, Ш. ËJ 


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THE PLAYBOY PHILOSOPHY 


part two: playboy's editor-publisher spells out—for friends and critics alike—our guiding 


PLAYBOY HAS BECOME an increasingly 
popular topic of conversation over the 
last year or two, and comment on our 
success has often included discussion 
ad debate on our doctrine and our edi 
torial point of view—in the popula 
press and various journals of opinion, 
as well as around the office water cooler, 
at fraternity bull sessions, at cock 


parties, club gatherings and wherever 
clse urban men and women exchange 
ideas. Ha card so many others ex 


-AYnOv is all about, we'v 


plain wha 


feel 
PLAYROY represents in presentday so 
ciety, permitting ourself а few perso 
ides on socicty itself along the way. 
Last month we offered some opening 
Observations on PLAYBOY'S critics and 
pointed out that negative comment on 
vi ly takes two very 
different. forms: There 
ticize PLAYBOY for its conten! — cei 
tain specific features of which they do 
prove; while others object to the 
ion's concept — ће overall edi- 
viewpoint expressed in the m 
ich month. 
critics Of content are the ca 
swer. Few would quarrel with the 
overall excellence of the magazine's fic- 
tion and articles (a list of writers like 
the ones contributing to this issue speaks 
for itself) and rrAvmov has received 
more honors, awards and certificates of 
merit for its art, photography, printing 
d design, during the last hal-dozen 
rs. than almost any other magazine 
in America. The criticism of content 
soon seen to be largely a matter of 
and primarily pictorial sex, at that. For 
some few, a photograph of the female 
figure — no matter how attractively 
posed — is embarrassing, objectionable 


а: 


acu 


are some who 


and even downright sinful In fact, one 
sometimes gets the feeling that the 
more attractively posed — and therefore 


appealing — the female is, the more ob- 
jectionable and sinful she becomes to 
the critical. In order to ct in this 
way. of course, one must believe that 
sex itself is objectionable and sinful — 
especially as typified by a beautiful 


principles and editorial credo 


editorial By Hugh M. Hefner 


n. Fortunately only а twisted. few 
ble to fully accept such а neg: 
iew of God's handiwork, but the witch- 
burning Puritanism, which associated the 
Devil with all things of the flesh, and 
which formed a part of our early re- 
ligious heritage in America, has left its 
mark on many morc. And so the prude, 
the prig, the censor and the Dluenose 
have a ready band of followers wil 
to bowdlerize che world’s greatest liter- 
ature; destroy the too-sugsestive art and 
sculpture; clip, cut and mutilate the 
cinema; determine — not just for them- 
selves, but for their neighbors as well — 
what can and cannot be shown on televi- 
sion, what m nd newspapers 
can and cannot print, what plays the 
ter can and cannot present; burning, 

ing, defacing, purging, 
n the пате of Him who w 
Creator of all these things in the be; 
. And if they could find some means 
jer by which they might burn 
from the memory of man every sensual 
g of the flesh, every 
iven pleasure of the body, we have 
no doubt that some would seize the 
opportunity with much veal and joy. 
This, we suggest, is man at his most 
masochistic — man at his self-destructive 
ultimate. For here man tries to destroy 
not simply the body, but the very mind 
of all humankind. If a person can look 
at the picture of a beautiful woman and 
find ugliness there, and obscenity, then 
only be that he s that w 
ness and obscenity within himself. If 
beauty is in the cye of the beholder, so 
is its opposite. 


THE CRITICISM OF CONCEPT 


purifying, 
the 


or ma 


The critics of PLAYBov's editorial con- 
cept are not so easily answered. Sex plays 
a part in their attitudes, too, of course, 
but it is a more sophisticated and сот- 
plex criticism, as when Harvey Cox, in 
wi Playboy's Doctrine of Male for 
the “Christian Journal of Opinion 
Christianity and Crisis, describes PrAv- 
boy as "basically antisexual" And the 
mitgazine’s attitude toward the male- 


female relationship i 


PLAYBOY'S overemphasis on the super- 
ficial and material things of life. 

According to John A. 
of a Unitarian Church in Santa Barba 
California, who devoted an entire se 
mon to "Philosophy and Phantasy 
Playboy Magaz id What This Su; 
gesis About Us": Pravmov presents “ 
new image of the ideal man. . . . [He] is, 
above all, a skilled consumer ol the 
bountiful flow of goods and services pro- 
duced by our economy of abundance. He 
is a man of discriminating taste, style 
and polish. He knows how to spend 
money with flair. He is a skilled and so- 
phisticated lover, who knows how to 
avoid anything resembling a p 
attachment with his paramours. 

“Not only does рълувоу create a new 
image of the ideal man, it also creates a 
slick little universe all its own . . - It is 
a universe for rather elegant and refined 
consumers, and girls are the grandest of 
all consumer goods. A girl is something, 
like a sports car or a bottle of Scotch or 
gue suit, that is meant to be 
ijoyed by men. But 
with flair, with polish. There ne 
no entangling, no stifling 
playthings, and 
once enjoyed will have to be set aside 
and replaced with others new and Iresh." 

On the same note, Harvey Сох de- 
scribes women as а "Playboy accessory.” 
"After all," he writes, "the most famous 
feature of the magazine is its monthly 
foldout photo of a playmate. She is the 
symbol par excellence of recreational sex. 
When playtime is over, the. playmate's 
function ceases, so she must be made to 
understand the rules of the game. As the 
crew-cut youn 1 in а PLAYBOY С 
toon says to the rumpled and disarrayed 
girl he is passionately embracing, ‘Why 
speak of love at a time like this?’ ” 

And suggesting just how far apart the 
critics of PLAYBOY'S content and concept 
may sometimes be, Cox continues: "Moi 

istic criticisms of rLaysoy fail because 
its antimoralism is one of the few places 
in which PLavuoy is right... . Thus any 
theological critique of PLAYBoy that 


ne, minister 


manent 


4l 


PLAYBOY 


42 


focuses on its ‘lewdness’ will € com- 
pletely. ravnoy and its less successful 
imitator “sex n nes’ at all. 
Th tisexual. They di- 
lute and dissipate authentic sexuality by 
reducing it to an accessory, by keeping it 
at a safe distance.” Cox concludes with: 
Lavnoy the latest and 
kest episode in ma nuing re- 
fusal to be fully huma 
What is PLAYBOY'S 
critics of its concept? Л 
to be some truth in what they say, even 
if we do not agree with their conclusions. 
How is it possible to both agree a 
agree with these critics — accept 


answer to these 
here would seem 


interpre! 
lies in their incomplete unde: 
what PLaynoy really represents 


lieves in. Another part of the 
clearly rooted in a fw 
ence of opinion about life, and the world 
in which we live, that we would like to 
explore at some length. But the best way 
to begin, we think, is through an ex- 
planation of just how pLayuoy was 
initially conceived and why we feel it has 
enjoyed such success in a time when 
many other, older, well-established maga- 
zines have floundered and failed. And 
in fully understanding the pLaywoy phe- 
nomeno! may also gain greater in- 
ight into this en tion and how 
vrown out of the social and eco- 
nomic revolution that has taken place i 
America over the last 60 years. 


THE UNCOMMON MAN 


Within th 
century, the 
undergone a 


escore years of this 
ican personality has 
and dramatic a 
the country isell. The first 
us of the 20th Century were 
racterized by our unbounded faith in 
ourselves, both individually and as a 
nation. We were enjoying the results of 
the industrial revolution, and if the 
streets were not literally paved with 
gold, it was only a technicatity. It was a 
пе of confidence and enthusiasm: it 
s zy, romantic, wonderful time, 
when most men believed they could lift 
themselves by their own bootstraps, even 
if they didn't yet own a pair of boots. 
Boys hungrily consumed the books of 
Horatio Alger (he wrote 119, or, as 
one critic put it, “one book, rewritten 
that sold an almost unbeliev- 
ble 250,000,000 copies) like 
ink or Swim, Strive and Succeed, Do or 
Fame and Fortune. They told a 
youngster that success, yes, and fame and 
too, could be his— no matter 
how humble his beginning — if he was 
industrious, honest and had faith in him- 
sell, his God and his county Noth 
was impossible. Any boy could grow up to 
be President of the U.S., or of US. Steel. 
The United States was the golden 
land of opportunity and freedom — for 


its own people and for the rest of the 
world as well Americas promise was 
spelled out in the words inscribed on 
the pedestal of the Statue of Liberty: 


© me your tired, you 
huddled masses ye 


poor, 
ning to 


You 
breathe free 
The wretched refuse of your 


teeming shore, 
Send these, the homeless, tempest- 
tossed, to n 
I lift my lamp be: 
door. 


ide the golden 


These were the years of the Uncom- 
mon Man — when uncommon ambition 
and deeds were the rule rather than the 
exception. These were the years of the 
great national heroes, both fictional and 
Belore World War 1, every young 
man's idol was Frank Merriwell, whose 
exploits in Frank Merriwell at Yale, 
Frank Mertiwell’s Dilemma and The 
Winning Last Quarter-Mile proved the 
importance of pluck, perseverance, honor 
and playing the game according to the 
rules. Merri the ultimate in the 
Uncommon Man — he was, as his creator 
Burt L. Standish modestly informed us in 
adventure after adventure. the greatest 


student and 
known, The so-called Golden of 
Sports was act less that than a 


period in which important sports figures 
(and, indeed, anyone who excelled at al- 
most anything) were acclaimed nation 
heroes. It was a time when an entire 


country could get as cockeyed. excited as 
young ma 
irpl 


"s climbi 
ne and flying across 


a kid ove 
le-motor 
the Atlantic alor 
The era reached its apex in the decade 
now fondly remembered as the Roaring 
Twenties. After the Great War, a new 
sophistication and cynicism spread across 
the Тапа, but the Twenties were 
deal more than Sheiks and Shebas, bath- 
tub gin and the Charleston. B was a 
yeasty time, a time of innovation and 
adventu when new notions and ideas 
were accepted almost as quickly as they 
were born—a period ol important 
growth in science and the arts. It ended 
with the stock market crash late in 1929. 


THE COMMON MAN 


good 


The 10 years of bleak Depression that 
followed the Roaring Twenties me as 
a brutal and sustained shock to the na- 
tional psyche. Some saw im it a terrible 
retribution for the years before — а sort 
of protracted hangover from an eco- 
nomic binge. It was nothing of the sort, 
of course, but the generation wh 
to maturity during the Берге 
fered just the same. 

During the 1930s, worse thin 
hunger afflicted us. It is difficult — n 
most impossible — to hold onto one's 
optimism, individuality and spirit of ad- 


venture, when you cannot earn enough 
to support your family. Intellectual 
achievement and education lose much of 
ge and appeal when a diploma 
offers no assurance of а job after gradu 
nd when the great majority 
iot allord а higher education in any 
isc. Nor is pt to teel particularly 
compe а society that offers him 
almost no opportunity to compete. 


ma 


ive iı 


In place of individual initiative, an 
emphasis on accomplishment and cduca 
tional attainment, a faith in self and in 
Our economic system, а curiosity about 


id dillerent. Ате as became 
у concerned with security, the 
safe and the sure, the cert: ıd the 
known. 

Instead of helping the people to sort 
out thei ul ideals during this 
time of u y and confusion, a 
great many newspapers, magazines ана 
movies actually pandered to the publics 
already growing prejudices. If it was 
especially difficult to get ahead. during 
the Depression, then the popular press 
was perfectly willing to persuade people 
that what they already һай was plenty 
good enough. After all, why make а man 
quest after things he could probably 
never achieve? If his aspirations were 
much beyond his hopes of fulfilling dh 
he would only become frustrated and 
nes, 
adio, too, set about making 
Am ished with their lot, com- 
placent about the status quo. Some 
ıe that if you curbed the na- 
tion's initiative, it could cause incalcu- 
lable damage, but that was an abstract 
I idea and the problems ol 
the time were the only reality. 

This satisfied, complacent, relatively 
free social order was achieved 
in several ways: First, the mass media 
made the wealthy appear to be as sh 
low, ut, foolish and ui i 
possible. Admittedly, m 
self unatu 
doing, but the press апа fil did a 
damned impressive job of the next best 
thing. The Sunday n zine section of 
the Hearst papers of the Thirties had a 
fi ne convincing us that most al 
of society (the socially prominent) and 
neially well to do were either 
scoundrels or scandalous empty-headed 
nincompoops, or both. 
depicted in the mass 
almost always accumulated their 
money (“ill-goucn gaius"? in some 
derhanded or slightly suspect w 
else it was inherited. And in cither ca 
сй and unearned. 
t very much interest i 
hii stories of self-made men, 
who'd prospered, like the heroes of Alger 
d Standish at the start of the Century, 
through the application of pluck, perse 
verance and houest hard work. A catchy 
label is always helpful in more clearly 


the new 
incrca: 


idcas 


cert 


nora 


Ith 


ng we 
active would really take some 


old tii 


un- 


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PLAYBOY 


establishing a desired identity for any 
ıd the press came up with a fine 
rhe Idle Rich. 

In the films, the rich girl-poor boy ro- 
mance, or vice versa, was extremely 

r all through the Thi 
mendously class conscious ir 
this supposedly classless country. And 
bly the wealthy half of the pair, 

md his or her family, turned out to be 
the less thoughtful, practical, considerate 
and nice. Poverty, you see, brings out the 
best in a. person. 

Rich young men were pl 
foppish, foolish, weakling types 
Robert Montgomery, while the 
heroes were portrayed by mo 
fceton-he4round fellows like Gary 
Cooper, Clark Gable, Spencer Tracy, 
Jimmy Stew y Fonda. ‘Tracy 
won his first Academy Award of the 
Thirties for straightening out a rich 
s spoiled youngster (Freddie Barthol- 
ew) im Captains Cour Gable 


ther 
like 
poor 
solid, 


ed Бут 


got 
mans ЖОШ daug 
bert) in t Happened. One Night. Gary 
Cooper fought the good fight for the lit 
ist the forces of evil wealth 
nd power, in Mr. Deeds Goes to Town 
(by inheriting a few million himsell and 
throw the Haves absolute 
ns for spreading the wealth 
number of the Have-Nots, 
up in a sanity hearing for 
Meet John Doe 
mp off the top of a 

Mr. Moneybags, 
played by BECOME tao 
much him). Having apparently 
learned nothing from Coop's chilling ex- 
was а subzero December 
ıt when he climbed out on that roof 
to jump), Jimmy Stewart took on the 
same all-powerful adversary in Mr. Smith 
Goes to Washington (in both pictures 
dirty Arnold was trying to use his mi 
lions to buy his way into the White 
House, but in this one he even had his 
own SSlike motorcycle police corps). 

А typical example of a romantic movie 
made dur (amd there 
arc dozens upon dozeus to choose from) 
was something called Holiday, st 
Cary Grant, пе Hepburn 
Idare Lew Ayres. Cary played 
а handsome, unassuming, high-princi- 
pled, philosophical pauper, who fell 
love with a n ntered, cold- 
asit 
who. Lew Ayres роти: 
foppish, foolish, weakling brother, who 
might have turned out as well a 
we soon realized, if only he hadn't been 
born rich, As it is, he's ап alcoholic. 
What else? 

The wealthy father was a domineering 
maniac, who kept his children under 
his thumb, or tried to. (Edward Arnold 

as apparently busy elsewhere when they 


d 
a 
M 
22 


to an 


around to 
and windin 
his trouble) and again 


lor 


made this onc, because the tyrann 
man was ably played by someone els 
whose name we also don't recall.) Katy 
played a second d. 
unexplained m 
escape the evil taint of Daddy's moola. 

The conflict in the film develops over 
Idy’s insistence that he will consent 
to the marriage only if Cary agrees to 
come to work for him as a vice-president 
in one of his corporations. Miss Rich- 
bitch sides with Daddy, of course, but 
realizes that if he consents, he will 
surcly be corrupted and destroyed, no 
doubt winding up like wealthy, foppish, 
foolish, weakling Lew Ayres, or worse. 
care for a cocktail 


racle, 


And he doesn't eve 
before dinner. 


At this point, it could be legi 
gued that this movie is less concerned 
with a conflict between the virtues of 
acquiring or not acquiring money than 
with the more basic question of whether 
man should give up his individuality, 
idependence and integrity in exchange 
for a solt, secure and purposeless life. 
Obviously, the only thing for Cary to do 
is to tell the old man to shove it, which 
is exactly what he does. But here's the 
rub — and this is what makes this 
ticular picture an especi 
example of the philosophical content of 
Depression-day film fare. Why did Cary 
wrn down the old man’s offer? (And it 
should be mentioned, he thought long, 
id hard before finally deciding to turn 
it down at picture's end.) Exactly what 
was Cary weighing this executive. posi- 
tion in Daddy's fum against? Did he have 
а plan for going into business for hi 
self? Did he prefer to work his way up in 
another company of his own choo 
Did he have the driving urge to become 
a doctor — to heal, to save lives, to get an 
M.D. movie series of his own going before 
Lew Ayres sobered up and latched onto 
the Dr. Kildare gimmick at Depression’s 
end? Maybe he w 
or skyscrapers? Or would he heed the 
call of politics and help Junior Senator 
Jimmy Stewart take care of power-mad 
гага Arnold? Forget it. Cary had 
worked just long enough to save up 
enough money to buy а small boat. He 
was in his middle 20s and he figured 
that work could wait fo 2 years. 
He planned on bumming around the 
world in his boat for the next dozen 
annums. Honest. That's i 
actly where he was I 


Пу interesting 


anted to build bridges 


end. Naturally, Katherine Hepburn 
knew a good thing when she saw it, so 
when her sister bowed out, she tagged 


ht along after Cary — leaving the pur- 
poscless life with the wealthy [amily for 
а purposeless life with а boat bum. No 
doubt she made the best decision under 
the c bum or not, 
Cary Grant is still Cary Grant), but one 
can't help wondering why the makers 


cumstances (boat 


of this movie, like many of their breth- 
ren during the Depression, felt obliged 
to preach a philosophy that said, in 
essence, the best thing in life is sitting 
оп your ass. Actually, we don't wonder 
at all. Since а major part of the country 
wits forced to do little more than sit oi 
ts ass through much of the Depression 
it was just good box office to give them 
ies that said that loafing and doing 
nothing with your lile really desir 
able. Why, look. C 
by choice — he's pas 
lion dollars and mai 
bitch, who thc 


up sever 
age to Miss Rich- 


couple of scenes — and all so he 

could loaf. The public liked that sort of 

soothing syrup, and so the movi 

it to them, and so did the m. 

the newspapers and radio. 
A majority of the movies made during 

the Thirties were musicals, comedies 

other forms of escape entertainment. 

exploiting the publics desire to avoid 

the realities of the times. And when 

r ally 

depressingly No point in 

pout this world 


istic film was made, it was usi 
dow 


beat. 


Initiative, ambition and the accumu 
lation of wealth were not the only vir- 
tues made light of or actually ridiculed 
during the Depression. Education, intel- 
lectual achievement, science and the arts 
took their knocks, as well. By Depre 
sion's end, the press had even come up 
with a suitably negative label for exces- 
sive intellectualism and academic accom- 
plishment: “Egghead.” In place of Picasso, 
we were given Norman Rockwell and in 
place of literature, the Reader's Digest. 
No general truth is without its excep- 
tions and no time is without its virtues. 
The Thirties did witness the positive 
emergence of greater concern for one's 
fellow man and the immense strides 
made in the labor movement, but even 
these worthwhile accomplishments had 
their negative aspects, further 
de-emphasized the individual in favor of 
the group. And concern lor the collective 
many is not always the same as conce 
for each and every separate member of 
society taken as a single person, with his 
dividual hopes and dreams, desires and 


m 


for they 


п the welfare of 
me subtly + 
ol 


man bec: 
imo an ide 
To be an average 
e of the g 
to be. "My. 


the 
formed 
average man. 
part of the ¢ 
Game a pretty 
Average Man” was someone with whom 
everyone could identify and who 
wouldn't be proud to be considered 
AV an”? But just a gener 

tion no Americam worth the 
me would have settled for the notion 
"anything, His aspi 


ave 


before, 


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rations were a good deal higher than that. 
For there is something far better than be- 
ing just average and if most of us aren't 
ing for that something better, then 
the very average itself will drop lower 
and lower, along with our aspirations. 
During the Depression, concern for 
the Common Man turned into a deifica- 
tion of the Common N 
mon ideas and common 
needed an education? V 
sense what really counted? There was no 
room in the Thirties for the uncommon 
, the uncommon accomplishment, the 
uncommon mind or the Uncommon Man. 


n, and of com- 
taste. 


Who 


FALLEN IDOLS 


There were very few great heroes in 
the Thirties, where there had been many 
in the Twenties and before, (The single 
notable exception was F.D.R., who ex- 
isted less as a hero during this time of 
trouble than as a truly national Father 
Figure.) And the temper of the times may 
be most clearly appreciated when we con- 
sider that during the Depression, and 
thereafter, we not only failed to recog- 
nize and acclaim the Uncommon Men 
amongst us, we set about tearing down 
some of the Uncommon Men we'd most 
acdaimed а decade earlier. 

Charles Lindbergh was the greatest 
gle hero of the Twenties. He had 
gained an even greater hold on. Ameri- 
Сау heart in the early 1930s through 
the tragic loss of a child in а world- 
famous kidnap-murder. But when he re- 
turned from a visit to Germany late in 
the decade and expressed the unpopular 
view that we should avoid a war with 
that nation, because her armed might 
would prove too much for us, his ideas 
were not considered the honest, if in- 
accurate, opinions of a sincere and p: 
otic American, they were damned as 
being little short of treason. The Lind- 
bergh Beacon, atop the Palmolive Build- 
ing in Chicago, was promptly renamed 
and the “Lone Eagle” was really alone 
from that time on. The public never 
forgave him. But was it a single unpop- 
ular opinion they were unwilling to for- 
or the fact that he'd been an 


give, 
ncommon hero to them in the first 
place? 


Charles Chaplin is unquestionably the 
greatest comedian the world has ever 
known. He was beloved all through the 
Twenties, not only in America, but 
everywhere. He made some of his most 
delightful feature-length films in the 
‘Thirties, but the U.S. began to cool 
toward the little tramp. They didn't 
ike Chaplin's politics. Born and raised 
in London's slums, he'd always been а 
bit leftof-center politically, but he was 
certainly no active Communist, as some 
suggested. The public didn't care much 
for his personal life either. The U.S. 
Sovernment actually brought criminal 
charges against him for violating the 


Mann Act, because he transported a 
. with whom he was having an 
from one state into another—a 
that, in these days of more 
easily accessible and less expensive trans 
portation, probably over half the adult 
male population of this country has 
committed. And despite the fact that the 
Mann Act was passed to cover white 
slavery, as clearly stated in the law, and 
the “immoral purposes" referred to 
therein, in connection with transporting 
females over state boundaries, is prosti- 
tution, Chaplin was acquitted. 

The spurned female, who had helped 
the Government with that case, then filed 
a paternity suit against Chaplin, claim- 
ing him the father of her illegitimate 
child. He lost that case, despite the fact 
that blood tests proved conclusively tl 
the child could not possibly be hi: 
Neither the public nor the press ever for- 
gave Chaplin for these breaches in good 
conduct. Yet Errol Flynn, who was in- 
volved in matemity and rape suits at 
about the same time, was secretly ad- 
mired by most and generally considered 
to be а lovable scalawag. Charles Beau- 
mont, in his article, Chaplin, published 
in rravpoy (March 1960), commented on 
this paradox: “Flynn, ev 
consorting with girls young enough to be 
his granddaughters, could do no wrong, 
Chaplin could do no right.” And Beau- 
mont also suggested a possible reason for 
this double standard: “Perhaps because 
he [Flynn] did not add to these [his 
affairs] the affront of genius.” 

One of the greatest actors of our time, 
and as much responsible for the carly 
worldwide popularity of movies as any 
other human being, Charles Chaplin was 
never given an Academy Award. His last 
two pictures to be released in the United 
Sunes (Monsieur Verdoux and Lime- 
light) were generally panned here and 
did poorly at the box office, although 
they both won praise and prizes in 
Europe. Badgercd by public, press and 
the U.S. Government (the then Attorne 
General of the United States, James P. 
McGranery, called him an “unsavory 
character” and ordered Immigration au- 
thorities to hold a. hearing to determine 
whether or not Chaplin was an unde- 
sirable alien), he was English and had 
never taken out citizenship. papers, an 
“affront” for which America would 
never forgive him, €haplin finally chose 
exile in Switzerland in 1945. 

We feared that the memory of Charlie's 
genius was fading, for almost nothing 
complimentary had been written about 
him in any large-circulation magazine 
in the previous half-dozen years, so we 
asked Charles Beaumont to write an 
article on Charlie, the talent, as dis- 
tinguished from Chaplin, the man. Be 
mont's article began; "High on the list 
of America’s pet hates is a man who, over 
a 30-year period, gave this nation — 


and every other nation throughout the 
world—a gift valuable beyond р 
and beyond estimation, the most des 
ble and most dificult to receive: 
imperishable gift of joy. 

Beaumont continued: "An anti-Chap- 
lin campaign was begun, calculated by its 
emphases and omissions to present a 
ngle image of Chaplin, so hateful an 
image that some Europe: 
cluded tha s a classic 
guilty conscience . . . 

“Not content to destroy the man, the 
columnists proceeded to attack the man's 
work. Learned students of the cinema, 
such as Hedda Hopper, began to have 
second thoughts about the “so-called 
Chaplin masterpieces.” Were they really 
so great? Were they really as funny as 
they were cracked up to be? . . . 

"Only a few months ago, а logorrhcic 
Hollywood TV personality was asked 
why he persisted in slamming Chaplin. 
"I'll tell you, said the personality. ‘I've 
got nothing against the guy personally. 
What he does is his own business. I'm 
just sick of hearing all this stuff about 
great comic he was. You see one 
of his pictures recently? They're pathetic. 
Stupid. What's funny about a little 
schmo who looks like Hitler and acts like 
a queer? I'll tell you a great comic. Joey 
Frisco. There's a great comi 

"So now even Charlie— as distinct 
from Chaplin — is under attack. It would 
be comforting to think the Little Fellow 
isn't in danger, that nothing so mag 
nificent could possibly perish, but other 
magnificent things have perished, and at 
the hands of men. Why not Charlie too? 
Film doesn't last forever, and memory 
fades. And though we speak of a wonder 
that held the world enchanted for three 
generations, the wonder has demon- 
strably begun to dim. The young in 
America today do not know Chaplin 
all, except as the monster the press has 
built, and that is sad. Unless they Ip 
in the few great cities of the nation [in 
which some few Chaplin films still are 
shown], they don't know Charlie, either. 
And that is t - For the artist and 
his art, separable as they may and must 
be, are of vital importance to the cu 
tural and moral development of Ame 
ica. If we allow ourselves to forget what 
we had, then we shall never understand 
what we lost, and that will make us poor 
deed. 

‘1 have a notion that he suffers from 
a nostalgia of the slums.’ So wrote Somer- 
set Maugham of his friend Charles Spe 
cer Chaplin, touching upon one of the 
great secrets of Chaplin’s art. From the 
ning it has been a celebration and 
а mockery of the earth's poor. Celebra 
tion because while we breathe, cven ii 
the danke: ir of the lowest slum, we 
live, and life is sacred; mockery because, 
in Chaplin's words, “The poor deserve 
to be mocked! What fools they arel’ 


the 


twa 


47 


PLAYBOY 


What holy fools, he should have added, 
for that must be the final description of 
is masterpiece, Charlie. 

. Dispensing love, he received love 
in return; and his fame grew, like a vast 
silvery balloon. 

“That this must have its effect upon a 
man is, or should be, self-evident. Chap- 
lin the man had always been withdrawn. 
The sudden overwhelming popularity 
used him to withdraw further. People 
did not understand. They did not under 


gh Charlie, and that 
ing put into Charlie all that was wild 
id fine and sweet in him, there was 
little left over. 

"But people have a way of resenting 
great artists. A man may travel to the 
searing center of his soul and come out 
with and the world will ask 
him why he h aged his shirt. 

“This is what the world — our Amer 
ican world — began to ask Chaplin. Over 
а 20 period, woi 20 hours а 
day, he was making the finest films any 
one had ever seen, distilling his genius 


iew visioi 


to its greatest perfection. .. . And peo- 
ple hed, but they did not forgiv 


For while Chaplin was dishing up these 
delights, he was living a life described by 
columnists as 'unnormal." 

“To ask an artist to please everyone 
with his life t is both 
stupid and unfair. Even if all the charges 
leveled against Chaplin were true, Amer- 
ica’s attitude would be difficult to under- 
stand. As the charges are almost entirely 
false, the attitude is inexplicable.” 

Beaumont concluded: “It is for these 
reasons, for his occasional we 
а person and for hi: 
an artist, that Charles Chapli 
one of the most despised men in / 
ica. Now, in Vevey, Switzerland, he lives 
quietly with his wife a ven children 
-one of whom this remarkable ma 
sired only recently, despite the fact that 
he is in his 70s. Because he is in his 70s, 
Chaplin will, before long, die. And then 
because his legend has been all but de 
stroyed, he will probably be forgotten, as 
most men arc. 

“But what Chaplin cr 
not allow to be forgotten: Gharlie the 
fool. Charlie the clown. Cha 
spirit of Man, walking with a go: 
skip in his oversize shocs and a hitch of 
his baggy pants— bewildered, but u 
[raid — into the unknown. Charlie, the 
best of us" 

A bit later, near the end of this edi. 
tor to dist a number of 
specifics in which PLaynoy believes. You 

пау put one down now, ahead of time: 
We believe wholeheartedly in the Un- 


5 well as hi 


nesses as 


ed we must 


common Man n his right to be 
uncommon. There is perhaps no single 
belief that is more nt to us, It i; 


in mi a differences, 


's Godgiv more 


than his similarities, that we find the 
very best of him. And our America was 
founded on the unique understanding 
that through man’s differences, and the 
fullest protection of their free expression, 
we might create the most perfect society 
yet conceived. 

PLAYBOY has never done much direct 
cditorializing — this present piece is a 
rare exception — but regular readers have 
to know the things we believe 
through the subjects we choose to write 
about and what we choose to say about 
them. One of the things we believe in 
is the Uncommon Man, 
ine has included articles on 
mon Men from its cart 
lin, Frank Lloyd Wright, Hemingway, 
Charlie Parker, Stirlii Moss. We've 
commented upon their uncommon n 
tures and expounded their uncommon 


come 


ind the m 
Uncom- 
st issues — Chap- 


ver been big on quotations 
or precepts, but we have two that we 
took for ourself in our early 
they've formed a pair of guiding princi- 
ples by which we've tried to shape our 
fe. 


"Thi: 
self be truc, 


The first 
own 


bove all, to thine 
nd thou canst not 
ny man." 
A man’s reach should ex- 
‚ else what's a heaven for.” 
Our article on Chaplin produced more 
warm compliments and comment. from 
readers than any other personality profile 
we have ever published: George Jessel 
wired, “THE PIECE ABOUT CHARLIE CHA 
LIN WRITTEN BY CHARLES BEAUMONT I5 THE 
MOST SENSITIVE AND TOLERANT PORTRATT 
OF A MAN THAT 1 HAVE EVER READ, WITH 
Tur POSSIBLE EXCEPTION DERTRANI 
RUSSELL ON TOM PAYNE." Hollis Alpert 
wrote, 7. .. a wise, balanced and warm 
description of the artist and hi 
too, before his 1 
(ler completely from his 
gnorant detractors. Со 
ms on PLAYBOY'S judgment and 
publishing the article." Paul 
DeWitt, ". . . Am essay worthy of the 
hest praise. An eloquent tribute to 
опе of the most misunderstood men of 
our time.” Dore Schary, “The Chap! 
article w by Charles Beaumoni 
good piece; a warm and sympathetic re 
counting of a tr: les B. Yulisl 
"The "protective" 
films will no doubt continue 
Philistiv ning of his 
truly sorry for those who participate in 
such. 1 am more sorry, howe for the 
millions who will never share the exper 
ence of crying during the ending of City 
Lights, or roaring at Chaplin's comic 
mastery in Limelight.” Herman G. Wein 
berg, "Bravo! I refer to that Chaplin 
piece by Beaumont. It needed to be said 
and Im glad it was rLAYBov who said it.” 
These letters appeared in our July 
1900 letters column. We had also 


o 


About time 
reputation 


courage ў 


hed an article on the Acad. 
April 


cently pul 
my Awards (The Oscar Syndrome 
1960) by Dalton Trumbo, a man unusu 
ly well-qualified to write on the subject 
since he is one of Hollywood's finest 
screenwriters and had only recently wou 
n Oscar himself, pseudonymously, lor 
scripting The Brave One as "Robert 
Rich,” because he had been blacklisted 
in Hollywood and could not write there 
using his own name. His artide w 
personal, provocative and stimulating of 
thought. We published it before he suc 
ceeded in breaking through the blacklist 
so his thous all the more 


hts wer 


vitriolic and searing. A few months later, 
own name appeared on a screen 
credit, lor the first time in 12 years— 


first on Spartacus and then Exodus. We 
1 also made the serious error of in- 
Larry Adler to perform on our 
television show, Playboy's Penthouse 
Our only excuse, and we must admit it's 
Adler is the 
virtuoso on the harmon the man re- 
sponsible for getting the mouth organ 
accepted as a musical instrument instead 
of a toy, and we felt our viewers would 
find him entertaining. We had по idea 
that Adler, too, was оп somebody's litte 
black list, but he And we think it 
only fair to add that if we had known 
he was on somebody's little black list, it 
wouldn't have mattered a bit. 
Nevertheless, the profile on Chaplin. 
the article by Trumbo and the TV ap- 
pearance of Adler were enough to 
prompt a few letters of quite a different 
sort, and we published those, too, in 
July 1960: A. C. Cohn wrote, "Chaplin 
in your m on your 
ш; а stink iu 
the nostrils of the American peopl 
T. F. Hanson asked. “What's the matter 
with PLAYBOY? 15 it beginning to follow 
the Communist party line?" And R. E 
Chasen wrote, "Please cancel my sub- 
scription at once. First, the hearts 
and-flowers for Chaplin, then Dalton 
Trumbo. As ent. it becomes 
impossible to cont 
All this sound and fury (the ratio r; 
nearly 30 to 1 in favor of the Chap 
and Trumbo articles) gave us one of our 
are opportunities to spell out (iu an 
er in the letters column) а portion 
avnoy’s philosophy: “pLaynoy sim 
cerely believes that this nation is big 
enough, strong enough and right enough 
to give free expression to the 
the talents of every man 
without fear of being hurt by any man’s 
individual weaknesses or follies. We be- 
lieve, too, that no good idea, no impor- 
tant work of art and no meaningful talent 
becomes less good, less important оз less 
meaningful because it comes from a 
doubtful source, You don't have to be a 
homosexual to read Oscar Wilde or an 
alcoholic and a drug addict to appreciate 
the prose and poetry of Edgar Allan Poc. 


a slim one, was because 


ideas and 
among us 


It is also possible to recognize the comic 
genius of Chaplin, read an article on the 
Academy Awards by Dalton Trumbo and 
enjoy the music of Larry Adler without 
necessarily approving of either the men 
or their personal philosophies of life. For 
the record, of course, none of these men 
has ever been proven a Communist — a 
malter of some importance in this coun- 
Iy that prides itself on fair play and 
believing a man innocent until. proven 
guilty. But that’s really beside the point 
— for we also appreciate Picasso as one 
of the world’s greatest living artists, and 
a Communist. Politics may 
be important in government, where na- 
tional security is a vital consideration, 
but it has no place in art and literature. 
Not if America’s art and literature, and 


we know he 


indeed the country itself, are to remain 


fluence establishing and re-establishing 
these basic concepts of freedom upon 
which our nation is built. If PLAYBOY 
In't spoken up in behalf of Chaplin 
п 1960, no one else would ha 
rate, no one else did — no оће 
iazine — either before or after. Ch 
lin wasn't а very popular cause. But it's 
important to voice opinions on unpopu- 
lar causes, too, when there is something 
that deserves to be said. 

k in the 19305, there was a ce 
hue and cry for social reform and some 
of it was good and some of it wasn't, but 
almost no attention was given to the 
most important single item in a free 
ciety — the significance of the individ- 
ual and his right to be different. 


n 


THE INVISIBLE MAN 


Whether the country would have re- 
covered from the psychic depression as 
readily as it did from the economic de- 
ion will never be known: the Sec- 
па World War us alf decade 
demanding a high degree of rigid con- 
lormity. So Americans gave up willingly 
what individuality they had left, and 
gladly, in order to exert a total and uni- 
fied effort in the defeat of the enemy. In 
followed the firing of the 
nd shell, a quiet searching out 
of the things that we had won (and lost) 
in the war might have been expected, 
but instead the shrill voices of extremists 
both the far Left and Ri tered 
пу hope of a peaceful time at war's 
end. Americans became aware of the 
Commu threat [rom without 
the di among us used 
of Communists within to trample human 
his and individua 
ter power. McC 
America in the middle Forties. Congres- 
sional committees on un-American activi- 
ties investigated nterrogated the 
common citizen well as our greatest 
scientists, our university faculties and 


ed in a 


ad 


our clergy; Americans demanded that 
other Americans sign loyalty oaths; the 
communications industry (movies, tele- 
ision and radio) drew up blacklists that 
permanently barred individuals sus- 
pected of politically improper views or 
affiliations; neighbor spied on neighbor: 
brother turned in brother. Anyone who 
had ever been a member of the Com- 
munist Party, for whatever reason (ex- 
cept as an agent for the FBI) and at 
whatever time, was a Red (completely 
ignoring the fact that many misguided 
but sincere and loyal Americans joined 
the Party in the Thirties when Com- 
munist Russia was not our enemy and 
the Forties when she was actually our 
ally); anyone who presently belonged, or 
had ever belonged to any of a hundred 
different clubs, organizations or affilia- 
tions that appeared on any of several 
hundred different lists (made up by al- 
most 


nyone who had some names ау 
able and a mimeograph machine) as 
proCommunist, a Communist front, 
Communist influenced, Communist infil- 
trated, or sympathetic with 
ISC, wi Red: 
who objected to, and spoke out 
the injustice, defamation and pcrsecu- 
tion of these individuals was a “Pinko” 
or a "fellow ti At no time 
America" the label] 
technique more frequently, or success- 
fully, put to use. A real, 100-percent, red- 
white-and-true-blue American was judged 
not by what he stood for, but by what he 
stood against. If it was unwise to voice 
an unpopular point of view during the 
Depression and War, it was positively 
foolhardy once the War had been won, 
for it could cost a man his job and his 
good name. Conformity was the safest 
road: to be outstanding or outspoken 
was to be exposed; to be invisible was 
to be secure. We had created а nati 
of conforming, security-consciou 
¢, group-oriented, nonthinking. 
unquestioning, responsibility-avoid 
visible M. 

In 20 years of Depression, War and 
Post War pressures, we had very nearly 
aged to destroy the fundame 
Said social, econontie and poli 
iefs upon which this nation wa 
founded and through which we had 
prospered and grown. 


THE UPBEAT GENERATION 


America in the late 
first be 
: а new generation 


Somewhere in 
19405 a significant counterwav 
gan to be fel 
coming of age that se 
accept the current shibboleths, chains, 
traditions and taboos. It was попе too 
soon, for America was lagging woefully 
in education, the the sciences and 
world leadership. There were and are 
pessimists who believe the nation drifted 
F the point of no return, We are not 
among them. 


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49 


PLAYBOY 


50 


A small portion of this new genera- 
tion, a colorful fringe only, broke from 
the fetters of conformity in what has 
been called a revolution without ban- 
ners. These were the so-called Beat Gen- 
cration, moder hilists for whom 
it was enough, apparently, to flout and 
defy. For their few number and the 
profound negativism. the Beats at- 
ted an inavedible amount of national 
So much so, in fact, that the 
nation was distracted from a much morc 
significant and larger segment of the 
new generation, a group less colorful on 
the surface thout the beards, berets 
and dirty underwear), but sharing the 
rebellious spirit of the Beats, and equally 
ready to throw olf the shackles of same- 
ness and security. Both groups refused to 
accept the old ideas and ideals passed 
along by the previous conformity-ridden 
generation, but whereas the Beat part of 
new generati стей the old in a 
tive way, simply turning their backs 
on society and ceasing to communicate, 
the rest searched for new answers and 
new opportunities in a spirit t 
positive in the extreme, We've 
these, appropriately we th 
beat G tion. They wing the 
country again and they are, we're 
certain, the only hope America has for 
the [wtu 

Actually, the spirit and attitude of the 
Upbeats is right out of the first part of 
this century it's the same optimistic 
viewpoint and zest for living that made 
| the first place. In the 
)30s and lost faith in 
selves, we hid our individual identities 
within groups, decisions were made by 
committees, companies were run by 
boards; today, a younger and less fearful 
generation seems willing to look the 
future straight in the [ace and spit in 


the Up- 


940s wc our- 


its eye. 

Life calls it the “Take-Over Gener- 
ation” and they devoted an entire issue 
to the subject last fall. "Coming hard 


in its 


over the horizon,” Life wrote 
oduction to the issue, “just beginnit 
to make his presence and his power felt, 
а new breed of American. He is filled 
with purpose and he thinks on a scale 
that often scares his elders. He demands 
responsibility, not because he craves 
authority but because he can get the 
job done. He is, at this moment in his 
tory, starting to take over our destiny. 
7... Younger men and women [are] 
pressing into authority: in government, 
a business, in science, in education and 
the arts. “The guy you give the job to 
23. The guy who tells him what to do 
is 25; says the 39-year-old boss of one of 
the biggest nuclear laboratories in the 
U.S. where all of the concepts as well as 
the people are brand-new. Even in older 
Ате bli: the 
has started. In the big corporation, where 
the old desire for job security is giving 


ments 


way to a new insistence on job oppor 
ing young idea man is 
ng to lay the Organization 
Man to rest.” 

Life noted that the new generation 
was moving so fast that of the 1200 
freshmen entering Harvard last Septem- 
ber, over 10 pi 
prepared to be given the option of start- 
ing right off as sophomores. Life quotes 
your 
of Lawrence Radiation 
saying, “Y. excel, You just can. 
There are very few things in this coun- 
try that can't be figured ош. Most peo- 
ple are just too prone to laz 


ss He 


has made his laboratory, located in 
Livermore, California, a place. "where 
men have the ability to explore their 
own abilities 


“If I went by the book, I couldn't get 

a flight off the ground,” says Lewis B. 
Maytag, Jr, 36-year-old president of 
National Airlines, whom Life describes 
as having “monumental impatience with 
anything that stands in his way when he 
Wants to get something done. He has 
ways been equally impatient with him- 
- He resents what he considers a 


sell 
too helpful, too protective society. ‘Free 
ys. "lets the cream top 


enterprise; he 
out. Suppress this, make everybody a 
common man, and society's in woubl 

Nothing moves fast enough 
Richard L. Dorman, Los Angeles archi 
tect and designer,” according to Life; 
Dick, winner of 10 national awards, is 
co-architect and designer (along with 
Arthur Davis of New Orleans) of the 
Hollywood and San sco Playboy 
Clubs, “1 want to change everythi 
Life quotes h my letter- 
heads, my office, the decorations. 1 want 
to upgrade everything 
20 years of stultifying conform- 
new gen wakened 

natural optimism, rebel spiri 
псе of the indi 
п enthusiasm, a restless 
dissatisfac the status quo, a 
ing to know more and experi 
more is typical of youth in 
Americ g 
most successfully put this youthful vigor 
d attitude to work as a national dream. 


The dream got lost for a time — for 20 
years to be more precise — but the new 
gem the Upbeat Generation 


though it grew up through the Thirties 
d Forties, was relatively unalfected by 
the profound negativism of those two 
decades. Lis members were too young to 
feel the hardship and humiliation of the 
Depresion and without the real fears 

d frustrations of the Thirties branded 
deep imo their psyches, they were able 
to shake off the conformity of the War 
years and the threats of the. Post War 
period with relative ease 

The manner in which America finally 
rejected and struck down McCarthyism 


in the mid-Fifties should have proved the 
changing temper of the time 
was other evidence of start 
available as carly as the late 1940s. for 
¢ who could read the signs: The new 
ed the frisky and ro- 
mantic side of its nature by starting a 
love affair with the Re ng “Twenties — 
the decade it has come to most resemble 
in mood and attitude. It began with the 
resurrection of F. Scott Fitzgerald, the 
author most associated with the Jazz Age: 
Fitzgerald had not been popular since 
before the Depression and when he died 
in 1940 every one ol his books was out 
of print, but suddenly he one of 
the most lely read. and talked. about 
writers of the day and his popularity, far 
from proving a lad, has continued un 
nished over the last dozen years. Our 
women began wearing fashions adapted 
from those of the Twenties (the Chemise, 
the Sack) and some of the most popular 
styles were almost exact copies. We sa 


thing to be scen in mov 
generation: kept a slight British musical 
titled, The Boy Friend, running month 
after month after month on Broadway, 
because it was an enchanting parody of 
the romantic musicals of the Twenties; 
onal fad of the Jazz 
Age's most famous piece of wearing ap- 
parel, the raccoon coat, a craze that was 
over almost as soon as it had begun, but 
not before Time was able to report that 
Macy's was unable to keep enough in 
stock to handle the orders (we remember 
reaction to that могу in Time: an 
of a dozen industrious ladies 
down in Macy's basement — surrounded. 
h piles of unsold Davy Crockett rac 
coon hats from stock — sewing them to- 
gether into coats for the new fad). And 
some of us even tried to learn the 
Charleston, before the Twist got us by 
default. The Upbeat Generation clearly 
feels a strong kinship with the Roaring, 
Twenties and the two periods share 
much in common in both spirit and 
point of view. The Upbe enjoy 
kicking up their heel ting in 
ihe same sort of fun and frivolity fo 
which the Twenties are most Tamous, but 
they are equally сар nuckling 
down to a particular job and getting it 
s described by Life in its “Tal 
sue, What some fail to realize 
(and this includes a number of PLAYBOY'S 
tics) is the extent to which the lighter 
side of life truly complements the serious 
side: either without the other would re- 
sult in only half a man. The fellow who 
spends all of his time in lei: 
never knows the intense satisfaction that 
is to be had through real accomplish- 
ment; but the man who knows noth 
but his work is equally incomplete. An 
because activity actually begets activity, 
the man who works hard, and plays hard. 


tivity 


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too, will soon find that he is accomplish- 
ing more of both than if he had tried 
to concentrate all or most of his effort 
in only one direction. 

PLAYBOY, of course, 
cerned with the lighter side of life, but 
we have always tried to view man and his 
world as the sum of all of their parts a 
we believe that properly balanced 
the parts should fit together and comple- 
ment one another. 

Our editorial emphasis is оп enter 

i me activity rather 


ment and 1 


the creature comforts and the infinite 
variety of man's more elegant, leisuic- 
time possessions, clearly stress that these 
are the prizes available in our society 
in return for honest endeavor and hard 
work. Thus rraynoy exists, in part, а 
motivation for men to expend gr 
cllort in their work, develop their 
bilities further and climb higher on the 
ladder of success. This is obviously de- 
ble in our competitive, free enter 
prise system, for only by each individual 
striving to do his best does the county 
itself progress and prosper. The fact that 
man is motivated by material posses 
ions and comforts does not mean t 
he has no other interests and that he is 
not also motivated by other nonmaterial 
considerations. The acquisition of prop- 
rty—and in the 1960s property may 
п а handsome bachelor pad, elabo- 
e hi-fi rig and the latest sports car — 
s the cornerstone of our American eco- 
nomic system. And a publication tha 
helps motivate a part of our society to 
work harder to accomplish more, to 


cam more, in order lo enjoy more of 
the material benefits described — to that 
extent, the publication is contributing 


to the economic growth and strength of 
the nation. 


RELIGION AND FREE ENTERPRISE 


Americans actually suller from a sli 
Case of schizophrenia where money 
concerned, Most of us would like to hı 
a goodly supply of it on hand (prefer 
ably tax free), but we also refer to it as 
filthy lucre and the root of all evil. We 
believe in American free enterprise, but 
its natural benefits sometimes m: 
feel guilty. These mixed emotions 
reflection of a schism Бери 
ligio 1 our political, sociol 
economic bel 

On the relig 
Because we spend a relatively few years 
in this world and an eternity in the next, 
none of the things of this world really 


for, as some sage has observed: You can't 
take it with you, not even by Air Express 
The body of a man is soon dead and 
gone, but the soul lives on forever, so it 
would seem only right and natural to 


save most on 


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and recording 


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1963 CATALOG 


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51 


PLAYBOY 


52 


give the bodily comforts, desires and 
ft. From this 


PLAYBOV's editorial interest in fine food 
and drink, male fashion, cars, hi-fi, ap: 
ment design, and such would seem super- 
ficial and our concern with sex not 
short of sinful. (We plan on explor 
the matter of sex in some detail, but pre- 
fer to tackle it separately a bit further on.) 
Unitarian minister John A. Crane crit 
icized this so-called superficiality in a ser- 
mon on the magazine: "PLAYnov teaches 
polished consumership for older chil- 
dren,” he said. And also: "The magazi 
presents, implicitly, а new im 
ideal man for its readers, the 
man every modern, liberated, intelligent, 


red-blooded American boy spire to 
be. The ideal man is, above all, a skilled 
consumer of the bountiful flow of goods 


and services produced by our economy 
of abundance. He is a man of discrimi- 
nating taste, style and polish. He knows 
how to spend money with flair.” 

Harvey Cox had this commercial aspect 
of PLAYBOY in mind when he called us 
ste-makers" in an article on 
n Christianity and Crisis 
wd Roy Larson wrote, in Low- 
down on the Upbeats for the Methodist 
publication Motive: “vLaysoy's readers 
+ + + need never make the mistake of 
serving YMCA-type foods, for the maga- 
zine has a food editor whose knowledge 
of foods is matched only by his knowl 
edge of the psychology of the young 
urban ma favorite food article ap- 
peared in one of the early issues under 
the title The Sophisticated Cheese. Alter 
extolling the virtues of what he called 
n urbane bacteria, the author went 
on to suggest that one can measure the 
degree of one’s maturity by one’s choice 
in cheese. 

“More specifically, he said: “The best 
inds of cheese are never eaten by young- 
sters. A growing boy will gobble down a 
Swiss cheese on rye at the corner drug- 
store, but he will consistently drown all 
the cheese flavor with a double-rich 
malted milk. After his graduation from 
college he'll k to appreciate a Welsh 
Rabbit, but he'll not be able to tell the 
difference between French i 
‘Trappist until he reaches hi 

H you are now weighing the full im- 
plications in this criticism of PLAYsOY's 
“polished cousumership," along with the 
church doctrine that hes behind it, you 
bout to make the rather disturbing 
discovery (or perhaps you'd already made 
он and free enterprise 


“dictatorial 


are, in ncompatible. 
The really our religious 
life are intin 


twined in our dream of a free democratic 
society, but certain of the old traditions 
and taboos, conceived nother world 
and another age, then 
part of organized rel 


centuries, are as much in conflict with 
our present« ica as the. 
Mormon beli 
few short ye 

Perhaps the notions that poverty is 
holier than wealth, and the poor are 
more certain to receive eternal salvation 
than the h. made some sense 
jous preachment many centuries ago, 
when almost all men were paupers and 
certain to remain that way; they make 
very little sense in America today, how- 
ever, where every man has an oppor- 
tunity to better himself. Perhaps the 
solemn claim that the meck shall inherit 
the time and place where 
slaves; but free men 
ve a tight to be heard, 
сє, have a right to 
take pride in their 


s re- 


have 
be dillerent 
differences. 
If what many of us profess to bel 
religiously were actually applied to Amer- 
ican social, political а 
we would have a system more 1 
than capitalis. Much of 
still remaining in today's ot 
ion tends to de-emphasize com- 
petition and the importance of the 
individual; a sort of selfless interest in 
helping others, without doing 
with 
nherent 


ıd economic life, 
arly 
the 


to help oneself is stressed, 
attention often gi 
weaknesses than his strei ссот- 
plishments in this world are of relatively 
minor importance and physical comforts 
and pleasures are often frowned upon 
nd sometimes thought to be sinful. 

We're applying 16th Century 


religi 


ıo a 20th Century world; a more sophi: 
ticated time requires a more sophisti- 


nd soul are i 
mony with one 


that ma 
confit 


"s body, mind 
ather than hi 


and the idea that man was 
d upon this world. but not 
pected to accomplish. anything while 


here, se 
success, and in 


Шу inane. Jn man's 
s struggling for success, 


з benefit as well as he, himself: and 
i nd sometimes truth. or 
beauty, as well — gets advanced another 


notch. H it were not for this, 
were not allowed to struggle and dre: 
d accomplish wondrous things on his 
little planet, there would be no point to 
his existence here at all, and it would 
require a very strange and calloused God 
to play so pointless and cruel a joke on 
all man 

To some of us capitalism is almost a 
dirty word. It shouldn't be. It's time 
Americans stopped being embarrassed 
and almost ashamed of their form of 
government and their economy. It's the 
best two-horse parlay in the world and 
perhaps if we were more fully sold on 

ourselves, we could do a better job 
of selling it to other countries. It is cer 
tainly essential for us to dean out 
areas of confusion im our thinking — 


like the free enterp 
conflict—so that we 
what it is we do believe in. Whole coun 
tries are often won to one side or the 
other with ideas the . This is not a 
time to be vague or uncertain. 


fully unde 


ows largest bank holding corpo 
nationally syndicated 
newspaper column on business and gov 
er tly wrote: "What we have 
in American free enterprise is an almost 
perfect blending of the forces that moti- 
vate people. It combines eq 
portunity and freedom of ch 
our dominant individual traits of acqu 
itiveness and competitiveness. 
If we were looking Гог additional evi- 
dence of the merits of the free enterprise 
ystem, we couldn't ask for much more 
dramatic proof than East and West Ber- 
lin today. The contrast between the two 
ves of that once whole city — one re 
building under a democratic free econ 
omy and the other under Communist 
socialism — says more than any business 
or financial expert ever could. And so do 
the East Berliners scrambling to escape 
over and under the hated. all that sep 
Tates the two sectors. 
here's another bit of negative evi- 
dence here in the U.S. that de: 
comment, too. During the Бер: 
the Thirties, this country came as close 
to socialism as it ever has, with the Gov- 
ernment creating hundreds of thousands 
of jobs for the unemployed. During that 
period, the optimism, initiative and com- 
petitive spirit that supply a unique spark 
to our Liss ente system. a ur 


ment, rece 


almost every "E activity. 
ng the effect of it now in the 
race for space. Russia used u 
tion to pull ahead of us in missile re 
wd to shorten the gap. between 
the two countries in m аз. 
Where socialism has f; 
has in many areas — Russia has 
duced various capitalistlike inceni 
But one thing Russia bas been unable to 
supply to its program is the spark that 
only a free society has. It can make the 
difference. 


America, a new genera- 
tion is taking over — with all the upbeat 
L. questing impatience and rebel 
ingdo that are needed to put the 
ck in the position of 
unquestioned world leadership. 


In the third and final part of “The 
Playboy Philosophy,” which appears next 
month, Editor Publisher Hugh M. Hefner 
defends the PLAYBOY. editorial attitude 
on sex and discusses the Womanization 
of America and our drift towards an 
Asexual Society. 

Ba 


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54 


HE SERGEANT held the door open for 

the other man. 

А Lieutenant Simmons, Mr. 
Vanyon,” he said. “I wonder would 
you just start over again and tell the 
lieutenant how this all happened?” 

John Vanyon stood to shake hands. 
“Well, I suppose so," he said, “but after 
all, 1 just did tell you . . 

“I know, Mr. Vanyon,” the sergeant 
said, "but I want the lieutenant to hear 
it from you yourself. You got to admit 
this is not any common thing. I mean, 
this is no traffic violation we're dealing 
with here. This is serious.” 

“Yes, I know," Vanyon said. “Very 
well.” He dropped back into the chair. 
They were in a small office opening off 
the squad room. Their chairs were 
pulled up to a battered kitchen table. A 
cofleepot was going on an electric plate. 

“You know who I am, l suppose?" 
Vanyon asked Lieutenant Simmons. 

“I know your name, you're 32, you're 
a professor of music at the University 
and you play the bells up there," Sim- 
mons said. “That's all I know.” 

"Assistant professor,” Vanyon said. 
"And carillonneur. A carillon is a set 
of chromatically tuned bells hung in a 
tower, more than three octaves of them 
... wel . . . in the summer, during 
vacation, I play three times a day, eight 
in the morning, noon, and nine at 
night. For the nine o'clock program I 
usually go into the tower about 8:30 
and practice for a while: we have a 
practice keyboard hooked up to xylo- 
phone bars instead of bells. I did that 
tonight. It was 8:30 when I went imo 
the tower. The rain was beginning,” 

“Did you lock the door bel 

“I closed it,” Vanyon said. “It locks 
itself, it has a spring latch. It swings 
very easily, for all its size. 105 hung on 
ball-bearing hinges, I understand. I 
know it was locked. I heard the bolt 
slide into the slot. It has a slick, oil 
sound. you can't mistake it. 

“I went up to the playing cabin in 
the top of the tower, and then . , .” 

“Excuse me,” Simmons sai 
understand there's an elevator?” 

“Yes, there’s a small one in a corner 
of the tower,” Vanyon said. “This is a 
bare tower, there's nothing inside it but 
the bells a stairway and the elevator. 
‘The elevator is very slow, and as a rule 
l use the stairs.” 

“And the whole tower is about seven 
stories high?” Simmons said. 

“Three hundred-odd feet.” 

“You must be in pretty good shape,” 
Simmons said. 

"I don't know," Vanyon said. “1 sup- 
pose so." 

"You must be strong," Simmons said. 

1 noticed that when we shook 

hands," the sergeant said. "You got a 

strong grip." 


‘All carillonneurs have strong hands,” 
Vanyon said. “The instrument does 
that. At any rate, I went up, and I ran 
through the program 1 intended to play. 
"Then I dimbed into the bell chamber — 
through a trapdoor in the ceiling of the 
cabin — and opened the louvers. I came 
down again and set up the dappers, 
something that must be done every time 
the instrument is played, it's a matter 


Th 
GOLDEN 
FROG 


small and magical, 

the mystic amulet 
bestowed inhuman powers 
on is possessor 


fiction By KEN W. PURDY 


of adjustment. And at nine o'clock I 
began the program. 

‘You'll remember that it was at about 
nine that the storm really broke. I had 
been playing for about five minutes 
when the tower was hit. I understand it 
happens during almost every thunder- 
storm, but this was the first time I was 
there. I must say it was a fantastic sen- 
sation. cre's a lot of noise attendant 
on playing the carillon. One's very close 
to the bells—and we have two that 
weigh seven tons cach — and then there 
is a great clatter from the clapper wires, 
the wooden keys and so on. But when 
the lightning struck I couldn't hear any 
of this over the tremendous crack the 
lightning bolt made. 

“I kept on playing. I fni 


ed the 


program. I fled the music away, went 
up and closed the louvers, all the regu- 
lar things. I put my shirt and jacket on, 
and then I discovered that the door 
wouldn't open." 

“That's the door to the place upstairs, 
you mean?" Simmons said. 

"Right. The playing cabin. 1 couldn't 
move it. I thought I must have locked 
it, absentmindedly, but the latch was 
off. Still, I couldn't budge it. І thought 
of pulling the pins out of the hinges, 
but they were on the outside and I 
couldn't get at them. And the door it- 
self is steel. It's painted to look like 
wood but it's steel.’ 

"No phone in the tower?" 

"No. And before tonight it had never 
occurred to me that there was any need 
for one. But I wasn't really bothered. 
After all, nothing much could happen 
to me. I decided that when the storm 
dicd down I'd toll one of the big bells 
until someone came to the foot of the 
tower. Then I'd throw down the key 
to the main door, wrapped in a note, 
and wait for someone to come up and 
take the cabin door off its hinges. 

"While I was waiting I played some. 
thing on the practice clavier. Then I 
played it on the bells, with the louvers 
Closed, just for myself.” 

“wi id you play?” 

“It was Pleyel's Sonata 3," Vanyon 
said. “After that I played a Welsh 
round, and then I improvised for a 
while. I played until my hands were 
tired. When I stopped I noticed that 
the thunder was barely audible. I 
opened one of the two windows. There 
was almost no rain falling. I looked 
down and that was when I first saw 
him. He was standing in the exact сеп. 
ter of that little place in front of the 
door, in the center of the circle of light 
that falls there, and he was looking up. 
I waved and he waved back. I made a 
gesture to him to wait, and I ran over 
to the bench and scribbled the note, 
which you have now, and wrapped the 
key in it and tossed it to him. He caught 
it, in one hand, and I remember think- 
ing that it seemed very easy for him, he 
just stuck his hand out and took it. He 
read the note and then he moved out 
of sight. He went to the door.” 

"Now, why do you think he didn't 
open it?” Simmons said. 

"For the reason he gave,” Vanyon 
said. "He couldn't." 

“But the sergeant says it opened right 
up for him,” Simmons said. 

"I know, and so did the cabin door. 
But you have to remember, that was 
some time later. My belief is that the 
lightning strike did it somehow — froze 
the. doors to the jambs, both of them." 

"Couldn't" the sergeant said. 

“Well, I couldn't open mine, and he 
said he couldn't open the main door. 1 


PLAYBOY 


56 


beheved him, and I still think he was 
telling the truth.” 

“It’s easier for you to believe some 
of this than it's going to be for me, I 
can tell you that,” Simmons said. 

“из not a question of belief," 
Vanyon said. "Not for me, at least. I 
saw it all. I'm sure the sergeant has told 
you what happened next. He came out 
into the light again, waved in a kind of 
helpless way, clearly trying to indicate 
to me that the key wouldn't work, and 
then he walked over to the corner of the 
tower and began to climb it.” 

“A human fly,” the sergeant said. 

Ir. Vanyon,” Lieutenant Simmons 

"I know what that tower looks 
like, and I have to tell you right now 
that I find what you say hard to be 
lieve. All right, it’s not perfectly smooth. 
Maybe. there's a foothold here and 
there. Here and there, 1 say. But I 
think it would be a rough proposition 
to climb that tower even with a rope. 
Without a rope, 1 say it’s impossible.” 

John Vanyon left them. He wrapped 
a handkerchief around the handle of 
the coffeepot and brought it to the 
table. They shook their heads. He filled 
his cup. 

“Let it 


rattle,” 
hip that cup. 


the sergeant said. 


“Your hand was shaking a little when 
you poured the coffee. 

“Was it?” Vanyon . He carried 
the pot to its stand. "Lieutenant Sim- 
mons,” he said, “I suggest you just let 
me tell you what happened, straight 
through, and after that we can go over 
it and you can ask questions." 

Simmons shrugged heavily. He smiled, 
fat cheeks moving to slit his eyes. 
ine,” he said. "But in that case I'd 
like to get a stenographer in here and 
take it down. Be much casicr for us to 
go over it that way. You have no objec- 
tion, have you?” 

"No," Vanyon said. He didn’t like 
the idea, but he couldn't think of an 
effective argument. He felt vaguely 
trapped, lightly but firmly held, like a 
man lost in a forest. The harshness of 
the room scratched on his nerves. He 
conceived that the two policemen across 
the table were implacably stupid and 
he had to hold down a rising hatred. 

‘The sergeant got up and went out. 

“That storm didn't cool things any,” 
Simmons said. 

“Apparently not,” Vanyon said. 

“Do you play anything besides the — 
how do you say that, carillon?” Sim- 
mons said. 

“Piano and organ. Most carillonneurs 
play one or the other.” 

"I took piano when I was a kid. It 
was a waste. When my wife wanted my 
kid to start I told her nothing doing." 

A tall girl came in. She was carrying 
a little black case, and the sergeant, be- 


hind her, his hand in the small of her 
back, lower than it needed to be, had 
another. 

“Patrolwoman ‘Tierney, Mr. Vanyon,” 
he said. 

She offered her hand. She was strong. 
Vanyon was six feet tall and she looked 
him level in the eye. She was made taller 
by red hair massed around her face, 
the dense, wiry, incompressible kind of 
hair. The lieutenant held a chair and 
she sat down without looking, a girl long 
used to having chairs held for her, but- 
tocks so firm that she seemed to touch 
the chair in two small places only. She 
was a stenotypist and when she had her 
little machine standing on its bandy-legs 
she looked up and smiled. 

“OK, Mr. Vanyon,” Simmons said. 

“He started up the tower,” Vanyon 
said. “He was on the corner, the south- 
west corner to be exact, so that he had 
one foot and one hand on each wall, 
But only for the first 10 feet or so. Then 
he moved over to the south wall. He 
came up fast, just incredibly fast. He 
moved in a practiced way, a habitual 
way, as if he had been up the tower 
before. He moved rhythmically. He 
would reach for a handhold, and then 
a foothold, he'd wait for a beat, then 
lift himself smoothly, reach, wait, lift, 
reach, wait, lift—it was wonderful to 
watch, He came right on up, and I 
could see him: young, dark hair, tan, 
bareheaded, wearing a trench coat. He 
looked up and grinned at me. He had 
very white teeth, or perhaps they just 
looked white because he was so tan. He 
came up to the window and hooked 
his elbows over the sill. He had an en- 
gaging, open look, and he seemed 
young except that his nose had been 
broken, more than once, too. 

“Well, he said, ‘are you asking me 
in? 

“I laughed. ‘You've come all this way, 
why not? I said. 

"He came over the sill and stood in 
the middle of the floor, soaking wet. ‘I 
suppose that's the stuck door, he said, 
‘since it's the only one in the place.’ He 
gave it a shake. "Buggered, he said, 
‘just like the one below." 

“1 introduced myself and he said his 
name was Dennis Rolt. He didn't say 
morc. Judging from his age, 1 took him 
to be a graduate student or an instruc- 
tor. І wasn't surprised at not having 
scen him before. When 10,000 students 
are set down in y of this size... I 
asked him where in the world he had 
learned to climb. 

"In England,’ he said. ‘In my school 
everybody ran up and down the build- 
ings like so many deathwatch beetles. 
One can’t do anything with really mod- 
crn buildings, of course, but anything 
old, or anything fake-Gothic, like this, is 
casy enough. Might as well have lad- 
ders running up them. They take in 


the ladders going down, though. Differ- 
ent matter, going down." 
1 or not,’ I told him, ‘it was very 
good of you to come up, and. .  [ 
stopped there, and he laughed. 
“You don't really know why I did 
come up, do you?’ he said. 
“And I didn't, you know. 
1 could hardly expect to open your 
door if you could not,’ he said, ‘and in 
any case it wouldn't get you out if I 
could, because the onc below’s jammed 
as well. So I didn’t come up to rescue 
you. You can be bloody sure I'm not 
going to offer to carry you down the 
wall on my back’ 
“You're right about that," I said. ‘ 
wouldn't go at the point of a gun.’ 
“And I didn't come to keep you com- 
pany,’ he said. ‘You change ringers 
know you're going to be lonely when 
you sign on.’ 
" 'Carillonneurs; 1 told him. "Change 
i ing clsc agai 
“Its all bells,’ Rolt said. ‘And balls 
to all bells, I say. It's a dreadful kind of 
music. And balls to all music, comes to 
that, bells or по bells. But that’s not 
to say a word against musicians. 
Musicians I'm for. Musicians of all 
kinds and stripes, players of the lute, 
the pipes, the mouth harp, the piano- 
forte, the musical saw, the fiddle and the 
flute. Also all artists of whatever kind, 
from Leonardo to Bernard Buffet; paint- 
ers in oil, watercolor, gouache, butter- 
milk, egg yolk, India ink or stale beer: 
painters on canvas, linen, silk, ivory, wet 
plaster and sidewalks; also engravers, 
masters of mezzotint or whatever; Lord's 
Prayer pinhead specialists; money-makers, 
particularly French money-makers; sculp- 
tors, whether of stone, marble, jade, clay 
or ice for carnivals— all sculptors. par- 
ticularly, in my view, untutored Eskimo 
sculptors sawing away on whale-tooth and 
soapstone; some jewelers, bookbinders, 
chefs de cuisine; one chef d'équipe: three 
unicycle riders and a very few bill collec- 
tors. All those, and a good many more 
and emphatically I am including all ca 
lonncurs and bell-bongers, whether of the 
high degree, the middle or the low." 
“He walked up and down the cat 
very fast, as he talked,” Vanyon said, 
“and first I thought he was drunk and 
then that he was psychotic—crazy. And 
the more he talked the more he did talk. 
His articulation fed on itself. 1 would 
like to have had Miss ‘Tierney there to 
it, because I can't begin to repro- 


Patrolwoman "Tierney smiled, enough 
to suggest that she appreciated the mild 
compliment, not enough to suggest that 
she thought it а jolly idea. 

“I came up,’ Rolt said, “because you 
represent the ideal human person. It 
was perfectly evident, even when who 

(continued on page 88) 


“Surprise! Surprise!” 


WHAT THE COCKTAIL is to the end of 
the office day. champagne js to the end 
of the year. Cast champagne as the 
principal ingredient in a cocktail and 
you have a drmk of absolutely un- 
rivaled éclat. 

As a sparkling status symbol whose 
pedigree is no less prestigious than that. 
of the crowned heads of Europe, cham- 
pagne has no peer among potations. 
Bubbly — be it pale gold or pink — can 
turn a breakfast or a banquet into an 
opulent occasion. On New Year's Eve, 
it is delightfully de rigueur for bidding 
fond farewells or relieved good rid- 
dances to the departing twelvemonth. 

Only those who've never will 
shy away from mixing champagne with 
other potables. To argue, as some ob- 
stinate purists do, that because cham- 
pagne is the most glamorous of all 
wines, it should never be part of a 
mixed drink is likc remonstrating that 
since lobster is the most delectable sea- 
food known to man, it should never be 
“made into lobster newburgh or thermi- 

‘The fact is that in matters bubbly 
verse holds true; because cham- 
radiates its own gilt-edged glory, 
nk into which it’s poured be- 

ously exciting for toasting 


mpagne drinks, only a 
Jack Velvet (a half-and- 
champagne and stout) 
jubblys taste. In all 
‚ cups and cocktails, 
bouquet of the wine 

— remains stead- 
witchery that's 

| your best bet 

ip is to buy 


ty 
f the Concord 


champagnes 
ly with the 


lew Year's Eve 


Гоп page 144) 


ling variations 
a bubbly theme 
for an effervescent 


=) 


` HEW year's eve 


PLAYBOY 


60 


лах «x 


“You're not thinking Christmas, Miss Barnett!” 


A PRIME EXAMPLE of ice sculpture she 
was, the glacial beauty in the come-on 
red dress, holding her own party in the 
corner of the room. Daniel inspected the 
attraction over the heads of her male 
admirers; fortunately, he was the tallest 
man in the crowd. For a moment, their 
eyes met and conducted a brief conver- 
sation, He got himself another drink 
and waited for an opening. 

It came in the kitchen. Ostensibly, 
she was helping the hostess dispense 
lamb curry and little hot frankfurters, 
but she looked painfully undomestic. He 
came to her assistance, and her icy-blue 
eyes traveled from his brush-cut blond 
hair to end at his windmilling bow tie. 

“Crooked,” she said throatily. 

“Fix it," he suggested. 

She obliged without coyness. He in- 
haled the perfume of her dark hair like 
a professional brandy sniller, and then 
explored the terrain of her snowy 
shoulder, He wondered if it would be 
cold to the touch. He was about to find 
out, but became distracted by a small 
jeweled pin that was clasping her neck- 
line together. It was a pin in the shape 
of a glowworm, its extremity luminous 
with a tiny emerald. 

“Pretty pin,” he said. 

Her back went rigid, and she touched 
the pin lightly with a coral fingernail. 
“Does it look familiari" she said, in an 


“Nice of you to help me,” she said. “You might even claim a reward.” 


THE GLOWWORM 


fiction By HENRY SLESAR 


it, too, can turn—especially upon those who misuse its potent powers 


odd voice. 

“Familiar? Why, no, I just think it’s 
pretty.” 

“Oh.” She handed him a tray, and 
blessed him with an incandescent but 
chilly smile. “Very nice of you to help 
me. You might even claim a reward.” 

“What kind of reward?” 

“Meet me on the terrace at 11, and 
ГЇЇ explain.” 

She swept by him. He followed with 
the tray, and spent the intervening time 
talking to an engineer, an advertising 
executive and a woman whose religion 
was skindiving. The girl in the red dress 
(he learned her name from the engineer: 
it was Deborah) vanished within the 
cordon of her private party. 

At 11, he apologized to the skindiving 
enthusiast and went out on the apart- 
ment-house terrace for a breath of air. 
Deborah was there, her profile turned to 
the night. “Well,” he said lightly, “here 
we are.” 

She opened her beaded red bag and 
rummaged for something. She found it, 
and handed it to him without a word. 
He held it toward the light from the 
French windows, and read: 

THE GLOW SOCIETY, DEBORAH LANDIS, 
[23 

There was a handwritten date he 
couldn't read. The card was severe in 
design, except for the small illustration 


of a glowworm with a green posterior. 

“Very interesting,” he said. “Only 
what's it supposed to mean?" 

Now she turned to face him. She was 
beautiful, marblelike, in the blended 
light-and-shadow of the terrace. 

"Your name, please?" she said crisply. 

"Daniel. Daniel Holrood." 

“Mr. Holrood, you must promise me 
that what I say will go no further.” 

He chuckled. "You're not a spy, or 
anything like that? 1 mean, I don't work 
for the Government, you know." 

"I'm not a spy. The Glow Society is 
a strictly private organization. It dates 
back to 1928, and of necessity it must 
maintain absolute secrecy.” 

“Scout's honor,” he "Just tell 
me what the hell it's all about" 

She looked toward the skyline once 
more. 

"It may be dearer if I tell you 
the significance of the Society's name. 
‘The letters stand for ‘Great Lovers of 
the World.' ” 

“Great lovers of the—you must be 
kidding me.” 

“I'm serious, Mr. Holrood. The Glow 
was organized by our founder, Miss Bet- 
tina Rasher, in 1928 at Atlantic City, 
New Jersey. It was formed in the inter- 
est of — attractive women everywhere, 
who are neither anxious to be domesti- 

(concluded on page 164) 


61 


THE NEW YEARS DAY BRUNCH 


zesty provender to fortify post-revelry celebrants 
food and drink By THOMAS MARIO 


Of all the for- 
mulas concocted to cast off the post— 
New Year's Eve pall, none is more likely to recapture 
the previous night’s comradery and smooth the rumpled 
feathers of the late-rising night owl quicker than a festive carly- 
afternoon array of good food and drink. If you're the host of a holiday 
brunch, you're in the particularly attractive position of being able to stick close 
to your own glowing hearthside. Don't let your open house be too open; you'll want 
only those of your confreres and confidantes with whom you honestly enjoy eating and 
drinking. They should come as they are with no particular protocol for dress or diversion. 
A few may arrive at your door exhibiting a slight under-the-weather-beaten look. But after the 
first round of frozen screwdrivers, their listlessness will dissolve into spirited note-trading on the 
previous night's itineraries. This urbane renewal of the year-end's wassailing has its roots in history. 

In the days when New York was Nieuw Amsterdam, Dutch bachelors on New Year's morning always 
called on young Nicuw Amsterdamsels. After eight or ten stops and eight or ten punch bowls, the average 
young Dutchman would begin Zuider Zeeing things, and would then have to be carefully guided home on 
the arms of his nearest Dutch uncle. After your second or third round of drinks, the Japanese New Year's 
celebration lasting an entire week begins to make more and more sense. The proper milieu for your brunch 
is, of course, the inviting expanse before a blazing log fire, close enough to the buffet table to savor the fragrance 
of scrambled eggs and truffles, of finnan haddie and capers, of sausages sizzling in a chafing dish. Although your 
agenda may be vaguely scheduled for a noonish kickoff, the whole day’s docket should be as flexible as possible. 
Brunchers, always a law unto themselves, are entitled to the privilege of eating when they're hungry and drinking 
when they're dry in either order. Only one exception comes to mind. If there’s to be revelry around a bowl of 
creamy eggnog, this event is best billed after the food is offered. The same counsel holds for sherry flips or port 
flips, both of which are quasi desserts and are best enjoyed after eating. Every pick-me-up should produce the 
glowing effects of a hot-and-cold shower, alternately soothing and stimulating. When you mix the bloody marys, 
there should be an extra dash of Tabasco, an extra squirt of lemon juice. Let the jigger runneth over when you 
pour the cognac or kirsch on the rocks. {One of the first duties of the brunchmaster is to set a table that's 
sumptuous, and the most important step in making your table bounteous is to acquire buffet ware that’s 
vivid and inviting. Highly burnished Sheffield silver platters and coffee sets, for instance, once the main 
interest of antiquarians, are now sought after as modern graces of easy entertaining. (Even a New Year's 
Day get-together designed along the lines of a Continental breakfast — juice, rolls and coffee —can be 
done up memorably. A single glass of orange juice or a screwdriver is a somewhat forlorn sight. How 
much more munificent are the very same drinks poured into a deep glass pitcher, resting in an iced 
champagne bucket, surrounded with a wide circle of polished Delmonico glasses or tulip-shaped 
stemware. One of the most auspicious sights on any New Year's Day table is a commodious 
breadbasket piled high with warm quick breads. Today, this kind of prodigality is merely 
a matter of shopping at the right places. If you've access to a French baker, you can 
garner an assortment of brioches, the richest and silkiest of soft rolls, flaky 
croissants so tender they seem to float away when you sample them, long 
salt sticks and crisp club rolls, For partisans of Americana there are 
blueberry muffins, corn muffins and pecan buns, all from the 
frozen-food counters. They require no more toil 
than brief baking or warming in their 
own pan. Pre- 


PLAYBOY 


serves can be lined up, ranging from 
French Bar-le-Duc to Canadian wild blue- 
berry jam to Hawaiian orchid honey. 
Coffee should be in the largest and 
brightest urn and everflowing. In the 
cold light of the morning after, the brew 
should be unadorned and, if anything, a 
little darker than usual. The best coffee 
in the world will taste even better if you 
own an electric grinder and use it right 
before brewing, 

Realistically, however, you'll want 
more than an orange juice, roll and cof- 
fee routine when you're holding a house 
party. But the holiday brunch should 
never be expanded into an overworked 
smorgasbord. Two or three chafing dishes 
of hot food should suffice. Each should be 
cooked and stowed away a day in ad. 
vance, whenever possible, both for better 
flavor and for avoiding the occasional 
confusion that sometimes accompanies 
lastminute preparations If there's a 
small gathering of two or three couples, 
such short gastronomic services as shirred 
eggs, waffles or griddle cakes can be 
proffered. In larger groups one of the 
distaff members of the crowd should be 
designated as tender of the waffle iron or 
griddle iron, filling orders as requested. 

Your only worry in the midst of such 
festive carryingson may well be how 
you're going to keep the following 364 
days from being anticlimactic. 


FROZEN SCREWDRIVERS 
(Serves four) 

6 ozs. frozen undiluted orange juice 

6 ozs. water 

2 cups coarsely cracked ice 

6 ozs. vodka 

Put all ingredients in an electric 
blender, Blend 10 to 15 seconds. 


FROZEN BLOODY MARYS 
(Serves four) 


18-02. can tomato juice 

Juice of 1 lemon 

8 dashes Tabasco sauce 

6 ozs. vodka. 

14 teaspoon celery salt 

14 teaspoon Worcestershire sauce 

Freeze tomato juicc in the icecube 
tray of the refrigerator. Put balance of 
ingredients іп electric. blender. Add 
tomato juicc cubes. Blend until all in- 
gredients are puréed. Move frozen pieces 
of tomato juice toward blender knives 
as necessary. The drink will be quite 
thick and may be served with a spoon. 


COFFEE кєсмос 
(Serves six) 

6 ozs. coffee liqueur 

4 eggs 

6 ozs. heavy sweet cream 

1 quart milk 

2 ozs. cognac 

Ground coriander seed 

Beat eggs well in a large mixing bowl. 


Add coffee liqueur, cream, milk and 
cognac slowly, beating well. Chill thor- 
oughly in refrigerator. Sprinkle with cori- 
ander, after pouring in serving glasses. 


SCRAMBLED ECCS WITH TRUFFLES 
(Serves four) 


12 eggs 

4-07. piece of slab bacon (unsliced) 

гот. tin truffles 

Madeira or sherry wine 

Salt, pepper 

3 ozs. sweet butter 

Cover bacon with cold water in sauce- 
pan. Bring to a boil. Simmer slowly until 
bacon is very tender, about 30 to 40 
minutes. Chill bacon in refrigerator. Cut 
off rind from bottom of bacon. Discard 
id. Cut bacon into thinnest possible 
slices. Cut slices into smallest possible 
dice. Drain truffles. Cut truffles into 
small dice. Cover truffies with Macca: 
Let stand for about | hour. Di 
truffles, discarding Madeira. Beat peus 
well in a deep bowl Add bacon and 
truffles to eggs Add 1⁄4 teaspoon salt 
and Y teaspoon white pepper or more 
to taste. Melt butter in electric skillet 
over low heat. Add eggs. Stir constantly, 
cooking until eggs are soft scrambled. 
Serve with buttered-toast triangles. 


SCRAMBLED EGGS WITH GENOA SALAMI 
(Serves four) 


6 ozs. Genoa salami sliced very thin 

4 medium size fresh tomatoes. 

4 scallions 

12 eggs 

3 ozs. sweet butter 

Salt, white pepper, cayenne pepper 

Bring a saucepan of water to a boil. 
Lower tomatoes into boiling water for 
20 seconds Remove tomatoes from 
water. Place under cold running water 
for a minute. With a sharp paring knife, 
remove tomato skins. Cut out stem 
ends. Cut each tomato in quarters. Press 
gently to remove seeds. Cut tomatoes 
into Yin. dice. Separate slices of salami. 
Place in a shallow pan in oven pre- 
heated at 370° for 20 to 25 minutes or 
until salami is browned. Remove from 
oven. Drain and discard fat. Break salami 
slices into coarse pieces, crumbling it by 
hand. Cut scallions crosswise into thin 
slices, using white part of scallion and 
about 2 in. of green. Beat eggs well. Melt 
butter in electric skillet over low heat. 
Add tomatoes. Sauté until tomatoes are 
tender. Add eggs, salami and scallions. 
Add у teaspoon salt, 1⁄4 teaspoon white 
pepper or more to taste and dash of 
cayenne pepper. Stir constantly, cooking 
until eggs are soft scrambled. Serve with 
sliced toasted Italian or French bread. 


HAM, CHIVE SAUCE, POACHED EGG 
(Serves four) 


1-1b. ham sliced paper thin 
(No. 1 on slicing machine) 


4 tablespoons butter 

2 cups light cream 

2 tablespoons flour 

2 tablespoons fresh chives, minced fine 

Salt, pepper 

3 tablespoons salad oil 

5 tablespoons butter 

4 slices white bread 

4 poached eggs 

(Be sure ham is machinesliced, not 
hand-sliced, and not the usual packaged 
sliced ham.) Tear ham into pieces about 
1 in. square. Place ham in a saucepan 
with 4 tablespoons butter. Sauté over 
low flame, stirring frequently until ham 
is curled, not brown. Blend cream and 
flour in blending machine about 10 
seconds. Pour over ham, bring to a 
boil. Simmer slowly about 5 minutes, 
stirring frequently. Add chives and salt 
and pepper to taste. Keep warm. Heat 
salad oil and 3 tablespoons butter in a 
skillet until butter melts. Fry bread 
until medium brown on both sides. 
Spoon ham mixture over bread on serv- 
ing plates. Place poached egg on top 
of ham. 


CHEESE SOUFFLE WITH BRANDY 
(Serves four) 


6 egg yolks 

6 egg whites 

1⁄4 cup butter 

14 cup flour 

1 cup hot milk 

1⁄4 teaspoon freshly grated nutmeg 

14 cup brandy 

1⁄4 lb. shredded cheddar or Swiss cheese 

1⁄4 teaspoon onion powder 

1⁄4 teaspoon garlic powder 

Salt, pepper 

Melt butter in a heavy saucepan and 
remove from flame as soon as melted. 
Stir in flour slowly with a wire whisk 
until no lumps remain, and very slowly 
add hot milk, stirring constantly. Re- 
turn to moderate flame, simmer 5 min- 
utes, stirring ‘frequently, and remove 
from fire. Beat egg yolks well and stir 
into sauce slowly. Add nutmeg, brandy, 
cheese, onion powder, garlic powder and 
salt and pepper to taste. Place over 
moderate flame and cook, stirring con. 
stantly, until sauce is very thick; then 
remove from flame and let cool an hour. 
Preheat oven to 325°. Beat egg whites 
stif but not dry, until they form soft 
peaks, and fold into cheese mixture. 
‘Turn into a 2-quart casscrole. Bake ap- 
proximately an hour in preheated 325° 
oven or until souffle has risen and is 
golden brown. Serve at once. 

Of one thing you can be certain: Your 
brunch will be a comfortably casual, 
contagiously convivial way of starting 
the New Year off on the right fere. 


— THE PLAYBOY 


|: the wide, and sometimes weird, world of publish- 
ing, 1962 may well be remembered as The Year of 
the Coloring Book. Who before then would have 
guessed that droves of adults would pay loot for the 
privilege of seeing their foibles parodied in sprightly 
facsimilesof children’s entertainment? Whoindeedbut 
three Chicago advertising copywriters—Marcie Hans, 
Dennis Altman and Martin A. Cohen—who started 
the fad with The Executive Coloring Book. To date, it 
has sold nearly 300,000 copies and has spawned scores 
of successors, including The Businessman’s Color- 
ing Book, The Corporation Coloring Book, The Psy- 
chiatric Coloring Book, The JFK Coloring Book, The 
New Frontier Coloring Book and—so help us— The 
Radio Time Buyer’s Coloring Book. Angered at first 
by their imitators, Executives execs filed a fistful 
of suits, but — perhaps mellowed by moola—they have 
since desisted, in favor of issuing a second offering 
of their own— The John Birch Coloring Book. At the 
height—or depth—of this growing glut, The Realist, 
a one-man gadfly journal, got into the act when its 
razor-witted editor, Paul Krassner (who is also a 
PLAYBOY Contributing Editor), suggested several 
icon-tumbling, taste-defying, stuffed-shirt—pricking 
coloring-book titles. Among them are The U.S. Sail- 
ors Rendered Impotent by a Six-Month Cruise on a 
Nuclear Sub Coloring Book, The Braille Coloring Book 
for Use with Finger Paint and The Police Kicking 
S--t Out of Non-Violent Ban the Bomb Demonstrators 
Coloring Book. Eying all of this activity—color our 
eyes jaundiced—we realized we'd be remiss if we did 
not offer our readers a New Year's chance to flex 
their crayons with their own Playboy Coloring Book. 


DRAWINGS BY RALPH CREASMAN 


THIS IS A PLAYBOY. He lives a colorful life. Color him colorful. Would 
you like to be a playboy? You would? Then first, put down your crayons... 


THIS IS WHERE THE PLAYBOY LIVES. It is called a pad. 

The pad is full of toys. There are seven stereo speakers in this picture. 
Find them and color them loud. See the blank picture frames on the wall? 
They are part of the playboy’s modern art collection. 

You may scribble in the blank spaces with your eyes closed. 


HERE IS THE PLAYBOY WITH HIS TWO FAVORITE TOYS. 
The one on the left is called a sports car. Color it fast. The one on the right 
is called a playmate. Color her pretty. Now color the rest of her. The 
playboy’s sports car can do 7000 rpm. How many rpm can the playmate do? 


THESE ARE EXTRA PLAYMATES. Every playboy should have several 
to spare. That is because variety is the spice of life. The playboy 
likes his life spicy. Make one of the girls a blonde. Make one of the girls a 
brunette. Make one of the girls a redhead. It does not matter 
which is which. The girls’ hair colors are interchangeable. So are the girls. 


THIS IS THE PLAYBOY’S LITTLE BLACK BOOK. No playboy 
should be without one. Color it black. Do you have a little black book? 
Good. Write the names, addresses and telephone numbers of the 
prettiest playmates you know in your own little black book. 

After the name, address and phone number, write down the playmate’s vital 
statistics. Also write down your own vital statistics about your 
last date with this playmate. Did you get to first base? 

Did you get to second base? Did you get to third base? Did you score? 
Isn’t this fun? It is just like baseball. Only better. Do not bother to copy 
down the names and numbers from the book on this page. 

They are phony. If you would like to send us your little black 
book after it is all filled out, we will be happy to grade it for you. 
And we will send you a nice thank-you note. Or maybe a get-well card. 


THE PLAYBOY LIVES ON CREDIT. He has a credit 
card for everything. He hasn’t paid cash for anything in the 

last 10 years. Next week he is joining a new credit card 
company. It is the best one of all. With this company’s credit 
card, you can sign for monthly bills you receive 
from other credit card companies. 


THIS IS THE 
PLAYBOY’S BEST VINTAGE 
CHAMPAGNE. He only 
opens a bottle on special 
occasions. It is Saturday night 

and the playboy has a 
playmate in his pad. It is a 
special occasion. So were 
Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, 
Wednesday, Thursday 
and Friday. 


THIS IS THE PLAYBOY’S OFFICE. He goes there to write stories. 
The stories are called expense accounts. The boss must like them because 
he says they are likely stories. The girl in the picture is the 
playboy’s private secretary. The playboy likes to tell her other kinds 
of stories. He has just told a story to his secretary. Color her face red. 
The playboy’s secretary cannot type, or spell, or take shorthand. 
Color her hair yellow, and her eyes green, and her lips red, 
but leave her mind blank. The playboy’s secretary 
has a funny birthmark, but it is covered by her blouse. If you wait 
for a few minutes, perhaps you can color the birthmark. 


THIS IS THE PLAYBOY’S JAPANESE VALET. 
He is laying out the playboy’s English suit, Italian shoes and 
French-cuff shirt. The playboy is very internationally inclined. He is 
thinking about joining the Peace Corps. He thinks he will wait 

until there is an opening in Monte Carlo. 


THE PLAYBOY LIKES FOREIGN 
MOVIES. He likes them because 
they are artistic, sensitive 
and outspoken. Here is a scene 


ur 
ill ; 

—- á from a foreign movie. 
p - Do you see the lady on the screen? 
She is an artistic, sensitive 
actress. Color her panties 
an artistic, sensitive black. 


THE PLAYBOY IS DINING OUT. He dines at only the best restaurants, 
because he is a gourmet. Whatever that means. The playboy and his 
date have ordered chateaubriand, rare. Color it dark brown. 

The playboy is looking for a waiter. Color his face purple. There are five 
waiters hidden in this picture. Can you find them? Neither can the 
playboy. If you find them, color their hearts black. The playboy wishes 
he was home in bed. Color the reason he wishes he was home in bed. 


THE PLAYBOY IS THROWING A PARTY IN HIS PAD. The hi-fi is turned up 
very high. The playboy’s neighbors have just called to complain. They have asked 
him to please lower the sound. It is annoying them. They are vacationing in 
Bermuda. The fat man is telling a crude joke. Color him blue. The 
fat man isn’t much fun at parties, but he is always invited anyway, because 
he is the playboy’s pal. The fat man owns a model agency and he always 
brings his models with him to parties. The playboy chooses his pals 
carefully. Someone must stay after the party is over and help the playboy 
clean up his pad. Who will the playboy invite to stay and help clean up his pad? 
Will the ravishing redhead in the green cocktail dress be invited to stay 

and help? Will the beautiful brunette in the lavender toreador pants, 
who is beating on the bongo drums, be invited to stay and help? 
Will the pretty blonde wearing the glasses, and the strapless dress, and the 
strapless 39-D brassiere be invited to stay and help? One thing is sure, 
the fat man will not be invited to stay and help. 


THE PARTY IS OVER. The playboy is alone in his pad. 

Oh, look, the pretty blonde wearing the glasses, and the strapless dress, 
and the strapless 39-D brassiere has been invited to stay and help. 
She and the playboy are getting better acquainted. Color her eyes 

as azure blue as the Mediterranean at dusk on the Italian Riviera. Color 

her lips the red of the finest wine from France. Color her hair 
as golden yellow as the sun at high noon in Egypt. The playboy has 
promised to take the pretty blonde to all these places. 
Make her glasses rose-colored. Color the playboy’s lies white. 


HERE IS THE PRETTY BLONDE GIRL AGAIN. See how she stands 
in front of the church? She has been standing in front of the church for a 
long while now. Why is she wearing that funny white dress? 
Is she waiting for the playboy? She is going to have a long wait. Color 
this page completely black. Then tear it out and burn it. 


ENISON 


right one 
with this 
trio of 
trailblazing 
attire By ROBERT L. GREEN sweaters 
Atop our sartorial ski poll, I to r: bulky-knit Icelandic-patterned boat-neck lamb‘s-wool 
pullover, by P & M Distributors, $27.50; hand-loomed cable-knit wool-nylon pullover with 


slit collar, silver link-chain closure, by Kingstone, $30; Norwegian-patterned brushed- 
wool cardigan with convertible turtleneck collar, zip front, by Alps, $18. 


LIZ AS CLEO 


an exclusive unveiling 


of a queen 


in a taylor-made role 


WHEN ELIZABETH TAYLOR applied a six- 
inch Egyptian asp to her snowy bosom 
in Rome last summer, and thereby 
brought to a close the celluloid life of 
Cleopatra, the gesture was fraught with 
symbolic irony: While she dispatched the 
Nile Queen, Liz was also w 

to the costliest movie opus in history, 
20h Century-Fox’s nearly calamitous 

copatra. Bedeviled by Elizabeth's 

nesses, hamstrung by pyramiding produc- 
tion costs and plagued by the offscreen 
antics of its principals, the cpic will start 
its run this spring a hefty $37,000,000 
in the red, with the future of Fox's for- 
tunes riding squarely on its box-office 
take. When the first flack-happy press re- 
leases appeared announcing that Queen 


Above: o clutch of Little 
Egypts puts on o floor 
show for banqueting 
Cleopatra (liz! ond her 
Latin lover, Mark Antony 
{Richard Burton), in а 
typically sumptuous 
scene from the Fox ex- 
frovogonzo. liz and 
Richard's — offectionate 
offscreen od liberties 
stirred up on internotion- 
ol ruckus that become c 
couse célébre in gossip 
columns. left ond for 
left: looking like o million 
(considerably less thon 
what she'll earn for her 
portrayol of the Sphinx 
lynx), crowned princess 
Elizabeth Taylor is every 
inch Cleopotro os she 
poses in two of 60 regol 
gowns created for her 
use in the film. It was 
liz’ lock of costume in 
the both scene, how- 
ever, that provoked the 
most publicity coverage. 


81 


left: truly а morsel for o monarch, Flizabeth Taylor heads for the royal both. 


Above: imperial guests cool their heels while liz worms hers in o gigantic tub 
during the filming of the much publicized bathing scene. Opposite, clockwise 
from upper left: Liz cleans up in her Toylor-made port, in the process reveals 
an admirable glimpse of Cleo's cleavage. In o seporate take, Richard Burton does 
the rub-o-dub-dub bit under the tender loving care of a hondmoiden scrub team, 
Following her ablutions, Liz stretches out to receive o filmed massage os o stage- 
hand holds up o clack boord ond director Joseph Mankiewicz supervises ot 
left. It is not yet certain whether or not this scene will be used in the U.S. version 
of the film, or be restricted to foreign release. With $37,000,000 ot stoke, Fox 
may break cinematic precedent and run the nude scene in the domestic version. 


auspicious, even inevitable, choice. Soon after she had made it into Hollywood's 
big kleigs in National Velvet, Liz began garnering praise for her near-flawless 
feature attractions and her voluptuous body; with maturity and experience her 
thesping expertise developed apace, and in such films as Cat on a Hot Tin Roof 
and Butterfield 8 (for which she won an Oscar) she gained wide respect. It 
seemed logical that the lovely and talented Miss Taylor should want to essay 
a role traditionally coveted by other gifted actresses (some past Cleos of stage 
and screen: Helen Hayes in Shaw's Caesar and Cleopatra, Vivian Leigh in 
the film version, ‘Tallulah Bankhead in Shakespeare's Antony and Cleopatra, 
Claudette Colbert in DeMille’s Cleopatra). Too, there seemed an uncanny parallel 
between the historical Cleo and the new pretender on her throne: Both were 
renowned as young beauties, both flopped in their first two marriages (Cleo 
couldn't make a go of it with either of her two kid brothers; Liz shucked 
Nicky Hilton, then Michael Wilding), both were then snowed by an older Cacsar- 
type who was fated to die violently (Cleo had the real McCoy, Liz the imperial 
impresario, Mike Todd), both then snared new regents and were accused of 
swiping them from sweet, defenseless wives (Cleo got Antony from Octavia, Liz 
got Eddie Fisher from Debbie Reynolds). Despite the happy omen of such carbon 
copy typecasting, Cleopatra came a cropper soon after filming began in London 
in 1960; Liz first contracted meningitis, then a near-fatal case of double pneu- 
monia, and the entire production had to be halted while she recuperated. This 
ill-starred beginning drained Fox coffers of $5,000,000, and resulted in the 
ash-canning of hundreds of thousands of feet of film. With Liz again back in 
shape in the fall of 1961, cameras once more began to roll — this time in sunny 
Jtaly, where Liz and husband Eddie were housed in a 14-room villa off the Appian 
Way. Cleopatra then lurched forward on its costly hegira (decorative touches 
like the reconstructions of the Roman Forum and Cleopatra's Alexandrine palace 
near Anzio added to the general fecforall) only to run into a new kind of 
trouble when Welsh actor Richard Burton was welcomed to the pyramid club to 


nu. 


^c 


[ CLE! PATRA 


КАМАК WIC Ze 703) 
“за. ҮЮХ-РЕс. 15. Er 


In the much discussed but hitherto unseen nude scene from Cleopatra, Elizabeth Taylor reclines regally beneath the ministering 


play Mark Antony. Eddie, Liz and Richard started their triangle in friendly enough fashion, even making the night-club scene in 
Rome on New Year's Eve as a threesome. Soon, however, it was rumored that Richard and Liz were pursuing their two-on-the- 
Nile duet off-camera, a suspicion strikingly confirmed by Liz and Richard during late-hour dancing and nuzzling in the Eternal 
City's publican pubs. (Pestered by the flash cameras of the predatory paperazzi, the two turned elsewhere for privacy, 
found that where there's a villa, there's a way.) This revelation set off a Roman scandal whose repercussions were gleefully 
reported by the world's press. The comedy of eros unfolded with memorable confusion: Eddie flew to Manhattan for a 
84 checkup in a private psychiatric hospital, where he called reports of a marital crack-up “ridiculous and absolutely false’ 


hands of a masseuse and in one memorable moment of Egyptian mummery proves that she is indeed o dish fit for the gods. 


Liz returned from a two-day expedition with Richard at a Tyrthenian fishing village sporting an unexplained black eye; 
blonde Mrs. Sybil Burton swept into Rome with her four-year-old daughter to squelch rumors of a Sybil war. Adding to the 
brouhaha of mixed-up ids was the arresting rumor that the Tiber Tigress was burning bright for yet a third party, 
Cleopatra's writer-director Joseph Mankiewicz. While all of this made entertaining reading, it also aroused an outraged 
chorus of protest from affronted moralists: Rome's I1 Tempo intemperately branded Liz a destroyer of families and suggested 
that she be evicted from Italy as an “undesirable,” an appellation dearly open to debate. Liz was not given the boot from 
the boot, however, and eventually the most expensive flick of the ages became histrionic history. (As we go to press, 


85 


the great Burton-Burton-who'sgot-the-Burton game has yet to reach 
final resolution, though rumors of a Liz-Eddie reconciliation are heard 
again in the land.) The sight of Liz fiddling while Eddie burned 
aused fresh waves of panic to sweep through Fox's mogul hordes: 
"Would the finished film, like Cleo, pass on to greater rewards, or would 
a shocked and indignant public express its disapprobation by a box- 
office boycott Some observers, like Producer Walter Wanger, feel chat 
the picture has gained five dollars in publicity for every dollar it has 
cost. Others remember a bit of filmflammery called Stromboli and 
point out that leading lady Ingrid Bergman's much publicized, 
production-stalling bearing of an illegitimate child did not prevent 
the movie from being а horrendous financial dud. Whatever the 
outcome, one sure financial winner is richly rewarded Liz: Her 
original salary of a cool million was augmented by a hefty spell of 
overtime at $50,000 a week, and further nest-feathering is in the offing 
when she starts collecting her 10 percent of the gross. As Fox presi- 
dent Darryl F. Zanuck and company creditors nervously await the 
publics COD verdict, pLavnoy herewith pauses to contemplate the 
beautiful focus of the global furor: Queen Elizabeth, filmdom's 
unrivaled goddess of love. 


These three exclusive phorographs of 
Elizabeth Toylor were shot for PLAYBOY 
by actor Roddy McDowell, a co-star 
with Liz in Cleopatra and a friend of 
hers since her film debut in Notional 
Velvet. Reportedly omong her favorite 
pictures of herself, these memorably 
sensitive and seductive portraits show 
Hollywood's premier love goddess 
clad in а gossamer-thin nightgown 
prior to the filming of the bedroom 
scene in Cleopatro, and contain cause 
enough for the decline and fall of the 
Romon Empire along with Antony. Per- 
fectly cost in the role of the Egyptian 
sorceress, liz skillfully evokes the 
infinite variety that spiced the life of 
Coesar and Antony, succeeds in con- 
firming W. Shakespeare's rhapsodic 
appraisal of the original Cleo: “Other 
women cloy the appetites they feed, 
but she makes hungry where most she 
satisfies.” Cleopatro was penned by 
director Mankiewicz, who based his 
story on Plutarch's biographical tomes. 
Like most mole writers, Plutarch waxed 
eloquent on the mystery of Cleo; 
among his reflections on the barging 
beauty is this pleasant notation: 
“Were Antony serious or disposed to 
mirth, she had ot any moment some 
new delight to meet his wishes; ot 
every turn she was upon him, and let 
him escape her neither by doy nor by 
night" Mankiewicz himself offers this 
thoughtful comment on the immortal 
Queen of the Nile: "Cleopatra was 
not o ‘Vamp.’ She was o highly com- 
plicated, intelligent woman who was 
carried to great heights in her am- 
bition. Elizabeth Taylor,” he odds, 
“thas an understanding of this.” 


PLAYBOY 


88 


GOLDEN FROG (continued pom page 56) 


knows how many furlongs stood on end 
separated us, that you were among the 
ideal human persons for my purposes, 
or purpose, because really I have only 
one. You are an artist, a perceiving, in- 
telligent individual; you are marooned 
and helpless, locked up, tied, tossed, 
confined, wrapped and fastened, lonely 
and willing to listen. What more could 
a salesman want? And that's what I am, 
a salesman, a salesman on what I like 
to think is the highest level: a doctrinal 
salesman. 1 sell doctrine. I am the only 
man in the world who can give you, 
fully and cogently, the doctrine of The 
Golden Frog. Oh, there are others—all 
of them taught by me, mark you—who 
can explain it around the edges, give 
you the soup and salad of it, so to 
speak, and maybe the cheese and coffee, 
but for the heart of the matter, the 
entree, the boeuf Massoni, 1 have to do 
that myself. And it's not often that I 
have the chance. It won't do for just 
anyone, I have to select, and select, and 
select again, and even then I'm often 
wrong. I was perfectly prepared, you 
know, when I climbed in that window, 
to find that I'd been wrong again, and 
that I'd have to sit here, mute and 
helpless, and let you rant and rave over 
me about bells, bore me until my skull 
bones melted and ran hot out of my 
ears, and I was ready to pay the price, 
and God knows I loathe hearing other 
people talk. But I was not wrong, I was 
right, and I shall tell you everything. 

“ “The Golden Frog is, naturally, not 
a frog at all, but a tree toad, the com- 
mon Ayla versicolor-ersicolor. Being 
called a frog, if he were actually a frog 
he would be of no use. He is hyla versi- 
color-versicolor, and if you don't know 
what he looks like, he looks like this." 

“Rolt opened his hand and held it 
out and there in his palm was a tiny 
golden toad, as big as a quarter, 
perhaps, smooth and old-looking. 

"Тһе Golden Frog,’ he said, ‘is a 
god, naturally you'll have guessed that. 
Where he stands in the pantechnicon of 
gods 1 know, of course, but I cannot 
tell you—not yet, not yet. Mind you, 
I don't say he is God. Mind you, I 
don’t say he is not. He is The Golden 
Frog. You are bright, you are clever, 
you are no fool, the insane chatter of 
your bell clappers hasn't beaten the wits 
ош of you, по, and not even the light- 
ning bolts rattling on your rooftree 
here one to the minute—do you know 
1 saw your blasted tower hit 10 times 
tonight if it was hit once? But you're 
bright, and you know that hyla versi- 
color-versicolor is the tree toad, if only 
because I've told you so, and you know 
that the tree toad is a limpctthing and 
climbs verticals and hangs to walls and 
likes high places, and you'll have con- 


nected that, won't you, with me coming 
up the tower? And have you connected 
it with you being up the tower, though 
you came up, Lord knows, in a clot's 
fashion, jiggling on the end of a wire 
in an clevator, bouncing on a string 
like a yoyo. Still, you are here, here 
you are, up. 

‘Nothing. He does nothing, The 
Golden Frog, and that’s what he's for. 
Its for us to do, don't you see? The 
Golden Frog will not make my winter 
тус grow 4700 feet higher than yours, 
no, nor a Persian inch higher; he docsn’t 
know if a sparrow falls, and he doesn’t 
care, Since he will not catch you, fall- 
ing, he won't let you go, either, and 
that's a simple concept which I'm sure 
you grasp. Let me tell you what hap- 
pened to me one time, I was rock-climb- 
ing, in a manner of speaking, I was 
going up the south face of the Gerrs- 
garten, and alone. This was before I 
lived in The Frog, and I was a devotee 
of the cult of Barquah, indeed for a 
long time I thought that everyone 
born during October of 1932 was a 
Barquahniste. As you know, either 
now or because I'm telling you, Barquah 
had 15,000 male children, cach of whom 
was a nark, or holy man, fully capable 
of those inexplicable actions we are 
pleased to call miracles. 

"'Now, my natal nark was Tu'bip 
Alem, and it was upon Tu'bip Alem 
that 1 always called when I needed help, 
which was often enough, lord knows. 
And when that bloody piton pulled— 
1 saw it pulling, the crack seemed to 
open, widen, and something or some- 
body inside the mountain pushed it 
out-and I fell, I yelled, you сап 
imagine, for Tu'bip Alem to help me. 
And I had time to yell, That's a 5000- 
meter drop, off the crest of the south 
face at Gerrsgarten. Oh, I yelled. And 
а great brown hand came down out of 
the clouds and caught me and held me. 
And a tremendous, booming voice, a 
voice that was the topmost end, the 
double-distilled distillate of every boom- 
ing baritone voice since time first 
whispered, this great voice boomed out 
and said, in Gjindi, "Do you call Tu'bip 
Alem or Tu bip Alam?" Now, as I have 
said, Tu'bip Alem was my natal nark, 
while Tu'bip Alam was just another of 
the 15,000 to me, although no doubt 

i t to those whose natal 
nark he was, and to shatusa herders, 
whose patron he was, but still nothing 
to me. But which had caught me? How 
could 1 tell in whose big brown hand I 
lay? I tried to think for a split second, 
and the hand tightened and began to 
crush me. So 1 made the decision on 
an cthical basis: honesty is the best 
policy. "I called," I said, "on Tu’bip 
Alem." The great brown hand opened, 


and slowly, slowly turned and dropped 
me. It was the hand of Tu'bip Alam, 
and I was no shatusa herder. 

“I interrupted him," Vanyon said. 
"I told him I had heard that story 
before, years before. It’s an old gag, 
I told him. Usually you hear it told 
about St. Francis and St. Francis of 


. “I don't doubt it, he 
said. ‘But you only heard it. lt hap- 
pened to mer " 

"Did you believe him?" Simmons 
said. 

"I don't know," Vanyon said. "And 
it doesn't matter, because, don't you 
see, you must see, the important thing 
was not whether what he was saying was 
true or not, the important thing was 
that he was saying it. It wasnt im- 
portant that the gold frog might be a 
god; it was important that he obviously 
did believe that it was a god. To me 
Dennis Rolt was a wonder; he was a 
free spirit; he was the voice of the 
world as we would like to think the 
world should be, a paradise of aston- 
ishment and beauty. Just to hear him 
made me feel that everything in my own 
life, or almost everything, was dull and 
hopeles. And that in spite of the fact 
that I thought, as І told you before, 
that Һе might be crazy, completely mad 
No one could hear a man talk as he 
talked without wondering if he were 
sane, but still...” 

“You say he made you feel that your 
life was dull,” Simmons said. “You were 
jealous of him?” 

“Oh, yes, I suppose I was," Vanyon 
said, “although that’s a very crude way 
of putting it.” 

“That why you killed him?" the 
sergeant said softly. "Because you were 
jealous of him?” 

Vanyon turned. “When I first saw 
you, sergeant,” he said, “I decided you 
were a stupid man. I was wrong. You 
aren't just stupid. You're a monument 
to stupidity. In you, stupidity burrows 
to a brand-new low. You ате...” 

"You better watch your 
buddy,” Simmons said. 

The sergeant's face was burning red 
and his right hand twitched rhyth- 
mically and convulsively on his thigh. 

"He'd better watch his," Vanyon said. 

“Turn it off,” Simmons said. “Get on 
with your story What was the 
thing he said, Tierney, before this fuss 

Patrolwoman Tierney lifted а few 
accordion folds of paper from her 
machine's little trough. 

“ ‘Just to hear him made me feel that 
everything in my own life, or almost 
everything, was dull and hopeless.' " she 
read. 

"He went on with the story," Vanyon 
said. "My cu about St. Fra 
sisi didn't stop him. 
(continued on page 98) 


mouth, 


RETROACTIVE NEW YEAR’S RESOLUTIONS 


playboy presents some famous folk some 
firm resolves they might have made last january 


DID YOU EVER THINK, while mulling resolutions for the coming year, how 
the tide of history might have changed if, just a year ago, some famous 
folk had made a few unusual New Year's resolutions and stuck by them? 
Just for the fun of it, and with the help of 20/20 hindsight, we've done it 
for them, Here’s our annual list of resolutions some famous people might 
have made a year ago—but didn’t. 


Liz Taylor: | will refuse to play Cleopatra — the public just wouldn't believe 
me in the role of a fickle woman. 


. Teddy Kennedy: I will ask not what my brother can do for me but what I can „ f 
do for my brother. ` 


Roger Blough: After the next stec-labor bargaining session, I must remind my 
good friends, Jack and Bobby, to catch my guest shot on The Price Is Right. 


Barry Goldwater: In 1862 I am going to .. . 


Hugh M. Hefner: I will construct a nationwide network of Show Business Illustrated 
key dubs to supplement the magazine when it clicks. 


Sue Lyon: I will try to be more adult in everything I do and stop acting like a child. 


Lenny Bruce: I will accept the D.A.R.'s invitation to address their convention 
on the subject of Love, Home, Flag, Duty, and other four-letter words. 


George Lincoln Rockwell: When my friend Sir Oswald Mosley visits America, 
I will help him feel at home by introducing him to the fellows at the synagogue. 


Billie Sol Estes: 1 will sell my collection of famous signatures and use the money 
to establish the Billie Sol Estes Good Citizenship Award so posterity will remember 
who I was. 


Marlon Brando: I'm going to prove once and for all that you don't need millions 
of dollars to make a movic. 


Governor Ross Barnett: I will demand that the Federal Government use force to 
enroll my son at Tuskegee. 


James H. Meredith: I'm tired of the burly-burly of the Air Force; I will devote 
myself to the quiet seclusion of academic life. 


Edwin A. Walker: 1 will continue to comport mysclf like a good citizen; after all, 
anyone who fights the Federal Government ought to have bis bead examined. 


Dwight D. Eisenhower: Once the new year begins, or gets underway — shortly after 
the beginning of January or thereabouts, that is— I'd like to buy, or at least try 
on, or perhaps just window-shop for, a two-button suit. 


Vince Edwards: I will speak to our wardrobe mistress about fixing the top button 
on my tunic—nothing looks worse than a sloppy doctor. 


Frank Sinatra: Since the Democrats haven't belped me solve my personal problems, 
I'm going to ask my good friend Nelson Rockefeller for some good tips on 
maintaining a happy marriage. 


Sophia Loren and Carlo Ponti: We will do a Mr. and Mrs. TV sbow in Rome, 
sponsored by the Italian Government. 


Jayne Mansfield: I'm sick of all this tasteless publicity. Mickey and 1 will take off 
for a quiet holiday in the Bahamas, far from the prying eyes of the press. A relaxing 
time in а small boat might be fun. 


Fidel Castro: I’m going to ban baseball in Cuba because the Yankees always win. 
But I'll need something to replace it... maybe a boat show. 


Mickey Hargitay: I resolve to try and get Jayne a film in Italy this year. If we have 
a really substantial marriage, based on mutual respect and understanding, a 
husband is foolish to worry about those good-looking Italian men 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY PETER GOWLAND 


yy 
\ 


^ 


ў 


Our perky philatelist shops at her favorite stamping ground, celebrates new acquisitions with a glass of milk. 


THAT DUSTY CLICHE about good things coming in small 
packages was given pleasant new life for us on a 
recent trek to California when we were introduced to 
a petite brunette named Judi Monterey, an all-girl girl 
who stands just 571” in her Capezios and whose weight 


rounds off at 100 pounds. Pert Judi so impressed 
us with her Playmate potential that we asked her on 
the spot if she would help us start the new year in 


style as our Miss January. Judi’s response, like her, 
minuscule miss monterey was short and sweet: She said she'd be delighted. A 


У fun-loving peach who turns 19 this month, Judi has 
starts our new year aright been ripening in the California sun all her life — born 


in Bell, she was raised in nearby Santa Barbara where she now lives, with roommate, in a newly constructed 
apartment building. Out on her own in the warm, affable world after graduating from Santa Barbara 
High, young Miss Monterey first tried working as a governess, lasted one unrewarding week (“I detest 
domesticity and kids,” she says firmly, then adds, “at least for the time being”); she then found a more 
logical métier modeling for the local Brooks Institute of Photography. A dedicated slugabed, she usually 
chooses to snooze till noon in her white-walled bedroom, which is modernistically decorated with black 
ceramic plaques, black wrought-iron stands and one large red stuffed hound dog. Afternoons she customar- 
ily carries out modeling assignments, then strolls through Santa Barbara on long, lazy window-shopping 
sprees, or perhaps has an obliging male take her on a top-down sight-se through the countryside. 
By nightfall, Miss January's compact motor has been fully energized, and she is ready to be whisked away 
to dinner (filet mignon, heavy on the mushrooms), thence to a movie (preferably with Paul Newman or 
Frank Sinatra on the marquee) or the dog track (“The ones with the saddest eyes always win”), and, if 
she сап wangle it, a late-in-the-date scoop of banana ice cream, On dateless nights she scrunches up in a 
big leather chair to watch Casey or Dillon on TV, or catches up on her reading (she’s currently perusing 
two popular tomes: The Carpetbaggers and The Fountainhead), or earnestly putters with her two-year-old 
stamp collection while Sinatra or Buddy Greco croons softly from her phonograph, Judi's appealing aura 
of freshness and glowing health is abetted considerably by her pet lu : Every day she indulges herself 
with long and fragrant bubble baths. "Though her s ng frame (34-22-33) is admirably 
mature, Judi’s youthful visage causes many to underestimate her age, a tendency she claims docs not 
bother her a whit. Her chief gripe with mankind at the moment is those conceited members of the vigorous 
sex who assume they are irresistible. Judi is sold on the Golden State, proves her stay-put devotion by 
pointing out that she has never traveled anywhere by plane, train or boat. “Why travel,” she asks, “when 
everything is right here?", a rhetorical query of unassailable logic. She admits to а warm regard for the 
big-band sound of Count Basie, likes old James Dean Hicks, dancing, lobster, skating, and the kind of 
a man who reads pLaynoy. We are confident the attraction is mutual. 


"ing s 


table-for-fra: 


= 
= 
=n. 


looking every bit the collector's item herself, January's Judi curls up with a good 
book: her lovingly cared-for volume of stomps. A friend presented her with the por- 
tially filled album two yeors ago and Judi took to the relaxing hobby posthoste. 


Miss Monterey and a kerchiefed comrade swap girl- 


tolk above an Austin Healey at o 
Pacific Palisades sports-car rally. Our compact model cheerfully admits to knowing 
next to nothing about cars, but is keenly interested in what mokes them go: men. 


PLAY BOY’S PARTY JOKES 


The convertible glided silently to a stop on a 
lonely country road. 
“Out of gas," he said, with a sly smile. 
"Yes, I thought you might be,” said his date, 
as she opened her purse and pulled out a 
small hip flask. 
“Say, you are a swinger,” he said. “What do 
you have in there — Scotch or bourbon?” 
“Gasoline,” she replied. 


We know a nearsighted girl who can't tell 
her friends until they're right on top of her. 


My wife is always asking for money,” com- 
plained a friend of ours. “Last week she 
wanted $200. The day before yesterday she 
asked me for $125. This morning she wanted 
$150." 

“That's crazy," we said. “What does she do 
with it all?” 

“I don't know," said our friend, "I never 
give her any." 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines adoles- 
cence as the age between puberty and adultery. 


Noah Webster's wife, returning from a long 
trip, discovered the lexicographer flagrante 
delicto with a pretty chambermaid. 

"Mr. Websterl" she gasped, "I am sur- 
prised!" 

“No, my dear,” said Webster with a re- 
proving smile, "You are shocked; I am sur- 
prised.” 


Hoping to avoid the embarrassing attentions 
that most hotels bestow on newlyweds, the 
honcymooners carefully removed the rice from 
their took the JusT MARRIED sign off their 
car, and even scuffed their luggage to give it 
that traveled look. Then, without betraying a 
trace of their eagerness, they ambled casually 
into Miami Beach's Fontainebleau Hotel and 
up to the front desk, where the groom said in 
a loud, booming voice, "We'd like a double 
bed with a room.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines incest as 
sibling revelry or a sport the whole family can 
enjoy. 


А young politician, eager to gather votes, ac- 
cepted the invitation of a local woman's club 
to speak on the subject of sex. However, fear- 
ing that his wife wouldn't understand, he told 
her that he planned to lecture on sailing. 

А week after the speech, his wife ran into 
one of the ladies of the club who mentioned 


ing his talk had been. 

"I just can't understand it,” said the wife, 
“he knows so little about it.” 

“Come now, darling, don't be coy. His talk 
showed intimate acquaintance with the sub- 
ject,” said the matron. 

“But he's only tried it twice,” protested the 
wife. “The first time he lost his hat and the 
second he became seasick.” 


Many a girl succeeds in keeping the wolf from 
her door these days by inviting him in. 


In her own eyes, Peggy was the most popular 
girl in the world. “You know,” she said, with 
characteristic modesty, “a lot of men are going 
to be miserable when I marry. 

“Really?” said her date, stifling a yawn. 
“How many are you going to marry?” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines prostitute 
as a member of the fare sex. 


Rustic Ron stared at the bellhop in disbelief. 
“Twenty-five dollars for а girl? That's ridic- 
ulous! Why, in Tennessee I can get a girl to 
clean my house, wash my clothes, cook my 
meals and sleep with me all night for four 
pork chops a day.” 

“Then what,” said the bellhop, “are you 
doing in Chicago?” 

“Buying pork chops.” 


You are charged,” said the judge, “with the 
serious offense of assault and battery upon 
your husband, How do you plead?” 

“Innocent,” said the shapely defendant. “1 
hit him because he called me a vile name.” 

“And just what did he call you?" asked the 
jurist. 

"It's really too terrible to repeat—he .. . 
he called me a ‘two-bit whore’! 

“That is bad,” said the judge. “What did 
you hit him with?" 

“A bag of quarters, your honor." 


Heard any good ones lately? Send your favor- 
ites to Party Jokes Editor, PtAvnov, 232 Е. 
Ohio St., Chicago 11, Ill., and earn $25 for 
each joke used. In case of duplicates, payment 
goes to first received. Jokes cannot be returned. 


“Yes, Virginia, there is a Santa Claus.” 


97 


PLAYBOY 


GOLDEN FROG (continues pom page вв) 


“There I was,’ he said, ‘dropping 
like a stone down the face of the 
Gerrsgarten, spurned by the great brown 
hand of Tu'bip Alam. It didn't matter. 
I was saved by another means, which is 
not important. In point of fact, to 
quiet any absurd skepticism that might 
rise in you, or, rather, any additional 
and absurd skepticism that might rise 
in you, I will say that I was saved 
bloody chance: I fell into a snowfield, 
20 ruddy inches of fresh powder hanging 
on the steepest slope in the Alpes 
Maritimes, rolled about a kilometer 
and came out, nine-tenths suffocated but 
alive and with the seat in my pants, 
just above the village of Voiten, and 
within sight of the bar run by the 
Dutchman Glauvert, and that was 
where I told the story for the first time, 
and that was where I left Barquah, for 
good. Or for bad, who'm I to say?” 

“I interrupted him," Vanyon said. 
"I said, "What do you do now, when 
you're not running up rock faces or 
bell towers?" 

“I roam about,’ he said. ‘I roam 
about, and carn vast sums of money in 
ways that would dazzle you, and I 
make love to all the girls who will have 
me, and some that won't, too, if I think 
they have the understanding to be truly 
grateful afterward and when people 
will listen I tell them of The Frog. 
J have carried the doctrine of The Frog 
to odd places: Parlakimedi, which you 
know, if only because I'm telling you 
so, is in Madras, and Pin Hook, which 
I suppose everyone knows is in Indiana 
I tell them of "The Frog, the All-Know- 
ing and AllSeeing and Do-Nothing 
Frog who is the ultimate solution of 
our mille-faceted problems. What is 
the docuine of The Frog, you say, 
and I say, the doctrine of The Frog is, 
Send not for any other man to do, lest 
you be done, and ever since For Whom 
the Bell Tolls was published a pretty 
pun has been possible on that sentence, 
and even before that time it was pos- 
sible, for a man learned in the literature 
of the English language, to make and 
enjoy this pun on done. As Andrew 
Salter so often says in private conversa- 
tion, "Why aren't you laughing, you 
aren't laughing enough!" but to be 
serious, you will concede that al 
though "Ihe Frog speaks only once, he 
speaks with sheer eloquence and with 
the voice of wislom beyond plumbing, 
and if you are reminded of Churchill 
bare-breasted on the beaches in 1939 
congratulations to you but you have 
misread me. I say again, The Frog is 
wise beyond wisdom, for there is no 
answer beyond his answer, which is, 
Do, lest you be Done. Or, reduced, 
Do. This is all wisdom, boiled down, 
in the great black kettle of the other 


sky, the one beneath us, to one drop, 
one syllable, Do, and hyla versicolor- 
versicolor, when he cries, "Wh'deel 
Wh'dec!" cries "Do!" in all the lan- 
guages, or nearly all, of the whole 
Melanee group, as I'm sure you know, 
if for no other reason than that I'm 
telling you so. 

“Join us then, in The Frog. Carry 
the voice of The Frog to a supine, 
limp, flaccid, custardy world 
ЕШ, Mercede ina jam pot, of people 
being done, not doing. Say you'll come, 
and when you do then I'll tell you 
what it is to have life in The Golden 
Frog, where we live in The Frog, and 
Ili tell you a good many other things 
that will amaze and startle you and 
rouse you until your brain bubbles like 
so much porridge, and your blood will 
run till you hear it screaming down 
your arteries and up your veins, and if 
you stick a pin in your arm the stuff will 
bore a hole through the ceiling and 
just that will get you off, we call it 
Reverse Medicine and when you live 
in The Frog you need no other, and 
what is тоге..." 

“Ie was about there," Vanyon said, 
"that he gave the door another jerk, 
in passing as it were, and it opened. 
We were both amazed, but there it was, 
swinging open. 

“AN right” Rolt said. "What's 
good for one's good for the other, and 
it's even money the one below is cured 
as well.’ We didn't know about that, 
but certainly the cabin door was free. 
I still think, and he did too, that the 
lightning strike had something to do 
with their sticking. 

“At any rate, I said to Rolt, ‘We'll go 
down and look and if it's open I'll buy 
the drinks.” But he said, “The bit about 
the drinks is all right, but ГЇЇ go the 
way I came.’ And he went over to the 
window and moved out of it backward. 
He hung there for a second, his elbows 
hooked on the sill, just as he had when 
he came in, and then he levered him- 
self out and down. I remembered what 
he'd said about the ladders being taken 
in going down, and I wanted to talk him 
into coming down with me on the 
stairs, and 1 suppose he knew it because 
he said, ‘Stairs are for clots, but don't 
worry, The Frog will soon unclot you." 
He moved differently going down, much 
more slowly, and not at all rhythmically. 
I watched, looking down at him. I 
really don't believe he had made 10 feet, 
and certainly it wasn't 15, before he 
fell. I saw it all very clearly. His right 
foot came loose and the sudden weight 
transfer jerked his right arm loose; I 
heard the fingernails of his left hand 
scrabble and grate on the granite and 
then he went, out backward, looking up, 
all of a piece, exactly like a man going 


off a high board, and instantly therc 
was a great shout, "Tu'bip Alem, save 
mel' and because he was now falling 
so fast, the sound was altered by the 
Doppler effect, you know, as when one 
hears the tone of a crossing-bell change 
when one's riding in a train, and the 
‘save mel” was stretched out, dropping, 
‘say-ay-ayve-meceel’ and then he hit.” 

Miss Tierney's machine clicked briefly 
as she caught up. The coffee bubbled. 

“I will say one thing,” Lieutenant 
Simmons said. “In 22 years on the 
Force, and 10 in Homicide, that is the 
damnedest story 1 ever sat down to listen 
to. The damnedest.” 

“Look, Mr. Vanyon,” the sergeant 
said. “Now look. Here is fellow 
falling 300 feet and he knows he’s going 
to be dead in two seconds and hc yells 
out that Tubepalum or whatever. Why? 
If he's going to yell anything, for some 
heathen saint to save him, and he's just 
through telling you he doesn't bclicv 
in that опе .. . my point is, why didn't 
he yell for the tree toad, the gold frog?" 

"He was making a joke," Vanyon 
said. 

"A joke? A joke?” Simmons said. 
“The man's two seconds from a messy 
end, and he's making a joke? In mid- 
ай 

“I think so," Vanyon said. “I think 
he was saying to me, ‘You know that 
when a man's dying he often reverts to 
the belief he was brought up in. But 
I'm doing this consciously, and satiri- 
cally, and laughing, to show you that 
for me it's still The Frog! 

Simmons looked at the sergeant, who 
was looking at him. The licutenant’s 
head inclined toward the door and they 
rose as onc and left without a word. 

Patrolwoman Tierneys hands were 
folded in her pretty lap. Since she'd 
stopped working her machine, she had 
been staring at Vanyon with interest. 
Where this interest rose, what spurred it, 
how deeply it ran, he could not know. 

“I have an idea they didn't believe 
me," he said. He didn't see great profit 
in offering her this opening, but the 
silence and her straightline regard had 
become oppressive. 

"Not a word," she said. "Nor did I.” 

You are a dumb bitch, Vanyon said to 
himself. "It was as near the absolute 
truth as I could make it," he said. 

"Nobody in the room believed it but 
you, then," she said. She laughed. "I 
think the sergeant and thc licutcnant 
are only wondering how to go about 
asking you some questions about i 

She was right. 

"Oh, there's no doubt about that at 
all" Simmons was saying. "He threw 
the fella out the window on his head 
and that's for sure. The question is why 
he did it and how we can get it out of 
him. You asked him why we couldn't 

(concluded on page 106) 


gijts | 


LAST-MINUTE CHRISTMAS CACHE 


(how to play your appointed role in the late late yuletide show) 


$79.95 Portable AM-FM ra- 
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ve just decided to disinherit everybody for Christmas!” 


KONER 


REGINALD ROSE eloquent writer of wrongs 


THE PREVAILING MOOD of The Defenders, an admirably 
articulate Saturday-evening hour of TV courtroom 
drama created by adroit Reginald Rose, is one of 
illuminating reflection on the causes and effects of social 
justice. In his Januslike role as script editor and oft- 
time writer of the program, Rose, a man of rare gifts 
and discernment, has stressed a single theme: that the 
law often lags behind changing social needs and is 
woefully inconsistent with the requirements of morality. 
His favorite situation is one in which the individual is 
thwarted by the outmoded prescriptions of established 
authority; and he pursues it doggedly on The Defend- 
ers, where he deals with such topics as capital punish- 
ment, mercy killings and abortion. By uncompromisingly 
eschewing the shopworn plotlines, cardboard characters, 
glib dialog and souped-up suspense that customarily 
festoon so many courtroom mellers, the show already 
has earned four Emmys and, despite all canons to 
the contrary, has gained and retained an audience of 
21,000,000 viewers. For Rose, this success has come after 
30 years of fruidess trysting with his typewriter, Born 
in Harlem (whose heterogencous society was the seed- 
bed of his social consciousness), he began to write at 
10, composed some 100 unpublished short stories and 
three unfinished novels before selling his first TV script. 
Today, responsible for the most respected dramatic show 
on the air, he finds the cup well worth the running. 
“We have proved,” he says, “that the legend of a con- 
spiracy to keep thoughtprovoking drama off TV is as 
empty as the heads of those who talk so much about it." 


ANTHONY NEWLEY coming up in the world 


PERHAPS THE Most highly touted British performer to 
appear on a U.S. stage since Noel Coward’s arrival in 
The Vortex in 1925 is a 31-year-old multithreat show- 
man named Anthony Newley, versatile star, director, 
co-author, co-lyricist and co-composer of the new Broad- 
way musical, Stop the World, 1 Want to Get Off (see 
Playboy After Hours, this issue). World, a seriocomic 
blend of mime, melody and melodrama detailing the 
womb-to-tomb Odyssey of an Everyman called Little- 
chap, has had Britishers appreciatively rolling in the 
isles for the past year and a half, but has drawn mixed 
notices from Manhattan critics. If the ambitious pas 
tiche lost something in its trans-Atla splanting, 
the show made it crystal-ball clear that the Newley- 
wedded blend of astute showmanship, supple versatility 
and Cockney-eyed humor will be heard from again. 
Plucked from London's Italia Conti Stage School at the 
age of 14 by movie mogul Geoffrey de Barkus, Newley 
cut his acting teeth in a starring role in a now-forgotten 
epic, has since made more than twoscore film appear- 
ances (most memorable: as the Artful Dodger in Oliver 
Twist), conceived and acted in a controversially original 
TV series (The World of Gurney Slade), and as a pop 
singer has had several discs poll-vault into England's 
Top 20. A man given to brooding introspection and 
trenchant self-analysis, Newley is growing restless as a 
stage performer: "It's a love affair — and you can't hold 
a love affair for a year. More than anything else, 1 
want to direct my own films. The real stuff of entertain- 
ment is imagination, and we've got to get back to it 


YULSMAN 


SHERWOOD EGBERT cyclone in south bend 


WHEN HARD-JAWED Sherwood Egbert, onetime construc- 
tion worker and ex-Marine, was picked to revivify 
Studebaker-Packard in February 1961, he found the 
South Bend firm suffering badly from hardening of the 
autories. The introduction of the Lark had been a 
jative, but sales and optimism quickly 
died when the Big Three flooded the compact-car 
field. Egbert, as president, immediately instituted an 
ennui-jarring shake-up; weak executive links were sev- 
ered, the gone-to-seed plant was refurbished, the Lark 
line was restyled in record time, a new Gran Turismo 
Hawk went from drawing board to prototype in 1814 
weeks, and in April 1962, the Raymond Loewy-designed 
Avanti debuted at the Studebaker stockholders’ meet- 
ing. The results produced by the 42-year-old Egbert's 
whirlwind take-over have been therapeutic; with Stude- 
baker's domestic sales for the 1962 model year up almost 
50 percent over 1961, South Bend feels that at last it 
can give Detroit car makers a real fight for the Amer- 
ican auto dollar. Pushing diversification (home appli- 

nces, an airline, chemicals), Egbert also had a few 
more automotive tricks up his sleeve: he introduced 
in the 1968 line the Wagonaire, a revolutionary sli 
top station wagon, and put future Studebaker designs 
up for competition between the Avanti's Loewy and 
Wagonaire’s Brooks Stevens. Egbert, supercharged and 
steelnerved ("1 have no personal emotions when it 
comes to business”), occasionally co-pilots the company 
plane, is determined to get Studebaker off the ground. 
‘Those who know him have no doubts that he can do it. 


105 


PLAYBOY 


106 


GOLDEN FROG (continued from page $8) 


find the gold toad he says Rolt had?” 

“I asked him," the sergeant said. “The 
body was so near clean, you know. The 
$200-odd dollars, and not another thing, 
not a wallet, not a letter, not so much 
as a laundry ticket, and no gold toad, 
either. He said it must have fallen out 
of Rolt's pocket on the way down, and 
it was either lost in the grass or buried 
under him, or somebody picked it up 
before the squad car got there." 

"Doesn't the dumb bastard know that 
the toad being missing ruins his story?" 

“I told him that. I told him if we 
had the toad there'd be a different face 
on the matter. He said if we had the 
toad it would wind up on some alder- 
man's watch charm, but it didn't matter 
because it was lost and nobody had it” 

"He deny he was the first man to the 
body?" 

“Oh, no. He admitted that. He ran 
down the stairs, the door opened all 
nice and proper and he went out.” 

“That door business. That takes 
brass, a lie like thai 

“It does. Well, lieutenant, with all 
respect I got to say that you and I are 
a poor bet to get anywhere arguing with 
this joker. The old way is the best way, 
I always say, and an hour would do it, 
too, with this one. He'd cave in in a 
hurry, this one would.” 

“I believe you. But there’s hell to 
pay if you get caught working over any 
of these eggheads. This is no bum 
from West Ninth Street. You let a 
college professor trip and fall against 
the wall a couple of times and you're 
liable to get hauled up in front of 
Congress. ‘Gestapo’ is what they'll call 
you. You'll get famous on television." 

"'Cossack' I like better than ‘Ge 
Stapo, " the sergeant said, "and I been 
called both. Look, he's got to prove it, 
right? I give you my word, 1 won't put 
а mark on him, and I'll have him dictat- 
ing a statement in 30 minutes flat.” 

“I have to go upstairs and see 
McGuire,” the lieutenant said. “I don’t 
know anything about anything.” 

“That's OK with me,” the sergeant 
said. He walked briskly from the room. 

“Mr. Vanyon,” he said. “will you just 
come with me? Will you come too, 
Tierney?" 

Miss Tierney smiled with what 
seemed to Vanyon to be real warmth. 
“ОГ course," she said. 


Jt was au hour later, or an hour and 
a bit, and by no chance, that Lieutenant 
Simmons saw Patrolwoman Tierney 
coming up the stairs. She was carrying 
the tools of her trade. She was ever so 
little damp. as if someone had blown at 
her head through a Japanese flower- 
wetter, the kind that makes a mist. 

“Well?” Simmons said. 


"Not a word out of him," she said. 
“Tom tried everything he could, and 
J tried a couple of things, and we tried 
a couple together, but it was no go. Of 
course, we were being careful of the 
bastard, but сусп so, he should have 
caved in. He didn't. The man came 
up the wall, he says, and fell off of it” 

"Where's Vanyon now?" Simmons sai 

“Tom's putting his clothes on him,” 
Miss Tierney said. "He's all right. He 
can't walk, he's swollen in a couple of 
places, you know, but by morning he'll 
be OK." 

Simmons saw him in the morning. 

"You know what happened to me?" 
Vanyon said. 

"Nothing happened to you," Sim- 
mons said. "But something will, if you 
open your big yap. Two things will 
happen to you. First, you'll get arrested. 
if you spit on the sidewalk, and you'll 
get arrested if you don't. Second, you'll 
have an accident, and nothing trivial, 
either. So shut up. You killed a man!” 

“You know goddamned well I didn‘ 

“You did. And you look like you're 
getting away with it, for the time being, 
and maybe for longer, although that I 
doubt. But nothing happened to you, 
and you'll do well to remember it. You 
can pick up your hat and get out of here, 
and they'll tell you at the desk where 
you can go and where you can't, pending 
the inquest and so on and so on.” 

Vanyon looked around for Patrol- 
woman Tierney on his way through the 
station house to the street, but he was 
not really sure he wanted to see her 
again, ever. Crouching naked to her 
ingenuity and the sergeant’s iron-hard 
brutality, he had been frightened al- 
most beyond endurance, so that he 
wondered why consciousness did not 
leave him. He had endured what they 
did only because he had no alternative: 
he was not completely craven and so he 
could not or would not put an end to 
the agony by saying he had killed Rolt 
when he had not; there was no other 
door he could open. Not much later on, 
he would be able to convince himself 
that he had maintained his will against 
theirs because he was standing in the 
light that Dennis Rolt had cast, stand- 
ing in the reflected glow of The Frog. 
For now, it was enough to think that 
the red-haired girl and the dough-faced 
sergeant had martyred him, but left him 
living. In fact, he thought, if Rolt was 
the prophet, what might Vanyon be? 

The eight o'dock program of that 
morning was the first he had missed in 
a long time. and he felt badly about it, 
as if the fault were somehow his. He 
was on the street at a little after 11 and. 
he took a taxi to the tower. Two 
groundkeepers were sewing squares of 
turf at the foot of the tower, and 30 or 


40 students were watchi them. 
Nobody recognized Vanyon and he was 
quick with the door. He threw the inner 
bolt, something he had never done 
before, and looked carefull 
He got into the elevator cab 
the top button. He was lifted slowly 
up the damp inner wall, in silence cx- 
cept for the whine of the electric motor 
and its gears high above. He swung 
the playing-cabin door to and fro. It 
did not seem to be free and easy in the 
jamb, as he remembered it, neither did 
it stick. He left it open. Jt was hard 
for him to dimb the short ladder to 
the bell chamber, but he made it. 
When he had opened one set of louvers 
he realized that he was so sore and stiff 
he would not be able to play, and he 
dosed them again as soon as he was 
sure that there was no one hiding in 
the dark places behind the bells. He 
crawled back down the ladder. He sat 
on the bench, where he had been sitting 
the night before, watching Rolt storm 
to and fro, and it was casy for him to 
think that the mad and tantalizing tor- 
rent of the dead man’s words still rang 
in the room. Sometimes, in the bell 
chamber, he would touch the rim of a 
bell with a half dollar, to hear the hum 
of it run on until you couldn't be sure 
if the sound had ended or not, and he 
thought he could hear Rolt’s voice in 
the same way. He sat in the playing 
cabin for a long time. Going down in 
the elevator he looked carefully all 
around, At the door he turned out the 
lights. The windows in the tower were 
narrow, they were archers’ slits really, 
the lowest of them 30 feet from the 
ground. No one could see him. He 
went to the corner of the tower farthest 
from the elevator, where the steam 
pipes came through the floor. He knelt 
there for a moment, then moved to the 
center of the floor, where a shaft of 
light angled down. He opened his hand 
and looked at the little frog he had 
lifted from its hiding place behind the 
duster of pipes It was heavy and 
smooth and golden. He had it now, 
and he would keep it. It lay heavy on 
his hand, so heavy, so solid that it 
seemed a part of him. He remembered, 
he believed, every word Rolt had 
spoken, and it was casy for him to recall 
the two places where Rolt said he had 
been: Pin Hook, Indiana, and Parla- 
kimedi in Madras. “I have carried the 
doctrine of The Frog to odd places . 
He dropped the rounded lump of gold 
into a pocket of his jacket. He un- 
latched the door and went out. The 
groundkeepers had finished their work, 
and the students had gone away. A hot 
sun hung in a windless sky. He turned 
to look at the tower. He knew that he 
would never sce it again, that he would 
never come back to it. 


TO BE COURTEOUS TO WOMEN 


fiction By William Saroyan 
this was paramount among the things he had to do to bridge the gap between the tax bite and his muse 


AS THEY WALKED, they talked. “Do you 
know what I like about our Govern- 
ment? I like its nickname, Uncle Silly.” 

“Can I quote you?” 

“Why по” 

“I mean. it might make trouble for 
you — more trouble, that is — although 
it would make a livelier story, too.” 

“Anything I say you can quote, There 
is no off-the-record with me. Just because 
I owe Uncle Silly a lot of money doesn't 
mean I've got to call him Uncle Sam." 

How much do you owe?” 

^I haven't got the exact figures, but 
I think it's somewhere in the hbor- 
hood of $11.000,000, or 11,000,000 but 
tons, or 11,000,000 something or other.” 

"How do you expect to make the 
money?” 

“I'm on my way to Ya 
and you know who he i 


сеу right now, 
1 presume.” 


“I do. Or at any rate I know who he 
was. He was the white haired boy of the 
movie business until six or seven years 
ago. He was the producer of a lot of 
great movies, and two or three times as 
many stinkers. He's still producing for 
the same lot, working out of Paris. Do 
you think he'll ever make a comeback?” 

“A comeback to what?” 

"Do you think he'll ever make a great 
movie again?” 

“Why do you imagine he might not?” 
he hasn't made one in six or 
and how much time do 


“Two minutes?” 
“How do you mean? Two minutes?” 
"Doesn't a thing like that have to be- 


"5 how I mean. Isn't it a matter of 
always having the makings of greamess 


[a lie if there ever was one, what we 
mean is only a seeming greatness, a kind 
of impression or illusion of relative su- 
periority rather than of actual greatness] 
on hand, in yourself, after which all you 
have got to do is decide to do something, 
and almost anything will do, it will have 
to have this quality of relative superiority 
because you yourself have it all the time, 
and you just don’t need any more time 
than the time it takes to decide to do 
something.” 

"Do you mean, then, that Yancey 
hasn't got this quality, or that he never 
had it, or that he had it now and then 
for a while, and then lost iR” 

“Is this interview about Yancey?" 

“Wall, no, but you said you're on your 
way to an appointment with him, and 
you presumed I know who he is. Well, 
who is he, 


(continued on page 157) 307 


PLAYBOY 


“Well, kid, we're not identical twins anymore!” 


-AMANS WORLD 


a conservative's view By WILLIAM F. BUCKLEY, JR. 


I welcome Mr. Mailer’s interest in the American Right Wing. On behalf of the Right Wing let 
me say that we, in turn, are interested in Mr. Mailer, and look forward to co-existence and cultural 
exchanges with him in the years to come. I hope we can maintain his interest, though I confess to 
certain misgivings. I am not sure we have enough sexual neuroses for him. But if we have any at all, 
no doubt he will find them, and celebrate them if not here tonight, certainly in a forthcoming 
political tract, perhaps in his sequel to the essay in which he gave to a world tormented by an 
` inexact knowledge of the causes of tension between the Negro and the white races in the South, 
the long-awaited answer, namely that all Southern politics reflects the white man’s resentment of 
the superior sexual potency of the Negro male. Mr. Mailer took his thesis—easily the most endear- 
ing thing he has ever done—to Mrs. Eleanor Roosevelt, to ask her benediction upon it. She replied 
that the thesis was “horrible,” thus filling Mr. Mailer with such fierce delight that he has never 
ceased describing her reaction, commenting that he must be responsible for the very first use of 
that overwrought word by that lady in her long, and very talkative, career. {“ОҺ how we 
shall scarify!” the dilettante Englishman reported to his friends a hundred years ago, on 
announcing that he had finally put together the money with which to start a weekly mag- 
azine. How Mr. Mailer loves to scarify!—and- how happy I am that he means to do 

so at my expense. Not only do I not know anyone whose dismay is more fetchingly put 

down, I do not know anyone whose dismay I personally covet more; because it is clear 

from reading the works of Mr. Mailer that only 

demonstrations of human swinishness are 

truly pleasing to him, truly confirm his 

vision of a world gone square. Pleasant 

people, like those of us on the Right Wing, 

drive him mad, and leech his genius. 

Recently he has confessed that it is all he can do to stoke his 

anger nowadays, and he needs that anger sorely to fire his 

artistic furnace. The world, if it truly appreciates Norman 

Mailer, must be a cad; how else will he get to be President? For 

Mr. Mailer, to use his own phrase, has been “running for 

President for 10 years." He means by that he wants the world to 

acknowledge him as the principal writer of our day. Número uno, 

the unchallenged, unchallengeable matador of all time, the big- 

gest bullkiller since Theseus; and so those of you who wish him to 

be President must confirm his darkest thoughts and suspicions 

about you, so that he may give birth to that novel of outrage— 

which, he gloats, will be, “if I can do it, an unpublishable 

work." Those few of us who are neither running for President, 

nor are needed to preserve the hideousness of this world so as 

to fatten Mr. Mailer’s muse, are assigned by him the task of 

cultivating “the passion for socialism,” which Mr. Mailer 

finds “the only meaning I can conceive in the lives of those 

who are not artists." Mr. Mailer is a socialist of sorts, 

but if socialism is not his first passion, that is only be- 

cause, in his capacity as an artist, he is exempt from 

ideological servitude. The rest of the world is divided, 

as I say, in two groups. First the great majority of us, 

who compose that terrible world he wants to write a novel 

about so great—so great that Marx and Freud themselves 

would want to read it, for they would recognize in it, says 

Mr. Mailer, a work that “carries what they had to tell y 

another part of the way." Those others of us with whom he is 


a liberals view By NORMAN MAILER 


Would you care to hear a story Robert Welch likes to tell? f “Тһе minister has preached a 
superb sermon. It has moved his congregation to lead nobler and more righteous lives. Then the 
minister says, “Chat, of course, was the Lord's side. For the next half hour, to be fair, ГЇЇ give 
equal time to the Devil” " $ Well, ladies and gentlemen, upon me has fallen the unhappy 
task of following Mr. Buckley. Mr. Buckley was so convincing in his speech that if I had not been 
forewarned that the Devil cannot know how far he has fallen from Paradise, I would most cer- 
tainly have decided Mr. Buckley was an angel. A dishonest angel, perhaps, but then which noble 
speaker is not? © I did not come here, however, to give Mr. Buckley compliments. I appear, 
presumably, to discuss the real meaning of the Right Wing in America, a phenomenon which 
is not necessarily real in its meaning, for the Right Wing covers a spectrum bf opinion as wide 
as the peculiarities one encounters on the Left. If we of the Left are a family of anarchists and 
Communists, socialists, pacifists, nihilists, beatniks, international spies, terrorists, hipsters and 
Bowery bums, secret agents, dope addicts, sex maniacs and scholarly professors, what indeed is 
onc to make of the Right, which includes the president of a corporation or the Anglican head- 
master of a preparatory school, intellectually attired in the fine ideas of Edmund Burke, down 
the road to the Eisenhower-is-a~-Communist set of arguments, all the way down the 

road to an American Nazi like George Lincoln Rockwell, or to the sort of conserva- 

tives who attack property with bombs in California, On a 

vastly more modest and civilized scale, Mr. 

Buckley may commit a mild mayhem on 

the American sense of reality when he 

says McCarthy inaugurated no reign of 

terror, Perhaps, I say, it was someone 

else, f| But it is easy to mock the Right 

Wing. I would rather put the best face one can on it. I 

think there are any number of interesting adolescents and 

young men and women going to school now who find them- 

selves drawn to the Right. Secretly drawn. Some are drawn 

to conservatism today much as they might have been attracted 

to the Left 30 years ago. They are the ones who are curious for 

freedom, the freedom not only to make moncy but the freedom 

to discover their own nature, to discover good and to discover 

—dare I say it?—evil. At bottom they are ready to go to war 

with a ready-made world which they feel is stifling them. 

T I hope it is evident that I do not see the people in the Right 

Wing as a simple group of fanatics, but rather as a contradictory 

stew of reactionaries and individualists, of fascists and liber- 

tarians, libertarians like John Dos Passos for example. It could 

be said that most Right Wingers don’t really know what they 

want. I would not include Mr. Buckley in this category, but I 

think it can be said the politics of the Right in America reflects 

an emotion more than an insight. { I think of a story told 

me by a Southerner about his aunt. She lived in a small 

town in South Carolina. She was a spinster. She came 

from one of the better families in town, Not surprisingly, 

the house where she lived had been in the family for a 

long time. She loved the trees on the walk which bordered 

each side of the street which ran by her house. They were 

very old trees. T The City Council passed a bill to cut 

down those trees. The street had to be widened. A bypass 

from the highway was being constructed around the old 


BUCKLEY a peace will want to labor for 


socialism, he tells us; we will “want a socialist world 
not because we have the conceit that men would 
thereby be more happy — but because we feel the 
mora] imperative in life itself to raise the human 
condition even if this should ultimately mean no 
more than that man’s suffering has been lifted to a 
higher level, and human history has only progressed 
from melodrama, farce and monstrosity to tragedy 
itself.” 

Not very long after writing that sentence, Mr. 
Mailer and a dozen others, including several other 
Presidential candidates, signed an advertisement in 
papers throughout the country under the sponsorship 
of a group that called itself the Fair Play for Cuba 
Committee. “The witch-hunting press,” the advertise- 
ment said in almost as many words, “is suggesting 
that Castro's great democratic revolution is contami- 
nated by Communism. That is hysterical and fascistic 
nonsense.” One or two signers of that petition — 
Kenneth Tynan, the English critic, was one — were 
subsequently called before a Congressional investi- 
gating committee and asked what they knew about 
the sponsorship of the Fair Play Committee. To 
Mr. Mailer's eternal mortification, he was not called, 
thus feeding what Time magazine has identified as 
Norman Mailer's subpoena envy. Anyway, it tran- 
spired that the organizer of that Committee was a 
paid agent of Fidel Castro, who even then was an 
unpaid agent of the Soviet Union. The insiders no 
doubt found it enormously amusing to be able to 
deploy with such ease some of the most conceited 
artists in the world behind the Communists’ grisly 
little hoax. There is melodrama in a Norman Mailer 
rushing forward to thrust his vital frame between 
the American public and a true understanding of the 
march of events in Cuba; there is even farce in the 
easy victimization of Mr. Skeptic himself by a silent- 
screen ideological con man; and it is always mon- 
strous to argue aggressively the truth of the Big Lie. 
But I think the episode was less any one of these 
things than an act of tragedy, though without dire 
consequence for the players — they are strikingly im- 
penitent, insouciant — but for others. The people of 
Cuba are also writing a book that carries forward 
the ideas of Marx and Freud, a truly unpublishable 
book. Their suffering, for which Mr. Mailer bears 
a part of the moral responsibility, they must endure 
without the means to sublimate; they are not artists, 
who count their travail as a steppingstone to the 
Presidency. 

Consider this. Last spring a middle-aged Cuban 
carpenter, known to persons I know, received notice 
at his three-room cottage on the outskirts of Havana 
at five o'clock one afternoon that at nine the next 
morning his 12-year-old son would be taken from 
him to be schooled in the Soviet Union during the 
next six years. The father, who had never concerned 
himself with politics, asked if his son might not, as 
an only child, be spared. (continued on page 165) 


LER bypass of the business district. The 
reason for the new bypass was to create a new busi- 
ness district: a supermarket, a superpharmacy, a su- 
perservice station, a chromium-plated diner, a new 
cemetery with plastic tombstones, a new armory for 
the Army Reserve, an auto supply store, a farm im- 
plements shop, a store for Venetian blinds, a Jaundro- 
mat and an information booth for tourists who would 
miss the town on the new bypass but could read 
about it in the Chamber of Commerce's literature 
as they drove on to Florida. 

Well, the old lady fought the bypass. To her, it 
was sacrilege that these trees be cut down. She felt 
that if there were any value to some older notions 
of grace and courtesy, courage under duress, and 
gallantry to ladies, of faith in God and the struc- 
ture of His ways, that if there were any value at 
all to chivalry, tradition and manners, the children 
of the new generations could come to find it more 
naturally by walking down an avenue of old homes 
and trees than by reading the National Review in 
front of the picture window under the metal awn- 
ing of the brand-new town library. Secretly the 
old lady had some radical notions. She seemed to 
think that the old street and the trees on this old 
street were the property of everyone in the town, 
because everyone in the town could have the pleasure 
of walking down that street. At her gloomiest she 
even used to think that a new generation of Negroes 
growing up in the town, strong, hostile, too smart, 
and just loaded with Northern ideas, would hate 
the South forever and never forgive the past once 
the past was destroyed. If.they grew up on the edge 
of brand-new bypasses in cement-brick homes with 
asbestos roofs and squatty hothouse bushes in the 
artificial fertilizer of the front yard, why then, how 
could they ever come to understand that not every- 
one in the old South was altogether evil and that 
there had been many whites who learned much from 
the Negro and loved him, that it was Negro slaves 
who had first planted these wees, and that it was 
Negro love of all that grew well which had set the 
trunks of these trees growing in so straight a route 
right into the air. 

So the old lady fought the execution of these old 
trees. She went to see the Mayor, she talked to every- 
one on the City Council, she circulated a petition 
among her neighbors, she proceeded to be so active 
in the defense of these trees that many people in 
town began to think she was just naturally showing 
her age. Finally, her nephew took her aside. It was 
impossible to stop the bypass, he explained to her, 
because there was a man in town who had his heart 
set on it, and no one in town was powerful enough 
to stop this man. Not on a matter so special as 
these trees. 

Who was this powerful and villainous man? Who 
would destroy the beauty of a fine old street? she 
wanted to know. Was it a Communist? No. Was it 
the leader for the (continued on page 165) 


By J. PAUL GETTY 


Tu MILLIONAIRE ШЕШН 


THOSE TRAITS OF MIND THAT CHARACTERIZE 
THE MAN OF WEALTH, ACTUAL OR POTENTIAL 


MANY YEARS AGO, I HIRED A MAN — call him George Miller, it’s close enough — to superintend 
operations on some oil properties I owned outside Los Angeles, California. He was an honest, 
hardworking individual. He knew the oil business. His salary was commensurate with the re- 
sponsibilities of his position, and he seemed entirely satisfied with both his job and the pay he 
received. Yet, whenever I visited the properties and inspected the drilling sites, rigs and pro- 
ducing wells, I invariably noted things I felt were being done in wrong or inefficient ways. 

"There were too many people on the payroll, and there weren't adequate controls over costs. 
Certain types of work were being done too slowly; others were being performed too rapidly and 
hence without proper care. Some equipment items were being overstocked while there were 
shortages of others. 

As for George Miller himself, I felt he was spending too much time doing administrative 
work in the Los Angeles office and not enough out in the field — on the drilling sites and rigs. 
Consequently, he wasn't able to exercise the necessary degree of direct personal supervision over 
the operations. 

AII these things served to keep costs high, to slow production and hold down profits, But I 
liked Miller and was certain that he possessed all the qualifications of a top-notch superintendent. 
After some weeks, I had a man-to-man talk with him. I informed George bluntly that I thought 
there was considerable room for improvement in the manner in which he was handling his job. 

“It's funny, but I need only to spend an hour on one of the sites, and I spot several things 
we could do better or cheaper and increase production and profits," I told him. “Frankly, J just 
can't understand why you don't sce them, too.” 

"But you own the properties," the superintendent declared. "You have a direct personal 
interest in everything that happens on or to them. "That's enough to sharpen any man's eyes to 
ways of saving — and thereby making — more money." 

Truth to tell, Га never thought of it in quite that way before. I mulled over what George 
said for several days and then decided to try an experiment. I had another talk with Miller. 

"Look, George. Suppose I farm the properties out to you," I suggested. "Instead of paying 
you a salary, I'll give you a percentage of the profits. The more efficient our operations, the bigger 
those profits will be — and the more money you'll make.” 

Miller gave the proposition some thought and then accepted the offer enthusiastically. 

The change was immediate — and little short of miraculous. As soon as George realized 
that he, too, had a “direct personal interest" in the properties he really hit his stride. No longer 
merely a salaried employee, the superintendent became keenly concerned with cutting costs, 
boosting production and increasing the profits in which he was to share. He viewed operations on 
the drilling and well sites in an entirely different light, instantly recognizing — and correcting — 
faults which had theretofore eluded him. 

Miller shucked unnecessary personnel from the payroll, pared operating expenses to the 
bone and used his considerable native ingenuity to devise better methods for getting the work 
done. Where he'd previously spent two and sometimes three days each week in the Los Angeles 
office, he now made only brief appearances there once or twice a month (continued on page 160) 


behind the scenes 
of the liston- 
patterson fight 


By GERALD KERSH 


APART FROM priests and law- 
yers, anybody who claims to 
have had heart-to-heart con- 
versation with Sonny Liston 
i her a yentriloquist or 
a liar. He has no inclination 
to talk and if he had he 
couldn't. Hence, practically 
every word he has ever said 
in public has been taken 
down and treasured, quoted 
and requoted. “All Г want 
is a referee who can count 
past eight” has been trans- 
lated into 36 languages. So 
has "In this business you go 
into the ring to beat the 
other fellow.” As for “Caw- 
fee? You go ask Patterson 
for cawfee. I ain't got no 
cawfee. I can't afford no 
caw[ee. You ask Patterson 
for cawfee!” — that swept 
the world. It was one of the 
longest speeches Liston had 
ever made, and there was 
passion in it; some said a 
kind of wild poetry. 

It was Frank Mastro of 
the Chicago Tribune who 
inspired it, out at Aurora 
Downs where Liston's camp 
was. Liston was in form that 
day. Something was goading 
him to the bitter eloquence 
of resentment. A Boston re- 
porter asked him what size 
socks he took. Liston re- 
plied, "Large"; all made 
a careful note of that. “And 
how big is your neck?” 
“Eighteen and a half.” "So 
what size collar do you 
take?” — “Same as my neck.” 
I said, “One consolation: 


the anatomy and mystique of championship boxing 
By BUDD SCHULBERG 


THE CONTEST BETWEEN the heavyweight champion of the world and his 
logical challenger has drawn me to ringside since the days when Joe Louis 
was taking his first giant steps. 1 flew from California to New York in the 
slow prop days to watch Billy Conn move smartly around the impassive 
Bomber, with upset fever mounting until the champion caught up with 
the cocky light heavyweight from Pittsburgh in the 13th round. Prizcfighting 
is a brutal sport; 1 have been involved in a love-hate relationship with it 
since my childhood days when I kept scrapbooks of my boxing idols, Benny 
Leonard, Fidel La Barba, the Negro mammoth George Godfrey, Mushy 
Callahan, whose autographed boxing gloves hung in a place of honor over 
my bed after he defeated the West Coast Battling Nelson, Ace Hudkins, 
destroyer of Ruby Goldstein. 

Prizefighters and prizefighting have been part of my life all the way back 
to a frustrated small-boy evening when my father tried to ease me into the 
Benny Leonard-Ritchie Mitchell lightweight championship fight at the 
old Garden that lived on Madison Square. An outraged uniform insisted 
that prizefights were off limits to children and ordered me home to bed 
posthaste. Over the years I found myself meeting and making friends with 
fighters more easily than with, say, fellow writers or actors. When Rocky 


KERSH We've got to see you fight, but you 
don't have to read what we write.” 

Liston bawled, “Joe! Joe! Talk to this feller!” — 
and a man in a T-shirt came and showed me his biceps. 
His right arm was his visiting card; his name was 
tattooed there, so that when he put the muscle up his 
name, Jos. Polino, sprang into view. “No,” said he, 
“we don’t read what you write.” And since this was 
evidently meant to be funny, all laughed except Frank 
Mastro, who was possessed by a seething indignation. 
It wasn't the cup of coffee, or the lack of it, that got 
him, he said — it was the principle of the thing. And 
he didn't like the general atmosphere. Wherever you 
turned, there were policemen with guns on their 
hips; dark, sideways-looking men. It just wasn’t good 
enough. And it would be a long cool day in hell before 
Mastro forgot the way Jack Nilon ordered him out 
of the ring when Liston was punching the bag a little 
while earlier. "Get out!" — like that. 

I said, "Well, after all, Nilon owns Liston.” 

"I've been in the fight game 30 years," said Frank, 
"] was in it in the days when 
it was illegal. I didn't have no 
Polino to bandage my hands. 
I wore an old pair of kid 
gloves with the fingers cut off. 
I fought as often as three 
times in one night . . .” 

“Гуе got to talk to Nilon,” 
I said. 

But this is easier said than 
done. Although the rest of us 
remained in Chicago, await- 
ing the fight, Nilon had gone 
back to Philadelphia. You 
couldn't get within 40 feet of 
Liston. Dead silent and com- 
pletely still, robed and cowled, 
his eyes rolled up and his 
mouth drawn down, he sat at 
a little table in the empty 
hall. Tiny and frightened, his 
wife sat near him. She, too, 
had nothing whatever to say. 
All approaches to them were 
barred. Nervous with the р 
cares of his office, Polino, hand- Š 
taper, towel-holder, gentleman 
of the scanty wardrobe, waved 
us away, shouting, “Back 
there, back there! Your place 
is back there! Not here, back 
there!” 

A big detective eased his 
holster on his hip and looked 
at us long and hard. 

“Let's get the hell out of 
this,” Mastro said. 

“I want to get hold of Jack 
Nilon.” 

(continued on page 146) 


SCHULBERG Marciano was getting ready to 
defend against Ezzard Charles, I would sit around his 
Grossinger's farmhouse with him swapping stories or 
talking everything from fights to films to religion. 
Rocky could concentrate on his training sessions as 
single-mindedly as Sonny Liston, but he had an engag- 
ing, disarmingly intellectual curiosity. 

Unlike the recent participants in the most farcical 
dethronement in the history of the heavyweight divi- 
sion — Sonny (as in a storm cloud) Liston and Floyd 
(innerthink) Patterson — Rocky seemed to enjoy his 
meetings with the press. Archie Moore wallowed in 
them with uninhibited multisyllabic joy. Pros like 
Ezard Charles and Jersey Joe Walcott accepted them 
as part of their paynight obligations. Upstart Cassius 
Marcellus Clay could have written — or at least dictated 
— Advertisements for Myself if Norman Mailer, noted 
writer and would-be fighter, had not beaten him to it. 

But Sonny Liston and Floyd Patterson, as they pre- 
pared for what one of the myriad promoters described 
as “Boxing's Moon Shot the biggest boost the 
fight game ever received,” tol- 
erated the press with an un- 
precedented hostility, politely 
veiled by the tormented, for- 
ever insecure Floyd Patterson, 
impolitely unveiled by Sonny 
Liston, a man steeped in 
violence, who may be kind to 
his wife and fond of dogs and 
small children, but who 
punches into his outweighed 
sparring partners as if they 
were the sad, expendable hu- 
man chattels they are. 

The new champion says his 
idol is Joe Louis. Here he has 
chosen well. Boxing is a slum 
sport, born of poverty and a 
terrible need to break out of 
the hungry cellar of the have- 
nots, into the daylight of the 
wanted and the heeled, It is 
still the only way the poor, 
lost bottom dog, once the Irish, 
the Jew, the Italian, now the 
Negro and tomorrow the 
Puerto Rican, can fight his 
way up from overcrowded 
and broken homes, illiteracy, 
the delinquent gangs that 
become his true family, his 
streetcorner classrooms. Prize- 
fighting to our North Ameri- 
can society is what bullfighting 
is to the Spanish and the Mex- 
ican, the one escape hatch to 
fame and fortune and respect- 
ability for the child forsaken. 
(continued on page 136) 


By PHILIP WYLIE 


THE CAREER WOMAN 


momism’s corrosive critic dissects another deadly menace 


WHEN THE HISTORY OF THE WESTERN WORLD is finally written — that is, if anybody survives to set 
it down — one type of person will be noted as the perfect symbol, if not a major cause, of the 
dreadful and ridiculous dilemma of this age of cowed men and bullish women. That figure will 
be no ruling male, no president, hero, genius, statesman, athlete or other such pants-wearing 
Influence as has usually swayed the tides of human affairs. It will be a woman, a woman of a 
special kind — if the term woman may be stretched beyond natural compass to include sub- 
humanoids whose main function is to sabotage sexuality. 

The name we give these pseudobroads refers to a single aspect of them all: the fact that 
they have achieved commercial success in our society. Usually, that success lies in the general 
category of industry, commerce and business enterprise. This special breed may include females 
in the arts and professions, but it is mainly composed of executive brass — front-runners and 
she-mahouts in what we call the rat-race. Our name for them is career women. 

Legend and ancient history, art and letters have always endeavored to warn noble and 
aspiring males against career tendencies in the other sex. Pandora, for instance, was a career 
woman who — in an act characteristic of the mink-bearing dragons of our times — disregarded 
taboo and opened a chest to satisfy her greedy curiosity, thereby setting loose all the ills of 
humanity. Other symbolic precursors of today’s career women include the Harpies, Circe and 
Medusa, whose business enterprises were dedicated, respectively, to robbing strong men of their 
food, changing heroes into animals and turning men to stone, 

Again, one finds in Judeo-Christian literature a multitude of prophetic examples. Consider 
Delilah and Salome, a pair of Miss Asia Minors who used their sex appeal to advance political 
and industrial aims — at considerable cost to those males who would impede them. The Salome 
story is especially apt, inasmuch as the twisting doll not only got her man beheaded (at the behest 
of her unsavory mom) but, exactly like her numerous sisters of the present day, she afterward 
danced in proud, imbecilic ecstasy at her triumph. 

With such clear lessons embossed on the record it is saddening to observe that American 
men have not only neglected to heed them, but have also failed to note that hordes of such 
girl-guillotiners have now risen to lofty status in our midst. Some idea of the extent of milady’s 
invasion of occupation territory may be gleaned from the 1962 World Almanac's breakdown 
of job groups by sex: Under the once masculine-oriented category of “Managers, officials and 
proprietors, except farm,” a numbing total of 1,082,000 females is listed (as against 5,771,000 


XE: males); under the general category 
of “Professional, technical and kindred workers” the 
chilling ratio is 2,448,000 women to 4,753,000 men. 
Today, only a militant minority of alarmed males 
stands ready to combat this deadly encroachment; 
only a few recognize the unnerving but verifiable fact 
that we are now guided in our everyday lives almost 
as much by Gorgons as by Congress or Kennedy. 

If this appraisal seems, on casual reading, unwar- 
ranted, let the reader contemplate for a moment what 
it is that career women do. Where do they operate? 
In what areas of enterprise are they most numerous 
and powerful? Whom do they affect — and how? 

They are, of course, the sachems of style and fiefs 
of fashion. They edit, co-edit or subedit the churning 
flux of women's magazines which, in turn, point the 
eyes (and ears, noses, heads and grabby arms) of 
mom, sis, auntie and grandma at What to Buy next, 
What to Do next, Where to Go, and so forth ad 
nauseam. As every man knows—and most unthink- 
ingly accept — career women abound in a yet more 
directive and managerial field, that of advertising. 
Career women, perfumed pirates and inflated igno- 
ramuses, have also set themselves up publicly as sages, 
and in endless syndicated columns undertake to 
resolve, with a flaccid flutter of their mindless minds, 
problems from irresolute and baffled men — problems 
that Solomon wouldn't have touched after months of 
meditation. 

Indeed, nearly all our American media of so-called 
communication are so strongly influenced by these 
Harpies and Medusas that most citizens under 50 
years of age are not aware that there ever was a time 
when the sweet, sticky, claw-tipped fingers of females 
did not model or remodel, provide or withhold much 
of what we read, hear on radio and behold on TV. 
Consider, as the evidence, any big-city newspaper. 

Newspapers, at one time, were written, set in type 
and distributed with primarily a male audience in 
mind. They were dedicated to the purveying of solid 
news and to sober (or witty) intellectual editorializ- 
ing about the state and shape of the world. Such 
advertising as they contained was addressed to men — 
who, then, were America's purchasers — and not one 
ad had ever been censored, let alone “created” by any 
chrome-plated, high-heeled (and higher-handed) indi- 
vidual who was a woman only in that a post-mortem 
would show her to own the physical organs of the 
female. 

Look now, however, at the newspaper. More than 
half of it, providing it’s a successful journal, will 
consist of advertisements, of which 99 inches in every 
100 will be aimed at women, who have become the 
American purchasers. For male newspaper readers 
there is, still, some news and a sports section. But the 
latter, nowadays, is likely to be smaller than another 
called "Woman's Pages" and still another called 
"Society News" and perhaps a third, called "Home 
Section" — а perusal of which will leave the investi- 
gator aware of the strange fact that, in America, 
"Home" must be a place inhabited by women and 
children only, and run for them, by them. Indeed, 


the control exerted over us in this and kindred ways 
by career women has reached chilling proportions. 

What has wrought this reversal, this female ascend- 
ancy, this daily Krakatoa of candied crap? 

"The career woman. 

What is she like? 

Chic. That, always. Hat-bearing: A hat is, for her, 
what a miter is for a Pope, a crown for a Caesar. 
High-heeled. Suit-wearing. Middle-aged: It takes time 
to turn a girl into an ogre. Middle-aged, like mom, 
that vapid great-busted goddess of a castrated conti- 
nent. But incalculably more destructive. Beside her, 
mom and momhood are an absolute delight — in 
terms of basic motivation, misguided though it is. 

She can be attractive, even — though rarely — beau- 
tiful. Demonstrably, there are in business today many 
svelte, charming, chic, sexy women — but the man 
who is sharp of eye can detect in nearly all of them. 
the signs of burgeoning harridanism, and perceive 
premonitions of the hardening horror that is yet to 
be. Such a man must instantly be on the alert, for 
most dedicated career women will unhesitatingly use 
their sexuality in the manner of the Sirens, whose 
allure had a single professional intent: luring sailors 
off course and causing ships to be wrecked. The 
Jatter-day career woman has much the same obscene 
compulsion: She must compete with and, if necessary, 
cripple manhood and masculinity on earth, an enter- 
prise that in healthier times would have evoked a 
universal, deep-bass laugh of derision. 

But how can mien laugh who have been reared 
and bred in the ‘utterly unmale belief that they are 
lost, beat or silent? What have they to laugh at? Only 
themselves — and in a hollow, winded way that never 
will suffice to brush aside*this werewoman who made 
them what they aren'ttoday. 

It is true that not all men are docile in the face 
of her manipulative ploys. A growing percentage of 
knowledgeable males are coming to recognize these 
shrill humanoids for what they are, and are managing 
either to keep them at arm's length or to anticipate 
and counter their perfumed power plays. But even 
the optimists among us must concede that this per- 
centage is still pitifully small. 

What of her habitat? 

It is man’s and she has infiltrated every cubic 
foot of it with the single exception of the toilet. The 
career woman is most numerously found in offices 
in big-city skyscrapers. Here, in subdued, bounced 
light she sits behind an acreage of desk, walnut or 
mahogany, which has so dissatisfied her in its natural 
state (like everything else) that she has had it 
bleached, as if it were not elegant wood but mousy 
hair. Rarely the president or board chairman, she 
holds as much sway over both as she can glean by 
her characteristic methods: espionage, blackmail and, 
if she is up to it, whoring. She knows where all the 
boss’ bodies are buried and if she is not his mistress, 
which, usually, her synthetically deluding carcass 
prohibits, she knows where he keeps his wench. If — 
and the likelihood increases as career women multiply 
and virile men drop dead (continued on page 154) 


By МОНТ SAHL мот Sahl has long been one of PLAYmov's favorite 
° comedic commentators оп the contemporary scene. 

During the year just past, he had some amusing things 

to say about the magazine and the key club that 

PLAYEOY's editors felt readers would enjoy, so Mort 

consented to putting them down on paper, just the way 

he said them in his night-club act. For this reading, 

imagine you're in your favorite club: Mort is onstage, 

in his familiar sweater and open-necked shirt, but 

instead of the usual newspaper, he is holding PLAYBOY. 


THE OTHER EVENING, Out of desperation, I found myself 
in front of the Chicago Playboy Club. Whenever 
Hefner isn’t throwing a party at his house, the town 
gets pretty desperate. There aren’t any signs on the out- 
side of any of the Playboy Clubs, you know — just 
rabbits. But I recognized it and I went in. 

The Playboy Club in Chicago has five floors, and 
when I got into the lobby, I saw this sign, and it said, 
ENTERTAINMENT ON ALL LEVELS. All right, I thought. 
I'm ready for that! And then this girl came over to me 
— she was an ex-Playmate. You know — from the center 
of the magazine. Many are called, but few are chosen. 
She was wearing the Bunny ears, and the little cotton 
tail, and the black tie, with white collar and cuffs... 
that’s about all. And she said, “Good evening, I'm 
your Bunny Rosalie.” Or something like that. 

"Good evening,” I said. "Where's the action?" 

So this chick says to me — the Bunny, she says, “In 
the Playroom, sir—on the fifth floor. The Bunnies 
are Twisting.” 

Have you ever seen that? You've never danced the 
Twist until you've Twisted with a Playboy Bunny. In 
the Miami Playboy Club, the Bunnies Twist on the 
piano. They have a Twist Party and do this dance that 
is kind of the theme of the Club: Its the Ultimate 
Promise Unkept. That’s really it, you know. 

So I started up the stairs and about half way up, I 
came upon this businessman. He was stretched out on 
a landing and they were working over him, giving him 
Playboy Oxygen. He was kind of out of his head. He 
could remember his key number all right, but not his 
name. 

In the Playroom, there were a bunch of people sit- 
ting around and the members were Twisting with the 
Bunnies, and over in the corner I see the Editor- 
Publisher of PLAYBOY, (continued on page 152) 


SAHL ON PLAYBOY 


iconoclasm’s comic laureate pays 
the magazine and the key club a visit 


PLUMERI 


«I could 

sum up 

my life in 

four words: 

I have 

enjoyed 
living.” 


By ERNEST HEMINGWAY 


THE GREAT WRITER’S LAST REFLECTIONS 
ON HIMSELF, HIS CRAFT, LOVE AND LIFE 


No man can ever reveal me to the world more vividly than I 
have chosen to reveal myself. No man can conceal himself 
from his fellow men, for everything he fashions and creates 
interprets him. I tell people all about myself in my books. 


ON WRITING 

FROM MY VERY FIRST NOVEL, I seem to have been conscious of 
my destiny. I never for a moment doubted that I was the pioneer 
of a new era, and I realized that in future years my every act 
would be regarded with great interest. I therefore determined 
that posterity should have a truthful report of all my acts and 
thoughts. 

I AM A SEEKER for something beyond life and outside of time. 
But my aim is to present human life in its normal guise, never 
exalting or refining it. I am not a great thinker. I bring no 
burning messages to mankind. I know the world surprisingly 
well, however, and I touch its life at a thousand different points. 

I NEVER HAD TO CHOOSE A SUBJECT — my subject rather chose 
me. Like other authors before me, I delight in men of power, in 
masters of situations, in masters of men. I become so infatuated 
with my theme that I can devote myself to nothing else. Inspira- 
tion can be as passionate as love. 

MY NOVELS are drawn from the depths of my heart and expe- 
rience, but I am not content to give them forth spontaneously 
and thoughtlessly. My writing habits are simple: long periods 
of thinking, short periods of writing. 

I DO MOST OF MY WORK in my head. I never begin to write 
until ideas are in order. Frequently I recite passages of dia- 
log as it is being written; the ear is a good censor. I never set 
a sentence down on paper until I believe I have it so expressed 
that it will be clear to anyone. 

YET I SOMETIMES THINK my style is suggestive rather than 
direct. The reader must often use his imagination or lose the 
most subtle part of my thought. 

ITAKE GREAT PAINS with my work, pruning and revising with 
a tireless hand. I have the welfare of my creations very much at 
heart. I cut them with infinite care, and burnish them until 


А MAN’S CREDO 


they become brilliants. What many another writer would be 
content to leave in massive proportions, I polish into a tiny gem. 

I HAVE ТНЕВАВЕСІГТ of being able to apply my broad critical 
powers to my own work as if it were the production of another. 
I have not hesitated many times to reject that which a less con- 
scientious writer would have left unquestioned. 

ONE SHOULD NEVER WRITE except to please oneself. 1 am 
happy writing. But I am not always happy about what I write. 

I DO NOT BELIEVE that my books will ever stand as a monu- 
ment to my memory — I have tried to be honest in my humility. 
Tama writer by determination rather (continued on page 124) 


3 
3 
9 
9 
g 


ag 

9 
| 
Ë 


u 
3 
H 
9 
š 
š 
ч 


отч 

0 
ib 
"gd 


living. 


MEETING WITH HEMINGWAY 


from behind the iron curtain, a poetic 
tribute to america’s master of prose 


By EVGENY EVTUSHENKO 


We were sitting at an airport 

in Copenhagen drinking coffee. 

It was comfortable there, refined, 

and elegant to the last degree. 

Then suddenly he appeared — that old man 
in a plain green parka with a hood, 

his face deep tanned by the salty wind — 
loomed up rather than appeared. 
Furrowing through a crowd of tourists, 

he walked as if he’d just been sailing a boat, 
and like the sea-foam, his beard, 

grown whiter, fringed his face. 

He walked with grim, victorious 
determination, generating a big wave 


that swept through what was old but looked modern; 


and pulling open the rough collar of his shirt, 
he, refusing a vermouth or a Pernod, 
asked for a glass of Russian vodka at the bar, 


and pushed back with his hand the tonic: “No!” 


With roughhewn hands, all scarred and dented, 
in boots that made a mighty clatter, 
in trousers indescribably stained and greasy, 
he looked more elegant than anything nearby. 
‘The earth seemed to sink beneath him — 
so heavily did he tread upon it. 
And one of us commented with a smile: 
“Just look! The very spit of Hemingway!” 
Expressed in every gesture, he walked off 
with a fisherman’s ponderous gait. 
All out of granite roughly hewn, he walked 
as men step through fire, through the ages. 
He walked as if stooping in a trench; 
walked moving men and chairs aside . . . 
He resembled Hemingway so much! 
Later I learned 

that he indeed was Hemingway! 


«А long 
life 
deprives 
aman 
of his 
optimism. 
A short 
life is 
better.» 


PLAYBOY 


124 


MAN'S CREDO 


than natural talent — the best example of 
a self- le man that literature affords. 1 
have never deserved the enormous suc- 
ces amd fame that have been bestowed 
upon me. 

1 HAVE HAD MANY enthusiastic admirers 
who never read a single book of mine. 
But then the public has always tended 
to exaggerate my importance — aud un- 
derestimate my significance. 

BOOKS POSSESS AN ESSENCE ОЁ immor- 
tality. They are by far the most lasting 
products of human effort. Temples 
crumble into ruins, pictures and statues 
decay; but books survive. Time is of no 
account with great thoughts, which are 
as fresh today as when they first passed 
through their authors’ minds, ages ago. 
What was then said and thought still 
speaks to us as vividly as ever from the 
printed page. The only effect of time 
has been to sift and winnow out the 
bad products; for nothing in literature 
can long survive but what is really good. 

THE MODERN NOVELIST, aside from pa- 
tience and ability to work hard, must 
possess a rare combination of powers. He 
must have sound judgment and an 
accurate sense of proportion to select 
and reject among ponderous masses of 
material, and to arrange all with due 
subordination of parts and with a true 
perspective. He must possess imagina- 
tion, that he may project himself into 
the past as well as the present and 
actually live amid the themes which he 
describes. He must have critical insight, 
that he may trace causes and results and 
pronounce accurate judgments upon 
men and events. Only when a man has 
clear insight into the springs of human 
action can he truly begin to write well. 

FEW Novrts have everything: combat, 
pursuit, cruelty, sex, a host of strong 
characters, a story that plunges ahead 
like an armored division, and a respect 
for its characters and for truth. 

ALL THAT MANY NOVELISTS WRITE in 
their later years is simply a recombina- 
tion again and again of the scenes and 
characters and incidents of their earlier 
work, h less art and Jess enthusiasm 
and energy. 

TOO MANY MODERN NOVELS teach no 
lesson and serve no purpose, except to 
chill the blood by mere revolting physical 
horror. It makes me happy to read a new 
novel by an unknown novelist that is 
empty of bitterness, intensely charitable 
and generally wise. 

HE VALUE AND CHARM of a good book 
lic in its perfect simplicity, its frankness 
and its seemingly unconscious revela- 
tions of character and motive. It is sim- 
plicity both in language and thought. It 
is artless and free from conscious literary 
effort. But writing with straightforward 
simplicity is more difficult than writing 
h deliberate complexity. 


(continued from page 120) 


A WRITER'S STYLE should be direct and 
personal, his h and carthy, 
and his words simple and vigorous. The 
greatest writers have the gift of brilliant 
brevity, are hard workers, diligent schol- 
ars and competent stylists. 

MANY SUCCESSFUL writers are able to 
tell absorbing and expert stories about 
almost nothing. The greatest тагу 
faults of modern writers are thcir ten- 
dencies to overornament and their fond- 
ness for superficial glitter. 1 am always 
afraid of meeting a writer whose books 
are full of technical virtuosity. 

MUCH WRITING published today is crude 
and defective in art. Too many authors 
write rapidly and carelessly, seldom cor- 
recting their first manuscript dashed off 
in the heat of composition. As a result, 
the faults of their style are very glar- 
ing. Their dialogs are far from natural, 
their words ill-chosen, their English often 
slovenly in the extreme. Many of their 
novels are without unity of plot and 
action. The story is at times tediously 
spun out, running on and on like the 
tale of a garrulous storyteller. They seem 
to have little idea of what the next 
chapter of their novel will contain. And 
sometimes they drag in strange and 
utterly unnecessary scenes with no appar- 
ent reason whatever. They often intro- 
duce new characters near the end of the 
book. And their characters are ci 
monsters or angels, dissected with 
gusting minuteness. They act often with- 
out sufficient motive, are cold and life- 
less, mere symbols used in the solution 
of some vague, fantastic problem of 
destiny. And the plots are glaringly 
improbable. In these books there is little 
that is connected the real, i 
world. 


ON TOIL AND TIME 


IN A CALM SEA every man is a pilot. 

BUT ALL SUNSHINE without shade, all 
pleasure. without pain, is not life at all. 
Таке the lot of the happiest—it is а 
tangled yarn. Bereavements and bless 
ings, one following another, make us sad 
and blessed by turns. Even death itself 
makes life more loving. Men come closest 
to their true selves in the sober moments 
of life, under the shadows of sorrow and 
loss. 

COMMON OBSERVATION ought to teach 
us how impossible it is to avoid difficul- 
ties, if we would succced in any great 
enterprise. We ought to be thankful for 
them. They test our capacities of resist- 
ance. Character evokes out of frustra- 
tion. It is only after we have studied and 
tested ourselves, and overestimated our 
talents to our injury, more than once, 
that experience gives us the proper es 
mate of our own strength and weakness. 

TO REGRET ONE'S ERRORS to the point of 
not repeating them is true repentance, 
There is nothing noble in being superior 


10 some other man. The truc nobility is 
in being superior to your previous self 

IN THE AFFAIRS OF LIFE or of business, 
it is not intellect that tells so much as 
character, not brains so much as heart, 
not genius so much as self-control, pa- 
tience and discipline, regulated by judg 
ment. 

WISDOM 15 LIFE'S LAST GIFT to the ma 
ture mind. The man of experience learns 
to rely upon time as his helper. Time has 
been described as a beautifier and as a 
consoler; but it is also a teacher. It 
the food of experience, the soil of wis- 
dom. It may be the friend or the enemy 
of youth. Time will sit beside the old 
as а consoler or as a tormentor, accord- 
ing as it has been used or misused, and 
the past life has been well or ill spent. 

LIFE IS ALMOST SPENT before we know 
what it is But existence is not to be 
measured by mere duration. An oak 
lives for centuries, generation after gen- 
eration of mortals in the meanwhile 
passing away. But who would exchange 
for the life of a plant a single day of the 
existence of a living, conscious, thinking 
man? 

THERE ARE SO MANY THINGS in life that 
are so beautiful and so deeply moving 
that I feel a little ashamed for not having 
appreciated them more. Still, I could 
sum up my life in four words: I have 
enjoyed living. 

ON DEATH AND FEAR 


THE воок which I wished to be the 
crowning work of my life was The Old 
Man and the Sea. The work was done 
under great difhculties Old age was 
creeping upon me. But few men die of 
old age. Almost all die of disappoint 
ment, passionate, mental or bodily work, 
or accident. Man is the most hard worked 
of all animals. A long life often deprives 
man of his optimism. A short life is 
better. 

THERE 15 SCARCELY ANY MAN who has 
not, at one time or another in the course 
of his life, suffered more pain than is 
ordinarily felt by people when they die. 
The pang of death, a famous doctor 
once told me, is often less than that 
of a toothache. 

ALL ARE CALLED To BATTLE and destined 
to die, but cowards die futilely. I have 
always believed that the first duty for 
a man is still that of subduing fear. 
Nothing discourages a man more than 
cowardice and a fear of danger. The 
smooth way it makes difficult, the diffi- 
cult inaccessible. Human beings often 
undergo much needless fear because they 
are afraid to search out all the facts. 
For fear of finding the fact worse than 
the fear, they often fear what is much 
worse than the fact. They go on through 
life thinking they have seen a ghost, and 
miserable in the thought. It is better to 
know the worst than live on week after 
weck in fear of the worst. 

(concluded on page 175 


a portfolio of the past d 


MISS OCTOBER: LAURA YOUNG 


PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW 


THE NEW YEAR, WROTE POET EDWARD FITZGERALD, is a time for “reviving old desires." So it is with 
New Year's resolve that we now recall the joys—or rather, the Myras, Lauras, Robertas and 
Junes — that unfolded before us in our past 12 Playmate-of-the-Month features. The happy and 
Obviously rewarding search for our perfect dozen took us this year to the north woods of Canada (for 
two Playmates), to the sound stages of Hollywood (for two morc), to a country club, a department 
store, a riding stable, and — not surprisingly — to our own Playboy Clubs. Conjuring up the pleasures 
of the notsodistant past, our sentimental journey begins with a return to languid Laura Young, 
whom we first met on the rolling green of a golf course where she carded an impressive 36-25-36. 
Since appearing as our Playmate in October, Laura has attracted a national gallery as a fashion model. 


MISS MARCH: PAMELA GORDON 


ntilevered (39-23. 
itecture of a Vancouver 
construction firm receptionist 
named Pamela Anne Gordon 
gained her the additional prom- 
inence, in March, of becoming 
PLAYBOY's first Canadian Play- 
mate. Since then, prodigious 
Pam — an indoor girl at heart — 
has bowed to demands for an 
encore by signing on as one of 
the showbiziest Bunnies at our 
Chicago Playboy Club. Right: A 
teenage bent for nonstop tele- 
phone talking was displayed by 
beguiling bobby-soxer Roberta 
Lane when she appeared at her 
blue-jeaned best as our April 
Playmate. Now she chats o 
business phone as a grown-up 
girl Friday for a New York lin 
gerie manufacturer. Our sylvan 
shot of Bobbie sans sox proves 
that she is still quite obviously 
the right number (34-21-34). 


MISS APRIL: ROBERTA LANE 


Right: Kittenish Kari Knudsen, 
a Norwegian with a knack for 
knitting, was fittingly featured 
in nothing but a sweater as our 
February Playmate. Now a New 
Yorker, Kari hasn’t tarried in 
her pursuit of acting hoi 

she's been seen in such TV 
series as Naked City and T he 
Defenders and has also added 
her touch to A Touch of Mink. 
Returning to our pages, Kari 
again pulls our eyes over the 
wool — and her 36-23-35 figure, 


MISS FEBRUARY: KARI KNUDSEN 


MISS NOVEMBER: AVIS KIMBLE 


Right: Cat fanciers may re- 
member that a sleepy Siamese 
lounged contentedly on the cov- 
ers of Avis Kimble’s downy bed 
when we captured the Kimble 
contours in our November is- 
sue. The rest of us, however. are 
more likely to remember Avis. 
an upbeat bohemian of literary 
bent and artistic (39-22-36) lines 
who was equally at home on 
either side of an easel. Continu- 
ing to pursue her muse, Avis is 
currently penning a book of 
poetry. Left: A freewhecling bi- 
cyclist built (36-22-36) for beau 
ty, California's Merissa Mathes 
wore only a beribboned bonnet 
when she appeared as our pas- 
toral Playmate in June. After 
her camera poise was uncovered, 
Merissa forsook the cycling path 
for the high road to Hollywood. 
But a movie career is only a 
peddle push toward her ultimate 
ambition: her own cattle ranch. 


MISS JUNE: MERISSA MATHES 


Left: The dog days of August 
held no terriers (or poodles ei 
ther) for PLAYROY readers who 
caught the cool beauty of gener- 
ously (3 35) endowed Jan 
Roberts as she perched in pumps 
and the mere suggestion of a 
negligee over a breakfast bar in 
her Chicago aparunent. Unlike 
many Playmates who have gone 


on to win their ears as Playboy 
Club Bunnies, Jan was one of 
our hutch honeys even before 
she made the centerfold scene. 


MISS AUGUST: JAN ROBERTS 


MISS MAY: MARYA CARTER 


Right: Off California’s rocky 
coast we first caught sight of 
mermaidenly Marya Carter, our 
Playmate for May. A sprightly 
water nymph who showed flaw- 
less (37-23-36) form as a scuba- 
and-ski buff, Marya minus 
swimsuit is enough to lure any 
man onto the rocks. Since her 
splash on our pages, Marya has 
abandoned her beachnik ways 
to get into the swim of show- 
biz as a fixture on Jackie Glea- 
son's weekly TV spectacular. 


MISS SEPTEMBER: MICKEY WINTERS 


Right: In September, when we 
pictured high-tiding Mickey 
Winters “hitting the hay” in a 
lofty pose, several of our readers 
needled us by agreeing that 
Mickey was stacked (36-18-34) 
indeed, but upon oat straw 
rather than hay. Straw vote or 
gallop poll, our answer to Lady 
Godiva still ranked as one of the 
most popular Playmates of the 
year. Left: Unne Terjesen was 
framed in regal splendor when 
she appeared as our July Play- 
mate. But there is a tomboyish 
half to elegant (39-23-39) Unne 
that blossoms, from time to time, 
into tree climbing and motor- 
cycle mania. Runner-up in the 
1960 Miss Norway contest, Unne 
forsook fjords to come to Van- 
couver two years ago. Since her 
PLAYBOY debut, she has moved 
into full-time fashion modeling. 


MISS JULY: UNNE TERJESEN 


MISS JANUARY: MERLE PERTILE 


Left: When we first considered 
pert Merle Pertile as a Playmate 
candidate, we felt certain we 
had seen her somewhere before. 
And so we had; Merle was a 
regular on our Playboy's Pent- 
house TV show originating in 
Chicago. In the 12 months since 
we channeled her into the pages 
of PLAYBOY, Merle has roled up 
an impressive list of Hollywood 
credits. But even before she gar- 
nered speaking parts, her projec- 
tion (38-22-34) was outstanding. 


Right: Proof that the Yule sea- 
son is a joyous one was fetch- 
ingly offered in our December 
issue with the unwrapped pres- 
ence of five-foot-two June Coch- 
ran, gifted with 36-20-34 holiday 
trimming. An Indiana lass who 
has won her state title in both 
the Miss Universe and Miss 
World contests, June is now 
a convention co-ordinator. But 
one look at June in January 
is enough to convince us that 
she's far from just conventional. 


MISS DECEMBER: JUNE COCHRAN 


“... And I hereby resolve 
to be a good girl 
this coming year — 
Starting first thing ` 
tomorrou morning!” — = 


Ribald 
Classic 


A GARRISON HAD BEEN SET UP in Turino 
for the purpose of providing quarters 
for the wives of Italian Army officers on 
the march. Named to the det 
of this garrison w youthful 
known among hi 
to enjoy even the most adverse cire 
stances. 


ppearances notwithstanding, this 
n detail was indeed adverse, for 
while the men were surrounded by an 
abundance of women at all times, like 
wise they were under the cha 
elderly colonel whose sole bi 
s the book of m 


tary regula- 


s in this atmosphere that the ser 
geant made the acquaintance of an аг 
tractive young woman, the wife of an 
officer 20 years her senior who was inter- 
ested in matters of the military much 
more than in matters of the heart. The 
sergeant found in her a girl whose very 
being exuded the spirit of life. Immedi- 
tely he fell in love with her; and, as 
swiftly, she became enamored of him. As 


might be expected, soon their knowledge 


al as well as 


of each other became phy 
spiritual. 

At the 
garrison wa 
major, herself. qu 
ibutes that attr: 


ame living also in the 
the widow of an elderly 
te lacki п the at- 

was in- 


not see fit to associ th 
and thereupon vowed that she would 
make him regret his ch. 

One night, while the two young lovers 
were together in а particular barn, the 
old woman entered with a light. Seeing 
her before she saw them, the lovers be- 
to run. The sergeant, completely 
ed, fell over a milking stool, and was 
ed by the woman. Immediately, 
accosted the colonel and related the 
happening to him; then she demanded 


e in women. 


na 
obse 


an old Italian tale 


that the sergeant be disciplined. The 
colonel, however, held to another view. 
arding evidence 
that hearsay is inadmi 
“Therefore, it is impo: 
¢ adultery, as you claim, for we 
know not that he was adulterous except 
by your accusation, Our knowledge 
limited to the fact that he was found un 
clothed, This, milady, is not adultery. 
Thereupon the old woman proceeded 
to the librar arked upon 
a study of legal volumes. Two days later 
she emerged and marched to the colonel’s 
office, where she charged that the ser 
geant was guilty of being out of uniform. 
"The colonel nodded thoughtfully and 
sent out arresting officers, for, in truth, 
the charge did apply. L 
he journeyed to the library himself and 
gazed reflectively upon the inscription, 
"Ubi Iniuria, Ibi Remedia ("Where 
there is an injury, there is also a cure"). 
He spent several hours in meditation and 
ned to the court, whereupon he 
ruled as follows: 
n such instances as members of the 
military are engaged in sport, they may 
elect to wear whatever clothing might be 


ewise, however, 


are engaged, in which ev 
be no violation if the attire is neat. 

"The sergeant was freed, returned to his 
lover and proceeded to enjoy the circum- 
stances. Meanwhile the colonel sched 


uled ol appointments for the 
old woman, at which appointments, he 
ave us believe, he intended to 


be more fully the law as pertains 
to questions of suitability. Naturally, we 
are inclined to draw our own conclusion: 
on the subject, keeping at all times in 
mind the colonel's wisdom and his motto. 


—Retold by Paul J. Gillette EB 


135 


> 


PLAYB 


SCHULBERG 


Over the years it has been fascinating 
for me to watch the development of 
young men with little or no educati, 
no poise except with their gloved hands 
inside a fighting ring, no confidence with 
their so-called ^ 
their way to m y 
ment. Joe Louis came out of the dark 
nowhere ol depression- and prejudice- 
ridden Detroit, but fast of hand and 
slow of speech, there was а grace about 
the dressing room and at the 
training camp conference, that quickly 
wou the not easily given hearts of the 
working press. 

If necessity is the mother of invention, 
the mother of 
y. Joe Louis said little, but 
1 substance. When Wen 
n the eloquent Presidential 
candidate, in the ring for the Joe Louis- 
Buddy Baer World War H charity fight, 
told the crowd that we were sure to win 
because God was on our side, unlettered 
Joe corrected him. Said the champion, 
putting his tide on the line for nothii 
patriotic gesture no aircraft or electronics 
Ve 


responsibility may be 
hum: 


n dign 
he said 


dell Willk 


God's sid. 
ble and his sponsors were a pati of well- 
endowed numbers men from Detroit, but 
the responsibility of the heavyweight 
championship rested nicely on his broad 
and supple shoulders. You might say he 
grew imo the job, as did, in their individ- 
ual ways, Jim Braddock and Rocky Mar- 
ciano. 

Others have failed their roles for rea- 
sons interesting to analyze even if you 
are not keen fans or close students of this 
cruel chess game of a sport. Jack Sharkey, 
clever for his size, appeared to take one 
of the rare dives in the history of this 
championship when he fell before Primo 
Carncra, who towered like Samson and 
punched with all the power of a second- 
rate featherweight. Primo, delivered up 
for slaughter by the mob after they had 
fattened on his purses, was mercilessly 
chopped down by Maxie Baer, the for- 
ble frontrunner, who preferred 

his roadwork with the opposite 
blew his 10-1 shot to Braddock, th 


brave reread, and had to be lifted oft 
the rubbing table to 


to his executi 
ag Since this is a crucl 
sport, it makes excessive demands on 
the flesh and spirit. It has its own dure 
code. Primitive and primordial it may 
be, but in this day of automation, the 
organization man, conformity, the brood- 
ing passivity of the beats and the beat- 
niks, I find the old-fashioned virtues, 
pride, courage and personal determin: 
tion attractive, even inspiring elements 
separating men from sheep and cham- 
pions hom pseudochampions looking 
for paynights, m sing throug! 
s and knows the 
- Chicago, where Floyd Patter 


Joc Loi 


h. 


(continued from page 116) 


son, the heavyweight Hamlet, earned or 
rather received 513499 per second for 
his inept and futile wo minutes and six 
seconds against Sonny Liston, the pile 
driver who walks like a man, is the city 
where the referee was counting out Jersey 
Joe Walcou while J. J. was counting his 
money after Marciano had dumped the 
aging cutie in round one. And long ago 
in the same cow-town metropolis on the 
lake there was the stirring onc-rounde 
between Joe Louis and Kingfish Levin- 
sky, who had to be pried loose from h 
stool and literally flung into what was 


laughingly called combat by his brave 
managers, including his sister, a lady who 


surely would have provided more oppo- 
sition for Joe that sorry night. Chicago 
hterhouse ad perhaps 
is the pervading odor of sudden. sledge 
hammer death that hangs over its col 
seums that numbs the nervous systems 
of its one round tors 
But the crowd — 4000 of whom paid 
5100 per seat and wandered from Com- 


tow 


iskey Park asking each other what Liston 
had hit Patterson with, while 14,000 


others (about half of what had been 
expected) paying down to SIO for seats 
from which even Liston looked like 

midget — didn't even bother to ask cach 
other because nobody had seen nothin’. 
This crowd remembers. It will be a long 
time before Roy Cohn and the Brothers 
Bolan lure them back to Comiskey, even 
if it’s scaled from five bucks le to 
four bits in the bleachers. One redeem- 
4 feature of the fiasco was the safety 
valve of American laughter. “I have 
better fights with my wife," one frus- 
trated ticket holder was heard to say. 
And outside as the disappointed lcd 
imo the night, resourceful vendors 
hawking their pathethic souvenirs were 


croaking, "Here ya are — only 15 cents — 
here ya getya money's worth.” A few 
passersby smiled, but no sale, The $100- 


seat celebrities were oll to the parties to 
drink and ogle fancy ladies. Then 10- 
buck aficionados, who had come to root 
Patterson, the "mood guy,” were in no 
mood to wave any Liston banners over 


their bei Here and there a true fan of 
the old days remembered a genuine 
heavyweight defense in his town, 25 years 


before, almost to the day. 

That was when Jim Braddock, whom 
Joe Gould had resurrected from the Jer- 
sey docks, was in there against the 23 
year-old Joe Louis. No one gave the old 
longshoreman a chance. Joe Gould, who 
told me the whole story shortly before 
he passed on to wherever good fight 
man: о, had taken the preca 


ion 


of looking out for Jim (and Gould) by 
making one of the silent provisions of 
the deal a 10 percent interest in Louis’ 
future title purses. That was Gould's 
business. Braddock's business was to 


fight. He performed with honor. The 


word pride comes readily to Patterson's 
lips. but Braddock carried his pride 
where it seems to function best. A more 
seasoned, betterschooled fighter than 
Patterson, never overprotected Dy 
shrewdly paternalistic manager like Cus 
D'Amato, a veteran of Queensberry wars, 
Braddock was able to knock Louis down. 
But Joe got up and came on, stronger 
le the old legs of Gould's 
were running down like a 


ever 
breadw: 


aner 


mechanical toys. At the end of seve 

Gould, a man of sensitivity, whose pock- 
s were bulging with the advance money 
п cash, th of his client's health, 


and perhaps of their newly acquired in- 
terest in the imminent champion, urged 
Braddock to surrender. “If you let ‘em 
stop it, UH never speak to you again 
muttered the hopelessly outgunned de- 
fender. “I wanna lose it in the middle 
of the ring where T belong, 

Louis obliged him in the next round, 
knocking him cold. Braddock was satis- 
fied. Thats how prizefighters are, when 
they are. Thus spoke B; Ross when 
Henry Armstrong was d him a 
beating it seemed impossible for this 
old welterweight marvel to survive. He 
sted on suffering his ordeal to the 
al bell of the 15th. It is a kind of 
pride that passes understanding for us 
ordinary mortals, 

There seem to be two kinds of cour 
age, the suspension of the imagination 
that Hemingway once described, and the 
control of the imagi 
who devoted most of his life and his 
art to this basic but complex problem, 
called the latter се under pressure.” 
I wonder if Hemingway and other nov- 
elists have been to prizefights. not only 
because. the outdoor ude fight is an 
Americam social phenomenon, but be 
cause à man comes into a stripped 
to his essentials, He cannot depend on 
the support a of tea 
mates. There he Попе under the 
heat of the ring lights and the thousand 
eyes of the crowd for whom it is so 
easy. A distinguished colleague of mine, 
who knows his sweet science, has written 
in another magazine that he is leery of 
psychological interpretations of prize- 
fights. The men simply come in and fight 
to the best of their skills, he says. I 
dissent. | mcn beat then 
selves in training camps. 1 have seen 
man take the fight out of a better man 
by convincing him that the former is i 
control. It is a way of getting oll, a way 
етип, And beyond this, there is 
the chess game, the feinting, the correct 
appraisal оГ the other man's rhythm 

agem of allowing punches 
ncingly, so as to build up 
false confidence, Encouraged, the oppo- 
t grows careless, Thinking of moves 
ahead, the chess-playcr-fighier. i: 
ing for the opening he will provoke 
There are ruses and counterruses, but at 


have scen 


w 


last the true 
itself. 
Discussing the aborti 
the most lucrati 
history tic p the 
fight headquarters in Chicago, 1 was tell- 
ing a New York sportswriter how I. had 
enjoyed pre ht assignments be- 
like a painter making sketches 
Tor some longer work, I could put down 
in the best words at my disposal the 
form, the look, the feel, the si 
details of the match. They had been 
like exerci in creative writing: Ob- 
serve closely, then bry to recreate the 
experience. This u 
stead of the ex 
had barely begun. € was no 
fight, onc must probe deeper, behind 
the fight, around dhe fight, with a hard 
look at the past and an educated look 
into the future. That's right, he agreed, 


ature of the m 


moon shot,” 


е 


Cause, 


I don't qualify for any of those, but 
if Norman Mailer, with whom I lived 
first in friendly, then in anxious prox- 
mity during that agitated fight weck in 
Chicago, can swing on Archie Moore 
the night of the fight (Archie slipped it 
nicely and retired to a neutral corner) 
and preempt Liston's chair at the press 
conference the following morning and 
call the new champion a bum (clean-cut 
decision for Liston, leaving not blood 
but egg on fearless young novelist’s face) 
— that kind of courage is infectious and 
so 1 came away from Chicago ready to 
the new champion and the ex- 


ghting men, as rackei 


prone, as potential millionaires and as 
I doubt if there is such a 
ге going in 


rehabilitées. 
word, but the way things 
the boxing business I fca 
u ge already 
overburdened with little monsters like 
finalized and psyched. 

Sonny Liston, even if he remains a 
dark spot on the conscience of the New 
York Athletic Commission, and other 
august bodies who frown on ex-cons with 
underworld conr i 
disputed champion of this troubled 
word. He is the most heavyweight this 
witness has seen since Joe Louis. He is 
not s Joe, as crisp or as clever 
but he is bigger and stronger. Louis 
he was in his 
he weighed. as 
terson 1 
. Liston is 
d overstutled 214. 

ıd ponderous 


ections, is now the un- 


s fast 


scaled. under 200 when 
when 


youthful prime; 
much as Liston 
was overwe 
a true, not à 
He is not as 


some of the experts believed. Watching 
him wain at the forlorn, abandoned 
racetrack, Aurora Downs, he performed 


his now celebrated ropeskipping dance 
to the wild strains of his favorite Night 


Train for 24 minutes. Joe Louis, and 


war dance, was impressed. In fact а 
number of writers, this one included, 
were plain frightened. He skips rope 
with a primitive, nimble vengeance tha 
belies his size and dramatizes his superb 
condition. In the past I have seen finely 
conditioned athletes, Louis and Marci 
ano for two, and Liston now forms with 
them a trinity of holy terrors. If no 
suitable contender can be dredged up 
— and the runners-up now seem a pitiful 
collection — he may have a future as a 
novel attraction at the Сора and the 
spas of Vegas. skipping his own unique 
choreography to the screaming beat of 
Night Train. 1 think I'd go to sce it 
in, which is more than most of us 
who were there could say for a rep 
of his demolishment of Patterson. Willie 
Reddish, his big, атаа, surly-cyed, 
mournful-moustached trainer, plays а 
grim second banana to another promis 
ing act. Willie hurls a 12-pound med 
ball with all his old Philadel 
at Liston’s belly, which 
blow without а flicker of reaction from 
Liston's face. In fact Liston's ma 
atures are а study in imperturb; 
The heavy b: 
as from a br 
it back noncl 
ing for Willie to throw 
Everybody obeys Li 
camp. He has no ma 


a of 


at 


is his 


=== Брет 


“The way that snow is piled 
we'll probably be st 


"adviser," in little eager-beaver Jack 


Nilon, a Philadelphia caterer to football 
games who scems to have been chosen for 
this position of responsibility near the 
throne because he never set eyes on or 
even heard of Blinky Palermo. Palermo 
is the well-known Philadelphia philan. 
thropist presently out оп 5100,000 bail 
for attempting to muscle in on an erst- 
while welterweight champion called Don 
Jordan. Blinky enjoys a reputation for 
taking wonderful care of his fighters on 
the way up. Ask Billy Fox or Johnny 
Saxton, sometime when you happen to 
be dropping in on the asylum, It would 
be nice if one could tell the Sonny Liston 
Story without soiling it with the fi 
prints of “our man in Philadelphi; 
honesty, or at least a few honest doubts, 
prevail. 

ston hits the speed bag with quicker 


Li 
hands than his heft would suggest, occa- 


sionally ripping the hide off it to expose 
its bulging bladder. On the heavy 1 
be throws the meanest left hook T have 
ever seen, When he drops this awful 
weapon on his light heavyweight. spar- 
ring partners, their legs tremble and 
they double in pain. It is not pretty to 
- Sonny was one of 25 children 
the cotton-picking fields of Arkansa: 
they say his old 
off to the wilds of St. Louis, beat him 
every day until Sonny grew big enough 


ап, whose wife had run 


up out there, Miss Johns, 
uck here a week." 


137 


PLAYBOY 


k. He ran off to St. Louis 
ге and anger 
out of the 
. There was 
ad tame bim, 
ow Souny can 


10 beat him b 
10 hunt down his mother: 
made a cop-ighter and a m 
boy who prowled the streci 
no Wiltwyck to reform a 
in Patterson's ic. N 
out his hostilities, as we alysts 
y. on his little sparring partners, The 
mpion of the world, as of 9:30 р.м. 
on the night of September 23th. was to 
fare no better. Sonny's sparmates call 
him The Bear and fear his viciousness 
ıd more their S25 per round 
Floyd Paterson, enjoying the 
compensation of $1,700,000 for 
ids of a round, was not made 
happy by the experience 

After Liston had shown all I needed 
to see to reconfirm an carly summer 
opinion, 1 attached myself to а small 
select group of sportswriters who were 
to have a private audience with Liston 
hefor press conference. These 
were reporters for national weeklies and 
big-city sports desks Bob T. 
perman who happens to 
üicntation with Liston and 
sociability with the rest of us, went in 
mood Sonny is in." “IE he's 
good mood he'll sec you gue 
ned, somewhat apologetically. "I 
he's good 
not judged this from the 
workout 1 had just seen, only that The 
r had a hell of a left hook. 

Bob Teague returned to say that he 
was awfully sorry but Sonny was not 
‘ood mood after all. Liston, it seems, 
à blind man with a heightened sei 
ol touch, compensates for a slight inabi 
ity to read and write by remembering the 
faces of newspapermen whose comments 
have offended him. He had spotted such 
a culprit in the crowd. For a man who 
e ball hurled at his 
stomach with cumonball speed, he is 
as thin-skinned as Patterson and much 
more forcelul in expressing his resent- 
ments. He does not like newspaperme 
to reer to his past. Since he has been 
arrested 19 times since 1950, served 
headbreaker Гог John Vitale, a St. Louis 
netherworlder with both Teamster and 
suspected Mafia connections, and has 
twice been picked up with Barney Bak 
the 300-pound Teamster enforcer now 
doing time for selling out his union 
brothers for a couple of Gs, it is some- 
times difficult for reporters to keep som 
ol these unhappy facts from creeping 
10 their Liston pieces. So bye-bye good 
od, ^ ing ton 
опе of the newsweekly men pr 
“Who the hell does he think he 
asked а man from а worl 
needed the interview. 
Sonny Liston, the next champion of the 
world, and I^ 
another. 


han e: 


to see 


could 


se 


o will not si 


nr 


We contented ourselves. with 


138 his distinguished visitor, Ingemar Jo- 


hansson. who, for one mad and glorious 
year, held this profitable championship. 
Liston worc his hair tight to his head 
'з cap. He fixed his small 
with an ask-me-a-question-L- 
dare-ya glare. Perhaps for that reason 
the first question was addressed to Ingo, 
the Swedish capi In one paper h 
had picked Patterson for his speed. In 
another paper he had touted Liston for 
his strength. Which side was he ow 
Ingemar peered at the stolid Liston 
through his shrewd baby-blue eyes. “1 — 
don't know,” he said after a suspenseful 
pause. "For this the great expert 
mported Irom Goteborg,” we muttered. 
Then Ingo was asked about his sub- 
poena; seems he put his hand out on 
arrival anticipating a handshake, and an 
unkindly swanger slipped a 
into it, enjoining him not to le: 
country until he had anted up the cool 
million Uncle Sam is looking for in 
back 

Now the rebel, the outsider that Sonny 
Liston has been all his life showed in 
a broad smile. He and Ingo weren't 
blick man and white man but 
Icllow-victims of the Law. 
ya U shake hands with strangers,” Sonny 
hed, for the firs Another tix 
question tossed Ingo's way brought this 
warning from Sonny: “Don't tell him 
nothin’, ya'll just make it wors 

When the questions turned to Sonn 
craft, why he was working so little with 
his right, did he have a plan for the 
fight, just how good a fighter did he 
think Patterson was, the eternal post- 
workout interrogation, Sonny was sullen 
He thought the questions were 
h and obvious, and to most of them 
he merely grunted and glared. "You 
fellers look at the sun, then ya me 
His faithful col- 
Reddish, Palino, Purolli, who 
ve been loyal yardmen in the vine- 
yards of Blinky Palermo, were studies in 
асса hostility. In fact, in some 
ars of taining camp visits, this 
was the most unfriendly. "Its like cov- 
cring Lubi 1 whispered to a friend 
whose question had just been answered 
with а Liston look, a stare that puts 
Karloff’s and Lugosi's in the Bobbsey 
Twins class, And when Liston did talk, 
his voice sounded muffled and dista 
from some hole deep inside 
as if issuing up out of a tomb. 

H a top New York stage d 
been asked to design ideally contra 
training camps for Liston and P 
he could not have provided better than 
Aurora Downs and Marycrest, the bu 
colic Catho! farm reueat for under 

ivileged children where Patterson w 
six months of intensive prepa- 
ration for the listless two-minute fight 
It was а lovely fall day, harvest time i 
Hlinois with fields of yellow cornstalks 
ud horses grazing im green meadows. 
There was Ted Carroll, the erudite 


audience 


now, 


s 


Negro cartoonist now installed 
terson press attaché, We reminisced 
about the night we were stranded to- 
gether at the Robinson-Gavilan fight 
outside Philadelphia and jumped the 
Ck of an open truck as rain be: 
fall. We remembered the first Walcott- 
Marciano fight when Rocky was down, 
azed and cut in the first round, doubled 
almost to the dropping point in the 12th, 
and then with the blood continuing to 
sucam down into his eyes, somehow 
pulled himself together out of sc 
blindne: ad dropped Walcott with a 
classic hook to the jaw. We were in one 
of the front press rows, and it seemed 
as if the entire population of Brockton 
Mass, was running up our backs, across 
our shoulders and leaping from our 
heads into the ring to embrace their 
new champion. 

Cus D'Amato, a strange, squat monk 
of a man who had served as Patterson's 
ali in Floyd's groping, amateur 
days alter his return from Wiltwyck, but 
whom Floyd has gradually, persistently 
cut out of his life, was running The 
Floyd Patterson Story, à remarkable film 
documentary that proves conclusively 
that Floyd Patterson is the greatest 
heavywei: since Sullivan and Corbett 
went at cach oth the first Queens- 
berry title fight (gloves, no longer to а 
finish, three-minute rounds, etc). The 
film opens with Corbett losing his tide 
to Ruby Bob Fitzsimmons with Bat Mas- 
terson as the third man. 
1 been part of my box 
Corbett the master boxe 
mons the bald freak of a 
who could take out rank: heavyweights 
with a single punch. In this bit of grainy 
film history, they looked slow and un- 
tractive. Ruby Bob fetches Corbet onc 
the stomach pit and down slides my 
idol, slumping along the canvas without 
any noticeable elfort to rise, as had Wil- 
lard and Dempsey and Louis and Marci- 
ano. “A couple of bums,” Cus commented 
over the sound track. “Floyd would've 
licked them both the same night.” 


The film went on to show in- 
domitable tiger leaping on and devour- 


g а score of 
glowingly descri 
edited mayhem r 


opponents, each onc 
bed. When the well- 
ched Archie McBride 


ined in 
Pennsylvania bam and the local 
ı and 1 had been his first mana- 
had thought of him for the 
of Trenton and Readi 
had not realized he would final 
the Garden with Paterson, in Havana 
with Valdez, then the number one con- 
tender, in g lethal Bob 
Satterfield, and a squeaker 1o 
Johansson in Goteborg, where the local 


I felt a pang, for Archie had t 
my 


figh 
inthe {ter Floyd dropped Archie 
to his hands and knees for the full count 


REMEMBER HOW WE 
MET STEVIE? THE 
VERY FIRST WORDS 
U0U EVER 
SAID TO 


SEARCHING Bol - 
LUSTING AFTER 
ABSOLUTES ID А 


AN IMMATURE 


І BECAME 
DEDICATED TO 


END 10 ми 


AU END O 
SEARCHING! 


THEN ЧОО ARE 
Чое OWN 
MAN NOW, 
STEVIE Z V 


A WILO, HUNGRY 600 


GODLESS WORLD- 


PICTURE, DOROTHY, 


APATHY Í ALL 1 
ASKED WAS AN 


INNER TORMENT- 


I WAG A 
BOY тна) 
DOROTHY. 


-HAVE ЧО) READ. 
“DAS КАРТА." 


AND THEN) - DISILLUSION 

AUD VESPAIR. A 

REJECTION OF ALL 

THINGS HOLY AND 

UNHOLY - A LOSS 
OF FAITH IN 
MAN - 


AND FINALY -A NEW 
AWAKENING- A NEW 
VICION- A LEAVING 
BEHIND OF ALL 
DOGMA- AT LAGT 
I HAD LOST 
Ми PAGSION 
FOR FALSE 
60051 


HAVE You 
READ ANY 
“ZEN? 


139 


PLAYBOY 


in the seventh. Archie had cried and 


apologized for not doing better. "Too 
many hands,” he kept saying, staring at 


the floor from the rubbing table with 
that listless dejection that follows physi- 
cal beating. On the previous Sunday a 
key McBride sparmate had failed to show 
our farm and I had offered myself as 
a brief sacrifice to Archie's conditioning. 
I was worried about Arch because you 
can get to know a fighter so well you can 
almost smell his probable conquerors 
and victims. Archie was a small heavy- 
weight, like Patterson, but slower and 
he looked better against big men, bruis- 
ers, Valdez, Besmanoff, Miteff . . . Bob 
Baker was the target we had wanted, but 
the word from New York was Patterson. 
Floyd had already bested Archie in in- 
formal sparring sessions when they were 
both at the same camp training for 
other fights. “I'll try to move around 
and you try not to hurt me," I said to 
Archie. He assured mc that to injure his 
benefactor was the furthest thing from 
his mind. Thirty seconds later, with a 
mild jab, he broke my nose. In fact after 
one minute I looked as smashed up as 
Tony De Marco after Carmen Basilio 
had worked him over in that brutal wel- 
terweight ude fight in Boston. 

My brief encounter with McBride 
taught me a lesson. Writers should stop 
fighting and leave the profession to the 
men who make it their business. For 
some unaccountable reason novelists 
have a tendency to commit рив; 
Hemingway, no less, once pushed me 
against the wall of a Key West patio 
because he seemed to think prizefighting 
was his exclusive literary hunting ground, 
nd I had no right to trespass. I think 
he felt the same way about war and the 
sea and love. Over the years I've been 
pushed against a few walls by novelists 

hing in anywhere from feather- 
weights to out-of-condition heavyweights. 
1 don't know why, but poets and biogra- 
phers seem to be a more peaceful lot. 
On the screen The Floyd Patterson 
Story was rising to a glorious dimax with 
Floyd's vindication and revenge: The 
Swede stretched for a count that could 
have gone on for 10 minutes instead 
of 10 seconds. 

“Floyd is the most underrated cham- 
pion in history,” Cus continued his non- 
stop commentary. “The press is always 
criticizing us for fighting bums. He 
fought four number one contenders and 
two more in the first five. Remember 
Brian London was number four. Radc- 
macher may have been an amateur 
technically but he was a se: 
weight who could hit as 
a the division.” I have always listened to 
Cus with a kind of exasperated awe. Ora- 
torically, he could hold five Senators and 
Jerry Giesler at bay. Is he the greatest 
con man in the boxing business since 
Doc Kearns or the saint who slew single- 


n. 


140 handed the underworld dragons that 


flourished under the Norris regime? They 
say Floyd doesn't speak to him anymore, 
refusing to listen when Cus wanted no 
part of Liston, as he had successfully run 
around Machen, Folley and any other 
threats to the carefully concocted record. 
It was probably necessary for Patterson, 
the wounded introspective, to cut off 
D'Amato's water, just as every son must 
finally strike at and turn [rom his father 
1 the adolescent fight for independence. 
But facts are facts. Cus’ peculiar match- 
making, Rademacher, London, Harris, 
McNeeley, may have helped dig the box- 
ing game a little lower into the bog 
where it has been seuling since the re- 
tirement of Marciano, But his business 
acumen on Floyd's behalf — three fourths 
of a million in 1959, a million in 1960, 
another mil in 1961, and that whopping 


$1,700,000 for the Liston thing, plus the 
earlier paynights that Cus accounts for 
more honorably than is the custom in 
the countinghouses behind the blood 
pits—may entitle Cus to 2 statue, a 


noble Greek pose would be appropriate, 
in Floyd's Scarsdale residence. In his 
million-dollar obscurity, he doesn’t have 
to talk to Cus, only bow in oriental re- 
spect as the sun rises and falls away. 
Of the more eminent combos in the 
history of the heavyweights, Dempsey- 
Kearns, Louis Jacobs, Marciano-Al Weill, 
and that grand old pair of vaudevillis 


scene again as spry octogenarians, surely 
the strangest pair are Patterson and 
D'Amato: Cus who can't stop talking 
and Floyd who can barely start A 
crowded, poverty-ridden home іп the 
Bedford-Stuyvesant section of Brooklyn 
drove the moody ex-champion into the 
streets as а baby-faced truant in baggy 
pants and cast-off shoes. Released from 
Wiltwyck, where his sensitive nature т 
sponded to kindness and companionship, 
he found himself with his fists under 
Cus’ tender tutelage. He was a recluse 
who liked dark places, cellars and dark 
comers where he could search his 
troubled, frightened soul. In 1952 he 
became one of the most gifted of Olym- 
pic champions, at 167 pounds, and had 
his first taste of acceptance. He was the 
youngest man ever to win the heavy- 
weight championship and the only one, 
including Corbeu, Jeffries and Dempsey, 
ever to regain it. Yet the tormented 
slum-child who had slept three in а bed 
stamped his adult personality, perhaps 
even permanently warped i 
When he was knocked rubber-legged 
and sloe-eyed by Johansson and right- 
crossed out of his title in three rounds, 
he had saved face by rising to punish- 
ment times (shades of old Joe 
Grim), but the two thirds of a mill 
dollars and a demonstration of coura 
in the old tradition were no balm for 
a sense of having fallen from grace. He 
crept back into his home and drew the 


seve 


shades and hid as if he had stolen the 
purse and, as is commonly believed, 
shamefully splashed & la Sharkey, In his 
preparation for the Liston fight he said 
strange things and set up a pattern of 
behavior defeatist and self-indulgent. He 
had two cars ready, one headed for the 
hotel in the event of victory, another to- 
ward New York, a getaway car ready to 
run like a thief's in the night. A false 
mustache and beard would help to hide 
him from the unhappy eventuality. In a 
press interview shortly before the fight, 
Patterson sermonized that if Liston won, 
he hoped the public would accept him 
and give him the opportunity he de- 
served, These are commendable words 
for a social worker, but the hard truth 
is that Patterson should have been pre- 
paring himself to go in and knock 
Liston's brains out, not concern himself 
on the eve of the fight of his life with 
his opponent's regeneration. For the 
second Johansson fight, Floyd had said 
he had to “work on his viciousness.” 
Telltale phrase. Viciousness is not even 
a valuable asset in the prize ring. Louis 
and Marciano were not vicious men. 
"They did not have to think in those 
terms. "They were superbly trained, in- 
tense competitors. They competed until 
they had asserted domination. It may 
not be sufficiently understood that the 
prizefighter is probably the most intel 
gent and sensitive of all professional ath- 
s they approach their lonely, 
naked night, out there alone in front 
of scores of thousands and now through 
closed-circuit TV, four or five mi n, 
they think positively. At least the win- 
ners. Patterson thinks too much, about 
too many things; he thinks not well but 
deep. His mind and heart are divided. 
He is a jockstrap Hamlet. Against the 
Rademachers, Harrises, Londons, Mc 
Neeleys he could prevail. But against 
a ballbreaker like Liston, who comes not 
to think or regenerate but to knock you 
dead, Patterson is a sensitive child in 
the hands of a brutal [ather. 

When I returned to the pressroom, 
feeling the mounting tension in the click 
of the typewriters, the increased conver- 
sational hum, the alcoholic buildup of 
the freeloaders, 1 took a deep drink and 
a deep breath and went to the bulletin 
board where all the writers, 500 of them 
from every part of the U.S., from Eng- 
land, from France and Holland and 
South America, were being asked to post 
their predictions. Fascinating guesswork. 
D'Amato's monolog on Floyd — “Look at 
his record, actually greater than Dempsey, 
Louis, Marciano" —had virtually brain- 
washed me. "Liston — KO — 5" I added 
my bit to the board. If the second-raters, 
among which I number Johansson, could 
bounce Floyd down when they hit him 
on the jaw, how could The Bear fail? 

"The pressroom tension on the day of 
the fight mounts an emotional ther- 


‘SEAGRAN DISTILLERS COMPANY, НУС. 90 PROOF. DISTILLED DRY GIN. OISTILLED FROM AMERICAN GRAIN. 


Seagram has a gift for making martinis dryer 


The explanation is simple. 
On the way from the still to the bottle, something 
very drying happens to the gin. It’s a costly extra step 
in which Nature strips away unwanted sweetness 
and perfumery. 
The result? A gin that is utterly, completely, profoundly dry. 
See? Nature even verifies it with a sunny signature — 
the amber glintin Seagram's Gin, It's a very cheerful luster, 
One that belongs in the most cheerful holiday martinis. 


PLAYBOY 


142 


чт 


ae 


"It's not that I didn’t believe in Santa Claus — it's just 
that you've shattered my image somehow . ..” 


d hysteria. 1 have never 
seen sportswriters so personally involved, 
so much like us poor semi-profe 
novelists, as they were for thi 
talk to people 1 am fond of 
too rarely, Red Smith, Frank 
Jesse Abramson, Gene Ward, Al Abrams 
from Pittsburgh, 20 more. "Who do you 
like? What do you feel? I see Liston big, 
гата Charles wanders in, like Patterson 
never having quite believed himself to 
be the champion, and most of the room 
seems unaware of him. Only a few, like 
thorough Jesse Abramson, pauses to 
terview him. It is à compressed, hi, 
pressure world. and yet a world of 
ре, a world that stands still and bal- 
nees on a single point — The Fight. 
Far to the South, another Ne; is 
fighting his way into the State Univer 
with the help of the U.S. Marshals and 
the Federal Army, but if any of the 400 
people here should ask you what you 
think his chance: ‚ obviously they are 
not thinking of Meredith but of Р: 
son. Anyone who asks you how you th 
it will turn out is not inqui about 
the negotiations to free the Cuban pri 
опет» or to solve the problem of divided 
Berlin. Only The Fight is real in this 
room. 1 find myself picking up countless 
page worlds 
cracking and steaming, turning instinc- 
tively to the sports section. A sympa- 
thetic journalist wanted to interview me 


ional 


"The fever of the fight was on me. 

When Patterson's friend, Mickey Ala 
singing The Star Span 
with Floyd at attention with hi 
patriotically like the good little graduate 
of Wiltwyck, Liston in his white robe 
lool 


and cow 


and working his massive shoulders si 
ously inside his robe, without ever taking 
his dark angry eyes off Patterson. You 
will have to take this on trust, but my 


note at that moment reads: “Patterson 
may be the first fighter ever beaten by 
The Star Spangled Banner." 1 don't 
think Patterson was scared in the ord 
nary sense of the word. But the diseui 


and the defeatcar pointed cast into the 
lonely night were ready. The fi 
made was like a dying m 
his eyes for 


1 few extra mo 
He had thought too long, and in his 
quiet, divided panic he came to Liston 
like an amateur, unable to suspend his 
imagination or control it. This deprived 
һ of speed of hand and foot and plan. 
He bore in to meet his destruction. In 
the first 30 seconds he was beaten. He 
jabbed once, | Му forward 
once with t ich" he could 
never correct, missed three or 
four oppo: 


Liston 
unities, and then landed with 
one of those awful lefts that thudded 


against Patterson's temple. We were close 
enough to see the fight go out of Patter- 
son's cyes. In the clinches Liston hurt 
the boy-ch even on (h ms. 
Two to the kidneys in 
another clinch hurt Patterson more than 
he would remember. He clutched for the 
ropes and Liston knew he had him and 
it was left-right uppercut (well executed) 
and then left hook to the side of Pauer- 
son's already sagging face. “Then I hit 
hi ‘ood left hook," Liston was to say 
later in the sweltering dressing room. It 
was over before some of the celebrities 
were in their seats or the bleacher gods 
had adjusted their field gl 


jostling, sardined press 
photographers were kept waiting for 40 
minutes, I stood an arm's length from 


the crestfallen loser and could barely 
hear his whispered answers. At this 
moment racists were growing into an 
ugly mob on the campus of Ole Miss 


d the Federal Government was ас 
tempting to arrest the Governor in the 
most violent case of willful disregard of 
Federal authority since the Civil War. 
But here in this steaming, oppressive 
room the vict ed} 
delinquent. who. despite fame and 
almost outlandish and barely deserved 
fortune, had once agai position 
and his pride. The questions about the 
fight w 
oll fast enough, he whispered. Liston 
speed surprised him, He was hurt only 
n his spirit, Were Liston s punches slow? 
Then he threw a lot of slow punches,” 
Patterson stid, unable to look at hi 
inquisitors. The rematch? He would li 
it as soon as possible. “Where 
hold it — in a telephone booth?" 
sportswriter muttered. “Floyd. a 
you going back into seclusion again 
There was a painful silence. Then Floyd 
lowered his head and nodded. 1 think 
even seasoned boxing writers were 
little embarrassed Гог this neurotic Hora- 
tio Alger whose childhood traumas had 
robbed him of the realization of just how 
lucky he was. Back into the cellar he 
would crawl, back into the shadows, back 
into the comforting dark, to i 
bat and drcad di 
his children and his mother would know 
luxuries allowed only to the upper one 
half of one percent. But the fact that he 
never has been accepted as a champion 
1 will yo down as a paper tiger will 
haunt him through the mismatch 
match and perhaps, poor, sick, foolish, 
ious man, to the end of his days. 
Next day's press conference produced 


з was 


* routine. He had not gotten 


the New Liston — the one we may live 
with for a long time—that is, if the 
fight game survives its mounting scan- 


dals. Miraculously overnight the scowl 
g. growling, glaring, grunting Liston 
had become a man of wit 


with the patience of Job and the diplo- 
ic touch of Adlai Stevenson. 

It was the most bizarre postfight cor 
ference I ever attended, The promoters 
and the half-forgotten caterer-"manager" 
Nilon drifted into an open and prolonged 
argument about money matters, the sort 
of thing Uncle Mike Jacobs would have 
settled in his hotel bathroom, and not 
with the world press enjoying Iront row 
seats for the washing of dirty linen. 
Bluceyed, tax hung Ingemar Johansson 
peered in from the entrance but when 
urged by а publicity staff member to 
come forward and be photographed con- 
gratulating the new champion and per- 
haps challenge him publicly. Ingo pulled 
away like a frightened deer and said in 
his soft Swedish-English, "No, no, I stay 
here, | no go in." He was rather more 
resolute about this than he was about 
getting up in the sixth round of the third 
Patterson fight in Miami. 1 wasn’t sure 
whom he w Liston or the 
Revenue men. 

Sonny Liston found his voice. 
1 his humor, even if his pu 
tied up by the Internal Re 
with the total receipts of th 
promoters, it seemed. had failed to file 
à corporate income tax for 1961. And 
there was the question of spreadi 


smile 
` was 


fight. The 


terson's bonanza over 18 years. W: 
legit or a tax dodge? There are even 


rumors that the Government is interested 
to know if Sonny is still going steady 
with Barney B r and his old p 
Despite these gathering clouds that 
may one day wash the fight racket down 
the d . Liston presided with thi m 
deur of Emperor Jones. Asked if he had 
been surprised that the fight ended so 
quickly, Liston’s d comedy was 
top drawer: "No. I was surprised it 
lasted as long as i Did Patterson 
show any punching power? "The punch 
he threw that 1 blocked seemed to have 
some power behind it if it had landed." 
Finally came the serious questions — 
the ones that will affect Liston's future, 
if not the future of the entire fight game 
now under closer scrutiny than ever 
before. What kind of champion did 
Sonny intend to be? If die public would 
accept him, he began. continuing the 
thought that had seemed (o disturb 
Patterson before the fight, he would 
prove that he was really — "Ке" he 
said. “Re— Jack [turning to Nilon). 
you finish it for me.” 
So that is the question and the shadow 
over the heavyweight cham- 
piouship, Here is Liston, on the lam 
from Ark s to St. Louis to Philadel- 
and now set to move once more 
tuse of new trouble (or harassment?) 
from the law, Liston who could be to 
the Sixties what Louis was to the Thir- 
and Forties and Marciano to the 
Is he really re —? He doesn't 
ed the mob, as did Carnera, to topple 


his opponents for him. He can do that 143 


PLAYBOY 


144 


is own pile-driving left hook, his 
right uppercut and his fearful strength 
in the clinches. But whose side is he on? 
Nilon is his “adviser.” George Katz gets 
10 percent for a brief period of Iront- 
ing. What happened to the origi 
sharcholders? Palermo? Frankie Carbo, 
temporarily detained at Alcauaz? The 
working press seem divided between the 
he - paid - his- debt - so- give "іт a-chance 
school and the cynics who believe once 
you run with the John Vitales, the 
fermos and Carbos of this corrupt world, 
never get no 
many Boy Scout and church luncheons 
you attend. 
The Patter 
аке рас 
seem more 


July sparkl 


ter how 


ematch will have to 
though the next one will 
sputtering. Fourth of 
an à moon shot. After 
that perhaps Johansson will tike three 
steps from his corner and [all dows 
c y. despite the poem he pressed 
into my hands signed “the next. cham- 
piou of the world.” will have to grow 
up and wait for Liston to grow old. 
Sonny Liston is a conqueror with no 
new worlds iu view. Only the ghost of 
Louis past or a reconditioned Marciano 
could stand up to him. 
Meanwhile, the State of New York, in 
mood to bur the besieged sport, has 
been wondering out loud whether Sonny 
Liston is genuinely free of the dark 
iations that have clouded his career. 
new champion needs no d 
and false mustache to hide false pride. 
But if boxing is to survive, as I continue 
to hope, Sonny will have to face the one 
question he stumbled over at his victory 
press conference. Is Sonny Liston really 
re ? 


son 


se be 


Champagne Plus 


(continued. from pa 


59) 


nt to serve food appro- 
priate to that electric that always 
seems to fill a room after the soft pop- 
ping of the cork — iced Beluga cavi 
rich pûtê de fois gras. and paper-thin 
slices of prosciutto ham wrapped around 
lengths of Christmas melon, You c 


party, you'll w 


depend on champagne, when it’s poured, 
to upstage not only all other drinking 
but the dining as well. Only а swallow 
js necessary to make everyone feel like 
echoing Dom Perignon's exultant excla- 
mation that he was “drinking stars.” 
All recipes are for one drin 


PLAYBOY'S CHAMPAGNE OLD FASHIONED 


Brat champ: 
nd Marnier 
orbidden Fruit liqueur 

mon 

Dash orange bitters 

Into a frosted old fashioned glass, pour 
bitters and liqueurs. Fill glass with ice- 
cold champagne, stir very gently and 
launch with lemon slice, 


CORDIAL MEDOC CUP 


1 oz. cordial medoc 

1⁄4 oz. cognac 

1 oz. lemon juice 

14 teaspoon sugar 

Iced. champagne 
nge 

cordial medoc, cog 


juice 
into 
pieces of cracked ice. Fill with cham- 
pagne. Place orange slice on top. 


“But, darling, it's the night before Christmas!” 


FRENCH 75 


114 ozs, cognac 

1 oz. lemon juice 

| teaspoon sugar 

Iced champagne 

Shake cognac, lemon juice and sugar 
with cracked ice. Strain into highball 
glass filled with lame p acked 
Fill to rim with champagne. For 
collins fans, gin may be substituted lor 
cognac. 


ce of c 


CHAMPAGNE. MANHATTAN 


1 oz. whiskey 

1⁄4 ол. sweet vermouth 

Dash bitters 

Iced. champagne 

Brandied cherry 

Stir the whiskey, vermouth and bitters 
in a cocktail shaker with ice. Strain into a 
led champagne glass. Add cherry. 
glass with champagne 


lass. 


MELBA COCKTAIL 


М, oz. Himbeergeist ( 
Iced. champagne 
Frozen raspberries thawed 
Raspberry sherbet, hard frozen 
Pour Himbeergeist and champagne 

into pre-chilled champagne glass. Drop 

a raspberry into the glass. With a fruit 

baller, scoop out a single small ball of 

the sherbet. Float it on top of champagne. 


pberry brandy) 


SPARKLIN 


: GALLIANO 


% oz. Liquéve galliano 

1% teaspoon lemon juice 

Iced champagne 

Cucumber rind 

Pour liquóre galliano and lemon juice 
into pre-chilled champagne. glass. Stir. 
Cut rind lengthwise. Each 
piece should be about 11⁄ in. long and 
1⁄4 im. wide. Drop cucumber rind 
glass. Fill with champagne. 


cucumber 


CHAMPAGNE NOYAUX 


14 or. crème de noyaux 

Jordan almonds 

1 teaspoon lime juice 

Iced. champagne 

1 slice lime 

Place almonds, for as 
you think you'll mak a saucepan 
with cold water. Bring to a boil. Dr 
Slip off almond skins. Place almonds 
a pan in a moderate oven pre-heated at 
370°. Toast for about 15 minutes or until 
almonds are light brown. Avoid burning. 
Pour crême de noyaux. and lime juice 
into prechilled champagne glass. St 

dd a toasted "0nd. 1 i 
champ lice on top. 
The pleasantly champagned espres- 
ions ol approval from those guests who 
have come to grapes with the subject at 
hand should be enough to assure you 
that the blends justify the means. 


ny drinks as 


а Гаҳ м 


continuing the series on how to succeed with women without really trying 


satire By SHEPHERD MEAD 


“The first wi 


c must be practicable . 


+ «and serviceable.” 


HOW TO SELECT YOUR FIRST WIFE 


IF YOU ARE STILL WITH us we will assume you have де 
cided to get married. Your problem, then, will be to 
select your first wife, and to marry her quickly, since 
she will not have the qualities that make lor a su 
able fiancé 

Belore w 


list the qualities to look for, we had 


best answer another frequent question: 


SHALL | MARRY BENEATH MYSELF? 


We must all face this question squarely 
Try to look at yourself objectively. Make an hor 
est but accurate estimate of your merits, charms and 


abilities. Be sure to tally up your mental qualities, 

the keen mind that is common to so many males. 
Add to this sum your basic, simple maleness, which 

is so fine. You will probably be faced with this fact, 


as so many men are: You must marry beneath your- 


self. There is no other direction in which to marry. 
The problem usually becomes one of degree. How 
far beneath you should you marry, and in wh 


t 


ction? 
This leads us to the qualities to look for in the 
first wife. 


d 


A FIRM, HEALTHY BODY 


The first wile, as opposed to the fiancée, must be 
p cable and serviceable. She is neither a toy, an 
ornament, nor a playmate. She will be your wile 
during the early, hard years before you can айога a 
staff of servants. She will serve as mother, cook, house- 
This 
if she is nimble, six or seven hours of 


maid, chauffeur, nurse and. charwoman. will 


allow her. 
sleep a night, ample for a sturdy girl. 

It is best, before deciding definitely, to test for 
firmness. Few of us would consider buying a grape 
fruit without squeezing it — yet how ma ke the 


ny m 


far more important choice of a close companion in a 
sloppy, hit-or-miss fashion? 

Using the thumb and forefi xen gentle pres 
sure along certain key muscles. A girl with good mus- 
cular tone will wear well and last lor ye: 
neglected. occa: 
will usually mai а cheerlul disposi 
long hours and hard work. 


"Davie, you pinched me!" 

"Oh, sorry, Phoebe. Must have slipped." 

“Well, stop!” 

“Have you ever thought of + 
exercise? 


a bit more 


ENDURANCE 


"Though the fiancée, as we have seen, needs occa 
sional bursts of strength, the first wife must have 
endurance, must be good over the long haul. 


There is no known method of testing this 


ccu- 


rately, no way of telling by the cut of her 
speak, how she will sail on a Ic 
However, 


b, so to 
beat to windward. 
during times ol 


carelul observatio 


a marathon series of cocktail parties 


tion. 


during Christmas week, will give some indic 
Observe not the sparkle of personality nor the tinkle 
of surrounding laughter, but signs of physical deteri 
ion, sagging of the diaphragm and abnormal 
clinging to or leaning upon doorjambs or male 


DOGLIKE DEVO" 


ох 


g qualit 
no place in the first wile, who will be 
time for unproductive merriment. 
You will be looking for a girl who is carnest, cor 
scientious, and possessed of (concluded on page 157) 


s of the perlect fiancée have 


lowed little 


145 


PLAYBOY 


146 


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KERSH 
(continued from page 116) 


You won't get anything out of him. 


“Oh well, the actual fight is the least 
of it. It's the way the stone is cut and 
set that counts,” I told him. 

“This is going to be a bum fight.” 

Indeed, a vague dread that this might 
prove to be so seemed to be haunt 
ing the Sheraton-Chicago Hotel, where 
Headquarters was buried in the base- 
ment. Cus D'Amato had flown in, smi 
ing like a pumpkin-ghost under his 
Augustan haircut. 
“How do you feel about things in 
general?” I asked him 

“There are no things in general at 
the moment. There is one thing in par- 
ticular only.” 

“The fight of course.” 

"Of course.” 


A cert 
on the whole, no. 
“You look a little tired, Mr. D'Amato.” 
“I am not in the least tired. H 1 were 
«+. I have devoted my life to this. It is 
my life. 
“Patterson must win?’ 
“I hope so. I believe so. Ye 
“IE by some chance — 
“Excuse me. As a certain general 
said, there is no alternative to victory. 
1 cannot think in any other term: 
refuse to think in any other ter 
“Is it true that you have repeatedly 
begged Patterson not to m 
You аге a writer. Do you n 
we everything you read?" 
I've been watching Liston. A man 
would be wel 
that left hand, 
“So. A lvised to keep 
of a steamroller. And so а man 
is not run over by a steamroller.” 
Prognoscs were con i 
experts, now, curiously s 


anxiety is natural. But 


bel 


the 
Iling of vir- 


tue. Tommy Loughran felt that for the 
stke of unborn generation 


should be utterly obliterated; he si 
his professional reputation that Patter- 
son would knock him cold in 60 
of the first round. Gunboat S 
Liston shouldn't be 
mile of any respectable prize ring, and 
predicted an overwhelming victory for 
Paterson. Jack Dempsey, remembering 
the time he beat Willard, felt that by the 
sume token Patterson should beat Liston. 
Gunboat Smith said the same about the 
time Ле beat Willard. Jim Braddock 
prophesied a victory on points for Pat- 
terson in 15 rounds, vaguely hinting that 
this is how he might have beaten Willard 
if they had met. Rocky Marciano said 

; and although 
lard he had cut down 
men in his time. And Jess 


llowed within a 


he didn't meet Wil 
even bi, 


Willard h 
give Liston 
wouldn't they kindly leave him out of 
The men of hindsight — the only really 
wise ones — saved their diagnoses for the 
post-mortem and their emotions for the 
epitaph, making ready to tell you, later 
Е and 
when. Ancient Doc Kearns, all passion 
prudently spent and every bit of it 
booked and accounted for, kept as still 
as a lizard on a stone; only those who 
knew him knew that if he chose he 
might yet dart out a deadly tongue and 
snap up an unsuspecting flyweight. His 
eyes aren't what they used to be; but 
oh, how that man can listen! He knows 
that all is rumor, hearsay, flimflam and 
conjecture. And now it had come to his 
that Las Vegas money was on the 
contender and that Frank Sinatra him- 
self had bet a fortune on Liston. 
"Don't let it fool you,” said he. "Rumor 
weapon here, the as оп Wall 


self 


id Patterson ought to 
thorough hiding — and 


on, what would have happened 


it was the same in Jeffries day 
the same when Johnson stopped Bury 
and when Willard stopped Johnson, a 
when Dempsey stopped Willard, 


Tunney . . 
Doc was getting into the million-dollar 
gates, now. He shut np. 


Ancillary rights—I know all about 
ancillary rights” Harold Conrad, the 
promoter's press agent, w 1g into 
a telephone hooked over his left shoulder. 
“Listen T 

Meanwhile, Ben Bentley, Conrad's as 
sistant, white face crumpled with loath- 
ing and mouth twisted and tortured with 
ness and disgust, spoke in a hearty, 
happy, rich, mellifluous voice into 
other telephone: "Why, sure, sure! Hell, 
Jack, it's been a long, long time! Good to 
He spits out an 
snarling, purrs, 
ck 600 reporters 
into three rows; but for you 

"Sit down, sit down," said Conr 
beckoning to nd displacing а py 
mid of papers. "How's it coming? 
the sandman of this promoters’ dream of 
a prizefight. Never was such money in- 
volved. He anticipated $5,000,000 gross. 
In 320 theaters, precisely 978,234 people 
were to pity six dollars apicce to see the 
fight televised. Another $1,000,000 was 
expected Irom other ancillari 
Reiner-Smith Enterprises had gu 


fighters and promoters a minimal 
$2,000,000. The event w being pro- 


jected by Telstar. "A Moon Shot!” cried 
Mr. Smith. “After the purses are an- 
nounced, every young athlete in the 
world will dream of becoming a fighter!” 

"How do you find it?" I asked Conrad. 

"Good," said Conrad. "lt has got to 
be good. It had better be good.” He 
pointed with a thumb to a locked door 
behind him, which sealed à tiny room 
with a pigeonhole through which 


i 


уй». 


пате... 


“On the other hand, people always remember my 


147 


PLAYBOY 


148 


perpetually passed. waving money, and 
voices sounded crying for seats at any 
price up to $100. 
“You're a Patterson man, of cou 
"Of course [ am. How does Liston 
look: 


id, "You might just as well 
bbas!” What about 


Con 
shout ‘Give us B; 
lunch?” 


t to see a man on Rush Street. 
xe got to go and see Jack Nilon 
in Philadelphi 

“Now what the hell for?” 

“Just to 

"There's nothing to see. ] 
simply doesn’t exist. Nobody can make 
anything of that cl 
“He tried to publicize himself once. It 
couldn't be done. The publi m 
something with an image.” 

А hero?” 

‘An idol. Hero worship comes later,” 
said this peddler of dreams. “I wish you 
luck.” 

In point of fact, I was following the 
grapevine. At a place on Rush Street 
there is to be found a man, call him 
Anonimo, who knows all about Liston. 
Anonimo has grown gray in the insecure 
ad irresponsible business of hustling. 
He has been a bootlegger's errand-boy, a 
salesman of potato-peclers, 
r's aide-de-camp, a pilot bird for 
floating crap-games, and whatnot. But 
he likes to think big and large figures 
c sweet in his mournful little mouth. 
'A 2,090,000-buck guarantee ain't bad,” 
he said, judiciously, as we sat in a 
booth that smelled of burnt fat close by 
the machine you put a quarter into for a 
can of hot tomato soup. “But 1 know it 
for a fact, there's at least $20,000,000 
being bet on this fight, at the latest esti- 
mate, Now look; nobody gambles for fun 
iymore. When the boys lay it dow 


the millions, they play to win, not for 
kicks." 
“Mea 
win? 
“Not necessarily, because gambling 
ain't just on a win or a lose. There's 
rounds, there's points. And you've got to 
remember the odds. If there's 20 Gs on 
Liston, there’s 20-plus on Patterson. But 
the smart money's on 
will most likely win. But whichever way 
the cat jumps, Sonny's the sucker. He 
stands to get 12% ent of the gross. 
They say they'll gross $5,000,000. His 
num guarantee is 200 Well, OK, 
ive Sonny 5700.000. Where does 
he stand? He's into Jack Nilon for a 150 
Gs, to begin with. Over and above that, 
1 hear he owes Blinky atter of 30—40. 
"There's your 400 Gs cut in half, to begin 
with, But Unde Sam don’t take that 
mo consideration. No, the taxes 
come off the top, and they add up to, sity 
350 of that 400 Cs. Off the remai 
50 Gs, cut various incidentals. So Sonny's 
got 30 Gs. Debts outstanding? And I 
mean the sort of debts it doesnt do you 
bit of good to go bankrupt for. Call it 
200 Gs — $200,000! And a champ has got 
to live it up a bit — put up a background 
— and that comes h man, high! So 
they promote him, but 
into the millions, like Joe Louis. But the 
more he cams the less he's got. The pro- 
moters get their piec 
like Sonny, he's the sucker. 
“АП this I could have figured for my- 
self,” I said. "I understand you know 
something about Liston personally." 
“There was some id, ng one 
of his hands. That's why he all of a 
sudden got to be so careful of them. 
"Thats why there's a 24-hour double 
d on him. It was a strictly business- 
man’s idea, to secure an investment, like 
they say. There's two sides to every deal. 
Just bust one of his hi bit. Bust or 


g Liston has simply got to 


“Every time I go out with the boys [от a few drinks my 
wife accuses me of working late at the office." 


no bust. with 55,000,000 in the pot he's 
got to fight. That scheme came out of 
Vegas. But I think they dropped it. I 
never knew Sonny personall 
it wrong. My cousin Lou was 
Sonny, at Jefferson City. Lou 
now. I'll give you an address where you 
can find him. I'll write you a note..." 

Thus, having got Nilow's unlisted 
number out of somebody's little. black. 
notebook, I went to Philadelp 
met that strange, elfin chai 
tral ground, in the ba the airport. 
He did give an interview to a magazine 
writer once before, but it came out like 
a kind of crochetwork. Such pattern as 
there was consisted in formless holes con- 
nected by strained threads. 
k Nilon is а multimi 
terer. How did he become one? He sim- 
ply took two ham sandwiches, 
asa fundamental principle ч 
ng grains of wheat on the 
chessboard, parlayed them 
into billions of ham sandwiches. How 
did he distribute? Skip a square. How did 
he push sales, overcome competition, get 
concessions? Skip a square. Hence the 
lacunae, The Nilons make a closed cor- 
poration of the utmost respectability, 
worth some $10,000,000 a усаг. 

His eyes, swollen with fatigue, looked 
like halfopen walnuts. He would have 
been none the worse for a shave. The 
washed-out green cardigan he had been 
wearing in the ring at Aurora still hung 
on his fleshless shoulders as on a wire 
hanger. He wondered why | had come 
all that way to see him. 

I said, "I want you to tell me how I 
can make some money out of this figh 
just like th 

"Bet on Listo: 

“What round? 
he sixth. 

“I should have guessed the fourth, 
said. 

‘Sixth, I d aid Jack Nilon, 

“Tell me—is there really a plot 
nst Liston? 

He blinked. “A plot? You mean to 
hurt him? Liston — I watch every mouth- 
ful that boy eats. Do you know, I ex- 
amine and prepare every steak with my 
own hands — cook it! J watch the water 
he drinks, 1 buy the purest spring water 
obtainable, You saw him drinking a cup 
of tea? 1 supervise every tea bag that 
goes into soak. Some people would ovcr- 
look the matter of ice, and fill the freezer 
ways with tap water. I thought of that, 
too. Sonny loves icc. 1 personally fill 
those trays with spring water, out of 


jonaire ca- 


ар: 


scaled bottles." 


these are very re- 


"I'm a very particular man. 

“You aren't worried in case something 
might happen to Listoi 

Its a matter of principle. When it 
comes to what I give somebody to cat 


and drink, I can't be too careful. Fastid- 
ious. Besides, I've got to win this fight.” 
“You don't feel any anxiety?" I asked. 
Jot on the whole, no. 
When you ‘got to’ — is it money 
invested that concerns you? 
No. I've put a lot of money into 
Liston. But I've dedicated myself. It's my 
id ambition to have a heavyw 
champion. Just that.” 
“No wonder you look a little tir 
Nilon." 
“I'm not tired." 


M 


lutely 

“Otherwi; 

“There can't be any otherwise,” 

“Is it wue Cus D'Amato never wanted 
Patterson to meet Li 

“Absolutely. They've been avoiding 
this for years.” 

“What do you think about what they 
say concerning Liston's ster connec- 
tions? 
Nobody ever said a 
about it. What gangster connections? 1 
haven't seen any gangsters around. I 
don't think I'd know one if I saw him 
Would you? 1 would 

Т saw some on TV once," 

"I don't have a lot of time for that. 
I must ask the kids about it. Sonny is 
а good, clean boy. You mustn't believe 
thing you read in the papers. 

^I put you down as a dedicated man, 
then.” 

“Right.” 

“A businessman with а passion for a 
good clean game." 

“Righ 

So, eventually, I made my way to Lou 
Anonimo's address on the South Side of 
Philadelphia. and found a small, dapper 
man in а stingy-brim hat, who said that 
any friend of Joe's was a friend of hi 
Chatty, articulate, discreetly gay, a 
you could introduce 
companied me to a chophouse. It was 
tue, he said, that he had been locked up 
tentiary about 
ccount of a misundersi 
Deeply shocked by the carelessness of 
some people who locked their cars but 
left the ventilation windows unfastened, 
Lou had pointed out to a friend how 
easy it was to slip your hand in, unlock 
the door and take out valuables in the 
backseat. He was only demonstrating. 
Frightened out of his wits by a rude 
policeman, he had тип away. Appre- 
hended, it was found that somebody else 
of the same name and with identical 
fingerprints had been caught doing the 
same thing several times in the past; as 
ult of which coincidence Lou 
Auonimo became a prisonmate of Sonny 
Liston, 

Liston's story?” said Lou. “He didn't 
have one. He'd already done a у d 
he was only about 17. He was 16 when 


ything to me 


1 said. 


1951 on 


they gave him four five-year terms to run 
concurrently, A matter of mugg 
St. Lou. Why, a kid of 16 gets caught 
mugging here in the East, they just beg 
him with tears in their сусу not to do 
ain and teach him electronics. elt 
City pen stinks. It was luxury to Liston, 
though. He enjoyed taking a bath. He 
even liked the grub, which is horrible.” 

“They tell me he was a bad prisoner.” 

“He was a model prisoner. They made 
him messenger runner. He'd never had it 
so good. He came from Pine Blull, Ar- 
He was one of 25 children. His 
old man was very much against sin and 
beat him with a strap every day of his 
life because he looked like he was think- 
ing evil thoughts. Sonny scared the hell 
out of me, once. He never much of a 
talkc as just standing look: 

ny at noth cular, and Sonny 
bellows at me, "What you lookin’ at?” 
I tell him, ‘Nothing.’ He says, "Well, you 
stop thinkin’ thoughts!’ He doesn't mean 
to shout. He's just got that kind of voice, 
like a alligator. He couldn't read or 
write. His family was what they call 
subminimal, 1 think. Mi 
for Worse Than Beasts; subminimal is 
a step lower down. It refers to their 
standard of livi +. My God, Sonny's 
in for a gay old time of it, if he gets to 
be champ! Over and above everything 
else — 24 brothers and sisters! Probably 
e or 10 more by now, if his Daddy is 
still around.” 

“Is it true Liston was backward? 1 
mean, retarded? 

“No. His brain was a 
I think. Only it was 


erage so-so, 
d of blocked up. 


Father Ste tried to teach him his 
ABCs, but it didn't take. So he taught 
him boxing. ‘That took. He got paroled 
in 1952. Father Stevens and Monroe 
rison and one other went sponsor 
him. Call the other one. Number 
ther Stevens 
arrison and 


for 


ison didn't kno 
Three had 
Harrison's good lady got sick, a 
sold his half to Nu 
500 bucks, Then Number Three went 
partners in Liston with John J. Vi 
What did Sonny know? From noth 
There's your kickoff. The St. Lou cops 


told Sonny if he didn't get out of town 


he'd be found in a drain. They meant it, 
too. Most of the marks he got are from 
the cops’ breakdown gangs, not from the 
ring. So Number Three sold Liston to 
Pep Barone, and Pep took him to Philly. 
The rest — your guess is as good as mine 
ТИ tell you one 0 nd I'm a man 
that uses his eyes: Liston's no hood. He's 
a baby, a big baby. And theyll treat 
him as such, the poor bastard. 

"What do you think of Patterson 

"He had better breaks than Sonny. 
But Patterson's the. kind. that. deserves 
breaks. He's a good boy, sensible. Sonny 
never had any breaks and never de- 
served any breaks, and never will get 
any breaks. But ] li him — don't ask 
me why. 

"Instinct?" I suggested. “Patterson 
wants to be born again. Liston wants 
to be born; period. 

Then there is the matter of "hunger" 
in a fighter. Little Euclid, the bookic, 
told me about it in Philadelphia. "Doc 


149 


PLAYBOY 


150 


“George always opens his presents the night before . . ." 


said Little Euclid, "likes to 
keep his fighters hungry. 

Little Euclid was amused when he said 
it. “By ‘hungry’ Doc didn't mean short 
on grub; what he meant was, worrying 
about the day after tomorrow, the steak 
alter next — anxious. Not overanxious, 
just anxious enough— hungry on the 
installment. plan, kind of. Oh, the Doc 
was a genius — but a genius! ‘They used 
to he could measure the miseries 
with a micrometer. And it paid off. It'll 
pi п Liston's case, too. He'll always 
bc just worried enough." 

“There's two sides to every angle," 
he continued. "If you don't see the 
other one, where's the angle? 1 mea 
look at Patterson's point of view. Liston 
had it rough all his life, he was pushed 
around ever since he can remember, but 
compared to Patterson he's carefree. 
Toss Liston a side of beef and he'll gnaw 
on it until he goes to sleep. Has Liston 
ever been humiliated? Not on your life! 
But Floyd —believe me, his humiliation 
has been something terrible lately. 1 
ask you, as a man of the world, how 
would you like it if you owned a cle 
apartment house, and so vou go 
the front entrance, and in the lobby 
а uniformed doorman on your own pay 
roll says, "Use the service entrance’? 

"E should be so disgusted I'd refuse 
to take the rent out of spite," I said. 
nd how would you like it if you 
had an estate with the millionaires in 
Scarsdale and your neighbor built a 
fence out of spite, and so you was put 
to the humiliation of building a fence 
twice as high, like Floyd had to do? 

"My feelings would be so outraged 
Га give away all my property and go on 
relief in prote 

Little Euclid went on 

"To be a property owner ain't all 
honey, believe me. Here some tenant 
gripes about a faucet, there somebody 
else leaks through the ceiling — its a 
responsibility, a terrible responsibility 
A guy figures a legitimate angle to raise 
rents 15 percent, so the tenants hold a 
mass meeting and they go to the housing 
uthoritics. You're working out in the 
camp, and all of a sudden some screw- 
ball calls about the drains —" 

“— Did this really happen to Pat- 
terson?” 

id 


Kearns,” 


I say it did? But it must be on 
mind: you can't just own property 
nd forget it — it ain't in human nature, 
it ain't civilized.” 
"Docs Patterson handle his own in- 
vestments 
“No, and that's just where the worry 
comes in," said Little Euclid, “be 


that's where the poor bastard lies awake 
ight worrying, "Who's handl 


all n g my 
property tonight, and how? Because, be- 
lieve me, for every angle you can figure, 
a handler can figure two. On top of it 
all, a guy has got to think about his 


public image, yet. He's got to do all 
sorts of things repulsive to the likes of 
you and me . . . like smiling, like being 
пісе, like shaking hands. It’s no joke, 
being respectable. And what's the result? 
What thanks do you get? They call 
you yellow. 


“Patterson isn't yellow," I said, "he's 
preoccupied.” 
Yes, that's where Cus D'Amato is off 


the beam. Doc Kearns would have han 
dled Floyd better. If the Doc had had 
that boy, we'd be three heavyweight 
champs ahead by now. Cus don't know 
the facts of life. Do you feed a cock 
before he fights? Do you give a horse 
oats before а ra h Believe me, to 
give a fighter a apartment house is а 
terrible mistake. Hold a second mort- 
gage, let him hope, let his heart go 
into his mouth when theres a knock 
on the door — that way he fights beuer. 
Liston is a hungry lion. Cus made a big 


1 said. "A poor 
man will fight to get rich, but not 
hall so hard as а rich man will fight 
to stay rich. 

"Men like Rocky Marciano don't grow 
on trees. And look at Tunney: He puts 
а few bucks in the bank and qu 
But cold! Is this a fighter’ 

“He should h ed on, 
until he g 
suggested, 
А fighter like that betrays his public 
age,” said Little Euclid. Relishing this 
phrase, he repeated it, “He betrays his 
public image.” 


І recall a somber afternoon a 
weeks carlier, when Patterson w 
ing his camp in New York Su 
making ready for Chicago — a martyred- 
looking young man, smiling as if he had 
weights hooked to the corner 
mouth, while the last lingering reporters 
ed for him to say someth 
Lam а man of principle,” he said. 
“Everything | do | base on principl 
Where is à man without his principles: 

“Are you fighting Liston as a matter 
of principle?” I asked. 


few 


fighter. hting Liston because I'm 
Champiot m- 
pionship on principle. Yes, it is a matter 
of principle, too. Like that fence 1 put 
up in Rockland County. My neighbor 
wanted to segregate me, so he put up 
a fence between his property and mine. 
On principle, 1 put up a higher fenc 
than his, right against it. It cost a lot 
of money. 1 didn’t care what it cost. 
It was a matter of principle. 
That's why you had words with Mr. 
asked Harold Conrad, slyly 


and 1 must defend my cha 


Fugazy 
hortatory. 

Yes, in Florida. I threw up the fight, 
1 threw up everything. Fugazy arranged 
to separate the races. ‘No, on principle,’ 


I said; and | packed up, and | came 
home and 1 don't want anything more 
to do with Fugazy!" 

An AP man asked. "Jimmy Cannon 
used to like you. Now he doesn't seem to 
like you anymore. In fact he just about 
said you were the worst fighter in the 
world. How come?" 

“L don't know how come!” cried Pat- 
terson, in something like anguish, "I 

t read his piece. I don't want to 
се. 1 won't read i 

Is it true that President Kennedy said 
you ought to fight Liston 

"I don't feel 1 discussing any talks 
I might have had with the President 
at this moment." 


1 asked. 

“I just don't feel 1 it,” said Pat- 
terson. "And as for principle — I've got 
to do what I think is right, haven't 17 
If you go on turning the other cheek 
you never progress, do you?" 

"Wasn't it Khrushchev who said tl 
somebody asked. 

Patterson didn't seem to he 
АР man asked, "Is it true that y 
if you lost this fight youd never give 
another nickel to the Church?’ 

“Whoever said that PH sue for defa- 
mation!" cried Patterson. “I've given 
thousands. I'll give morc. On principle, 
ГИ sue." 

“I don't believe the stories about you 
ving a glass chin." said the AP n 
“How cin Floyd have a glass chin? 
Conrad demanded. "Haven't you seen 
the films of his fights? Whenever he's 
been hit on the chin, hasn't he practi- 
cally always got up ag; 

You're not actually afraid of Liston, 
are you?" I asked. 

Patterson said, "No. I ат not. But 
even if I were, I'd still fight him on 
principle. You wait. Let everybody wait. 
I've got it worked ош. PY anticipate 
every move he plans to make. Whatever 
Liston does, ГЇЇ do the same опе tenth 
of a second sooner!” 

“You plan a knockout, a qu 
out?’ 

“Yes, 1 do. This fight will not go the 
distance. I have my plans. 

“For after the fight? 

“After the fight 1 am going to buy 
another apartment house. I have all the 
papers drawn up — insurance — every. 
th His eyes were fixed on a spot 
the middle distance. A little man dressed 
in black is on the w; 

“A priest!” whispered the AP man, 
with a kind of awe. 

And even at this stage it was apparent 
that to the soul-searching Patterson, this 
fight was something in the nature of a 
penance; and when it was paid, nothing 
would have been proved and nothing 
bought; and whatever the poor devil 
thought he had to atone for would al- 
ways rim his light, unbanished. 


No principle involved 


k knock- 


151 


PLAYBOY 


152 


SAHL ON PLAYBOY 


Hugh M. Hefner. So I walked over there 
and sat down, and I noticed he was wear- 
ing a black armband for Shou Business 
Ilustrated, but 1 didn't say anything to 
him about it, He was sucking on his 

ipe, kind of philosophically, and we sat 
there and talked sort of man-to-man. We 
talked the way guys talk, when they're 
together. You know. 

1 said: “Hey, what's happening?” 

And he said: “Hey, wha'd'ya say’ 

Then we got into a serious discussion 
about the search for the perfect woman, 
and he told me he'd been searching all 
week. I noticed they were holding а 
Playboy Séance at the next table — one of 
the members put his hands on the table, 
and another member put his hands 
table and then a Bunny 
T ned. The table didn't move, but the 
Bunny did. 

We were still talking philosophically, 
when three Bunnies came out of the 
kitchen carrying a small cake with a 
candle on it, and they brought it over to 


the 


LTT HEA 


(continued from page 119) 


our table and started singing Happy 
Birthday to Hefner and he started 
blushing. It was his 35th birthday. So 1 
reminded him that he was old enough 
now to run for the Presidency — that is, 
if he would be willing to step down. He 
said that he'd thought about that, but 
that the orientation was alien to his pri- 
mary areas of interest. 

‘Then he told me that he was planning 
а new Playboy Panel for the June issue 
and he wanted me to p: 
You see, PLAYBOY has these panel discus- 
sions every few months—a David Suss- 
kind sort of thing— and they record 
them оп tape, then edit them and pub- 
lish them in the magazine. The last one 
I participated in was on the subject of 
Amcrican humor, and it didn't work out 
too well. because we kept theorizing in- 
stead of proving by example. Steve Allen 
and Jonathan Winters and Mike Nichols 
took part and it was mostly а lot of talk 
— which is the way panel discussions 
often wind up — unless you're carcful. 


I think it's an outrageous insult to Playboy 
Clubs all over America!!” 


But Hefner said, "I have a new onc 
that I want you to participate in, and I 
think you'll like the subject — it's to be 
on the Womanization of America.” 

So I said, "The what?" 

And he said, “It’s a verb I made up. 
It means that women dominate our cul- 
ture and I want to find out if men resent 


id, "We do, we do!” 

"Well, we're holding the 
panel discussion at the Playboy Building 
tomorrow afternoon at three, Сап you 
make it?” 

I told him I could and the next after- 
noon I dropped by the rabbit hutch on 
East Ohio Strect. 1 went directly up to 
Mr. Hefner's office, which is shaped like 
a handball court, but with all-walnut 
pancling, and shoji screens, and Herman 
Miller furniture and a boomerang-shaped. 
desk. He asked me if I was ready for the 
Panel, and I said I was, so he took me 
into the Panel Room, which had paneled 
walls — naturally — and a big conference 
table with a tape recorder in the middle 
of it, and there was an elaborate bar and 
a bartender, with a rabbit emblem on his 
shirt, and most of the Panel was already 
seated around the conference table dis- 
cussing the Womuanization of America. 

Hefner introduced me around the 
table to the other Panel members: “This 
is Dr. Theodor Reik. [“How do you do.”] 
And Margaret Mead. [Nice catching up 
with you."] And that’s Norman Mailer 
sitting over there, and. Alexander King." 

“The Duke of Windsor and Jack 
Kerouac should be in later with Judge 
Bazclon and Louis Armstrong.” He gets 
all these people together for his Playboy 
Panels — Hef does. Then he s "m 
going to leave you now. I have to go 
down and look over some layouts anyway. 


ape recorder and he left. 
n to feel very uninhibited, 
and I went over to the bar to get a drink 
and the discussion started. 

Alexander King said to me, "You're 
from California, aren't you?" 
Yeah. You know. I try to 


So he said to me, "Are you aware that 
the divorce rate in Los Angeles County is 
68 percent? 

And I said, "Yeah, I kno} 

So he said, "And as if that's not bad 
enough, they keep getting married. Why 
is that?" 

So I said, "I don't know. I guess we 
believe in love." 

He said, “That's not a valid reason." 
And then he said, “The trouble is— peo- 
ple marry too young.” 

So I said, “What?” 

And he said, “That's right. A woman 
gets married at 19 and at 28 she's а differ- 
ent person.” 


So І "Gee, that's a splendid ex- 
ample.” And а lot of people were ap- 
plauding at the table. 

So he said, 
one in particular. I just made that up. 
Those are often the best statistics. 

So I said, "Really?" 

And then King said, “I want my 
daughter to live with six guys before she 
chooses a husband.” 

So everybody on the Panel is shi 
now, and they're asking all the ques 
to make them feel good. You know, lik 
“What will people think — 


with six men?!” And: “What about con- 
vention: ‘What about middle-class mo- 
rality?" “What about our mores?!” You 


know, he loves that. 

So he said, “I don't give a damn about 
our mores, our hypocritical middle-class 
values, and all that!” 

So alter everybody got through with 
that, we got down to the real question: 
“Do you have a daughter?” 

“No.” 

Then the discussion started really get- 
ting complicated, and Dr. Reik asked, 

Don't you think that most automobiles 
are sold because women like the two-tone 
color schemes of the interiors?” 

So I said, “What do you mean 

So he said, “You know, decorative seat 
covers, and like thai 

So 1 said, "No, they're all digging 
bucket seats today — it's the time of the 
sports car. You know, with that business 
between the seats, and the phony stick 
shift and everything, 

So he said, “Well, I can see I'm going 
to have to be a little more blunt. Don’t 


you think the Edsel failed because of the 
Freudian? 


m of the car?” 
“I think the Edsel 
a Pont 


overt symb 
So I said, 


cause 
wasn't as good as a Р 
So Dr. Reik said, 


determinatis 

So I said, “Ye Й 

So he said, "You're a Marxist!” Апа 
then he saw I was offended, so he said, 
"Aren't you?" 

So Т said, "I don't know. If you can't 


get work, I'm not. Otherwise, I'l go to 
Albania with the others." 

"The discussion went on a litte further 
and then Mailer said, "Why is it when I 
walk into offices they're filled h women 
typing? Why are offices filled with 


garet Mead said, "Bc morc tol- 
nt. Maybe women have to make a 
ing — and they also contribute to so- 
ty by typing in office 

So Alexander King said, “That isn’t 
why women work in offices — they just 
work there to mect guys and get mar- 
ried.” 

And I was sitting there, you know, and 
L was thinking: If women just work in 
offices to get married, maybe they're in- 
incere about typing. Maybe they don't 
care about filing or any of the things 


that are important to me. 

So then Dr. Reik said, “If a woman 
works in an office, that's OK, but if she 
continues in an executive capacity 
through her productive years, that's not 
to meet men so much as to be a man.” 

So I figured, well, I'd better say some- 
ig about this. So I put my hand up. 
Yes," said Dr. Reik, "what is it, young 
man?" 

And I said, "Maybe they hire women 
to work in offices, because women work 
cheaper than men 


thi 


So now they're all sitting at the other 
end of the table together and they're all 
saying, "You are a. Marxist, aren't you 

So I said, 


“Well, I'm not at all sure 
do you think? 


at's your position? 

So he said, "Young man, I'm a Freud- 
ian, and that is a great deal better than 
being a Marxist. 

And they all started agreeing with 
him: "Oh, yes, much better . . . that's a 
great deal better . . 

So I said, "Well, I don't accept a con- 
clusion that easily. I'm going to get a 
ruling on that, I'll call Mr. Hefner.” 

So I picked up the intercom and I 
asked for Hefner and he answered right 
away: "Photo Lab — Hefner here.” (I 
kind of figured you would be. Matching 
up those three different girls in a com- 
posite, ch?) 

So I said, "Mr. Hefner, is it better to 
be a Freudian or a Marxist?” 

So he said, "Well, I would say . . . [I 
could hear him puffing on his pipe philo- 
sophically] . .. that it is better to be a 
Freudian. 

So I it, c'mon, give me some 
support, will ya?” 

He said, “I can't. I have to be objec- 


tiv 
So I 

Freudian? 
So then he said, “Because if Karl Marx 

had gone to see Freud three times a week, 

he could have talked this thing out and 

Russia would be all right today.” 

id, "Isn't that a little oversimpli- 


d, “Why is it better to be a 


"I'm sorry, that's rLAynoy's 
position.” And he hung up. 

I don't пе much of this has been 
very interesting to women, because they 
don't need it Women seem to know 
about sex intuitively: they don't have to 
read PLAYBOY. But men have to study 
and learn, so they buy this manual and 
that way they get to be mature. They get 
to be mature like me: They get to bi 
and they believe that women fold 
three parts. And have staples in their 
tummies. Once a month, you have a 
paper doll to call your own. You can 
unfold her, and fold her up again, but 
can you live with her? I don't know .. . 
it depends on your needs. 


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154 occasions. Wh 


CAREER WOMAN (continued from page 118) 


of failing hearts and exploded. arteries 
—if her boss is a homosexual, she will 
know his boyfriend or boyfriends and use 
that information to her own advantage. 
For the career woman is without truc 
telligence and has but a solitary goal: 
her own personal, particular success. She 
is as ruthless as the Hun, She operates by 
apo methods. To work under her 
and is, for a male, more humiliat- 
ing than to work in a cotton field as a 
black slave, for while she wears the judo 
master's brown belt in interoffice poli- 
ticking, she simultancously demands chi 
alry at the hands of her befuddled male 
m Her desk pulpit and a 
judge's bench and the chair behind it 
is a throne, She hands out holy ordin: 

without. ethic or principle but with the 
. solely, of advancing her perso 
status. She sentences her employees, not 
to merit, but according to 
they advance her name or 
her idiot eminence. She is after 


ions. 


threate: 
power and she is achieving it, for she 


Americans 
Impotence: 
ights as 


has reduced most extant male 
to the next nearest state to 
an acceptance of her usurped 
valid and her due. 

The career woman, usually, has been 
divorced — often several times. If she 
currently married, it is only because the 
married state will help her carcer. Her 
kids — if any — are under the supervision 
of sitters, nurses and indigent rela 5. 
Whatever their state, the career woman 
has long since thrown them to the wolves. 
For, in the single-minded pursuit of 
power and influence, she and her blind- 
folded male accomplices have already fed 
America’s youngsters to Moloch: The 
tots sit about, building up appetites for 
merchandise, their innocent little minds 
"T V.spellbound by what motivational re- 
searchers have learned is most likely to 
ivet tots up to and through commercials: 
scenes of murder, mayhem, massacre and 
similar children’s-hour 

They call her “brilliant,” this highly 
paid Circe in our midst. If she is, how- 
ever, she is also, outside her career, more 
ignorant than institutionalized Mongol- 
oids. She may, that is, know everything 
about traverse-curtain. fabrics; but she 
cannot tell а diplodocus from Debussy 
and thinks ion-exchange has something 
to do with foreign money. 

On her throne she sits, this skirtarirc 
squid, dh tycoon, caring only about 
herself and. heedless of the damage she 
is doing to the national psyche. From 
office to office she spike-heels her girdled 
way and every time her step falls on tile, 
terrazzo or hardwood, another bolt is 
tightened on the coffin of our culture, 

Her operation is not, as a rule, spec 
tacular. It is one of interception multi 
plied by millions and perhaps billions of 
ver goods and services 


are marketed in which women, children 
(and, by now, all men who have been 
denied manhood and are consequently 


part child and womanish as well) have 
any interest, the careerist interferes, add- 
ing her so-called “feminine touch" and 


her note of “womian-appeal” to all man- 
ner of products, from boats to boots, 
autos to automatic dishwashers, inevi- 
tably at the expense of masculine func 
tionalism. And at every one of myriad 
Opportunities she hoodwinks the con- 
sumers into believing that what they 
need and want is what she, the organiza- 
an, says they need and want. 
procal activity and each 
instance of it slightly alters both the 
public demand and the product — goods 
Or services — to better suit the womanoid 
(but never truly womanly) objectives of 
these distaff diminishers of man's estate. 
She is, in a sense, a Norn, snipping and 
weaving individual fates. But even the 
legendary Norns knew the difference 
between men and women, whereas their 
carcer-crazed counterparts do not believe 
in men, or that maleness is justified, and 
so have no real idea of what a woman 
is or should be. 

Each one engages іп a ceaseless strug- 
¢ to unman men and, by every minute 
stratagem her calculating mind can de- 
‚ seeks to make women the primary 
sex. If she is not a stylist she is, mini- 
mally, à style influence. It is her small, 
perpetual interception, for example, that 
took the automobile — once all man's 
and a practical replacement for his 
wagons and buggics— out of а masculi 
sphere of influence and had it repea 
redesigned until it became an ui 
‘hued, becushioned, four-wheeled 


The creep of this she-pox on all the 
artifacts of civilization is insidious and 
all-pervading. Indeed, the career woman 
may cven be present on the sales floor 
itself. In the city where I live it is а 
woman — and her dashing, desirable pi 
ture in her ads— who has outsold all 
the area's men in one car specialt 


Cadillacs. Her ad has boasted as much, 
for ycars. 
No. our virago. our villainess, our 


butter-crunch tyrant is by no means con- 
tent to do her reshe-ing of everything 
and everybody 
She is also, and often pr 


rily, a Buyer. 


Annually, or twice- or thrice-annually, 
she leaves her business place, her fur- 
thick rugs V blinds, beautiful 


secretary (a prop of nearly every one of 
the breed) and her recasting couch (if 
she is still of couchy endowment) and 
goes forth into the wide world to cx 
hume, steal, borrow, blackjack or other- 
wise acquire the aesthetic ideas of men 
living and dead which will provide her 
with “inspirations” for next year’s mode 
—in coats, patios, eggbeaters, car-door 


handles, jewelry, candy, car-seat covers: 
You name it. 

In her, two antithetical qualities meet 
— two mutually exclusive absolutes. Like 
most all her American sisters she is 
the antisexual distillate of a culture 

inally Puritan, and then decadently 
ın. Yet hers is also a culture where 
the long rejection, vilification and gen- 
eral denial of sex ha 
to ooze into artificial and 
spicuousness, to become, 
own ica And ihe tease, when 
amined, is everywhere employed in 
America not to accomplish what it 
gests — an ever more abundant loving — 
but to scll things. 

The career woman embodies a total 
prudishness coupled with an absolute 
vulgarity, and in so doing personifies 
better than any other group that aspect 
of America which invariably strikes vis 
iting foreigners: a vulgarity as vast as 
our very continent and then, incredibly 
combined, the prudishness, the prissi 
ness, the shearing censorship and hateful 
sexchostility of our heritage. We exploit 
sex but reject its experience: it is fam- 
boyant asan American image, yet forbid 
den as a fact. In all history, the cenu 
urge of men and women has never befor 
been so tanializinely acknowledged апа 
then so violently redirected, to lesser, 
substitute activities such as the purchase 
of dishwashers or impulse buying in 
supermarkets. 

Our homes and gardens churn, throb, 
buzz, wheeze and snarl with laborsaving 
devices. Our ladies have not only been 
emancipated from political thrall bur, 
virtually, freed from the old, hard chores 
of homemaking and housekeeping. Elec 
tricity does everything from mixing our 
daiquiris to banishing our garbage. We 
urbanized, suburbanized or exui 


ve forced sexuality 


in eflect, 


ended the exile of nearly everybody, al- 


most everywhere. We ought to be enjoy- 
ing our boasted abundance 
affluence. 


nd arrogant 


"re so nervous, ар 
aut, discontent, stressful 
that — even though we have 
arrived at a time of medical wonders in 
which most of the major killers of our 
have been van- 
quished — we are falling like fies before 
the “diseases” of tension. Germs don't 
now often get us, but our arteries burst. 
Psychosomatic ills our grandparents 
never heard of cripple millions. Other 
ns simply go nuts. 

Whats wrong? What's wrong, fund 
mentally, is a disastrous confusion about 
and even exchange of) our roles as 
males and females. 

Men began to make the error that set 
the stage for our dilemma about two 
centuries ago. As science provided en- 
lightenment in the midst of the Dark 
Age chaoses, men commenced to imagine 


mi 


they could conquer what they had 
Iways regarded as their enemy: Nature. 
And when they reached a point where 
mass production became possible, men 
felt sure they had Nature by the tail. 
At that time — not very long ago — 
nobody even dreamed that mass produc- 
tion would soon lead to pillage of the 
planet. At that hopeful and historic in- 
stant, no one dreamed that America, 
within а couple of generations, would 
he consuming more than half of all the 
minerals and raw materials mined, 
pumped and quarried from the carth 
or grown or harvested on its surface. 
At that seemingly glorious moment, 
nt and timeless values and re- 
hips still briefly obtained. The 
—dad, bud, gramps, uncle Sid — 
the family purchasing agent 
Women bought only the foodstufls they 
could not raise themselves, along with a 
few light-industry items, such as their 
ow! d children's clothes. For a while, 
mass-produced goods were also expected 
to have dural In the early 1900s, a 
house was still expected to last for a few 
g nd vehicles were made to 
endure almost as long. Kiddies toys 
often were inherited from greatgrand- 
parents and the props of adult enter- 
tainment — musical instruments, say — 
were constructed for the ages. 
ach was the setting when woman at- 
ned her first breath of liberati 
vote. She followed up her advantage 
with all the united and furtive frenzy of 
convicts who have found a hole in their 
prison wall. Soon, she became a familiar 
ligure in business. She ceased to be the 
once-rare, shirtwaisted amanuensis of 
the boss—or th 


all-too-common seam- 
stress in the sweatshop, She became a 
proud secretary — then, a business girl — 
and soo woman. By then, she 
was ing cheek-byjowl with com- 
pany executives. Several wars, with their 
withdrawal of manpower from the office, 
factory, mill and elsewhere, gave thc 
s a further boost upstairs 

In this process — and. here's the crux 
of the calamity — the American female 
ht her only possible addition to 
the productivity of brilliant and hard- 
working men: style, at one time designed 
to n ng to man, but 
no lor gh fashion, today, is aimed 
ıt making women envious of each other. 
Hitherto, women had limited their con- 
cern with fashion to constant alterati 
of dress styles. As they began to 
some hold on business enterprise, how- 
ever, and inasmuch as the new marvel 
of mass production made it possible 
(though utterly wasteful), women began 
to admire, demand and include style in 
every sort of goods and services. 

That sole contribution of the feminine 
mind to American enterprise was highly 
acceptable to the men in charge of the 
engines of production. “Styling” had its 
result: pid obsolescence and increased 


sales. Soon, the most durable sorts of 
acts — vehicles, for example — were 
given a characteristic that once had been 
dominant only in miladys wardrobe, 
that of modishness. А man was no longer 
proud that the carriage which trans- 
ported him had been sturdily made in 
his grandpa's day and still survived for 
his thrifty use. On the contrary, if his 
vehicle — now an automobile — were a 
couple of years out-of-date, he (and his 
little woman and his clamorous kids) 
was as heartily ashamed of it as mother 
once would have been to dress in a 
dated evening gown. 

With fashion ascendant, men rushed 
ides into the art and 
distribution and sale 
of evergreate scs of “necessities” 
that had an ever-shorter life. The Amer 
s by then spiraling up- 
ward. And two absolute disasters were 
in the making. 

First, Businessman became the 
American hero, replacing the nobleman, 
the political leader. the artist. doctor, 


can economy wa 


Almost ove: 
became the 


“Whatever it is that Nikita’s up 
І don't like the looks of it.” 


general opinion that women, not men, 
were the proper arbiters of the arts, the 
book-readers, the lecturegoers, the poct- 
admirers. Never before in history had 
one sex so suddenly abdicated what had, 
thitherto, been its galactic symbol-system 
of status. But it happened. And, all of 
sudden, the figures who had always domi- 
nated society and received utmost 
respect—the men of God, the school- 
masters, the professors and artists — be- 
came nobodies, relegated to the bottom 
of the social heap. 

Man's imagination, his brain, his 
natu! apacity for command, control, 
management and direction — all that and 
more — vanished moke puff in 
America. Men who used their intelli 
gences in the arts and the professions 
were not only abruptly sent to the foot 
of the social table, but now, in their 
place, sat men who manufactured egg- 
beaters. A generation of males has since 
grown to adulthood in the new hier- 
archy. By now, most men do not even 
уе that they — not women — were 
once the arbiters of style, beauty and 
design — that they had the authentic 
genius and the genuine good taste — that 


n a 


real 


to, 


155 


PLAYBOY 


156 ha 


they possessed the true discernment and 


intellectual sensitivity of our species. 
They have simply sloughed off their 
birthright and now imagine that all this, 
at which they had excelled in the long 
past of humanity. is woman's sphere. 

Men did not and do not realize that, 
in such immense default, they abandoned 
the essence and center of manhood itself. 
All they know now in most cases is 
that no matter how much they achieve 
under the present rules of statusstriving 
in Amcrica, they somehow don't feel like 
men, or act the way they sense men 
ought to act, or relate to women in any 
reconciling way. No wonder! 

The instant they lost their hold on 
the qualities that truly describe maleness, 
women grabbed them. And — the second 
disaster —the grab induded the purse 
strings Women, in millions, became 
the family purchasing agent. In what 
amounts to a trice, as history is timed, 
the American female turned into the 
Americin spender. Men, by then, were 
too damned busy trying to earn the 
money to pay the bills women incurred 
to have cnergy for anything else. And 
the bills, remember, were of an upward- 
spiraling sort, as that titanic female gim- 
mick, style, began to determ 
of almost every product. V 


obsolescence, everything from child 
toys to entire kitchen s to 
houses, became likely 1 apart 


or fall out of fashion overnight and 
therefore to require replacement. The 
t enterprise of advertising — under 
careerwoman attrition — here took the 
lead. 

Readers will, at this point, begin to 
what then happened. With 
women doing the buying and manhood 
ng its life away on the assembly 
line or in the office, it was inevitable 
that women would become arbiters of 
what would sell and so of what men 
It was then that the 
t into full and repul- 
sive bloom. Her primary task became to 
conceal the grandeur of masculine intel. 
ligence and imagination —to pretend 
that these were basically womanly attri- 
butes — апа to sce to it that America's 
young males and females were so heavily 
indoctrinated in that fallacy as to be 
unable, all their lives, to undo the 
delusion. By that grim process, of course, 
the schoolmaster was shoved aside and 
specialized career women took over edu- 
cation from play school clear to — and 
often including — college. 

"The career woman also turned Amcri- 
ca's wives into carecr-women-stooges: 
What the she-pilots of school, home and 
dustry claim to be the right direction 
is taken by the entire sisterhood as the 
proper course for the American home, 
America’s kids and, of course, for pop. 

As a result, there now exist males who 
ven't the faintest notion of the mean- 


ing of their sex. Consciously or not, they 
take their directives from distaff dictators 
— cradle to coffin, It never dawns on 
them that they, not the little lady — that 
tireless emulator of the arrogant career- 
ists— are innately better fitted to select 
the decor for a drawing room, choose 
books, determine family budgets, man- 
age ollspring and decide what the 
(or will not) learn and do. In virtua 
every one of their once-proudly held and 
magnificently administered categories of 
ament, they now defer 
to the little woman, who in turn takes 
her cue from Big Sister, the unassuageably 
avaricious career woman. 

Most of the males of Madison Avenue 
— the men who “create” and advertise 
and distribute and sell the swiftly out- 
moded and soon-broken gadgets of our 
modern world —are, owing to the pro- 
cesses noted above, woman-counseled (if 
not woman-bossed) in the office as well 
as at home. Since he devotes his life to 
things that women will buy, dic m 
the gray flannel suit is, really, a pre 
tender, If he wore garments on his body 
that truly described his slant of mind 
and stated the use he es of hi 
critical and imaginative faculties, he 
would wear prison stripes and an apror 

Assisting the career women in their 
nel terprises nowadays are other 
thousands of men who, faced with asex- 
ual H nd antisexua ces, have, 
simply, given up even trying to be male 
and turned, in shricking dismay, to 
homosexuality. These victims of the 
transcendent American She have tried, 
in effect, to beat their assailants by 
joining them. Hordes of such would-be 
escapists have banded with the carcer 
woman to denigrate further what is left 
of masculinity. 

The career woman has done all th 

Look at her! 

Under her hatcrown curl the blue- 
dyed, machine-made tresses. Her mouth 
is like an Her eyes are two hands- 
ful of glinting fishhooks. Her little chit 
can cut channels through stuff bulldozers 
couldn't scratch. Her brain is concen 
trated upon two things, and only two: 
selfadvancement (even if that must be 
made over more corpses than were 
stacked at Shiloh's breastworks) and 
upon the profession in which she has 
carved other peoples flesh) her 
carcer. 

What can be donc about her, and her 
works? Is there hope for men who still 
try, in their fumbling way, to recover 
manhood? 

I think so. I think, indeed, that the 
rebellion has begun. 

The career woman — and all she is 
and does and has done to womanhood 
in general — prevails today primarily 
because of a special sort of suppression. 
She would topple from her pulpit, jud 
ciary bench and throne if men, once 


ious 


again, began to feel and act toward 
women in the intended ways. That is to 
say, women should again be seen by men 
as complements of themselves and not as 
competitors. American men need to 
realize that the female is their ural 
love-object and that her most worthy 
aspect is scen in her flowering youth. 
They need a fair and ringing statement 
defining sexuality as altogether good and 
noble and complete and satisfying. They 
need, to put it plainly, a sharp and 
ting experience of luscious wom- 
anhood in her natural state, of woman- 
hood occupied with her real cr 
enticing and then cooperating with males 
— not an unnatural career of avaricious 
commerce. 

A little reflection will disclose the 
extent to which our society at present 
tries to censor, obliterate, outlaw and 
hide every evidence — in photograph or 
drawing, in print or on calendars, in 
prose or, particularly, in. person — that 
woman is intended to be the sexual 
companion of man. Let us, then, who arc 
still masculine, or who wish to become 
masculine, and those who would under- 
take to restore a birthright now stolen 
by the carcer sisterhood and their dupes 
—let us unite to celebrate womanhood 
as feminine, as gorgeous, as titillating 
and and let us hoot down with 
hearty bass guffaws any and all v 
and puritanical dames who try to stride 
in and put a stop to our fun. 

Let us cultivate a climate of ural 
yearning and healthy satisfaction, a cli- 
mate in which the destructive career 
woman, that deadly steatopygous copro- 
phagiac, will perish from neglect and 
scorn. 

Let us once more allow women to 
inspire us— not to pilfer our pockets 

nd withhold their love, th beauty 
and their erotic companionabili 

Let us n celebrate women in their 
rightful role. 

Unless we do, gentlemen, the jig may 
soon be up, as was implied in the 
opening passage of this dithyramb. For, 
in these sick and frustrate days, the 
energies and efforts of such men among 
us as still own and use their imaginations 
are being increasingly devoted to a pair 
of allied ellorts. One of those is, simply, 
to get off the earth and out of the she— 
ratrace entirely, in space vehicles. Fail- 
ing that, failing to regain manhood and 
resupply women with their true careers 
(men), these last and uncowed represen- 
tatives of disgraced, tormented, castrated 
and frustrated manhood are, sure as sun- 
shine, going to blow the whole miscrable, 
perverse, inverted and self-defeated thing 
we call civilization to atoms. The time 
remaining is short. But the girls— not 
the career women, gentlemen, just the 
girls — are willing, even eager, to help. 


FIRST WIFE 


(continued from page 145) 


doglike devotion and a strong sense of 
duty. 

She should be willing to follow you 
through thick and th pecting little, 
yet happy for every favor you bestow, 
grateful for every pat or kind word. 

Beware the schemer, the girl who pre- 
tends devotion only to trap you into 

e. Simple errands often point the 


ie, I spent just hours trying 
to get City Hall to answer your ques- 
tion. Must have been to 20 depart- 
ments.” 

(City Hall is an excellent place to 
lest strength of character.) 
‘Oh? Find the answer, Susie?” 
‘Well, no, Davie, J didn't, but — 
zot a permanent today, too, eh? 

(Be quick to note evidence of per- 
sonal vanity or selfishness.) 

"I simply had to — I ——" 

“Doesn't matter, pet, I don't mind 
at all. 

(No use making an open display 
of temper.) 


Keep looking. No effort is too great if 
you are to find the girl of your dreams. 


A FLEXIBLE MIND 


ake. Your own mind 
will be strong enough for both of you. 
Powerful mental equipment on the part 
of the wife leads only to friction a 
unplea ss. Sparks can fly and tears 
may flow. 

The first wife should have a good but 
flexible mind, one that will bend casily. 
Keep bending it in the right direction, 
and you will soon have a wife that is the 
envy of all your friends. 


Many believe that education is harm- 
Tul to the good wife. Nothing could be 
further 


rom the truth. In hundreds of 
ls with actual degrees have 
Though there is little th 


the classroom can contribute to the 
work she will have to do, most modern 
girls’ schools encourage games and body- 
building sports. Field hockey, especi 
good. It inge 
g and mopping mations. Girls who 
marry quickly following school can even 
retain some of the same calluses, well- 
trained muscles, and nimble athletic 
reflexes. 
Her real education will begin the 
moment the two of you become man 
and wife. All during this period, whi 
may last for years, she will be learning, 
plucking the ripe fruit that hangs so 
heavily from your mental branches. 


GOOD BREEDING 


The influence of heredity, which 
ence tells us is so important, should not 
be overlooked. A girl with a good set of 
chromosomes is a prize indeed. 

How, so many ask, can 1 check up on 
them? 

Look to her family, A father, for ex- 
ample, who is on the board of directors 
of a number of influential corporations 
can be reasonably sure to have accepta- 
ble chromosomes. Worldly honors do 
not come by accident, and are only too 
often the result of good breeding and a 
well-chosen group of ancestors. 


"CAN 1 REALLY FIND HER?” 


“What are my chances,” you may ask, 
“of finding such a woman?” Very small. 
But don't be discouraged. Remember 
that the new wile is only the raw mate- 
rial with which you will work. It will be 
your duty to train her, long and painful 
though the process may be. 

If you keep at it, with little thought of 
sclf, but only a firm resolve to have a 
fine wife, you will succeed! 

Detailed instructions follow 
next chapter. 

NEXT MONTH: “HOW TO 
TRAIN YOUR FIRST WIFE” 


in the 


COURTEOUS TO WOMEN 
(continued from page 107) 


in relation to your debt?" 

"Well, now, that aspect of the matter 
certainly has a bearing on the issue. Y 
сеу is the man I telephoned five or six 
weeks ago when I reached Paris after 
losing all of my moncy in the gambling 
houses on the Riviera.” 

“How much did you lose?” 

“Ten thousand dollars." 

“Uncle Sam isn't going to like that, is 
he?" 

"I don't like it, either. I only did 
the hope of getting the money he cl 
1 owe by some other means than writ- 


n- 


hy not by means of writing?" 

"Well, first, because it's hard work, as 
you yourself may know, in case you're a 
newspaperman who has written books, 
or is trying to." 
ve w x, and published three." 
"Then you know." 

"Only too well, and not one of the 
published books carned more than a 
thousand dollars.” 

"Fd like to read them sometime, if 
you've got copies to sparc. Or at any rate 
I'd like to try. I'm a poor reader." 

‘They're not novels, they're only col- 
lections of pieces. You might enjoy read- 
ing around in them. 

‘Well, I'd like to ty.” 

“Digression over. I mean, here's one of 
the books. ГІ pick it up tomorrow 
ing." 

"No. give me at least until day after 
tomorrow morning. 

"OK. So you tried to win the moncy 
you need for taxes, and instead you lost 
the money you had. 

“Every dollar of it, plus a thousand 
from my Italian publisher, plus three 
thousand from my London agent. 

"Making the total lost $14,000? 

“I think of it as $15,000, because that's 
the way I prefer to think of losses. 
Never underestimate the amount you 
lose, always overestimate. Having lost, 


mor 


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I came to Paris, to see Yancey, but for 
three days I put off telephoning him — 
because I still had hopes of getting the 
money I need some other way. 

“What other way, for in: 

“The National Lottery of France. I 
bought one ticket for a little less than 
2600 francs, worth about nd as the 
drawing was the follo nd as 
the results of the dr would be 
lable the day after the. drawing, 
ted to wait, and while I waited I 
believed I might just win — 50,000,000 
francs, that is, or $100,000. It doesn’t 
matter that I didn't know my ticket could 
win a maximum of only 5,000,000 Irancs. 
Who needs to know a thing like that? 
So let it be only 5,000,000, it would be a 
beginning, wouldn't it? And I could get 
back into all kinds of gambling action. 
\s it turned out, I won.” 

“How much?” 

“Three thousand francs, which is 400 
francs more than I paid for the ticket— 
that would be a net profit of about 80 
cents, which of course is better than 
nothing. Any kind of a win is better 
than a loss but it just wasn't enough. 
And it costs money to live at the Hotel 
George V. Thus, there was no other way 
out. I telephoned Yancey and the fol- 
lowing afternoon I went up and told 
him my story.” 

"What did you tell him?" 
m flat broke and ready to go to 
work—on anything 

“And what did Yancey tell you?" 

* You've got a deal. Read some prop- 
erties I own, and let me know what you 
think of them. IE any of them appeal to 
you, write the whole thing over. We'll 
talk business as soon as you find some- 
thing you like. If you don't find any- 
thing you like, come up with an ide 
and if I like it, we'll talk business again.” 

So what happened?" 
mined half a dozen of 
properties and didn't like any of them. 
I came up with an idea, he liked it, 
and he told me to go ahcad 


wing 


"Did you 

"E began day before yesterday 

“What is iu" 

"E haven't finished writi 
І don't know.” 

“Tve heard that you work swiftly. I've 
heard that you wrote a play that got all 


it yet, so 


the prizes in six days, but then that 
was away back there in 1939. How long 


do you think 
this job?” 

“Im giv 
thr 


will take you to finish 


g myself nine days—that's 
¢ extra days, in honor of Paris, so 
Well, this is the Plaza-Athénée. 
Have you got your story?” 

“It would be a much better story if 
I knew how this job of writing for 
Yancey turns out, what you think of it, 


how much money you are paid for it 
and so on." 

Yes, I suppose it would, but in that 
case you'll have to come around to the 
George V a week from today." 

"OK, I will” 

"They said so long, and he went on 
into the lobby and asked the man at 
the desk to telephone Yancey. 

e the man tried to get Yancey 
on the phone, the thought came to the 
writer that the better part of the prob- 
lem of the writer, not himself necessarily, 


the writer in general, 
U.S. or anywhere else in the world, 
Iceland, for i 


basic problem of a 
at any time, is health, ри 

But most writers didn't ha 
Scott Fitzgerald didn't, and n 
Thomas Wolfe. They h 
of it, at any . And if you were given 
to speculation of that sort you won- 
dered what they would have gone on 
y had health enough to 
useless to do that, of 
course, to speculate in that manner, and 
yet it was almost 

If Wolfe had sur bi NE spirit 
had quicted down a little, if he had 
become only a little disenchanted with 
his writing, with the world, with art. 
with the human race, with himself, if 
in fact he could come (at least for a 
moment or two now and then) to despise 
it all (as in fact he surely must have, in 
any case), and if he had fallen into 
silence, even, or into a state of despair, 
a r in Brooklyn for a 
g nothing, who could 
guess what he might have gone 
write? Who could guess how much 
deeper and more true his writing might 
have become, how much shorter in point 
of number of words used and how 
1 and clean in point of effect? 
uscless to do that, since the 
word had come from somewhere in the 
North, in the state of Washington or 
Oregon, that Thomas Wolfe had died, 
and the year was only 1938. 

Now, Wolfe had been dead 21 years, 
even while he waited for the call to 
Yancey to go through. Why had Wolfe 
rushed? Why had he written so much, 
so swiftly, and so steadily, instead of 
saying suddenly, "Now, I stop." 

Yancey came on the line, and after 
a few minutes they went to the bar and 
talked. 

Yancey зай 
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“I was at the Aviation Club [rom one 
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began to gamble carefully. After five 
minutes ] had 15,000. 1 went from the 
big table to the lite one just as the 
bank was betting 50,000 francs, and T 
said banco because nobody at that table 
new I didn't have 50,000. The dealer 
ive me two pictures and then an acc, 
and he turned up for himself a picture 
and a two, and | figured my goose was 
cooked. But he added an eight to the two 
lor a baccara, or nothing, so the croupier 
slid the win to me off the wooden spade 

“Well, you've got guts." 

"]t wasn't enough to have gotten out 
of a bad spot, 1 had to go on drinking 
and gambling, so pretty soon 1 was al- 
most broke . Í lost and won three 
four in the morning 1 
suddenly noticed that I had almost 
100,000 francs. Without any trouble at 
all 1 got up and cashed in my chips and 
went out to the Champs: 
from across the street came four pretty 
girls in a merry group. They were from 
Le Sexy, and they wanted onion soup. 
They were so happy together 1 agreed 
to take them to where they like to have 
their onion soup, a place somewhere in 
Pigalle, but along with the onion soup 
they wanted champagne, too. Pd had 
such good luck, losing and winning, 1 
figured hell, let them have what. they 
want, it isn’t my money anyway. The 
onion soup and champagne cost me 
30,000 Irancs, or 60 bucks. 1 kissed them 
goodnight, in broad daylight, as if each 
had been a wife for 20 years or m 
really loving cach of them, not know 
anything at all about cach of them, as 
it is with a man Kissing his wife after 20 
years. And then I went up the street 
and came upon one of the prettiest girls 
I have ever seen, surely not more th 
17, with bruise marks all over her arms. 
I stopped to chat a moment, and she 
said she ated а lot for w 
1 believed she would want 30,000, but 
а lot to her turned out to be 1500, or 
three lousy dollars. Í loved her as if she 
were that same wife alter a long night 
of fun, and she said, ‘You are not an 
American, you cannot be an Americ 
I know many Americans, 1 was brought 
up near an Army post.’ Yes, 1 got drunk 
last night all right, and I'm still drunk, 
but 1 kuow one thing—l know my work 
is going to go just fine when 1 get 
around to it in an hour or two. For 
three or four or five hours, for as long 
as | necd to write scene one of act two 
I know my writing is going to go just 
с, and that's my job, isn't it? To sce 


ysées, and 


n 


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MILLIONAIRE MENTALITY 


(continued from page 113) 
and chafed тран ntil he could 
return to the drilling sites. 

I inspected ту properti 
GO days after Georg; 
under the new ve 


Miller 


took over 
ship. | checked 
the operations minutely, but could find 


nothing wrong. Indeed, 1 noted little if 
anything I could have improved upon 
personally. Needless to say. in a very 
short time both Miller and I were mak 
ing far more money than we had belore 
he started working on a profit-sharing 
basis. The incident taught me one of the 
many lessons which have Jed me to be- 
lieve that most men fall into one of 
four general categories. 
In the first group are those individuals 
who work best when they work entirely 
for themselves — when they own and 
operate their own businesses. Such men 
do not want to be employed by anyone. 
Their desire is to be completely inde- 
pendent. They care nothing for the se- 
curity a salaried job offers. They want to 
create their own security and build their 
own futures entirely on their own. In 
short, they want to be their own bosses 
ing to accept the responsi- 

bilities and risks this entails. 
e the men who, for any of a 
large number of reasons, do not want to 
go into business lor themselves, but who 
achieve the best, and sometimes spec- 
tacular, results when they are employed 


by others and share in the profits of the 
business. 


ely different types 
. They from 
ght salesmen who prefer working 
on a commission basis — earning in pro 
portion to what they produce, with 
neither floors nor ceilings on their in- 
comes — to the finest executives in the 
business world. 

orge Miller was one who fit into 
this category. So — at the uppermost end 
of the scale — did the late Charles E. 
"Engine Charlie" Wilson. Fm certain 
that Charles F. Wilson would have 
achieved great success had he gone into 
business for himself. But he preferred 
working for someone else—first for 
ше Westinghouse Electric Company 
and then for the General Motors 
Corporation. Wilson's rise from ап 18- 
centan-hour job to the $600,000-a-year 
presidency of General. Motors is a cla 
sic saga of American business. Charles E. 
Wilson was always an employce—but he 
amassed millions through  stock-owner- 
ship in the companies for which he 
worked, thus sharing in the profits he 
helped to create. 

My third category includes individuals 
who want only to be salaried employees, 
people who are reluctant to take risks 
and who work best when they are em- 
ployed by others and. enjoy the security 
of a st 


People in this group are good, con- 
scientious and reliable workers. They 
те loyal to their employers, but are 
content with the limited incentives of a 
regular paycheck and hopes for occa- 
sional raises i ry. They do not pos- 
sess the initiative and independence — 
and, perhaps, the self-confidence and 
drive — of individuals in the first two 
groups. 

Lastly, there are these who work for 
others but have the same attitude toward 
their employers that postal clerks have 
toward the Post Office. Department. I 
hasten to make clear that I intend no 
slight or slur inst postal clerks, who 
work hard and well. But they are not 
motivated by any need or desire to pro- 
duce a profit for their employer. Postal 
deficits are traditional and they are met 
regularly by the Federal Government. 1 
doubt very seriously if there is one posta 
derk in 100 who cares whether the Post 
Office Department makes a profit or op- 
ates at а deficit. This is, perhaps, as it 
should be— in the Post Office Depart 
ment, But, obviously, such attitudes are 
ny business operating in a free 
enterprise system. 

Yet there 1 who 
hold — or would like to hold — manage 
ment positions in business whose out 
looks arc virtually identical with those 
of the average postal clerk. They don't 
really care whether the company that 
employs them makes a profit or shows a 
loss as long as their own paychecks ar- 
rive on timc. 

I've encountered. countless specimens 
— graduates of the i leading 
schools of ess Administration 
among them — who, incredibly enough, 
utterly incapable of reading a bak 
nce sheet and couldn't even give an 
intelligent definition of what is meant 
by the term “profits.” 

Whatever exalted titles such men may 
hold, they still remain nothing more 


e far too many 


than glorified postal clerks. They feel 
little or no sense of responsibility to 
their employers or the stockholders of 


the company for which they work. They 
© interested solely in ieir own per- 
al wellar 
twardly, some of these men seem to 
qualifications for 
адетин. jobs, They are obviously ir 
telligent and арра 
But not even a 180 LQ. will necessarily 
an individual а good businessman 
or executive. And, as Roger Falk so cor 
rectly points out in his book, The Busi- 
ness of Management, many a man who is 
supposed to have, say, 10 yc x 
fence has really had only one y 
experience repeated 10 times over. 
Large nu postal clerk 
types spend years— even decades — try- 
g to reach th rungs of the suc- 
cess ladder and wondering why they 
tain them. They can't understand 


зо! 


€ 
possess the essentia 


ently experienced. 


make 


why they aren't given top jobs or can't 
"get rich. 

The reason they 
in the mind. 

Like it or not, there is a thing that 
can be called The Millionaire Menta ity. 
There is a frame of mind which pu 
ividual a long way ahead on the road 
to success in business, whether it be in 
his own ol т executive. 

In short, The Millionaire Menta ity is 
one which is always and. above all cost- 
conscious and. profit-minded. [t is most 
ikely to be found among men in the 
first two categories | have cited. 

This Millionaire Mentality rarely 
found among individuals in the third 
group. But then, they seldom have am- 
bitions to be anything more than cm- 
ployces in the lower or middle echelons 
of a business organization. 

The Millionaire Mentality is entirely 
nonexistent among men in the fourth 
category. Unfortunately, however, these 


l? Actually, it's all 


an 


as 


ally the very people who have 
the wildest delusions about their own 
value — the ones who do the least and 
demand the most. They view the com- 
pany for which they work as a cornucopia 
m which good things should flow to 
them rather than as something to which 
they owe loyalty and which they should 
strive to build. 

There were times in the past when I 
tried to excuse the failings of these 
postal clerk types on the grounds th 
they hadn't had the advantages Pd e 
in life. 1 reasoned that they did 
€ the same amount of formal 
education Га received, hadn't traveled 
as widely nor had as much busin 
perience as 1. Then I g 
that when their perso 
involved, these economic illiterates sud. 
denly became as shrewd as the most 
successful financier. 

1 once took control of a company 
which had gr potentials but a very 

i carnings record. It didn't 


"Good evening, sir. Is the lady of the house in?” 


161 


PLAYBOY 


162 money 


take me very long 
trouble. Three of 
key executives were virtually casebook 
examples of the postal clerk, men who 
ther cost-conscious nor profit 


to pinpoint the 
the company's 


were n 
minded, 

The monthly salaries of each of these 
men ran into four figures. One month, 
shortly before payday, I instructed. the 
department to "short" each 
of their paychecks by five do 
if they complained, to send them di 
to me. 

As I more or less expected, all three 
of the executives concerned: presented 
themselves at my office within an hour 
after their checks were delivered on 
payday. To cach, in turn, 1 delivered a 
little speech that was hardly calculated 
to brighten his day. 

“I've been going over the company's 
I announced sourly. “I've found 

ral examples of what | consider un- 
necessary expenditures which have cost 
this company's stockholders many tens 
of thousands of dollars in the last year. 
Apparently, you paid little or no atter 
tion to them. Certainly. I've seen no 
evidence that you tried to reduce the 
expenses or correct the situations which 
caused them to rise as high as they did. 
Yet, when your own paycheck is in- 
volved, you instantly notice а five-dollar 
underpayment and take immediate steps 
to have the mi rectified.” Two of 
the executives got the point, took it to 
heart and quickly mended their 
The third did none of these thing: 
and was soon looki elsewhere for 
work. 

It should go without saying that no 
business can long survive unless it makes 

profit. It should also go without saying 
that businessmen and business executives 
st be constantly alert for ways to 
duce costs and increase ciciency, pro- 
duction, quality and sales so that the 
company he owns—or for which he 
works — can operate at a profit. 

These would appear to be the most 
basic of all basic business axioms. Yet it 
d fact that many businessmen and 
executives. barely comprehend. them = 
ıd there even those who don’t com- 
prehend them at all! 


ways. 


sa 


An айдоо! attitude was ex- 
pressed to me recently by a young execu 
tive who complained bitterly that his 


hed 


deparime 
by $20,000. 

“Did the cut reduce the ойс 
your department or curtail any of its 
productive operations?” 1 asked him. 

"No. 1 guess not,” he replied afte 
moments thought. 

“Then why compl 1 inquired. 

“We could have found something to 
spend the money on!" was this alle 
executive's answer. “After all, you have 
to think big and spend money to make 


budget had been sl 


ney of 


in? 


Tm glad this young man wasn't on 
onc of my payrolls. 1 would have disliked 
terminating our conversation by firing 
him on the spot. 

I've heard this concept that “you have 
to think big and spend money to make 
money" bandied about ever since 1 be- 
gan my own business career. 1 doubt if 
there 
widely misinterpreted. 

1 agree that anyone who desires to 
achieve success and wealth in business 
must have imagination and be farsighted. 
He must also be willing to spend — and 
risk—money, but only when the expendi 
ture is justified. and the risk is carefully 
calculated. 


is any other business concept more 


In my opinion, it’s more important for 
the man with The Millionaire Mentality 
to be able to think small than to think 


big — in the sense that he gives meticu 
lous attention to even the smallest de- 
tails and misses no opportunity to reduce 
costs in his own or his employer's bu 
ness. 1 explained my views along these 
lines not long ago to a newly graduated 


ws 


aspirant for a junior executive position 
ап that а man has to be 
2 Бе 


“Do you m 
a penny pincher to be a succe 
wanted to know. 

1 repli t what might se 
penny-pinching at one level might well 
loom as а large-scale economy at am- 
other. 1 mentioned the example of the 
nt U.S. corporation that recently 
study of the contents of the 
tebaskets in its administrative offices, 

Each night for a week, a team of 
workers emptied the waste receptacles 
апа sorted out the usable items of com- 
pany property which had been tossed into 
them by the firm's employees during the 
- By computing the value of such 
minor items as paper clips, rubber bands, 
erasers, pencils, and so on which had 
been. discarded the week and 
multiplying the total by 
officials discovered that more tl 
000 was bı 


Another frm operating a fleet of 
пеку saved $15,000 lv on its gaso- 
linc bills just because an alert executive 
noticed that drivers were filling their [uel 
tanks to overflowing at the company 
s pumps and that gasoline remaining 
in hosc nozzles was allowed to drip onto 
the ground. 
In one of mı 


own companie 


junior executive burned much midnight 
1 а production 
г 


oil to devise a shortcut 
operati h saved less il 
cent per unit, but added up to a toi 
yearly saving of over 525,000 
than twice his own 
also reduced overall costs by 20 percent 
and increased production by 12 percent 
in his own department. This young man 
quite definitely has what 1 term The 
Millionaire Mentality. He . inc 
dentally, no longer a junior execu 


n wi 


1 do not he 
reach the top and ma 
record time. 

In this day and 
firm has to 


to predict that he will 
ke his millions in 


, the emp! 
to be on reducing costs and increasi 
production. 

‘There is absolutely no room in tod 
business world for even the most junior 
executive who has а postal clerk's out- 
look — but there is an atiable and ever- 
growing need for executives who possess 
or will develop Millionaire Mentalities. 
Faced with spiraling costs 
profit margins, many firms have begun to 
weed out the former and give greater 
krtitude and opportunity to the latter. 

In my own companies, we have inst 
иней а program of 
to rid ourselves of the personnel di 
wood which has been allowed to collect 


over the years—and which, inevitably, 
collects in almost any business firm. 
] hundred executives and em. 


been compulsorily retired 
before reaching the normal re 
age. The criterion for selecting 
those to be retired has been their actual 
value to the companies. In brief, the 
question asked in each was whether 
the individu: productive, cost-con- 
scious and profit-minded 
‘True, the cost of retiring these people 
and of paying them pensions years bi 
fore they were due to receive them is 
very high. But we have found that the 
cost is significantly less than the cost of 
keeping them on our payrolls, where 
they not only draw full pay, but cause 
more harm than good, producing losses 
instead of profit 
The man with a Million: 
is not y pincher 
grubbe executi 
costs and tries to reduce them—and 
strives to increase. production and sales 
and thus profits— in every way he can 
because he has the interests of the com- 
pany, its shareholders and employees at 
heart. He knows that the healthier the 
company, the better its profit picture 
the more those shareholders and em- 
ployces will benefit. 
It is more than а fi 
that an executive 
holders’ investments and the employees’ 
jobs in his trust. To discharge those 
trusts, he must direct every effort to in 
t the company makes a fair 
— оне not only large enough for 
ess, but 


well 
ment 


wa 


c Mentality 
and money- 
‚һе watches 


€ of speech to 
holds the stock 


enough [or it to tak 
opportunities for expansion. An execu- 
tive who understands this and acts ac 


cordingly is already well on his way to 
establishing the frame of mind that pro- 
duces The Millionaire Mentality. He is 
also assured of success. He is on his way 


to the top. 


. - she was supposed to get in after you baked the cake!” 


PLAYBOY 


164 


GLOWWORM 


cated, nor willing to waste their time 
or charms on inept members of the op- 
posite sex. Miss Rasher started thc 
Society as a lark, of course, but it soon 
became a serious institution. Tod: its 
membership is worldwide, and while the 
ct figures are secret, there are over 
8000 female members, to say nothing of 
several hundred officers of both sexes. 

Members? But what kind of club is 


сха 


i 

“Its not a club,” she said contemp- 
tuously. "It is a Society. Modesty aside, 
I must tell you that it numbers some 
of the most beautiful women in the 
world as its members: the enrollment 
requirements are very strict. Fach mem- 
ber is permitted to wear this small glow- 
worm pin — for identification purposes." 

"For whose identification purposes: 

“For the attractive and — suitable 
s the Glow girls are seeking Once 
a man qualifies, he is gi winged 
glowworm pin— the male glowworm is 
winged, you know, and carries no light. 
This pin enables him to approach any 
Glow member and be assured of — shall 


п ardent welcome 
"You mean he can — 
Yes, Mr. Holrood. Without fear of 
rejection, without time-wasting prelimi- 
naries, the Glow girls of the world are 
his for the asking.” 
He swallowed twice. 
“But how do you quali 
I have to do, swim the Hellespon 


What do 


(continued from page 61) 


“Nothing so unrelated. Certain offi- 
cers of the Glow have been appointed 
Official Examiners. 

He looked at the card again. 

“О. Is d ОЈ 

"Yes, I have that honor.” 

"And you mean—you'll give me a 
chance?’ 

“That's my job, Mr 
reached for the purse again, and with 
efficient motions. withdrew a tiny note- 
pad and a slim pencil. She wrote rapidly 
on the first page, tore it out, and handed 
it to him. “I'm afraid | have another 
appointment this evening, bat if you'll 
come to this address tomorrow night at 
say, 10 o'clock, I'll be happy to see vou." 

“Look, Debbie, you sure this isn’t 
some kind of ri 
Us not a 


м . means?" 


Holrood." Shc 


rib, 
please call me Miss Landi 
remember, | am an officer. 


Mr. Holrood, and 


You must 


“You honestly mean you'll — and. I'm 
supposed to—— 

“Ies the only chance you'll have. Fail 
tomorrow night, and the ladies of the 
Glow Society are denied to you forever. 
If you succeed, of course, 
swear to keep the fact secret. The pins 
are not transferable, and any infraction 
of the rules will meet with immed 
revocation of all privileges. Is that clear? 

“Perfectly clear. Perfectly nutty, but 


you must 


cd two 
and her surfa 
five degrees. 


ingers on her shoulder, 
temperature. dropped 
Please, Mr. Holrood,” she 


said. "Until tomorrow." 

"Then shc turned and went back in- 
side. 

At 10 the following night, she was 
hardly less glacial when she grected him 
at the door of her apartment. But instead 
of a red dress, she wore a translucent 
of pale blue, held together at 
at by a glowwom pin with a 
ıbly smooth-working catch. 


the th 
remar 


When he received the offical notifica- 
tion in the mail, I immediately 
telephoned Deborah L partment. 

‘I want to see you,” he said. 

. Mr. Holrood, that's against 
the rules, Did vou receive my letter?” 

“I got it.” he said, with de 
"But D still want to sce you. Are you 
free for lundi 

There was a momentary, lip-chewing 
pau 


“Tm soi 


АП right" the girl said. "Where do 
you eat lunch?” 

He met her at the Allenby Room 
shortly after 12. and steered her to a 


secluded table. She wore a white tailored 


suit and looked virginal. He gritted his 
teeth, and ungrit them only for the 
first mar 


‘All right,” he said. "I suppose you're 
i y smug today.’ 

rtainly not. I never enjoy declining 
a likely malc, Mr. Holrood, that's not 
we're after.” 

Т was really that bad, was P” 

“You mean you dont know?” She 

shrugged, and sipped her drink lan- 
guidly. 
Yes, | know," Daniel said harshly. 
1 know that I enjoyed that night about 
much as a schoolboy enjoys his final 
exams, What did you expect?” 

“We expect love, Mr. Holrood, warm, 

ie love. Is that too much to ask 
thy young man?” 
And since when is love such a onc- 
sided proposition? You had me so damn 
jittery with your lousy O.E. card and 
your icebox attitude —" 

“1 was only doing my duty 

“No,” Daniel said gravely. “You 
weren't doing your duty, Miss Land 
You were forgetting it takes two (o 
tango, and that's the most serious offense 
in the Glow Society. Frankly, I don't 
know how we ever let you take the job 
xaminer. 
rched. 


wi 


"Did you 
"Yes, we, 


uy we? 
Daniel said. He took out 


his wallet and removed a card. It read: 
NOLKOOD, 
PRESIDENT, NORTHEAST DIVISION. 


лик GLow 
VIC) 
“I'm sorry,” he 


SOCIETY, DANIEL K. 


1 quietly. "But even 
the Examiners must be examined some 
times, Turn in your glowworm, Miss 
Landis — you're through. 


OPPOSING STATEMENTS (continued prom page 112) 


BUCKLEY Tre answer was no. The father 
spent the evening talking with his wife and sister, and 
on his knees praying. The next morning he opened the 
door to the escort who had come to fetch his son, put 
a bullet through his head, turned and shot his wife and 
child, and then blew out his own brains. 

That is not merely a horror story, nor merely a 
personal tragedy, any more than the story of Anne 
Frank was merely an isolated horror story, a personal 
tragedy. H is a part of a systemic tragedy, just as the 
annihilation camps in Germany and Poland were a 
part of a systemic tragedy; the tragedy that arises not 
out of the workaday recognition of man's capacity f 
brutality, but out of the recognition that man's capac- 
ity for good is equal to the task of containing at least 
systemic horror, but that we are here frozen in inac- 
tivity, while the horror spreads, leaping over continents 
and oceans and slithering up to our shoreline, while 
those whose job it is to contain that horror grind out 
their diplomatic nothingness, and the nation’s poets 
wallow in their own little sorrows. The American 
Right Wing, of whom 1 am merely one member, 
dumsily trying to say what Norman Mailer with his 
ying so very much better 
if only he would raise his eyes from the world's genital 
glands, are trying to understand why; are trying to 
understand what is that philosophy of despair, and 
who was it that voted to make it the law of n; tions, 
that we should yield to it, that teaches us to be im- 
potent while fury strikes at the carpenter's home 90 
miles from the greatest giant history ever bred, whose 
hands are held down by the Lilliputian solipsists of 
contemporary liberalism. 

Cuba is a symbol of American liberalism's failure 
to meet the challenges of the modern world. If such a 
thing as Castro Cuba were not possible, such a thing 
as the American Right Wing, as it exists today, would 
not be possible; as things are, the Ame 
Wing is necessary, and. providential. 

Why are we now threatened with Castro? Why 
should Castro ever have arisen to threaten us? There 
is a question, I dare suggest, the Right alone has been 
asking. If the President of the United States desired a 
clue as to the answer to that question he might reflect 
оп a scene enacted threeand-onc-hall years ago at his 
alma mater. It was a brilliant spring evening, and 
Harvard had not found a hall large enough to hold 
the crowd. In the entire history of Harvard, is it said, 


there had not been such a demand for seats. The 
mecting was finally held out of doors. 
10.000 members of the Harvard comm 


And there 
ty — teachers, 
ministrative officials — met in high spirits 
del Castro a thunderous, prolonged, standing 


students, 
to give 
ovation. 

That is why the United States has not been able to 
cope with Castro— (nor before him with Khrushchev, 
or Mao-Tse-tung, or Stalin; or, for that matter, with 
Alger Hiss). We have not understood. The most edu- 
cated men in our midst and the most highly trained 
~induding those who trained the Kennedys — have 
not been understanding the march of history, in which 
Castro is a minor player, though at the moment great 
shafts of light converge on him to give him a spectac- 


MAILER National Association for the Ad- 
vancement of Colored People? No. Was it perhaps a 
Freedom Rider? No. Was it a beatnik or a drug addict? 
No. Wasn't it one of those New York agitators? No, no, 
it wasn’t even a Cuban. The sad fact of the matter was 
that the powerful and villainous man was marris 
the richest woman in the county, came himself from 
excellently good family, owned half the real estate 
around, and was president of the biggest local corpora- 
tion, which was a large company for making plastic 
luncheon plates. He was a man who had been received 
often in the old lady's house. He had even talked to her 
about joining his organization. He was the leader of 
the local council of the John Birch Society. 

Mr. Buckley may say 1 am being unfair. The man 
who puts the new bypass through does not have to be 
the local leader of the John Birch Society, He can 
also be a liberal Republican, or a Democratic mayor, 
a white liberal Southerner, or — and here Mr. Buckley 
might tell my story with pleasure—he could be a 
Federal man. The bypass might be part of a national 
superhighway. The villain might even be a Feder: 
man who is under scrutiny by the Senate Investi 
Committee, the House Un-American Affairs Commit- 
tee, the FBI, and the CIA. It seems not to matter — 
a man can be a fellow-traveler or a reactionary — either 
way those trees get chopped down, and the past is 
unreasonably destroyed. 

The moral well may be that certain distinctions have 
begun to disappear. The average experience today is 
to meet few people who are authentic. Our minds 
belong to one cause, our hands manipulate a machine 
which works against our cause. We are not our own 
masters. We work against ourselves. We suffer from a 
disease. It is a discase which afflicts almost all of us 
by now, so prevalent, insidious and indefinable that 
I choose to call it a plague. 

k somewhere, at some debatable point in his- 
y ible man caught some unspeakable illne: 

of the psyche, that he betrayed some secret of his being 
and so betrayed the future of his species. 1 could 
not begin to trace the beginning of this plague, but 
whether it began carly or late, I think it is accelerating 
now at the most incredible speed, and J would go so 
ar as to think that many of the men and women who 
belong to the Right Wing are more sensitive to this 
dise: n virtually any other people in this country. 
1 think it is precisely this sensitivity which gives power 
to the Right Wing's passions. 

Now this plague appears to us as а sickening of 
our substance, an electrification of our nerves, a dete- 
rioration of desire, an apathy about the future, a detes- 
tation ol the present, an amnesia of the past. Its forms 
are many, its flavor is unforgettable: It is the disease 
which destroys flavor. Its symptoms appear everywher 
in architecture, medicine, in the deteriorated quality 
of labor, the insubstantiality of money, the ravish- 
ment of nature, the impoverishment of food, the 
manipulation of emotion, the emptiness of faith, the 
displacement of sex, the deterioration of language, 
the reduction of philosophy, and the alienation of 
man [rom the product of his work and the results 
of his acts. 

What a modest list! What a happy century. One 


165 


PLAYBOY 


166 


“Look, do те a favor and stop saying, ‘Who needs ИР” 


BUCKLEY als brilliance. When Castro 
arrived at Harvard he had been five long, hectic, 
flamboyant months in power. He had kept the firing 
squads working day and night. He had reduced the 
courts to travesty; he had postponed democratic elec- 
tions until a day infinitely distant; he had long since 
begun to speak stridently about world affairs in the 
distinctive accents of Bolshevism; he had insulted our 
ambassador; his radio stations and newspapers were 
pouring out their abuse of this country and its people. 
‘Things would become worse in the next months, 
and the more offensive Castro became, the madder 
we were all instructed to get at General Trujillo. 
Castro would not get such a reception at Harvard 
today. But today is too late. Today is when President 
Kennedy labors over the problem of how to contain 
Castro, Now, having waited so long, Mr. Kennedy must 
deal with the doctrine promulgated by Khrushchev 
on September 11, which states that “the Soviet Union 
will consider any attempt on the part of the Western 
Hemisphere powers to extend their system to any 
portion of the Communist world as dangerous to our 
peace and safety” — what we have identified at Na- 
tional Review as the Monroevski Doctrine. 

‘The point is that no one in power seems to know 
exactly how to deal with Castro. No one even knows 
how this country is to deal not with Castro — he is 
merely a particularization of the trouble — but with a 
much larger question. We don't know how to deal 
with Harvard University. If Harvard wasn't able to 
spot Castro for what he is earlier than it did, and show 
us how to cope with him, who can? And yet Harvard, 
so dulled ave its moral and intellectual reflexes, 
cheered, while Castro was accumulating the power to 
engross the full, if futile. attention of President Jehn 
Г. Kennedy, B.S., Harvard, 1940, LL.D., 1956, even 
while another of her illustrious sons, Norman Mailer, 
B.A. 1947, was propagandizing for a Committee to 
Hasten the Unmolested Communization of Cuba. 

OF Cuba, the Right Winger concludes, it can truly 
be said that she was betrayed. That melodramatic 
word is not being used only by the founder of the 
John Birch Society. It is the word — “la gran estafa" — 
being used by most of Fidel Castro's closest. former 
sociates, who had thought they were struggling all 
those months in the Sierra Ma for freedom, only 
to find that at a mysterious political level of whose 
existence they were not even aware, arrangements were 
l le to use their hunger lor freedom and reform 
as the engines to create a slave state. They. the earliest 
associates of Castro, were not really to blame. They 
fought bravely, and one must not fault the working 
soldiery for a lack of political sophistication. But there 
were others whose business it was to know who did 
not know, and their ignorance resulted in the betrayal 
of those men who followed Castro blindly, only to find 
themselves to have tunneled out of their cell into a 
torture chamber. 

The United States was caught by surprise? The 
Right Wing suggests there are reasons why we were 
caught by surprise, and that we can never be done 
exploring what those reasons were, and how to avoid 
them in the future. But all inquiries of this nature 
McCarthyite. President Kennedy 
has told us the Government was caught completely by 


are denounced as 


MAILER could speak for hours on each of 
the categories of this plague. But we are here tonight 
to talk about other matters. So I will try to do no 
more than list the symptoms of this plague. 

Even 25 years ago architecture, for example, still 
told one something about a building and what went 
on within it. Today, who can tell the diff 
tween a modern school and a modern hospi 
а modern hospital and а modern prison, or a. prison 
and a housing project? The airports look like luxury 
hotels, the luxury hotels are indistinguishable Irom 
a modern corporation's home office, and the home 
office looks like an air-conditioned underground city 
on the moon. 

In medicine, not so long ago, just before the war, 
there still used to be diseases. Diphtheria, smallpox 
German measles, scarlet lever. Today there are alle 
g i Neuroses, incu 
have made some mechanic 
more mysterious than ever. No one knows quite what 
a virus is, nor an allergy, пог how to begin to compre- 
hend an incurable disease. We have had an avalanche 
ol antibiotics, and now wc have a rampage of small 
epidemics with no name and no distinctive set of 
symptoms. 

Nature is wounded in her fisheries, her forests. Air- 
planes spray insecticides. Species of insects are removed 
from the chain of lile. Crops are poisoned just slightly, 
We grow enormous tomatoes which have no taste. 
Food is raised in artificial circumstances, with artificial 
nutrients, full of alien. chemicals and foreign bodies. 

Our emotions are turned like television dials by men 
in motivational research. Goods аге not advertised 
to speak to our needs but to our secret itch. Our 
secondary schools have a curriculum as interesting as 
the wax paper on breaklast food. Our educational 
system teaches not to think, but to know the answer, 
ith is hallempty. Until the churches can offer an 
explanation for Buchenwald, or Siberia or Hiroshima. 
they are only giving solace to the unimaginative. They 
are neglecting the modern crisis. For all of us live 
today as divided . Our hope for the future must 
be shared with the terror that we may go explodi 
into the heavens at the same instant 10,000,000 other 
souls are being exploded besi Not surprising, 
then, if many people no longer look to s s an act 
whose final purpose is to continue the race. 

Language is drowning in ja 


nce be 
between 


ble diseases. Surgery may 
lvanccs, but sickness 


le us 


эре ises. The mass of men 
begin to have respect not lor those simple ideas which 
arc mysteries, but on the contrary lor those s mple 
ideas which are certitudes. Soon a discussion ol death 
will be considered а betrayal of philosophy. 

Finally, there is a vast alienation of man from re 
sponsibility. One hundred years ago Marx w 
bout the ali ion of man from his tools and the 
product of his work. Today that alienation has gone 
deeper. Today we are alicnated Irom our acts, A 
writer 1 know interviewed Dr. Teller, “the lather 
of the hydrogen bomb." There was g 
test of that bomb soon, “Are you goi 
ked the reporte 
“Who is interested in th 
is just a big ba 


g to be a new 
ng to see it?” 


asked Teller. “Thi 


167 


PLAYBOY 


168 


BUCKLEY surprise by the East Germans 
on August a усаг ago when the great wall was erected. 
1 believe him — though it strikes me as strange that so 


massive an accumulation of standby brick and mortar 
ve escaped even the notice of ou 


could ha CIA. The 
result of our failure to have anticipated that wall has 
been to freeze the dreams of one half of Germany and 
chill the hopes of free men everywhere. In Laos we 
were surprised by the militancy of the thrust from 
the north and the intransigence of the Laotid 
rectionary force; whereupon we yielded, midwifing a 
government whose archetype we saw in Czechoslovakia 
just after the War; we know, but haven't learned, 
that coalition governments become Communist go 
ernments; that who says A, must say В. 

So it has gone, throughout the history of our engage- 
ment with the Communist world; and only the Right, 
and honorable and courageous but unrepresentative 
members of the Left, have had the compassion to 
their voices in sustained protest. "Never te: 
sought to pacify us in 1947: "We have estab- 
lished a policy of containment.” On the 15th annive 
sary of the policy of containment we can peer 90 miles 
off the Florida coast into Soviet-built muzzles. And on 
the other side of the world, in Laos, those who fumble 
trying to define the New Frontier learn that it has 
crept 500 miles closer to us since Mr. Kennedy under- 
took to set this nation to moving again. 

It is said of the American Right Wing that we do 
not trust our leaders. Nothing could be closer to the 
truth. Our leaders are not Communists, or pro- 
Communists, and are not suspected of being so, not- 
withstanding the gleeful publicity that has been given 
to the aberrations of a single conspicuous member of 
the Right Wing who made a series of statements that 
I would put up alongside some of the political com- 
mentary of Herbert Matthews, Gore Vidal, and 
Norman Mailer, as qualifying for the most foolish 
political prose published during 1961. The Right 
Wing, who are so often charged with wishing to escape 
from reality, desire in fact 10 introduce reality to our 
ideologized brothers on the Left; far from fleeing from 
world responsibilities, we wish to acknowledge that 
the weight of the world's problems does in fact lie 
squarely on the shoulders of our leaders; and draw 
attention to the fact that ders have been 
losing the world war; and, insofar as a great many 
human beings are personally concerned, have lost it 
already. If you were a Cuban who believed in free- 
dom, would you trust the leaders of America? Or if 
you lived in East Berlin? Or Laos; or China, for ihat 
matter? Our leaders are not Communists, but they 
have consistently failed to grasp the elementary logic 
of nuclear blackmail, with the result that we have 
found ourselves without any strategy whatever — not 
even enough strategy to enforce a doctrine we felt 
capable of enforcing 140 years 

‘The implicit logic of those of our leaders who de- 
cline to fight for Cuba is the logic of defeat. Ultimately 
their arguments must, by logical necessity, come down 
to surrender. And indeed t exactly is the naked 
word that is finally being used today by a few brave 
cowards. “For the first time in America,” Mr. Joseph 
Alsop wrote a year ago, “one or two voices are begin- 


these J 


MAILER Face to face with a danger they 
cannot name, there are still many people on the Right 
Wing who sense that there seems to be some almost 
palpable conspiracy to tear life away from its roots. 
Phere is a biological rage at the heart of much Right 
Wing polemic. They feel as if somebody, or some group 
— in New York no doubt — are trying to poison the 
very earth, air and water of their existence. In their 
Mind, this plague is associated with collectivism, and 
I am not so certain they are wrong. The essence of 
biology seems to be challenge and response, risk and 
survival, war and the lessons of war. It may be biologi- 
cally true. that life cannot have beauty without its 
companion — danger. Collectivism promises security. It 
spreads security the way а knife spreads margarine. 
Collectivism may well choke the pores of life. 

But there is a contradiction here. Not all of the 
Right Wing alter all is individual and strong. Far 
from it. The ht Wing knows better than 1 would 
know how many of them are collectivists in their own 
hearts, how many detest questions and want answers, 
loathe paradox, and live with a void inside themselves, 
a void of fear, a void of fear for the future and for 
what is unexpected, which fastens upon Communists 
as equal, one to one, with the Devil. The Right Wing 
often speaks of freedom when what it desires is iron 
law, when what it really desires is collectivism managed 
by itself. IF the Right Wing is reacting to the plague, 
all too many of the powerful people on the Right 
—the presidents of more than a few corporations in 
California, for mple re helping to disseminate 
the plague. I do not know if this applies to Senator 
Goldwater who may be an honorable and upright man, 
but 1 think it can do no harm to take a little time 
to study the application of his ideas. 

Asa thoroughgoing conservative, the Senator be- 
lieves in increasing personal liberty by enlarging cco- 
nomic liberty. He is well known for his views. He 
would reduce the cost of public wellare and diminish 
the present power of the unions, he would lower the 
income tax, dispense with subsidies to the farmer, 
decentralize the Federal Government and € states! 
rights back to the states, he would limit the Govei 
ment’s spending, and he would discourage any inter- 
ference by Washington in the education of the young. 
H is a complete, comprehensive program. One may 
agree with it or disagree. But no doubt it is a working 
program. The reasonableness of this program is at- 
tractive. It might even reduce the depredations of the 
plague. There is just one trouble with it. И does not 


stop here. Senator Goldwater takes one further step. 
He would carry the cold war to the Soviet Union, he 
would withdraw diplomatie. recognition, he would 


recognize, | quote, th 

“©. M our objective is victory over communism, 

we must achieve superiority in all of the weapons 

military, as well as political and economic — tha 

may be useful in reaching that goal. Suc h 

costs money, but so long as the money is spent wisely 
nd efficiently, I would spend it. I am not in favor 

of economizing on the nation's salety." 

It is the sort of statement which inspires a novelist’s 
imagination long enough to wonder what might hap- 
pen to the Senator's program if he were elected Pres 
dent. For we may be certain he is sincere in his desire 


program 


BUCKLEY ning to be heard, arguing that 
what ought to be done is to surrender.’ 

"Mr. Kennedy says Berlin is not negotiable,” writes 
Mr. John Crosby in his column. “Why isn’t it? Why 
isn’t anything negotiable rather than thermonuclear 
war?...Are we going to wipe out two-and-a-half billion 
years of slow biological improvement in a thermo- 
nuclear war? Over what — Berlin? 1 agree with Nehru 
that to go to war under any circumstances for any- 
tang at all in our world [presumably excepting Goa] 
in our time is utter absurdity. . . . I certainly think 
Berlin is negotiable and, as a matter of fact, Khruschev 
is not even asking very much. . . . And after all, Com- 
munism . . . is not that bad, and someday we're going 
to have to face up to that. . . ." And Mr. Kenneth 
Tynan, the English critic, agrees. “Better Red than 
dead,” he writes, “seems an obvious doctrine for any- 
one nol consumed by a death wish: I would rather live 
on my knees than die on my knees." 

Well, assuming it is death toward which we are 


MAILER o achieve superiority in all the 
weapons, including such ideological weapons as arriv- 
ing first on the moon, But what of the cost? There is 
one simple and unforgettable figure. More than 60 
cents out of every dollar spent by the Government 
is spent on military security already. Near to two 
thirds of ever - And our national budget in 1963 
will be in the neighborhood of $90.000,000,000. ТЕ we 
add what will be spent on foreign aid, the figure will 
come to more than 75 cents in every dollar. 

Yet these expenditures have not given us a clear 
superiority to the Soviet Union. On the contrary 
nator Goldwater points out that we must still achieve 
superiority, Presumably, he would increase the amount 
of money spent on defense. This, I suppose, would 
not hinder him from reducing the income tax, nor 
would it force him to borrow further funds. He could 
regain any moneys lost in this reduction by taking 
the money from wellare and education, that is he 
could il he didn't increase our defense efforts by more 


+ SEMA — 


169 


PLAYBOY 


170 


BUCKLEY headed as a result of our deter- 
mination to stay free, let it be said that Mr. Ty 
would not need to die on his knees, but rather ading 
up. Which is how those of his ancestors died before 
Runnymede, at Agincourt and Hastings, at Dunkirk, 
who fought for the freedom of their descendants to 
exhibit their moral idiocy. Mr. Crosby advances as a 
substitute for the slogan “Give me liberty or give me 
death” the slogan: “John Crosby is too young to die." 
Let them live. There remain impenetrable comers of 
the Soviet Union where Messrs, Crosby and Tynan 
could store up their 2500 calories per day and remain 
absolutely free from the hounds of radioactivity 
not from the hounds of Bolshevism. But they will 
not go: they would have us all go: and they are right 
in suggesting that their logic, because it is in greater 
harmony with the inexplicit premises of American 
foreign policy over the years, will prevail. It is at 
odds only with official rhetoric, which is all wind - 
the tiger Schlesinger typing out a 1000-word roar once 
a month for the White House Department on Releas: 
ing the Bellicose Energies of the Ma The implicit 
cogency of surrender will, they leel sure, overcome 
the defiant rhetoric, and ease us into a course of 
condusive appeasement. It is implied by Messrs. 
Crosby and ‘Tynan that the Right Wing seeks a war. 
But in fact we seek to avoid war: And the surest way 
void war is to assert our willingness to wage it, 
dox that surely is not so complex as to elude 
the understanding of professional students of the 
drama. The appeasers and collaborators in our midst 
seek to pour water in our gunpowder, and lead into 
the muzzle of our cannon, and leave us defenseless in 
the face of the enemy's musketry. There is no licit 
use for a nuclear bomb, they are saying in effect, save 
possibly to drop a small one on the headquarters of 
the John Birch Society. But these are in fact the w 
mongers, lor they whet the appetite of the enemy as 
surcly as the stripteaser, by her progressive revelations, 
whets the appetite of her clients. “However 1 survey 
the future,” concludes Kenneth Tynan, * 
10 me nothing noble" in dying. "I want my wife to 
have another child, and I want to see that child learn 
to walk." Those in the West of civilized mind and 
heart are engaged in trying to make just that possible, 
the birth of another child to Kenneth Tynan, always 
assuming he has left the virility to procreate one. 
n is what we conserv 
ibout us. Disintegration and acquiescence in it. T] 
community accepts calmly and fatalistically the 
march ol events of the past years. History will remark 
that in 1945, victorious and omnipotent, the United 
States declined to secure for Poland the rights over 
which a great world war had broken out; and that a 
mere 16 years later — Who says B, must say C — we 
broke into a panicked flight from the responsibilities 
of the Monroe Doctrine, which we had hurled as a 
fledgling republic in the face of the omnipotent powers 
of the Old World 140 years ago, back when America 
was a great nation, though not a great power. It is the 
neral disintegration of a shared understanding of 
ning of the world and our place in it that made 
ı liberalism possible, and American conserva- 
lism inevitable. 

For the American Right is based on the assumption 


“there seems 


MAILER than 10 percent, for if he did i 
we would be spending more already than the mone 
we now spend on welfare. And of course that part 
of the population which would be most affected. by 
the cessation of welfare, that is, so to speak, the impov- 
erished part of the population, might not be happy. 
And it is not considered wise to have a. portion of thc 
populace unhappy when one is expanding one's ability 
t0 go to war, unless one wishes to put them in 
uniform. Perhaps Goldwater might not reduce the 
expenditures on welfare during this period. He might 
conceivably increase them a little in order to show 
that over the short period, during the crisis, during 
the arms buildup while we achieve superiority over 
the Russians, a conservative can take just as good care 
of the masses as a liberal. Espcci Пу since we n 
assume the Russians would be tr 
ority over 
superiority over them, so that an arms and munitions 
competition would be taking place and there would 
be enough money spent for everyone. 

But let me move on to education where the problem 
is more simple. To achieve superiority over the Russians 
there, we simply need more technicians, engincers and 
scientists, We also have to build the laboratories in 
which to teach them. Perhaps, most reluctantly, just 
for the duration ol the crisis, which is to say for the 
duration of his period in office, President Goldwater 
уе to increase the Federal budget for educa- 
would be contrary to his principles. But 
perhaps he could recover some ol those expenditures 
sking the farmer to dispense with subsidies. The 
rmer would not mind if additional Government 
funds were allocated to education and wellare, and he 
was not included. The farmer would not mind il the 
corporations of America, General Dynamics and 
seneral Motors, General Electric, United States Steel 
ad AT&T. were engaged in rather large new defense 
contracts. No, the farmer would not mind relinquish- 
ing his subsidy. Not at all. Still, to keep him as happy 
veryone else Goldwater might increase his subsidy. 
Just for the duration of the crisis. Just for the duration 
of enlightened conservatism in office. It would not 
matter about the higher income tax, the increased 
urm subsidies, the enlarged appropriation for welfare, 
the new magnified role of the Federal Government in 
education, President Goldwater could still. give the 
states back their rights. He would not have to integrate 
the schools down South, He could drive the Russians 
out of the Congo, while the White Councils were clos- 
ing the white colleges in order not to let a black man 
in. Yes, he could. For the length of a 20-minute speech 
Phoenix, Arizona, he could, But you know and 1 
know and he knows what he would do — he would 
do what President Eisenhower did, He would send 
troops in to 
would do t 
ol the Congo. 

Poor President. Goldwater. At I 
down on the power of the unions. He could 
Right-to-Work act. Indeed he could. He could c 
the war to the Russians, he could achieve superiority 
while the unions of America were giving up the 
power and agreeing not to strike. Yes. Yes. OF course 
he could. Poor President Goldwater. He might have 
to end by passing a law which would make it i al 


g to achieve superi- 
s at the same time we are trying to achieve 


e 


tegrate the schools of the South. He 


if he wanted to keep the Russians out 


t he could cut 


ss а 


"Can't you read?” 


171 


PLAYBOY 


172 


BUCKLEY па however many things there 
are that we don’t know, there are some things we do 
know; on the assumption that some questions are 
closed, and that our survival as a nation depends on 
our acting bravely on those assumptions, without 
whose strength we are left sounding like Eisenhower, 
which is to say organically unintelligible; rhetoricizing 
like Kennedy, which is to leave it to Madison Avenue 
to make nonaction act; or wi g like Mailer, which is 
to write without "beginning to know what one is, or 
what one wants" — the criticism of Mailer made by his 
friend, my enemy, Gore Vidal. 

То win this one, ladies and gentlemen, it will take 
nerve, and take courage, and take a certain kind of 
humility, the humility that makes man acknowledge 
the demands of duty. But it takes also a quiet and un- 
shakable pride, the pride of knowing that with all its 
faults, with all its grossness, with all its appalling in- 
justices, great and small, we live here in the West 

nder a small ray of light, while over there there is 
blackness, total, impenetrable. “You have to care about 
other people to share your perception with them,” 
Norman Mailer has written. But nowadays, he con- 
fesses, “there are too many times when I no longer give 
а good goddamn for most of the human race." It is 
tempting to observe that nothing would better serve 
the good ends of the goddamn human race than 
to persuade Mr. Mailer to neglect us; but I shall resist 
the temptation, and predict instead that those liber- 
ating perceptions that Mr. Mailer has been wrestling 
to formulate for, lo, these many years, those ideas 
that catapult him to the Presidency, are, many 
of them, like the purloined letter, lying about loose 
in the principles and premises, the organon, of the 


“What say we go up to my place and 


break some resolutions . . . 


MAILER ever to pass a Right-to-Work law. 
Under Goldwater, the American people would never 
have to be afraid of creeping socialism. They would 
just have state conservatism, creeping state сопѕег- 
vatism. Yes, there are conservatives like the old lady 
who wished to save the trees and there are conservatives 
who talk of saving wees in order to get the power 
to cut down the trees. 

So long as there is a cold war, there cannot be a 
conservative administration in America. There cannot 
for the simplest reason. Conservatism depends upon 
a huge reduction in the power and the budget of the 
c Government. Indeed, so long as there is а 
cold war, there are no polities of consequence in 
America. It matters less each year which party holds 
the power. Before the enormity of defense expendi- 
tures, there is no alternative to an ever-increasing 
welfare state. It can be an interesting welfare state 
like the present one, or a dull welfare state like Presi- 
dent ^ in even be a totally repressive 


isenhower's. It 
welfare state like President Goldwater's well might 
be. But the conservatives might recognize that greater 
economic liberty is not possible so long as one is build- 
ing a greater war machine. To pretend that both can 
cal is hypocritical beyond belief. The conservatives 
are then merely mouthing impractical ideas which 
they presume may bring them power. They are suffi- 
ciently experienced to know that only liberalism can 
lead America into total war without popular violence, 
or an active underground. 

There is an alternative. Perhaps it is ill-founded. 
Perhaps it is impractical. 1 do not know enough to 
say. 1 fear there is no one in this country who knows 
enough to say. Yet I think the time may be approach- 
ing for a great debate on this alternative. L say that at 
least this alternative is no more evil and по more vision- 
ary than Barry Goldwater's promise of a conservative 
America with superiority in all the weapons. So I say — 
in modesty and in doubt, I say — the alternative may be 
to end the cold war. The cold war has been an instru- 
ment of mcgalomaniacal delusion to this country. It is 
the poison of the Right Wing. It is the poison they feed 
themselves and it is the poison they feed the nation. 
Communism may be evil incarnate, but it is a most 
complex evil which seems less intolerable today than 
it did under Stalin. I for one do not understand an 
absolute evil which is able to ameliorate its own evil. 
I say an evil which has captured the elements of the 
good is complex. To insist communism is a simple 
phenomenon can only brutalize the minds of the 
American people. Already, it has given this country 
over to the power of every huge corporation and or- 
ganization i a. It has helped to create an 
America run by committees. It has stricken us with 
secret waste and hatred. It has held back the emer- 
gence of an America more alive and more fantasti 
than any America yet created. 

So I say: End the cold war. Pull back our bound- 
aries to what we can defend and to what wishes to 
be defended. There is one dread advantage to atomic 
war. It enables one powerful nation to be the equal 
of many nations. We do not have to hold every loose 
piece of real estate on carth to have security. Let 
communism come to those countries it will come to. 
Let us not use up our substance trying to hold onto 


BUCKLEY movement the Left finds it so 
fashionable to ridicule. 

There, in all that mess, he will, for instance, run 
into the concept of duty, which presupposes the valid- 
ity of nonpersonalized standards. Why this retreat from 
duty? Because our leaders are, when all is said and 
done, scared. “We will take Berlin,” Khrushchev said 
to an American cabinet officer, “and you will do 
nothing about it.” Why won't we do anything about it? 
Because we might get hurt — as individuals, we might 
suffer, and so we rush into the great comforting bosom 
of unreality, who strokes our locks and tells us nothing 
will happen to us if only we will negotiate, keep send- 
ing lots of foreign aid to India, lots more sit-ins to 
Georgia, and lots more McCarthyites to Coventry. 

The flight from reality by those who are scared . . . 
“I have only one life to give for my count the 
liberal says, “and my country isn't worth it.” “Could 
you imagine yourself living happily in a Communist 
society?” the interviewer recently asked C. P. Snow, 
the liberals’ Renaissance Man. “T think so," answered 
Sir Charles. “If you had to, if somebody said you've 
got lo live in America or live in Russia for the rest 
of your days, which would you choose?” “Well, that 
is very difficult. I think, to be honest, I could be 
very happy in either of them.” 

Members of the Right Wing could not. 

The true meaning of the American Right Wing, 
Mr. Mailer, is commitment, a commitment on the 
basis of which it becomes possible to take measure- 
ments. That is true whether in respect of domestic 
policy — about which more during the last half of this 
program — or foreign policy. For those on the radical 
Left with Norman Mailer, and for so many Americans 
on the moderate Left, the true meaning of our time 
is the loss of an operative set of values—what one 
might call an expertise in living. For them there is 
no ground wire, and without a ground the voltage 
fluctuates wildly, wantonly, chasing after the imme- 
diate line of least resistance — which, in Cuba is 
Do Nothing. For those, like Norman Mailer, who 
have cut themselves off from the Great Tradition, one 
observes that it is not truly important that a Laos has 
been dismembered, or that a great wall has gone up 
through Berlin, or that a Cuba has been communized: 
Mailer's world is already convulsed, at a much higher 
level, and he has no ear for such trivia as these. For 
he views the world as groaning under the weight of 
unmanageable paradoxes, so that Euclidean formu- 
lations, Christian imperatives, Mosaic homilies become, 
all of them, simply irrelevant; worse, when taken ѕегі- 
ously, these are the things that get in the way of his own 
absorption with himself, in the way of that apocalyptic 
orgasm which he sees as the end objective of indi- 
vidual experience. 

How strange it is that all the Establishment’s schol- 
ars, all the Establishment’s men, have not in the last 
half dozen years written a half dozen paragraphs that 
truly probe the true meaning of the American Right 
Wing. They settle instead for a frenzied, paranoid 
denunciation. Indeed the Left has discovered that the 
threat is really internal. There is no enormity too 
grotesque or too humorless to win their wide-eyed 
faith. I have seen some of them listen respectfully to 
the thesis that people in America belong to the Right 


MAILER nations which are poor, underde- 
veloped, and bound to us only by the depths of their 
hatred for us. We cannot equal the effort the Commu- 
nists make in such places. We are not dedicated in 
that direction, We were not born to do that. We have 
had our frontier already. We cannot be excited to 
our core, our historic core, by the efforts of new 
underdeveloped nations to expand their frontiers. 
No, we are better engaged in another place, we are 
engaged in making the destiny of Western man, a 
destiny which seeks now to explore out beyond the 
moon and in back into the depths of the soul. With 
some small fraction of the money we spend now on 
defense we can truly defend ourselves and Western 
Europe, we can develop, we can become extraordina 
we can goa little further toward completing the heroic 
vision of Western man. Let the Communists flounder 
in the countries they acquire. The more countries 
they hold, the less supportable will become the con- 
tradictions of their ideology, the more bitter will grow 
the divisions in their internal interest, and the more 
enormous their desire to avoid a war which could 
only destroy the economies they will have developed 
at such vast labor and such vast waste. Let it be 
their waste, not ours. Our mission may be not to 
raise the level of minimum subsistence in the world 
so much as it may be to show the first features and 
promise of that incalculable renaissance men may 
someday enter. So let the true war begin. It is not 
a war between West and East, between capitalism and 
communism, or democracy and totalitarianism; it is 
rather the deep war which has gone on for six centuries 
in the nature of Western man, it is the war between 
the conservative and the rebel, between authority and 


“No, you cannot be bitten by Richard 
Burton instead of the snake!” 


173 


PLAYBOY 


174 


BUCKLEY wing out of resentment over 
their failure to get their sons into Groton; and I 
remember the rumor that swept the highest counsels 
of the ADA and the Washington Post in 1954 that 
Senator McCarthy was accumulating an arsenal of 
machine guns and rifles in the cellar of the Senate 
Office Building. .. . And, of course, we all know that 
they continue to believe in Santa Claus. 

“Therefore they took them and beat them, and 
besmeared them with dirt, and put them into the 
cage, that they might be made а spectacle to all the 
men of the fair.” And the charge was brought against 
them by the principal merchants of the City: “That 
they were enemies to and disturbers of their trade; 
that they had made commotions and divisions in the 
town.” Thus John Bunyan wrote about the town of 
Vanity, and how it greeted those in the city who came 
to buy the truth. 

"Lam frankly all but ignorant of theology,” Norman 
Mailer writes. If he wants to learn something about 
the true nature of the American Right Wing, 1 recom- 
mend to him the works lents Matthew, Mark, 
Luke and John. 


The foregoing statements by Messrs. Mailer and Buch- 
ley, written exclusively for PLAYBOY, were subsequently 
read by them as preambles to а debate on the Amer- 
ican Right Wing today, a transcript of which (also a 
PLAYBOY exclusive) will appear in our next issue. 


“You call this ‘Just a little present?!” 


MAILER instinct, between the two views of 
God which collide in the mind of the West, the cere- 
monious conservative view which believes that if God 
allows one man to be born wealthy and another poor, 
we must not tamper unduly with this conception of 
place, this form of society created by God, for it is 
possible the poor man is more fortunate than the rich, 
since he may be judged less severely on his retu 
to eternity. That is the conservative view and it is 
not a mean nor easy view to deny, 

The rebel or the revolutionary might argue, how- 
ever, that the form of society is not God's creation, 
but a result of the war between God and the Devil, 
that this form is no more than the line of the E 
field upon which the Devil distributes wealth ag; 
God's best intention. So man must serve as God's 
agent, seeking to shift the wealth of our universe in 
such a way that the talent, creativity and strength of 
the future, dying now by dim dull deaths in every 
poor man alive, will come to take its first breath, will 
show us what a mighty rena ncc is locked in the 
unconscious of the dumb. It is the argument which 
claims that no conservative can ever be certain those 
imbued with the value ol trad n did not give more 
devotion to their garden, their stable, their kennel, 
the livery of their servant and the orato 1 style of 
their clergyman than God intended. Which conserva- 
tive indeed can be certain that if his dass once em- 
bodied some desire of the Divine Will, that it has 
not also now incurred God's displeasure alter all these 
centuries of organized Christianity and enormous 
Christian greed? Which cons e can swear that 
it was not his class who gave the world a demonstration 
of greed so complete, an expropriation and spoilation 
of backward lands and simple people so avid, so 
vicious, so insane, a class which finally gave such suck 
to the Devil, that the most backward primitive in the 
darkest jungle would sell the grave and soul of his 
dearest ancestor lor a machine with which to fight back? 

"That is the war which has meaning, that great and 
mortal debate between rebel and conservative where 
cach would argue the other is an agent of the Devil. 
That is the war we can welcome, the war we can expect 
if the cold war will end. It is the war which will take 
life and power from the statistical congelations of the 
Center and give it over to Left and to Right, it is 
the war which will teach us our meaning, where we 
will discover ourselves and whether we good and 
where we are not, so it is the war which will give the 
West what is great within it, the war which gives birth 
to art and furnishes strength to fight the plague. Art, 
free inquiry and the liberty to speak may be the only 
cure against the plague. 

But first, 1 say, first there is another debate America 
must have. Do we become totalitarian or do we end 
the cold war? Do we accept the progressive collectivi- 
tion of our lives which eternal cold war must bring, 
or do we gamble on the chance that we have arma- 
ment enough already to be secure and to be free, 
nd do we seek therefore to discover ourselves, and 
Nature willing, discover the conservative or rebellious 
temper of these tortured times? And when we are done, 
will we know truly who has spoken within us, the 
Lord, or the 


[ 


MAN'S CREDO 


ON VICE 

OF ALL THE DEIF 
grace this world, 1 
most pernicious, the most to be dr 
No evils сап be compared with its 
nd malignant spirit. Bigotry consist 
being obstinately and permanently at- 
ched to our own opinions. The habit- 
al critic is essentially an obstructionist. 
He is a stranger to constructive and help- 
ful methods. Personal opini has be- 
come his ruler and sclf-exaggeration his 
monitor. His views are to his perverted 
sense synonymous with absolute right. 

лмьгпох is the original of vices, the 
mother of hypocrisy, the parent of envy, 
the engineer of deceit. 

THE GENERAL RUN of men sink in virtue 
as they rise in fortune. Give a man the 
necessitics of life, and he wants the 
conveniences. Give him the conven- 
iences, and he craves for the luxuri 
rant him the luxuries, and he si; 
the elegances. Let him the ele: 
and he yearns for the follies. Give 1 
1 together, and he complains that he 
been cheated both in the price and 
quantity of the articles. 

HUMAN NATURE Will someday come face- 
to-face with human destiny — what an ex- 
plosion there will bel 

ON LIVING WITH MEANING 

to the grave, in his 
his concep- 
tions of the world, and of himself, the 
man of modern times struggles through a 
ndless complications. Nothing 
y longer; neither thought nor 
action; not even dying. 

I HAVE ALWAYS BELIEVED that the man 
who has begun to live more seriously 
within begins to live more simply with- 
ош. In an age of extravagance and 
waste, | wish г, could show to the world 
how few the real wants of humanity 

1 WOULD RATHER be able to appreciate 
things 1 can't 
Гат not able to appre 

IT'S AMAZING to me how many precious 
moments are wasted cedless self- 
indulgence, in frivolous pursuits, in idle 
conversation, in uc and uscless rev- 
clry. To widen your life without deep- 
ening it is only to weaken 

you MUST ACT. Inactive contemplation 
is a dangerous condition for the mind. 
We should not dream away our lives. 

BETTORS AND GAMBLERS usually die poor. 
But even where young men have made 
lucky stroke, the result is too often a 

n They neglect the necessary, 
t Гого. The habit of industry 
Work becomes distasteful, 
for chances 


imple 
ot please 


er come, 
ARE ALWAYS SEEKING shortcuts 
to happiness. There are no shortcuts. 

A GREAT STEP 
learned that 
between lik; 


made when а man has 
there no connection 


g a thing and doing it. A 


(continued from page 121) 


characteristic of great writers is their 
intense earnestness. Their lives are often 
sad and cheerless, but they 
idle. Whatever they do. whether. in 
religion, politics, education or work for 
daily bread, they do with all their might. 


are n 


er 


ON SOLITUDE 


SOMETIM! 
iness, 
BUT COURAGEOUS MEN h 
forced solitude to account. in executing 
works of great importance. It soli- 
tude that the passion for perfection best 
s itself. The soul communes with 
loncliness until i 


s 1 WRITE all day from lone- 


ve often turned. 


to be happy, he must have more time 
to himself. 

BUT WHETHER A MAN PROFITS by soli- 
tude or not will mainly depend upon his 
owi ning and. cha 
ter. While, in tured man, soli- 
tude will make the pure heart purer, in 
the small-natured man it will only serve 
to make the ha t still harder. For 
though solitude may be the nurse of 
great spirits, it is the torment of small 
ones, 

pur A wRITER should never live apart 
from the world when he is not writing, 

I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN more interested in 
men and women than in ideas. 1 am 
bored by movies, television and theater; 
though gifted raconteurs make poor 
writers, 1 would rather talk to anybody 
or listen to anybody talking. 

MANY WILL SEEK your friendship while 
you have much to When you песа 
to receive, the number of your friends 
will be d hed, but their quality will 
be improved. 


ac- 


ON LOVE 


s the universal creator of man 
. Love is the unive! 


LOVE 
and the un 


instinct. Love enlarges the scope of the 
mind, enhances the mental faculties, clar- 
ifics emotion and gives poise to enthusi- 
asm. Love lives and increases her store 


by giving. Her genius is in sharing all 
that she possesses and all that she is. 
Love is reciprocal. To understand. an- 


other is onc of life's richest bles: 
to be understood by another is perhaps 
love's sweetest and most satisfying gilt. 
Love gives without thinking of return. 
Love is honest and patient, thou 
bout her be faithless, d nd tur- 
bulent. Love recognizes neither ti 
space nor outward separation. She multi- 
plies joys, displaces friction and discord 
with harmony, judges not by appi 
тсе. the ultimate of existence, 
the principle of brotherhood, the essence 
of character, the basis of fellowship. Love 
looks tor the good everywhere and under 
all conditions, and finds it. Love rew 
the plan of the universe and the d 
acter of a man at a single glance. And 
religion is simply love lived. 


ngs, and 


ove 


ON PRESENT AND FUTURE 
DAY we are not in any backwater of 
history, but on the top of the tide and 
moving with a sweep that is irresistible. 
The great days are not gone; the great 
days are here, and greater days are 


'RFASED FACILITIES for travel and 
the growth of surplus wealth annually 
send a great steam of visitors up and 
down the earth. Everybody goes every- 
where, and is likely to come back home 
a broader and worthicr man, with some- 
what less antipathy to his fellows, and 
а deeper ation of the truth that 
his own highest welfare is incxtricably 
bound up with the whole race to which 
belongs. However ntly, the heart of 
humanity is beginning to beat as one. 


reali 


“Mind if I sing you a song of the open road?” 


175 


PLAYBOY 


S0 I'M LATE а COUPLE Days! 
ANNIE, SWEETHEART | HAVE GIFTS 
FOR. YOU-- PERFUMES FROM THE 
CONTINENT-- PEARLS FROM THE 
ORIENT--.JUST LET ME GET 
THESE THINGS OFF ~- AND — 


176 


|S WE MAKE READY TO WEARILY RING OUT 
THE OLD AND HOPEFULLY RING IN THE 


SANTA CLAUS! -- wa THIS IS 
& SURPRISE! WHAT EVER ARE 
YOU DOING HERE TONIGHT? 


HOHOHO, ANNIE FANNY 
IT'S A VERY SPECIAL NIGHT 
TONIGHT A HOLIDAY NIGHT! 


DO YOU KNOW WHY 1 
SHOULD NOT COME BEARING 
GIFTS ON THIS NIGHT? 


Now JUST & 
MINUTE! 1 DONT ANNIE! 
CARE IF YOU ARE DON'T YOU 


| SANTA CLAUS! YOU é gh RECOGNIZE 


BUTTON UP AND 


GET OUT OF HERE! 


annie? Y 
IS SOME- 
ONE IN 
HERE WITH 
You? 


LOOK, RUTHIE! IT'S My DADDY 
BIGBUCKS! ISN'T IT WONDERFUL 2 
HE'S COME HOME FOR THE 
HOLIDAYS! HE ISN'T MY REAL DADDY, 
BUT THAT'S WHAT | CALL HIM. 


s 


ANNIE! SHAME - SHAME, STANDING 

AROUND LIKE THAT IN FRONT OF 

YOUR DADDY BIGBUCKS, BESIDES... 

YOU'VE GOT TOGET INTO YOUR 

COSTUME AND GET READY FOR 
OUR COSTUME PARTY! 


THERE! NOW РМ DRESSED!-..DO 
YOU LIKE MY COSTUME, DADDY? 
1 CALL IT "THE NEW FRONTIER"! 
OH, DADDY! WHY DON'T YOU 


CH, MY! I'M SO 

EXCITED | FOR- 

GOT THAT I'M NOT 
DRESSED! 


NO, ANNIE. PLL COME 
FREE 


COME WITH MY 
ASSISTANT--THE WASP! 


THE waspe! YES-- AS A MATTER OF FACT, 


HERE? BRRR- 
HE'S SO SILENT 
“YOU NEVER KNOW 
~ HE'S AROUND, 


THE WASP HAS BEEN HERE ALL 
THE TIME ~- SILENT IMPERTURBABLE 
~ BEHIND YOUR DRESSING 


SCREEN. 


AH, THERE NOW, WASP! 
YOU CAN COME OUT NOW, 
WASP! COME ON OUT OF 

IT, WASP! SNAP OUT OF 


HE WAS THERE ALL THE 
TIME | WAS DRESSING? 
> OH, EXCUSE ME, 
DADDY! THE GUESTS 
ARE ARRIVING! x 


177 


PLAYBOY 


178 


i] THE WASP HELPFUL, "М SURE~- 


OH, DADDY. IT'S THE FRESH f RING A 
YOUNG COLLEGE KIDS FROM | YEAR, E 
DOWN THE STREET TRYING к= 

ТО CRASH OUR PaRTY— Jf can we LIKE 
BORROW A CUP OF 
MARTINI, NEIGHBOR?, 


WHY INCUR THE LAWS DELAYS? THE WASP CAN 
HANDLE YOUR FRESH YOUNG COLLEGE KIDS, 


1 HAVE WORLDS TO 
CONQUER, SWEETHEART, 
BUT DON'T LET MY BUSINESS 
INTERFERE. YOU WILL FIND 


GET IN HERE? 


THE MASTER. 
REGRETS THE 
INCONVENIENCE 
BUT HE MUST 
USE THE ROOM 
TEMPORARILY! 


A PERFECT AID IN AFFAIRS 
OF THIS SOKT-- SOFT SPOKEN 
AND WELL- BRED = HE'S A 

GENTLEMAN OF GOOD TASTE, 


HEY! самт 1 | 


LIFE, ONE HELPS ONE'S SELF! — SAY THERE, BOYS: 
COME WITH ME, I'D LIKE YOU 10 MEET THE WASP, 


OH, DON'T YOU JUST LOVE MY 
DADDY? HE'S SO MASTERFUL! 


f ANNIE, SWwEETHEART-- DON'T MIND 
МЕ! I'LL HAVE ТО CONDUCT SOME 
BUSINESS FROM A CORNER OF 
THE APARTMENT ~- PHONE CALLS, 
ETC,- SO JUST GO ABOUT YOUR. 


SAY, ANNIE Ñ 
WHERE'S BENTON 
BATTBARTON 2... HE 
JUST ARRIVED DRESSED 


AS A FRESH YOUNG 
COLLEGE KID. í WORK, THE WASP WILL HELP YOU, 
A 
4 


BUT ! WAS INVITED 


I'M A TIGER, FIGHTING FOR 
HERE BY ANNIE — 


SURVIVAL IN A JUNGLE, SOME- 
TIMES MY METHODS REQUIRE 
FORCE --- EVEN KILLING ~- BUT 
ALWAYS IN GOOD TASTE, MY 
DEAR, SO DON'T MIND МЕ! 
“НЕШО, BERLIN? NOW REGARDS 
THAT SHIPMENT OF BIGBUCKS 
WALL-BUILDING BLOCKS — 


MY MASTER 

OFFERS A 
THOUSAND 
APOLOGIES FOR 
THIS DISCOMFORT, 


p - FORGIVE THE MASTER FOR. 
HELLO- BILLIE? ЅАҮ-. САМ YOU USE ANY- V Foe? N REQUISITIONING а SMALL 
T MORE OF THOSE FERTILIZER TANKS?--NO | | was PAID WHAT CORNER OF THE APARTMENT 
MORE, KIDDO2... | UNDERSTAND — IN FULL, BUT KIND OF ] TO CONDUCT HIS BUSINESS -~ AND 
KNOW 1 ому ү PARTY | PLEASE DO NOT LET HIM DISTRACT 
SHIPPED HALF oF J| 1579152 Д YOU FROM CONDUCTING YOUR 


SMITH? COSTUME PARTY HERE — 


LISTEN! DID 

осе E z NO REFUNDS! 
WE'VE GOT TO GFA | SHOULDN'T EVEN 
UNLOAD THOSE BE TALKING TO 
JETS BEFORE 4 vou! AFTER ALL, 
THEY BECOME К 

OBSOLETE, 


ANNIE THIS IS TERRIBLE! THE GUESTS ARE POURING 
IN AND YOUR DADDY IS USING UP THE WHOLE HOW DARLING! SOMEONE DRESSED 
APARTMENT! ALL WE HAVE IS THE KITCHEN! 4 LIKE TARZAN AND JANE! 


LOOK! LOOK, RUTHIE! OH WHAT FUN!- SOME- 
ONE DRESSED JUST LIKE MARSHAL DILLON! 


MAH NAME'S 
RALPHIE TOWZER 
MA'AM HAYE GUN 

WILL TRAVELT 


HOW MARVELOUS! SOMEONE DRESSED | OH, HOW PRECIOUS! GUNS THAT 
ST LIKE THE 1, UNTOUCHABLES! 


MA'M ~~ WE'RE WITH THE 
А кв. 


PLAYBOY 


180 


OH, RUTHIE! LOOK AH, THE LITTLE MISSY'S BIG HEART IS MASTER = IT IS TIME FOR US TO LEAVE ~ 
AT THIS ONE! ONLY EQUALLED BY HER BIG MOUTH. THE HELICOPTER 15 ON THE ROOF. 


ISN'T HE A SCREAM? iz 7 
HOW CLEVER TO A "| ANNIE, DEAR, HISIS MY Î { LEAVING? Y I'M SORRY, BABY, BUT I'M OFF 


MAN, SHAZAM, AND THAT'S BEFORE TO BRAZIL TO CONCLUDE AN 
oS NATURAL COSTUME, MIDNIGHT? | IMPORTANT STOCK TRANSACTION. 


À 
2 
Sa 


INVENT SUCH A 
GOOFY COSTUME- 


OH, WHAT ARE YOU UP TO THIS 


\ TIME, Сарот? а CAPITAL GAINS E  cray TO WELCOME IN THE À LISTEN! SINCE ICANT 


2 2 
DEALE AA UNDERWRITING" NEW YEAR WITH ME. MJ! Stick AROUND UNTIL 
сз SY MIDNIGHT, I'LL TELL YOU 
PM UP TO AN ESCAPE, W AH, LITTLE GIRL = WHEN YOU WHAT м GOING TO DO— 
SWEETHEART, THEY CAN'T TURN THOSE EABY BLUES ON, 
EXTRADITE ME FROM BRAZIL. 5 HOw CAN | RESIST? 


| CANT WAIT FOR. THE NEW YEAR, BUT 1 CAN BRING Fg: — YOU WILL 
ка SING “Au! 
! WANT MIDNIGHT! SING “AULD, 


= 


WELL, IT'S GOODBYE MASTER, | Y PLEASE TO | f WHERE | GO, THE FIGHT 


AGAIN, LITTLE TYKE. 4 а LIE DOWN ) FOR THE INDIVIDUAL 

THEY'RE TRYING TO ON FLOOR, ] ) AND UNRESTRICTED 

TIE ME DOWN--TO Ñ ЧА EVERYBODY! NTERPRISE GOES 
ON! wE'LL MEET 


HARNESS ME ~ SO I'VE 
3 Д AGAIN, SOON— 


Ё GOODBYE, ANNIE, SWEETHEART! 
YOU'LL ALWAYS ВЕ MY LITTLE GIRL =- 
AND REMEMBER. WHEREVER | AM. 


FREEDOM LIVES! 


= 


THERE GOES THE SPIRIT THERE GOES A 
GOES = AND, OF RUGGED INDIVIDUALISM, VISION OF THE 
TS FLYING INTO THE NIGHT--- A FUTURE = OF Y 
CLOCK. INTO THE NEW YEAR — THINGS To Come! 


PLAYBOY 


182 


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information is available for the 
merchandise of the advertisers 
in this issue listed below. 


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Engli: 
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Jazz Note Card: 
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New York City’s famons Park Avenue at the holiday season as interpreted by Georgette de Lattre 


For holiday cheer...“the world agrees on *"Gilbey's, please’!”” A quality symbol 
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in a great light beer 


Schlitz is brewed with pride and just the kiss of the hops to 
bring the character of the beer to life. 

So why don’t you get together with Schlitz, the Beer that 
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© 1963 Jos. Schlitz Brewing Co., Milwoukee, Wis., Brooklyn, N. Y., Los Angeles, Col, Kansox City, Mo.. Tompa. Flo. 


qus