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- ENT ERTA INM ENT FO R MEN AUGUST 1970. ONE DOLLAR ; 


АҮВО 


G- A WILD 
J PICTORIAL 


ON “MYRA 
BRECKINRIDGE” 


AN INTERVIEW WITH 
DR. PAUL EHRLICH _ 


BUNNIES OF 1970 


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PLAYBILL "е 

been la- 
beled a mystic,” anthropologist 
Loren Kiscley once said, “be- 
cause I have not been able to 
shut out wonder when I have 
looked at the world.” This 
sense of awe is lyrically re- 
vealed in The Last Magician, 
in which Dr. Eiseley exhorts 
man to renew contact with his 
nimal-forest. heritage. Inter- 
nationally known in both the 
scientific and the literary fields, 
he has been the Benjamin 
Franklin Professor of Anthro- 
pology and History of Science 
at the Uni yl 
nia and Curator of Early 
Man at the University Museum 
since 1961. The Last Magician 
will appear as a chapter in his 
forthcoming book, The In 
visible Pyramid, to be pub- 
lished this fall by Charles 
Scribner's Sons. Another dis 
tinguished scientist in the van- 
guard of those fighting to save 
the carth for all living creatures 
is the charismatic subject of 
this month's Playboy Inter 
view. Population biologist Dr 
Paul Ehrlich graphically de- 
scribes what we must do to 
combat the dangers of over- 
population, depletion of the 
world’s natural. resources and 
the ever increasing contamina 
tion of our environment. 

А young man's love for а 
single plant figures heavily in 
A Small Death in the Rue de 
Rennes, bestselling novelist 
Mary McCarthy's | poignant 
story of an American student who makes a commitment. to 
social protest in riot-beset Paris. At home on the Rue de Ren- 
arthy is presently writing Birds of America, from 
which A Small Death is taken, to be published by Harcourt, 
Brace & World. Another fiction writer whose ecological con- 
cern is beginning to surface in his work is John D. MacDonald, 

gement guy run- 
r and water; yet he 
er suicide." In Dou- 
mines a different aspect 


5 


MURRAY 


ning a factory that heavily pollutes both 
can't enforce a change м i 

ble Hannenframmis, MacDonald exa 
of the industrial climate. “It’s about а young man,” he told us, 
"who rode the explosive bull market in 1967 and 1968, whee 
and dealing like all the Young Turks of the go-go funds and the 
chet men of funny-money conglomeration. When the times 
nd tides chang iius position by turning corrupt 
and sacrifices his wile along with his integrity. Too late, he dis- 
covers that the joy is gone and it is a time of despair." Feelings 
of desperation take opposite directions in The Gourmet, by 
longtime contributor Henry Slesar, and Leviathan!, which 


marks Larry Niven's first appearance iu our pages. Slesar art- 
fully weaves a horror mystery about an elderly recluse with an 
unple "s discovered by nce writer. Levi- 
athan!, which was fancifully illustrated for us by California 


artist Charles Bragg, is а humorous sci-fi adventure about а 
hunter of the future who almost abandons hope during a ter- 
rilying time trip to the past. Contributing Editor Ken W. 
Purdy rounds out our August fiction bill with The Sign. an 
ironic tale about a contest of wills between а man and a priest. 


BOWERS 


'FFOLKES 


Playboy Plays the Bond 
Market is the fourth in a series 
of common-sense financial ar- 
ticles by Senior Editor Michael 
Laurence. “When I started to 
work on this piece," he says, 
“the first thing 1 did was get 
rid of the Government savings 
bonds I'd been accumulating 
for years—they're not at all 
profitable.” (Readers can prof. 
it handsomely, however, from 
a perusal of another of Mike's 
works: The Legacy, a short 
story that appeared in the 
November 1968 PLaysoy and 
included in The Demanding 
Age, a college textbook an 
thology recently published by 
McGraw-Hill) During World 
War Two, buying war bonds 
was as patriotic a ritual as 
cheating the latest Jobn 
Wayne movie. Satirist Larry 
Siegel herein presents a nos 
talgic look at that embattled 
era with Star-Spangled Jive, a 
tongue-in-cheek remembrance 
of those flag-waving flicks tha 
fought the War on the home 
font. The exhilaration of 
victory and the heartbreak of 
defeat—at the Bob Hope Des 
em Classic, that is—are the 
subjects of William Mur 
Fore Play. His firsthand report 
on all the action, from tecolf 
to tippling, gives a ye 
view of the most bizarre tou 
nament on the pro golf circuit. 
John Bowers went on the road 
with soul singer Janis Joplin 
(voted the top female vocalist 
in the 1970 Playboy Jazz & Pop 
Poll) to write All She Needs Is Love. “When 1 fist met her,” 
Bowers reports, “1 thought she would conform to certain South 
ern /Техаз clichés. But she fooled me—there isn't one cliché 
bout her. She's an original.” Bowers just finished writing The 
Colony, a memoir-novel to be published next year by Dutton 

The age-old hunt for aphrodisiacs is pursued by Fredric С. 
Appel in “Just Slip This into Her Drink. . . ." “While rescarch- 
g the story," he says, "a senior clinician at the Georgetown 
University Medical Center threw the place into a giggling up- 
т when he requisitioned all available literature on aphro- 
disiacs from the medical library. Unfortunately, there is still 
a tremendous lack of medical knowledge about sex, resulting 
from past and present prudery in the profession.” In the 
contemporary book world, of course, puritanism is practically 
nonexiste ness Gore Vidal's Myra Breckinridge. For 
our Rabelaisian pictorial essay, Myra Goes Hollywood. critic- 
turned-actor Rex Reed has penned a curaretipped com- 
mentary on the filming of the controversial best seller. 


CARTY 


BRAGG 


Ги 


Other midsummer pleasures to savor: Bunnies of 1970, an 
li-page photographic tribute to ап international array of 
ies; Alphabetical Sex, а comic abecedary by 


by cartoonist Michael Flolkes; On with the Shoe, seven 
pacesetting ways to step out in style, and The City Gentleman 
а go-anywhere collection of warm-weather sportswear—both 
by Fashion Director Robert L. Green. And, for the height 
of sport, join us for A Real Gas!, a highflying balloon outing 
packed with sun and sky—and food and drink from Thomas 

о. Obviously, August PLaywoy is the only way to travel 


vol. 17, no. 8—august, 1970 


PLAYBOY. 


Magician 


Bunnies 


Hannenfrommis P. 123 


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NOTHING MAY BE REIKO їн WHOLE ON IN PART 
ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN 
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GAN AVE . CHICAGO. ILL. всём. SECONB-CLASS POSTACE 
i. SUBSCRIPTIONS їп тик 27, $10 TOR CHE TEAR. 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN’S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL one zu 2 з 
DEAR PLAYBOY... — Я 7 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS S 19 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR... я А х 37 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM nee f а 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DR. PAUL EHRLICH—candid conversation _ 55 
А SMALL DEATH IN THE RUE DE RENNES—fiction.. MARY McCARTHY 68 
THE LAST MAGICIAN —article. -LOREN EISELEY 72 
MYRA GOES HOLLYWOOD—pictorial essay... REX REED 74 


THE SIGN—ficlion..........-.. 
“JUST SLIP THIS INTO HER DRINK"— article 
THE GOURMET—fiction....... 
A REAL GAS!—modern living. Е т 89 
STAR-SPANGLED JIVE—s. LARRY SIEGEL 97 
THE CLARK EXPEDITION —playboy's playmate of the month... 98 
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor. 
ON WITH THE SHOE—ahtire 
PLAYBOY PLAYS THE BOND MARKET—anticle 

ALL SHE NEEDS IS LOVE—persenality. EA 
THE CITY GENTLEMAN—ottire. 


KEN W. PURDY 81 
FREDRIC C. APPEL 82 
HENRY SIESAR 87 


ROBERT 1. GREEN 109 
MICHAEL LAURENCE 113 
JOHN BOWERS 114 
ROBERT 1. GREEN 119 


LEVIATHAN!—fiction ....... E LARRY NIVEN 120 
DOUBLE HANNENFRAMMIS—fiction JOHN D. MAC DONALD 123 
BUNNIES OF 1970—pictoriol z 2 desee 125 
ON PARADE —ribald classic 137 


WILLIAM MURRAY 139 
MICHAEL FFOLKES 141 


FORE PLAY—arlicle 
ALPHABETICAL SEX—humor. 
ON THE SCENE— personalities. = 148 


HUGH м. HEFNER editor and publisher 
A. C. SPECTORSKY associate publisher and editorial director 
ARTHUR PAUL art director 


JACK J. KESSIE managing editor VINCENT T. TAJIRI picture editor 


SHELDON WAX, MURRAY FISHER, NAT LEHRMAN assistant managing editors: ARTHUR 
KREICHMER, MICHAEL LAURENCE senior editors; ROWE MACAULEY fiction editor: 
JAMES coope articles editor; том owes modern living editor; DAVID BUTLER, 
HENRY FENWICK, WILLIAM J- HELMER, LAWRENCE LINDERMAN, KOBERT J. SHEA. DAVID 
STEVENS, JULIA TRELEASE, CRAIG VETTER, KOREXT ANTON WILSON asociate editors; 
KOBERT L. GREEN fashion director; DAVID TAYLOR fashion edilor; REGINALD POYTERTON 
travel reporter; THOMAS mawo food è chink editor; J. raur cerry contributing edi- 
Тоғ, business & finance; ARLENE otras copy chief: XAT MENTOFF, RICHARD WAR 
REN LEWIS, KEN W, PURDY, JEAN SHEPHERD, KENNETH TYNAN contributing editors: 
RICHARD korr administrative editor; GEOFFREY NORMAN, STANLEY PALEY, MLL 
QUINN, CARL SNYDER, JAMES SPURLOCK, ROGER WIDENTR, RAY WILLIAMS assistant 
edilors; BEN CHAMBERLAIN, MMULYN GRABOWSKI associate picture editors: BILL 
AKSENAULT. DAVID CHAN, DWIGHT HOOKER, POMPEO POSAR, ALEXAS URBA 514/7 pho 
tographers; MIRE сотилию photo lab chief; RONALD BLUME, TOM STAEBLER associate 
art directors; BON POST, RERIG POPE, ROY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, CHET SUSI Josera 
raczes assistant art directors; WALTER RRADENYCH, VICIOK HUBUAKD, KAREN YOPS 
arl assistants; MICHELLE ALTMAN associate cartoon editor; JOUN MASTRO pro 
duction manager; ALLEN VARGO assistant production manager; PAT PAPPAS rights 
and permissions • HOWARD W. LEDERER advertising direclor; JULES KASE, JOSEPH 
GUENTHER associate advertising managers; SHERMAN BEATS chicago advertising 
manager; RODENT A. MG KENZIE detroit advertising manager; NELSON FUTCH 
public relations director; ниъмат toksen publicity manager: BENNY DUNN 
public relations manager; axsox моихт public affairs manager; Tro FRED 
наск personnel director; JANET PUGRIM reader service; ALVIS WIEMOLD snb- 
scription manager; ROBERT 5. PREUSS business manager and circulation director. 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


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WOMEN IN REVOLT 

Up Against the Wall, Male Chauvinist 
Pig!, by Morton Hunt (etAvnoy, May). 
presents as balanced а picture as a male 
"pig" can write, Certainly, the efforts of 
the so-called feminists (who should more 
accurately be called masculinists, I think) 
are often lacking in both perspective and 
information. They don’t realize that while 
women undoubtedly suffer from the re- 
They 


strictions of this society, so do men 
also seem to spend a lot of time, like Don 
Quixote, fighting windmills; but some 
of their goals nd 1 wish 
them luck. 
Jordan Scher, M. D. 
American Board of Psychiatry 
and N 
Chicago, Ilinois 


Do liberated women also liberate their 
men from alimony payments? 
Don Wilson 
Troy, Alabama 


I think Morton Hunt has done an 
«hii, 
num of dissent and dissatisfaction that 
prevails among women today. At the 
same time, he clearly shows the absurdity 
of the women's liberation extremists 
who, in their zeal to correct present-day 
injustices, can conceive of mo solution 
less radical than abolish 
billion years of evolution 
the human species to the condition of 
neutersexed amoebae. 

The psychology of the female, like 
that of the male, is determined by both 
inhere 
ing cultural definitio 


excellent job of highlighting the spec 


the past two 
nd returning 


t biological potentiality and. ever 


cha there ds 


more possibility of change than conserva. 
tives realize bur less than militant revo: 
Intionaries imagine. The male and the 
female mus always collide, integrate 
and even overlap in the fulfillment or 
their separate biological roles. One sex 
is neither superior nor inferior to the 
other; they are merely different. Both 
want and need security. status. prestige 
ind acceptance—and both are capable of 
envy, hostility, irrationality and masoch- 
ism when their needs are frustrated. 
Each must play its own biological role 
and derive as much pleasure as possible 
therelrom, and cach has its advantages 


and disadvantages. But one sex will 


always bear the children and the other 
lways provide the seed. To reum 
to reproduction by budding, partheno 
genesis or fission (or to create fucking ma- 
chines) will provide no real satisfaction 
for the majority of either sex. 

Leon Salzman, M. D. 

Director of Psychoanalytic Medicine 


will 


ne University School of Medicine 
ns, Loui 


na 


I have just finished Morton Hunt's 
article and 1 must say that it has cured 
me of my "male chauvinist” attitude of 
superiority toward women—and also of 
the chivalry that follows from that atti- 
tude. When the militant. feminists start 
their guerrilla insurrection, I will have 
no hesitation about blasting them the 
way I would a mob of similarly violent 
mile revolutionaries 

Man Stone 
Hollywood, California 


Cheer up. 
lot of unfair 


girls: We men may have a 


dvantages economically, 
but we'll always kiss your lovely asses, 
both figuratively and literally 
Eugene Lieb 
Port Monmouth, ? 


w Jersey 


Having just returned from Vietnam, I 
can't help wondering how the feminists 
would react 10 having the full respon- 
sibilities (as well as the privileges) of 
being men. How long would it take 
them to decide that they prefer being 
women. alter all, when they see their 
friends dying all around them because 
the medical helicopter can't get to the 
? How long would they w: 
be "one of the boys" when it entails 
sleeping on rocks or in rice paddies or 
listening all night to the shells and won- 
dering if one has your name on it? 

Sgt. R. L. Meadows, U.S. М.С 
Beaufort, South. Carolina 


are nt to 


ongratu 
comprehensive and unbiased artide. If 
the new feminists are unhappy, feel un 
fulfilled and lack intellectual stimuli 
tion, that is largely their own fault—not 
any man's. Women who thrive on such 
self-pity and hostility toward men have 
th 
Us in it for mez"—and 


ions to Morton Hunt for a 


not learned the 
attitude is “Wh 


ї of reciprocity 


For the man 
with a lot 
of living 
to do. 


g 


Pub cologne and after-shave. 
Created for men by Revlon. 


PLAYBOY 


the answer is, as always, that there's 
nothing in life for anybody who is not 
willing to give as well as receive. Modern 
technology has greatly reduced the time 
spent doing housework, leav wile 
id mother with ample opportunity to 
pursue intellectual, artistic or other self- 
fulfilling experiences. If women would 
seize this challenge. instead of sitting 
k and feeling sorry for themselves, 
they could have rich and happy lives— 
and this would be a better country and а 
better world. 
Vive la différence! 
Mary Weiner 
Woodacre, California 


Morton Hunt is a real delight. He is 
enlightened, 
just as long as his woman will accept his 
version of democracy. in which he is per- 
manent President and there is never any 
rotation in office. Lovely. "That's the kind 
of liberalism that provokes the angry 
rebellion that he discussed with a brief 
glimmer of perception very early in his 
article. 


Elvira M. Wilbu 
East Lansing, Michigan 


Perhaps Ti-Grace Atkinson and Rox- 
пе Dunbar are abnormal; maybe 
Stokely Carmichael and Rap Brown are, 
too. Perhaps we should serve Boss Hunt 
his mint julep and darn his socks and 
never bother our simple heads with ques- 
tions about justice and dignity. But, then 
again, perhaps Morton Hunt is а 
hole—and if people don't fit the system, 
maybe it's the system and not the people 
that needs changing. 


Aprille Dykes 
Portland, Oregon 
Ina P.S. to her letter, Miss Dykes as- 
sured us her name is not her game. 


A double bravo to Morton Hunt for 
his fair and objective essay. At least 
now 1 understand why the women's lib- 
eration troops wear those god-awful blue 
jeans and sweaters, even if 1 still think 
they look like hell. 


Ned Brown 
Lakeside, Michigan 


Letting a man write an article on 
women's liberation is just another exam- 
ple of Prayuoy's male-dominated, 
family-based, militarist, capitalist philos- 
ophy that is expressed throughout the 
magazine. 


Fd Gittelson 
Morristown, New Jersey 


Morton Hunt's piece seemed well bal- 
nced and rational until he detailed his 
conclusions, which had the sound of hav- 
1g been eng stone, like the Ten 
Commandments. Individual men and 
women, working together, can choose the 
roles they will play in their sexual rela- 
tionships and many of these will be 


ауса 


е outside the pale of those that Hunt 
ks are biologically determined. 

The woman (or man) who says to me 
“This is how J feel and this is what 
I think I need” will get my respectful 
auention; but the dogmatist, such as 
Hunt, who says "This is what everybody 
must feel and need" is going to have to 
stand in line, because I am already up to 
my neck in other people's value systems 

Donald Skiff 
Ames, Iowa 

Hunt based his conclusions less on 
what men and women must feel than on 
what they say they do feel. Before sug- 
gesting that women combine marriage 
and motherhood with a career, Hunt 
cited surveys of high school and college 
women that indicated they preferred 
such a combination—with the home 
taking precedence over the work world. 


The only good thing about Hunts 
essay was the title, Up Against the Wall, 
Male Chawvinist Pig!, which accurately 
stated by whom, and for whom, it was 
written. 


Nora Wei 
Dayton, Ol 


Morton Hunt's piece is almost within 
shouting distance of the 20th Century. 
He gets an А for recognizing the injustice 
of economic discrimination that results 
in lower rank and pay for women doing 
the same work as men, At the same time, 
however, he gets an F for not coming to 
grips with the more basic issue of sexism 
(a term I prefer to the more pejorative 
male chauvinism). Sexism is the uncon- 
scious, takenforgranted, unquestioned, 
unexamined, unchallenged acceptance of 
i tude that the world as it looks to 
men is the only world; that the tactics 
for dealing with the world employed by 
men are the only tactic the values 
of masculine culture are the only value 
that the way men think about sex is the 
only way it can be regarded; and that 
what men believe about women is an 
accurate portiait of what all women are 
really like, all departures from that ster- 
cotype being perverse or abnormal. It 
because Hunt is so unconsci 
own sexism and his own pr 
he is able to regard women's liberation 
as both ridiculous and. threatening. 
offer at the conclusion the Vict 
notion that women should 


On the question of sex diffe 
most radical women will remain 
tic; they want to be shown; they will not 
be satisfied with the evidence so far ad- 
duced by Hunt and other male sexists. 
Perhaps there are such differences; but, 
if so, what is Hunt so afraid of? In a Hib- 
erated society, without the present re- 
strictions, such. differences would ensure 
that the present male superiority would 
reappear. Why are sexists such as Hunt 


so afraid to uy this experiment? Could 
it be that their terror is a measure of 
their uncertainty and their repressed 
fear that they could not always make it 
to the top on the basis of their talents 
alone, without the crutch of sexist eco- 
nomic discrimination? 

Jesse Bernard, Ph.D. 

Washington, D. C. 


Hunt replies: 


It is sad to sce a formerly thought- 
ful and fair-minded social scientist 
such as Dr. Bernard become а con- 
vert to the mindless rhetoric. and 
defamatory billingsgate of the wom- 
en's liberation movement. 1 am ac- 
cused of sexism, which is then defined 
in sweeping terms—a technique that 
makes me guilty of all aspects of 
sexism without evidence or a fair 
trial. This is typical of the radicals 
of women's lib., who, like the extrem- 
ists in SDS, have no faith in demo- 
cratic procedures and see nothing 
wrong about shouting down the op- 
position or anyone they define as 
the opposition, by any means, fair or 
foul. But Dr. Bernard seems not lo 
have read my article al all; witness 
her statement that I urge women to 
spend “50 years of their lives in the 
world of the home.” For over a dec- 
ade, 1 have been saying something 
very different—and 1 said it again in 
the article she presumably read. I 
have said that a woman ought to live 
outside the home as much as she 
can, except, perhaps, for the years 
when her children ате small and 
combining motherhood and carcer is 
most difficult. 

On the record, I am innocent. On 
the record, I ат pro-jeminist. On 
the record, 1 am а liberal in my 
outlook on the role of women in 
modern life. That is my crime: I am 
a liberal. Nothing in[uriates radicals 
more than a liberal; they sec him as 
an enemy infinitely worse than the 
reactionaries. This is because we ате 
their competitors—for we always 
have, and always will, bring about 
the social changes that truly benefit 
mankind, and the extremists can- 
not tolerate this threat to their 
ideological position. That is why 
nothing J say here сап do any good, 
for Dr. Bernard has now joined 
those who substitule vituperation 
for an examination of the evidence 
and who curse those who differ from 
them rather than seeking to ex- 
change ideas and information. I re- 
gret seeing her on the other side of 
the barricades from me—but they 
are barricades that she and her radi- 
cal friends have built. 


OUR FOUR-WHEELED FUTURE 
The steam-driven automobiles suggest- 

ed by Ken W. Purdy in The New Urban 

Car (и.лувоу, May) can be a reality if 


If you're modest 
about your success, 

let the Smooth Canadian 
speak for you. 


Seagram's У.О. not only says you 

can afford the smoothest, lightest Canadian 

E whisky of all; it says you have the taste 

to recognize the smoothest, lightest Canadian 
whisky of all. And lots of taste is 

just as impressive as lots of money. Don’t 

you think? 


PLAYBOY 


10 


the right people get behind this ide: 
ave driven a 1925 Doble and it's fant 
nd smooth enough to make 
g it as different from driving other 
cars as gliding is from flying. It was a gas 
(pardon the expression) and seemed to 
ail the highway at 70 mph. It’s hard to 
believe that something this good, built 
45 years later with todays technology, 
couldn't drive the pollution-making gaso- 
ie burners right off the roads. 

Bill Neumann 

Automotive Consultant. 

Glendale, California 


Purdy was ren ly clear in discuss. 
ing a complex subject. Now, if Detroit 
would only listen. 

Thor Ostrom 
Fargo, North Dakota 


WAR AND PEACE 
Robert Sherrill constructed The War 
Machine (pLavnoy, May) with meticu- 
lous care, scrupulously documenting his 
information, build case fact upon 
fact, until the ending seems inescapable. 
His article is eminently readable, е 
nently frightening. 
Once again, we are all indebted to 
PLAYBOY. 
Harold Willens, National Chairman 
The Businessmen's Educational Fund 
fornia 


nce Hartke's The Peace De- 
partment (PLAynoy, Мау) is one of the 
most important and informative articles 
ever published by your magazine, but I 
doubt very seriously that such an agency 
could function in tlie present. American 
Government, which is sad, because such 
а depariment would be of great value to 
the American people and, in fact, to all 
the people of the world 

Ру. Mark Lippman 

Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri 


The articles by Sherrill and Hartke de- 
serve more depth of study than I have 
time to give them. I would, however, call 
your attention to the following words by 
President Theodore Roosevelt: “IE we 
if we seek merely swollen, 
slothful сазе and ignoble peace . . . then 
bolder and stronger peoples will pass 
us by, and will win for themselves the 
domination of the world." 

Lt. Gen. A. W. Betts 

Chief of Research and Development 
Department of the Army 
Washington, D. C. 


ny people in America 
һ rage that the only 
nd one can hear most of the time is a 
high-pitched howl of chaos. My genera- 
tion blames the establishment for every- 
thing, from the Indochina war to pay 
toilets; the establishment, in turn, re- 
sponds by calling us all Communists and 
bums, It is rare amid all this bitterness to 


ble and rcalistic 


encounter s wor 
plan to improve our situation, but Sena- 
tor Hartke's suggested P. tment 
is such a proposal. He is to be congratu- 
lated for writing the article and PLAYBOY 
should be commended for publishing it. 

Jim Warner 

Live Oak, Florid 


la 


itor Harike's plea for a Peace De- 
partment is admirable, eloquent, persua- 
sive and Hopeful Keep up the good work. 
ederick L. Schuman 
cee of Political Science 
Portland State University 
Portland, Oregon 


The Sherrill and Hartke articles were 
both interesting and informative. 
Senator Daniel К. Inouye 
United States Senate 
Washington, D. C. 


GOLDEN GLOOM 

Herbert Gold's Zoya (рглүвоү, May) 
was so convincing that I forgot I was 
California and began to feel the Russia 
cold (and the Russi 
my spine. 


San Diego. California 


I once visited Moscow, during the cul- 
tural-exchange years of the Eisenhower 
era, when they sent us their Moiseyev 


ballet and we reciprocated by sending 
one of our own national treasures, Ed 
Sullivan. Gold's story beautifully con- 
jured up exactly the Russia I knew, with 
all its brutal bureaucracy and its unro- 
mantic, unswinging deadness. That Gold 
could capture this mood so well and still 
n the humorous values of his story 
is a tribute to his skill as a writer. 
Bernard Pechter 
San Francisco, California 


What a whale of a story! Gold per- 
fectly etches the varieties of selfishness, 
courage, fatalism, stoic and ironic accept 
ance, surprise and mystery that are й 
volved in the meeting of capitalist West. 
with socialist East. 

John Newland 
Brentwood, Calilornia 


MR, CONSERVATIVE 

апу thanks for your May interview 
ith William Е. Buckley, Jr. As an avid 
reader of both pLaysoy and National Re- 
view, 1 am extremely gratified that a 
magazine of PLAYBOY'S importance, in- 
fluence and liberal leanings should give 
accurate coverage to the conservative 
point of view. 


псу L. Whichello 
Ochopee, Florida 


Speaking as a 99-year-old college stu- 
dent, I feel that Bill Buckley's philosophy 
is one touch of sanity in our embattled 
cra. This man’s realism is an oasis in the 


descrt of false hopes sown by many liber 
als as well as many so-called conserva- 
tives. I am almost tempted to argue with 
Buckley's remark that he is not a genius; 
but, having watched him in action, I 
know better than to attempt to better 
him in debate! 


cs Patrick Cather 
ersity of Alaba 
ngham, Alabama 


Congratulations to pLaynoy for its 
nterview. with Wi . Buckley, Jr, 
nd for providing the forum from which 
this great American could expres 
liefs While I cannot agree with all his 
views, it's hı 
print that contradicts the fervent radical- 
ism that has recently gained so much 
attention. 


Crouse 
Kill Buck, New York 


With characteristic restraint, William 
Buckley cites only the less spectacular 
examples of liberal-humanistic bias in 
our universities. Shocking as his examples 
are, I could give many that are worse, 
even on my comparatively conservative 
campus. Bullionists and mercantilists 
are not adequately represented in the 
economics department; there are no ad- 
vocates of the divine right of kings on 
the political-science faculty; and а pro 
Darwinist conspiracy has driven almost 
all the Bible believers out of biology. 
Worse yet, nobody in the geclogy depart- 
ment dares advocate the theory of special 
creation; alchemy is treated with scorn 
by our chemistry teachei nd no re- 
spectful attention is given to the rite of 
hun aciifice in our department of 
religion. However, led by stalwarts such 
ix ts dl (rc HERES ER Po tc 
to a position of veneration, critical in- 
quiry may still be stifled and, at the very 
least, our students will get haircuts. 

Donald Н. Grubbs 

Associate Professor of History 
University of the Pacific 
Stockton, С; 


ilornia 


haps Dr. Martin Luther Ki 
be remembered as a“ 

ıs (although 1 
Buckley himself, howeve 
will be remembered, if at all, as the 
educated man who was able to delude 
himself that all issues could be reduced 
mple choice of good guys and bad 


wi 
force, 


“Thomas Spies 
Boston University 


Brookline, Massachusetts 


Bill Buckley righteously declares that 
the position of the Black Panther Party 
is untenable and that we cannot afford 
to extend the privilege of free speech to 
adherents. The poor fellow is obvious: 
ydream of bygone days. 
fellow patricians would 


PLAYBOY 


12 


extend free speech to their inferiors as 
a reward for obscquious behavior and 
withdraw the privilege when it threat- 
ened to shake up their mansions. О 
perhaps, after being God's servant and 
spokesman for so long, Buckley decided to 
take his Master's place—in which case, I 
can only say that I regret this particular 
palace coup. Buckley has а fine mind 
probably the finest that the 13th Century 
ever produced—but he shouldn't sound 
surprised and mournful in admitting 
that his ideals don't appeal much to 
contemporary college students. 

Don Peters 

Columbia University. 

New York, New York 


refers to the “holo- 
caust that Caucasians visited against the 
Jews” in ? the 1940s. Is it 
possible that this sophisticated, intellec- 
tual idiot doesn't know what race the 
Jews belong to? 


Mr. Conservati 


Morton Ross 
Skokie, Illinois 


William Buckley's answers remind me 
of а computer at work, Everything was 
recorded decades ago on his brain tape, 
filed in its proper place and pours forth 
at once when the right question is asked. 
But none of it has anything to do with 
life today. Most conspicuously, the ba 
categories of his thought—conservative 
and liberal, Republican and Democrat 
ате totally uninteresting to students of 
my generation; he might as well be talk- 
ing about York versus Lancaster during 
the War of the Roses. 

Gary Clark 
Crescent City, California 


Your May interview was galva: 
me. Classifying myself as an 
eral, 1 had always considered Buckley an 
execrable energumen; but his tendentious 
rodomontade had somewhat of a tr 
mogrifying effect, despite his circ 
ambient peripherizations, That is it 
sed my vocabulary. 

Bernie Eggener 
Chicago, Illinois 


William Buckley reminds me of a most 
decorous and impeccable undertaker. 
Whatever can be said of the men he 
criticizes—the Martin Luther Kings, the 
Robert Kennedys, the John Lindsays—at 
least they sparkle; they have imagination 
and vision; they do not bore me, as 
William F. Buckley doe 

James L. Lucas 

Chicago, Illinois 


rLAYBOY Associate Editor David Butler 
is correct about Buckley's surprising atti- 
tude toward people. Several 
mtt the conservative firebrand in a motor- 
cycle shop and made some trite remark 
about his politics, meanwhile bracing 


myself for his noted tone of yawning 
condescension toward human ignorance. 
But, instead, a really warm and talkative 
response emerged from this man, who 
clearly cares as strongly for people as he 
does for perfectly constructed syntax. 

С. Lance Bailey 

Stamford, Connecticut 


Buckley claims that sociologists have 
proved “societies don’t survive without 
the observance of certain common bonds, 
certain taboos" and then uses this point 
to justify censorship. I doubt that he сап 
find a sociologist who will agree with 
tion he quotes is by. 
ns а "social universal" and has 
absolutely no predictive value. We simply 
cannot say that cular taboo is 
central to a given society's survival 
chance; and many societies abandoned 
old taboos without immediately disappear- 
ing from the face of the earth. In short, 
his argument is a scientific absurdity. 

Kenneth І. Nyberg 
University of Maine 
Orono. Maine 


William Buckley's use of sociology to 
justify censorship was a bit of double 
talk—as I'm sure some sociologist w 


al practice of using 
hand. without regard 
‚һе has 
aiticized the Supreme Court's 1954 de 
segregation decision on the grounds that 
the Justices quoted sociological studies to 
buttress their opinion, and he has pro- 
imed that sociology is too dubious а 
се to validate any law. He forgets 
this when he himself can use, or abuse, 
sociology to support laws he likes. 
Charles Calloway 
Newark, New Jersey 


AND SO TO BED 
Bedsprings Eternal, by William Iversen 
(eLavnoy, May), is the only essay I've 
read devoted to where, how and under 
what circumstances humanity spends one 
third of its life. To read the piece was to 
wax nostalgic for the trundle bed of my 
youth, the sleeping bag of my adoles- 
cence and even the hammock of my days 
in the Navy. Where are the beds of yester- 
year? Where, indeed. As author Iversen 
inadvertently points ош, the history of 
mankind is the history of the mattress. 
Don Walsh 
Minneapolis, Minnesota 


William Iversen's article did absolutely 
nothing for my insomnia—in fact, I 
stayed up half the night to read it. It’s 
a treasure of trivia, a priceless history 
of the bed, from the peasant’s pallet to 
the millionaire's hot-water-filled mattress. 
s to be complimented for pul 

though who else would have 
the insight to devote so much space to 


such a vital item of furniture? After the 
fun and games are over, we do, indced, 
slip into that "sleep that knits up the 
ravel'd sleeve of care.” 


SURPRISE! 

I had thought that stories featu 
О. Henry surprise endings had been sup- 
planted long ago by those with no be- 
ginning, no middle and no end. I was 
pleasantly surprised, reading Love Let- 
ters, by Ken Kolb, in your May issue, to 
see that this is not so. Congratulations to 
Kolb for a delightful story, well told, and 
to PLAYBOY for eschewing the avant-garde 
and having the wisdom to publish a short 
story that offers nothing but sheer enter- 
tainment. 


Carl Deutsch 
Milwaukee, Wisconsin 


When PLAYBOY publishes its next an- 
thology of excellent fiction, 1 hope that 
Ken Kolb's Love Letters is included. I 
thought I could see the ending coming. 
but the author surprised me. Nice tale, 
nice writing. 


Malcolm Singer 
Denver, Colorado 


Ken Kolb is no mean word mechanic. 
After reading your squib about him in 
Playbill (the movie Getting Straight was 
based on his novel), I turned immedi. 
ately to Love Letters to sce how he could 
do sans director, producer and actors— 
pure Kolb in cold type. I wasn't disap- 
pointed; the man is really skilled in 
spinning a yarn. A surprise ending that 
rcally surprised mc. 

Louis Hart 
Birmingham, Alabama 


FUNNY GIRL 

The latest episode of Little Annie 
Fanny (pLaywoy, May) is the hilarious 
last word on the group-grope cult that 
currently passes for psychotherapy among 
the sun-dazed Californians. Harvey Kurtz- 
man and Will Elder hit a s 
eye every timel 


att Morrison 
"Tucson, Arizona. 


CHILLING FICTION 
“To sleep, perchance to dream”; but I 
didn’t dare after Reynolds Price's Good 
Dreams, Bad Dreams (vLaywoy, May). 
Where do you find creepy-crawly stories 
such as that? I read it on a warm day 
shivered most of the night. 
Clarence Sloan 
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 


nd 


THE MYSTERY GUEST. 

Because I'm 
myself on my quick eye for graphics 
take pleasure in seeking your Ra 
on the cover those months when you 


If you just 
want to look good, 
don't light it. 


On the other hand, 
if you'd like to taste 
the small, mild 
cigarwith all the 
flavor of a large 
cigar, go ahead: 

8 


a 


PLAYBOY 


14 


disguise him. I must say that your May 
cover outdid all your previous efforts. In 
fact, ТЇЇ wager that some of your faithful 
followers are still hunting for the enig- 
matic little fellow. £ myself thought I 
had found him before 1 really had. 

Ford Scott Rollo, Vice-President 

Saxon Associates 

Los Angeles, California 


DECLINE AND FALL 
Federico Fellini's article on his new 
movie, Satyricon (PLAYBOY, ) is 
almost as bitterly beautiful and frighten- 
ing as the film itself. His parallels be- 
tween the decay of ancient Rome and 
the current decline of the West are dev- 
astating and totally, wagically truc. I 
only wish I could share his belief that. in 
spite of the insolence of empire he has 
chronicled, “Salvation, a new way of 
being human, is perhaps still possible.” 
James O'Reilly 
Brooklyn. New York 


When Pablo Picasso tried to write a 
play and showed the results to Gertrude 
d the honesty to tell him 
y blo. go home and paint 

perusing Fellini's fecble philoso- 
ngs, I can only say, “Federico, go 
home and film!” 


Claude Wickler 
Los Angeles, California 


Fellini's parallels between. contempo- 
rary Europe and Nero's Rome are true 
duplicate is right 
The only 


Сасѕа 
across Ше carth, we do not even provide 
"bread and circuses” for the plebeians at 
home; we allow them, and our cities 
themselves, to rot. 


MORALE BUILDER 
I would like to thank PLayaoy for its 

great contribution to the morale of the 
Marine Corps in Vietnam. ravsoy is 
the most anxiously awaited article of 
mail in the country—surpassing even 
that Jeter from home—regardless of 
your opinion picces that often condemn 
U.S. actions here. The beauty of the 
female form and your light humor more 
than compensate for political differences 
—and I imagine a lot of the men here 
agree with such Vietnam critics as Cal- 
braith and Fulbright. I don't happen to 
be among them, but I must say that these 
views are presented logically and are 
always well documented. 

Cpl. John Т. Foster, Jr. 

FPO San Francisco, California. 


DEATH AND NONCONFORMISTS 

Your high standards of fiction certa 
ly didn't suffer with the publication of. 
Isaac Bashevis Singer's The Blasphemer 


(rıaysoy, Мау). To the extent that there 
is a іше of the rebel in all of us, 
the sense of identification with Chazkele 
was sometimes overwhelming. We all 
long to 51у what we think and live as м 
like, but the danger in doing so is the 
same as that that threatens a pink chick- 
en in the hen yard—the rest of the flock 
will peck it to death. Singer's recognition 
of this, and his insight into human nature 
in general, is unequaled among writers 
today. 


Solomon Nanas 
Los Angeles, California 


The Blasphemer is a haunting story, 
one that is very reminiscent of my par- 
ents’ life in Poland before World War 
Two. Singer's skills in narration and 
log, and his ability to understand. 
human emotion, are enormous. And so is 
тылуу talent for selecting the best 
modern fiction. 


Raymond Chmielewski 
Houston, Texas 


ITS A CROC 

Thomas Mario's The Clay's the Thing 
(PLAYBOY, May) is a gastronomic jo 
and fom now on, my kitchen will be as 
well cocked as I am at every dinner 


party I give. 


Marcello Bodoni 
Denver, Colorado. 


FLIMSY EVIDENCE 
Ghoss!, by C. Robert Jennings 
(rLaynoy, May), immensely enjoy- 
able, though not very convincing as to tlie 
actual existence of ghosts. Unfortunately, 
objectivity on th nivestigators 
seems to be quickly lost in a desire for 
notoriety and/or money. Fame for those 
who put down ghosts is exceeded only by 
that for those who сап conjure them up. 
As far as ghost believers and disbelievers 
е concerned (and this applies to Jen- 
gs as well), the position of ghosts in 
modern society is ideally established— 
frequendy heard but not quite seen. 
Rafael Gallway 
Chicago, Illinois 


art of 


Lady Varleys encounter with the 
phantom monks had a sequel not men- 
tioned by Jennings. The next morning. 
trying to remember the chant they had 
been singing, she picked out Ше tune оп 
a hall piano. A countrywoman who wa 

isiting then said, “Oh! So you heard 
them last night. too!” 

Margaret Rutherford 
Buckinghamshire, England 

Miss Rutherford, one of England’s na- 
tonal treasures, has starred on the stage 
and in films since 1925. 


Ouija boards may outsell Monopoly 
sets and Sybil Leek may be able to take a 
census of the ghosts in a house by merely 
walking in the front door, but my bet is 


you'll get a lot of mail from idiots who 
put down ghosts just because they've 
never seen one. Chances аге, man 
people have seen ghosts and immediately 
denied it to themselves because its not 
the "in" thing to believe in them. Au- 
thor Jennings has done your r 
service by marshaling the cvide 
proving, as in the case of flying s 
the Loch Ness monster and the 
nable Snowman, that there is, 
something out there. Despite our vast 
scientific knowledge, the fact remains 
that we know litte of what lics just be. 
yond the veil. 


Bob Smith 
Tucson, Arizon 


Ghosts, by С. Robert Jennings, is 
cual, enjoyable, well-researched. piece, 
with all the brighteyed objectivity of a 
man who's never seen a ghost and good- 
humoredly tolerates those who have. I 
once enjoyed the same state of igno 
rance, but I had it shaken forever 
winter's night in my grandfather's farm- 
r Bloomington, Illinois. "From 
ghoulies and ghostics and lo 
beasties and things that go bump 
night, Good Lord deliver и 

Ellis McCarthy 

St. Louis. Missouri 


The article about ghosts 
ly first-rate, really fascinating. I'm a be- 
lie the seen, as opposed to the 
unseen. but Jennings’ piece has shaken 
me а little. It’s a pleasure to read an ой 
beat article such as this, and here's hop- 
ing you have more of them in the future. 

James Markoff 
New York, New York 


absolute 


A few years 
work as an 
sioned to еј 


ago, in the course of my 
ppraiser, I was commis 
aluate а parcel of Hudson 
River waterfront. acreage. As part of my 
inspec ade several photographs, 
one of them showing a portion of the 
shore line. with the river in the back- 
ground. To my astonishment, when this 
photo was developed, it showed the faint 
outline of a young girl in a Dutch dress. 
I don't know whether or not to call this 
figure a ghost, but she was (A) invisible 
to me and (В) visible to my са 
and that portion of the Hudson River 
Valley once had a very large Dutch 
population. 


Harold 
Kingstoi 


Macholdt 
New York 


Jennings produced a superb essay and 

his attitude is surprisingly unbiased. Al- 

though he carefully refused to. commit 

himself as to the validity of a paranor- 

mal world, his data certainly makes the 

ау of “Bah, humbug" seem very hollow. 
ATN/3 George Wollmans 
Key West, Florida 


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268. THE SELLING OF 
THE PRESIDENT 1968. 
Joe McGinnis 


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Jobn Fowles. Christiaan Barnard and 


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166. GOING ALL THE WAY 
Dan Wakefield. 
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184. SUCH GOOD FRIENDS 
Lois Benjamin Gould. 
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82. CODE OF CONDUCT 
Elliott Arnold. 
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165. SINCE SILENT SPRING 
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64, CHARIOTS OF THE GODS? 
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Leslie Alexander Lacy- 
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161. THE SHATTERED DREA} 
Herbert Hoover and 

the Great Depression 
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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


jL long ago, we ventured off Broad- 
NS ay to catch a remarkable double bill 
—The Unseen Hand plus Forensic and. 
the Navigators—that was soon to close but 
turned out to be better than the New 
York critics had indicated in their death 
notices. We didn't know, as we entered 
the Astor Place Theaters unprepossess- 
ing lobby, that the lean, long-haired 
drummer whaling away in the corner as 
part of a high-decibel group known as 
Lothar and the Hand People was the 
author himself: 26-year-old Sam Shepard, 
who also wrote Operation Sidewinder 
(reviewed on page 34), a savage comic 
suip satire concurrently installed at Lin- 
сот Center's Vivian Beaumont Theater; 
who had won a fistful of off Broadway 
Obies for such short plays as Red Cross 
and Chicago; who had co-authored the 
scenario of Michelangelo Antonioni's 
controversial Zabriskie Point; and who 
had provided Oh! Calcutta! with one 
of its more ellective blackouts, about a 
country boy literally killing 
with a graphic description of sexual de 
Though Shepard has been de 
scribed by some as the “great white 
hope” of the new American theater, New 
York Times critic Clive Barnes found his 
last works imposible to understand, 
adding that “Shepard writes good dispos- 
able plays, and may become known as 
the man who became i0 drama what 
Kleenex was to the handkerchiel. 
Undeterred by Barnes, we trekked one 
muggy afternoon to Shepard's pad, a 
white Colonial house in lower Green- 
wich Village, where Shepard himself 
answered the door in beige Indian mocca- 
sins, red bell-bottoms, striped. polo shirt 
jacket. Shaking the hair out 
of his eyes, he turned off the stereo and 
introduced his wife, асте» O-Lan. John- 
son, a sandabshod dumpling of a girl, 
many months pregnant, who was dressed 
in homespun hippie garb. The Shepards 
were on their way out to purchase a 
hammock for their back yard, but there 
would be time for us to stop at Emilio's, 
a neighborhood garden restaurant with 
its greenery and stray cats concealed by a 
dingy barroom full of old men watching 
television. 


his father 


When we arrived, Shepard chose a 
shady spot under a са tree, mopped 
some wine and food stains from a long 
white marble table, ordered spaghetti 
with meat sauce and began discussing 
himself in the diffident manner of a man 
who can think of countless better things 
to do. He was as unimpressed by the 
success of Operation Sidewinder and Oh! 
Calcutta! as he was undismayed by the 
icy reception accorded his recent off- 
Broadway bill. “The people the critics 
write for aren't important to me,” Shep- 
ard said. "As far as I'm concerned, Broad- 
way just doesn't exist." 

In response to the criticisms of those 
who can't identify with his characters— 
the protagonist of Sidewinder is a snake- 
like computer that controls the U.S. 
defense establishment; and the dramatis 
personae of The Unseen Hand include an 
outerspace freak, a (rio of old-Western 
badmen (two of whom are resurrected 
fiom the dead) and a contemporary all- 
American boy who seems to be a hybrid 
of Andy Hardy and Mao Tsetung— 
Shepard merely shrugged and explained 
somewhat enigmatically, “I'm trying to 
creare mythological characters, to do 
things that are completely American.” 

Shepard himself is a quintesen 
Amcrican product, born in Fort Sheri- 
dan, Hlinois, and raised in California 
in his own words, "an arrogant, horrible, 
asshole kid" who wanted, of all things, to 
be а farmer sed sheep in Duarte, 
California, and belonged to the Four-H 
club, and had a grand-champion yearling 
ewe at the Los Angeles County Fair." 
Alter studying agriculture for three 
terms at Mount San Antonio College in 
Walnut, California, Shepard decided on 
impulse to become an actor, “Best thing 
1 did was join the Bishop's Company on 
a bus-and-truck tour all the way to New 
England. We performed in churches, 
right at the altar, adaptations of novels 
by Rumer Godden, Alan Paton, like 
that. We even did Winnic-the-Pooh." 

As a drummer, he also spent a year 
and a half on tour as a member of the 
Holy Modal Rounders, the group that 
performed with his play at Lincoln Center; 


but he's grateful to have reached a 
point in his career where drums are a 
mere diversion from playwriting. "I 
think I see more and more how to keep 
out of the big commercial-theater scene: 
by limiting myself to а small cast and 
one minimal set. O-Lan is teaching mc 
to play guitar and my next project will 
be a stage musical. I don't like to talk 
about it, because ideas get 
stolen. But it will have something to do 
with genocide in America.” That would 
seem to be a lessthan-promising theme 
for a musical—but considering the grim 
state of the Union and the fashionable 
masochism that seems to be current 
among avant-garde theatergocrs, it's more 
than likely to be + эр; success 


too much 


resound 


All power to the police for rescuing a 
friend of ours from almost certain assault 
and battery. It happened this way. Ош 
friend, a debonair and manly Manhat- 
inite, was strolling along Park Avenue 
on his way back to work from lunch, 
thinking long summer thoughts, when he 
unwittingly wandered into the midst of a 
militant feminist demonstration in front 
of his office building. He became fully 
aware of this only when one of the 
distaff picketers, whom he'd almost blun- 
dered into as he made for the entrance, 
accosted him as follows: "Don't try to 
push me, you son of a bitch! I know 
your kind —you wouldn't know how to 
talk to а woman as an equal if you 
wanted to. And you don't. Women to 
you are for balling, I сап tell by the way 
you look at me just because I'm not wear 
ing a bra. You'd like to fuck me, right? 
Go aliad and admit it, you filthy bas 
tard.” To which our friend replied, “Only 
if you get a vasectomy first, Butch.” 
At which point the lady charged, picket 
sign held aloft like an execution- 
er's ax; at which point a policeman 
grasped the picket зай from behind the 
outraged amazon, bringing her to a 
screeching halt; at which point our friend 
entered his building and took the cle- 
vator to his office, fecling guilty about 
leaving his rescuer to the mercies of the 
gentlesex storm troopers and humming 


19 


PLAYBOY 


20 


to himself the 
of which the refrai 
lot is not a happy one. 

Its the custom in Hong Kong for 
business establishments to display their 
names in Chinese characters and, therc- 
under, in English transliteration. Th 
lead to some bemusement for the 
Occidental traveler who ties to figure 
out the nature of a business from its 
name. Someone we know has sent us a 
Polaroid shot of one such enterprise that 
really set us to wondering what gocs on 
behind its portals. The sign reads simply, 
пом TAI тоок. 


an song 
А policeman's 


са 


Our Outstanding Expense Account of 
the Year Award goes to the writer 
charged with researching De Sade before 
it was filmed. He was flown to Hamburg, 
Germany, to spend a hectic week on the 
Reeperbahn, the city’s notorious red- 
light district, and turned in this itemized 
account: "Party for 24 transvestites, 
$410; supper for 27 homosexuals, $305; 
midnight swim party for 28 Lesbians. 
5130; farewell dinner gala for 21 mas 
ochists and 21 sadists, $550: rest cure 
Garmisch-Partenkirchen, $1850. 

The Chicago Tribune reports this inci- 
dent of poetic justice and div 
vention from Birmingham, 
“Leslie Nadin was fed up with thieves 
s general store, so he 
a booby trap by removing the 
boards from а hallway where the bu 
glars always broke in. The тар worked 
perfectly when Nadin, 49, stepped into 
the hallway and tumbled cight feet ii 
cellar littered with broken glass. He was 
mitted to 
ribs and severe cuts. Told that prayers 
were being said for him in а local church, 
Nadin replied: ‘With my luck, it's a 
wonder the church wasn't struck by light: 
ning.” It wi А bolt blew the fuses, 
extinguished the lights and put the organ 
out of action." 


Ever zealous im their efforts to stem 
the celluloid flow of sex and violence, 
Boston apers carried a movie ad 
ig (no one under 18 ad. 
mitted without parent or guardian) for 
Walt Disney's Peter Pan. 


Several members of Congress were su 


prised to discover that the Small Bu: 
ness Administration lent $11,000 to the 
Body Shoppe in Denver before di 
ng it wasn't a garage but a str 
joint. 


Music and pet lovers will be interested 
fo learn that “Rats exposed carly to 
music of Mozart and Schoenberg,” ac 
cording to a behavioral study conducted 
y of Michigan, "show a 
Jater life for other music 


strong 


by the composer they were raised on and 
reject the composer they were not raised 
on,” 

“Dear John" letters, an unfortunately 
common occurrence during World. War 
Two and the Korcan War, no longer 
shake up the troops—at least not i 
U.S. Fourth In 
nam. Such letters are now submitted to 
a committee of Gls, and a “Dear John 
Award" is sent cach month to some lucky 
lady for her subtlety and originality. 


mento, California, filling station: DRIVE 
CAREFULLY, YOU AS WELL AS YOUR CAR 
MAY BE RECALLED BY THE MAKER. 

Many of us have long thought that 
the only issue on which people are agreed 
s the need to save our environment. 
But we hadn't counted on the Daughters 
of the American Revolution. At the 
D. A. R's 79th annual Continental Con- 
gress, the 2000 assembled delegates brand- 
ed the environment movement “distorted 
and exaggerated,” and one delegate went 
оп to call it “one of the subversive ele- 
ments last steps. They've gone after the 
military and the police and now they're 
after our parks and playgrounds.” 


A Vancouver man was ordered by a 
provincialcourt judge to avoid ma 
anyone pregnant for three years. The 
judge, concerned over a presentence re- 
port that the defendant had caused three 
outoL-wedlock pregnancies, gave him a 
suspended. three-year sentence [or posses- 
sion of an offensive weapon. 


ACTS AND 
ENTERTAINMENTS 


Filty ye: the Cocoanut Grove 
opened with a decor hallmarked by a 
topic zone of palm trees and monkeys. 
Today, with a new name—the New Grove 
—and sans cocoanuts and chimps, the 
club has gone Late Las Vegas. The 
glittcringly grafted onto 
Ambassador Hotel on Los 
ts new la- 


сайе and interior done up in World's 
Fair Modern cheerfully ignore the par- 
ent hotel's h то! that incon- 


gruously surrounds it, Aesthetics aside 
the newly titled Grove has caught on 
with its policy of serving up superstars 
and full-blown revues. Ambassador pre: 
dent Hugh Wiley gave Sammy Davis Jr. 
the show-booking chores, with only one 
mandate—to pull them in, and he's 
done just that. Sam the Talent Booker 
wisely opened the Grove with the Sam- 
my Davis Jr. revue. Then he booked the 
scusate and suave Diahann Carroll; thc 
mmy Durante Show followed and, 
through the waning days of May, The 
F in an appearance. 


Scheduled to star were Anthony Newley, 
Sergio Mendes, Diana Ross, Ray Charles 
and Johnny Mathis. The room, with its 
1000-plus capacity, can best be described 
as cavernous. Tiers of tables rise from 
all sides of the show floor. The walls are 
ilver and black, the carpeting а blend 
of orange, purple and black. A wide 
bandstand—constructed to split amid- 
ships for a rising runway to camy the 
sars—dominates the room. When the 
backdrop of deep purple falls away, a 
battery of varicolored spotlights bui 
into the production booth high above 
the tables takes over. The management 
boasts that there isn't a blind spot in the 
house, and, indeed, there may be none 
from ringside to topmost tier. The music 
t the Now Grove is a moon shot away 
from the businessman’s bounce of Fred- 
dy Martin, a Grove fixture for decades. 
The baton is now in the hip hand of 
George Rhodes, whose orchestra is well 
salted with such friendly jazz faces as 
st Herb Ellis, trombonist Jimmy 
Cleveland and longtime Basie man M 
shall Royal punching a requisite pizzazz 
nto the saxes. What's more, the band, 
With its top-notch jazzrock dance fare, 
works—not only in superb support ol 
the shows but in getting the di 
audiences out onto the floor. For re 
tions, telephone 386-5522. 


nner 


BOOKS 


Irving Howe, cminent literary critic 
and political analyst, has the distinction 
of wanting to be true and humane rath- 
er than original and shocking. His latest 
book of essitys, Decline of the New (Har- 
court, Brace & World), makes a sober 
effort to re-evaluate the heritage of liter- 
ary modernism. Addressing himself to 
the fabled “common reader"—the man 
who reads Joyce and Cervantes, Kafka 
and Thomas Hardy with the same dis- 
cerning pleasure—Howe ranges from the 
virtues and limitations of the culture of 
modernism to the recent garbled history 
of the New York intellectuals. When he's 
Шу in tune with his subject. 
moving essays on Istac Bashevis 
Singer, George Orwell and Ignazio Si- 
lone, he really does tell the common 
reader something new and illumi 
but when, as in his essays on Céline 
so-called post-modern fiction, he venture 
into adjoining territory, where ser 
and y count for more than ju 
diciousness and decorum. he becomes 
slightly pompous. On balance, though, 
he is one of our most intelligent critics 
and has here made а notable attempt to 
solid causeway across the bogs 
lands of the present-day intel- 
scene. In the anthology Beyond 
the New Left (McCall), Howe appears in 
his second important role as socialist and 
democrat, writing a roundup introduc- 
tion to this series of essays by political 


fan 


Gordons. 
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Add slice of lemon or lime. 


Brrrrr! Gordon's Collins. 

Would we change even one ingredient in Gordon's Gin? 
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Gordon's Dry Gin. Juice of !/2 lemon. Pour into highball 
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highball glass with ice cubes, and fill with ginger ale. Add. 
slice of orange if desired. 


e 

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When you're the biggest seller in England, America, the 
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Gordon's Dry Gin. Squeeze juice from 1/2 lime and add, 
with the rind, to highball glass with ice cubes. Fill with 
soda water, stir. 


21 


PLAYBOY 


thinkers as diverse and exciting as Theo- 
dore Draper, Richard Lowenthal, Paul 


Goodman, Lewis Coser and Michael Har- 
rington. Can the need of the young for 
roaring revolutionary psjchodrama bc 


tamed and brought into line with the 
patient politics of reform and recon- 
struction? Howe and most of his asso- 
ciates in this volume think that it can 
d should, that a “strategy of coalition” 
must supplant the "passions of insur- 


gency.” To this end, they have covered 
almost every aspect of todays New 


Left scene, from Fanon and Debray to 
Marcuse and the Black Panthers. Any- 
one wishing to get a clear report on 
these matters could do much worse than 
read this book. On the other hand, it's 
unlikely to set anyone's mind and heart 
throbbing with visions of a revitalized 
socialism. If Goodman is right and the 
world is undergoing а change in values 
as vast and earthshaking as the Protes- 
tant Reformation (a review of his book 
оп the subject starts on this page), with 
the young people confusedly reflec: 
this stormy transition, then a great d 
of what is said here may be reasonable, 
even just, but finally irrelevant. Not only 
m but also such worthy notions 


left wing of the Democratic Party) may 
simply be outmoded responses to a 
ation that has changed more radically 
than these middle-aged radicals can 
imagine or admit. 


Dan Wakefield demonstrates in Going 
All the Way (Delacorte) that you don’t 
have to be Jewish to suffer. Willard 
"Sonny" Burns, fresh out of the Service, 
surrounded by as many parents as Port- 
noy ever despaired of, proves that you 
don't even have to know a. Jew to inherit 
your share of woe. It comes with being 
alive. And having parents, And sccing 
the world, even a little, with the eyes of 
a victim. Sonny is neither a “Jock” nor 
a “Big Rod” but just a sort of aver- 
ican boy with a heart full of 
speration and a head full of da 
night, fantasy-fed, hard-core là 
ness. Early in the novel, Sonny teams up 
th Gi ner selman, erstwhile letter- 
man, make-out artist and now a Purple 
Heart vet questioning values. Together, 
the boys spend an uneasy, transitional 
summer in their home town of Indianap- 
olis, trying to situate themselves in a 
community that asks no more of them 
than that they act as if the world they 
have discovered doesn’t exist. Going All 
the Way is as traditionally American as 
French fries or pizza: a story of disillu- 
sion and departure. What Wakefield has 
done is to add a few personal touches 
that make this first novel a funny, touch- 
ing piece of fiction. The quality of in- 
genuousness that Sonny tries so hard to 
shed is the quality that gives the novel 


ive. 


ither Sonny nor his creator 
reaches beyond the natural limits of his 
style; but when Sonny, at a critical point 
the story, looks up and sces that 
“beyond a scruffy stretch of woodland, 
the sun collided with the flat horizon 
and began to bleed,” we know the na- 


8 
ture of his heart and of the author's art. 


The shots that killed John Kennedy 
and Martin Luther King still echo in the 
stream of books and articles that postu- 


late new assassination theories ranging 
from plausible plots to p: deh 
sions. The two latest entries in this field 


will disappoint the conspiracists; cach 
examines the motives and personality of 
those assumed to be the riflemen, sauti- 
nizes the facts and concludes that simple 
explanations come closest to the truth. 
In He Slew the Dreamer (Delacorte), Wil- 
liam Bradford Huic has the journalistic 
integrity to abandon the conspiracy the- 
t originally inspired his study of 
Earl Ray—and that would have 
more sensational book. As the 
author patiently unravels the mysteries 
of the anonymous “fat man,” the unu- 
sual aliases, the Canadian pasport and 
the sources of Ray's money, the reader is 
left with a depressingly clear picture of a 
lon nd a loser whose singular endow- 
ment may have been the neurotic capabil- 
ity of planning a murder and inventing 
a headline-making conspiracy. Somewhat 
less successfully (and more tediously), AL 
ber Н. Newman attempts to fathom the 
motives of Lee Harvey Osw 
Assassination of John F. Kennedy, the Reasons 
Why (Potter), The result is an exper 
ment in “sustained deductive inquiry" 
that closely approaches mind reading. 
By examining Oswald in the context of 
his own statements, his known actions 
and contemporary news events, Newma 
ates the Warn 
conclusions—that Oswald was а 
Jone assassin acting out of impulse and 
opportunity. Newman attaches great si 

cance to the attempted. shoo! 
General Edwin Walker, whom the author 
feels was the crucial person/target in 
understanding Oswald's actions both be- 
fore and immediately after the shooting 
of President Kennedy. But the 


leads to speculation sometimes as wild 
as the complex plots of rival theor 
life ot the Limit (Coward McCann) 

the enjoyable, informative and frequent- 
ly humorous autobiography of English 
racing driver Graham Hill. Written from 
a hospital bed while Hill was recuperat- 
ing from injuries sustained during the 
1969 U.S. Grand Prix at Watkins Glen 
New York, the book serves 
lent introduction to the world of Ся 


Prix driving and drivers. Hill, of course, 


is among the premier. performers of the 


pro tour: Twice world champion, three 
times runner-up, he is the only man ever 
to capture a major road race (the Mona- 
co Grand Prix) five times. Hill's career 
started in 1953, when he paid 70 cents a 
lap to drive an old Formula Ш Cooper 
around the track at Brand's Hatch, Eng- 
land. By 1958, he was in Grand Prix 
competition: "The first time I went 
down the straight at Spa-Francorchamps 
in Belgium, where the car was able to 
reach its true top speed, I was absolutely 
scared stiff. The car kept going faster 
ad faster and the road seemed to get 
narrower and narrower, until I just 
backed off the throttle in a blue funk, 
went back into the pits and had a bit of 
a think, 1 decided that I wasn't cut out 
to be a racing driver after all . . . then 1 
got back in my car and in a few laps I 
Bot the hang of it, and eventually it 
илт worry me at all.” Hill went on to 
pull off such feats as winning the Indian- 
apolis 500 in his fi 
1968, Hill and teammate Jimmy C 
were entered in a race at Hockenhei 
Germany; Clark was killed when his car 
went off the road and crashed into trees. 
Remembering Clark, Hill writes, "He 
was a fighter whom you could never 
shake off and whom you never dared un- 
ate. . .. He was an ideal racing 
ag from his racing record 
and Life at the Limit, so is Graham Hill. 


Stanley El ders of The Eighth 
le know, writes an intelligent mys- 
tery that no one need be ashamed to 
be seen reading in public. His new sus- 
pense novel, The Bind (Random ү; 
finds [re пѕигапсе 
Јаке Dekker on a stakcout in Miami 
Beach, uying to disprove a $200,000 
double-indemnity claim by Ше widow of 
one Walter Thoren. If Jake can provide 
evidence that "Thoren's death was not 
accidental, he gets $100,000. If he can 
prove nothing, he gets nothing. The free- 
booting American reduced to its 
essentials. There’s a complication, though. 
Jake has brought with him a bright, good- 
looking exactress to pose as his wife 
while he takes up residence near the 
Thoren family, Reluctantly on both sides, 
they become "пої At several 
points, there are what the girl takes to 
be opportunities for Jake to choose be- 
tween her and the money—and he al- 
ways seems to lean dangerously close to 
the money. At the end, he leans even 
closer. There is а quality to this ending 
not unlike that of Dashiell Hammett’s 
The Maltese Falcon, and you can't say 
much more than that for a suspense story. 
‘We arc on the eve of a forma- 
tion ol conscience,” Paul Goodman as- 
serts in New Reformation: Notes of o Neolithic 
Conservative (Random House). “The en- 
relationship of science, technology 


rea 


ed. 


If you could put Tareyton's 
charcoal filter on your cigarette, 
you'd have abetter cigarette. 


But notas good asaTareyton. 


RRI R£ 


m t. P v 
20 CIGARETTES 


Zeezreyee2 


PLAYBOY 


and social needs both in men's minds 
and in facts" will have to be changed if 
Goodman's analysis is correct. Scientists, 
for instance, will have to fight for the 
proper use of their work and "inform 
and alter the public" Young people, 
now experiencing what Goodman terms 
a “religiosity” of communing with one 
another—music and drugs being among 
their sacraments—must go on to purge 
and humanize the priorities of science, 
technology and civil institutions. The re- 
sult, will be autono- 
mous, ethic: Чопай» doing humane 
work, As an anarchist, his strong prefer- 
ence is for maximi decentraliza 
of tive and decision making. But 
Goodman has a practical as well as a 
utopian bent and offers as one model 
an American adaptation of “the so-called 
Scandinavian or mixed economy, of big 
d small capitalism, producers’ and con- 
sumers cooperatives, independent farm- 
ing and state and municipal socialism, 
cach with a strong influence. To this I 
would add a sector of pure communism, 
frec appropriation adequate for decent 
poverty for those who do not want to 
make money or are too busy with non- 
paying pursuits to make money. . . ." 
There is much more in these ntegrally 
‘ted probings into the possibilities 
of ending the alienation and impotence 
any now feel. Goodman's book will 
turn olf apocalyptic revolutionaries, but 
it has a great deal to say to those who 
have not forgotten that “participatory 
democracy was the chief idea in the Port 
Huron Statement, the founding charter 
of Students for a Democratic Society. 
Goodman remains a true bel n that 
idea and a prodigiously innovative pro- 
vider of suggestions to make it work, so that 
we cin live together “with a minimum of 
envy, pointless riv 


the trauscendenrally wacky cartoon. 
world of Temi Ungerer’s Compromises (Far- 
, Straus & Giroux), anything at all 
is liable to happen: A glutton’s head 
replaced by a chicken: caterpillars 
crawl through а woman's body to be- 
come butterilics; а yoyeuristic God lifts 
up rooftops He occasionally takes a 
swipe at something poli (grubby 
New Left members are shown riding in 
an elongated convertible, with a 
strous hammer and sickle age) or 
something abstract (“А Nick of Time' 


mon- 
as ba 


represented by а clock pendulum 
slicing through a man's head), But Unger- 
ers favorite subject is sex; A cigar 
chomping male fancics that his phallus is 


a snarling bulldog and a girl recites a 
variation on "He loves me . . . loves me 
not” while plucking from a scro- 
tum that has been detached from its 
owner. Women get especially harsh treat- 
ment: They make subservient males hold 
the files while they sharpen their claws, 


or the dustpans while they straddle their 
brooms in naked, satanic ecstasy; their 
breasts are variously pictured as egg beat- 
ers, footballs or—when milady swims 


cles. Wicked, indeed. 


Ships have been used before in fiction 
microcosms, but hardly ever to more 
ominous effect than in А Quiet Voyage 
Home (Little, Brown). Richard Jessup 
takes the 5.5. New York, "finest ship in 
the world,” as his stage for a shattering 
youth/age confrontation that, unde: 
cutting all ideologies, resolves itself in 
terms of gut reaction and raw power. 
What the "now" generation wants, ac- 
cording to Jessup’s reading of student 
riots, is a dominant role in the leader- 
ship of society. Thwarted, it may resort 
to anarchy. Anarchy is in the blood of 
Indian, the cold-eyed, Cassiuslean pro- 
tagonist of the story. A product of Amer- 
ica’s Midwest, he has studied, the better 
to subvert. the various power structures 
of American society, beginning with that 
of the football field. Heading home 
aboard the New York from the Paris 
student riots of May 1968, he finds him- 
self with an opportunity to put his 
knowledge and will to the test. The cap- 
tain and crew form the ship's power 
structure, the first- and. second-class ра 
ngers its silent majority, the 1600 stu 
dents jammed into tourist class its restless 


youth. With youth power his aim and 
destruction his means, Indian sets about 
creating an “issu up behind it 


both freaks and squares among the stu- 
dents in one clamorous unit and launch- 
ing his attack upon 
The ship's doctor 
understands this kind of game without 
rules, and there is an Army colonel who 
is ready to learn it; but it’s the power 
play between the captain, the symbol of 
entrenched authority, and Indian, the 
symbol of hungry youth, that decides the 
course of action. Out of the turmoil of 


events, the logic of cold debate and the 
the 


well-knit structure of 

emerges—simple yet u 

rent warning to age. This most unquiet 

voyage home is an exciting, swift and 

ining parable of what may hap- 

is already happening 
р of state. 


novel, there 
.— youths cui 


So many books on the military-indus- 
trial complex have been appearing these 
days that one more hardly seems песеѕ- 
sary; but Pentegon Copitelism (McGraw- 
Hill) by Seymour Melman may be the 
best of a good bunch. Although a con- 
demnation of the Pentagon, which Mel- 
man believes has long swallowed up the 
White House and the State Department, 
there is nothing strident about this book. 
Sober, matter-of-fact, slightly dull and 
sometimes impenetrable when the author 
quotes from Government procurement 
handbooks or discusses management tech- 


niques, Pentagon Capitalism nonetheless 
tells a horror story in which we're all the 
victims. A professor of industrial engineer- 
ing, Melman declares that we are a full 
decade into the postmilitary-indust 
complex period. If he’s right, it’s 


the 
Pentagon that dominates big business, not 


the other way around; and the Vietnam 
war is the result not of capitalistic im- 
perialism but of the insatiable institu- 
tional need of the “state-management” 
war machine to grow and perpetuate it- 
sel. What Melman says is no less than. 
that other Vietnams are inevitable and 
that our lives and liberties are imperiled 
we swiftly and decisively slash the 
political, economic and military powers 
of the Pentagon—an admonition more 
easily uttered than accomplished. But 
Pentagon Capitalism is a treasure of fact 
and analysis not only of how Pentagon- 
ism has meant a militaristic foreign 
policy but of how it 
almost cvery aspect of American life to 
a degree that we are just beginning to 
comprehend. 


Belore pop art became all the 
artist Larry Rivers was using fami 
images from lverti: 
from nd such objects 
as cigarette packages, cigar boxes, flags 
and the good old bank note to create 
and convey the world of his mind's ey 
nce then, he has continued to go his 
own special way. using the techniques of 
abstraction without ever losing touch 
with real people in a real world. For, 
unlike some of his jazzier contemporar- 
ies, Rivers is à highly competent drafts- 
man, Now, in Lorry Rivers (Abrams), Sam 
Hunter, professor of art history at Prince- 
ton. puts the artist's carcer into perspec- 
tive with the help of 220 illustrations, 52 
of them in full color. This hearty volume 
provides an incomparable opportunity to 
explore the progress and achievements 
of a brilliant contemporary carcer. 


м; Kitman, the renowned scholar, 
Presidential candidate and rAvnov сот 
tributor, was working on The Making 
of a President 1789. In the course of his 
research, as readers of our February 1970 
issue will recall, he came upon the me 
ulous memoranda kept by George Wash- 
ington that comprise the basis for 
George Washington's Expense Account (Si 
mon & Schuster). Like the article from 
which it was expanded, the book is a 
formidable historical document that less- 
er scholars will envy for its thoroughne: 
subtlety and interpretive skill. "The 
her of his Country—and of the 
expense-account way of life that sustains 
it—was, of course, a wealthy man who 
offered to lead the ant-imperialist strug- 
gle for no salary. Fair is fair, however, so 
the Congress agreed to reimburse him 
for expenses. Honest George charged off 
not only household expenses, including 


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PLAYBOY 


imported linen and madeira by the case, 
but servants wages, undercover agents 
and even his wife's trips to the front, The 
bill for the cight years from June 1775 


to June 1783, duly audited and paid 
without a murmur by a Congressional 
committee (which happened to be headed 
by а crony) came to $449,261.51. When 
Wi 


shington offered to serve as President 
hout salary, just expenses. the Con- 
gress, which had learned a thing or two, 
chose instead to give him 525,000 per 
annum. Kitman fanciers can have more 
of him in a new collection of his maga- 
zine pieces (including several from 
PLAYBOY) titled You Сап? Judge a Book by 
Iis Cover (Weybright & Talley). A gener- 
oussampling of a genial wit. 

When two books on ап identical 
theme are published in the same week, 
comparison, though odious, is also in- 
structive, Encounter (Grossman) by sociolo- 
gy professor John Mann and Marathon 16 
(Putnam) by psychiatrist Martin Shep- 
ard and his collaborator Marjorie Lee 
offer dramatized accounts of group psy- 
chotherapy encounters. Marathon 16 is 
1 edited transcript of а tape-recorded 
16-hour session; Encounter is a fictional 
reconstruction of an actual weekend 
meeting. Both attempt to show how a 
number of strangers, meeting for the first 
time, can talk and act with such ruthless 
honesty that each of them is ultimately 
obliged to see himself not only more 
dearly but more kindly, And both books 
fail for the same reason: The truly d 
matic conflicts being waged within the 
consciousness of each person appear only 
on the conversational surface. Encounter, 
which tries to convey a decper sense of 
ternal struggle, only draws attention to 
its contrived technique, Marathon 16, by 
contrast, is a sound track іп print and 
thus has some of the impact of eaves 
dropping. The overheard conversation is 
often boring, banal, predictable—but 
equally often, it is laced with human 
pain, fear, loneliness and the longing to 
be loved. Marathon 16 ends with Di 
Shepard's asking the participants to join 
him in stripping away the last of their 
concealments—their clothing. As they 
react to his request, the individual re- 
sponses of the five men and five women 
reveal the inner self more nakedly than 
the body itself. 


DINING-DRINKING 


"There uscd to be two good reasons for 
visiting fiscal firemen spending time on 
Wall Street and its tributaries: The lairs 
of the burgeoning conglomerates were on 
“the street” and nearby were the fabled 
Fulton Fish Market restaurants. Now, the 
conglomerates have moved to glass palaces 
in midtown and there is a superb new sea- 
food restaurant that will serve the needs 
of the most finicky of fish fanatics. Joe's 


Pier 52 (144 West 52nd Street) is owned 
by Broadway producer Joe (Applause, 
High Button Shocs, La Plume de Ma 
Tante) decor is a smashing 


signer. Seaweed green, skyblue and yard- 
arm brown are the dominating colors, 
from the thick carpets up through the 
table settings to the beamed ceiling. 
Miniature sailingship models, figure- 
heads from sloops and beautiful prints 
of whalers right out of Herman Melville 
are all so elegant that they make the 
clamshell and fish-net atmosphere of 
other seafood joints seem low camp. The 
menu appears to contain nearly ever! 
thing edible that grows in salt or fresh 
water. The red snapper is particularly 
good—broiled in its own juices, like the 
other fish on the list. Joe's stone crabs, 
flown in daily from Florida, are a spe- 
cialty served with a pungent mustard 
sauce. On Fridays and Saturdays, a huge 
Bouillabaisse Marseillaise is offered. After 
tliat, you'll find that you have little room 
en a mninnow’s share of 
the two flagships of the dessert menu— 
Mississippi Pecan Pic and Chocolate 
Cheesecake, The latter is so rich and good 
it must be illegal. Joe's Pier 52 is open all 
week from noon until two А.М. and reser- 
ations are definitely in order (245-6652). 


left on board for ev 


MOVIES 


Readers who said they were never able 
to wade through Cateh-22 should find 
smoother sailing through the movie vei 
sion of Joseph Heller's brilliantly lunatic 
novel about a U. S. bomber squadron in 
Italy during World War Two. It's one 
hell of a film, shrewdly updated by 
ector Mike Nichols and scena 
comedian Buck Henry (Nichols collab- 
orator on The Graduate, who also 
doubles here in the role of Lieutenant 
Colonel Korn) to make meaningful satire 
for the Seventies. In the final scene of 
Catch-22, Alan Arkin as Heller's hero, 
Captain Yosarian, launches а frail yel- 
low rubber raft onto the wide blue sea— 
making one last heroic bid to escape 
from war, venality, stupidity and all the 
wellestablished practices that threaten 
the very survival of mankind. It's a crazy 
gesture but one sure to be instantly un- 
derstood by alienated youth and any 
among us who see, as Heller saw, a mad, 
mad world full of “people cashing in on 
every decent impulse and every human 
tragedy.” Catch-22 on film is cold, savage 
and chilling comedy that inspires uneasy 
laughter about the sickness of the times, 
in the memorable tradition of Dr. 
Strangelove, and also firmly establishes 
Nichol place in the front rank of 
American directors. Though obviously 
indebted to such European masters as 
Fellini, Nichols (shooting over schedule 
and officially over budget for a total of 
some $15,000,000, though unofficial ap- 


praisals range much higher) finds a free 
and fluid personal style that transforms 
the nightmare world of the novel into 
a turbulent stream of consciousness flow 
ing from the feverish brain of Yossari: 
The movie's subjective approach is in- 
consistent at times, and some minor 
details of plot may well befuddle non- 
readers; but mostly. the pieces fall into 
place with astonishing regularity. When 
a flight of B-25 bombers rises like star- 
lings into a misty dawn and gocs winging 
away while real birds begin to sing 
through the sudden quiet of an airfield, 
Catch-22 poetically and succinctly states 
its attitude toward the bloody violence to 
come—and an audience can relax, co 
fident that sensitive professionals are 
charge. Starting with Arkin, whose finest 
screen performance to date makes Yos 
sarian seem а cross between Don Quix- 
ote and the Good Soldier Schweil 
mammoth company of actors delivers its 
cryptic dialog in the well-calculated and 
perfectly timed Nichols manner. Stand- 
outs indude Anthony Perkins as the un- 
certain Chaplain Tappman; Richard 
Benjamin as Major Danby; Art Gar- 
funkel (of Simon &) in а surprisingly 
able stint as the naive Nately, who falls 
in love with a corpulent Roman street- 
walker and intends to take her home to 
Long Island; Jon Voight, very sharp, 
indeed, as Minderbinder, the super- 
capitalis; and Bob Newhart who all 
but steals the show in one inimitable 
scene as а neurotic major named Major. 
Orson Welles, Martin Balsam, Paula 
Prentiss, Jack Gilford and Martin Sheen 
also pop up from time to time, doing 
their bits to persuade you that Catch-22 
would be an important event in any 
movie year. M.A.S.H., move over. 

The Strawberry Stotement is the most ex- 
iting and cogent movie about youth 
since Easy Rider. No simpleminded song 
of revolution, Statement was adapted by 
off Broadway playwright Israel Horovitz 
from Jamcs Simon Kunen's best seller, in 
diary form, about his experiences during 
the Columbia student revolts in 1968. In 
Horovitz’ fictional version, which gains 
impact from 1970 crescendos of vio- 
lence on campuses across the U. S, the 
truth blazes—and the truth hurts. The 
protagonist, played by 23-year-old Bruce 
Davison (the blond troublemaker of 
Last Summer) to offhand perfection, is a 
fairly average student at a California 
university, a lip-service liberal who be- 
longs to the rowing crew and looks upon 
causes with a diffident smile. His growing 
self-awareness begins when he drifts into 
a student strike against R.O.T.C, de- 
fense research, blind authoritarianism 
and a university plan to house its mi 
tary establishment in a building Шаг 
displace a playground for children of a 
nearby ghetto. The film's seemingly 
irrelevant title derives from an actual 
statement made by a faculty spokesman 


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8mm photography comes of age with it. Your camera dealer is just waiting 
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PLAYBOY 


Until “Mutton Chops"are regulation, 
you need Canned Protection. 


You have to shave every doy. So you sure could use 
protection against nicks and scrapes and scratches. 

Get it. Canned Protection. 

In every can of Gillette Foamy Shave Cream. 

The richest, thickest lather a guy's stubborn beard 
ever came up against. 

So rich, in fact, that it actually acts as o safety shield. 

Creamy, lubricating agents inside Foamy help prevent 
nicks. They rest on your skin. Glide your blade across 
your skin. Until your shave is finished. 

So you shave close...but you can shave painless. 

Clean and comfortable...with protection against nicks. 

Gillette Foamy Shave Cream. Like putting c 
protective shield on your face. 

Regular. Lemon-Lime. New Surf-Spray. Menthol. 

Choose your weapon—er—can of protection today. 


SHAVE CREAM 
This mon Lemon-lime. New Surf Spray. Ask herl 
Canned Protection. did not need One smells fresh and citrus-y. One smells 
Canned Protection. — like the freshness of ocean whitecops. 
M Yau dal Either one, you smell great! 


© The Gillette Company, Boston, Mass. 


Reproduced sound should sound natural. Too often it 
doesn't. And the reason it doesn't is simple; you can't put an 
ocean or an orchestra into your living room. 

The next closest thing to it is the modern stereo receiver, 
but until JVC's S.E.A. receiver came into the picture, even the 
best receivers didn't come close enough. 

The S.E.A. (or Sound Effect Amplifier) system divides th 
entire range of sound into five different frequency zones. in 
each zone, you have complete control over that frequency. This 
lets you draw out sounds that you'd hear in a "live" state, but 
which you couldn't hear with conventional receivers that only 
provide for bass and treble control. It's just more natural and 
it sounds like it. 

Only JVC offers the advanced S.E.A. system as a built-in 
feature of an entire line of stereo receivers from 200 watts to 
40 watts, including Models 5040, 5030, 5020 and 5010. Check 
one out soon at your local exchange or base audio club and 
hear the difference for yourself. 


Doing What Comes Naturally 


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PLAYBOY 


| Dear Petri: 
1 Send me more information 


1 Name: 
1 


1 Address: 


XPlease print clearly.) 


Сла hiangle 


te 


Photo by Y. Tatsuki 


Woman. Man. And a Camera. 


Unless the camera's abilities can cope with the man's imagination, 
he stands to lose a lot. Inside and outside the studio. To pull off 
shots that you can stake your ego on, you need a camera like the 
Petri FT. A high quality singlelens reflex camera that has just 
about all that's new in SLR cameras. Plus a few touches of its own. 
Like a shutter button angled at 30^. Simple but clever because it 


moves at the same angle as your finger action . so less shake. 
Also a special spring to cushion the shock of the quick return mirror 
at fast shutter speeds ... so less blur. 


Feels good, too. Light but not too light. Compact but not too 
small. Not too expensive, either. 

You'll find the Petri FT, plus the extensive range of accessories 
that go with it, at most better camera stores. 


PETRICANERA CO., INC. 25-12, Umeda 7-chome, Adachi-ku, Tokyo, Japan II PETRI CAMERA А.У. Freeport Bldg... 
Schiphol Centrum, Holland II. PETRI INTERNATIONAL CUSA) CORP. 132 Park Ave, South, New York, М.Ү- 10016, 
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North Bridge Road, Singapore M Hong Kong: ROXY ELECTRIC CO., LTD. 1625-1629. Prince's Building, Hong Kong 


who declared that student opinions on 
any isue were about as relevant as 
whether or not they liked strawberries. 
"Though The Strawberry Statement ends 
with an orgy of violence that will send 
shudders down your spine the next time 
you see helmeted policemen, the movie's 
sources of energy are nonviolent. Making 
his feaune-film debut, director Stuart 
Hagmann falls into the common ertor of 
stiving to be cinematic—which too оГ. 
n means that the camera literally runs 

around the actors and a viewer has 
ace himself against the blur. But 
Hagmann also has the confidence to те 
lax now and then. to look at long-haired 
boys with their birds (True Gris Kim 
Darby is the bird to watch) and listen to 
the way kids talk and think and feel 
about one another and the world they're 
about to inherit. 


to | 


Allowing Otto Preminger to employ 
his Panzer tactics against the frail sub- 
stance of Tell Me That You Love Me, Junie 
Moon amounts to something like statu- 
tory rape. Preminger, at his vulgar best 
in such things as Anatomy of a Murder 
and The Cardinal, is all thumbs with 
Marjorie Kellogg's screenplay (based on 
her novel) about three physically handi- 
capped people who leave the cold com 
forts of a hospital and. pursue. happiness 
as a trio in a house of their own. Anyone 
who hasn't read the book will undoubted- 
ly determine to pass it by alter two hours 
of exposure to old Doc Preminger's 
syrupy remedies for the crippled queer 
(played by Robert Moore, who staged 
The Boys in the Bund), the insecure 
epileptic (Broadway's Tony Award win- 
ner Ken Howard) and the former good- 
time gir] (Liza Minnelli) whose face was 
splashed with battery acid. Though osten 
sibly а wry and wistful ode to the world’s 
losers, Junie Moon smacks of pure Hol- 
Iywood whenever Moore and Liza start 
matching wits: and the rest of the dialog 
oozes awkward sentimentality. Preminger 
patronizes his characters shamelessly, and 
the result is a kind of Disneyland freak 


show. 


George Peppard plays The Executioner, 
a spy who differs from most of his col- 
leagues—at least the ones who have been 
showing up on movie screens of late—in 
that he is anything but cynical about the 
job he has to do. Peppard believes in 
patriotism, loyally among friends and 
the essential virtues of anti-communism. 
It just happens that he has also been the 
lover of an errant lady (Joan Collins) 
whose husband, a high-ranking official in 
British Intelligence, appears to be the 
source of a serious leak to Soviet agents 
in Europe. When Pep 
d 


га decides to go 
against order nate the man he 
cuckolded, The Executioner takes a se- 
ries of deft turns into cynicism by ques 
tioning motives and generally laying 


zza di San Pietra Piazza Navona 


|) 


Fond of things Italiano? 
Try asip of Galliano 


The fabulous fountains of Rome. 
Steeped in legend. Living 
monuments to ancient splendor. 
Modern Italians have their own 
legend. They say that Galliano is 
the only liqueur "distilled from 
the rays of the sun.” And truly, 
there is a touch of sunlight in 
every golden sip. Galliano—the 
fine Italian liqueur that has 
conquered America. Let it 

win you over. Perhaps tonight? 


80 PROOF LIQUEUR, IMPORTEO BY McKESSON LIQUOR CO., NEW YORK, N.Y. © MckLICCO, 1968 


27 


PLAYBOY 


28 


waste the idea that espionage serves any 
useful purpose except to provide an out- 
Jet for unenlightened selbinterest. Direc- 
tor Sam Wanamaker manages to sustain 
a lethally serious mood after an opening 
scene ol such extravagant carnage that 
you may find yourself laughing out loud. 
Peppard’s cool blue eyes convey precisely 
the look of smug righteousness that 
night lead an assassin astray, and blonde 
Judy Geeson helps relieve the tension of 
a wuly diabolical plot as а swinging litle 
MI clerk who keeps her bed warm for 
spies coming in from the cold. 


who never 
George and 


Trucblue Beatlemaniacs 
have enough of John, Ра 
Ringo will be pleased to learn that there 
is virtually nothing else in let И Be, а 
kind of visual aid to the Beatles’ album 
of the same title, but pallid in compari- 
son with one or two earlier documenta- 
ries about the foursome (particularly the 
Maysles brothers’ What's Happening! 
The Beatles in the U.S.A). The only 
supporting player of note is John Len- 
non's lady, Yoko Ono, who sis beside 
or near Lennon throughout the rehears- 
al and recording sessions—a silent and 
inscrutable alter ego. With the Beatles 
disbanded as of last report, Let Л Be 
becomes а nostalgic social document for 
historians of the Sixties. It is interesting 
to note that despite its fine. solid sound, 
the group looks tired—all, perhaps, ex- 
cept for Paul McCartney, who emerges 
on film eutles’ blithest spirit— 
ike a quantet of friendly but weary pros 
ve traveled a long, long road 
ce their youth and cbullience first 
ightened the cinematic landscape with 
A Hard Days Night and Help! As 
Beatles movies go. Let /1 Be amounts to 
litile more than the lazy way out of a 
1 obligation. It comes to a 

. though, with a session 
on the rooftop of the Apple company's 
home office in London—a major happen- 
ing that stops traffic, disrupts business for 
blocks around and brings uniformed 
hobbies to the scene. The cops, of course, 
are helpless against this disturbance of 
the peace and might as well lodge a com- 
plaint against earth. tremors. 


While Mick Jagger and the Rolling 
Stones rehearsed for a recording session, 
Godard [ocused a camera on 
nd used the footage lor his new 
political tract, Sympathy for the Devil (orig- 
nally titled Z + 7. which identifies Go- 
d's own version of the film—alered 
over his strenuous objections by the pro- 
ducers, who end Sympathy with a com- 
plete and rather redundant performance 
by the Stones of the title song). Godard's 
idea, reduced 10 essentials, is apparer 
that out of seeming chaos. the m 
re putting it all together—and so are 
black militants. so are student radicals, 
so is he. A challenging concept. but 
Godard blows it again, flourishing his 


credentials as a revolutionary at the ex- 
pense of his farsuperior skills as a 
moviemaker. What he has actually put 
on film is schizophrenic and frequency 
anesthetic, an OK musical documentary 
ї strain onto some tan- 
dom sequences about a girl named Eve 
Democracy who paints slogans on fences 
and about a band of black Ché Guevaras 
who rape and murder white girls in an 
auto graveyard (where technological so- 
Gieties go to die, if we read Godard's sim- 
plistic symbols correctly). The saving 
grace of Sympathy for the Devil is thar 
Godard'y “maddening pretensions can 
never quite subdue his talent, and the 
movie soars to a beautifully projected 
climax that romantics of every persua- 
sion should find invesistible—when a 
giant camera crane on the beach, 
black and red flags whipped by the wind, 
swoops the body of his martyred heroine 
skyward and instantancously transforms 
s into poetry. 

Remember the Statue of Liberty bur- 
ied in the sand during the closing scenes 
of Planet of the Apes? Well, Beneath the 
Planet of the Apes begins where 1968's 
box-office bonanza lett off, only to meet 
the fate of movie sequel. 
Here a tlon Heston 
running around in his loindoth, fol- 
lowed by James Franciscus and earthgitl 
Linda Harrison. Maurice Evans and Kim 
Hunter are also back in apeskins, as two 
of the more liberal simians in charge of 
maimaining peace on the planet. This 
time ош, the apes are divided among 
themselves about. whether to invade the 
fearful Forbidden Zone, where some erst- 
while humans—a wretched species—live 
in subterranean caverns mindlessly wor- 
shiping a nuclear bomb. They're а god- 
awlul ugly bunch of mutants, and they 
waste а lot of time and money spelling 
out a message for the world of today. 
You'll get the idea when Franciscus, as 
а former astronaut, dambers into the 
Durned-out, dank site of a subway sta- 
tion marked Queensboro Plaza, then 
staggers onto the rusted tracks to pick 
up an artifact—a tattered poster declar- 
ing, NEW YORK IS A SUMMER FESTIVAL, 

Though the title is а misnomer, Sexual 
Freedom in Denmark more than adequately 
covers every bedside hint and anato: 
i left ош of pre- 
es. This profusely 
illustrated docu a primer for 
very advanced. classes in sex education, 
shows everything that the eye of a roving 


vious se: 


camera cam possibly get down to see— 


from erection to oral. genital contact, pen- 
erration. ejaculation, orgasm and birth. 
The basic positions that aren't shown in 
a montage of stills taken. from Ind 
temple art and Oriental erotica аге 
photographically set forth in sequences 
of sexual choreography for two, with 


handsome couples who appear unmind. 
ful of genital closeups. Produced and 
directed by M. C. Von Hellen, the film 
attempts to view sexual freedom in his- 
torical perspective, using modern Den- 
mark—where the age of consent is 15 for 
girls who feel ready—as proof of the 
thesis that liberation from old taboos 
can create a healthy moral climate. In- 
taviews with psychologists and enthusi- 
asts segue ns from Nietzsche 
("Chrisianity has given a draught of 
poison to Eros”), and there are moments 
of outright dullness for those who don’t 
really need another chalk-talk showing 
how one tiny spermatozoan finds its wit 
to the female egg. Though doubt about 
the seriousness of Sexual Freedom's in- 
tentions arises when a narrator quotes 
the U.S. Constitution on freedom of the 
press while a camera stationed at crotch 
level watches a girl slithering out of a 
transparent G string. the lovemaking 
scenes finally lend beauty and dignity to 
the movie and press the case against 
censorship to new frontiers. 

The suspicion that Teo Lote the Hero 
was actually made a couple of decades 
ago is fortified by the presence of Henry 
Fonda, looking young as ever in his 
“spec stint as а World War 
t behind 


to go ош and die. We're back in the 
South Pacific, mates, somewhere on a 
Philippine island that has become infest- 
ed with Auother impossible mission 
must be performed, and the only indica- 
tion that anything new has been added 
to war movies since 1950 is the presence 
of Cliff Robertson and Michael Caine, as 
a testy Anglo-American team whose aiti- 
tude toward the job at hand сап be 
summed up in a single line of dialog. 
“Getting ourselves killed isn't going to 


make any difference to anybody except 
us" Having once established that Too 
Late the Hero docs not endorse the 


glories of war, producer-director-co-author 
Robert (The Dirty Dozen) Aldrich pro- 
ceeds to splatter blood ‘n’ guts all over 
the jungle. War may be hell, but boys 
will be boys. 


Yippie leader Abbie Hoffman bathes 
in a tubful of money, playwright Sam 
Shepard (see pages 19 aud 34) appears 
nude, growling A. in a public 
service commercial, а tographe 
Jobn Harnish doubles as a b ked 
g his girl atop the trunk o 
moving convertible. That's Win Cham- 
berlain's Brand X, which would have been 
classified as an underground movie a few 
short years ago. Now, however, anything 
goes, and Chamberlain tries to pack most 
of it into а nose-thumbing pictorial ess 
that he calls “propaganda for the pol 
of јоу and disorder.” We suspect that 
Chamberlain prefers disorder. He cer- 
tainly coins phrases better than he makes 


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PLAYBOY 


30 


movies. yet Brand X has some validity as 
the subculture’s answer to a consumer 
society dominated by TV. Looser than 
Laugh-In, the movie is chiefly a collage 
of commercials held together by your 
host, underground-movie favorite Taylor 
Mead, who begins with a morning ex- 
ise show and ends with a Sermonetie. 
The space between is filled by the afore- 
mentioned notables. as well as by actress 
Sally Kirkland (the nude Duse). Ultra 
Violet, Candy Darling and Joy Bang. 
who plug the simple pleasures of dirt, 
sweat and fomication (“keeps you 
youngerlooking". No screenwriter 16- 
ceives credit. since the performers fre 
quently concocted their dialog on the 
spot. apparenily with childlike faith that 
апу sort of putdown adds up to first- 
ate satire. 


Home from abroad to languish at her 
milys country manse in the north of 
ngland, a restless schoolgir] finds herself 
ponding with unexpected fervor to 
the hoteyed husband of a gypsy fortune- 
Whether the heroine is a creature 
wally passionate instincts or the 
product of bad blood—on her mother's 
side—colors the argument of The Virgin 
and the Gypsy, based on a work by D. Н 
Lawrence. With Women in Love as the 
pacesetter, English film makers are evi- 
dently finding new relevance in La 
тепсе: and The Virgin а junior miss 
tion on the Lady Chatterley theme— 
upholds the tradition without add 
it anything of major importance. Sc 
and director Christopher 
те skillful collaborators who ren- 
der down 10 the last derail the stilling 
boredom of country life during the post- 
Victorian 1920s—with occasional relief 
provided by Honor Blackman’s perform- 
butierlly who 
alights with her lover just long enough 
to scandalize the townsfolk. The virgin is 
played by doceyed Joanna Shimkus, op- 
Nero, who 


ха 


thrust that is the number-one require- 
ment of Lawrencian hei 

The Out-of-Towners strciches one thin 
joke into a lively, if overdone, comedy 
about the perils of life in modem N 
York. It goes without saying that this 
first original screenplay by Broadway’ 


pes. 


арз at the expense of 
yas an urban jungle beset by 
мітла jams, garbage strikes, crowded. 
hotels, muggers, demonstrators, con men, 
crackpots and cops. Jack Lemmon and 
Sandy Dennis suive with enormous zeal 
ze what Simon bout the 
amival in Manhattan of a naive young 
touple from Dayton, Ohio. Everything 
happens to the would-be immigrant 
Their plane is late, their room rescrva- 


tions аге canceled, 
by the time they st 


ge is lost; 
agele out of Central 
Park at dawn to seek solace in a church 
(closed for rehearsals of a pending tele- 
st). they resemble the survivors of a 
Vietnam fire fight. That, in а nutshell, is 
the movie. Lemmon is, as usual, the 
prototypal American jerk, fully equipped 
E КЫШ cate ideo an dios 
Sandy sports а Midwestern accent that 
might well make her persona non grata 
y two-horse town between Du- 
nd Toledo, but she 


decided flair for knockabout 


Few of the presently fashionable аё 
diós about youth arc overlooked by Iresh- 
man director Leonard Horn in The Magic 


Garden of Stanley Sweetheart, adapted for 
Robert E 


the screen by 23-year-old 
Westbrook from his se 
novel, which dealt м 
drops out of a vast compute 
sity not unlike Columbia. 
whimsically named hero lives his secret 
life right out in the open—jerking off in 
the bathtub while he reads a plaintive 
letter from his mom, luring a plumpish 
coed (hilariously played by Holly Near) 
to star in an underground flick titled 
Masturbation or gradually losing himself 
in the drug scene, until he emerges at 
last, presumably a bit wiser, though it 
would be dillicult to say why or how. 
What's best in the film are a number of 
funny scenes that appear to be lifted 
whole from the book—a moviemaking 
bit, for example, or some of the sexual 
become real when Stanley 
(Don Johnson) loses the once-virginal 
coed (Dianne Hull) he seduced and 
forms a sexual trio with two fetching 
hopheads (Linda Gillin and Victoria 
Racimo). Filmed partly on location. in 
the environs of Columbia, Stanley Sweet- 
heart already looks somewhat dated, if 
one measures its emphasis on free love 
and drugs against the more urgent issues 
behind today’s campus unrest. Also, a 
in Hollywood slickness pr 
if the movie were made less for young 
audiences than for middle-class voyeurs 
who are panting to see just how far these 
damned kids will go. 

Pseudo-soul music clutters the sound 
tack of Leo the Last, while Marcello 
astroianni struggles gamely against the 
English language to maintain his identi- 
this misbegouen comedy about race 
ions in a London slum. 
blueblood—the 
aristocratic linc 
greater part of 
spyglass at his 


Westbrook's 


ails, as 


cer 


As an invet- 


vering 
—Marcello spends the 
the movie pointing 
black neighbors, who fight, love, steal, 
get busted and raped and, finally, move 
the émigré prince to lead a tiny local 
revolution, Marcello does the noble 
thing, of course, when he discovers that 
he is—you guessed it—a slumlord whose 


inherit, 


nee 


Indes virtually every home 
on the street. As co-author and director 
of the scenario, John Boorman bears 
heavy responsibility for Leo's unwieldy 
combination of slapstick and social 
significance, filmed in an affected style 
1 reflections in glass, 
Boorman can also daim the perverse 
distinction of having coaxed a very drab 
the masterful Mas- 


All the busy flashbacks and fantasy 
sequences used by director Hal Ashby 
in The Landlord cannot spoil a comedy. 
drama that's as beautiful as it is black. 
Though the story, adapted by William 


Gunn from a novel by Kristin Hunter, is 
a shambles of subplots, the characters 
ring true in terms of social comedy. 


Better yet, the actors 
of which the groov 


те а groovy Crew, 
est include Pearl Bai- 


ley, Louis 
Sands as resident blacks in a tenement in 
Brookly Slope ghetto. 1 


Bridges, oozing the litle-boy 
that appears wo be his stock in t 
plays the landlord of the title, 
nonentity who belatedly leaves home (at 
the age of 29) 10 invest in urban hous. 
ing. By the time he sees the futility of 
his eflorts to soak up the black experi- 
ence secondhand, The Landlord has 
evolved into a sad, searching comedy 
about a honkie so responsive to color 
that he finds his way to the bed of a 
mulatto go-go dancer (played with re 
freshing forthrighuess by Макі Bey) 
and impregnates the seductive wife 
(Diana) of a black militant. Any sum 
mary of the action does an injustice to 
the movie's rich ethnic humor and can- 
did dialog. Some of the choicest bits fall 
to Lee Grant, giving a brilliant comic 
performance as the hero's momma, who 
seis out to save her boy with lines like, 
"Didn't we all go together to sce Guess 
Who's Coming to Dinner?” 


man 


а rich 


Authoractor Osie Davis, who wi 
Purlie Victorious, m ectori 
debut on film with Cotton Comes to Hor- 
lem, a really black comedy that resem- 
bles nothing but itself. The director is 
black, the best of the actors are black, 
the location filming was done in the 
blackest, brightest spots of Harlem—in- 
cluding 125th Streets famed Apollo the 
the idea bounced into being 
pages of a novel by black 
Chester Himes, Godfrey С 
in his guise as Gr 


otc 


es his d 


ter—end 
the 


from 


humo m- 
bride 
Jones, a Harlem detective, joins with his 
side-kick, Coffin Ed Johnson (Raymond 
St. Jacques). to expose а back-to-Arica 
movement headed by a bogus black mes- 
siah (Calvin Lockhart). But Cotton is 
basically а comedy of crime and suspense 
in which good guys, bad guys, tough 
broads and innocent 


bystanders show. 


their colors without reference to race. 
The obligatory putting down of Whitey, 


however, has seldom been achieved so ^ 
spititedly as in a scene between a black DU can U 
doxy (Judy Pace) and а dumb white сор 


(Dick Sabol) who 


assigned to guard 
her and ends up in a public corridor— 
ssed and brandishing a pistol, with 


bare. 
a paper bag over his head. Even the 


que cns at oid ibo и КУЛДУ, for love 


funny, poetic lilt to them d 
ferent from white farce as authentic soul 


music is different from swing. Though by 
no means a musical—despite а e of 
vital background songs by composer Galt . 


MacDermot of Hair—the actors play Cot- 
ton as if they could just as easily sing 
and dance it. The plot conveys a message 
of sorts, but don't let that worry you. 
Any hint of social significance is left in 
the dust of a chase through Н. 

recover a bale of couon containing 
$87,000. Most of it works so welll that we 
foresee a sequel—if not a series—of 
copsand-robbers misadventures featuring 
Grave Digger and Coffin Ed as two lov- 
able | 


RECORDINGS 


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Stephen Stills's haunting ¥ + 20; their 
interpretation of Joni Mitchell’s Wood- 
stock is enough t. convince almost any- 
one that Woodstock Nation does exist. 
Lena & Gabor (Skye; also available on. 
sterco tape) has got to be one of the 
most refreshing LPs to surface in a long 
time. Singer Horne and guitarist Szabo, 
working on charts provided by G 
Farland, put an additional sheen с 
contemporary odes as Somethin, 
body's Talkin’, Yesterday When I Was 
Young and The Fool on the Hill A 
ise dividend is Richard Tee, who 
n best be described as roller- 
rink style organ and makes you like it 
(dig what he does on Talkin’). The 
ageless Miss Home has never sounded 


bound to please 


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PLAYBOY 


32 


home. Reed men Joseph Jarman and 
Roscoe Mitchell, bassist Malachi Favors 
and trumpeter Lester Bowie—who retain 
membership in Chicago's Association for 
the Advancement of Creative Musicians 
—fill both discs (readily available by 
mail from the companies) with fasci- 
nating aural textures; the nonmelodic 
sounds may take some getting used to, 
but the effort is well worth it. 

We met Johnny (“Big Moose”) Walk- 
er three years ago, when he was playing 
iano and singing the blues all night, 
in a basement club on Chi- 
cago's Wells Street. In response to our 

sking if he had cur any records, he said 
he had never found anyone to record 
him right and he'd "rather die broke." 
Well now he’s got a record—Rambling 
Woman (BluesWay)—ánd it done 
right. Walkers bigbeat music, which 
stands at the spot where the blues and. 
rock ^п” roll meet. benefits from the gui- 
of the late Earl Hooker and the 
ay-out electronic sax of Otis Hale; the 
session, which includes a pair of long 
instrumentals, has a spontaneous quality 
that’s all too rare today. 

An absorbingly eclectic piece of work 
is Tapestry (Columbia; also available on 
stereo tape), put down on vinyl by the 
New York Electric String Ensemble, some 
gentlemen who have no qualms about 
moving through three centuries of music. 
Harpsichord, guitars, basses, pi 
drums the instruments. 
ensemble is occasionally implemented by 
a brass choir), and Bach and Purcell, 
among others, have rarely had it so good. 
Not being able to find something that 
appeals to you on this LP is to admit to 
a tin ear. In somewhat the same vein is 
the Winter Consort's Something in the 
Wind (АКМ; also (ble on serco 
tape). Sax man-leader Paul Winter's sex 
tet, augmented by additional pieces when 
the situation warrants, handles Bach, 
Ravel, Ives, Fred Neil and Jerry Jeff 
Walker with equal facility and aplomb. 
The Consort's sound never gets as tough 
as that of the N. Y. E. S. E.. but it more 
than makes up for that in the richness of 
the musical fabric woven throughout. 


по and 


ava 


Hector Berlioz didn't compose | 
Grande. Мене des Mons to demonstrate 
the potentialities of four-channel sound, 


but he might just as well have, to judge 
from the new “Surround Stereo” record- 
ing of the work (Vanguard; tape only) 
made in Salt Lake City's Mormon Taber- 
nacle under the direction of Maurice 
Abravanel. A remarkable sense of spa- 
ciousness pervades the entire perform- 
ce. The salient test, however, comes in 
the celebrated “Tuba Mirum," where 
four brass bands mingle their stentorian 
sounds in a mighty spatial melee. The 


effect from four separately channeled 
speakers is staggering. The recording is 
also available on regular two-channel 
stereo tape and discs. Though not quite 
so spectacular in this guise, it still does 
ample justice to the fervor and finesse of 
Abravanel's conducting. 


John Phillips (Dunhill; also available on 
stereo tape) finds the former leader of 


The Mamas and the it 
alone. Well, not quite; he has the sup- 
port fine West Coast studio 
musici ту K nech- 


tel—who bring out the best 
sometimes obscure but always 
compositions. The overall sound is a 
surprisingly smooth blend of such dispa- 
rate elements as country steel guitar and 
background singing by а Raclettstype 
group; Phillips’ delivery is a bit shy but 
pleasant. 


Stax's spoken-word label, Respect, has 
its first release in the Reverend Jesse 
Jackson's 1 Am Somebody (also available 
on stereo tape). After the Operation 
Breadbasket chant that serves as the title 
of the LP, Jackson delivers a rambling 
sermon, Know Your Enemy (who isn't 
necessarily white), followed by two short- 
er raps, The Great Divide (on dissension 
within the black community) and Quar- 
ter on the Dime (which explores the 
ramifications of the fact that Ch 
blacks, 25 percent of the city’s popula- 
live on 10 percent of its land). 

very retains much of its 
excitement on record and his brand of 
black humor cuts like a scythe. 

"The 5th Dimension, after devoting the 
first side of Portrait (Bell; also available. 
on stereo tape) to some uninspired ro- 
iic ballads and rhythm tunes, really 
gets it together on side two: Laura 
Nyro's Save the Country leads to an 
carbending medley of The Declaration 
(of Independence), Sam Cooke's A 
Change Is Gonna Come and the Rascals’ 
People Gotta Be Free; Bob Alcivar's Di- 
mension Five, a wordless, jaz-oriented 
opus, closes the proceedings with style. 
An extra virtue of the LP is the cover 
art by longtime PLAYBOY contributor 
LeRoy Neiman. Апо group 
of unusual versatility is showcased in 
Stairsteps (Buddah; also available on stereo 
tape): a family in real life, the ‘Steps 
show true togetherness as they limn a 
pair of Lennon-McCartney items, Get- 
ting Beller and Dear Prudence, plus a 
number of engaging originals. 


E 


For years now, estimable reed man 
Tony Scou has popped up in exotic 
comers of the globe 
bassador of jazz; and his sojou 
had a marked effect upon his mus 
Tony Scott (Verve; also available on ste 


s an ex-officio ага. 


tape), he heads up several groups that 
vary in size and personnel as he offers— 
in addition to such standard fare as My 
Funny Valentine, Brother, Сап You 
Spare a Dime? and Sophisticated Lady— 
a trio of Eastem-influenced efforts, Ode 
to an Oud, Suara Sulina and Homage 
to Lord Krishna. Tony is heard on clari 
net, baritone sax and flute, and it’s all 
great Scott. 


When Jimi Hendrix left Capitol Rec- 
ords, he had to promise them one fu- 
ture LP. Band of Gypsys (alo available 
on stereo tape) is that record, and it’s 2 
gas. Etched live last New Year's Eve 
Bill Graham's Fillmore East, it features 
the short-lived threesome that gives the 
i is not on 
head cooking, 


freakiness but on straight- 
and with drummer Buddy Miles and 


bassist Billy Cox laying down a solid 
groove all the way, Неп@ X docs pre- 


NT EES IETS 
also available on stereo tape); the tunes 
swing more than usu gements 
are subtle and sparse and Atkins is per- 
fection itself as he applies his blend of 
jazz, classical and country music to such 
old stand-bys as Cherokee, Inka Dinka 
Doo and Tennessee Pride. Lightweight 
stuff, but a must for g 

McLemore Avenue (Stix 
on stereo tape) is the thoroughfare i 
Memphis on which Stax Records is locat- 
ed; it’s also Booker T. and the MG 
swer to the Beatles. АЙ the material 
from Abbey Road is here, arranged 
three well-knit medleys, with a separate 
version of Something. For the MG's, it's 
a sipnificant departure from their custom- 
ary threeminute formula; Booker T. 
(who, at 24, hasn't hit his musical peak 
yet) feels it's the best thing he's done, 
nd we're inclined to agree. 
Mayor Richard Hatcher of Gary, Indi- 
ana, discovered them; he notified the 
then-lead singer of the Supremes, who 
told Berry Gordy; and now the Jackson 
5—а quintet of brothers, aged 10 to 16, 
who can sing the hell out of any tune— 
are headed for the top. Diana Ross Pre- 
sents the Jackson 5 (Motown; also available 
on stereo tape) is their debut LP and, 
despite the overambitious charts, the 
group hits the jackpot with My Cherie 
Amour, Standing in the Shadows о] Love 
and ten other driving essays in soul. 


l, the arr: 


Producer, bass man, singer, composer 
of tunes such as Back Door Man, The 
Seventh Son, Spoonful and The Little 
Red Rooster—among many others—Wil- 
lie Dixon finally gets to do his own thing 
on 1 Am the Blues (Columbia; also ava 
able on sterco tape), and it's really finc. 


Willie's unidentified backup musicians 
lay down a definitive groove throughout 

and his vocals reveal mucho corazón. 
With each recording, the masterful 
Miles Davis discovers new ways his won- 
ders to perform. Biches Brew (Columbia: 
n. 


also available on stereo tape) is a tw 
LP package of near perfection. Miles is 
into all sons of things—electronics, mys- 
ticism, avantgarde harmonics. exotic in- 
strumentation and rhythms; you name it 
And the Davis horn has never been more 
о the 


overpowering. For his forays 
unknown, Miles has gathered about him 
three electric. pianists, а nio of drum- 
mers, plus a percussionist, а bassist and 
a Fender bassist, а soprano sax man and 
а bass clarinetist, and а superb electric 
guitarist, John McLaughlin, for whom 
опе of the tracks is named. Bitches Brew 
gives every indication of becoming a jazz 
Jandmark. 


THEATER 


Inquest deals with a subject of utmost 
political and moral concern, the convic 
tien and execution of Julius and Ethel 
Rosenberg as atomic spies. Were the Ro- 
senbergs innocent? Or. if guilty, how 


guilty? Were they villainy or dupes? To 
what degree were they victims of the 
McCarthy era? What sort of people were 
they? None of these questions i: 
swered sarisactorily in Donald Freed’s 
play. It isn't so much theater of fact as it 
Jouded position paper. Freed is so con 
vinced that the Rosenbergs were victims 
that he forgot to write a play about it. 
As acted. by George Grizzard and Anne 
Jackson, the pair were not only innocent 
but absolute innocents (a less humorous 
version of Sam Levene and Molly Picon) 
Freed divides everything into documenta- 
tion from the record and "reconstruc- 
tions" from reality, The documentation 
contains some fascinating material, much 
of it blunted by the acting and by Alan 
Schneider's misconceived direction. ‘The 
reconstructions deal mostly with the 
couple's grossl мана home 
life. Freed has taken an urgent inquest 
and trivialized it. At The Music Box, 239 
West 45th Street. 

With all of its faults, however, Inquest 
is the latest example of the developing 
love affair between the New York theater 
and the regional theater circuit. It 
clicited а patriarchal nod of app: 
from the granddaddy of the gr 
theater movement, the Cleveland. Play- 
house, where Inquest was first staged last 
year under the title The United States vs. 
Julius and Ethel Rosenberg, The Cleve 
land Playhouse Gompany, oldest among 
some 55 professional resident companies 
in the United Stues, has unveiled. 62 
new works in its 54-ycar history. Some 
were written by young playwrights of 
whom you have heard: Elmer Rice, 


sentim 


Iso 
al 


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2 


33 


PLAYBOY 


34 


Maxwell Anderson, Tennessee Williams. 
Others were by young writers who grew 
old in deserved obscurity. In either case, 

w York producers rarely took seriously 
what was happening west of the Hudson. 
Until recently, they regarded regional 
theaters. not without a measure of ju 
fication, as worthy but dull country 
cousins bogged down in warmedover 
Broadway hits and obligatory classics. For 
their t, the resident theaters viewed. 
Broadway as a cavern of commerci 

Both attitudes are changing. New York 
producers, plagued by a dearth of strong 
new plays, can no longer scorn the boon- 
docks. While the movement of new 
works from the provinces to New York is 
ardly a stampede, it has gained momen- 
tum with the successful transition of 
Howard Sacklers The Great White 
Hope, originally produced at the Arena 
Stage in Washington, and of Heinar 
Kipphardt's In the Matter of J. Robert 
Oppenheimer, which had its American 
premiere at the Mark Taper Forum in 
Los Angeles. Other Broadway imports 
have been less successful. Red, White 
and Maddox, a musical by Don Tucker 
and Jay Broad that wowed ‘em at Thea- 
ter Alanta, 
а success at Philadelphi 
Living Arts failed to ¢ 
audiences. 

Yet 
their scramble 
deficits, 


nd Rochelle Owens’ Beclch, 


"s Theater of the 
te New York 


ident theaters continue 
new plays. Beset by 


ter is innova- 
ve. The regional companies also have а 
sense of identification with playwrights 
ч yet made it, and а few have 
ed playwrights in residence, Some 
onths ago, the Cleveland Play House 
(i's actually three theaters in two build- 
ings, all under the direction of Rex 
Partington) engaged 43-yearold New 
Yorker Norman Wexler and has already 
staged th of his works. When its new 
scason opens next month, the Play 
House will lead off with a mixture of the 
old and the new: Bertolt Brecht’s The 
Threcpenny Opera, Samuel Beckett's 
Endgame, and another work—still unti- 
Ued—by its resident playwright. Wheth- 
er or not Wexlers latest makes it to 
New York, it is part of a trend that 
seems to be wedding Broadway—for bet- 
ter or worse—to theaters throughout the 
country, 


Most Broadway musicals are теце 
Compeny is a mew musical—in form, 
subject matter and style. It's bookless, 
almos plotless, but loaded with imagina- 
ion, intelligence and entertainment. 
‘The theme is marr riage, 
commitment and lack of commitment, 
particularly the urba 
The central character i 
the best fiend, hanger lyst, ob- 
server. What Company says about com- 
mitment is double-edged, summed up by 


the th 


the title of one of Stephen Sondheim's 
most inspired songs, — Sorry-Grateful, 
Company's couples are all in this togeth- 
ng degrees of awareness 
iolent confrontation (karate keeps 
one marriage together) to sheer супі- 
cism. The chief cynic is played by Elaine 
Stritch, who in the song The Ladies Who 
Lunch mockingly condemns the soulless 
ness of superficial city ladies. Some 
scenes are sung—the songs ranging from 
rock to complicated counterpoint; some 
are songless. Action stops abruptly for a 
song commenting on the action, then 
resumes, But everything interlocks. The 
set by Boris Aronson is a multilevel 
tubularsteel assembly that evokes thc 
slick, urban machine that is the milieu 
of the show. Credit goes to the ensemble 
of actors, to Sondheim, to author George 
Furth and. especially, to producer-director 
Harold Prince, who conceived and su. 
perbly executed. Company, a sleek, pro- 
ssional, Unconventional musical. At the 
0 West 52nd Street. 


Theatergocrs ated to two 
demonstrations of the star's art this sea- 
son. Each is а vehicle and cach is in 
exactly the right hands, Colette, a 
graphical play about the famed French 
authoress, is а compilation of memories 
and reflections, the sort of play you 
might assume would be bener read than 
tcd—until you see it acted, As Zoe 
Caldwell ages from teenager to octoge- 
narian, from country girl to literary lion- 
css, she creates а full-bodied Colettc— 
with all her humor, self-confidence and 
sensuality. In keeping with the character, 
hers is a huge performance. The support- 
ng cast, led by Mildred Dunnock as 
Colette's mother, is excellent, with most 
of the actors. playing а variety of roles. 
Harvey Schmidt—sitting at a piano on- 
stage throughout the performance and 
storing every minute of it—plays ac- 
ten by hi 1 by 
footnote: Miss Cald- 


e being tr 


Tom Jones. One 
well, in what is probably a first for a star 


in the American theater, is called upon 
to expose her left breast. She does it with 
enormous presence and panache. It is, as 
intended, the comic high point of an 
extraordinary theatrical evening. At the 
rt, 240 East Third Street. 


^ in bringing the 1937 


Leibm: 


Ron 
a Murray-Allen Boretz comedy Room 


back to Broadway, gives a per- 
formance even bigger than Miss Cald- 
еШ. In one of its several incarnations, 
this farce served as a Marx brothers 
and Leibman, a former impro- 
viser of the Premise, comes on like 
Groucho, Chico and Harpo combined. 
Wisecracking, mimicking, miming, leap- 
ing, pratfalling, mugging, Leibman i 
riotously, raucously funny as the quintes- 
sential Broadway sharpie, the producer 
with no money but plenty of gall, the 


mov 


operator who would do anything to sign 
a contract, even—as he does, hilariously 
—draw his own bload in order to fill an 
inkless pen. The stage is full of competent 
clowns, but they are all overshadowed 
and outplayed by the lunatic Leibma 
At the Edison, 240 West 47th Strect. 


There were moments during The Rep- 
спогу Theater of Lincoln Center's pop- 
art production of Sam Shepard's Operation 
Sidewinder when it seemed that, at last, 
the inmates were running the asylum. 
Shepard (sce page 19) is probably the 
most prolific, most talented and least 


commercial of America’s younger play 
wrights, and his Sidewinder is a free 
wheeling swipe at everything from а 


missile-minded society to empty-headed 
white liberals, For all its sprawl, Side 
winder is great fun. The automobiles on- 
а fantastic hissing computer th 
looks like a snake (Sidewinder itself). 
rapes a girl and communicates with out- 
er space; the low-down rock music 
slashed out by the Holy Modal Rounders 
all went to make it one of Lincoln 
Center's most exciting offerings. Bur, sad- 
ly, Sidewinder was not what Lincoln rep 
was about this year. It was the only new 
a season of revivals, which began 
with William Saroyan's The Time of Your 
life, a gentle comedy that seemed to 
withstand not only time but also a me- 
diocre production. The barroom set was 
finely detailed, but the staging and much 
of the acting seemed haphaza 
second revi Tennessee Wi 
Comino Reel, in ап ornate production— 
with staircases to the heavens, Kilroy 
swinging in over the audience on a Tar- 
zanlike skvhook and a cast seemingly of 
thousands. It's a very literary, highly 
metaphorical play, populated by such 
historical figures as Lord Byron and Са 
nova. The cast, particularly the leads, were 
good. but the pl. st in this produc- 
tion, didn't seem the neglected master- 
piece its partisans consider it to be. 
Sidewinder came third. The fourth and 
final production was an exhumation of 
George S. Kaufman and Marc Connelly's 
1924 Beggar on Horseback. This picce of 
pseudo-ex pressionist dapuap was one of 
the dullest, dreariest, most pointless pro 
cessions ever to crawl across the Lincoln 
Center stag it is about a 
composer—well played by Leonard (Har- 
old, from The Boys in the Band) Erey— 
who dr 
That dream, literally depicted 
lessly attenuated, could put anyone to 
sleep. In а season of elaborate produc- 
ns, Beggar beggars desc 
something like a cross between Modern 
Times and The Nutcracker Suite. At 
least the set shop was busy this year at 
the Vivian Beaumont, 150 West 65th 


Street. 
E 


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Od a number of occasions 1 h 
called a particular girl for a date. E: 
time, she pauses for a brief convers: 
with her mother, then gives me a reason 
for not being able to go. No hits out of 
five times at bat а poor average and I'm 
really getting bugged with her mother's 
meddling. What can I do about it2— 
Madison, Wiscom 
othing, since it’s apparent the girl is 
king her mother not what to tell you 
but how to tell you. If you'd pick a 
different team lo play, you might im- 
prove your score. 


ММ... is the origin and literal meaning 
of the word honeymoon?—D. R., Mem- 
phis, Tennessee. 

The moon in honeymoon refers to the 
first month of marriage, The honey has 
two possible meanings. In ancient tines, 
it was the custom for a newly married 
couple to sip honey on cach of the first 
30 days of their marriage. Same insist 
that the honey derives from the fact that 
the first month of marriage. is naturally 
sweet. Cynics have pointed out that this 
seldom lasts, that every new moon wanes 
and eventually the honey turns 10 gall. 
Or, as English poet Thomas Hood put й: 


Of all the lunar things that change 

The one that shows most fickle and. 
strange 

And takes the most eccentric range 

Is the moon—so called -of honey. 


С: you iell me the primary differ- 
ences between beer and ale?—T. Y., Ju- 
ncau, Alaska. 

Ale tends to be heavier, darker and 
more bitter than beer; this is the result 
of difjering amounts of ingredients and 
the fermentation processes used. The 
word “tends” is important here; for ex- 
ample, bock beer is darker and heavier 
than pale ale, though the latter may be 
higher in alcoholic content. 


fn your answer to Miss P. K. of San 
Francisco (Playboy Advisor, March), who 
h 


inquired about ways of enlargi 
bust. you told her not to 
injections, since they were still in the 
experimental stage and had not yet been 
approved by the Food and Drug Admin- 
istiation. 1 don't doubt the accu 
your answer, but isnt there a 
Marge the bust other than by direct 
ajections of siliconc?—R. F., Chicago, 
Ilinois. 

Yes. A number of women have success- 
fully had their busts enlarged via an 
operation called an augmentation mam- 
maplasty. This consists of making a small 
incision direcily under each breast and 


inserting a thin-walled envelope filled 
with medical-grade silicone gel behind 
the breast tissue. This mammary pros- 
thesis has a special backing into which 
scar tissue grows lo hold it in place. The 
operation, approved by both the FDA 
and the American. Society of Plastic and 
Reconstructive Surgeons, is relatively 
painless. There is no interference with 
pregnancy or nursing and the breasts 
retain their original sofiness. Liquid sili- 
cone, when injected directly, is consid- 
ered a drug and has not been approved 
by ihe FDA except for. experimental 
purposes. 


AA friend recently told me that if I buy 
Japanese sterco equipment. overseas, it 
may differ electronically from the same 
model by the same manufacturer offered 
for sale in the U. 
out on the good buys available in the 
etmam Post Exchange. but neither do 
T wish to buy a set that can't be serviced. 
at home. Would you give me some ad- 
vic?—F. C., APO San Francisco, Cali- 
fornia. 

Since transmissiontine standards vary 
throughout the world, check with the 
salesman to make sure the set you buy 
ill operate on the U. S, standard of 117 
volts, 60 cycles. Television sels are move. 
complicated; in addition to varying. 
transmission-line standards, the number 
of scanning lines per inch may differ, 
there may be differences in vertical [re 
quency and AM sound may be used 
instead of FM. Equipment sold in Post 
Exchanges, of course, is usually designed 
to operate Stateside. Some overseas тапи. 
facturers offer an international warranty 
that will be honored in the States despite 
the fact that their equipment was pur- 
chased elsewhere, 


I don't want to miss 


For several months now, Гус been 
going with a 24-ye: whom I love 
nd hope to marry, However, she has 
repeatedly refused to let me pet her or 
intercourse with her. She says she 
has never had an orgasm in her life and 
that if she did have one with my help, 
she would become dependent upon me 
or would have to masturbate. Bur sl 
thinks the latter is repulsive. How do 1 
handle this perfectly charming girl and 
her utterly ding- 
Dallas, Texas. 
Your long-suffering attitude will help 
neither of you; and between her sexual 
hang-ups and your passivity, your mar- 
riage, if it takes place, will probably be a 
dismal affair. If her notions abont mas- 
turbation being repulsive and orgasms 
causing dependence are, as we suspect, a 
cover-up [or а fear of becoming intimate. 
with you, then face the problem directly 


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daughter says 
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reminds her 

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Å y 


PLAYBOY 


38 


and try to talk it out. If you can't do that, 
stop bowing to her wishes and bow out. 


n doing research for an English course, 
Dear 


I remembered your comment 
Playboy (February) that pLaypoy is ava 
able on microfilm. The local librarian 
said she would be glad to order it if she 
knew where to send for it. Would you 
let me have this informationz—C. J., St. 
Louis, Missour 

LAYHOY on microfilm may be ordered 
from University Microfilm, 300 North 
Zecb Road, Ann Arbor, Michigan 48106. 
All issues from December 1955 through 
December 1968 are available їп both 
black and white and (at slight additional 
cost) full color, 


For the past two years, my father 
spent every weekend with a divorcee. She 
has two daughters by her fi 
which broke up three years ago, 
a one-year-old son of whom my 
is suspiciously fond. My mother 
never said a word about this to anyone, 
though I'm sure she knows. This whole 
sy thing, which took me from my 16th 
to my 8th birthday to uncover, will even- 
ly kill my mother. What can I say to 
1 that will make him stay hor 
Pitusburgh, Pennsylvar 

Nothing. because the problem may be 
of more concern to you than to your 
mother. You have ‘discussed it with 
neither of them and, thus, you cannot be 
aware of any agreements they may have 
made, 1] your parents consider their lives 
fulfilling enough to stay together despite 
your father's apparent liaison, you should 
think twice before offering counsel. It 
took you two years to find out about it 
—and the details you offer suggest some 
digging on your part—indicating your 
father hay been discreet, undoubtedly in 
an effort to spare you and others in your 
family any pain. Even though the situa- 
lion may distress you, your parents have 
as much right to their lives without inter- 
Jerence as you have to yours. 


has 


1 vould like 10 buy а black-light limp 
for my room, to illuminate a number of 
posters that Huoresce under such light, 
but Гуе heard that this type of illumina 
tion may be harmful to the eyes. Is this 
true?— B. F., Toronto, Ontario. 

1] you look directly at such a lamp, 
you may be asking for trouble. The 
ultraviolet rays from black light ave 
greater than those from the sun and 
caution is urged. 


ly when I ask a girl for a date, I 
II soris of plans to convince her to 
go to bed with me. But I've never suc 

by the time the evening 
st it, presum. 
g that I would be taking something pre- 
cious away from her—her virginity—and 


that she would think more of me if I 
didn’t try. Secretly, I know that I'm 
worried about being a failure when it 
comes to performing “the act.” What can 
I do to convince myself that a 
virginity is not a “pearl beyond price"? 
J. C., Ft. Worth, Texas. 

What makes you think all the girls 
you dale are virgins? The first thing to 
do is to convince yourself that your own 
virginity isn’t that valuable. Your date 
might be very willing to spend the night 
with you, but your own fear of sex 
makes you want 10 think otherwise. Try 
to relax and enjoy your date and quit 
concentrating on the sexual side of it. 
Failure to function is almost always the 
result of anxiety. 


Г dont wish to appear naive, but as a 
small-town subscriber to several hippi 
newspapers, I find that a number of 
words and terms in the text and ads ar 
over my head. Since I can't—and don't 
expect to—find them in my well-thumbed 
unabridged dictionary, 1 wonder 
would define the following for 
clipped stud, s ch stud. toke, 
rd kick, I 
bany, New York. 

Here is our unabridged way-out “Web- 
sters’: The unclipped stud who took 
the ad out for his services is a well- 
endowed, uncircumcised male hustler; the 
swinging butch stud is another hustler, 
who is very masculine in appearance and 
action and probably “does anything” If 
the host at a party offers you a toke, he's 
offering you a drag off a marijuana ciga- 
rette; if you overhear someone talking 
about a hard kick, he's talking about the 
ссі produced by a powerful drug such 
as heroin. The ad for bi-gal refers to a 
bisexual girl—one who digs both men 
and women; and an advertiser who ask. 
you lo (ripsit is suggesting that you pro- 
vide companionship for someone under 
the influence of LSD. 


WI, girl and 1 lived together for five 
months and then broke up. Neither of us 
is in love with the other, but we've been 
talking about getting back together again 
However, I heard from a reliable source 
that she had intercourse with one of my 
best buddies. 1 
won't talk. I really don't want to п 
issue of this, bectuse she is delightful, but. 
do you think, as a self-respecting male, I 
can just let her move back in with me?— 
M. V.. Anaheim, Califorr 

Why noi? You apparently made no 
promises of mutual fidelity, so no prom- 
ises were broken. After she left you, 
whom she slept with was her business. If 
she is really as delightful as you claim, 
why not concentrate on the future and 
forget the past? 


ng my German camera and as- 
sorted lenses with me when I fly to 


Europe next month. Will the Customs 
man wave me through on my reum 
home if I show him a bill of sale proving 
that the equipment was purchased in the 
U.S. and that duty already has been paid 
on it?—R. W., Detroit. Michigan. 

He'd prefer that you show him а regis- 
tration form listing the equipment and 
serial numbers, checked and signed by a 
Customs officer prior 10 your departure. 
This service is available to travelers in 
all ports and airports that handle foreign 
traffic 


B cousin and 1 had homosexual rela- 
tions when I was 11 years old. Nothing 
like that has happened since then, nor 
do I have any desire for homosexual 
суйу. But, remembe 
1 wonder if there i 
ing in my character that may return to 
trouble me in later life. De you think 
this is possiblez—L. G., Ames, low: 

Your experi ial and impor- 
tant only to the extent of your own 
concern about й. Psychiatrists point out 
that such experiences атс commonplace 
and harmless among adolescents. 


МИ, ао the British call а pound—in 
money—a pound? С. Kent, Ol 

The fist coin minted by the British 
was the penny (or "sterling"). which was 
made of silver апа was about the size of 
a dime. Twelve pennies made a shilling 
and 20 shillings made a pound, so-called 
because the law required that the penny 
be of such a weight that 210 of them 


weighed exactly one pound. 


Considering the advent of the pill, is 
the condom now completely outmoded 
as а contraceptive device?—F. V. New- 
ark, New Jersey. 

No. Though the Planned Parenthood 
Federation vates the condom as only 88 
lo 92 percent effective, compared with 
the pill's 99.7 percent, the condom is 
widely used and is readily available with- 
out prescription. It is the only contracep- 
live that affords protection against V. D.; 
it also controls premature ejaculation by 
decreasing sensitivity (though many men 
complain about this, comparing the us: 
of a condom with washing one's hands 
with gloves оп). Because of fears among 
many women about serious pill side 
effects and because of greater V. D. among 
teenagers, sales of condoms are increasing. 


All reasonable questions—from fash- 
ion, food and drink, hi-fi and sports cars 
lo dating dilemmas, taste and etiquette 
—will be personally answered if the 
writer includes a stamped, self-addressed 
envelope. Send ай letters to The Playboy 
Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 М. Michi- 
gan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. The 
most provocative, pertinent queries will 
be presented on these pages each month. 


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4 


GREATEST HITS. WASH E YOUNG 
& GREG REEVES 


Oéjà Vu. 
ل‎ 


. .. And Still More 
Selections To Choose From! 


187088 Sarbra Streisand’s 
Greatest Hits 

189639 Frank Sinatra— 
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191270 Tammy Wynette— 
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186114 Butch Cassidy and the 
‘Sundance Kid 

TWIN-PACKS—Twice the music, 

yet each one Counts as only one 

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171520 Super Rock (30 of 
Today's Siggest Hits) 

187286 Chicago (23 in all) 

189977 Sest of '70—Terry Saxter 
and his Orchestra 


A Taste oi Honey 
21 MORE 


io receive ap В ітаск cartridge of my choice FREE for 
every two additional selections I purchase. 


Вю. 
E] Mis 
Address 


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It you wish to charge the cost of the Sy: id your fir 
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O Ощ-Сага [O American Express Г) Master Charge 

Lj Diners Club Г) BankAmericard Г Midwest Bank Card 


Account Number. . 


Expiration Dote,......... 
A21-5/47 
Signature. ++ A216/6S 


© 1970 CBS Direst Marketing Services -5C-417/F70. 


39 


Sure, its important. (That's why 
we had Sergio Coggiola of Italy design 


' Sonet Hl.) 


But we also endowed Sonett with 
qualities that make it more than just 
another beautiful body. 

Like front wheel drive. (Sonett is 
the only sports carinthe worldthathas 
it.) To make straight roads out of curvy 
toads. To make dry roads out of wet 
ones. 

And dual-diagonal braking. (A 
SAAB exclusive.) That stops you on a 
Straight line. Even if one brake circuit 
becomes damaged. 

As a matter of fact, SAAB built 
Sonett with a combination of features 
you won't find together in any pei 
Sports car on the road. 

No matter how 
hard you look. 


Xa. y 


Disc brakes. Short throw.4-on-" 
the-floor, Built-in roll bars behind the 
seats. Roll over protection ifthe wind- 
shield pillars. Molded fiberglas bucket 
seats. Leathercoveredsteeringwheel. 
Even air conditioning, if you want it. 

We could go on.and on. But why 
waste our breath. You may be the kind 
of guy that doesnt look beyond a 
beautiful body. 

If that's all. you want, fine. 

If-it'ismt, you better check out ^ 
Sonett right.away. It's a limited pros 
duction model. But with allits features, 
itstillcosts alotlessthan you'd expect. 

Sonett Ill. It has all the qualities 
youwouldn texpectfrom such a beau- 
tiful body. 


®: The well-built Swede 


The only car in the world made by a manufacturer of advanced jet aircraft 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


an interchange of ideas between reader and editor 
on subjects raised by “the playboy philosophy” 


SAVE THE MINISKIRT 

The miniskirt is doomed—unless 
American women, with the support and 
fuse to wear the socalled 
Tashions and continue to wear short 
а gesture of opposition to the 
ion industry and the 
fashion publications that would defemi- 
nize women and make them pay through 
the nose for the privilege of looking 
ugly. This is a cause that should appeal 
10 PLAYBOY and to its readers, It should 
o appeal to сусту thinking woman 
still wants to look fem 
is tired of bei 
fashion d 
anti-woman, 
unappealing, ОГ course, we still w 
buy new clothes, we want to be fashion- 
le and we want to be attractive to men 
jn a manner that is consistent with com- 
fort, utility and ind Therefore, 
10 make our protest effective, we must 
have sources of miniskirts 
dresses as alternatives to the mi 
сап continue to buy clothes u 
l of just the fashion industry, 
s behind this costly nonsense. So 


E 


ty 


e 


far, 
appealed to several fashionable boutiques 
and dress shops and they have agreed 

tocks of min i 
styles. At least one shop is 
refusing to stock the midi at all. We 
hope to find girls in every American city 


who will persuade several of the better 
shops. area to cooperate: to keep 
the mini on the market [or those of 


we hope millions—who, for the sake of 
freedom and femininity, will proudly go 
out of fashion until the designers and 
the ain decide to serve 
women instead of merely emptying their 
pocketbooks. 

Phyllis Tweel 

Girls/Guys Against More Skirt 

(GAMS) 
Box 386 
New York, New York 10022 


rLAYnOY readers can—if they want to 
and if they act quickly—help save Amer- 
ican women from the greatest fashion 
folly of the century, Several months ago, 
the world’s top fash wing 
tired of n roskirts and 
the look in general, arbitrarily 
declared that fashionable women this 
fall would clothe themselves in the style 


“now 


the women's apparel industry (whose 
profits soar with each style change), the 
fabric manufacturers (whose yardage 
ld double or triple). 

pers ines (which m. 
new-product advertising and fresh. fash- 
ion topics) and the accessory manufac- 
introduce restyled 
nd one that will cost 
ions of dollars, be- 
present wardrobes will be 


cause their 
obsolete. 
Styles should and do change, but not 
in а manner so transparently calculated 
sure the consumer into luxury 
g with no alter except to 
be uncomfortably out of style. It's this 
lack of options that provoked several of 
ington to organize. With 
w fall п 
or alr 


їз are goin 
aks to shrewdly p 


dy gc 
nned obsolescence 
ke the industry rich. (One 


is that dreary dress styles are appropriate 
for these troubled. times!) The hope of 

industry is that by introducing the 
for fall and winter, when lor 
are reasonably practical. wome 
will adjust to them in time for the spring 
selection —which will require yet another 
wardrobe revolution. 

So far, the designers and the industry 
have not won the battle, and th 
where rravnoy readers come in. If co 
sumer resistance prevails, the industry 
concern will soon turn to panic and i 
designers will have to revive the short 
skirt for spring and summer or risk fi- 
nancial catastrophe. Thus, we can save 
the mini, or at least preserve it as a 
fashionable, functional, comfortable, eco- 
nomical option that is flattering to many 
women and presumably appealing to the 
male. Toward this end. we hope Р 
readers will urge girlfriends, wives 
daughters to eschew the midi 
thereby help encourage rcal consumer 
resistance against capricious and costly 
fashion [ads—especially such а depress- 
ing one as the midi 

Patricia Deem 

Fight Against Dictating 
Designers (FADD) 

Suite 581, 1629 K Street NW 

Washington, D. C. 20006 


PROTEST NETWORK 

I read in The New York Times that 
the only continuous network соус! 
the anti-war activities in Washington 


If you're about 
to buy a watch, 
why not make 


sure it's a 
1 stop watch 


2 time out stop watch 


doctor's watch 
yachting timer 
tachometer 


aviator's watch 


time zone watch 
skin diver's watch 


9 


Why not make sure it's the 
Super-C Chronomaster 

by Croton, $120. 

Write for free fact book: 
Dept. P-72, Croton Watch Co., 
Croton-on-Hudson, N.Y. 10520 


regular watch 


CROTON 


SUPER-C 
CHRONOMASTER 4 


PLAYBOY 


42 


and across the country оп the weekend 

j 8-10 was provided by a group of 
college radio stations. The 60 station 
ted by New York Univer 
WNYU, beg: asting Thursd 
ht. May 7. ued through the 
weekend. With events moy 
сусг and national sensi 
that week after the Kent State killings 
nd the Cambodian invasion—at an all- 
time high. it seems to me that this college 
network was performing a vital public 
service. The Times story stated that the 
heokup was financed with the help of 
Playboy. Con; ations to you and the 
college broadcasters for the 
tion to journalism in the public interest. 


AA 


I'm a Lutheran clergyman and profes 
sor of New Testament theology teaching 
a Jesuit university, where colleagues 
xd students have been i ng me 
to the mysteries of Roman Catholic 
mores, especially those in the sexual do- 
main, Much of what I've learned would 
sound like something out of Edgar Allan 
Poe. A horrendous theology of 
worldly n 
to Roman Catholicism-—has contributed 
to the 
xl I'm trying to 
belicls and find 


by no means restricted 


sexual h: 


ag-ups 
е the roots of these 
correctives Гог them. 
Though Fm not convinced that Hugh 
Hefner has the correct answer, Im ий 
material fom PLAYBOY as aids to dass 
room discussion, because I think Heln 
tries to solve problems rather than create 
them, 


n our society; 


The Rev. John H. Elliott 
Associate Professor of Theology 
University of San Francisco 
San Francisco, California 


STEREOSTETHOSCOPE 

A recent issue of The Lancet, the 
world-renowned medica] journal, pub- 
lished a letter from a Lebanese doctor 
med Boghos L Artinian, who declared: 


1 have designed and assembled а 

stereophonic stethoscope. The 
—but, mind you, not the desi 
was wrong)—came to me from 
ллувоу cartoon, Having used this 
instrument for two months, 1 now 
4 the ordinary stethoscope as 
an obsolete instrument. 

The essential features are the two 
chestpieces with ipsilateral and con- 
tralateral connections to the car- 
pieces, . . . It can be easily assembled 
from the components of two ordinary 
stethoscopes. The tube joining the 
chestpieces should. be of around. the 
same length as the other tubes. 


Dr. Artinian goes on to give the ad- 
vantages of his stereophonic stethoscope 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


a survey of events related to issues raised by “the playboy philosophy” 


CRAZY PACIFISTS 

caicaco—"The defendants I repre- 
sent have the delusion that our cherished 
institutions are being perverted,” attor- 
Frank Oliver told the court. De- 
fending four of eleven persons accused of 
destroying records at а draft headquar- 
ters, Oliver said his clients insanely bi 
lieve that the antiwar demonstration in 
Washington on November 15, 1969, was 
the most important event that day. “We 
sane and undeluded people know that 
the most important thing was the Pur- 
due Ohio State game,” Oliver asserted. 
(President Nixon had said he would watch 
that game while the Moratorium demon- 
stration was taking place.) To further 
bolster his case, Oliver tried to subpoena 
Vice-President Agnew, who used the term 
criminally insane in a radio discussion 
of dissent and protesters. Judge Edwin 
A. Robson quashed the subpoena on the 
giound that the Vice-President was “not 
qualified” to judge the criminal insanity 
of the demonstrators. 

Principal purpose of this legal strategy 
was to enable the defendants, forbidden 
10 make political statements in court, to 
present their beliefs to the jury in the 
process of trying lo prove their “insan- 
йу.” Judge Robson parried by ruling that 
the four defendants claiming insanity re- 
ceive psychiatric examinations instead of 
being allowed to testify on their opinions. 
On the basis of an examination, one de- 
fendant was found mentally incapable of 
standing trial. The jury declared. the 
other ten guilty. 


THE BIG EYE 

WASHINGTON, D.C.—Federal District 
Judge George Hart has upheld ihe 
right of the Army to infiltrate civilian 
groups and compile dossiers on persons 
it considers political troublemakers. The 
court dismissed a suit brought by the 
Imerican Civil Liberties Union charging 
that some 1000 plainclothes Атту In- 
telligence officers are spying оп the 
American people—and that dossiers have 
been compiled on such persons as the 
late Martin Luther King, Jv., folk singer 
Joan Baez and several former generals 
who have denounced the Vietnam war. 
After the brief hearing, at which the court 
refused to admit his testimony, A.C. L. U. 
witness and former Army Intelligence 
agent Oliver Peirce told reporters that he 
had once been assigned to infiltrate a non- 
political church group in Colorado be 
cause the founder had participated in anti- 
war demonstrations. Judge Hart denied 
the A.C.L.U.'s contention that such activ- 
ities tend to stifle free speech; A.C.L.U. 
attorneys said they would appeal. 


COMPULSORY REVERENCE 
wostox—The Massachuseits legislature 
has passed a bill making the Pledge of 
Allegiance or a portion of the Declaration 
of Independence obligatory in public 
schools, with a maximum fine of five dol- 
lars for any teacher who skips the recita- 
tion for five consecutive days or for any 
principal who does not require the recita- 
tion. In a further move toward compul- 
sory displays of patriotism, the house has 
also approved a Lill authorizing а five- 
dollar fine for members of local school 
committees that fail to provide their 
schools with an American flag. In May, 
the state enacted а law that would at- 
tempt to evade a Supreme Court ruling 
by authorizing prayers in. public schools 
before the start of each day's classes. 


POSTAL PROTECTION 

WASHINGTON, D. C.— The Supreme Court 
has upheld a 1967 law 
under which any person can enforce a 
ban on further mailings of advertisements 
he considers “pandering” or "sexually 
provocative.” The law was originally in- 
troduced by U. S. Congressman Jerome R. 
Waldie of California and explicitly leaves 
the judgment of the mails ofjensiveness 
to the individual citizen, rather than to 
the Postmaster General. Congressman 
Waldie has insisted that the law permits 
people to stop advertisements even for 
cabbages if the recipients are willing lo 
say they find these vegetables erotic. Said 
Chief Justice Burger in the ruling: “In 
effect, Congress has erected. a wall—or, 
more accurately, permits a citizen lo erect 
a wall—that no advertiser may penetrate: 
without his acquiescence.” Waldie's wall 
will no doubt continue to inspire humor- 
ists, soreheads and. people who are fed up 
with junk mail, as well as the sexually 
sensitive persons it offictally protect 


unanimously 


GOOD TRY, FELLOW 

CANBERRA, AUSTRALIA—An enterprising 
American pornographer thought he had 
worked out the problem of slipping his 
wares past Australian customs, but a 
random check of incoming mail exposed 
the scheme. The materials were being 
sent in envelopes supposedly from the 
Billy Graham Crusade, 


WAGES FOR WOMEN 

WASHINGTON, р. с—Тле U.S. Depart- 
ment of Labor, after studying employer 
compliance with the Equal Pay Act of 
1963, has found that illegal discriminato- 
ry wage policies have cost women wor 
ers some $17,000,000 since the law went 
into effect in 1965. Settlements have 
so far resulted in back payments of 


$2,000,000, and а хий against а New. 
Jersey [irm has awarded $250,000 to 
present and former women employees. 

Meanwhile, in Syracuse, New York, 
the telephone company agreed 10 hire, as 
a switchboard operator, 37-year-old. Ray- 
mond Page, who had filed a complaint 
with the slate's Human Rights Commis- 
sion charging discrimination on account 
of his sex. Then Page, when shown the 
switchboard room, turned. down the job: 
“Т couldn't work there. I mean, all those 
miniskirts. . . . I'd go right up the 
wall.” 


JUST PLAIN MIZZ 

NEW YORK CUY—U.S. Congressman 
Jonathan Bingham has pondered the 
problem oj whether lo address a woman 
as Miss or as Mrs. when one doesn't 
know which is correct—and when many 
women resent being asked. With Solo- 
monic wisdom, he has proposed а com- 
promise: the all-purpose female tille, Ms. 
pronounced “mizz,” which he believes 
should satisfy everyone. 


NUDE IS LEWD 

BOSTON—A court in the city known as 
the Gradle of Liberty has sentenced a 
psychiatrist and а woman lawyer to 30 
days in jail for walking around nude in 
their own home. Neighbors complained 
that the couple could be seen on their 
glass-enclosed rear porch and declared that 
children were looking at the house and 
laughing. Moreover. the two were not 
married. But the judge mercifully dis- 
missed charges of illegal cohabitation with 
the statement,“ These two people are very 
much in love.” He did, however, find 
them guilty of “open and gross lewdness.” 
The case is being appealed. 


A САВІЕ САВ BLAMED DESIRE 

SAN FRANCISCO—A lawyer specializing 
in “psychic injury” claims has persuaded 
а jury that his client's alleged nympho- 
mania and other psychosomatic afflictions 
stemmed from a serious cable-car accident. 
On the basis of medical and psychiatric 
testimony, attorney Marvin E. Lewis was 
able to establish that a 29-year-old wom- 
ап, once prim and proper, developed 
severe emotional problems, including an 
insatiable desire for body contact and 
sexual relations, as а result. of extreme in- 
security triggered by her close brush with 
death. The jury awarded her $50,000. 


ECOLOGISTS WHO CRY WOLF 
WASHINGTON, р. C—24lt least опе popu- 
lation ex pert is worried that some of his 
zealous colleagues may be hurting their 
own cause by predicting carly ecological. 
disaster. Dr. Philip М. Hauser, director 
of the Population Research Centey at the 
University of Chicago, told an American 
Medical Association congress that the 
danger was very real but not quite so 


imminent or recognizable as often fore- 
told; and the result could be that environ- 
mentalists would lose their credibility, 
and the public its concern, if doomsday 
jailed to occur on schedule. 


THE NEW PILL 

A report by four doctors conducting 
research jor the British government states 
that the new, low-estrogen oral contra- 
ceplive is safer than the original pills, 
whose side effects have stirred heated con- 
troversy in medical circles. Immediately, 
the U.S. Food and Drug Administration 
said й would urge doctors to prescribe 
this pill instead oj the old ones, and С. D. 
Searle and Company announced it now 
has the low-dose pill on the market. 

+ Also in England, a Birmingham clin- 
dc's survey indicates that the oral contra- 
ceptive has actually decreased casual sex. 
A plausible explanation, according to the 
researchers: By taking much of the fear 
out of sex, the pill has encouraged warm. 
er and longer-lasting relationships. 


TOBACCO ADDICTION 

A St. Louis University researcher has 
found strong evidence that cigarette 
smoking is not a psychological hubitua- 
tion alone but a physical addiction. Dr 
Budh Bhagat, after three years of experi- 
menting with rats, told a meeting of 
biologists that nicotine measmably in- 
creases the body's production and utiliza- 
поп of norepinephrine, a hormone that 
regulates the brain and other nervous- 
system tissue. This leads to a physiological 
dependency, and the withdrawal of nico- 
tine results in depression. 


LSD PERILS 

WASHINGTON, D.C—lVhile scientists 
debate the efjecty of LSD on human 
chromosomes and present contradictory 
evidence, a new clinical siudy has found 
an alarmingly high incidence of fetal 
deformity that may be attributable pari- 
ly to acid. Dis. Cheston Berlin. and 
Cecil. Jacobson, of the George Washing- 
lon. University School of Medicine, [01- 
lowed 127 pregnancies in which either 
the mother or the father had tripped on 
LSD one or The sponta- 
neous abortion yale was 43 percent (as 
compared with 20 to 25 percent in the 
general population) and the rale of 
birth abnormalities was 9 percent (18 
times higher than usual). Of the em- 
bryos recovered [or study after abortions, 
either spontaneous or therapeutic, al- 
most hal[ were deformed. However, Dr. 
Berlin urged extreme caution in inter- 
preting these results, since mast of the 
subjects had also been exposed to other 
suspected mulagenic agents, including 
other drugs, caffeine drinks, cyclamates. 
cigarettes, X rays, poor maternal nutri- 
поп, hepatitis and venereal disease. 


more Limes: 


and rules for its use. He apparently feels 
his device is a breakthrough in medical 
science, and for all I, а layman, know, 
it is. Important human progress often 
has had its origins in play and humor. 
Out of curiosity, I. would very much like 
10 see the cartoon that inspired Dr. 
Astinian, 


Charles Tyrell 
London, England 
Here it is, from the November 1969 
PLAYBOY: 


“Stereo! 


SEX EDUCATION 

Being a student, a secretary and a 
housewife, I would like to state my opin- 
the sex-education controversy. 
My elementary school years were spent in 
a Christian day school, which taught me 
basic reading, writing and агі 
sex instruction provided, This so- 
called education handicapped me greatly 
in later у when sexual. encounters 
proved to be painful revelations of my 
ignorance. 


ions on 


no 


In this mobile society, all sorts of 
sexual surprises befall the average adoles- 
cent. A conservative high school is just 
по preparation, for instance, for a young 
person's first encounter with a deviate. 
Worse yet, ing on a college 
alter 12 years of being kept in the 
can be absolutely traumatic for boui boys 
d girls who have received this ki 
Far from beco 
young people merely become hys- 
terical when they realize that with every 
step. they are stumbling and falter 
a welter of ignorance that h 
posed on them. I cannot unde 
parents fail to realize this. 
Mis, Beverly Stoughton 
Michigan State University 
East Lansing, М 


noneducation. 


INNOCENCE OR IGNORANCE? 
"Those idiots who fulminate 
education because they want to protect 


43 


PLAYBOY 


the innocence of their young ought to 
learn the difference between innocence 
nd ignorance. Consider the following 
true stories: 

+ The girl who believed she could not 
become pregnant as long as she did not 
have a climax. When her doctor told her 
the bad news, she argued that since she'd 
never had a climax, it was impossible. 
My impression is that this belief is quite 
widespread among young girls. 

+ The girl who believed that by hav- 
ing sex in the woman-on-top position 
she couldn't become pregnant. Sad expe- 
rience taught her otherwise. 

+ The girl who was raised in a very 
strict home, was never allowed to date 
and was forbidden to read books con- 
taining sexual descriptions or inform: 
tion. Her parents managed to ensure 
that she knew absolutely nothing about 
sex. As a result, when she finally did date 
a boy, he was quick to take advantage of 
her ignorance: He convinced her that 
sexual intercourse was what all couples 
did on a date. 

* The girl who believed that the only 
time a man and а woman made love was 
when they wanted a baby. When she wa 
married, the second time her husband 
approached her for intercourse on thei 
honeymoon, she told him she must be 
pregnant and he was an animal for 
trying it more than once. 

* The little girl whose weirdo physical- 
education teacher told her that kissing 
would make her pregnant, She came 
home screaming one day because a liule 
boy down the block had kissed her. 

Where sex education is absent, unwed 
pregnancies, venereal diseases and all 
inds of emotional tragedies flourish. The 
chief victims of the stupid uptightness of 
anti-sesx-education forces are the children. 
As I am a businessman in a small town 
nd the milies of the girls Гуе de- 
scribed are my good friends, 1 must ask 
you to withhold my name and address. 

(Name and address 
withheld by request) 


SWEDISH SEX EDUCATION 

I am a 15-year-old Swedish boy and I 
enjoy reading what Americans think 
about Scandinavia and its sex education. 
І һай a very good course in sex education 
in school, and I think it’s essential for 
teenagers to know about 

There is much written in American 
publications about how popular pornog- 
raphy is in Scandinavia. But, really. 
pornography is purchased mainly by 
middle-aged men—the ones who have 
sexual problems because they didn’t at- 
tend decent sex classes in their younger 
years. 


Carl Kjellgren 
Skovde, Sweden 


JOHN BIRCH RIDES AGAIN 
Eyery month, some demented individ- 
uals write to The Playboy Forum de- 


nouncing, smearing and vilifying the 
John Birch Society. I wonder how many 
of these people realize what they are 
doing or what the John Birch Society 
really is. Of course, everyone believes it is 
a secret, fascist, anti-Negro, anti-Catholic, 
anti-Semitic group. That is why anyone 
can write to its headquarters in Belmont, 
Massachusetts, for its bulletins; why it 
has a Manning Johnson scholarship fund, 
which gives tuition grants to Negroe 
why 40 percent of its membership 
Catholic and why it has many Jewish 
nd Negro members. Certainly sounds 
like a hate group, doesn’t it? 

Before I open my mouth about а sub- 
ject, I like to know all the facts. 

D. Cox 
St. Joseph, Missouri 

Here's a fact you don’t seem to know. 
None of the letters in “The Playboy 
Forum” have accused the John Birch 
Society of being anti-Negro, anti-Catholic 
or anliSemitic; your defense on this 
score is irrelevant and makes one wonder 
шлу you feel compelled to make it. 


POSTAL SNOOPING 

On February 17, 1969, three postal 
inspectors and three policemen from 
Piusburgh suburb appeared at the farm- 
house owned by my 84-year-old aunt and 
myself. They produced a search warrant 
and informed me that І did not have 
10 answer any quesions. They then 
searched our rooms, our cellar and an 
adjacent garage, after which they seized 
76 pounds of books, magazines, letters, 
photos, а typewriter and a film projector, 

nduding such peculiar items as copics 
of The Manchester Guardian and The 
w Republic, a book on the Crimean 
War, a jar of Vaseline, tubes of Mus- 
terole, suntan lotion, firstaid articles and 
a packet of condoms. I was taken to a 
justice of the peace, charged with a felo- 
hy (distributing obscene material) and 
then taken to a police station, where 1 
was fingerprinted and photographed for 
the record. 

Alter a full year of anguish, in which 1 
learned what Shakespeare meant by his 
ter phrase “the law's delay,” 1 was 
finally brought to trial on February 24, 
1970. The judge dismissed the charges on. 
the grounds that there was no evidence 
that 1 had distributed obscene material 
in Allegheny Count 

What caused my arrest? It turned 
out that a “woman” in Ohio, with whom 
I had been corresponding, was actually 
Anested on other charges in 


aom 
September 1968, he was sentenced to five 
years in prison. Subsequently, he gave 
written permission to postal inspectors 
to hold his mail and bring it to him in 
the Lewisburg penitentiary, where he 
opened each letter and turned it over to 
them. This is a method used by postal 


authorities to get access to first-class let- 
ters without opening them personally. 
(Shortly afterward, apparently for his 
cooperation in this manner, my pen pal 
was paroled.) 

Your readers can form their own ор 
ions about the ethics of postal inspectors 
from their procedure in this case. There 
is also some hint of the general mental 
competence of these men, indicated by 
the fact that they seized suntan lotion 
while searching for allegedly obscene ma- 
terials. Perhaps pornography is harmful 
after all and years of snooping for it in 
other people's mail has quite unhinged 
these men’s minds. They might need rest 
and and being assigned to 
a while could be good 
occupational therapy for them; it might 
Iso save enough money to prevent the 
threatened postal-rate inci 

Earl Wri, 
Piusburgh, Pennsylvania 


THE COLLECTOR 

1 ат a happily married man with five 
children; I also hold а responsible busi 
ness position. 1 have been looking at and 
reading pornography for 25 years—since 
I was 12 years old. I know many other 
successful businessmen and professionals 
who collect pornography and I have yet 
to meet any collectors who were unbal- 
anced. 


(Name withheld by request) 
" 


Dallas, Tc: 


SEMANTIC ANTICS 

Not long ago. an. English instructor at 
the University of Northern Iowa asked 
his Composition 1 class (of which I was 
a member) to write an essay on their per- 
sonal reactions to the following groups 
of words: (1) pig—policeman—othcer; (2) 
whore—prostitute—courtesin; (3) faggot 
—homosexual—gay; (4) fuck—inteicourse 
—make love; (5) nigger—black—Alro- 
American. I, along with the great major- 
ity of the class, felt that the assignment 
, as it made us aware 
of our immediate gut-level responses to 
certain words even before these words 
are put into the context of а sentence, 
‘The lesson also illustrated how words 
having the same denotation can have 
vastly different emotional connotations. 

Olfcampus, however, a terrific com- 
troversy erupted. State senator Francis 
Meserly has begun a relendess crusade 
against the university and has urged cur 
ailment of state funds. He has also 
taken a petition to the state legislatur 
signed by 1500 "silent Americans" de- 
manding (among other things) that a 
course on “Rhetoric for Agitation and 
Protest" be dropped immediately. (The 
course explores the emotional impact of 
certain words used in confrontations be- 
tween opposing groups) The petition 


was very instructi 


10) Playboy Club Nens 5) 


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PHILADELPHIA—Later this 
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Clubs and Club-Hotels across 
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T. 


jayboy Buil 
Gentlemen: 


CLIP AND MAIL TODAY — 


TO: PLAYBOY CLUBS INTERNATIONAL, INC. 
ing, 919 Н. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Illinois 60611. 


Please send me an application for my personal Playboy Club Key. 


Now's the time to enter the 
exciting world of Playboy. Apply 
for your Key today—just fill in 
and mail the coupon below. 


YOU'LL FIND PLAYBOY 
IN THESE LOCATIONS 
Atlanta - Baltimore • Boston 
Chicago + Cincinnati » Den- 
ver - Detroit - Jamaica 
(Club-Hotel) + Kansas City 
Lake Geneva, Wis. (Club- 
Hotel) + London + Los An- 
geles = Miami - Montreal 
New Orleans - New York 
Phoenix = St. Louis « San 
Francisco 

SET— Great Gorge, N. J. 
(Club-Hotel) « Philadelp! 
PROPOSED Cleveland 


Fee ез $1 for 
billet for the Annual 


NAME — (PLEASE PRINT) — em, 
OCCUPATION D = 

Си = 
ciry STATE ZIP CODE 
u ial Key Fee is $30. Canadian Initial Key Fee is $30 Canadian. Init 


(cars subscription lo VIP, the Club magazine. You will be 
ey Fee (currently $6 U.S: $6 Canadian) at the close of 


first year as a keynolder. For information regarding European lees. write the 
Membership Secretary. The Playboy Club, 45 Park Lane, London, Wl, England. 
O Enclosed find check or mcney order for $30. O Bill me for $30. 

payable to Playboy Clubs international, Inc. 
O I prefer a credit Key. 


9503 


PLAYBOY 


46 


ks that “all members of the ш 
community—administrators, fac 
ulty and students—be made aware that 
they are employees of the people of low: 
and subject to the wishes of those paying 
thei. salaries." Meanwhile, a local colum- 
nist has declared that “Simple good taste. 
culture and ordinary morality have all 
gone down the drain at UNI in the 
face of the omnipotent god called aca- 


demic freedom.” This gentleman was 
most aroused by the word гаі 
though 1 pe the 


word nigger much more offensive and 
obscene. 
Edward F. Samore, Jr. 
University of Northern Iowa 
Cedar Falls, lowa 


OHIO SEX STANDARDS 

A decision by the court of appeals of 
Ohio sets down standards for judging 
pornography that are truly amazing. The 
decision, written by Judge Lynch (hoi 
см). concerns the casc of a Youngstown 
grocer who had some raunchy maga 
for sale in his store. Here are some high- 
lights of Lynch's legal reasoning 


ines 


The laws of Ohio and the city of 
Youngstown prohibit extramarital 
sexual relations, as offensive to the 
moral standards of the people of 
Ohio. Nudity to the extent of expos 
ing the external genitalia of а male 
or female human body is also. pro- 
hibited as likely to incite or encour: 
age extramarital sexual relations. 
is not per se obscene, but the 
use of the human body for sexual 
behavior not intended in the crea- 
tion of human beings can make such 
behavior obscene. 

"The great majority of women in 
ized societies observe a sense of 
decency, and cover their sex organs. 
However, а small minority of wom- 
en in civilized societies defy this gen- 
1 
sexual behavior and degrade them- 
selves by publicly exhibiting their sex 
organs by assuming poses that are un- 
usual or unnatural for any other pur- 
pose except to expose 

The sexual behavior por 
yed in such pictorial pornography 
is not the usual behavior of а mar- 
ried woman in the presence of her 
л their private bedroom. 


their sex 


Following Jud icis logic. since 
extramarit is illegal in Ohio, all 
ed people ought to wear blinders 
and be led by secing-eye dogs whenever 
they leave their houses, lest they look at 
the opposite sex and lust after them. His 
second point, that all nomeproductive 
belt obscene, would lead, if 
anyone enforced it, to the imprisonment 
bout 95 percent of the populati 


ior 


according to Kinscy's estimate. As for hi 
last point, if this is what marriage is like 
n “civilized” Youngstown, the people of 
that city must lead drab and joyless lives. 
Peter Wicker 
Yellow Springs, Ohio 


THE SWAPPERS SWATTED 

It turns me off completely when T read 
about mate swapping. Sex is a beautiful 
thing and should be shared by two people 
who have warm feelings toward each 
other, mot just by strangers sceking 
thrills and new techniques. Furthermore, 
while 1 believe that children should be 
raised with liberal attitudes toward s 
am certain that learning that their par- 
ents are pant of the orgy culture cannot 
to have a distorting effect on their 
minds. 


Stephanie Diodato 
Brooklyn, New York 


THE MIRAGE OF MARRIAGE 
Since undergoing a wedding ceremony, 
I've had an uneasy sense that there was 
something wrong with the whole deal. 1 
love my woman very mudi. But—the 
gowns, the walk down the aisle, the 
weeping congregation, the bridesmaids, 
the reception—what were they all for? 
It cost us damned near $1000 to obtain 
a piece of paper that makes it OK in 
other people's eyes for us to live in the 
same house and sleep in the same bed. 
To me, à marriage exists when people 
fall in love and decide that they want 
each other for the duration. The guy 
who dreamed up the wedding routine 
must have been insane or one of the 
greatest con artists of all time. 
Micil Murphy 
Hollywood. Califor 


AN AMERICAN TRAGEDY 

Shortly after our marriage, my hus- 
band acquired an excellent position in a 
rge corporation, in which his immediate 
supcrior was а covert homosexual, Since 
my husband was boyish and handsome, 
this man began making subtle advances 
toward him. Ar first, my husband was 
amused and tolerant and even took ad- 
ntage of the situation to some extent, 
hoping it would advance areer. 
Soon, however, the pressure to submit 
became overpowering and there was a 
good possibility thar he would lose his 
job if he continucd to hold out. He 
began drinking heavily and both of us 
were completely distraught. All this hap- 
pened in only а few months and our 
uppermost thought was that if he sud- 
denly quit his job, it would be hard to 
explain to a prospective employer why a 
young man, just out of college, would 
leave such an excellent job after less 
than half a ye 

Then, in one night, thc tragedy dc- 
scended. The police notified me that my 


di 


husband was under arrest for hoi 
He had gone drinking with his super- 
visor in a last attempt to maintain a 
cordial relationship without becoming 
sexually involved. When both were 
blind drunk, something happened. My 
husband has never recalled the details, 
but the fact is that he beat the other 
man to death. In court, psychiatrists said 
that my husband had become psychotic 
because latent homosexual impulses had 
been aroused in him and he couldn't 
face them. Now, he is in a mental hospi 
tal and, due to guilt about killing а man 
and confusion about his own sexual 
entity, he is becoming increasingly 
withdrawn and seems unlikely to recover. 

When rLaAysoy states that homosexuals 
should have the right to a private sex 
life with consenting adults, I suppose 
you are right, at least in an abstract 
sense, but I wish you would add that the 
consenting adults should be other homo- 
sexuals. When а man who considers him- 
self suaight is pressured by а persistent 
homosexual (I've also seen this happen 
to men other than my husband), the 
results are always unpleasant and some- 
times tragic. 


ide. 


(Name and address 
withheld by requ 


st) 


ON TOLERATING HOMOSEXUALS 

nkly, I am sick of reading the соп» 
ints of poor "innocent" homose 
who were entrapped by the police. Е 
ls may be 
such a thing as 


dis 


“poetic justice. 
Franklin Allen Resch 
Cleveland Heights, Ohio 


The mistreatment of homosexuals by 
police is inexcusable, but one can oppose 
such injustices without going to the op- 
posite extreme and saying that homosex- 
uality is a perfectly natural alternative to 
heterosexuality. 

A friend and I were hitchhiking, when 
we were picked up by three homosexuals. 
Although they made no physical ad- 
vances, their conversation was entirely 
designed to flaunt their sexual deviation 
in our faces. Such people are abnormal 
and it is not surprising that normal 
people feel 
presence. 


their 


uncomfortable in 


Bob Hughes 
High Point, North Са 


cution of 


People allow police ре 
homosexuals because they think in sterco- 
types. For instance, if you read that two 
Lesbians were arrested, you would im- 
mediately picture two hulking and ugly 
females dressed in men's clothes, who 
walked and talked like men and who 
were obviously very neurotic. My love 
and I are both Lesbians and we are not 


like that at all. We are very ordinary- 
looking, middle-aged ladies, quite femi- 
nine and very unfreaky. Our friendship 
turned into sexual love only after we 
were convinced by bitter experience—we 
һай both been married and divorced 
twice—that marriage with men just 
couldn't work for us. Ideally, of course, 
Lesbians shouldn't be harassed even if 
they do fit the stereotype: but it appears 
to us that in this country. whether or not 
you get justice is partly dependent on 
your “image. 


(Name withheld by request) 
Phoenix, Arizona 


By publishing letters on both sides of 
the homosexual issue, PLAYBOY has taken 
an enlightened first s 
ing the discrimi 
Is in the U.S. 
I am a homosexual and for the past 
five years I have lived with the shame, 
guilt and dread of being discovered. I 
am not aware of missing anything by not 
enjoying sex with females. If it were not 
for public persecution. 1 and many oth- 
стз like me would lead very happy and 
productive lives. If this is our choice, 
should we not be allowed to live by it? 
(Name and address 
withheld by request) 


Although I myself am а happily ma 
ried and à completely normal male, I 
pplaud rLAYmov's efforts to en- 
lighten people on the problem of homo- 
sexuality. I personally believe the Armed 
Forces are wrong in classifying all homo- 
xuals as security risks. Some homo: 
uals are very brave men, willing to die 
for their country. They deserve better 
treatment than they are given by society. 

Set. William Hobson 

Robins AFB, Georgi 


HOLDING THE LINE 

Lest the letter from my good friend 
Bob Martin (The Playboy Forum, May) 
leave your readers with the impression 
that the homophile movement has been 
captured by the New Left, I should point 
out that some of us take a dim view of 
this noisy intrusion by long-haired, wild- 
eyed street urchins. It is common knowl- 
edge that the Commie-pinko-anarchist 
fringe wies to take over any minority 
cause it can latch onto; and for us, it had 
to со ater. But Martin gives 
a false picture of the young 
tingent bulldozing its platform. through 
the Eastern Regional Conference of 
Homophile Organizations, leaving the 
elderly liberals in total defeat. The 
Ct is that, immediately afterward, 
E. R. C. Н. О. voted to suspend itself for 
one ye curious move, akin to shoot- 
ing yourself in the head before the next 
guy does it for you. In this way, however, 
we prevented a take-over of our organiza- 
on by the extremists; and once the dust 


sooner or 
adical con 


settles, the homophile cause can be rest 
rected as a sine and rational movement. 
Foster 
Eastern Regional Conte 
Homophile Organizations 

Hardord, Connecticut 


GOOD BOOK OR HATE BOOK? 
The Western Conference of Homophile 
Organizations voted at its convention in 
Los Angeles to demand reparations from 
the churches for sanctioning the murdi 
of homosexuals and perpetuating the 
oppresion of gay people. The guilt of 
the clergy stems from their acceptance 
of the anthomosexual attitudes cx- 
pressed in the Bible. This book picks 
out two sins as being worse than any 
others: murder and sodomy. These are 
described ng to heaven for 
vengeance, The Catholic Encyclopedia 
states that these sins call for punish- 
ment by a special act of divine jus 
tice, pointing out that God destroyed 
Sodom with fire and brimstone on ас 
t of the rampant homosexu 


Saint Paul brings the wrath of God 
upon those men who, “leaving the natural 


use of . .. woman, burned in their lust 
one toward another. 
wh 


He adds, “They 
h commit such things are worthy of 
uh. 

Homophile clergymen who have ас 
tempted to explain these passages away 
have failed miserably. The passages are 
crystal clear and no amount of theolog- 
ical double talk can change their mean- 
ing. It is time this hate book was 
dumped on the rubbish heap of history. 

Don Jackson 
Bakersfield, Californi: 


NATURE'S GOD VS. CHURCH'S GOD 
When science was an infant, religion 
sought to strangle her in the cradle. 
Servetus, the great anatomist who antici- 
pated William Harvey's discovery of the 
circulation. of the blood, was burned to 
uh by pious John Cal der of 
Presbyterianism. Copernicus, father of 
modern astronomy, refused to publish his 
ics during his lifetime for fear o£ 

the Roman Catholic Inquisition. When 
Bruno dared to declare the  Coperni- 
cin theory in public, he was, like Serve- 
tus, bur nd Galileo, for the same 
“crime,” was forced to recant and was 
incarcerated for life. Martin Luther de- 
dared that anyone who didn't believe in 


witchcraft was denying the Bible and 


was, therefore, as bad as a witch. When 
Darwin propounded his theory of evolu- 
tion, he was denounced from virtually 
every pulpit in Christendom. Benjamin 
nklin’s invention of the lightning 
rod led to severe criticism of him by the 
New England clergy. The same pattern 
has been repeated in virtually every 
other science with each major break- 
through in knowledge. 

Now, however, science is respec 


ble, 


and religion shamelessly attempts to ally 
dı a shotgun. wed- 
possible. As philoso- 


pher ant said on the occasion 
of man’s landing on the moon, “We must 
leas of Deity. Deity is 


not some omnipotent something that sits 
outside the universe and regulates the 
mechanism. We must now accept а пас 
wralisic Deity.” In my opinion. the 
Church's God must give way to nature's 
God mentioned in our Declaration of 
Independence. This is the God of Jef 
ferson and other 18th Century rationalists 
of Spinoza; of Albert Einstein; the God 
not of theology but of science 

Charles Gree 

San Bernardino, Californ 


SOPORIFIC RELIGION 

n with great interest that I read 
the May Playboy Forum letters about 
mandatory chapel attendance at West 
Point, Annapolis and the Air Force 
Academy. 1 ran across the chapel-attend- 

nce problem while doing research for 
The Brass Factories, a book I wrote on 
the three major Service academies. 

Even the academies are not entirely 
sure of their legal footing when it comes 
to forcing their students to attend chap- 
el. I quote from an official report I 
unearthed, which summarizes the posi- 
tion of the superintendents of the three 
‚ as they voiced it at one of 
nual meetings: 


academi 


There is some question about the 
legality of requiring mandatory 
chapel attendance except for the 
J.A. С. [Judge Advocate General] of 
the Naval Academy, who believes 
this policy is legal. None of the 
academies have experienced 


trouble with this pol 


any 
and agreed to 


hold the line" on present polic 


Moreover, during interviews for my 
book, 1 heard repeated criticisms of the 
mandatory-chapel policy from persons at 
the academies; namely, that it makes a 
sham of religious exercises not only in 
the minds of many cadets and. midship- 
men but in the minds of some of the 
chaplains at the academies as well. The 
perversity of the policy is well illustrated 
by the comments of one Annapolis facul- 
ty member I interviewed. He recalled 
that during a class discussion, some sen- 
iors pointed ош that the Naval Academy 
chapel is known as Sleepy Hollow. He 
said his students told him of one mid- 
shipman who even habit of 
sleeping under a pew during services. 
Others merely dozed while sitting up- 
right. 


made a 


J. Arthur Heise 
Tonawanda, New York 


CAPITALISM VS. MILITARISM 
In the May Playboy Forum, 
A. B. Hale, Jr., stated: “The 


PLAYBOY 


48 


does not exist until after the mission has 
been accomplished. Were that principle 
not observed, our Armed Forces would 
be disorganized mobs." 

‘The great American capitalistic system 
functions because private industry knows 
that individuals can work voluntatil 
a team when adequately reimbursed 
money and dignity, America would be 
sad shape if private business and industry 
as inefficient as the Armed Forces, 

Ronald Pesha 
Greeley, Cole 


lo 


PINKVILLE AND THE ARMY 
I wasn't at My Lai and don't know 
what happened there, but I've been in 
Vienam long enough to know that it 
would be a miracle if this war d nor 
produced dozens of such atrocities. Му 
first week here, I saw some Vietnamese 
villagers looking for something of value 
п a ditch where the Army dumped its 
junk. A soldier, who could plainly see 
these people, dumped another truck- 
load of scrap on top of them, including 
Gü-pound track sections from armored 
vehicles. | also saw a sergeant tear-gas 
a population known to be friendly: he 
did it, as he said, "just for laughs" and. 
he was not disciplined or rebuked. Every- 
where I've been stationed, the Viet- 
mese pcople—all the people, not just 
the Viet Cong—are called “slants” and 
looked upon with hatred or contempt. 
‘The brass does nothing to correct these 
titudes and tacitly seems to encourage 
them, The Army has only two purpose: 
to teach you to kill and to teach 
10 obey orders. Any human сар: 
above this level are not only unnece: 
to Army operations but may be а 
drance; hence, such personal attribute: 
insight, compassion and intelligence are 
hed and brutal behavior, such 
1 have described, becomes the norm. 
15 it any wonder that atrocities occur? 
Pinkville is the inevitable result of the 
way the U. S. Army trains its men. 

Tm not writing this as some resentful 
college intellectual who got drafted: 1 
a high school dropout who enlisted 
voluntarily, full of respect for my clders 
and a desire to serve. Now, I can only 
look on the whole system with revulsion 
and pity, and regret that I have been part 
of this abomination. 

Sp/4 Bruce R. Meigs 
APO San Francisco, Calilorni 


you 


MILITARY JUSTICE 

lam a black U.S. Marine serving in 
Vietnam. I joined the Corps in June 
1968 with the intention of making it my 
lile's career, but now 1 am eagerly lo 
ing forward to my discharge in Septem- 
ber. Some of the things that changed. my 
attitude toward the Corps are: 

As soon as I arrived at my first base. I 
realized that blak men were selected 
more often than whites for the most 
revolting jobs, such as cleaning the la- 


wines. In addition. Confederate flags. 
were displayed in conspicuous places on 
base. The brass was well aware that U 
жаз very offensive to the black Service- 
men. but the flags remained. 

Although the Afro-style haircut 
officially sanctioned by the Cory 
ordered to wear my hair white 
When I refused, the haircut was adminis- 
tered by a sergeant in [ull view of a 
group of white clerks. 

When I was seen reading Black Pa 
ther Party literature, I immediately be- 
came subject to special harassment, even 
though I'd made no move to join the 
B.P.P. or even correspond with it. 
Word went around that the comm: £ 
officer believed I was a member of the 
Panthers and, shortly thereafter, J was as- 
signed to Vietnam. I was also denied leave 
to visit my relatives before gc 
the Nam, although I had nine d 
acquired leave time on the records and, 
usually. this request is routinely granted. 
I was finally given leave time, but only 
on condition thar I extend my duty in 
Vietnam three months even before going 
there. When 1 appealed this decision and 
demanded а captain's mast hearing. I 
was informed that my name would be 
put on the waiting list but I would be 
in Viemam before the hearing could 
таке place; and this proved to be the 
cast. 

1 expect to receive ап honorable dis- 
charge and I am now being very careful 
not to provide them with any excuse to 
give me a lescthan-honorable опе. Nev- 
ertheless, I am writing this letter, since 
the American. people should know what 
happens to a patriotic young man in the 
Marine Corps if һе happens to be black. 

L/Cpl, George M. Reeves 
FPO San Francisco, California 


TO LOVE OR TO LEAVE 
Do the proud citizens who sport the 

bumper sticker AMERICA—LOVE IT OR 
LEAVE IT realize that, traditionally, this 
country has been one in which a man 
can dissent, speak out or demonstrate 
without fear of penalty? Today, if one 
protests а Government action, such as 
the Vietnam war, he is told to leave the 
country by the thoughtless Americans 
who support this slogan. As а military 
man, Га recommend а different motto: 
etinam—Love It or Leave Н. 

AL/G Charles Tanner 

Williams AFB, Arizona 


KENT STATE 
Unde: the laws of many states, anyone 
who incites a riot or otherwise provokes 
n incident that results in death can be 
charged with murder, whether or not he 
participated in the killing or 
present at the time. Without 
this legal doctrine very far, 
argue that President Nixon and Vice- 
President Agnew should be held respon- 
sible for the тизет of the four students 


was even 


stretching 
one ca 


at Kent State University and that officials 
of the Ohio National Guard should be 
charged as accomplices. 

The Administration's frequent and 
viuiolic attacks on student protesters 
invariably portray them as animals, 
bums, irresponsible troublemakers, im- 
moral dope fiends and traitors, who aren't 
worth the powder it takes to blow them 
all to hell. With such ugly images in 
their simple heads, the young Guardsmen 
sent to keep order at Kent State viewed 
the college students as "the cnemy"—and 
a dangerous one at that. And so, in 
moment of anger and panic, they will- 
ingly opened fire. They might not hav 
reacted with such thoughtless violence 
toward a group of "American citizens 
expressing legitimate grievances"—rocks 
or no rocks; but so-called bums, impudent 
1 dangerous radicals were fair 
me. Nor could they have reacted so 
1 the Ohio National Guard 
—contrary to Regular Army policy 
sent them onto the campus with loaded 
weapons. 

The “murderers” of those students 
were not the frightened young Guards- 
men, poorly trained and commanded, who 
uiggcied the fatal shots but, rather, the 
Government olficials who created the di 
mate of hatred and provided the instru- 


nor 


ments of death that made this tragedy 


le but inevitable. 
Michael Martin 
Chicago, Illinois 


OUR VANISHING CIVIL LIBERTIES 

The Defense ics and. Industrial 
Security Act of 1970 discussed by Hiroshi 
Kanno and Val R. Klink (The Playboy 
ит, June) is one of a series of legisla- 
e measures intended to nullify the Bill 


of Rights in general and the First Amend- 
ment in particular. This bill is, in fact, 
so atly unconstitutional and so 


badly drafted that, in normal times, we 
might not take it seriously—but these 
are not normal times. 

In his Charter Day address at. Berke- 
ley, Mayor John Lindsay made the obser- 

i There are men—now in 
power in this country—who do not rc- 
spect dissent, who cannot cope with tur- 
moil and who believe that the people of 
America are ready to support repression 
s long as it is done with a quiet voice 
and a business suit." The Defense Facili 
Чез and Industrial Security Act uses this 
rationale to create an agency that will 
replace the inquisitorial institutions. of 
the Joe McCarthy era. This agency 


would possess the power to investigate 


nization,” regarding 
tions, facts and condi 
tions, past and present" This bill also 
includes а so-called immunity provision, 
which prevents unwilling witnesses fro: 
nvoking the Fifth Amendment to avoid 
informing on their associates, with the 
threat of indeterminate imprisonment for 
civil contempt if they refuse. 


апу person or ol 
behavior, associ; 


During the witch-hunts of the сапу 
1950s, the Amerie people were rescued 
from such repressive le tion by the 
Supreme Court under Earl Warren. ‘The 
libertarian Justices of that Court soon 
became a prime target of the authoritari- 
right wing. Now that the executive 
ch of vernment has joined the 
to silence dissent, the independent 
being dismantled by Nixon's 
attempted appointment to the High 
Court of a type of “conservative,” who is 
interested in conserving everything ex- 
cept the 


pression. Attorney Gener: 
thrown the full force of his department 
into the battle. He made the decision to 
prosecute the Chicago Eight, the 
Government's case. rewrote the 
the police riot during the 1968 Democratic 
Convention, The g evidence 
that the attacks by local police upon the 
Black Panther Party were elevated into a 
nationally coordinated war of annihil 
tion by the Federal authori Me 
while, this toughness has been matched 
by an equal tolerance for paramilitary 
formations on the right. In Chicago, the 
ion of Justice has raided left-wing or- 
d even held press confer- 
ences, to show their stolen properties, 
without any effective prosecution. 

In short, we can begin to see the clear 
outline of a potentia] police state in the 
0.5. a homegrown variety of fascism 
marching under the bı not of the 
but of the Stars and Bars of 
strategy. 

Executive Director 
;ohicag: itec to Defend 

the Bill of Rights 

Chicago, Illinois 


swastil 


OVERSEAS DRUG ARRESTS 

"There has been a m: 
the number of young Americans arrested. 
abroad for illegally using or trafficking 
drugs. There were 142 Americans under 
detention on drug charges in 20 foreign 
countries іп March 1969, but in March 
total had risen to 522, Virtual- 
sons m 
der 30 years of age. In our experience, 
most of these young Americans expected 
that foreign countries would be more 
permissive than the U.S. in their laws 
and law enforcement concerning drugs; 
4 many thought that their own Goyern 
ment could do more for them in case of 
trouble than, in fact, it can. 

The penalties for drug violations in 
most countries are severe. The charge— 
whether for possession or, more serious, 
g—is usually determined by the 
nvolved. Possession of more 
500 grams (about one pound) results. 

inimum of plus a 
tries or, in others, 
one to three years in a “detoxification 
asylum"—usually а mental hospital. 


js j 
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Trafficking in drugs carries а penalty of 
ten ycars to life. In some countries, prison 
conditions are primitive: damp unde 
ground locations; rats and vermin; in- 
fficient light, heat and food: absence of 
sanitary facilities: abuse by other prison- 
ers, Pretrial confinement can be pro- 
longed—in some countries, up 10 one 
year without bail. Language difficulties 
compound the tragedy. 

Americans traveling abroad are subject 
to the Jaws of the country they are 
visiting: they are not protected by U.S. 
laws. The U.S. Government can only 
seek to ensure that the American is not 
discriminated against—that is. thar he 
receives the same treatment as do nation- 
als of the country in which he is arrested 
who have been charged with the same 
offense. When a U.S. citizen is arrested 
abroad, consular officials move as quickly 
as posible 10 protect his rights, but the 
laws of the county where the arrest 
takes place determine what those rights 
are. 

We urge Americans traveling abroad 
to be aware that the potential conse- 
quences of drug violations can be very 


ichael Collins 
Assistant Secretary for Public Affa 
United States Department of State 


С. 


САММАВІЅ AND PUBLIC HEALTH 
e following is a letter sent to Presi- 
dent Nixon by 96 members and em- 
ployees of the United States Public 
Health Service, including 38 physicians, 
58 administrators and other profession 


As physicians, commissioned. ой- 
cers and employees of the U.S. Pub- 
lic Health Service, we wish to make 
known our views concerning mui- 
juana, 

Many spurious claims and charges 
have been made by the Federal Bu- 
reau of Narcotics and Dangerous 
Drugs. All of these allegations 
been disproved by research, 

Marijuana not alter basic 


does 


ijuana is not causally related 
to crimes of violence. 

Marijuana does not lead to in- 
creased sexual activity. 

Marijuana docs mot lead to the 
use of other drugs. 

As some 90,000,000 U. S. citizens 
have used marij and ha 
firsthand knowledge of its effects, 
the conti misrepresentation by 
the Bureau of Narcotics and Danger- 
ous Drugs tends to make young 
people lov confidence in authority 
figures in general and the. Govern- 
ment in particular. It also leads 
young people to doubt information. 
concerning truly dangerous drugs, 
such as amphetamines, nicotine, bar- 
biturates and alcohol. 


With this country ranking 21st in 
the world in its infantmortality 
rate, ninth in maternal mortality, 
first in deaths due to coronary-ariery 
disease, its V. D. rate climbing, mil- 
lions of its citizens malnourished 
and other millions having only poor 
access to health care, there are many 
more urgent health problems than 
marij smoking. These priorities 
demand all the resources we can 
give them to increase the general 
health level of the people of the 
United States, Money now spent оп 
preventing Cannabis usage should 
be directed toward these more im- 
portant problems 

We also urgc laboratory and clini 
cal studies on the efficacy of this 
drug. If its use as a tranquilizer, 
sleeping pill and musde relaxant 
are confirmed and no пем side 
effects are found, it would be much 
safer than. present medications, Fur- 
thermore, a search of medical litera- 
ture reveals that it may have uses as 
an analgesic. appetite stimulant, 
pileptic, antispasmodic, anti- 
depressant, antiasthn апаш» 
sivc, antibiotic, childbirth anesthetic 
and withdrawal agent for opiate and 
alcohol addictions. 

We urge you to take a reasonable, 


responsible approach. to Cannabis; 
an approach that will conserve our 
most precious natural resource— 
people. 


(Signed by 96 persons) 
San Francisco, California 


JUDGE OF THE YEAR 
I quote from The Washington Times- 
Herald of Washington, Indian: 


A youth arrested in a dormitory 
тоот at Indiana State University for 
illegal possession of marijuana was 
sentenced to 180 days at the state 
farm and fined $524 after pleading 
guilty here Wednesday. 

The judge called [tbe youth's] 
offense "the most serious crime I 
have seen aking the bench 
nearly two years ago. 


nce 


I wouldn't 


If 1 hadn't seen it in pi 
have believed it. 


polis, Indiana 


CRIME AND PUNISHMENT 

I read a report in the Dorchester, 
Maryland, News concerning a married 
couple who had been found guilty of 
involuntary manslaughter in the death 
of their infant son. Despite previous con- 
victions of both (the husband for assault 
and battery, the wife for nonsupport of 
her children), the judge suspended sen- 
tence and let them walk away, though 
ordering the wife to attend а mental- 


health clinic. An unus 
judge, 1 thought. 

Then I read about the next case on the 
calendar, which involved a young veteran 
with no previous convictions who had 
been caught with marijuana, The youth's 
lawyer argued that Congress is consider- 
ing lowering the penalty lor possession of 
pot from a felony to a misdemeanor. 10 
which the judge immediately responded, 
“God forbid.” The sentence was two 
years. 


lly compassionate 


na really that much worse 

ng a child until he dies? 
James L. Jones 
Linkwood, M 


ryland 


THE MENACE 

About two years ago, I came upo 
two daughters smoking marijuan: 
their bedroom, They were 16 and 17 at 
the time and I became terribly upset. 1 
repeated all the misinformation about 
marijuana that 1 had acquired over the 
years; they turn, patiently quoted 
scientific evidence and told me their own 
experiences to try to calm me. They 
mitted having frequently smoked таз 
juana for over a year and added that 
regardless of my attitude, they would 
continue. After several weeks and many 
long 
I agreed that two well-edu 
their ages could make thi 
on this matter. 
irls graduated fom high school 
т with аром ge marks and 
le the honor roll. They both 
held good jobs during the summer; and 
the а did not seem to decrease 
ity for work any more than it 
had damaged their school achievement. 
They are now in college and doing well. 


1 am finally convinced that marijuana 
a relatively harmless drug, especially 
compared with alcohol. 


My only remaining fear concerns our 
cruel and destructive laws against ma 
juana. 1 thank rLAvmoy for 
attempt some enlightenment 
to this subject and I hope to God your 
articles. letters and editorial comments 
have some effect on our legislators. The 
real menace to my family is not pot but 
our lawmakers and police! 

(Name withheld by request) 
San Francisco, Califor 


want to 
to br 


SHOCK THERAPY 

I wish to straighten out those letter 
writers who gave their opinions on electro- 
convulsive therapy (ECT) in the January 
and May Playboy Forums. Having per 
sonally administered over 50,000 electro- 
shock treatments since 1941, I think I can 
better judge its merits than most of your 
correspondents. I have given weatments 
to patients with recent acute coronarie 
and fractures. to patients who have һай 
major surgery five days before, to women 
in their eighth month of pregnancy and 


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RENN 


to persons over 90 years old, to name а 
few. I have never witnessed any serious 
harmful effects, or deaths, resulting from 
this therapy. 

The fact that some patients become 
worse alter electroshock proves nothing, 
a certain number of patients become 
worse with any treatment. Incidentally, 
the confusion, disorientation and amne- 
sia described by some of your letter writ- 
ers are desirable effects of the ueatment 
and are usually proportional to the degree 
of recovery. Mental patiens have a 
degree of memory impairment anyway, 
whether they receive ECT or not. 

I also take exception to the doctor and 
nurse who wrote that patients should be 
put under sedation before receiving elec- 
troshock. 1 have not used pretreatment 
sedation for 20 years, because this pro- 
cedure actually increases the patient's 
anxiety. Furthermore, I've never had a 
patient who could remember the shock 
and, therefore, none complained that it 
was painful, 

I would only add that ECT has sur- 
vived over 30 years and psydiiauric lit- 
crature abounds with thorough studies 
showing its efficacy. 

Joseph Perlso 
San Bernard 


I. D. 
no, California 


COPS AND THEIR CRITICS 
1 am a police officer and 1 was very 
distressed by the number of leners in the 
March Playboy Forum describing abuses 
of police authority. Instead of writing 
leuers about such things, people should 
fight ack. If you are treated unfairly by 
a policeman, complain to his superior. 
If that doesn’t work, go even higher. 
But, above all, don't assume tha 
policemen are like the ones described 
the March Forum. There's a new bre 
of police officer these days who wants to 
hear your complaints, because he wants 
to make the police force better and help 
and serve the public. 
Joseph P. Kosakowski 
‘Albany, New York 


UNEASY RIDER 

Ive seen Easy Rider twice and 1 was 
terrified by its honesty. But let's not kid 
ourselves and think that the senseless 
hostility it portrays applies only to the 
South: Eus) Rider is the story of A 


Forum, March) that only the police d. 
partments in Louisiana are likely to be 
stupid and cruel. 

Most of the time, I'm a pretty mangy- 
looking character. But Гус traveled 
through every Southern state—alone, 
with a gil and with equally mangy- 
looking guys—and I've never experienced 
anything but Southern hospitality. A po- 
lice chief in a small South Carolina town 
once cooked breakfast for three friends 
4 me when our car broke down. As for 
Louisiana, there аге some mighty nice 


people down there. I've heard about 
ugly incidents happening to others trav- 
eling in the South; 1 guess I'm lucky. 
But | haven't been so lucky їп the 
North. I could tell Paul English a few 
hairraising tales about Chicago, New 
Haven and Albany, New York. 
Michael F. Wolf 
Davis, Californ 


THE RESPECTABLE PROSTITUTES 
There is a small town renowned all 
over this part of Texas as the locale of 
an active house of ill repute. Though 
quite illegal, this establishment is app 
ently tolerated by local law-enforcement 
officers, since its existence is an open 
secret and is the subject of general kid- 
ding. One evening а few months ago, 1 
happened to visit this house with several 
fellow college students (more out of cu 
riosity than anything else, considerir 
the reported high price). Imagine my 
amazement when I was refused adu 
sion because of the length of my hair 
Frank Goodwyn, Jr. 
Kingsville, "Tex 


INTEGRATION IN LOUISIANA 

A while ago, the governor of Louisiana 
spoke on telev bout tlie great strides 
his state has made in integration. 1 am 
from the North and lived in Baton Rouge 
last year, while att na State 
University. Not ny prejudices 
дайы the black man, I naturally made 
ids with many of the soul brothers 
there. 

The governor said there were 2000 
Negroes in the LSU system, neglecting to 
t there are a total of 55,000 
students overall, making for an integra- 
tion percentage of 3.6 percent. No won- 
der Louisiana has such a high rate of 
illiteracy. 


fri 


Marc A. Quinlan 
Husson College 
Bangor, Maine 


THE COLEMAN CASE 

Thank you for publishing my letter 
about the case of John Coleman, a black 
leader employed by the Flint, Michigan, 
Ombudsman project, who was arrested 
in a highly questionable manner (The 


Playboy Forum, May). Since I wrote to 
have been several new de- 
is. First of all, John Colema 


y agreed to take a polygraph 
(lie detector) test, but the two policemen 
involved in his arrest refused in writing 
to take this test. Meanwhile, a task force 
ol concerned citizens, mostly white and 
induding a good representation. of the 
Flint religious community, has investi 
gated the case and issued several state- 
ments sharply criticizing the Flint police 
for staging the raid in predawn hours, 
for entering with drawn guns, for search- 
nd for terrorizing 
tire houschold on a matter growing 
out of a purely technical charge. (Every: 


one admits that Coleman's possession of 
the two guns in question was legal under 
Michigan law, and whether or not this 
was technically illegal under Federal law 
will have to be decided in the courts.) 

ag the newspaper coverage of 
this matter, Flint police chief James 
Rutherford called a press conference and 
alleged that he had evidence that all of 
the recent bombings around the country 
were plowed by the SDS-Weatherman fac 
tion at Sacred Heart Church here in Flint 
ast December. He added that the dyna- 
mite for the bombings was purchased by 
a man in clerical clothing and distributed 
at that church. Since our citizens’ task 
force meets at Sacred Heart Church апа 
the two priests of that church regularly 
wear clerical clothing, a strong implica- 
tion has been created that any group 
associated with the church may be a ter- 
rorist revolutionary group. We have is- 
sued a statement pointing out that the 
chief. has not produced any credible 
evidence (but merely claimed that he 
had it), that the Weatherman group did 
not meet at the Sacred. Heart Church but 
at the Giant Ballroom elsewhere in Flint 


and that those of us who know the two 
priests are absolutely confident tha 


would never be involved in violence of 
Nevertheless, as the Joe Mc 
Carthy era proved, a denial never quite 
catches up with an accusation if the 

is wild enough; and all of us are 
now living under a cloud of suspicion, 
merely because a group of citizens went 
to the defense of a black man who hı 
been abused by the police, 

The Rev. Thomas E. Sagendorf 

Interfaith Action Council of 

Greater Flint 
Flint, Michigan 


SEX OBJECTS 

As I understand women’s liberation, 
there is а great deal of sense and also a 
great deal of nonsense in the movement. 
The sense consisis of a quite legitimate 
demand for an end to various sorts 
of economic and social discrimination 
against women; any fair-minded person 
must support this. The nonsense revolves 
around the elusive e 


pression sex ob 


ject. which means either too much or 
too little and, therefore, fails to commu- 
nicate anything. 


A sex object, as the term was original- 
ly used by Freud, is any person от thing 
to whom another person directs his or 
her erotic impulses. According to Freud, 


the normal sex object for an adult male 
is an adult female, and vice versa. Those 
who have other sex object—such as lit 


Ue boys or girls, shoes or girdles, dead 
bodies, etc.—are categorized by Freud as 
deviates. The Freud: theory, then, is 
that i for men to seek women 
as sex objects and for women to seek 
men as sex objects; and that those who 
seck other outlets have been deflected 


51 


PLAYBOY 


52 


from normal development by some sort 
of childhood trauma. 

Now. when women's liberation leaders 
say t women should not be sex ob- 
jects, what do they mean? Do they want 
men to seck other sex objects and be- 
come deviates or fetishists? Do they want 
men to have no sex objects at all, to 
become celibate nd, hence, allow the 
human race to die out? І suppose some 
of the extremists in the movement—e g.. 
those who have urged women to mastur- 
bate rather than associate with men— 
mean exactly this. Others, however, hold 
more conventional views, yet they also 
use the term sex object pejorativel 
Is this just a case of the common habit 
of picking up popular expressions and 
repeating them without considering their 
implications? Or does the phrase have 
some new meaning unknown to Freud 
and psychoanalysis? 

1 wish some of the lad 
this point. 


mw 


s would clarily 


James O Mall 
Boston, Massachusetts 


MEN'S. LIBERATION 

While the women's liberation front. is 
seting all the press coverage, à men's 
liberation front has quietly come into 
existence—with no fanfare, no publicity, 
no dogmas and no rigid organization. 
‘The members simply liberate themselves, 
without marching, demonstrating or 
writing polemical pamphlets. How big is 
this movement? I don't know, but one 
statistic (published in Medical Aspects 
of Human Sexuality last April) is reveal- 
ing: A private-detective agency reports 
that jt handles 1000 cases of missing 
husbands for every four cases of missing 


women aren't the only ones 
seeking liberation these days. The dil- 
ference is; The women talk; the men act. 
John Stevens 

Dayton, О! 


INDIVIDUALS VS. FRONTS 
The women’s liberation front is at- 
tempting to have women overeome their 
feelings of inferiority by political means. 
But an inferiority complex is а psycho- 
logical problem to be fought individu 
ly by each woman. Women's lib defines 
the problem—prejudice, the myths of 
male superiority and female inferiority 
—and offers the solution: Women, 
unite! Since the movement has obvious- 
ly ^d personal volition, blaming 
women’s woes on society and male 
ploitation, it should give up hopes of 
freeing women; if women are purely the 
product of their society, they can do noth- 
ing to change themselves or that. society. 
Women's lib seems bent on turning 
out ро! activists, not self-confident 
adults. The goal of this movement has 
shifted from helping a woman realize 
her individual potential to encouraging 
йг role as membeis of 


a revolutionary collective—which is sad, 
ince the movement could have a positive 
clet on womens lives. The idea of 
making women aware of the psychologi- 
cal and political subjection they've had 
to submit to is good, as are the ideas th: 
women can be intellectually equal to 
men and should be dealt with on the 
is of their ability and not. punished 
because of their sex, But instead of ex- 
plaining 10 women why they shouldn't 
consider themselves inferior because of 
their sex, women's lib lectures on class 
struggle and revolutionary realignment, 
using current political jargon, substituting 
the word women for poor, black or op- 
pressed. Instead of helping women, they 
are cashing in on the prevalent political 
climate. What happens to the individual 
wom: 
political rhetoric? She simply adopts an- 
other context in which to lose herself. 
Goldenberg 
у, Iowa 


n in the midst of this blast of 


WOMEN'S LIBERATION 

I am not a radical feminist and I have 
long been zn appreciative reader of 
PLAYBOY, even defending your ma 
ainst men who argue that your 
proach is degrading to women: but 
Morton Hunt article (May) was certainly 
a disappointment. Why did you imagine 
that a male author could possibly unde 
stand or explain the economic (and 
other) injustices that women face in this 
society? Why. why did you pick а man 
who has such a patronizing, mocking and 
unsympathetic view of the problem? 
nd why, why, why did you let him get 
way with using outof-context quotes 
from a few extremists to make the whole 
feminist movement look as if it consisted 
of nothing but anti-sexual freaks? 

Most infuriating of all was Hunt's a 
tempt to rationalize the economic explo 
tation of wome 
clever verbiage is going to convince a 
divorced, deserted or widowed wom 
who is tr self and her 
children 
percent of what men in the same jobs 
ake home. You pride yourself on espous- 
ng progressive causes, but Up Against 
the Wall, Mate Chauvinist Pig! was a 
long step backward from your cnlight- 
ened stance. 


on a 


Dr. Norma Erickson 

St. Louis, Missou 

We appreciate your friendship for 
PLAYBOY and hope it will continue after 
you know a few facts about Hunt's arti- 
cle. For openers, we don't think it any 
more unusual for а man lo write about 
injustice 10 females than for a white to 
write about injustice to blacks, We've 
happy that Abraham Lincoln didn't fail 
to write the Emancipation Proclamation 
because he was neither black nor a slave. 
n. short, we're glad to hear your criti- 
cisms, but we think that blaming the sex 
of the author for your displeasure is 


exactly the kind of sex prejudice modern 
feminists claim to be fighting. 

Having now defended our choice of a 
man to write the article, we must confess 
that, in anticipation of this type of criti- 
cism, we tried to find a woman to do the 
assignment. Several refused, asserting 
they feared becoming targets of the ex- 
treme feminists’ wrath. А young woman 
finally did accept the. assignment. and 
wrote the article; but when we asked her 
to clearly separate the programs of the 
moderate feminists from the irrationality 
and anti-sexuality of the extremists—and 
to devastate the latter—she refused. She 
expressed fear that she, too, would be 
attacked by “hey sisters.” and. indeed. 
she was later intimidated into contribut- 
ing S100 as “reparations” to the Wom 
en's Liberation Center, presumably for 
dealing with the enemy: men. She also 
admitted, in an interview with Screw, а 
New York weekly of soft-core pornogra- 
phy, that she was really trying to reach 
1AVBOY's “readership of millions" with 
a message quite the opposite of the one 
assigned to her: “I tried to concentrate 
on male liberation,” she said. “After all, 
men are trapped by roles as much as 
women are.” We finally gave this woman 
full payment for her article and retained 
permission to use il as research (we 
eventually utilized a single anecdote). It 
was then, facing an imminent deadline, 
that we asked Hunt, who had writien a 
book about male and female roles (“Her 
Infinite Variety’ —highly praised by fem- 
inists), to do the article for us. 

We can only suggest that you reread 
Hunt's article if you think he used “oul- 
of«ontext quotes from a few extremists 
to make the whole feminist movement” 
look bad. The subhead of the article 
reads, “Militant man-haters do (heir lev- 
el worst to distort the distinctions be- 
tween male and female and to discredit 
the legitimate grievances of American 
women.” We believe the article lives up 
to that premise. Il isn't we who have 
done the discrediting—the kookie [emi- 
nists on the extreme fringe have done it; 
and the sooner rational women such as 


you disavow these divisive and destruc 
tive elements, the sooner women and 
men can get together to solve the very 
real problems faced by both sexes. (See 
“Dear Playboy" for additional letters 
about Hunt's article.) 


“The Playboy Forum’ offers the oppor- 
tunity for an extended dialog between 
readers and cditors of this publication 
on subjects and issues raised in Ни, 
M. Hefner's editorial series, “The 
Playboy Philosophy.” Four booklet re- 
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including installments 1-7, 8-12, 13-18 
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“Philosophy” and "Forum" to: The 
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Michigan Ave, Chicago, Illinois 60411. 


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53 


PLAYBOY 


54 


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PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: DR. P AUL EHRLICH 


a candid conversation with the outspoken population biologist and prophet of environmental apocalypse 


In the three years since biologist Paul 
Ehrlich wrote “The Population Bomb” 
—a chilling scenario of the world's fale 
if people and their principal by-product, 
pollution, continue to multiply un- 
checked—the book has sold 1,250,000 
copies and its author has become the 
chief spokesman for what promises to 
become the most important campaign of 
the Seventies: the crusade to save the 
environment. Ehrlich is very much in 
demand; clubs, college 
networks find his message of ecological 
doom so compelling that he can’t possi- 
bly answer every summons: “I get around 
Iwo dozen requests a day and I’m booked 
solid jor the next year.” 

Despite the scientific nature of what 
he has to say, Ehrlich has become contro- 
"ial; one Sam Francisco columnist, 
Charles McCabe, called him “the Cassan- 
dra of contraception" and “in his own 
way... more dangerous than Hitler” 
Ehrlich endures this kind of irrational 
vituperation because he thinks the situa- 
lion is desperate. “Some of my colleagues 
think it’s loo late, that weve already 
done too many irreparable things, given 
birth to too many people. They've given 
up. I think we may have some time, not 
much, but enough to turn things around 
and save ourselves, if we slarl now. 
That's why I'm doing all this traveling 
and spcechmaking. Not because I like it 
but because 1 want my daughter to enjoy 
a full life, and I'd like to live another 
few years myself.” 

Ehrlich came naturally to biology, As 
a child in Philadelphia, he was fascinated 


“The water in some rivers is becoming 
too polluted to purify, and evidence is ac- 
cumulating that DDT in our fatty tissues 
has reached levels high enough 10 cause 


brain damage and cirrhosis of the liver 


by butterflies (he wrote a book on the 
subject in 1961) and pursued his interest 
with a biology degree from the Universi- 
ty of Penusylvania in 1953 and an M. A. 
and a Ph. D. from the University of Kan- 
sas. After a short stintat the Chicago Acad- 
emy of Sciences, he joined the faculty oj 
Stanford University, where he served for 
three years as director of graduate study 
for ihe department of biological sciences. 
Currently a full professor of biology, 
Ehrlich considers himself a scientist and 
researcher by profession and a missionary 
Jor ihe ecology movement only by reluc- 
tant choice. A rare combination of nat- 
ural eloquence and articulate. expertise 
in population biology—the study of how 
species naturally control their growth and 
size—made him from the beginning of 
his teaching career one of those special 
professors who both trouble and inspire 
students. During one recent semester, he 


and associate Dr. Richard W. Holm 
taught an undergraduate course that 
drew over 700 interested students—an 


indication that Ehrlich has no trouble 
meeting the current student demand for 
relevance in the classroom. In fact, some 
of his pupils were the fust to cary his 
message beyond the confines of academe. 
As а result, Ehrlich found himself mak- 
ing presentations and being interviewed 
frequently around the San Francisco Bay 


area. 

On one of those occasions, he хо im- 
pressed David Brower—then head of the 
most prestigious American conservation 
organization, the Sierra Club—that the 


“Our large population is responsible for 
air pollution that could lead 10 massive 
starvation in the United States within the 
next two decades—because air pollution 
changes the weather of the planet.” 


two made arrangements for a book by 
Ehrlich to be published by Ballantine as 
part of а Sierra Club ‘series. Ehrlich 
worked every night for three weeks and 
produced “The Population Bomb,” an 
effort that has been consuming almost all 
of his waking hours ever since. “One 
thing I didn’t know about writing a 
book is how much people are willing 
to listen to you talk about it. In my 
case, that’s a very helpful phenomenon. 
Through interviews, talk-show appear- 
ances and that sort of thing, been 
able 10 get through to thousands of 
people who will never read my book, nor 
any other, for that matter. Im told that 
my two appearances on the Johnny Car- 
son show generated some of the heaviest 
viewer response in the program's history. 
So I must be reaching people.” 

Ehrlich reaches people because, unlike 
many scientists, he feels no trepidation 
about leaving the laboratory and enter- 
ing the political arena. He is president 
of a group called Zero Population 
Growth that is dedicated to stopping 
population growth and environmental 
deterioration in this country through po- 
litical action. In every speech, he attacks 
the national leadership for its ecological 
ignorance and irresponsibility, sometimes 
calling the President and other Govern- 
ment officials, simply, "boobs Because 
audiences, particularly the young, re- 
spond enthusiastically to this kind of 
blunt talk, Ehrlich is a coveted speaker at 
college and university programs aimed at 
mobilizing environmental activism. 

Although Ehrlich takes seriously his 


vironment. And the things the Admin- 
istration is talking about doing—emission 
standards for automobiles and so forth 
are like giving aspirin 10 a cancer victim. 


55 


PLAYBOY 


56 


self-assigned role as propagandist, he re- 
grets the damage it’s done to his private 
life. He has had to defer work on two ba- 
sic biology texts that emphasize ecologi- 
cal considerations—projects he has been 
laboring over for several years and feels 
strongly about. “Ecology has been largely 
ignored in biology teaching over the past 
few decades, but it’s certainly the area of 
biology that should be emphasized. to- 
day.” He has also given up his most 
valued form of recrealion—piloling his 
own small airplane. When he finds him- 
self aloft now, it’s generally in a commer- 
cial airliner, on his way to another talk 
alerting people to the perils facing the 
sky above and the carth below. But all 
this relentless crusading has cut most 
deeply into the time he can spend with 
his wife, Anne (who co-authored his te- 
cent effort, “Population, Resources and 
Environment"), and his only child, a 
14-year-old daughter (he often makes the 
point that “population control starts at 
home” by telling audiences that he is 
married, has one child and has had a 
vasectomy—a form of sterilization for 
males). 

His tight schedule was an obstacle 
even for PLAYBOY when we approached 
him with our request for an interview. 
Leisurely taping sessions wilh Ehrlich in 
his home or office simply weren't possi- 
ble, so we had to intercept him on the 
road and squeeze in whatever question- 
ing his time allowed. One such meeting 
occurred on April 23—the day after 
Earth Day, an event hailed by many 
commentators and Government officials 
as the signal of a new era of ecological 
awareness. With the unfortunate excep- 
tion of a police-student clash in Boston, 
demonstrations had been peaceful; at- 
tendance in most cities was large; spon- 
sors and supporters of the event—which 
found ecologists, including Ehrlich, speak- 
ing all over the country—were en- 
couraged. By all accounts, every ecologist 
could have afforded to take the next day 
off. Ehrlich, however, was up carly and 
off to the University of Toledo for an- 
other speech. Over coffee, he told us that 
it was part of а tour that would have 
him crisscrossing the continent, losing 
sleep and missing meals for the following 
three weeks. 

We attended his speech at Toledo and 
watched Ehrlich establish rapport with 
the students as very few 37-year-old men 
can. He clearly enjoys the familiarity of 
academic surroundings and the irrever- 
ent wit of scholars, one of whom intro- 
duced him, saying, “Dr. Ehrlich has said 
that 20th Century man is engaged in a 
rape of mother nature; now, I don’t 
have to tell you what, in the current 
parlance, that makes us.” As Ehrlich be- 
gan his speech, citing various horripilat- 
ing statistics to buttress his theme of 
runaway world-wide overpopulation, he 
was repeatedly distracted by someone's 


clapping. Looking up, he identified the 
culprit as an exuberant infant, pointed 
and said, “There's the problem.” Alter- 
nating this way between grim statistics 
and gallows humor, he held his audience 
in rapt altention for almost an hour. 

After a brief question-and-answer ses- 
sion, Ehrlich lingered long cnough to 
talk with the students who crowded 
around him to ask questions or tell him 
of their cfforts in behalf of Zero Popula- 
tion Growth and similar organizations, 
Then he returned to his hotel for а 
rushed meal and a hasty departure for 
the airport. His timing was off and he 
had almost an hour to wait before his 
plane departed. We took advantage of 
this unexpected interlude, found com- 
fortable chairs next to а window over- 
looking the main runway and began 
taping. The seductive springtime after- 
noon made Ehrlich's vision seem remote, 
indeed, so we began the interview by 
asking him to explain his prophecy of 
apocalypse. 


PLAYBOY: Why do you say the death of 
the world is imminent? 

EHRUCH. Because the human population 
of the planet is about five times too 
large, and we're managing to support 
all these people—at todays level of 
misery—only by spending our capital, 
burning our fossil fuels, dispersing our 
mineral resources and turning our fresh 
water into salt water. We have not only 
overpopulated but overstretched our en- 
vironment. We are poisoning the ecolog- 
ical systems of the carth—systems upon 
which we are ultimately dependent for 
all of our food, for all of our oxygen and 
for all of our waste disposal. These very 
complex ecosystems are made up of 
many different kinds of organisms; we're 
killing off those organisms and simplify- 
ing the systems, The stability of ecosys- 
tems is dependent on their complexity; 
if they become simple, they become u 
stable. Suppose, by analogy, that our 
lives depended on the functioning of a 
very complex computer. If transistors 
were being removed from that computer 
at random, we would have reason to Ье 
concerned. In the same way, every time 
we turn over more land to one-crop 
farming, every time we eliminate a spe- 
cies, as we are doing with the California 
condor, the peregrine falcon and the 
brown ре we reduce the complex- 
ity of the systems upon which our very 
existence depends. 

In a balanced ecological system, the 
effects of sudden fluctuations in the pop- 
ulation of one species are canceled out 
by the actions of other species. Should 
one natural predator of 2 pest fall prey 
to а new disease, Ше complexity of the 
system ensurcs that other predators will 
keep the pest populat check while 
the diseased species builds new immuni- 


ties. What man does is counter to this 
natural process and. in the long run, to 
his own best interests. When we use 
synthetic pesticides to increase crop 
yields, we reduce the population of the 
pests’ natural enemies, because most of 
these chemicals are toxic to both the 
pests and their predators. Once we climi- 
nate the natural controls, we have to use 
even more pesticides. The insects build 
up immunities and become resistant to 
the pesticides, while their predators may 
very well be wiped out. So by spraying 
miracle crops, we simplify the system to 
the point where we have not only mira- 
cle crops but miracle pests, and the only 
way we сап keep on is to use more 
chemicals that slowly poison us. 

If we do something to an ecological 
system in one place, the whole system is 
affected. We must learn to look at the 
whole world and the people in it as a 
single interlocked system. It’s impossible 
to do something somewhere that has no 
effect anywhere else. There are a number 
of ecological rules it would be wise for 
people to remember. One of them is that 
there is no such thing as a free lunch. 
Another is that when we change some- 
thing into something else, the new thing 
is usually more dangerous than what we 
had originally. We can’t affect one part 
without affecting another. People must 
learn those laws of dependencies and 
interrelationships. One of the greatest 
defects of our Government is its failure 
to educate people about the intercon- 
nections among population, pollution, 
environmental deterioration, war and 
resource deple: 
PLAYBOY: Whi 
critical threat? 
EHRLICH: The basic problem is too many 
people, and nothing else can be solved 
unless we solve that problem. Though 
overpopulation is the fundamental threat 
to survival, the most immediate manifes- 
tations of the problem are poisonings of 
ecological systems and the threats of 
world-wide plague, weather change and 
thermonuclear war. Take your choice. 
PLAYBOY: How docs overpopulation in- 
crease the likelihood of nuclear war? 
EHRLICH: We have limited resources on 
the planet. At projected rates of con- 
sumption, we will exhaust many of the 
important ones before the year 2050. 
When resources are limited, the per-capita 
share will decrease as the population 
grows. There will be greater and greater 
competition for these resources, and com 
petition for resources is one of the major 
causes of war. Friction among nations is 
also likely to increase as countries realize 
that other countries are destroying their 
environment. There are now arguments 
about environmental problems in опе 
country caused. by activities in another, 
by pollution from one country invading 
its neighbor. That's something that pushes 


us toward war, And even without a 
thermonuclear war. other major disasters 
еп out of the questi 
PLAYBOY: Such as? 
EHRLICH: Our large polluting population 
is responsible for air pollution that 
could very easily lead to massive мату 
tion in the United States within the next 
two decades, perhaps within the next five 
ıs, because air pollution changes the 
weather of the planet. А rapid change in 
ather would result in drastically 
decreased food production, and we have 
less than а year's reserve of food at the 
moment for this country alone. 

We're also dangerously 
world-wide plague. partici 


dy for a 
y since we 
take diseased 
people rapidly from continent to cont 
ent. In 1967, we just missed a plague 
with the Marburgvirus, never before 
seen in mankind, which was transferred 
from monkeys to human beings in а 


oratory in Marburg, Germany, and 
a laboratory in Yugoslavia. Thirty 


people caught this extraord: 
gious and lethal disease. 
spite of the fact that they were well fed 
and had excellent. medical care. И that 
se had spread through the world, we 
could have lost two billion people, be- 
cause most people in the world are not 
well fed and don't have any kind of 
medical care. To show how dose we 
came, the monkeys carrying the disease 
were at London's airport for two weeks 


before they went to Marburg. И the 
disease had been caught by human 
beings there, we might have exterminated 


most of our species. 
Biological-warfare labs 
monstrous threat to the 
because there is no such thing 
accident-free virus laboratory. There ar 
accidents, lots of them. It’s quite possible 
to build an organism that would run 
through mankind, Killing virtually every- 
one, because of a lack of resistance in the 
human population. The medical profes- 
. n its concern with the diseases of 
middle mply isn't prepared for 
the posiibility—or perhaps I should say 
the eventual certainty—of such а world- 
wide plague. Many medical practitioners 
wrongly feel that vast epidemic diseases 
are no longer a problem, so the medical 
profession and the Government aren't 
prepared for that contingency 
PLAYBOY: Isn't the public becoming aware 
of these problems and aren't we begin- 
ning to move toward тетей 
EHRLICH: We're hearing a lot of 
now, but that’s опе of the probl 
Politicians ате talking about ecology and 
most of them don’t have the vaguest idea 
of what it's all about. Even many of 
those involved in ecology don't really 
have the facts, But the main hang-up at 
the moment isn’t just that people 
doing a tremendous amount of talking 
without much knowledge at no 


ate another 
а] of man. 


s 


sio 


гей 


action has been taken—no what- 
soever—on either the population or the 
environmental front. The things the Ad- 
ministration is talking about doing to 
help the environment—emission stand- 
rds for automobiles and so forth—are 
like giving aspirin to a cancer victim. 
PLAYBOY: But hasn't all the rhetoric begun. 
to spur research into possible technologi 
remedies that may ecological 
disaster much less likely? 
EHRLICH: Man's technology n't cli 
nated all of the natural controls on his 
population, but it has artificially expand- 
ed, at least temporarily, the carrying 
capacity of the planet. Let me give you 
analogy. Suppose we put gelatin 


tio! 


папа a pair of fruit flies 
into a bottle. The fruit flies breed, their 
offspring breed and the population 


builds up. Eventually, the population 
becomes so large that the excreta of the 
flics fouls the medium and the food 
supply diminishes to a critical level. The 
fly population dics off or dics back to a 
lower level. By increasing the size of the 
bottle or putting more food into it, we 
haven't removed any natural control 
we have only temporarily increased. the 
amyimg capacity of the environment. 
Eventually, the flies will again overshoot 
the carrying capacity of the bottle and 
die. Man's technology has tempora 
xpanded the carvying capacity of 
earth, but increasing. that capacity with- 
out population control only guarantees 
that a larger number of people will die in 
is than would have died if we 
sed the carrying capacity 

have tọ unde nd the sheer 
bers of the problem and the rate 
cceleration of population growth. 
It took about 10.000 years for world 
Еа to grow from 5,000,000 to 
n 1650 a.D., so popula 
‚ doubling approximately every 1000 
rs. World population reached. 
п 1850: the doub) nc 
been reduced to 200 Two 
was reached by 1930: that’s a 
doubling in 80 years. We've almost com- 
pleted the next doubling, only 40 years 
later. We're adding 70,000,000 people to 
the world every year. Thi ans that we 
have а new United States: popul 
tion and all that implic: terms of 


You. 


one 


had 
billio 


nvironmenta] stresses—every three years. 
Let me put it another w ll of the 
wars fonght by the United States, we 
have suffered around 600,000 combat 
deaths. World population makes up t 
amount in about half a week. If с 
growth could continu 900 years 
there would be about 100 people per 


less to say, population growth м 
to a screeching and disastrous 
before th 
PLAYBOY: What is the maximum popul 
эп the world could support without 
age? 

difficult to. determine 


come 
long 


EHRLICH: the 


It's 


There probably is no 
such static figure, but many scientists 
think the population of the United 
States should eventually be reduced to 


ideal population 


well under 50,000,000 and that of the 
world to an absolute maximum of 
500,000,000. 


PLAYBOY. Could family planning cut the 
birth эзге and reduce population to this 
optimum level? 

EHRUCH: In general, around the world, 
the problem isn't un 
wanted babies. This doesn't mean we 
shouldn't have an allout camp 
reduce the number of unwanted births, 
if they aren't that importa 
the whole. Some people es 
the United States, a third of 
are unwanted and that if we can elimi- 
nate these births, we will go a long way 
toward solving our population problem. 
Perhaps, but it’s very dificult to deter- 
mine how many children people want. 
They say one thing and perform «Е 
ferently. Certainly, it's impor 
no woman be compelled to ha 
she doesn't want; but as far as the world 
demographic situation is concerned, we 
have to change people's attitudes on how 
many children they do want. Despite the 


fact that fami ning has existed in 
many countr long time and in 
the United States for well over 60 years, 


we still have rapid population growth. 
We've tied family and ме 
know it doesn't work. Th. 
family planning isu't valuable, but more 
is needed to persuade people not to have 
100 many children. 

PLAYBOY: How many is too many? 
EHRLICH: Any more than two is too many. 
With a lim 
the ауе 
where around 1.3 or 1.4, 
we need to bring rapid population 
growth in the United States to a halt 
before the end of the cent 
PLAYBOY: Do you th ment reg- 
ulations will be necessary to achieve thi 
EHRLICH: The first thing we should. 
а Government propaganda 


And we should 
start a TV campaign of spot commere 
to keep g the id 
better for all concerned—especially the 
arents—to have families of two children 
or, if you want more, to adopt them; 
that it’s stupid and irresponsible to have 
large families. We should also climina 
the motion that there is something 
strange or barren about а childless couple. 
PLAYBOY: What if simple reason doesn’ 
work and pcople continue to reproduce 
an excessive rate? 

EHRLICH: If we're going to ack this 
problem, the Government has to act in- 
telligently, starting with the least coer- 
cive measures to remove the pressure, the 
conditioning, to reproduce. If propagan- 
da doesn’t work, the Government could 


57 


PLAYBOY 


58 


give incentives not to reproduce. If those 
fail, it could resort to disincentives—such. 
as changes in the tax structure. The 
thing is that eventually, if we don't 
manage population control with volun- 
tary means, the Government will have to 
step in and employ sanctions of some 
sort. Laws control the number of wives 
you can have now and, if necessary, 
they'll control the number of children 
you can have, too. 

PLAYBOY: Wouldn't people resist Govern- 
ment interference with what most con- 
sider an inviolable individual freedom? 
EHRLICH: People aren't sufficiently aware 
that their freedoms are rapidly disap- 
pearing because there are more and 
more people. As population grows, we 
find that there are more and more re- 
strictive laws on where we can drive, 
whether we can own a gun, whether we 
can fly an airplane, where we can throw 
our garbage, whether we can burn 
leaves. And as conditions become more 
crowded, even stricter and more compre 
hensive Government controls and regula- 
tions will be implemented. 

PLAYBOY: We've already seen that mas- 
sive, impersonal—and impersonalizing— 
Government machinery is required to 
maintain our large population centers. 
What are some of the other psychosocial 
effects of crowding? 

EHRLICH: I'm doing some research at the 
moment on the effects of crow 
human beings, and all I can say 
nobody knows what its overall effects 
are. There are indications th 
increases aggression, etc., but there is no 
way to correlate population density with 
events and conditi ious arcas of 
the country and to be certain that crowd- 
ing is the critical factor. In addition to 
too many people, crowded areas also 
have a different racial composition, edu- 
cational level, and so on, from non- 
crowded areas. But it’s interesting to 
note that per-capita cost of police protec- 
tion, for example, gocs up dramatically 
as cities grow larger. It costs a lot more 
to police one city of 1,000,000 than ten 
cities of 100.000. There are a number of 
indicators right there. I'm not saying 
that crowding in itself is causing riots, 
but nobody with intelligence says 
that crowding is unlikely to contribute 
to riots. 

PLAYBOY: Some social critics claim that 
activists such as you are exaggerating the 
urgency and importance of population 
problems and accuse you of minimizing 
and diverting attention from far more 
cal national problems. A recent New 
Republic article, “The Nonsense Explo- 
sion,” implied that you are an alarmist 
and that what you call a population 
explosion isin the U.S, at lea 
merely a population shift away trom 
older rural communities into large urban 
complexe: 
EHRLICH: I am an alarmist, because I'm 


very goddamned alarmed. I believe we're 
facing the brink because of popula 
pressures, I'm certainly not exaggerating 
the staggering rate of population growth; 
it’s right there in plain, round numbers. 
Whatever problems I'm diverting atten- 
tion from will be academic if we don't 
face the population-environment crisis 
now. As far the redistribution of 
population to the cities is concerned, 
it would be impossible even for a cas- 
ual observer in this country to over- 
look the progressive concentration of 
people in large, sprawling population 
centers; it has been documented so thor- 
oughly that it’s almost cliché. The prob- 
lem is that this urban population is still 
growing. But in his last State of the 
Union Address, the President didn't say 
we should cut down the size of the 
n; he said all we have to do is 
ribute back from the cities to the 
towns. That's absolute idiocy. But let's 
make the simplistic assumption that 
we're going to redistribute, anyway; in 
other words, tell every fifth city dweller 
Los Angeles, say—to go somewhere 
else. Lets also assume they would go. 
Well, if people go back to their rural 
home towns, they'll be faced with the 
same problem that prompted them to 
leave there in the first place: They 
couldn't € a living there. 

Others suggest that we redistribute to 
new towns. You get two choices if you're 
going to do that. You can locate these 
new towns in places where people can 
live—that is, where there's water, which 
allows you to have agriculture. But this 
would aggravate the already serious 
problem of loss of farmland. In 
nia, for instance, the largest agri al 
state in the Union, farmland is being 
paved so fast that by the year 2020, 50 
percent of it will be concrete. And that's 
the best 50 percent, because most of the 
people settled originally on the prime 
agricultural land. ce this land is the 
best 50 percent, agricultural production 
will decrease during the next 50 years 
by more than half, and the people on 
this 50 percent are going to spew their 
pollutants out over the adjacent un- 
paved marginal land, thus reducing йз 
already limited productivity. By setling 
оп the best 50 percent of agricultural 
l and paving it, we are signaling 
doom for almost all California agricul- 
tur 

The other choice is to put people in 
Nevada or someplace like that. Why 
aren't more people in 
now? Because there's nothing people can 
do in Nevada; they need water. So if 
people are going to move there, it will be 
necessary to desalt and then truck or pipe 
water in to them—an extremely € 


sive and ecologically unsound practice. 
То say that the problem 


s that we occu- 
py only a certain percentage of Аше 
a's land surface is to miss the essential 
point. Secretary of the Interior Hickel 


made the observation that when you fly 
over the United States, you can see that 
most of it is underpopulated. This kind 
of nonsense is no more acceptable in the 
mouth of the Government official most 
concerned with environmental questions 
than it is in the pages of a supposedly 
learned journal. It’s a matter of people 
and resources, not of people and square 
footage. There's plenty of uninhabited 
square footage on the moon. 
PLAYBOY: Aren't some nations, such as 
Japan, with fewer resources and greater 
population densities than ours, attempt- 


ing to increase population? 
EHRLICH: Japan's recent move to increase 
the birth rate may go down in history as 


one of the most idiotic moves ever made 
by a government, although there are 
many contenders for that honor. Japan 
already has to import around half of her 
food and she has to take from the sea 
roughly one and a half times the protein 
she is able to grow on land. She's in- 
volved in a race with other countrics to 
get the last protein out of the sea. She 
soon going to have very grave feeding 
problems and, with her present popula- 
ion-doubling rate of about 70 years, she 
will eventually have to turn aggressively 
toward the mainland. But even without 
mil 
ions such as Japan, Russia and the 
United States are far more serious eco- 
logical threats than the underdeveloped 
nations in Asia or Latin America 
PLAYBOY: Even though the populations of 
countries such as India are growing 
much faster than those of the highly 
developed nations? 

EHRLICH: Absolutely. The average white, 
middleclass baby born in the United 
States has a future of consumption and 
pollution ahead of him that cannot be 
matched by 50 of his counterparts 
Calcutta, who will probably not have 
enough food to survive as long as it will 
take the American kid to reach his peak 
consumption years. To keep that Ameri- 
can baby in the style this country has 
decided is necessary, a large quantity of 
tural resources of underdeveloped 
J have to be mined and made 
available to American industry. Most of 
the time, this exploitation doesn't re- 
quire legions of occupying troops. We 
have the technology to extract the re- 
sources and use them; the underdevel- 
oped nations don't So we go in and 
build our plants or sct up our mines, 
which employ a number of the natives 
who lived in absolute poverty before 
industry came along. In return for beef 
ig up the local economy, we get the 
minerals, some of which may filter back 
into the economy of the nation that 
owned them. But as resources become 
cer, the populations of the developed 
countries grow larger and the govern- 
ments of the poorer nations turn more 
nationalistic, competitions and frictions 


агу aggression, highly developed na- 


No matter what cigarette you smoke, most ofthe smoke. 
you smoke is gas. And certain of these gases are harsh. 

That's why we invented the Gas-Trap filter. It actually 
works just like agas mask. This is because, to clean 
smoke, we make our granules from the very same kind of 
amazing charcoal as modern science uses to clean air. 

The result? Our Gas-Trap filter is better at 
reducing certain gases than any Run-Of-The-Mill Filter around. 

So? So you can wear Lark's Gas-Trap filter and look silly 
orsmoke Lark and be smart. 

If you like the taste of gas you'll hate the taste of Lark. 


PLAYBOY 


will develop that may very well lead us 
to war. The earth is running out of some 
the de- 


very critical natural resource 
mand isn't easing, it's increasing: 
many cases, no substitutes аге read 
available 

PLAYBOY: Arc we close to running out of 
such cssential resources as oil and coal? 
EHRLICH: Very close. It’s hard to say 
exactly how much we have left, but some 
ly accurate estimates have been made. 
We may be nearing the end of the 
world's oil reserves, if we continue to 
consume at present rates, within 100 
years. Lead, zinc and tin will probably 
be exhausted by the end of the century. 
Goal will last between 300 1 400 more 
years. Copper, 100. Nickel, 200. All these 
figures are based on the premise that 
consumption rates won't increase—and 
ui litle likelihood of that. The 
United States, which numbers around six 
percent of the world’s population, 
ready uses between 30 and 35 percent of 
the world's resources. 

Unless we decide to level off 
present rate of resource. consumption, 
unless other nations are villing to do the 
same and unless they accept the dispar- 
ity between their portion of the wealth 
of the world and ours, we will run out 
of these critical nonrenewable resources: 
сусп sooner th these estimates: li 
cate. There may be some relief in the 
form of nuclear energy, but it can 
ly replace fossil fuels—coal, oil and 
ural gas—and it's very dangerous. We 
rc facing a serious resource crisis and, as 
world population continues to grow, it 
. Eve 
go to war over scarce re 
"Il have the problem of how 
our societies when those resources. 
exhausted. 

Incidentally, one nonrenewable re- 
source | didn't mention is water. We 
may face a water crisis in this country 

5 soon 1980 because of the 1м 
mands of industry and 
fresh water. And we scem to be do 
our best to make vast 
into something that’s been called 
thick to drink and too thin to plow.” 
PLAYBOY: When you talk about the in- 
ability of the world to support the geo- 
growth of population and the 
оой that resource scarcity will 
cawse war, etc, don't you open yourself 
to the same criticisms that were leveled 
at Thomas Malthus alter he made the 
ne prophecies 175 years ago? Haven't 
his predictions—none of which have 


ү 


our 


will become more and more severe 
if we don't 
sources, wi 
tor 


come tue counted by most 
economists? 
EHRLICH: Robert Heilbroner, who is a 


noted economist, reviewed the book E 
recently co-authored with my wife, 
Population / Resources / Environment, in 
The New York Review of Books. In his 
review, he said that while Malthus over- 
looked the possibility of technological 
advances and was consequently off in his 


predictions, we haven't discounted that 
tor at all. In fact, we know almost 
exactly what technological. advances are 
possible. In the light of these possibili- 
ties, and making the most opt 1с 
sumptions, disaster remains the most 
probable prospect. So Malthus was fun- 
ally right; he just got the 
One important di 


ours is nt was the prin- 
cipal means of birth control then; he 
was justly pessimistic about the efficacy 
of this method. Though there's little 
likelihood that we'll make use of them, 
we have more hopeful alternatives now. 
PLAYBOY: Aren't serious objections to 
some of them, such as the pill, beginning 
to arise? 
EHRUCH: The recent propaganda about 
the pill has caused an unnecessary scare 
about its side effects. Obviously, there 
are risks involved, just as there are with 
any drug; but those risks seem to have 
been exaggerated. People have panicked; 
many women have gone off the р d 
unwanted births will result. We could 
have a much safer pill if it weren't for 
the politicians who are fighting 
abortion reform. With subsidized abor- 
tion throughout the country, we could 
have a pill coni g a much smaller 
dose of hormones but carrying а 1 
risk of pregnancy. Women would doubt 
less accept this risk if they knew they 
could go to a doctor's office and have an 
. There are other risks with 
pill. but for most women, they 
red with the 
benefits. They are certainly small com- 
pared with the risks of pregnancy. Any 
n using the pill, of course, should 
do so only under the supervision of a 
doctor. 


wom 


10 bring an 
the world to live a life of m nd 
contribute to the mental problems of the 
mother. Compulsory birth is as immoral 
ion. The major group 
эп on religious grounds 
tholic Church, but Saint Thomas 
Aquinas thought abortion was perfectly 
acceptable up to the fourth or fifth 
month, the time of quickening; unfortu- 
ely, the Church has since changed its 
view. The moral question results [rom 
confusion over what a human being is. A 
human being is the result of н 
action between а genetic code and а 
physical and cultural environment, par- 
ticularly the cultural environment. А 
fetus isn't a human being, it's а potential 
human being. Religious objectors are 
confusing the blueprints for a building 
with the building itself. If people arc 
concerned about those blueprints and the 
death. of the cells containing them, then 


they ought to stop brushing their teeth, 
because every time they do, they destroy 
cells that contain blueprints for human. 
beings. Religious objections are based on 
ignorance, but I don't think we should 
force anyone who has religious objections 
to havc an abortion, Women should be 
free cither to have an abortion or to carry 
the child if they wish 

PLAYSOY: What changes do you 

should be made in our abortion laws? 
affluent wom 
able to 
for some time. Restrictive abortion laws 
simply deny clean, safe abortions to poor 
people. These laws should be removed 
from the books and subsidized abortions 
should be made available to all women 
who desire them. A doctor must be re- 
quired to give an abortion 10 
who requests it, or at least to refer the 
woman to а doctor who will, if his own 
morals are against it. Unless it’s unsafe 


feel 


an abortion any time they 


If abortions were freely avail- 
the United States, would the 
Шу reduced? 


able in 
number of births be subst. 
EHRLICH: There would be fewer births, 


the reduction isn't 
e such a very high 
ions. We aren't really 


but the extent of 


clear, because we h 
level of illegal abor 
sur 


how 


Growth and 
groups will probably put enough 
pressure on politicians 10 get our abor- 
tion laws reformed in the next five years 
or so. That's one of the areas where I'm 
relatively optimistic. 

PLAYBOY: Do you agree with those who 
feel that the women's liberation move 
ment could be an cllective force in cam- 
paigning to lower the birth rate? 
EHRLICH: A great deal can be said for 
improving the condition of women in this 
country and for openin iti 
to them as a way of helping control the 
population. Other countries might use 
similar programs to lower the number of 
births. We must give women better op- 
portunities and set up health centers 
t nclude child care, so that women 
can be freed from taking care of thei 
children to go out and work. In the 
United States, of course, the ude 
persists that а woman's role is that of 
homemaker, shepherding a large num 
ber of children. Women are clearly de- 
nied equal rights in this country in 
many, m 
age them to join the professions 
look on themselves as having many roles 
besides motherhood. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think men should 
shoulder more of the responsibility for 
birth control? 

EHRLICH: I do, indeed. The medical pro- 
fession, by almost banning women from 
its ranks, has had seye view of 
reproduction. The way some doctors 


nd to 


ITCAN'T HAPPEN HERE! 


OR CAN IT? 


in Germany they first came for the Communists and! didn’t speak 
up because I wasn't a Communist. Then they came for the Jews, and 
1 didn’t speak up because 1 wasn't a Jew. Then they came for the 
trade unionists, and I didn't speak up because I wasn't a trade 
unionist. Then they came for the Catholics, and 1 didn't speak up 
because ! was a Protestant. Then they came for me—and by that 
time no one was left to speak up." 


a 


For 50years, the American Civil Liberties Union has had as its 
sole purpose the preservation and strengthening of the Iree- 
doms guaranteed under the Bill of Rights: Iree speech, free 
press, free assemblage and other civil rights. ACLU delends. 
these rights lor all Americans. 


Now, ACLU needs your support: moral ard finan 
We need you. So we'll be ready if 


SOTH ANNIVERSARY 
ANERICAN CIVIL LIBERTIES UNION 


156 FIFTH AVENUE. ROOM 621 H 
NEW YORK, NEW YORK 10010 1 
1 
Here is ту contribution ol. —— to improve the condition ot cur 
Webcam ACLU s Som year 
Notons e 
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61 


PLAYBOY 


62 


talk, you would think men had nothing 
whatsoever to do with reproduction. One 
way а man сап take some responsibili 
is by having a vasectomy after he 
wife have had their children. Speaking 
from personal experience and the testi 
mony of friends who have had vasecto- 
mies, I would highly recommen 
effect on one's sex life is positive. It el 
ies about contraceptic 

no physiological influence on sc 
or performance. Anybody who un- 
derstands the procedure and isn't being 
forced into it by his wife or girlfriend is 
likely to exper itive psychologi- 
cal effect and improv 
If it became neces: 
ment to impose bi 
would there be any es to (d 
kind of surgery? Some authorities have 
alked about ng anti-fertility chemi- 
cals to water suppl 
EHRLICH: І don't foresee 


nates woi 


ry for the 
th control, 


y satisfactory 


technology for such indiscriminate mass- 
administered vernment birth-control 


programs, at least not i 
with the present crisis. P 
effects, uniform adm h 
those for whom such controls 
imended—children and the elderly, for 
example—are simply too severe for a 
rapid solution to the technological prob- 
Jems. And, of course, the problem of 
social acceptance would be even more 
difficult. On d. it might be 
ed as mass involuntary medication, 
ти some people consider thar im 


c to help 


onc h 


ion growth. The: 
ty of precedent for mass administra- 
ion of medicine in the name of public 
alth—smillpox vaccination and fluo 
ion of water supplies, for example. 
Bur I feel we dy have more than 
enough bureaucratic intervention in our 
| control our 
ion by strictly volum me 
If the Government inaugurates the prop- 
er programs of persuasion and the people 
respond strongly enough, it’s possible that 


welll be able to control our populatioi 
If we don't. compulsory Government 
control of births is m 
Effective volumary binh control of 


course, will depend on dramatic changes 
in people's attitudes on the number of 
children they want. 1 don't think that 
very many people, particularly in the 
underdeveloped countries, will be per- 
suaded to limit the size of their. fa 


terest, or wh 


they think is self 
est. Tt has always been very difficult 
to get anybody to do anything for future 
generations. “What the hell did posterity 
ever do for me? eral attitude. 

PLAYBOY: Some minority leaders have 
charged that birth contol is simply an 
elaborate program of genocide to be 
imposed on their races. Is a birth-control 


lc without the participa- 
d other minorities? 

Minority groups very wisely 
detect an element of genocide in the talk 
of many people who discuss population 
control. All too many people say. “There 
аге too many black and chicano babies,” 
which is nonsense. The most serious pop- 
ulation growth is among affluent whites, 
because they are the heavy polluters 
consumers. The blacks and the chicanos 
and the American Indians tend to be the 
victims of pollution rather than the 
cause of it; they have very little chance 
to consume. Anybody who wor bout 
too many black, brown or red babies has 
a very simple device available to make 
the black, brown and red birth rates 
identical to the white birth rate. АП 
y is for everyone in the 
ty to have the same economic, so- 
cial and educational opportunities. Then 
the reproductive performance of the 
various. raci be the same. 
at home and 
whites will have to start cutting their 
own population growth—which is the 
most serious in the world—before they 
can say anything about what other people 
of other races, whom the whites а 
tromping on, ought to do. We're аһ 
hearing from black-power gro 
iuc. The way to delu 


it a black problem. 
Iso avoid what 


We must уро! 
cians arc trying to do now, particularly 
in the Nixon. Administration—deflecting 
public concern from racism and the war 
to the environmental. crisis, as il they 
were separate problems. But the race 
problem and the war—which is inciner 
ating a large chunk of the world—are 
inextricably tied in with the popu 
-environment issue, 

ven il you could make the 
public understand the di sions and 
mplications of the population problem 
nd persuade people to immediately re- 
duce the th 
family, wouldn't there be a dangerously 
long time lag before nticeable 
effects took place? 
EHRLICH: If we had а m 
body in the world decided tod 
а maximum of two children, we would 
still have rapid population growth Lor at 
least the next 30 years. Thirty-seven per- 
cent of the world’s people аге under 
and those young people are going to 
have «итеп ndchildren before 
they move from the 010-15 age group 
to the 50ло-85 age group and start dyi 
of old Unless w п 
increase in the death rare—which I think 
we will have—we will face a long period 
tion growth even with а dras- 
of the birth rate. That's 
one reason biologists are so pessimistic 
about whether we can save ourselves. 
PLAYBOY: Haven't there been radical ad- 


ion- 


resource 


nd 


t will make it 
needs of 


vances in agriculture t 
possible to meet the nut 
this expanding population? 

EHRUCH: "That's the famous “green revo. 
lution.” The best way to evaluate the 
wildly optimistic claims of its proponents 
is to refer to Time magazine, November 
cighth, 1948, which reported that the 
lists expected in 12 years—by 
1960—to be able to feed everybody in 
the world without amy problem. Al 
though some pcople thought there would 
be two and a quarter billion people by 
1060. Time said other experts believed 
this was an overestimate. Well. in 1960, 
there were three bill 
agricultural experts weren't feeding half 
them. My reply to the prophets of agri 
cultui is: When you c 
quately feed the 3.6 billion people we 
have now 


the year 2000. Until you сап do that, why 
don't you just shut up and get back to 
work? 
PLAYBOY: Some economists have said 1 
dia and other underdeveloped nation: 
once they learn to master new agricul- 
tural techniques, will achieve economic 
self-sufficiency. Doesn't this contradict 
your dismissal of thi 
EHRLICH: Not a bit 
world’s food were divided evenly, there 
would be e sulliciency of сай 
not of protein. Everyone would 
malnutrition. The agriculturalists? 
Чоп is to plant more high yield 
grains, the foundation of the grec 
Turion. But there are a number of impor- 
things to re bout high 
ops. In order to grow them and benefit 
from them, fertilizer has to be manufac- 
t па transported, so there i 
quirement for extensive n 
trucks and roads. Tractors amd other 
farm machines that burn petroleum fuels 
also have to be used. Water requirements 
for high-yield crops are very 
irrigation also is mandatory, thus 
fering with the ecology of water. basins. 
ld grains have often lost one 
^ their 
e. They pro 
e Large 


but 


revo. 


development—pest resist 
duce fr 
ti 
serious ecological effects 
sult in pesticide-resisiant pests that do 
even more di than unsprayed pests 


cale 


because the predators that ordinarily cat 
them have succumbed (0 the pesticides. 
The green revolution wouldn't be eco 


Шу sound even if it could meet the 
eds of the world's popul: 
which it can't. The points to ri 
are 

nothing and that you never win totally 
A perfect example is the Irish potato 
famine. That followed a green revolution 
There were 2,000,000 I i 


mber 
ar you don't get something [or 


Y 
y 


zZ 
O 
2 


3 
T 


FAC pla 


| m THE STARS DROP I 


And they come delightfully determined to шт Hugh 
Hefner's penthouse parties into rollicking respites 
from the standard evening TV fare. Robert Goulet, 
^ Johnny Mathis and Edie Adams, for example, stand 
ready to sing at the rattle of an ice cube. And i 

"ue Steppenwolf, The Modern Jazz Quartet, Canned 
2 Heat and Les McCann, Ltd., fill the air with music, 
a cool and hot. While impressionist Rich Little pro- 
vides a complete cast of characters and Academy 
Award winner Gig Young talks about film making, 


у 2 comedians Don Adams, Milton Berle and Tom Р. 
- Smothers offer their high art of hilarity. And an eye- ` 
* 
4 


opening array of beautiful girls complete the master П 
mixture of mirth, music and glamor. Every week. On 


E PLAYBOY AFTER DARK. p ex 
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PLAYBOY AFTER DARK in fll color on: WORTY, New York) KTLA-TV, Los Angeles, WELD:TV, Chicago, WPHL-TV, Philadelphia 
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wic! WTS -TV, Pu co. 


PLAYBOY 


64 


misery in Ireland. Then they had a 
green revolution; the potato was in 
troduced. The Trish planted a huge 
monoculture of potatoes, an ecologically 
stupid thing to do, since monocultures 
are simple and, therefore, vulnerable sys- 
tems. Then, in the middle of the last 
century, along came the potato blight, 
which killed the potatoes. By that time, 
the Irish had bred up to 8,000,000 
people on this huge supply of potatoes. 
When the blight hit, about 1,000,000 
Irishmen starved and 2,000,000 emigrat- 
ed. Had there been no place for them to 
go. 3,000,000 people would have starved 
because a green revolution was intro- 
duced to 2,000,000 people. 

Today, of course, we don’t have any 
place to go, and there are already new 
famines building. When the number of 
people starving annually is measured in 
the millions, that's famine. We have to stop 
looking around for some quixotic tech- 
nological or agricultural panacea and face 
the problem: too damn many people. Buc 
even if there are fantastic successes with 
population control, even if everybody de- 
cides tomorrow that they're going to have 
small families and the average around the 
world drops instantly to 23 children — 
which would be a miracle— population 
growth and associated extreme environ- 
mental stresses will continue into the 
next century. 

PLAYBOY. Why? 

EHRLICH: The world population is so 
young that even if mot another baby 
were born, present food requirements 
would continue to increase over the next 
decade, because those now under 
make increased demands on the food 
supply and on the rest of the resources 
af the world as they grow older. 

PLAYBOY: If the green revolution won't 
feed them, could we meet part of this 
need by farming the sea? 

EHRLICH: There is a great deal of— 
bullshit, I think, is the correct. term— 
pped resources of the жа 
how we'll be able to farm them. 
Well. biologists have very carefully meas. 
ured the resources of the sca, and the 
maximum annual yield we can get—if 
we do cverything right—is between 
100,000,000 and 150,000,000 metric tons. 
This means that if our population con- 
tinues to grow at present rates and dou- 
bles in the next 30 years, as it's expected. 
to, and if the 100.000,000-metric-ton yield 
is ieved, there will be less fish per 
person than there is now. And that’s if 
we do everything right. At the moment, 
we're not doing anything right. 

PLAYBOY: What about synthetic or manu- 
factured food? 

EHRLICH: To produce food synthetically 

1 the sense of just taking carbon 
gen, hydrogen, nitrogen and making the 
molecules, the ds would be 
colossal if we knew how to do it, which 
we don't. 


nergy de 


PLAYBOY: Is there anything we can do to 
case the food problem? 

EHRLICH: If the goal is more food for the 
people of the world, and the necessary 
money and effort are advanced toward it, 
there are all kinds of ccologically safe 
measures that could be employed and 
that would help. The most helpful step 
would probably be the use of our tech- 
nology to cut into the very serious losses 
that occur between the harvest and the 
dinner table. There are tremendous 
losses to rats, insects, mold, mildew, and 
so on. A program aimed at cutting these 
losses would be much more sensible than 
tying to grow edible algac on sewage, 
which is one of the more appetizing solu- 
tons that have bcen suggested. The 
people who push such programs, of 
course, are never going to be the eater 
they'll shovel it out to the rest of us and 
say. "Bon appetit 
PLAYBOY: Many cm 
say that even if we sensibly limit and 
adequately feed our population in the 
U. S., we'll still be headed for ecological 
disaster. Do you think your emphasis on 
population may be wrong for the U.S? 
Aren't some of the consequences of pol- 
tution a more immediate threat? 

EHRLICH: І wrote a book called The Pop- 
ulation Bomb because I thought too 
many people were emphasizing only pol- 
lution, Fm mot in any way uying to 
minimize the problem of pollution. At 
the moment, it is at least as serious as, 
or possibly more serious in the United 
States than our population growth. It's 
perfectly clear that il we moved our 
population down to 50,000,000 and con- 
unued to use DDT as we аге now, we 
could destroy the entire planet, But it's 
also perfectly clear that no matter how 
small we make our per-capita impact on 
the environment, everybody in a techno- 
logical or agricultural society hı 


tive impact. If we take the problem from 
the pollution end and try to reduce the 


impact of cach person, its obviously 
going 10 be necessary to reduce it less 
drastically if there are fewer people. Los 
Angeles is a perfect example. It’s had a 
continuous decrease in per-capita pollu- 
tion for several years but a continuous 
increase in the number of people, so 
it hasn't made any progress. It's pointless 
to argue whether it's pollution or popu- 
lation; it’s the interaction of the two, 
and the only intelligent approach is to 
attack both simultaneously 

PLAYBOY: Power consumption is one of 
the worst causes of pollution in this 
country. How serious a threat is i? 
EHRLICH: Very serious, because there is 
no ecologically “safe” method of produc- 
ing and using power. Even if electricity 
generation weren't dependent on the 
burning of fossil fuels that emit deadly 
chemi ad particulare. pollution 
the ай, power plants would create 
gerous thermal  pollutioi use 


power creates he n the brakes 
down on your car and you turn the 
inctic energy of the car into heat energy: 
everything you do creates heat. The 
problem is that there is а very severe 
limit to the amount of powergenerared 
heat t the carth can sustain. If the 
temperature of an organism's habitat— 
air or water—is raised above a certai 
level, that organism will dic. Heated 
waste from nuclear power plants has 
already destroyed the fish populations of 
rivers where it has been dumped. 
But power generation creates not just 
heat and air pollution but also other 
serious ecological problems. Damming 
rivers to produce hydroelectric power, 
for cxample, not only interferes with the 
ecology of the watersheds, it can even 
cause earthquakes. But despite all these 
grim facts, power use in the United 
States is doubling every decade. At this 
rate of growth, in 200 years, the entire 
surface of the United States will have to 
be nothing but power plants. There 
won't be room for anything elsc—includ- 
ing the people for whom the power is 
intended. 
PLAYBOY: Nuclear powcr plants produce 
radioactive as well as thermal pollution. 
What is done with the radi е? 
EHRLICH: А lot of it is buried deep in 
the earth, and this is something that 
people are justifiably worried about. A 
tremendous amount of all the red-hot 
waste that we plam to dump into salt 
mines could get out into the environ- 
ment and cause an epidemic of 
poisoning that would either kill immedi- 
ately or lead to cancer, still nd 
horrible genetic deformities. Remember 
that to be safe, we must contain these 
wastes for thousands of years. Another 
problem is that with the number of 
plants the Atomic Energy Commission is 
talking about, there'll be so many hot 
trucks and trains in transit to the salt 
mines that there'll be a Gemendous da 
ger of accident in the process of moving 
the waste. Even if that's done success- 
fully, we can't build a 100 percent clean 
powergeneration system, so there will 
be continuous low-level emission from the 
fission plants. The amou: ll be 
small, but any release of rad ity is 
biologically bad, and the total of these 
small emissions could be disastrous. Some 
physicists at the Lawrence Radi 
Lab, which is fundamentally an 
backed facility at the University of Cali- 
fornia, have recently claimed that the 
AEC's permissible radiation standards 
are about ten times too high. Finally, 
with nuclear plants, there is always the 
possibility of an explosion—a small atom 
bomb, in effect. In 1966, there was an 
accident at the Fermi plant ouside De 
oit that just missed being such a disis 
ter and killing millions with radiation 
My approach to the power problem i 


ictive w: 


chs 


nct to build more and more nuclear 
power plants; it's to stop wasting so 
much of the power we produce now. Our 
aluminum industry, for example, is ап ex- 
traordinarily large user of power. It con- 
sumes something like ten percent of the 
industrial power used in this country, and 
a fantastic amount of that is used to make 
1s—another environmental pollutant 
For many excellent reasons, including 
this one, we might have to give up 
aluminum cans. Small loss. We might 
Iso have to turn off all advertising signs 
by law at midnight; that might be a 
blessing, too. We also have too many 
home appliances that are very inefficient, 
but the power companies send ads along 
with their bills urging us to buy another. 
elecuic comb. Then the power-company 
officials say, "We're in a race for our 
lives to kecp up with this power de- 
mand; to meet it, we'll have to flood 
Tarmland and build morc nuclcar power 
plants.” It's a demand they have largely 
created. In western Europe, where 
people lead very pleasant lives, there is 
half the per-capita power consumption of 
the U.S. 

PLAYBOY: The dangers from hydroelectric 
and nuclear power production aren't as 
visible—or as tangible—as those from 
fossil-fucl-burning plants that emit tons 
over our 
ngers of 
ir pollution such plants causc? 
EHRLICH: The danger is that it's lethal. 
Automobiles, various paper and pulp 
mills, chemical plants, refineries, other 
industries and trash incinerators spew 
millions of tons of deadly pollutants 
the air annually. Carbon monoxide— 
about 70,000,000 tons a year—kills by suf- 
focation when the level is high enough. 
In severe traffic jams, where a number of 
cars are idling for long periods of time, 
drivers begin to experience symptoms of 
le poisoning: headache, 
usea, abdominal pain. 
Death extreme cases. 
Sulphur oxides—about 14,000,000 tons 
amnually—tums into sulphuric acid in 
the lungs. It is certainly one of the main 
causes of the increase in emphysema, 
bronchitis and other respiratory disease: 
among people exposed to severe air 
pollution. And hydrocarbons—about 
5,000,000 tons annually—are almost cer- 
ainly carcinogenic. 

In most cases, air pollution Kills slowly, 
by causing debilitating ^s that с: 
be directly traced. to the pollution. be- 
cause of the diversity of pollutants, the 
existence of other factors and the vary- 
ing degrees of exposure by the victims. 
But certain comparisons of respiratory- 
disease frequency in heavysmog and 
smogfree areas indicate preuy clearly 
that air pollution is a killer. Sometimes, 
ientific study isn't even necessary. Ii 
the cise of severe inversions—a layer of 
warm air overlying a layer of cool air, 


to 


could occur in 


thus trapping the pollution under it— 
people have died in huge numbers sim- 
ply because of the smog. The worst such 
disaster occurred in London in 1952, 
when approximately 4000 people died as 
a result of a four-day smog. Similar disas- 
ters are likely to occur in citics such as 
Los Angeles if pollution isn’t curtailed. 
PLAYBOY: The most significant air pollut- 
er is probably the automobile. What can 
we do to eliminate the ecological Ш- 
effects of our transportation system? 
EHRLICH: Short of a mass switch from 
tars to bikes, we could do much better 
than we do with fewer and smaller cars, 
relatively low-pollution engines, more 
mass t it—which is ecologically and. 
economically superior to private automo- 
biles—and an efficient air-transport. sys- 
tem. Anyone who flies much knows there 
are a lot of empty seats and duplicate 
flights. Obviously, in some places it will 
be a very difficult transition. Los Angeles 
was designed for the automobile. In fact, 
we've been designing the whole country 
not for people but for automobiles. So 
it’s going to be a serious problem con- 
verting to mass transit, but it surely can 
be done and the simple first step is a 
Jaw banning large cars and allocating tax 
funds to buy back old cars and recycle 
them. With smaller cars, we create more 
space for other са king is easier, 
less smog is created and far less of our 
petroleum resources is consumed. If 
aluminum instead 
ing, and so on, they 
could be very easily recycled. It's copper 
makes melted-down automobiles un- 
desirable scrap. So there are all kinds of 
gs that could be done immediately to 
prove the transit system and reduce its 
ct on the environment. 
Is there any validity to the 
that building smaller cars 


pa 


argument 
would mean simply that more people 
would be able to buy more cars? 

EHRLICH: Yes. Probably the way out would 


be to require that the maximum number 
of cars would be one fourseater per fam- 
ily. Until we can make people aware of 
their own contributions to the environ- 
mental crisis, such rationing may have to 
be imposed. But nobody will greatly sul 
fer because he’s limited to one automo- 
bile. That's not an unbearable sac 
t about steam and electric 
ca y Feasible? 

EHRUCH: They would probably be very 
expensive; but there are many things 
should be considered “feasible 
[ cars cost five times as much as 
they do now, because there's nothing less 
"feasible" than dying. The thing to re- 
member about electric cars, howeve is 
that they, too, end up creating pollution. 
Somebody said it would take virtually the 
entire power capacity of the country to 
recharge the country's cars. 
PLAYBOY: Do you see any plausibility in 
Henry Ford's promise of a pollution-free 
internal-combustion engine? 


се. 


EHRLICH: By definition, that's impossible. 
A deaner one is unquestionably possible, 
though we may find that we can get rid 
of nitrogen oxides only by increasing 
hydrocarbons. But even if an automobile 
engine could burn a hydrocarbon com- 
pletely, the end products would be car- 
bon dioxide and water vapor, both of 
which are pollutants—not as serious pol- 
lutants as some of the others, but they 
have an effect on the climate of the 
planet that could be very dangerous. 

PLAYBOY: Would it be possible—and 
helpful—for the oil compa 
adding lead to gasoline? 

EHRLICH: Of course, and it would be a 
tremendous contribution. Lead is a pol- 
lutant not unlike DDT, which сопс 
trates in food and is a deadly роо 
"There's some evidence that the decline 
of the Roman civilization was in no 
small part due to lead poisoning. Scien- 
tists have gone back and checked the 
Ісай content in bones of upper-class Ro- 
mans, and it’s enough to indicate that 
they had serious lead-poisoning prob- 
lems. They drank their diss out of lead 
containers—ironically, to avoid the taste 
of copper. So it would be wise for the 
oil companies to stop adding lead to 


gasoline; we don’t drink it, but we 
breathe the fumes, which are almost as 
deadly. 


We must make sure, however, that the 
petroleum people don’t substitute some- 
thing even more deadly than lead, like 
nickel compounds, This is exactly wha 
happened when soft pesticides were sub- 
stituted for DDT. They break down 
fairly easily into harmless compounds, 
but they tend to be much more N 
than DDT before that process 
place. You could eat a teaspoonful of 
DDT, but if you put a single drop of 
parathion, a soft pesticide, on your skin, 
you're dead. It's from a family of pesti- 
cides that are derivatives of Germ 
nerve gases developed during World 
War Two. With these chemicals, the 
protection of farm workers becomes a 
severe problem. We must make sure t 
the oil companies don't substitute some- 
thing equally dangerous for lead. 
PLAYBOY: Unthink usc of chemicals 


seems to be commonplace today. Just 
how widespr 
EHRLICH: Unthinking use of chemicals is 


the rule today, and it 
armers, for e: 
ged to ince: 


sa dangerous rule. 
ample, have been encour- 
production by relying 
rogen fertilizers, 
se when such artificial 
ed into the enviroi 


As is usually the 
factors are introdu 
ment, the results have been bad as well 


good. The good effects of nitrates 
were immediately obvious. Long soil- 
building processes involving decay of о 
ganic matter, building of humus and 
inogen fixing by certain crops were 
shortcut in a single planting season as 
farmers used the inorganic fertilizers and 
reaped high yields. But, as always, 


65 


PLAYBOY 


66 


wasn't quite that simple. When the nor- 
mal soil-building processes were avoided, 
organic soil nitrogen was lost and the 
earth became so compacted that root 
systems had difficulty absorbing nutrients. 
"This resulted in ever larger requirements 
for synthetic fertilizers; their usc has 
increased 12 times in 25 years. 

Dr. Barry Commoner has said that 
farmers are “hooked on nitrates like a 
junkie is hooked on heroin. 
of this addiction is increased 
tion, for a great deal of the fertilizer 
that’s added to farmlands runs off the 
surface of the land and into lakes and 
rivers. In the absence of proper soil- 
ing practices, farmlands in (t 
country have lost around 50 percent of 
their original organic nitrogen. Com- 
moner says that in 25 to 50 years, the 
fertility of the soil will be so low that 
the ultimate food crisis will occur unless 
inorganic nutrients are used to a degree 
that would cause an insoluble water- 
pollution problem. 

Animal manure, on the other hand, is 
a soil builder. If we stopped treating the 
waste from animals as something to be 
disposed of—a pollutant—and used it, 
instead, as a fertilizer and. soil builder, 
we'd be a long way toward solving one 
of our most critical pollution problems. 
Building soil this way, of course, is 
a long. tedious process, and it may cost 
more than the present system of garbage 
disposal and chemical fertilization; but 
the country will save in the long run—in 
human as well as natural resources. It's 
always cheaper to clean it up now, at 
the source, than to let pollution contin- 
ue to run wild and then scrape it out of 
our lungs ten years from now—if it 
hasn't killed us by then. 

We'll want to continue, of course, to 
use those high-powered chemical fertiliz- 
ers and pesticides in certain circum 
stances. But we're going to have to do it 
very cautiously, knowing what we're 
doing. Right now, pesticide use is en- 
couraged whether bugs are present or 
not. Farmers are trained to spray on a 
frequent schedule. Thats the kind of 
thing that has to stop. It will cost а lot 
and it will cause dislocation, but we have 
to do it. If we keep plundering the land 
until it’s no longer capable of yielding 
food—and we're well on the way— 
there'll be no place left to go. 

PLAYBOY: Some nonagricultural lands— 
such as the marshes along the New Jer- 
sey coast—haye been allowed to become 
polluted because people seem to feel 
that the effects мете merely unaesthetic. 
Should we be concerned about any eco- 
logical consequences of the pollution of 
such land? 

EHRLICH: The land you're talking about 
is ecologically as well as aesthetically 
valuable. An estimate has been made 
that somewhere around a quarter of all 
of our fisheries’ production from the 
oceans is dependent on estuaries. And 


the vast majority of oceanic fisheries’ pro- 
duction comes from shallow waters close 
to shore. When we muck around with 
our marshes and estuaries, when the 
Army Corps of Engineers bulldozes 
them, when cities use them for garbage 
fills and nuclcar powcr plants dump hot 
water into them and raise their tempera- 
ture beyond the tolerance level of many 
organisms, there's a fantastically destruc- 
tive effect on the shallow-water produ 
tion of young fish. So that as we foul 
our shores—whether marshy or not—we 
simultancously endanger the ocean, and 
we can't afford to do that. When explor- 
er Thor Heyerdahl made his first at- 
tempt to cross the Atlantic by papyrus 
raft, he found extensive surface pollu 
tion most of the way across—so severe, 
fact, that in some places, his crew 
couldn't even rinse their dishes and 
utensils in the sea water. 

PLAYBOY: Dr. LaMont Cole of Cornell 
says we may alrcady have destroyed the 
sea with the amount of DDT that has 
been used on land and will eventually run 
off into the ocean: 

EHRLICH: That may very well be. The 
situation with the oceans is very critical 
and very complicated. DDT doesn’t 
break down easily. As it’s sprayed on 
crops, runs off into watersheds and сусп- 
tually makes its way into the oceans, it 
retains its toxicity. In fact, it's probably 
less than 50 percent broken down ten 
years after spraying. As we continue to 
spray the land, DDT continues to build 
up in the oceans, because what is already 
there isn’t breaking down. But unless 
something in the nature of a catastrophic 
accident occurs—say an oil-tanker spill or 
deliberate poisoning—the oceans probably 
won't die overnight. Rather, their ecolo- 
gy will be slowly altered. As the level of 
DDT and other chlorinated hydrocar- 
bons increases in the seas, certain critical 
organisms will cither build up a resist- 
ance to these pesticides or be killed. The 
primary oceanic food source is phyto- 
plankton, microscopic green plants that 
produce about 70 percent of the world's 
oxygen. If the phytoplankton are killed, 
mitrine photosynthesis will cease and all 
sca life will dic. 

But the effects of DDT on the oceans 
don't have to be this dr to be devas- 
tating to the ecology of the planet. Pesti- 
cides may simply retard the growth of 
some species of phytoplankton and re- 
sult in huge blooms of others. Some of 
the DDT-resistant strains may be unsatis- 
factory as food [or осеа 
This would eliminate the food supplies 
of many oceanic species of fish. Certainly, 
as more and more DDT appears in the 
oceans, it will become concentrated in 
marine life and will more frequently 
reach levels that would be dangerous for 
human consumption. By the same process 
of concentration, DDT in mother’s milk 
has reached levels that often exceed 
health standards for dairy milk. 


Some radioactive wastes tend to be 
concentrated, too. The Atomic Energy 
Commission once dumped nuclear wastes 
into a river in the South, thinking that 
the amount wasn't serious and that it 
would be dispersed in the environment. 
When the AEC monitored the water 
downstream, it found radioactivity levels 
reassuringly low. But then someone 
pointed out that the oysters near the 
ver's mouth were glowing in the dark. 
‘That's a pretty deadly form of water pol- 
lution. It’s not only revolting but dis- 
turbing to consider that many smaller 
bodies of water—rivers, streams and lakes 
—in this country have been little more 
than cesspools for years. The Cuyahoga 
River, which flows into Lake Eri 
once a clear trout stream; today, it's so 
laden with pollutants that it periodically 
catches fire. 

PLAYBOY: What cloes most of our water 
pollution consist of? Sewage? Fertilizer? 
Industrial waste? 


was 


EHRLICH: Л large amount of it is sewage, 
both animal and human. Fertilizer тип 
off, phosphates from detergents, animal 


manure, nitrates from inorganic fertiliza- 
tion, human waste and a tremendous 
variety of chemicals of one sort or anoth- 
er. Industrial chemicals. Pesticides. Mer- 
any, which is extremely dangerous, was 
recently found in Lake Eric. There's 
lead, too, which takes the form of fallout 
from automobile engines. A lot of air 
pollution turns into water pollution; it 
comes down with the rain. 
PLAYBOY: Can anything be done to save 
or revive a body of water as thoroughly 
polluted as Lake Erie? 
EHRLICH: It's difficult. This is a problem 
Thave no particular expertise in, but the 
general estimates are that it will take 
one hell of а long time to purify a 
shallow lake like Evie. Even if we stop 
pouring wastes into it, there is such a 
build-up of crap on the lake bottom that 
it would take a thorough flushing over 
ny years—perhaps hundreds of ycars 
—to restore it to its natural state. It's 
very easy to wreck these ecosystems, but 
it's hell to rebuild them again. And some 
of our lakes and rivers may be beyond 
salvation. 
PLAYBOY; Several environmentalists have 
charged that President Nixon's program 
for control of water pollution will result 
simply in breaking down raw sewage 
to its inorganic components, which act 
as a fertilizer and result in the continued 
pollution of our waterways. Is that true? 
EHRLICH: Yes. At a teachin at North- 
University [reported last month 
in Assistant Editor Geoflrey Norman's 
Project Survival] just after Nixon's State 
of the Union Address, the first five 
icked his add orously, 
and several made precisely this point. 
Not one word of that, to my knowledg 
got out over the network news. This 
(continued on page 150) 


ss 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


At work or at play, challenge is the name of his game. He knows what's worth doing is worth doing 
right. And he has the confidence to prove it, whether making a putt or a business point. Facts: 
PLAYBOY delivers 41 percent of all U. S. men 18-34 in professional-managerial occupations; two 
of every five earning $15,000 or morea year; nearly two thirds in the $25,000-plus bracket. Address 
this manin PLAYBOY. The only medium that takes you straight to his green.(Source: 1970 Simmons.) 


New York - Chicago - Detroit - Los Angeles · San Francisco - Atlanta • London + Tokyo 


fiction By MARY McCARTHY 


he was an american in paris, 


a guest of france, 
but when he saw students 


being beaten by the flics. 
he had to get involved 


A SMALL DEATH IN THE RUE DE RENNES 


PETER WAS TAKING His PLANT for a walk. This morning the sun was out, for a change, and he had no classes. He 
carried it, swaying, in its pot down the flight of steps, his private companionway, that led from the Rue Monsicur 
le Prince to the Rue Antoine Dubois—a mews populated by cats where Brigitte Bardot had lived in La Vérité. 
He was a past master of short cuts as well as circuitous ways; though he had not yet traveled by sewer, he liked to 
pretend that some implacable Javert was trailing him. He came out onto the Boulevard St. Germain, greeted the 
statue of Danton and stopped to look in the windows of the bookshops selling medical textbooks, colored anatomi- 
cal charts and dangling cardboard skeletons. 

This uninviting merchandise exercised a gruesome attraction on Peter, who, if he could believe his family, 
was a known hypochondriac. The quarter where he had elected to live was dominated by the dark carcass of the 
old Ecole de Médecine, around which, like suckers, had sprung up a commerce in surgical equipment, wheel- 
chairs, orthopedic pulleys, sputum basins, artificial limbs, as well as these bookstores containing yellowing weatises 
on eyery disease he could imagine himself catching, including le grand mal. The main School of Medicine had 
moved to a modern building on the Rue Jacob, which was why he seldom saw students around here—only an oc- 
casional browser leafing through dusty textbooks; it was as if his whole neighborhood had been put up in form- 
aldehyde, like gallstones or those crusty corns and giant bunions he sometimes studied in the halfcurtained 
window of a corncutter over near the Carréfour du Bac. 

At the traffic light, he decided to turn up the Rue de Seine and continue on into the Rue de Tournon, his 
favorite street, and walk on the sunny side; there were too many hurrying pedestrians on the Boulevard St. Ger- 
main, making it hard for him to clear a path for the tall plant with its crowning glory of pale new leaves unfurling 
like little umbrellas. It was a member of the ivy family, as you could tell from its name—Fatshedera—although, 
unlike the English clan, it did not стеер or clamber but stood upright. He had bought it at Les Halles on a Friday 
afternoon; at five o'clock, the public was let into the weekly potted-plant market, after the florists had made their 
selections. It pleased him that in Paris there was a “day” for every kind of thing, as in the first chapter of Genesis: 
Friday at Les Halles for potted plants and Tuesday for cut flowers; Sunday morning, on the Quai aux Fleurs, for 
birds; there was even a dog market somewhere on Wednesday. The Parisian apportionment of the week made him 
think of Italy, where articles of consumption were grouped, amusingly, into families resembling riddles, as, for ex- 
ample, the family that included salt, matches, stamps and tobacco (bought at the tabacchaio) or the chicken fam- 
ily that included eggs, rabbits and mushroom her liked to remember a store in Rome that carried pork in 
the winter and straw hats in the summer. 

The plantseller had warned Peter that the Fatshedera did not like too much light—which should have made 
it an ideal tenant for his apartment. But after a month's residence there, looking out on the air shaft, it had grown 
Jong, leggy and despondent, like its master. Its growth was all tending upward, to the crown, like that of trees in 
the jungle. The leaves at the base were falling off, one by one, and though Peter had been carefully irritating the 
stem at the base to promote new sideward growth, it had been ignoring this prodding on his part and just kept 
getting taller, weedlike, till he had finally had this idea of taking it for walks, once or twice a week, depending on 
the weather, It did not seem to mind drafts, and the outdoor temperature on a sunny day in late November was not 
appreciably colder than the indoor temperature chez him. He thought he was beginning to note signs of 


69 


PLAYBOY 


70 


gratitude in the invalid for the trouble he 
was taking; a little bump near the base 
where he had been poking h his 
knife seemed about to produce a stalk or 
pedicel, and there was a detectable re- 
turn of chlorophyll, like a green flush to 
the cheeks of the shut-in. He spoke to it 
persuasively—sometimes out loud—urg- 
ing it to grow. So far, he had resisted 
giving it a shot of fertilizer, because a 
mildewed American manual he had ас- 
quired on the quais—How to Care for 
Your House Planis—cautioned against 
giving fertilizer except to “healthy sub- 
jects.” That would be like giving a gour- 
met dinner to a starving person—the old 
ble of the tales 


How to Gare for Your House Plants 


was full of housewifely pointers that ap- 
pealed to his frugality. like the column 
he used to enjoy in the Rocky Port 
weekly Sentinel where readers exchanged 
recipes for removing berry stains from 
clothing and keeping squirrels out of the 
bird-feeding tray. He wondered what 
dull adventures it had had before com- 
ng to lodge on his bookshelf; Had it 
traveled from Montclair to Stuttgart to 
^háteauroux in the trunk of some Army 
wile, along with the Joy of Cooking, 
“Getting the Most Out of Your Waring 
Blendor" “How to Use Your Singer” 
nd instructions, with diagram, for carv- 
ing the Thanksgiving turkey? Obedient 
to its recommendations, he had started 
some dish gardens 
from dried lentils, slices of carrots and 
grapefruit pips, setting them out in sau- 
cers under his student lamp, equipped 
with a 75-watt bulb—his landlady had 
confiscated the 150-watt bulb he had put 
in originally. Every day, he moved the 
positions of the saucers, so that they would 
share the light equally, determined not 
to show partiality in the vegetable king- 
dom, though already he preferred the 
lacy carrot. These dish gardens reminded 
him of the primary grades: the avocado 
and grapefruit plants on the broad win- 
dow sill the class used to water, the acorns 
he used to hoard and the interesting fear 
(which his mother had finally scouted) 
that a cherry stone he had swallowed 
would turn into a tree branching out of 
his mouth. 

All children, he guessed, were natural 


misers and sorcerers; the progeny of his 
new friends, the Bonfa were im 
pressed and delighted by his dish gar- 


dens when he invited them to tea in his 
aparument. He promised to start them 
some in their kitchen window from bits 
of carrots and the eyes of potatoes, 
he entrusted them with a sp 
lic clove, vith instructions to keep it 
their clothes closet and gradually bring 
out to the light; in the spring, it would 
have little white bell-like flowers—he did 
not se why garlic, though not specifi- 
cally mentioned in How to Gare, etc. 
should not act like any other bulb. They 


wanted to know whether this was Ameri- 
like the jack-o-lantern he had made 
them at Halloween, and Peter said it 
was. He was the first live American boy 
Tréne and Gianni had ever seen, and 
they asked him many questions, such as: 
Was it true that Americans ate with 
their feet on the table? Their conception 
of America was a blend of wild West 
and asphalt jungle, and they listened 
with doubtful wonder to the stories Pe- 
ter told of white wooden houses, ponds 

а ating, clamming, ісе- 
m freezers, blueberries, com оп the 
mother's rules for telling 
stories to children, which she had learned 
as a child from her father, was always to 
put in something good to eat. 


si- 
trying to keep a plant in his apart- 
ment. Certainly, the Fatshedera would 
have been happier in nature, wherever it 
basically came from—the Far East, he 
supposed. But he could not set it free, 
for it would dic if he abandoned it. He 
was responsible for it, though no Plant 
Welfare League would intervene if he 
were to neglect it. Besides i 
a minuscule contribution to the air of 
Paris. He had read an article in Le 
Figaro on air pollution (some doctor 
had taken a rat from the laboratory and 
exposed it at the Opera House; it was 
dead in 25 minutes, which said that 
Parisians could help by growing plants 
on their balconies and window ledges; 
the chlorophyll they exhaled was an air 
deanser. Whenever Peter took his tall 
Fatshedera walking, he felt there was an 
exchange of benefits; in return for the 
light it received, it purified the atmos- 
phere like a filter. He did not mind the 
centaurish figure he cut—half man, half 
vegetable—as he strolled along, the plant 
overtopping his head; often when he 
performed an action, he noticed, he lost 
his fear of visibility; it was as though he 
disappeared into the gest. 

He examined a printer's window on 
the Rue de Tournon. 
wade, attracted him; bookbi 
there was a bookbinder he 


liked. 
watch at work on the Rue de Condé. He 


had been thinking a lot lately about 
what he would do with himself when he 
was through with college and the Army. 
He was sure he did not want to become 
. though that was where his 
nguage major was leading him— 
straight into teaching, unless he took the 
State Dep: s for the Foreign 
Service. He would have liked to have 
been a consul in Persia a hundred 
ago, study’ flora and 


trigues, but he could not see himself in 
a modern office building issuing 
promoting U.S. foreign policy and the 
interests Of Standard Oil and rotating 
back in two years to Washington for 


ignment—in the old days, you were 
consul for 20 years or for life. His ideal 
career choice would be an occupation 
that kept him outdoors, like archacolo- 
gist or forester or explorer; yet every- 
g in his background was pushing 
him to be some sort of scribe, if not a 
pharisce, His father said these were day- 
dreams and not vocational drives: If Pe- 
ter were serious about wanting to spend 
his life in the open air, he would have 
enrolled a school of forestry or 
worked as a logger one summer or dug 
up Etruscan remains. . . . The babbo, 
Peter had to admit, was a shrewde 
prophet than his mother, who fondly saw 
him in а tropical helmet or excavating 
the skeleton of some Mycenacan w: 
when she did not see him arguing before 
the Supreme Cc 
In Paris, Peter h id been drez 
becoming a binder or a printer, though 
these trades not only kept you indoors 
but were probably worse for your health 
than teaching in a classroom, where at 
lcast you were on your fect all day in 
front of a blackboard. He would have 
enjoyed operating a. clandestine press in 
the maquis and. showering the country 
with broadsides and leaflets, but there 
was no Resistance anymore, except in 
uncongenial places like the Vietnamese 
mangrove swamps; and in the U. S, you 
could not become a printer unless you 
had an uncle or a father who belonged 
to the printers’ ur 
He turned right into the Rue de Vau 
assed the Senate and decided 
against going into the Luxembourg 
den today. Instead, he headed toward 
the Rue de Rennes, where there was 
café frequented by some Swedish girls 
who went to the Alliance Française. As 
he approached, he heard strange noises 
the sound of rhythmic chanting, mixed 
with honking—coming from the Rue de 
Rennes He hurried on. At the corne 
he saw what he took at first to be a 
parade and he wondered whether today 
could be a national holi 
failed to hear about. All along the wide 
street, houscholders were lined up on 
their balconies, some with а 
dusters, watching а procesion of young 
people marching abreast and chanting 
they were carrying broad streamers and 
placards with slogans written on them 
that he could not make out. The traffic 
оп the street had stopped; buses and cars 
were blowing their horns. Simultancously 
with Peter's arrival, a police car appeared 
at the intersection and some gend. 
descended in а body, wearing dark-blue 
capes that swirled as they moved, giving 
the scene a festive look. Peter realized 
that he was witnessing a demonstration 
such as he had read about in history. 
More gendarmes were running up the 
Rue de Rennes, rounding the corner by 
the municipal pawnshop and blowi 
(continued on page 112) 


ooms a 


nes. 


“No, Bud—I can't change a fifty.” 


72 


VERY MAN IN HIS YOUTH meets for the last time a magician, 
the man who made him what he is finally to bc. In the 
mass, man now confronts a similar magician in the shape 
s own collective brain, that unique and spreading force 

ill precipitate the last mirade or wreak the last disaster. 

The possible nature of the last disaster the world of today 
has made all too evident: Man has become a blight that 
tens to efface the green world that created him. 
It is of the last mirade, however, that 1 would write. And to 
do so, 1 have to describe my closing encounter with the 
personal magician of my youth, the man who set his final seal 
upon my character. 1 was 50 years old when my youth ended 
and it was, of all unlikely places, within that great unwieldy 
structure built to last forever amd then hastily to be torn 
down: the Pennsylvania Station in New York. 1 had come in 
through a side door and was slowly descending a great 
sta a slanting shaft of afternoon sunlight when 1 
be are of a man loitering at the bottom of the steps, as 
though awaiting me there. As I descended, he swung about 
and began climbing toward me. 

At the instant I saw his upturned face, my feet faltered and I 
almost fell. I was walking to meet a man ten years dead and 
buried, the man who had been my teacher and confidant and 
had not only spread before me as a student the wild back- 
ground of the forgotten past but had brought alive for me the 
spruce-forest primitives of today. With him I had absorbed 
their superstitions, handled their sacred objects, accepted their 
prophetic dreams. He had been a man of unusual mental 
powers and formidable personality. In all my experience, no 
dead man but he could have so wrenched time as to walk 
through its cleft of darkness unharmed into the light of day. 

The massive brows and forehead looked up at mc as if to 
ing of that clapsed decade during which I 
had held his post and discharged his duties. We met and, as 
my dry mouth strove to utter his name, I became aware th 
his gaze was directed beyond me and that he was hastening 
elsewhere. The blind eye turned sideways was not, in truth. 
fixed upon me; I beheld the image but not the reality of a 
long-dead man. Phantom or genetic twin, he passed on and 
the crowds of New York closed inscrutably abour him. I 
groped for the marble railing and braced my continued 
descent while, around me, travelers moved like shadows. 1 was 


demand an ассош 


a similar shadow, made so by the figure I had passed. But 
what was my affliction? That dead man 


d myself had been 
friends, not enemies. What terror, save the terror of the living 
toward the dead, could so powerfully have enveloped me? 

On the slow train homeward, the answer came. I had been 
away for ten years from the forest. I had had no messages 
from its depths, such as that dead savant had hoarded even in 
his disordered office, where box turtles wandered over the 
littered floor. І had been immersed in the post-War admi 
trative life of a growing university. But all the time, some 
accusing spirit, the familiar of the last wood-struck magici 
had lingered in my brain. Finally, he had stridden up the 
stairs 10 confront me in the autumn light. Whether he had 
been imposed in some fashion upon a convenient facsimile or 
as a genuine illusion was of litle importance compared with 
the message he had brought. I had starved and betrayed my 
self. It was this that had brought the terror. For the first time 
in years, I left my office in midafternoon and sought the sleep- 
ing silence of a nearby cemetery. 1 was as pale and drained as 
the Indian-pipe plants without chlorophyll that rise after rains 
on the forest floor. It was time for a change. I wrote a letter 
and studicd timetables. I was returning to the land that bore mc. 

Collectively, man is about to enter upon a similar, though 
more difficult, adventure. At the Cimactic moment of hi: 
journey into space, he has met himself at the doorway to the 
stars. looming shadow before him has pointed 
backward into the gled gloom of a forest from which it has 
been his purpose to escape. Man has crossed, in his history, 
two worlds. He must now enter another and forgotten one— 


And 


but with the added knowledge he has gained on the pathway 
to the moon. He must learn that whatever his powers as а 


magician, he lies under the spell of a greater, green enchant- 
ment that, try as he will, he can never avoid, however [ar he 
travels. The spell has been laid on him since the beginning of 
time—the spell of the natural world from which he sprang. 
Long ago, Plato told the story of the cave and the chained 
oners whose knowledge consisted only of what they could 
n of flickering shadows on the wall before them. Then he 
revealed their astonishment upon being allowed to scc the 
full source of the light. He concluded that the mind’s eye may 
be bewildered in two ways, either from advancing suddenly 
into the light of higher things or from descending once more 
from the light into the shadows, Perhaps more than Plato 
realized in the spinning of his myth, man has truly emerged 
from a cave of shadows, or from comparable leaf shadowed 
dells, He has read his way into the future by firelight and by 
moonlight; in man’s early history. night was the time for 
thinking, for the observation of the stars. The stars traveled, 


THE LAST 
MAGICIAN 


a distinguished anthropologist warns that 
man can preserve his human present only 
if he makes peace with his animal past 


article By Loren Eiseley 


men noted, and therefore they were given hunters’ n 
was the way of the hunters’ world and of the seasons. 

In spite of much learned discourse upon the ways of our 
animal kin and of how purely су slowly gave 
way to variable and muddled meanings in the head of 
protoman, І like to think that the crossing into man's second 
realm of received wisdom was truly a magical experience. I 
once journeyed for several days along a solitary stretch of 
coast. By the end of that time, from the oddly fractured shells. 
on the beach, little distorted faces began to peer up at 
me—with meaning. I had held no converse with a living thing 
for many hours and, as a result, 1 was beginning, in the 
silence, to read again—to read like an illitcrate. The reading 
had nothing to do with words. The faces in the cracked shells 
were somehow assuming a human significance. 

Once again, in the night, while I was traversing a vast plain 
on foot, the clouds that coursed above me in the moonlight 
began to build into archaic, voiceless pictures. That they 
could do so makes me sure that the reading of such pictures 
long preceded what men of today call language. The reading 
of so endless an alphabet of forms is already beyond the 
threshold of the animal; man could somehow see a face in a 
shell or a pointing finger in a doud. There existed in the 
growing cortex of man a place where, paradoxically, time 
both flowed and lingered, where mental pictures multiplied 
and transposed themselves. One is tempted to believe, wheth- 
er or not it is literally true, that the moment of first speech 
ived in a starburst like a supernova. To be sure, the 
uditory discrimination and memory tracts were a 
minary, but the "invention" of language—and 
I put this carefully, having respect for both the biological and 
the cultural elements involyed—may have come, at the last, 
with rapidity. 

Certainly, the fossil record of man is an increasingly strange 
one. Millions of years were (continued on page 138) 


LUSTRATION BY KERIG POPE 


ut porty while 
covering them 


Rex Reed, playing the male half of Myra Breckinridge’s personality and her spiritual guide through mavieland, visits a fai 


searching for his lovely charge. He finds a pack of Hollywaad heads who believe more in decarating their bodies tha 
(abave) ond оп assortment of freaked-out guests (below, left and right) whose sexual rales are os kinky as the costumes in which they cavart 


Кӣ 
mae ETS 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY TERRY O'NEILL 


Oblivious of the carnival trappings, stoned 
guests (below) take time out from the revels to 
contemplate their own—and others’—navels. 


pictorial essay By REX REED 


MYRA 


GOES 
HOLLYWOOD 


the on-screen excesses of gore vidal’s transsexual antihero( ine) 
are matched only by the intrigues that took place off camera 


WHEN 20TH CENTURY-FOX asked me to 
play the part of Myron—Raqucl Welch's 
alter cgo—in the film version of Gore 
al's Myra Breckinridge, I showed the 
prescience to be very, very wary. 1 knew 
there had already been a great deal of 
trouble setting up this project—not sur 
prisingly, since there are bound to be a 
few minor problems involved, even to- 
day, in adapting to the screen a novel 
about a transsexual who rapes a young 
man with a leather dildo and then runs 
off with his/her victim's girlfriend. First 
of all, there was the problem of casting: 
Would thcy get a man or a woman to 
play Myra? Vidal had talked of signing 
an international acting name like Vanes. 
sa Redgrave or Jeanne Morcau. ‘Then 
Fox started testing for the part an ex- 
tremely motley assortment of sexually 
ambiguous young men from all over the 
country. The studio was being pretty 
schizophrenic, though, because at the 
same time, it sent a script to Elizabeth 
Taylor, and whatever else Miss Taylor 
may be, she can't be mistaken for a man 
of any variety. When she wiscly refused, 


Raquel Welch signed for the part. Ra- 
quel wanted the part so badly that she 
even tested for it, like some struggling 
beginner. Fox was so desperate to get 
Mae West, on the other hand, that it 
paid her 5350.000. which was a gi 
deal more than Raquel got for the 
picture. 

In accepting a part myself, 1 realized 1 
was inviting trouble from my fellow film 
critics; 1 know them all personally апа 
everyone thinks I sold out by doing this 
movie. But most of the critics writing 
today know very little about the techni- 
cal side of making films and if they are 
ever offered the opportunity to work in 
one, they should accept; they might 
learn something. In any casc, I knew I 
was likely to be murdered when the 
reviews came out, so I wouldn't agree to 
do the movie unless studio let me 
approve my part of the script before 

Under no circumstances was I 
ed in playing a homosexual who 
has an operation to make him into a 
woman. They agreed to all my demands 
and assurcd mc that thc film would be 


Below left: Reed relaxes between takes with one of the film's able-bodied army of extras. 
Below right: Director Michael Sarne, a former pop singer, poses amiably with his high-powered 
sex stars, Raquel Welch and Mae West; but during filming, the three exchanged no valentines. 


like a Danny Kaye movie—a Walter Mit- 
ty fantasy: Myron, instead of undergoing 
a sex change, would be involved in an 
accident and dream that he was the alter 
cgo of Myra Breckinridge, giving advice 
to her. The two of them would be liv 
ing together at Chateau Marmont and 
there would be lots of sex between them: 
I'd be a sort of carnal Jiminy Cricket to 
Raquel's erotic Pinocchio. 1 didn't object 
too strenuously to that. 

But 1 had my doubts about the script. 
Vidal hadn't managed to produce a satis- 
factory screenplay and Michael Sarne, 
the director, had tried his hand at a 
rewrite with equal unsuccess. Then Vidal 
had rewritten Sarne’s rewrite and still 
nobody—except Vidal satisfied. So 
I wanted a few assurances that we'd 


was 


have a script to shoot. 1 was told that a 
third writer was being hired to complete- 
ly redo the screenplay, and it was true. 
David Giler came in and really shaped it 
up; he made it into instead of 
just a lot of scribble. So far, so good. But 
Sarne was so offended because Fox had 
called in another writer that he wouldn't 
shoot half of what was there, even 
though they demanded that he approve 
the script as rewritten. He would agree to 
do a scene, then when we got to the 
sound stage, he would use a line out of 
his own script and a line out of Gilei 
and most of the time, he just shot all 
kinds of things that had nothing at all to 
do with the movie. 

"The whole experience turned into an 
absolute nightmare. Sarne would have 


Reed and Raquel Welch, ће ather half of transsexual Myra, mull aver the movie's nonprog- 
ress. Anxiety was o permanent expressian an bath faces during the disastrous shooting. 


Raquel shows randy Uncle Buck (ployed by 
John Houstan, below left) how a niece can 
warm an uncle's heart better than any nephew. 


Embarking an her sworn mission ta canquer Hollywood ond destroy ils men (above), Raquel-Myre gets off ta а sizzling start by performing 


а bizarre rape upon a dubious young stud (Robert Herren, below, left and center), thus ruinausly altering his sexual predilections. She 


finds less satisfaction when she turns her eratic attentions to an innocent ingénue, Mary Ann, played by Farrah Fawcett (belaw right 


Leticia Von Allen, а man-devauring actors’ agent played by Mae West (above), pays a recon- 
naissance visit 10 the orgiostic revel that climaxes the movie—but she doesn't get їо participate. 


done anything with us if we hadn't been 
protected. There was a scene in his 
script, for instance, in which I was sup- 
posed to run naked down Wall Strect at 
midnight, chased by the entire New York 
police force. When J get to the foot of 
the Stock Exchange, I look up and, in- 
stead of the lady with the scales, there is 
Raquel with a machete in her hand. She 
proceeds, of course, to castrate me in 
front of thousands of people—but in- 
stead of blood and genitalia, out come 
rhinestones, pearls, rubies and sapphire 

Rather understandably, 1 said, “No pow 
er оп carth could get me to play that 
scene.” Raquel didn't have the legal pro- 
tection 1 had; so every time Same want- 
ed her to do something she refused to 
do, she would lock herself in her dress- 


ing room. There would be hours of con- 
ferences on the set, while everyone sat 
around drinking coffee at great expense 
to the company. That's the way she 
ended up protecting herself. 

Everything went horrendously wrong 
From the beginning, there were endless 
personality conflicts—mainly because our 
director had no experience in instilling 

ith in anybody. When Sarne made Jo. 
anna—his only previous feature film—he 
worked with a lot of people who were 
like a very happy, nutty, freaked-out 
family, and they did whateyer he told 
them to. But he had real pros working 
with him in Myra Breckinridge, people 
who weren't willing to do any damn 
thing he wanted them to. We all had our 
own ideas of how the movic should be 


Urinhibited guests demonstrate the games the 
wild bunch plays at this anything-goes soiree, 
where the prizes are the players themselves. 


Above left: A well-undressed partygoer is prepared for ony emergency that might arise ot Sorne's Felliniesque bocchonol. Above right: 
Reed costs a cold eye aver the zombiclike gathering before deciding wisely to move on, while (below) a girl on an acid trip is pursued 


PLAYBOY 


80 


done. Raquel isn't a stupid girl; she 
knew exactly what she wanted. So did 
Mae West, God knows. And John Hus- 
ton is no fool, and neither am I. 1 was 
really looking forward to meeting Hus- 
ton and working with him. He had been 
friendly with two of the people I ad- 
mired most—]ames Agee and Carson 
McCullers—and he's also made some 
pretty damn good motion pictures. He 
brought with him to the film a great 
deal of enthusiasm and excitement. He 
thought that to play Buck Loner, this 
old Gene Autry type, would be a gas and 
he had a lot of ideas on how to do й 

But the second day we were shooting, 
some vile little underground newspaper 
came out with an interview with Michael 
Sarne in which he proceeded to demolish 
all of us. He said about John Huston. 
such an old hack that J nearly walked off 
the picture when they told me I was 
going to be working with him, However, 
he is such an enormous fan of mine that 
perhaps it will influence him into giving 
the only decent performance of his en- 
tire career.” After that, Huston hardly ever 
came out of his dressing room. he never 
said hello or goodbye to anybody, he ate 
his lunch alone, he was never congen- 
ial He never refused to take direction, 
but he never really responded to anything 
Same did as a director. He would say, 
“Yes, yes," and then do the scene cxactly 
the way he had planned to do it all 
along. He had a stop date in his con- 
tract, which provided that he could leave 
оп a certain day. That morning, when 
we got to the studio, all of his bags were 
packed and outside his dressing room, 
with a car and driver waiting for him 
at the sound stage. Huston walked off the 
set and said, “Goodbye, everybody. You'll 
never cut it together!” He walked to his 
limousine and was sped to the airport 
for a flight to Ireland. 

By that point, Sarne was already a 
long way behind schedule. He would 
walk around in a stovepipe hat and a 
Charles Dickens coat, with his hands 
behind his back, and he would say, “1 
like that, let's print it. That's a take. 
And the script рій would go up to him 
and say, “But, Mr. Sarne, there was no 
film їп the camera; that was just a re- 
al" Docsn't exactly. instill security, 
does it? Richard Moore, a brilliant cam. 
eraman, nearly went crazy working with 
him. Sarne would reject everything Rich- 
ard suggested, simply because he hadn't 
thought of it first. He treated almost 
all the actors in the same way. He was 
on a real ego wip, and I don't think 
he really cared much for any of us, 
particularly Raquel. Every day. he would 
say, "Get Old Raccoon out here on the 
set" Of course, she would hear that 
and get very uptight. Sarne's concept was 
to use all of us as freaks to symbolize 
aspects of the movie industry that he per- 
sonally detests. He wanted to make Ка 
quel look masculine and tough, to bring 


out all the ugliness of Myra. Raquel 
wasn’t willing to do that. She wanted to 
make Myra a sympathetic character and 
show what kind of woman she was. Of 
course, she needed dialog to do it, but 
Sarne wasn't willing to give us any. Be- 
lieve it or not, he hates scenes with any 
kind of dialog. 

He would do all sorts of things to 
break down the actors. He would say, 
“Well, Rexy, I really don’t want to shoot 
you at all today, you look so ugly. You 
look so fat, you look middle-aged.” That 
made me feel really terrific. I didn't have 
any experience at movie acting, so 1 
needed all the help I could get. None of 
us got much help, so we all fought back 
in our individual ways. I ended up with 
my lawyers on the phone continuously. 
When she wasn't hiding in her dressing 
room, Raquel fought back by standing 
in front of a mirror all the time. When 
she senses hate from a director, the only 
thing she knows how to do is make her- 
self look good. In the middle of scenes, 
she would stop and all her sycophants 
would come running with their hair- 
brushes, hair sprays and little portable 
mirrors, and that would drive everybody 
insane. But I don't blame her, because 
the least you could do in this movie was 
try to look good. 

lt was a survival course we were run- 
ning. You couldn't even learn your lines, 
because sometimes you'd arrive on the 
set to do a particular scene and Sarne 
would say, "Oh, I'm not shooting that 
shit.” One day he said, “Everybody go 
home. I have a wonderful idea; I'm 
going to shoot food.” So Fox went out 
and spent $2000 on hor-fudge sundaes, 
pancakes, peanut butter, hamburgers, hot 
dogs, pickles: they put together this enor- 
mous spread of fantasticlooking food. 
Jell-O, cream puffs, everything. And for 
two days, he shot close-ups of food. Now, 
this is a very expensive way to play 
all that studio space was stand- 
ing vacant and the cameramen, crew and 
electricians were all getting paid to sit 
around while he shot footage of hot- 
fudge sundaes. 

There was also great tension between 
Raquel and Mae West. But you can't 
blame them. Raquel is the star of this 
movie, not Mac West; but Fox treated 
Raquel like chattel and rolled out the 
red carpet for Mae. They were absolute- 
ly on their hands and knecs to hei 
Raquel was supposed to have a big m 
cal number that they didn't let her do 
and they cut out all of her big juicy 
scencs, but they gavc Mac West two 
songs and Barbra Streisand’s dressing 
room from Hello, Dolly!. That made 
Raquel fecl great. On Mae's first day on 
the picture, Raquel refused to act with 
her in a scene because there һай been а 
problem on the costumes. "The story that 
circulated on the set was that. Raquel 
found out that Mac was going to be in 
black and white; anyone wearing black 


and white in a Technicolor scene grabs 
all the attention. Raquel didn't want 10 
be upstaged by Mae, so she demanded 
that she wear black and white in the 
scene, too. Everybody went up the май, 
because it’s in Mae's contract that only 
she wear black and white in the movie. 
According to gossip on the set, Raquel 
said, “Г g black and white 
the scene or I'm not appearing in it, 
and she stormed off to her Rolls-Royce 
and went home. She had brought dozens 
of red roses to welcome Mae and ended 
up taking them all home with her. They 
had to shoot all of Mae’s first day on the 
picture with the dialog coach reading 
Raquel’s lines from behind the camera. 

But the most incr le scene was 
filmed last November first. When we got 
to the studio that morning, what greeted 
us was unbelievable. There were naked 
women cverywhere. People from all the 
other sound stages were coming over to 
get a look. Raquel canceled two fittings 
and a hair appoinument just to watch 
what was going on. Of course, the set 
was closed, but it was the hottest thing 
in Hollywood if you could get in that 
day. "There was one girl walking around, 
a suit drawn on her body, with four se 
quins pasted on for buttons. A man in 
an Indian hat had pinned an enormous 
fur contraption over his genitals. A sing- 
er named Choo Choo Collins wore noth- 
ing bur a polkadot bi painted on 
her body. There was a man in а jockstrap 
with a fingerlike thing hanging down 
from his crotch. A group of nudes stood 
around a grand piano singing The Star- 
Spangled Banner and there was one man 
in a bra and panties and another in a 
half-slip. 

Tt was Michael Sarne's idea of a Holly. 
wood party. I never went to a party in 
my life in Hollywood or anywhere else 
that looked like that. 1 asked the extras 
if they had ever been to anything like 
this, A naked man was riding through 
the scene on a pogo stick and he said, 
“Oh, yeah, at the last party | went to, 
there was a man in a wheelchair and he 
pulled off his pants and а girl went 
down on him right there, at the party. If 
you stick around this set, maybe you'll 
get invitations to a few of them." One 
girl, who considers herself to be the high 
priestess of a witchcraft cult, said, “I 
think 7 should play Mae West's part. | 
had a very strong soul transfer with her 
and I feel that got a heart attack 
coming on. I've been told by the gods 
that I will end up playing her par 
‚ of course, was in her dressing room 
during all of this, getting made up and 
feeling fine and dandy. She was not 
originally supposed to be in the orgy: 
but when she heard about it, she insisted 
оп making an appearance. She now has 
an entrance in which she walks in and 
everybody applauds. She looks over the 
banister, fluffs up her hair and says, 

(concluded on page 155) 


FATHER VARNET stood to offer his hand, 
shrugged when it was refused, sat down 
again 

"| know why you're here, Mr. Kra- 
" he said. The words ran togethe 
and nowwhyyou'rehere. 
that? Kranach 
tied to remember, Father Donnelly, 
back there in St. Sebastian's. Years of 
blistering through the Latin of the Mass. 
Some of the kids said that Donnelly 
could give you an Our Father in two 
and a half seconds and you'd hear every 
word of it, too. They were all famous for 
something at St. Sebastian's if you were 
an altar boy long cnough—Father Delga 
do, who wanted practically all water and 
no wine in the chalice, and Father Mack, 
who was the other way around, vital stuff 
like that. 

Kranach didn't say anything. He'd 
g how he was going 


fast, 
Who used to talk like 


flat 


come 
to pu lay in his lap. The 
priest’s face was round and red. 

"My daughter Margaret Kranach 


said. "She told me tonight you won't 
marry her and Pete Toburn.” 

“That's right" Father Varnet said. 
"Margaret has been a member of this 
parish all her Ше. The Toburn boy is a 
professed atheist. Marriages like that are 
undesirable. They don't work out. It's а 
practical matter.” 

“You told her her children would be 
bastards, if she married him anyway.” 
in the eyes of the 


said nothing. Kranach 


The priest 
knew he was bored. Situation A. Re 
sponse В. Next case. Boredom. He wasn't 
afraid of Kranach, that Kranach had a 
gun or whatever; he was too shrewd for 


that. And he was big, probably strong, 
fat or not, and brave. Most priests are all 
balls, Kranach knew that; a coward 
priest is uncommon. 

“They will not be married in the 
Church," Father Varnet said, "and not 
by a priest." 

“These kids have waited for two years 
now, all the time Pete was in Vietnam," 
Kranach said. "Something bad could 
happen." 

“The marriage itself would be bad," 
the priest said, "and a bad thing cannot 
have a good result." 

Kranach said more, but he knew it 
didn't matter and he gave up and went 
home. 

Everybody was sitting around in the 
Kitchen. They all looked at him as he 
came in. Margaret got him а сар of 
coffee. He wanted a doughnut out of the 
heap on the platter in the middle of the 
table but, for some reason, he thought it 
wouldn't be right to take it, and in his 
own house. 

“I didn't get anywhere with him,” һе 
said. “They don't argue about a thing 
like this, smartass ones like him, they 
just tell you. Old Poshkin was a son of a 
bitch, but you could argue with him. 
Poshkin would boot this smart-ass down 
the front steps. Anyway, he says he won't 
let you get married in the Church, and 
he won't." 


fiction By КЕМ W. PURDY 

ask and ye shall receive, it 15 said, 

sokranach asked —though his faith 
had been dead for over 20 years 


“Му God, there has to be some way," 
Margaret said. 

"Sure, there's a way," Kranach said. 
"Peter goes back to the Church, he goes 
to confession, he goes to Communion, he 
goes back, then it's OK." 

“Petey,” Margaret said, “I never said 
this before, but look, what the hell, you 
could walk through it, if that’s what they 
want, let them have it, nobody has to 
know what you really th р 

"Peter," Margaret's mother said, “more 
people believe than don't, you know 
that," 

“Let him alone," Kranach . "God- 
damn it don't you know a man when 
you see one, you two?” 

"Look, Mom," Peter said, "if I could 
believe in it like I used to, I would. I 
can't, so I don't. That's all there is to 

"Go see a movie ог somet 
nach said. "Get in the са sit 
around here moping. Maybe ГЇЇ think of 
something. But not tonight. Ive had it 
for tonight.” He took two doughnuts 
and went into the front room and 
turned on the TV. 

In the morning, he said to his wile, 
thought of somethin; 

That night on his way home, he 
stopped at the church, He went up the 
steps two at а time, glad it was dark. His 
hand closed on the thick bronze ring and 
he thought, well, it's been 22 years, that's 
damn near forever, and went in. Memo- 
ries battered at him, riding on the colors, 


ILLUSTRATION BY PENN MCGEE 


“ 


g ош here and 
there in the gloom, yellow 40-wau bulbs 
in the black-iron chandeliers, stub can- 
Чез in banked red and green glasses at 
the altar, the smell of burning wax, 
flowers, thick blue incense smoke hang- 
ing forever high in the beams, Nothing 
had changed that he could see. Halfway 
down on the right side, there it was, the 
confessional Poshkin had come roaring 
out of, and dragged him out of, that 
June night, and they fought right there, 
head to head, like longshoremen; it took 
three men apiece to get them apart. 
That was where he got his flat nose, 
rolling on the blue stone floor in front 
of the confessional, and there was blood 
all over the place at the end. They threw 
Kranach out for good for that, excom. 
municated him, finally. Well, hell, he 
thought. Long time ago, all that. 

He walked softly along to the altar, 
knelt, dropped his quarter down the slot 
and put the taper to a butteryellow 
candle in a red glass. Then he bent his 
neck and prayed earnestly and for a long 
time, but not to God, to Poshkin; or, if 
to God, then God was wearing Poshkin's 
face. 

He came a few minutes late to the 
eight-o'clock Mass the next morning. Не 
sat in the back on the dark side of a 
pillar. There were 30 or 40 pcople scat- 
tered in front; there was no one near to 
sce him or to notice that he wasn't 
kneeling or standing, just sitting there. 

Probably no one in the church saw it 
as clearly as Kranach; after all, he was 
watching and waiting for it. Father Var- 
net coming down the steps, just 
carried the chalice up after Communion, 
when he seemed to wip; he half caught 
himself, then he really went, ka-boom, all 
the way to the altar rail, where he 
fetched up with one foot in the air and 
the other one under him. It was as funny 
a fall Kranach thought, as he'd ever 
seen, leaving out people like Buster Kea- 
ton, and, by God, the only time he'd 
ever seen a priest go on his head in the 
middle of a Mass. Fhe altar boys had 
Varnet under the arms, trying to get him. 
up, but it would be no good, Kranach 
knew: Varnet had а thoroughly sprained 
ankle, ordered, he thought, or peti- 
tioned, anyway, by me and delivered by 
Poshkin, the old son of a bitch, who had 
loved the chance to do it, you could bet 
on that for sure. 

Kranach drove down the street and 
stopped at a pay phone. Peter was still 
eaung breakfast, "You can tell Margaret 
I be all right now," he told the boy. 
“You said you could believe if you had a 
reason to, and that goes for me, too. 

“What in hell are you talking about?” 
Peter sai 

"You can go back to the Church, sin- 
cerely and like а man," Kranach said. 
“Anyway, for long enough to get mar- 
ried. I had a sign this morning, | saw a 
miracle. My faith came back. 1 believe 
now, and when I tell you, so will you. 
Come around to the store at lunchtime 

"Anything you say, Pop," the boy said. 


article 


By FREDRIC C. APPEL 


the age-old search for 
aphrodisiacs has inspired 
experiments with 
everything from spanish 
Jly, oysters, rhino horn 
and alcohol to pot, 
lsd—and a pair of new 
laboratory turn-ons 


AFTER A FEW THOUSAND YEARS of search- 
ing, and right in time to coincide with 
the sexual revolution, mankind has found. 
new drugs that may lead to the first true 
aphrodisiacs. Newspapers heralded the 
initial discovery with their customary 
enthusiasm for sexual topics: "CHEMICAL 
APHRODISIAC 15 FOUND"; "SCIENTISTS STIM- 
ULATE SEXUALITY." Even the researcher 
who first broke the news at a medical 
symposium, Dr. William O'Malley, be- 
trayed a measure of excitement: “We 
have seen 70-year-old men with a fre- 
gan) of intercourse at least twice daily. 
is compares with intercourse five 
ed a week by an average 20-year-old, 
newlywed male. In all of history, we 
have never known а true aphrodisiac, so 
this was quite a surprise. This is proba- 
bly the first time in the history of man 
that we have seen alterations of the 
fundamental biochemistry in the brain 
that produced hypersexuality." 

The news-making drug was a chemical 
compound called L-DOPA, whose aphro- 
disiac qualities seem now to have been 
overrated. But a closcly related drug, 
PCPA, does appear to be a bona fide sex 
ual stimulant. Not long after the L-DOPA 
announcement set off premature head- 
lines, a research team at the National 
Heart Institute in Bethesda, Maryland, 
reported that PCPA produced a long- 
lasting sexual frenzy in rats, rabbits 
and cats and had induced at least one 
person—a woman undergoing treatment 
for a stomach ulcer—to "start grabbing 
for everybody." Thus, some laboratory 
animals and one lusty lady may have 
earned themselves a place in medical 
history as pioneers in the age of the 
aphrodisiac—an elixir that could do for 
love what uranium did for war. 

"The search for a true aphrodisiac— 
a substance that either arouses sexual 
desire in another or enhances one's own 
sexual powers—is as old as recorded 
history and characterized by dedication, 
perseverance and ingenuity such as have 
been invested in few other human en- 
deavors. It has encompassed practically 
every foodstuff, spice, beverage, narcotic 
and herb a person might dare put into 
his mouth or on his body, plus quite a 
number of other substances so exotic or 
noxious that one can only marvel at 
anyone's ability to stomach them. These 


include horses placentae, the flesh of 
dead human beings, the sexual organs of 
various creatures and other equally un 
appetizing items. In short, the range of 
alleged aphrodisiacs seems to have been 
limited only by man's imagination. 

Typically, a nostrum acquired an aph- 
rodisiac reputation by way of legend, 
myth, ancient religious association, its 
physical resemblance to people or to 
genitals or simply through wishful think 
ing. The mandrake plant, for example, 
was long widely believed to be an aphro- 
disiac because it often grows to resemble 
a human figure. Similarly, a popular Ro- 
man aphrodisiac, satyrion, comes from a 
plant whose root consists of two tubers 
that be ng resemblance to testi- 
cles, The sexy reputation of the oyster is 
said to derive from the fact that on the 
half shell, it looks—to some—like a 
woman's shaved genitals. 

For obvious reasons, aphrodisiac quali- 
ties have also been attributed to the 
sexual organs of various animals. In 17th 
Century France, eating а ram's testes was 
thought to increase sexual desire. In Al- 
geria and Morocco, that power was con- 
ferred on the testes of the lion. In Italy, 
the esteemed chef Cartolomeo Scappi was 
known for his lamb'stestes recipes. Else- 
where, the organs of donkeys and roost- 
ers enjoyed great popularity. 

Quite a number of spices, particularly 
members of the pepper family, came to 
be regarded as aphrodisiacs because they 
can irritate the urogenital tract, causing 
a tingling sensation. The drug yohim- 
bine, extracted from the bark of the 
yohimbé tree, similarly irritates the uri- 
nary tract and has long been used as a 
sex stimulant by the native tribes of 
West Africa and South America. Taking 
ап even more direct approach, laggard 
lovers in ancient Greece applied power- 
ful skin irritants, such as mustard and 
Spanish fly, directly to their genitals in 
order to stimulate an erection. They usu- 
ally got their erections, but whether they 
got their jollies is another question; nor 
does history record the reactions of wives 
and girlfriends who were treated to pep: 


aphrodisiacs, however, is by no 
means restricted to the ancients. Today, 
powdered rhinoceros horn and reindeer 
antler are world-wide sellers. The demand 
is so great, in fact, that a single, large 
rhinoceros horn brings a hunter over 
$1000 on today's market. Reindeer antlers 
go for a dollar a pound, while a single 
Korean ginseng root, the latest Holly- 
wood rage, can command as much as 
$1000. The root, which various pcople 
describe as resembling either a human 
figure or a penis, is used in brewing an 
acrid tea or as a powder in capsules, and 
is thought to restore or enhance virility. 

Shops from New York's Greenwich Vi 
lage to the New Orleans French Qu 
in the lotusland of Southern Californi 
and the boondocks of the Deep South 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY EILL ARSENAULT 


PLAYBOY 


8&4 


are doing a booming business today 
їп aphrodisiac herbs, potions, oils, creams 
and other preparations based variously 
on ancient Oriental, European or even 
American Indian formulas. In Europe, 
in addition to herbs and oils lor anoint- 
ing one's body, a love seeker might try a 


cup of vervain, а drink prepared from 
mistletoe berries; elecampane, а flower- 
seed preparation; or tanto krin, a Rus- 


m concoction made from powdered 
antlers and an alcoholic brine. In West 
Germany, a chain of department stores 
devoted exclusively to erotica does a 
$6,000,000-a-year business peddling some 
1500 items promising to stimulate, pro- 
long or otherwise improve sex. 

If none of these products possesses 
genuine aphrodisiac qualities. at least 
they are generally harmless. And the 
so-called aphrodisiac foods and diets that 
frequently appear in books and maga- 
zines arc usually more healthful than a 
hamburger with French fries; but that's 
bout all one could say for them. 

On the other hand, almost any of the 
socalled aphrodisiacs cam produce the 
desired effect—if the user believes it will 
work. In such cases, all the individual 
really needs is the placebo effect of nib- 
bling on. some bad-tasting root or herb, 
plus a little positive thinking. Faith not 
only moves mountains; it can also raise a 
105 a state of mind, 
хог 
з Pharmacy in New York's East 
Village. Kiehl's peddles such enticing 
items as Compelling Oil, Indian Love 
Powder, Cleopatra Oil and Hi John the 
Conqueror Root; but Morris makes no 
special claims for these products. "When 
people have that kind of feeling,” he 
says, "it doesn’t matter what they take. 
It could be aspirin 

Occasionally, however, а notso-harm- 
less preparation becomes available. One 
doctor recounted the case of а young 
business executive who was given some 
"supersex"" vitamin pills by a colleague, 
with the promise that they would give 
him extraordinary sexual vigor. Not long 
after, he traveled to another city to con- 
duct а round of conferences with various 
clients. Arriving early one evening, he 
took one of the pills and went out on 
the town. Before too long, he happily 
encountered a young lady, who, alter а 
few drinks, invited him to her apart 
ment To his chagrin, he was totally 
unable to perform. The next morning, 
the day of the planned conferences, he 
awoke to find that he could not speak. 
A second side effect of the supersex drug 
way to paralyze the larynx for 24 hours, 

Far more tragic is the toll of deaths 
from the best known and most dangerous 
of supposed aphrodisiacs, Spanish fly. As 
far back as 18th Century France, it 


js Aaron Montis, prop 


fashionable to hold dinnerand-sex par- 
1 t which the food was treated with 
this substance; and historians haye un- 
covered numerous instances of fatal and 
near-fatal poisonings. On the morning 
after one such party, attended by some 
20 persons, the entire dinner ensemble 
was found dead. More recently, a Lon- 
don clerk was convicted of murder when, 
after failing to seduce his girlfriend by 
conventional methods, he mixed up a 
batch of Spanish fly-laced chocolate bon- 
bons. As chance would have it, she was 
faithfully sticking to a diet and gave the 
chocolates to a friend, who ate them and 
died. 

The active ingredient in Spanish fly is 
2 poison called cantharidin. It is extract- 
ed from the dried remains of an in- 
sect commonly called the blister beetle, 
which defends itself by secreting а sub- 
stance that burns or blisters the skin of 
anyone who picks it up. Taken intemal- 
ly, cantharidin causes irritation of the 
Kidneys and urinary tract, burning in the 
throat, abdominal pain, vomiting, shock 
and sometimes death. In tiny enough 
amounts, the irritation of the urinary 
tract may be perceived as a tingling in 
the sexual organs; but as little as one 
grain can be fatal to human beings. 

Perhaps the strangest aspect of man's 
compulsive and sometimes hazardous 
search for an aphrodisiac is why human 
being should want one at all. According 
to most doctors and anthropologists, man 
is already the sexiest creature on earth, 
thanks to a powerful libido—or sex drive 
—that really needs no enhancement. 
“The human animal i: able of screw- 
ing 365 days a year,” says one doctor 
bluntly. “As far as I know, he is the only 
member of the animal kingdom that can 
do that." In fact, the doctors say, the 
average human being with a completely 
unfettered libido would probably never 
get the chores done. But many people 
are so hung up with sexual anxiety, guilt 
and inhibitions acquired from social and. 
religious training that it's a wonder they 
are able to make love at all. And, of 
course, many of them don't, from either 
dumb choice or inability—or both, 

The power of the libido helps explain 
the widely held current belief that such 
drugs as marijuana, hashish and the opi- 
ates have aphrodisiac qualities. Simply 
because they depress the central nervous 
system and relax inhibitions, these drugs 
sometimes do produce aphrodisiaclike 
effects. Marijuana, for instance, may dis- 
tort one's sense of time and affect the 
sense of touch in ways that for some 
people increase the pleasure of copula- 
tion and climax. But none of these drugs 
is а true aphrodisiac in the sense that it 
arouses sexual desire, 

There is evidence, in fact, that in 
ny peaple, п reduces the sex 


drive—or at least reduces the need to 
satisfy it. Unlike the randy, widecyed, 
cnergetic drunk, the pothead may be 
content to contemplate the pleasures of 
sex without actually getting апу. In addi- 
tion, marijuana and some of the stronger 
drugs сап create obstacles to sex that 
more than compensate for the relaxing 
of inhibitions. The majority, for exam- 
ple. are mildly anesthetizing to the geni- 
talia, and some produce a degree of 
nausea. In slightly stronger doses, they 
tend to put people to sleep or to so 
depress the central nervous system that 
the sexual apparatus is impaired. Habit- 
ual heroin users, for example, are rarely 
able to perform the sex act. 

One doctor, who was seeking some- 
thing to help his nonorgasmic patients, 
came across а narcoticcontaining bever- 
age from Morocco that was alleged to be 
an aphrodisiac. It consisted of an ab- 
sinthelike liqueur, а little tincture of 
opium to relax inhibitions and a trace 
quantity of Spanish fly intended to pro- 
duce a slight tingling in the urogenital 
tract. Determined to test it, the doctor 
took the liqueur home and his wife pro- 
ceeded to prepare a romantic candlelight 
dinner. Following dinner, he poured two 
ponies of the drink and, after clinking 
glasses, they drank them down. The next 
morning, the good doctor and his wife 
awoke—still at their dining-room table. 
‘The potion had put them both directly 
to sleep. 


The hallucinogenic drugs, such as 


LSD, have also been cited as aphrodi 
ac. According to the drug's advocates, 
LSD qualifies as an aphrodisiac not be- 
cause of any power to arouse sexual 
desire but because of its ability to open 
new dimensions of sensation and the 
new insights it affords into the sexual 
experience. Indecd, а person on an LSD 
trip may well imagine any number of 
pleasant variations and permutations on 
the sex experience. But there is always 
the risk of a bad trip with equally un- 
pleasant results. It has even been claimed 
that a person on LSD doesn't really need 
à partner to have a sexual experience; he 
can just imagine everything. And in one 
case, reported in these pages some years 
ago, à man who had taken LSD was un- 
able to obtain an erection, despite the 
vigorous assistance of his partner, But 
then, he said. he was overcome with an 
awareness that “My entire body was опе 
greal crea penis and the world was my 
vagina. . . ." Whether inducing such 
quasisexual experiences qualifies LSD as 
an aphrodisiac is largely a question of 
semantics. Like marijuana and the nar- 
cotics, LSD docsn't arouse sexual desires 
that aren't already present. 

Researchers say that the development 


of a 


true aphrodisiac will come only 
with the discovery of something that acts 


exe 


"Mother, I think we're having our first disagreement." 


85 


PLAYBOY 


specifically on the brain's sex center. They 
know, for example, that the sex experi- 
ence is essentially psychological and that 
по drug acting solely on the central 
nervous system or on the sex organs will 
create a desire for sex. In women, direct 
physical stimulation of the clitoris won't 
produce even hard breathing, let alone a 
climax, unless the womai s it to—or 
is willing to let it. In men, there is a 
lowlevel reflex action by which penis 
stimulation can bring about an erection 
and ejaculation, but it produces little or 
mo sexual pleasure unless the man is 
mentally aroused. 

In the same way, drugs that act on the 
over-all brain are unsuccessful because, if 
they stimulate a person mentally, they 
also tend to stimulate anxieties and inhi- 
bitions; and if they are depressive, they 
depress both. In the case of the narcotics, 
which are mostly depressants, the drugs 
depress not only the brain but also the 
sexual apparatus, the sensory nerves and 
a number of body processes that, when 
disrupted, often produce nausea, discom- 
fort and sleepiness. 

It was in this context that researchers 
discovered the apparent aphrodisiac ef 
fects of L-DOPA and PCPA, Unlike all 
the previous so-called aphrodisiacs, these 
two drugs did work specifically on cer- 
tain well-defined brain. centers. They 
were being tested in the treatment of 
Parkinson’s disease, a progressive degen 
erative disease that annually strikes some 
500.000 Americans, generally between 
the ages of 50 and 70. It is characterized 
by trembling hands, shuflling gait, drool 
ing, speech impairment and an immo- 
bile, expressionless face, and it causes 
eventual invalidism and death. About 
ten years ago, a Viennese scientist ob. 
served that patients who had died of 
m had abnormally low levels 
of a vital brain chemical, dopamine, in 
certain parts of the brain that normally 
are rich in the substance. Suspecting that 
this deficiency might cause the Parkinson 
symptoms, he treated a number of pa- 
tients with the chemical. His experi 
ments were unsuccessful; dopamine, it 
was discovered later, cannot cross а natu- 
ral body defense called “the blood-brain 
barrier” between the brain and the rest 
of the body. 

Several years later, another scientist dis- 
covered that though dopamine couldn't 
cross the barrier, its immediate chemical 
precursor, levo-3, 4-dihydroxy-phenylala- 
піпс—ог L-DOPA—could get into the 
brain from the blood stream. There, a 
rally occurring enzyme converted the 
L-DOPA into dopaminc. This discovery 
year test. program involving 
601 patients in 22 hospitals across the 
country. The results of the program, 
ieorgetown U 


wa 


led to a five 


announced at a 


symposium last fall, showed that more 
than 60 percent of those treated exper 
enced some improvement in their condi- 
tion, including about five percent who 
had а complete reversal of symptoms. 
What attracted the most publicity, how- 
ever, was a minuscule two percent who 
also experienced the apparent. aphrodis- 
iac side effect described by Dr. O'Malley. 

This is not necessarily a true aphrodis- 
jac effect, explains Dr. Morris Belkin of 
the National Institutes of Health. "If 
you had been lying on your back and 
thinking about having a woman for the 
past ten years, but couldn't. because of 
your disease,” he said, “once you were 
relieved of your symptoms, you might 
become sexually active, too.” Doctors still 
don't understand exactly how L-DOPA 
works, he went on, or why dopamine 
deficiency causes Parkinson symptoms. 
Nor can they explain the apparent aph 
rodisiac side effect. Moreover, he con- 
cludes, the tiny percentage of patients 
exhibiting any increased sexuality —and 
the problem of such side effects as 
sea and emotional disturbances—doesn't 
warrant much optimism about the drug's 
potential as an aphrodisiac. Its use in the 
treatment of Parkinsonism is much more 
promising. 

But the second drug, parachloro-phen- 
ylalanine, or PCPA, doc: 
as an aphrodisiac, according to Dr. 
L. Gesa, a member of the fourman 
research team at the National Heart Insti- 
tute that discovered it. "We are optimis- 
tic,” Dr. Gessa says, "that our work may 
lead to the development of a true aphro- 
disiac.” While L-DOPA remains some- 
thing of a mystery, scientists think they 
understand how PCPA works. Most of 
the brain centers, Dr. Gessa explains, 

two opposing pathways, or 

one that stimulates and one that 
inh against cach other, 
they remain in balance. Each of these 
circuits depends on a specific chemical 
ce, called a neurotransmitter, that 
facilitates the transmission of nerve im- 
pulses from one nerve cell to the next. 

In the so-called limbic system, a small 
region of the brain believed to control 
both sex drive and sleep, the neuro- 
transmitter for the stimulatory circuit is 
called norepinephrine; its inhibitory 
counterpart is called serotonin. In lay- 
man’s terms, says Dr. Gessa, “Serotonin 
s ‘no’ to sex and ‘yes to sleep, while 
norepinephrine says just the opposite." As 
an added precaution against the syste 
getting out of balance, he gocs on, the 
body provides a third substance, called 
monoamine oxidase, or MAO, which acts 
ind of policeman, destroying any 
excess of either neurotransmitter that 
might accumulate. PCPA alone, he says, 
has a slight aphrodisiac effect, because it 


show promise 
Gian 


depresses the level of serotonin in the 
limbic center, thus allowing the sex-stim- 
ulating norepinephrine to become domi- 
nant. But the MAO, exercising its police 
function, tries to counteract this imbal- 
ance by destroying the excess norepineph- 
rine. This led scientists to add a second 
drug to the treatment, pargyline, which 
blocks the MAO from d s work. 
The end result ory 

tonin is depressed by the PCPA 
while the stimulatory norepinephrine ac 
cumulates and increasingly intensifies the 
sex drive, 

In the laboratory, the research team 
first administered the drugs to 80 male 
‘The sexual excitation lasted for 
several hours and usually reached a cli 
max with all the animals in one cage 
attempting to mount each. other at the 
same time,” the team reported. When 
the drugs were given to rabbits, the 


is v 


effects were even more pronounced and 
long-lasting. Does this mean that man's 
long quest for a magical love potion has 


finally ended? Not quite, says Dr. Gessa. 
Research work has only begun and the 
drugs haye not yet been fully tested on 
human beings. It would be foolhardy to 
assume that the brains of rats and hu- 
mans are identical or that the drugs 
would have identical effects on both. 
Secondly, the drugs could have unsus- 
pected psychic and physical side effects 
that would preclude their use. Finally, 
even if the drugs prove safe and effective 
on human beings, they would not satisfy 
the traditional lovepotion requirement 
of rapid action, It takes at least four 
days of steady administration before the 
drugs have an effect, Dr. Gessa says, and 
then it takes another several days with 
out sleep before they wear off. In short, 
PCPA is not a feasible drug with which 
to ply one's inhibited girlfriend. But as 
a medical tool for doctors treating impo- 
tence and frigidity, the drugs do show 
great promise. Doctors could administer 
them over a period of four days, send 
patients home for а wild weekend and 
then, after the desired result has been 


achieved, inject them with a chemical 


blc 


precursor of serotonin that would ei 

them to get some much-needed sleep. 
Doctors would welcome the perfection 
of such a cording ло Dr. 
Richard H. Edenbaum, a prominent in 
ternist in the posh Chevy Chase suburb 
of Washington, not far from the Ма 
tional Inst where the 
research i “1 hope thi 
research can prove fruitful," he says, "be- 
cause it will give us a valuable medici 
ment for a very serious medical problem 
Three out of ten patients in my practice 
come in with complaints of frigidity or 
impotence in one or both of the part- 
ners. And this has led to divorce and 
(concluded on. page 176) 


treatment, 


taking place. 


> тірк FACHMAN tested the popular conviction that large’ suspected of an 
«+ blue quantities of sky, sca and-silence can heal and soothe А a. { 
а troubled- mind. This notion ‘proved false. Hé«spent the @bominable crime, а \ 


first week of his vacation in Greece, in a small white Aegean Ка 
Haelthablyestunged) and: bleaching in the Оаа dL IO LUE had . А 
he discovered iñ himself an incipient agoraphobia, the ter 77, 1 ; 
ror of open spaces. He Spenv’most of the werk in his room, dropped from sil 
where he could lic otuthe bed and rumiriate on his divorce, удар he was tring [0 
ъё . an the wife who was now spending his money, the children as 5 
eea a NY fiction who were so ‘oddly indifferent їо Лһе sea change in their preserve whatever 
-B HENRY LESAR lives. Then lieswent toà Balearic Islands where, the white : А 
- y | buildings were at. least splashed with. scarlet and, purple, Life was left to Jum 
| e = Н. БУ Aer usaron g reien getty - E d. 


22 - 
~ Е + 


PLAYBOY 


88 


foliage and where the coastal clifls were 
penetrated by peaceful inlets with sandy 
beaches surrounded by pine. But he was 
no happier there. Luckily, he saw the 
colonel one day, and that was exactly 
what his brain needed: not healing and 
soothing but a mystery to ponder. 

Pachman wrote magazine articles for a 
living. Frequently. he ghosted celebrity- 
written pieces or autobiographies. His 
favorite joke about himself concerned 
the question asked by his seven-yearold 
son; the boy wanted to know if his first 
name was Astoldto, Pachman averaged 
$20,000 а year, although in the lawyer's 
office, his wife, her lips looking like a 
closed purse, claimed he averaged $30,000. 
He was good at his work. He had an 
awesome gilt for remembering names 
and faces. 

But when he first spotted the colonel, 

sitting in a closed car parked on the 
adh, struck by the f. 
miliarity of his face. The scene itself was 
too remarkable. The shabby old Re- 
nault, its tires threatened by the lapping 
water; the neatly dressed driver picking 
shells out of the gluey sand; and the 
colonel, sitting behind the upraised win- 
dow of his vehicle, pufüng оп a cigarette 
nd peering out at the sea, toward the 
land of Vedrá rising shecrly on the hori 
zon. Later, the colonel told Pachman 
that the island was inhabited only by 
blue lizards. He commented, “Lizards 
can be the swiftest creatures on earth. It 
may take days to trap one. Then the 
disappointment is keen, when one 
covers their hide is so tough they are 
edible.” 
Pachman spoke to the manager of his 
pension, who was only too happy to talk 
about the colonel. His full name was 
Colonel Antonio Sebastian Teixeras. No 
one knew if the title was military, honor- 
ary or spurious. He was wealthy by the 
standards of the island, being able to 
afford a boat, a house and а manservant. 
The servant's name was Rodrigo and he 
was a mute, and he may or may not have 
once been the colonel's orderly They 
lived in solitude in a dwelling that used 
to be the highest on the island, until the 
mayor pompously decided to build his 
own house above it. The colonel had 
been indifferent to this; but then, the 
pension manager shrugged, the colonel 
was indifferent to most things. 

The next time Pachman saw the colo- 
nel, they were exactly three yards apart, 
the measurement made possible by the 
length of cloth the saleswoman at the 
Gran Galeria was holding between them. 
Pachman had wandered into the shop as 
a dutiful tourist. The colonel was there 
because the owner imported English cig- 
arettes for him. The brand name was 
reason cnough for Pachman to strike up 
a conversation, and he was pleased to 
learn that the colonel was not only willing 
to speak but able to speak his language. 


He was an immaculate man of medi- 
um height, whose military bearing added 
an illusionary inch or two. Pachman 
guessed his age at 70. He was craggy- 
featured, small-eyed and his nose was a 
nose. Within the first few seconds, Pach- 
man was certain that he looked upon a 
familiar face, 

When they parted, the colonel, with 
ritual courtesy, suggested that they meet 
again, Pachman asked him where he 
went for his tertulia, having been told 
that Spaniards prefer to hold their social 
conversations away from home. The colo- 
nel mentioned the Café Francia, the 
smallest of the three on the island. 

For the rest of the day, Pachman had 
something else to chew on beside memo- 
s of his divorce. Why would the face 
of a Spanish ex-officer, on a small island 
in che Mediterranean, be so hauntingly 
familiar? 

He went to the Café Franca that 
evening and saw the coloncl's Renault 
parked outside. Rodrigo was in the back 
seat, curled up like a child, asleep. The 
colonel was alone at a small table with a 
glass of wine and he greeted Pachman 
almost as if the appointment had been 
arranged. 

But nothing the colonel said that 
night gave Pachman the clue he needed. 
He confined his comments to the island 
and its neighbors, to remarks about the 
cats in the street, the fish in the sea, the 
lizards on Vedrá. When Eldridge inquired 
about his past, the colonel answered 
by sipping his wine. And yet, inches 
from the narrow contour of his face, the 
promontory of his позе, Pachman was 
more certain than ever that he knew thi 
man and knew him because of some 
event that made those features famous 
nfamous. 

For two days, he pondered. On the 
third day, he went to the Café Franca 
carly, to ty its dinner fare. The menu 
boasted langouste, baby octopus and bean. 
dishes, While eating his lobster, Eldridge 
was suddenly struck with the answer and 
it was electrifying enough to cause the 
fork to drop from his hand and clatter 
to the tiled floor. After that, he finished 
his meal quickly, no longer willing to 
enjoy the colonel's tertulia that night. 

But with only four days of his holiday 
remaining (he had committed himself to 
the autobiography of a silencscreen 
star), Pachman knew he had to have his 
answer confirmed or denied. And the 
only man who could do that was Colonel 
Teixeras. Or. rather if his answer 
proved correct, Colonel Miguel Fernan- 
dez Malagaras. 

The next evening, he arranged his 
encounter with the colonel at the Café 
Francia and, with hardly а preamble, 
said: 

You know, Colonel, when I was а 
very young boy, I didn't collect stamps, 
coins or model airplanes; my passion 


ines. articles 
stayed in my memory, especially those 
that told of mysteries still unsolved. One 
story I recall concemed an officer in the 
air force of Sy who, in 1933? 19347 
undertook an experiment in tansatlan- 
tic military wansport in an aircraft 
made for passenger service, by Handley 
Page, I believe. With a dozen officers and 
enlisted men aboard, the plane left Ma- 
drid early one morning and was never 
heard from again—until parts of the 
wreckage were spotted in the Meditei 
nean by a fishing boat. 

Pachman, watching the colonel саге- 
fully, was disappointed by his rcaction— 
or, rather, the lack of 
As a result,” he continued, “a search 
of the area was made and the survivors 
of the crash were removed from a small 
island by a British destroyer. Or, rather, 
the survivor, singular—since, of the 
twelve men who left Madrid, only one, 
the commanding officer, was alive. In 
fact, his survival was so miraculous that 
it earned him dozens of speculative arti- 
des in many magazines. 1 read all 1 
could find, looking for definite answers 
to the mystery, but there were none. The 
officer—his name was Colonel Miguel 
Fernandez Malagaras—stuck doggedly to 
a story that simply made no sense.” 

Now Pachman saw the reaction he 
wanted. The ash of the colonel's ciga- 
rette dropped onto the coloncl's lapel 
and he failed to notice it. 

“The officer's story was simple and 
tragic in its beginning. The plane de 
veloped an oil leak. The pilot, being at 
the point of no return, had no choice 
but to crash into the ocean or attempt a 
forced landing on one of several small, 
barren, uninhabited islands within sight 
"The attempt was made and it was par- 
tially successful; the aircraft was brought 
to ground on a strip of volcanic rock. 
The plane was demolished, the pilot and 
two enlisted men were killed, the others 
injured or shaken but alive. 

‘As commanding officer, Coloncl Mala- 
garas naturally took charge of the group 
and tried to keep them going u 
they could be rescued. The effort was 
doomed. There was a fresh-water inlet 
on the island, but except for a handful 
of lizards, there was nothing even vague 
ly edible, Death by starvation seemed 
inevitable, so they spent their days pray- 
g for the sight of a vessel and their 
lits dreaming of steaks and roasts and 
puddings. - . 

He heard the colonel heave a sigh 

"When he was finally rescued, Colonel 
Malagaras had no idea how much time 
had passed; actually, it was eight weeks. 
"There were no bodies on the island; as a 
health measure, he decreed that cach 
dead n should be weighted with 
stones and slipped into the sea, an 
pleasant chore he performed himselí. 
(continued on page 203) 


“za 


à REAL GAS! 


it's up, up and away as playboy takes off on a highflying balloon outing 


ПТО АМТС caet anon t aces до ир Enron ene oem erede 
attention—except, perhaps, the arrival of a Martian space ship in Central Park or another moon-shot liftoff at C. 
Kennedy. But even if the sight of a balloon didn't cause a commotion on the ground, the ride in a gondola built for 
two would be a private pleasure worth every bit of the effort it takes to launch an 80-foot-tall nylon "envelope" 
filled with hot air. 

Today's breed of balloonists bears little resemblance to the itinerant hydrogen-bag jockeys of the 19th and early 
20th centuries who played the county-fair circuits, inviting farmers to “Step right up and see the city from the sky— 
for which a small fee will be charged.” Ballooning has evolved into a sophisticated sport enjoyed by urban couples 
who happen to dig riding the wind suspended from a colorful bubble that looks like an enormous Christmas-tree 
ornament (but, fortunately, is nowhere nearly as fragile). 

Not all the fun of ballooning is sky-high. There's also the excitement of coming to rest on a remote hilltop with 
a fabulous view, a spot where a picnic lunch is more than just a meal; it’s a unique expe . since chances are that 


Below, left to right: Balloon parties, with either rented or privately owned balloons, usuolly get off the ground at dawn; that's when surface 
winds are calmest. After the colorful nylon bags have been unrolled and stretched open, our six couples fill them—using motorized fans. 
Propane-gas burners are then ignited; as the balloons heat up, all honds grab lines to prevent the croft from prematurely heading skyword. 


Above, left to right: With ascension time near, four of the couples climb aboord the metal gondolas while the two others act as chase 
crew—following the flights from the ground in a Toyota Land Cruiser and a hotted-up Chevrolet El Camino. The pilots hit the blast valves, 
90 causing the air temperature inside the 80-foot-all bags above them to rise; then the four balloons gradually lift and drift away. 


Once aloft, the balloons ara soon separated; their varied altitudes gid them in picking up different velocities” 
12 of winds, Above: At noon, one couple spots a picnic site olop а rock pecked with fresh-water pools. Lunch 
s i$ followed by a leisurely dip and a well-chilled bottle of bubbly—the bolloonis!'s traditional drink. 


2. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY 


Above: By late in the afternoon, our intrepid aeronouts have got 
their craft back together again and are heading straight for a 
giant Playboy Rabbit target that’s been laid out by the chase 
crew. Left: As they approach, their friends wave a greeting- 


the wind currents won't carry you to that location again. 


And if you think one balloon is a ball, try four. A balloon- 
ing party similar to the one pictured оп these pages is a 
friendly way to fly when it’s a lazy summer day and you feel 
those hot-weather doldrums coming on. Six couples are the 

timum number for а four-balloon affair. The extra pairs 


act as a chase crew, following (text continued overleaf) 


Below, left to right: A fireside feast is last on the agendo, 
as one couple seeks the seclusion of a shallow grotto that's 
well out of the wind. Opposite: Another twosome can't resist 
getting away from it all in an illuminaled tethered balloon. 


DON JONES 


PLAYBOY 


94 


their quarry from the ground in a wild 
cross-country variation of a fox huni 
additional friends volunteer to 
getting the festivities off to a flying start, 
that’s all to the good: Plenty of helping 
hands on ground ropes lessens the chance 
that a balloon will take off with nobody 
aboard. 

After the balloonists are aloft and well 
downwind, the chase crew will speed 
ahead to an open field and lay down a 
marker (we used а giant Playboy Rabbit) 
that indicates where the acronauts should 
land. Because a ballooning wip is such a 
kick, it calls for final celebration after 
toudidown—an alfresco payoff in food 
and drink that’s worthy of the day's flight 
fantastic. 

Hot-air ballooning as a sport has been 
around since 1783—the year France's 
Montgolfier brothers sent aloft a heated 
bag with a gondola containing a duck, 
a rooster and a sheep. These barnyard 
balloonists rose to a height of 1700 feet, 
then descended safely two miles away 
after only eight minutes of flight. King 
Louis XVI applauded the aerial animal 
act and plans were made to send a man 
into the sky. 

Jean Francois Pilitre de Rozier, the 
kings historian, volunteered for the 
ascent. His balloon was a huge blue-and- 
gold sphere made of heavy cloth and dec 
orated with the royal cipher and thc 
signs of the zodiac. The platform on 
which he rode could hold just one man, 
a fire pan and some wet straw to burn 
so that the bag's air would stay hot. 
Water and sponges also went aloft, 
se the flames got out of control. In 
October 1788, De Rozicr ascended to the 
dizzying height of 81 feet and remained 
there four and one half minutes, bobbing 
at the end of a tether: he was the first 
man in history to view Paris from the air. 

Ten years later, the sport of balloon- 
ing crossed the Atlantic when another 


Pi 


Frenchman, Jean Pierre Blanchard, in 
a hydrogen balloon, made America's 
first aerial ascent. A Philadelphia news 


paper reporter, obviously carricd away 
by the spirit of the occasion, turned 
in the following story: “Mr. Blanchard 
was dressed in a plin blue suit, a 
cocked hat with a white feather. As soon 
as he was in the gondola, he threw out 
some ballast, then began to ascend slow- 
ly, perpendicularly, while he waved the 
colors of the United States and the 
French Republic and flourished his hat 
to the thousands of ci s who stood 
gratified and astonished at his intrepidity. 
After а few minutes, the wind blowing 
from northwest and westward, the bal- 
Ioon rose to an immense height and then 
shaped its course toward the southward 
and eastward. . . . And various were the 
conjectures as to the place where he 
would descend." The landing site, it 
turned out, was about 15 miles away, just 
east of Woodbury, New Jersey. There, 


after his 46-minute flight, the daring 
Blanchard boarded a carriage and re- 
turned to Philadelphia, where he was 
grected by George Washington, who be- 
came the first American President to per- 
sonally congratulate a space pioneer. 

As ballooning progressed from its in- 
fancy, hot air was replaced by such 
lighter-than-air gases as hydrogen and 
coal gas, since, in those embryonic days of 
flight, it was impossible to carry a safe or 
efficient on-board fuel supply. In add 
tion to stowing straw, early hot-air men 
had used lamb's wool as fuel, and there 
was always the danger of sparks going up 
inside the balloon and igniting the 
hovair ballooning swiftly 
hed in popularity; and for about 
150 years, gas-baggers ruled the skies. 
arly in 1960, however, the Navy award- 
ed Raven Industries in Sioux Falls, 
South Dakota, a contract to build а 
modern version of the Montgolfier bal- 
loon as a training device for student 
blimp pilots. Within a few months, a 
safe hot-air sack was fabricated and test- 
flown. Since then, continued improve- 
ments have been made in the design and 
thousands of flying hours haye been 
logged. Although aluminum and nylon 
are now used in the manufacturing of 
the basket and the bag, the basic Mont- 
golfier principle of hot air for buoyancy 
has remained unchanged. 

Balloons for civilian use and owner- 
ship are now available from Raven—in 
onc, two- and four-passenger capacities, 


with larger units made to order. The 
prices for complete ready-to-fly bags of 
full 


wind—includ istrumentation 
and ground bout $3500, 
$5000 and S6400, respectively, for one-, 
man balloons. Instruction 
license—a document 
you must have—costs another $500 or so. 
Any commercial lighter-than-air-balloon 
pilot can act as a teacher. A student 
must have a logged minimum of eight 
hours’ fiying time: up to six hours can be 
supervised with a licensed balloonist in 
the gondola, but two hours must be solo 
time in the sky. In addition, the Hot Air 
Balloon Club of America, а loosely knit 
nationwide organization of aeronauts, а 
ranges club charters and licensing and 
also leases balloons. For taking, lessons, 
HABGA maintains a fleet that can be 
rented like any other aircraft. A two-man 
balloon rental is $50 an hour, which in- 
cludes two tanks of propane gas and 
both launch and chase crews. (Should 
you have any questions concerning this, 
write to Bill Berry, President, Hot Air 
Balloon Club of America, 3300 Orchard 
Avenue, Concord, California 91590.) 


To get the feel of this highflying 
sport, let's assume you have your license 
and are about to take your skyship 


on its 
ht The first calm day finds 
you heading for an open field that's well 


maiden Й. 


away from power lines or major bodies 
of water. where you can drive an appro 
priate vehicle such as a pickup truck or a 
four-wheel-drive offroad machine. Af 
you unload the balloon and spread it 
out flat on the ground, ready for in- 
flation, start your ground  inflator—a 
powerful gasoline-engine blower that 
throws a shaft of air deep into the bil 
lowing bag. As the balloon swells in size, 
more hands will be needed to keep the 
skirt (the removable section of material 
at the base of the balloon) from flap- 
ping wildly in the man-made wind. Once 
the bag is nearly full, the propane burn 
er mounted at the top of the gondola is 
ignited and the craft is almost ready to 
fly. 

Normal ground “inflation can be ac 
complished by two experienced people 
in five to ten minutes. Having a couple 
of extra friends along, of course, will 
make the task easier. When you're ready 
to take off, your companion climbs 
aboard, all hands let go of the gondola 
and you hit the blast valve, sending a jet 
of Нате up into the balloon. In a few 
seconds, the air temperature inside the 
bag will soar and you'll be free of the 
ground, drifting with the prevailing 
wind. Once aloft, you'll want to take 
reading of the three flight instruments 
built into the gondola; an altimeter, a 
rateoF-climb indicator and a pyrometer. 
This last device is used to monitor the 
temperature of the balloon’s surface at 
the peak of the bag. 


To successfully maneuver a hot-air bal- 
loon, novice acronauts must master the 
technique of heat anticipation, as this is 


what s the craft to ascend and de 
scend. (Obviously, the wind is what pro 
vides the horizontal propulsion.) When 
you hit the blast valve above you. the 
burst of llame that shoots into tlie nylon 
envelope soon heats the captive air to a 
temperature that's higher than that of 
the surrounding atmosphere, and up you 
go. The opposite, of course, occurs if you 
release the gas valve too long and the bag, 
cools down. To illustrate this point, let's 
say that you've just taken off, planning 
to peak at 500 feet. Probably, your first 
reaction will be to hold the flame on 
too long, and up you'll go past 500 feet 
to 1000. Because you're at an altitude 
higher than expected, you'll probably ler 
the bag temperature cool too long. This 
time, down you go, perhaps to 200 feet 
With a few hours of practice flying, you'll 
learn how to level out at various altitudes 
by anticipating your airship's reactions. 
You'll be happy to know that hot-air 
balloons have a builtin safety factor: 
should you run out of propane fuel— 
something that’s very unlikely but possi- 
ble—the balloon will stay inflated while 
descending. And because the volume of 
air in the bag is so great, small holes 
or tears have practically mo effect on 


“Oh, oh . 


. . pollution!” 


95 


PLAYBOY 


96 


performance. You will want to get them 
repaired, of course. 

Landing is relatively simple. The pilot 
maintains a low altitude until he's above 
а suitable-looking field. Then he uses 
the fuel valve, as described, to control the 
final rate of descent. (А vent called the 
hoo-hoo, located on one side of the bal- 
loon, can also be pulled open for an 
extra-quick response.) Upon landing, the 
balloon is collapsed by pulling a rip cord 
that peels open a deflation port located 
in the crown. (Aeronauts call this pop- 
ping the top) Or, if it's a calm day and 
you plan to fly again, you can tether the 
craft with two lines, turn the burner 
low and, stays calm, the bag will sit 
there like a big colorful ball, bouncing 
slightl: the breeze. 

For a day of ballooning, you'll want to 
dress in comfortable clothes and tennis 
shoes. And if it’s summer, you won't 
need a heavy jacket; the burner above 
you will keep the gondola pleasantly 
warm. But there's one additional ingredi- 
ent needed to ensure the success of a 
hot-air ball—an ample supply of the 
bubbly. Champagne is the traditional 
drink of balloonists and the only potable 
that can match the intoxicating kick of 
the sport. The French, who invented 
both balloons and champagne, and who 
know that the latter's buoyant effects are 
equally delightful on the ground and in 
the sky, appreciate the pleasures of a 
midmorning champagne toast. Before 
the ascent, its effervescence will make 
everyone feel lighter than air. And after 
the landing, champagne both signalizes 
and celebrates the completed trip; it's 
a perfect thirst quencher and an aperitif 
before the landing picnic. 

Toasting a launch is a sparkling mo- 
ment for all concerned but not the occa- 
sion for spending hours appraising the 
fine differences among various vintages. 
And you needn't carry а cargo of 
crushed ice to have cold champagne for 
a balloon party, The best technique is to 
chill it in the refrigerator overnight, 
then wrap it in several layers of alumi- 
num foil and secrete it in an insulated 
tote bag. Crumpled paper or excelsior 
тау be used to keep the bottles from 
bouncing against one another on rough 
terrain, and a can or two of refrigerant. 
may be placed in the bag for added 
insurance. 

АП picnic preparations—except making 
the collec for the vacuum jug—should be 
completed the day before the party. As 
the host, you shouldn't hesitate to delc- 
gate food-and drink assignments to others 
in your crowd. They'll enjoy playing a 
part in the festivities. The picnic baskets 
should be packed with foods of substance 
that show imagination—roast rack of 
lamb, for instance, that can be held in 
the hand for hungriertham-usual appe- 
tiles, or chicken coated with chopped al- 
monds, rather than the usual bread 


crumbs, before frying. A cold curried 
shrimp soup or a gazpacho, as well as 
summer fruits in season and iced coffee, 
will appease the special thirsts balloon 
pilots and their first mates always devel- 
op after a horair ride in the boundless 
blue. If you own an outfitted wicker 
basket, you won't have to worry about 
lugging along outdoor eating and drink- 
ing equipment, although it's a good idea 
to check the menu item by item to make 
sure everything is in order, such as two 
sets of drinkingware if you're having 
both soup and coffee. 

Toward sundown, yowll be ready to 
descend (ballooning after dark—except 
on a short tether—is not the way to fly) 
for cocktails and dinner under the same 
serene sky in which you floated earlier in 
the day. The evening meal is planned 
as а lazy long feast beside a charcoal fire. 
By the time the stars are beginning to 
appear, it will be sufficiently dark to 
appreciate the blue flames of cognac and 
Irish Mist licking a pan of sizzli 

Here, then, arc PLAYBOY 
Drink Editor Thomas Mario's sugges 
tions for what to prepare as tasty picnic 
totables and, later, for the grand-finale 
evening meal. 


Balloon Picnic I 


Gold Curried Shrimp Soup 

Cold Roast Rack of Lamb 

Dutch Potato Salad 

Sliced Beefsteak Tomatoes 

Brendand-Butter Sandwiches 

Brie Cheese, Crackers, Whole 
Fresh Elberta Peaches 

Iced Coffee 


COLD CURRIED SHRIMP souP 
(Serves four) 


Ib. raw shrimps in shell 
Salt, pepper 

Juice of 4 lemon 

14 cup diced onion 

14 cup diced leeks, white part only 

2 tablespoons butter 

34 cup sliced potatoes 

1% cups mil 

% cup light cream 

2 teaspoons curry powder 

Wash shrimps and place in saucepan 
with 2y4 cups cold water, М teaspoon 
salt and lemon juice. Slowly bring to a 
boil; turn off heat and let sit for 10 
minutes, Remove shrimps from pan with 
slotted spoon, leaving cooking liquid in 
pan. Remove shrimp shells and vein run- 
ning through back; return the shells ıo 
cooking liquid and simmer slowly 20 min- 
utes. Strain; discard shells. In another 
pan, sauté onion and leeks in butter 
until onion is light yellow. Add shrimp 
stock and potatoes; simmer very slowly 
until potatoes are tender. Add milk and 
cream and slowly bring up to boiling 
point; remove from fire. Dissolve curry 
powder in 2 tablespoons cold water and 
add to soup. Cut shrimps crosswisc 


Vein. slices and add to soup; let cool 
for about an hour. Place in blender—in 
several batches, if necessury—and blend 
until smooth. Add salt and pepper to 
taste. Chill overnight. Check soup for 
thickness thin with added milk, it 
necessary. 


COLD ROAST RACK OF LAMB 


A rack of lamb is the section from 
which the rib lamb chops are cut. Buy a 
double rack, separated into halves, for 
four portions. Have the butcher remove 
the backbone for easy carving. Remove 
the meat from the refrigerator at least an 
hour before roasting. Sprinkle with salt 
and pepper. Place in a preheated oven at 
400° in a shallow roasting pan and roast 
34 hour or until meat thermometer reg- 
isters 1607. Let rack remain at room 
temperature about an hour before carv- 
ing. Carve roast into chops; wim ends of 
bones for easy handling or for chop 
holders. Chill well. Bottled mint sauce or 
a mixture of red-currant jelly and bot 
tled mint sauce is a refres 

Dutch potato salad is fi 
bacon and made sweet and sour 
vinegar sugar. Chopped bacon, on- 
ion and leeks are sautéed together until 
onions and leeks turn yellow. The bacon 
takes the place of the usual mayon- 
naise or oil Boiled sliced potatoes are 
combined with the bacon mixture, sea 
soned with vinegar, sugar and mustard 
and, if you wish, chopped hard-boiled 
egg. Be generous with the silt and pep- 
per and chill well before packing into 
the picnic basket. 

Allow one or two beefsteak tomatoes 
per person, depending on the size. Be 
sure brie cheese is soft ripe. Allow two 
large ripe Elberta peaches per person. 
Сойсе should be brewed double strength 
before it’s diluted with ice cubes and 
poured the prechilled Thermos 
container. 


with 


into 


Balloon Picnic 11 


Gazpacho 
Cold Breast of Chicken with Almonds 
Rice Salad with Olives and Peppers 
Pickled French String Beans 

Club Rolls, Water-Cress Butter 

Fresh Strawberries, Melba Sauce 

Iced Coffee 


GAZFACHO 
(Serves four) 
1 Ib. ripe fresh tomatoes 
1 cup diced cucumber 
1 cup diced French bread 
2 cups cold water 
М cup sliced scallions 
14 cup diced green pepper 
14 cup olive oil 
14 cup red-wine vinegar 
Salt, pepper 
Lower tomatoes into boiling water for 
20 seconds, Hold under cold running 
(continued on page 182) 


ИД УД? 


"OV S^ ы ee 


ТНЕ 
CLARK 
EXPEDITION 


to sample life тп another cultu 
sharon clark chooses a remote 
pacific hideaway 


5 


THE MICKONESIAN ARCHIPELAGO of Truk 
would have fired the imagination of 
Joseph Conrad: several dozen luxuri- 
antly tropical isles, linked only by fuel 
ships that traverse the intervening 
waterways once every few months, bear- 
ing provisions ranging from cigarettes 
to rice. Moen, the second-largest is- 
land, is a roughhewn American outpost 
and is graced, improbably enough, 
such rare fauna as Sharon Olivi: 

It's a long way (about 8000 milcs) from 
Norman, Oklahoma, w e Sharon 
earned her degree in sociology; from 
St. Louis, where she later read manu- 
scripts for a publisher of medical texts; 


PASSPORT AGENCY 
< 


On the eve of her trip to Micronesia, Sharon 
arrives ot LA's Federal Building with her 
passport photographs, plus the health card 
that indicates she's had the necessary shals. 


Abave: Sharon refreshes herself with a few 
sips of cocanut milk. Left: Doing what comes 
naturally ta any resident of an island poro- 
dise, aur coral-framed Miss August—on ac- 

ied aquanaut who's alsa at hame on 
water skis—goes snorkeling in the crystal- 
clear water near Maen's largest village. 


The last step їп the necessary business of securing c passport is swearing allegiance to the — There's no turning back now, as 5һсгоп— 
United States. This completed, a weary Sharon removes her shoes as she leaves the premises; with a smile that belies her anxiety— 
besides spending the past few days in preparation for her journey, she’s been staying up finally steps on board the plane that 
nights to read about the customs of Micronesia and to study her Molay-English dictionary. will transport her to an unfamiliar world. 


Ш 


Above: Shaded by a palm tree, Sharon 
adjusts her snorkel and wonders if her 
next dive will uncover a sunken treasure. 
Right: The equatorial flora of Truk is very 
much in evidence, with palms crowding the 
water, as Koichy Maipi, a Moen Islander, 
takes Sharon for a sail in his canoe. 


and from Los Angeles, where she маз 
living when she decided to strike out 
for more exotic regions. Inviting us 
along for the ride, Sharon went native 
carlier this year to experience life as 
it's lived on an “island paradise" in the 
Pacific and to teach English to local 
high school students. The quality of life 
on Moen, Sharon quickly discovered, is 
very different from that in the States: 
“Home” is a Quonset hut (so is the 
classroom where she works); transporta- 
tion on the otherwise impassable roads 
is by motorcycle; and the mercantile 
community in her village consists of a 
general store, a commissary where fro- 
zen meat is sold, plus three other estab- 
lishments that deal in canned goods. 
"The climate is idyllic; the temperature 
averages 85 degrees and the lagoons are 
bluer than blue. Yet since our return 
to the States soon after shooting the ac- 
companying picture story, Sharon wrote 
(Moen can’t be reached by telephone) 
that there's trouble in paradise—a cir- 
cumstance she attributes to the Ameri- 
can Government, which administers 
‘Truk under a trusteeship. In addition 
to introducing the tin can and other 
pollutants, American culture has done 
much, in Sharon's opinion, to under- 
mine the Trukese way of life: "Instead 
of helping the natives develop their 
fisheries, the Americans are giving them 
Government jobs and turning Tru 
to a bureaucratic welfare state. We've 
taken our own economy and set it down 
on top of theirs. The locals accept this, 
but with undertones of resentment 
Апа the presence of the Peace Corps, 
she feels, does little to counteract the 
effects of this subtle colonialism: Too 
few of the Corps men are involved in 
the crucial fishing industry. What ag- 
gravates the situation and gives the 
future a gloomy cast, Sharon says, is a 
Jack of communication between the ad- 
ministrators from across the sea and 
their charges—who, she claims, "act 
sluggish when they're around the Amer- 
icans, giving them the mistaken impres- 
sion, after a while, that the islanders 
are all lazy.” Sharon recognizes, however, 
that the American way of life, which 
seems so out of place in Truk, is her 
own: "I've learned that I don't really 
groove on the ‘simple life-—much as I 
hate to see it destroyed. I like to see cars 
moving on four-lane highways. I miss 
the movies and skiing trips; I сусп miss 
the changes in climate.” Sharon is also 
frustrated by her teaching job: “It’s 
difficult to find reading matter in Eng- 
lish that's relevant to these kids" Ac- 
cordingly, despite her afiection for the 
islanders, Sharon is planning to return 
to the States But she doesn't regret 
her adventure; it’s given her a new 
appreciation not only of America's 
fast-paced culture but also of the need 
to apply the brakes on occasion and 
take time out for a selfrenewing 
interlude of ease—South Pacific style. 


GATEFOLD PHOTOGRAPHY BY 
BILL FIGGE AND ED DELONG 


On a sight-seeing tour of Moen, Sharon tokes a group of youngsters to visit on abandoned 
Јаропеѕе lighthouse, one of the many relics of World War Two (others include guns 
ranged about the hillside ond sunken ships in the nearby waters). From the tower, Sharon 
can see most of the islond; but, despite its beauty, she’s thinking about returning home. 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


А man returned. from a convention and 
proudly showed his wife a gallon of bourbon 
he'd won for having the largest sex organ of 
all present. "What!" she CELO ons you 
mean to tell me you exhibited yourself in front 
of all those. people?" 

“Only enough to win, darling,” he replied. 
"Only enough to win.” 


We know а waggish historian who says that 
George Washington was the only President who 
didn't blame the previous Admi 
all of his troubles. 


A plain-looking coed home from school on 
summer vacation calmly confessed to her moth- 
er that she lost her virginity last semester. 
"How did it happen?” gasped the parent. 


“Well, it wasn't easy,” the girl admitted, 
“but three of my sorority sisters helped hold 
him down.” 


And, of course, you've heard about the lady 
lawyer who moonlighted as a callgirl. She was 
a prostituting attorney. 


The pretty patient nervously asked the doctor 
to perform an unusual operation—the removal 
of a large chunk of green wax from her navel. 
Looking up from the ticklish task, the physi- 
cian asked, "How did this happen?" 

“Well, you see, doctor," the girl said, “шу 
boyfriend likes to eat by candlelight." 


On a road ten miles from Palermo, an Ameri- 
can motorist was stopped by a masked deg 
ado, who, brandishing a revolver, demanded, 
in a thick Sicilian accent, that he get out of 
the car. 

The motorist obeyed, pleading, “Take my 
money, my car, but don't kill те!" 

"I no killa you," replied the brigand, " 
you do what 1 say." Whereupon, he told ns 
motorist to unzip and masturbate then and 
there. Though shocked, the motorist did what 
he was told. 

“Good,” said the masked stranger. “Now-a 
do it again.” The motorist protested, but the 
gun was menacingly waved, so, with extreme 
difficulty, he repeated the act. 

"Again," commanded the desperado, "or I 
killa you!" Summoning superhuman resources, 
the exhausted motorist Portnoyed himself yet 
a third time. 

The bandit gave an order and a beautiful 
young girl stepped from behind the rocks. 
“Now,” said the highwayman, “you can give-a 
my sister a ride to town!" 


Desperate for work, the young man took a job 
at the тоо masquerading as a gorilla, to replace 
the prize animal who had died. The fellow 
launched into his act with gusto, screaming at 
the top of his lungs and swinging madly from 
the bars. The crowd applauded wildly. In- 
spired, he grabbed a bar and went sailing 
over the top of his cage into an adjoining pen 
occupied by four fierce lions. As the animals 
approached him, the chap screamed, "Help, 
they're going to kill me." 

"Shut up. stupid," whispered one of the 
lions, “or we'll all lose our jobs.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines mourner as 
the same as "nooner'—only sooner. 


Said an old maid one fondly remembers, 
“Now my days are quite clearly Septembers. 
“All my fires have burned low, 
"I'll admit that it's so, 
“But you still might have fun in the embers.” 


We also know a hip couple who mixed LSD 
with an aphrodisiac and spent the night mak- 
ing love on the ceiling. 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines alcoholic 
actor as а ham оп rye. 


The 17-year-old girl had just been told by her 
physician that she was pregnant. “If only I'd 
gone to the movies with my parents that 
night,” she lamented. 

"Well, why didn’t you?" the doctor asked. 

“I couldn't," the girl sobbed. “The film was 
rated X." 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines bachelor as 
а fellow who prefers to ball without the chain. 


As the young newlywed was telling a girlfriend 
how she had successfully taught her husband 
some badly needed manners, he suddenly 
dashed into the living room and said breath- 
lessly, “Come on, honey, let’s fuck.” 

The friend sat stunned as the husband 
scooped his bride into his arms and carried her 
into the bedroom. Some time later, the girl 
returned, smiling and adjusting her clothing. 
"Sce what I mcan?" she beamed. “A week ago, 
he wouldn't have asked!” 


Heard a good one lately? Send it on a post- 
card to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, Playboy 
Building, 919 N. Michigan Ave, Chicago, 
ТІ. 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


"Minotaurs ате human, too, honey bunch!" 


107 


PLAYBOY 


STAR-SPANGLED JIVE 


was a useless, bloody bore for at least 99 
the less said about 
amese thing the better. 

Why, then, does World War Two 
stand by itself in historical annals? 

When I was taking basic training, 1 
recall being shown a series of films ti- 
Ued Why We Fight. Each one invariably 


began a voice-over prod : 
“There is а good world and there is a 
bad world. d that about summed 


it up. We were the good guys. they were 
the bad guys. We had a job to do. Our 
very survival was at stake. When, 
throughout the ages, has any issue stood 
out more clearly? 

So we went about doing а dirty but 
necessary job. We bought War Bonds, we 
collected aluminum pots, we became air 
raid wardens or we went olf to fight, 
praying for the lights to go on again all 
over the world, so that we could all come 
home wearing discharge pins (or “rup- 
tured ducks,” as we lovingly called them) 
and resume our places in а peaceful 
society. 

In those days, there was по anti-war 
crowd to speak of and just about all of 
us gladly did our part. To help lighten 
the load and point us in the right direc 
tion was the cver-faithful Tin-Pan Alley, 
supplying us with such stirring songs as 
Remember Pearl Harbor, We Did It 
Before (And We Can Do It Again) and 
Praise the Lord and Pass the Ammu- 
nition. Also some less memorable but no 
less colorful ditties, such as Goodbye 
Mama, I’m Off to Yokohama, We're 


Gonna Take a Slap at the Dirty Little 
Jap and Der Führer's Face. 
But the 


most effective medium for 
ng a great cause was by far 
And that, of course, 
was where Hollywood came along to tell 
us what it was all about. By skillfully 
diluting strong doses of Americanism 
with liberal heaps of entertainment, the 
film makers got the message across loud. 
and clear. To those nonbelievers, 1 
strongly recommend turning to the raft 
of early-Forties films that still brighten 
the late-show channels. As for me, I don't 
need to help me keep the 
faith. I need merely reach into a special 
crevice of my mind and I get instant 
feedback. In all honesty, 1 can't recall 
any one specific World War Two film. 
To me, they were all one delicious pas- 
tiche of Gls, itriotism and songs, 
and they went something like this: 

Open with stock sors of Pearl Harbor 
being bombed, Japanese soldiers attack- 
ing, German soldiers marching, President 
Roosevelt addressing Congress, American 
Servicemen training, American soldiers 
marching, etc. 

FADE OUT and сот то Union Station tn 


televisioi 


108 Los Angeles. As a train is pulling out, we 


(continued [rom page 97) 

see three men standing in the station 
with duffel bags al their feet. They ате 
LON MCCALLIsTER, а clean-cut, earnest 
young Army private; DANE CLARK, @ gum- 
chewing, jive-talking sailor; and JOHN 
WAYNE, a tough, laconic Marine corporal. 
MCCALLISTER (visibly awed): Golly, 
who'd'a thought when I was a farm boy 
down in Hot Point, Indiana, that I'd ever 
get to the film capital of the world? . . . 
(Looking around) Gosh, this is exciting. 
CLARK (chewing his gum vigorously): 
Wait'll you see what it's like outside the 
station, soldier. 

MCCALLISTER: Golly, I can hardly wait. 
. . . (Extends his hand) By the way, I'm 
Privatc Bob Kinkaid. 

CLARK: Gimme some skin, my friend. . . . 
(Shaking wc CALLISTER's hand) Everyone 
calls me Brooklyn. And this here (indi- 
. (WAYNE nods) 
MCCALISTER: Hi, Brooklyn and Texas. 
Say, I just got a swell idea. Why don't 
the three of us do the town together? 
CLARK (enthused): Solid, Jackson! 

CLARK and wayne start to pick up 
their duffel bags. Mecatrisrer doesn’t 
move yel. He is apparently still over- 
whelmed by the situation as well as the 
train station. 

CLARK: You coming, dogface? 
MCCALLISTER: In a minute. You know, I 
was just thinking. . . . (CUT то CLOSE-UP 
of his face) 1 mean, here we are... a 
doughboy, a gob and a leatherneck. 
(Soft, stirring music begins to build in 
the background) Three guys from three 
different worlds. Suddenly buddies, That's 
what it's all about, isn't it? I mean, that's. 
what I'm fighting for. What are you 
fighting for, Brooklyn? 

CLARK puts down his duffel bag and 
spits out his gum. He is very serious now, 
as he looks dreamily off into the distance 
and the music increases in tempo. 
CLARK: Me? What am I fighting for? Let 
me see. ... 1 guess it's for the right to 
watch a golden sunset over Bensonhurst. 
. .. The right to bean the ump with a 
pop bottle at Ebbets Field. . . . That 
cockeyed carrousel in Coney Island. . . . 
The scent of s n Prospect 
Park. . . . The right to stroll down Flat- 
bush Avenue in my zoot suit. 
MCCALLISTER (swept along now in the 
tide of reverie): Zoot suit? Say, Гус got 
one of those at home, too. Mine has a 
reet pleat. 

CLARK: Mine, too. Does yours 
drape shape? 

MC CALLISIER: You said it. Also a stuffed 
cuff. Hey, Brooklyn, when did you used 
to wear your zoot suit? 

CLARK (fighting back tears): When do 
you think? When I went to see my 
Sunday gal. . . . (Music crescendos, then 
stops) That's what I'm fighting for. 

CLARK arid MC CALLISTER stare at each 
other silently for а moment, too over- 


a 


whelmed to speak. MCCALLISTER. then 
turns to WAYNE, 

MC CALLISTER: What about you, Texas? 
What are you fighting for? (He puts his 
arm affectionately around the Marine's 
shoulder) 

WAYNE: Me? I'd just like to kill me some 
Japs. 

MC CALLISTER (withdrawing his arm): Oh. 
CLARK: Look, enough of this gab fest. 
What are you guys planning to do today? 
MC CALLIsTER (looking around eagerly): 
Shucks, I got so many great things 
mind, 1 hardly know where to start. First 
I thought I'd have a double chocolate 
malt, then I'd go over to the U.S.O. and 
play some ping-pong. Then I'd write а 
letter to my best ра]... and then — 

cLark: Hey, Jackson, you got a picture 
of your best gal? 

MCcALLISTER: Sure thing. (He reaches 
into his pocket, takes out his wallet, 
opens it and displays a picture) There 
she is. 

CLARK: Solid. But she's a little older than 
you, ain't she? 

мє cauuisrex (blushing): Shucks, she 
should be. She's my mom. . . . (He futs 
the wallet back into his pocket) 

CLARK (to WAYNE): What were you plan- 
ning to do, Texas? 

wayne: I thought maybe I'd catch me 
some shut-eye. Then maybe hunt me 
down some Nips. 1 hear this town is 
loaded with Jap gardeners. 

CLARK (visibly peeved): What is it with 
you hepcats, anyway? I sort of had some- 
thing else in mind for today. 

WAYNE: Like what? 

A beautiful саки. goes strolling by. 
CLARK: Like that, for instance. Watch me 
strut my stuft. 

CLARK walks up to the GIRL and emits 

a loud, long whistle. 
силик: Hubbzhubba! Hey, cutie-pie, 
what do you say you and me cut a mg? 
сїт. (slapping his face): Wolf! (She walks 
away) 
CLARK (rubbing 
stand it. That 
(WAYNE and MC CALLISTER laugh good. 
naturedly) 

An elderly white vorx comes up to 
them, 
porter: Excuse me, fellows. I couldn't 
help noticing you standing around with 
nothing to do. Why don't you go over to 
the Hollywood Canteen? 

MC CALLISTER: The Hollywood Canteen? 

CLARK: What's that? 

PORTER: It’s a place set up by the film 

industry for you boys in the Service, 

where you can cat and dance and be 

entertained. 

MC CALLISTER: That sounds swell. 

CLARK (reaching into his pockel): Yeah, 

but I'm a little short of doremi. You 

know, twenty-one dollars a day once a 

month don't go very far. 

PORTER: Аге you kidding? It’s all free. 
(continued on page 160) 


Navy-and-mustord 
crinkled patent leather with striped laces 
by halio, $25. 


PLAYBOY 


n2 


А SMALL DEATH (ear кесле) 


their whistles. Ahead of them came a 
second wave of marchers, shouting and 
singing. Moving to the curb, Peter made 
out what was written on one of the 
billowing streamers. He felt slightly let 
down. It was only a student demonstra- 
tion for better housing at the Cité Uni- 
versitaire. The police were trying to break 
it up. He could hear them growling at 
the demonstrators, who laughed and 
jected back. Behind Peter, in the glass 
enclosed terrace of the corner са! 
people were standing on chairs to get a 
better view. At the far end of the street, 
near the Montparnasse station, he could 
see still more police alighting from a 
Black Maria and he grasped the strategy: 
"They were trying to hem the students in. 

The crowd on the sidewalk was aug- 
menting; those behind were beginning 
to shove. A very tall blond boy in a 
turtleneck sweater and tight gray thin 
jacket edged in next to him on the curb; 
Peter was starting to be concerned for 
the safety of his plant. "C'est beau, 
hein?" said the boy, surveying the specta- 
cle. The police һай moved in on the 
marchers, in salients, swinging their 
capes. Mentally, Peter compared this airy 
ballet with the behavior of the police at 
home, hitting out with night sticks; for 
the first time, he approved thoroughly of 
the French. They had made an art of it, 
he decided, as he watched a line of 
students break and scatter as the harm- 
less capes descended. In these fall ma- 
neuvers between youth and authori 
the forces were evenly matched, the stu- 
dents having the advantage of numbers 
and the police, like matadors, that of 
dexterity. If he had had two free hands, 
he would have applauded. He slightly 
lowered his plant, зо аз not to obstruct 
the view for those in his rear. 
As he did so, he heard a discordant 
sound of disapproval or derision, like 
the American raspberry; а policeman on 
the pavement whirled around and stared 
at Peter and his neighbor, whose face 
wore a sleepy, ironical smile, like that of 
a large pale cat. In a moment, the sound 
was repeated, and again the policeman 
whirled; the tall boy's drooping eyelid 
winked enigmatically at Peter—he was a 
strange-looking person, with high cheek- 
bones, a snub nose and colorless beetling 
eyebrows that seemed to express perplex- 
ity. Peter, who liked to play the game of 
guessing nationalities, decided that he 
could not be French. A Russian, maybe, 
whose father worked at the embassy? 
Then the boy spoke, in a slow, plaintive 
n Makowski. University of 
Chicago. Student of Oriental languages. 
Pleased to meet you." He had a strong 
demotic Middle Western accent. 

Peter introduced himself. *I thought 
you were Russian," he said. 

Makowski stuck out his lower lip, as 


voice. 


though considering the accusation. “I'm 
stiffly. "Born in 
‘chose frccdom" 
. I went to grammar 
school for a while here, but he couldn't 
make it in France; we just about starved. 
Now he teaches political science at CI 
cago. Full professor." 

me here!" cried Peter. “1 mean, 
my father's а professor and he used to be 
a refugee.” Makowski did not appear to 
find this an especially striking со 
dence. “This is great, isn't it” Peter 
continued. looking around him. "Com- 
pared with those Cossacks back home, I 
mean. This is more like a game. Every- 
body here is having a ball. 

"You think so?" Peter followed the 
other's frowning, derisory gaze. The line 
of students with the streamer had rc- 
formed. "The flics charged them, sti 
right and left with their capes. A line of 
blood appeared on the cheek of one of 
the students; a second student fell to the 
ground. Peter could see no sign of a 
weapon and he looked at his neighbor, 
who stood with folded arms, for enlight- 
enment, The police struck again. Then 
Peter understood, There was lead in 
those pretty blue capes; he had read 
about that somewhere, he now recalled, 
disgusted at his own simplicity. The stu- 
dents were counterattacking, ducking the 
flailing capes. He could distinguish three 
principal battle points їп the confusion. 
Makowski nudged him. They watched a 
boy aim a kick at a cop's balls; the cop. 
caught his foot and swung him around 
by the leg, then let him drop. There was 
blood on the sueet Behind Peter, a 
woman was calling shame on the police. 
A flowerpot came hurtling down from a 
high balcony—po: . Two 
policemen rushed into the building. Pc- 
ter's hand tightened on his own clay pot: 
he selected a target—a tall red-haired 
gendarme who would make an easy 
mark. Then wiser counsel—if that was 
what it was—prevailed; his grip relaxed 
and he started to get the shakes. His 
hands were sweaty. He might have killed 
a man a few seconds ago—the cop or 
even a student. "Peter Levi, murderer.” 
The thought was strange to him and not 
unimpressive, though scary. He glanced 
curiously at Makowski, judicious, with 
curled lower lip, by his side, a simple, 
scowling spectator. Nobody but Peter 
himself seemed to be particularly in- 
volved with what was going on. Clerks in 
their bright-blue blouses de travail had 
left their counters and lined up on the 
sidewalk to watch; concierges, with their 
mutts, were standing in their doorways: 
shopkeepers, concerned for their proper- 
ty, were pulling down their iron blinds. 

The students broke and began to run, 
pursued by the police. A youth was passed, 
headlong, from cop to cop, and deposited 


in a new Black Maria that had pulled up 
оп the corner, just beyond а flower cart, 
at the Métro entrance. The police were 
working fast. "Nazi" yelled someone be- 
hind Peter at a flic who was tripping a 
student. Two flics pushed past Peter and 
seized the offender, a young kid of about 
16. When he resisted, they slugged him. 
"Nazi" “Nazi!” Peter turned his head, 
but he could not locate where the voice 
or voices in a funny falsetto were coming 
from. People were looking in his direc- 
tion; he asked himself whether his plant 
could be acting as an aerial. 

Then he noticed that Makowski was 
slightly moving his lips. A ventriloquist! 
He wondered whether the Pole was crazy, 
playing a trick like that in a crowd, when 
he could get innocent bystanders а 
rested, “Cut it out,” he muttered. 

Now the demonstrators were darting 
through the throng, wherever they could 
find an opening, dropping their stream- 
ers and placards as they fled into the 
side streets, into the Métro, into the 
Magasins Réunis up the block. And i 
stead of just letting them go, the police 
were hunting them down, aided by em- 
battled concierges and their shrilly bark- 
ing dogs. They were piling everybody 
they could catch into the Black Marias. 
Hungry for prey. they began to grab 
foreign students coming out of the Alli- 
ance Francaise, youths coming up from 
the Métro and blinking with surp 
in the sunlight. As far as Peter could tell, 
their idea was to arrest anything that 
moved in the area between the ages of 
16 - He supposed that he and 
Makowski owed their immunity to the 
act that they were stationary. 

What shocked him, as an American, 
was that the demonstrators, once cap- 
tured, showed no signs of civic resent- 
ment. They did not go limp, like civil 
rights workers, but hopped into the pad 
dy wagons without further protest; it was 
as if they had been tagged in a game of 
prisoner's base. In the paddy wagon on 
the corner, the majority were laughing 
and downing; two were playing card 
one, with a bloody kerchief tied aroun 
his head, was reading a book. Only the 
Nordic types from the Alliance Fran 
were giving their captors an argument, 
which appeared to amuse the French 
kids, as though being a foreigner and 
falsely arrested were funny. 

Detestation for all and sundry was 
making Peter nauseated. The rights of 
man were being violated, in the most 
elementary way, in broad daylight, be- 
fore the eyes of literally hundreds of 
citizens, and nobody a finger 
to help. At home, if this had happened 
round Columbia, say, there would be 
dozens of volunteer witnesses telling the 
cops to lay off, threatening to call up 
the mayor or their Congressman or thc 
l Liberties Union; at home, citizens 

(continued on page 181) 


PLAYBOY PLAYS THE BOND MARKET 


article By MICHAEL LAURENCE а common-sense guide to the ins and 
outs—and the ups and downs—of that venerable coupon-clipping game 


WHEN THE VICE-PRESIDENT of a big Wall Suet investment firm recently described the bond 
market as "a great American tragedy," he was not exaggerating. Day after dreary day this 
past May and carly June. virtually every bond in the country enjoyed a market value less 
than its purchaser had paid for it. The money tied up in bonds was more than suflicient to 
retire the national debt and hardly a penny of it represented profit. The collapse was so total 
that it could only compare with the great stockmarket crash 40 years carlier. Between August 
1968 and May 1970, corporate bonds—traditional shelter for widows and orphans—fell an 
average of 30 percent; ipal bonds—those issued by cities and towns—fell 34 percent. In 
both cases, this was the worst decline of the 20th Century. 

But one man’s tragedy can be another's good fortune. The investors burned in the bond 
crash were mostly those who could well afford i Ithy individuals and even 
wealthier institutions. Only recently have smaller investors been drawn to bonds, though the 
impact has been profound. The best current estimates i 
ing their bond holdings at а rate close to 30 billion dol 
widow and orphan in the country. More remarkable yet, chances seem good that these new- 
comers will profit—perhaps considerably. Crashes in any market are traditionally followed by 
bargains. Historically high interest rates and historically low bond prices may be offering 
investors the sort of opportunity that comes but once or twice in a lifetime. At the least, cur- 
rent or would-be investors ought to find out what bonds are all about, 

А bond is an interest-paying 1. O. U- The borrower is usually a corporation or a Govern- 
ment agency and the lender can be anyone who has money to lend at interest. The totals in- 
volved are astronomical, but for symmetry's sake, they are divided into $1000 units. In return 
for each $1000 it receives, the borrower provides an engraved certificate, therein promising to 
pay the bondholder a fixed rate of interest (usually twice a year) and to repay the $1000 at 
the expiration of the contract (the maturity date), which might be 20 or even 40 years off. A 
few bond certificates represent amounts other than 51000, but these are a tiny minority and, 
lor purposes of discussion, it's convenient and not terribly misleading to assume that all bonds 
involve $1000 amounts. 

"To sell its 1. О. U.s successfully, the borrower must be willing to pay an interest rate suf- 
ficiently high to attract money from would-be lenders. In this treemarket process, in which 
borrowers and lenders haggle over prices and finally reach agreement, the ever-changing cost 
of moncy—the general interest rate established. Once a bo i 
is fixed for life. A $1000 bond yielding eight percent, for in 
come of $80 a year, по more and no less, until it m. terest rate is not 
fixed. It fluctuates daily, even hourly. And since a bond represents a fixed stream of income, 
its resale value alter it is issued goes up or down according to fluctuations in the general 
interest rate. 

An example should make this dea 
cisely 51000. а 914-percent bond recently aboard F Jompany, one of the 
largest personal-loan firms. This particular bond matures in 1990, so today's buyer is assured 
of an income of $92.50 а усаг (914 percent of $1000) for 20 years, after which (if he still owns 
the bond) he'll get his $1000 back. 

Il he wanted his $1000 prior to 1990, he'd have to sell his bond in the open market, in 
much the same way that he would sell a stock. As with stocks, bonds on the open market are 
worth only what others will pay for them. In the bond market, buyers are usually willing to 
pay prices that closely coincide with the prevailing interest rate. If that rate were to remain at 
914 percent, then а bond with an income of $92.50 a year would continue to have а market 
value of $1000 and the purchaser of the Seaboard 914-percenter would break even when he 
sold. But if the prevailing interest rate were to rise, say, to 12 percent, an income of 392.50 
a year would no longer be worth $1000. At 12 percent, $92.50 a year could be nailed down 
for around 5770, and that’s just about what the Seaboard bond would sell for. And if the 
prevailing interest rate should decline, say, from nine percent to six percent, an investor 
would have to pay over $1500 for an income of $02.50 а year. So, (continued on page 191) 


nensely we 


n investor can pure for pre- 


—————————— I) 


А 


À 
о 
© 

TE 


a 
© 
a 


ALL SDE. 
HEEDS 
D LOVE, 


which is why janis joplin 
has to get on a stage 
and sing those gully-low 
blues to thousands 

of grooving admirers 


AFTER she had become famous 
and was living atop a hill in 
San Francisco, the picture was 
pinned to the wall, along with 
a sooty American flag, a DYLAN 
FOR PRESIDENT banner and a 
poster of archhippie James 
Gurley in American Indian 
dress. It shows her as a shiny- 
cheeked girl in Mary Jane 
shoes and white bobby socks, 
hair cropped short. She stands 
before a white frame house, 
hier eyes squinching up in tell- 
tale fashion, as she proudly 
holds wp a Sunday-school grad- 
ш n certificate from the 
First Christian Church of Port. 
Arthur, Те: 

A generation or two have 
come and gone since the pic- 
ture, and Janis Joplin, one of 
the world's leading pop sing- 
ers, is now 27. Her albums 
Cheap Thrills and Kozmic 
Blues are both gold records, 
having sold over $1,000,000 
worth cach. She was voted 
top female vos n the 1970 
Playboy Jazz & Pop Poll. Her 
style has been called blue-eyed 
soul and sometimes rock-blues, 
and those are fine definitions, 
though hardly complete. Hear 
her once and you can't quite 
forget her—even if you try. 

I heard her for the first 
time several years ago, when 
she was appearing at a ratty, 
three-quarters-filled exmovie- 
house in New York (not the 
Fillmore Fast) with Big Broth- 
er and the Holding Company. 
Нег performance then was 
memorable, but what im- 
presed me most was the style 


114 of the person—a white, cara- 


mel-haired girl with а strong 
Texas twang, dressed in seam- 
splitting red-velvet slacks, swig- 
ging booze onstage like a 
stevedore and saying the 
first breathy little thing that 
popped into her head. She 
has since outgrown Big Broth- 
er. She has traveled to Eu- 
rope, appearing before record 
crowds in London, Paris and 
Stockholm, and this past De- 
cember caused New York's 
Madison Square Garden near- 
ly to cave in under the weight 
of all the frenzy and jumping 
around going on. 

A year ago last spring, she 
was on an important tour— 
important and pivotal because 
she had left the Big Brother 
group not long before and was 
in the process of forming her 
own background group. There 
were those who predicted — 
even hoped, perhaps—that she 
would lose the old magic away 
from Big Brother. She is still 
making changes in her back- 
ground group—a new drum- 
mer or horn player seems to 
come and go every day—but 
by now, she has proved that 
it makes litde difference what. 
hirsute collection is gyrating 
behind her, at least as far as 
her popularity goes. 

The night she played before 
a collegeaged audience in 
Ann Arbor, Michigan, was 
typical of that spring tour. 
(Ihe college audience has be- 
come crucial to many perform- 
ers, one they must reach and 
capture—witness Bob Dylan 
—if they are going to climb. 
above the hungry many in 
show business.) Since I had 
first seen Janis, I had often 
wondered if she comporied 
herself offstage as she did on. 
After all, comedians can be 
dour away from the footlights; 
handsome screen lovers can be 


personality By JOHN BOWERS 


as queer as three-dollar bills, I 
wonder no longer about Janis, 
for I was with her night and 
day on that tour. Here is how 
it went at Ann Arbor: 

In the-communal dressing 
room for her and her group— 
a gymnasium locker room 
with a faint jockstrap aroma 
left in the air—she can't sit 
still. For a moment, she bends 
her torso and flings her arms 
out in a unique kind of Jop- 
linesque warm-up. As she 
bends forward in her skintight 
black-silk slacks, those of us to 
the rear are treated to an ar- 
resting imprint of her panties. 
(She does not, of course, wear 
a girdle. At one point, she 
debated whether or not to for- 
go underwear entirely, but a 
vote from her band members. 
said her panty ridges looked 
better onstage than complete 
smoothness.) Warm-up com- 
pleted, she goes for the brown, 
glittering bottle of B&B that 
has just been brought in for 
her private use. 

She tries unsuccessfully to 
pull out the bottle top with 
her hands, and then sticks it 
between her back teeth. The 
cork snaps, half of it still stuck 
in the botte, and she ends up 
having to sink a hole through 
it with a coat hanger. Then 
she has her drink, bringing 
the bottle up and down with. 
both hands, frowning and 
shaking her head. 

“Look, J. J., 1 want you to 
do one thing for me tonight," 
John Cooke says coming up 
in a whirlwind. A Harvard 
graduate, the son of journal- 
ist Alistair Cooke, he was Janis 
Joplin’s road manager at the 
time. He has intense eyes, 
white, well-cared-for teeth and 
а deceptively boyish smile. 
“When you get out there be- 
fore this audience, please, for 


PORTRAIT BY HERB DAVIDSON 


once, don't say motherfucker. 
You've got to realize that 
words are communication, and 
some people” 

“Hey, like, man, that whole 
scene is beyond my compre- 
hension. What kind of uptight 
bullshit you trying to lay on 
me? Hey, I ain't buying any 
of that, man. I don't give a 
shit who's out there.” 

‘This is the University of 
Michigan, and we don’t say 
fuck 

The word hangs in the air 
like a rifle report as two men 
in clerical collars stroll in. 
Both are amiable, part of the 
university's welcoming com- 
mittee, asking if there is any- 
thing Janis or the band needs. 
One is a pleasant, graying 
cleric. The other—quite star- 
tlingly—has curly, hippic-style 
h: that balloons out from 
his head about a foot. When 
Janis sees him. she does a dou- 
ble take and then breaks out 
in a laugh that affects her en- 
tire body. Her feet, in silver 
slippers, go up and down. Her 
head goes back. Her eyes crin- 
kle and the laugh comes spon- 
tancously from hcr stomach 
up her windpipe. Even her 
nose seems to move independ. 
ently. Her laugh is filled with 


all kinds of "wheees" and 
"wooos" and “heh-heh-hehs” 
and can stop as ly as it 


begins. 

"Hey, too much, man. A 
freak for a priest. I don't be- 
lieve it, no, I don't believe it, 
man.” Then, suddenly embar- 
rassed, she squirms about and 
will not look the cleric in the 
eye. The other members of the 
troupe also begin to show de 
corum. Snooky Flowers, the 
ebullient baritone-sax тап, 
stops the process of changing 
his pants. But as soon as the 


9e oboe 


PLAYBOY 


16 


clerics bow out politely and the door snaps 
shut, Janis says, wide-eyed, “Hey, can that 
freak cat ball? I want to know, man, can 
he ball?” 

“If he is 
lieve he 
can ball" 

“Whece wooo, heh-heh-heh!” 

“Out of sight, man, out of sight,” 
Snooky says. He peels off bell-bottom 
dungarees, revealing a pair of jaunty 
black drawers that go well with his 
mahogany-colored skin, and then dons 2 
pair of grecn-velvet trousers. 

It is now nearing showtime and a 
muted, expectant rumble can be heard 
from the vast gymnasium every time the 
door opens. Roy, the drummer, beats his 
sticks on a warm-up block. Transcenden- 
, the bearded and long-haired 
trumpet player, goes through yoga breath- 
g exercises with his eyes shut. Sam 
n Andrew, the only holdover 
Brother, picks out chords on 
his guitar. Ја seated one moment; 
the next, standing and hitching up her 
slacks. Absently, she runs her hand over 
the back of the organ player's neck. This 
ard Kermode, whose lush beard 
and thick wild hair make one think he 
is older than he is (he's 22). He returns 
the caress to the back of Janis’ neck, his 
clear-blue eyes staring out at nothing. 
The atmosphere now is charged and 
tense—in keeping with this locker room 
for athletes. 

“OK, we're on," John Cooke says, 
bursting in once more. “Everybody out! 
Come on, move! Don't lag behind, Rich- 
ard! Go!” 

"They charge through a heavily guarded 
passageway, like bulls in the chute to the 
ring, and climb aboard a creaky, tempo- 
rary bandstand. Only a few vague lights 
glow; but out in the audience, there are 
cries when this funny girl in the tight 
slacks and wild hair is sighted among the 
shadows: “That's her. ... There she is!" 

"Ihe band blows scales for the stand- 
ard, interminable time, the amps whine 
and screech, and then, suddenly, a purple 
flood Janis’ favorite light and color— 
bathes the stand and the music starts. 
With feet apart and blowing hair away 
from her face with the side of her 
mouth, Janis furiously whacks a 
black. chock to the rhythm, warming up 
and letting go. The faces out front stretch 
to the high gymnasium ceiling and а 
horde of open mouths crowds around the 
apron of the stage. A rubbery-limbed 
youth begins a dance that could be an epi- 
leptic seizure to the left of the bandstand. 
And there is that sudden, swift rapport 
with an audience that Janis scems to crave 
most of all. She sings about wanting and 
misery, and she sings as if she means it 
"The audience. gives her back apprecia- 
боп and—there is no other word—love. 


which I be- 
tones, "he 


a Episcopal 
John Cooke 


Janis never quite found this rapport 
in the town she grew up in: Port Arthur, 


Texas, population 67,000. Her father is 
engineer for Texaco. She remembers 
him as a “strong, silent Texas type,” 
generally easygoing, but a person one 
paid attention to when, on rare occa- 
sions, he got angry. Her mother works as 
a registrar at the local business college, 
and Janis scems to have had a fairly typ- 
ical “mother-daughter relationship with 
her. (The next day, before her appearance 
on the Ed Sullivan show, she called her 
mother and said, “Momma, Momma— 
guess what they're paying me for this one 
show?" And when her mother heard the 
amount, she said, "You're worth every 
penny of it, darling”) Janis has a young- 
er sister whom she describes as “straight, 
a sorority girl in college,” and there is a 
younger brother who resembles Janis a 
great deal. 

It was around the onset of puberty 
that a deep resentment began to build in 
unsureness and rebel- 
lion that perhaps only poetry or one of 
her songs can explain—this from а cher- 
ub who used to sing soprano in the 
church choir and lift her eyes to heaven. 
She became a beatnik, later a hippie, the 
only one in Port Arthur. “They put me 
down, man, tios square people in Port 
Arthur. They called me a slut. They 
threw rocks at me in class. But all I was 
looking for was some kind of personal 
freedom and other people who felt the 
way I did." 

For a while, there were brief periods 
of middle-class conformity, followed by 
sudden wild flights into bohemia, like an 
alcoholic who falls off the wagon. Janis 
went to college—three of them. She lived 
for a few months on New York's Lower 
East Side and for longer stretches in 
North Beach, San Francisco. She hitch- 
hiked between places She worked as a 
key-punch operator and she drew unem- 
ployment checks. She served beer in a 
bowling alley in ‘Texas and, according to 
her, was a very good waitress until she 
got bored (she gets bored easily). And it 
was in Texas that she heard a recording 
of Huddie Ledbetter (“Leadbelly”), fell 
in love with his music and began de- 
veloping a singing voice that was soon to 
become notable. "I had always sung, 
what little singing I did. way up there in 
a high register,” she says, giving a trill of 
demonstration. “But then one night be- 
fore friends. I lowered my voice way 
down here, like this, imitating Leadbelly. 
Everybody was amared. They didn’t know 
I had that voice. Neither did I.” 

The first time she sang in public, in 
Texas, she got two Lone Star beers. 
And for several years afterward. she 
didn't earn much more from her sing- 
ing. She sang country-and-western at Mr. 
"Threadgill's, a beer parlor that had been 
converted from an old filling station on 
the outskirts of Austin. In San Francisco, 
she played onenight gigs at any j 


that necded a temporary singer. By 1965, 
she felt she had had enough of scruffy 
street living and went back home “to go 
straight.” For a year, she wore unspectac- 
ular clothing, attended Lamar State Col- 
lege of Technology and started preparing, 
with good grades, to become a teacher— 
her parents’ ambition for her. But it was 
not meant to be. When Chet Helms, 
a Texas musician she had met at Mr. 
"Threadgill's, told her hat Big Brother 
and the Holding Company needed a 
chick singer in San Francisco, she went 
flying. She hasn't looked back since. 

She came onto the scene just when 
the movement was coming together in 
HaightAshbury—the flower children, 
the acid freaks, the psychedelic, overly 
amplificd music. Big Brother and thc 
Holding Company soon became a stand- 
ard item at the old Avalon ballroom, 
where the hippic-rock dances began. 
"Those who heard them in the old days 
—when it was experimental, totally fresh 
—say it was a stunning experience, Janis 
and the band members made $200 a 
night, which they split five ways right 
down the line. At the 1967 Monterey Jazz 
Festival, with Janis wailing a memorable 
Ball and Chain, Big Brother stole the 
show; and a short time later, Albert 
Grossman became their manager. Gross 
man, who has a suite of informally run 
offices in New York, guided the career of 
Bob Dylan. He appears in the Dylan 
film Don’t Look Back, the graying, 
heavyset man who softly chews out an 
English hotel clerk in a manner that 
makes your blood run cold. Today, he is 
not so heavy and his gray hair is much, 
much longer (held in the back by a 
rubber band). Except for his large lumi- 
nous cyes and his chic contemporary 
dothes, he bears a striking resemblance to 
George Washington. To reporters, he is 
as elusive as ta Garbo. But to others, 
he is, like Washington, a father figure. 

"He doesn't direct me,” Janis says. 
"He just finds out where Ї want to 
go—and then he helps me get there. And 
he’s chere to comfort me when I need it. 
Man, that’s important, I don’t like to 
admit I need help—like, I need someone 
to help me across а snowy strect—but I 
do, I do. Sometimes I go a week without 
talking to him; other times ГЇЇ talk to 
him three times a day for two weeks.” 

In many ways, the Grossman operation 
is highly casual, people coming and 
going as a loosely knit family does to the 
old homestead. "Everybody knows Al 
bert,” John Cooke says. He himself ran 
across Grossman during the period Bob 
Dylan used to hang out at the Club 47 
in Cambridge and John was a student at 
Harvard. And then, a few years later, 
when John needed a job, Grossman was 
around. “Sure,” Grossman told him. 
^What group would you like to travcl 
with?” He named several and John 
chose the Janis Joplin outfit, because he 


PLAYBOY 


118 


remembered her well from the Monterey 
Festival. Everything casual, unlikely— 
and perfect. 

When Janis left Big Brother to form 
her own backup band in the fall of 1968, 
the parting was amicable, everyone real 
izing that she had become a star and it 
was inevitable for her to strike out on 
her own. Her group at present is simply 
called Janis Joplin's band. The crowds 
flock to see her, no matter where, and 
her bookings leave her little time to 
herself. She is not sure how much she 
makes, but it is undoubtedly a hell of a 
lot. The Grossman organization gives her 
$300 a weck to live on and the rest goes 
into something called the Joplin 
Corporation. Every now and then, she 
asks to sce the accounting but gives up 
when the figures become complicated. “It 
beats,” she says, “selling beer. 

One cold wet evening in New York, I 
talked to Janis about her past and current. 
life, It was after 9:30 when she finished 
rehearsing in a baroque, mirrored hall on 
57th Street. (During the last part of the 
rehearsal, everyone seemed to be arguing 
at once and only the one who screamed 
loudest—usually Janis—got through.) 
Чу, on the street she took my 
arm—not like a New York girl, as if ready 
to pull it off, nor like a Southern girl, 
lightly, as if you might bruise her. Janis 
held on for support, snugly, like a child 
Slipping down her nose was a pair of 
large wire glasses without lenses. She wore 
a foxy fur coat, blood-red-velvet slacks, 
a saber dancer's fur hat and, from some- 
where on her, a series of tassels that hung 
to the ground like drapery cords. Over 
‘one shoulder she held a Sony recorder 
that blasted out her numbers from the 
rehearsal. Only twice have I seen New 
Yorkers rubberneck on the street: at 
Moondog in green Nordic garb on Sixth 
Avenue and at Janis Joplin that night on 
57th Street. 

We ended up in the Carnegie Hall 
Tavern, a sedate, lightly humming place. 
Janis ordered gin and orange juice, and 
then called to the young, healthy-faced 
waiter, “Hey, buddy, make it a double!” 

She smoked a Marlboro, she fidgeted, 
she noticed two women at a nearby ta- 
ble. One had long blonde hair, the other, 
bobbed strawberry hair—and they had 
their heads close together. “Hey, man,” 
Janis whispered furiously, “are those two 
Lesbians? Are they really? 

“1 don't knot 

A fat mi pincenez and banker's 
gray sat facing us at another table. His 
eyes never left Janis, and once I saw his 
mouth fall open. “You asked what 1 
think of Port Arthur,” she said, after a 
couple of drinks. "Here's what 1 think of 
Port Arthur.” And then, on yellow note 
paper, she drew a heart and a kind 
of scrollwork that is found on current 
psychedelic posters. ‘The lettering read: 


JANIS LOVES (TEE-HEE) PORT ARTHUR AS 
MUCH AS PORT ARTHUR LOVES HER. 

“They hurt me back there, тап. They 
made me miserable. And 1 wanted them 
so much to love me.” 

"How did they hurt you? Why were 
you so miserable?" 

She thought awhile. “I didn't have any 
tits at fourteen.” 

Soon, though, she was tall 
some fast friends from the town. 
were these five guys, you sce. They read 
books and had ideas, and I started run- 
ning around with them. We thought of 
ourselves as intellectuals, and I guess we 
were in that place.” They all went swim- 
ming at night in the Gulf, letting green 
oozy plankton cover their bodies. Then 
they would climb to the top of an old 
abandoned lighthouse. It was before 
them, in the lighthouse, that Janis first 
lowered her voice and imitated Leadbell 

When she talked about Mr. Thread- 
gill’s beer joint, her face lit up. “He wore 
an apron and had this big pot gut, and 
һе would come from behind the counter 
and sing like you never heard before. He 
yodeled, man, and sounded a lot like 
Jimmie Rodgers" 

“Td like to hear you sing country-and- 
western," I said. I meant later. 

"СП МЕК THREADS AND GOLD- 
EN NEEDLES” 

"Hey, hey, how is your voice holding 
up these days? Do you think you're 
wrecking it?" 

“T'H tell you something, man. 1 started 
oli. screamin I really did. I can't stand 
to hear a recording of my voice from 
those early Big Brother days. 1 didn't 
like the album of Cheap Thrills—oh, 
I'm somewhat satisficd with Summertime 
and Turtle Blues, but that’s all. Im 
trying to develop into a singer now and 
it, oh, more dram: I'm not 
wrecking it.” 

‘The drinks kept coming, and she sud 
denly referred to a recent enemy of hers 
as an anal retentive, not using a more 
colorful phrase from the argot. (Somc- 
where within Janis there still lurks a 
college girl, a girl who reads Freud and 
likes to argue ideas over candlelight. Sull 
deeper—and closer to her core—is a per 
son who uses "righteous" as a devout 
Christian docs. Her face is always solemn 
when she utters the word.) She said she 
started singing the blues because it al 
lowed her to show the feelings she had. 
With country-and-western, she was just 
ng tunes, 

But why are you working so hard 
these days? What arc you after?” 

“Ie sure as hell's not the money. Ac 
first, it was to get love from the audi. 
ence. Now it's to really reach my fullest 
potential, to go as far as I can go. I've 
got the chance, man. It's a great oppor- 
tunity. -" She took a long swallow 
and another gin and orange juice was on 
the way. "But I need somebody to di 


make 


the fucking band, 1 really do. How can 
1 do everything? And those West Coast 
critics should know I need help now and 
shouldn't go about tearing me down 
That fucking Rolling Stone made те 
ay, man, bawl, what they wrote. They 
should know. . . . Oh, hell, all girl 
really wants is just love and a man. But 
what man can put up with a rock-n-roll 
ма?" 

"Do you ever get erotically aroused 
onstage? I've wondered.” 
ike, hot? Hey. do 1 ever. Sometimes. 
Once I did this marvelous set, God, and 
was that audience with me. 1 came 
offstage and this boyfriend 1 had threw a 
cape over me right away and led mc past 
performers, stagehands and autograph 
seekers, right out the back door and into 
the back of his Volkswagen bus for some 
balling. Was that great!” 

What happened to the guy?" 

“Oh, he ran off with another chick. 
When you love somebody, they always 
love somebody else.” 

A drink hed in three swallows. 
She lit a Marlboro and discovcred that a 
layer of New York grime had covered 
her hands since the last was 
showed me a tattoo on the outer side of 
her right heel. It was a blue sunflower 
that had been cmbedded there by a 
boyfriend, an Englishman, who woke her 
up one morning to say that she had lived 
Шош a tattoo. The Eng- 
olf with somebody else; the 
tattoo remained. ow I want rose 
tattoo. One right here on my left breast. 
Tm going to do it when 1 get back to 
San Francisco. Hey, they hurt like hell 
when they put them on, man." 

She played а small segment of one of 
her numbers on the Sony, and then 
thought she heard a bad note. Swiftly, 
impetuously, she turned up the volume 
“DOWN OOONNN M 


Forks paused in mid-air in the Carnegie 
Hall Tavern. Light chatter stopped with 
а snap. The bartender froze with a fifth 
ac a 45-degree angle. “Please. Sor 
waiter with the healthy face said 
German accent, "you must not do this 
here.” Which meant, of course, 
she did. The third time in th 
members of the New York Pi 
and we were thrown out опто the wet 
side street, a mean wind whipping our 
faces. 


At the corner, a taxi driver would 
slow, spot this litle funny girl in her 
outrageous outfit and then speed by 
with a paralyzed neck, as if in a trance 
The only thing to do was grab the door 
handle when one slowed sulliciently. He 

icr bounce you off a light 
you to his domain. We 
made it, the gnomelike driver see 
squeeze one degree more into h 
every time an expletive from the back 
seat assaulted his sensibilities. If the 

(continued on page 172) 


attire By ROBERT L. GREEN getting it all together for a casual work-and-play summer 


The up-front urban chap with bird in tow has on a pair of pleated multicolor striped slacks with wide flared leg bottoms and three-inch-high 
cuffs, by UFO, $14, worn with a turtleneck rib-knit sweater, from Bonwit Teller, $35, leather sash, by Buckroe Country, $7, ond a pair of 
two-tone bals, by Renegades, $29. The fellow at the left rear goes for a two-button single-breasted wool jacket with notched wide lapels, 
slanted flop pockets and deep center vent, $165, paisley cotton shirt with long-pointed collar and double-button cuffs, $25, and multicolor 
silk basket-weave tie, $15, all by Meledandri; plus striped herringbone-weave Fortrel and polyester double-knit slacks with Western pockets, 
by Asher, $27.50, braided cotton belt with gilt-finished friction buckle, by Paris, $5, and a pair of two-tone bols, by Renegades, $29. His 
mustachioed buddy wears a giant-herringbone-patierned double-breasted wool jacket, by Clubman, $65, coupled with striped herringbone 
wool stocks, by Estevez for Joymar, $40, imported corton shirt with long-pointed collar, by Turnbull & Asser, $25, silk paisley bow tie, by 
Liberty of London, $7, tortoise-finish potentleather belt, by Solvatori, $8.50, ond a pair of buffolo-leather demiboots, by Verde, $30. 


PHOTOGRAPH BY ALEXAS URBA 


119 


LEVIATHAN! 


fiction By LARRY NIVEN 

the hunters of the future were faced 

with a fearsome task—to capture the most 
gigantic monsters ever known 


TWO MEN sTOOD on one 

all “You'll be 

red-faced boss 
made some improveme 
extension cage while you were in the hos- 
pital, You can hover it or fly it at up 
to fifty miles per hour or let it fly itself: 
there's а constantaltitude setting. Your 
field of vision is total. We've made the 
shell of the extension cage completely 
transparent.” 

On the other side of the thick glass, 


something was trying to kill them. It was 
40 feet long from nose to tail and w: 
equipped with vestigial batlike win; 
Otherwise, it was built something like a 
slender lizard. It screamed and scratched 

the glass with murderous claws. 

‘The sign on the glass read: 

GILA MONSTER 

RETRIEVED FROM. THE YEAR 230 ANTE- 

ATOMIC, APPROXIMATELY, FROM THE 

REGION OF CHINA, EARTH. EXTINCT. 


“You'll be well out of his reach,” said 
Ra Chen. 

Yes, sir.” Svetz stood with his arms 
folded about him, as if he had a chill. 
He was being sent after the biggest ani- 

that had cver lived; and Svetz was 

id of animals 

For science" sake! What are you wor- 
ried about, Sver? It’s only a big fish!” 

Yes, sir. You said that about the Gila 
monster. It’s just an extinct lizard, you 
said.” 


1 only a drawing in а children's 
book to go by. How could we know it 

‘ould be so Ыр? 

Тһе Gila monster drew back from the 
glass. It inhaled hugely and took aim 
Yellow-and-orange flame spewed from its 
nostrils and played across the gl eu 
squeaked and jumped for cover. 

He can't get through," said Ra Chen 

Sveu picked himself up. He was a 
slender, small-boned man with pale skin, 


light-blue eyes and very fine ash-blond 


ILLUSTRATION BY CHARLES BRAGG 


122 


hair "How could we know it would 
breathe fire?" he mimicked. “That lizard 
almost cremated me. I spent four months 
in the hospital, as it was. And what 
really burns me is, he looks less like the 
drawing every time 1 see him. Sometimes 
I wonder if | didn't get the wrong 
animal.” 


“What's the difference, Svetz? The 
secretary-general loved him. "That's what 
counts 


"Yes sir. Speaking of the secretary- 

general, what does he want with a sperm 
whale? He's got a horse, he's got a Gila 
monster” 
That's a litle complicated.” Ra Chen 
grimaced. "Palace politics! Its always 
complicated. Right now, Svetz, some- 
where in the United Nations palace, a 
hundred different scientists are trying to 
get support, each for his own project. 
And every last one of them involves 
getting the attention of the secretary- 
general and holding it. Keeping his 
attention isn't easy." 

Ѕуеш nodded. Everybody knew about 
the secretary general. 

"The family that had ruled the United 
Nations for 700 years was somewhat 
inbred. 

‘The secretary-general was 44 years old. 
He was a happy person; he loved animals 
and flowers and pictures and people. 
Pictures of planets and multiple star 
systems made him clap his hands and coo 
with delight; so the Institute for Space 
Research shared amply in the United 
Nations budget. But he liked extinct 
animals, too. 

“Somcone managed to convince the 
secretary general that he wants the larg- 
est animal on earth. The idea may have 
been to take us down a peg or two,” said 
Ra Chen. “Someone may think we're 
getting too big a share of the budget. 

“By the time I got onto it, the 
secretary-general wanted a Brontosaurus. 
We'd never have gotten him that. No 
extension cage will reach that far." 

“Was it your idea to get him a whale, 
sir?” 

“Yeah. It wasn't easy to persuade him. 
Whales have been extinct for so long that. 
we don't even have pictures. All I had to 
show him was a crystal sculpture from 
Archaeology—dug out of the Steuben 
Glass building—and a Bible and a dic 
tionary. 1 managed to convince him that 
Leviathan and the sperm whale were 
onc and the same.” 

"Thats not strictly true." Svetz had 
read a computer-produced condensation 
of the Bible. The condensation had 
ruined the plot, in Svetz's opinion. "Le- 
viathan could be anything big and de- 
structive, even a horde of locusts.” 

“Thank science you weren't there to 
help, Svetz! The issue was confused 
enough. Anyway, І promised the secretary- 
general the largest animal that ever lived 


on earth. All the literature says that that 
animal was a whale. And there were 
sperm-whale herds all over the oceans 
as recently as the First Century Ante- 
Atomic. You shouldn't have any trouble 
finding опе." 

“In twenty minutes?” 

Ra Chen looked startled. “What?” 

“If I try to keep the big extension 
cage in the past for more than twenty 
minutes, ГЇЇ never be able to bring it 
home. The” 

“I know that.” 

“uncertainty factor in the energy 
constants —— 

“5усо- T 


blow the institute right off the 
map. 

"We thought of that, Svetz. You'll go 
back in the small extension cage. When 
you find a whale, you'll signal the big 
extension cage. 

"Signal it how?” 

“We've found a way to send a simple 
on-off pulse through time. Let's go back 
to the institute and I'll show you. 

Malevolent golden eyes watched them 
through the glass as they walked away. 

The small extension cage was the 
part of the time machine that did the 
moving. Within its transparent shell, 
Svetz scemed to ride a flying armchair 
equipped with an airplane passenger's 
lunch tray; except that the lunch tray 
was covered with lights and buttons and 
knobs and crawling green lines. He was 
somewhere off the East Coast of North 
America, in or around the year 100 
Ante-Atomic or 1845 Anno Domini. The 
temporal-precession gauge was not par- 
ticularly accurate. 

Svetz skimmed low over water the col- 
or of lead, beneath a sky the color of 
slate. But for the rise and fall of the sea, 
he might almost have been suspended in 
an enormous sphere painted half light, 
half dark. He let the extension cage fly 
itself, 60 feet above the water, while he 
watched the needle on the NAI, the 
Nervous Activities Indicator. 

Hunting Leviathan. 

His stomach was uneasy. Svetz had 
thought he was adjusting to che peculiar 
gravitational side effects of time travel. 
But apparently not. 

At least he would not be here long. 

On this trip, he was not looking for a 
mere 40-foot Gila monster. Now he hunt- 
ed the largest animal that had ever lived. 
A most conspicuous beast. And now he 
had a life-secking instrument, the NAJ. 

"The needle twitched violently. 

Was it a whale? But the needle was 
trembling in apparent indecision. A clus- 
ter of sources, then. Svetz looked in the 
direction indicated. 

A clipper ship, winged with white sail, 
long and slender and graceful as hell. 
Crowded, too, Svetz guessed. Many hu- 
mans, closely packed, would affect the 
NAI in just that manner. A sperm whale 


ingle center of complex nervous 
activity—would attract the needle as vio 
Jendy, without making it jerk about like 
that. 

The ship would interfere with recep- 
tion. Svetz turned east and away, but not 
without regret. The ship was beautiful. 

The uneasiness in Svetz's belly was 
getting worse, not better. 

Endless gray-green water, rising and 
falling beneath his flying armchair. 

Enlightenment came like something 
clicking in his head. Seasick. On ашо: 
matic, the extension cage matched its 
motion to that of the surface over which 
it flew; and that surface was heaving in 
great dark swells. 

No wonder his stomach was uneasy! 
Svetz grinned and reached for the man- 
ual controls. 

"The NAI needle suddenly jerked hard 
over. A bite! thought Svetz, and he 
looked off to the right. No sign of a ship. 
And submarines hadn't been invented 
yet. Had they? No, of course they hadn't. 

The needle was rock-steady. 

Svetz flipped the call button. 

The source of the tremendous NAI 
signal was off to his right and moving. 
Svetz turned to follow it. It would be 
minutes before the call signal reached 
the Institute for Temporal Research and 
brought the big extension cage with its 
weaponry for hooking Leviathan 


Many years ago, Ra Chen had 
dreamed of rescuing the library at Alex 
andria from Caesar's fire. For this pur- 
pose, he had built the big extension 
cage. Its door was a gaping iris, big 
enough to be loaded while the library 
was actually burning. Its hold, at a guess, 
was at least twice large enough to hold 
all the scrolls in that ancient library. 

The big cage had cost a fortune in 
government. money. It had failed to go 
back beyond 400 A.A. or 1545 A.D. The 
books burned at Alexandria were still 
lost to history, or at least to histori 

Such a boondoggle would have broken 
other men. Somehow, Ra Chen had sur- 
vived the blow to his reputati 

He had pointed out the changes to 
Svetz after they returned from the zoo. 
"We've fitted the cage out with heavy- 
duty stunners and antigravity beams. 
You'll operate them by remote control. 
Be careful not to let the stun beam 
touch you. It would kill even a sperm 
whale if you held it on him for more 
than a few seconds and it'd kill a man 
instantly. Other than that, you should 
have no problems.” 

Jt was at that moment that Svetz's 
stomach began to hurt. 

"Our major change is the call button. 
1t will actually send us a signal through 
time, so that we can send the big exten 
sion cage back to you. We can land it 
right beside you, no more than a few 

(continued on page 167) 


ns. 


PLAYBOY 


124 


Mr. Ross to nine-eleven, please." 

Large room, tufted yellow rug, sliding 
glass opening onto a small sun terrace. 
Hushed, chilly, aseptically clean. Dress- 
ing room. Ice maker. Bidet. Color televi- 
sion. Many mirrors. 

He kept sceing himself in the mirrors, 
secing movement and turning with a 
start and seeing Wyatt Ross. Just like 
the pictures that had appeared over the 

ам six years in Business Week, Forbes, 
e, Newsweek. With the adjectives. 
Vital. Daring. Imaginative. Fast-moying. 
Aggressive. 
nd just like the newspaper photo- 
graphs recently. Wyatt Ross subpoenaed 
in Senate hearing on stock manipula- 
tion. Securities and Exchange Commission 
launches investigation of misuse of insider 
information. Justice Department blocks 
acquisition of Kallen Equipment by Wyro 
International Services, Inc. Board of gov- 
ernors of the New York Stock Exchange 
suspends trading in Wyro. Attorneys for 
Kallen Equipment daim that Wyatt Ross, 
executive officer of Wyro, made for- 
tune in dummy margin accounts in three 
brokerage houses. 

He opened the sealed envelope he had 
been given at the desk. Feminine hand- 
writing. Hotel stationery. “Мт. Ross: Т 
will expect you at 1l this morning in 
938. Do not phone my room, please. Miss 
McGann.” 

Twenty minutes. He unpacked too 
quickly. Once again. he tried to read the 
transcript. of the last hearing. Just words, 
without meaning. He prowled, not look- 
ing into any of the mirrors At two 
minutes before 11, he put the fiveinch 
reel of tape into a side pocket of his 
suitcoat and walked down the corridor 
to Miss McGann's room. 

She opened the door a few inches and 
looked out at him, then pulled it wide to 
let him in. A tall woman, younger than 
he had expected. Strong-bodied, big- 
bosomed blonde, with a pretty and impas- 
sive face, cool blue eyes, careless hair, 
brief green skirt with a big brass buckle, 
yellow sleeveless blouse, yellow sandals. 

“Mr. Russo asked me to check and be 
sure you have a good reason to be here,” 
she said. 
"One of the men on my board lives 
here. Sam Wattenberg, He isn't well. He 
doesn't travel. He has a large stock inter- 
est in Wyro and he's very upset. I'm see- 
him at his home at five this evening.” 
lay I have the tape, please?" 

He handed it to her. She went over to 
the couch. She had cleared the long 
coffee table and set up clectronic equip- 
ment on it. Two reel-to-reel recorders. A 
small amplifier. A piece of laboratory 
equipment that looked like an un- 
finished television receiver. Two small 
speakers on the floor. 

As she threaded the tape onto one of 
the decks, he said, “It's just a lot of 


standard husband-and-wife talk, Russo 
id to just turn on that machine and 
ke sure she talked." 

Miss McGann made по reply. She 
started the tape, adjusted the amplifier 
controls, then leaned back on the couch, 
arms folded, eyes half closed. And the 
breakfast-table voices of Wyatt and Магу 
Lou Ross, husband and wife, came into 
the room with a special clarity, а star- 
ting presence. The smali routines of 
domesticity. The man had fixed the dish- 
washer, but it still wasn't working right. 
Denny's new tooth locked as if it was 
coming in sideways. Maria wants three 
days off to go visit her sick sister down in 
Brownsville. She wants to borrow the bus 
fare. 

And then a part that made him edgy 
and uncomfortable. 

“Darling, you look so tired. And you 
seem so kind of remote. 1 suppose it's 
all this trouble with the Government 
They're sort of persecuting you, aren't 
they?” 

‘That's а good word, honey. 

"Is it. . . real bad trouble?" 

"Pretty bad.” 

"They're saying such ugly things about 
you in the newspapers. It hurts me when 
they say things like that. I know you're 
not like that." 

“Thanks. 

“Wyatt, darling?" 

"What is it?" 

їз all а Jot of misunderstandings, 
isn't it? I mean, you haven't ever done 
anything . .. sneaky and underhanded, 
have you? I shouldn't even ask you that 
I know you better than that” 

m absolutely clean, honey. Believe 


do. Then this is just something 
we have to go through and theyll find 
ош they're wrong about you. 1 think I 
would just die if you ever did anything 
crooked. I love you and I know you 
couldn't. I shouldn't spoil your breakfast 
by even talking about it. I'm sorr 
You have a right to ask, honey. You 
have a right to be reassured. 

“Well, I h it was over, darn it.” 

Wyatt's face felt hot. The conversation 
turned to trivialities, to invitations they 
couldn't accept, to when the dog should 
have his shots, to what to send her 
mother fer her birthday this year. 

The tape ended. Miss McGann said, 
Phat sounds like a nifty little wife, Mr. 


"Until she was about fifu 
her family moved to Апата 
“Nifty litle wife isn’t going to take 


"I'm paying Russo a very large piece 
of money to get me out from under. The 
deal does not include my listening to 
your personal appraisals, Miss McGann.” 

“Correction, deary. I'm not on your 


conglomerate payroll. I am a specialist, 
and I am damned good, and I get pai 
very, very well. You got too confident 
and you got too cute and you got caught. 
You can lose your ass fellow. Russo 
knows it, you know it and I know it. 1 
think your Mary Lou is better than you 
deserve and I think you will be doing 
her a favor by dropping her off the back 
of your sleigh, fellow, 1 say what I want 
when I want to and take crap from no 
man alive. Now tell me you're not used 
to being talked to like this. And I will 
tell you to relax and enjoy it. Now let 
me get to work." 

She ran the tape back and found a 
place she wanted. A simple sentence. 
"María gets so all gloomy and dramatic 
when there's any kind of family trouble, 
especially financial problems." 

Why that one?" Wyatt asked. 
"Why not?" she said. 

лок, Miss McGann. Truce. I'm in 
trouble. I'm humble. I need your help. 
My name is Wyatt.” 

She studied him, head tilted, thet 
smiled for the first time. “Sure. Call me 
Ruth. That sentence has the sounds in it 
that are going to give me the most 
trouble. She turns financial, for example, 
into a foursyllable word, ‘Fyenance-you- 
мш." 

She recorded the sentence from tape to 
tape ten times, leaving blank tape be- 
tween each repeat. She then played the 
new tape, watching the ever-changing 
graph pattern on the screen of the un- 
familiar piece of equipment 

With a microphone, she then repeated 
the sentence, recording it onto the new 
tape in the blank spots she had left, 
working the piano-key controls of the re- 
corder deftly while she watched the sound 
pattern, the voice profile, on the screen. 

Wyatt Ross felt disappointment. The 
imitation seemed way off, unconvincing 
Ruth McGann opened a small jar and 
took out a wad of pink, puttylike materi- 
al, broke off two pieces, thumbed them 
into her cheeks outside her back molars. 
changes the amount of space inside 
the mouth,” she explained. “Changes the 
resonance. I can alter the pitch.” 

She practiced for а litle while, then 
put the duplicate tape on the first ma- 
chine and а fresh tape on the second. 
She spoke at the stme time, saying the 
same words, and both voice patterns ap- 
peared on the screen, becoming ever 
more similar. 

Then she tumed the equipment off 
and said, "Wyat what in the 
world are you doing in this hotel room 
with this female person?” 

The uncanny accuracy of it made him 
jump. It was Магу Lou's voice coming 
out of the stranger's mouth. She laughed 
at his startled look and it was Mary 
Lou's laugh. 

"Now I got it, I better stay with it 

[continued on page 156) 


Bunny Avo Faulkner joined Ployboy in Miomi; now she's on ottractive asset of the New York Club 


playboy presents a lovely array of intercontinental cottontails 


JUST A DECADE Aco, an ad seeking "the 30 most beautiful girls in Chicagoland” appeared 
in the Chicago Tribune. From the hundreds who answered the call ere selected to 
become the world’s first Playboy Bunnies. Since the opening of the Chicago Club in 1960, 
the Playboy empire has experienced its own population explosion, spreading eastward to 
London, westward to San Francisco, south to Jamaica and north to Montreal. Now there 
are 800 Bunnies staffing 17 metropolitan Playboy Clubs, two resort Club-Hotels and even 
a superluxurious DC-9-32 jet airplane, Hugh Hefner's Big Bunny. Late last year, in 
nticipation of its tenthanniversary celebration, Playboy Clubs International inaugu- 
rated а Bunny Beauty Contest and selected a Bunny of (text concluded on page 172 


Lyn Love (above) thought she wonted a clerical coreer; "But | got tired of taking the rop for my boss's mistakes,” she says. The busi- 


mess world's loss is the Chicogo Club's goin. Beth Avis Miller (below left) and Rosemary Melendez (opposite page, on stairs) are Jet 
Bunnies aboard Hugh Hefner's DC-9-32 jet, the Big Bunny, when not on duty ot the Los Angeles Club. The reflective beauty below right 
is Denver's Heother Von Every, o devotee of skiing—either on nearby Rocky Mountain slopes or over the wind-rippled surface of o lake. 


Alix Smith (above) was ап art major at Tulane 
University before becoming a New Orleans 
Bunny. Carmela Benvenuto (below), a Jet Bunny, 
is aka o student at a junior college in Chicago. 


This trio of Bunnies includes Vicki Snell of Phoenix 
, Inga Whealton, a willowy Floridian now 
the New York scene (right), and Londoner 


Ella Garland, equestrienne and former nurse (below). 


Nancy Marshall, the blonde Montreal swinger above left, is a distant descendant of composer Richard Wagner. The sun-bothed beauty above 
center is Kingston-born Bunny Мое Merlin of the Jamaica Pleyboy Club-Hotel. Bunny Mickey Hersch of Boston, obave right, is «i 


elementary school teacher wha holds а master’s degree in education; during the winter months, she spen 
Snuggled in furs below is Hollywood's let Bunny lindo Donnelly, who is also piaveov's cover girl this month 


most free evenings rinkside at 


Bruins hockey games. 


Both Cynthia Hall (left), a Bunny at the Lake Geneva Playboy 
Club-Hotel, and Atlonto cottontail Nicole Cisar (above) were 
born in the Chicago suburb of Hinsdale, but they've never 
met. The bumper-paol expert below is Miami's Coral Vitale. 


It’s easy to see why Corol Imhof (above) won cut os Chicogo's Bunny of the Yeor in lost foll’s contest; praveov reoders may also remember 
her os this yeor's “Mrs. Februory,”” our notion of a Family Circle Helpmate of the Month. London's Jeannie Dormon (below left) was—so help 
us—on assistont troffic controller in the Women’s Royal Air Force before joining the Bunny brigade. And Cathy Green, the pensive beauty 
below right, abandoned an accounting career in San Froncisco's financial district to become a Bunny a few blocks up Montgomery Street. 


= r- €: 


Bunny Barbie Crawford af St. Louis (above) has been winning beauty contests since babyhood. At Californio’s Marymount College, she wos 
runner-up for best-dressed-coed honors, but she scores in our book as best-undressed. Playmate-Bunny Jean Bell (below left), who graced 
our galefold in October 1969, has moved westward from her digs in Houston to join the cottontails at the Los Angeles Club. The double 
treat below right is afforded by mirrorimage views of Detroit Bunny Kim Stretton, on ex-journalist now launched on а modeling career. 


о 
3 
2 

2 


Above, from left, ore PloymateBunny Helena Antonacdio, last seen as our Miss June in 1969, cooking up something in New York; Lynda 
Moore, o popular addition to the Denver hutch; and water sprite Kristi Willinger of the Playboy Club-Hotel at Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. 
Having а go at Cosmo (below) is Cincinnati's Elisa Simone, a newcomer to the cottontail coterie who aspires to becoming a theatrical pro- 


rector. On the opposite page is Atlanto Club Bunny Lieko English, who's a delightful mixture of Japanese and Americon parentage. 


"You make your peace 
sign, ГЇЇ make mine." 


on parade ‘trom Les Amours de Napoleon Ill 


тнк міѕтоку of the royal Bonapartes of 
Holland has always been attended by the 
most piquant rumors of amorous 
trigue. Louis Bonaparte, king by gra 
his brother the great Napoleon, w 
man of shabby character who was mar- 
ried to Hortense de Beauharnais, the 
lovely daughter of Napoleon's empress. 
Although Queen Hortense felt only dis 
gust for her husband and lived as far 
away as possible from him, she neverthe- 
less managed to present him with three 
pretty children. Louis, despite his aver- 
sion to family life and his preference for 
the company of young men, would grow 
angry at the appearance of each new 
babe and would accuse the queen of 
immoral behavior. 

The truth was that she was no more 
inded gil with 
a poor vays aston- 
ished by her pregnancies and usually 
quite vague as to the identities of the 
gentlemen responsible, The Emperor Na- 
poleon once remarked that “Hortense 
always gets muddled over the father of 
her children," an observation that may 
have had some autobiographic: 
ing. since he may very well have 
the father of the eldest prince. 

The queen's lord in waiting was а 
respectable Dutch admiral named Ver 
Huel, who attended Queen Hortense 
during the summer of 1807, while she 
was enjoying the salubrious air of Cau. 
terets in the Hautes Pyrénées. One after- 
noon, while the admiral remained at the 
villa, Hortense went for a walk in the 
mountains with Christian Ver Huel, a 
handsome young naval officer who w 
the admiral’s nephew. A violent storm 
came up, but they were lucky enough to 
find a woodcutter's hut. There they took 
shelter and. waited for the rain to cease. 
It lasted until the next morning. 

OF what occurred during the long 
hours of waiting there is mo record. 
"There is only one piece of circumstantial 
evidence: Nine months later, the child 
who was to become Napoleon HE м: 
born. 

The brave айтай 


in- 


п order to protect 


the good name of his nephew, accepted 
the moral responsibility and was gener- 


ally said to be the father. He did, in fact, 
give the young prince guidance and sup- 
port throughout his life. Louis Bonaparte, 
on the other hand, was considerably 
miffed by the development, He made it 
his business to be elsewhere on the day 
the child was born; and only with great 
reluctance did he finally agree to ac- 
knowledge it—the poor baby went five 
months without a name and a christening. 

This unfortunate carelessness about 
paternal and familial matters continued 
to play a part in the life of Louis Napo- 
leon after he grew to manhood. When 
he had become emperor, he determined 


to give up his passing love affairs, to 
marry and beget an heir. It so happened 
that ће met and fell in love with Eugé- 
nie, ostensibly the daughter of the Spanish. 
grandee Count de Montijo but actually as 
much from the wrong side of the blanket 
as Louis Napoleon himself. He invited 
the two beautiful Montijo sisters to visit 
the chateau of Saint-Cloud, Overcome by 
passion during the night, the emperor 
tried to force his way into the bedroom 
occupied by Eugénie. When she man- 
aged to repel his attempt, he pleaded, 
“How may I enter your bedroom?" 

То which the lady replied very proper- 
ly, “Through the chapel, my lord.” 

In time, that is precisely how he en- 
tered, and the marriage was celebrated 
with great magnificence in 1 

Te turned out to be somewhat less th 
an ideal match, The years 1854 and 1855 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND. 


Ribald Classic 


passed without any hint of the appear: 
ance of an heir. In despair, Eugénie 
consulted all of the wisest doctors about 
her sterility; and they employed every 
resource of science, to no avail. They 
could find nothing wrong with her. The 
empress began to wonder whether there 
might not be something wrong with her 
husband; she contemplated extreme mi 
ures. She was a lady of considerable 
beauty, but at court, she had the reputa- 
tion for being rather cold, pradish and 
unapproachable. In fact, this was not Ше 
ase. though she gave that appearance. 
One day, she begged the emperor to 
permit her to be present on the balcony of 
the T ries clock tower as he reviewed. 
troops, a ceremony that always filled 
him with the greatest pleasure. She came 
nd seated herself somewhat behind him 
and, leaning back in a nonchalant atti- 
tude, she placed her feet gracefully up 
against the iron railing of the balcony. 
Rank on rank, the brave soldiers of 
the Second Empire passed in review be- 


dı company making а rightface 
toward its imperial commander. And 
suddenly, each man discovered a sight 


even more moving than that of his Impe- 
rial Highness. It seems that the empress 
had a prejudice against wearing caleçon, 
or underdrawers; in fact, she had а prej- 
udice against wearing anything at all 
under her magnificent crinoline skirt. 
And so, as Eugénie admired the splendid 
martial form of those heroes of Sebasto- 
pol. of Italy and of Mexico, they, in 
turn, admired a pair of shapely Andalu- 
sian legs and other secret charms as w 
displayed in complete nudity. That day. 
the entire garrison of Paris could repeat 
the first two words of Julius Caesar's 
classic boast: Veni, vidi. 

Unaware of all this, the emperor de- 
scended to take his place at the head of 
his general stall. As he passed the balco- 
ny, he turned his head to meet the 
admiring gaze of his wife—only to get 
that enchanting nether view that had 
already inspired the hearts of 30,000 
men. As soon as he could, the emperor 
dismounted, rushed into the palace and 
confronted his wife with her misconduct, 

“What do you wish, my dear?” she 
asked in reply. “There's nothing very 
bad in all this. Without doubt, those 
brave men deserve some encouragement 
to their ardor. Now they realize what 
treasures of love I possess and lavish on 
you. They will love me even more for 
id” It w thus that the Empress Eu- 
génie lost her reputation for coldness 
and prudery. History does not record 
which gallant officer was most filled with 
courage by that afternoon's spectacle, 

It does, however, record the fact that 
in 1896, the empress bore a son, who was 
christened Louis. 


—Retold by Robert Mahieu EB 137 


н 
о 
LI 
= 
б 
ы 
A 


138 


LAST MAGICIAN (continued from page 72) 


apparently spent on the African and 
Asiatic grassland, with little or mo in- 
crease in brain size, even though simple 
tools were in use. Then, quite suddenly, 
during the 1,000,000 years or so of the 
Ice Age, the brain cells multiplied f 
Шу. One prominent linguist would 
place the emergence of true language at 
по more than 40,000 years ago. І myself 
would accord it a much longer history, 
but all scholars would have to recognize 
biological preparation for its emergence. 
What the fossil record, and perhaps even 
the studies of living primates, will never 
reveal is how much сап be attributed to 
slow incremental speech growth associ 
ated directly with the expanding brai 
and how much to the final cultural i 
vention spreading rapidly to other bio- 
logically prepared group: 
Language, wherever it first appeared, 
is the cradle of the human universe, а 
universe displaced from the natural in 
the common environmental sense of the 
word. In this second world of culture, 
forms arise in the brain and can be 
transmitted in speech as words are found 
for them. Objects and men are no longer 
completely within the natural world; 
they are subject to the transpositions the 
n evoke or project. The past can 
be remembered and caused to haunt the 
present. Gods may murmur in the wees; 
ideas of cosmic proportions can twine 
web of sustaining mathematics around 
the cosmos. But in the attempt to und 


brain с: 


stand his universe, man has to give away 
a part of himself that can never be 


regained—the certainty of the animal 
that what it senses is actually there in 
the shape the сус beholds. By contrast, 
man finds himself in Plato's of 
illusion. He has acquired an interest in 
the whole of the natural world at the 
pense of being ejected from it and 
returning, all too frequently, as an angry 
despoiler. 

A distinction, however, should be 
made here. In his first symbol making, 
primitive man and, indeed, even the last. 
simple hunting cultures of today, pro 
jected a friendly image upon 
Animals talked among themselves and 
thought rationally like men—they had 
souls; men may even have been fa 
тетей by totemic animals. Primitive man 
existed in dose interdependence with his 
first world, though already he 
veloped a philosophy, a kind of or 
reading of her nature, Nevertheless, he 
was still inside that world; he had not 
turned her into an instrument or a mere 
source of materials. Christian man in the 
West strove to escape this lingering illu- 
sion the primitives had projected upon 
nature. Intent upon the destiny of his 
own soul, and increasingly urban, man 
drew back from too great an intimacy 
with the natural, its fertility and its orgi- 


astic attractions. 1f the new religion was 
to survive, Pan had to be driven from his 
hillside or rendered powerless by incor- 
porating him into Christianity—to be 
baptized, in other words, and allowed to. 
fade slowly from the memory. As always 
in such 
was gained and someth 

What was gained intellectually was a 
monotheistic reign of law by a single 
diety, so that man no longer saw dis 
and powerful wood spirits in every tree 
or running brook. His animal confreres 
slunk soulless from his presence. They 
no longer spoke; their influence upon 
man was broken; the way was uncon- 
sciously being prepared for the rise of 
modern science. That science, by reason 
of its detachment, would first of all 
nature as might а curious stranger. Fin 
ly, science would turn upon man the 
same gaze that had driven the animal 
forever into the forest. M. too, would 
be relegated soulless to the wood, with 
all his Iu g irrationalities exposed. He 
would know. in a new and more relent- 
less fashion, his relationship to the rest 
of life. Yet, as the aust of his exploitive 
technology thickened, the more man 
thought he could withdraw from or re- 
cast nature; that by drastic at he 
could dispel his deepening sickness. Like 
that of one unfortunate scientist 1 know 
—a remorseless xperimenter—man's 
whole face has grown distorted. 
bulging eye—the technological, sc 
eye—was willing to count man, as well 
as nature's creatures, in terms of mega- 
deaths Its objectivity had become so 
great as to endanger its master, who was 
mining his own brains as ruthlessly as 
а scam of coal. 

Linguists have a word for the power of 
language: displacement. It is the means 
by which man came to survive in nature 
It is the method by which he created and 
entered his second world, the realm that 
now encloses him. In addition, it is the 
primary instrument by which he de 
veloped the means to leave the planet 
earth. It is a very mysterious achieve- 
ment whose source is the ghostly symbols 
that long the pathways of the 
human cortex. Displacement, in simple 
terms, is the ability to talk about what is 
absent, to make use of the imaginary in 
order to control reality. Man alone is 
able to manipulate time into past and 
future, to transpose objects or abstract 
ideas and make a kind of reality that 
s only as potential in the real world. 
From this gift come his social structure 
and traditions апа even the tools with 
which he modifies his surroundings. They 
exist in the dark confines of the cranium, 
before the instructed hand creates the 
reality. 

‘There is 
mental life 


move 


another aspect of man's 
that demands the utmost 


attention, and this is the desire for tran- 
scendence. Philosophers and students of 
ative religion have often remarked 
that we need to seek the origins of 
human interest in the cosmos, the “сос 
mic sense” unique to man. However this 
sense may have evolved, it has made men 
conscious of human inadequacy and 
weakness and may be responsible for the 
desire for rebirth expressed in many rel 
gions. Stimulated by his own uncomplet 
ed nature, man seeks a greater role, 
restructured beyond nature. Thus, we 
find the Zen Buddhist, in the words of 
the scholar Suzuki, intent upon creating 
realm of Emptiness or Void” where 
‘rootless trees grow.” "The Buddhist, in a 
true paradox, would empty the mind in 
order that the mind may fully experi 
ence the world. No creature other than 
тап would question his way of thought 
or feel the need of sweeping the mind’s 
cloudy mirror in order to unveil its in- 
sight. Man's life, in other words, is felt 
to be unreal and sterile. Perhaps а 
creature of so much ingenu 
memory is almost bound to grow alienat 
ed from his world. his fellows and the 
objects around. him. He suffers. from 
nostalgia for which there is no remedy 
except as it is to be found in the enligh 
enment of the spirit—an ability to have 
a perceptive rather than an exploitive 

relationship with his fellow creatures. 
After man had exercised his talents i 
the building of the first. neolithic cities. 
п intellectual transform: 
pon the known world, a 
ng. It is a period funda- 
mental to the understanding of man and. 
has engaged the attention of such schol- 
ars as Lewis Mumford and Karl Јаѕр 
This period culminates in the first mil 
lennium before Christ. Here in the great 
centers of ci ion, whether Chinese, 
Indian, Judaic or Greek, man had begun 
to abandon inherited gods and purely 
tribal loyalties in of inner 
world in which the pursuit of earthly 
power was ignored. The destiny of the 
human soul became of more significance 
than the looting of a province. Though 
dreams are expressed in different 
ways by such diverse men as Christ, 
Buddha and Confucius, they share many 
ins and belicls, not the least of 
which respect for the nity of the 
common man. The period of the creators 
of transcendent values, the axial think 
crs, as they are called, founded the world 
of universal thought that is our most 
precious human heritage. One can see it 
emerging in the mind of Christ as chron- 
icd by Saint John. Here the personal- 
ized tribal deity of earlier Judaic thought 
becomes transformed into a world deity. 
Christ, the Good Shepherd. says, “Other 
sheep I have, which are not of this fold: 
Them also I must bring, and they shall 
hear my voice; and there shall be one 
(continued on page 169) 


and empires, 
ən descended 
time of question 


favor 


article By WILLIAM MURRAY Fg a ovo 


сні сш RODRIGUEZ is а Small, com- 
pactly built man with an unsmiling 
face, copper colored from the suns 
of a thousand. golf coi 
doesn't beli i 


med white Par 
а muffin on his brow, he 
the ball, bı e club 1 
behind h in one lom 
beautifully vicious sweep and wha 
the ball on rising line оу 
the uphill fairway of the tenth hole 
at Indian Wells. Somebody whoops 
id a couple of hundred other fans 
g around the tee applaud 
appreciatively. Chi Chi turns to the 
crowd and sajs, "I was bom poor. 
and here 1 am, on my first hole, a 


fore play 
a duffers diary of 
the pulse-pounding action, the 
fierce competition, the exhilaration 
of victory, the heartbreak of defeat—and 
that’s just in the clubhouse—at the 
superctrcus of golf tournaments 
known as the bob hope 
desert classic 


PLAYBOY 


140 there's smiling and backslapp 


rich man." "The crowd laughs. 

‘The time is 8:28 л.м. on a Wednesday 
morning in Feb: and from the first. 
tenth tees of four different golf 
courses in Palm Springs, California, many 
of the best pro golfers in the world are 
setting out in pursuit of $125,000 in 
prizes. Chi Chi Rodriguez, as usual, is 
leading the way. Other guys may out- 
shoot him but nobody outhustles him 
and only Lee Trevino can talk in the 
same league with him. Cl is a very 
funny man. Here dur- 
ing the fiveday Bob Hope Desert Classic, 
one of the major tournaments on 
winter tour, a sense of humor is vital. 

From a spectatoi t, the place 
to be at the start of this tournament is 
somewhere along the back nine at Indi- 
an Wells. This is because the pro-am 
teams scheduled to tee olf after Rodri 
guez include Arnold Palmer, Lee Trevi- 
no, Ray Floyd, Julius Boros, Dave Hil 
George Archer, Doug Sanders and Billy 
Casper. And playing with them are Ray 
Bolger, Lawrence Welk, Hank Stram, 
Chuck Connors and Danny Thomas, ce- 
Jebritics sprinkled among the horde of ca 
indulging themselvesin w 
has become one of their favorite vanities: 
trying to match strokes with the pros. 

‘The Bob Hope clas: n that sense. an 
idiots delight. Instead of disappearing 
after the first day and leaving the serious 
golf to the professionals, as in most other 
pro-am tournaments, here the amateurs 
linger on for four full days. Playing in 
teams of three, they get to trade shots with 
a different pro cach day, in а 72-hole best- 
ball contest. Not until the final day, 
Sunday, do the low-70 pros get to play 
solely against one another for the prizes 
that are awarded on the basis of 90 
holes. The Hope is a circuslike marathon 
Iculated to put almost unbearable pres- 
sure on even cool ones like Billy Casper. 

Last February, 544 contestants were on 
hand, the amateurs all dressed up in the 
little outfits their wives had bought them; 
lot of time that first morning 
getting their pictures taken with their 
arms around each other and their pro 
partners, But then, as Palmer himself 
said at the end of that first day of the 
tournament, “It’s simply а matter of tak- 
ing a liberal attitude." “This tournament 
is unique, that’s for sure,” says Casper. 
“But if it weren't for the amateurs, the 
pros wouldn't be here.” A good point. 
Who else would have put up the prize 
moncy and made it possible for this show 
to contribute well over $1,000,000 to 
charity during the first ten years of its 
хімепсе? The amateurs each coughed 
up 500 bills to get themselves immortal- 
ized standing next to Palmer or Casper, 

nd they obviously think it's worth it; 
g all over 


and 


the 


they spent 


" says onc am; 


the place. “I love th 
You get to wear all you 
clothes and you get all these bets going. 
At night, you get drunk, And the broads! 
It'sa wild turmoil, really fun!" 

Just how much fun the pros have is 
another matter. It takes intense concen- 
tration and dedication to win the usual 
four-day tournament under normal play- 
ing conditions, but the Hope lasts five 
days and is anything but normal. “For 
one thing, playing on four different 
courses, you don't get a chance to look at 
terrain, to get fed of it" onc 
pro says. "And how can you conce 
trate for more than four days on your 
putting without coming down with a 
bad case of the yips?" In some ways. the 
Hope is the toughest tournament in 
which a pro can play. The proof of it is 
that some of them won't. Quite a few of 
the famous names were missing this year 
—Nicklaus, Beard, Player—but then, no 
pro can play in more than about 30 
tournaments a season and expect to keep 
his game up. High-stakes golf is a sport 
is and pressure. 
But first prize in the Desert Cla 
year is $25,000 and а Chrysler Imperial, 
so you'd have to mind the circumstances 
а lot to stay away. 

Arnold Palmer doesn’t mind anything. 
On the first day of the tournament, he 
strolls onto the tee to the loudest applause 
of the day. He has just been voted Athlete 
of the Decade in a nationwide poll of 
sports writers and broadcasters, so why 
should anything bother him? He is 40 
now, his hair is thinning noticeably and 
his poweri ad shoulders can't 
entirely disguise the beginnings of a 
paunch. Back in 1960, when he won the 
U. S. Open, the golf tour was a $2,000,000 
enterprise. Last year, when, 
longed slump, he came back to win two 
major tournaments back to back as the 
decade ended, the tour had become a 
57,000,000. а and it was moxly hi 
doing. "We all owe our big pay checks to 
Arnie—he's made the game what it is," 
Gary Player has said, and he's right. For 
sheer charisma, no other golfer even 
comes close to Palmer, who has already 
magnetized the vanguard of his famous 
army around the tee. He clouts а prodi- 
gious drive and somebody behind me, 
applauding wildly, squeals, “He really 
kissed that shot goodbye!” Arnie’s army 
rushes off down both sides of the Га! 
way, hurrying ahead to secure the best 
viewing points. They seem oblivious to 
the fact that one of Arnie's partners this 
morning is Lawrence Welk, a symphony 
in yellow, who hits his shots with awk- 
ward, palsied grace, his right thumb 
twitching wildly over the grip of his dub. 

Lee Elder, one of the handful of black 
pros playing on the tour, is next, but he 


the 


jassic this 


ul arms 


is delayed by ап elderly couple casually 
crossing the fairway ahead of him. Elder 
and the other blacks have never been 
invited to play in the Masters at Au 
ta, Georgia. (This year, Pete Brown, an- 
other black who played at the Hope, w 
excluded from the Masters’ invitation 
list, despite the fact that his carnings for 
the year were high enough to make the 
oversight rather obvious) Elder finally 
shoots and one of his amateur partners 
hooks wildly into what Lee Trevino, up 
next, calls Marlboro County. 

Alter Palmer, the big noise with the 
fans is Lee Trevino, the supcr-Mex. Hi 
army calls itself Lee's Fleas and its mem. 
bers spend a lot of time laughing at their 

a's jokes. Trevino. a good-looking, 
moonfaced Mexican American from Tex 
as is full of light banter. But when 
it's time to tee off, the jokes stop, and 
under his white golf cap, Trevino's face 
turns as intensely grim as a carving of 
an Aztec god. The ball soars into the 
ліг, losing itself against the light-gray sky, 

and Trevino observes, “1 sobered up fast, 
dn't 1? 1 need the moncy.” 
Jimmy Picard, ап unsung pro, hooks 
his first shot way out into the wee: 
amateur partners all slice, and somebody 
in the crowd says they won't be seeing 
one another for 20 minutes. Other un- 
known foursomes come and go now and 
the chatter around the tee becomes 
oblique: "I'm not going to take my trou- 
sers to London just to get the zippers 
fixed,” an old dufler in а green-visored 
helmet confides to an equally ancient 
buddy with a purple nose. You can't 
help but be struck by how old so many 
of the people in this crowd are. Palm 
Springs is full of retired people vegetat- 
ng elegantly in large, ranch-style house: 
with. pools and cool, green lawns. 

Now the names are back: Ray Floyd, а 
big man with a round, cherubic lace and 
curly hair—a swinger with the ladies; 
George Archer, tall and thin—a concen- 
trated, deadly putter; Julius Boros, а 
heavily built, kindly looking man in his 
50s—his big years behind him, but still a 
tough competitor; Doug Sanders, boyish- 
ly handsome, happy-golucky—a former 
winner of the Hope who hasn't been 
playing well for months, but still with a 
graceful, feathery-looking swing; Billy 
Casper, the method man, supposedly 
unflappable, precise, calculating, unexcit- 
ing to watch—but perhaps the second- 
best golfer in the world today. They are 
announced, applauded, step up, tee off 
and march away, trailing in their wake, 
like scurrying beetles, the amateurs in 
their golf carts, fanning out right and 
left in scarch of errant balls. The pros, 
you notice, always walk. 

Dave Hill has had the poor luck to 

(continued on page 176) 


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148 


LORIN HOLLANDER roll over, beethoven 


IT WAS AT THE AGE of 11, in 1956, that pianist Lorin Hollander 
made his Carnegie Hall debut and established himself as a 
Wunderkind of classical music. Thirteen years ист, Hol- 
lander made history by playing Bach and Prokofiev on an 
electronic piano in a different musical mecca: Bill Graham's 
tock palace, the Fillmore East. This experimental venture 
grew out of the red-bearded virtuoso's conviction that the 
classics had been killed for his generation by the stultifying 
atmosphere of concert halls and by wh: 

musical-education process in history.” No devotee of rock him 
self, Hollander deplores record companies that cynically 
tempt to manufacture musical tastes for the young and 
musicians who add elements of pretension to the rock idiom, 
most of which he feels 15 7 "best written on the bathroom wall.” " 
Yet he believes that the popularity of the guitar (ап “inti 
mate" instrument) and the initial impact of the new dı 
ture—which encouraged kids to concentrate on what they 
were hearing—have done much to involve people in music 
Hollander's Fillmore gig was the steppingstone to a unique, 
tripartite carcer that finds him working the concert circuit (“I 
dig it on some levels"); bringing his expertise and pithy anal 
yses of classic composers to the colleges, where he plays to 
capacity audiences: and—best of all—visiting classrooms in 
the black ghettos ("We try to feel each other's existence") 
Although New Yoik-bom Hollander plans to continue his 
musical missionary work, he and his wife left Green- 
wich Village and moved to the coast of Maine, where Lorin 
hopes to find a serenity comparable with that embodied in 
If classical music dies 
out, it will not be the fault of the music. Is too great 
music to die.” In an age of artistic overkill 
aesthetics, Hollander is doing his very best to keep it al 


he calls “the worst 


the uadition he's working to save: 


за pliable 


" 


te Teas 
Fi Beg Ja 


T 


ARAM AVAKIAN ол the road 


wrri THE PREMIERE of a celluloid psychedelic trip titled End 
of the Road, 44-year-old Aram Avakian has joined the small 
but dynamic group of Hollywood film makers who may bring 
the money back to movieland. Like most of that creative crew, 
he's served an arduous apprenticeship. After Yale University 
and military service, the GI Bill financed his studies in litera- 
ture at Paris! Sorbonne. But then his application to a Roman 
film school was rejected and he found little critical or com- 
mercial acceptance for his short-story writing style. Thinking 
he needed a change of venue, Avakian returned to his native 
New York City and tried a host of television and film jobs— 
a few of which paired him with his brother, composer and 
music director George Avakian. Then Aram joined the pro- 
duction staff of Edward R- Murrow's TV series See Ii Now 
and. later, teamed up with Iensman Bert Stern to make low: 
budget documentaries. The latter alliance produced the award- 
winning Jazz on a Summer's Day, which encouraged Avaki 
to form his own cinema company; it went bankrupt the same 
year. He landed an assignment as film editor of Girl of the 
Night and so impressed its producer that he was hired to direct 
Lad: А Dog. Differences with his boss however, got him 
canned at mid-shooting. Film editing again, he spliced The 
Miracle Worker and won himself а succession of directing offers. 
Avakian's belated debut as director of a feature-length film— 
artfully adapted from John Barth’s novel The End of the 
Road—united screenwriter Terry Southern with actors James 
Earl Jones, Stacy Keach and Dorothy Tristan (Avakian's wifc) 
in what one critic called a “mind-blowing movie.” A calculat 
edly absurd collage of abortion, adultery and death. End is 
just the beginning for Avakian's hallucinogenic brand of 
screen sorcery: He's busy making preparations to direct two 
films that just might be next. year's cinematic double-"header." 


DONALD SUTHERLAND ;..a. s.h. 


AS HAWKEYE PIERCE, the womanizing, irrepressibly insubor- 
dinate Army surgeon in M.A.S.#., Donald Sutherland 
achieved instant stardom at 34—after spending a mere 20 
years in the business, An actor even before he entered the 
University of Toronto, the 6'4” Canadian went to England 
upon graduation, where he enrolled at the London Academy 
of Music and Dramatic Art. Sutherland remained in London 
until 1967, when he won the attention of critics as one of The 
Dirly Dozen. He then scored brilliantly as a dying English 
ristocrat in Joanna, and offers began pouring in. Five films 
. Sutherland earned his starring role in M. 4. S. H., 
+ most important—and enjoyable—movie of his career thus 
far: "There we were, having a ball reliving the Korean War 
оп a ranch in Malibu, But we had absolutely no idea whether 
the movie would be a tremendous success or an enormous 
bomb." Since then, Sutherland has completed three more films 
—including the satiric swashbuckler Start the Revolution With- 
out Me. "T rented а house in Beverly Hills for my wife while 
I was in Yugoslavia for Kelly's Warriors,” he says. “She'd con. 
tributed money to the Black Panther free-breakfast program 
for kids, and while I was robbing a plastic bank in Yugoslav 
25 FBI men broke into the house and arrested her on a cl 
of buying grenades for the Panthers." The case was thrown 
out of court, but to Sutherland. the episode is symptomatic 
of “a wave of political repression sweeping across America.” 
Without copping ош, however, he is more interested in cinc- 
matic than in political activism. “The old Hollywood type of 
movie—based on entertainment as escape—is dead," he feels 
Films now amplify reality, and that excites me." Sutherland 
recently signed a contract to direct as well as to act, in 
which capacity he expects—and can be expected—to continue 
manning the barricades of Hollywood's movie revolution. 


T 


PLAYBOY 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW (continuca from page 66) 


n't long after Ag 
speeches, Even though there was coverage 
оГ the event, that part wasn't picked up. 
Another ра was made that night is 
that Nixon is bout spending ten 
billion dollars, only four billion of it Fed- 
eral money, over the next five years to 
n up water pollution. But we need 
much, much more. The best estimates 
are that it will require a Federal pro- 
am of at least 50 billion a year, and 
г amounts in other overdeveloped 
countries, over the next several decades, 
to give us a chance of surviving the 
popu 'urce-environment crisis. 
But even if sufficient funds were ap- 
propriated, the kind of sewage-treat- 
ment plants Nixon is sponsoring wouldn't 
do anything to solve the fundamental 
problem. All that happens when proc- 
essed inorganic nitrates and phosphates 
are dumped back into dhe water is that 
they're picked up by the asa nutri 
ent and turned right back 
compounds. As the algae die, their de- 
composition uses up oxygen and adds to 
the sludge at the lake's bottom. Finally, 


Even worse, some of the water that's 
used in municipal drinking supplics is 
so polluted that certain viruses seem to 
be impervious to the chlorine that's 


used to sterilize the water for drinking. 
Doctors in some areas have prescribed 
pure bottled water for infants; if air 
pollution doesn't get us first, we may liv 
to sce the day when that prescription is 
extended to adults. So water pollution is 
more than an aesthetic іпсопу 
and an injustice to fishermen; it’s a d 
gerous health hazard. We need water; it's 
essential for life. We can't afford to 
continue poisoning it. 

PLAYBOY: Oxygen, of course, is equally 
essential to life, and some of your col- 
leagues have predicted an oxygen crisis. 
Is this a real threat? 

EHRLICH: "There litde danger of an 
oxygen crisis per se. If photosynthesis 
were stopped—if the green plants that 
take in carbon dioxide and give off oxy- 
gen were all killed off by pollution— 
‘we'd eventually run out of oxygen. But 
there's a fairly large supply of oxygen 
already created. A rough calculation is 
that at the current rate of consumption, 
if the production of oxygen stopped, 
there would be about 1000 years’ supply 
left. But we won't have to worry about 
our oxygen supply, because if photosyn- 
thesis is stopped, we'll all die of starva- 
lion long before the air runs out; all 
our food comes from green plants. 
PLAYBOY: Apart from the oxygen problem, 
t there а carbon-dioxide problem? In 


ddiion to the surplus CO, created by 
the destruction of plants through pollu 
tion, paving and the like, doesn’t the 
combustion of fossil fuels emit CO, into 
the atmosphere at an excessive 
EHRLICH: Yes, it does, and this is a major 
problem. Increasingly, atmospheric CO, 
ffects the weather, but we can't acc 

rately predia the long-range effects of 
man’s climatological influences. We can, 
however, describe what he is doing to 
change the weather. The 12 percent in- 
crease in atmospheric carbon dioxide 
since 1880, in the absence of any balanc- 
ing factors, would tend—for rather com- 
plicated reasons—to warm the carth by 
a proportionate amount. But we've also 
added a number of other substances to 
the atmosphere—dust, particulate matter 
from incomplete combustion and the 
contrails of highilying jets—that have 
formed a substantial cover over the sur- 
face of the earth. This cover reflects solar 
energy before it сап enter the atmo: 

phere and warm the carth, Alone, it 
would cause a cooling of the earth. In 
combination with the CO,, it may effect 
a kind of temporary balance—but an 
unstable and unpredictable one. Metcor- 
ologists now tend to feel that the cooling 
effect is overpowering the warming one. 
PLAYBOY: What can we expect if these 
trends continue? 

EHRLICH: Irs impossible to say what the 


Whoever, wherever you are, 
you've got a lot to live. Good times, 
good people, good things to enjoy. 


Make ice cold Pepsi-Cola one 


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long-range effects of our tampering with 
the weather will be. The flow of air is 
important, so local heating and cooling 
that can't be predicted are very impor- 
tant, But the northern area of the planet 
could warm enough to melt the floating 
arctic ice pack, which would cause a 
change in storm patterns and a drastic 
reduction in rainfall over certain areas 
of North America, Europe and Asia, 
turning them into deserts, The southern 
polar region, on the other hand. could 
become so cold that the icecap would 
become thicker, thus liquefying the bot- 
tom portions under the pressure and 
causing the mass of the icecap to slump 
into the sea, raising sea levels throughout 
the world as much as 100 feet and flood- 
ing low-lying areas such as those occu- 
pied by New York, London and Tokyo. 
If the ice fell into the sea and spread 
out, another result would be that much. 
of the sunlight reaching the earth would 
be reflected and severe temperature 
drops would follow. perhaps bringing on 
a new ice age. It’s all very difficult to 
predict. And yery gloomy 
PLAYBOY: Is there any tangible evidence 
to support these cataclysmic scenarios? 

EHRLICH: Some scientists think that we're 
experiencing dramatic weather changes 
in the United States right now, and tha 
they could hurt our agriculture a great 
deal. Here's a system on which our liv 


depend more and more as the popula- 
tion gets larger, and we're changing it 
ways that we don't understand. There is 
; great tendency among politici. 
and some technologists to take the point 
of view t if the immediate effects 
seem to be OK. go ahead. In this way, 
almost without knowing it, people have 
been conditioned to accept small, steady 
increases in pollution. Los Angeles didn't 
become the smog capital of the world 
overnight. If it had been clear one night 
and choked with air pollution—as it is 
today—the next morning. people would 
have been alarmed and would have de- 
manded action, But over the years, we have 
slowly acquired a psychological tolerance 
for pollution and the other environmen- 
tal threats. We are also able to tolerate 
physiologically certain levels of pollution 
At last, however, I think we may be 
ching our limits of tolerance. The 
water in some rivers is becoming too pol- 
luted to purify by conventional means 
and evidence is accumulating that DDT 
in our fatty tissues has reached levels high 
enough to cause cancer, brain damage 
and cirrhosis of the liver. These are 
things that indicate we are approaching 
the physical limit. 

PLAYBOY: Are we equally close to the 
psychological limit? 

EHRLICH: The psychological limit may be 
farther away. Conditioned by Family 


Circle and Woman's Day, women want 
their apples to look like the flawless red 
specimens in the magazines’ advertise 
ments, so grocers spray DDT оп their 
produce to make sure no insects damage 
it in the store. Some people in England 
pay premium prices for insect-damaged 
fruit because they know it's safer than 
unblemished fruit. In the U. S., we have 

media-inspired attitude toward all con- 
sumption and production. The media 
convince us that perfectly good cars 
ought to be turned in every year in 
order to get ones with a different array of 
chrome, and that somehow its more 
swinging to drink bcer from an alumi- 
num can than from a glass bottle. 

But the power of the media is double 
edged. Now its consumerism's che 
leader; in the future, it may encourage 
ecological awareness. On the Today 
show the other day, William Е. Buckley's 
publisher, William Rusher, was saying 
that you can't blame industry for all of 
our air and water pollution—which is 
true. But Rusher said that industry con- 
tributes only around 17 percent of air 
pollution, compared with 60 percent by 
automobiles. The point he misses is that 
industry had some small role in produc- 
ing those automobiles and, even more 
than that, in manufacturing the demand 
for them. That's the bad side of the 
media problem. The good side stems 


PLAYBOY 


152 


“If they were really angry, they'd close their curtains!” 


from the fact that the media can con- 
ce people that a bottle of deodorant 
will change their sex lives, that a car will 
turn them into superstuds, that Richard 
Nixon is a statesman. If advertising can 
do that, it might even be able to con- 
vince people that big cars pollute too 
much and that fewer little consumers 
would be better for them as well as for 
the county. 

PLAYBOY: Can the complexity of the eco- 
logical problem be made dear to people 
through advertising? Wouldn't such а 
program be likely to suggest simplistic 
answers that might be counterproductive, 
in the long run? 

EHRLICH: There isa great danger of ramp- 
ant know-nothingism from all sides in 
this arca. The problems are зо com- 
plex that you can be fairly sure that no 
single simplistic solution is right. But 
people have learned the word ecology, 
and now they're going to have to start 
learning what ecology is all about and 
how it relates not only to their welfare 
but to their survival. The essentials of 
the science of ecology won't be hard for 
this well-educated society to learn; the 
hard part will be learning to live differ- 
ently than we do now—to conserve rath- 
er than to consume, to abstain rath 
than to indulge, to share rather than to 
hoard. to realize that the welfare of 
others is indistinguishable from our own. 
PLAYBOY: Can people be persuaded to 
modify their high standards of living in 
order to save the environment? 

EHRLICH: The usual concept of а stand- 
ard of living is really absurd. How do 
you measure a standard of living? By the 
number of four-slot electric toasters per 
capita? Or by the quality of education, 
ional facilities, cultural cvents and. 
physical health? But whether or not we 
decide to make sacrifices, the popula- 
tion-environment problem in the United. 
States is going to cause a decline in any 
genuinely human standa 
I think everyone knows, we're fall 
farther and farther behind in the effort 
to keep our air and water clean, to 
provide adequate schooling for our chil- 
dren and to supply good transportation 
and decent housing for our citizens. 
ven without a major disaster, our lives 
seem doomed to become nastier, shorter 
and more brutish as a result of our 
unceasing pursuit of a “high standard of 
living,” which is simply not a rational 
measure of what's desirable in life. I 
think people will begin to sce that and 
ove toward ecological sanity. 

PLAYBOY: In describing that movement, 
you have often spoken and written about 
the necessity to evolve "from a cowboy 
economy to a spaceman economy." What 
do you mean? 

EHRLICH: It's economist Kenneth Bould- 
gs phrase. But what I mean by it is 
simply that we have to get away from 
the idea that we have unlimited re- 
sources and that as soon as we deplete or 


ruin one source of supply or foul our 
campground, we can push on west. We 
should conceive of everyone in the world 
as being on a single spaceship with a 
common life-support system. 
PLAYBOY: On ап ccologically sane “space- 
ship earth,” which of the pleasures and 
privileges most Americans associate with 
the good life will we have to abandon? 
EHRLICH: We're going to have to limit our- 
selves to the things that really improve 
the quality of our lives—and the lives 
of others. Instead of getting a new car 
every year, we're going to have to force 
automobile manufacturers to make them 
last for 30 years. They'll probably be 
damnably expensive, and we may have 
10 pay for them over а period of 10 or 20 
yeas, just as we do a house; but they 
won't cost any more per year than our 
present. cars. They'll be safe, nonpollur- 
ing and well built, but they're not going 
to be designed to salve your ego or to 
give you subliminal sexual kicks; you'll 
have to get your sexual kicks out of sex. 
"rhe fancy gadgetry that now рое 
refrigerators and tends to make them 
obsolete after four or five years—things 
that automatically make ice cubes, ch 
plastic inserts, and so on—will have to be 
replaced by quality workmanship that 
will enable them to last a lifetime. You 
may have to pay more for one, but it'll 
work forever and make minimal de- 
mands on the world's supply of renew 
able and nonrenewable resources. We 
also need to change our food-distribu. 
tion system so people can get more fresh 
food—another improvement in the qual- 
ity of life. And because we'll be eating 
more fresh food, we won't need such 
tremendous freezer-storage capacity. 
What ele? We should use smaller 
washing machines, thus conserving on 
the use of metal, water, electricity and 
detergents. While we're at it, of course, 
we'll have to change the attitudes of 
society so that people don't feel they 
have to own so many clothes. We should 
also use less air conditioning; the best 
way to accomplish this is by reducing the 
need for it. People lived quite happy 
and productive lives long before the 
world was air-conditioned: if we created 
a casual society in which very light or 
little clothing was required in hot weath- 
cr, they could aga 
It's all а matter of trade-offs. You may 
have a smaller income, but you're not 
going to have to travel so far for your 
vacation, and it’s not going to be as 
expensive, and food's going to taste bet- 
ter, and the air's going to be cleaner, 
and life is going to be pleasant and 
relaxed. In essence, we need to turn the 
whole system down and start concentrat- 
ng on what life's really about. 
PLAYBOY: Can any of this be done by 
working within the present system? Do 
we make current technology тоге 
nt, family planning more strict, ap- 
a few commissions of scientists, 


establish some Government enforcement 
agencies and hope for the best? 

EHRLICH: Well, therc’s no way we can go 
on the way we're going now. "here's no 
way to make little technological modi- 
fications, put smog-control devices on 
cars, build more sewage plants and hope 
to beat the problem. That's treating a 
couple of the symptoms without tackling 


the basic problem. This isn’t to say 
that a hell of a lot can't be done with 
technology. Technologically, we could 


dodge a lot of the problems and make 
things easier. There are some immed 
ly feasible stopgaps: recycling pollu 
eliminating nondegradable containers. 
more reforesting of cutover or barren 
land, and so on. I don't want to denigrate 
these efforts. And there are a number of 
things the Government could do, м 
ing with a reorganization that will gear 
it to our needs in this area. The Federal 
Government isn't presently structured to 
handle the population-resource-envirot 
ment crisis. The Department of Agricul- 
ture rather than the Department of 
Health, Education and Welfare handles 
the food program, so poor people get 
crud like lard and white flour rather 
than high-protein food. Interior tries to 
do one thing. Agriculture the opposite. 
Something like 11 agencies deal with the 
i nd there's no coordination. We 
n overall Department of Popula- 
tion and Environment that would have 
the Census in it, large chunks of Interi 
or, large chunks of USDA and of HEW. 
It would have to have the power that 
doesn't exist today to stop other Federal 
agencies from doing environmentally 
destructive things. 

PLAYBOY: Would you say that the differ- 
ence between what we have now and the 
ideal society would be the difference be 
tween the concepts of maximal and 
optimal? 

EHRLICH: I think so. I think Stewart Udall 
puts it very well when he says that big- 
ger isn't necessarily better and more 
сап be les. Some people say we should 
have the greatest good for the greatest 
number, Well, that's a double maximi. 
tion; you can't do it: it's mathematically 
impossible. We have to, determine the 
possible amount of good and then, with- 
in the limits of our ability, decide how 
many can share it. My idea of an opti 
mum society would be one that offered the 
greatest amount of choice. An optimum 
population of the United States would 
be enough people to have big, active, 
teresting, sw s where those 
who really like fe could go and 
enjoy themselves instead of fighting trafic, 
choking on fumes, wading through gar 
bage and ducking muggers. But it would 
also be small enough so that people who 
wanted quiet rural surroundings could 
find them without having to pay admis- 
sion to see a live wee or a clean stream 
over the shoulders of hundreds of fellow 


153 


PLAYBOY 


refugees. I think it's important to main- 
tain the diversity of mankind—not just 
different life styles but different cultures, 
because I don't see any evidence that our 
culture is so good that it ought to be the 
only one that exists. Man has to learn to 
live with and value different points of 
» cultural dif- 
's something an apprecia- 
tion of the concept of ecology gives you 
and it’s something that's being wiped out 
as the population gets larger and as our 
technology spreads over everything. 

PLAYBOY: To some observers, resource 
preservation and anti-pollution as you've 
described them imply an anti-capitalist 


bias, but docs that necessarily imply a 
ist bias? 

Quite the opposite. I would 

onmental- 


that the pollutioi 


m 


say 
resource problems of socialist 


talist societies are essentia 
Soviets and the Chinese 
or worse in regard to thei 
resources as we arc. In fact, Marx- 
conceptually worse, because Marx, 
being an enemy of Malthus, found it 
unthinkable that an infinite number of 
people couldn’t be supported if the 
Communist system were running the 
world. So, bad as our Government is, it 
would be worse if it were Marxist. It's 
not a matter. of soc i 
versus capitalism; it's a matter of the ex- 
ploitive economy having to become a 
conserving, recycling economy 
PLAYBOY: How will this new 
enforce these new values? 
EHRLICH: The Government will have to 
place limits on consumption—until we 
learn to place them on ourselves. This is 
one of the problems with too luge a 
ion—more and different forms of 
Government regulation. But even with a 
aller population, there will have to be 
limits, Everybody should have a right to 
а small car; but without a permit certify- 
ing special need. you shouldn't be able 
10 get anything bigger. Everybody should. 
have one refrigerator and that's it. Limi 
it that way and then make ow 
requirements; that is, make it a 
abandon an automobile on the street — 
iot just a $25-fine sort of thing but a sei 
ous aime. In the spaceman economy, 
some functions of Government such as 
this would undoubtedly increase, but 
others would eventually decrease. It 
wouldn't need a lot of pollution-control 
functions, because the place to control 
pollution and waste is at the source, and 
people-—even x re al- 
so people, I'm told—are soon going to 
reach the point where they simply won't 
stand for any more of it. 

PLAYBOY: You've become something of a 
celebrity because of your efforts to alert 
people to the dangers of population 
growth and environmental deterioration. 
Have you begun to see any results 


ism 


economy 


turers, who 


154 EHRLICH: ‘The main result has been the 


destruction of my personal peace and 
quiet. But 1 feel it’s the job of every 
scientist and anybody else who's interest- 
ed in this fight to do everything he can 
over the next couple of years to see that 
we get some action. It’s a self-solving 
personal problem for me, because if we 
"t get action by the 1972 election, it'll 
be too late; and if we do get it then, I 
won't be needed anymore, so I can go 
back to doing what I like. Everybody's 
got to do his own thing part of the time, 
and this racing around the country mak 
ing speeches isn’t my thing. 

PLAYBOY: Apart from being aware of the 
problem, what can the average citizen do 
about the population explosion and the 
environmental crisi 
EHRLICH: He сап, first of all, limit his 
reproduction. He must do whatever he 
can personally to reduce his use of chlo- 
rinated hydrocarbons, polluting deter- 
gents, and so on, But the most important 
thing is to become involved in the poli 
system. Too many Americans don't 
vote and too many Americans who do 
vote don't know what they're voting for 
and don't pay any attention 10 what is 
actually going on їп Washington. These 
problems will take societal action to 
solve, because there is a limit to what we 
can do as individuals. But unless society 
shapes up, we've all had it. 

People should write letters to their 
Senators and Congressmen in. Washing- 
ton and to their elected state and local 
representatives. Don't expect them to do 
their jobs without relentless prodding. 
Ask them to give their positions, to ex- 
plain their votes. Keep after them— 
don't be fobbed off with those innocuous 
“Thank you for your views” form letters. 
And don’t underestimate the power of 
your letters. Congressmen and Senators 
have staffs to keep track of the mail flow. 
It can be even more effective to write 
letters to newspapers and magazines, 
which tend to be responsive to mai 

Above all, join local anti-pollution 
groups that are dedicated to doing some- 
thing and not just talking about it, And 
join Zero Population Growth [367 State 


Street, Los Altos. California 91099], 
which is working to elect c es who 


will help solve our problems and to de- 
feat those who don't understand or are 
under the control of special-interest 
groups. Z.P.G. also organizes picketing 
at hospitals with antique sterilization 
policies, works for abortion reform, smog 
control, and so ou 
PLAYBOY: How do you fecl about the 
of many people to dismiss the 


tenden 


ecology and pollution 
EHRLICH: | think they are a fad. People's 


tles as а fad? 


attention has been drawn and there's a 
tremendous amount of interest now. But 
there is a hard core of people who are 
determined to take advantage of this 
interest and mobilize it to get things 
done. We want to alert everybody to the 


problem and then recruit enough dedi- 
cated people to get the job accomplished. 
Until we succeed in doing something 
substantial about the problem, the symp- 
toms will get worse. So it’s not going to 
be a fade-out fad like hula hoops. 
PLAYBOY: What happens, though, if pub- 
lic interest does fade and the problems 
remain? 

EHRLICH: Well, most likely, we as a race 
will fade away, too. For good. I some- 
times start my speeches by saying the 
environmental crisis began on January 
second, 8000 в.с. The levity escapes my 
audiences, more often than not, but the 
message is there. As soon as man began 
to farm the land, he began to significant- 
ly alter the ecology of the planet. Every- 
thing he has done since has made the 
ion worse. For most of man's life 
on the earth, however, his disruptions 
were small enough in scale to be handled 
by the biosphere—that thin layer of 
earth, nd water which supports and 
binds together all forms of life on carth, 
But with the Industrial Revolution, man 
tipped the scales; it became possible for 
him to overload the biosphere and de- 
stroy it piecemeal. He's been doing it, 
rather stubbornly, ever since. 

When man mastered his own tools and 
intelligence enough to escape the earth 
and view it from space, however, he 
learned that what he has been given is 
not infinite. Those striking pictures of 
h taken from the moon may be the 
greatest reward of the entire space pro- 
grim—an effort that certainly isn’t eco- 
logically sound in any other way. All 
nyone who doesn't believe in the se- 
verity of the crisis has to do to convince 

imself is look at those pictures of space- 
ship earth suspended in the black void. 
‘That's it—all we have, one little orb. 

That orb and most of the other heav- 
enly bodies are much older than man. 
Many of the creatures of the carth have 
seniority over us. They made it this far 
by remaining compatible with their envi- 
ment, by adapting and adjusting to 
the natural circumstances of their ex- 
istence. There are many species that 
have vanished because they could not 
adapt. It's not at all inconceivable that 
man will follow these creatures into ex- 
tinction. If he continues to reproduce at 
the present soaring rate, continues to 
tamper with the biosphere, continues to 
toy around with apocalyptic weapons, he 
will probably share the fate of the dino- 
saur. If he learns to adapt to the finitude 
et, to the changed character 
xistence, he may survive. If not, 
nothing like him is likely to evolve ever 
again. The world will be inherited by a 
creature more adaptable and tenacious 
than he. 

PLAYBOY: Is there such a creature? 
EHRLICH: Yes. The cockroach, 


MYRAGOES HOLLYWOOD 


“Ohhh, this must be what's called lettin’ 
all hang out" Then she tums and 
exits. Sarne had told the extras to say 
anything they wanted to. One girl was 
asking, "Do you masturbate in the show- 
er?” Another said, "Let's burn all the 
pubic hair off her body with lighter 
fluid." And one extra, who used to come 
to the studio regularly im a catatonic 
state, and. never spoke, finally broke her 
silence. She stood up in the middle of the 
group and asked, “Do you fuck or suck?" 
hard Moore said. "That's the first 
thing she’s said in three days. Would 
somebody get that down? 

The studio had taken away the budget 
for all of Sarne’s other pranks, so this 
orgy was going to be й for him, his 
llini moment for the whole picture 
ie producer. Robert Fryer, was stand- 
ing there watching, with two of the exec- 
utives from Fox, two of the little gray 
people who survive all the administia- 
tions because they never make a commit 
ment to anything. One of them said. 
“Well, it's a today picture.” and Fryer 
Bullshit! Midnight Cowboy didn't 
have pubic hair and filth in it.” Here was 
the producer secing what he was sceing: 
the movie was going to have his name 
on it, and he was unable to do anything 
about it. Incredible! 


(continued from page 80) 


But finally, even Richard Zanuck got fed 
up with all the expenditure and all the 
insanity that was going on and he told 
Sarne, "You must shoot everything you 
have left to shoot by the 19th of Decem- 
ber, because this movie ends on that 
date. 105 over. If you have to work all 
night that night, then that is what you 
will do.” On the 18th, even the stand ins 
were coming up to me and asking, “Ts 
it wue? Are we really going to stop 
shooting tomorrow? Is it really all ove 
And I would answer, "You've got me. A 
quarter of the picture is still unshot and 
there’s still no ending.” As of this writing 
—in late May—there still isn't. But Fox 
is waiting for Samce to give them a fin- 
ished cut. God only knows what they're 
going to get 

Sarne is crafty. though. He knows the 
release date for this picture is coming up 
fast. He also knows he has a contract 
that says Fox can't fire him until he 
gives them the first cut. so he keeps 
cutting and cutting and cutting. He 
figures if he gets them up against the 
wall and he still hasn't delivered the first 
cut in time for release, then the movie 
will have to open with whatever he puts 
together. It will be too late for them to 
But they're very crafty, 
too. because they won't allow him near 


reassemble it. 


the negative. They have it locked up in 
a vault and he can't even get in to see 
it. They know that no matter what he 
docs to the picture, they can go back and 
get the footage he's cut out, if necessary. 
There was a rumor that he cut Mae West 
out of the movie to such a degree that 
she was only а bit player. Zanuck said. 
“What are you doing? You must be out 
of your mind! All the people are coming 
to see Mae West, not Michael Sarnc. 
"The word is that Mae West's footage was 
reinserted. 

1 got a call from Fox that broke me up 
а few weeks after I returned to New 
York. The caller said, “You know, there 
are still some things about the movie 
that don't make sense.” I 
ding!" Then he said, 
going to write ation so he won't 
have to shoot anything more. You will 
recount off-screen all of the things that 
never happened in the movie.” So I had 
to go back out there for more work. It 


s 
bcen one endless battle to get this film 
out. I can hardly wait to sce it—when 
and if it’s ever released. My makeup man 
summed it all up best. He said, “ 


оч 
remember the old Hollywood line, ‘Who 
do you ha to get into this 
picture? Well. on this movie, everybody's 
asking, "Who do you have to screw to 


get out of it?" 


ve to screw 


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155 


PLAYBOY 


156 


double hannenframmis 


right along, because if I go back to being 
me, I'll, like, lose the taste of 

“1з a very weird sensation." 

“Honey, we better go over the little 
scripts. Here's your copies. Soon as we 
get to sounding natural, then we can put 
them on the tape.” 

Russo had worked out 
Ruth McGann became very 
with Wyatt when he could not get away 
from the sound of somebody reading 
something. Once he had the sense of it, 
she made him put it aside and adJib it. 
Finally, by changing her own lines, she 
was able ıo help him sound natural. 

They taped the first exchange and 
then listened to it on playback. 

You got time for more colle, dar- 
ling?” she asked. 

“I guess so. Sure.” 

"Wyatt?" 

“What is it?” 

“I think there was a Kallen girl in 
school with me in Auanta. Could that be 
the вате family 

"Where did you get that name from, 
Mary Lou?” 

“Well, I couldn't hardly help seeing 
All those papers about the Kallen Equip- 
ment Company all over your desk in the 
study. I don't let Maria go in there, but 
somebody has to do a little bit of dusting 


the dialog. 
tated 


(continued from page 124) 


and deaning. I saw the m nd I 
wondered about that gir 
“1 don't know. The company is in 
higan," 
That's who you went up there to see 
last week?” 


ame 


M 


g to the tape. he could appre- 
ciate Russo's cleverness, It backdated the 
most six months 
strictly confidential, 


honey.” 

"Oh! Are you going to buy that little 
апу? My goodness, if you keep 
ng things, doesn't it get hard to 
k of everything?" 
with the team I've got working 


on buyi 
keep tr 

“Not 
for me. 

"But why do you want that little 
company?” 

“Because it’s there, honey.” 

“Oh, come on!” 

“Well, for instance, they've got about 
million dollars" 
land, at fair resale value, and it's carried 
on their books at what it cost them 
way, way back, Eight hundred thousand 
dollars.” 

Wow! Do еу know th 

“They sure do, honey. That's why we 
might have to give them one share of 
Wsro for every share of Kallen outstand- 
ing. which is a difference of better than 


sixteen worth of raw 


“Subliminally, what we're saying 
, Chew our bubble gum and you wont have to 
mess around. with the hard stuff?” 


twice wh 
big board.” 

Now you've lost me, sweetheart, More 
coffee: 


their shares are worth on the 


“I better run, If you get a chance, find 


out about the suit the cleaner lost. 

Ruth McGa switched it off. “You're 
itle wooden, bur it's good enough 
Let's get these others done.” 

There was one where she pried into 
the profitability of Wyro until he told 
her that their next quarterly carnings 
statement was going to be about hall of 
what had been estimated, and another 
where he told her he had decided to 
break off negotiations to acquire Hen- 
derson Homes. 

After Ruth had listened intently to the 
playback, she turned off the equipment 
and sighed, plucked the two wads of 
pinkplastic substance from her mouth, 
got up and went into the bathroom. 
When she came back, she sa in her 
normal voice, “That should do ii 

“But what happens next? How can 
Russo explain the reason the tapes were 
made in the first place?" 

"There's a lot of options. He won't 
come into it at all. Somebody will show 
up with the tapes. In the interest of fair 
plav and all that. Mr. Russo makes 
thing logical. Don't worr 


guess, but it wor 
o ahead.” 
"Some woman h; 


and, because it isn’t exactly 1 
sends the tapes in with an anonymous 
tion, sends them to your 


attorneys." 


“That won't be enough.” 

Not without some trimmings. Maybe 
a fake phone tap. Mary Lou talking to 
an unidentified boyfriend." She switched 
to Mary Lou's voice, "Swectl Im 
doing the best I can, I really am 
tention to 
ness stuft in the past. I've been 
asking him everything you told me to ask 
him. lover, and I've been telling you 
everything һе says: but when can we stop 
1 this? When will you have enough. 
money, so we can go away, my dearest? 1 
think of you every living minute of the 
ay and night, honest. 1 love you so.” 

He found that he was standing. And 
roming. "No, damn ii! 1 won't stand 
for that! 

“Deary, you were very shifty the way 
you worked those accounts. Nobody c 
tie you directly to them, Mr. Russo а 
But he says you were stupid with the 
timing, be u made your moves in 
is of inforn 
known to you alone, He says vou were 
greedystupid, ng in at the bottom 
id out at the top. And you pulled the 
cash out in such а way that it can't be 
traced back to you.” 

“I had to do something! Too many 


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24 


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g at the same 


"We 
tions, sugar. You made you 


little rationaliza- 
moves and 
you siphoned off the cash; and if you 
hadn't, you couldn't afford Russo to gct 
you into the clear. But you didn't de 
clare it and you haven't planned on 
paving taxes on it. And unless you can 
throw them some alternative, you get 
your pick of Leavenworth or Atlanta or 
some other garden spot.” 

"But 1 was doing it for 

Wise and crooked smile, too old for 
her mouth and face. “For the wife and 
kiddies? Come on! Any way you deal 
the hand, you've lost your Mary Lou 
Best to set it up to look as if somebody 
was using her. Otherwise, she could get 
clipped for tax evasion. Aft 
the tapes and question her, 
you testify that those are c 
you had with your wife, you think she'll 
and forget?" 


all have our 


nversations 


forgive 
Vo. 

“If there has to be more trimmings. 
Mr. Russo will provide them, A motel 
witness. Look at it this way. In the clear, 
fford to give her big 
If they nail you, she might have to work 
waitress to support those kids.” 

He sat on the couch, elbows on his 
knees. forehead resting on the heels of 
his hands, shoulders hunched high. Did 
not know he was weeping silently until 
he felt the tickle of the tears, Ruth 
McGann was pulling out the intercon- 
necting jacks, puuing the equipment into 
fitted cases. 
On one inl 
nd inadvertent snorting sound. She 
beside him and said softly, “Hey. Hey. 
now. 

"E can't... сат 
and strangled. 

Strong grasp pulled the nearest hand 
away. Warm hand against his far cheek, 
turning his Face toward her. 

"Poor sad sorry bastard," she whis- 
pered, her face soft. Hand still on his 
she ran the ball of her thumb. 
under his eye. "ls it 
she asked. 
s... the worst p 
now. . 


loud. 


ation, he made a 


. . ." Voice gritty 


art, Ruth. I 


don't . how much I mean it 
ү... or if I mean it ac all" 
T know. So later on, you can tell 


yourself that whe 
cried. 
How do you know so much?" 
"When I was fifteen, I was the voice of 
seventeen or eighteen rotten little ani- 
mals in cheap commercials, deary. It 
kept me from ever having anything of 
my own to say.” She leaned close and 
put her mouth on his, her lips soft, 
clever, unendingly sweet. 
After he had his arms around 
ting her back, she pushed 1 
She mocked herself with her sr 
so I have this Earth Mother kick. The 


it happened, you 


her, 


sky fell c 
rotten. Go yank those dra 


your head and you are pretty 
peries acros 


honey. 

‘Then after they were in th 
lations explosive at each readying 
s, her body lifting and wanting, she 
stopped. him as he moved to enter her, 
her face sweaty in the halflight, seen 
through the tumble of her 

Breathing like a runner, he said, 
“The worst part. Sure. Not knowing how 
much I me 
if I mean it at all, 
сап,” 

"Shut up. Shut up." 

“I don't like, Don't like either one of 
love. Is that why I'm so ready? Is that 
how? How ] know I'm going to make 
ic 


bed, her 


"Shut up.” 

“All right. Come on. then, chief execu- 
tive officer of everything. 

Four months and four days late 
awoke from a Sunday-afternoon nap 
the beach-front cabana at the new hotel 
in Puerto Rico. The dream had sweated 
him. soured his mouth. In the dream, he 
stood small before a judicial bench so 
high that he could not see the face of the 
sentencing judge. Hollow. solemn, echo- 
ing voice. “Wyatt Rutherford Ross, this 
court finds you guilty of hannenframmis 
in the first, second and third degrees. 
Terror. “Your Honor! Your Honor! 
I don't understand the charge.” 

“And sentences you to three consecu- 
tive terms of life imprisonment. May 
God have mercy on the soul you should 
have had. 

“Your Honor! I can't even sec you.” 

He got up and padded into the bath- 


һе 


room and rinsed his mouth. He looked. 
at his sumbrowned holiday face in the 
mirror and said, “I plead guilty to han- 
nmis in all the degrees you got, 


He went back into tlie bedroom and 
found his damp swim trunks and pulled 
them on. Tuck the dream away. Hide it 
behind the wel-remembered newspaper 
tures, Ross cleared on stock-manipula 
m charges. Executive's wife implic 

pformation leak. Surprise 
played in closed committee session. Mrs. 
Wyatt Ross denies love affair, says evi- 
dence is faked. Surprise witness heard in 
closed session. Hotel registrations sub- 
poenaed. Wife refuses to reveal identity 
of mystery man, denies his existence. 

SEC clears officers of Мую Int 
tional Services. Trading in Wyro resumed 
Divorce action filed. Kallen 
tion plans dropped by Wyro. due to 
drop in price of Wyro common after 
release of earnings report. Wyatt Ross 
announces spin-off of three earlier ic 
ns, concentration on the most 
able product lines and services, im- 
proved future earnings through internal 
growth instead of acquisition route- 

Done. For $500,000 fed cautiously into 
the channel that ran from New York to 
Miami to Nassau to Zurich and into the 
proper account, the mumber furnished 
by a small, quiet, dead-faced man named 
Willy Ruso. So he'd moved his own 
through the same pipeline, what he had 
left after Russo's bite, into the numbered 
ıt he'd set up duce years ago, 
with orders to keep the money worl 
make it grow. The Swiss have a talent 
for it 

All done, And the old strike force had 


acquisi- 


ассо! 


157 


Го. 


AUN UNUM 


Ld 


dropped away, one at a time. Stanley 
Silverstalf first, taking the best of the 
outstanding offers. Then Stannard, going 
back into private practice. Then Haines, 
leaving to go into that think tank mys- 
ifornia at a fifth of what he 
industry. 

Just as well That team had been 
geared to acqu to ng the 
careful stalk, the daring pounce. Differ- 
ent ball game now. Chop away at all 
xpand 
ting markets. Improve the products 
and services. Need a different type. 
Dogged, methodical men. No noisy cele- 
brations in the private jet on the way 
home from victory. In faet, no company 
jets at all. Dwindling need. Cut the costs. 

No need for the hearty devices that 
create the kind of team spirit that used 
It is too 
difficult to fire your friends. Easy to fire 
uneasy strangers. Set the goals. Promote 
the men who can meet them, fire those 
who can't. And keep upping the goals. 

Heard the stealthy key in the lock. 
Door opened. Geri Housner came in 
Dark-blue bikini with white ruffles. Can- 
vas beach bag. Last one left. Incompa 
bly loyal and efficient executive secretary. 
Incomparably elegant lady, slender and 
cool and unconsciously provocative. Four 
s of her executive-sccretarial services 
had left him at times in such a rage of 
desire, it had 
self-control to keep 
affable, impersonal ba 
her continuing efforts, 

She was опе of the rare ones, so good 
at any task he gave her that he knew he 
would never find another as useful. 
he was all too aware of the imp! 
rules of the game. The day you tumbled 
a good one into bed was the day you 
started to lose her, The office ma 
was a transient arrangement. It might 
take a year, or two, or possibly three at 
the most, Then she would leave or you 
would crowd her out 
" she said. “ 


the costs, direct and overhead. 


e 


to be so useful, Stay remot 


ken the last fragment of 
t all on the polite, 


is that guaranteed 


Just about to go beach-walking, look- 
ing for you. Have a good swim? 
ig for y 8 


“Lovely. Absolutely lovely. Have a 
nice nap?" 

“Not so lovely 

She patted her dark һай and come 
toward him with a look of conc 
"What do you ? Whars wrong 
Wyatt?” 


“A dream. A dumb dream. Woke me 
up tired. 


ling.” 
He caught her wrist weed, sat on 
е bed and stood her in front of him, 
between his knees, hands on her slender 
aned waist. He grinned up at her, 
tched clinical way 
her mouth softened and sagged open, the 
way her h ned to become too 
heavy for the slender neck. She had 


w with interest. the 


ad 5 


been so constrained, so stiff and awkward. 
and shy for the first week, he had begun 
to think that her look of sensuality held 
under control had been ironic illusion. 
And then, all in a rush, she had come 
on, found it all, relished it all. g on 
that edge of readiness that needed. only 
his touch to start the flowering. 

“I should take my shower,” she said in 
a small blurred voice. 

He pulled her across him, onto the 
bed, and in the lazy light of the late 
afternoon, peeled her out of the bik 
and slowly, indolently, knowingly m. 
love to her. In one slow, sweet, cantering 
pace. the time when a ubiquitous com- 
mercial song about manly cigarettes 
would sometimes come into his head, 
instead there came the Ruth-Mary Lou 
voice, saying, "Maria gets so all gloomy 
amd dramatic when there's any kind 
of family trouble, especially finan 
problems. Especially fye-nance-you-wull, 
Fye-nance-you-wull, Fye-nance-you-wull. 
‘Timed to thrust and riposte. 

Grab at some other nonsense phrase to 
drive the first one away. Like singing a 
song to get rid of a song. 

"Guilty of hannenframmi: 

"What? What, darling? 
ing up out of motion 
Nothing." 

“Guilty of something." 

“Hush, darling. Come on, now." 

He had sensed that she was close 
his idiot phrase had shifted her conc 
tration. She was working but not making 
it back to where she had been. He knew 
that he could not wait and did not want 
to stop, so he rocked 10 the side and. 
her a great ringing stinging slap on her 
sea-silty, sweatsalty elegant haunch. So 
she yelped, leaped like a racing mare, 
clung and came thundering home. 

So later, dazed face frowning down at 
him, propped up on her elbow. “Wh 

it you said about guilt 
Guilty of hannenframmis." 

“What did they used to call that? 
Double talk. Yes. Why did you say it 
then? 

"It came into my mind, I guess.” 

“Why would it come into your mind?” 

For God's sake, Geri! Nobody knows 
what makes things come into your mind." 

"There's always a reason, they 

“OK. I don't know the reasoi 


lc 


he said. 
she asked, 
nd lostness. 


sp: 


but 


whatever that is?” 

^L was guilty. 1 was in court, They 
gave me three life sentences." 
ling, I don't want you to be trou- 
bled. I don't want you to have bad 
dreams. I don't want us to think about 
anything but us, There’s only three more 
days.” 


not troubled! 

“You wouldn't be cross to me И you 
weren't" She got up with quiet dignity 
and went into the bathıoom and dosed 
the door. Soon he heard the shower. 


“Fye-n: 
wull. Fy 
baby. Ma 
boys. 

He sighed and got up 
the bathroom and made jokes and 
saubbed her narrow lovely back, 
she was in a good mood and wear 
pretty dress when they went up to the 
hotel, had rum drinks, watched the sun- 
set, ate steaks, danced. 

They walked on the beach and then 
went back to the cabana. He had 
brought a newspaper back from the ho- 
tel. While she got ready for bed, he 
looked at the stock-market reports. Kal- 
len was in the high 40s, up а point and 
a hall for the day on high volume. She 
came over in sheer shorty nightgown, 
spicy aroma of perfume, dark eyes shin- 

ng, kissed him meaningfully, told him 
to come to bed, kind sir. Right away, 
ma'am. 

The lights were bright in the bath- 
room. He could smell her soap and lo- 
tions and the lingering steamy-sw 
odor of her body. He tried to summon 
desire, but there was none. None at all. 

Finished brushing teeth. Examined 
teeth in mirror. Turned toilet lid down. 
at on it, Had feeling he was looking for 
something and would not know what it 
was unless he happened to sce it. Or see 
something that reminded him of what it 
s he was looking for. 

He saw his dark-red robe on the hook 
on the back of the door, The belt was a 
thick white cotton rope. He got up and 
pulled the white торе out of the loops. 
He turned and looked up over the tub. 
at the brace that held the high window 
open. A very sturdy brace. Well made. 

So two nonsense things could be fitted 
together double “гу 
nance you-wull hannen Ir did 
not sound well said aloud, but he discov 
ered he could say it inside his head 
effectively. Fast or slow. High or low. 
Loud or soft. 

Slipknot. Stand on edge of tub. Wedge 
knot firmly into narrow end of brace. 
Give tug. Now keep saying it all inside 
your head, fellow, because big Ruthie 
McG. ding back there some- 
where, shouting, uying to get through. 
And she is yelling something about 
meaning it or not 7 
knowiug i[ anything means anything. 
Crap like that you can do without. 5o fy 
nance-you-wull-hannenframmis the hell 
out of her. Throw up a cloud of it. 
Wet the rope. Makes the knot harder. 
Good thought. Edge of tub. Erection? 
Why erection, when the elegant lady 
doesn't do a thing for it tonight? Keep 
that old double nonsense coming, fellow. 
Loud and fast and all inside the head. 
Yank tight. Take step. And keep it loud 


and fa 
Ba 


1ce-you-wull. 
»-nance-you-wull. 
ту well, Take good car 


nd 


wa 


into nonsense. 


ammi: 


is м 


теа 


159 


» 


PLAYBO 


160 


STAR-SPANGLED JIVE 


Nothing's too good for you wonderful 
GIs. 

MC CALLISTER: 
Canteen! 
Porter: Wait'll you see Hedy Lamarr 
g on tables and Betty Grable wash- 
ing dishes. 
стлвк: Hedy 
Hubba-hubba! 
MC CALLISTER: Lead us to 
PORTER (picking up the three duffel bags): 
This way to the Hollywood Canteen. 

MC CALLISTER: Golly, what a swell town. 
коктен: Soldier, there's nothing us folks 
Hollywood wouldn't do for you great 
guys 

салик: We'll never forget you, Pop. 
What's your name? 

PORTER. (struggling with the duffel bags): 
De Mille. But you boys can call me 
Cecil. 

cur TO a war plant а few miles outside 
of Los Angeles. As we COME IN, we see 
scores of workers hammering, riveting 
and welding. The noise is deafening, but 
the workers go at it with a will, 
van the walls 


Wow! The Hollywood 


Lamarr! 


Betty Grable! 


n: 


DET 


ге can see signs such as st 


on EMY MAY BE LISTENING, A МАР 
OF THE Lip MAY SINK A sump, etc. We 
токов on three figures riveting the 


fuselage of a plane. They are wearing 
face shields. Suddenly, they stop and 
remove their shields. They are all wom- 
en. More than that, they ате BETIY 
YON, ANN MILLER and MARTHA RAYE 


(continued from page 108) 

They burst into the song “Rachel the 
Riveter,” which describes how the gals 
behind the guys behind the guns are 
giving their all to help keep this nation 
free. From the song, MILLER segues into а 
rhythmic tap routine across various wing 
and tail assemblies, after which the en- 
tire factory joins the girls in chorus and 
all go into intricate marching and danc 

The number ends with all the 
s forming a V for Victory, with 
the heads of HUTTON, RAYE and MILLER 
cach forming a dot beneath it, alongside 
a huge six-girl dash. 

DISSOLVE TO 4 scene of renewed activ 
пу. COME IN ON aur gals freshening their 
make-up before donning their face shields 
once again. 
RAYE (to HU 


fon): What are you doing 


tonight, 
murros: E thought I'd do some 
Tor Britain, Irene. 


RAYE (fo MILLER): What about you, Mary? 
› work on my 
Victory garden, then help my father bur 
a Victory suit, and then send off a V-mail 
letter and а У disc to my brother over- 
seas, 

HUTTON: Say, girls, 1 have a keen idea. 
Why don’t we all go over to the Red 
Cross and give blood again? 

think it’s a little too soon. 
RAYE: Yeah, we just gave six pints this 


“Why, Mr. Mack! What are you doing here at this late hour?” 


nurron: I guess you're right. It was just 
a thought 

MILLER: Say, Sally, aren't you seeing 
eddie tonight? 

noros: He's working on the swing 
shift. But he said he'd pick me up at 
midnight. 

MILLER: 


y. could I ask you a personal 


question? 
HUTTOX: Shoot 


си: Are you in love with that big 


HUTTON (hesitating): Well, he's very kind 
to me and he's . . . decent .-. and he 
MILLER: Thats not what I asked you. 
Are you in love with him? 
x (defensively): Lool 
times there are things 


Mary. some- 
ore important 


than . . . well, love. You know, com- 
panionsh understand 
MILLER: 


h 
crime to be 


Freddie: 
four.F! 
Rave: Easy, hone; 
the subject. Listen, I just got 
idea. Why don't we all go ov 
Hollywood Canteen tonight? 


1 suppose ivs a 


Look. kids, let's drop 


nurrox: The Hollywood Canteen? 


show 
st get а 


MILLER: Don't you have to be 
business to do that? Or at lez 
special invitation? 

rave: Narch. And we gol an invitation. 
This morning at the blood bank, 1 mer 
somebody in show business. Well he's 
-... Hes Ar- 


HUTTON: What's he like? 
Rave: Very nice, And he i 


пса us. What 


do you say? Are you kids game? 

MILLER: Count me in. 

HUTTON: Well, I suppose I could go for a 
little while. 


RAYE: Then it’s settled. Tonight it's the 
Hollywood Canteen. 

A whistle blows and the foreman 
(LYLE TALBOT) comes walking up to them. 
All right, girls, fun is fun, bur 
got а job to do. Our boys over 
ing on each one of us to 
do his share. Remember, freedom is a 
twenty four-hour job! 

The three girls give a thumbs-up sign. 
Gwis (in unison): Keep ‘em flying! 

They put on their shields and go back 
th a will. 

cur то the Canteen. Hundreds of Sero- 
ісетеп are milling around, drinking 
coffee and munching on doughnuts. As 
we PAN the huge тоот, we can see some 
soldiers and hostesses dancing. On the 
bandstand, msy DORSEY and his band 
ате playing, while MELEN O'CONNELL is 
singing “Jivin’ to Berlin.” 

cur TO the entrance of the Canteen, 
MC CALLISTER, CLARK and WAYNE are walk- 
ing in. Greeting them at the door is 
BETTE DAVIS. 
элу: Hi, fellows. Welcome to the Hol 
lywood Canteen. 

MC CALLISTER (doing a take): Hey, 


No, it 
. Bette 


minute . . 
couldn't be. 
Davis! 
pavis (modestly): "Thats what they сай 
me. 
CLARK (incredulously): Well, ГЇЇ be darned 
. . Bette Davis! 
Nc CALLISTEK: Golly, Miss Davis, imagine 
a big like you ta i 
spend time with nobodies like us- 
pavis: What do you mean, nobodies like 
you? Soldier, it's men like you who stand 
between all of us and the most unspeak- 
able tyranny of all time. Besides, I'm not 
the only one who's helping out here 
You sec that fellow over dicic. 
сот TO CLOSE-UP of JAMES CAGNEY car- 
ying dishes. cur WACK TO MC CALLISTER, 
MC CALLISTER: I don't believe it. Why. 


- aren't you... . 
... Why, you're . . 


thats . . . that’s James Cagney! And 
he's bussing tables! 

bavis: And proud of it, soldier. And 
there's Lana Turner sweeping the floor. 


CUT 10 CLOSE-UP Of LANA TURNER doing 
just that. сит BACK TO DAVIS. 
pavis: Oh, there's someone you might 
know. 

сот TO CLOSE-UP of M 
MC CALLISTER: No, don't 
couldn't be. Why, it’ 
Hayworth! 

CUT 10 RITA HAYWORIM coming toward 
them, carrying a huge receptacle, сот 
BACK TO MC CALLISTER. 
MC CALLISTER: And she's carrying garbage! 
HAyWoRTH (struggling by with the can): 
And loving every minute of it, sollici 
Сой bless all of you boys. 

CUT BACK To the bandstand, where 
srine Jones and his band are playing the 
hilarious "Der Führer Shtinks" The 
song ends, the bandstand revolves and 
onstage пош are WOODY HERMAN and his 
band, giving out with the jivey "Hacken- 
sack Bounce.” 

CUT 10 M 
push Г 
CLARK: Wow, that music! I can't keep 
my dogs still. I just gotta cur a rug! 

They are passing a table al which are 
sealed MUTTON, MILLER and RAYE, CLARK 
goes over 10 RAY 
CLARK: Hey, little de-icer, what do you 
say you and me have а jam session’ 
ave: Well, aw reat. I'm hep to th 

They head for the dance floor. 
MC CALLISTER (fo HUTTON and MILLER): 
Do you girls mind if my buddy and I sit 
dow! 
MILLER: Be our guests. 

They sit down. 

MC CALLISTER: I'm Bob and this is Texas. 
The other fellow is Brooklyn. 

ниттох: I'm Sally . . . that's Irene Çin- 
dicales RAVE walking off with CLARK) . . . 
and this is Mary. 

cur ro the dance floor. CLARK and 
RAYE ате jitterbugging wildly. 

CLARK: Wow, are you a solid sender! 
RAYE: [hear you talking, gate! 

cur mack то the table. ctose-ur of 

MCCALISTER and HUTTON. 


LISTER, 
tell me. It 
п Ш me 


jive 


мє CALLISTER: Golly, there are so many 
celebrities around here, it sorta makes 
you all goose-bumpy. There's Alexis 
Smith waiting on tables and Joan Craw- 
ford checking hats and Deanna Durbin 
passing out cigarettes. 
nutron: They're all so pretty, it kind of 
puts uy mere mortals to shame. 
ме CALLISIER (looking at her earnestly): 
Oh, no, Miss Sally, I chink you're pret- 
tier than all of th 
HUTTON: Gee, I could kiss you for saying 
that. 
MC CALLISTER: Gosh, no one's ever kissed 
me before . . . 'ccptin Мот. 
HUTTON (something inside her stirring): 
Your mom is а... (lowering her eyes) 
lucky gal. 

She steals а quick glance at him, then 
looks down again. 

CUI TO WAYNE and MILLER at the other 
end of the table. 
миш: You don't talk too much, do 


you, Texas? 


waynr: It's hard to k, ma'am, when 
your buddies are getting it on Tarawa. 
Guam and Iwo from a bunch of yaller, 
bucktoothed, slanty-cyed gooks. 

MILLER: You poor kid. You've got a lot 
of hate in you. . . . (She sighs) But I 
guess I can't blame you. Look, Tex: 


can't you forget the War for a minute 
and think of something else? 


t know. Me, may- 
be. . . . (Catching herself jor being so 
bold) 1 mean— 


ight, ma'am. May- 
be there are other things besides war and 
killin’, Maybe, with all the dyin’ goin" 
on, there should also be time for livin’. 
You know somethin’? . . . For the rest of 
this evenin’, I'd like to think of noth; 
but good and decent things . . . like 
demoaacy and brotherhood and 
you. (Rising from his chair) But first, I 
got a little job to do. 

мишка: What kind of job, Texas? 
wayne (indicaling а тап standing near 
by): I'm gonna get that dirty Nip over 
there. 

MILLER (grabbing his arm): Tes 
Keye Luke! He's Chinese! 
WAYNE (silting down reluctantly): All 
them gooks look alike to me! 

CUT TO CLARK and KAYE оп the dance 
floor. They have just stopped jitterbug- 
ging and have joined a large circle of 
people who are watching a NEGRO sor- 
Dier and а NEGRO wac doing a wild 
lindy. They dance with lightning speed. 
He lifis her into the air, throws her over 
his back, pulls her down, shoots her 


that’s 


“Well, why do you come to parties, if you 
don't want to ball?” 


161 


PLAYBOY 


under his legs and lifts her up again. 
They spin around and dance at an 
incredible pace, then finally stop to tu- 
multuous applause. 

CLARK (lo the N 
Jackson! 

NEGRO SOLDIER: Th s. boss. 

He shuffles off slowly to а table in the 
rear of the hall. 

CUT TO MILLER and Wayne al the table. 
A burly sailor (MIKE MAZURKI) (aps MIL- 
LER on the shoulder. 

Mazurki: Hey, hot patootie, let's you and 
me take a little spin on the dance floor, 
MILLER (looking al WAYNE): Well, Т 
WAYNE (10 MAZURRI): Back oll, 

. . The lady's with me. 
ays who, gyrene? 

s me, that's who. 

as, please don't fight . . . 
not on my accou 

WAYNE rises. He and MAZURKI square 
off, then proceed to take turns punching 
each other in the mouth. 

сот TO à group of MARINES in the rear 
of the Canteen. 

MARINE оме: Hey, leathernecks . . 
ble with the swabbies. 

MARINE TWO: Where? 

MARINE ONE: Two fingers left of the 
bandstand. 

MARINE TWO: Lead us to it. 

CUT TO a group of элшз in another 
part of the Canteen. 

Let's go, mates. The Marines 


ко SOLDIER): Solid, 


swab 


. trou- 


SAILOR TWO: Let's land on the Marines, 

CUT TO WAYNE and MAZUKKI knocking 
each other down. Other SAILORS and MA- 
kies arrive and they begin punching 
one another, stopping only long enough 
to sock a bunch of sormiers who throw 
themselves into the fray. A mad, wild 
interService brawl goes into full swing 
with liberal sacking, kicking and smash- 
ing over heads of chairs and tables. By 
this lime, WAYNE has MAZURKI pretty 
much at his mercy and is knocking him 
down, picking him up and knocking him 
down again. 
WAYNE (punching mazurki): Here's one 
from the halls of Montezuma. . . . 
(Drags him up by the collar) And here's 
one from the shores of Tripoli. . . . 
(Knocks him down again) 
Ur TO BETTE DAVIS оп the bandstand, 
trying to make herself heard over the 
battle. 
pavis: FELLOWS, PLEASE! . 
STOP, FELLOWS! 

Slowly, the battle subsides and all is 
quiet again. 
pavis: Listen to me, 
bunch of GIs. . 
lot of tension 


-PLEASE 


you wonderful 
€ you have а 
vou that has to 
come our. But why waste it on each 
other? Lers save some of that for the 
Ratis and the sneaky sons of Nippon. 
Come on, let's shake hands and make up. 
What do you say? 

cur то wave holding the helpless 


162 MAZURKI by the collar, with his fist drawn 


back. wAzvnkt, who has absorbed at least 
15 punches to the mouth, is amazingly 
devoid of battle scars, save for a slight 
scratch over his right eye. 

wayne (grudgingly putting down his fist 
and propping MAZURKI up against the 
Well, maybe she's right. . . . (E: 


guess we're all in this together, gyrene. 
Suddenly, all the combatants begin 
shaking hands and throwing their arms 
around cach others shoulders, They 
then break into the rousing, patriotic 
number “We're All Yanks Together.” 
After the song, cur то the bandstand. 


ARLIE 5 


c лк and his band start play 
ing a soft, dreamy fox trot. cur TO the 
dance floor. where couples ave gliding 
by. Keep rANNING until we sror and 
CLOSE IN ON MCCALLISIER and MUTTON, 
They are dancing check to cheek. 

MC CALI Sally, just think, 
here w nd having fun, 
and in only а few minutes, all us Gls 
here will be shoving off for overse: 
on (stunned): In a few minui 
of you? Where did you hear that? 
MCCALLISTER: From the attendant back 
there in the latrine. 

But how can you believe an 
attendant in the katrine? 
MC CALLISTER (fatalistically 
Walter Pidgeon lic? 

She looks at him sadly and they dance 
silently for a while. 

MC CALLBTER: Gee, Sally, I never danced 
with anyone like this before. I mean, 
Mom and I used to dosido together 
sometimes, but. —— 

HUTTON: You're doing just fine, Bob. 
MECALLISTER (looking at her intently) 
You know what I wish, Sally? 1 wish this 
mess was over апд... well, us two... 
І mean, you and me , ., I mean, what 
I'm trying to say 8...1 mean, certain 
things have to be said and I'd like to say 
what I have to say, because 
HUTTON: Bob, believe me. 1 know what 
you're uying to say. And there's nobody 
I want more to say what he to say 
than I want you to say what you have to 
say. 

MC CALLISTER: I'm glad. because, Sally. 
what I'm trying to say is 

SALLY: Don't say it. 

She breaks into the poignant strains of 
“Give Me Your Khaki Heart.” The en- 
live Canteen joins in as the lights ate 
lowered. PAN то couples swaying, danc- 
ing, singing and blinking away tears, 
overcome by the meaningful words. cur 
то the bandstand. The song ends and 
the lights go up. клу kyser and his band 
break into the stirring patriotic. song 
“We'll Knock the Axis Right on Their 
Backses.” AS GINNY SIMMS, HARRY BABBITT 
and mH KABUBBLE sing out the rousing 
lyrics, all the Servicemen in the Canteen 
fall into line, each man with a git on 


Sally, would 


his out 


rm. Rhythmically, they marc 
the back door onto Cahuenga Boulevard. 
сит то the long line of guys and gals 
swinging onto Sunset Boulevard and 
heading for Union Station. We see 
WAYNE and MILLER, CLARK and RAYE, 
Then we stoP and HOLD ON MC CALLISTE 
and ишттох, gazing tenderly at cach 
other as they march. Suddenly, we hear a 
horn honking. 

сит TO CLosE-UP of a civilian (EDDIE 
BRACKEN) im a car. He is honking his 
horn and waving. 
BRACKEN (calling): Sally! I'm over here! 

CUT BACK TO HUTTON. She spies BRACI 


Golly, it's Freddie. 1 fe 
te tonight. 

CUT TO CLOSE-UP of м 
is visibly shaken. 
MC CALLISTER; Sa 
thaw? 
murron (breaking away from him): Bob, 
I must straighten something out, but VIL 
ight back, ТИ meet you at the station, 

TER; But, Sally 
t talk now, I proi 
--. Trust me. 


got 


ALLISTER. He 


Who is 


lly, what dat 


HUTTON (rushing off, stops and 1001 
back): Bob, remember what you 
trying to say to me before? 

MC CALLISTEK: I remember. 
HUTTON: Well, what you were trying to 
say to me, I've been trying to say 

(She runs over to the car and jumps in) 
ме CALLISTER (calling): Sally. what were 
you trying to say to me? 

vrrow (calling back): It goes without 
saying. (The car zooms off) 

CUT TO CLOSE-UP of MCCALLISTER. He 
waves once, sadly, then, straightening his 
shoulders, he continues marching . . . 
the only Serviceman on Sunset Boule- 
vard without a gal. 

CUT TO Union Station. A train is wait- 
ing to pull out. All around, we can sce 
Servicemen saying goodbye io civilians. 
We COME UP ON MC CALLISTER, CLARK, 
WAYNE, MILLER and RAY! 
wccanusreR. (looking off into the dis 
tance): She's not coming. 

Rave: Stop worrying, ya big lug. She'll be 
here. 

CUT TO BRACKEN and MUTTON pushing 
BRACKEN's car 10 a gas station. On the 
pump we sce a sign, SORRY, NO GAS TODAY. 
"EM FLYING! 


CUT sack TO Union Station. 
MC CALLISTER: 1 tell you, she's not com- 
ing. 

RAYE: Listen to me, soldier. That lousy 
four F means nothing to hev. 


мє casisrer (bitterly): Nothing. hah! 
сит TO HUTTON running down Sunset 

Boulevard, alone, trying to hitch a ride. 
сот pack To Union Station. 

MC CALLISTER: She doesn't w: 

me anymore. 

RAYE: Doesn't want to sec you 

(She punches him affectionately on the 


to sce 


“Just swim out and symbolically offer yourself to Looa-Looa, the 
ancient Polynesian sea god. Otherwise, we'll get crummy surf.” 


163 


PLAYBOY 


164 


shoulder) You big palooka! Don't you 
know the gal loves you? 

cur TO HUTION fighting through the 
crowds outside Union Station. 

CUT BACK To the station. 

TRAIN: All aboard! 

The men pick up their duffel bags. 
CLARK hisses RAYE and WAYNE hisses MIL- 
Ler. The GIs hop onto the rear platform 
of the Irain. MCCALISTER continues to 
look off into the distance, in vain, for 
ниттох. As the train begins to pull out, 
RAYE and MILLER run for it. 

WAYNE (lo MILLER): So long, gal I'll 
send you a V-mail letter. 

MILLER (through tears); Texas, when you 
get over there, give "ет... heck! 
RAVE (running and calling after CLARK): 
Don't forget to writel 

CLARK: I won't. 

rave (dabbing her суе): And, Brook- 
lyn, will you give those tyrants a message 
from all of us on the home front? 

CLARK: I sure will, Irene. What is it? 
rave (choked up with patriotic fervor): 
Tell all those Japs that . . . that we 
Yanks are no saps 

CLARK gives her a thumbs-up sign. 

CUT TO CLOSE-UP of MC CALLISTER, He 
lakes one final look, sighs, then vanishes 
inside the train, followed by the others. 
PULL BACK то (Ле station. LONG SHOT of 
train disappearing. 

cur BACK то the girls. Suddenly, we see 
HUTTON running up to them breathlessly. 
HUTTON (gasping): Oh, golly, 1 got here 
as fast as I could. . . | The саг... gasp 
... broke down . . . рири... Oh, 
don't tell me І missed him? . . . Gee, 
now he'll never know how much I... 


how much L... (She breaks down in sobs) 
RAYE: I'm sure he knows, kiddo. 
MILLER (consoling her); Don't be so hard 
on yourself, honey. 
HUTTON (looking up through glassy eyes): 
Kids, I've got to do something lor Bob 
... for all the Bobs and all the Brook! 
and all the Texases. Will you help 
ave: We're doing all we can. WI 
сап we do? 
HUTTON: Let's go over to the Red Cross 
right now and give blood again. 
RAYE: But we just gave this morning. 
HUTTON: We won't tell, 

PULL BACK. HIGH OVERHEAD SHOT of the 
three girls walking through the station. 

QUICK cur TO ѕтоск slots of bombs 
falling, shells bursting, ships firing. 

сит TO CLARK on the deck of a de- 
stroyer in the Pacific, firing away al Jap- 
anese planes. 

cur то а beach at Okinawa. We see 
WAYNE charging a Japanese position, 
pulling grenade pins with his teeth. 

cur то a command-post bunker in 
France. The commanding officer (VAN 
nerus) is standing at a blackboard, eras- 
ing names. 
шеплм: O'Hara . . ca 
Greenstein . . glioli . . . the cream 
of my company .. . gone, all gone! 

Suddenly, MC CALLISTER comes stagger- 
ing into the bunker. His combat clothes 
are torn, his face grimy with battlefield. 
mud. 
мє CALLISTER (saluting weakly): Sir, Pri- 


= Wiznowski 


vate. Kinkaid reporting and requesting 
pennission to go on patrol. 
HEFLIN: Patrol? Are you insane, man? 


“I bet old lady Wardell was really something 
in her younger days." 


You just came off patrol. You've becn on 
sixteen patrols in the past two days... . 
(Looking at him carefully) 1 could be 
mistaken, soldier, but I get the feeling 
you don't care if you come out of this 
War alive or not. (Tenderly) Is some- 
thing bothering you, son? Care to talk 
bout it? (MC CALLISIER shakes his head 
dumbh) Trouble at home? (Again, he 
shakes his head) A girl? (мс CALLISTER 
stiffens, then shakes his head once more) 
MG CALLISTER (almost by rote): Sir, Pri- 
vate Kinkaid requesting permission to go 
on patrol. 

HEFLIN (sighing): Very well, soldier. 

MC CALLISIER salutes fecbly and slag- 
gers out. HEFLIN flops down wearily at 
his desk 
HEFLIN: Who am I, God or somebody? 
Sending those green kids out into thar 
. . . that hell! (He pours himself four 
fingers of bourbon, swallows it, then 
slumps forward, burying his head in his 
hands) 

cur ro an American patrol running 
across a field. Shells are bursting all 
around. A soldier throws up his hands 
and falls to the ground. сут To cLoseur 
of the soldier. It is Nc CALLISTER. 

DISSOLVE TO MCGALLISTER'S face. His 
eyes ате wide open and he is looking 
up blankly. PULL BACK and we see that 
he is lying on а cot in a hospital tent 
Two doctors (и. з. warner and LEWIS 


STONE) are standing over him. 

WARNER: Strangest case Гуе ever seen 
Mild concussion, But all medical evi 
dence indicates he should have re- 
covered. 

STONE: And yet he just lies there day and 
night, responding to nothing. 

waren: I seem to get the leeling that he 


doesn't want to get better . . 
know he's not gold-bricking. 
stone (looking upward, meaningfully): 
I guess it’s out of our hands now. (They 
walk out of the tent) 

CUT то CLOSE-UP of MC CALLISTER'S fac 
He is still staring at the ceiling blankly, 
his eyes unblinking. Ii is deathly silent in 
the hospital tent. We но for a moment. 
Suddenly, we hear a soft, sweet, feminine 
voice singing (he poignant lyrics of 

Me Your Khaki Heart” м 
TERS eyes waver а bit; then they 

emotion begins to creep back 
across his face. With a faltering voice, he 
joins in the chorus, Then he suddenly 
turns his head. 

GUT To the entrance of the tent. Stand- 
ing there is малтох, mmaculalely at- 
tired in a Special Services uniform. 

CUT BACK тө MC CALLISTER. He sits ир 
in his cot. HUTTON comes runnin, 
They embrace on the cot (ow 
ers, with their fe 
floor). 

MC CALLISTER: Oh, Sally, Sally, Sally, is it 
really you? 

Bob, I wanted so much to see 
to explain what happened in 

But I thought it 


and yet, 1 


“Give 


10 him. 
the cou- 
firmly touching the 


Hollywood. never 


would happen. And then Sam Goldwyn 
who heard me singing to you at tlic 
Canteen, gave me а screen test and Al 
Jolson saw the test and he happened to 
have this opening in his U.S.O. troupe 
and he asked mc to j him and our 
fist stop just happened to be here in 
France and Т happened to have this 
headache and E happened to stop off here 
at this hospital to get an aspirin and 1 
happened to come into your tent by 
mistake and—— 

MG CALLISTER (putting his finger оп her 
lips): no explanations. You're 
here, I that counts. (He hisses 
her and then he gets up, goes behind a 
screen and emerges fully dressed) 
numos: Bob, where are you going? 

ME CALLISTER: Thanks to you, Sally. I'm 
fully recovered, And now I've got to 
rejoin my company. From here, my outfit 
pushes out for Baste And from 
there, we go to Remagen. And then on 
to Berlin. So I guess it’s goodbye again 
uvrrox: Wait a minute. Did you say 
Bastogne, Remagen and Berlin? 

мє CALLISTER: T hat's right, 

HUTTON: Why, darling. what a fantastic 
coincidence, That's exactly where our 
U.S.0. troupe is headed. 

You mean .. > 

ng. well be in this thing 


MC CALLISTER: 
HUTTON: D: 
together. True, you'll be fighting and PH 
be singing. But we won't be that far 


MC CALLISTER. (vith great emotion): Sal- 
lv. 1 consider myself the luckiest Yank 
alive (He pulls away from her) But 
now. it’s timc to go. The job is not 
finished yet. 

CUT 10 мє CALLISTER and HUTTON, both 
in uniform, marchü 
а large field. The 
perim posed o 
plants. We se 
guns, shells. 
VOICEOVER (WESTBROOK VAN  VOORIIS): 
No. Bob and Sally, the job is not 
finished yer. There are still planes and 
ships to build and more guns and more 
shells, 

The stirring strains of “We'll Knock 
the Axis Right on Their Backsey" begin 
10 build slowly in the background. Link 
ing arms with HUTTON and sic смак 
now are CLARK and RAYE 
uniform). CUT 10 stock stots of men 
marching into induction centers 
voice-over: From the factories, from the 
hills. from the teeming slums, from the 
farms across the breadbasker of a great 
nation. they come to feed the fires of 
victory 

cur 


garm in атт across 
wo are suddenly su 
suors of 


ег STOCK war 


workers turning out ships. 


(in a Wave's 


pacs то [he feld. Linking arms 
with the foursome now are WAYNE and 
ALLER (in a murse's uniform). 
builds in intensity. We keep pulling 
back and we sce our six friends linked 


arm т arm with BETTE DAVIS, JAMES CAG- 


The sonz 


NEV, TA nav wonTM, ALESIS мити, all 
the stars and all the bands from the 
Canteen; also IDA LUPINO, DENNIS MORGAN 
and just about everyone else under con- 
tract to Warner Bros. As we keep PULL 
ING FARTHER BACK, we see one long, 
almost unending line of people march- 
ing arm in arm. As the song gels louder, 
we se falling in behind our cast soldiers. 
sailors and Marines—not only from this 
nation but from France, Brilain, Russia 
Canada and ather Allied countries. The 
song continues 10 crescendo. 
voice-over (shouting above the music) 
While the price of freedom is high, it is 
a price we are all willing to pay. Are you 
listening, Меха, Hirohito and Tojo? 
And. as for that man with the funny 
mustache, here's a message shouted loud 
and clear by the entire fee world: WE 
WILL NEVER HEIL A HEEL! 

cer 1o а gigantic mass of planes flying 
overhead in V formation. 
guns roaring, Then cur 
SHOIS Of FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT 
CHUKCIILL, CHARLES pr 
STALIN апа CHIANG. KALSHEK, 


ICK SHOTS of 


TO huge STOCK 
WINSTON 
joscen 


GAULLE, 


CUY то ими OVERHEAD SHOT, looking 
down at the hundreds ol marching people 
as the music gets still louder. Suddenly 
all bring their hands up in a salute. 
voice-over: Bye-bye! BUY BONDS! 

stow FADE fo blac 


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PLAYBOY 


166 


| i Vial 


“But I don't think the Harrisons have a sauna bath." 


LEVIATHAN! continued jrom page 122 


minutes off. That took co ble re- 
search, Svetz. The treasury raised our 
budget for this year, so that we could get 
that whale," 

Svetz nodded. 

“Just be sure you've got a whale be- 
fore you call for the big extension cage." 

Now, 1200 ycars carlier, Svetz followed 
an underwater source of nervous im- 
pulse. The signal was intensely powerfu 
It could not be anything smaller than an 
adult bull sperm whale. 

A shadow formed i 
right. Sve watched it 


air to 
e shape: a 


the 


great gray-blue sphere floating beside 
him. Around the rim of the door were 
antigravity beamers and heavy-duty stun 
guns. The opposite side of the sphere 


wasn't there; it simply faded away, 
To Svetz, that was the most frighten- 


ing thing about any time machine: the 
vay it seemed to turn а corner that 
wasn't there. 

Svetz was almost over the signal. Now 


he used the remote controls to swing the 
vity beamers around and down 


switched them on and dials surged 
Leviathan was heavy. More massive 
Sverz had expected. He upped the 


ough the 


Where the surface of the water bulged 
upward under the attack of the 


місу beams, a shadow formed. Levi 
than rising. . . . 

Was there something wrong with the 
shape? 


Then a trembling spherical bubble of 
vering, from the ocean, and 


Partly within it. He was too big to fit, 
though he should not have bee 

He was four times as massive 
sperm whale should have been and 
dozen times as long. He looked nothi 
like the crystal Steuben sculpture. Levi 
than a kind of serpent, armored 
| red-bronze scales as big as а vi 
king's shield, th teeth like ivory 
spears. His triangular jaws gaped wide. 
As he floated toward Svetz, һе writhed, 
secking with his bulging yellow eyes for 
whatever strange enemy had subjected 
him to this indignity. 

Sveiz was paralyzed with fear 
then nor later 
doubt that what he saw was the Bi 
Leviathan. This had to be the largest 
beast that had ever roamed the sca: a 
beast large enough and fierce enough to 
be mous with anything big and 
destructive. Yet—if the crystal sculpture 
was anything like representational, this 
was not a sperm whale at all. 

In he was far too big for the 
extension cage. 

Indecision stayed his hand—and then 


wa 


decision. 


non 


Sveu. stopped thinking entirely, as the 


great slitted irises found him. 
The beast was float past him. 
Around its waist was a sphere of weigl 


less water that shrank steadily as gobbets 
dripped away and rained back to the se 
The beast’s nostrils flared—it was ob- 
viously an air breather, though not a 
cetace: 

It stretched, reaching for Svetz with 
ing jaws. 
Teeth like scores of elephants tusks 


ga 


all in a row. Polished and ncedlesharp. 
Svetz saw them close about him from 
above and below, while he sat frozen in 
fea 

At the last moment, he shut his eyes 
tight. 

When death did not come, Svetz 
opened his eyes. 

The jaws had not entirely closed on 


He heard them 
ntly against—against the in- 
surface of the extension саре 
existence Svetz had forgotten 


mchait 


grindi 
visible 
whose 
entirely. 

Svetz resumed breathing. He would 
return home with an empty extension 
cage, to face the wrath of Ka Chen—a 
fare better than death. He moved his 


ms from. 


fingers to cut the antigravity be 
эре. 


the big extension 

Metal whined ast metal. 
whiffed hot oil, while red lights blinked 
on all over his lunch-tray control board. 
He hastily turned the beams оп 

The red lights blinked out, one by 
reluctant oi 

"Through the transparent shell, Svetz 
could hear the grinding of teeth. Levia- 
than was trying to chew his way into 
the extension cage 

His released weight had nearly torn 
the cage loose from the rest of the time 
nc, Svetz would have been strand- 
ed in the past, 100 miles out to sea, in 
a broken extension cage that probably 
wouldu't float, with an angry sca mon- 
ster waiting to snap him up. No, he 
couldn't turn off the anti-gravity beamers. 

But the beamers were on the big e 
tension cage, and he couldn't hold it 
more (һап about 15 minutes longer. 
When the big cage was gone, wi 
would prevent Leviathan from pullin 
him to his doom? 

"TII stun him off, id Svetz. 

There was darkred palate above him 
and red gums and forking tongue be- 
neath, and the long curved fangs 
around. But berween the two row 
teeth, Sver could see the big extension 
cage and the battery of stunners around 
the door, By eye, he rotated the stu 
ners until they pointed straight. toward 
Leviathan. 

"E must be out of my m 
Svetz and he spun the stunn 
from him. He couldn't fire them at Levi: 
than without hitting himself. 


And Leviathan wouldn't let go. 

Trapped. 

No, he thought with a burst of relief. 
He could escape with his lile. The go- 
home lever would send his small exten- 
ion cage out from between the jaws of 
Leviathan, back o the time stream, 
back to the institute. His mission had. 
failed, but that was hardly his fault. 
Why had Ra Chen been unable to un- 
cover mention of a sea serpent bigger 


said Svetz. Апа he 
gohome lever. But he 


reached for th 
stayed his hand. 
E can't just tell him so,” 


he said. 


Ra Chen terrified him. 

The grinding of teeth came through 
the extension cage. 

“Hate to just quit. 
I'll try something, . . .” 

He could sec the antigravity beamers 
by looking between the teeth. He could 
feel their influence, so nearly were they 
focused on the extension cage itself. If 
he focused them just on himself. . . . 

He felt the change: he felt both strong 
and lightheaded, like a drun ballet 
master, And if he now narrowed the 
focus... . 

The monsters teeth seemed to grind 


id Svetz. “Think 


harder. Svetz looked between them, as 
best he could. 

Leviathan was no longer floating. He 
was h aight down from the ex- 


tension cage, hanging by his teeth. The 


cage. 

The monster was us distress. 
Naturally. A water beast, he was support- 
ng his own mass for the first time in his 
fe. And by his teeth! His yellow eyes 
rolled frantically. His tail twitched 
lightly at the very tip. And still he 
clung. 

“Tet po," « 
monster." 

The monsters teeth slid, screeching, 
down the transparent surface, and he 
fell. 

Svetz cut the anti-gravity a fraction of 
a second late. He smelled burnt oil and 
there were tiny red lights blinking off 
one by one on his lunch-tray control 
board. 

Leviathan hit the water with a sound 
of thunder. His long, sinuous body 
rolled over and floated to the surface 
nd lay as if dead, But his tail flicked 
once and Svetz knew that he was alive. 

“I could kill you," said Svetz. "Hold 
the stunners on you until you're dead. 
‘There's time. 

But he had ten n 
for a sperm wh Tt wasn't time 
enough. It didn't begin to be time 
nough, but if he used it ай... . 

The sca serpent flicked its tail and 
began to swim away. Once, he rolled to 
look at Svetz and his jaws opened wide 


in obvi 


said Svetz. "Let go, уоп... 


utes to search. 


167 


PLAYBOY 


168 


in fury. He finished his roll and was 
fleeing again. 

‘Just a minute,” $уе said thickly. 
“Just a science-perverting minute, there. 
And he swung the stunners to focus. 


Gravity behaved suangely inside a 
extension cage. While the cage was mov- 
ing forward in time, down was all direc- 
tions outward from the center of the 
ge. Svetz was plastered against the 
anved wall. He waited for the trip to 
end. 

Seasickness was nothing compared 
with the motion sickness of time travel. 

Free fall, then normal gravity. Svetz 
moved unsteadily to the door. 

Ra Chen was waiting to help him out. 
id you get it? 
Leviathan? No, Sveiz looked 
t lis boss. "Where's the big extension 


it back slowly, to 
ional side effects. 


minimize the gravi 
But if you don't have the wha 
I said I don't have Leviath 
Well, just what do you have?" Ra 
Chen demanded. 

Somewhat later, he said, "It wasn't?” 

Later yet, he said. "You killed him: 
Why, Sve? Pure spite? 
No, sir. It was the most intelligent 
thing I did during the entire nip." 

“But why? Never mind. Svetz. here's 
the big extension cage" A gray-blue 
shadow congealed in the hollow cradle 
of the time machine. "And there does 
seem to be something in it. Hi, you 
idiots, throw an antigravity beam inside 


ل 


the cage! Do you want the beast 
crushed 
The cage had arrived. Ra Chen waved 


n arm in signal. The door opened. 
Something tremendous hovered within 
the big extension cage. It looked like a 
malevolent wh в there, 
peering h th a single 

пу. angry eye. It was trying to get at 
Ra Chen, bur it couldn't swim in а 


Its other eye was only a torn socket. 
One of its flippers was ripped along the 
trailing edge. Rips and ridges and puck- 
ers of scar tissue, forest of broken 
wood and broken steel, marked its tre- 
mendous expanse of albino skin. Lines 
trailed from many of the broken har. 
poons. High up on one flank, bound to 
the beast by broken and tangled lines, 
was the corpse of a bearded man with 
one leg. 

“Hardly in mint condition, is he?" Ra 
Chen observed. 

“Be careful, 


He's a 


sir. ler. I saw 


him ram a sailing ship and sink it clean 
before I could focus the stunners on 
him. 


“What amazes me is that you found 
him at all in the time you had left. Svetz, 
I do not understand your luck. Or am I 

sing something?” 

"Pt wasn't luck, sir. Te was the most 
ent thing I did the entire trip.” 
id that before. About killing 


Sve hurried to explain, "The sea 
serpent was just leaving the vicinity. I 
wanted to kill him, but I knew I didn't 
have the time. 1 was about to leave 
myself, when he turned back and bared 
his teeth. 

“He was an obvious carnivore. Those 
teeth were built strictly for killing, sir. I 
should have noticed earlier, And T could 
think of only one animal big cnough to 
feed a carnivore that size.’ 
int, Svet 

“There was corroborative evidence. 
Our research never found any mention of 

serpents. The great geological 
surveys of the First Century Post-Atomic 
should have turned up something, Why 
didn't they?” 

"Because the sea serpent quietly 
out two centuries earlier, after wl 
killed off his food supply. 

Svetz colored. “Exactly. So I turned 
the stunners on Leviathan before he 
could swim away and I kept the stunners 


died 
ders 


“One of you was great, two were soso and one was lousy.” 


on him until the NAI said he was dead. 
I reasoned that if Leviathan was there, 
there must be whales in the vicinity. 
"And Leviathan’s nervous output was 
masking the signal." 
“Sure enough, it was. The moment he 
was dead, the NAI registered another 


si . T followed it to"—Svetz jerked his 
head. They were floating the whale out 
of the extension cage—‘to him." 


Days later, two men stood on one side 
of a thick glass wall. 
"We took some clones from him, then 


passed him on to the secretary-general's 
vivarium,” said Ra Chen. “Pity you had 
to settle for an albino." He waved aside 


Sveu's protest: “I know, 1 know, 
were pressed for time. 

Beyond the glass, the one-eyed whale 
glared at Sveiz through murky sea water. 
Surgeons had removed most of the har- 
poons, but scars remained along 1 
flanks; and Svetz, awed, wondered how 
Jong the beast had been at 
man. Centuries? How long did sperm 
whales live? 

Ra Chen lowered his voice. “We'd all 
be in trouble if the secretary-general 
found out that there was once a bigger 

imal than this. You understand that, 


you 


war with 


Good.” 
another 
Gila 


Ra Chen's gaze swept across 


is wall and а füre-breadl 
ther down, a 
looked back at him along the 
spiral horn in its forehead. 

“Always we find the unexpected," said 
Ra Chen. "Sometimes I wonder. . . . 

If you'd do your research better, Svetz 
thought. . . . 

Did you know that time travel wasn't 
even a concept until the. First Century 
Ante-Atomic? A writer invented it. From 
then ший the Fourth Century Post 
Atomic, time travel was pure fantasy. It 
violates everything the scientists thought 
were natural laws, Logi servation 
of matter and energy. Momentum, reac- 
tion, any law of motion that makes time 
a part of the statement. Rel 

“It suikes m 
y time we push 


B 
horse 
ngerous 


monster. Fi 


we shove world t 
natural. That's why you keep finding 
giant sea serpents and fire-breathing” 

"That's nonsense," said Svetz. He was 
afraid of his boss, yes; but there were 
limi: 

“You're right,” Ra Chen said instantly. 
Almost with relief. “Take a month's va- 
cation, Svetz, then back to work. The 
secretary-general м: 

“A bird?” Svetz smiled. A bird sound- 
ed harmless enough. "I suppose he found 
itin 
‘That's right. Ever hea 


nis a bird.” 


of a roc?” 


LAST MAGIGIAM со page 138) 


fold. and one shepherd. . 
hear my voice . . . and they follow m 
These words, spoken by the carpenter 


.. My sheep 


from Nazareth, are those of a world 


changer. They passed boundaries, wl 
pered in the ears of galley slaves: "One 
fold, one shepherd. Follow me.” ‘These 
are no longer the wrathful words of a 
jealous city ravager, a local potentate 
god. They mark, instead, a rejection of 
purely material goals, a turning, toward 
some hi. As these ideas diffused. 
they were, of course, subject to the wear 
of time and superstition; but the human 
ethic of the individual prophets and 
thinkers has outlasted empires, These 
п speak to us across the ages. In their 
ious approaches to lile, they encour- 
ed the common man toward d 

and humility. They did not com 
weapons: instead, they bespoke man's 
his animal nature 


т! 


purpose to subdu 


and. in so doing, to create а radiantly 
new and noble being. These were the 
dreams of the first millennium and 


nented man still pursues these dreams 


ier, I mentioned Plato's path into 
the light that blinds the man who has 
lived in darkness. Out of just such dark- 
ness arose the first humanizing influence. 
It was genuinely the time of the good 
shepherds. No one can say why these 
different prophets had such profound 
effects within the time at their disposal. 
Nor can we solve the mystery of how 
they came into existence across the 
Euro-Asiatic land mass in diverse cul- 
tures at roughly the same time. As Jas 
pars observes, he who can solve this 
mystery will know something common to 
all mankind, 

In this difficult era, we are still living 
in the inspirational light of a tremen- 
dous historical event, one that opened 
up the human soul. But if the neophytes 
were blinded by the light, so, perhaps, 
the prophets were in turn confused by 
the human darkness they encountered. 
The scientific age replaced them. The 
common man, after brief days of enlight- 
enment, turned once again to escape, 
propelled outward first by the world voy- 
agers and then by the atom breakers. We 
have called up vast powers that loom 
ly over us and we turn to outer 
space as though the sole answer to the 
unspoken query must be flight, such 
flight as ancient man engaged in across 
ice ages and vanished game trails—the 
flight from nowhere, The good shep- 
herds, meantime, have all faded into the 
darkness of history. One of them, Jesus, 
left а ayptic message: “My doct 
not minc but His that sent me.” Even in 
a time of unbelieving, 
warning For the sender m 


couched in the body of man, awaiting 
the end of the story. 

When I was a small boy, I once lived 
near a brackish stream that wandered 
over the interminable salt flats south of 
our town. Between occasional floods, the 
arca became a giant sunflower forest 
er than the head of a man. С 
roved this wilderness, and guerri! 
bats with sunflower spears sometimes 
took place when boys from the other side 
of the marsh ambushed the hidden trails. 
Now and then, when a raiding party 
sought a new path, one could see from 
high ground the sunflower heads shaking 
and closing over the passage of the lile 
below. In some such manner, nature's 
green barriers must have trembled and 
subsided in silence behind the foot 
steps of the first man apes who stum- 
bled out of the vinestrewn 
centuries into the full sunlight of h 


morass of 


man 
consciousness. 

The sunflower forest of personal and 
racial childhood is relived in every hu- 
man generation. One reaches the high 
ground and all is quiet in the sh 
reeds, The nodding golden flowers sp 
up indifferently behind us and the way 
backward is lost when finally we turn to 
look. There is something unutterably 
secretive involved in man's intrusion 
into his second world, into the mutable 


domain of thought. Perhaps he questions 
sull his right to be there. Some act 
unknown, some propitiation of unseen 
forces is demanded of him. For this pu 


but all in vain. A greater 
demanded, the act of a wuly great magi 
cian, the man capable of t 
himself. For what increasi is re. 
quired of man is that he pursue the 
paradox of return. So desperate has bee! 
the human emergence from fen and 
thicket, so great has seemed the virtue ol 
а single magical act carried beyond n 
ture that man hesitates, as long ago I 
shuddered to confront a phantom on a 
st 


Wi 
scious is a simple terror of what has 
come with us from the forest and that 
sometimes haunts our dreams. Man does 
not wish to retrace his steps down to the 
margin of the reeds and peer within, lest 
by some magic he be permanently recap- 
tured, Instead, men prefer to hide in 
cities of their own devising. 1 know а 
New Yorker who, when she visits the 
country, complains that the crickets keep 
her awake, I knew another who had to 
wakened screaming from а nigh 
mare of whose nature he would never 
As for me, a longtime student of 
the past, I, too, have my visitants. 

The dreams are true. By mo slight 
effort have we made our way through 
the marshes. Something unseen has come 


tten deep in the human subcon- 


“You should have heard him before he took 
the speed-reading course." 


169 


PLAYBOY 


170 system. We have bei 


along with each of us. The reeds sway 
shut, but not as definitively as we would 
wish. It is the price one pays for bring- 
ing almost the same body through two 
worlds. The animal's needs are very old; 
it must sometimes be coaxed into staying 
in its new discordant rcalm. Аз a conse- 
quence, all advanced religions have re- 
alized that the soul must not be allowed 
to linger, yearning, at the edge of the 
sunflower forest. 

The curious sorcery of sou 
and written hieroglyphs in man's new 
br have lured him farther and farther 
from the swaying reeds. Temples would 
bet contain his thought and fix hi. 
dreams upon the stars in the night sky. 
A qeature who has once passed from 
visible nature into the ghostly insubstan- 
tial world evolved and projected. from 
his own mind will never cease to pursue 
thereafter the worlds beyond this world. 
Nevertheless, the paradox remains; Man's 
crossing into the realm of space has forced 
him to turn and contemplate with re- 
newed intensity the world of the sun- 
flower forest—the ancient world of the 
body that he is doomed to inhabit, the 
body that completes his cosmic prison. 
Jot long apo. I chanced to Ну over a 
forested section of country that. in my 
youth, was still an unfrequented wilder- 
ness. Across it now, suburbia was spread- 
ing. Below, like the fungus upon a fruit, 
I could see the radiating lines of trans- 
port gouged through the naked caril 
From far up in the wandering ай, one 
could the lines stretching over the 
horizon. They led to cities clothed in a 
blue, unmoving haze of smog. From my 
remote position in the clouds, I could 
gaze upon all below and watch the illness 
as it spread its slimy tendrils through the 
watershed. 
ther out, I knew, on the astronauts’ 
the earth would hang in silver 
light and the seas hold their ancient 
bluc. п would be im le, the creep- 
ing white rootlets of his urban growth 

ly unseen. The cloud-covered p 
et would appear the same as when the 
first men stole warily along a wail in the 
forest. Of one thing, however, the scien- 
tists of the space age have informed us: 
an inexpressibly unique posses- 
n. In the entire solar system, it alone 
sses nd oxygen sulficient to 
nourish higher life. It alone contains the 
seeds of mind. Mercury bakes in an 
inferno of heat beside the sun 
thing strange has twisted the des 
Venus: Mars is а chill desert: Pluto is a 
cold wisp of reflected light over three 
on the edge of the 
k void. Only on earth does life's 
en engine fuel the oxygen-devouring 


some 


ny of 


For centuries, we have dreamed of 
intelligent. beings throughout. this solar 
n wrong; the earth 


we have taken for granted and treated so 
ily—the sunflower-shaded forest of 
man's infancy—is an incredibly precious 
planetary jewel. We are, all of us—man, 
beast and growing plant—aboard а 
spaceship of limited dimensions whos 
journey began so long ago tha 
abandoned one set of gods 
the process of substituting another in the 
shape of science. The axial religions had. 
sought to persuade man to transcend hi 
own nature; they had pictured to him 
stery. But 
science in our time has opened 10 m 
the prospect of limitless power over ex 
е. Its technicians someu 
seem, t, to have proffered us the 
power of the void as though flight were 
the most important value on earth, 
We've got to spend everything we 
have, if necessary, to get off this planet,” 
one representative of the aerospace in- 
dustry remarked to me recently. 

"Why?" E asked, not averse to flight 
but a little bewildered by his seeming 
desperation. 

“Because,” he insisted, his face turning 
red, as though from some deep inner 
struggle, “because,” then he flung at me 
what I suspect he thought my kind of 
nce would take seriously, “because of 
c—the ice is coming back, that's 


terior 


ally, as though to make everyth 
‚ one of the space-agency admini 

vas quoted in Newsweek shortly 
after the astronauts had returned from 
the moon: "Should man," this official 
said, “fall back from his destiny . . . the 
confines of this planet will destroy him." 

lt was a strange way to consider our 
planet, I thought, closing the magazine 
and brooding over this sudden distaste 
lor life at home, Why was there this 
hidden anger, this longing for flight, 
these threats for those who remained on 
h? Some powerful and not entirely 
scientific impulse seemed to be tugging 
atthe heart of man. Was it fear of his 
own mounting numbers, the creeping of 
the fungus threads? But where, tl 
these men intend to flee? The 

stem stretched bleak and cold 
erstrewn before my 


mei 


and 
ind. The near- 
as four light-years and many 


Ё 
est star w 
human generations away. I held up the 
magazine once more. Here and here 
alone, photographed so beautifully from 
outer space, was that blue jewel—com 
pounded of water and of I 
that gave us birth. Yet, upon the page, 
the words repeated themselves: “This 
planet will destroy him. 

No, I thought, this planet nourished 
man. It took 4,000,000 years to find our 
way ürough the sunllower forest and, 
after that, but a few millenniums to 
reach the moon. It is not 
planet will destroy us. Sj 
brave but upon the 
rockets are projected all the fears and 


hg green— 


venture, 


evasions of man. He has fled across two 
worlds, from the windy corridors of wild 
savannas to the sunlit world of the mind, 
and still he flees. Earth will not destroy 
. It is he who threatens to destroy 
carth, In sober terms, we are forced 
to reflect that by enormous expenditure 
and effort, we have ventured a small 
out into the solar system, but we have 
scarcely begun to penetrate the distances, 
no less real, that separate man from man. 
Creatures who evolve as man has done 


bear the scar tissue of their evolutionary 


travels in their bodies. The human cor- 
tex, the center of high thought, has come 
to dominate, but not completely to sup 
press, the more ancient portions of the 
animal brain. Perhaps it was from this 
last wound that my engineer friend was 
unconsciously fleeing. We know th 
within our heads there still exists an 
irrational, restive ghost Ш 
disastrous mi into the car of r 

Today, m: ig numbe 
his technological power to pollure his 
environment reveal а single demanding 
necessity: the necessity for him conscious. 
ly to re-enter and. preserve, for his own 
fety, the old first world [rom which he 
originally emerged. His second world, 
drawn from his own brain, has brought 
him far, but it cannot take him out of 
ure, nor can he live by escap 
his second. world alone. He must now 
incorporate from the wisdom of the axial 
thinkers an ethic directed not alone to- 
ward his fellows but extended to the 
living world around him. By way of his 
cultural world, he must re-enter the 
sunflower forest he had thought merely 
to exploit or abandon. He must do this 
in order to survive. If he succeeds, he 
will, perhaps, have created a third world 
that combines elements of the origin 
two and that should bring closer the 
responsibilities and nobility of character 
envisioned by those thinkers who 1 
acclaimed as the creator ў 
then of his soul. They expressed, in а pre- 
scientific era, man's hunger to transcend 
his own image, a hunger not entirely 
submerged even beneath the formidable 
weaponry and technology of the present, 

"The story of the great saviors, whether 
s ek or Juda 
story of man in the process of enli 
ing himself, not simply by tools but 
through the slow inward growth of the 
mind that made them and may yet mas 
ter them through knowledge of itself, 
“The poet, like the lightning rod," 
Emerson once stated, "must reach from 
point nearer the sky than all surround- 
ing objects down to the earth, and into 
the dark wet soil, or neither is of use.” 
Today, that effort is demanded not only 
of the poet. In the age of space, it is 
demanded of all of us. Without it, there 
be no survival of mankind, for man 
himself must be his last magician. He 
must find his own way home. 


g into 


777 


“Oh, stop bitching about it, will you? It's all 
been over and done with for years!” 


171 


PLAYBOY 


172 


ШИШЕ АД 


(continued from page 125) 


the Year—Baltimore'slovely Gina By 
The difficulty of selecting one reign 
beauty out of 800 boggles the m 
but Playboy, ever game, is preparing for 
another go-round. The finals for the next 
Bunny Beauty Contes are planned for 
November at the Playboy Club-Hotel at 
Lake Geneva, Wisconsin. Herewith, 
therefore, we present a readers and key- 
holders’ guide to Playboys finest—a 
sclective sampling of the 800 girls from 
whose ranks the next Bunny of the Year 
will be chosen. Balloting in individual 
Clubs began July first and will continue 
through Labor Day, with top vote getters 
in each Club being judged by local panels 
of experts. The 19 winners of these semi- 
final contests will appear in the Novem- 
ber pageant at Lake Geneva. 

You may have read statistics on the 
typical Playboy Bunny. She's five feet, 
five inches tall, weighs 116 pounds, meas- 
ures 34-24-34 and is just over 20 years 
old, Like all generalizations, that one's 
misleading. There is mo assembly 
standard-model cottontail. Playboy 

ics come in all shapes—as long 


they're 
proportioned—all sizes, colors and 


who packed her bags two years ago and 
left her home town of Tampa, Florida, 
for the lure of Manhattan. “I wanted to 
prove to myself that I have what it takes 
10 make it on my own in the big city,” 
she says. It took a while, working up 
through such jobs as salesgirl ar Bloom- 
ingdale's; but now she's happily combin- 
ing a carcer as а Bunny in the New York 
hutch with another as a fashion model. 

North, Inga may well have 


En route 


crossed paths with С ale, who 
moved South from Elizabeth, New Jersey, 
to become a Bunny in Miami. But Cin- 
cinnati’s Elisa Simone, Chicago's Carol 
Imhof and Lyn Love, London's Jeannie 
Dorman and Ella Ga strict- 
athome girls. Mickey Hersch of 

a former schoolteacher; Cynthia 
Hall of Lake Geneva was a dental 
Jet Bunny Avis Miller, a b 
and New York’s Ava Faulkner, а 
medical aide; but becoming a Bunny in 
St. Louis was the very first job for Barbie 
Crawford. Both Atlanta's Nicole Cisa 
and New York's Nikki Minick were Army 
Dra; Miami "TES 


Several current Bunnies have also been 
featured as PLAYBOY Playmates of the 
Month and others are being considered 
for gatefold appearances—ior reasons that 
will appear obvious in the accompany. 
ing photographs. Readers will recognize 
PlaymateBunny Jean Bell, ше trans. 
planted Texan who has been making a 
hit both in the Los A es Club and 
as a semiregular on CBS-TV's The Bev- 
erly Hillbillies, and Playmate-Bunny H 
спа Antonaccio, who had just become a 
New York cottontail when she appeared 
in our June 1969 gatefold. And Jet Bunny 
Linda Donnelly may be seen in double 
exposure this month—on our cover and 
129, 

t time you're in one of the 
Clubs or Club-Hotels, look 
und and sce whom you'd choose as the 
winner of your own personal Bunny 
Beauty Contest. It might be one of the 
girls shown in this pulchritudinous pic 
torial. Then again, it might not; 

all. there are 769 others, 
appealir 
the keyholde 
for yourself. You could be a prize v 


Playboy 


visit the Clubs and judge 
nner! 


Actually, his grip's not too good, but 


look at that follow-through!!” 


ALL SBE NEEDS 


(continued from page 118) 
good burghers of New York felt this way 
about her, what must it have been like 
in Port Arthur, Texas? 

In Ann Arbor, they bring her back 
tumultuously for an encore. She takes a 
dazed, groping stroll to the organ for a 
sip or two of B&B from a Styrofoam 
cup. She feels а need to spit and does 
so behind the organ. "You're beautiful, 
Janis" a short fat youth yells. The 
encore is Piece of My Heart, ап old 
favorite from Big Brother days, and the 
rubberylegged. dancer to the lelt of the 
stage is now peculiarly on his back, with 
ns and legs flying in the air. The 


applause is so strong it seems an exten- 


sion of the amplified music, and s 
ready to perform till she drops. But 
nadyertently, the switch is thrown for 
the house lights and another gig has 
We could have kept going, 
she wails. “They loved us! What 


goii 
dumb asshole is on the lights? 
I move through the huge audience, 
getting reactions to her performance. A 
chieerleader-type. blonde, with dimples in 
her cheeks: "There's absolutely no one 
like her. When she sang that Summer- 
time, 1 cried, it got me so. she reveals 
herself and. it makes you so less ashamed 
т hang-ups.” 
napping girl: “Dyna- 


mite, man, dynamit 

They love her so much in Ann Arbor 
that someone steals her black pants less 
than five minutes after she changes into 


g for a musician, and Janis—ar 
h a bottle of gin against a Tat 
drought and wondering where her black 
pants went—goes to Detroit to hear a 
close white friend play in a small club in 
the Negro district, It is almost pitch- 
black inside—some customers using fash- 
lights—and it is far fom full. Jeff Karp 
is Janis friend, and he plays the har- 
monica s a small group. He 
has a у body, a great bush of 
hair and a polite, very friendly manm 
In a wild, uninhibited set, he n 
great sweeping motions, almost touch 
the floor with his instrument. His h 
goes back and forth, his elbows in and 
our, and when he finishes, he can hardly 
move his lips. It is a marvelous, quite 
pected performance. 

n, he's good,” Janis says. 
you know how much he’s getting here? 
Twenty-five dollars. Twenty-five! Tm 
never going to bitch again when Albert 
says talk 10 somebody or 1 have to ride 
in the front seat of a limo. No, sit!” 

A Negro group comes on to play Shot- 
gun and you know the stops are ош. 
Only one mistake is made. Janis is asked 
10 do a number; the applause is moder- 
but when she ambles up to the 


ne 


па 


mike, the Negro band does not know her 
numbers. She nods thanks to the people 
and goes back to her seat. At 4:30 in the 
morning, when she stands to leave, the 
white manager steps up and says, "It was 
a pleasure having you here tonight, Jan- 
is. Please come back and see us,” 

“Listen, man, that was a low-dass 
thing you pulled, so don't think you're 
petting away with it. You knew those 
guys didn't know my music. Just getting 
me up there was all you cared about. 
Low-classass thing to do, man, and you 
can go to hell.” 

In the car, her anger passes as swiftly 
as her smile appears, Onc thing that 
cheers her up is being able to play a tape 
of her Ann Arbor performance on the 
Sony. “Hey, listen to that, man,” she says 
to Jeff, who is with us on the drive 
back to the motel. “I blew this note here. 
Listen to it.” 

Jeff listens but 
he came into town у 


nts to rap about how 
terday mor h 
only pocket change. "One of these days, 
I'm going to be discovered," he says, half 
mockingly. He 15 20. "Man, I am ready." 

Janis runs the tape back, puts her саг 
near the speaker. She thinks she has 
heard something new. "Hey, listen, listen 
t0 what some guy is yelling in the 
audience. Man, too much!” And, sure 
enough, quite clearly in the background, 
a fresh adolescent voice comes faintly 
over the music: “Oh, fuck me, Janis, 
fuck me!” 

At the motel, John Cooke has left a 
пау with a halbeaten meal outside his 
squats and goes alter bits and 
fingers—a crust of hard 
mp green vegetable there. 
о keep her weight down 
and skips as many regular meals as possi- 
ble. But it's hard for her to pass up food 
thats just lying there, begging. It is 
minutes from dawn and а jet passes over 
so close that the building vib Janis 
is pinning her hair atop her head, mak- 
ing her look like one of those strong 
women from pioneer, covered-wagon 
days. She has placed a scarf over the 
motel lamp to give a slight illusion of 
home. A travel clock rests by her bed. 

/ 15 on the nose, John Cooke rouses 
all ids. n terms. Then 
the motel hallway is like a George Price 
cartoon: heads out of doorways, ап arm 
going down, а leg going up, girls, musi- 
cal instruments, a thin dazed frame in 
only Jockey shorts appearing and disap- 
pearing. Everyone assures me that they 
never get up this early in the usual 
but Janis and the band are to appear on 
the Ed Sullivan show this Sabbath and 
rehearsals start in New York at 11. In 
the [ront seat of the second car streaking 
toward the airport, Janis says, “I wanted 
to look as funky as 1 could for Ed 
Sullivan tonight, but damned if I don't 
think I may be too funky now." 

At Newark airport, which looks almost 
identical to the Detroit airport, there is 


h hei 


“ро you really want me to brush ту hair back? 
I have an obscenity painted on my forehead.” 


no limousine waiting at the curb. They 
sit on luggage, instruments snuggled be- 
tween their legs, watching businessmen 
nd West Point cadets clip by. Finally, 
their regular limousine driver, a young 
man who looks terribly hung over, ap- 
pears from the waiting room, He had 
been standing inside and failed to see 
any of them pass by. “Jesus, how could 
that happen?” he says, and then discov- 
ers that he has locked the keys to the 
limousine inside, the motor running. “I 
don’t believe it. How can this happen to 
me?” After an hour, it is Snooky Flowers 
who uses a bent coat hanger to open the 
door. 

"I knew my past training would come 
in handy someday. Shee-it! 

Reminds me of how I used to bust 
into cars down in Texas,” Janis says. 

The boatlike car glides toward the 
sunny Manhattan skyline and the driver 
puts on an Aretha Franklin tape. It 
is at a moderate volume, but everybody 
tells him to tum it down—particularly 
Snooky. It seems peculiar that people 
who play such earsplitting music them- 
selves in public cannot bear it loud in 


c 


their off-hours, but this is the case. Janis 
herself does not really like to listen to 
other people's music when she's free—ex- 
cept. om rare occasions, to friends like 
jell Karp. When she is relaxing, she 
prefers it quiet. 

In downtown Manhattan, the driver 
stops at a delicatessen to get Janis some 
orange juice as a peace offering for foul- 
ing up carlier. (Her friends bring her 
orange juice as some girls are brought 
flowers and. Чу.) At the Ed Sullivan. 
Theater on Broadway, she is given a 
private dressing room high above the 
street, but she can't st it long. She 
prefers to jump around backstage; and, 
as the hours pass, her color comes back 
and the tiredness seems to leave her 
By eight that night, showtime, she is 
blowing hz y from her face, getting 
the motor going. She goes on, taking the 
black stub of a mike as if it belonged to 
a human body and wildly letting go. A 
cluster of freaks in the balcony goes mad, 
while a graying man in the orchestra 
shades his eyes and screws up his face, as 
if pierced by heartburn, 

Ed Sullivan shakes her hand after her 


173 


PLAYBOY 


174 


two numbers but does not ask her to say 
а few words, as he does some of the acts 
Janis’ face shows a little hurt. She feels 
she has given а tremendous performance 
—knows she has—and she doesn’t want 
to be brought down. With an entourage 
that includes members of the New York 
City Ballet, which also appeared on the 
show this night, Janis rushes down to 
Max's Kansas City to celebrate and 
juice.” In the past 48 hours, she has had 
one and a half hours’ sleep. Tomorrow at 
Il, she flies to San Francisco, where a 
most important test awaits her. 


The city where it all began has 
changed. Haight-Ashbury—even on а 
dear, perfect day—has а mean, used-up 
look, like the littered ground after a rock 
festival has ended. People who used to 
walk freely through it at midnight, hand- 
ng out flowers, now say you have a 50-50 
chance of living if you appear there after 
k. The hippies—now called. freaks or 
cazies—have spread out into the far 
reaches of this unique city. Dead-eyed 
young girls in love beads say, "Got any 
spare change, mister?” along Market and 
through North Beach, Long-haired youths 
a Mackinaws and Indian headbands 
le along with their olivedrab sleep 
ing bags, as if a fresh resting place might 
be just around the corner. And music 
that used to be special and. undergro 
heard continuously over the popular 
radio stations. 


ET 


nd 


“And I thought Western Union just telegraphed flower: 


I climb the steps to Janis’ apartment in 
the Mission district. (She has since moved 
to a home of her own near Sausalito— 
equipped with pool table and a bank of 
glass walls that look out over a forest of 
redwoods one of her two room- 
mates, gree She is tall, dark-haired 
and built with n 
She came to San ight years 
ago, put up with one day of officework 
ind then fled. She modeled for cheesecake 
nd lost interest; she m; id and that 
didn't work. She grew up an orphan, The 
front door flies open and. Janis falls in, 
with groceries in both arms. “Hey, grab 
this, man. Take this he Behind her is 
Sunshine, the second roommate. Sun- 
shine is a blonde with a very loose, hip- 
swinging stride. She is a quarter Indian 
and for a while lived on 
in Wisconsin. Her childhood left much 
to be desired and high school, while it 
lasted. was miserable. She known 
Janis since the days when both were “on 
the street" but has been а member of the 
household only a few weeks. Liberated is 
not exactly the word for the two room- 
mates. They are ballsy, down to earth— 
but beneath are a vulnerability and hurt 
that go unartículated, except sometimes 
through their cyes All three girls arc 
Capricorns. 

"Man, what a bummer today!” Janis 
says and then tells how she and Sun- 
shine couldn't get service in the Buena 
Vista, a fashionable bar near 


day 


reservation 


Wharf. The w; 


itress had giggled at their 
outfits and wouldn't serve them. Finally 
Janis had to call the manager and tell 
him who she was. They got free drinks 
then. 

The girls have their own rooms in the 
apartment. Linda has a long table in 
hers for sewing. Sunshine sleepy in what 
doubles as the living room and in which 
stands а mammoth ivory-colored phallus, 
a piece of artwork Janis picked up and is 
proud of. Her own room has it large low 
bed with a sultan's canopy. All her win- 
dows are covered, no light piercing from 
the outside, and pinksatin sheets adorn 
her bed. 
is 


the even: 


ng before Janis’ first 
opening in San Francisco without Big 
Brother, and the girls decide to go out 
on the town. Janis drives her Porsche, 
which is painted blue, yellow and red, 
with a landscape painted on one side 
and mushrooms and butterflies on the 
other. Linda sits beside her, while Sun 
shine and 1 perch on the back ledge. ‘The 
car roars off, and then there are leaps over 
the tops of hills, flashes of intersections 
and the passing of everything moving in 
a grinding of gears. It reminds me of the 
chase scene in Bullitt. At a red light, I 
see a black lift up his fist. God, he's after 
us—but, no, it's the revolutionary sign. 
He recognizes Janis. We all give him 
back a peace sign and barrel away. We 
eat a turkey dinner in a barrestamant 
where they all know Janis, and then she 
finds the only parking space in North 
Beach. 

We shoot pool in a place that has a 
poster of Janis on the back wall. She 
bridges the cue in her curled forefinger 
and shoots like a man. While the juke- 
box plays Piece of My Heart and Down 
on Me, а line of people come up to hug 
either Janis or Sunshine or both, It 
seems Sunshine is as well-known in 
North Beach as Janis. Finally, at a late 
hour, Linda walks off down a North 
Beach street to look in on friends, while 
1 stagger off for a hotel bed. Janis and. 
Sunshine continue on into further reaches 
of the night. 

The following night is raw and wet 
and the crowd that mills around outside 
the Wimerland аге the Fillmore 


а 
district resembles the rabble on fight 
nights at the Cow Palace or Madison 


Square Garden—except for their dress 
They move through the dark high tiers 
inside in ponchos, floppy hats and leath 
er vests. One youth has taken olf his shirt 
and strolls bare-chested. Joints are passed 
at nearly every knot of people and gray 
smoke climbs like steam through the 
spotlights focused on the farolf stage. 
The voices аге muted, as if in anticipa 
tion of somet 
expressions are blank and и 

Look at ‘em out ther 
the dressing room backstage, hitel 


ng up 


her slacks, not able to sit still. “They're 
out there like crows, just ly... to 
pounce on something! 

It is a communal dressing room again 
and band members are flopped down, 
saving their energy. A mirror covers one 
wall and the ceiling slants, as in an attic. 
It is lit by candles. Janis swigs from a 
bottle of B & B while a procession enters, 
They embrace and kiss her, and then try 
to find squatting room. There is James 
Gurley, an original member of Bi 
Brother. He wears buckskin, recently 
having spent a month in а cave 
national park. and he embraces Janis 
much longer than most. Неге is Susie, a 
good friend from the сапу days. She is 
an llerina and is outfitted in a beret 
and peck-a-boo blouse without brassiere 
that makes it a joy to watch her lean 
over. She likes to ride Harley-Davidsons 
and can take а car cuj art as well 
as the average mechanic. She, too, hated 
gh school—and ran away from home 
in the Midwest as soon as she could pack 


ine 


е tried out 
“It was in 


Janis the night s 
for Big Brother.” Susie say: 


—and she seemed so, | don't know, 


scared . . . trying to please . . . wanting 
so much to belong. . . . I felt so sorry for 
her.” 


is goes on this id her voice 
a better, A changing light 
a huge screen behind 
her. A red balloon 
bounces up and down over heads. The 
huge black amplifiers, looking like left- 
over airraid sirens from World War 
Two, send out shock waves of music, so 
loud that the whole body reels. The liver 
vibrates, as well as the eardrums. 
Everything is there—but the audience 
does not respond and docs not call her 
back for an encore. Some say she should 
е sung some of her old songs (every 
ction to San Francisco) 
Others say the band didn't back her up 
well. A few say she was too tense, al- 
though admitting that her voice wa 
perb. In the dressing room, she is p: 
as if in shock, saying, "San Francisco's 
changed, man. Where are my people? 
They used to be so wild. I know I sang 


has never be 
show 


sel was new 


Bad set," says John Cooke. 

The next morning, Bill 
rock impresario who owns 
and West and. who is 
concerts at Winterland, sits at a cluttered 
desk in office overlooking 
Street. There is a weathered rug on the 
floor and а red-velvet couch for 
Graham does not resemble Sol Hurok or 
David Merrick, looking a shade on the 
order of a freak, except that his hair is 
not quite long enough. He usually 
speaks in a series of explosions, but now 


ım, the 
illmore East 


he says softly, pausing frequently and 
gazing out onto Market Street, “When 
she was an amateur was when it was real. 
АЦ this traveling she docs and all this 
attention she’s getting from the media is 
inevitable, perhaps. But it rubs off—no 
matter how honest and real she is—it 
rubs off. Last night was not like the old 
days, She should have at least sung one 
of the old songs. . . ." 

The second night. Janis loosens up a 
bit, sings Summertime and has toned 
down one or two of the musicians. The 
audience is much better but still is not as 
excited as those at Fillmore East or 
Ann Arbor. Yet it is an improvement, 
and Janis jumps around backstage. jab- 
bering happily about going off with a 
rried man who has broken free for a 
few late-night hours. 

The next day—a sun-drenched Satur- 
day—I drop by her apartment at noon. 
It is an imposition, I know, calling on a 
musician at such an early hour, and I 
bring two quarts of orange juice. She 
is terribly pale, quiet at first, clutching 
a long wine-colored robe around her. 
Then swiftly, something strikes her fun- 
ny Voowwww,” throwing 
back her head. I ask her if she thinks she 
represents а movement, if that is why 


ad she goes, 


unbelievable mobs of young people flock 
to see her. 

“I don't sand for any movement, 
man. I'm just myself. Bur I'll tell you 
what I believe in. I believe you should 
treat yourself. good. Get stoned, get laid. 


Unless it kills you, do it. Every minute is 
your own а should be happy." The 
phone a news photogra- 


pher wanting to shoot pictures of her in 
the afternoon. "Look, man, this is my 
only free day in а month! 1 have it 
off! For once, I want to do some of my 
own things. . . . OK, OK... shit... 
come on over, ther 

She looks sour for а moment but be- 
gins to relax slowly under the inevitable. 
She is on top now and everyone wants a 
piece of her time, if not her heart. It has 
taken a lot of struggles to reach where 


she is, too. But it is never quite enough, 
is i? 

A shaft of clear San Francisco light 
floods her pale skin and she squinches 


up her cyes as she did long ago in the 
photo of herself holding the Sunda 
school certificate. There is still much of 
that same little girl in her face. She is 
still looking up for approval. 


“Yes, things are really easing up.” 


175 


PLAYBOY 


176 


slipthisinto her drink 


(continued from page 86) 
separation and a lot of unhappiness. If this 
could be solved, then most of the prob- 
lems between husband and wife that 
psychiatrists see could be solved in bed. 
Опе of the best tools we have had in 
breaking down the barriers between mar- 
„ when an argument oc- 
the wife to take off her clothes 
Чу. My experience has been that 
nds most arguments successfully." 

Thus, while PCPA may someday 1 
doctors cure т sex problems, 
holds little promise for the unmarried 
lover seeking a handy chemical to assist 
him in his or her wooing. There is, 
however, one substance that can offe 
substantial aid and, in fact, has been 
used for centuries for precisely this pur- 
pose, Ethyl alcohol—booze—when. used 
in moderation, lowers sexual inhibiti 
Since it is quantitatively much less pow- 


erful than even the mild narcotics, it 
can be used effectively in lowering de- 
fenses without clobbering the central 
nervous system. Used in excess, of course, 
it has just the opposite effect. In fact, in 
their new book, Human Sexual Inade 
quacy, the St. Louis sex researchers Mas- 
ters and Johnson cite immoderate use of 
alcohol—getting zonked—as опе of the 
jor causes of impotence in the United 
As in other drugs dosage is 
nd the effects, of course, vary 
idual to individual. 

says one doc- 


ac, 


normal healthy couple with а normal 
physical attraction for each other, pleas- 
ant surroundings and perhaps а marti 
or so to relax them. Ogden Nash boiled 
down to the essentials when he wrote h 
classic line ‘Candy is dandy, but liquor 
is quicker.” " 


“You've built a better mousetrap, all right, but I can’t help 
wondering at the practicality of the nuclear warhead.” 


fore play 

(continued from page 140) 
draw Danny Thomas for a partner. 
Thomas is a clown and doesn't know 
when to quit. “Ladies and gentlemen, 
the most beautiful golfer in the world,” 
he announces himself and proceeds to 
swat an orange into smithereens. You 
wonder how Dave Hill will put up with 
him, if at all. Hill, who looks like a 
recent high school dropout, has a 
temper. Once, during a tournamen 
put a club behind his neck and bent it 
double. Bad, though not quite as bad as 
Tommy Bolt, who once threw all of his 
clubs—along with his caddie—into a wa- 
ter wap. 

‘The first day remains determinedly 
cold and gray. 1 wander from hole to 
Wells. Chi Chi Rodriguez 
ons but can't putt; 
Ray Floyd must have been partying, be- 
cause he can't find any part of his game; 
Palmer blows hot and cold and 
drawn an amateur named Tom Jones, 


has 


no's putts are rimming, but with a 
He luck he could w all; Boros is so 
steady he's sure to pick up a sizable 
chunk of the money; and Casper is just a 
little off. The clearest image 1 retain is 
that of Palmer, trying for a birdie on the 
eighth, watching his drive carom off a 
пее to the lelt of the fairway and 
bounce back on and ahead toward the 
green. He takes advantage of his luck, 
chooses to pitch and run to within three 
feet of the pin and, sure enough, birdies 
the par-four hole. He ends the day with a 
68, one stroke back of the five leaders. 

It has been a quiet, pleasant day, full 
of color and golf—good and bad. All four 
courses are within a few miles of one an- 
other, but the crowd has concentrated it 
self at Indian Wells. Some people h 
gone to Eldorado to watch Don 
O'Connor and Glen Campbell cut up; and 
at La Quinta, golfers like Ken Venturi, 
Gene Littler and Gay Brewer have drawn 
small, personal galleries. At Bermuda 
Dunes, where most of the rabbits (you 
winless pros) are playing, the outlying 
holes are deserted except for the players. 
‘OF course, there's an A and a B list, 
a pro tells me off the record, “and that 
holds true for the amateurs, too. The 
celebrities and big wheels get to play 
with the A's; the rabbits draw Joe Blow 
from Kokomo and nobody sees or 
hears them right from the start.” 1 find 
myself beginning to root a little for 
the rabbits, and the first day's results, 
posted in the press tent at La Quinta, 
the host course, are heartening. Somebody 
named Labron Harris and somebody else 
named Charles Coody have shot 67s at 


La Quinta and Eldorado, respectively, to 
share the lead with Larry Ziegler, Bruce 
Devlin and Bob Rosburg: and Rod Fun- 
seth, Bobby Greenwood, Wayne Vollmer, 
Mike Reasor, Don Bics, Bill Johnston 
and Dave Eichelberger are all right up 
there. Will we ever hear their names 
again during these five days? 

Palm Springs bills itself as the winter 
golf capital of the world, with a couple 
of doen courses already in action and 
others being built. Fiom the they 
look like rambling green lakes scattered 
about in a wastekind of white dunes 
wd vast housing tracts peppered with 
bright-blue swi g pools. At night, in 
the center of town, a few passersby clus 
ter about a huge scoreboard carrying the 
day's tournament results. The big week- 
end crowds have yet to arti 

"There's plenty of off-the-course action, 
however, even now. Restaurants like Jil- 
lys and Ruby Dunes and night spots 
like the Howard Manor and Ее 
Hideaway are bulging with celebrants, 


and private parties are being thrown 
everywhere. The amateurs come to these 


functions, but most of the pros are safely 
home in bed, tucked in long before 
midi ther as guests їп private 
homes or in one of the dozens of mote! 
that line the highway. Some of the pros 
be seen partying later in the week, 
Шу after it has become clear who 
make the cut and wlio won't. Until 
everyone is concentrating on the 
money. Especially the rabbits, who, yea 
after year, never haul down a big pay 
check but hope at least to survive till the 
last day and pick up a small piece of the 
money—enough 10 pay their motel bills 
and put into the car for the long 
drive to the next tournament on the 
tour. The rabbits are also called trunk 
slammers by the more succesful pros, 
because, after they to make the cut, 
you can see them walk out of the club- 
house to the parking Jot, open up the 


developed a fondness for fat lips. 

The A list on the second day is play- 
ing at Eldorado, the most beautiful of 
the tournament courses, cradled on three 
sides by the dark-brown, barren moun- 
tains that hem the desert in. At Eldora- 
do. four of the holes—the fourth, ninth, 
thirteenth and eighteenth—fnish against 
the clubhouse's terraces and it's possible 
to catch a glimpse, at least. of almost 
every foursome in action without having 
to do much walking. Even from there, I 
am struck, as 1 always am, by how little 
of any tournament you can actually see. 
The fact is that no one can claim ever to 
have seen a whole tournament; the best 


you can hope for is to pick your spots, to 
watdh a series of golfers play one particu- 
lar hole or to follow one golfer through 
several holes. The faithful year-round 
members of Arnie’s army never watch 
anyone but him, which means that they 
see nothing of a tournament but what 
their man does in й. А curious to 
follow a sport, not unlike watching a 
one-horse rac 

On the second day, the pressure begins 
to tell, Dave Hill, looking even surliex 
than yesterday, is having another bad 
day on top of the one Danuy Thom 
handed him at Indian Wells—a 73. Ray 
Floyd, trying to get onto the green of the 
ninth in two. hooks his drive into the 
er and spends а gloomy two minutes 
peering at the ball lying just under the 
surface. Appropriately, he is dressed en- 
tirely in black, while his caddie, a cheer 
ful gnome, sports a pith helmet. Chi Chi 
Rodriguez hits a beautiful wood straight 
down to the dogleg of the fairway on 
the fifth, drops his dub and applauds 
himself. "It couldn't happen to а nicer 
guy,” he says. Later, while tramping 
er his ball and keeping up a constant, 


deadpan chatter with a covey of pretty 
goll groupies who are obviously delight- 
ed with him, he observes, “You know, 1 
used to be the funny man ol the tour, 
till Lee Trevino came along. Now you 
to join Tievino’s goll 
school. He'll start you with the 
work you right into the woods. 
laughs, but by the end of the di 
Chi will be spouting fewer fu 
After missing 

puts, he mutters, “I play golf like а 
gorilla.” What is it the pros sty? The 
man who putts wius. 

Trevino is having a fine day, but his 
luck is still ош. On the parfour lth, 
for example, he hits а tremendous drive 
that cuts the corner of the sharp dogleg 
right and sets himself up for a birdi 
but he finds that the ball has rolled into 
a deep divot. “J don't mind," he tells his 
Fleas. “I used to mind, but I don't 
anymore.” After hitting his iron beyond 
the green, he explains how, when Palmer 
overhits, someone in his army will stop 
the ball with his chest. “When I do it," 
Trevino says, “my Fleas shout Olé! and 
flag it through.” But he’s playing well 
today and his confidence in himself. He 
comes in with a 67 and somebody tells him 
what Chi Chi's bee ng about him. 
“That lite Puerto Rican can walk on 
water. 


other in a series of short 


ES 


Trevino says. grinning. 

Palmer isn't having a good day. His 
army has grown noticeably and flows 
along both sides of the fairway ahead of 
him like a pair of huge, multicolored 
snakes. Amie talks to himself on the te 
urges himself to “find the hole.” His 
drives do just that, but his putting is off 
and I remember seeing him early that 


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178 


morning, practicing four-foot puus and 
missing some of them. He's still missing 
them, long and short, and he says—after 
coming in with a 71—"My putter has 
blood on it.” 
Most of the aowd at Eldorado re- 
ins clustered around the 
and the knowledgeable types keep an eye 
on the 18th, a 51-yard par five whose 
green is protected by water on the west 
side. The choice is to go for it in two 
and risk a dunking or lay up short and 
take по chances. A lot of blood flows 
very freely around that green, but not 
when Doug Sanders shows up. He had a 
75 opening day and is doing no better 
ау, but you get the impression he 
doesn't care, He has a cigarette dangling 
from his lips and he’s dressed all in 
lavender. He looks, Trevino tells him, 
like a frozen daiquiri. Someone to my 
right says the man obviously plays golf 
just to show off his clothes. There are a 
lot of girls following his foursome, and it 


clubhouse, 


isnt because Danny Thomas is in it. 
Thomas is up to his usual stunts, scream- 
ing for his momma, and he putts with а 
trick club bent cutely out of shape. 

By the end of the second day, most of 
the rabbits have disappeared. F find out 
that Larry Ziegler has blazed around 
Indian Wells in 65 and taken a three- 
shot lead, with Bruce Devlin shadowing 
him. Moon Mullins, a local pro in 
second year as the resident at Indian 
Wells, is two strokes back of Devlin. ОГ 
the A-list play i 
quick striking distance, five strokes 1 
and I begin to get the idea that maybe 
the A-list players. forced to compete in а 
ncarcamival atmosphere, are not going 
to make NBC happy on Saturday, the 
day before all the leaders come together 
in front of the cameras. 

1f you don't care much about golf, the 
peripheral action is worth catching— 
toward the end of the afternoon in the 
clubhouse at Indian Wells I discover 


“The catch is so difficult to 
undo that ils not only causing a great deal of 


embarrassment but losing me my friends 


this after having tried both the Eldorado 
and the Bermuda Dunes, where a couple 
of small dance combos begin Welking 
sprightly fox trots around 5:30. Here, 
the average age of the guests is 110 and 
the lindy is considered а daring innova- 
Чоп. At Indian Wells, however, the 
scene is pure carnage. Murray Arnold, а 
bandleader from Las Vegas, has set up 
shop in the main clubroom. long tables 
have been jammed together from wall то 
wall, the bartenders pour whiskey into 
glasses as if it were iced tea and everyone 
with a ше nonsense i soul— 
maybe a couple of thousand people— 
has swarmed into the joint. Never have 
L seen so many available girls of all ages, 
from teenyboppers with bare mid 
and bell-bottoms to swinging grannies 
minis. Nobody knows how they've gotten 
there or where they acquired the passes 
to get in, but security, thank God, is lax. 


n; 


The adorables are sprinkled along the 


st the walls, packed 
together into booths and clustered chirp- 
ingly around the tables and, naturally, 
there аге a lot of Don Juans hustling 
them. The last thing anybody wants to 
talk about is golf. 

‘The frst familiar face 1 see, however, 
belongs to Arnold Palmer. Looking slight- 
ly bemused, baton in hand, he is leading 
the band through a medley from Hair. 
Later, Donald O'Connor takes the floor 
to do a little mugging and some impro- 
visational dance steps with а variety of 
voluntcers from the audience. Alice Faye 
(yes, friends, Alice Fayel), looking half 
her аде in form-fitting sticks, has a few 
songs to sing and some jokes to crack. 
Other espontancos come and go and, in 
between, everyone dances, frugging and 
jerking in а dense, bobbing mass awash 
in enough noise to drown out a battery 


bar, lined up ag 


of cement mixers. 
I get into conver 
little 


tion with a trim 
blonde who, it turns out, is a 
round resident. It so happens she 
ited her house for two months and 
is currently living in her car, and where 
am I staying? she wants to know. A 
through frills 


couple of lovelies in эс 
tell me that they are secr 
time models and they have a slightly blue 
look around their eyes, because, they con- 
fess, they haven't been to bed—to sleep, 
at least—since the tournament began. I 


s and part- 


rescue a miniskirted number from a rick- 


ety chair she has been standing on to 
watch the proceedings, and it turns out 
she is a child psychologist from Long 
Beach. Her friend, a pixy with a mop of 
curls and a tiny waist, is a piano teacher 
from Redondo who's just dying to dance. 

One of the lady official, а handsome 
redhead in white slacks and blue blazer, 
laughs at everything I say and tells me, 


apropos nothing at all, that she has по 
dinner plans. A tall, beautiful. blonde 
with sleepless red eyes informs me that 
she's a television producer from Los An- 
geles who showed up to follow the for- 
tunes of her favorite rabbit, who, it turns 
yed so badly on his first three 
rounds that he’s already slammed his 
trunk lid and departed for Tucson to 
warm up for his next uy. In other 
words, the lady has been stranded and 
hasn't been able to find a room. but she 
thinks she can bunk with some pals at 
the Racquet Club. unless, she s: 
smile, I have some other sugges 
evening becomes а long, bubbly 
blur of laughs, drinks, musi 
rie and other pleasures. I can't remember 
now exactly where our large. unwieldy 
group of celebrants went, though I do 
recall other places, other bars. other dance 
floors and the sunken living room of 
some oil billionaire’s pad out of which 
we spilled. shrieki 
the dawn, 


pink 
‚ camarade- 


ext 
golf tournaments, and that is gambling 
—though nobody likes to talk much 
bout it. The pros dont bet—not in 
tournaments, anyway—but nearly a 
the amateurs, as well as most of the 
spectators, do; and the bets range from a 
friendly dollar or two to well up in the 
thousands. The bettors can play parlay 
cards or bid for a favorite pro in a 
Caleutta-type pool; but to get in on the 
big action, you have to have the right 
underground connections, since, needless 
to say, betting is not legal and the tr: 
fer of large amounts of cash from one 
pair of hands to another has been known 
to arouse the curiosity of the Internal 
Revenue Service. Yet every clubhouse 
during these major tournaments seems to 
have its quota of hard-cyed speculators, 
most of whom look distinctly out of place 
in the sunshine. 

Nor is golf itself the only form of 
gambling that goes on every day at rou 
maments and in country dubs, Back 
gammon and gin rummy are cxtremely 
popular. "There's more money won and 
lost after golf than during," an expert 
once confided. "You can blow a grand on 
the course and win five times that amount 
back in the clubhouse," The pros, how- 
ever, when they do gamble, stick pretty 
much to golf, where they know what 
they're doing and what the traffic will 
bear. "When 1 play a guy for $50 or 
5100," one of them has said, "I'll. let the 
bum hold his own. After a while, of 
course, he'll want to raise the ante. Usu. 


curricu 


ns 


g a tour. 
ment if he minded the pressure, and he 
is reported to have red that no one 
knows anything about pressure 
hasn't come up, as he has from the 


nsw 


who 


"I know it’s become something of a cliché, 
but you really do.” 


hustling world of municipal golf courses, 
where you can find yourself having to 
sink a 20-foot putt to win $100 and don't 
have enough money in your jeans to pay 
oll if you don't make it. That, my friends, 
s pressure. 

The mob at La Quinta on Saturday 
morning is huge and a lot of the people 
crowded around the tees and greens have 
rented little stands that look like invert- 
ed wastebaskets so that they can see over 
the heads of the early arri in the 
front rows. It's hard to believe that this 
crowd has come to see the golf, because, 
of the A-list players, only Trevino and 
Casper are still in contention and they. 

re six a strokes back, respec- 
tively. The leaders continue to be Larry 
egler and Bruce Devlin, with three 
ng them. and you would 
fans would get over 
to Bermuda Dunes to watch them play. 
Amold Palmer is nine strokes off the 
pace, but maybe his army expects him to 
make another of his spectacular late 
charges—though, of course, it wont 
desert him even if he doesn't. 

Temporary stands have been set up 
avound the greens of the ninth 
eighteenth holes and already some v 


ıd seven 


ers, armed with picnic baskets, Thermos 
bottles and six-packs of beer, are en- 
camped there to wait out the long day. 
Nearly everybody else, however, is surg- 
ing around the first tee, where the big 
celebrities and the game's glamorous 
figures are scheduled to show up. When 
1 get there, Ray Bolger, who is playing 
in Boros’ foursome, is cutting up. After 
executing a series of little dance steps, he 
whirls on Boros and wa club at him 
“I'm not going to play with kim,” Bolger 
ps. “He cheats.” The people love it. 
They laugh, applaud, banter with the 
celebrities. Chuck Connors, looking 
ated King Kong, is another 
How about а hand?" he exhorts 
the crowd and gets it. But through all 
the clow: 


ves 


is. there is an undercurrent of 


ng of 
something spectacular about to happen. 
The place is jammed with photographers 
and reporters, officials in blue blazers, 
preity girls in ligheblne miniskirts, dig 
itaries with big round badges stuck on 
their lapels and, overhead, from a tower 
for television Gameras are focused 
on the scene. 
Everyone is w 
foursome, 


iting for Doug Sanders 
which today will 


inc 


178 


PLAYBOY 


Vice-President Agnew, Senator George 
Murphy and Mr. America himsell, Bob 
Hope. Agnew's arrival is greeted with a 
big hand. 1 glance at the faces around 
me, which look as if they've been posed 
for Kodak commercials, and | w 
stand why golf is the silent majority's 
favorite game—no effete sı 
cilious sophisticates here. Sanders, ablaze 
nge today. greets ihe V.P. and tells 
him he's looking forward to the match, 
then introduces him to his wife, a perky 
little brunette. “I'm looking forward to 
it with great trepidation.” says Agnew, 
who admits he doesn’t get to play golf 
more than once a month, Senator Mur 
phy, a little gray man in a little gray 
golfing outfit, is hustled up to be posed 
for the cameras with Sanders amd the 
V.P. A Boy Scout festooned with merit 
badges is tossed in. Bob Hope, driving a 


der- 


bs nor super- 


in or 


w, 


custom-built golf cart handsculpted to 
reproduce his 
arrives 


amous profile, suddenly 
nd upstages everybody. A Miss 
Lorraine Zabowski, one of three socalled 
Bob Hope Classic Girls whose job it is to 
wander around ly nothing. 
propped up beside the V.P. as cameras 
click. Miss Zabowski has а round, inno- 
cent face, а great cascade of blonde hair 
па she confesses, blushing prettily, that 
she'd never even seen а golf dub before. 
cow's trepidation, it turns out, isn't 
misplaced. The V.P. hooks his drive 
into the crowd lining the [airwa 

п admirer shouts, "You're the greatest! 
Minphy slices and Hope ding: 
practically straight up in the air. 
пем second shot is mildly historic. It’s 
the one that hit Doug Sanders on the 
|, drawing blood. Who's going to 
follow this act? 1 wonder. 

Arnold Palmer, that’s who. It turns 
out that the ао cares less for celebri- 
ties and. politicians than for the Athlete 
ol the Decade. Arnie's appearance on the 


n ne 


now 


y just 


tee brings а fullthroated roar and а 
five-minute ovation. Watching him stand- 
ing d waving and smiling and 


nodding. you understand how he suc 
ceeded in making goll as popular as it is; 
clearly, he is to his sport what Babe 
Ruth, Johany Unitas, ВШ Russell. and 
Bobby Hull have been to theirs, only 
more so. Other golfers may now outshoot 
Casper or а Nicklaus—but no 
one outranks him. With his go-for broke 
style, with that reckless, lunging grace 
that hammers goll balls into the blue 
ad batters courses into submission, 
Palmer is it—the man himself. 

But following the play at La Quinta 
today is impossible. Fifteen thousand 
people are swarming all over the course. 
"The sun is bright and hot and so many 
fans have brought cameras that the click- 
ing of shutters succeeds in destroying 
even the normally supercool Casper's 


him—; 


180 same; eight times he is interrupted. in 


mid-swing and finally, he drops out of 
contention with a 74. And play is so slow 
that Palmer, who comes in with a more 
than respectable 69, says wear 
ike 1 was born and raised on 0 
The final day. when the low-70 
pros will compete only against one 
other, promises 10 be even more of a 
wer's nightmare. 

The real drama of the day is taking 
place at Bermuda Dunes, the most re 
mote of the four courses, with broad, 
gently rolling fairways set down smack i 
а hunar wilderness of sand dunes 
rock form When I get there, Zi 
gler, who started olf early that morning 
from the tenth tee, is just coming in on his 
last few holes—the seventh, a tough three; 
the eighth, a 540-yard par five with four 
ps around the green: and the 
90-yard par four that will yield a birdie 
to anyone who can really blast his dr 
The gallery, I'm amazed to discover, con. 
sists of about 50 people, true aficionados 
all. 

Ziegler is a big, blond 30-year-old fi 
St. Louis, who looks like an elong 
Mickey Mande and hits monster drives. 
So far, he has also been putting well; but 
now, as the fourth day draws to a dose, 
he shows signs of faltering, especially on 
the greens. He comes in with a 71 and I 
find myself wondering how he'll respond 
10 the pressure of the final day at La 
Quinta. Ziegler won $59,000 on the tour 
kıst year, but he has yet to 
onc of the major tournaments. 

Seven or eight holes behind him, 
Bruce Devlin, playing to an even smaller 
ery, turns out to be а cool customer. 
A tall, slender, ruddy-laced Australian, 
he plays a slow, deliberate, carefully 
studied game. He spends а lot of time 
терас ots, pauing the greens into 
shape and, all concentration, he 
well apart from his amateur com 
He mises a long рит on the parlour 
third and mutters, “I I want to make 
money, Ull make one of tho: But he 
goes on to bogey the fourth by failing to 
sink another putt, а three-looter this 
time, Yet not much seems to rate him. 
With three birdies, he picks up a stroke 
on Ziegler and you get the lecling the 
pressure won't bother him as much as it 
will the America all, has 
had to ser the pace for two full days 
now. At the end of the afternoon, in the 
comparative stillness of the Bermuda 
Dunes locker room, Devlin says calmly 
that he'd gladly settle for a 07 the last 
day and take his chances. You get the 


ап- 


down апу 


who, after 


fecling he doesn’t believe Ziegler can 
recapture his Friday form, when he di- 
maxed а great round by eagling the 


parve 13th at Eldorado, reaching the 
green with a driver and a three wood 
ind then sinking a 50-foot putt, Devlin 
dearly playing tortoise to Ziegler's 
hare. 


"The last day. the crowd numbers rough- 
ly 15.000 and Devlin's chase after Ziegler 
provides the excitement, Devlin, with 
irdies on the front nine, catches 
turn, and then picks up an- 
other bird he 15th, a good par-three 
Then, on the [6th, he wins all the 


hole. 


still another birdie, “I thought we were 
tied," he explained later, “and I deci 
to go for broke." I don't thi y 
ized until later what a fantastic 
ad shot—a 
inderpar 66 on the toughest of the 
Tournan соп He wins by four 
strokes, n astonishing total of 339, 
21 under par and only опе stroke aw 
from Palme 

T have two vivid impressions of the 
mony. The first is of Arnold 
Palmer, hands on hips and grinning at 
Devlin, barking into the television cam- 
eras. “Just how in the hell did you do it, 
Bruce?” The man still is and always will 
be the champion as long as he’s around. 
‘The second impression is of Ziegler stand- 


with 


tournament record. 


award с 


ing off by himself and staring [or a mo- 
ment at his check for second place 
estimating, perhaps, the difference be- 


tween this and first place symbolized by 
the $10,000 less he is reci 


/ lso there, as are the celel 
ties and the girls, but it’s all over now. 
are falling across the [air- 
ways, and the stands, littered with refuse. 
ате quickly emptying. Bits of paper blow 
over the greens and, in the distance, a 
Tong line of cars is crawling slowly our 
toward the highway, From the dubhouse 
comes the thump-thump of the dance 
band playing and, over it, the laughter. 
few typewriters are 
g and the NBC technicians 
ng down from their tower 
like arthritic monkeys. Behind the dub- 
house, the caddies are packing up their 
gear; and from the parking lot, you can 
hear the trunk lids coming down. It’s a 
long drive to Tucson. 

I remember Lee Trev 
fourth, watching his putts rim that first 
day and whirling to tell his Fleas, “I'm 
going to become a Mormon, beciuse I 
ain't sinking any puts as a Catholic!" 
But where are all the jokes for tliose who 
don't come in as high as fourth or even 
fortieth? 

On my way out, І catch up with Chi 
Chi Rodriguez, still as natty and imper- 
turbable as ever, despite his finish some 
where toward the middle of the pack 
“What do J like about all this besides 
the money?” he asks. He waves a hand 
around at the empty greens and end- 
lessly rolling fairways, at the trees and the 
mountains and the sky. “This is my 
office,” he says, “and 1 love my office. 


In the press tent, 


still bangi 
¢ clamber 


no, who tied for 


“The more s know А 
about sailing, the more 7 ¢ by: Ж 
you li ike the Cote dAzur 1 


PLAYBOY 


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M 


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TheSwiss Inquisition. 


There are seven outposts 20 hours later when we 


of the Inquisition currently T. finally found my wrist 
operating inSwitzerland: at = watch on the road where 
Bienne, La Chaux-de-Fonds, " I had backed out of my 
Geneva, St. Imier, Le Locle, driveway the night before. 
LeSentier, and at Soleure. va t There is no way of telling 
They are carefully dis- how many vehicles had 
guised under the name of runoverit. I picked up the 
The Official Swiss Institutes watch and placed it tomy 
for Chronometer Tests. ear. It was still running. 
And, at each of them, men - Neither my wife nor my- 
are employed to do things. self could believe this." 
to watches which you We wrote back telling 


wouldn't do to your worst him there was really no 


enemy. > need for him to have taken 
You see, before any watch / it off in the first place. 

can officially be called a T Like most ofthe work 

‘Chronometer,’ its movement that goes intothe watch 


has to undergo 15 days and itself, each Rolex bracelet 


nights of torture at the "RN is also made almost 
hands of these complete strangers. Then we perform 162 separate entirely by hand. 
They put each one into an oven, operationson it before we con- You'll recognise the Rolex 
lock it away ina refrigerator, hang sider it ready tobe fitted with its ^ Crownonthe clasp. 
it on iron racks in various wrist — hand-tuned rotor self-winding So will other people. 
positions, checking its accuracy Perpetual movement. "They'll probably also recognise 
each day. Screwed down onto each Oyster the distinctive shape ofthe Oyster 
Only when the movement case, just like a submarine hatch, case itself. 
comes through with fractional isa Rolex-patented Twinlock So now you may begin to 
variations in accuracy do they Winding Crown, which alone takes understand just how much trouble 
award it their carefully-guarded 21 minutely precise operationsto we go to in making each Rolex. 
title of ‘Chronometer.’ complete. Whichis pi bly why aman 
And an interesting fact is that This combination of seamless like Haroun Tazieff feels safe to 


one watch manufacturer—Rolex— Oyster case and Twinlock crown wear a Rolex both inside and 

has won nearly half the chrono- allows us to guarantee each Rolex outside of volcanoes. 

meter certificates ever awarded, ^ waterproof to vast depths, and has Апа why portraits of so many of 
eventhough we makeonlyatiny kept the Perpetual movement safe the world’s leading Heads of State 


fraction of the annual production during some hair-raising linea corridor in our Geneva 
of Swiss watches. experiences. headquarters, each one testifying 

This becomes a little easier to We have, for example, a letter that he wearsa Rolex watch, too. 
understand when you realise that from an American who dropped And why we feel justified in 
each ore of our watches takesus — hiswatchintheroad.havingtaken saying that every Rolex earns the 
overa year to make. it off to clean his car: “It was some recognition it enjoys. 

Firstly, we carve its Oyster case 
out of one solid block of either Each Rolex earns the 
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ог18сї. gold. You know the feeling. 

, 


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Pictured: the Rolex Datejust. Also available 
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“Today, Miss Simpson, in an effort to help you overcome your fear 
of men, I'm going to give you my shock treatment." 


181 


PLAYBOY 


182 


BREALCAS! mint pon ne 26 


water; remove skins and stem ends. Cut 
into sixths, press lightly and remove 
seeds; cut into dice. Cut cucumber in 
half lengthwise; remove seeds with spoon 
and cut into dice without pecling. Soak 
bread in water. Put all ingredients cx 
ccpt salt and. pepper. into blender. Blend 
at high specd I minute or until thor- 
oughly purécd. Add salt and pepper to 
taste, Chill. 


COLD BREAST OF CHICKEN WITH ALMONDS 
(Serves four) 
4 boneless and skinless chicken-breast 
halves with shoulder bone, if possible 

6-07. package sliced almonds 

Salt, pepper 

Flour 

2 eggs, beaten 

2 tablespoons butter 

Salad oil 

Place almonds in shallow 
preheated at 350°. Bake 15 minutes, stir- 
ring occasionally, until almonds are just 
beginning 10 turn light brown. Remove 
from oven and allow а 
room temperature, Place 
blender and blend at high speed unt 
pulverized. Sprinkle chicken breasts with 
salt and pepper; dip in flour, sh 
excess; then dip in eggs. coating thor- 


nds to reach 


almonds 


ughly. Pat almonds onto chicken with 
ums oL hand to coat completely. Melt 


butter with 2 tablespoons oil in large 
Brown chicken on both sides, 
turning carefully to keep coating intact. 


Add more oil to | 
brown uniformly. Transfer chicken to 
shallow baking pan and bake 15 minutes 
in oven preheated at 875°. Remove from 
oven. Chill. 

Allow 1 cup raw rice for four portions 
of rice salad. Cook, following directions 
on package. While rice is still warm, 
combine with chopped fresh tomatoes, 
very finely minced onion, sliced pitted 
black olives, chopped roasted sweet red 
pepper. olive oil and wine vinegar. Be 
generous with the oil; use a restrained 
and with the vinegar. Toss thoroughly, 
adding salt and pepper to taste. 

Pickled French string beans are avail- 
able in jars at gourmet counters. Chill 
well. Rolls should be small size, cut hori- 
zontally and spread generously with 
sweet butter at тоот temperature mixed 
with finely chopped water cress. If straw- 
berries are mammoth size, leave stems on 
for dipping into cold melba sauce, avail- 
able in jars. 

Later 
the eve 


п, if necessary, to 


the day, you'll want to start 
ner with a big relish dish 


“Sorry, sir, first class only!” 


piled with assorted black, stuffed and 
green olives, celery hearts and imported 
small artichoke hearts in oil. For pre- 
dinner drinks, offer a choice of South- 
west One, a bitter aperitif cocktail named 
after the London district in which it 
originated, or a tart apricot sour. A 
Southwest One is made by shaking vig- 
orously with ice 34 oz. vodka, 34 oz- 
orange juice and 34 oz. Campari and 
straining into a cocktail glass For an 
apricot sour, pour over ice in cocktail 
shaker 1 oz. blended U.S. or Canadian 
whiskey, Yo oz. apricorflavored brandy, 
Ya oz. lemon juice, 14 oz. orange juice 
and v4 teaspoon sugar. Shake well and 
strain into whiskey-sour glass. Both cock- 
15 may be assembled in quantity be- 
forchand and shaken w 


th ice just before 


serving. 
The main course that follows may be 
made in a large paella pan or heavy 


сера! 


of equivalent size or may be 
made in two batches, if necessary, over 
an outdoor charcoal fire. Onior 
mushrooms for the main dish, as well as 
the noodle casserole, should be cooked at. 
home as part of the movable feast. 


and 


BEEF TENDERLOIN SAUTE WITH. 


MUSHROOMS 
(Serves 12) 
9 Ibs. (trimmed weight) whole beef ten- 
derloin, stripped of all fat 

2 Ibs. small silver onions 

Butt 

Salt, pepper, sugar 

2 Ibs. fresh mushrooms 

1 cup finely minced onion 

1 tablespoon finely minced garlic 

410-02. cans beef gravy 

1 cup dry red wine 

1⁄4 cup brandy 

At home: Cut tenderloin into М-їп- 
thick slices; cut into Lin. squares or as 
dose to that size as possible. Chill. Pecl 
and boil silver onions in salted water 
just until tender; drain. In large sauce- 
pan, melt 3 tablespoons butter. Add 
cooked silver onions; sprinkle with salt, 
pepper and sugar and sauté until onions 
are lightly browned. Remove from fire 
and ФШ. Cut mushrooms into Vin. 
slices, Sauté in 3 tablespoons butter with 


minced onion and garlic, stirring fre 
quently, until liquid has evaporated 
from pan. Chill 


At outdoor fire: Melt 14 Ib. butter in 
large paella pan or saucepan over фаг 
coal fire. When butter melts, add sliced 
tenderloin, Sauté close to brisk fire, stir- 
ring almost constantly, until meat loses 
red color. Add mushroom mixture, silver 
onions, beef gravy, wine and_ brandy. 
Bring to a boil and simmer about 5 
minutes. Add salt and pepper to taste. 


NOODLE CASSEROLE WITH SCALLIONS 
AND PEPPERS 


(Serves 12) 


114 Ibs. fine-size noodles 

1 cup sliced scallions 

74-0. jar roasted sweet peppers 

y, Ib. butter 

114 cups light cream 

Salt, white pepper 

% cup parmesan cheese 

At home: Using white part of scallions 
and lightgreen part that is firm, cut 
them lengthwise in half, then crosswise 
wo thinnest possible slices. Drain pep- 
pers and cut into thinnest possible ju- 
strips. Cook in salted 
er, follo 
When tender, drain and wash them thor- 
oughly in cold water; drain again. Melt 
butter in рап: add cream and bring up 
to the boiling point. but do not boil. In 
a large shallow caserole (don't use a 
deep casserole or reheating noodles will 
be troublesome), combine noodles, scal- 
lions, peppers and cream mixture. Toss 
well, seasoning with salt and pepper to 
taste. Cover with tight lid and chill. 

At outdoor fire: Reheat casserole over 
moderate heat or Varaflame burner, stir- 
ring almost constantly and adding milk 
or авап, if necessary, to keep noodles 
from scorching. Mix cheese with noodles 
just before serving. 


noodles 


g directions on package. 


CREPES WITH COGNAC AND IRISH MIST 


(Serves 12) 


9 срез 

1% cups milk 

34 cup cold water 

Ys teaspoon salt 

14 cups sifted all-purpose flour 

1 tablespoon lemon juice 

1, teaspoons vanilla extract 

Grated rind of 1 lemon 

34 cup clarified butter oi 

Ya cup butter 

3 tablespoons suga 

5 ozs. cognac 

5 ozs. Irish Mist liqueur 

At home: Pour eggs, milk, water, salt, 
flour, lemon juice, vanilla extract and 
lemon rind into blender. Blend at high 
speed until batter is smooth, Heat 1 
teaspoon clarified butter in heavy cast- 
iron pan or cepe 6 ins, across 
bottom. Use a moderate flame and adjust 
from time to time, if necessary, to brown 
crepes uniformly. Pour 3 tablespoons 
crepe batter into pan (a jigger may be 
used as a batter measure) and tilt pan 
quickly to cover bottom completely. 
When the crepe is mottled brown on 
bottom, turn and brown lightly on other 
le. Remove crepe from pan, set a 
and continue in this manner until à 
batter is used. Fold each cr 
then in half again. Store, covered, in 
refrigerate 


alad oil 


At outdoor fire: Heat Y4 cup butter 
п a very wide shallow pan or in two 
pans, tilting pan to cover bottom com- 
pletely with butter. At once, place crepes 
in pan in a single layer, if possible. 
Sprinkle with sugar. Turn crepes to coat 
thoroughly with butter. Add cognac and 
Irish Mist. When liquors are hot, set 
ablaze. Serve crepes when flames subside. 

A tart red wine cup may be assembled 
and prechilled at home and mixed with 
ice and soda just before pouring. Three 
pitchers of the recipe below will yield 
two rounds for 12 balloonists. 


BEAUJOLAIS CUP 
1 quart (82 oz) beaujolais or similar 
dry Iruity red wine 
4 ozs. cherry hee 
4 ozs. lemon juice 
114 ozs. gren: 
8 to 10 Lin. pieces cucumber pecl 
12 ozs. iced club soda 
‘ombine and chill beaujolais, cherry 
leering, lemon juice and grenadine. Just 
before servir into 2-quart tall 
pitcher. Add cucumber peel and stir 
well. Add club soda and enough ice to 
fill pitcher to rim. Stir lightly. 

The preceding recipes will add the 
final flourish to the myriad. pleasures of 
a highflying balloon outing. Bon voyage 
and happy landings. 


pour 


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183 


PLAYBOY 


184 


A SMALL DEATH кила пов page 112) 


were aware that there was such a thing 
as the Constitution. It came 10 Peter that 
he and Makowski, having watched the 
whole disgusting business from the side 
lines, could do something about it. They 
could write a letter to Le Monde, as 
témoins oculaires, and if Le Monde 
would not publish it, they could take it 
to the Herald Tribune. Or they could go 
to court and testify in the students’ de- 
Tense, assuming there was a 
sort of hearing: he was ready to swear 
that the demonstration had been com- 
pletely peaceful until the police had 
used violence to break it up and he 
could swear, too, that several of the kids 
now in custody had not been among the 
marchers—the police had just arbitrarily 
seized them and roughed them up when 
they resisted. His heart thumping with 
excitement, he carefully memorized the 
features of two of the most vicious cops, 
as to be able to make a positive 
n. At the same time, his shy- 
ness made him hesitant of approaching 
the group in the Black. Maria, to promise 
his support, as though a wall of gi 
ted him on the sidewalk from 
а few feet away. as though he 
would be intruding. A weird kind of 
politeness was gluing him to the spot. 
He put the question to Makowski. "May. 
be we should give these guys our names 
and addresses." 

But Makowski did по He 
thought it was a lot of shit that he and 
Peter had а duty to offer themselves as 
witnesses. “OL course, the flics are sadists. 
C'est leur métier. The French take that 
for granted. You can't squeal about ‘po 
lice brutality’ in а court here. Everybody 
would think you were a fink.” His voice 
took on a note of whining, offended 
logic, as though Peter's proposal caused 
him physical pain. "Besides. yo 
‘guest of France.’ Remember? You don't 
interfere im a family quarrel unless you 
want you These French 
kids would spit on us if we stuck our 
noses in. They know how the system 
works: If they behave themselves and 
keep their mouths shut, chances are the 
cops will hold them a few hows and 
then let them go. Its entendu that they 
don't start yelling for a Lawyer or claim. 
ing thar the cops have hurt them." Natu 
rally, foreign students got a different 
Those dumb Swedes and 
Germans in the panier à salade don't dig 
it, but they're about to be deported.” 

“Deported?” Peter gulped, Of course, 
said Makowski; it happened all the time. 
"The foreigners in the lettuce basket were 
just unlucky. If you were a foreigner and 
pot picked up in one of these bagarres, 


them, 


head busted. 


you were automatically thrown out of 
the count: 

Peter was incredulous. “Thrown out of 
the country?” he scoffed. “Without a 


hearing or anything? But these guys 
from the Alliance ungaise have an ali- 
bi. They can prove they were in class 
when the march going on. You're 
nuts!” 

But Makowski only laughed. He indi 
cated two blond bespectaded giants 
whose heavy boots and white wool socks 
were protruding from the Black Ma 
“Twenty-four hours to leave the country!” 

“Just like that?” cried Peter, who was 
ng to be convinced. A craven fear 
for his own tenure on the Rue Monsieur 
le Prince entered his bones; in his mind, 
he slowly tore up the letter he had been 
writing to Le Monde and consigned it to 
the ash can of history 

“Just like that,” said Makowski. “They 
relieve you of your passport and you get 
it back at the airport. I tell you, it 
happens all the time. Thats why I kept 
my cool just now. It gives me kicks to 
bait the police, but France has other 
things to offer me and I w 
while longer. You know 

Peter supposed he mi 
bly, he continued to argue, unwilling to 
submit to the dictatorship of Makowski's 
view of things, which, Peter clearly saw, 
would deprive him of his freedom of 


t women, Fee- 


action: If you want to be your own 
master, his father used to say, always be 
prised by evil: never anticipate it. 


Then he thought of his Norwegian 
friend, Dag. "I couldn't figure out what 
had become of him. We had a date to 
watch the election on TV and he never 
turned up. His lindlady claimed he'd 
gone back to Могу. nally, I heard a 
rumor he'd been deported. He was great 
on attending rallies at the Mutualité. 1 
guess that’s what got him. Poor guy. 

Makowski was unsympathetic. He knew 
Dag's type—a law-abiding Scandinavian. 
‘They made the big mistake of always 
carrying their passport and their carte 
de séjour. Involuntarily, Peter's hand 
flew to his jacket pocket то make sure his 
were still there. “Mistake?” 
‘That only makes it easier for the 
police to deport you,” Makowski pointed 
out. He had a whole theory based on 
discovery that the French were a lazy 
people. “If a flic asks me for my passport. 
and I hand it over, I simplify his job. He 
pisses it on to his boss and they rubber- 
stamp me out of the country like а piece 
of second-class mail. But if Е tell them 
my passport’s at home, they have to 
figure out what to do next. Send me to 
get it and trust me to come back? 
Theyre not thar dumb. Or send an 
agent with me 10 where I live, which is 
probably six flights up in some crummy 
mansarde? Nine times out of ten, they'll 
headaches involved against the 
relative case of just letting me во, with a 
ng to watch it in the future. And 
in the tenth case, when the gambit 


doesn't work, I still gain time to make 
phone call 10 some connections І have; 

Peter listened with amazement to the 
wily Pole's exposition. which sounded 
irrefutable, like so many statements 
coming from the East This was quite 
different stuff from what they told you at 
the embassy, where they advised you to 
stay glued to your documents and to 
carry а card in your saying, 1 AM 
PETER LEVI. IN CASE OF ACCIDENT, NOTIFY 
erc advertisement 
th: incapable 
of penning, even as an exercise їп cil- 
ligraphy. Yet he wondered how his com- 
panion, whose age he estimated at 20, 
could know so much more than seasoned 
American officials. A tendency to boast- 


fulness was becoming more and more 
evident in Makowski, as Peter, his foil, 
became mecker and mecker; it was an 


effect, he noticed, that he seemed to 
on people. He was ashamed to think of 
the molelike life he had been 
Since he had left his hotel, 
asked him for his passport, e 
s cashing а travelers check 
press—something Makow- 
ski, he supposed, would not be caught 
dead doing. "Number one, dh 
his mentor continued, "Number two. 
they're interested only in their next meal. 
If you put those two facts together, you've 
got this country in the hollow of your 
hand." He scowled at the distant clock 
on the Montparnasse station. "Have vou 
noticed—there are hardly any clocks in 
this town? They hate to give away the 
time, free.” Peter laughed. He had made 
the same observation himself. "Ten past 
twelve,” said Makowski. “The fun here 
is over. In five minutes, the flics will be 
knocking off for lunch and. Allce-Allee- 
Out’s:in-Free.” 


ce. 
Appearances bore him out. ‘Lhe Black 
Marias at either end of the block were 
still waiting, with open doors, and Peter 
could still hear an occasional [атой po 
lice whistle shrill all by itself like Ro- 
land's horn, but the householders on the 
Rue de Rennes had setired from thei 
balconies, shutting their French win- 
dows. On the street, the traffic was run- 
ning normally again, the curious crowds 
had dispersed and noontime lines were 
forming at the bakeries, The two cops 
on the corner were stamping their fect 
and looking at their watches. Peter's own 
feet were cold. "You want to have a beer 
in the café here?” he suggested. 
But Makowski was late already for a 
te with a girl at the Flore. "Why not 
join us? We can pick up another chid 
Peter was strongly tempted, but he 
had his plant to take home; he could 
almost feel it shivering in thc autumn 
wind. Besides, in some crazy way, he felt 
he owed it to the group in the Bl 
Maria not to leave the scene while they 
remained in duress, able to watch h 
depart. Somebody had to hang around, 


1y thin, 


“If there's ar 


g you'd like to know that 


isn’t in that РОГА Miss Abbott. . . . 


185 


PLAYBOY 


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just as a matter of courtesy. "Maybe 
Tater,” he said. “If you're still there.” 
Makowski loped off to the bus stop. 
Too late, Peter realized that he had 
forgotten to ask him for his address, 
which meant, he guessed, that he was 
gone beyond recall. He was not sure how 
much he really liked the Pole, but ob- 
viously, they had something in common 
as hyphenated Americans of an uncom- 
mon kind. А 95 was coming. He watched 
Makowski get on, not waiting his turn, 


of course, but charging past a line of 
people that had been st 


nding there pa- 
tendy. Peter d the pain of 
grimly noting tions, for just 
then, a small dark student came darting 
out of a building, chased by а concierge 
with a broom. Peter recognized one of 
the leaders of the march. His pursuer, an 
aged nemesis, was screaming for the po- 
ice 10 apprehend him: He had been 
hiding in the service stairway, she pant- 
ed, and he had done peepec—"Oui, il a 
fait pipi dans mon escalier de service!” 
Immediately, a new throng materialized, 
laughing and passing the word along. as 
the boy dodged into a doorway. What 
floor? a joker demanded. "Le sixiéme, 
monsieur,” she answered with dignity, 
resting on her broom and regaining her 
breath; the gendarmes advanced. 

“Il n'était. pas pr 
tweed overcoat said, winking, to Peter. 
“Il n'était pas pressé, hein?" the old man 
repeated, to а workman in coveralls. 
More people came, pushing and shoving, 
and the criminal profited from the con- 
fusion to race ош. zigzag adroitly be- 
tween them and spring with a bound 
onto the bus, which had started to move 
as the traffic light turned green; the 
ticket taker, like a trained. confederate, 
quickly released the chain barring 

to the platform. The boy 
ducked into the interior of the bu 

The police were slow in reacting; they 
stood as if mystified on the sidewalk, 
evidently not grasping where their quar- 
ry had got to. Then whistles blew. The 
cop on the next corner waved to the bus 
to halt. Peter ground his teeth, It was a 
tricky intersection, where three streets 
met—what the Romans called а trivium 
-omened juncture. And there 
were cops, all of a sudden, on every 
comer, From where he stood, he was 
unable to sce exactly what happened 
next; but in а minute, the forces of order 
were dragging the tall Pole to the lettuce 
basket, 

For a moment, Peter was simply 
stunned, It seemed plain to him that 
everyone except the stupid police must 
see that they had got the wrong boy. Yet. 
no one moved to interfere. The con- 
cicrge of the violated building stood 
nodding with satisfaction as Makowski 
а into the paddy wagon. A wild 
conjecture passed. through Peter's head: 
Could Makowski be doing a Sydney Car- 


was sp 
their те; 


was tos 


ton? The Poles were alleged to be quix- 
otic. In any case, he decided to wait till 
the bus had crossed the Boulevard Ras 
pail, bearing the small demonstrator to 
safety. Then he counted 20 and sallied 
up to а gendarme. To his surprise, he 
did not feel his customary worry about 
making mistakes in French; the words 
came out as though memorized ahead of 
time from a phrase book for this emer- 
gency: and in the back of his mind, he 
recalled with interest the saying of Kant: 
‘The moral will operates in man with the 
force of а natural 


Pardon, monsieur Гарет; je peux 
lémoigner pour mon compatriote. Il n'a 


pris aucune part dans la manifestation. 
Il ne s'est pas caché dans l'inmeuble de 
madame. Il était à cóté de moi, tout le 
temps, sur la chaussée, en simple specta- 
teur. Et il ne ressemble en aucun détail 
au jeune homme que vous cherchiez” 
"The gendarme һе addressing had. 
been joined by two others. Silence. They 
seemed to be waiting for Peter to contin- 
ue. But he had stated the facts: Makow- 
ski had been standing next to him on the 
sidewalk during the entire demonstra 
tion; he did not bear the slightest re- 
semblance to the suspect they were alter. 
"C'est tout.” he added hoarsely. "Croyez- 
The kids in the Black Maria had 


ti 


moi 


slid forward to listen, Makowski was 
smiling strangely. Peter became aware 
that he had said pavement when he 


meant sidewalk. "Je veux dire le trot- 
oir.” Without warning, he had started 
to tremble violently; he saw the Fatshed- 
era quaking in his hand and 
that he was having an attack of stage 
fright. 

It was like the time he had pl 
Jacques in school and had had to lean 
against а wee in the Forest of Arden and 
all the у shook. He had not 
grasped at first why the audience of boys 
and parens was hughing—"Sembrava 
un boso di pioppi tremoli," was his 
father's comment; "A Forest of Aspens. 
It came to him now that all these people 
were staring at him dumb-struck because 
he looked weird with his tall companion 
plant; the cops probably thought he was 
а “case. 

"Demandez aux autres si vous ne me 
croyez pus!” he cried, geting angry. 
“Tout le monde ісі peut confamer que 
He was not the sole 
witness to the fact that Makowski had 
not budged from the curb; there were 
the flower seller on the corner and the 
newspaper vendor in her tarpaulin shel- 
ter—courtesy France-Soir—and the butch- 
ers in their bloody aprons, They had all 
been standing there like stage extras or 
a speechless chorus, contributing local 
color. 

Qu'il parle bien le français!" 
murmured behind him. Peter disregard- 
ed the flattery. He was going to insist 
that the cops take his testimony. 


je dis la vérité!’ 


а voice 


"Voici mon passeport et та carte de 
séjour!” 

A shower of membership cards, guar- 
antees and certificates fell to the p: 
ment as he scarched wildly in his wallet 
for his carte de séjour, which to his 
chagrin was mot in his pasport; he 
hugged his plant awkwardly to his body 
10 free a hand. Bystanders picked them 
up and restored them to him; a young 
lame girl offered to hold the Fatshedera: 
"Quelle belle plante 

The senior gendarme, who seemed 10 
be a sergeant, took the documents and 
slowly looked them over, frowning at 
the membership in the Jeunes Ornithol- 
ogistes de France, "Qu'est-ce que c'est que 
ca?” He found the carte de séjour folded 
into the yellow health certificate. He 
studied it. Then he tapped all the docu- 
ments into a neat pile and handed them 
back, together with Peter's passport. 
"Bon. Merci, monsieur, Tout est en rè- 
gle,” he said. “Allons-y!” he shouted to 
the driver of the Black Maria, The mo- 
tor started. Peter gulped. They were not 
going to release Makowski! Apparently, 
he was supposed to count himself lucky 
that they were letting him go free. He 
gave an inarticulate howl of despair. 

In back of him, someone coughed 
tively. He heard a hoarse, deep 
le voice. “Il a raison, messieurs. 
mericain vous dit la vérité. L'autre 
m'en était pour rien, Qu'est-ce que vous 
faites là? C'est une honte." It was les 
Journaux in her leather apron and thick 
Sweaters. Peter had always bought the 
Times and Tribune from her when he 
lived in the hotel on the Ruc Littré; û 
juste ciel, she recognized him! He felt a 
lump in his throat. He had made it: he 
was finally “accepted” by old Marianne, 
la france. 

And now other “popular” voices were 
joining in, muttering and grumbling— 
les Fleurs, a window washer, an old lady 
with a cane, "Soyez raisonnables! Qu'est- 
се que cela vous foul? Aprés tout! Un 
peu de calme! Ge sont des enfants!" 

The police sergeant appeared to re- 
Пес. Hi ates were watching 


ski. And, of course, Makowski did not 
have any. “Et alors?" said the policeman 
sharply. That settled it. This was France, 
after all (the embassy was right), and, 
regardless of any specific charge, not hay- 
ing your papers was prima-facie evidence 
that you were up to no good. 

The attitude of the bystanders con- 
firmed this. "Il m'a pas ses papiers. 
Zul!” А collective shrug disposed of the 
Pole, whose broad face had assumed a 
plaintive, aggrieved, innocent expression, 
as though he could not dig what this fuss 
was all about. You would think he was 
some hayseed who had never heard of a 
travel document. Peter himself experi- 
enced an appreciable drop in sympathy. 
What a clowi 

The doors of the Black Maria were 


"I'm afraid what you have here, Sir Gerald, is 
not a Seventy-four mint aigle d'or but a bit of simulated gold 


foil wrapped. round a disk of stale chocolate." 


shutting on the heap of sprawling kids 
Peter's conscience jabbed him. "Makow- 
ski" he yelled, "Jan! Don't worry! ГЇЇ 
go tell the embassy. Right away, 1 
promise," 

“Stay out of this, Peter Pan!" the 
Pole's voice answered rudely, adding an 
obscenity that made Peter hope that 
these French did not understand Eng 
lish, He fell back a step, feeling his neck 
turn red. It came to him that, insanely, 
Makowski held him responsible. Doubt- 
less, he had counted on the vérification 
d'identité taking place later, relative 
privacy, at the station house or wherever, 
when the cops had had their lunch and 
were in a good humor. But now it was 
public knowledge аг he had been 
picked up without any papers. 

Peter declined to swallow Makowski's 
tales of mass deporta that could 
not happen to American citizens, he felt 
sure. But in the face of those closed 
black doors, his confidence was eroding. 
The tumbrel's engine started. He realized 
t he did not even know where they 
ng Makowski now. The specta- 
tors on the corner would not commit 
themselves. “Sais pas.” “Ah, non, mon- 
sieur, je ne saurais pas vous le dire 
“Peut-élre à Beaujon?” “G'est pas mon 
affaire. Demandez aux gendarmes" But 
Peter—the old story. he guessed—felt a 
horrible diffidence about asking the flics 
outright. 

The window washer came to his res. 
cue. "C'est pas la peine, mon gars. Ils ne 


le disent jamais. La police, vous savez. ~ 

The Black Marias motor was still 
idling. Once it bore Makowski off. Peter 
might never be able to find him in the 
maze of French bureaucracy. With sud- 
den resolution, he banged on the door. 
A policeman stuck his head out. Peter 
asked if he could accompany his friend, 
as a witness, “G'est pas un laxi, mon- 
sieur," the policeman retorted, slamming 
the doors. In the interior, Peter could 
hear raucous laughter. 
lors, avvétez-moi! 
Foutez-moi la pai: 
bling reply. 

It was typical of the French that if you 
asked them to arrest you, they would not 
help you our. In his fury, he thought of 
a тис. All һе had to do was open his 
mouth and say “Nazi!” and every flic in 
the quartier would spring on him. He 
would not even have to say it very loud. 
He swallowed several times in prep. 
tion. At home, among his peer group, һе 
could speak lightly of the cops as fascists: 
but now, то his astonishment, his vocal 
cords felt paralyzed. As in a nightmare, 
his mouth opened and closed. No sound 
came out, Yet it was not from fea 
as he could determine, but from а pro- 
found lack of inclination. 

His father was always giving people 
the drill if they used the term fascist 
when, according to him, they should 
have used conservative. or repressive or 
just brutal: If vou kept throwing that 
term around, like the boy aying wolf, 


he shouted. 
came the grum- 


187 


PLAYBOY 


as am expression of simple dislike, you 
would be unable to recognize real fas- 
cism when and if it came. Peter could 
not recall all the "objective criteria" that. 
the babbo said had to be present to 
justify a diagnosis of fascism, but he felt 
certain the French police would not 
qualify. 

Yet there was more to it than t 
some squirming aversion in him. related 
maybe to delicacy. Actually, he was un- 
able to imagine circumstances їп which he 
would find it casy 10 call anybody a 
Nazi, induding Hitler, probably, If you 
called Hitler a Nazi. he would not mind, 
obviously, so what would be the use? 

A flic in a blue cape had emerged 
from the corner café, where presumably 
he had been telephoning or answering а 
call of nature. He barked out an order 
to the driver. Peter heard the dash of 
gears, It would be hopeless to chase after 
the police wagon. Even if it had to stop 
for the traffic light at the next corer, he 
would be incapable of keeping up for 
more than а block, hampered as he was 
by his plant. Then in the distance, he 
sighted a taxi coming up the Rue de 
Rennes. He dashed into the street to flag 
it down, foresecing, as he waved, that the 
driver might dedine to follow the panier 
à salade; they loved telling you no. Clos- 
ing his eyes, he recited one of his magic 
formulas: “Perseverance, dear my Lord, 
Keeps honor bright. 

“Attention!” someone called. 

The police wagon shot backward. Pe- 
ter jumped out of the way. His heel 
stuck the curb behind him; his ankle 
turned and his long bony foot got caught 
n an opening in the gutter. He lost his 
balance, tried to right himself. throwing 
out his arms. The Fatshedera was sliding 
from the crook of his elbow. Endeavor- 
ing to catch it, he fell As he did, a 
ringing, explosive sound reached his 
cars, sceming far away; it was the clay 
pot shattering on the pavement, Some- 
body was helping him up. They were 
asking if he was hurt. He stole а glance 


at— 


around. Moist black dirt and red 
shards and slivers of the pot were scat- 
tered all over the street and sidewalk; 


the plant was lying in the gutter with its 
whitish root system exposed. Les Fleurs 
carefully picked it up and wrapped it in 
a newspaper. “Tenez, monsieur,” She 
handed it to him. He thanked her. She 
meant well, he assumed. But he had seen 
the crown of pale new leaves lying a 
yard away, like a severed head, near the 
Métro entrance. Some passer-by had al- 
ready stepped on it, leaving a green 
smear on the sidewalk, 

The Black Maria, naturally, had made 
its getaway, after putting him hors de 
combat, YE Peter had not leaped aside, 
would the hitand-run driver at the 
wheel have jammed on the brakes in 
time? According to Dag, a lot of “traffic 


188 accidents” were really engineered by the 


Deuxième Bureau. And if the cops killed 
a peron while giving him the third 
degree, they just stretched the body out 
on the autoroute on Sunday and called 
it a highway death. SI г sat 
down on the top step of the Métro 
entrance and buried his head in his 
hands. His ankle hurt and, pulling down 
his sock. he found blood where he had 
scraped it. Maybe he would get blood 
poisoning and croak. He ought to find a 
pharmacy and buy some Mercurochrome, 
but at this hour they would all be closed, 
probably. ‘The butchers had taken in the 
meat, and the fruit 


nd-vegetable mer- 
chants along the Rue Notre-Dame-des- 
Champs were covering their produce. Les 
Journaux was bending over him, wonder- 
ing if he was all right. He got to his feet. 
Votre planie,” she reminded him. 

He picked it up. In his mind, he 
mimicked his mother’s consoling voice: 
“Never mind. We'll get another, Peter. 
Aloud, he cried out, “No!” 

While he was sitting there, nursing his 
ankle. a vile temptation had visited him, 
whose source was that artful Eve, his 
parent. There was an amusing plant he 
had read about in his manual, known as 
dumb cane, a member of the Die[fen- 
bachia species; when chewed, it pa 
lyzed the tongue. If he were to whip over 
to Les Halles this afternoon and look for 
one . . . ? Today, as it chanced, was 
Friday. He thrust the thought from him. 
He would have no more plants in his 
Stygian kingdom, no substitutes, succes 
sors or duplicates; and. as for the F; 


ats- 
hedera, he would not take it home for 
decent bur 


He would junk old Fats 
here at the scene of its decapitation— 
good riddance. Yet a last trace of human- 
ity remained, he was sorry to perceive, in 
his hardened heart. He could not per- 
form the committal in plain view of les 
Fleurs, whose stubby chilblained hands 
had wrapped the grisly trunk in France 
Dimanche: She would be somy for her 
trou 
found another trash b: 

‘Actually, he disposed of it on Ameri- 
can soil, in a wastebasket at the embassy, 
where he went to report Makowski's ai 
rest to a bureaucrat in the consular sec- 
tion who could not have cared 1 
you students take part in street demon- 
strations, there’s nothing we cin do to 
help you. I's strictly against regulations 
for American citizens to meddle in 
French politics.” 

“He wasn’t taking part in a dem- 
onstration,” Peter protested. "You just 
wrote that down yourself in your note: 
He standing on the curb, next to 
me. 


"The official frowned over his notes. 
“Ah, yes, so you said. I see it here. Well, 
all I can tell you is the next time you see 
a march or a demonstration, walk 
ly in the opposite direction. Do 


there to gaup. For one thing. you may 
get hurt, A few years ago, during one of 
their protest rallies, some 
were crushed to death in a Métro ci 
mance. Luckily, there were no Americans 
among them. 

Silence followed. The man fiddled 
with some papers on his desk. "You 
mean you won't do anything?” Peter 
said finally, “Ts that the embassy's polic 

Consular policy,” the man corrected, 
“is opposed to taking unnecessary action 
s unfamiliar to 
us аз you appear k. Ordinarily, 
the French police hold these people а 
few hours, to teach them a lesson, and 
then let them go. 

Yeah," said Peter, “I've heard that, 
too. But I've also heard that they deport 
foreign students they pick up, just like 
that, without a trial or investigation or 
anything. Actually, it happened to a 
friend of mine.” 

“An American?” 
Well, no.” 

‘Just as I thought. It's rare," he went 
on in a musing tone, "that they deport 
an Americin unless he’s been up to some 


mischief. Odd as it seems, they discrimi- 
our favor. One of 


nate, if anything, i 
those lite diploma 
have something to do with the balance 
of payments. Every one of you students, 
you realize, who stays here getting money 
from home and spending it is hurting 
the balance of payments. 

From the wall, the photo of Lyndon 
B. Johnson looked at Peter with eyes of 
reproach. The official leaned across the 
desk. "And are you sure that this Ma- 
kowski is a naturalized citizen of the 
United States?" 

m not swe. I only met him th 
morning. But he talked like ап Amer 
can." 

"Didn't you sce his passpore 

“That was the whole trouble! I ex- 
plained to you. They were just going to 
let him go, when it turned out he'd left 
his passport at home." ' 

“He did ibe it specifically 
American passport?” 

Peter sighed. “No. Why would he? 
ne anybody saying, ‘I left my U. 
passport at home this morning.” 1 me 
that would imply you had several pass- 
ports.” 
тп not here to engage in semantics 
with you. And under the circumstances, 1 
don't see how we can help you. We can't 
intervene without more informati 
than you've been able to fu 


we get about you students. Usu 


ly from 
parents wanting us to find out why 
Bobby hasn't written. If we called thc 
polic and the hospitals about every 
Tom, Dick and Harry, we'd have no 


ime left for normal consular business." 
He got up. "Run along, now. If your 
friend doesn't turn up in a day or two, 


“Notice how they seem to follow you around the room?” 


PLAYEOY 


190 


come back and see me. That's the best I 
can offer. 

"Great!" said Peter bitterly. “You 
haven't understood the point. I don't 
know his address. So how can I tell if he 
turns up or not?” 

“You can find him at the Sorbonne, І 
suppose." 

“He's not at the Sorbonne. He's at the 
Institute of Oriental Languages. And to- 
morrow is Saturday. The embassy will be 
closed. By Monday he might have been 
deported. They give you twenty-four 
hours to leave the country.” 

His hoarse voice broke. Some secre- 
taries looked up. In a minute, he sup- 
posed, they would call the Marine guard 
to remove him from the chair to which 
he remained glued, feeling too weak and 
dejected to dislodge himself. He remem- 
bered that he had not eat 
ing. Then the man reached 
and spoke in a kindlier tone. “I tell you 
what you do. Here's a jeton. "here's a 
pay phone in the corridor, by the cash- 


Call the commissariat of 
the arrondissement where this bagarre 
took place and ask if they're holding 
your friend. The commissariats are listed 
in the front matter of the telephone 
book. Then come back and tell me the 
result.” 

“There won't be any result,” said Pe- 
ter, getting reluctantly to his feet, "You 
don't know the French, sir, the way a 
student does. ICH just be a waste of а 
jeton. Can you figure me trying to spell 


ier’s window. 


tonSuzanneKlleberlrm. gave a 
hollow laugh. “If you'd call. it would be 
different, They listen to somebody with 
authority 

“On your way,” stid the man. “Right 
through those doors. 

It was just as Peter had prophesied. 
“They hung up on me,” he reported 
back. “I think they recognized my voice.” 

For the first time, the ollicial cracked a 
smile. He chuckled. “Oh, Jesus!” he 


id. Still overcome by merriment, he 
air and Peter obedient- 
ly sank down. He failed to get the joke, 
but it did not matter. He knew he had 
crossed the Rubicon. He watched the 
man pick up the telephone. "Monsieur 
Dupuy, s'il vous plait... . Bon, j'attends, 
-. . Allô, Jacques? C'est nous encore. Pas 
mal. Et vous-méme? Qui, c'est ça. Une 
petite bagarre. Comme d'habitude. Vous 
étes au courant? Un certain Makowski, 
étudiant. . . ." He doodled оп а pad. 
h, bon, bon. Merci. la prochaine 
fois, Jacques.” Jan Makowski, naturalized 
U.S. citizen, born in Poland, d been 
released at 3:50 r-w., alter verification of 
his paper 
Peter guessed Makowski had scored, 
after all. He left the embassy in a good 
mood. In the end, the viceconsul (he 
had given Peter ) had seemed 
1 that somebody had prodded him 
to being somewhat better than he cus- 
ly Was, It was funny how people 
er remembered the well-known fact 
that virtue was its own reward but had 
to keep discovering it as a novelty. In 
the garden, he paused to pay homage to 
the seated statue of Ben Franklin in his 
wide bronze rumpled coat. He liked the 
patron saint of inventors sitting mildly 
amid the ornamental shrubbery. He 
looked homemade, like the funny Stars 
d Suipes still waving over the еті 
sys portal. Some sh ivy was cli 
ing up his pedestal. 

Peter took the lay of the land. Outside 
the gate, two gendarmes were walking 
up and down. In the driveway, a chauf- 
feur sat at the wheel of a big Ыл 
embassy car. But nobody was ра 
tention to him in the gathering winter 
dusk. He advanced stealthily toward the 
statue, taking his time. With his trusty 
pocketknife, he cut some long shoots of 
ivy. When one of the gendarmes glanced 
his way, he had 


ng. 


shaped leaves of the Fatshedera’s creep- 
ing cous bosom. 
Hedera helix rooted casily in water, 
then you could pl n earth. Satis- 
fied by this act of vandalism committed 
on U.S. property, he sped toward the 
Métro station. The idea that a new de 
zen of his apartment had been acquired 
free of charge and at some slight per- 
sonal risk compensated. him for the ра 
ing of the old one. Life had to go on. 
Actually, in the place of one sickly speci- 
men, he could have a whole lusty tribe, 
in pots, tained on strings to climb up 
Dis walls—assuming his landlady's con- 
sent. Offering his second-class ticket to be 
punched by the ticket taker, he felt like 
Prometheus, with a gift of green fire. 
The punishment, he expected, would 
the guise of a crise de foie 
induced by the unhealthy French diet. 


BOND MARKET continued jrom paze 115) 


at this point, the owner of the Seaboard 
bond could conceivably scll for $1500. 
By a peculiar form of arithmetical al- 
chemy, a three-percentage-point increase 
in the general interest rate gives the 
bondholder (in this instance) a loss of 
$230, while a decrease of three points 
gives him a profit of $500. 

In capsule form, this is how all bonds 
work. Because they represent a fixed 
stream of income, their market value will 
fall when the general interest rate rises 
and rise when the interest rate falls. 
Thus, while all bonds are worth $1000 
on the day they're born and on the day 
they die, their market value wanders 
considerably in the interim. For the past 
25 years, the direction has been down- 
ward. Until carly this year, the cost of 
money had been rising steadily, so that 
the market value of virtually all bonds 
issued in the past 20 years declined to 
well below their $1000 face valuc. De- 
pending on which figures you read, you 
may have to go all the way back to the 
closing years of the 18th Century, when 
the U.S. was fighting an undeclared na- 
val war with France, to find comparably 
high interest rates—and comparably low 
bond prices. Top-grade corporate bonds 
are now yielding over nine percent and 
a few months ago paid as much as ten; 
ev Government bonds have been 
offering over eight percent. Older bonds. 
bearing the lower interest rates, gener- 
ally sell at the biggest discounts. On the 
other hand, the older a bond is, the 
closer it is to its maturity date; and as 
maturity draws near, а bond's m: 
price will begin to approach maturity 
value, so that on maturity day—when 
the bond is redeemed—the two prices 
are identical. But up to maturity, the 
basic rule still governs: Bond prices 
move inversely with the general interest 
rate, This concept is basic to ап under- 
standing of the bond market, yet many 
small investors have trouble grasping it. 

The investor who wants to understand 
bonds would do well to clear his mind of 
anything he might know about the stock 
market, because little of that knowledge 
will apply and much of it will confuse. 
Years ago, amateur investors thought 
that bonds were like stocks, only safer; 
more recently, the thinking was that 
bonds were like stocks, only squarer. 
Both comparisons mislead. 

Stocks pay dividends that rise and fall 
with the fortunes of the firms they repre- 
sent. Bonds pay interest, at a fixed and 
invariable rate. Stocks represent fract 
al ownership, so their market value flu 
tuates with the prospects of the firm 
owned. Bonds represent simple debt 
obligation; short of the issue 
unable to meet its payments (a 
currence), a bond's market value bears 
little relationship to the prosper 


a 


poverty of its issuer. Stocks, like the cor- 
porations they represent, are immortal, 
unless, of course, the company is caught 
up in a merger or goes out of business. 
Bonds have to be cashed in sooner or 
later. Because of the built-in maturity 
date, almost every bond in the country 
is sure to be worth $1000 (or whatever 
its maturity value might be) on some 
known day in the future. No stock can 
make that statement. 

The stock market is emphatically a 
market of individual valucs. Even in the 
stecpest crash, well-selected stocks will 
buck the trend, sometimes astonishingly. 
le listings on the New York Stock E 
change were recently losing a large per- 
centage of their value, one stock. Telex, 
increased 700 percent. Bonds just don't 
act that way. With very few exceptions, 
they move en masse, so that the bond 
buyer needn't be as choosy as his stock- 
market counterpart. While the stock spec- 
ulator has to cope with dozens or even 
hundreds of variables affecting each secur- 
ity he buys, the bond investor has to be 
right on only one bet—that the general 
interest rate will fall. Of course, he might 
also want to choose a bond backed by a firm. 
that scems likely to avoid bankruptcy; he 
might want to pick a bond that provides 

i ; and, if he plans to 


select a maturity date that best suits his 
personal needs. But within these broad 
strictures, there are hundreds of bonds 
that will suit him. All are essentially 
similar. And, assuming he is correct in his 


assessment of how the general interest 
rate will move, all will prove similarly 


rewarding. 
Like all Gaul, bonds are divided into 
three parts: Governments, municipals 


and corporates. Each of the three has its 
distinguishing features; but, as they are 
discussed in turn, bear in mind that 
bonds, again like all Gaul, share more 
similarities than differences There are 
three ways to make money in the bond 
market, though most bond investments 
will involve them in combination. 

The traditional route to bond profits 
is through income. Paying 51000 for a 
bond that yields ten percent a year 
will obviously result in an annual profit 
of $100. In these days of inflation and 
high taxes, many investors have come to 
regard income profits as suspect. The big 
money today is supposedly in growth, 
and growth is more likely to be found in 
the stock market. But growth is a relative 
term. When bonds were paying three 
percent a year, a computer study showed 
that stocks, on the avcrage, returned over 
nine percent. Surely, this was a pers 
sive case for buying stocks. But now that 
some bonds themselves are paying over 
nine percent, the superiority of a com- 
mon-stock investment—cven in the face 
of inflation—is less clear. A dominant 
theme in many Victorian novels is that 
ladies and gentlemen сап fare quite well, 
thank you, by keeping their money work- 
ing at nine or ten percent a усаг. In fact, 
ten percent is all that's needed to make a 
man wealthy in less than a lifetime; it 
turn $10,000 into $1,000,000 in just 
under five decades. The problem is that 


“But he’s buying.” 


191 


PLAYBOY 


192 


today's high interest rates will probably 
not persist—though it is possible to buy 
longterm bonds that guarantee present 
rates for several decades, Sad to say, this 
sort of interest profit, from all bonds сх 
cept municipals, is fully taxable; the 
bond investor adds it to his salary and 
his income tax on the lot. 

He can also profit from capital gains, 
which are the bond-market equivalent of 
stock growth. If the interest rate drops to 
six percent, his $1000 bond paying ten 
percent might bring as much as 51007 if 
he sells it. Capitalgains profits such as 
this are a lot more interesting than а 
fixed income, and they're even taxed ata 
more favorable rate: half the investor's 
regular incometax rate or 25 percent, 
whichever is less, (The new tax laws add 
a minor additional tax for high-bracket 
investors with capital gains over $50,000 
a year; but such people don't often get 
their tax advice from magazine articles, 
so we needn't worry too much about 
them.) 

The bond investor can also make 
what, for want of a better term, might be 
called speculative profits—by resorting to 


am, 


such tricks as buying bonds on borrowed 
money. Unlike stocks, bonds are regard- 
ed as gilt-edged collateral. No matter 
that bond prices have deteriorated for a 
generation while stock prices during the 
same period increased perhaps fourfold. 
Ranks, assuming they have the money, 
are still quite willing to lend up to 90 
percent of market value on bonds posted 
with them as security. (The maximum 
allowable loan on stocks is currently 35 
percent.) For the bond investor interest- 
ed in capital gains, this favorable loan 
advantage means he can get а nine-to-one 
Jever working for him. 

Of the three types of bonds, investors 
tend to know least about Government 
bonds, This is unfortunate, because they 
boast some interesting attractions. They 
are easy to buy, sell or borrow against; 
they pay surprisingly high returns; and. 
in some cases, they can be purchased 
directly from the Government without 
any brokerage fees. While fully subject to 
Federal income tax, the interest from. 


U.S. Government bonds is exempt from 


state and local income taxes. The rea- 
son most investors know so little about 


“I'm taking a sex survey. ... How about it?” 


Government bonds probably grows from 
unfavorable experiences with the one 
everyone knows: 


ariety almost U. 
savings bonds. Savings bonds аге small- 
denomination instruments with the size 
and feel of an IBM card, designed to lure 
money out of the pockets of small inves- 
tors and into the coffers of the Federal 
Treasury. They have virtually nothing 
in common with ordinary Government 
bonds. Savings bonds are registered in the 
owners name and are nonnegotiabl 
this mı 
the Tr 
thi 


ans they can only be sold back to 
ury. The Government promot 
a safety feature, which, in a way, 
is. But it's also a colossal liability, be- 
cause the bonds’ nonnegotiability means 
they cannot be posted as collateral against 
loan. Between the bank and the pawn- 
shop, anything of value can be borrowed 
against—except. savings bonds, In addi- 
Чоп to this drawback, they offer a lower 
return than any comparable investment. 
Not surprisingly, the Government loves 
to sell them, especially in times of infla- 
tion. (Savings bonds аге the only Gov- 
emment borrowing device that directly 
reduces individual purchasing power on 
a mass scale; thus, they are am ideal 
means of damping inflationary fires.) 
Unfortunately, when inflation is severe, 
the Government can become overenthu- 
sitstic. The current savingsbond cam- 
paign, built around the phrase “Take 
stock in Americ: monument to 
deceptive advertising. If a private bor- 
rower tried to изе those words to sell 
bonds, he would very quickly find hi 
self in court. There is nothing stocklike 
about a savings bond. In selling a low- 
yield, nonnegotiable debt instrument, 
the use of the word stock—wi 
cations of equity and growth—borders 
on fraud. 

To the extent th vestors have had 
firsthand experience with savings bonds, 
they would probably agree that they are 


is a 


poor investments. Inflation has seen to 
that. Of course, inflation hurts all fixed 
incomes and, thus, all bonds. But be- 
cause buyers of savings bonds have to hold 


on to them till maturity to receive the ad- 
vertised interest rate, inflation seems to 
hit them hardest. As an extreme exam- 
ple: $18.75 invested in a savings bond i 
1941 would have yielded 925 a decade 
later. But in 1951, that $25 had а pur- 
chasing power, in terms of 1941 dollars, 
of only $13.75. The net loss over ten 
long years was 27 percent—plus taxes 
owed on the $6.25 interest profit, if 
profit can be used in this context. The 
current return on savings bonds, up to five 
percent, compares almost as unfavorably 
with today's six-percent rate of inflation. 

A concomitant drawback was first 
brought to this wr wention by 
economist Eliot Janeway. Besides being 
uncannily correct in his bond market pre 
dictions over the past few years, Janeway 


has been one of the few financial advi- 
sors with the courage to speak loudly and 
publicly against savings bonds. He points 
out that virtually all savingsbond inves- 
tors pay taxes on their interest not as 
it accrues, which is every year, but in 
one lump sum, when the bonds are fin: 
ly cashed in, In this case, increasing 
affluence and the graduated income tax 


conspire to penalize the investor even 
further. He is forced to pay taxes on his 
savings-bond interest at his current tax 
rate, which, especially for a young inves- 
tor, is probably the highest he's ever 
paid in his life and is almost certainly 
higher than the rate to which he was 
subject when the bulk of the interest was 
actually earned. As J puts it: 
“The Treasury is getting а double wind- 
fall on savings bonds—chiseling on the 
interest rate it pays and cleaning up on 
the tax rate it collects.” 

As usual, the people most victimized 
by savings bonds are those who can least 
When a rich man buys them, 
you cin be sure he’s not doing it to get 
richer. He might be currying tax favors, 
setting himself up for an Administration 
appointment or heading a local bond- 
buying drive that will presumably trickle 
down to the gras roots. But down 
among the grass roots are millions of 
Americans who can't afford to be so 
charitable, These people might plunk 


aneway 


afford it 


down a hard-earned $18. à significant 
fraction of the average weekly pay check 
n belief that they are 
ying some kind of stock certificate that 
will grow as fast as the U. S. Government. 
Sooner or later, they'll probably get back 
less value than they gave and still owe 
taxes on the difference. It's enough to 
make а buyer suspect not only the bonds 
but the integrity of the issuer. 

All the deceptive transit ads and the 
free newspaper space could be liberated 
for more constructive purposes if the 
Government would simply approach 
amateur investors the same way it а 
proaches the pros: offering an interest 
competitive with the prevailing cost of 
money. Because sophisticated investors, 
by and large, don't buy savings bonds, 
the Government does have to pay the 
going rate for most of its borrowings, 
which are represented by Government 
bonds. The most difficult barrier here is 
nomenclature. The three types of Gov- 
ernment bonds are distinguishable only 
by their maturities. Treasury bills (some 
times called certifi 
the shortest maturities: no more than one 
year. Treasury notes are bonds issued 
with maturities varying from one to sev- 
en year. Bonds with maturities over 
seven years are called what they all 
should be called: Treasury bonds. The 
perplexing terminology grows [rom a 


tes) are. bonds with 


Congressional edict forbidding any Gov- 
ernment bonds (except stvings bonds) 
from paying over 414 percent interest. No 
such restrictions apply to notes, so, in good 
Orwellian tradition, the Treasury has 
simply declared that any bond maturing 
in less than seven years isn't a bond at 
all but a note. Unfortunately, even new- 
speak can't solve all the Treasury's prob- 


lems. Maturities over seven years are out 
of the question, because these would be 
bonds and the 414 percent maximum 
n't been competitive since 1967. Notes 
are a possibility, but the Treasury is 
tremely reluctant to issue them, presum- 


ably because the high interest rate necded 
to sell them would constitute a tacit ad. 
mission that costly money (and inflation) 
will be with us for years. 

The confusing result is that the Treas- 
ury, probably against its better instincts, 
has been forced by the battle against 
inflation to raise its cash in the short- 
term money market, by selling Treasury 
bills. This can be an expensive way to raise 
money. In the good old days, when the 
Treasury's main customers were big busi 
nesses that gobbled up Treasury bills in 
$1,000,000 lots. at least the paperwork 
was minimal. But early this year, when 
a large portion of T-bill offerings was 
being picked up by small investors at 
51000 а shot, the Treasury was suddenly 
faced with a backoffice bookkeeping 


ERIK THE RED 
S HERE! 


WITH A NEW 
BURGUNDY AROMA. 


"^ А mellow new taste and aroma; 

a rich new smoking satisfaction in a 

filter tip cigar. In the bold size of Scandinavian 
descent. New Erik Burgundy. Spirited companion 
to famous Erik Regular and Erik Menthol 


©1970 Larillard: 


PLAYBOY 


problem. Incredibly, the Treasury was 
pending more to process a $1000 T bill 
than a $1,000,000 one; and T-men esti- 
mated that the additional clerical ex- 
pense attributable to small-inyestor bill 
ng rocketed the Government's actual 
ing cost from 8 to 16 percent. 

As usual, the cure was worse than the 
disease. In late February, the Treasury 
са its lowest-denomination bill from 
$1000 to $10,000, At that point, the 
United States Government found itself 
in the morally dificult position of 
offering a risk-free cight-percent return 
to relatively wealthy investors, with the 
less affluent being pushed into savings 
bonds, much less liquid and paying half 
the T-bill interest rate. This was really an 
astonishing move, one of those policy de- 
cisions that no amount of efficiency expla- 
nation can rationalize away. If justice is 
to be served, the poor should get the bar- 
gains, as the rich have a long and glorious 
tradition of getting by on their owi 

The new Treasury policy provoked 
such a storm of protest from so many 
quarters that it may have been repealed 
by the time these words are read. (In 
early May, the Treasury did offer a series 
of notes, maturing in 18 months. paying 
779 percent interest and available in 
51000 denominations.) But even if the 
$10,000 minimum persists, T bills are 
still an attractive purchase for anyone 
blessed with ten Gs—or with friends who 
might want to join him in raising that 
sum. Treasury bills currently offer just 
bout the highest returns of all Govern- 
ment bonds and they are the only ones 
that lual investors can purchase 
without going through a middleman and 
paying the appropriate fees. 

The prospective purchaser has his 
choice of four maturities: three months, si 
months, nine months and twelve months. 
All T bills are bearer obligations: The 
only names on them are those of Unde 
am and the issuing Federal Reserve 
nk. As with currency, whoever has the 
bill in his pocket is assumed to be th 
rightful owner, so the buyer of T bills 
will obviously want to not to 
lose them. A safe-deposit box is the usual 
precaution and the expense is tax de- 
ductible. Being bearer bonds, T bills 
make fine collateral; in fact, they are just 
about as negotiable as cash, with the 
important distinction that they bear in- 
terest. As with all bonds, the interest rate 
on T bills is fixed for life, with the rate 
on new ones set at issuance according to 
the vagaries of the money market. Ear- 
lier this year, the yield on three-month T 
bills crept over eight percent; but more 
recently, it dropped back below seven. 

The standard method of quoting 
Treasury-bill returns understates their 
yield. Like savings bonds, T bills are 
sold at a discount and redeemed at face 
value. A. scven-percent, $10,000, one-year 


indi 


194 Treasury bill will cost its purchaser 


$9300 and a year later will be worth 
510,000. "The 5700 interest represents sev- 
en percent of 510,000; but, in the inves- 
tors terms, the yield is actually higher 
—in this case, around 714 percent—since 
he's really investing only $9300. "The hud- 
dled masses who queued up to purchase 
Treasury bills in person presumably 
were unaware that the bills could be 
e elfortlessly through the 
All that’s needed is a certified 
personal check (or a cashier’s check) in 
whatever multiple of $10,000 the inves- 
tor chooses, made out to thc nearest 
Federal Reserve Bank, which he can lo- 
cate by examining the folding money in. 
his wallet. After the discount rate is 
established, the bank refunds whatever 
excess was paid when it sends the inves- 
tor his certificate. (T bills im virtually 
any maturity can also be purchased 
through a banker or a broker, but this 
involves extra fees.) 

‘The three- and six-month bills аге sold 
every Monday at 1:30 rw, E. S.T., si- 
multancously at all 12 Federal Reserve 
Banks. The nine and twelve-month bills 
are sold only once a month; the date 
varies, but the same procedures apply. 
Most individual purchasers seem to pre- 
fer the three-month bills. These give 
maximum flexibility (after all, they turn 
into cash every 91 days) and permit the 
purchaser to keep rolling them over. Once 
he gets going, he can send a matured bill 
instead of a check, receiving in tum, a 
new bill plus the bank's check for the 
discount difference. For investors who are 


unwilling or unable to meet the $10,000 


least one organization has 
begun pooling T-bill purchases as small 
as 51000, for fees no higher than $5 per 
$1000. Details are available from the 
American Board of Trade, 286 Filth Ave- 
nue, New York, New York 10001 

One precaution: Shortterm debt in- 
struments, be they Tr 
of the other notes that can be pure 
through a banker or a broker, are not a 
long-term investment medium. This writ- 
er is always reluctant to foretell the 
future, but sure as sunrise, T bills and 
other short-term paper will not yield 
y's high interest rates forever. Sooner 
or later, they will drop back to five, four 
or even three percent; and at that point, 
they will be no more attractive (and 
considerably less convenient) than an 
ordinary passbook savings account. Short- 
term instruments such as Tre 
are simply a temporary shelter wherein 
the investor can sit on ready cash and 
knock down a decent interest rate until 
the storm dears in stocks, bonds or what- 
ever other investment medium he might 
be drawn to. 

He might be drawn to Treasury 
bonds or notes—the ones that mature in. 
more than a year. As already mentioned, 
they do exist and most are available in 


min 


$1000 denominations. But since the Gov- 
ernment hasn't sold many to the public 
in recent years, the usual way to purchase 
them is through a private dealer. The 
market for seasoned Government bonds 
—which is what these older issues are 
called—is similar to that for over-the- 
counter stocks. Individual dealers m 
the market and their profit usually comes 
from the spread between their buying 
price and their selling price. Since they 
don’t like to truck with the public, the 
prospective buyer usually has to go 
through a stockbroker or a banker—and 
pay a fee. The going rate for a single 
bond purchase is $20, no matter what 
the price, but the investor ought to shop 
around, because the figure can vary wild- 
ly from one institution to another, On 
large transactions, the commissions di- 
minish to one fourth of one percent. 

As with most bonds, each Government 
bond or note is available im cither 
bearer or registered form. Bearer bonds, 
like Treasury bills, don't have the owner's 
name on them. But, unlike Treasury 
bills, they pay semi-annual interest. Each 
bond will have one or more coupon 
sheets attached to it and, every six 
months, the owner clips off a coupon 
and deposits it at his bank, just like a 
check. Registered bonds, like savings 
bonds, have the owner's name on them. 
Here, there are no coupons to clip; in- 
terest arrives through the mail. Either 
way, its paid twice a year. Since most 
bond transactions won't be made on the 
precise day on which interest is due, the 
new buyer must pay the seller his prope 
share of the accrued interest; this is 
automatically added to the sale price. 

A preference for bearer or registered 
bonds is largely personal. Bearer bonds 
are marginally more negotiable; juice 
men, bookies and even pushers have 
been known to accept them. But they are 
also riskier and, because of the coupons 
attached, more of a nuisance. Banks and 
trust funds strongly prefer the conven- 
jence of registered bonds: There’s 
record keeping, the certificates are much 
easier to stack and they don't have to be. 
shuflled through and dipped periodic 
The big buyer of bonds might share 
this preference, but the small purchaser 
has more important things to worry 
about. However, he would be wise to 
his certificates, whatever their 
be issued and delivered to him. 
Brokers offer to provide safekeeping for 
customers’ securities, but their offices are 
so disorganized these days that the safety 
factor is debatable. 

Governmentbond prices are quoted 
daily in The Wall Street Journal and in 
the financial pages of most other major 
newspapers. (The best source of Gov 
ment-bond information—in fact, the best 
source of facts on most aspects of the 
bond market—is The Weekly Bond Ви; 
er, published every Monday at 67 Pearl 


no 


"Her? Oh, she warms up the relief pitcher." 


PLAYBOY 


196 


Street, New York, New York 10004. At 
590 а year, it can hardly be called a bar- 
gain, but for serious investors, it's prob- 
bly worth the expense; for big-timers, 
there's even a daily edition.) Current- 
ly, about 50 different. Government-bond 
series are available, with maturities rang- 
ing from 1970 to 1998. Prices ате quot- 
ed per 5100 lace value, суеп though 
there's no such beast as а $100 Treasury 
bond. The reader has to multiply by ten 


to produce the real-life figure. Worse, 
quotes аге dollars and 32nds of a dol- 
lar. In other words, 67.16 means 67%4 


which really means 6714, which really 
means $675. This system supposedly 
saves newspaper ink. 

Gove: 
coupon 


€ identified by 
rate and maturity date: 4s 
74 describes the 41j-percent bonds ma- 
turing in 1974, as distinguished from the 
Aig percent bonds or the 375 percent 
bonds that come due that same year. A 
hyphe as 3148 88-78, 
describes 314-percent bonds that 
ture in 1983 but are callable as сапу as 
1978. This just means that if the Govern- 
ment cares to, it cin redeem the bonds 
carly (call them in)—an unlikely possi 
bility nowadays, since this would have the 
Treasury borrowing money at over seven 
percent to retire s of bonds paying 
than half Governmentbond 


ated date, such 


ma- 


1 se 
that. 


less 


quotations are usually ied by a 
percentage figure that deseribes the 
bond's yield to maturity, a computation 
reflecting the fact, already noted, that а 
bond selling for less than its $1000 
value will not only bear interest but will 
also give the owner a capi 
if he holds it until it matures. / 
quotation for the Governments four- 
percent bonds of August 1972, Гог in- 
stance, showed them selling ar 93.10 
bout $933 apiece—with a vield-to- 
maturity figure of 7.88 percent. This ind 
cates that the Slü-iyear interest until 
August 1972, plus the $67 profit when the 
bond pays off, would equal а net return 
of 7.88 percent a year on the $933 invest- 
ed. Yield-to-maturity figures are а conven- 
ient means of comparing bond values, but 
they are mildly misleading because they 
combi terest profit and capital-gains 
profic without reflecting the different tax 
consequ ch. A deep-discount 
ng the equivalent ight 
percent to maturity is obviously a better 
buy, in tax terms, than a bond selling at 
lesser discount but offering the same 
equivalent yield. In the case of the dis 
count bond. much of the investors ulti- 
mate profit will be taxable at the mor 
favorable capital-gains rate. 

Would-be suicides might take note of 
the fact thar many Government bonds are 


i 


bond ol c 


“This color goes very well with your panties!" 


ї face value in payment of 
ome of these “flower 
tly available for $700 
per $1000 bond. which means the wily 
decedent can pluck а posthumous profit 
of around 40 percent if he plays his 
hand properly. Not worth dying for. 
presumably, but something to think 
about when advising а dowager аши. 
Bonds issued by the U. 
— including or bonds. 


re cur 


мез, Treas 
ury bills and even savings. bonds—are 
properly regarded as the safest of all 
investments, since it's the Government 
that pays both interest and principal 
whenever they are due—and. you'll recall, 
the Government prints the money. 
Most of the safety of Government 
bonds, plus slightly higher returns, is 
available in w nown as Covern 
mentagency bonds. These are issued by 
the dozen or so organizations—such as 
the Federal Home Loan Banks or the 
ional Mortgage Association 
ах are somehow related to the Feder- 
- Much discussion centers 
around whether the Government would 
bail out bondholders if any of these 
quasi-official bodies were to default on 
their I. O. Us. During the Depression, 
when so farm 


many mort were 
forced into [o ry did. 
step in to help the d Banks. 
Presumably, it would do so again. But 
because the Government doesn’t have to, 
bonds issued by these organizations pay a 
slightly higher return. (perhaps one-half 
percent more) than their cousins issued 
by the Treasury. As with Government 
bonds, the interest on agency securities 
is exempt from state and local income 
taxes 


In terms of rax exemption, nothing 
heats municipal bonds. These are issued 
by local governments, The name implic 
only cities, but states, villages, mosq 
abatement districts or any non-Federal 
governing unit can use them. They offer 
lower returns than Government bonds— 
the current rate is around seven percent — 
but they provide a unique appeal: Th 
interest they pay is totally exempt from 
Federal income tax. 
lives in the state where the bond was 
issued, the interest is also exempt from 
state income tax. And, for some unfath- 
omable reason, municipal bonds issued in 
Alaska and Накай before they became 
states are exempt from all income taxes 
state and local—no matter who 
т. The speculative pote 
municipal bonds is somewhat circum- 
scribed, because there's no tax advantage 
to purchasing them on borrowed money. 
The Internal Revenue Service, with r 
sonable justification, feels that individuals 
shouldn't be allowed to deduct interest 
costs on loans financing the purchase of 
а tax-free income. 

Obviously, the attractiveness of this 


1 the bondholder 


—Federa 


owns th 


sort of income increases with one's tax 
bracket. For the man who pays only 15 
or 20 cents in taxes on cach 
dollar he makes, ta ncome has 
tle value: but when he begins giving up 
50 or even 60 cents on the dollar, then 
the prospect of tax-free money becomes 
more alluring. Yet all t glitters isn’t 
gold—perhaps for the best, since gold 
ownership is illegal for Americans. Mu- 
nicipal bonds are fraught with difficulties 
that aren’t encountered in other bonds. 
First, while most municipal bonds offer 
similar interest rates, the 
wildering array of them, in varying de- 
nom ions and maturities, that it's often 
difficult for buyers and sellers to get to- 
gether. Municipal-bond prices are not 
quoted in any of the financial papers, be- 
cause if sucli quotes were published, there 
would be no room for anything else. At 
last count, 92,000 government units had 
municipal bonds outstanding. Typically, 
each series of bonds might have from 10 
to 30 maturity dates, so that if municipal- 
bond prices were quoted like those of 
stocks, there would be something in the 
order of 9,000,000 items to account for. 
The real reason municipal bonds aren't 
quoted is not their vast number but 
the fact that the bonds themselves seldom 
come to market. Investors tend to buy 
them as they ar icd and hold them 
until maturity. Those that do come to 
e handled like seasoned Gov- 
ernment bonds, by private dealers who 
their profit the same way grocers 
do: selling at a higher price than they've 
aid. As with the grocery store, the profit 


1. One of the current problems 
with municipal bonds is that prices have 
been plummeting so drastically that few 
dealers are willing to sit on big invento- 
n this sort of environment, munici- 
1 bonds begin to resemble exotic pets: 
зу to buy but difficult to sell. However 
when the general interest rate begins to 
fall, dealers will stand to profit from their 
inventory; they'll be more willing to 
expand and, therefore, more wil 
bu 

The municipal bonds that dealers offer 
to buy or sell are listed and priced da 
in a thick azure document called the 
blue list. Stockbrokers usually have access 
10 а copy and it is through a stockbroker 
the small Шу purchases 
municipal bonds. ‘The typical broki 
fee is 55 to 520 per $1000 bond, regard- 
less of the price the bond is selling for; 
‚ the rates diminish on larger 
purchases. "The broker contacts the ap- 
propriate dealer and buys at the dealer's 
asking price. The same procedure. and 
fee apply for sales, except that these 
are made at the dealer's buying price, 
which (on small transactions such as this) 
ht be five percent lower. While vir- 
tually all municipal bonds exist 1000. 
increments, such certificates arc. difficult 


as us 


“Well, that’s great! Now what? 
It so happens Pm a virgin, too.” 


to buy or sell individually; $5000 denom- 
inations arc more common and $10,000, 
or even $25,000, the preferred unit. 
Most brokers who are concerned with 
more than just getting their commissions 
will rightly айу urchases unde 
$10,000 a shot are a ke. 

The perfect investor in municipal 
bonds would be someone like Mrs. Hor- 


lion dollars a year and libera 
from the annoyance of havi 
а tax form every spring. The new tax 
Jaws hi slightly diminished the attrac 
tiveness of such an investment for the 
select few who might be able to afford 
(today, you have to fill out the forms), 
but the point is the same: It usually 
takes an enormous fortune to justify an 
investment in municipal bonds; A youth- 
ful investor, cven if he has this kind of 
money, would probably want to do some 
thing more exciting with it. 

He might investigate corporate bonds. 
These are issued by established (some- 
limes not so established) companies to 
finance new plants and equipment, Lik 
butterflies, corporate bonds have been 
classified into all sorts of confusing sub- 
categories; but from the investor’s point 
of view, there are only two types: 
straight bonds and convertible bond: 
With а few important distinction: 
straight bonds are similar to Govern- 
ments or ipals: They pay semi- 
annual interest to maturity, whereupon 
the owner retrieves the principal. Con- 
vertible bonds have all the same features, 
with one important extra: They cin be 
exchanged, at any time the bondholder 
wishes, for a fixed number of shares of 
the issuing company’s common stock. 

Straight corporate bonds offer most of 


muni 


the advantages of long-term Government 
bonds and generally attract the same sort 
of clientele, Because no corporation is 
deemed as creditworthy as the Federal 
Government, corporate bonds generally 
pay a slightly higher return—usually onc- 
half to two percent higher—than compa- 
rable Government bonds. Thismakesthem 
that much better an investment for in- 
come seekers who are willing to assume 
the concomitant risks, which are slight. 
Obviously. some corpoi 
than others, and these have to pay more 
to borrow money. Two New York firms 
make a living grading corporate bonds 
(municipals, too) in accordance with the 
worthiness of the issucr, Like 
grades in a college for draft dodgers, 
the ratings range from triple A to С; all 
the ratings are highly conservative and 
much more useful to bond issuers than 
to investors. Most brokerage houses sub- 
scribe to опе or both rating services, so 
the grades are available to anyone who 
cares to seek them out, 


Corporate bonds are bought and sold 
just like common stocks, through а bro- 
Кет. The legal minimum commission is 
$2.50 per $1000 bond and the di 


igent 
estor might still be able to find a firm 
willing to do business at that low ra 
(А comp transaction in stocks 
might cost 520-510) But just as hospit 

fees rise during an epidemic, so have 
brokerage costs risen with public part 
pation in the bond market. No broker- 
age house has to charge the minimum 
and, despite the lip service they like to 


pay to the cause of people's capitalism, 


brokers seem ever less willing to do bu: 
ness with small investors on the 
terms they offer big ones. Typical fees on 
small transactions now range from five 
dollars to ten dollars per bond. 

The biggest problem facing the inc 
who's interested in corporate 


me 


197 


PLAYBOY 


198 № 


bonds is not the fee he has to рау (cven 
ten dollars per bond is only one per- 
cent) but the arm twisting and argu- 
ments he has to endure before he can 
convince his broker to accept an order. 
Most brokers loathe bonds. The bond 
experience of many is confined to the 
knowledge that the sales commi i 
tiny. Worse, bond investing tends to dis 
courage the inand-out trading that used 
to send stockbrokers to Europe every 
summer. When a customer buys а deep- 
discount corporate bond, selling at $640 
and yielding the equivalent of nine per- 
cent until it matures 20 years liter, 
chances are that he'll hold it until ma- 
turity. Alter all. his profit is guaranteed. 
Had he sunk the same money into stocks, 
he would surely trade more frequently, 
probably generating a minor jet stream 
of sales commissions in the process. As 
one brokerage-house official lamented 
candidly in The Wall Street. Journal: 
“Bonds tend to tic up the customers’ 
money.” 

Many bonds permit the issuing corpo- 
ration to redeem them early, for а price 
slightly higher than the maturity value. 
As noted earlier, this call privilege is 
dly a privilege, as long as the general 
interest rate remains higher than the rate 
g when the bond was issued. In 
when the interest rate was morc 
stable, the call privilege 


we the borrow- 


er an clement of protection, If the inter- 
est rate were to decline significantly. he 
could call in his bonds and issue new 
ones at a lower rate, But at today's 
high rates, any drastic decline in inter- 
est coss would mean huge profits for 
stors who have purchased discounted. 
The prospect of having their 
prices much higher 
than they paid shouldn't prove too dis 
g- Bonds issued prior to the early 
1960s are generally more likely to have 
less desirable call provisions than bonds 
sued. since then, but these older bonds 
generally the ones selling at the 
greatest discounts, because they were is 
sued when low. The 
net effect is that the who buys 
bonds for less than th ce value 
shouldn't be overly concerned about call 
provisions. Only when the interest rate 
drops back substantially, to a point 
at which he might find himself: buying 
bonds at or above their face value, 
should he be more careful, lest he find 
himself paying $1100 for a bond that the 
1000. Newspa 
per bond quotations provide no informa- 
tion the callability of corporate 
bonds, so the best source is a brokerage- 
house reference library or one of the two 
ating services previously mentioned. 
"wspaper quotations of corporate 
bonds generally leave a lot to be desired. 
Fewer than 1000 of the great multitude 
of corporate bonds arc traded on the big 
York excl з are 


bonds. 


terest rates wei 


nges and only the 


quoted daily 
cal quotation, from a recent issu 
Wall Street Journa 


the press. Here's a typi 
of The 


46 562 56 5 


6734 54 Am TET 278687 


"The format and symbology аге simi 
those for stock. quotations, and the 
aginative reader ought to be able to 
deduce that this bond was issued by 
American Telephone and Telegraph, 
that it pays interest тие of 2% 
percent per 51000 bond and that it ma- 
tures in 1987. As usual, the price figures 
have to be multiplied by ten before they 
make sense. The two figures before the 
name represent the high and low prices 
for the year—in this case, 3073.75 and 
$540. The 46 alter the maturity date is 
the number of bonds (in $1000 units) 
sold that day. The next three figures are 
the day's high price ($568.75), low price 
(5900) and closing price (also $560). 
"Ehe final faction is the change from the 
previous dosing price, showing, in this 
case, that the bonds lost $25 each, which 
is quite a lot for any bond to give up in 
one day. The interest-rate figure of 2% 
percent doesn't sound like much. It 
means that the bond returns $28.75 a 
year; and investors who arc mathemati 
cally inclined can compute that, since 
the bond could bc purchased for just 
$560, the return, in the purchaser's 
terms, would be around 5.12 percent. 
This, of course, doesn’t include the $440 
profit the investor is sure to make if he 
holds the bond the 17 years to maturity. 
The 5440 spread evenly over 17 years 
means an extra 520 annually. Added to 
the $28.75 interest, this gives an annual 
return of $54.75, which means this bond 
is actually offering 9.9 percent a year, a 
respectable return by almost anyone's 
standards. 

On the day the telephone bond just 
mentioned was selling to yield 9.9 per- 
st other comparable bonds were 
ng less than 9 percent. An interest- 
aspect of the listed bond market is 
that the sharp-eyed reader of the finan- 
[ he is blessed with a calculat- 
e or a penchant for long 
ion, can often discover solid, high- 
ed bonds yielding perhaps a full per- 
centage point above the preva 


ing 
div 


If his broker is quick enough, he n 
of а sort 


then buy an authentic bargai 
that is 
ket. Bernard Baruch owed much of his 
carly fortune to a sharp eye for such 
price disparities. They exist because the 
isted market for bonds is gossamer thin. 
A day's turnover in а typical bond on 
New York Stock Fxchange might 
involve 10, 20 or perhaps 35 $1000 
units. Institutions still dominate the 
bond market and, in institutional terms, 
35 bonds is an insignificant number. You 
сап bet your life insurance that Pruden- 
tial (or any other big bond buyer) is noc 
put to dump 5000 bonds into a m: 
that can. handle 35 


re conducted through big, 
bond dealers—the same ones 
who handle munici| nd Government 
bonds. Surprisingly enough. many small- 
'estor transactions are handled this 
way, too, because a good broker will 
know where the bargains are and often 
he can get a better price by avoiding the 
exchanges. This works well for the inves- 
tor, but it makes the listed bond market 
somewhat mythical. Sure, the newspaper 
quotations represent real transaction: 
but real transactions made at time 
when the same bond might have bee: 
selling elsewhere for $20 higher or lower 
than the listed price. 

The one breed of corporate bonds that 
les widely and well on the New York 
changes is the convertible bond. As 
noted, convertible bonds pay fixed inter- 
est to maturity, just like straight bonds; 
but they can also be exchanged, at the 
holder's option, for a predetermined num- 
ber of shares of the issuing company's 
common stock. This means that "con- 
verts” (veterans accent the second syllable) 
can act like stocks as well as like bonds. 

The use of convertible bonds as a 
corporate money-raising device increased 
twentyfold during the 1960s. At the begi 
ning of the decade, converts were b 
issued at a rate of only a few hundred 
million dollars а year, and some of thi 
privately placed (sold direct to 


tr 


жа 


1969, convertibles were app 
tunc of five billion dollars a year and the 
was very definitely involved. Cor- 
ions like to issue convertible bonds, 
because investors like to buy them—so 
much so that they're usually willing to 
Пе for а lower interest rate (perhaps 
one or even two percent lower, depend- 
ing on the specifics of the deal) in 
return. for the conversion. privilege and. 
the vision of limitless riches that usually 
accompanies it. So far, the corporations 
have got the beuer of the di om 
their point of view, convertible bonds 
are a cheap way of selling stock at high 
prices without hur yone’s feelings. 
А corporation might sell $50.000,000. 
worth of convertible bonds and, as long 
as its stock keeps rising, investors will 
gradually exchange the converts for 
stock. When th maturity date finally 
rolls around, all the bonds will have 
been converted and, presto, the corpo 
tion won't have to repay the $50,000,000. 
More typically, when a company's com- 
mon stock has risen an extent 
that its convertible bonds are selling far 
above maturity value, it will call the 
n effect forcing the bondholders 
shares, In 
case, the net result is simply that 
the company has sold more stock, there- 
by diluting the holdings of the prebond 
stockholders. 

assumes that stock р 


to such 


ices are 


£ 
ny 


Ch б. 
iv Drown 


“Yes, ma'am, I am fighting over you. But don't 
misunderstand, I just love іо fight!" 


199 


PLAYBOY 


, For anyone who hasn't noticed. 
they have been dropping lately, and so 
(with a handful of exceptions) have 
convertible bonds. In the past two years, 
the speculati satu- 
rating bath 
ket, mostly from buying converts on the 
assumption that they are just like stocks, 
only safer. The logic goes something like 
this: If the value of the related common 
stock were to rise, then the bond, being 
convertible into a fixed number of com- 
mon shares, would rise, too. If the value 
of the underlying common were to fall, 
hen the value of the convertible bond 
would stay the same—or at least пог fall 
s much—because the convertible bond 
also pays fixed interest, which means it 
has value as a straight bond. Convertible 
bonds, as a popular observation had it, 
re like stocks, with a theoretical floor 
underneath them. But safety in the bond 
relative term. When stock 
prices and bond prices began falling 
imultancously, that theoretical floor 
looked like an open elevator shaft. 
Losses of 30 or even 40 percent in less 
than a year were all too typical. 

An of the cics 
of converts i hieved through a 
real-life exa imple. In the summer of 1967, 
RGA sold 5160.000.000 worth of conv 
ible bonds, yielding 415 percent interest 
nd maturing in 1992. When the bonds 
were first sold, the | ng interest 
rate was somewhat over 5 percent, but 
КСА got by with 414; investors were 
willing to accept a lower return in ex- 
change for the conversion privilege, In 


underst iniri 


this case, h $1000 bond be ex- 
changed, at the bondholder's option, for 


mon stock. RCA 
then selling for around $52 
ion wasn't profitable 


a long way off 
and, since stocks were rising. buyers val- 
ued the conversion. factor considerably. 
nism seemed 
ied. RCA stock rose and so did the 
market value of the convertible bonds. 
For each dollar increase in the common, 
the bond, representing 17 sh: тозе 
517. Just а few months after it was 
issued, the bond was selling for $1233. 
But that was as high as it got. Inves- 
n to realize that inflation is as 
ies (and thus for stocks) 
as it is for people, The stock market— 
RCA included—entered a long decline. 
Inflation also worked on the bond mar- 
ket. Interest rates rose, so bonds de- 
clined, too. As these words are written, 
RCA common is selling for $20 a share 
and RCA converts for around $630. Any- 
one who bought in at the peak price of 
$1239 is now out almost 50 percent of his 
ment and has good reason to ques- 
tion th греху of that thcorctical 
floor 
The debacle may 
have been abetted by an obsolete cliché: 
that bonds and stocks tend 10 move in 
opposite directions. In the Twenties and 
Thirties, this was certainly true: When 
stocks were going up, bonds were falli 
and vice ver nto the Fort 
knowledgeable with a well- 
developed sense of timi d this simple 
rule of thumb as a painless and elegant 
means of making money. But, like many 


inves 


convertible-bond 


investors: 


gu: 


devices, it became obsolete during World 
War Two. Since then, stocks and bonds 
have sometimes moved in concert and 
sometimes at odds, but they have always 
declined together. Every major bond- 
market decline in the past 25 years has 
been accompanied by an equally major 
selloff in stocks. Convertible bonds par- 
take of the more volatile elements. of 
both stocks and bonds, so investors 
shouldn't be surprised that converts can 
fall as quickly as they can rise. Econo- 
s and market analysts these 5 
don't agree on very much. but theres 
surprising unanimity in the belief that 
the stock market won't rise significantly 
until inflation is brought under control 
d the interest rate begins to fall 
Whenever that happens, bond prices will 
already be rising—and convertible-bond 
prices, representing the worst and the 
best of both worlds, might rise even 
faster. Obviously, the best timc to bu 
converts is when all hope has been aban 
doned and both stocks and bonds are 
selling at their lows. This time, if it’s not 
already at hand. it can't be too far off. As 
long as the convert is selling at its 
suaight-bond. value, the risk is no more 
п that entailed in an ordinary bond 


Almost 1000 corpo 
rations—from АМК to Zapata Norness 
—have convertible bonds (or their close 
cousins, convertible preferred stock) out- 
standing; and, with stock prices as low as 
they are at presstime, a surprising num- 
ber are selling close to their value as 
straight bonds. (Younger, lessseasoned 
companies—at least а few of which will 
surely take off when the stock market 
recovers—are more likely to issue con 
vertible bonds t ight ones, be- 
cause it's easier [or them to raise money 
that way) Details оп all convertible 
bonds, including estimates of straight- 
bond value and computations of how 
much each would be worth if converted 
into common stock, are published month- 
ly in Moody's Bond Survey. which can 
usually be found within maroon loose 
leaf binders on a stockbroker's bookshelf. 
From this information, the interested 
investor might want to evolve a check 
list of converts selling at or close to 
ight-bond value, and then determine 
which of these offer the most attractive 
common stock and which are closest to 
lue. (The nearer 


stra 


а convert. 
sooncr will 


it rise in symp: 
stock.) 

It should be obvious by now that 
bonds can fulfill different goals for dif 
Convertible bonds, when 
selling at their conversion value, are 
as risky and potentially as rewarding as 
any common stock—even more so 
purchased on full margin. Converts sell- 
ing n ght bond value are а 


hy with its underl: 


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sound as a regular bond investment, 
with the added possibility of distant 
profit if the underlying stock should re- 
vive. Straight bonds themselves, with 
their current high yields, offer guaran 
teed returns unparalleled in anyone's 
memory, plus the prospect of handsome 
capital gains whenever interest rates re 
turn to lower levels. When bonds arc 
offering cight, nine or even ten percent 
—retums that compare favorably with 
the average performance of common 
stocks over the past 44 years—they are 
certainly no longer the sole province of 
widows, orphans or insurance compan: 
Bonds should be part of the роо! 
every investor, even the gutsiest. 

the bonds that appear to be 
liest are probably the most inter- 
esting for the nervy bond speculator who 
is willing to assume large risks for the 
prospect of proportionately large profits. 
The borrowed moncy leveraging tech- 
nique, already mentioned briefly. works 
only for straight bonds: corporates, Gov. 
ernments and the higher-paying Govern- 
mentagency bonds. Here, the investor 
gets no tax preferences and no converti- 
bility, just the chance to make (or lose) 
a real pile. During the current tight- 
money seizure, the necessary cash is dif- 
ficult to come by, but this is actually а 
disguised blessing. The money will be- 
come lable when the interest rate 
starts going down and, at this point, bond 
prices will be rising—just what the 
speculator wants. 
Rather hypothe 


of 


cally, here's how the 
aging transaction would work. With 
the gene: rate heading down 
ward, a speculator with $5000 concludes 
the cost of money will go lower vet. 
which means bond prices will r His 
first step is to set up a credit line with a 
bank willing to accept bonds against a 
collateral loan. Most banks will oblige, 
but the speculator would do well to shop 
around for the best rate. His first instinct 
—to approach а tried- 
ker—ought to be repressed. Like con- 
ioneers, banks do things out of town 
that they'd. never dare at home. To re- 
duce lending rates at home would mean 
riminating among favored customers. 
Bette uniform high rate at 
home nd idle funds at a 
discount to trustworthy st 
peculiar result is that Manhai 
often find better loan accommodations 
in Los Angeles, while at the same 
Angelenos are discovering they hav 
friend at the Chase. Interestingly enough, 
the best out-of-town banking connections 
nowadays are rural banks; they have more 
money to lend than their city cousins. 
Assume that our speculator finds а 
k willing to lend him $45,000, at 
e percent a year, against $50,000 
bonds posted as collateral. Here, the 
bank is financing 90 percent of the trans- 
action; even 95 percent would not be 


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"I got her on a picnic once. I thought 
she was the most passionate girl in the world, then I 
realized we were lying on an anthill." 


unusual for Government bonds. His 
credit line secured, the speculator pur- 
chases $50,000 worth of cight-percent 
bonds. Commissions on a transaction this 
size would be 
depending on the number of bonds 
volved. The specula s his broker 
55000 (plus commissions) and the bank 
pays the remaining $45,000 when the 
brokerage house delivers the certificates. 
In effect, the speculator has bought all 
the action from $50,000 worth of bonds 
for a little over $5000. The interest cost 
on the collateral loan will amount to 
$4050 a year, but the bonds themselves 
pay eight percent—S4000 а year. So the 
net cost of carrying the loan is a lordly 
$50 per annum, tax deductible. 7 s 
very dose to being what speculators h 
pily call a free carry, difficult but not 
mpossible to achieve these days. And 
note that even if the borrower had to 
pay ten percent on the bank loan, the 
сом to him would still be a manageable 
$500 a year, also deductible, 

Having bought his bonds, the investor. 
need only wait. If the interest rate re- 
mains constant, he сап maintain his 
position indefinitely, at а cost of $50 an- 
nually. Of cd the interest rate r 
he'll «oon be in very serious trouble: His 
collateral will diminish in value and he'll 
have to post more cash or sell out a 
loss. In fact, if the interest rate rises as 
much as one percentage point, he'll be 
wiped ош. However, he has projected 
that the interest rate will decline; and if 
this occurs, he will profit handsomely. A 
two-percent decline in the general inter- 
est rate—from eight to six percent—will 


1—$100 to $200, 


202 give his bonds a market value well over 


560,000. He could 


1 out, pay his bro- 


kerage fees, repay the $45,000 bank loan 
and emerge with around $20,000. Not 


bad on an investment of just one fourth 
that. 

Not too many people will be willing 
to assume the risks implicit in this sort 
of transaction, and lor good reason: 
Money can be lost this way just as quick 
ly as gained, But it should have a special 
appeal to risk takers who are familiar 
with the workings of the stock market, 
he e it follows one of the fundamen- 
tal rules of stock speculation: betting 
with the trend, rather than against it. In 
stocks, Ше successful specu 
learns never to “call the turns. 
won't buy into a declining market 
hope that it reverse direct 
morrow, because he knows that stocks 
reverse themselves infrequently, so to bet 
on around is to bet aimst the 
odds. Leveraged transactions in bonds 
nowadays will almost certainly go with 
the trend, because there simply won't be 
much money to borrow until the interest. 
yate—ind Ше bond marl $ headed 
in the right direction. 

The more cautious investor, drawn to 
bonds because of their high yields, finds. 
himself ii less justifiable position. Ey- 
eryone desirous of a fixed income seems 
to have his own price. Some will be 
lured in at seven percent, some at eight, 
more yet at nine and ten. But all of 
them, once they become bond owners, 
find themselves in just the role they 
should avoid in the stock market. As new 
bondholders they are unanimous in 
their expectation that the inte e 
will turn down tomorrow. If they didn't 


will 


expect the interest rate to reverse itself 
immediately, they would do better not to 
buy—to sit on their cash and await 


higher returns. So, to the extent that 
they are attracted to bonds solely by 


their high yields, individual bond buyers 
are trying to call the turns. 

But, to repeat: Stocks and bonds are 
different. The most fascinating aspect of 
the bond market, from the small inves- 
tor’s point of view 
call the turns, with 
ty. Those who know 
have heard the old saw that the small 
investor is alw wron; sional 
stock players scrutinize what are known 
the odd-lot statistics, measu 
tivity of investors (inv am: 
teurs) who buy and sell fewer than 100 
shares at a time. When the odd-lot 
figures show small investors buying 
heavily, the pros take it as a time to sel 
nd when the oddlotters start selling 
heavily, the pros begin to buy. Over the 
years, this simple technique has pro- 
duced many more profits than losses 
"The rationale for its success is that when 
small investors go on a stock-buying 
bender, the ma s intoxicated with 
speculative excess and likely to stumbl 
and when small investors аге so disen- 
chanted that all they want is to sell out 
and go elsewhere, then the bottom 
close at hand. 

The bond market turns this upside 
down. In the words of Sidney Homer, 
partner of the nation’ gest bond 
house and éminence grise of the Wall 
Street bond fraternity, "The public is 
extremely well heeled and extremely 
interestconscious," Small-investor 
is drawn to bonds only when 
rates are rising. "The public still brings 
s remarkable ability ro buy at the top 
and sell at the bottom; but in the bond 
market, th not disaster but 
distinction. High interest rates mean low 
bond prices and the small investor's 
stinct for the top gets him into bonds at 
the very bottom. In fact, when interest 
rates are in the doldrums, the market 
belongs entirely to professionals—big 
institutional investors who, like stamp 
collectors, spend much time exchanging 
esoteric scraps of paper among them 
selves. But when interest rates approach 
peak levels, amateurs get interested. Th 
was true three times during the Fifties, it 
was true in the "credit crunch” of 1966 
nd it scems true today. As one bond 
analyst hypothesized to a Wall Street 
Journal reporter: “The figu 
that the little guy is the fi 
money reserves and that when he comes 
to the bond market, it's because prices 
are about to bottom out.” If prices do 
bottom out, of course, the litile guy will 
profit handsomely. 


is that there he can 
stonishing regul 
the stock market 


esult is 


THE GOURMET ыа» iem 


However, during the rescue, two of the 
bodies were recovered from the deep, 
having drifted into the shallows; they 


a grim and lamentable story 
and it brought the colonel world-wide 
atten But the attention swiftly 
turned into something else, something 
unspoken at the time of the rescue, a 
question none of the newsmen voiced 
aloud but a question that permeated 
every account of the tale when it ap- 
peared im the public press. To put it 
bluntly: They were curious about the 
coloncl's weight, which was five pounds 
more than the weight on thc official 
air-force record, a measure taken only 
one day prior to the flight. Eight men 
died of starvation, but Colonel Miguel 
Fernandez Malagaras was overweight, 
pink-checked and, according to army 
physicians, in excellent health.” 
Pachman took the chance of looking di- 
rectly into the colonc!'s eyes. But on both 
sides of the great nose. the pupils were 
к, empty and devoid of revelation. 
You can imagine how the rumor mills 
began to grind, Colonel.” Pachman said. 
“You can imagine the speculation. How 
ssible for eight men to starve 
nd one to grow fat? The colonel credit- 
ed healthy constitution. He claimed 
that the weighing machine had been in 
eror. He spoke of having gotten grossly 
overweight prior to the flight and even 
attempted to laugh about his indul- 
gences in food and drink. But his fellow 
officers reduced this story to ashes. They 
said the colonel was always a lean n 
The scale used to weigh the colonel was 
stolen by an enterprising newspz 
and tested in a laboratory. It was found 
to be accurate. There was no milita 
tribunal, no private investigation, no 
public charges; nowhere in any official 


an. 


document did the word appear; the 
word that was unspoken in public state- 
ments and unwr n ted ac- 
counts; the word that every man and 


woman in the world was whispering. Can- 
nibalism. That was the word, Colonel. 
The old man deadened h 
ade a gesture for more wine. In the. 
nt light struck his eyes and 
Iman saw their glassy surfaces. 
The answer scemed ten 
to everyone. Colonel Malagaras had be 
in charge of the expedition. He h 
been in command alter the crash 
had formulated the rules for sur 
including the ‘sanitary’ rules for dispos- 
ing of the dead. He had gotten rid of the 
s himself. But the world guessed 
the method had been more than 
honorable burial at sca. It had been 
, but only after the coloncl's 


The wine arrived. The colonel sipped 
it, put down the glass and rose. 

"Good night, señor,” he said, “Thank 
you for the entertaining story. Now is 
the hour I retire. I hope to see you 
again." 
diman was impressed by the dignity 
of his exit. But that dignity faltered at 
the door. The colonel stumbled and 
might have fallen, but Pachman hurried 
over and seized the wishbone of his arm. 
The colonel tried to pull away, but Pach- 
man persisted and helped him to his car. 
In the open plaza, the colonel allowed 
his eyes to blaze. “You must not tell that 
filthy story again!” “It is all a 
lie and I am not that man! Why can't 
you let me live in peace?” Then he 
clouted Rodrigo’s shoulder and woke the 
mute. When the Renault drove away, a 
noose of smoke escaped the window as 
the colonel lit a cigarette. 

The next morning, Rodrigo delivered 
a note to Pachman's pension, asking him 


he said 


to call at ше colonel's home early that 
evening. The note was left with the 
manager, who made no pretense of not 
having read it. He was astonished that 
the recluse would extend any 
especially to a foreigner. It was а mira- 
de; he predicted that the fish would 
jump out of the sea that day and hook 
the people. 

Pachman obeyed the summons. There 
were 115 steps to be climbed to reach the 
old man’s house. It was smaller than it 
ed from the beach, with only four 
: one for dining. onc for cooking, 
one for sleeping and one for talking. He 
entered the last, admired its few pieces 
of Moorish furniture and waited for the 
colonel to statement. He w 
grateful that the colonel, too, was not 
one for preambles. 

“What will you do, Señor Pachman?” 
he asked. 


ity about such things. Will you 
to your country and write of thi 
Pachman hesitated, then said: 


"sts 


STARRING THOSE LOVABLE, 
LAUCHABLE CUTUPS, BILLY THe 
GEAR CUB AND OLLIE OTER 


oF ES 
PLUS SIX CAPTCONS 


“Know which part I liked best? I liked the coming 
attractions of ‘I Am Curious (Yellow). 


203 


PLAYBOY 


204 


e 


been considering it. However, I 

going to reveal where I met you, 
Colonel Malagaras, nor the name you 
ате choosing to use. I wouldn't expose 


you to such publicity. You needn't 
worry." 

"But I do worry,” the colonel said 
bitterly. "I worry from the force of 


thinty-ive year habit, señor. Expecting 
momentarily to hear that word whis 
pered behind me on the strect To hear 
that word in the café or from a passing 

st on the beach or from some new 
nd with old memories, such as you. I 
am not a recluse by nature or tempera 
ment, Señor Pachman, only by песе 
І eave human company, L enjoy my 


tertulias, Y would prefer to wavel; all 
these things arc denied 
You never leave the island?" Pach- 


э said. "I've heard you own a boat.” 
"The boat is mine, but Rodrigo is its 
captain; he uses it to bring supplies and 
provisions from the mainland. No, señor, 
Î am a prisoner of myself, a prisoner of 
my own fear, the fear of recognition that. 


has been fading slowly for three dozen 
years, until you came like a curse to this 
island 

‘Colonel Malagaras;" Pachman said, 
"Tl be honest with you. As a journalist, 


I can't ignore what is in front of my own 
nd you don't exist 


eyes. 1 can't pret id 
I can't feel so much compassion for you 
that I can keep silent for the sake ol it. 
But TH tell you this. There's something 
here even more important to me than 
my job." 
What is that? 

Pachman said: “Right here in front of 
me is the answi mystery Гуе won- 
dered about s a child.” 

“бог” 
I'd like to make a bargain. I'll offer 
to keep my silence, but I want something 
in return.” 
Vot money? I have none.” 
‘Not money. 105 an answer I want, 
Colonel The truth about what hap- 
pened on that expedition; what hap- 
pened to those eight on the 1; 
what accounted for your гозу checks and 
avoirdupois w Not the 
answer you gave the press thirty-five years 
ago. Colonel; an answer 1 can accept and 
believe. And I give you my solemn oath 
that nothing you tell me will be pub- 
lished through my doin 
Pachman expected опе of two replies 
n outright refusal ıo speak or, more 
kely, a reite: the colonel 
had doggedly told the world in the year 
of his crisis. But after the colonel had 
risen, paced and smoked through а ciga- 
rexte, the old man said: 

“Very well, seüor. It may prove to be a 
relief to speak the truth to someone. 

Then he said: 

“I am not a 
worse. 

Pachman felt а sharp thrill. 


je they starved. 


ation of whit 


anibal. E am something 


“And because I am something worse, I 
was unable to be honest with the press at. 
the time of my re: „ The inference 
they made was unexpected. Abom 
ble! And yet, I was unwilling to retract 
my story, unwilling to speak the truth, 
unwilling to rev the true shame of 
what I had donc." 

His pause was so long that Pachman 
prompted him. 

And wl 
nel? Wh 


did you do wrong. Colo 
re you that was worse th 


А coward,” Ше colonel said. 

“You see, señor, there was a detail that 
was never mentioned in the news storie: 
10 was the fact that the aircraft th 
crashed on the island carried mo 
twelve passengers. It also cont 
visions. Yes, Señor Pachman, food: 
supply meant to sustain twelve h 
soldiers on a long flight. Not a supply for 
two months, it's true, but quite enough 
to keep . . . one man alive." 

Pachman leaned back. feeling a sm 
rm flush on his face. 

“After the plane crash, and before 1 
et the wreckage adrift in the hope of 
amraciing attention, I removed that box 
id 
land. 1 had every 
ng the food by some system that 
would keep us alive until help came. But 
then. as the painful truth dawned, that 
the odds against rescue were enormous, 1 
realized that the pitiful supply of tinned 
s would merely be a 


wa 


it on the other side 
intention of 


miserable 
the 
l was 


that lonely. 
rock that had been thrust out of 
bottom of the carth. And, besides 
their leader, the commander of the expe- 
dition: I needed whatever strength that 
food could provide, so І could тайна 
discipline. And 1 knew that once they 
were ol rhe presence of those 
meager rations, they would fight one 
nother for them and die, anyway. 

71 did. what I thought was right, señor. 
But perhaps I was wrong. Perhaps, as the 
days passed and it was clear that death 
was coming for all of us, my fear over- 
whelmed my reason and my stratagem 
for saving all their lives became only a 
device for saving my own. . . ." 

The colonel stiffened 
chair and. reached for his glass of sherry, 
He lifted it slowly, as if it were a great 
weight. Pachman cleared his tluoat and 


a his rattan 


“Thank you, Colonel. Thank you for 
telling me. I know how difficult it must 
have been. 

"Yes" the colonel said. 
preferred to say nothing. 
forced me to speak of someth 


would have 
You have 
ng L wish 


to forget. 1 hope you will keep your 
promise to forget it as well 

Pachman said: “That was my bargi 
Colonel- 


He left immediately after and re- 
turned to his pension. He wasn't sure if 


he was clated or depressed. He 


was hap- 
py to have the mystery solved, unhappy 
to have it forbidden 10 him as a subject 
for his typewriter. He found himself 
composing titles for the article. He be- 
gan to think of outlets for the story. He 
began to wonder if it wasn't worthy of 
n entire book; he could visualize 
stacked in the bookstore windows: 
was almost ready to compose the imagi- 
nary reviews. Ir seemed to him that such 
a story might well be a watershed in his 
carcer. Pachman began to fec the stir- 
g of ex 
ment about his work he had experienced 
ince the last three years of his unfortu- 
nate marriage 

Suddenly, he kuew he had to have a 
ionale for publishing the colonel's sto- 
ry. He wouldn't present it as a rationale, 
not even to himself. But it was so ob- 
vious, so clear, so convincing. He would 
» 10 the colonel at once 
“Colonel Malagaras, please hear me 
out before vou refuse me perm 
te your story. For thi € years. 
you've lived the life of a recluse, your 
face so repugnant that you hid it from 
the world, your name so dishonored that 
you abandoned it. And for what? Е 
ugly and untrue suspicion that you 
might have erased with a few words to the 
press. ty-five years too 
late for you to make that correction. But 
if somcone сїзє did it, Coloncl, if some- 
one else discovered the truth the 
that you acted as you did only from a 
sense of duty, only from an honest con- 
viction, whether right or wrong—what a 
difference that would make! You would 
be understood; you would be exonerat- 
ed: you would be forgiven; you would be 
frec to be yourself again. to be Colonel 
andez Malagaras, to liye 

your own way... 

Pachman found. himself rehearsing the 
argument aloud as he climbed the 115 
steps to the Colonel's house and knocked 
on the door. The thick oak absorbed the 
puny sound his knuckles made, so he 
pushed it open and entered. He found 
the colonel in his dining room, with 
Rodrigo beside him, pouring wine into а 
goblet. He cleared his throat and the 
colonel turned зо swiftly that his ch 
almost toppled. 

Pachman began to apologize for the 
intrusion. But then he saw what was on 
the colonel's plate. When he realized 
what it was, and. recognized the lie he 
had been told, there was по more voice 
in his throat. The colonel followed his 
gaze, and then his eyes began to beg. 

“Please, señor, please,” he said. 
must understand. Once you develop the 


хаме... 
E 


he 


ement, the first real exc 


ad say: 


on to 


sto 


face 


Miguel 


your own life 


ou 


“I jump across two roofs, run down three fire escapes, dodge two 
police cars—and you say it’s a lousy little necklace!" 


PLAYBOY 


206 


PLAYBOY 
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swers to your shopping questions. 
She will provide you with the name 
of a retail store in or near your city 
where you can buy any of the spe- 
cialized items advertised or edito- 
rially featured in PLAYBOY. For 
example, where-to-buy information is 
available for the merchandise of the 
advertisers in this issue listed below. 


Croton Watches 
Gant Shirimakers. 
Kenwood. 
Lee Sports 


MG Autos 
Saab Autos 


Use these lines for information about 
other featured merchandise. 


Miss Pilgrim will be happy to answer 
any of your other questions on fash- 
ion, travel, food and drink, bi-fi, etc. 
1f your question involves items you 
saw in PLAYBOY, please specify page 
number and issue of the magazine as 
well as a brief description of the items: 
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