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NUTTY NEW HUMOR BY WOODY ALLEN • NEW WORKS BY BERNARD MALAMUD, 
LAWRENCE DURRELL, RAY BRADBURY, KINGSLEY AMIS, ROBERT GRAVES, 
NELSON ALGREN « MOVIE SEX STARS OF 1972 + AN INTERVIEW WITH YEVGENY 
YEVTUSHENKO * DAN GREENBURG GOES TO HIS FIRST ORGY - RALPH NADER, 
ROBERT TOWNSEND, MURRAY KEMPTON, ROBERT EVANS ON “POWER!” 
PLUS EVERYTHING FROM ALPHA WAVES TO PINBALL MACHINES TO MAFIA DONS 


| BLENDED 
|22 WHISKY |j 


Cutty § Sark د ل‎ ы The only giftof its kind: d 


“IT WAS AL LOT OF CAR IN THE BEGINNING 
AND IT'S A LOT MORE CAR TODAY.” moron mios 


That's a rave review from a tough critic: 
tech 


the basic car were carved out of a TR6 drivers anywhere: or by people 
That solid feeling who have simply driven in one. 

65 taut, low-built Even though we've beet 

with rug ШЫ 4-wheel indepen- ing and evolving the TR series for 

uspension. It's а car for precise two decades, it wouldn't be the great 


editor said our TR6 (below) 
more of a sportscar than th 
ТК (above) —both winners in national den! 
and international compet: 


improv- 


driving, crafted by engineers who sportscar it is today, if it hadn't been 
wanted you to know abou! really under: 3 great to begin with. 
But aside from talking about the And the m: 
TR6S heritage, they had a lot to say it having "long: 


THE CLASSICALLY BRITISH 


-forever 


dedu, ^ TRIUMPH TR-6 6) 


about the car itself. "There is a feeling 


of almost awesome solidity, as though — 6-cylinder engine w will be 


FORTHE NAME OF YOUR NEAREST TRIUMPH DEALER CALL: 800 691-1972. IN NEW JERSEY CALL 800 902-2803. BRITISH LEYLAND MOTORS INC., LEONIA. N. J. 


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PLAYBILL "x: frm. we all become more con- 
scious than usual of where we've been and 

where we seem 10 be headed. The female Santa on our cover— 
like a ghost of Christmas past—will stir memories in the heads 
of those who recall those Coke ads of several de go. These 
images, which became familiar around the world, were revived 
expressly for PLaynoy by the Пу created them 
—Chicago painter Haddon 
visual consciousness in more ways than on 
the Quaker Oats man 
We wouldn't presume to define or evaluate what is called 
the new journalism. We suspect, how- 
ever, that wolves a writer's 


He abo designed 


with litle pretense of objec 
holiday issue includes several articles in 
which writers take you along on such 
personal trips—and. in the process, make 
some memorable points. In The Misis- 
sippi, Richard Rhodes follows the down- 
river wail blazed by Huck Finn and 
observes the destruction that "progress" 
has wrought. Rhodes's last PLAYBOY com 
tribution was Sex and Sin in Sheboygan 
(August): he recently completed a novel 
tilled Going Out lo Death. 
A more urban slice of life is Truckin’ 
ith Gretchen, Craig Vetter's account of 
а Chicago gogo dancer vietimized by the 
drug culture she helps propagate. It was 
the last piece done by rLaynoy Stall 
Writer Vetter before leaving Chicago, 
fter three years, and returning to his na- 
ve California, He's now living hard by 
the ocean south of Los Angeles—where, 
between wı 
ing to become less mind and more body” 
(that means he's surfing). 

In posing for the illustration to My 
First Orgy, New York writer Dan Gre 
burg spent two days in Las Vegas en- 


SUNDBLOM 


RHODES 


ting assignments, he's "stri 


twined with about a dozen show nd 
complement of male models the 
nude. “It was a hundred in the shade, but 


nobody scemed to care.” recalls Green- 
burg, whose account details his reluctant 
arch for group sex. He is currently writ- 
ing the screenplay 
of his book Scoring: 
A Sexual Memoir, completing a TV pilot 

nd doing. postproduction work on a 
film he wrote, coproduced and appeared 
in, and has tentatively titled 7 Could 
Never Have Sex with Any Man Who Has 
So Little Regard for My Husband. 

Yet another personal trip, this one from 
the past, is recalled by Nelson Algre 
The Way ta Médenine, which is based 
on his 1949 tour of North Africa. with 


VETTER 


TOWNSEND 


Simone de Beauvoir. The article, along with two previous 
rıaynoy stories by Algren, will be republished in a-Putiam 
book sometime next year. 

In Front of God and Everybody finds Donn Pearce digging 
into his troubled youth and reliving an improbable Chris 
pageant at the Florida State Prison. The events described oc- 
curred just before he was transferred to the chain-gang camp 
where he “researched” the material for Cool Hand Luke. 

Anthony Scaduto's Head of the Family delves into tli 
of organized crime for a portrait of Carmine Tr 
one of the top Mafia men in New Yor 
dominated Brooklyn neighborhood, and 
a professional Ma cher for about 15 
years. Scaduto was а New York Post lea- 
ture writer until setting out to free-lance 
two years ago, The author of Bob Dylan, 
published last March by Grosset & Dun- 
lap. he is researching and writing an 
unauthorized biography of Mick Jagger. 

Although it's definitely their game, we 
didn't ask any Mafia chieftains to con- 

jute to Power! a collection of four 
ys on that subject by people who 
should know: Ralph Nader, the sell- 
appointed guardian of people's righ 
Robert Evans, head of Paramount 
tures; Robert (Up the Organization) 
Townsend: and political writer Murray 
Kempton. 

Science is the focal point of Scot 
Morris’ A Heart-Slopping, Eye-Bulging, 
Wave-Making Idea and of Ray Brad. 
bury's From Stonehenge to Tranquillity 
Base. Mor the latest re- 
he got inte the 
subject while studying lor his Ph.D. 
clinical psychology at Southern Illinois. 
After getting the degree, he spent two 
years as an editor of Psychology Today; 
now a freelancer, he's writin 
volume of a Time-Life series, Human 
Behavior. Bradbury, in his lyrical es 
calls on man to continue his sca 
immortality via the space program. He is 
otherwise involved in writing the screen- 
play (for Sam Peckinpah) of his novel 
Something Wicked This Way Comes; 
casting Гог his new 
stage drama, Levia- 
than 99, which he's producing at his 
Pandemonium wer in Los An- 
geles: and turning another novel, Dande- 
lion Wine, into a musical. 

Our lead fiction, The Silver Ci 


MORRIS 


by Bernard Malamud. blends reality 
Tanta 


w in а way that’s familiar to h 
Malamud, twice winner of a Na- 
tional Book Award, has recently write 
amber of short stories in a similar 


a 


MALAMUD 


BRADBURY 


PLAYBOY 


AMIS 


DURRELL 


magical machines now enjoying а re 
е. The feature is co 

talgic evocation of the pinball milicu by 
Marshall Frady, plus Laure 

artide, which relates the history of the 
game and offers advice to would-be buyers 
of pinball machines. The photography 
for Pinball is by rravsor staffer Don 
Azuma; the artwork is by John Crai 


cen 


mode. Real and surreal are also commit 
gled by Kingsley Amis in Who or What 
Was I, in which the author—also 
the protagonist—scems to be visited by 
characters from his own supernatural 
novel, The Green Man. Amis, who’s just 
completed a new detective novel and “a 
lighthearted book on drinks" informs 
us that “one or two highly intelligent 
and well-read friends who've read the 
typescript of Who or What have taken 
it as a true account of а real experience.” 

Our other fiction provides comic coun- 
terpoint: The Further Adventures of 
Chauncey Alcock, by Lawrence Sanders, 
who is best known as the author of The 
Anderson Tapes, and David Ely's The 
Gourmet Hunt. Sanders’ story is a satire 
on the Horatio Alger school of writing 
(he calls it "sheer wish fulfillment’); his 
fourth novel, The Ice Axe, is almost 
finished. Ely's fifth novel, Walking Davis, 
was published by Charterhouse Ос 
tober; among his previous efforts аге 
Seconds and The Tour. 

A special literary treat is Love Lines, 
а quartet of amorous poems—two by 
Lawrence Durrell, must renowned for 
The Alexandria Quartet but also the au- 
thor of s books of poetry, and two 


by Robert Graves, who is England’s poet 
that accom- 


laureate, The oil paintin; 
ny Love Lines are by Clu 
berg a Chicago artist whose work has 
been shown at the Whitney Museum, 
among other places. 

А poet—Irom Russia—is also the sub- 
ject of our interview this month: Yevgeny 
Yevtushenko, whose past writings often 
defied the wrath of Soviet authorities. 
The conversation was conducted by 
PLaynoy Senior Editor Michael Laurence. 
(For more on the plight of Soviet writers, 
see Playboy After Hours for an excerpt 
from Alexander Solzhenitsyn's undeliv- 
ered Nobel Prize accepta 
nice also sup 
aration of Pinball, 
a salute to those 


prised of a nos- 


e's own 


has designed a number of pinball ma- 
chines. Incidentally, Laurence, a former 
pinball-machine repairman, managed to 
secure—on loan—one of the games pho- 
tographed by Azuma. It now resides in 
hisofhce, where it's becom 
battleground for PLAYROY 
Among our 
special items. Or 
series of n 
n. Himself а ny of the 
techniques employed by the old masters, 
Hollman—discovered several years ago 
by pravuoy Art Director Arthur Paul— 
recently moved from Miami to New York, 
where he has opened a studio. The other 
is six pages on the Joffrey Ballet's Nancy 
Robinson in her showcase numbe 
lante; it was photographed by Н 
Migdoll. the ballet's official photog 


editorial staff, 
torials are two rather 
is Woman Eternal, a 


apher 
and the art director of Dance Magazine; 
his work is in the permanent collection 
of the Museum of Modern Art. Liaison 


between pLavuoy and the ballet people 
—who were pleased to stage this nude 

ion of Astarte—was provided by 
Contribut Editor Bruce Williamson, 
who has known Bob Joffrey since the 
latter's days as ап off-Broadway chore- 
ographer. Our pictorials also include 12 
pages of Sex Stars of 1972, by Arthur 
Knight and Hollis Alpert. 

Humorous emries—in ad n to 
those already mentioncd—are a Woody 
Allen detective-story parody, Match Wits 
with Inspector Ford; Judith Wax’s comic 
Christmas cards; and a take-off on The 
Twelve Days of Christmas called And a 
Bald Eagle in a Plum Tree. Modern- 
living features include guides to а no- 
hassle yule dinner, Christmas gilts (also 
photographed by Azuma) and notso- 
formal formalwe. There's also a takeout 
on toiletries to facilitate sensual bath- 
ing and massage, and Hanging Out in 
the Out Islands, in which Staff Writer 
David Standish—who has traveled exten 
sively in Ohio and 
Indiana—tells how 
the Bahamas lock 
abroad (the view is 
in Fieldings). The 


partee from our 


pher; h 


to а semi 
not one you'll find 


raphy is by Alexas Urh 


Urba remains a Contributing Photo; 
Iso photographed our Playmate, 
тойсо fan Mercy Rooney. 

May you have a merry Christmas а 


AZUMA 
—— 


innocent 


attendant. photog- 
‚ a recent d 
fter seven years. 


d 


stay clear of bald eagles in plum trees. 


m 


who, among his other accomplishments, Imm 


AN 


RAMBERG 


KNICHT 


LAURENCE ALPERT ALLEN 


в һонтн MICHIGAN AVENUE, 
ATES, $10 FOR ONE YEAR 


PLAYBOY, DECEUDER, 1972, VOLUME 18, NUMBER iz 
CHICAGO, "ILLINOIS боён. SECONP-CLASS POSTAGE PAI 


PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, IN RATIONAL AND REGIONAL кто 
AT CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, AND AT ADDITIONAL MAILING OFFICES. 


Panov sunowe, 
ONS: IN THE UNITED 


Big Sur. You've had a sunset ride. 
You deserve Seagram's V.O. The First Canadian. 


n smoothness. First in ligt irst in sales throughout the world. 
е others come after. 


CANADIAN WHISKY — A BLEND DF SELECTED WHISKIES. 8U 
YEARS OLD.88.8 PROOF, SEAGRAM DISTILLERS COMPANY, К.О, 


vol. 19, no. 12—december, 1972 


PLAYBOY. 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


pravan 3 
DEAR PLAYBOY. 13 

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS... a 29 

BOOKS " : 32 

DINING-DRINKING...... 58 

MOVIES. 5 ы в“ 

RECORDINGS oo " n 

Pinball Games TERVEI S Бес ze 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR = к 79 

THE PLAYBOY FORUM... a7 

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: YEVGENY YEVTUSHENKO—cendid conversation........... 105 

THE SILVER CROWN—fiction BERNARD MALAMUD 120 

HEAD OF THE FAMILY—orticle sss ANTHONY SCADUTO 124 

AND A BALD EAGLE IN А PLUM TREE-humor...... 2a 


Ls EMANUEL GREENBERG 130 
MARTIN HOFFMAN 133 


KEEPING IT CASUAL—food und drink... 
WOMAN ETERNAL—pictorial е 


THE FURTHER ADVENTURES OF 
CHAUNCEY ALCOCK—fiction .... 


LAWRENCE SANDERS 142 


MY FIRST ORGY—article __ К DAN GREENBURG 144 
FROM STONEHENGE TO TRANQUILLITY BASE—essoy PAY BRADBURY 149 
PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS CARDS—verse —.. JUDITH WAX 150 
THE WAY TO MEDENINE—arlicle Я МЕЅОМ ALGREN 153 


HANGING OUT IN THE OUT ISLANDS—trovel. DAVID STANDISH 154 
PINBALL— memoir. = omm MARSHALL FRADY 159 
GREAT MOMENTS IN PINBALL HISTORY —modern living MICHAEL LAURENCE 162 
IN FRONT OF GOD AND EVERYBODY—article DONN PEARCE 165 
MERCY, MERCY!—playboy’s playmate of the month 166 
Love Poems Р. 218 PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES-humor........ 176 
THE MISSISSIPPI—a le RICHARD FHODES 178 
THE GOURMET HUNT —fici DAVID ELY 188 
А STARTLING ASTARTE— pictorial. „HERBERT MIGDOU 182 


POWER!—symposium 
ROBERT EVANS, MURRAY KEMPTON, RALPH NADER, ROBERT TOWNSEND 


- TRUCKIN' WITH GRETCHEN— article. CRAIG VETTER 191 
THE VARGAS GIRL— pictorial.. > — ALBERTO VARGAS 192 

PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE-gifis.... » ا‎ W 

Г WHO OR WHAT WAS IT? —quasi memoir KINGSLEY AMIS 201 
Hoffman Nudes P. 131 SEX STARS OF 1972—article „ARTHUR KNIGHT and HOLIS ALPERT 206 
LOVE LINES — poetry. 218 

SPRING SONG; THERE'S A BULGE IN YOUR COMPUTER. .LAWFENCE DURRELL 219 

THE NOOSE; HER BEAUTY „ROBERT GRAVES 220 


SAVING А SOUL—ribald classic LORENZO DE’ MEDICI 224 
BATH TOILETRIES: THE ABLUTION REVOLUTION—modern living... = ЖШ 


A HEART-STOPPING, EYE-BULGING, 
WAVE-MAKING IDEA —«rticlo. SCOT MORRIS 228 


BLACK TIE OPTIONAL-—atlire. ne 23 ROBERT 1. GREEN 231 


MATCH WITS WITH INSPECTOR FORD—parody............WOODY ALEN 232 
First Orgy P. 144 PLAYBOY POTPOURRI en O о 276 


AVE . CHICAGO, знан EDEN 1. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL WAMUSCRIFTS, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SLOMITTEO 
E YO ne бетинер AND NO FEGPONEINILITY CAN DE ASSUMED FOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS. ALL FIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT TO PLAYBOY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCONDITIONALLY ASSIGNED 
SATION AND COPYRIGHT PURPOSES AND AS SUBJECT TO PLAYBOY'S UNRESTRICTED RIGHT TD EDIT AND TO COMMENT EDITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT © 1972 BY PLAYBOY. ALL FIGHTS 
лүү AND FABGIT HEAD SYMBOL ARE MARKS OF PLAYBOY. REGISTERED U. S. PATENT OFFICE, MARCA REGISTRADA. MANQUE DEFOE. NOTHING MAY BE KEFRINTED їч WHOLE олун 


GENERAL OFFICES: PLATBOF BUILDING. эзе nomim sieni 


THAM CAPE LTO. P 4; САВАА! CARLO. P. A: DAVID CHAN, P. 166: ALAN CLIFTON. P. 3, JONAS DOVYOERAS, 
LIPPE WALSHAN, P 4; ROBERT HARMON, R- 162: CARL IRI, P. 3 (2), 4, ANVER BEY KHAN, Р а. JAMES MAHAN, P. 3. JANNA MALAMU 
En SEYMOUR РЭ, VERNON LL SMITH. 3. а: PETER STARK. P. a: GENE TRIRDL, P. 4, MICK WHITE, P. 19: FRED түк MERMAN, P. 4. P. 206-217 FROM THE COLLECTIONS OF: IAY 
Foul FORAS d. INCHAM (1). GIANCARLO BUTS, GIANI DOLLACCHI. JONN BRYSON. MAIO CASILLI (4). DAVID CHAN. WILLIAM CLAXTON. RICHARD FEGLEY. LEE GROSS. BRIAN HAMI 
амиян o. HERMESSEY (2). EARL Ih О). DOUGLAS KIMKLAND, майым LIENTNER. RALPH NELSON (2). TERRY O'REILL (2) RAW 
STEVE SCHAPING. SKREGNESKI. PHILIP û. STEARNS, RON THAL, ALEXAS URBA (2), ERIC WESTON, MUT WILDE AND B P. 459 MLISTRATION BY SKI WILL 


WeWon! 
Now you win with the 
Trans Am VictoryJavelin 


For the second year in a row, specially prepared 
and modified Javelins beat all the other hot cars 
in the Trans American Racing Series and we 
feel like celebrating, 

We won the championship, and now 
with the specially equipped Trans Am Victory 
Javelin, you get 14” slot style wheels, E-70 x 14 
white lettered wide polyglas tires, space-saver 
spare tire and a Trans Am winner medallion on 
the side panel at no extra charge. 

We call it the Trans Am Victory Package 
American Motors includes this special 


sand other options ex 
luc. is the propricter o 


equipment listing for $167.45 at no cost. 

And remember, only American Motors 
makes this promise: The Buyer Protection 
Plan backs every 73 car we build and we'll see 
that our dealers back that promise. 

So come see the winner at your 
American Motors dealer and find out why we 
say: We back them better because we build 
them better. 


George Follmer! 
Roy Woods/ 
Trans-Am Racing Team 


Buckle up for safety. 


AMERICAN MOTORS BUYER PROTECTION PLAN! i 

4. A simple, strong guarantee. just 101 words! 
When vou buy a new 1973 car from an American Motors 
dealer. American Motors Corporation guarantees to you that. 
except for (гез. it will pay for the repair or replacement of 
апу part it supplies that is defective in material or workman- 
ship. This guarantee is good for 12 months from the date the 
Car is first used or 13.000 miles, whichever comes first Al 
we require is that the car be properly maintained an. 
for under normal use and service in the fifty United States or 
Canada. and that guaranteed repairs or replacement be made 
by an American Motors de: 

ee ar 
dealers if guaranteed repairs take overnight. 

3. Special Trip Interruption Protecuon. 

5. And a toll free hot line to AMC Headquarters. 


AMC У Javelin 


We back them better because we build them better. 


PLAYBOY 


You don't have to buy 


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There's AM radios, FM/ AM/FM stereo radios, radio/ 
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*20 band, DC clock all feature (accessories: not 


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1 year free carry-in labor 
А at more than 500 Hitachi 
Quality always comes lirst at authorized service 


HITACHI | ^ 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH М. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 


ARTHUR KRETCHMER executive editor 
ARTHUR PAUL art director 
SHELDON WAX managing editor 
MARK KAUFFMAN photography editor 


MURRAY FISHER, NAT LEHRMAN 
assistant managing editors 


EDITORIAL 

ARTICLES: DAVID. ROTLER editor, crorrurv 
NORMAN assoriate editor, €. MARRY COLSON 
assistant editor « FICTION: ROME MACAULEY 
editor, STANLEY PALEY associale editor, 
SUZANNE MENEAR, WALTER SUBLETT. assistant! 
editors + SERVICE FEATURES: том OWEN 
modern living editor, KOGER WINENER, KAY 
Wham assistant editors; ROWERT 1. GREEN 
fashion director, nw rarr asociate 
fashion director, WALTER HOLMES fashion 
editor; TOMAS MARIO food & drink editor 
CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY editor + COPY: 
ARLENE EOURAS editor, STAN AMBER assistant 
editor + STAFF: MICHAEL LAURENCE, ROBERT. ] 
SHEA, DAVID STEVENS senior editors; LAURENCE 
GONZALES, REG POTTERTON, FRANK M. ROBINSON, 
DAVID STANDISH, CRAIG VETTER staff writers: 
DOUGLAS BAUER. WILLIAM J- 1 

NEFSE. CARL SNYDER associate 
FAURA LONELY mmm, DOUGLAS C. 
F O'CONNOR, ARNIE wot 
editors; SUSAN икн, BARBARA NELLIS. 
LAURI SADLER, MENNICE т. ZIMMERMAN re 
search editors; J. PAUL cerry (business & 
finance), NAT WENYOVF, JACK J. KESSE, 
RICHARD WARREN LEWIS, KAY RUSSELL, JEAN 
KD, JOHN skOW, ни WILLIAMSON 
томі UNGERER contributing editors 
ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES: THEO FREDERICK 
personnel direclon; АТКА — PAPANGELIS 
administrative editor; CATHERINE GENOVISE 
rights & permissions; MILDRED. ZIMMERMAN 
administrative assistant. 


ART 
STAEGLER, KEKIG rore asociate directors, 
MICHAEL SISON executive assistant; non 
. KOY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, T suskı 
CORDON MORTENSEN. FRED NE 
FACZEK, ALFRED ZELCER assistant 
JULIE икке. (CHOR HUBBARD, JOHN KJOS 
ан assistants 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
МАЦА GRABOWSKI, GARY COLE, MLL SUMIS 
(technical), HOLLIS WAYNE associate editors; 
MUL AKSENAULT, DON AZUMA, DAVID CHAN, 
CHARD FEGLEY, DWIGHT HOOKER, POMPEO 
rosar staf] photographers; CARL mi associate 
мај] photographer; BRINN D. HENNESSEY, 
rameck LICHFIELD, ALENAS URBA contrib- 
nting photographers: wo xiret. photo lab 
superior: JANICE WERKOWITZ chief stylist: 
ASCHE GOLRGUECHON SILL 
PRODUCTION 
jonx Maso director; ALLEN VARGO man- 
шег; FLFANORE WAGNER, RITA JOHNSON, MARIA 
MANDIS. RICHARD QUARFAROLI assistants 


HEADER SERVICE, 
CAROLE Ck vie director 


‘CIRCULATION 
1HONAS 6. WILLIAMS customer ser 
wirwotn subscriplion manag 


Imoursoy newsstand man 
оми 
ADVERTISING 


now ARD w. гогик «асо бліна director 


ices; ALNIN 
VINCENT 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC- 
wombkr s. peuss business manager and 
associate publisher; кам» S. ROSENZWEIG 
кесше assistant to the publishers RICHARD 
м. kort assistant publisher 


not for everybody. 


NUNN 
BUSH 


Nunn Bush Shoe Co., Milwaukee, Wisconsin 53201 


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Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


How 
good - 
it is’ 


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with Winstons |; 
finer flavor | ee 

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Winston’s real, rich, satisfying taste makes | 
any occasion a little more pleasurable. ig 
Because Winston always tastes good, EH 


like a cigarette should. i 


| yin slon P KING 


өө» PANY. WINSTON-SALEM а.с 
SUPER KING, KING: 21 mg."ter", 14 mg. nicotine, av. per cigarette, FTC Report AUG.'72. 


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QU ы 
Share a Treasure 
with Someone. 


Give Ballantine’ Scotch, all wrapped up likethe treasureit is. 
For 12 friends (or one very close friend) consider a case. a 


s V a Holiday thought: Th they ‚Scotch, 
Be aBallantine’s Loyalist Posy лас 


BOTTLED IN SCOTLAND, BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY. B6 PRDDF. IMPORTED BY "21" BRANDS, INC. NY. 


DEAR PLAYBOY 


ADDRESS PLAYBOY MAGAZINE - PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 н. MICHIGAN AVE, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 6081 


DRUG ABUSE 
Your package on The Drug Explosion 
(mLavnoy, September). is a well-written 
nd informative guide for all those con- 
cerned with the problem of drug abuse. 
More people must become aware of the 
mind crippling potential of street drugs. 
Your continuing cilorts to combat the 
ignorant and paranoid. cries for harsher 
x penalties should prove helpful in 
setting up laws to govern the sale and 
the purity of drugs. People will continue 
use them. regardless of 
ng would more benefit the па 
than Governmental control of all drugs. 
James Oyermeyer 

Phoenix, Arizona 


I am a member of a drug group at the 
Ashland Federal Youth Center and I'd 
like to commend you for publishing the 


truth. Your articles on drugs are inspir- 
of your readers pro- 
t 


g | hope non 
as them irrcle 


Michael Sanford 
Project Suaight Up 
Ashland, Kentucky 


We me pleased to announce the selec- 
om of m avrov chart Major. Drugs 
Their Uses and Effects as a Pacesetter 
for the month of September. This is an 
semed to an inno 
that adv 
ion. 
Hammond 
e Direct 
ional Coord 
on Drug Education 
ashington, D.C 


program 


cause of drug edu 


Peter G. 
Exec 
N 


Recently, I took an overdose of what 
I thought was THC. I found out later it 


was PCP. The doctors, ignorant of both 
drugs, gave me Thorizine to bring me 
down. The result was nine days in a 
coma, The doctors couldn't figure out 


why 1 wasn't coming out, They should 
have read Ci s article, Buyer 
Beware (ruavnoy, September). 1 agree 
with Karpel. When you buy dope on the 
street, watch out 
(Name withheld by request) 
Chicago, Illinois 


Readers of Karpel’s article, which. de- 
tails how drugs sold on the street are 
ohen adulterated, may be interested to 


know that Drug Resources for University 
funded 


Groups (DRUG). a Federally 
drug-education program at the Un 
of New Mexico, is currently maintaining 
a druganalysis laboratory. The guide 
lines under which we operate allow the 
mple to remain 
I obtain a direct re 
This is accomplished through à 
Lin syste works a» follows: 
ns a mailin form 
issigns himself a code num 
mails us a dose of the drug. 
Seven days later, die contributor can call 
our office and obtain the results. To d: 
our resulis suppo Karpel’s conc 
sions concerning substitution and adul- 
teration of drugs. 
Marcia Summers, Director 
Drug Resources for Unive 
Albuquerque. New Mexico 


contributor of a dru 
anonymous and st 
por 


ber and 


е, 


ity Groups 


Your articles on drug abuse are, for 
the most part, an intelligent, compelling 
discussion of one of America’s more press 
ing social problems. Bur Senator Gravel's 
suident piece (Corporate Pushers, Sep- 
tember) is an exception. After a series of 
generalizations, the Senator concludes 
that the drug culture wi e il we 
halt the advertising of the big pharm: 
ceutical companies, Nonsense. Few prob- 
lems as big as drug abuse are amenable 


П col 


to such simple solutions. Bar 
amphetamines in Sweden, for example, 
has had no apparent elect on the 
simphetamine-abuse problem there. Nor 
has the ban on proprietary drug ad- 
vertising in Denmark had discernible 
impact on that nation’s llourisl 
problem. 
test of th 
d Levine studies at the National. In 


ning of 


stiute of Mental Health, which sug- 
gested that. physicians, if anything, tend 


to “err in the conservative directio 
when they prescribe psychoactive drugs. 
C. Joseph Sterler, President 
Pharmaceuticil. Manufa 
Association 
Washington, D. C. 


wers 


If the steet pusher had the drug firms" 
lobbyists and dollars, he could make his 
enterprise legal. Corporate pushing could 
пог exist were the state not involved in 
legislating morality. Bur the street pusl 
operates independently of the state 


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13 


PLAYBOY 


14 


and though he harms far fewer people 
than his corporate counter part, he suffers 
more. If street pushers had the power 
to lobby, we'd soon see the legalization 
of all dope. 


mes R. Leblanc 
Highland Park, Michigan 


In spite of Joel Fort's gs. in his 
introduction fo your drug package and 
elsewhere, United States policies regard- 
ng drugs have not been changed 5 
1 retired as commissioner of the Bur 


associates h ble to convince 
Congress ог state legislators that their 
policies are wrong. According to a report 

а 9 by Dr. Jules Bouquet, 
former director of the hospitals in Tu 
а, the continued use of mari 
leads to a mental institution. Morcov 
there will be no legalization of ma 
juana in the United States, be ich 
n action would violate treaties currently 
n effect. 


Harry J. Anslinger 
Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania 


David Standish's Stone Cold Fever 
(rLAYBOY, September), describing the 
agonies and the ecstasies of a junkie, 
s a work of art. I got started on drugs 
ictnam and went through two years 
of hassling before finally getting my head 
together enough to put them down е 
и d to follow, one 
Шаг totally uphill, I thank Sumdish 
Тог a factual and informative article. 


After reading Standish's Stone Cold 
Fever, my mind rushed back to the 
memory of my own arrival in New York 
in 1961, when 
Drugstore 
cr, wh 


I met a kid hustler in 
on 


42nd Street. 


d across 


grooves made by his knife, le 
suicide attempt months. befor 
17. A junkie. My fast. He is dead 
and D am saddened by the number of 
my friends, all of them decent people, 
who have died from scag, speed or God 
knows what poison. Sensitive to the sor- 
row or. to use a favorite word of Paul 
Goodman's, the anomie that sends one 
reeling into death, Standish has caught 


the junkies life and written а it 
beautifully. 

Dotson Rader 

New York, New York 


Rader is a political activist and chron- 
icler of the wnderworlds of dope and 
male prostitution. 


It seems ole junkie Gene Macey has 
contrived another clever way to obtain 
dope. After selling your body, swallow 
ing razor blades and “bugging out,” why 
not sell your story? 


Gerry Forwell 
‘Waterloo, Ontario 


None of your articles offers an analy- 
sis of why kids take dope. The Smart 
Set program. the antidrug youth organi 
ion of which 1 am president, docs 
come up with an analysis and offers 
a remarkable antidote that has been 
extremely successful in a great number 
of schools throughout the United States. 
Though our efforts have been put down 
by the experts as simplistic, 1 
port thar our methods are working. 1 
believe “educational” approaches—such 
as yours—spread the disease. 

Robert K. Squire 
Hollywood, California 


UMN MADNESS 

i al policies affect the selection 
ol PLAYBOY S preview All-America foot 
ball team (Playboy's Pigskin Preview, 
September) or is it just a coincidence 
that both the offensive and the defensive 
units are comprised of an equal number 
of black and white players? 

Terry L. Bourne 
Exeter, Ontario 


Pure coincidence. 


Your college football preview is a 
good example of the regional biases that 
attend such selections. 
assumption is that if 
(Ohio State) and a Big Eight te: 
(Nebraska) both go unbeaten, then the 
Big Ten champion must be the national 
champion. You do this in spite of the 
facts that Ohio State, except for a game 
with Michigan, has the biggest patsy 
schedule of any team in the country; and 
Nebraska must compete in the toughest 
conference in the country, an opinion 
attested to by your own selection of three 
Big Fight teams in the nation's top five. 

Many sportswriters still cling to the 
myth that the Big Ten is a powerful 
football conference. They do so in dis- 
regard of the reality that the Big Ten’s 
combined nonconference record last 
year was nine wins, 17 losses, one tie. 
They further ignore such evidence as 
Nebraska's present record of 11 straight 
victories over Big Ten foes and, until 
t year, the Big Eights record of 19 
straight wins over the Big Ten. Fur- 
thermore, in 1971, Big Fight teams I 
such recognized powers as Texas, LSU, 
Ohio State, Alabama and Auburn by an 
average of almost 18 points cach. On the 
basis of the evidence, I fail to see the 
logic of Anson Mount’s conclusion that 
a Dig Ten champion must be superior 
to a Big Eight champion. 

Butler D. Shaffer 
Omaha, Nebraska 


IRISH STEW 

I would like to compliment you on 
your September interview with Berna- 
dene Devlin. It not only documents the 
feelings of one of the world’s greatest 


women but effectively allows her to an- 

swer her critics and reveal the truc n 

ture of the conflict in Northern Ireland. 
Joseph F. Kubiak, Jr. 
Levittown, Pennsylvania 


Though I'm not Irish, reading your 
interview with Bernadette Devlin made 
me wish I were. My only regret is 1 
I've spent so much money on Time, 
Newsweck and other publications, when 
all I really needed to find out about my 
fellow rebels in Ireland was the Septem- 
ber PLavnov. 

Raymond R. Rumbolz 

Port Townsend, Washingtoi 


Your interview with Bernadette Devlin 
is the greatest. One hopes that the in 


justice and oppression in Vietnam 
Belfast will cease someday. There is basi- 
cally very little difference between the 


two. 


Pvt. David 
F 


A. Tiffany 
Hood, Texas 


I commend you for your courage in 
publi the Devlin interview. For 
some strange reasons—which may in- 
clude our economic ties with Engl 
or, who knows, even the North Atla 
Treaty Organization itself—it takes an 
enormous amount of pluck ro present 
the Irish side in its war of independ- 
ence. If this were 1775, I suspect that 
rtAYnoY would be the only publication 
willing to interview "Thomas Jefferson. 
His revolution didn't have the support 
of the "majority," either. And, come to 
think of it, the enemy was the same. 

Helen N. Harte 

Los Angeles, 


lifornia 


My Catholic Irish parents аге [rom 
st and can attest to the discrimina- 
tion carried on there. Everything Devlin 
ys is rue, even about the torturing of 
internces. My cousin was arrested in the 
middle of the night, not allowed to dress, 
and was not heard from for a month. He 
was not entitled to a tial or a lawyer, 
nor was he ever even charged. He was 
made to тип barefoot over stones and 
glass between two lines of clubbing sol- 
diers. After a year in jail, he has lost most 
of his teeth from malnutrition and is now 
losing his eyesight. Believe me, he has 
never been associated with the Т.К.А. His 
crime, it appears, is that he is Catholic. 
My unde was shot and killed, though he 
s defenseless. The Protestant press 
labeled him an "LR.A. terrorist.” 
Please keep the wuth coming. 

Nuala Ehlert 

Windsor, Ontario 


Despite what I've read in newspapers 
and seen on television. it took Eric Nor- 
den's interview with Devlin to make me 
realize that in a land famous for sham- 
nd leprechauns, there also exist 
bigotry, brutality, oppression, Sten guns 


rocks 


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PLAYBOY 


16 


and Molotov cocktails. Norden's intro- 
duction deserves special notice as an 
example of what our more typical news 
don't do—open our eyes. By re- 
porting all of the tiny scraps of informa- 
nd ears collected—from 
to the 
interview itscl[—Norden eases the re 
into the seething atmosphere of h 
that is N nd today. А com- 
mendable job. 


rald Harizmann 
Los Angeles, Calilornia 


You should be castrated for publish- 
ing Bernadette Devlin's jaundiced driv- 
cl I tust your interviewer positioned 
himself upwind of her during their 
exchange. Devlin feels that she truly 
represents the people she stands for. She 
does. In my opinion, not once has a 
truly constructive proposal come forth 
from her or her followers. Instead, they 
insist on rabblc-rousing orations. In fact, 
her physical assault on Home Secretary 


Maudling in the House of Commons 
earlier this year serves as а guideline to 
her mentality. In the meantime, her 


gibbe about “British oppression" 
are published while the murder and may 
hem provoked by the I.R.A. go on uncon- 
етпей. As a Britisher who doesn't 
want to be near this place, I say let the 
h take care of their own proble: 
(Name withheld by request) 
Bell Northern Trel 


1 want to share 
ceived from 


letter with you that 
my siserindaw, who 
Her husband, 


Y 
lives near Londonderr 
my brother, is stationed there. 


“If you read PLavnoy, please 
everything Bernadette Devi 
her interview. Everything she said 
I've seen what she talked about 
personally consider her a murderer. The 
British are the good guys, believe mc. 
The torcuring and murdering are done 
by the LR.A. They shot and killed 
ten-year-old girl while they were trying to 
murder a soldier; they beat a woman who 
was six months pregnant to a bloody 
pulp because she wouldn't hide them. If 
they find a Catholic girl dating a British 
guy, they beat her and pull all her hair 
out by the roots. Three bombs went off 
in the village next to ours in a half hour 
one day and killed ten people. I could 
go on 


eimnadeie Devlin is as b 
Hitler was. She has lived he 
off Brit 


her to school free. Right out of college. 
she became а member of P nd 
seis British pay. 

“I get so angry when I think of the 
news you hear and how distorted 
Members of the LRA. admit that they 
are Marxists who want to overthrow the 
capitals of Belfast, Dublin and London- 


deny. They do not have the people's 
welfare in mind. Most of the LR.As 
money comes from two places the 
United States and the newer Commu 
nist countries. I just wish the people 
in America realized what is really going 
on over here. It’s frightening." 
(Name and address 
withheld by request) 


Devlin is a paramount example of the 
ases of the trouble in Northern Ire 
and. Her intemperate views, her open 
support of the cimpaign of murder be- 
ing carried out by the LRA, and the 
distortions within her comments are a 
major part of the tragedy in that trou 
bled land. She offers no answer except 
union. She accuses the British troops of 
shooting children, while there is no evi- 
dence to support this charge. On the 
г hand, LRA. bombs have blown 
She accuses Britain of 
brutality in interrogating LRA 

necs, yet the only charge substanti 
by the Red Cross was that prisoners 
were kept disoriented and without sleep 
sometimes for 48 hours, She also claims 
that British searches have turned up few 
weapons or explosives, yet the fact is that 
searches during July 1972 


de- 


2 resulted in the 
seizure of over 13.000 pounds of explo- 
sives inside “no-go” areas. She mentions 
Bloody Sunday but ignores the paraffin- 
test evidence that 11 of the 13 dead had 
fired w inely before il 
deaths and that others had been seen 


aiming or carrying rifles. Neither docs 
she comment on Black Friday. when 


LRA. bombs killed the same number of 
people. ail of them civilians, 
both Protestants and Cathol 
finally, she calls Britain “fascist,” yet it 
was the Republic of Ireland that willingly 
provisioned Nazi submarines during 
World War Two, allowing them sale 
harbor from which to send American 
merchantmen and sailors to their deaths 
in the North Atlantic, 


J- M. McKenzie 
Ottawa. Ontario 

Your letter typifies the halfıruch and 
innuendo that seem to surround the Irish 
situation. Devlin’s accusation. that the 
British troops have shot children is sup- 
ported by the brutal reality of dead chil- 
dren, slain by British bullets; that the 
killings might have been unintentional 
makes them no less real, The torture of 
IRA. detainees has been amply docu- 
mented by nonpartisan sources, as the 
following letter makes clear. The par- 
liamentary investigation of Bloody Sun- 
day—the so-called Widgery Report, which 
was branded a whitewash by many LRA. 
partisans—revealed that only two of the 
13 who were killed could possibly have 
fired weapons. Devlin didn't comment on 
the searches of July 1972, nor the events 
of Black Friday, because both of these 
took place after our interview went to 


press; bul she did specifically condemn 
LR.A. terrorist tactics. And the notion 
that the Republic of Ireland provisioned 
N submarines is a recurrent rumor 
without a shred of authentication, 


ıt. Amnesty Interna 
la British-based organization, has 
ied charges of torture and ill trea 

ment in Northern Ireland. It is also uue 
that people were tortured who had not 


been convicted or even formally accused 
of any crime. This has been documented 
in our “Report of an Inquiry into Alle- 


which presents 30 cases of 
ssment, all of which 
in clear violation of the Uni 
Declaration of Human Rights. 
The report also concludes that it has 
not been helpful to the authorities in 
Northern Ireland to use such methods 
These techniques neither yielded a 1 
degree of reliable information nor 
they deter violence 

Dr. Amelia Augustus 

Executive Director 

Amnesty International of the 
U.S.A. 
ew, York, New York 


versal 


did 


ARLETT LETTERS 

Having lived in a 
town during my adolescent years, I can 
testify that Marshall Frady’s assessment 
ol Southern womanhood. in Skirmishes 
with the Ladies of the Magnolias 
(rLavnoy, September), accurately cap- 
tures the atmosphere of many small 
Southern colleges and towns The 
demands of administrators and towns 
people regarding "proper ladylike behav- 
ior" are all too often based on the 
continued idealization of the antebellum 
belle. 1 wholeheartedly agree with 
rady's disenchantment with the perpet- 
such attitudes, I hope that 
by ridiculing them, he will help modern 
Southern women realize that thi 
al for a full, happy life doc 
lic in their continued idealization, 

Mrs. Deborah Atnip 

Mississippi 


all Southern 


ion of 


г po- 
not 


“olumbu: 


Fr 
the Yankee ch 
journalists resid 
and Dixon linc. 

Argyle Cheswick H1 
Charlouesville, Virg 

Frady is the son of a Baptist preacher 
he was raised in Georgia and now lives in 
South Carolina. 


ady's article is a perfect example of 
t attitude taken by 
g north of the Mason 


Ladies of the 
few substantive 
rs old. As a 
Atlantan and 
jon-owners, T 
n belle is a 


Shirmishes with the 
Magnolias may have 
truths in it—about 15 у 
2l-yearold home grown 
a descendant of planta 
believe that Frady's South 


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PLAYBOY 


20 


dying breed. "Today's women know better 
than to exploit or waste their fermi 
powers over men or let their domineer- 
ing status-conscious mothers influence 
their li 


Anneite Smith 
Atlanta, Georgia 


SEMI-JENKINS 
Semi-Tough (Pravuov, September), 
your lead fiction on Billy Clyde Puck- 
eu’s Super Bowl against “them dog-ass 
Jets.” was undoubtedly the funniest sat- 
ive I have ever read. Jenkins’ blunt 
comic sense is tops. I thank him—and 
pravnoy—tor the fine stor 
Allen Searson 
Columbia, South Carolina 


The Fort Worth jock writer really 
wrote a lulu. The vernacular was beau- 
tiful. 


Jack Sean McCleneg 
Assistant Dean 
University ol Georgia 
Athens. Georgia 


n 


I very seldom read sporis stories, as 
the subject simply does not interest m 
But the minute I saw the opening pages 
of Semi-Tough by Dan Jenkins. I just 
couldn't pass it up, especially after those 
eyegrabbing drawings by Neal Adams. 

me comics fan, I have fol. 
ms through the pages of D. C. 
vel comics. and I've never been 
work. 
ven Metzger 
Columbia City. Indiana 


That is, to be sure, a picture of Dan 
ins you have on page three of your 
September issue, but it's the wrong one. 
Grammatically speaking, it is 1. The D. J. 
you had in mind is the one who 
senior editor of Sports Illustrated. and 
who wrote the admirable short story 
beginning on page 92 of that issue. One 
thing, though; lots of people are now 
thinking the Sports Illustrated Jenkins 
is a lot handsomer—not to mention 
younger—than he really is. 

Dan Jenkins 

Beverly Hills, California 


Mr. Herb Halter 
Chief Stud Hoss 
PLAYBOY 

Chicago, Illinois 


Dear Mr. Hafter: 

This is to take the liberty to inform 
you that somebody over there at that 
place you have, where all the dandy 
wool is, has hauled off and made an 
injustice to somebody 1 know. In what 
you call your September issue, somebody 
has printed a picture of my pal, Jim 
"Тот Pinch, under his real name of Dan 
ns, only it ain't the Dan Jenkins I 
now, Which is the fucker who writes 


books. He wrote my book of Semi- 
Tough, as a mauer of fucking fact. 

Of course, it probably doesn't really 
hurt anything, because the Dan Jenkins 
you primed in the picture looks a lot 
healthier than my pal, Jim Tom, who is 
pretty wool whipped of late. Anyhow, 
I thought Fd set you straight on which 
is which. Your Dan Jenkins used to 
write for TV Guide. My Dan Jenkins, 
who has nearly always had the same 
name, writes for Sports Illustrated when 
he's not helping me get my hands on 
pot full of whipout by writing 
mi Tough in what you call your novel 


fo: 


n. 
Good luck to you, Mr. Halter. And 
you can tell d foot Miss September 


that I know a couple of big ole boys 
who'd like to double-team her little ass. 
Billy Clyde Puckett 

New York. New York 

Our apologics, Billy Clyde, to you and 
to your mentor. One of our backs mis- 
read an audible and we came up with a 
broken “Playbill” The Jenkins of the 


un 


photo we тап now heads his own public- 
relations firm in Beverly Hills. Pictured 
above is the semi-tough Dan Jenkins, one 
woolwhipped mother if ever we saw one. 


SMOOTH FLIGHT 
Thank you, Tom Mayer and PLavnoy, 
for Staggerwing and Me (September), 
the best adventure story about flying 
Туе read. Irs exhilarating to read an 
autobiographical report by a person with 
ich a capacity for living as Mayer. Give 
Staggerwing a love pat for me. 
William M. McClellan 
San Diego. California 


Even todays space-age sophistication 
and computer technology have not suc 
ceeded in totally sterilizing the art of 
aned flight. As a pilot, L too, have 
on felt awed by my surroundings 
while flying and I thank Mayer for 
expressing those feelings so well 
pt. Gary L. Bridges, U.S. A. F. 
Charleston AFB, South Carolina 


The love affair with wings, wind 
weather that Mayer confesses in his arti 
de is one that is shared by hundreds of 
thousands of us. Hopefully, with Mayer’ 
keen ability to put the joyous expe 
of flight mto words, pilots will nod the 
heads and say, “Гуе been the 

ipilots will look skyward and say, " 
want to go." 


ft. Jr, President 

ft Owners and Pilots 
Associ 

Washington. D. С 


It is unfortunate that the increasing 
complexity of the air-transport system 
will eventually doom the freedom of pri 
vate flight. Each day. it will become more 
dificult to get airborne, climb a few 
thousand fect and thumb your nose at 
the people below. Perhaps we should 
start thinking now about establishing 
a flying preserve in which pilots сап 
enjoy the type of freedom. evoked. by 
Mayer. 

Donald E, Francke, Exec 

Air Traffic Control Asso 

Washington, D. C. 


tive Director 
ion 


Tom Mayer is either flying in his 
dreams or he is an accident about to 
pen. By publishing his article, you 
done general aviation a gross in- 
justice—especially in his boasting of 
flights made with a maximum of br 
vado and a minimum of judgment. The 
majority of general-aviation pilots ex- 
ercise extremely good judgment learned 
through hours of study and practical ex- 
ercises, These are the pilots who in 1970 
flew more than 26,000,000 hours in 
131,743 aircraft with a record that was. 
to quote the FAA, “the best safety year 
for general tion in a decade.” Articles 
such as } e that 
tion pilots are nutty, rich 
round the skies look- 
ing for an airliner to run into or buzzing 
the local girls’ school. 

George W. J. Howson, President 
General Aviation Promotions 
Fishkill, New York 


THE ILLUSTRATED BODY 
After reading and looking at Skinetic 
Art (вглувох, September), your feature 
on tattoos, I must say bravo. It is a great 
5 ‘action to know that more and more 
people are looking at tattoo’ 
art medium. As your pi 
shows, the designs are not ugly and the 
girls are far from barbaric. 
Richard Castleman 
Boston, Massachusetts 


LABOR'S LOVE LOST 

Geoffrey Norman's Blue-Collar Sabo- 
teurs (vLavnoy, September), w 
ported on working conditions at the 
Lordstown Vega plant, gives an excellent 
picture of factory life in America. I've 


RARE 
SCOTCH 


The Pleasure Principle. 


Have a Dickens 


of a Christmas | 


with Marley's ghost, 
Bob Cratchit, and Scrooge 
—all delightfully depicted 
on the very attractive 

J&B gift carton— 

yours at no extra cost. 


B6 Prot Blended Scotch Whisky © 1972 Paddington Corp. N.Y. 


Our new SX-727. 
So much forso little. 


If youthinkthat value is an abstraction, 
you'll change your mind when you 
see and hear the new Pioneer SX-727 
AM-FM stereo receiver. Comparison 
proves it has greater power, 
performance, precision, features and 
versatility than any similar priced 
receiver. 

Looking behind its power rating — 
195 watts IHF, 40 + 40 watts RMS at 
8 ohms,.both channels driven — you 
find a direct-coupled amplifier and 
dual power supplies. The result is 
cénsistent power throughout the 
20-20,000 Hz bandwidth for improved 
transient, damping and frequency 
responses, with low, low distortion. 

You're in complete command of 
the FM dial, even in congested areas. 
New and advanced FET/IC circuitry 
has substantially improved sensitivity 
and selectivity. Reception is crystal 
clear and free of interference. 

There's a wide range of connec- 
tions for turntables, tape decks, 
headphones, microphones, and even 


4-channel. You can connect three 
speakers, which are protected against 
damage by an exclusive, new Pioneer 
safeguard system. Additional features 
include: loudness contour, high & low 
filters, FM and audio muting, click- 
stop tone controls, ultra wide FM 
tuning dial, dual tuning meters, mode 
lights and an oiled walnut cabinet. 
Sensibly priced at $349.95, the 
SX-727 is one of Pioneer's new line of 
four ‘margin of extra value’ receivers. 
The others are SX-828, SX-626 and 
SX-525, designed for both more 
luxurious and more modest budgets. 
Hear them all at your Pioneer 
dealer today. 
U.S. Pioneer Electronics Corp., 
178 Commerce Road, 
Carlstadt, New Jersey 07072 
West: 13300 S. Estrella Ave., 
Los Angeles, Calif. 90246 
Canada: S. H. Parker Co., Ontario 


YPIONEER’ 


when you want something better 


experienced the same treatment the 
workers at Lordstown have been protest- 
What people don't understand is 
that an assembly line that speeds up 
unrealistically misses some u his 
piles up repairs along the line, which 
overworks the repairmen until the linc 
eventually shuts down. In response, the 
supervisors send the workers home; and 
when the worker gets his abbrev 
thanks to i 
е builds up a 
in turn, hurts production 


ansville, Indiana 


Blue-Collar $ 
ple questions: Why do 
put in more hours tl 
when there arc so m g 
for jobs? Why can’t a man spend an 
hour welding, then an hour sanding? The 
Because this would conflict with 
25 orthodox approach to manage 
ment and not, as one executive asserts, be 
cause monotony is essential to efficiency. 
David Fein 
n А 


oleurs asks some sim 
orkers have to 


answe 


Norman has definitely put it all to- 
gether! I am an employee of General 
Motors in Dayton. Our situation over 
the past 18 months was solved by the 
employees’ having to take a wage cut, 
forced upon us by the fat cats in De 
troit. 1, along with all the dudes 
who work here, sympathize with any 
one who works on an assembly line 
in any General Motors plant. The work 
is hard, monotonous aud dangerous. 1 
would like to sce С. M.'s executives try 
to work a line job—or any job in the 
factory—for just one day. Maybe then 
their asinine attitudes toward the work- 
ingman would change a bit. 

Robert R. Hudnall 
Dayton, Ohio 


STUDENT AFFAIRS 
Student Bodies (PLaywoy, Septem 
bet), your pictorial essay оп campus 
nudity, was a delightful turm-on. IE I 
could just think of something to do with 
my husband and our two small children, 
I'd return to college full time 
Mrs. То 
San Mateo, California 


Lagerloef 


1 hope that you'll continue to picture 


all of us as we are and that you don't Jet 
any blucnose change your polic 
jenbach 
Inglewood, Californi 


I wish to compliment your handling 
of the article on campus nudity. Nudity 
of course, a part of the everyday lives 
of most students. When treated. casually, 
it promotes sincerity in relationships 
between ind Is or groups. Hence, 


IS THE OLD 


КОММ 


You've had some good times. 

But the old ticker ain’t what it used to be. 

It slows up, it stops, it makes you realize you 
need something new. 

But instead of a new ticker, what you need is 
something that tells time a whole other way: 
A hummer. 

It has no mainspring or balance wheel that 
can make tickers tick too fast or too slow. 


Ak gold filled case with matching textured band. D. 
оп symbol design throughout. Date resets instanth 
о te resets instantly. $300. Accutron Darc/D. 
styles from $11 


$750. Accutron As 


TICKER 


Instead, it has a tuning fork movement 
that’s guaranteed to keep it accurate to within a 
minute a month* And it keeps accurate to 
within a minute a month, month after month. 

So when it came to naming our hummer, 
we had no problems. 

We just started with the word “Accurate” 
and procceded from there, 


ACCUTRON®BY BULOVA 


Accutron Date/Day "ВН". 14k solid воМ case and 
Mark И "К". 14k solid gold case. Tells time in two time 


‘ous hands and markers. Date resets instantly. $185. Other 


resets insta 0 


stainless steel: Lu 


‘Timekeeping will be adjusted to this tolerance, if necessary. if returned to Accutron dealer from whom purchased within one year from date of purchase. 


PLAYBOY 


24 


Freeze-a-skier 


Not all 35mm roflex cameras let 

you move fast enough tu catch the 

action. When you look away to 
st the camera, your skier is 
the hill. So is your picture. 


With a Minolta SR-T 101, 
the exposure indicators are 
ht there inside the 
viewfinder. So you can 
frame, focus, make 
your adjustments, 


Minolta 25mm тейек ce 


is In workmanship and 
licted damage, The camera will 


warranty |, Postpaid, securely packaged 


and (Schuss) get the shot. 

Minolta 35mm single lensreflex 
cameras start at about $250. The 
Minolta SR-T 101 (shown) starts 
around $300 with £/1.7 lens. 

For literature, write Minolta Cor- 
poration, 200 Park Ave. So., New 

York, N.Y. 10003. 
In Canada: 
Anglophoto 


'as are werranted by Minolta 
material: lor two vear: jrom date of purchase, er 

viced at no charge provided U їз returned within the 
including 32. 


for mailing, handling and Insurance. 


artide thar 


treats this subject 
campus life. 


Knoxville, Tennessee 

Balls at last! We are not a country 
ol eunuchs. 

Barbara Ho 

South Amba 


At first, E thought pictor 
campus nudity. paniculirly the photos 
ol dom and fraternity life m Lake 
Forest and Stanford. was a satire along 


the lines of Little Annie Fanny. After 
convincing myself that. you were serious 
Y 


my reaction wa must be kidding 
I am a student and do not consider 
myself nor the institution that 1 attend 
conservative or abnormally out of the 


swing of things. The photos depicting 
coed living are so obviously contrived 
that they're ludicrous. 1 realize var 
scenes such as these do occw—both ou 
and off cimpus—but my objection is to 
your publication’s suggestion that this is 
the normal lile style of а coed dorm or 
fraternity. 


Robert L. Little 
Charlottesville, Virginia 


T knew that there was a reason for the 
ibsence of riots оп the campuses these 
past couple of years, Whit fool would 
risk expulsion Irom a coed dorm? 

John R. Valentine 
Benson, Arizona 


A penis in praynoy—ye Gods! 
Catherine Salas 
Suffolk, England 


1 fully realize that there are, on 
most campuses, males ay well as fer 
Bur Гуе always considered PLAYBOY 
magazine lor men and 1 [eel vou 
demeaned yourself by publishing. pho 
tographs showing fully exposed male 
nudes. HS not that 1 have anything 
against penises, but I would like to have 
my magazine contain just the beautiful 
vis and the fantastic articles that 
you've always presented. Women have 
their magazines, Ms, Cosmopolitan. ov 
whatever, but men such as I who buy 
and read PLAvHoy deserve better 
Backin 
t Lake Uuh 

This isn't the {пм time weve pub 
lished photographs of male genitalia, 
although carliey depictions may have 
been less obvious. Our decision to be 
more explicit was based on the belief 
that our readers, because of their grow 
ing familiarity with complete nudity of 
both sexes in other media, were ready to 
accept the same in viaynoy. However, 
we can assure you (hat vıayuov's lenses 
will, as always, continue to be focused 
primarily on the female. 


Galliano is distilled from the rays of the 
sun; so perhaps it would help to describe 
the taste as, simply, golden. 
But the tall bottle of golden Galliono 
makes a splendid gift. It isn’t the thought 
that’s sentimental. 

It’s the gift of gold behind it. E 

) 
\ 


Do you think the gift of golden 
Galliono is too sentimental? 

Perhaps it is. 

The taste of Galliano is decidedly 
romantic, with overtones of baroque Old 
World richness 

According to the Italian legend, 


— unum 


80 PROOF LIQUEUR, IMPORTED BY McKESSON LIQUOR CO.. NEW YORK, N.Y & McKESSON LIQUOR CO. 1969 


PLAYBOY 


26 


TOM SHAW- 
Ахсо Open Champion 1969 
Doral Open Champion 1969. 
Hawaiian Open 
‘Champion 1971 
Bine Crosby National 
Pro-Am Champion 1971 
Touring Professional. 
Imverrary Country Club 


“Since I Have To 
Get Dressed 
Twice A Day, 

I Might As Well 
Do It Right!” 


“Matter of fact, once you've seen 
yourself in a pair of Sansabelt II 
No-Quit Knits by Jaymar you'll know 
what I'm talking about. What's more, 
you'll feel the unbelievable comfort 
of Sansabelt 1175 3-way stretch web- 
bing at the waist. There's never been 
a slack that gives more. More com- 
fort, more fashion, more confidence!" 


Sansabelt IT No-Quit Knit Slacks by 
Jaymar are fashioned of 1007; Da- 
cron®, the big name in the automatic 
wash and dry polyesters. In any num- 
ber of great colors and patterns. For 
оп the greens or on the go. And in 
these days when you always scem to 
pay more for less, Sansabelt Il is the 
slack to slip into when you want 
to step out! 


Incidentally, ask your favorite retailer 
about the Sansabelt 1I guarantee. 
Jaymar-Ruby, Inc., Michigan City, 
Indiana 46360. 


C 


SANSABELT ТГ 


a JAYMA R'sacK 
of 1005% DACRON ® 
Made by people who care for people . бо care* 


m. 


Sansabelt I1 Slacks shown $30. 
Other Sansabelt II Slacks from 526. 


@ DuPont's reg. Т.М. 
© 1972 Jaymar-Ruby, Inc. 


Jaymar Slacks available at these and 5,000 other fine stores coast to coast . . . 


panana 
BYTE Loyemanss al Stores 
hunnie ifs Al Stores 
fonti. 555 
ps ‘dain teres 


Montgomery 
Montgomery 


ALASKA 
БЕ 


E 
Prora “Smits Eig Town stores 
Pron por 
КЕЗ inre 
Phoeai Smitys Bie Town Stores 
Sesioa émis Б 
Temra бено е, 
Tieton Bn 


ARKANSAS 
Het formes 


pee 
prm 
ES unt 
Es 
(rie 


Herrer Cantera |. „ Manes 
à ў 
EE 


гече Kaun 
San Bernareine візе ter Men 
San Franc) Howard 


АР Stor 
San Jose o En omas А! Sion 
Southern Calorna. Maris & Frank 
Southern California. Siverwoods 


EX ES 
erue еа 
EEE 


Tramp. 
Waterbury y. 
Wet a lard nies 
уйме Levigen's Men Shep 
DELAWARE 

етик Jack Lang clothes 
Ponnsaunen | “Jack Lang Си: 
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p 


визттет or cOLUMEIA 
Washington George & Co-Big & 

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washington Woodward & Lolhrep 


Fromm 
Tal a Бє Ner's Sheps-A Stores 
отме 
Mm 

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Nam: Beach Larzons styles For 


солса 
Апта, Muse's-Al Stores 
Аша °°. чан Я 
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Setar: 
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acu 


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Idaho Fails 
Era 


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gum 
[1-4 
ер 


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бека 


Тт Leonard Store For Men 
тро рук 


ГЕТА 
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Pers Trie Bei Cetin & shoe 
Movie Al Stores 
‘All Stores 


жое м. Hyman Sen 


mon 


Сото ater 
[id ЕЯ 


pond 
Inatanapaız 


Palace Clothiers 


ne 


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Bes Monet 


Sioux City 


[аныз 
Olan Park 
Overland Park 


зө Vilan. 


Topeka 
Tapeka i. éunningham Bieta 
wados 

i es Eres 
[rd p 


Louisiana 


New Orleans. 


n 
E ud 
E ran 


marviano 
туте Hamburgers-Ai Stores 
Baltimore Mai Marois 

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Baltimore... Stewart's А Stores 


iir tl Stimson Dept Store 
атана Bemareie tie, 
ТЗ [7 
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p 
MASSACHUSETTS. 
Kenney saul Store 
ansehe ai! Stores 
Cheste ни on 


Ponens 
Куат 
Куз 
weite 
cy 

E 

EU 
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En] 
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pope 
Westesior * "вуз OF Park hve! 


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Detroit 


petes 
Шеол 
енш 
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Crang ара, 
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WE карш 


E 

Жет ioc Mat ретш 

van Hrs АЙ Seres 
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minnesota 
Bulan маки 
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m 
Ein 
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аА 
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ice 
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imum. 


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Каа: Cuy hones ston 
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Rochester Kennedys 


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National Сюй Co 
A Stores 

pe 


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йөзде .""Styiecrest Men's 


NORTH CAROLINA 


gue 


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m" 
High Bani 
Rearenese сау 


БЕК" ne bun uf aig ЙЛ 
Fein Hudson MeN Eo. i 


трат 
Winston ет Hine ван 
[: 


Winston Saturn. Frank IS 


nonm osnova 
Beknson O'Hearns 
Straus со per 

Straw ce 


Cincinnati 
БЕН 


Eum a ЕИ 
Columbus E Sunnas 


oles 
Toledo 

E 
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n NARS 


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Н 


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Menace Wagner Вета 

carton Mens Sheps 
i Verr 


RES 
68 


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Peerless Ce. hu Sigres 

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SOUTH DAKOTA 


— 
Cratiarooga Tra Trivers 
por ытын 
fumum Pii 
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Метр 
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Wetton. Leeper, 
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штан 2 
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27 


SMIRNOFF VODKA, 


Ше] 
9 


ae 
The 
Midnight Brunch. | @ C7 4 NI 
Some of us would rather 2. » — | 
spend the momingsleepingthan M i 


eating. So why not have brunch 
at midnight? We tried it at the. 


end of a recent happy evening EN 

and discovered there's some- j = 

thing deliciously crazy about Ў 
having breakfast before bed. To make a Bloedy Mary, shake 


with ice 1% oz. Smimoff, 3 oz. 
tomato juice, # tsp. lemon juice, 
Worcestershire, salt and pepper. 


If you're the kind of person 
who never gets hungry in ihe 
moming, you might like to try a 
Midright Brunch. Bloody Marys 
and all. leaves you breathless? 


PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


bout the time you were c 
making love." urges the suave 
voice on the phone 
"Well," s ау. 22, of Millbrae, Cali- 
fornia, * parked in the back seat 
of a ca z fun—ha, ha—and I 
opened my eyes and there was the bi 
gest badge on the biggest highway patrol- 
man I ever saw. Well, Im quick-witted 
enough. T said. ‘Youre no better than 
anyone else. Take a number and ger in 
line.’ He got in his car and drove away. 
Now, what would young 
middle-dass nymph to participate in a 
semiobscene phone conversation with a 
stranger? The newest and lustiest of 
radio formats, that’s what: the 
only, sex-only, phone-in talk show, The 
eméce is Don Chamberkin of San 
rancisco’s KNEW, and the show is 
alifornia Girls. Each day. from ten till 
two, there's a dillerent topic, such as 
Do you have more than one affair 
going at this time?" Chamberlain. bor- 
vowed the idea from а d.j. named Bill 
Ballance, who conlected a program called 
Feminine Forum ou KC in Los An- 
eles almost two years Since. Bal- 
p show, his station 
has shot skyward in the highly com- 
petitive Los Angeles market, which is 
glutted with 77 radio stations. Chamber- 
lain isn't doing badly, cither: He says he's 
getting 200 letters a day—and lots of 
commercials for Undulator Water Beds 


ight 
male 


possess 


women 


lance began his sex 


and Passion Poop Pillows. 
On another day, Chamberlain's subject 
“The most unusual place you ever 
love” "In a bathtub filled with 
ILO,” replied a cheery food freak 
named Karen, The favor (Don always 
presses for intimate detil) was wild 
cherry. Vickie, 22, from 
said: "In a bed while it w 
pot so carried away we didi 
the beddothes were in Il 
t the grand prize on that day had 
to go to a second Vickie, 18, of Marin 
County. "On a motorcycle in a gas sta- 
tion," she sa 
“Why a motorcycle, Vickic?" Gham- 
berlain asked, sighing audibly, but ever 
nter, 


made 


. We 
t notice that 


james. 


the inquiring re] 


“well, we happened to be sitting on 
it,” she said. 

Chamberkı has been married 
three times aud. has a gruff but sympa- 
thetic voice that gives him the tone of 
an avuncular Sam Spade, is not above 
egging the girls on (“They all want to 
take you to the feathers, (hen?”), though 
few “need encouragement, A bigger 
problem with the California girls is 
that they get too explicit, When this 
happens, Don cuts in with a stock lin 
Girls. use a little class, show a Tittle 
discretion, but be imaginative." When 
they get so carried away as to resort 
to what Don calls “four-letter Anglo- 
Saxon words,” he uses more drastic meas 
ures. For example, when someone says 
1 caught my girllriend in bed with 
my boyfriend and they were—-" Don 
takes advantage of the seven-second de- 
lay and hits the Kill button, which starts 
an echochamber таре: “CENSORED! 
CENSORED! NSORED! 

A different day's question was "Have 
you told cach other about your sex 
life?" One girl confessed that not only 
did her husband tell her about his sex 
life with other girls but she was there 

"Who was " asked Don 
breathlessly 

"My sister,” she replied, regaling him 
with the tale of how the three of them 
ended up in the sick. “I didn't enjoy it 
100 much "Then we did 
it a second time with another girl," 

“Who was it this time? 

“Му second sister.” 

The following day, the subject was 
“Ihe meanest thing you ever did to a 
Janet, 23, said she once set fire to 
the hair in her husband's armpits, "We 
e to play jokes on each other like that.” 
There seem to be intimations of the 
in the program—girls feel- 
ing guilty about cheating or group 
balling but making a dean breast of it 
to Father Don. Even his customary 
farewells have an aura of absolution: 
"You're gonna have a nice life, Кашу, 
Bobbing merrily atop this diurnal sea of 
crotica, Don hardly arches 
although he confesses that he’s not yet 


who 


the gir 


she went on 


man.” 


confessios 


"brow, 


nc 


completely inhibitionless. “1 haven't yet 
found a way to come to grips with 
masturbation.’ 


Our Far-Out Award for 
Flashes on the Drug Front goes 
month to the United States Army. As 
The New York Times had it, in a three 
year study of over 700  hash-smoking 
soldiers, it was found that “heavy users. 
who consumed the equivalent of up to 
200 marijuana cigarettes a day, suffered 
variety of ill effects, including a 
chronic intoxicated state, characterized 
by apathy, dullness and lethargy with 
mildto severe: impairmer 
concentration and memory 


We suppose it had to happen. Ray 
is. the nude chef at Toronto's 
Mynah Bird strip house, mentioned here 
in July. has sullered an occupational 
accident. He spilled some hot vegetable 
soup on the most sensitive portion of 
his anatomy and had to be taken to a 
hospital for emergeneyroom treatment 
We assume he is covered by workmen's 
compensation—if nothing else 

You bet your lile 
shed won her round on a TV quiz 
show, a Sydney, Australia, woman col 
lapsed onstage and died of a heart at- 
tack. The producers of the show assured 
grieving family that they would be 


After being told 


ven a copy of the film—to show how 
happy she was when she expired. 

According to the Lynn, Massachusetts, 
Daily Evening Item, the Loew's Danvers 
Theater is showing Prime Cunt. 


Northcote Parkinson Department 
y Mouse Division: In response to 
Admiral Zumwalt direct- 
ing Navy personnel to find out which 
paperwork. forms they think are unnec- 
essary, the 12h Naval District, head- 
quartered in San Francisco, has issued a 
perwork Necessity Inquiry Form. 


[v 
Mic 
an order 


from 


This situations-wanted ad, from the St. 
Louis County Star, should make happy 


29 


PLAYBOY 


30 


holidays for some: “Ladies, is your hus- 
band too busy to take care of those Ише 
things? Always gone when you need him? 
Make those drab days bright, Call Bill 
and let him fill those holes and cracks 


your husband hasn't got time for. . . . Pay 
only what you feel it's worth.” 
Writ large in the front window of the 


Paulist Fathers Genter in Boston is the 
old religious exhortation REPENT AND ВЕ 
savep, Then, in smaller letters under- 
neath: IF YOU HAVE ALREADY REPENTED, 
PLEASE DISREGARD THIS MESSAGE. 


from the Cleveland 
Plain Dealers Sunday magazine, in a 
feature on the German sport of finger 
wrestling: “The men. who have become 
pretty good in Вау it yanking one 
another's joints, spend many hours 
building up their finger muscles by pull- 
ing at whatever happens to be handy.” 


Plain speak 


A promotional letter from Gloria Stei 
пет” Als. nx e states that " “Mis: 
nd "Mrs" define us according to our 
relations| i men. If ‘Mr’ is 
enough to indicate male, then "M 
enough to indicate female." The | 
was sent to. Mrs. John Gyorgy of V 
mington, Delay 


In Durban, South Africa, vice-squad 
detectives purchased what was supposed- 
ly a bluc movie. When it turned out to 
be a newsreel of an Apollo moon land- 
ing, they arrested. the film's. under-the- 
counter purveyor, who was fined $133 
for fraud. 


“The Jack Frost Ski Shop in Jackson, 
New Hampshire, has found an appropri- 
ate spot for the required sign about 
priceceiling information. 105 on the 
ceiling. 


We're not sure if the Democratic Vice- 
Presidential candidate was intentionally 
indulging in campaign mudslinging, but 
it has come to our attention that the fol- 
lowing headline appeared in the San 
Rafael, California, Independent-Journal: 
“SHRIVER! NIXON HAD VIET PIECE IN HIS. 
LAP IN "ss," 


‘The computerized personal letter has 
added a new wrinkle to the junk-mail 
business, but nat without occasional me- 
chanical lapses. Accord 
umnist Paul Crume, а 
received а letter from a Cleveland corre- 
spondence school addressed to—and s 
luting "Mr, Melrose Drive Church of 
Chris” The letter capped a glowing 
description of the school's virtues with 
a ringing peroration that might have 
changed Western civilization—it only 


“Mr. Christ, 
п a dead-end, 


Is had been faster 
don't waste your life 
low-paying job." 


Herb Caen's San Francisco Chronicle 
column reports that a youngster, hospi- 
talized after a knee operation, wired Joe 
Namath: "1 HAVE A NAMATH-TYPE KNEE IN- 
JURY. PLEASE ADVISE ABOUT SEX LIFE WHILE 
IN A cast.” The reply: "IF YOUR KNEE 
LAYS SUCH A BIG PART IN YOUR SEX LIEF, 
YOU'RE IN REAL TROUBLE. BROADWAY JOE.” 

Promoters of а blood-bank 
Delaware came up with a novel gimmick: 
to every donor, two free tickets to sec the 
play Dracula. 


drive 


Deputy of Internal Affairs? During a 
newscast introducing the newly appoint- 
cd members of Premier Pierre Мете 
government to French television viewe 
the government-run broadcasting com- 
у inadvertently included in the group 
of photographs the picture of а national 
ly sought sex maniac. 
om the Waukegan, Illinois, News 
Sun, we found out why they blew up 
that publichousing high-rise at the 
Pruitt-Igoe project in St. Louis. It scems 
the explosion was part of "an experi- 
mental program by the Federal Govern- 
ment to sce if buildings cin be made 
more livable for tenants.” 


At the University of New Mexico's 


freeuniversity program, a course called 
Women and Their Bodies was post- 
poned. A note on the bulletin board 


nounced: “Classes will start when the 
materials arrive." 


No hard feelings: A personalized 
license plate seen in Stockton, Califor- 
nia, reads simply Naper. The cara 
Chevrolet Согу 


In a review of an Isaac Hayes concert, 
the Mobile, Alabama, Press Registe 
criticized. Hayes for an overly dramatic 


entrance—then went on, much more 
dra ly. to record that "the band 
cooked mercilessly, mellowing out on 


the chorus to allow Hayess smooth-as- 
silk organ to come up. 


We've heard of rolling up the side- 
walks, but 1 ulous: Signs along 
main thoroughfares in Cicero, llinoi: 
warn that during snowfalls of three inches 
Or More, STREET MUST BE CLEARED OF ALL 
VEHICLES OR BE TOWED AWAY. 


Alexander Solzhenitsyn is Russia's 
greatest contemporary novelist, the man 
whom Yevgeny Yevtushenko — (inter- 
viewed in this issue) has called “our 
greatest living classic.” He was first im- 
prisoned for eight ycars in a Stalinist 
labor camp; while there, was stricken 


with cancer that has never been cured; 
was banished to Siberia for three more 
years; and, since 1964, has been subjected 
to a campaign of harassment, intimida- 
lion and vilification that has grown mor 
intense every year. And through it all, de- 
spite mg conditions that would, 
in the words of one American critic, 
"drive mast of us 10 madness or suicide,” 
Solzhenitsyn has produced one maste 
piece after another: “One Day in the 
Life of Ivan Denisovich" (his only novel 
published in the Soviet. Union). “The 
First Circle,” “Cancer Ward” and, most 
recently, “August 1914,” which has been 
compared to Tolstay's “War and Peace.” 
His works banned at home, deprived of 
most income, barred from doing research, 
Solzhenitsyn continues not only to write 
but to stand alone against the machin- 
ery of the Soviet slate. He was awarded 
the Nobel Prize in 1970 but could not 
travel lo Stockholm, for fear of not 
being allowed to return. The following 
excerpts ате taken from his undelivered 
acceplance speech, which was recently 
smuggled out and published by the 
Nobel Foundation. It is more than 
an acceplance speech: It is a plea for 
the rest of us to listen, from a man 
who, without question, has the right to 
make that plea. 

In order to mount this platform from 
which the Nobel lecture is read, 1 have 
climbed three or four makeshift 
steps but hundreds and even thousands 
of them: unyielding, precipitous, frozen 
steps, leading out of the darkness and 
cold where it was my fate to survive, 
while others—perhaps with a greater 
gift and stronger than I—have perished. 

Of those others, 1 myself met but a 
few [at the correctivelabor-camp head- 
quarte] on Gulag, that archipelago 
shattered. and fragmented into a multi- 
tude of islands. Beneath the millstone of 
spying and mistrust, 1 did not talk to 
them all; of some 1 only heard, of others 
I could only guess. Those who fell into 
that abyss already bearing а literary 
name are at least known, but how many 
were never recognized, never once men- 
tioned in public? 

Virtually no one managed to return. 
A whole nat literature remained 
there, cast into oblivion not only without 
a grave but without even underclothes, 
naked, with a number ged to its toe. 
Russian literature never. broke through, 
not evt nd to the out- 
side world it seemed а wasteland. Where 
a peaceful forest could have grown, 
there remained, after all the felling, two 
or three trees overlooked by chance. 

Frequently, in painful camp secthings, 
in a column of p rs, when chains of 
lanterns pierced the gloom of the eve- 
ning frosts, we would feel well up inside 
us the words we should like to ery out, 


wor 


not 


ed, 


iso 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health 


PLAYBOY 


if the world could just hear one of us. 
And when at last the outer pressure 
grew a little weaker, our horizon broad- 
ened and gradually, through a tiny 
crack. we saw and knew the rest of the 
world, To our amazement, the world 
was not as we had hoped: we saw, instead, 
а world where some weep unconsolable 


tears and others dance to a lighthearted 
musical. 
There are at least several scales of 


values in the world: one for evalu 
events near at hand, another for events 
far away: aging societies poses one, 
young societies another; successful people 
one, unsuccessful people ус: anothc 
The divergent scales of values scream in 
discordance, they dazzle and daze w 
and to avoid the pain, we wave 
other values but our own. Everything 
is farther away, that does not 
threaten very day то invade our 
threshold—with all its groans, its stilled 
cies, its destroyed lives. even if it claims 
millions of victims—this we consider on 
the whole to be perfectly bearable and 
of tolerable proportions. 

Yet we cannot reproach human vision 
for this duality, lor this dumfounded 
incomprehension of another man's dis- 
tant grief man is just made that way. 
But the whole of mankind, now 
compressed into a single lump, such 
mutual incomprehension presents the 


for 


threat of imminent violent destructio! 


One world, one mankind cannot exist in 
the [ace of six, four or even two scales of 
values: We shall be тоги apart by 
of rhythm, this dispar 


Bur who will coordinate these value 
scales. and how? Who will make clear to 
mankind what is wuly heavy and in 
tolerable, and what only grazes the ski 
locally? Propaganda. constra i 
ic proof—all arc useless. But 
there does exist such a me: 
world. That means is art. Tha 
literature. 
nd literature] possess a wonder- 
ty: Despite distinctions of lan- 
guage, custom, social structure, they 
the life experience of one whole 
nation to another. They describe 
one s harsh trial and spare the 
other nation from an unnecessry, or 
mistaken, or even disastrous course. 
thereby curtailing the meandering of 
human history. And literature conveys 
irrefutable condensed experience in yet 
ther invaluable direction: from gen- 
. Thus it becomes 
tion. 


cou 


ving memory of a 
But woe ro that nation whose litera- 
e is disturbed by the intervention of 
power. Because that is not just a viola- 
tion against “freedom of print.” It is the 
closing off of the heart of the nation, a 
ing to pieces of its memory. Silent 
generations grow old and die without 


ever having talked about themselves, ci 
other or to their descend- 


ther to cad 
ants, When such masters as [poet Ann 
Akmarova and [satirist Yevgeny] Za 
е interred alive and condei 
to create in silence until they die, nev 
hearing the echo of their written words, 
then that is mot only their personal 
tragedy but a sorrow to the whole nation, 
a danger to the whole nation. 

In some cases, moreover. when as a 
result of such a silence the whole of 
history ceases to be understood 
entirety, it is 
mankind 

The world is bei 
brazen conviction th 
anything. justice nothing. Dostoicvsky's 
devils—supposedly a provincial, nigh- 
marish fantasy of the last cemury—are 
crawling across the entire world in front 


inundated by the 
t power сап do 


of our very eyes. infesting countie 
where they could never have bc 
med of. And by means of hijackings, 


explosions and fires of ic 
cent years, they announcing. their 
mination to shake and destroy civ 
n. And they may well succeed. 
The you e when they 1 
ot yet any experience other 
wal, when they do not yet have yea 
personal suffering 
standing behind the 
g our pointless Russi 
19th Century, under the 
sion that they are discovering 
ew. With a shallow lack of understand- 
cold essence, in the 
ice of inexperienced hearts, 
Let us get rid of those cruel, 
greedy opprewors and rulers, and once 
our grenades and rifles have been laid 
aside. the new ones (we) will be just 
wd understanding. . . . And among 
those who have lived longer and under 
stand, among those in a position to 
contradict the young, most are afraid to 
contradict and even act obsequiously— 
anything not to appear conservative. 
The timid civilized world has found 
nothing with which to oppose the on- 
slaught of a sudden revival of barcfaced 
barbarity, other concessions and 
smiles. The spirit of Munich, which has 
by no means retreated into the past, 
sickness of successful people. It is the 
daily condition of those who have given 
themselves up 1o the thirst after pros 
perity at any price, to material well-being 
s the chief goal of earthly existence 
Such people—and there are many in 
today's world—elect passivity and retreat, 
just so their accustomed life might 
bit longer, just so ay not to step over the 
threshold of hards 
row, you'll see, it will be all right. (But it 
will never be all right. The price of cow- 
rdice will simply be that much harsher. 
We shall reap courage and victory only 
when we dare to make sacrifices.) 


blunders 


ind's 


What, then, is the place and role of the 
writer in this cruel, dynamic, explosive 
world on the brink of its ten destruc- 
tions? After all, we have nothing to do 
with letting off rockets; we do not even 
push the lowliest handcarıs; we are 
quite scorned by those who respect only 
material power. But a writer is not the 
detached judge of his compatriots and 
ics. He is an accomplice to 
Ш the evil committed in his native land 
or by his countrymen. And if the tanks 
of his fatherland have flooded the as 
phalt of a foreign capital with blood. 
then the brown drops have spattered the 
face of the writer forever. And if hi 
young compatriots breczily announce 


contempo 


their. preference for depravity over ho 


est work, if they give themselves over to 
seizing hostages or taking drugs. then 
their stink mingles with the breath of 
the writer. 

Shall we have the temerity to declare 
that we are not responsible for the 
sores of today's world? 

There атс no internal affairs left in 
our crowded world. Mankind’s sole sil 
vation lies in everyon ing every 


mal 


thing his business: in the people of the 
East’s being vitally concerned with what 


is thought in the West, the people of the 
West vi ed with what gocs 
on 


not live alone able of 
living alone: It woven 
with falsehood. it be 
come strong, firmly established, than it 
senses the rarefaction of the air around 
it and Gumot continue to exist without 
descending into a fog of lies, clothing 
them in sweet talk. 

But writ па artists can conquer 
falsehood. One word of truth shall out 
weigh the whole world. And it is here 
оп an imaginary fantasy. a breach of the 
law of conservation of mass and energy 
that I base both my own activity and my 
appeal to the writers of the whole 
world. 


and is not сар 
ly inr 


necessa 


o sooner docs 


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Dean Acheson (more responsible than 
even John Foster Dulles for America's 
plunge into disaster) to Walt Rostow, 
Halberstam reveals the casts of mind of 
the elite cadre of Cold War religionists 
“for whom the enemy is not simply the 
Communists but everything else, its own 
press, its own judiciary, its own Con 
gress." Trained to lead, intoxicated by 
access to power, the "best and brightest" 
from prestigious banks, law firms 
universities could not even cona 
asking by what right America was sav 
ing Vietnam in order to save it. 
after all, was the American Century, and 
what was good for America was auto 
matically good for the preservation. of 
tue civilization. Brilliant but not wise, 
tough and therefore not “sentiment: 
about such abstract notions аз morality, 
McNamara, the Bundys, General Max- 
well Taylor. Rostow, and even the 
dent doubter, George Ball, conside 
themselves accountable only to the Chief 
Executive, certainly not to the American 
people. Significantly, not a single m 
ber of the highest level of the inner 
Government has yet publicly expressed 
contrition or a trace of shame, Halber- 
stam interconnects the internal power 
ys with the widely differentiated pe 
s of the р 


yers, up to and in- 
cluding the oversized Lyndon Baines 
Johnson. He makes clear—by name, 
deed and motivation—who was most to 
blame for the worst misadventure in our 
national history. 


Last year British newsman Frederick 
Forsyth wrote a nail biter called The 
Day of the Jackal that promptly turned. 
imo The Day of the Jackpot: number- 
one best seller, big movie de 
paperback bread—the works. So what 
does he do for an encore? The Odessa 
File (Viking), another 
projecting a fictional yarn 
factual backdrop of Europ 
His title is misleading: Odessa turns out 
10 be not the Soviet city by the sca but 
the acronym of a German phrase mean 
ing Organization of Former Members 
As Forsyth tells the tale, 
these super-Nazis by 1963 had formed а 
seeret network including many a fat-cat 
ember of the political-industri 
plex, all engaged in preparing guidance 
systems for the missiles their Kameraden 
were making in E 
with plague germs and strontium, For- 
syth's saga really begins when a young 
Hamburg freelancer stumbles onto the 
concentration-camp diary of a recent 
Jewish suicide and for the first time 
(it says here) re 
crimes were committed by his country- 
men—notably, one SS Captain Rosch- 
mann. He discovers that Roschmann is 
still alive and well, living somewhere in 
the Reich, and determines to flush him 


heavy 


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The TuxTail also comes in blue, that’s two. 
The Marlowe also comes in black, that’s four. 

The Ryder also comes in blue, that’s six. 

The Grosvenor also comes in black, that’s eight folks! 
And if you think that even begins to cover all our 


styles, you ain't seen nothing yet. 
FORMALS 


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PLAYBOY 


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out. Whereupon follows an intricate. 
ries of adventures that involves him with 
the Israeli Death's Head hunters and 
results in his posing as an 55 man in 
order to infiltrate Odessa. Being relresh- 
ingly inexpert (no Jackal, he), our hero 
soon blows his cover and becomes à 
hunted hunter. Things build quickly to a 
chilling climax and an ironic end 
Despite too much talktalk before the 
bang-bang, this is a zippy encore. An 
engrossing meld of incredible fact wi 
credible fiction—which seems to be For 
syth’s forte. 


Almost as productive of am emotio 
high as the wiles of the Yaqui Indian 
sorcerer it celebrates, Journey fo Ixtlan 
юп & Schuster) recounts the in 
tion of anthropologist Carlos Сама 
imo an alien system of belief. Two 
previous books—The Teachings of Don 
Juan and A Separate Reality—detailed 
Castaneda's use of psychotropic drugs to 
h another dimension of awareness. 
This time our attention is focused more 
sharply on the compelling figure of Don 
Juan, whose capacity for seduction, m: 


lie: 


Carlos into surrendering hi 
and petty concerns; he frightens hi 
running swiftly across unknown ground 
in the darkness; he induces him to con- 
centrate on objects until they lose shape, 
nt at a d pc until its 
meaning di „ to sit with his 
arms and legs bent at odd angles. He 
watches, alternately mirthful and con- 
cerned, as Carlos confronts an unaccount 
le wind, flees from spirit voices, losses 
in the del of nge fever. C 
learns to live with of his 
own death, a palpable presence at his lelt 
shoulder, and he learns how to stop the 
world and see it as a pattern of shin 
ing lines. Is Juan fraud or fantasy. saint 
or charlatan? Who dares say? But, like his 
teacher, Castaneda's works seem to trans- 
form the world—not only for himsell but 
for a large audience of readers, 


los 


most of the wiiti 


Until recent years, 
about American black music wa 
white men. Some of it was 
historically (Fred Ramsey) and in terms 
of musical a 
but not until Blues People, by Lek 
Jones (now Imamu Baraka), was there a 
book exploring the socioeconomic psy- 
chological roots of evolving black Am 
can music through more than three 
centuries of black experi in this 
country. Ortiz Walton's Music: Black, White 
& Blue (Morrow) continues that investi- 
gation. "The first black 

jor American оган 
Symphony). Walton hı 
cipal double bassist 


alysis (André Hodeir)— 


‘Two weeks 


in the hospital 
can cost you 
two months 
in wages. 


America needs action 
on Healthcare. 


If we have our say, you won't have to be rich to 
be sick. Because the country will have a Health- 
care plan that gives all Americans equal access to 
medical care and the insurance to pay for it. 


Actually, ZEtna, America’s largest private health 
insurer, has been urging Healthcare for over four 
years. We've worked with Washington and the 
insurance industry tó develop a total plan that 
puts our industry in partnership with govern- 
ment. So care will be available to all Americans 
atacostthat isn't a plague on the taxpaycrs. 


AV в | 


і 
To start with, the whole system of delivering 
health care has to be significantly improved. 
(Even if every last cost were covered, there aren’t 
enough facilities or professional people now to 
take care of everyone.) We need more doctors and 
nurses. We need trained medical assistants. 


We need incentives for medical people to work in 
places where they don’t work now. We need 
walk-in neighborhood health centers to take a 
needless burden off the hospitals. And that’s just 
the start. 


4 


LIFE& CASUALTY 


ZEtna has a lot to say about Healthcare because 
we've thought a lot about the way this country 
should be. And we're doing what we can to move 
itin the right direction. It's hard work and it puts 
us right in the middle of public debates. But we 
think it's right. And in Healthcare, a good many 
people are coming to agree with us. 


You get action. 
with Апа, Д 


PLAYBOY 


38 


CHOICE, NOT 


You can spend more 
for a camera, but you 
can’t buy more camera 
than a Konica. Because 
in every price category, 
Konica offers more mean- 
ingful features. 

Features like truly 
automatic exposures, set 
perfectly for you everytime. 
Plus one no other camera 
can offer: the Hexanon lens; 
the scalpel-sharp reason why 
Konica can claim “the lens 
alone is worth the price.” 

Immodest? Ask the man who 
owns a Konica. You'll choose 
one, too. 


Enter the NEWSWEEK/KONICA Photo Contest, 
Win а 1973 American Motors Gremlin, Pan Am tours 
ind Ascorlight outfit, Omega darkroom, 


prizes in NEWSWEEK /KONICA 
contest. Details at Konica dealers. 


KONICA 


га Color Films 


ica Camera Corp., 
Berkey | Woodside, New York 11377 
In Canada: Garlick Films Lid., Toronto 


(U. A. R.) Symphony Orchestra and now 
heads the Hoodoo Jazz Band while com 
pleting his work at the University of 
California for а dottorate in sociology 
He is an exceptionally lucid as well as a 
widely knowledgeable writer. His sectio 
on the organic relationships between 
African music and African ways of life 
and their legacy to Afro-Americans ma 
well be the best single introduction to 
the subject for the lay reader. Also ар. 
sorbing are Walton's examinations of 
blues, ragtime and the early decades of 
jazz—which he regards as Ihe American 
classical music. (A continuing obbligato 


to his account is that of black. innova 
tion followed by white exploitation.) 
Walton is skimpy on post-bop develop- 
ments, preferring to focus on the dis 
"ination by symphony orchestras 
against black musicians and the discrimi- 
nation by society as a whole against 
black culture in our hugely dispropor- 
tionate subsidization of symphony or- 
chestras and opera companies rather than 
of black American classical music. He 
a reversal of the 


strongly 
priorities of public cultural funding and 
the establishment of training centers for 
Afro-American musicians on a comm 


n 
ty and national level, as well as a 
massive infusion of the teaching of Afro 
American music in the public schools 
"This is onc of the very few serious books 
on music that any reader can assimilate 
with 


sc and. pleasure 


CIA: The Myth and the Madness (Saturday 
Review Press) was written by ex-ClAnik 
Patrick McGarvey, who served in various 
intelligence а 


wencies for 14 years, Were it 


not so basically melancholy. it would be a 
marvelous farce. McGarvey tells stories so 
bizarre they must be true. The CLA want 
ed to know the state of King Farouk’s 
th, so it tapped two urinals in a john 
at a Monte Carlo casino. When the 
plump monarch went to the loo, an agent 
sitting in a stall peered out through a 


he: 


crack and, by coughing, signaled to a 
colleague on the other side of the wall 
which urinal Farouk was using, Presto! A 
specimen by remote control. McGarvey 
tells of stupelying bureaucracy, costly 
duplication, an avalanche of informa- 
Чоп so overwhelming that the impor- 
tant is often overlooked, and just plain 
incompetence. Perhaps the biggest intel- 
ligence fiasco of recent years was the 
apture of the spy ship Pucblo by North 
Korea. When the White House instantly 
fired olf a rocket to the Defense Depart- 
gence agency, the desk 


ments intel 
officer there didn’t have the v 
tion what the ship had been up to. 
Nobody had told him. Nor had he re- 
ceived a warning from the National Sc- 
curity Agency (ће one concerned with 
electronic intelligence) that the Pueblo 
would be in danger if it went too close 


guest no- 


Buckle up Y 
with 
Buxton. 


Buckle up with the leathers and 
textures and details you’ve 
been looking for. Here, left to 
right, some brand new for- 
instances. Rawtan steerhide in 
brown, black, tan, $6. Embroidery 
in blue, burgundy, gold, $8. 
Kadiri buffalo calf in Kashmir 
brown or India black, $8. 
Patent leather in candy apple, 
navy, brown or white, $7.50. 


fashion for keeps 


: This. , 
is for your brain. 


1. These wool sweaters were made to be 
washed and dried in the machine. 
We wouldn't say it if they couldn't do it. 


In they go. Out they come. Time after time. Like new. A technological process 
makes these sweaters machine washable. You don't see the ‘process’, just 
the results. Sweaters like these are immune to shrinking, pilling or matting. 
They come out looking and feeling as soft as ever. 


2. These sweaters are made of a fiber 
that gets back into shape in a snap. 
Meet The Crimp. 


Uncopyable. This coiled spring that makes wool wool. 
Almost pure protein, it stretches up to about 30% of its 
length—sort of like your muscles. Then returns to shape 
no matter how many times you pull your pullover down. 


The Crimp, 
wool's unique coiled spring structure, 
greatly magnitiec. 


3.These sweaters have this Mark 
of quality. In order to earn the Woolmark label 


with the words ‘machine washable’, a sweater must meet 

the requirements of the Wool Bureau laboratories for fiber e 
content, color-fastness, machine-washability, etc. And be PURE WOOL 
inspected for quality of workmanship. So look for the sewn-in Woolmark 
label. It means you've got a quality-tested product made of the world's 
best...pure wool. 


Her sweater by Rosanna. about S18 His sweater by Robert Bruce, about $18. For the store nearest you, call or write) 
The Wool Bureau Inc... U S. Branch ol IWS, 360 Lexington Avenue, Dept. P12, New York, N.Y. (212) 986-6222. 


Thi 
is for your body. 


Wool. It's got life. 


PLAYBOY 


42 


King George IV. 


The only prestige 
Scotch that costs less here 
than in London. 


From Scotland to Singapore all over 
the world— King George IV costs just as much 
as other prestige Scotches. ? і 

But here its the only on 
buy for a remarkably low pric 


very same Scotch. 


Blended Scotch Whiskey. 80 Proof . Sole Importer U.S.A. Munson Shaw Co., N.Y. 


to the coast, for the North Koreans 
were clearly undertaking a more aggres 
sive. counterintel 


nce program. And 
anyway, the intelligence the Pueblo. was 
supposed to gather was already be 
adequately collected. by 
There's a lot more like that, and when 
McGarvey is finished, there's not much 
left of the CIA myth. More damagin 
but this one politically—is The Politics 
of Heroin in Southeast Asia (Harper X 
Row), written by a Yale Ph.D. candi 
date, Alfred W. McCoy, with two other 
grad students, Cathleen R. Read and 
Leonard P. Adams II. McCoy accuses 
the ClA—which did its best to discredit 
the book before publication—ol support 


another agency 


gu 
charges that high-ranking Thai ofhcials 
close to the U. S. and high-ranking South 


ickers in opium and heroin, He 


Viernamese and La 


tian oficials entirely 
dependent on American support ате di- 
rectly involyed in the sale of heroin to 
American Servicemen and in the ship- 
ment of heroin for sale on American 
streets. According to McCoy, the Nixon 
Administration knows exactly whats 


happening but will do nothing elfective 


ause that would 


to stop the drug flow bei 
undermine U.S. favorites in Indochina. 
It’s a terrible accusation, but the docu. 
mentation is strong. It sounds like the 
real McCoy. 


Ihe Greeks had а word for it—stoma- 
chos, or opening: but Old English had 
a more forthright’ onc—belig, mean 
ing bag or sack. In his grab bag of 
book about the human midsection 
James Trager opts for the later. And in 
The Big, Fertile, Rumbling, Cast-Iron, Growling, 
Aching, Unbuttoned Bellybook (Grossman), he 
tells us all about the crowded, busy, 
igling world that’s sheltered by our rib 


cage. Trager may be the most knowledge 


able man on canh about the human 


belly—from what goes into it to what 


appens alter it gets there; from belly 
iil ments to belly builders: from the art of 
belly dancing to the etiquette of eructa 
tion, or belly burping, But Bellybook 


is more tha 


NT 


a guided tour throug 
alimentary canal. Trager deles the com 
ic chemistry and makes 


а brave attempt to clarify the cnormous 


plexities of org 


ly complex imterelationships of food 


and enzymes, metabolism 


nd genetics 


He also examines such gut issues as diet, 


and the maldistri 


nutrition, food salcıy 
bution of the world’s food supply. Like 
»d cook, Trager has seasoned his 
reportage with a soupçon of I 
sprinkling of anecdote (Nelson won at 
sh had 


nd, а 


becuuse the Br 


learned how to keep their sailors from 
getting scurvy) and several dashes of 
wit. In his obsession with the surpris- 


ingly misunderstood world of the belly, 


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PLAYBOY 


46 


Think 


Menthol 


Silva Thins 100's. 
They have 

less “tar” than 
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non-filters: 


КАД? 
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THINGS 


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Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
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Filter and Menthol 


C Repon August 72 


Prager has bitten olf more than he can 
properly 4 he has catered a 
bullet of fascinating facts. 


est. —hy 


Anthony Quinn's autobiographical 
The Original Sin (Little, Brown) will 
frustrate readers hungry for. details 
about the actor's sexual exploirs While 
the book includes an ing offhand 
reference to his affair with a movie 
he “almost committed suicide 
little is said about the breakup of 
wine De 
ghter of С. B.) and 


Mille ( 
nothing 


Yet Quinn strips himselt 
thats almost unprecedent 
phies. Stretched 
Iyst’s couch, which serves 
for his first-person psy- 
nn flashes back to a ser 
nk and probably pain- 
ful revelations. Vivid memories of. pov- 
ему and squalor are woven darkly 
through episodes t his Mexican 
Irish boyhood, his total dependence on 
the good opinion of a ruthlessly authori- 
s youthful liaison. with 
n older married woman who helped 
give shape to his professional lile, plus 
colorful tales of how he came under the 
influence of such diverse characters as 
Aimee Semple McPherson, West, 
John Barrymore and Frank Lloyd 
Wright The bank's most provocative 
figure, however, is a. character identified 
merely as The Boy—a fantasy creature 
who is, of course, Quinn's alter ego, his 
inner voice. “A ghost,” his doctor tells 
him—'a memory we all carry of our 
youth." The actorauthor's attempts to 
rid himself of this ghost, to discover why 
he is "unable to love unconditionally,” 
define the form and substance of The 
Original Sin. Unsparingly honest, sell- 
ind. furiously ego driven, Quinn 
often proves as compelling in print as he 
is on film. His written confessional ends, 
unfortunately, with a scene that might 
have been judiciously cut from one of 
the more ilamboyant Anthony Quinn 
i the маг on his knees 


made 


movies— 
against the backdrop of a desert sunrise, 
shedding real tems and joyously bariton- 
e praises of love, love, love. Even 
still comes off as a hell of a guy 


50,1 


What a dream when it started: to 
encourage and finance the creative proj 
ects of you 
out limiting their freedom. 
Apple, the corporate structure erected in 
1968 by the bulging moneybags and high 
minded motives of the Beatles. By 1971 
Apple was sance—a financial shambles 
tistic failure and a legal muddle. Its 
three years of surreal existence are the 
subject of The Longest Cocktail Party (Playboy 
Press). Richard. DiLello, a self-described 


If the world made only one kind of sound, 
we'd make only one kind of tape. 


There are a lot of different 
sounds in the world that are important 
to you. 

There's music, all kinds of 
music. Music you have on when you're 
busy. Music you just want to sit and 
listen to. Very, very carefully 

Recording voices calls for a 
different type of tape. And recording 
sounds may call for yet another. 

Different types of tape are best 
for different types of recording. 

If cassette recording is your 
thing, "Scotch" has one to do it on 

Start with our Highlander. 

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Or for even better sound, 
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For the ultimate in quality, 
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And if your preference is 8-track 
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Brand 8-track cartridges and reel-to- 
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"Scotch" Brand. The 
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PLAYBOY 


48 


BOOM, BAH, and NO HISS. 


Sure the bass comes booming through. But on the highs there's no hiss. 
Because the Sony TC-161SD has Dolby. Price — $299 95. See the complete line 
of Sony cassette tape decks starting at $115.95 at your Sony/Superscope dealer. 


Ferrite and Ferrite Head. Lasts up to 200 times 
longer than the commonly used permalloy variety 


Total Mechanism Shut-Off. Sony's 
TMS automatically turns the operating 
mechanism completely off at end of 
tape in any mode. 


Closed-Loop Dual Capstan Tape 
Drive. Reduces wow and flutter to an, 
insignificant 0.1% 


Dolby Noise 
Reduction 
System. 


You never heard it so good” 


(©1072 бореа 
Pages lor your news 


ттм Dolby Labs.. In 
FS SSS иш иш иш иш иш иш иш шш шш иш иш иш иш иш иш иш | 


¦ Spend 8‘. Ѕаме 100. | 


That's how much more а 
В ах movie camera 
and projector can cost. „5 
See the top-rated — / 
Argus/Cosina Super / 
8 Model 708 movie 
camera with 8x \ 
pushbutton electric \ 
zoom f/1.7 lens, It 
features: fully automatic 
thru-the-lens CdS electric oye meter 
system (ASA 25 to 250) and thru-the- 
lens microprism viewfinder. 3-speed 
electric film drive plus single-frame ү! Argus Incorporated 
advance. Drop-in instant film load, 2080 Lunt Ave., Elk Grove, 11. 60007 
toldaway pistol grip, battery tester, In Canada: Argus Cameras of Canada Ltd 
run-Iock switch, automatic re-setting Newmarket. Ontario 
footage counter, and more. Fabulous 
value in the $200 range. 

The Argus Dualmaster 890Z movie 
projector with 1/1.5 zoom lens brilliantly 
shows Super 8 and Regular 8 movies. 
it features: automatic reel-to-reel 
threading, 4 f p.s. variable-speed slow 
motion, forward-reverse- and stop-action 
still control, 500 watt brilliance, built-in film 
trimmer, and more. 

Self-contained case with 
400 ft. reel. Fabulous 
value in the $150 range. 


d 

At selected photo dealers. t — H 
Send for tree brochures. Zi ES 

(i| m a am a a n 


argus 


American hippie who conned his way 
imo a job with Apple's publicity depart- 
ment, gives his highly personalized. 
kaleidoscopic version of what happened. 
For the most part, he eschews cheap 
psychologizing and tortuous financial de 
tails. What he gives us is a daytoday 
anecdotal picture of the decline and fall 
of an empire: John and Yoko ordering 
the frantically busy stall to find 100 per 
fect acorns to be sent to world leaders as 
n drug freaks 


fices un 


il they get bored w 
Beatle to pay attenti 
scheme dreams; grandiose plans for re 
ords, films, books, television. programs— 
all going down the ¢ for lick of 
planning or follow-through. Gradually 
working for Apple became less ol a daily 
party as its new chief executive, contro: 
versial Allen Klein (subject of the No 
vember 1971 Playboy Interview), tried to 
bring financial order out of chaos, But his 
efforts—ranging from cutting out free 
lunch for the май to streamlining the 
business operation—couldn't get at the 

ional rot. In DiLello's version, two 
currents created the whirlpool 
Apple first bobbed, then sank. 
One was а stream of rip-offs that siphoned 
millions from the golden How of royalties 
The other was the gradual disillusion: 
ment of the Beatles themselves with 
their own godhead. Pulled apart by di- 
vergene personal interests and jealousies, 
they became feared and then hated by 
many who worked for them. The ulti. 
mate blow—Paul McCartney's suit to 
put Apple into receivership and dissolve 
the Beatles’ partnership—merely con 
firmed the sad end of a noble experi 
ment doomed by its own charisma. 


Beth Day isn't the first writer to 
have discovered the connection between 
bigotry and interra sex. But 
Sexual life Between Blacks ond Whites 
(World) she brings together a lot of 
helpful data; she is as likely to draw 
from poets and novelists as from social 
a vare and appealing tendency 
these days. She reviews Southern white 
lears of the black as superstud—those 
Iynchings. with their grisly mutilations, 
ware hardly Plitonic—and she explores 
the  psychosexual problems of black 
males. Many black men, she notes, 
rally prefer the ege-building blandish 
ments of white women to the 
shattering bitchiness of "strong? black 
. Furthermore, "Some black men 
game of exploiting white ‘bleed. 
art liberal women. parlaying their 
guilt ov cial injustice into sexual 
favors" Despite the games people play, 
Day finds the tr 
ou marital 
ly enconra e 
nore of the sume Пу in 
the South, where “blacks tend more to 


weal 


wome 
make 


Introducin 
1973 Beetle: 


Re-introducin 
1972 price: 


With the price of our new Beetle still 
under $2,000 ,* the Volkswagen Beetle 
is a bigger buy than ever before. 

More warranty, for instance, than 
you get with any other small car. Twice 
more: 24 months ar 24,000 miles. ** 

More attention to specific details 
than ever {and that's quite a lot). More 
than 1,000 inspectors meticulously scru- 
inizing more than 5,000 parts. 


Some two or three times. For us, it's 
not enough to get it right, we want it 
perfect. 

Volkswagen also has the most ad- 
vanced automative service system in 
the world. A brand new computer is, or 
soon will be, waiting in your VW deal 
er's service orea. We simply plug it in to 
your VW, and it checks, via sensors and 
probes, vital service parts and spells 


gthe 


g the 


out the results in plain English. That's 


service. 
Maybe all of this explains why VW 
owners have gotten more resale dol- 
lars after three or four years than the 
owners of any other comparable car. f 
Obviously, it's not only the 
price of the '73 Beetle that 
reminds you of the gaod old 

days. It's also the quality 


Few things in life work as well as a Volkswagen. 


*1973 Voliswogen 
AME on owner moint 


workmanship within 24 months or 24,000 miles, whichever comes first (except normol weor ond teor ond service items} will be 


з ond services his vehicle in accordance with the Volkswagen maintenance schedule any factory part 


Concdion Volkswagen Deoler. And this will be done free of chorge. See your dealer for delcils 
Source: 1969 nonulocturens suggested retoil prices ond 1972 overage used cor lol retail prices os quoted in NADA Olliciol Used Cor Guide, Eostern Ed., June, 1972 


Sedon Ш suggested retoil price, P.O.E local taxes ond other deoler charges, il опу, edeitional. ®Volktwagen of Americo, Inc 


und to be defective in material or 
poired or reploced by any U.S. or 


48 


goals of integrati 
and where the 
led into 


© ghetto.” But she 
away by her own thesis 
she notes 
L other forms of 
sive way, “Perhaps 
t will be changes in 
isible conclusion 


re 


PLAYBOY 


the most importa 
housing 2 
to а sensible book. 


The prolifie Donald E. Westlake has 


outdone himsclf. Like the rubbersarmed 
pitcher who tries to hurl both ends of a 
doubleheader, he serves up his own 
twin bill this fall—a crime novel and a 
work of political nonfiction. The chore 
must have left him a wille arm-weary, 
for he just ws to stagger through 
10 а папою win in cad 
Robbers (M. Ev 


BROWN'S 


Cops and 
ns) is traditional if not 


smaller on the outside than vintage Westlake—unlikehy оппаа 


bungling their way through an unlikely 


itis on the inside. caper. hts giving по scarcıs away to say 


s i that his policemen protagonists—blue 
Prince Gardner's Credit Card Billfold. collar stereotypes bored and scared. by 


Roomy enough to hold everything a man their jobs, their lives and New York Gi 

needs to carry. Without making him —work out a scheme to get rich quick 
look like he’s got bricks in his pocket. the expense of the Mafia. There are lois 
Im Bazen СБа ега finishes of gimmicks and some suspense, but not 


h cleverness as Westlake lhas 
and colors. From $5.00. وا‎ 
ems shown in the past. In Under an English 


PRINCE GARDNER umbra em] 


Prince Gardner, St. Lovis, Mo. A Division of SWANK, Inc. gripped his in 


vw 
ination but to lunc 
guawed it to bits Three years ag 
Oddball British fightin; 
rines, paratroopers and Li 


Yashicas TL ElectroX isnt Т 


island of Anguilla, in the climactic 


just another status symbol. | ms 


an 


forc ol ma- 


ndon bobbivs 


And that's why you'll wantto own electronically, measures the light gui who would rather be a happy 
it. The TL Electro-X is the world's electronically, making it the most British colc Чы! a unhappy inde- 
first fully electronic SLR system accurate and reliable SLR you pendent uation, had set oll a series ol 
camera. The heart of the system can buy. Yashica TL Electro-X. It political absurdities—involving everyone 


is a solid-state electronic brain isn't just another status symbol. 
that times the shutter speeds It's a better camera. 


from Parliament and die UN to an 
American soldier of fortane—that out- 
Gilberted any C. & S. plot. Westlake 
tongue-in-cieck approadi keeps the in 
neuverings fun for a while 
il piles on deuil, we we 


Buc 
forced to learn fur more about the Au 
gilla айай than 
ably want 10 kuow 


anyone would conces 


Seasoned commodity speculators know 
success in the fures market is 
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ups An abundance ol 
мейир techniques—all based on. the 
эгей proposal oL cuttin 


losses 


prolis. run— 


тешз with suirprisi 
long as they are used con 
sivently and dispassionately. The prob 
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d dispassionatcly. Sören Kierkegaad 
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his journals: "The majority of men arc 


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Before you spend good money 
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We know how good these Fi: 
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your hard-earned cash to buy one without 
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The question is. what are you going to 
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That's why we created The Fisher 
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4-channel record made with fanatical care, so 
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We don't know of any commer ly available 
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Only Fisher dealers have it. (If you want 
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Of course. it makes everything in the store 
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But, for the same reason, it also makes 
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(The Fisher compacts shown here are 
the 40-watt Fisher 28 on the left and the 
100-watt Fisher 30 on the right, priced at 
$299.95 and $349.95 respectively, complete 
with the recommended Fisher speakers and 
dust cover.) 


The Fisher " isa 12-inch long-ptiy 
exclusively for Fisher corded with up-t0-t 
techniques to be the ultimate demonstration record. Fiv 
tions on one side: seven rock and jazz selections on the other: no incom- 
{ for only $1—along with a free copy of The Fisher 
2 reference: puide to high fidelity, (Other 
compatible stereo/4-chann ords sell for up to $7) To get 
A your copy. fill out this coupon and present it to any participating 


inp album, 
inute e 


FISHER 


Fisher dealer. (Thi or is limited to the скай аНе supply of records) 
We invented high fidelity. isher deale [ Mel? 


Fy Name. = " 
PAZ 
D Address. = = 
City Lip 


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call (800) 243-6000 toll fi 


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SE dealer write: 
Downes, Ontario, 


PLAYBOY 


52 


With 379 cameras to choose from, 
which one should you buy? 


OK, you want а new camera, but 
you're confused by the hundreds of 
models available. That's under- 
standable. Perhaps we can be of 
some help 

First, let's assume 

си'ге not an avid 

obbyist, but you do 
wantto take good 
pictures. Belween 
ihe simple fixed- 
focus cameras and 
the sophisticated 
professional equip- 
ment there's one 
that's right for you 

The most popular 
is the 35mm. Compact, versatile 
and shoots 20 or 36 pictures per 
roll. Within this category is the 
single lens reflex (SLR) camera 
that lets you view your subject 
through the lens so you see exactly 
what will be in the picture. SLR's 
permitlens interchangeability. Most 


SLR's also have through-the-lens 
metering that measures only the 
light that actually gets to the film 
for more accurate exposure. 
Some also have through-the-lens 
metering with fully 
automatic expo 
sure control, in 
which an electric 
eye adjusts the 
lens opening for 
proper exposure 
—automatically. 
There are very few 
fully automatic 
SLR’s from which 
to choose. Frankly, we 
think the Petri FTEE offers the 
best value of them all. It has every 
important feature, uncomplicated 
handling anda price that's just right 
List price $239 complete with f/1.8 
lens and case. 
At selected PETRI 
photo dealers. 


Petri Intemational Corp. 432 Park Ave. South. New York. N Y. 10016 
U.S, Distributor: R-H, Interpholo Corp. In Canada: Interphoto of Canada, Toronto 


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subjective toward themselves and objec 
- . but the real task 
objective toward oneself and 
subjective toward others" This is where 
s break 


tive toward others . 
is to be 


specu down, especially in 
A special form of hubris 
grows from following 100 many pork 
belly prices and reading too many issucs 
of the Journal of Commerce. Speculators 
begin ıo think that they know more 
about how prices will move than any 
silly rule or trading technique can tell 
them. They begin to acf on hunches 
rather than follow a consistent plan. And 
this, more than 


commodities. 


rything else, explains 
why three ош of every four commodity 
speculators lose their shirt, Two recent 
hooks attempt to finesse this statistical 
reality by present 
proaches to protea the speculator from 
his own worst instincts. The more suc 
Stanley 


techniques and ар 


cessful of the pair. Angrist’s 
Sensible Speculating in Commodities (Simon X 
Schuster). is a welcome addition to the 


amateur speculator's library. The author 


is a science writer who has dabbled ex 
lensively (with. apparent success) in com) 
moditics 
in ability to explain his the 
others can understand him—no mean 
feat in the murky fens of investment 
journalism. Angrist touches all the соп 


He combines sound sense with 


his so that 


history of futures 
how exchanges work, how to 


ventional bases: die 


паша 


and use an account and how to 


ope 
guess price movements from supply-and 
demand figures. But the meat ot his book 
is devoted to technical analysis—divining 
future. price 1 rom past price 
action. Trading Irom charts and. graphs 
works especially 


moveine 
well in commodities 
there is plenty ol action and the cutting 
edge ol the technical approach is that the 
market quickly tells the speculator when 
he's wrong. Thus—assum 
lator follows the rules 
losses will be small ones. For the m 


ihe specu 


inevitable 
n who 


is seriously interested in commodities 
speculation, Angrist's critical evaluation 
of 27 major commediticsadvisory services 


—аһош which he h: gly 


some surprisi 
is, in isell, worth tnc 
price of adm is The 
Commodity Futures Market Guide (Harper X 
Row). by Stanley Kroll and Irwin Shis 
kow. This massive (360 pages) and pe 
«апіс attempt to apply the science of 
statistical analysis to the fine art of specu 


kind words to si 


ion. Less valuable 


lation. was probably doomed to. failure 
from the moment it was conceived. The 
book may be of interest to cconometri. 
cians or owners, but it 
holds little lor the part-time commodities 
i attempt to vali 


graineclevator 


freak. At one point, in 
date а computer model ef how prices 
ought 10 move. the author make the 
astonishi 


not alw 


statement that “the market is 
That som of pro 
tolerable in an 


s right 
nouncement might be 
ivory-tower Ph.D, thesis, but it has noth 
ing to tell the commodities. speculate 


Darm 


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55 


PLAYBOY 


56 


| The legend of the 


FIGA 


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HARDWARE, GENERAL STORE 


Jack Daniel's Party Pack 


Next Lime you're planning on having some 
folks over, I've pul a new littie package to- 
gether you'll be sure te like. | call it the Party 
Pack because it has a har towel, apron, Jack 
Daniel's statue slir sticks, napkins, matches, 
Pourers, jiggers, plastic glasses and bottle 
stoppers, everything for a party of 28. These 
best of the items mace by the Jack 
people. Send $8.50 and please add 
$1.00 for postage and handling, Е 


ap fn 


Send check, money or 


(Tennessee residents add 39 sales 
For a catalog full of old Tennessee items, 
Send 25¢ to above address. 


for whom the rightness or wrongness of 
the market has по meaning—as long as 
his money is going with the trend. 
Angrist knows better, and—for those who 
ave interested—his book is recommended. 


Alan W: 
In My Own Wey (Pantheon), lauds life's 
y pleasures, from English beer to 
mci i 


Zcn 


"The Sound of Ra 
Paynoy’s May i 
own lile has been a tasty В 


idediist-Chris- 


tian bullet, a meeting of yeast and zest. 
An 


ad a Calilor- 
dozen- 


glishman by birth 
1 by nature, he has 
three 
ng ап unhappy five-y 
а the Episcopal ministry, At pres- 
cnt, he is an unofficial amd reluctant 
guru among dojourown4hing young 
people. In this, his 21st book, he guru- 
minates on the meaning of life and 


concludes that there is none. "Like all 
Classical music, it me: ing except 
alf. |. There is no ‘message’ in a 


5 
Bach fugue.” In Wattss world, the mo- 
ment is the message; nothing exists but 
the present. It is a seize-theday philoso- 
phy that allows him both the luxury of 


retrospective innocence ("How can I 
forgive anyone else il I don't forgive 
mysel”) and the joys of fornication: 


“My life would be much. much poorer 


were it not for certain particular women 
with whom I have nest happily and 
congenially committed adultery.” This is 


1 very charming, even challenging in 
spots, but finally somewhat disappoint- 
ing, because Watts seldom shows us his 
life—he merely discusses it. We do get a 
fine, sensual portrait of his childhood 
days in Chisichursi—the gardens, the 
schools, the Tigers Head. pub—but the 
vivid details recede as the book moves 
on. with Watts cataloging his California 
friends 
tended. F 
wo skerd 


s manner of writing bec 
to support the burden of his 


The outpouring of published m 
on the women's liberation movement 
shows no sign of slackening—but. there 


is evidence of a change in approach. а 
diminution of female male 
ridicule, the oric 
wih veasan issue 
seems to be no focus. It's not 


mile vs, female but the individual vs. 
socieiy—the search by modern woman 
ul man alike for personal fulfillment in 
world where sex no longer limits ex 
pectations. The game is no longer two 
on а seesaw, its two on a tandem: IT we 
want 10 ger anywhere, we must learn to 
pedal together. Two récent books on 
women’s lib arc linked not only by 
subject matter but ако by a curious 
irony. One is w by a man, the 
other by a one attacks, the 


wom: 


other supports. Contrary to what you 
might expect, however, it's the man who 
champions the movement and the wom. 
an who rejects it. In A Mole Guide to 
Women's Liberation (Holt. Rinehart 
Winston). Gene Marine makes an im- 
pressive case for female equality. He 
writes in an easygoing, unargumentative 
way. willingly conceding his own fail- 


ings. He holds up a mirror to his male 
readers, wherein they may see them- 


selves as “m 
prejudiced 
tions are on 
those who in another 
the earth was flat. Marine would class 
Midge Decter, author of The New Chastity 
and Other Arguments Against Women’s Libera- 
tion (Coward, McCann & Geoghegan), 
among the masculinists. Most of her book 
is given to auacking a straw wom: 
ишге of the feminists rigged up 
to scare the hell out of men. Some wom- 
en, 10 be sure, do hate men (ж 
hate women 
spise motherhood 
fatherhood); but surely its u 
equate the entire sex-equalily шох 
ment with its lunatic fringe. Decier's 
hook does sound one major theme that 
merits serious consideration: She chim 
That a substantial number of feminists are 
lite girls who have never grown up. 
who don't realize that the goals they seek 
can't be handed over like 
who haven't yet learned what m 
by necessity long 
worth the winning cut be gained except 
by “blood, toil, tears and sweat" Both 
Decter and Marine desire the same goal 
—ап cud to that immaturity. 


sculinists" —unconsciously 
individuals whose 


п intellect 


assump- 


al par with 
age were cert 


nc men 


. and some women do di 
men 


(some despise 


to 


nown 


that 


orman Cousins calls his new book. 
The Improboble Trivmvirore (Norton), “hard. 
ly more than an asterisk го history." but 
his account of his personal dealings with 
Nikita Khrushchev. Pope John and John 
Kennedy makes a valuable footnote. 
Cousins is so carnest that he сап be 
somewhat off putting уе, as this book 
demonstrates, he has been an uncom- 
monly useful citizen. For a period of 18 
months beginning in March 1962, he 
served as gu-beineen in the t 
relationship of the thr 
Representing the Vatican, he twice met 
Khrushchev in mectings that led to the 
release of two long-imprisoned pre 
and improved relations between Ca 
olics and Communists. His account. ol 
these two long meetings with Kinuslichev 
provides an unusual close-up look at 
that exmaordinary figure, Cousins sees 
him as a thoroughly appealing man, 
earthy, outspoken, Tusty and, most im- 
portant, dedicated 10 peace. 


“Human life,” writes Vladimir Nabo- 
kov in his latest novel, Transparent 
Things (McGraw-Hill), “сш be ¢ 
pared to а person dancing in а variety 
of forms wound his own self: thus the 


Give us an idea 
worth listening to. 
We'll give you a 
few million listeners. 


And*1,000 in cash. 


“I dig being a lady. 1 still like to have 
my door opened and my cigarette lit, 
so | can't go all the way with libera- 
tion. | don't believe that my husband 
should mop the floors and do the 
dishes, because it just doesn't suit him. 


Karen Kozek, Los Angeles, Cal. 


We're the people who make 
TRACS. 

TRACS are new blank tape cas- 
settes. That play back any origi- 
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with full fidelity. But sell at a 
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Maybe you've heard our new 
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The ones where people sound 
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Or what's making them happy. 
Or whatever they think is worth 
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We may not always agree with 
the opinions in our commercials. 
But we broadcast them because 
we think every good idea ought 
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Yours included 

If you've got a new idea of 
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First, get full contest rules and 
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You'll save money when you 
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You wont lose money when 
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And if our judges select your 
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See your TRACS dealer for 
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TRACS “IDEAS” P.O. Box 140 
Gardena, California 90248 


57 


PLAYBOY 


58 


It’s not that you don't look good. 


It's just that you could Iook better. 
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We've also added padding to the 


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les of our first picture book en- 


circled а boy 

cumber, blue eggplant, 1, potato 
potato fils. a girly gus. and, 

oh, many more, their ronde 


faster 
forming a transparent rin 
colors around a dead person or planet. 
The particular human life being ob 
seived is that of Hugh Person (You! 
Person! Get 12), who shares with 
other Nabokovian heroes the galactic 
property of swimming imo view ol our 
telescope Irom the left, performing cer- 
tad vels and then € vight. 
Hugh is an editor. His function 
seems to be that of u n Mr. 
Jt, а dilatory autho i 
and American in genius. and of coaxing 
away from the profitable writer his latest 
manuscript. Mr. R. is not unlike. am- 
other author of contemporary fame who, 
ges. particularly 
. found pure gold in 
But it is Hugh who 
commands our. attention here. In onc ol 
his Swiss excursions to excavate Mr. Ra 
Hugh finds and falls in love with 
с. She is beautiful, 
п, a skier, nymphlike, if not nymphet, 
and quite stupid. But. Hugh adores | 
as Dante adored his Bea and Poe 
Vee. 10 ратарам from Zolim: he 
marries her and they live together for 
six months before cei n unconscious 
somnambulistic tendencies 
ard a deadly climax. Пу is 
ior eflors--but 
shments by d kable 
ike finger exercises by Но. 
They may not be part of a 
étude, but they give oue a thrill 
ing idea of what a Chopin étude would 
sound like consummarely performed 


ren 


© еті 


томі: 


Noteworthy: Those two 
essayist (antagonists (light 
William F. Buckley, fr. and Gore 
come forward in characteristic fo 
season. with a volume of essays apiece. In 


1 this 


Inveighing We Will Go (Putnam). bar 
Buckley pummel everyone from John 
Lindsay to Helen Gurley Brown, while 


alloping Gore's Collected Essays (Random 
cj rides roughshod over such lumi- 
maries as Susan Sontag and Bill Buckley 
Or is this where we Gime in? 

ad Lins of Jean Shepherd's 


Friends 
icd. that his newest collec 
1 American lite 
on Seventies 


ane hereby uc 
tion of wry observa 
— ihis time disse 
hang-ups—is av 
Bedroom (Dodd. Mc 


rile міс Blige 
and the brisk kitchen of the 


ing spot 


REMINGTON: We all remember 
you as Kookie using your comb on the 
TV program "77 Sunset Strip.” Do you 
still use it? 

EDD: I don't go near the thing. 
Hike the kind of natural look you can't 
get froma comb. 

REMINGTON: What do you think 
of the Mist-Air Hot Comb™ styler/ 
dryer we gave you to try? 

EDD: I use ir all the time now. Jr 
keeps my hair in place, but looking 
natural. 

REMINGTON: How do you useit? 

EDD. After I shampoo, I towel dry 
my hair an¢ chen I turn on the Mist-Air 
Hot Comb. The har air dries my hair 
and styles itat the same time. If my hair 
dries before it's completely styled, 1 
just give ita few squirts with the water 
attachment—thar dampens it enough 
toler me finish styling. 

And if I have ro look good and 
don't have the time to shampoo, J just 
dampen my hair with the spray and 
sole it 

The whole job usually takes only a 
few minutes. 

REMINGTON: By the way, whose 
idea was it for you todo the comb 10u- 
tine on the television series? 

EDD: Mine, The part I had was 
very small. "Kookie" was the attendant 
in the parking lot, so didn’t have much 
10 do except open and close car doors. 

1 had co find a way to деса bigger part 
more attention. So | started 
doing the comb bit. 

In no time, it caught on. I was 
getting 10000 to 19,000 tan letters a 
week asking me for combs. The studio 
bosses loved it. They wanted me to comb 
my hair more. 

“The whole thing wound up getting 
me bigger parts and sometimes 
my own episode. 

Lowe a lor to my old comb. 

REMINGTON: One last question, 
Do you do anything else today besides 
use the Misi-Air Hot Combo keep 
your hair looking great? 

EDD: Yeah. Headstands. No focl- 
ing. It lets the blood flow ro yous head 
and keeps hair healthy. 

1 also use an organic shampoo. 
And of course, I get great haircuts 

REMINGTON: OK. Thank you, 
Edd. 

EDD: Thank you, Remington 


THE MIST-AIR HOT COMB 
FROM REMINGTON - 


PLAYBOY 


60 


EARLY TIMES DISTILUERVICON/LOUISVILLE, КҮ. eu 


ъ 
Soar пир юл pret vt 


Ух 


when it snows, 
it pours 


mother you never had. Mama 
Sanchez really exists, and so do Papa 
Sanchez and their many children, one 
of whom, Michael, specializes in blue 
berry pancakes. What else? Well, perhaps 
one of 15 different omelets, including 
chili pepperand-sour-cream, crab. and 
Mama's family favorite—sautéed fresh 
mushrooms, green onions, tomatoes and 
melted Jack cheese. The overall effect 
is of a healthy unspoiled French bistro, 
it you can imagine that, with French 
bread and 14 other varieties of bread 
available, some of which Mama makes in- 
10 spectacular Swedish cinnamon French 
toast—covered not with syrup but with 
fresh-fruit cocktail and a powdering of 
confectioners’ sugar. Even the bacon and 
ham and the bowls of raspberry jam and 
Mama's special blend of coffee lure your 
hip lawyer, stockbroker 
or architect (and their molls) down from 
Telegraph or across from Russian. Hill 
for a morning meet and treat. At lunch. 
morc fresh fruit appears: raspberries, 
strawberries, melons, or fruit and yo 
ghurt, with superhealth. pastries from 14 
bakers. More ambitious wenchermen try 
the crab quiche or the Slim Joe—grilled 
ground chuck, onions, Monterey Jack 
and catsup on half a French baguette. 
Cole slaw? Try Mama's paperthin cab 
bage slices with her secret dressi 
Frittata? There is an Iulian egg-and 
vegetable concoction baked in season 
ings. Mama and Papa Sanchez have 
eight children, and most of them helped 
name various sandwiches and dishes 
Charlie the Tuna, Charlie's Aunt, Crab 
Joyce, John the Gardener, Papa's Favor 
ite. Fresh flowers, honest food, happy 
people mike this a rare, nononsense 
monetlinic restaurant for extroverted 
gourmets. Open seven days a week from 
8 лм. to 8 вм. Crowded. Cheerful. 
Cheap. A joy. 


Juanite’s, located 50 miles north of 
San Francisco in Fetters Hot Springs, is 

trip in more ways than one. At the 
enuance to the restaurant—houscd. in 
a turn-of-the-century hotel—visitors arc 
met by Juanita's welcoming committe 
nonchalant troupe of parrots, peacocks, 
chickens. turkeys. a pet fox and a woolly 
monkey named Beaudegard. More of the 
resident menagerie is on the loose in 
the outer lobby, along with proprietress 
Juanita Musson, the ebullient 250 pound 
carth mother who is entirely responsible 
for her establishments ability to lure 
long:hairs, locals and San Francisco ex 
ccutives alike, “The only reason we get 
such a mix of people is because they all 
feel at home here.” she says. “And it is 
а home—hell, my bedroom is two feet 
from the men’s john.” The low-key at 
mosphere of Juanita’s is reinforced by 
the establishments eclectic decor—a mix 
ture of old priny grandfather 
docks, huge divans and overstuffed casy 


x portraits, 


Don Giovanni, Eleanor Rigby & Bill Bailey 


м 


make a poor medley 


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‘at your favorite store, or write 
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My Tribute fo Louîs. 
Piano solos by Earl Hines. 


“A dazzling recital. 
With selections governed by what 
Hines felt most deeply about his 
friend Armstrong. The highlight 
being two versions of "When It’s 
Sleepy Time Down South”. The 
first buoyantly introductory. The 
last, a reluctant farewell. It's sheer 
Hines— for the love of Louis.” 
Stanley Dance 


HINES DOES HOAGY. Second of Series. 
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Dept DG 72 340 Bourbon Street 
New Orleans, La. 70130 


Pu 


chairs culled from local St. Vincent de 
Paul's and Salvation Army outlets. Next 
to her passion for poking around in junk 
stores, Juanita is most enamored of prime 
rib, and she dispenses prodigious portions 
of it (served with the bone) for $7.95 a 
helping. If prime rib isn't your meat, 
you've no choice but to settle for Juanita’s 
only other entree, а hefty helping of rib 
сус at $6.50, Either includes the price 
of preliminary visits to the buffet, which 
(for $3.50 à la carte) ca ind often does 
—suffice for an entire dinner. In addi- 
tion to soup, salads and а wide range of 
cold items, the buffet features breaded 
pork chops, pasta, fried chicken, whole 
artichokes and whatever che Juanita feels 
like serving the evening you visit. Ju 

nita’s is open seven days a week from 
9 aM. to 2 лм. (dinner is served until 
11 rar). Master Charge and Bank Ameri 
card ате accepted and reservations are 
recommended on weckends (707-996- 
7010), but if you should arrive without 
them and have to wait an hour to be 
seated, you'll find the bar inexpensive 
brimming with good booze—and 


and 
vibes. 


MOVIES 


Fellini's Roma is a cinematic pearl, one 
of those gems that so often result when 
the germ of an idea lodges itself in the 
phantasmagoric imagination of Fede- 
ако Fellini. Those who view Fell 
showmanship as a mere shell game may 
label Roma a documentary about the 
Eternal City—but we prefer to compare 
it with the etchings of Hogarth or 
Toulouse Lautrec. (For a play-by-play 
sampling, see rravsov's October pic 
torial.) Spurning even the loose story 
structure of Satyricon, Fellini disguises his 
vision of modern existence as 
biographical portrait of Rome, in tip- 
tych for the Rome he imagined as a 
lad in Rimini; the Rome he discovered 
firsthand during the prewar Fascist era, 
at the age of 18; and Rome today. A 
dozen or more major sequences flash by 
almost kaleidoscopically. out of strict 
Ше cal order yet held together by 


i's 


quasi- 


g tapestry, resident celebrities An 
ni and Gore Vidal appear briefly 
as themselves. The screen erupts into 
vivid re-creations of wartime brothels for 
rich and poor, a farout trip into an- 
tiquity via Rome's unfinished Metropoli- 
tana subway, a rowdy Roman music hall. 
Memorable in the heady blend of fable 
d fantasy are episodes filmed on the 
ly trafficked Raccordo Anulare that 
ncircles Rome, a rainy-day 
nightmare of urban ugliness; amd thc 
climactic night-riding revels of a band of 
noisy molocielisti im the ancient city, 
whose menacing shadows suggest that 


modern 


Clockwork Orange droogs arc 
well on the Appian Way. Superb cinc- 
matography (by Giuseppe Rotuano) 
adds panache to Roma's showstopping 
ecclesiastical fashion show—nuns and 
priests promenading like Vogue m; 
quins in a cruel and hilarious satirical 
statement that only Fellini would dare 
dream up or be able to materialize. 
Roma makes palpable the greed, corrup- 
tion, coldness, insanity and unfailing 
magnetism of a great city. 

At least 50 or 60 bodies litter the 
screen before the fade-out of Slaughter, 
which is not only the name of the game 
but also the name of the character tack- 
football star Jim Brown. As 
Beret whose parents 
of an interna 
te, Brown follows 
sin (Rip Torn, a 
perennial movie meanie who appears to 
be afllicted widi terminal psychosis) t0 а 
South American city that photographs 
well. When director Jack Starrett с 
tear himself away from the scene! 
serves up Slaughters wholesale carnage 
in slow motion, at опей camera an- 
gles—as good a way as апу to рас 
brutality for viewers who dig se 
people beaten, butchered and bw 
alive. As p n our Octobe 
Slaughter does change thc pace, as 
Brown is paired in a series of black-on 
white boudoir skirmishes with blonde 
Stella Stevens, a gifted, misused actress 
who somehow leaves her signature on 
rubberstamped trollopy parts that usu- 
ally reveal everything but her talent. 


the group's hired 


The opening scene of The Ruling Class 
is set in a stately home in England. 
that “teeming womb of privilege.” where 
a допу old carl (Harry Andrews) acci- 
dentally hangs himself while acting out 
a fetish that compels him to wear a 
cocked hat and а ballerina’s tutu. over 
his long johns. The вай heir (Peter 
O'Toole) amives to assume his respon- 
sibilities and is considered mad by other 
members of the Gurney family because 
he alfects flowing robes and а mane of 
golden curls and insists he is God Al 
mighty. The Ruling Class then proceeds 
ably to show how the de 
о calls 
à prince of peace and behaves 
like a jive Jesus—is restored to sanity 
and assumes his "normal" role as а mur 
derous but respectable English lord who 
secretly es he is Jack the Ripper 
While the meat of the film seems almost 
too obvious. the manner of it seldoi 
lacks for surprises—with O'Toole, Al- 
astair Sim, Coral Browne and Carolyn 
Seymour heading a brilliant company 


that shucks upper-class reserve from time 
to time to belt out a snappy song and 
dance. O'Toole shags through The Var 


sity Drag with a pair of neighboring 


“We still use 
our centuries-olde 


pot still method?’ 


Nez А 


Je 


Its how 
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First we do what most ginmakers do. 
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distillation and distill it again in our pot still. 
(It's part of our 203-year-old English for- X! THE HEART OF A GOOD COCKTAIL 32 
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63 


PLAYBOY 


aristocrats and his butler (Arthur Lowe, 
in a devastating comic turn as the man 
servant who collects his inherit 
sticks around to insult the | 
heirs). The peripheral comic madness 
of Ruling Class stems directly from а 
stage play by Peter Barnes, who also 
wrote the screen adaptation and allows 
the movie to run on and on for a good 30 
too long, Director Peter Medak 


ness and occasionally plays up effects 0 
ought to be played do s 
make-up, for example, which gives him 
the appearance of а Jesus freak in drag. 


BURGLAR 
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JOE NAMATH “INSTANT REPLAY” 


Susi literate soci 
the worst of it pala 


Peace, director Larry Peerce’s movie vet- 
sion of John Knowles's novel about the 
violence set off by juvenile rituals of 
proper Eastern prep 
school. The irrational impulses that lead 
from the playing fields to the battle 
as man's ultimate com- 
petitive sport—were what Knowles was 
getting at in his deceptively simple story 
of a bright. studious boy who causes а 
rippling accident to befall his friend 
ДЫП HONE ar unstoppable athlete 
med Finny. In his quest for authenti 
ity, Peerce shot much of the movie 
Knowles's own alma mater, Phillips Exe- 
ter Academy in New Hampshire, and 
cast actual schoolboys in both leading 
and secondary roles. As Finny and his 
dangerous friend Gene. John Heyl and 
Parker Stevenson perform with such 
easy conviction that their inexperience 
seldom shows, and they are in no way 
responsible lor making Separate Peace 
generally lei sfying filn 
Unfortunately, overstate pears to 
be the bane of all Peerce flms—from 
One Ponto, Two Potato to Goodbye, 
Columbus and The Sporting Club—a 
failing that becomes evident here when 
he closes in on faces at a lawn receptie 
as if determined to make nearly ev 
one present look silly, stuffy or stupid. 
Though it tries, Separate Pe 
out from under its he: 
hand. 


manhood at a 


front—with wa 


PRO FOOTBALL JERSEY! 


ту сае ctm RELAY BERO 


‘NAMATH FOOTBALL JERSEY 
EI 


Bluebeard 
touchable 


Richard 
opposite ¢ 
femmes fa 
ic, bur ther 


Burton pla 
ht unusually 
les may spell box-olfi 
s precious little magic in 
itsell. despite the presence 


ma 


the mov 


РЕТ 


БЕ of Raquel Welch (suffocated), Karin 
teram a Lisi (beheaded), 
oe ө Marilu’ Tolo (drowned). Agostina Belli 
m ed (felled by a falcon Delon 

and Sybil Danning (impaled in Lesbian 


cmbrace by 
Joey Heathert 


a chandelier) plus pert 


1 
т 
1 
П 
' 
|; 
1 
1 
1 
1 | Schubert (shot). V 
1 
T 
П 
1 
1 
å a as the wile who got 


Neither veteran director Edward 
Dmytryk nor the two Lilian writers who 
collaborated with him on this tale of 
mul xoricide seem sure where they 
want to go. Filmed in Budapest, with 
sumptuous period costumes— 
abundance of bare silken skin, as occa 
sion warrants—both Burton and Blue 
beard come dose in spirit to tho: 
red-plush Saturday-matince shockers sta 
ring Vincent Price as Dr. Phibes. The 
movie is bad, but intermittently enjoy 
ble for the sheer mindless ple: 
girl watching some pretty spec 
girls. Raquel. as a religious novi 
а colorful civilian past she wont stop 
talking about, and Virna, as а lady who 
sings too much, merit а nod. And Joey. 
as the uncuddled chorine who ultimate- 
ly spoils her lord and master's murder- 
ous game, almost conquers Bhuebeard's 
idiotic dialog by doing a dumb-blonde 
shtick that —intentional or not—is laugh- 
able beyond words. 


away. 


led box containing the names of 
collaborators is discovered. in 
Austrian аке where it was sunk 
during the frantic final days of. World 
War Two. For reasons of their own, 
secret agents from Russia, China, Israel. 
Austria 
posses and woe be to 
sone who knows its secrets. Readers 
may well recog- 
others are apt 
Helen Maclnnes sus 
pense thriller became a best seller when 
they see the pallid movie venion pro- 
duced by Ingo Preminger, a formula spy 
story steeped in mediocrity from begin- 
to end. Barry Newman, as ihe 
lawyer hero who innocently wanders 
into a nest of vipers, and Anna Kari 
as a murder victim's widow, pe 
adequately with minimal support from a 
miscast company that includes people 
such as lovely Karen Jensen, playing a 
tiple agent whose approach to intern 
tional espionage smacks of hanky- 
on a final exam at Benningto 
might be better olf with the paperback 
edition. 


nize the plot. 
to wonder wh 


The American dream 
it more than go is depicted 
with miraculous sensitivity in The Emi 
grants, a Swedish film that sums up an 
aspect of the Ame experience in 
a manner seldom matched, or even 
attempted, by our moviemakers. 
Based on a Swedish classic by Vil 
helm Moberg, The Emigrants has been 
pted (in collaboration 
with Bengt Forslund), directed. photo 
graphed and edited by 32year-old Jan 
Troell, whose budd: has al- 
ready been hailed by his distinguished 
colleague Ingmar Bergman. ICs casy to 
see why. Max Von Sydow and Liv Ull- 
mann maintain their high standard of 


s pioneers saw 


a century 


own 


Chassis tubesare а major cause of TV 
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os get hat and weaken with 
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It doesn't cover installation, foreign use, antenna 
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Color you can count on. 


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PLAYBOY 


excellence as a poverty-siri 
couple who leave their 
dare death, disease and unbelievable 
squalor on a long ocean voyage to the 
New World. Filmed in Sweden and 
Denmark—with — American — sequences 


shot on locations in Colorado, Minne- 
эма and Wiscon 


The Emigrants 
steeped in the stark beauty of Andrew 
Wyeth landscapes and stormy seascapes 
of Winslow Homer, and may evoke ach- 
ing nostalgia in U.S. viewers whose for 
bears, at one time or another, all set out 
on a desperate adventure much like this 
"The roots of America’s traditional pride 
in herself is felt in the experience ol 
farmer, mother, preacher, callow youth 
nd former slut, each sharing the dream 
reflected in the image of a boy whose ship 
hoard cc consists of teachin 
friend to say. in English, "I am 
new... servant girl.” Troell's epic 
ith the family’s arrival at irs Minnesota 
homestead, and dramatizes ouly the f 
two of four novels by Moberg. If a 
completed. film sequel. The Setilers, 
proves remotely up to its glowing no- 
d. hats olf to Troell for a 
lassi 


10m 


w 


tices abro; 
dual mini 


g teaser heralds Stigma 
ie curse that begins with a kiss.” 
Which is the polite way to promote а hor- 
llick, sort of, about a rampaging army 
of spiroclictes—syphilis расе 
to the screen by а producer and director 
previously associated with such shocke 
as Les Scare Jessica to Death and T 
Drink Your Blood, nasty otc Stigma con- 
cerns a young black physician (Philip M. 
Thomas) who trics to practice medic 
ad coastal resort. where 
ignorance. prejudice and venercal disease 
are epidemic. Some teenagers are attend- 
ing nightly orgies out by the lighthouse, 
for one thing, and the doctor's job is io 
trace the virulent infection back to its 
source, Filmed in and around picturesque 
Gloucester, Massachusetts, Stigma ollers 
clumsy writing and worse direction to 
nullify any resemblance to а serious dra- 
ma about V. D. I the movie were sei 
we doubt that it would include a featured 
spot by Ма io celebrity “Cous: 
in Brucie” Monow, who appears as a TV 
talk-show host ("This is very heavy, Kids") 
introducing a graphic film full of chan- 
cres, swollen joints and even worse m: 
festations of syphilis in the final stages. 
Yuceehhhhh, 


vor 


. Brought 


е 


ious, 


nhat 


The openminded honesty and zest of 
Rip-Of compensate richly for Canadian 
director Donald Shebib's addicion to 
slow-motion running and jumping shots 
set to lyrical rock ballads—« youth film 
cliché that. passed. retirement age several 
». Otherwise, Shebib taies the 

pproach displayed in his 


casyloesit 
rewarding first feature, Goin’ Down the 


Road, and produces an eloquent essay 
on the cagerness and anguish of four 
high school boys experiments 
with sex, drugs, communal living and 
other aspects of the counterculture get 
them precisely nowhere. Though the 
film's title has little relevance to any- 


updated Summer of 42 w 
its quartet of protagonists (Don 
dino and Ralph Endersby, joined by two 
winningly real nonprofessionils, Mike 
Kukulewich and Peter Gross) through 
their juniorsenior growing pains. What 
makes the movie work is the d 
skill at handling actors, combit 
h 
of plain people, young or old; wi 
a poignant sequence in which a loug 
haired boy creeps home at d to 
discover his dad in the kitchen, eati 
st alone, as ust 


, while recalling 
long-lost dreams ol breathless 


adventure. The highlight of the p 
and a fair measure of Shebib's eye lor 
telling det: an ade about a 


a northern wil- 
tend to found 
a commune on property Scardino has just 
inherited. Their various disillusionments 
are capped by a hilarious encounter 
with two businesslike Indians, sensibly 
dressed in lumber jackets and tickled 10 
h by the spectacle of city kids rougl 
n headbands from Woolworths. 


g the new black audience is the 
principal business ol Melinde, with Vo- 
netta McGee as а semi-Mro Laura, mys 
teriously mu rly reels and 
the subject of a nigma there 
after. Written by Lonne Elder II, 
Melinda pretends to be more than a 
melodrama about a gorgeous Californ 
deejay billed as Frankie J. The Joy Man 
yed by Calvin Lockhart with plenty 
of dash and arogance), who gets 
volved with Melinda just before he 
death. “You're beautiful and l'm beauti- 
ful, so its just natural that we should 
ae toward one another" puris 
re. His discovery that the girl wa 
killed because she knew too much about 
the assassination of a black labor leader 
clected to high осе in a bluc-coll: 
union represents a cursory nod. toward 
comtemporary issues, but. Melinda's true 
significance lies elsewhere. The movie is 
a 1972 model of the great American 
dream machine perfected by Hollywood 
decides ago to make white folks feel 
better off than they ever were, Here, the 
myihmakers celebrate a Ше style 
which hip, 
clothes, lounge luxury yachts 
and drive far-out foreign ears—support- 
ed. of couse, by money fom music, 
sports and the rackets, There's a grain 
of social truth buried beneath the sur- 
fice glitter of sex and violence, but 


est 


the groov 


Melinda says it best when Rosalind 
Cash is on the screen, ау Lockhart's 
doggedly loyal mistress. Though she 
plays a chic editor with a closetiul of 
cry vines, Rosalind nev the 
angry spark of a soul sister who has paid 
her dues—twice over. 


loses 


Apocryphal tales of a female Pope 
who ps—just perhaps—occupied 
of St. Peter in Rome some ten 
o are the basis for Pope 
Joon, the most doggedly asinine movie 
of the year, Swedish actress Liv Ullmann 
sprung fom Ingmar Bergman's tho 
ouglibred stable to play the tile role. 
works very hard in a losing battle 
John Briley’s scenario. опе 
pscudohistorical spectacles i 
ve as il their 
and cassocks were getups for the 
ux Aris Ball. It was probably 
а mistake, anyway, to dramatize Pope 
Joan's unauthorized biography as the 
sick ravings of a modern-day lady суа 
gelist who sullers delusions of grandeur 
"Why did you become a monk?" asks 
Liv. “It's the only way 1 could get 
myself into a nunnery,” retorts Ma 
milian Schell, playing an artist-pr 
who paints illuminated п 
murals between 
Lesley Anne Dow iest 
ject). Franco Nero, as a Holy Roman 
Emperor named Louis, looks even sil 
lici, particularly wh. nounces, 
crave an audience "—aà prelude 10 his 
discovery that rhe newly elected: Holy 
Father is the sensual sister he nearly 
seduced several reels earlier, Alas, the 
Pope becomes pregnant as а result of 
this audience—and is torn to pieces by 
the enraged multitudes, exactly as leg 
end shaping а dubious ley 
а passable film proves to be 
beyond the capacities of director Mi 
chael Anderson, who steers even such 
seasoned performers ay Trevor Howard 
and Olivia de Havilland through some 
scruciatingly funny scenes that were un- 
doubtedly meant to be taken seriously 


centuries 


nst 
of th 


which all the acors bel 
cowls 


(winsome 


sub. 


Though Andy Warhol's formerly un 
derground film factory has a reputation 
for turning ont porno-pop epics, its Tat- 
est production, Heat, most c 
vincing movie about Hollywood since 
Sunset Boulevard. which director Paul 
Morrissey sets out to parody and almost 
aes to surpass. Tripling as w 
and photographer as well, Morrise 
his performers invent mar 
ines and becomes so involved in wha 
being said. t most turns his back 
on film technique—yet he may be the 
man to put Warhol movies on the map. 
Heat, an outright steal of Billy Wilder's 
memorable melodrama about а hasbeen 
actress and her p 
man, lacks the sophistication of the 


is the 


ter 
lets 


v of their own 


he 


sion for a younger 


You can take aWhite Horse anywhere 


European cars used to come two ways. Plain and inexpen- 
sive, or sexy and expensive. 

Then along came Capri. The first sexy European at a shame- 
fully low price. 

Check Capri’s standard equipment: 

Inside, it offers glove-soft vinyl bucket seats. (Sit inside one, 
and you get the feeling the whole car’s been custom-built around 
you.) 

In front of you, a handsome, European-styled instrument 
panel, with the rich look of woodgrain. 

(There’s also a special instrumentation group: tachometer, 
oil pressure gauge, ammeter, temperature and fuel gauges. Stand- 
ard on the V-6, optional on the 2000.) 

The steering is rack-and-pinion; the type found on Europe’s 
finest Grand Prix racing cars. 

And the gearshift gives you four forward speeds that let you 
really take over. 

Check also: Power-assisted front disc brakes. Styled steel 
wheels. Front and rear stabilizer bars. Radial ply tires. АП stand- 
ard. (Standard. Think of it.) 

Now, for the latest options. For a little extra, you can have 
а вип roof, vinyl top, select-shift automatic transmission and spe- 


cial decor group shown at left. 

But with Capri, it’s not the options you get for paying a little 
extra that count. It’s the standard equipment you get for paying so 
little. 

That’s why, after only two years, Capri’s outselling every 
European car in America, except one. 

And we’re still moving up. 


Capri.The firstsexy European at a shamefully low price. 
Imported for Lincoln-Mercury. 


1973 cars must meet Federal emissions standards before sale. 


original, yet Morrissey loads his brash 
little broadside with something else—a 
pop artist's appreciation of the seedy 
world bounded by Strip motels and opu- 
lent mansions, where somebodies bump 
pelises with nobodies and everybody 
comes up a loser in the end. The meati- 
est bits fall to Sylvia Miles, as Sally 


Todd, а dimly glimmering former starlet 
who reappears on TV game shows to 
support her 36-room ion and a 


kinky daughter named Jessica (Andrea 


wanders Joe Dallesandro (star of War- 
hol's Trash and Flesh) as Joey Davis, a 
semipro stud пе boy wonder 
of such TV cl he Big Ranch and 
Mousetime He's dead right as a 
male version of those bcautilul-but- 
dumb things whose best lines burst out 
of their swimsuits. And Sylvia delivers a 
ently funny, occasionally touching 


m for Midnight Cowboy. De- 
digressions into pure-camp homo- 
al comedy, Morrissey ns his 
vision of a seamy Sunset Boulevard 
where absolutely nothing works any- 
more—not the movie business itself, not 
s and layabouts flaunting 
t poolside nicke 
and-dime motel, not even the goddamn 
gun that fails to go olf when the spurned 
heroine wies to shoot her paramour in 
Heat's impish amiclimax. 


RECORDINGS 


Spencer Davis, who has been playing 
rock and folk music since the Fifties, is 
one of those relaxed ngaging gui 
tarists who have, willfully or not, stayed 
out of the public eye and avoided the 
nsanity of pop stardom, Mousetrap (Unit 
ed Artists) proves that he has not been 
idle. Davis and Tret Fure sing and play 
dual acoustic guitars in a tasteful, sub. 
dued style that ranges from British folk 
to Nashville, from Leadbelly to Delaney 
& Bonnic, The accompanying musicians 
are superb, consisting of people such as 
Lee Sklar, Kelner, Ernie Watts, 
juz uumpet great Harry ("Sweets") Edi 
son and Sn Pete Kleinow | (who 
produced the album). Traditional folk 
seems lately to be reaching a new and 
interesting accommodation. with rock. 
This disc shows how it's happening. 
Two morc artists who have come out 
from under the bushel are Roy Buchanan 
and Eric von Schmidt. Buchanan, the 
legendary rock guit а 
played in Washington, 
with his regular bar 
ers. He travels little, has had no previous 
recordings, wa 1 to join The Rolling 
Stones after Brian Jones died—and re- 
fused. у. after a sold-out Carnegie 
Hall concert and some NET specials, 
he was induced to make Rey Buchanan 


for years 


71 


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(Polydor), which in fact shows that he 
can play rings around most any rock g 
tarist alive. He sticks mostly to coum 
nd blues, but there are a fine bayou 
music cut, Cajun. and a nod to the old 
days, Hey. Good Lookin’, that will knock 
you out. Eric von Schmidt is a central. if 
figure in the American folk 
He appeared on the cover of 
nd 
Bob has reciprocated with a paste-on 
blurb for Eric's 2nd Right 3rd Row (Poppy). 
his first record in three years. Word has 
it that Dylan and Garth Hudson, among 
other notables, sat in for some of these 
sessions. The album is about as quitky 
and eccentric as anything you'll hear. but 
nonetheless an absolute delight, with 
tunes about wet birds lying at night, 
Nixon in China, a beautiful love bal 
(The Letter) and one really n 
song about money and power and thi 
consequences (Believer). To paraphrase 
а thought from one of these songs: This 
album should set Von Schmidt out of 
the woodwork and into your head, 
Bonnie Koloc docs four original songs 
on her new album, Held On to Me (Ova 
tion). In one, Every Day II. she sings 
“Any day, any way, you've got to get 
just a Jitte bit of what you can.” Um 
fortunately. those lyrics apply all too 
well to this al Although her voice 
is superb and her band rocks beter than 
ever. the album is choppy. Side two is 
marred by her misinterpreiation of John 
Prine’s Angel from Montgomery but 
is considerably enhanced by Jackson 
Browne's Jamaica and David Bromberg’ 
Diamond Lil, both of which show her 
voice at its best. Side one almost f 
10 take off altogether, although another 
orig seet Mama. is the best of the 
lot. It begins, "She's a woman: that lady 
is a bitch.” It is just that paradox 
uncertainty in her selection of mat 
that prevents Miss Koloc [roi 
kind of recognition her voice deserves. 


у 


Valerie Simpson ( lama) is polished, per- 
fected pop by a Motown girl who ought 
to be bener known. She can sing with 


the best of them—in Carole King-style 
tunes (Benji). poplotim à Ыы Aretha 
(Could Have Been Sweeter) or funky 


The message 
nius I) don't 
-ric's expressive 


wb (Drink the Wine) 
numbers (Genius 1 and 
come off as well, but V 
voice and good taste consistently do. Her 
backir t throughout. 


s are excell 


On the Iront cover ol Carney (Sheltei 
is Leon Russell looking like death in his 
carnival barkers make-up, On the buck, 
he’s sitting in front of a small trailer to 
which is attached his Rolls Royce. Dig the 
ambivalence? The music pursues this 
theme. You can imagine him s 
“Although I'm Mr. Pop Supers 


with 


supersize spread and recording studio in 
Oklahoma. etc, life is like a crummy 
carnival for me . . „ with all its ache: 
and joys and sordid impermanencies 


That kind of thing. The songs are 
disappoi e Acid Annapo 
lis, downright awful—and Leon's man 
nered singing makes it only occasionally 


This is sad. be 
ticularly his p 


isc Russell's talent. par 
no playing, has always 
у. he has put 
a “rock'n'roll circus" that is 
the country. So Carney may be 
nother part of the act 


Anthony Newman plays Buch like а 
man possessed—and you never heard it 
The x Brandenburg Concertos 

played by harpsichordist 
und “Friends” (most 


so good 
(Columbia). 
conductor Newma 


ly young). are given electrifying and 
expressive readings. which Newman 


borate B 


achieves through €l roque em 


hellishment, changes in phrasing and 
tempo variation. Several authentic old 
instruments are uscd, for the most part 


and the leader's harpsichord playing— 
heard to advantage in the cadenza of 
Number Five—is positively bril 
Some will take issue with the fast tempi 
or with the set's most radical gesture, in 
serting the D Minor Organ 
Number Three to fill the gap in Bach's 
anuscript: but these performances 

all of them, the most open. sonorous and 
al ones you can find. 

Gene Ammons has a tough, tough al 
bum in Free Again (Prestige). which, we 
hope. will help put him back on top. 
ng. rocking band 
a dazrling 
ng Ammons tenor. 
nages to turn the rather 
and ballad What Are 
You Doing the Rest of Your Life? into a 
Һау tour de force. The backup band, 
widentally, reads like a roster of 
all-stars. The swinging charts are by con- 
ductor Bobby Bryant. A monster album. 

Organist Shirley Scott should stop be 
ing so damned diffident. She's an inven 
tive, tive 1 and she's the 
name on top ol the title of her latest 
LP, Leen on Me (Cadet). So why do we 
hear so little of her on the album? We'd 
much rather listen to her than to reed 
men J. Daniel Turner and George Cole- 
man or guitarist Roland Prince, for that 
maner, but Miss Scott keeps much too 
much in the background, Oh 
there, all right—on the likes of Funky 
Blues, You Can't Mess Around with 
Love and Carla's Dance—but if you've 
got it, Shirley, Haunt it. 


musi 


she's 


Having tenor man Stanley Turrentine 
join Iorces with the M. f. Q's estimable 
Milt Jackson for rhe album Chery 


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(CTI) was a marriage made in heaven. 
Jackson's. vibework—tastelul, tempered. 
understated—provides the perfect coum 
terpoint for Turrentine’s hard-edged 
tenor sounds. We've never enjoyed Tur 
rentine as much as on this LP, where 
with pianist Bob James, guitarist. Cor 
nell Dupree. drummer Billy Cobham 
and bassist Ron Carter—he and Jackson 
play off marvelously against each other 
on everything from the late Lee Mor 
gan's Speedball to the classic Р Жетет 
ber You. Turrentine and Jackson—a 
duo to conjure with 


How long the Eckstine pipes will hold 
out we wouldn 
Mr. B's booming baritone, incredibly, 
has never sounded so good, We're talk 
ing about Senior Soul (Enterprise). Billy's 
latest album. Eckstine works his 
through fine Artie Butler arrangements 
of such items as Leon Russell's A Song 
for You, Mac Davis J Believe in Music 
and Percy Mayfiekl's Please Send Me 
Someone to Love. Back olf, everybody— 
Mr. B's coming through 


attempt to guess. But 


way 


Her voice is not quite as big as 
Mahalia Jackson's nor as agile as Aretha 
Franklin's, 


but Linda Hopkins will re 
mind you of both ladies, particularly in 
the dramatic Gospel attack she brings to 
all her material. Linde (RCA) 
contains everything from a slick Nancy 
Wilson type of arrangement to 
tempo rock shout. It's both 
for her talents and a documentary of the 
long road she’s traveled between New 
Orleans (with the Southern Harp Spirit 
ual Singers) and Broadway (in the musi 
cab Inner City). As is usua 
productions, the backup musicians 
credit. Which is too bad, since they're 
very capable here. Linda is more than 


Hopkins 


n up 
1 showcase 


capable; she’s gre: 


Lee Konitz’ Spirits (Milestone) is a 
tribute to his onetime jazz associate Len. 
half of the 
tacks are Tristino compositions, three 
others are by the eminent altoist himsell 
while the remaining track, Background 


nie Tristano—more than 


great reed man from 
that Konitz-Tristano era, Warne Marsh 
Echoi 
of Tristano is pianist Sal Mose 
a lot to say on his own. Drummer Mousie 
Carter provide 
four of the items, 
really the 
whole show, with Konitz giving a re 
markable demonstration of а talent that 
more than two decades ago and 


11 


Music, is by anothe 


and extending the musical voice 
who has 


Alexander and bassist 


the rhythm on 
but Konitz 


and Mosca are 


was hug 
has diminished not at 


Dayeté is Zulu for “between man and 
God." It’s the professional name of Todd 
а 2l-year-old San Franciscan 
who has graduated from Oxford's Trinity 


College of Music and has been hailed in 


Cochran, 


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PLAYBOY 


76 


some quarters as a genius. Worlds Around 
the Sun (Prestige) is his first LP as а lead- 
er (hes played on others by Bobby 
Hutcherson and Hadley Caliman). and 
it gives credibility to h 
Bayeté’s work on pi 
nd clavinet has enough. dexterity 
assurance to remind one of all the jazz 
keyboard greats, from Oscar Peterson to 
Jaki Byard: his ci 
ing Hutchi 
right things 
music varies Irom spa 
(Eurus) to fullspeed jamming (Л Ain't, 
Bayete) 10 near rock (Free Angela, I'm 
On In—and its all pretty distinctive. 
It's appropriate, too, that Bayeté is on 
Prestige: alier all, Miles, Coltrane and 
Rollins were once the 


man) do all the 
right The 
ymoody sounds 


e. 


Les McCann would seem to have 
nothing left to prove; but Talk to the 
People (Atlantic) is an car opener, any- 
way. McCann sings better than we've 
ever head him on the title tune and on 
Stevie Wonder's ballad Seems So Long: 
his electrickeyboard work and Keith Lov- 
ings guitar get into some loving dialogs 
on the instrumental ballad She's Here 


ad on North Carolina, a funky-buit 
number (both are Met аһ). 
With King Curis dead and gone 


Gi 
far 1 


field. Qi 


over Washington. 
nher- 


Jr. is making a bid 
g in the ules 
All the King’s Horses (CTI). he 
line between jazz and pop very 
y. superimposing some avant-gardish 
and some  timecasi 
phrases on the basic funk rhythms of the 
title tune (an. Aretha Franklin composi 
hers Lean on Me. 
Several tunes. including Lover Man and 
Love Song 1700, feature orchestral back. 
ig. charted by Bob James, and the result 
tasteful middle-of-the-road approach. 


clusters. 


note 


It's not art on a Coltrane level, nor is it 
as funky as, say, Aretha herself; but 
there's a dor to listen ta here and most 


1. 


ind 

Buddy Guy & Junior Wells Play the Blues 
(Atco) is a welcome reunion and a con- 
vincing program of indi sic such 
as 4 Don't Kuow, Bad Bad Whiskey, T- 
Bone Shuffle and Juniors wellremem: 
bered Messin’ with the Kid—plus some 
Guy originals (This Old Fool and A Man 
of Many Words, part of which is а cop 
from Otis Redding's Hard to Handle). 
In the backup battalion are pop stars 
such as Dr. John and Eric Clapton (one 
of the producers of the album). but 
they're in the background, as they should 
De. while the blues are up front. Still 
and all, despite the tight execution, 
there's something lacking: the LP just 
doesn't have the spirit of the cuts Buddy 


of it is pleasi 


эп, 


and Junior made some years back for 
nguard. Maybe it’s just the inevitable 
tition of the blues life. 

Reed man Joe Henderson. on the 
back cover of Black is the Color (Mile. 
stone), explains that the selections were 
originally cut free style—bur that pat- 
ns were added through the miracle 
of overdubbing when new ideas came 
up at playback time. We'd never know 
if he hadn't told us, since the music is 
ly together. Henderson's colle: 
include such plished perlor 
the omnipresent Ron Carter, 
De Johnette, David Holland and Airo 
Morcira. Everything works on such items 
as Foregone Conclusion, a straishvahcad 
the озсөріс Terra Firma 
cooker; and free-form tracks such 
as the lyrical title ume and Current 
Events, which employs electronic sounds 
ish feelin 


асса пз 


Jack 


e suppose we're just a pl. 
Vernon every ti 
his mouth, we laugh. With that so-bad 
it'sgood monotone of his, Jackie could 
recite the phone book and get yoks. On 
Sex Is Not Hazardous to Your Health (Beverly 
Hills). he has the material going for him. 
too. Jackie, as Dr. Leonardo Hughes, 
answers sex questions and—with some 
help from Tom (Fiorello) Bosley. Mar 
Mercer of The Dean Martin Show and 
Goldie Hawnish Louisa Moritz—tickles 
а lot of funny bones. To wit: "Whats 
transvestite, doctorz" “Hes a man who 
would give you the skirt off his back." 
“Does the pill have any unpleasant side 
effects?” "No, they're all in the йош” 
"What should 1 do about very small 
sts, doctor? 


patsy 
he opens 


bre 


Many a man with very 
small "What docs a female 
homosexual prostitute do?” “Depends 
how much money you have.” “Doctor, 


about sex do me 
mos?” “How about it?” "What 
sex offender?" "A man who docs every- 
ng to a girl that other men do but 
'glects to buy her dinner first.” “Wha 
gay bar, doctor?” “А five-cent candy 
m by choreographers." АП that and 
more—plus the Vernon nondelivery. 


what q 


TELEVISION 


Out there in televisionland. where а 
majority of every season's programs seem 
ned 10 confirm Н. L. Mencken's 
observation Хо one ever went brake 


derestimating the taste of the Ameri- 
ı public,” the of light— 
al TV may 


ng out of its ghetto into prime 
time on major networks. On November 


14 on NBC. British ist Alistair 
Cooke—whose chor urator of 
t year's BB y уз 


wives and the reign of Elizabeth 1 made 


Tudor England vi 
American viewers—began performing a 
comparable service for the former Colo- 
nies with a 13-weck series titled America: 
Personal History of the United 
States.” Sponsored by Xerox, this BBC 
coproduction (in association with Time 
Life Films) also enlists producer-director 
nd many of the talents re- 
sponsible for Kenneth Clark's memorable 
Civilization series in 1971. 

A sampling of the hourlong segments. 
for the 10-11 т-м. (Eastern si 
ic) slot on alternate Tuesdays, sus 
gests that America will fulfill its promise 

banely infa 


d to millions of 


nd 


ve interpretation 
of history by Cooke, who has covered this 
county lor The Manchester Guardian 
for more than three decades. Bent on do 
ing the shows where history was actually 
made, Cooke moves from Concord Bridge 
to Williamsburg, for example. to report 
оп the Revolution, abetted by American 
art and music of the period. Content 
porary relevance comes through when 
Cooke visits Boston's Old South Meeting 
House, that “cradle of sedition,” to find 
the Boston Massacre “not unlike the ap 
pearance on a college campus of the Na 
tional Guard 


s of the main cur 
n life, though necessarily 
abbreviated, are shrewd and untainted 
by condescension. One installment. “In- 
venting a Nation,” briskly describes (he 
struggle of the founding Fathers to create 
the first modern democracy worthy of 
ncient Greece" and lucidly lays out the 
origins of conflicts and controversies that 
have split the country up to the present 
dlay—the break between young America’ 
Eastern intellectual elite (represented by 
“learned and graceful 18th Century men 
such as Jefferson) and the rugged fron- 
tiersmen who pushed West. “A Firebell 
in the Night” offers a clear-eyed view of 
il War period, with character 
Шу dry asides by Cooke about the 
White House's Lincoln bedroom, which 
“has accommodated heads of state, Prince 
P Bob Hope” A later episode, 
Money on the Land," ollers 
lively economic history of the U. 5. 

Its ironic that the first attempt at a 
history of this country should come to 
U. S. television more or less as a British 


the Ci 


short. 


трон ned out 

until 3, target date for the pre- 
miere of a Wolper Productions-Americin 
“docu 


long 
—more be 


here series—key episodes of An 
painstaking detail. as 
1 been there at the time 
le, America is a treat lor those 
nong us whose pride im their mative 
nd has survived both the Vietnam war 
and The Beverly Hillbilli 


Which is the $280" receiver? 


Kind of hard to tell from the picture, 
isn't it? 

Both of these new Sylvania receivers 
have a lighted slide-rule dial. Both 
have the same flywheel tuning. The 
same stereo balance, treble and bass 
controls. Seven identical pushbutton 
functions. Six toggle switches. All the 
controls are large, sturdy, professional- 
looking. 

Checking out the jackplate won't 
help much, either. Both have remote 
speaker jacks, aux input, and tape in- 
put and output jacks with tape moni- 
tor function. Two phono inputs for 
both magnetic and ceramic cartridges, 
an A.C. circuit breaker, and a matrix 
four-channel output with on-off switch 
to handle the new quadraphonic sound. 

It's the side view that gives it away. 
The $280 receiver is about 2 inches 


deeper. That's because it’s got more 
guts. It’s rated at 50 watts continuous 
power per channel. Both channels are 
driven into 8 ohms for a distortion of 
less than 0.5%. And at $280 that’s a real 
bargain. 

The $200* receiver is rated at 25 
watts continuous power per channel 
with both channels driven into 8 
ohms. Which is still nothing to 
sneeze at. 

Still don’t know which is which in 
the picture? Heres a hint: The one on 
the bottom is tops. 

See them both at your Sylvania 
dealer. 

He'll help you make sure you get the 
right one. Sylvania Entertainment Prod- 
ucts Group, Batavia, N. Y. 


GD SYLVANIA 


*Based on Manufacturer's suggested list price lor CR2742A ($190.05) and CR27 43A ($279.95) 


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THE PLAYBOY 


ADVISOR 


Least summer. 1 visited the Louvre, and 
of all the paintings and sculptures of 
the male nude, I can't remember one that 
had a circumcised penis. Is there any 
reason for this?—C. C., Chicago, Illinois. 

None that is known with certainty. 
One possibility is that, among Chris- 
tian nations, circumcision has become a 
popular operation only in this century. 
Previously, it was routinely practiced. 
primarily by Jews and Muslims. Most of 
the art in the Lowe is by Christian or 
pagan artists, since Jews and Muslims 
took the Second Commandment literally: 
Thou shali not make unto thee any 


graven image. ” (Granted that in 
apparent violation of this, there are 


copies of the Koran containing pictures 
of holy men.) H's unlikely, therefore, that 
Jewish or Arab artists would have painted 
or sculpted the human form at all and 
equally unlikely that devont jews or 
Muslims wohl have posed, clothed or 
nude, jor Christian агим». 


AAS a college student about to choose а 
major field of study, I'm curious as to 
ıt type of business in the United States 
ght be the most profitable—imd therc- 
fore probably the highest paying in the 
long run for me to enter when 1 gradu- 
ate. Do you have the facts?—B. F., New 
York, New York. 

There ave many ways of compuling 
the profitability of a business. Basing tt 
om the return. on stockholders’ equity, 
the return on sales and the return on 
total capital Jor the years 1969, 1970 and 
1971, the five most profitable industries 
are: pharmaceuticals, mining, soaps and 
cosmetics, tobacco, and scientific and 
Photographic equipment. Potential prof 
Hability for un individual within a par- 
ticular industry, however, would depend 
upon a person's talent for the job, his 
intelligence, knowledge, ambition, cour- 
age and other factors. 


МІ, problem is that I keep thinking 
my hancée is stepping out on me, even 
though 1 really know better. 1 love her 
deeply and don't want to lose her; how- 
ever, E have absolutely nothing on which 
to base my suspicion that she шау be 
twotiming me. I often get depressed 
and ask her if she still loves me, and 
though she assures me that she does, 1 
can't quite believe her and somet: 


as far as to check up on her a 


She is an immensely att 
1 keep thinking other n st be 
interested in her and, after all, what is 
to prevent her from being interested in 
them if they have more to offer dian 1 
do?—L. R., Muscatine, Іоу. 

How much you have to offer your fian- 
све is really for her to decide, isn't it? 


clive girl 


What prevents her from being more inter 
ested in others than in you is that, after 
all, you're Ihe one she's in love with. Your 
own insecurity, fostered by your lack of 
self-esteem, may make it difficult for you 
10 believe Ihis—which means you can try 
to persuade yourself of this obvious fact, 
discuss the problem of your unfounded 
jealousy with her in hopes that addi- 
tional expressions of affection on her 
part will help convince you of the truth 
of the situation or—as а last resort— 
seek professional help. 


Fhe been considering purchasing а boat 
and also buying a chronometer for 
it. 1 would, however, like to know the 
purpose of a chronometer, why they're 
relatively expensive (as compared with 
most ordinary watches) and what the dif- 
Terence is between a chronometer and a 
onograph.—P. A., Portland, Oregon. 

Briefly, a chronometer is an accurate 
timepiece useful Jor determining longi 
tude at sea. It is usually enclosed in a 
case and suspended in gimbals so that it 
remains horizontal, despite the ship's 
motion. Larger and heavier than an ordi- 
mary clock or watch, it’s also relatively 
immune to the effects of heat and cold. 
А good chronometer is accurate to within 
a second per day. A chionograph is 
amply а device јо coordinating a se- 
quence of events with the passage of 
time. А stop watch is one example, an 
electrocardiograph (which plots the beats 
of a heart against time via а pen and à 
roll of paper) is another, and an osil- 
lograph—an electronic instrument with a 
viewing, screen on which one can watch 
sis yet another, provided the 
X or the Y axis is a time scale, 


sine 


For our wedding a few months ago, a 
friend р; agnum ol champagne, 
suggesting we save it for а special осса- 
sion. 1 can think of any number of 
spe ns but am c 
how long the champagne 
keep.—D. M., Miami, Florida. 
1} your champagne is nonvintage, it 
should be within a jew 
months of the purchase date. Vintage 
champagne, however, can usually be kept 
for eight to ten years—under the proper 
conditions—jrom the year on the label. 
If the champagne is of really high qual- 
ity, it may keep a few years longer, but 
by the lime it's 20 years old, it will prob- 
ably be undrinkab 
vinlages, however, may last even longer, 
depending, on storage conditions.) 


ve us a n 


1 occasi 


Is as do 
пеН will 


consumed 


n (Some very great 


Bye read a Jor about mate swapping and 
sex orgies but I can't seem to locate 
where any of this is happening. Both my 


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nd I would like to share sex with 
others but have never had the opportu. 
nity 10 do so. How do you approach 
old friends without possi 


wile 


ly offending 
them by merely suggesting sharing or 
swapping? How do you know up froni 
that you won't lose their friendship aver 
a sexual encounter, or that they won't fecl 
jealous or guilty about such an episode? 
—A. G.. San Amonio. Texas. 

Perhaps your friends are as eager as 
you and your wife. Disereetly soundi 
them out is the only way lo produce the 
response you're seeking. On the other 
hand, you may have to find new friends. 
You could by ads in newspapers and 
magazines published for just the pur 
pose you have іп mind. Don't be too 
surprised, incidentally, if you find your 
self subject 10 some of the same hang-ups 
and emotional reactions you fear. Atti 
tudes ingrained by society run so deep 
you may not he prepared for your own 
responses once involved in а swapping 
or orgy situation 


IM, husband is a handsome, well buitt 
man—but built on a small scale: he 
barely reaches 55” in his shoes. He's 


fashion-conscious and, of course, long 


t looks great on a 
six-foot model doesn't necessarily look 
as good when sealed down to his di 
mensions. Since he occasionally comes to 
me for advice, my question is: What 
styles in suits. shirts, slacks. sports coats. 
cte, arc best for the smaller man? Mis 
T. M, Oakland, California. 

Айше your husband to stay away 
from double-breasted suits or jackets and 
to purchase only two- or three-button 
single-breasted models. He should avoid 
the currently popular superwide Lipel, 
sticking to longer lapels of awe 
width. Darker suits and jackets in sub- 
dued patterns will prove flattering and 
vertical stripes—newer — horizontal—in 
shirts, slacks, jackets and suits will do 
much to lend an appearance of height. 
Also su; 


gest he stay away from wide 
go with the 


spread shirt collars and 
Jushionable Tong-poinis. 


automobiles, 
› of onc 
-D. S. 


д recent ad lor Volvo 
seven cars were stacked. on 
another. How did they do 
Chicago, Illinois. 

The ad was originally brain-stormed 
several years ago and turned down by 
the ad agency because of the potential 
expense. Then a Gulf Coast hurricane 
swept through a Mobile, Alabama, stor- 
age lot leased by Volvo and the result 
was a cheap supply of cars internally 
ruined by the sult water but externa.ly 
unharmed. A concrete platform was 
built so the cars wouldn't sink into the 
ground and pallets 
the cars for balance. The ad was shot 
several times on a windy day with guy 
wires stabilizing the cars. The last shoot 
ing was actually a short art film and 


e placed betwren 


MIDNIGHT AUTO SUPPLY DON’T CARRY IT. 


inna cial Home Unit. you can hide 
it oway in yer car trunk. Go see yer Craig 
Dealer. He can get it for you 1: 


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CAL STEREO: 


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PLAYBOY 


82 


DUDLEY 
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Name- 


Address — —— 


City. State Zi 


j featured The Rascals play 


ng “Beautiful 
Morning” while the cars slowly toppled 
10 the ground (lo be resurrected when 
the footage was subsequently run back- 
ward). Sic wansit gloria Volvo. 


Like many men 
day with a ban 
wile, who is a tig 


1 dig starting out the 
Unlortunately, my 
ss at night, is a rather 


reluctant sex partner in the morning. 
How can 1 arouse her enthusiasm for 
AM, & Акоп, Ohio 


Your wife might find morning sex 
distasteful for any number of reasons (if 
she's like many other women). Perhaps 
she's put off by the combination of 
morning mouth and your unshaved, 
scratchy face; or she likes making love in 
the dark; or she’s worried that the kids 
might barge into the тоот; or she's 
concerned about getting up to go to 
work and/or do her household. chores; 
or maybe she's just operating on a meta- 
bolic schedule different from yours, so 
that waking up—sexually and otherwise 
—takes longer for her. (Most women 
enjoy, and sometimes even require, more 
foreplay und romance than is usually 
generated by а morning quickie.) To 
find out what your wife's specific objec- 
tion is, youll have to ask her, Or try 
to alleviate all the possible objections 
we've mentioned on a weekend morn- 
ing; then perhaps you can convince her 
that sex is the greatest wake-up exercise 
since deep knee bends. 


A friend has some 


aysoy and wonders 
worth. Сап you give me 
Houston, Texas, 

“The Flea Market Shopper” values the 
first issue of vLavwoy (December 1953) 
at between $150 and S200. The January 
1954 issue ts worth SIS and February, 
S40. All other issues in 1951 are valued 
al an estimated 525 cach, Issues in 1955 
presumably sell for between $12 and 
515, wuh the price declining rapidly 
after that. The value of old magazines, 
of course, depends largely on age and 
condition—and on whether or not you 
can find a buyer. 


carly 
what 


issucs of 


ad I attended 
nds ob the 


FRecently, my girlfriend 
а wedding (we're both I 
room). However, we ended up in an 
yument over how we should address 
the card on the gilt we tok to the 
wedding. She maintained that only the 
bride's name should appear on the enve- 
lope; 1 said that both the bride's and 
the bri mes should ap 
pear, Which is correct 1.. Detroit, 
Michigan 

Jf the gift ix sent to the bride's home 
before the wedding, then only the bride's 
maiden name should appear. If it's taken 
to the reception, then the envelope is 
properly addressed to Mr. and Mrs. 
There is no reason, however, to send а 
gift in advance or even to take one to the 


reception. In the future we suggest that 
you wait until the couple have settled 
into their home, then determine what 
they need. This way, you avoid giving 
them а fifth. toaster or a third. pepper 
mill. 


Matter purcha 


component 


g a rather 
stereo system, 1 


expensive 
started re 


ceivil unlimited advice from friends 
on its care and maintenance. One ex. 
Serviceman even suggested that I leave 


the power on at all times, on the theory 

sudden surges of current when I 
п it on could eventually prove harm 
ful to the equipment. Is this wue2—S. T. 
Lincoln, Nebrask. 

Heavy-duty electronic equipment in 
broadcast and recording studios, П 
as on board ships and at military instal- 
lations, is sometimes kept continuously 
turned on in a standby condition, ready 
for instant use. This is wasteful and 
unnecessary for the home music system, 
however. 


С... you tell me how the number ot 
American soldiers killed in Vietnam 
compares with the number killed in the 
Korean War and in World War Two? 
—Е. C., Cleveland, Ohio. 

American baitle deaths totaled 292,131 
during World War Two, 33,629 during 
the Korean action and 45,817 in Vielnam 
(from 1961 to mid-August 1972) 


Ham pren id while I've decided 
not to drop any acid for the duration, 
Tor fear of damaging the fetus, I wonder 
if 1 have to be as careful about smoking 
pot. Has there any evidence to 
indicate that an occasional joint would 
ham my baby2—Mis. Т. A. Atlanta, 
Georgia 

There is no evidence that we know of 
to indicate that an infrequent toke will 
harm a fetus. However, considering the 
sensitivity of the embryo during the first 
three months of pregnancy ta outside 
influences, including 
infections, chemicals und certain drugs, 
some of which are capable of causing 
birth defects, it might be wise 10 avoid 
use of all drugs during this period. That 
includes caffeine, nicotine, alcohol and 
aspirin, as well as marijuana, LSD and 
the like. I you're unable to go cold 
turkey on cigarettes and coffee, then use 
them in moderation. Why take a chanc 


AU reasonable questions from fash- 
ion, food and drink, stereo and sports cars 
10 dating dilemmas, taste and etiquette 
will be personally answered if the 
writer includes a stamped, self-addressed 
envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy 


Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 N. Michi 
he 


radiation, virus 


gan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611 
mosi provocative, pertinent queries will 
be presented on these pages each month. 


© итг-я.›.нєзноговтовлссосо. 


If you smoke. 


We're not telling you anything you don't know when we 
acknowledge that a controversy about smoking exists. 

And since we're in the business of selling cigarettes, you 
obviously know where we stand. 

If you don't smoke, we're not about to persuade you to 
start. But if you do, we'd like to persuade you to try a cigarette 
you'll like more than the one you're smoking now. 

We mean Vantage, of course. 

Vantage gives you flavor like a full-flavor cigarette. Without 
anywhere near the ‘tar’ and nicotine. 


"That's a simple statement of truth.  vanrace 


ШЇ AI 
| 


| 


We don’t want you to misunderstand 
us. Vantage is not the lowest ‘tar’ and 
nicotine cigarette you can buy. 

Its simply the lowest tar and nicotine 
cigarette you'll enjoy smoking. T 7 

We just don't see the point in / 
putting outa low ‘tar’ and nicotine = 
cigarette you have to work so hard / > 
getting some taste out of, you 
won't smoke it. МА 

If you agree with us, we think you'll 
enjoy Vantage. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 


That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous toYour Health. 
Filter and Menthol: 12 mg. “tar”, 0.9 mg. nicotine—av. per cigarette, FTC Report Aug. 72. 


8 


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beautifully crafted, terrific sounding Magnavox console 
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stereo consoles—armoires, credenzas, étagéres, 

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Buta lot of other people get Magnavox components instead. 
Because with all the stereo FM/AM radios, phonographs, 
tape players (8-track, cassette, reel-to-reel) Magnavox 
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THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


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


SHEBOYGAN'S SHAME 

Richard Rhodes’s article Sex and Sin 
in Sheboygan (maynoy, August), which 
described how the prosecution of Jim 
Decko under Sheboygan's cohabitation 
low ruined his life and drove him to 
suicide, has provoked a response from 
the Sheboygan County district attorney, 
Lance Jones. According to The Shebay- 
gan Press, he claimed the article was 
glaringly slamed and containing. many 
misrepresentations and False allegations.” 
and he анакей the belief that lornica 
is a victin e The story 
ther sated 


ew ex 


Jones pointed. out that for the 
year 1971. 92 illegitimacy cases were 
relerred by the Department of Social 
Services 10 the istrict anorne’s of 
fice lor paternity proceedings. 

The сом paid our im aid to 
iwed mothers for support of ille- 
tîme children was over 558.000. 
“Are sex crimes really victimless 
sked the district attorney. 


eri 
we un 
ty and the state ol Wisconsin can. 
nos" 


aswer with 
But Jones stressed that not the tix- 
yers but the children re the most 
ic victims of illegal relationships. 


Jones is the D. A. who had jurisdiction 
n Decko's case. His. 


and pressed. charges 
explanation looks path 
John Lyo 
Minneapoli 
Rhoiles’s article left D. А, J 
very lille: ammunition to defend. him- 
sel]. but this line of argument is far- 
fetched, indeed, Consensual sex laws— 
particularly lies. ay unpredictably and 
arbitvavily enforced as Поп ате 
а poor deterrent to illegitimacy: the cases 
cited by Jones are sufficient proof af that 
Jones diit mention that until a 1972 
U.S. Supreme Cont. decision сам doubt 
өп the vonstitutionality of the law, il 
way illegal in Wisconsin to provide con- 
hacehtiwes to the unwed. Perhaps this 
had something Тө do wilh those 92 
caves of illegitimacy in 1971. In any case, 
lim Decko produced no illegitimate 
child. We find Jones's apologia not only 
pathetic but irrelevant 


sort 
пел wilh 


VIRGIN SHORTAGE 

In the chart showing state р 
Jor consensual sex offenses that appeared 
in the August PLAYBOY, you noted that 
the state of Washington includes sex 


lues. 


with the dead as a c 
Since the law doesirt dei 
ing deceased, one m 
for having sex with an unresponsive pari- 
mer, ay well as lor anal. oral or animal 
interconnse. 

You indicated that there's no penaliy 
for fornication here, but that's actually 
included in ihe Laws st sodomy. We 
aho dave a law aginst seducti 

Every person who shall seduce and 
have sexual intercourse with any female 
ob previously chaste character shall be 
punished by imprisonment in the мше 
penitentiary for not more than five (3) 
years or in the county jail for not more 
than one (1) year or by а fine of S1000 
Or by both fine and. imprisonment.” In 
other words, 


against nature 
e dead as be- 


it's a crime to go to bed 
the site of Washington 
Inasmuch as we have had so lew prosc- 
curions under this law, T would assu 


with a vi 


€ be 


that virgins ha 
in the state 


ı in short supply 


Alva C. Long 
Attorney at Law 
Auburn, Washington 


SEX ED VIA COMICS 
While regular readers of PLAYBOY aic 
undoubtedly well informed and. progres 
sive in the area of sexuality. too many 
Americ fail o € 
прокати [acts about sex to our adoles 
cents. ay evidenced by some overwhelm- 
isties from recent 
jı on Population 


is E 


yen. Fer 


id American Еше ve 
ported this year that the birth vate is 
decreasing in every category except 


among м women aged 15 10 19 
whose rare of illegitimate births tripled 
between. 1910 and 1968. The National 
Commission on al Disease esti 
«з that approximately 300,000 te 
ted V. D. last year 

EAU Press, the publishing division of 
the nonprofit 


mily Plaunin 


ion Comer at Syracuse 
University, is atte 10 disseminate 
important infor through the me 
dium of educational comic books. The 
first of these, Ten Heavy Facts About 
Sex, is based on the ten most frequently 
asked questions from a sur ШЕШ 
teenagers. It provides frank, open an 
swers, umttinted by moraliration, on 
subjects. such 
sexuality. mastur 


ulation Milo 


-genital sex, homo- 
ion and penis siz 


Anyone who would like to ob 


Give her the 
fashionably feminine 
new “Lady Sheaffer’. 


A high fashion accessory from the 
“White Dot” collection by Sheaffer, 
Created in precious silver plate with 
deeply-cut filigree to accent 

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PLAYBOY 


copy of this book may write to Ed-U 
Press, 760 Ostrom Avenue, Syracuse, 
New York 13210. Include 25 cents in coin 
or stamps to cover the cost of postage 
and handling. 
Sol Gordon, Ph 
Professor of Child and Family 


Studies 
Syracuse University 
Syracuse, New York 


CONTRACEPTIVE INFORMATION 

1 want to thank rıavysoy lor publish- 
ing the Com Sex Information 
birth-control poster in your 
Many of your readers have called 
pout it. We wrote the 
усш» ago and, since 


over two 


poster 
it was not possible to make editorial 


some information should be 
ed and updated 

1. Vasectomy should be considered а 
permanent operation to prevent preg: 
nancy. Some doctors do claim to be able 
to reverse the procedure 50. percent. of 
the time: however, even after reversa 
the chances of conception. cannot be 
assured. 

2. Intrauterine devices are now being 
used successfully by women who have 
never had children. 

3. Douching should not be considered 
ns of birth control. It is very 
ble. We mentioned it in the post 
‚ however, because many women con- 
ine to use it and regard it as a means 
of contraception 

Our heartiest thanks for lett 
PLAvnoy’s readers know about C. S. L 


changes. 


Ann Welbonrne, Director 


Community Sex Information, Inc. 
New York, New York 


ABORTION MORALITY 

In the July Playboy Forum, James 
Breig agues that a fetus is human and, 
fore, it is the duty of those of us 
are Catholic to impose our beliefs 


4 others) do in the case 
and his 


conclusion are faulty. 
Consider his first point: that the ferus 


is human, Brilliant! No one, including 
probor . denies that, But a h 

man is, by definition, simply another 
kind of what remains to be 


n the fetus reaches the 
ated 


determined is wl 
маце at which it can ре differen 
from other animals and accorded 
life. Now, the fact is that 
people who believe that all hun 
equal rights will grant a [etus fewer 
ighis than a fully developed person. 
псе asked a judge who 
speech at my 


while playing w he answered 
yc Then | asked if а seven 
ог eighi-months-pre woman who. 


knowing the dangers involved, went 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


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


SEAGOING 

NORFOLK. макета his effort to 
modernize the Магу by lifling the ban 
against women sewing on warships, Ad 
miral Elmo R. Zumwalt, Jr. has тип 
into a storm of protest fiom some snil- 
ors’ wives. A group of wives in Norfolk, 
the largest naval base in the world, have 
been circulating petitions opposing the 
idea on various grounds—but the wives! 
main concern seems to be that their 
husbands would combine sailoring with 
sex al the first opportunity. 


KEEP TRYING 

perron—A 2-year-old Detroit wom- 
an obtained a court peace bond to stop 
her husband from beating her. When 
she showed him the document, he forced 
her lo eat il, then beat her again. The 
man pleaded guilty to assault and bat- 
tery and was fined $100. 


LESBIAN COURT VICTORY 

SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA—A 34-year-old 
divorced woman who is an admitted 
homosexual has been granted custody of 
hey three children after a two-year. legal 
battle. The woman's attorneys and the 
Lesbian Mothers Union said the case 
appeared to be the first one in the U.S. 
in which a self-acknowledged gay parent 
has been awarded custody of children. 
The decision stipulated that the mother 
must nol expose them to any homosex- 
ual activity or influences. The children, 
ages 9, 12 and H, testified that they 
knew (heir mother was a Lesbian and 
stated their preference to lve with her 
instead of with their father. 


FRITZ MAKES IT ON GERMAN TY 
Viewets of U.S which 
loves its murder bul is death on sex, can 
only envy Iheir West German counter- 
parts. According to the newsletter Earth 
News, a German TV network recenily 
showed the X-rated cartoon feature 
“Fritz the Cat” with its overt sex scenes 
complete and uncensored, merely advis- 
ing its viewing audience that the film 
was “nol suitable for young children 


television, 


PORN WAR HEATS UP 

Los ANGELES—The Los Angeles Coun- 
dy district attorney's office has wheeled 
out an old law as a new weapon in its 
incessant war on pornography. A spokes- 
man said that California's Red Light 
Abatement Act, an anti-prostitulion law 
passed їп 1915, would be enforced 
against the publishers of sex magazines, 
on the theory that the models who pose 
for the photographs ате performing sex- 
ual acts for рау. 


Primary target of the D. А. has been 
the publishing empire of Milton Luros, 
whose five-acre plant was virtually 
closed denen by а temporary court order 
impounding some 3,000,000 books und 
magazines as evidence. The police 
reportedly stopped. and searched сатх 
leaving the premises to prevent the 
smuggling oul oj any “evidence” by 
employees or visitors. 


ICIAL HANKY-PANKY 

One judge in Michigan and another 
in Los Angeles have been accused of 
improper behavior on and olf the judi- 
cial bench: 

A county district court judge in Mich- 
igan was publicly censured by the stale 
supreme court because he “slapped, pat- 
ted or touched” female court employees 
repeatedly in “a familiar or suggestive 
manner” but mainly because he coeiced 
a female court employee into letting 
him autograph her panties while she was 
wearing them. 

The California Commission оп Judi- 
cial Qualifications has recommended re- 
moval of a Los Angeles municipal judge 
who, among other things, allegedly used 
a battery-powered dildo to jokingly 
threaten lawyers from the public defend- 
ers office into shortening their argu- 
ments in court, 


pn 


ESCAPE CLAUSE FAILS 

TALLAHASSEE, FLORIDA—The state su- 
preme court has ruled that a woman 
cannot sign away her right to alimony 
or support payments nor can a man free 
himself of such financial responsibility 
by means of a contract, A 50-year-old 
man and a 40-year-old woman, before 
they married in 1970, entered into à con- 
tract that sel Ure terms of financial settle- 
ment in the event they ever separated or 
divorced. When a separation did occur. 
and resulted in a legal battle, the state's 
high court invalidated the contract. The 
decision included a quotation attributed 
io Lord Byron: “Women are made 
to be loved—not to be understood.” A 
lower court had awanded the woman 
separation alimony of 51300 a month, 
plus $3000 for attorney's 

In. Sacramento, California, however 
the heiress to (he Kool-Aid fortune agreed 
to dissolution of her ?0-ycar marriage on 
terms that give her former husband ali- 
mony of 52500 a month. 


LIQUOR LIABILITY 

sr mau The Minnesota 
court has ruled that a host who se 
liquor to a minor or to an intoxicated 
person at а private party may be held 


supreme 
s 


liable for that person's actions while 
drunk. The decision extended the state's 
dramshop le to include not just bar- 
lenders and liquor. dealers but also pri- 
vate individuals who serve booze in their 
homes. at [етиу ov wedding receptions 


or on any other social occasion, Twenty 
other states have similar laws, but courts 
Ince applied them only 10 bars and liq- 
wor stores, 


DEATH TO COMPUTERS 
JOHASNESHURG, SOUTH arkica—dn un- 
identified man shot. but failed to kill, 
a computer in the office of a Johannes- 
burg company. The police speculated 
ihat the gunman was a distraught cus 
tomer. Despite jour bullet wounds, the 
machine continued to compute. 


THE MOON MADE ME DO IT 

милли The moon may somehow 
drive men lo murder, according to two 
researchers. at the University of Miami 
School of Medicine, A study of Dade 
County, Florida, murder statistics from 
1956 to 1970 disclosed. that homicides 
consisieutly peaked at [ull moon and just 
afler new moon. The same correlation was 
Jound Jor murder m Cuyahoga County, 
Ohio, although it wus less pronounced. 
Reporting thei [imdings in. Ihe Ameri- 
1 ol Pschiany, Arnold I 
Lieber and Carolyn R, Sherin speculat- 
ed that because the body is at least NO 
percent water, the moons gravitational 
pull could concemably affect human 
mood and behavior by causing cyclic 
changes in water flow within Ihe body's 
nid compartments. 


WOMB FOR RENT? 

vin Аркача 17-year-old Philadel- 
phia man placed a newspaper ad offering 
$10.000 and other benefits 10 а woman 
willing to become pregnant jor the pur 
pose of providing a childless couple with 
а blovd-related baby. After numerous 
women responded, the man confessed the 
ad was merely an experiment to "see 
what it would cost to make such a pur 
chase on the open market” He described 
himself ах an actua 
has been married Jor 21 years, He said 
that the $10,000 proved to be overpricing, 
since а number ө] women offered to per- 
Jorm the requested service free. 


y and a “cad” who 


JACKIE THE RIPPER 

моо Јас the Ripper, the sup- 
posed sex killer who terrorized London 
in 1888 and 1889, may have been a 
woman abortionist mutilated her 
sictins to conceal the faci that they died 
from bungled abortions. Former Scot- 
land Yard official Arthur Butler has 
been working ou the unsolved case since 
his retirement four years ago, and he has 
speculated in a London newspaper arti- 


who 


cle that the killer was not а male sex 
criminal but one of London's midwives 
who performed illegal abortions jor pros- 
Litutes in the city's Last End. 


ABORTION RULINGS 
HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT—For Ihe sec- 
ond time, a Federal court has ruled 


thal Connecticut's siricl abortion law wio- 
lates a woman's rights “to privacy and 
personal choice in matters of sen und 
Jamily” When an 1560 abortion. law 
way struck down by the same court on 
the same grounds last April, Governor 
Thomas J. Meskit called a special session 
of the state legislature, which enacted an 
almost identical statule and stiffened 
abortion. penalties ("Forum Newsfront,” 
July, September). The three-judge panel 
vuled that the new lew was рим as uncon- 


stiutional ау the ald one and issued an 
injunction against its enforcement. The 
state has appealed lo the U.S. Supreme 
Court. 

Elsewhere: 

«in New York, a three-judge 
court has vuled that electio: abortions 
are fully covered under the state's 
Medicaid. program. The decision invali- 
dated a 1971 state Social Services De- 
partment directive 
payments to those abortions deemed 
medically "necesuny.” The court unani- 
mously decided that such a restriction 
would deny indigeni women the equal 
proteciion of the laws to which they are 
constitutionally entitled” Although le- 
gully significant, the ruling does not 


Federal 


restricting Medicaid 


substantially change hospitals’ existing 
abortion policies. A Social Services 
spokesman conceded thut the depart- 


ment, despite its own. directive, had con- 
tinued paying Medicaid. abortion claims 
because “any service administered by а 
doctor is assumed 10 be necessary.” 

* The Michigan court. of appeals has 
ruled that the state's 1816 abortion law 
was enacted to protect women, not 
fetuses, and that the safety of modern 
abortion techniques makes the old law 
The court held that licensed 
physicians cannot be prosecuted for per 
Jonning abortions in accredited hospi- 
tals or clinics during the first trimester, 
but the decision will probably have no 
effect on abortions т the state pend- 
ing ils review by higher courts. 

* 4 new Gallup Poll indicates that 
more Americans than 


obsolete 


y—incliding a 
majority of Catholics—now believe “the 
decision to have an abortion should be 
made solely by а and her 
physician." In the nationwide survey 
61 percent of the respondents favored 
completely elective abortion, fire percent 
had no opinion, and of the dissenting 31 
percent, two ont of three would approve 
of abortion when a pregnancy endangers 
the mental health oj the woman. 


woman 


horseback viding and killed ihe child 
she was carrying could be c m 
homicide also. This time his answer 
as по, Clearly, it would be denied that 
the fetus had a right 10 Tile in the latter 
case, yet most people who oppose abor- 
tion would not be overly concemed, А 
more graphic example is that of the 
Pregnant woman. who wil 
she gives birth 
unanimous agreement that the 
should be aborted even tho 
two students were otherwise ар; 
tion. tight to life took 
precedence over that of the unborn 
fetus. Thus. not only do many people 
disagree on whether or not a [etus is 
human but even these who think it is 
human are usually prepared 10 give it 
fewer rights 
Breig's second 
ity must be legi 
abortion, as it is for 
murder, the morality 
clear, and so it is acceptable ro tell the 
populace not to Kill. The morality of 
however, is nor clear at all and. 
у different opinions, we 
nor force others to accept the 
ethics of a few. A Euge percem 
the population doesn’t believe 
fetus is human. A kage percentage of 
the remainder feel that it is not quite 
human. ог 


surely die if 


In my dass, Шеге was 
fetus 


The won 


gumeni is that moral 
the case ol 
Bur with 


be accorded arc more limited ıh 
а fully developed person. 
the only avenue open to reasonable pew 
ple in such troversial am: 
allow the individ 


FREEDOM OF CHOICE 

In his lener in the September Playboy 
Forum, Кайа J. € es hat it 
is evil to Kill the human fetus. Who says 
Not my conscience IE Greene i 
against abortion, that's bis business 
only his business. lm not against it 
if abortion, 1 de 
right to choose, 


amd 
nd the 


need an 


Mrs. Kitty Васо, R. N. 
Southgate, Michigan 


NO-FAULT DIVORCE 
Most attomeys oppose the concept ol 


no-fault divorce because it eliminates 
the need for a lawyer. However, the 
delegates to the New Orleans American 


Bar Association convention, who rejea- 
cd the principle of nodault. divorce as 
described by Lou J. Filezer in the Aw- 

st Playboy Fonun, were influenced 


by more than merely the grounds. for 
divorce when they voted down the pro- 
prope 


was called. the 


posal. The 
Uniform Mar 


just the 


PLAYBOY 


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Û Charge to my Playboy Club credit Key no. [ T T 


Wy name 


Address 


settling cases in which the parents op- 
pose the nı : and a “third lawyeı 
а. which would allow the court to 
appoint a lawyer to represent the chil- 
dren in a divorce case, so that the father 
might have to pay three lawyers instead 
of two. There was even a clause. that 
would have required a divorced father 
10 continue to pay support alter his 
death! These clauses and others through: 
out the proposal are in direct conflict 
with what the divorce-reform movement 
advocates, and we applaud the A. B. A. 
for having the good sense 10 defeat that 
proposal. 

We run an or n in Minneapo: 
lis built on the no-fault concept and on 
there is no need to destroy 
а person's life because of a divorce. If a 
couple's n e is dead, we teach them 
how 10 bury it as quietly as possible. 

Chuck and Donna Thibodeau 
Divorce Education Associ 
Minneapolis. 


CREDIT-CARD ALIENATION 

Dale D. DeWalt’s lerer, ir Shake 
for in the September Playboy 
Forum s some good. points, but I'd 
like to point out that married women 
also aren't getting a [air shake. Im par 
ticularly angry about the matter of credit 
cards If Mary Jones marries John 

i y of her credit cards have to 
I to read Mrs. John Smith. 
Mary's name and her identity disappear 
altogether. Also, when she registers her 
last name and address she has to 
e a new application for credit, be- 
cause, as one ardit-card agency told me, 
she might get pregnant and have to quit 
working. Ihe fact that married woman 
might not intend to get pregnant, or that 
she would not let childbirth interfere 
with her job, makes no difference. We 
are all lumped together and treated the 
My income was not even con- 


same way 
sidered by the credited со 
alter 1 married: all they wanted to know 
was my husband's income 
Im returning each and every credit 
cud that doesnt bear n 
along with a letter expl 
the company wants to sc 
it cand and keep a good customer, it must 
send it in my пате 
Irene I 
Framiny 


own name, 
If 


id another cred- 


Guild 
m. Massachusetts. 


TRIAL COMMITMENTS 

An August Forum News[ront 
about my “trial marriages” repeated a 
few misconceptions perpetrated by other 
media. In the first place, the ceremony 
is called а Celebration of Commitment 
d is specifically not a marriage. Also, 
you noted that its legality hay not been 
tested: this is true, but only because a 
religious vite has no legal standing. The 
law ness interfering with the 


iem 


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Johnnie Walker Black Label Six-Pack, about $60. Sold separately, about $10 a fifth. 


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Ifyou think that’s because of the palm 
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It was because the rum was great. 
Don Q? Ihe best-selling rum inthe 
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the others five to one where rum is 
a way of life. Don О is light, bright 
and refreshing. And 
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©1972 DON Q® IMPORTS, HARTFORO, CONNECTICUT, RUM 80 AND 151 PROOF. 


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PLAYBOY 


is an unenforced law against cohabita- 
tion. 


Since they are not married, the 
ар to live together fol- 
опу are violating the 
ing my blessing 10 the 


It is about time that religion, usually 
at best neutral, took a 
erating stance in our socie- 
ty. I hope I have taken a small step in 
that direction. 
The Rev. Adrian L. Melott 
Unitarian Universalist Fellowship 
‘Tampa, Flor 


GAY PROBLEM CENTER 

is a residential treatment 
xual men and women 
з trouble with drug 


Stonewall 
center for homo 
who have been 
addiction, alcoholi 
started in Seattle last year by a number 
of gay people who feel that heterosex- 
uals do not know how to handle the 
problems of homosexuals. It was also 
started to provide an alternative for gays 
a prison term. 
now, nearly all organizations such 
is Synanon and Phoei House, to which 
people could be probated or paroled, 
have regarded homosexuality as abnor- 
mal. Because of the lack of a place tha 
will accept them as they are, parole is 
often delayed or denied for those in 
prison who are not heterosexual. 

The alcoholism and drugaddiction 
programs consist of 12 to 18 months of 
living and working at Stonewall, and 
they reject. the medical approaches 
to homosexuality, addiction or crime. 
They present acceptance of one’s homo- 
sexuality not only as normal and 
healthy but also as restorative and the 
peutic, the key to 
tion. The approach 
therapy. with empha 
social situation, changing society's atti- 
tudes and gaining pol effectiveness, 

There is also a 00-day re-entry pro- 
gram for these coming out of prison 
and for the graduates of the treatment 
programs. This involves job placement 
and training, personal counseling and 
-consciousness raising. Stonewall seci 
funds from organizations and individuals 
for both projects. 

We are breaking ground by bringi 
what we know about human sexuality to 
the fore in the field of rehabilitation, 
Society makes a practice of taking sex 
vay from those in trouble, be they pris- 
oners, retarded children or mental pa- 
tients, But sex is not disruptive; it is а 
highly socializing factor for all. Gay 
males are becoming more prominent in 


that of rad 
on changing one’s 


the area of prison reform, because 
prison is where we suffer the greatest 
oppression. 


William Н. DuBay, Tr 

Stonewall 

Seattle, Washington 

DuBay is a former Catholic priest 
who, in 1964, asked Pope Paul VI to 


Director 


oust Los Angeles’ conservative Cardinal 
McIntyre and who, in 1966, wrote “The 
Human Church” (published without the 
usual ecclesiaslical permission), which 
advocated, among other things, a labor 
union for priests. 


CHANGING HOMOSEXUALITY 
I agree almost entirely with your com- 
ments on my last letter (The Playboy 
orum, September) and particularly 
with your support of “the right of re- 
searchers to investigate the causes of 
homosexuality and le means for 
" Indi involved i 

movement have 
at my research into the 
etiology of homosexuality and haye sai 


ree, however, with your state- 
ment, “If your research contention is 
correct, it would mean that there 
certain people whose fixed homosexuality 
1 be altered by existing methods.” It 
my belief that through electrocoagula- 
tion of the female-mating center of ће 
sex-behavior center in the hypothalamus, 
homosexuality can be altered and even 
made to disappear. Also. aversion therapy 
coupled with desensitization can alter 
behavior, though it may not affect the 
underlying drive. But, whichever method 
is used. it is doubtful that the hetero- 
se: encounters that may follow will 
involve the same intensity of arousa 


Only when  homosexu. 
problems that disable the 
his lile pursuits should clectrocoagu- 
lation be used, and only when the ind 
dual has а female love object clearly 
in mind should aversi 

pled with desensit 
1 cases, the client and not the thera- 
pix should make the decision about 
a change in sexual thrust, and then 
only after careful consideration of the 
alternatives. 


used. In 


urphy, Ph.D. 
California 


THE KEATING PAPERS 

The Playboy Forum has published a 
number of comments on the procensor- 
ship form letter sent out by Charles H. 
Keating, Jr, of Citizens for Decent 
Literature. I wonder if everyone found 
the letter as insulting to his intelligence 
as I did, with its first sentence, "The 
other day a friend of mine sent me a 
check and asked that I use part of his 
contribution to write to you about a 
problem in Honolulu.” My name ap- 
pears three times in the body of the 
lener and the name of my city or state 
appears 11 times, finally in the state 
ment, “When I write to more people in 
Honolulu with your contribution. . . 7 

One person who wrote to the Forum 
reported answering the letter. I did, too. 
1 also used the cards provided to send to 


the governor and the attorney general 
of Hawaii, but rephrascd them to ex- 
1 
think every person who receives one of 
the Keating letters and who values his 
liberties should reply to it, express 
his anger in clear and decisive terms. 

Fred R. Methered 

Honolulu, Haw 


Alter receiving the letter from Charles 
H. Keating, Jr, urging me to donate 
money to his organization and to cn- 
courage officials to pursue a war on 
pornogtaphy, I wrote to both the gover 
nor and the attorney general of Virginia 
as follows: 


І urge you to refrain from using 
your personal or official prestige to 
support Keati 

Keating scems to feel there is some 
evil in what he calls pornography. If 
there were some intrinsic evil in sex 
itsel or the human body, this might 
make sense. Since there is not, I sce 
nothing wrong in depicting sex 
graphically or through any other 
medium. 


Lester A. Lawrence HT 
Falls Church. Virginia 


SOONER CENSORS 

The prohibition of the nude scene 
in Hair mentioned in the September 
Playboy Forum was not the only act of 
censorship to take place in Oklahoma in 
the past year. L as president of the 
University of Oklahoma Cinema Society, 
was forced to cancel a showing of the 
best of the First Annual New York 
Erotic Film Festival because it supposed 
Jy violated Oklahoma state la 

Although similar movies have been 
shown on the campus before, this was 
the first one that was banned. I was told 
by university officials that the films must 
be screened by a faculty advisor first and 
if any violation of law were apparent to 
him, the films were not to be shown. Be- 
cause the movies portrayed sexual inter 
course, ] was subsequently forbidden to 
exhibit them. Now all films to be shown 
on campus will have to be prescreened, 
if there is reason to believe they break 
the law. 


Larry Ta 
Memphi 


BASTION OF DECENCY 

A letter from William R. Wall in the 
July Playboy Forum makes light of the 
claim that the Deep South is the "last 
bastion of decency and order.” Wall 
mentions the assassinations of Medgar 
Evers and Dr. Martin Luther King as 
examples of Southern lawlessness, but it 
is hardly fair to judge a section of the 
country by two murders. As for Selma, 
Little Rock and the other cities Wall 
referred 10, he should realize that these 


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cities were undergoing the trauma of a 
complete reversal of their ways of life. 
At such times, the best of us are liable 
to resort to violence. 

Southerners have not defied the Con- 
stitution, as Wall claims, but only certain 
interpretations of this great document. I 
believe that this country will be brought 


to its dow 1 by liberal distortions 
of the Constitution and the Bill of 
Rights. 


People such as Wall should not judge, 
lest they be liable to judgment them- 
selves, and they should not condemn 
others without fair apprais 

Marvin С. Pound, Jr. 
Sparta, Georgia 


DO AS WE SAY, NOT AS WE DO 

Аз а parent of preschool children 
who, in a couple of years, may face 
g bused halfway across the city to 
attend an understaffed, poorly funded, 
ill-equipped school in a black neighbor- 


be 


hood. I want to say that I think the 
liberals who are responsible for this ab- 
surdity are two-faced bastards. I'm not 


against integration; I'd be glad to have 
poor kids who are black or any other 
color come and attend school with my 
kids, and Fd hope it would lead to in- 
creased. understanding for all of them. 
But I'll be damned if ГИ pay the kind 
of taxes I do, to a community I moved 
to largely because of the quality of the 
schools, so that my kids can be bused 
to a slum in which they'll spei 
time just learning to survive. 


ned my kids to go to a crummy 
school. I never would have moved to a 
high-tax. neighborhood. 


A while ago. newspaper columnist 
bed how many of the 
Washington liberals who seem so eager 
to bus kids all over creation to satisly 
their notions of equality of opportunity 
manage 10 assure that their own kids 
are a little more equal—by sending 
them off to private schools. He included. 
Ed Muskie, George McGovern, Ted 
Kennedy, Eugene McCarthy, Birch 
h. Nicholas von Hoffman and, most 
interestingly. Carl Rowan, a black col- 
umnist, among the liberal hypocrites. 
Von Hoffman made the interesting com- 
ment that “nobody wants to make their 
children pay for their own social philos- 
ophy.” 1 say that if a man isn’t willing 
to do that, then he'd better change 
social philosophy. 

George Anderson 
Minneapolis, Minnesota 


AMNESTY 

Jt is my belief that granting amnesty 
to the draft dodgers holed up паба 
1 elsewhere would constitute ап аб 
front to all those men who have ever 
worn a uniform in any of the nation's 
Armed Fore 

As a man whose en 
to a close, I recall vi 


drawing 
ing faced 


with the prospect of trading a good job 
close to home for a stretch of low-paying 
forced labor, far from fantily and friends, 
With death as a possible consequence. 1 
searched for alternatives, but copping 
out was not one of th I had decided 
far in advance of my c 
response could not be a m 
ing in war rather than 
knows, total dep 
responsibility and a sense of duty to ıl 
nation on whose soil I make my home 
and on whose strength depends our way 
of life. 

‘The alternative to the draft that 1 
chose was enlistment in the Navy. which 
cost two additional years of my life. 
Im certainly no hero, I'm just one of 
the millions of guys who have seen their 
responsibility and have lived up to it. 

For my money, let the anti 
preachers and drait dodgers stay where 
they are. This country doesn't need the 
lack of courage they showed a couple of 
years ago. 

Rm 
N 


peace—God 
ty but of 


2 Michael J. Lanspery. U.S. N. 


burgh, New York 


In the September Playboy Forum, Joe 
Mattys rejects the proposal that draft 
exaders who Шей the country be given 
amnesty and remark: 
doubt that those men were substant 
motivated by reli 
science to avoid military serv 


I notice this question of motiv 
tes 


nly comes up in deb bou 
nesty. In my opinion, (haus preachy 
tripe. A man who flees the country be- 
cause he is afraid of getting wounded or 
killed has my respect just as much as 
опе who leaves because he [eels the war 
is a moral evi ds does any- 
om ing that an action per- 
formed out of sell-interest is inferior to 
one done in a spirit of altruism or 
adherence to principle? 1 think anyone 
who has the intelligence 10 see through 
Government lies and recognize that the 
Vietnam war is vicious and unnecessary 
and who has the courage to stay out of 
it deserves a hero's welcome- -should he 
choose to honor this wretched nation by 
wishing to return. 


have for sa 


William Harvey 
Detroit, Michigan 


the 
is st 


Joc Mattys’ letter condemning 
"Americans who fled the draft” 
tling. How a person can hold onto beliefs 
that adherence to the letter of the law is 
honorable and that draft evaders are 
traitors to America, in the face of 
phony Gulf of Tonkin incident, 
Pentagon papers, the slaughter of inno- 
cent people at My 
and continuous bon 
with which we are not even officially at 
war, escapes me completely. 

у 10 point to the collins 
and tombstones of those who, whether 


the 


out of fear, patriotism or indifference, 
ied serving their country's foreign pe 
cy and then say that because these men 
died. thos: who chose not to join in the 
killing must be guilty of some crime 
Apparently. the golden rule is easily bro- 
ken, but the military code must be fol- 
lowed to the letter. 

Mattys might want to think about the 
legal war evaders. Some men were fortu- 
nate enough to know someone in the 

ight place. or they were smart enough 
to foresee the escalation of the war and 
enlist in the National Guard. For a few, 
this was a legal window. For many who 
might later have wanted to take advan- 
tage of it, the only window remaining 
was to fice the country 

If one looks at the past eight years, at 
how and why we beca volved in 
this undeclared war, then the only con- 
clusion one can reasonably draw is that 
we made an error. Why should we pe- 
nalize people who saw the error and 
refused to go along with it? 

Robert G. Dewsnap 
Belchertown, Massachusetts 


As а political refugee in Canada, I am. 
sympathetic with Americans who advo- 
cate amnesty for exiles who left their 
country because of the draft. However, 
for me and others like me, the United 
States has become, for all practical pur- 
poses, a foreign country. АШ my friends 
are here in Canada, and the only difter- 
ke for 
that it would allow me to see my р 
ents more frequently. The major impact 
of amnesty would be on those draft 
resisters now imprisoned in the United 
States. Justice cries for their release. 
David J. Brown 
Edmonton. Alberta 


nce amnesty would 


There is a great debate in this coun- 
try over whether we should forgive those 
whose feelings about Viernam led chem 
to reprehensible acts or whether we 
should prosecute them. I am for amnesty. 
We will never have peace unless we 
relinquish the urge to settle old scores. 
1 believe we should show ourselves to be 
generous and extend clemency not only 
to the men who did the actual killing 
in Vietnam but even to the military and 
Government officials who started the 
whole mess. 


James Edwards 


Denver, Colorado 


WHY WE ARE IN VIETNAM 

The Playboy Forum has published 
many letters from people who are vehe- 
ment in their denunciation of the V 
nam war. I would like to reply. The 
U.S. entered Vietnam not because it 
had anything to gain thereby but be- 
cause the freedom and sovereignty of 
the South Vietnamese people were be 
ing threatened by insurgents within 


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PLAYBOY 


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short filter cigarettes. 

Now everybody will be wearing 
hot pants and smoking short-short 
filter cigarettes ..almost everybody. 


Camel Filters. 
They're not for everybody. 


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20 mg. “tar; 14 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report AUG. 72. 


their borders. ultimately controlled by 
the Communist government of North 
Vietnam. American troops came first 


only as advisors, then their strength was 
increased as the other side escalated: it 
«Пон 10 destroy the South Vietnamese 
government. 

The U.S. has given money and equip- 
ment to South Vietnam to strengthen its 
forces, and has tained. and advised the 
\imy of the Republic of South Vie n 
in the maintenance and use of equip- 
ment so that the ARVN could take 
er the job of dest hostile forces. 
S. soldiers in V m have fought 
primarily to secure their bases and their 
personal safety and to remove enemy 
lorces from their arca of operati 

We are in Vietnam to give the South 
Viemamese a chance for freedom. and 
democracy, The value of freedom is not 
(heap; it cannot. be measured. either in 
or in lives, The rewards make up 
e sullering and the deaths, 

Sp 4 Michael W- Hedges 
APO San Francisco, California 


ns. 


mone 
lor tb 


CANADIAN MILITARY LIFE 

The Playboy Forum has published 
many letters from U.S. Servicemen that 
discuss Vietnam, drugs in the Service, 
injustice and the gencral misery 
y life. Such conditions are not 
to the U.S. military but are 
n armed 


реси: 
also prevalent im Ше Canadi 
forces, 


ms are not 


great or as 


h is only about 85.000; 
nevertheless, they are still there. 1 would 
venune to gues that 20 percent of the 
military men use one kind of drug or an- 

Military justice is a joke, and the 
of grievances to higher authority 
vy organizations is frowned 
times punished. Passing the 
favorite game, and requests for 
ation are usually met with blank 
«з or such lengthy procrastination 
опе forgets the question. The peace 
symbol has come under attack from 
our superiors; one commanding ollicer has 
stated, "Yon are forbidden to dis] 
these things because they are detrimental 
ıo morale, and besides you are not a 
bunch of goddamn hippies but trained 
soldiers, and your responsibility is to kill 
command, not to wage peace.” 

We are fortunate that Canada has no 
draft. Although the enlistment period 
here is for five years, one may be ге 
leased for a valid reason before his 
time is up. I pray. now that I am again 
а civilian, that we in Canada will never 
suller as the youth of America has. 
Geolliey. Hahn 
Toronto, Ontario 


PRISON CONDITIONS 

Eric A. DeRycke's letter i 
guw Playboy Forum states that 
prison adminis 


but. unfortunately, lithe known efforts to 
remedy" the deplorable conditions of 
inmate life. My observation is that most 
of the progress in the Federal prison sys- 
tem has been Dror 

ample. 


wht about by court 


blished rhe right of new 
paper reporters to visit institutions and to 
correspond with inmates. Similarly, the 


Black Muslims had to fight the Bureau 
of Prisons for ye in their right 
to ous worship. The Bureau of 
Prisons continues to suppress the convict- 


founded Church of the New Song, num- 
bern some 600 members at Atlanta 
and Leavenworth penitentiaries. 


Unlike DeRycke. Гуе found that pris 
on officials fight tooth and nail again: 
any ellort by prisoners to get themselves 
together spiritually or socially 

Joseph Harry Brown 
Leavenworth, Kansas 


FOR TOURISTS’ EYES ONLY 

Last August, Allen Donichon, U 
Attorney ol Des Moines, lowa, took 
tour of Federal prisons—including those 
in El Reno. Oklahoma; Englewood, Colo- 
rado; and Leavenworth, Kansas. Accord- 
ing 10 a subsequent news story, "He said 
the tour demonstrated to him that con 
finement is better for some inmates th 
the environment in which they would live 
in society.” During one week here in 
Leavenworth, there were two inmate 
deaths though accident, two attempted 
dd dozens of inmates confined 


escapes 


for minor rule violations, I challenge 
any free community of ?000 people to 
match that much human misery. 


aid prioners 

ше cells 
lom to 
rcarcation 


The story added, "He 
at Leavenworth can have pr 
with their own keys and f 
roam the cell blocks and 
yards if they stay out of trouble That 
statement is ridiculous. Leavenworth is a 
ахінае ud at no time 
are prisoners allowed to сапу keys. 
Chain tink wire engulfs entire cell blocks 
and encirdes the recreation yards, which 
are unlocked by a guard lor five minutes 
cach hour to permit inmates to enter 
nd exit 
"There have bi 
ly as long as the 
but public officials should know better 
than to take at ace value what they are 
shown by the prison adn 

Robert L. Swanson 
Leavenworth, Kansas 


ity prison 


vir 
prisons, 


n prison tou 
have bee 


nistrators. 


MENTAL DETENTION 

‹ a apparently has а neat Tittle 
law that could get you locked up in- 
communicado for three days without 
any charge being filed ast you and 
without you having any right to post 
bail, see an attorney, be tried or make a 
phone call, In a newspaper article, Pat 
Michaels of Capitol News Service in 
S mento described a hour mental- 


which was or 
mens for author 
a person bent on 

me 


detention law, 
designed 10 provide 
ties to “cool down 
seldeswruction or homicide, or хопи 
nd а danger to those 


who was enraged 
around him. Now, however, th 
being used by D. As to frighten divorced 


men into me support pir 
by social workers to browbeat reluc 
lant spouses into accompan 


mates to family therapy sessions 
some psychiatrists to scare. patients into 
paving their bills to mention a few 
examples. 

Michaels! article noted that it’s hard 
10 estimate the extent to which the law 
is thus being abused. since, unlike police 
ests, locking someone up in а mental 
1d doesn't become part of the public 
record, Nevertheless, the number of ex 
amples given in the article as well 
existence of such a law at all are 
nous portents. One would think that the 

efesion would protest 
di 


w 


psychiatric p 
дийп this ki 


nd of abr 


gation ol i 


dual civil rights. The fact that some 
psychiatrists actually take advantage ol 
this mockery of due process makes one 


concerned 
nd see that 
1 of oppres 


wonder if those who are 
about psychiatric injustice 
profession as becoming a t 
sion are necessarily paranoid. 
"Tom Wilson 
Los Angeles, California 


CREEPING CONFORMITY 

When new LD. pictures had to be 
taken of employees of the Florida Parole 
ad Probation Commission, a memo on 
the subject was slapped on my desk. 
This sentence disgusted me: 


As a prelude to this, it has been 
noticed that a few of the male per- 
sonnel have taken advantage of the 
recent upheaval to let their hair 
grow to what is considered extreme 
length. 


‘The memo gocs on to command us to 
get haircuts before having our pictures 
taken. Note the typically bureaucratic 
use of the passive voice—long hair "has 
been noticed” and considered ex- 
treme.” By whom? 

Complaints about young men bi 
forced to cut their hair dont set much 
apathy, I've noticed —possibly because 
it's so casy to get a haircut But there is 
1 important principle involved, as that 
astme observer of American demoa 
Alexis de Tocqueville pointed out: 


own part, 1 should be inclined to 
think freedom les necessuy in 
great things than in little ones, if it 
were possible to be secure of the 
one without possessing the other 


As a mater of fact, I [ecl 1 lack 
freedom not only in the small matter of 


97 


PLAYBOY 


98 


hair length but also in the larger one of 
selbexpres: 


WAR ON UNDESIRABLES 

An aride in the Anaheim-Fullerton 
Independent relais several ways in 
which local officials and other defenders 
з синие 


gs of what the paper cuphemist 
Is unde: 
pools arc being haunted by 
s. hippies, homosexuals and mari 
juana smokers, Orange County 1 
work crews clearing away the brush so 
that the spa can be seen from the high- 
way. The story adds: 


Sherif's deputies said they have 
been making sporadic raids on the 
springs for 10 years, arrestin: 
passers. Residents of the arca. com- 
plained of heavy traffic, screams in 
the night and other 
because of hippi 
ties said. 

Ranch cowboys have 
rid the pools of hippies. sometimes 
runni them down on horseback 
and cutting their һай. or dropping 
broken glass in the pools so the bath- 


disturbances 
ters, depu- 


Iso tried to 


ers would cut their feet, deputies 
said, 


in pigpens, 


Allied К. Day 


An article in The Denver Post reports 
that the government. of Singapore has 
p signs in all its offices reading, 
мати LONG NAIR WILL BE AT 
TENDED 10 LAT. Since last year, male 
tourists with long hair have been turned 
away from Singapore. The article cc 
cludes, “Authorities say wearing long 
hair, a fad imported from Western coun 
tries, is liable to ‘pollute’ Singapore's 
social environment.” 
Is not prejudice of il 


as racism? 


kind as vi 


is 


Peter Allen Nowell 

Lakewood, Colorado 

If only such bigotry never cropped 
up any closer to home than Singapore, 


1984 MINUS 12 

I attend college on the West Coast 
L have become ingly annoyed 
nd frightened by police 
methods. One evening last 
example, my girl and I were on a beach 
when it was cleared by police in helicop- 
ters that were equipped with huge search- 
lights. A friend. claimed that this was 
only a forerunner of things to come and 


inae 


that observation techniques used in Viet 
nam were being adapted for Stateside 
purposes. A quick tip to the library 
proved that he was indeed. correa. 


Among examples of Vietnam war tech- 
nology being adapted for civilian pu 


poss is the border patrols we of 
unmanned, remote-controtled Air Force 
drones that pick up signals from sensors 
buried along the border to relay to an 
infiluationsurveifance cemer. The sen- 
sors themselves are adaptations of those 
used to indicie troop. movements alo 
the Ho Chi Minh Tr 


we around prisons and governmental 
and industrial centers. The foliage pene 
bation used in Vietnam has been 


modernized so that it 
brick and cinderblock walls, while n 


ln 
jon devices, which amplify light levels 
so that the user сап sec in the dark, 
apparently already in use by many pol 
departments en regular night patrols. 
There are also laser fingerprint analyz- 
crs, voiceprim equipment and low- 
level television cameras, which can 
be installed on poles high 
streets for nighttime inspection of in- 
tersections—and probably could be used 
for daytime surveillance of protesters in 
the sırecis. To avoid all of this (or 
most all of it), my girl and 1 could stay 
home all the time and watch the tube— 
but how long will it be before the tube 
is equipped so that it can watch us? 

George Ford 

Los Angeles, California 


FREE-LANCE NARC 
Alter the police department of Puch- 
lo. Colorado, arrested 13 young people in 
conneciion with a drug probe, the local 
newspaper, The Puchlo Chieftain, ran 
story heal ТРКЕ АХС 
їйє DRUG PROBLEM IN PUEBLO.” The story 
described a man Irom New Jersey who 
was in town drawing a regular police- 
man's salary to tun in young people 
involved in the drug scene. He claims he 
does this sort of work for the satisfaction 
it gives him: “That's all 1 need, man. is 
to sce those pushers put 
faction enough for me.” The agent de- 
scribes his modus operandi as follows: 


NARG SEES. 


way. ICs s 


I buy them a drink, make friendly 
small talk. Eventually the conversa- 
tion moves around to dope and I 
Where can I buy some drugs?” 
That's how it all begins, I don't feel 
bad about anything I do. They de- 
serve everything they get. 


I happen to be a friend of at N 
half the people who were апе 
and they're guilty of nothing more than 
smoking some grass to have а good time. 
Yet now, because of this guy's activities, 
they may go to prison, Our stupid drug 
laws are producing a society in which 
young people must be suspicious of every- 


one, wondering whether each new friend 
might be a secret policeman 
Randall A. Martella 
Pueblo, Colorado 


GARBAGE MOUTHS 

Columnist. Abigail Van Buren was s 
impressed with a judges lecture to 
17-vearold boy who had pleaded guilty to 
posession of hallucinogenic drugs that 
she published the whole thing in "Dear 
Abby." her newspaper column. The boy 


was sentenced. 10 a year in the county 
stockade and four years’ probation 

1 feel that drug abuse сап harm 
people physically and mentally: how 


ever, I find the judge's tirade far По 
impressive. It sounds like an exercise in 
name-calling of the sort that cuts. oll 
communication between the i 
Here are so 


e E 
, we want 
u have polluted our water 
and our air, you have polluted this 
and that’ and all the rest of the 
garbage that comes out of your 
mouths, . . . 

IE you are sick. a doctor will treat 
you and he won't be on drugs. . . . 

"Your astronauts are not on drugs, 
and your President is not, and your 
legishutors are not. . . . 
her are those who build the 
bathrooms that vou stink up with 
your lousy. rorten drug: 

Let's sce what kind of world you 
leave 10 your chilien before you 
Ik about the world that we left to 
ours." 


our 


€ your 


Td like to look in the medicine cabi- 
nets amd liquor cabinets of our pro- 
fessional people, officials and heroes 
throughout the country. Fm sure Fd find 
interesting collections of pills 
all perfectly legal, of course. We brit 
up our children in a drug and boos 
oriented society. damn them when they 


nd booze. 


follow our example and damn the 
again for criticizing u 
Paula Hassler 
Phoenix, Arizona. 


THE BOOZE PROBLEM 

For the past several. years, drug prob- 
Jems in the Armed Forces have received 
a great deal of publicity, and this has 
been used as ion by those who 
want to keep punitive drug laws on the 
books Drug abuse is our 
problem, they wail, and their answer 10 
it is stricter enforcement and tougher 
penal 

An item in Time about the rehabili 
tion of alcoholics in the Navy puts this 
clamor imo perspective. It points out: 


Aber one 


The Pentagon estimates that there 
are between 50,000 and 115,000 


Matrix, schmatrix. 


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Its 4 speakers don't just sur- 
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solid-state IF filter for highly 
increased sensitivity and se- 
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tuning dial; tape monitor 
switch 

But, really, there’s no way 
to get across to you what'll 
come across to you the mo- 
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PLAYBOY 


100 


the 2.400.000 men 
па alcoholism 
tor in the discharge of several 
ed men each year. Alcohol- 
ism, in fact. is a fay bigger problem 
than heroin addiction and rhe 
other. newer forms of drug abuse 


Nevertheless. the Departme 
lense has published a di 
alcoholism is to be tre 
d and will not. 
Serviceman from ol 
s от a security clearance, Nc 


pron 
body has suggested closing down the bars 


the Service clubs or those near the 
posts, АШ of which is fine. but i 
are capable of this much enlight 
ment in d 
sd 
drugs—vhicl 
problem? 


FEROCIOUS PENALTIES 

н deeply impressed. by rravnov's 
ipn to bring some rationality to 
na laws, Fm shocked 10 dear 
there are 53 inmates in the Ohio 
State Reformatory in Mansfield. who arc 
serving 10 to 40 years for sale or posses- 
sion for sale of marijuana (The Playboy 
Forum, September). What an exumordi 
у waste of human lile. 
тайне for particular kinds of mis- 
эт must have so 
th; 


relation to the 
the offense does to the mdr 
unity. The penal- 
ed by many state laws for 
le and use of marijuana are out 
of all proportion to 
might do. 

As a former dircerer of the American 
Bar Association and America Medical 
Association Study сопіс Drugs. I 
believe that there should be а co 


vidual or to the com 


of a 1 laws re to 
а. Possession should not be a 
ıl offense, Prol " of sale 
might well be kept in the penal Jaw, 
since there is considerable opinion 
that mari harmful, even il it 
not addicting. Nevertheless, penalties 
for sale might welt be reduced to those 


for misd 
s provided by e 
ike no sense. 
Morris Ploscowe 
Attorney at Law 
New York, New York 


тогу. The lero- 


E 


AIDING POT-LAW VICTIMS 

Tam sure that thousands of your read- 
ers throughout this country felt impelled 
10 action alter reading the letters 
September Playboy Forum about 
cruel sentences 


n the 

the 
peted out for marijuana 
ollenses in states such as Ohio. The 
question is. how can this energy be used 
iS My elected ollicials 
ppeni 


to help the viet 
don't care whats I 


and those in Ohio don't care what an 
Oregon voter has to say. And, of course, 
President Nixon and his people are 
even less likely to listen. 
I want to help, and I know there are 
others who want to help. Tell us how. 
Mrs. Renee Malus 
Merlin. Oregon 
An expression of disapproval from out 
of state may have some small influence by 
serving notice on local officials that their 
actions are receiving national attention 
Meanwhile, you can be working for te- 
form of the marijuana laws in your own 
slate. Progress in one state sels the exam- 
ple for others, so that, in the loug тип, 
what happens in Oregon can concewably 
help people in Ohio. Finally, and most 
practically, you can support organizations 
that are working to change the laws. In 
your part of the country, there are Mari- 
Juana Education for Legalization in Ore- 
gon (MELO) and Basic Liberation of 
Smokers and Sympathizers of Marijuana 
(BLOSSOM) in Olympia, Washington. 
The National Organization for the Re 


form of Marijuana Laws (NOKML), 
1237 29nd Street. N. W., Washington, 


D. C. 20037, acts as a clearmghouse of 
information about such regional efforts 
throughout the country. 


IDEA FIGHTER 

As the use of marijuana becomes more 
prevale American society. the Presi- 
dent seems to become incrensingly deter 
mined to return us to the general chaos 
ol the Twenties and Prohibition. 

Nixon continues maze lib 
conservatives alike with directives герге 
sentative of no one's best interests. Ас 
cording to Washington columnist. Jack 
Anderson, the President has ignored the 
recommendations ol medical authorities 
on his own National Com 
Marijuana and Drug Abuse 
ordered the preparation of a Gongres- 
sional lobbying campaign to get passage 
of legal measures assuring continued 
prosecution lor marijuana use. He has 
put the antidrug project into the hands 
of John Ingersoll, Director of the Bureau 
of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs. In- 
ysoll represents the Administration att 
s Big Brother worst: according to An- 
derson. he has stared publicly that he 
feels it is his duty "not only to protect 
the public in the streets Irom vicious 
criminals but to protect the public from 


harmful ide 

Ingersoll didn't ekiborate on who 
would decide what ideas are harmful, but 
I'm sure there are any number of Cranks 


around who would be delighted 10 un- 
dertake the task. 
Wendell L Allegood 
Macon, Georgia 


BRAIN DAMAGE 

In the August Playboy Forum, a 
n The Lan- 
1 


reader described an article 
cel. a British medical journal, conca 


ing Cannabis smoking aud brain dam 
age. specifically. cerebral atrophy or 
death of brain tissue. leading to shrink 
mc of brain mass. PLAYBOY response 
was glib superficial, producing 
«Шест of False. reassurance. 

The psychoactive ingredient in mar 
THC. does cause brain damag 
since it temporarily impairs brain func 
tioning. In mild doses, this is transient 
and ol no known consequence, Similar 
impaired brain functioning occurs with 
use of alcohol, The authors of The 
Lancet article reasoned that it low doses 
f marijuana can produce mild. reversible 
ight not higher doses lead to 
permanent damage? Such is the case 
with aspirin. alcohol and tobacco. 

The study published in The Lancet 
у be criticized on the grounds that 
multipledrug use was a factor in some 
cases and that other causes of cerebral 
atrophy were pre 
ideal study of € 
done because of medical ethics. Such 
мийу would involye daily administration 
of high doses of THC Tor a long time 
to normal subjects who had been thor- 
oughly evaluated initially, with subse 
quent reevaluation cach y looking 
for signs of brain damage. Neverthe 
les. the British study is suggestive and 
should alert people 1 the possibility of 


in other cases. The 
abis use cant be 


c how they should live. once th 
h the age of rational judgment. I 
don't mind if people smoke pot, as long 
as they know the possible side effects 
and end results. (1 feel the same way 
about alcohol and cigarettes.) And if ten 
years from now people get imo trouble 
despite my warnings, 1 will try to help 
them if 1 can. 
William E. Feeman, Jr. M. D 
(Address withheld by request) 
We don't think our answer was falsely 
reassuring. We pointed out that neither 
Dr. Joel Fort, who provided “The 
Playboy Forum” with an analysis of the 
article in The Lancet. "nor any other 
serious researcher claims thal any drug 
marijuana included, is totally harmless." 
But, in the context of the current. de 
bate over the legal status of marijuana, 
we think the most important fact is that 
the study yeported in The Lancet did not 
prove anythin; 


“The Playboy Forum" offers. the 
opportunity Jor an extended dialog be 
Juven. readers and editors of this pub 
lication on subjects and issues related to 
“The Playboy Philosophy.” Address all 
correspondence to The Playboy Forum, 
Playboy Building. 919 North Michi 
gan Avenue, Chicago, Hlinois 6011. 


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плот тмн: YEVGENY YEVTUSHENKO 


a candid conversation with the flamboyant doyen of russian poetry 


geny Yevtushenko may be the 
world's best-known poet; surely he is the 
world's best-known Russian poet, and 
the most widely traveled. Despite fre- 
quent reports of his estiangement from 
the Soviet government, he darts in and 
әш of Russia with the apparent free- 
dom of an unofficial ambassador pleni- 
potentiary. In a nation where political 
recognition is thought to hinge on Com- 
munis Party membership, he has risen 
lo national prominence as a nonmem- 
ber. In a society where atheism is the 
igion, he willingly acknowl 
sey his admiration for Christianity— 
^ni to the extent of wearing a gold cross 
around his wech. In a nation whose 
people are popularly viewed as drab and 
puritanical, he is fashionable, flamboy 
ant and a self-styled Casanova. 
Yeotushenko's international siaiuve is 
such that the authorities simply couldn't 
keep him quiet even if they wanted 
to—which most likely they don’t, since 
he is a staunch supporter of Soviet. so- 
сат and а good-will ambassador par 
excellence, as evidenced not only by his 
media appearances but also by his re- 
vent private conversations with Presi 
dent Nixon and various members of the 
Kennedy family. Though he is outspo- 
ken in his criticism of what he sees as 
defects in his own society as well as in 
others, his criticism always takes the 
form of amiable advice from an inter- 
ested friend. But his criticism of Soviet 


established те 


“1 don't really enjoy the physical process 
of sitting down and makin 
paper. Here I am in a room like a sorry 
lille clerk, while some wonderful woman 
might be passing on a nearby street” 


scratches on 


society often makes headlines, usually 
written by Western journalists who 
don't understand that his ave 
based on an unquestionable patriotism 
and an almost mystical respect for the 
rich and divergent cultural heritage of 
his native land. 

Yevtushenko's vise to stardom in the 
Soviet Union was meteoric. He was born 
on July 18, 1932, to a peasant family on 
a rural outpost in Siberia, the settin 
one of his best-known poems, “Zima 
Junction.” Among his earliest memories 
was the abrupt disappearance of both of 
his grandfathers, who wete imprisoned 
in concentration camps during the Stalin 
did not His parents 
were divorced during his childhood, and 
because of the terrible disruptions of а 
lime Russia, he found himself shunted 
between Siberia and Moscow, often in the 
company of his mother, a parttime caba- 
rel singer who was soon lo lose her voice. 

During this period, Yevtushenko was 
exposed lo many aspects of the Russian 
demimonde, language and ife 
sles he would portray so faithfully in 
his es. He attended the equivalent of 
high school but 
distinguished himself. possibly because 
his carly interest in poetry was over- 
shadowed by his athletic prowess. Several 
couches felt that he had the potential oj 
a world-class soccer. goalie. Yevtushenko 
neatly resolved this dilemma at 15. On 


words 


Jor 


era and sur 


ar- 


whose 


near Moscow, newer 


“I'm going lo exchange poetry for prove 
J is time for me to test my strength in 
another field. Think of me ах ап old foot 
ball player with vast experience. AU Pm 
doing now is changing stadiums.” 


the afternoon before a long-awaited 
professional soccer tryout. he learned 
that he had sold his fast. росто a 
magazine called Soviet Sport. He cele 
brated this portentous event in a man. 
ner thal was to become a trademark: by 
consuming monstrous quantities of wine. 
Next da ed at the tryont, 
he wasn't even hung over; he was still 
drunk. Russia may have lost a worldcup 
goalie, but she gained a major poet. 
Yevtushenky chronicled all this in an 
audacious sclj-appraisal titled “A Preco- 
cious Autobiography” (an appropriate 
litle, since the book appeared in 1965, 
when the author just 30). The 
work crealed а sensation in Ihe West— 
and а scandal in the Soviet Union. Off 
cial retribution was swift. and Уен. 
shenko dropped from sight Jor a few 
months, only to emerge delivering an 
official apology. Charactevistically, he ve. 
canted not a single word of his book, 
but he admitted bad judgment in allow. 
ing Ihe work to be published abvoad 
before its appearance in Russia—a cn- 
rious mea culpa that he maintains to 
this day. International acclaim soon Jol 
lowed. Having patched his fences at 
home, he was free to travel the world 
ver, and did so with gusto. His poctic 
output, always enormous, actually in. 
creased. His most recent volume, “White 
Snows Are Falling,” was а 100000- 
copy sellout in Ihe Soviel. Union, and 
his latest American translation, "Stolen 


when he ayy 


was 


“Why ave same people so concerned about 
freedom in Rusia? 1 consider myself a 
free man, and so do my countrymen 
The need for freedom is natural, but 
don't go around shouting, “ar fre 


105 


Apples,” sold in excess of 15.000 copies 
during the first six months of 1972—a 
nificant figure for a work of serious 
verse, And yet, at the very height of his 
success, he began declaring his intention 
to stop writing poetry 

To gain an insight into the man, 
PLAYBOY dispatched Senior Editor Mi 
chael Laurence, an unpublished poet bet 
ter known Jor his writing on the subject 
of personal investment. Laurence reports: 

“I have known Yeotushenko through 
the mails since 1963. vraysov has from 
time to time published his poetry, and 
in the early years I acted as intermedi 
ary. We first met on his visit to America 
in 1968, at a poetry reading at the 
University of Chicago. That night we 
had a vowing good time drinking cham- 
pagne at the Playboy Club in the com- 
pany of a wild poct groupic named 
Lubya, a native speaker of Russian whom 
Yeilushenko had picked up at his read. 
ing. I wasn't surprised, however, when 
he subsequently called to decline being 
interviewed for PLAYBOY, on Ihe grounds 
that it might not sit well with the folks 
back home. (PLAYBOY was—and still is— 
banned in the U.S. S. It.) 

“When word came, in Inte 1971, that 
Yevtushenko was vetuming to America, 
it was obviously lime to ty again. I was 
then living in Cornish. New Hampshire. 
Yevtushenko knows this town well, since 
it is the year-round home of J. D. Salin- 
ger, an author who is honized in Russia. 
"The Catcher in the Rye is ane af Ihe 
most popular American novels cver 
translated into Rusian. Through his 
friend and interpreter, Dr. Albert Todd 
of Queens College, Yevtushenko urged 
me to set up a meeting between him 
and Nalmger. 

“I had been a neighbor of Salinge's 
for three years but had never met him. 
Our acquaintance consisted о] maybe 
ten seconds of eye contact, spread over 
36 months, when he would drive past 
while 1 was retrieving my Wall Street 
Journal from the mailbox. Yeorushenko's 
man hadn't said so, bul there was the 
strong suggestion that Yeugeny might be 


PLAYBOY 


much more willing to sit for an interview 
if, indeed, 1 could uriange a meeting be- 
tween him and his American literary idol. 
“Thrilled with the prospect of mid- 
wifing a literary event, I decided to cast 
off neighborly indifference and pay Sal- 
inger a visit. 1 drove up to his house, 
but he wasn't home, so I left a note 
asking him to call. He telephoned later 
in the day. Politely, I Wied to ex plain 
my request. bul 1 had hardly utlered Ihe 
word Yevtushenko when Salinger inter 
rupted. “Wail,” he said. ‘Am 1 covvect? 
Do you presume to call me on a literary 
matter? T (ied to explain, but the 
conversation ended when Salinger inier- 
rupted again to declare, "This is precisely 
the sort of thing Гос been trying to avoid 

106 for 15 years.” Click. 


‘evtushenka apparently felt sorry for 
me after this bleak encounter on his 
behalf: After a few weeks deliberation, 
he consented to be interviewed anyway 
The first session look place in San Fran- 
cisco, where we recorded several hours of 
conversation while tooling around North 
Beach in the back of Lawrence Ferlin 
ghetti's microbus. A few months later, 
just before Yevtushenko's departure jor 
home, we completed the interview in 
New York, in the somewhat less frenctic 
surroundings of a suite in the Meurice 
Hotel, 


ushenko is a fascinating and de 
lighiful man. At a Greek restaurant near 
the West Side bus terminal, he spent ten 
minutes autographing а napkin jor a 
12year-old girl. Three bottles of retsina 
Inter, we were on aur way lo sec—o] all 
things—the film ‘Nicholas and Alexan- 
dm.” Yeotushenko's love of American 
movies is well known (he once wrote a 
poem about James Bond) and he wes 
pleased with this oue. ‘Very accurate,’ he 
concluded. 

“Much of the interview was conduct. 
ed in English, which he speaks quite 
well, But for difficult questions, he re- 
sponded in Russian, with Todd acting 
as Iranslator. Whatever the langnage, 
Yevtushenko speaks very deliberately, 
chainsmoking filler cigarettes, smiling 
or grimacing as he talks, frequently 
bringing his hand to his face in what 
appears to be an effort Lo wrest the right 
s fram his mouth. J never saw him 
dressed other than casually, usually in а 
cardigan, blue jeans and loafers, and 
always wearing Eskimo mementos—a 
carved walrusinsk bracelet and occasion- 
ally a mecklace—from an Alaskan trip. 
The first thing he wanted to know, 
when I met him in San Francisco, 
Ihe particulars of my non-gettogether 
with Salinger. I yecounted them ax I sel 
up the tape recorder, and (hat's where 
the interview began, 


was 


PLAYBOY: Why is J- D. Salinger such a 
populair writer in tlie Soviet Union? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Lingely because of The 
Catcher in the Вус. 11 
tremely айаш to. u 
written in teenage 
found a wonderful translator. in Rita 
Rait-Kovalévi, who had bee friend of 
Mayakovsky's. one of our greatest poets. 
She translated the book superbly into 
Russian teenage slang. Nothing quite like 
this had been before, the 
ellect was starting, 
PLAYBOY: Since the theme of the book 
so specifically Ame Yt you sur 
prised it ciuglu on in Russ 
YEVTUSHENKO: It is only 
The Catcher in the Rye that is Ameri 
The book describes the problems of 
y people starting their adult life 
vast world, and such problems 
ersal. 


book was ex- 


donc aud 


си 


the milieu of 


PLAYBOY: 
your 


translations of 
English been as 


Have the 
own works into 
successful? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Not really. English us 
lations convey the пи of my words 
but fail to evoke their music. This is truc 
for all Russian poetry. Russian is more 
melodious 
PLAYBOY: Does this make the 
language better suited to poetry? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Yes. A very great Russian 
росі of the I8th Century, Mikhail Lo 
monosov. observed that Russian has the 


Russian 


the music of паіла and the \ 
As one who is at least vaguely 
all five languages, 1 agree 


Also, because Russian is so very melodi 
i possib 


for 


offers frequent 
m 
PLAYBOY: Why is rhyme so important in 
Russian poetry? 


have poetry. I know that isn’t the case 
in the United States, but it is true 
Russia. In fact. one of the continuing 
problems of our poetry has been the 
supposed absence of new rhymes. For а 
while it was almost a cliché to say that 
all the rhymes had been used up. Maya 
kovsky mentioned. this in a poem 


Surely, a dozen as yet unused rhymes 
Survive, somewhere in Venezuela, 


But this vn Mayakovsky | 
self discovered new techniques for rlıym- 
and 


1 too have developed new 
nes. In my teens I went through a 
big Russian dictionary, word by word, 
and found something like 10,000 new 
rhymes. I recorded them in a notebook, 
but this was a futile labor: I subsequent 
ly lost the noreboi 
PLAYBOY: Critics have said that it's th 
fascin: with the technique of poctry 
that weakens your work, They also say 
you skip from subject to subject and 
1 style 10 style like а poetic dilettante 
YEVTUSHENKO: I have traveled much and 
lived many lives. I can write my verses 
in different dialects. speaking for many 
different people, because I have lived 
their lives. 1 am familiar. for example. 
with the dialect of thieves. which is 
almost a language in itself. In my boy 


lo 


hood. dining World War Two, I con 
sorted with thieves. I was a thicf lor a 
while. And D know the jargon of the 


urban proletariat—blue-collar. workers— 
because 1 was also a factory hand. 1 
know the dialect of sailors because I was 
a sailor. I love 1 all 
aud have а good ear for them—especially 
slang. Sling is real language. As you say 
1 have been eriticized. even attacked. on 
these accounts. My poetry may be 
strange cocktail of different styles 
different sl. but it spells life 
PLAYBOY: Do you [cel that your interna 
ve cut you ofl dr 


and 


success may 
these vital sources? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Absolutely not. You must 


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understand that in the Soviet Union, 
poets are not celebrated on talk shows or 
nterviewed in n vines like rr Av nov. 
In my country, а poet is not treated like 
a movie star. I'm just another person, one 
who happens to write verses. Let me tell 
you: I was born in Siberia, in the serde- 
ment of Zima. Zima describes the. place 
well; it means winter. I have many 
friends and relatives there—metal crafts- 
men, wuck drivers, railroad workers. I 
go back almost every year to sce them. 
For them, my fame does not exist. They 
love my роси; ly and 
criticize works they di They also 
defend m 
This is true mot just in Zima but 
wherever 1 go. Im a wandeı bit of a 
tramp. 1 travel constantly, Even 
1 become known as a poet, I 
a job as a common sailor on a seal- 
hunting schooner. And just three y 
ago, some friends and I bi liuk 
wooden boat powered by two motorcycle 
engines, and the four of us took a trip 
down Russia's longest river, the Le 
The trip lasted four months and covered 
4500 kilometers. It was very hard work. 
Everywhere we stopped, I talked to 
people and read yerses—to geologist: 
collective farmers, to fishermen. С 
ne I recited poetry while standing in 
hip boots on a huge pile of sturgeon. 
Wherever I go—to cities, to vill 
tiny settlements]. always find people 
who know and love my ростгу. These 
people talk to me about everything: 
their successes, their failures, their joys 
and their sorrows. I have never felt any 


PLAYBOY 


ше» LO 


barrier between them and myself, and 
they, in turn, feel I am опе of them. 
This is the key to my poetry. It js the 


sort of person that I am. 
PLAYBOY: What sort of poet. docs this 
make you? 
YEVTUSHENKO: To ипмусг, I will In 
tell you something about Russian poet 
ry. Alter our Revolution, there were 
four great Russian poets: Mayakovsky, 
Ракети. and Blok. Each had 
his own shortcomings and his own vir 
tues. Yesenin was intm 
with the countryside. He had lived the 
soul of rural Russia. But he dreaded 
the city. Mayakovsky knew nothing 
country life, but he loved the city. F 
was an urban poet. Like Walt Whitmi 
Mayakovsky could find beauty in sky- 
scrapers and bridges. But he could not 
perceive the beauty of the bist litle 
bei sways on the snowy brand of 
а solitary tree. This gift was denied hin. 
When Mayakovsky wrote about the 
countryside, the result was superficial. 
Unlike Mayakovsky, Pasternak was to- 
tally an intellectual, He also perceived 
nature very sensitively. But curiously 
enough, he saw it best from the suburbs, 
He was a man torn between city and 
108 country. Of the four, Blok wrote the best 


t to 


Yesenin 


of womi 
summed u perh 
significant that he had mixed fecti 
about the Revolution. One night he met 
Mayakovsky and the two stood out in 
the darkness. Around them flickered the 
lights from campfires of the Russian Red 
Guards. Blok looked at the campfires and 
said: “The fies of the Revolution. arc 
beautiful.” He was silent for a while, and 
then he added: "But they're burning 


Line the principles of these four poets 
in verses that speak the many nt 
voices ol the masses. Everybody in the 
Soviet Union reads my poetry. Many 
n lind their own reflected in my 
verses. But beyond this, 1 think there is 
a common thread that binds my poetry 
into an integrated whole, and this is my 
real response to those who chirge me 
1l my poetry, and 
ppearances, E try 


ves 


with inconsistency. In 
in each of my public 
10 encompass sadness, joy. satire, tender- 
ness—and cruelty toward cruelty. It 
pleases me to bring these strains togetli- 
cr. Our intellectuals today, our thinking 
dass, have the same origins 1 have. In a 
very real way, my lyrical hero represents 
the contemporary Soviet intellect 
PLAYBOY: How would you characterize the 
Russian intelligentsia today? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Let me reply with 
ample. Last year, I was in the Far 
visiting a big fishing collectiv 
have 
man carns betwee! 
bles a mouth 
individual worker. What interested me 
most, however, was their library: a huj 
ne library. 1 looked through the check. 
out records to sce which people had 
ken out which books and came a 
the 4 for one electrician. During 
the past year alone, he had read the 
complete works of Anatole France— 
cight s, 1 believe—plus all 90 
Theodore Dreiser, a collection 
vía Lorca, The Forsyte 
Saga, the complete works of Mark Twain 
and John Updike's The Centaur, a very 
complex book. Also, the man was ap 
parently so impressed with AIL the King's 
Men that he Гайса to return й. He pre- 
ferred to pay five times the actual. cost 
of the book, just to keep it. Now, this 
n is an electrician at a fishing collec 
tive. But obviously, he is also an intellec 


16 of their own boats and 
1000 and 


00 ru- 
e lor an 


a very 


ross 


rece 


volui 
olumts of 
of verses by б. 


nal What I see is e in 
Russia, which earlier w trated 
like tea in the bouom of a cup. now 


touches virtually everyone in the country. 
OF couse, not reached the out 
standing level of intellectual апай 
elite enjoyed in the middle of 
tT have high hopes, 


we 


PLAYBOY: How long do you think this 
will take? 
YEVTUSHENKO: If everything поез well. 


I believe an extraordinary occurrence 
could take place in my country: E think 
that in a span of one or two more 
ions, we might become the first 
nation of intellectuals. Perhaps this ix 
naive, but it is my belief. The condi 
tions for its realizati dy exist 
such large 


Nowhere are books pri 
editions and read so widely; nowhere is 
there such a demand for art; nowhere is 
it so dillicult to get into a theater. 


PLAYBOY: That might ii e a shortag 

of theaters rather Шап a cultural 
resurgence, 

YEVTUSHENKO: You said that facctioush 


but there is an element of truth there, 
and 1 frankly prefer it th: - Consid 
er the alternative: On one of my 
to America, 1 stopped in at a beautiful 
museum in Cleveland. A marvelous 
Miró exhibition had just opened, but 
the place was almost empty. What 
waste. For the first Picasso exhibition in 
Moscow, which 1 helped tens 
of thousands of people lined up in the 
streets. The only ume Га se 
that before was during World War 
when people were waiting for 
think this is one of the great achieve 
ments of our society: The demand for 
culture is now as broad as the demand 
lor bread. 

PLAYBO! 15 аз common. 
as bread, 15 
YEVTUSHENKO: If you arc asking me to 
explain why bread is so tasteless in your 
country, I cannot answer, 

PLAYBOY: We were thinking specifically of 
your own poetry. Doesn't the vast size 
of your audience allea what you write? 
YEVTUSHENK: 
а touch of diductigism creeps into my 
verses. The tendency is often reinforced 
because, when 1 alize the 
arc exhib- 


But when cult 


t it also ax bli 


In а way, yes. Sometimes 


write, 1 vi: 
v me. П you 
iing paintings in a small hall, you can 
show delicate Hile water colors. That's 
fine: The hall is small and everyone can 
get dose to see the details. Bur if you 
are exhibiting to masses of people, in 
order to reach those in the very last row 
you've got to show murals: bold smokes 
in charcoal, raw and sharp. 

PLAYBOY: In the West. this sot of work 
is often called propagan 
YEVTUSHENKO: ln a sense, vou are right. 
One must be very careful. I you work 
only i yom 1 
begin to resemble posters. But don't 
forget that for most ol our history, our 
people have had to endure tenible dep 
rivation: hunger, suffering, lack of shel 
ter, lack of clothing, War has taken an 
awful toll in our country, Alter World 
War Two, the amount of rebuilding to 
be done was st The first Five 
Year Plan was devoted solely to heavy 
industry. Light industry was completely 


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PLAYBOY 


no 


огей. The population of the big cit 
were 


ey soared, but new houses 
built. There were no consumer 
remember Victory Day—May 9. 
in Red Square. The place was teemî 
Of all the women there, I didit see a 
single one їп ladies’ shoes; ай wore 
combat boots, Today. in the same place. 
you Gm see high school £ ing the 
Latest dances in their min 

So short a period ol time—and such а 
different country. Very strange. even dis 
turbing. People are yearning for comfo: 
nd, God knows, they deserve it; they 
е worked so hard and sullered so 
much that they've earned the right to 
bener lile. Many new houses are being 
D not quite as beautiful as they 
might be, unfortunately. but a welcome 
change from ihe horrible communal 
apartments where people were crammed 
into common kitchens and forced 10 spit 
мо one another's borsch. People arc 
dressing betier, living better, relaxing 
little. enjoying themselves. The Chinese 
have accused us of becoming bourgeois. 
Not true, of course, but there is ele- 
ment of danger in excessive appetites, 
excessive greed. 

Thats why 1 believe one of the tasks 
for our writers is to help our citizens by 
cautioning that in the pursuit of n 
terial comfor hey don't lose sight of 
cultural spiritual and moral values. 
This is not propaganda. nor docs it 
necessarily have to be expressed in а 
loud voice. Didacticism is a legitimate 
part of poetry—more so im шу soaety 
than in yours—bur to some extent in 
But it far from bei ll of 
poetry, Many times a thought is more 
powerful or more profound il it is ex- 
prewed in a whisper rather than in à 
shout. Im always conscious of the dis 
tinction between shouting and whisper 
ing, and I think this has helped my 
poetry. When I find myself shouting too 
auch, 1 try consciously to whisper for 
while. Bul poetry must reflect the whole 
range of the human voice: shouts, whis- 
pers, laughter, conversation, moa 
even silence. Only then will it reflect the 
whole range of lile for a vast aud 
PLAYBOY: Vast audiences are precisely the 
point ar which you depart from your 
poetic counterparts in the U S. Many 
poets view their wor 

а private communication. 
of reading their verses to la 
you do—is seen as somet 
on. At the very least, 
they say, roys personal comm: 
cuion. As a mauer of face, of the r 
tively few American poets who make 
frequen ppears most are re 
girded as performers rather than as pots. 
Where do you fit in? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Pandering 10 the publ 
by reading cheap, emotional verses—the 
sort ol poetry that we colloquially de- 
Russia ау “the blue snot of 


no 


both, 


icc 


хайре in 


sentimentalism"—this is surely prostitu- 
tion. There are poets like this in both 
countries. We can't throw these perlorm- 
ers off the stage—but we shouldn't allow 
them to monopolize it. either. In terms 
of real poetry. good poetry, | can't be- 
lieve there's a poet on this сап who 
doesn’t want to speak directly to people. 
When s hear my poetry, they hear 
my confession; they absorb my sullering. 
If 1 touch a common chord, then its it 
libera them as well as [or me. 
We our troubles; that makes 
both our burdens lighter. 

I I1 may say so. 1 think it’s a great 
defect of Americam culture that , your 
poets are so seldom ollered this opportu 
nity: poetry evenings are тате events in 
your coumry. Your poets have little or 
о chance to perfect their delivery. So if 
they say they prefer not to (ead on 
television or in large auditoriums. this 
could be from few that they won't do а 
good job. But 1 doubt it. I think their 
response is one of wounded. pride—be- 
cause asks them to read 
under such circum Vd feel the 
same way. Yevtushenko and Voznesensky 
come te America and are offered po 
diums that are largely unavailable to 
your own major poets. If they were of- 
fered similar opportunities, I'm sure they 
would read with great pl It is a 
matter of what people are accustomed 10. 

I was at a dinner party a few weeks 
d a schoolteacher told me. very 
troduced poetry 
asses. She 


for 


по one ever 


сех. 


sure. 


proudly. that she had 
recitation into her prim 
was surprised when I didn't react with 
much enthusiasm. But the truth is, I 
am shocked that poetry recitation isn't 
taught to small children everywhere in 
America, tier of course. Опе of 
ag recitals this trip was 
school in Winston-Salem, 
1500 kids, a very suc 
Alterward, 1 asked ii 
Am poets had ever recited at that 
school. The answer was no. James Dick 
ey lives in the next state, but he'd never 
been asked; I had 10 come halfway 
around the world. This is а tragic situa 
tion. because one of the great thin 
about public poetry readings is that they 
can reach people who have not previously 
been touched by poetry. Listeners then 
become readers, and the cause of poetry 
d pocts—is helped. Ivy really too 
bad that America doesn't give more at 
tention to o 

PLAYBOY: One of the rc; 
lect may be tha 


my most те 
и a high 
North Caroli 


cessful r 


ganizing such e 


s 
s lor this neg 
t not too many people 


tend. 
Well, 1 think my own cx- 
Madison Square Garden 
denies that, At this res your ow: 


pocts——Dickey. 


PLAYBOY: You omitted the name of E 
gene McCarthy, who also read that night 
YEVTUSHENKO: 1 had some trouble with 


McCarthy. as you probably know. T had 
been very sympathetic toward. him, dur 
the time when he had such g 
support from students and. intellectuals 
and progressives generally—when he was 
making those stirring speeches about civic 
courage and individual responsibility 
But his conduct at. Madison Square Gar 
den did not live up to my expectations. 
PLAYBOY: What happened? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Well. this was а very spe- 
Gal performance belore a large audience 
5000 or more, In situation like that. 
onstage, Everything 


eat 


you can't improvise 
was agreed to during rehearsals. Mc 
Carthyewas to read а portion of a poem 


of mine, dedicated to Robert Kennedy, 
written shortly after his assassination. 
The portion included these lines: 


The stars in your flag, America, 
Are bullet holes. 


word 


These are st of course 
Many people in the audience wouldn't 
like them. But McCarthy had agreed to 
read them. Then, in the middle of the 
performance, he thrust this portion of 
the poem into my handy and said: “Read 
it yourself” He knew perfectly well thar 
this wouldn't work, I can't read English 
in public: my pronunciation. isn't 
enough, Fortunately. an old friend ot 
was on the sage He understood 
1 and saved the day. 
at a reception afterward, Me 
thy congratulated me on the success 
and mude a special point 
with him 


ood 


of ilic even 
of asking me to get toget 
privately for a talk. It м 
plexing. The meeting never 
because a few days Lucr, in 
zine, McCarthy was quoted as мута 
that the whole performance w хар.” 
ora long while 1 couldn't understand 
what McCarthy was up 10, bur now I 
think I know. He was nying to please 
100 many people. He wanted ло please 
the leftists in ihe audience, so he read 
some of liis own. verses about. Vietnam 
He wanted to please rightist elements 
so he dropped а few nasty lines to 
Time, telling them just what they need 
ed for a report that put me down. And 
he wanted to please me. so he cony 

to the reception, In ап 
h The New York Times, 1 said 1 
felt betrayed by Eugene Mel thy, A 
man [ spoke ro hater toll me 1 
shouldn't feel betrayed 1 
why. He said: “McCarthy is a pol 
I profession is 10 betray people 
This is unfortunate, but I think it са 
е clement of truth, I prefer 
politicians without hypocrisy. 
PLAYBOY: What do you think of McC 
poet? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Of his verses that I've read, 
Ive found nothing extraordinary, and 
nothing offe However, his 
reading w 
felt that poetry is somel 
y speech—perhaps because of it 


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PLAYBOY 


112 commercial TV. How many Am 


At Madison Square Garden, Me- 
Garthy was supposed to make a sho 
statement and then read some of hi 
poetry. I couldn't tell when the speech 
ended 
haps that's the 
perhaps it reflects my 
English. But I would rather not talk 
about this any further. The point 1 
was trying to make, when you asked 
about McCarthy, was that the American 
poets who read with me that night were 
very well received. And on the bi 

this, and from my other exp 
around the country, I think the American 
public has a deep and genuine apprecia 

n of poetry. 

PLAYBOY: How can you say that? Willi 
Cullen. Bryant sold more poetry 100 
years ago th ny of our better poets 
would dream of selling today. 
YEVTUSHENKO: You arc talking 
poetry as if it were tooth paste. The 
роегв role is not to sell poems but to 


nd when the poetry began. Per 


ише of his poetry, ог 
k of facility with 


about 


write them. 
PLAYBOY; We were simply taking issu 
with your statement that Americans have 


а deep appreciation of poetry. 
YEVTUSHENKO: I think they do. But to 
say that Americans love poetry is not to 
say that their love is being satisfied, 
Look at your television. In the Soviet 
Union, we have what amounts to a 
ntinuing advertising campaign on be- 
half of poetry. One of the regular Гед 
tures of our televisi ing is 
ams. Within this 
Special section for 
poetry. For all practical purposes, poetry 
is now aired on our television every day 
These evening programs are broadcast 
via satellite to the remotest corners of 
the Soviet Union. People in the most 
isolated villages in Siberia can see thei 
favorite poets. Theres also a weekly 
progam devoted 10 young poets, Here 
unknowns are welcome, sometimes even 
those who haven't published a single linc. 
OI course, this is ап enormous айу 
ment. for them and their work. This sort 
ming has made a tremendous 
1 encouraging popular 
pprcciation of poctry. 
PLAYBOY: Isn't ther only onc ch; anel? 
YEVTUSHENKO: In a sense. The choice is 
to wath or not to watch, and many 
people don't, But once a: consider 
the alternative. IE we wanted to, I'm 
sure we could create a socialist equiva 
lent of Let's Make а Deal, or something 
equally mindless. Millions of people 
would probably watch it. Bad taste is 
universal; it has nothing to do with how 
we structure our societies. But the point 
is: Toward what end would we be pro- 
pressing if we were to pander to such 
banality? Better to watch pocts or noth- 
ing at all. I understood this contradic 
tion very clearly when I arrived in you 
country this time and almost immedi- 
ately was invited to read my poetry on 
сап 


m progi 


hoan 


poets have had opportunity, 
over a lifetime? I know what's going on, 
though: Fm а Russian, Tm news. So I 
read my poetry. 

I must say, howeve 


it’s not very 


pleasant to have one's recital of lyrical 
love verses followed by an advertisement 
for panty hose, But our societies have 


comparable shortcomings: In the Soviet 
Union, many of our programs are too 
lactic, very boring: American educa. 
tional programs are excellent, very excit 
ing. yet not many people scem to watch 
them. And for the rest. who can say that 
it’s better than what we have in Russ 
IE I were an American, 1 would put the 
improvement of commercial television 
very high on my list of priorities. М 
Americans seem to cat food only if its 
advertised. If this is so, then you should 
also advertise poetry the way we do. 
PLAYBOY: Are there other devices to fos 
popular appreciation of poeuy in 
the Soviet Union? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Yes. Most important is our 
Writers Union. Nothing like this exists 
in the United States, and I think that’s 
regrettable. For one thing. there's a 


Y 


meetings between writers and. 1caders— 
recitals, readings, discussion groups, all 
sorts of get-togethers. T u n the past 
two years alone they have set up 10.000 
such events, Also, we now have an annu- 
al Pocuy Day, which has become а 
tional tradition. At first it was observed 
only in Moscow, but now it is celebrated 
in all the big cities. And we're begin 
g to organize росту evenings to cele 
brate the I ys of our great national 
poets, On Blok's birthday, we set up a 
reading at the place where his library 
was burned: a charming rural spot 
about 60 miles from Moscow. Ten thou 
sand people gathered in the fields there 
to hear poetry. 


PLAYBOY: How is the Writers Union 
structured 
YEVTUSHENKO: The national union is com- 


prised of the members of 15 local unions 
representing all the republics of the 
U. S. S. R. There are also separate locals 
n the Larger cities. Total membership is 
about 6000. 

PLAYBOY: How d 


decides whether an applicant is quali- 
fied. Formerly, to be accepted, you had 
10 have published at least one book. 
Even then, you weren't necessarily ac 
cepted. But in the last year or so, the 
requirements have been relaxed. 
PLAYBOY: Is membership in the 
nist Party a prerequisite? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Not at all. E am not a party 
member, nor ny others, 
The Union 
powerful, isn’, it? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Yes. The membership ii 
cludes virtually all the best writers in 
the country, and the union itself. pub- 


Commu- 


very 


lishes many magazines and periodic 
Some of these are quite substantial, per 
haps 300 pages cach, with no adver 
ing: just prose, poetry, criticism and a 
scattering of political essays. Also, the 
union publishes a magazine that trans 
lates important foreign works, prose and 
poetry. Many American writers have 
been represented. here. There's also a 
literary fund to which every writer must 
contribute a perc e of his ro 
The fund also gets a royalty percent 
from the republication of our classics, 


ind union members сап draw money 
from the fund to underwrite projects 
they might want to get involved in. 
PLAYBOY: How docs this work? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Fach year, every member 


of the union can draw out enough to 
cover expenses Гог a one month trip 
anywhere in the U.S. S. R. One month is 
the usual limit, but for a special азы 
ment, die grant сап гип up to three 
months. АЙ expenses аге covered — 
vthing. The fund also provides spe 
cial grants to promising young writers 
who might need money. There are no 
i hed: if the writer is capable 
and needy. he gets the money gratis; a 
great source of support for new writers. 
Also. loans are available for proven writ 
ers, repayable in two or three years 
This enables a man to support himself. 
while he writes a book. Besides this, 
the fund owns about 20 cottages—houses 
ol literature, we call them—scattered 
around the Soviet Union, mostly in for 
r at the seashor ach writer is 
mined accommodation at опе ol 
these, one month a year, for a very nomi. 
nal sum—about 80 rubles for everything. 
These are nice places to work on a book, 
to think. to relax—or even to have a 
party. Unfortunately, some writers like 
the setup so much that they travel on 
various pretexts from one house to an 
other, without ever doing much wor! 
gs like that are the same the world 


Do you owe your own success 
in Russia to such union benefits? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Not really, beciuse most 
of these things сате into being after I 
had become recognized, 1 think my auto- 
biography was partly responsible for my 
success. lis publication created а great 
stir and sparked interest in my poetry 


YEVTUSHENKO: Only in a small way. My 
being known around the world is kurz 
a matter of luck. I was fortunate noi 
when all 


to grow up in an 
nations of the world were drawing to 
gether. And Um probably the only ma 
jor poet who's intimately familiar with 
both the capitalist and the socialis 
worlds, Certainly I don't know another 
poet who has traveled as widely in both 
worlds. Pve always tried to write poems 


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PLAYBOY 


114 


that would appeal to the best people in 
both worlds. 

PLAYBOY: Do you feel that your fame 
may have, in any way, corrupted you? 
YEVTUSHENKO: I’ve alicady had a run-in 
with fame and come through it. Thi 
happened in 1956, and nobody noticed 
it except me. I came to grips with star- 
dom, a very formidable opponent, but 1 
won. The following year, the critics be- 
gan to write that I was being spoiled by 
my fame and—critics being what they 
are—they've been saying that ever since. 
But “the dog bar 1 the caravan goes 
on"—a bit ol wisdom I picked up in Asia. 
PLAYBOY: Hasn't your fame also brought 
you wealth? 

YEVTUSHENKO: That's nonsense, Wealth 
—by your standards—is a misfortune 
that cannot occur in a socialist societ 
By the standards of my country, I am 
fairly well off. But so are many others. 
PLAYBOY: How are writers paid in your 
country? 

YEVTUSHENKO: We receive royalties, just 
like writers in the West. But since press 
runs are fixed, royalties are not based 
directly on sales. Payment is made on 
the basis of the length of the work—per 
printed signature, actually. A signature 
runs 20 or 21 typewritten pages, and the 
payment per signature is 300 or 400 
rubles. If the size of the edition is larg: 
er, then the payment to the writer is 
also larger, but not in direct proportion. 
1—5 all very complex. In addition, the 
author can sell the same material to 
magazines, just as in the U. S. 

PLAYBOY: You've done quite well selling 
your works to American publishers. 
What do you do with the money? 
YEVTUSHENKO: 1 don't get that much, 
actually. At least, no more than I man- 
age to spend before 1 leave. Tra i 
expensive. Also, I have lots of friends; 
опе of my hobbies is buying gilts for 
them, Of course, | could deposit this 
moncy in a bank in the Soviet Union. 
But there's usually none left. 

PLAYBOY: Which of your works published 
country—those that Ame 


might know—most satisfies you? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Dilhcult to say. I wrote a 

poem called Bratskaya Ges—which, 
ans 


literally translated, me “Brotherly 
te Hydroclecuic Station.” Not a very 
ud и isn't а very elega 
poem, either. Many passages in it 
perfect; it contains too much rhetoric. 
Still, I was trying to lift a huge boulder. 
None of my poems is perfect; 1 can see 
weak points in all of them. But I most 
respect those poems that involved lifting 
very heavy stones, even if they kept 
slipping from my hands. 
PLAYBOY: Who arc your favor 
can writers? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Your questions provoke 
long monologs. Let us begin with writers 
who are dead. My favorites are Herm 
Melville, Washington Irving, Henry 


е Ameri 


David Thoreau, Edgar Allan Рос, Jack 
London, Е. Scott Fitzgerald, Ernest 
Hemingway. I like Hemingways per- 
sonality as well as his writing. A Fare- 
well to Arms is a very strong book; I 
think his personality shows through 
there, as well as his skill I also like 
Walt Whitman, who had a very strong 
influence on Russian. poetry of the post- 
Revolutionary cra. I've mentioned that 
Mayakovsky was especially influenced by 
Whitman; but he was also influenced by 
Jack London, whom he often quoted. I'm 
so a great fan of Dreiser. I love him 


despite his sentimentalism and his pri 
tiveness. He was an American Balzac: 
He, too, tried to lift big stones—one 


can't help but admire thar 


Joh 


ly 
Dos Passos, His carly novels had a 
great influence on Russian prose. Also 
Erskine Caldwell and John Steinbeck; 
their carly novels were very influential. 
Among living writers, my favorite 
would probably be Robert Penn W. 


ren. АЙ the King's Men is one of the 
most popular American novels ever pub- 
hed in Russia, We even made a televi- 


ion movie out of itso successful that 
it was broadcast [our times, by popuku 
request. The Peler Principle was also 
very popular in Russia—lor obvious rea- 
sons. As I've said belore, the problems 
that both our societies face aren't that 
different. 1 enjoyed Saul Bellow's Herzog, 
and I also hke the works of Bernard 
Malamud, expecially his short stories, As 
for Tennessee Williams. һе has alway 
fascinated me. He comes close to being a 
рос of the drama, a strange and surely 
controversial playwright. 1 also like Ed- 
‚ especially The Zoo Story. 


n Mailer, though only а cou- 
ple of his books have been translated 
to Russian—The Naked and the Dead 
and his book about the 1968 сопу 
1 think that was first-class jour 
addition, I have gr 
writers 


tion 
alism. In 
at respect for such 
s John Updike, John 
William Styron, 7 
п Hellman, sl 
mes Jones and William Saroyan 
PLAYBOY: ‘Though he's Russian, Vladimir 
Nabokov is as widely read in the U. S. as 
some of the American authors you've 
named. How do you [cel about his work 
іп either lan je? 


YEVTUSHENKO: First, let me say this about 
ters, musi- 


M 
can endure 


émigré writers in gene 
cians and dance 


nce are i 


—is built on langu anguage is 
constantly changing. Emigré writers in 
evitably lose contact with the cont 
development of their nativ 
is like a pianist developing arthritis о 
painter going blind, But Nabokov is a 
strange bird: or, to use his own meta- 
phor, a strange butterfly. His works are 
not of this world, nor of the moon, They 


are like an arti 
constructed, artfully contrived, but the 
have neither the smell of the earth nor 
the shimmer of the cosmos. His world is 
totally his own, Make no mistake, he is 
a great master; but in his mastery there 
is something strange. A Russian lady. i 
a conversation with me, brilliantly de- 
fined. Nabokov’s skill, which is also his 
weakness. She said: "Whenever 1 read 
okov, I have the impression of h 
the clatter of glittering surgical 
a marble floor. 
s a great puzzle to me and 
to every other Russian who apprec 
literature. He's constantly declari 
he's not at all interested 
today he doesn't care 
his works are read in Russi 
But you don't have to be a. Freudian to 
realize that this constant indi- 
cates a very deep interest in precisely 
the thing denied. Why would he spend 
so much time translating Lolita into Rus- 
sian if he didn't care if anyone in Rus 
ма were to read it? Here is this man, 
living in Switzerland in contempt of al- 
most everybody, but nevertheless trying 
to prove that he's a beer master of 
Russian than anyone else in the world 
ls as if he were constantly nyi 
respond to some imaginary Russian ac- 
cuser telling him he's lost touch with his 
native language. But even in English his 
words, phrases and sentences show too 
much effort to be beautiful. His sentences 
are like ballet dancers: If you get too 
close, you smell the sweat 
Part of the problem, I think, is that 
Nabokov does not love people very 
deeply. The tragedy is that he under- 
stands this and suffers from it but can't 
do a thing about it. You suller- 
all his prose. I best 
The Defense; his sull 


а jot 


whether 


denial 


his 


tive. There's absolutely no question in 


my mind that Nabokov longs desper- 
ately to reum to Russi aps he 
just wants to be М у nd meet 
that girl again, Perhaps more. Its a 


commentary on his greatness that we 
cam talk this long about him without 
reaching any conclusion. 1 think he's 
е of the most contradictory figures in 
the whole history of literature. Ivs difi- 
cult to imagine another writer whose 
works are so graceful and yet so artifi- 
and who at the sa e has been 
deprived of his homeland for so many 
years, One wonders what sort of 
ness he 
ferent circumstances. 

PLAYBOY: Nabokov might reply that he 
would have achieved no greatness at all 
—that he would not have been allowed 
to publish in Russi, 
YEVTUSHENKO: He left before I wi 
and I have nothing to say 
events. His works now circulate freely 
among Soviet writers. May 


cat- 
di 


PORATION 
s 


PLAYBOY 


few words about questions like this in 
general? 

PLAYBOY: Of course. 

YEVTUSHENKO: I was on a talk show a few 
weeks ago. Before the show was to be- 
gin, the hostess submitted her questions 
to шу translator. They were slippery, 
monstrous questions t demonstrated. 
her total ignorance of life in my coun- 


uy. She was under the impresion, for 
example, that our poet Alexander Tvar- 
dovsky had died in prison, under arrest. 
She expressed her very deep sympathy 


and alarm. When I asked if she had 
read his verses, she became embarrasscd 
and admitted she had not. But she pro- 
fessed to have been deeply moved by 
photographs taken at his funeral. The 
whole thing reminded me of something 
Pushkin once said about people "who 
cm love only the dead." There seems 
to be a certain category of people in 
erica whose concern for Russians is 
limited to those who are either dead or 
under arrest. To this category of people, 
Americans in similar plights are only 
secondarily important, Questions about 
these suffering Russians are always asked 
with the same sweet smile. 
To get back to this show, we 
cached an understanding with this lady 
that she would not ask such questions 
on the air. I told her that 1 was а poet 
and asked that she confine her questions 
to literature, about which I might have 
something worth while to say. But when 


we began our televised conversation, she 
sked me the same questions anyway. It 
I turned our all right, but it started 


me thinking: Why are some people so 
concerned about freedom in Russia? 1 
consider myself a free man, and so do 
rymen, The need for freedom 
1 and human. But in my coun- 
uy it is not а custom to run around 
shouting, “I am free! I am free!” 

What perplexes me is that these very 
people who are so concerned about frec- 
dom in the Soviet Union don't under- 
stand that they themselves arem't free. 
They are not free from their prejudices 
d here I king about ra- 
cial prejudices so much as political and 
economic ones; they are not free from 
their own ignorance; and they are cer- 
ainly not free from tactless behavior 
toward visitors from the Soviet Union, I 
am never one to say that my society is 
perfect; it is not. Nor is yours. And it is 
up to the good people in both countries 
to work toward remedying them. 
PLAYBOY: On the subject of remedying 
social defects, what can you tell us of 
anti-Semitism in Russia—a subject that's 
been in the news so much lately? 
YEVIUSHENKO: The reason the subject is 
in the news, presumably, is that so many 
Jews are now leaving Russia, ОЁ cours 
Jews have been going to Istael from all 
over Europe, and from America, too. 


am not ta 


116 But never before have so many departed 


from the Soviet Union. Some of them 
are defaming my country after they 
others are not, Some are even 


PLAYBOY: Is antic sm officially toler- 
ated on any level of your society? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Absolutely not. Official 
anti-Semitism does not exist in Russia. 
It's utterly contrary to socialist. prindi- 
ples. It is lc to be a Communist 
and these are mutually 
exclusive positions. This is not to say 
m doesn’t exist on а 
personal level, just as Шеге is sull dis- 
imination against blacks in parts of 
your society. Actually, the roots of both 
are sin While Semitism never 
our 
czars frequently used the Jews as scape- 
goats for the economic plight of the 
Russian masses. They would say to our 
peasants and workers: “Look, Ivan 
Ч and your finger- 
re dirty, you have nothing. And 
there is the Jew—well dressed, fat, with 
fine light hands. With his commerce and 
his cu g. he sucks your blood.” This 
was false, of course. But it was casy for 
peasants to accept, and a residue of this 
attitude still persists among uncultured 
segments of our society. 

‘One of the first steps of our Revolu- 
tion was a series of offici 15 against 
anti-Semitism. Lenin spoke against it 
many times. Mayakovsky wrote а won- 
derlul poem on the subject. I've written 


па 
п. No matter what beautilul socio- 
logical schemes the burcaucrats might 


concoct, people change slowly. But they 
change. Among our young people, I 
have never seen a single person display 
any sort of anti-Semitism. I'm positive 
the problem will disappear totally in 15 
or 20 years, ‘The situation of Jews in our 
country has greatly improved already. 
But this does not mean that the prob- 
Jem has been fully resohed. It’s a very 
difficult problem—not only in the Soviet 
Union but everywhere. 

Onc to the difficulty is that the 
Jewish people lacked their own country 
for so many years. The other is that ves- 
tiges of old anti-Semitic attitudes still 
persist. among uneducated people the 
world over. We mustn't forget this, but 
we shouldn't exa 


Meir Kahane and his Jewish Defense 
League are helpful. On the contrary, 
they only increase tension. 

PLAYBOY: Didn't you have some trouble 
with the J.D. L. on your recent tour? 
YEVTUSHENKO: No. No one from the 
J-D. L. bothered me. My troubles were 
with Ukrainian nationalists. They pushed 
me off a stage; I fell six leet. They 
kicked me. Poets haye to learn karate 
these days. These Ukrainian liberation- 
ists interrupted me on the David Frost 


s me with anti- 
There was a bomb threat 
Their scurrilous ndbills 


of them said I would read anti-Semitic 
poems; another said LA made $50,000 
from the Madison Square Garden per 
formance. All nonsense, of couse. I 
1 nothing—not one penny. In San 
ncisco, I was attacked by a bunch of 
Maoists. One of them said that I had 
dirtied myself by visiting this despicable 
country. A placard said —in effect—that 
since President Nixon had granted me 
an interview, this was evidence of my 
own dishonesty. What the hell kind of 
logic is that? Mao talked with Nixon. 
and he's their hero. It was all very stanze 
and not at all typical. 


PLAYBOY: What do you think of Nixoi 
overtures to Cl 
YEVIUSHENKO: That is a delicate ques: 


tion, which I can answer only in 
ed way. I think the more con- 
tacts we Is of state, the 
better off we are, especially when the 
exchanges involve diflerent political sys- 
tems. Their contact will be useful in the 
future, so long as the new relationship 
isn't used by either side against the 
interests of the Soviet Union. Another 
world war would be an unimaginable 
tragedy. The recent treaties between our 
tions have greatly decreased the 
y of such a war, and for this all 
nity should be grateful. But when- 
two great powers aligu theunclves 
nst a third, the chances of war are 
increased. I hope this never happens. 
PLAYBOY: What is your fecling about 
China's admission to the UN? 
YEVTUSHENKO: I think it was a good thing. 
despite the demogogic way in which thc 
Chinese have uscd that forum. The most 
dangerous nation is the most isolated one. 
I think it’s a hopeful sign that Chinese 
isolation is diminishing. 
PLAYBOY: Have you ever been to China? 
YEVTUSHENKO: No. I have always dreamed 
of going, but now that's impossible. 
PLAYBOY: Why? Is there a ban on travel 
between the Soviet Union and China? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Not ollicially, but in prac- 
tice it is very dillicult for Soviet cit 
to get visas, except for government del 
gations. My own case is special, because 
the Chinese have called me an Americ 
spy. Imagine that. They published 
photo of me in one of their newspapers. 
doctored to make it appear that 1 w 
almost groveling before Robert Mc 
Namara. This was when he was Secr 
tary of Defense. The caption read: 
“American agent Yevtushenko is asking 
his boss Me? increase in 
salary.” Incredible. But please under 
stand that I have no feclings of hatred 
toward the Chinese people. Nonetheless, 
as a man, I feel insulted by such things. 
Also, as a Russian, I am disturbed that 
the Chinese seem to have forgotten how 


ever 


аз 


amara for an 


PLAYBOY 


we helped them during their revolution. 
Now they are insulting us. 

As a poet, I am also extremely di 
turbed that their younger generation is 
being denied access to the classics of 
ure. The Chinese govern- 
that 


is that? A society that doesn't know 
or Mayakovsky. or Bee- 
is Бей ed 
of a very basic awareness of humanity. 
The results cannot be good. But when 1 
was in Vietnam, I took a walk along Hai- 
phong harbor. A Chinese ship was 
chored there. One of the young sailoi 
was hanging out his shirt to dry. I 
ked at him. He understood that I wi 
Russian and he winked back. Then we 
both smiled, very friendly. Ordinary hu- 
man relations never change, so 
long as people can smile at one anothe 
PLAYBOY: This is your fourth trip to the 
United and cach time yo 
made special efforts to talk to people i 
all walks of life. What changes have you 
observed between 1960 and today? 
YEVTUSHENKO: We must discount my first 
wip, in 1960. I was very naive then. I 
was in a big tourist group, together with 
Voznesensky. We spent most of our time 
buses, and I very much envied Voz 
scuskys English. He could sty things 
like “Where is the men's room?” Also, 
though our rooms and meals were paid 
for, we had only $35 in spending money 
to last three weeks. That didn't go very 
far. 1 got 5100 from Harper's, for a short 
story, amd this seemed an enormous 
mount of money, but Voznesensky 
talked me out of it. We used the money 
to send roses to a girlfriend. of his in 
Warsaw. I had heard rumors about 
American corruption and was very curi 
bout so Voznesensky and 1 
spent most of our $35 at strip joints. He 
subsequently wrote a very great poem 
but I came away with noth. 
curious thing: Americans go 
rope and visit the strip joints 
there, and Europeans come to Ameri 
and do the same thing. 


In subsequent visits, in 1966 and espe- 
cially in 1968, 1 saw much more deeply 
and found tremendous. change: 
s if 


Tt wa 
ng of patriotism 
ed for the bet- 
tion of Mar 
ng and of the Kennedy 
ıd the war in View 
¢ bloody tagedies—have awak 
in the Americam people, the 
Thoreau. I see a new contempt f 
ism, a disdain for vulgar material 
and a rejection of hypocrisy. These are 
very welcome developments, which seem 
to penetrate not only American young 
people but American society generally. 

PLAYBOY: A concomitant development has 
avolved the widespread use of drugs. Has 


the whole m 
d. and ch 


118 your experience taken you that far? 


YEVTUSHENKO: There are few things I 
ете done. Simply out of curiosity 
Туе tried all sorts of drugs. All 1 exper 
enced was an overwhelming desire for 
sleep. I enjoy only one т 
ad that is wine. But С 
wine, and when there wasn't any wine, 
he transformed. water. I have profound 
respect for those who can be drunk with- 
out alcohol, or high without drugs. 
PLAYBOY: Have you ever tried to write 
under the influence of drugs? 
YEVIUSHENKO: No. I know people say 
that drugs can be a source of great 
insight or re tion, bur I think these 
momentary sparks for which the 
ndividual must 
as if one were 
nerves, e: i s pre 
maturely. The result is emptiness in the 
future. You can inject a тозе with chemi- 
cals to make it blossom faster, but it will 
also wither sooner. In this day and age, 
people have to conserve their energies, 
because their spiritual development— 
given all the haste and pressure of mod- 
ern lile—is slower. Many writers now 
produce their best work after 40, just 
because it takes them longer to grow up. 
PLAYBOY; Is there a drug problem in the 
Soviet Union? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Not really. 
dope cı the Twenties, largely 
volving cocaine. But no more. Of course, 
we still have а small number of drug 
addicts, but I don't know a Soviet writer 
who uses narcotics. There was one wom- 
ап, a poet. who had been seriously ill and 
got addicted to painkillers. The habit 
sted a few years, but she outgrew it. 
PLAYBOY: Why do we hear so little about 
women writers? 
YEVIUSHENKO: Only because your hear- 
is poor. In my country, they are 
g a lot of noise—and I mean this 
d We now have an extraordi- 
ry number of talented. women in all 
branches of literature. 1 could me 
many, but I think. me Bella. Akhmadu- 


There was a 


the finest 
n. She writes 
magic 
Everyth s to gold. 
PLAYBOY: Is this appraisal colored by the 
fact that you two were once married? 
YEVTUSHENKO: Not at all. I'm being quite 


of my country—rate ine 
poet no ng in Russ 


very little, but she is like 
ng she touches tu 


objective. The divorce was friendly. and 
she's still a very close friend. We were 
just too similar to be married to cach 


other. I would appraise her poetry the 
sime way even if 1 didn't know he: 
PLAYBOY: We ther that divorce is a 


ely easy procedure in the Soviet 
Union, with few problems about ali 


mony and property division. 
YEVTUSHENKO: Quite so, and thi 
of the great hidden advantages of soci 
ism. Where there is little property, there 
tle to quarrel about. Divorce is very 
easy. The judge docs no more than say 
few words to try to reconcile one's differ- 


is one 


ences, as is his duty. The important 
thing is that the man and the woman 
continue to need each other. When they 
don't, the marriage should be dissolved. 


nd their 
ances, but 1 think they a 
placed. 1 really believe in people 
tion—for women and for men, 


too. 
Normal people are not anti anything. 
The 
th 


re pro-people. I really believe 
all normal. people, deep down, are 
ternationalists. Yet nationalism. still 
persists, Nationalism is the gravest hu 
man sickness, and writers—like myselt 
have to address themselves to curing 


PLAYBOY: Yet you've said you want to stop 
writing poetry. 

YEVTUSHENKO: l'vc written an enor 
amount of poetry, perhaps too mu 
find that I'm ng myself, going 
mages. One of the 
problems of poetry is that while it al 
lows you to express many thi 
doesn't permit you to express every 
thing. I'm almost 40 years old. Think of 
me as an old football player, a veteran 
with vast experience. Now it’s time for 
me to retire, before retirement is forced 
on me. But I love the sport, I love 
literature, and 1 don't want to leave the 
arena. So I'm hoping to cupitalize on my 
experience in a new specialty. I'm going 
to exchange poetry for prose. The strug. 
gle is the same: the struggle with your- 
self, the struggle with words, the struggle 
with bastards, the struggle with the fu- 
И Tm doing is changing stadiums. 
nt to test my gih in anoth 
And maybe this sort of purge will 
help me return to poetry some 
the future, to write poems in 
guage or a different style. 
PLAYBOY: How do you think this change 
fect you personally? 

YEVTUSHENKO: My whole life will bc 
different. First, I don't really enjoy writ- 
ing—I mean, the actual physical process 
of sitting down and making scratches c 
per, The writer is locked up. sepa- 
rated from the rest of humanity, Often. 
when I'm writing, I'm very unhappy 
Here I am, sitting in a room like a sorry 
little clerk. At the same moment, some 
wonderful woman might be passing on 
nearby street; a big ship is prob 
starting a long voyage to 
remote countries; and the sun is rising 
above a lake Гуе never seen. It's possi 


field. 


ble to write poetry with only half. your 
ass on the chair. 
But prose requires a very different 


discipline, You have to write every day, 


in your solitary room. You have to stri 
gle with—and master—your own curios- 
ity about life. Curiosity enriches us, but 
it also destroys concentration. And the 
deepest thoughts are born not in noise 
(concluded on page 25: 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


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New York + Chicago ' Detroit * Los Angeles + San Francisco + Atlanta * London + Tokyo 


120 


TELE 
SILVER 
CROWN 


doubts we all got, said the rabbi— 
we doubt god and god doubts us 


fiction 
By BERNARD MALAMUD 


Gans, THE гатиек, lay dying in a hospital bed. Differ- 
ent doctors said different things, held different the- 
ories. There was talk of an exploratory operation, but 
they thought it might kill him. One doctor said 
cancer. 

“Of the heart,” the old man said bitterly. 

“It wouldn't be impossib 

The young Gans, Albert, a high school biology 
teacher, in the afternoons walked the streets in sor- 
row. What can anyhody do about cancer? His soles 
wore thin with walking, He was easily irritate 
angered by the war, atom bomb, pollution, sickness, 
death, obviously the strain of worrying about his 
father's illness. To be able to do nothing for him 
le him frantic. He had done nothing for him all 
his lif 

A female colleague, an English teacher he had slept 
with once, a girl who was visibly aging, “it 
the doctors don't know, Albert, wy a faith healer. 
Different people know nobody knows 

t tel n body. 

uughed mirthlessly but listened. If special- 
е, who do you agree with? IL you've tried 
g. what else сап you try? 


One alternoon after a long walk alone, as he was 
about to descend the subway stairs somewhere in the 
Bronx, still burdened by his worries, uneasy that 

g had changed, he was accosted by a fat girl 
with bare meaty arms who thrust a soiled тата 


she looks 50 
Her skin glowed, face wet, fleshy, the small mouth 


PLAYBOY 


122 


open and would be forever; eyes set 
wide apart on the broad unfocused face, 
cither washed-out green or brown, or 
one of each—he wasn't sure, She seemed. 
not to mind his appraisal. gurgled faint- 
ly. Her thick r was braided in two 
ropelike strands; she wore bulging cloth 
ppers. bursting at seams and soles; а 
faded red skirt down to missive ankles, 
and a heavy brown sweater vest. but- 
toned over blown breasts, though the 
weather was still hot September 

The teacher's impulse was to pass by 
her outthrust plump baby hand. In- 
stead, he took the card from her. Simple 
curiosity2—once you learned to read, 
you read anything that was handed 10 
you. Charitable impulse? 


Albert recognized Vidd and He- 
rew but read in “He 


Sick. Save the Dying. Make a 
Crown.” 

“What Kind of silver 
that be?” 
she made impossible noises. Depressed, 
he looked away. When his eyes turned to 
hers, she ran off. 


would 


crown 


He studied the card. Silver 
Crown.” ame and 
dress, no les г. dose by 


ified him. He had no idea what it 
h saving the dying but felt 
he ought to know. Although at first 
repelled by the thought, he made up his 
mind to visit the rabbi and felt, m a 
жау, relieved 

‘The teacher hastened along the street 
few blocks until he сате to the ad- 
dress on the card. a battered. synagogue 
а Store, CONGREGATION THEODORE 
ERZL painted in large uneven white 
letters on the plateglass window. The 
rabbi's name, in smaller, gold letters, was 
M. Marcus, In the doorway to the left of 
the store, the number of the house was 
repeated in tin numerals, and on a cud 
under the vacant name plate under the 
menzah appeared im penal, “Rabbi J. 
ifschitz. Retired, Consultations. Ri 
the Bell." The bell, when he had dead- 
ed to chance it, did not work—he heard 
no distant ring—so Albert, his heartbeat. 
erratic, turned the knob, The door gave 
ly enough and he hesitantly walked 
р a dark flight of narrow wooden 
rs Ascending, assailed by doubts, 
peering up through the gloom, he 
thought of turning back but at the 
stfloor landing compelled himself to 
knock loudly on the door 

"Anybody home here?” 

He rapped harder, annoyed with him- 
self for being there, engagmg in the act 
of entrance—who would have predicted 
it an hour ago? The door opened a 
crack and that broad, badly formed face 

ppeared. The retarded girl, squinting 
one bulbous сус, made noises like wo 
eggs frying and ducked back, slamming 
the door. The teacher, after momentary 
reflection, thrust it open in time to see 


her, bulky as she was, running swiftly 
along the long tight corridor, her body 
bumping the walls, before she disap- 
peared into а room at the rear. 

Albert entered cautiously, with a sense 
of embarrassment, if not danger, 


ing himself to depart at once; yet st 
to peck curiously 


nto a front room off 
ened by lowered green 
shades through which threadlike rivuleis 
ol light streamed. The shades resembled 
maps of ancient lands that had ne 
ted. An old gray-bearded man with 
kened left eyelid, wearing а yar- 
mulke. sat heavily asleep. a book on his 
lap. Bring armchair, Soi 
the room gave off a stale odor, untess it 
was the armchair. As Albert stared, the 
old man awoke in a hurry. The small 
thick book on his lap fell with a thump 
to the floor, but instead of picking it up, 
he shoved it with a kick of his heel 
under the chair. 

“So where were we?” he ing 
pleasantly, a bit breathless. 

The teacher removed his hat, remem- 
bered whose house he was in and put it 
back on his head, 

He introduced himself. "I w 
for Rabl 
me in.” 

“Rabbi Lifschitz, this was my daugh- 
ter Rifkele. She's not perfect, though 
God who made her in His image is 
Himself perfection. What this means 1 
don't have to tell you.” 

His heavy eyelid went down i 
voluntarily. 
sat теа! Albert asked. 
1n her way she is also perfect.” 
Anyway, she let me in and hi 
“So what did you decide? 
concerning what, if I may ask?” 
What did you decide about what we 
were talking about—the silver crown?" 

His eyes roved as he spoke; he rubbed 
а nervous thumb and forefinger. Crafty 
type, the teacher decided, Him 1 have to 
watch myself with 

"I came here to find out 
crown you advertised.” he said, "but 
actually we ven't talked about it or 
anything else When I entered here, you 
were sound asleep " 

AL my age...” the rabbi explamed 
with a hte laugh 

“I don't mean any cr 
saying is I am a strange 

“How can we be st 
believe in 4 

Albert made no argument of it 

The rabbi raised the two shades 
the last of daylight fell into the sj 
high-ceilinged room, crowded with at 
least a dozen stiff-backed and folding 
chairs, plus a broken sofa. What kind of 
operation is he running here? Group 
consultations? He dispenses rabbinic 
therapy? The teacher felt renewed dis- 
taste for himself for having come. On 
the wall hung a single oval mirror, 
framed in gold-plated groupings of 


red 


as looking 


à wink, 
ар 


Тат, 


bour this 


ism. АП I'm 
to you 
angers if. we both 


joined metal circles, large and small; 
but no pictures. Despite the empty 
chairs, or perhaps because of them, the 
room seemed barren, 

"The teacher observed that the rabbi's 
trousers wi weck from ragged. He 
was wearing an unpressed worn black 
suit coat and a yellowed white shirt 
without a tie. His wet grayish-blue eyes 
were restless. Rabbi Lifschitz was a 
dark-faced man with brown eye pouches 
and smelled of old age- This was the 
odor. h was hard to whether he 
resembled his daughter; Rifkele resem- 
bled her species. 

"So sit," said the old rabbi with a 
he si; Not on the couch, sit on a 
chair 

“Which in particula 

"You have a first-class sense of hu 
mor.” Smiling absently, he pointed to two 
kitchen chairs and icd himself 

He offered a thin cigarette. 

"Fm off them," the teacher explained 

so." The old man put the pack 
So who is sick?" he inquired. 
Albert tightened at the question as he 
alled the card he had taken from the 
the Sick. Save the Dying.” 

“To come to the point, my father’s in 
the hospital with a serious ailment. In 
fact. he's dying. 

The rabbi, nodding gravely, dug into 
his pants pocket for a pair of glasses. 
wiped them with a large soiled handker- 
chief and put them on. lifting the wire 
pisces over each fleshy car 

“So we will make then a crown for 
him?" 

“That depends. The crow 
came here to find out about.” 

“What do you wish to find ou?" 

"I'll be frank with you.” The teacher 
blew his nose and slowly wiped it. “My 
cast of mind is naturally empiric and 
objective—you might sa 
T'm suspicious of fanh healing, but I've 
come here, frankly, because I want to do 

possible to help my father 
his former health. To put it 
otherwise, I don't want anything to go 
untried. 

"You love your father?" the rabbi 
ducked, а glaze of sentiment veiling his 
cyes 

“What I feel is obvious. My real cor 
cern right now mainly is how docs th: 
crown work? Could you be explicit 
about the mechanism of it all? Who 
wears it, for instance? Does he? Do you 
Or do I have to? In other words, how 
does it function? And if you wouldn't 
mind saying. what's the principle, or та 
tionale, behind it? This is terra incognita 
for me, but I think I might be willin 
take a chance if I could justify it to my 
self, Gould I see a sample of the crown 
for instance, if you have one on hand?” 

The rabbi, with an absent-minded 
start, seemed to interrupt himself about 
to pick his nose. 


са 


is what I 


(continued on page 272) 


“ m 
Oops—wrong bag: 


— 


the boys say carmine tramunti never 
got oud of the peasant|dirt, but make 
p don't serve him a sloppy drink 

А | ү И MP ER 


LM 


IT’S LATE JUNE 1972 and I'm sitting in my car in 
a quiet, working-class neighborhood just a short 
distance from the Whitestone Bridge in Queens, 
New York, tracking down a Майа Godfather. 
The Whitestone section is filled with cottages and 
bungalows whose uniformity give it the appear- 
ance almost of a Levittown. Trees that have grown 
past suburban adolescence umbrella over the road- 
way. A green belt of lawns runs down both sides 
ot the street, shrubs against the houses are care- 
fully barbered and flowers fill the borders. 

So normal. And so jolting. As if a time/space 
warp has distorted my senses. I've come to check 
out the mansion of Carmine Tramunti, who is 
indeed one of the three remaining Mafia God- 
fathers in New York. (There had been five God- 
fathers here during the past few decades of local 
Mafia history, but a recent attrition by lead has 
buried one for all time and turned another into a 
mindless blob, and now there are three.) Gribbs, 


anthony сао Т 


DESIGNED BY GORDON MORTENSEN 
PHOTOGRAPHED BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


PLAYBOY 


125 gardens—protect 


they call Tramunti. Or Gribbsy, if you're 
part of the inner circle, or a name drop- 
per People in the Mob who delight in 
talking about such things call him a 
Godfather, while law-enforcement offi 
jals use the phrase “one of the most 
nt crime overlords in the coun- 
munti was groomed for his role 

s by his own Godfather. 


the reverence that has alwa 
manded by the Mussolinis of the Mafia. 
When Tramunti’s predecessor died ¢ 
of those rare natural deaths а [ew years 
ago. Tramunti inherited the crown. 

So where the hell's the manor house 
befitting a Mafia don? 

I know I have the correct address, 
145-79 Sixth Avenue, Queens. No mim- 
though. Not for miles around. 
Mansion? Most salesmen, bricklayers and 
ation workers demand more than 


this of the American dream. The mansion 
1 expected turns out to be IL two: 
story house almost shochorned into a 


GÜ'x 100” plot. Terribly modest for 
Mafia. Codfather. 

A couple of miles a The Godja- 
ther, Mario Puzo's epic romance of mod- 
ern American subculture heroes, i 
ninth record-breaking week 


borhood moviehouse. I just came from 
the 


three-hour 
ing along 


there, going through 
catharsis once 
with the matinee audience of housewives 
when Michael Corleone put a bullet 
through the face of that dirty bastard 
police captain, McCluskey. 
pound of hom 

Don Vito Corleone dal Ma 
ghts lived and plotted was a fortress 
in modern dress, precisely the style we'd 
expect of our robber baron: 

Has Puzo conned us all? Has his rich 
ion created palaces out of cot- 
Hell, no. From personal experi 
ence I know that the Castle Corleone 
was an understatement that didn't even 
come close to the regal style of a real 
don's home. 

The Italian neighborhood in Brook- 
lyn where 1 grew up in the Forties 
typically lower middle class, м 
its own way to Tramunti's present 
except for two houses not far from min 
One was on a dead-end street that was 
always the first to be plowed of snow in 
the winter and scrubbed pure the rest of 
the year by sanitation workers with their 
litle handcarts, brooms and shovels. The 
was indeed а mansion. Three 
stories of solid brick, at least 25 rooms, 
expensive canvas awnings at every win- 
tall, spiked wroughtiron fence 
ding a huge plot of ground. It 
s the home of Joe Profaci, the Olive 
Oil King, at that time the most power- 
ful mafioso in the counuy. And on the 
next street, sharing common backyard 
at their backs and 


house 


al stu of which survival 
s the equally impressive 
home of Joe Magliocco, Profaci's brother- 
w and the underboss of his N 
family. Those homes, forming their own 
mall that surpassed the Corleones as а 
Mafia show place, towered over every- 
thing else in the neighborhood 

Tramunti? It must be some sort of 
joke. A man of honor, as they still cali a 
mafioso in the old country, wouldn't be 
caught dead in 

Enough notes and memories; 
to ring the bell and see if I ca 
Tramunti or his wife at home. 
quick look at my full-length photo of 
Tramunti. Not a very good one, it was 
snapped by a cop toiling away in the 
sement of police headquarters follow 

Tramunti’s most recent arrest, а 
year before. I've seen Gribbs a few times 
and know what he looks like, but I want 
to be certain in case 1 get lucky and he 
comes to the door. He's 
weighs 210 pounds, looks extremely mus- 
cular and street tough. The roll of 
beginning to show around his waist and 
the jowls that fill his cheeks in no way 
diminish his sinister aura—he can prob- 
ably match strong arms with the 
best bone crunchers in the business, 
though he's 62 years old. 

Out of the car, cross the street and 
ring Tramunti’s bell. The chimes go off. 
Chimes, for Chrissakes. A dog barks, 
loudly. No one comes to the door except 
ше dog, gaius it from 
inside and barking in a staccato style 
t sounds like a hoarse tommy gun in 
a Jimmy Cagney film. Obviously. no 
one’s home. 1 try to get a glimpse of the 
living room through a small opening in 
the heavy silk drapes. There's a long 
a coffee table, brass lamps on side 
n Provincial style. what 
ky, but clearly expensive. The 
most costly tackiness available. Wander 
around back. to the garden. Just like 
any other suburban back yard. Not even 
а tomato patch like the one Don Cor- 
leone tended in his final years, the one 
in which he died a most death 
whispering. “Life is so beautiful 
left out of the film, unfortunately. 

1 was sorry there was no to 
patch, because it would have fit perlect- 
ly with the remarks of an old f 
from the Brooklyn growin 
He's now a minordengue Mob man 
who chose N B as a profes 
sion when he was id 20s, after 
couple of years nd 
s for a vari t 
involved appropriating other 
people's property by force. As a loan 
shark, he almost па ne а part 
of the Mob's iking system. Just 
as young law school graduates are eager 
to join the most pr 1 firms, 
those in the less acceptable business of 
supplying our illegal needs covet con- 
h the o on. But for 


it’s time 
in catch 
First. a 


the life of me, I don't know why. The 
Mafia soldiers, the lowliest men in the 
pecking order, take the largest risks, 
give most of the profits to their supe 
friend 
me sufliciently 
tual nom de gang to 
idemtity—who pretends to 
n shark but looks like 
bum and lives with his wife and three 
kids in а four-room road flat above 
a grocery store. 


diflerent from his а 
protect 


his 


a geck,” Frankie 
A geek. He doesn't 
have the respect of the other dons or 
even of some of his own family. You 
know why? Because he’s got no finesse, no 
sophistication, He should grow tomatoes 
and get out of the rackets.” 

Like Brando did in the movie 

"Yeah. like in that New York spa- 
Western,” Frankie says. "But (hat 
had respect. because he was 


s right. ` 


why? —! 
you that an important statement is 
coming—"Know why? Because he's a 
bufjone. A real meatball. Digging in the 
dirt like a peasant. What the hell kind 
of don is that? I've heard one of his 
own men laughing about him. This 
said, "Let Gribbs dig in the fuckin’ dirt. 
He's only a siciliano and he never got 
out vf die dirt " (Tramunti was born 


in Naples, not But to some 
younger Mob members, born and raised 
on the streets of New York, anyone 


teristics is Sicil- 
But don't 


showing peasant chai 
The ultimate рші 


n front of a real Sicilian.) 


certain quite deceptive ways, Tra- 
does seem the perfect Sicilian 
peasant. Perhaps, like Puzo's Godfather. 
tending his garden bri ck the joys 
of his childhood in the southern Ita 
hills more than half a century ago. 
munti gets up around 11 every mor 
After breakfast, he puts оп а p 
shorts and sneakers 
his garden. Ev 
ting, you сап see Ci out the: 
watering his lawn, pulling weeds that 
threaten his flowers, spreading peat moss 
at the base of his shrubs, letting. the 
carth blacken his hands and fecling great 
pleasure in the warmth of that soil. 

If he knows that his Mafia associates 
laugh behind his back at his garde 
he doesn’t let it change his habits, Each 
morning, and into the alternoon, he 
cares for his small plot of earth, I've 
seen films of Tramunti working in his 
garden, They were taken from a block 
away with a zoom lens by one of numer 
ous investigators who keep tabs on him. 
Tramonti doesn't look so laughable. 
Peasant? No way. Нез built like a bull, 
and even from a distance а hard quality 
(continued on page 110) 


munt 


Thursday, December 14 


Dearest Harold: 

How very thoughtful ol you! 
fruit исе is marvelous! I've put it 
the bay window behind the couch. on 
the white shag rug. The pot goes per 
fectly with the bricks in the bookcase. 
Ах soon as you're back. we can cuddle 
beneath the leaves and—well, I bet you 


bout the bird. Is it a quail? 
T stuck him in the shower stall. but he 
keeps flapping around, and the shower 
curtain’s been pecked to shreds. The 
thought was lovely. Harald. 
Love you loads. miss you heaps. 
Melissa 
P.S: We've been rehearsing like crazy 
and Sally says we should be able to open 
in a few days It's just a little theater 
group, but next year—Broadway! 


ANDA 
BALD EAGLE 
INA 
PLUM TREE 


in which the twelve days of 
christmas are buried under 
an avalanche of guano 


Friday, December 15 
Harold. you lovable fool: 

I can't wait to find out what you're 
up to! Two more birds arrived today 
—a couple of strung-out pigeons, they 
look like. very fond of cach other. 
You're sweet. 

Also, by mistake, the deliveryman 
brought another plum tree and another 
(or is it a pheasantz) ЕШ call 
Neiman-Marcus tomorrow and straighten 
this out. In the meantime, I've got 
both trees squeezed into the bay and all 
four birds are squawking away in the 
shower. The curtain, the bath mat and 
that terrycloth bathrobe of mine are in 


tatters and the drain's clogged. You silly 
thing, what next? 
Miss you. 


Love, Melissa 
(continued overleaf) 


129 


December 16 


aturday, 
Dear Harold: 

I'm having trouble with 
cus. A computer in their 
partment must have blown a 
transmission or something. Today they 
brought three scrawny chickens—as well 
as another order of everything they 
brought yesterday and the day before! 
Two more pigeons, another quail and 
another peach tree. The deliveryman 
won't take it back. He insists it’s all 
paid for and that the order is correct. I 
tried calling Neiman-Marcus, but I got a 
recorded voice and hung up. 

There's some mistake here and I wish 
you were around to help. As it is now, 
the trees take up half the living room 
and I've had to move the lamps and 
rmchair into the hall closet. The birds 
—all ten of them—are cooped up in the 
bathroom, which I keep shut because 
the three quail (or are they baby tur 
keys?) have begun to swoop around the 
room, looking for a way out. Today J 
went in to clean up the droppings on 
my make-up mirror and the birds flew 
out into the living room and hid in the 
trees. The racket the birds make drives 
me up the wall when I'm reading Solly's 
Script—it's a tender, romantic type of 
story and it takes all the concentra 
can muster. 


Affectionately, 
Melissa 


Sunday, December 17 
Па. 

This is too much! Today they deliv 
cred four of the most foulmouthed par 
rots I've ever encountered (1 think 
they're obscene—one bird called out 
something about nice jugs and Pm 
pretty sure he was talking about те) 
and—can you believe i?—another load 
of everything else. The deliverymen 
wouldn't take anything back, because of 
а noreturn policy on plants and pets. 


con. 
don’sı. 


its own way to Tramuntt. , 
except for two houses not I 
dead-end street that was 
Iways the first to be plowed of snow in 
the winter and scrubbed pure the rest of 
the year by sanitation workers with their 
little handcarts, brooms and shovels. The 
house was mansion. Three 
stories of solid brick, at least 25 rooms, 
expensive canvas awnings at every win- 
dow. a tall, spiked wrought-iron fence 
surrounding a huge plot of ground. It 
the home of Joe Profaci, the Olive 

Oil King. at that time the most. power- 

ful mafioso in the country. And on the 

next street, sharing common back-yarıl 
126 gardens—protection at their backs and 


indeed a 


I've been wanting to get the apartment 
ready for Christmas. but now that Гус 
moved the sofa into the bedroom to 
make room for the fourth mango tree, I 
don't know what to do. There are so 
many birds in the bathroom I'm afraid 
to go in there—at least until I can 
remember how Alfred Hitchcock solved 
his problem. Гуе put the parrot cages in 
the dining room and T no longer bother 
turning on the sound when I watch TV. 
Needless to say, the neighbors аге com- 
plaining about the racket. 

I called Neiman-Marcus again and the 
voice told me to record my message 
when I heard a becp. Well. I was ready 
to leave some message, believe me, but 
then 1 heard the beep and—t froze! Do 
you believe it, Harold? Me. the second 
lead in Our Town, with stage fright 
What's happening ıo me, Harold? 

Yours, 
Melissa 


Monday, December 18 
Dearest Harold: 

This has been absolutely the worst 
day of my life. What is wrong with that 
company? Yesterday I missed the special 
Sunday rehearsal to stay home and tele 
phone them. 1 dialed, and for the first 
time, 1 didn't get a recorded voice. I 
rted to say that 1 had a problem, but 
the cleaning lady at the other end broke 
in and said if | thought Z had a prob 
lem, what about her? We talked about 
her gallstones for a while, but then 
one of those garbage-beaked parrots 
nounced what I should bite and what I 
should sit on, and the cleaning lady 
hung up on me. 

Today Neiman-Marcus struck again! 
Yes, the wedding rings are lovely, and 
yes, I will marry you—though I must say 
you have a strange way of popping the 
question! Frankly, though, I think 
marriage is about the only thing that 
could compensate for what I've been 
through. 

Let me start at the beginning: 1 hard- 
ly slept at all last night because of 
the parrot limericks. At about five this 
morning, I got out of bed to tinkle— 


from the Brooklyn growi 
He's now a 
who chose loan-sharking 
sion when he was in his mid-20s, 
couple of years im reformatories and 
prisons for а variety of ollenses that 
usually involved appropriating other 
people's property by force. As a lo 
shark, he almost naturally became a part 
of the Mob's money-making system. Just 
as young law school graduates are cager 
to join the most prestigious legal firms, 
those in the less acceptable business of 
supplying our illegal needs covet con- 
nections with the organization. But for 


and walked right into the papaya исе. 1 
knocked it over, of course—four bushels 
of dirt on my white shag rug! 

After breakfast, I went out to get 
some birdseed and while 1 was gone, the 
deliverymen from Neiman-Marcus came 
The super must have let them in. Be- 
sides the wedding rings (and 1 do ap 
preciate them), those bastards brought 
another tree and {en more birds (four 
more parrots, three chickens, a pair of 
pigeons and another quail—or is it a 
bantam rooster?). 

Worse, the deliverymen must have 
opened the bathroom door. When 1 
walked into the apartment, there were 
birds and bird muck everywhere. Also 
dirt. Ihe birds had been scratching in 
the tree pots—looking for worms, 1 
gucss. All the furniture is covered with 
droppings. The velvet couch is ruined 
and the TV set looks like a wedding 
cake. The whole apartment smells like 
the back entrance of a zoo, there are 
feathers everywhere and the neighbors 
have complained to the super about a 
group of filthy-mouthed sailors they claim 
are carousing around here. I finally lured 
the birds back into the bathroom by 
filling the tub with birdseed and whis- 
tling through my front teeth. (Solly says 
my teeth make my smile distinctive and 
that ГЇЇ wow ‘em on Broadway!) 

Please hurry back—I really need you. 

Love, 

Melissa 
P.S. Don't you think five rings are a 
bit much? Also, I hate to say this, but 
they're all too large for my fingers (and 
toes, for that matter) and too small for 
my wri What do they fit, Harold? 
P. P. S. Sollys invited me to the country 
lor a day or two to go over some weak 
points in the play s strictly kosher, 
Harold: His mother will be there—and 
I must admit I could use the rest. I've 
asked Susan, my girlfriend next door, 
not to accept anything from Neiman 
Marcus—unless it's something small, of 
course. 


Wednesday, December 20 

Dear Harold: 
I'm going to go absolutely bonkers if 
this doesn’t stop. 1 mean it. Гус just 
finished half a (continued on page 262) 


мге. 
If he knows . 
laugh behind his be 
he doesn’t let it change 
morning, and into the . 
cares for his small plot of 
seen films of Tramunti worl 
garden. They were taken 
away with a zoom lens by one of n 
ous investigators who keep 
Tramunti doesn't look so laug 
Peasant? No way. He's built like a 
and even from a distance a hard qu: 
(continued on page 


om а 


mr 


hero sandwiches. But don't confuse these 
mammoths with your ordinary hero, 
hoagie, sub, zep, po' boy, torpedo or that 
genre. They're inspired superheroes, 
loaded with succulent victuals, generous- 
ly bathed in olive oil and red-wine vine- 
gar or sauce, pungent with aromatic 
spices and condiments; a challenge to 
the most heroic appetite. 

One of our offerings, the Jimmy Jun- 
ior, is a scaled-down version of the 
famous six-footer sold at Jimmy Dell'- 
Orto's Hero-Boy restaurant in Manhat- 
tan—a king-sized sandwich that contains 
15 pounds of prosciutto, provolone, mor- 
tadella, pimiento, salami, capocollo, etc. 
It’s really no big deal to create one of 
these monsters at home, if you can ca- 
jole a local boulanger into baking you a 
six foot loaf of bread. Otherwise, get 
the longest loaf of ch or kalian 
bread available. (IE you have to have a 
six-footer, Dell'Orto's will airfreight its 
sandwich for $89.50, plus tax and ship- 
ping charges. "Telephone: 212-947-7325.) 

For full visual effect, present your 
heroes whole. Guests can then serve 
themselves, taking what they want when- 
ever the spirit moves them. (A serrated 
bread knife will cut the most imposing 
hero down to size.) Allow about a foot 
per guest, with a generous margin for 
gluttonous error. 

Obviously, your guests won't be arriv- 
ing at the same hour. So don't fight it. 
Accommodate the convivial coming and 
going with a smorgasbord of help your 
self hors d'oeuvres and appetizers color- 
keyed to the season: an avocado tree 
decorated with edible ornaments, such 
аз cocktail frankfurters, red and green 
cherry peppers or cubes of ham impaled 
on colorful toothpicks; pepper cups filled 
with your favorite dips; button mush- 
rooms topped with red caviar; balls of 
Edam cheese in their red-wax shells; 
hamand-asparagus ог  smokedsalmon 
roll-ups and a heaping platter of raw 
vegetables—among them Pascal celery, 
fennel, radishes, cherry tomatoes and 
pimiento-stuffed. olives. 

You won't need any other table dec- 
orations beyond this festive array of 
goodies, but if you can't resist. creative 
impulse, try your hand at a yule ar- 
rangement of scallions or а stylized 
green.asparagus tree with pimiento and 
cranberry omaments, Otherwise, an as- 
sortment of red and green fruits and 
vegetables in a bowl—pomegranates, rad- 
ishes, limes, cucumbers, peppers, apples, 
etc—makes a colorful centerpiece. 

The following buffet will take care of 
both early comers and stragglers quite 
handily, providing sufficient sustenance 
for the hungry until it’s time to unleash 
your heroes, Of course, some of your 
guests will wish to obtain their liquid 
refreshment from your well-stocked bar; 
but for the others, we suggest you set 
132 out several carafes of California red and 


PLAYBOY 


white wines, along with club soda for 
spritzers. 

Later, after your entrees have received 
a hero's welcome and your guests are 
comfortably settled by the fire, unveil a 
trio of easy-to-prepare desserts that range 
from traditional to contemporary: Tipsy 
Parson cake, Plum Pudding Flambé and 
Strawberry Slosh. 

That's the grand strategy attractive, 
enticing fare simply presented in three 
stages. It's more an assembling than 
a cooking job, but no one will notice 
or care, for that matter. "Tis the sea- 
son to be jolly, so the fewer culinary 
hassles you have to contend with, the 
merrier your holiday will be. Here’s how 
to get your yule fete together. 


HORS D'OEUVRE AND APPETIZER BUFFET 


Tree of Hors d'Ocuvres 
Red and Green Pepper-Cup Dips 
Red Caviar Mushrooms 
Guacamole Dip and Corn Chips 
Balls of Edam in Red Shell 
Ham-and-Asporagus Roll-ups 
Raw Vegetable Nibbles 
Pepitas and Pistachios 


JIMMY JUNIOR 

Bread 

Prosciutto 

Lettuce 

‘Tomatoes 

Olive oil 

Red-wine vinegar 

Oregano 

Cooked salami 

Swiss cheese 

Ham 

Mortadella 

Genoa salami 

Provolone 

Pimiento 

Capocollo 

Slice bread in half lengthwise. Layer 
bottom half with prosciutto, coarsely 
chopped or torn lettuce and sliced toma- 
toes. Sprinkle lightly with oil, vinegar 
and dried oregano. Continue spreading 
layers of cooked salami, Swiss cheese, 
ham, mortadella, Genoa salami, provo- 
lone and pimiento. Bathe again with oil 
and vinegar and a few pinches of orega- 
no. Cap with capocollo and top half of 
bread. The trick is to add just enough oil 
and vinegar to lubricate but not drown 
the sandwich. Salt and pepper are not re- 
quired, because the meats are well 
spiced. Pierce hero with skewers to keep 
everything neat. Alternate red and green 
cherry peppers on skewers for garnish. 


KRIS KRINGLE 

Bread 

Jar marinara sauce 

Garlic 

Oregano 

Basil 

Parsley 

Green peppers and onions, sliced 

Sweet Halian sausages—plain, cheese 
or fennel 


Some of the commercial spaghetti 
sauces have improved considerably and 
will do nicely if you zip them up. Warm 
the marinara sauce (Ronzoni or Bui 
toni) with pressed garlic or garlic powder, 
dried oregano and basil and chopped 
е, sauté sliced 
ns in olive oil 
just until peppers soften. Salt lightly. 
Place sausages in large pan, add water 
to half cover sausages. Cook, covered, 
for 15 minutes. Remove cover and let 
water cook out. Drain fat. Brown sau- 
sages on all sides. Slice bread lengthwise 
almost all the way through, forming a 
sort of pocket. Spread both sides of 
bread with tomato sauce. Lay on sau- 
sages, top with sautéed peppers and 
onions and a little more sauce. Close 
bread and fix in place with skewers. 
Serve with a bowl of sauce, kept warm 
on an electric hot tray, for those who 
want extra. 


DECK THE HALLS 

Veal scallops, cut from leg, 

Seasoned flour 

Mozzarella, sliced 

Parmesan, grated 

Bread 

Caponata 

"Tomato sauce, optional 

Have veal sliced thin and pounded 
by butcher. Dip lightly in seasoned flour 
and fry quickly until just golden. Be 
careful: overcooking toughens veal. Re- 
move scallops and place half on a bak 
ing sheet. Cover with fairly thin slices of 
mozzarella and a little grated parmesan, 
then top with remaining half of veal. 
Place in preheated 400° oven for several 
minutes, or until cheese starts to melt 
e hero bread lengthwise almost all the 
way through. Spread bottom layer with 
caponata and add veal.cheese pieces. You 
can sprinkle lightly with lemon juice 
and chopped parsley if you like, or a 
little of the tomato sauce. Guests can 
help themselves to more sauce from a 
bowl on the table. Secure sandwich with 
skewers. Top skewers with small whole 
cocktail beets and — pimiento-stuffed 
queen olives, or garnish plate with pars- 
Icy sprigs and cherry tomatoes. 


GOD REST YE MERRY, GENTLEMEN 
Bread 
Crenberrychumey relish (recipe on 
page 259) 
Sliced turkey breast 
Sliced aged Swiss cheese 
Sliced marinated mushrooms 
ect Spanish or Bermuda onion, thin- 
ly sliced 
Sliced cooked Canadian bacon 
Dijon mustard-mayonnaise dressing 
Slice bread in half lengthwise, Spread 
bottom half with cranberry-chutney rel- 
ish. Layer gencrously with slices of turkey 
and cheese. Next lay on the mushroom 
(concluded on page 259) 


WOMAN 
erernal 


painted especially 
Sor playboy, 
martin hoffman’s 
lyrical portraits 
evoke the timeless 
beauty of the 
female nude 


"All these girls embody 
classical ideals. But the 
porcelainlike figure above 
with her delicate hands and 
feet shows what I love mast in 


women--their ethereal quality.” 
MARTIN HOFFMAN 


“PAINTING female nudes is a very natural thing for a 
guy to do," says former Miamian Martin Holfm: 


shown above in his new Manhattan studio with a huge 
Flying Tiger self-portrait. "I love their pure classical form, 
but T also try to make mine physical, to create a liv- 
ing presence on canvas with paint that picks up light 
like skin. So I use the traditional method of under- 
and overpainting: it’s the simplest way to say the most 
with the least. What my portraits say, though, is hard 
to pin down. But to me they're like time machines, 
moving back and forth from antiquity to the present 
—and beyond. They're caught somewhere in between." 


"In many of my werk, I hope 
10 convey motion, os in the 
portrait of the girl exercising 
with her legs in the cir. 
Personally, | find that o 

very provocative painting.” 


"То me, the painting of the 
black gitl at right is very 
straight on, with no coyness, 
no shame, no level of complex 
meaning. But then, 1 dont 
intend to express anything pro- 
found in my nudes; the viewer 
should feel that he can 
interpret them as he likes.” 


in his eyes and a certain bearing mark 
him as a man who has made it in a world 
where the odds are against him, 

When Tramunti's had enough of gar- 
dening, when he's certain he's done all 
he can to protect his lawn and shrubs, 
he retreats inside his house. His wife, 
Lillian, has lunch waiting for him. It's 
the sort of meal most of us would asso- 
ciate with dinner. Pasta, a meat course 
favorite is spring lamb—and plen- 
ty of bread and wine. Topped off with 
espresso laced with anisette. Then a 
nap, resting up for the hectic business 
day. Late in the afternoon, when most 
businessmen are cleaning things up and 
getting ready to break for the 5:07 to 
the suburbs, Tramunti comes out his 
front door and heads for his Cadillac. 
‘The Sicilian-peasant image has van 
ished. He's wearing a relatively consery- 
е $300 suit, so perfectly tailored that 

it slims down his beefiness, He looks like 
a garment-center executive who refuses 
to go Mod. But on each hand is a 
diamond pinkie ring, symbols of his role 
in life. His hands are manicured, his 
dark wavy hair grows only slightly long 
in the back and has a hint of a Forties 
pompadour. “Subject,” says an investiga- 
tor's report, a steady client at Dawn 
Patrol barbershop, spending $25 to $35 
a night for manicure, shave, hair trim.” 
Tramunti pulls away from the curb, 
driving his Cadillac himself, with no 
sign of a bodyguard. At least one car 
usually follows him, sometimes several 
cars, each filled with youngish clean-cut 
men in dark suits. They are employees of 
whatever Federal or local law-enforce- 
ment agency happens to be watching him; 
the perils of becoming a Mafia aris 
crat include a complete loss of. privacy. 
He seems almost to enjoy the at- 
tention. It shows he has arrived. "Be- 
sides," says one sleuth who has spent 
much time stalking this Godfather, "'no- 
body's gonna shoot at him with Federal 
agents or D.A/s men 50 feet away." 
Behind Tramunti's gruff and hoody ex- 
terior and his frequent public displays 
of viciousness, there is a sense of humor. 
One afternoon he came out his front 
door as usual, but instead of getting 
into his car, he walked down the street 
to a car with two Government men who'd 
been assigned to him. Tramunti leaned 
over 10 the driver and said, “Listen, I'm 
tired of using the Triborough Bridge. 
Gonna go over the Whitestone and 
through the Bronx for a change. You 
don't mind, do you?" The startled agent 
assured Tramunti he n't mind the 
change of route at all and the procession 
be; on schedule. Another rare flash of 
humor, somewhat blacker: Tramunti was 
convicted in September 1969 of con- 
140 tempt of court for refusing to answer 


PLAYBOY 


heal of the family (continued from page 126) 


a grand jury's questions and was sen- 
тепсей to a year in the pen that Novem- 
ber. Bronx district attorney Burton 
Roberts ordered "Tramunti 10 surrender 
for imprisonment a week or so before 
Christmas, and Tramunti showed up in 
the D. A/s office with his attorney to 
plead for more time. His mouthpiece 
began to complain: “It's a rotten thing, 
putting him away just before Christmas. 
His family is crying abou 

The D.A. asked Tramuni 
true your family would cry even if you 
surrendered after Christmas?” 

In his sandpaper voice, Tramunti re- 
plied, “They always cry.” 

Tramunti's first stop is the East Har 
lem area where he grew up. An uptown 
Little Italy, it is still his family strong- 
hold, although the » community 
has shrunk to a few dozen blocks as 
Spanish-speaking immigrants press in all 
around. Until fairly recently, his East 
Harlem business was usually conducted 
in the back of a pet shop at Second 
Avenue and 112th Street. The shop is 
owned by Big Sam Cavalieri, а child- 


family underboss, second in command. 
Unfortunately, someone tosed a bomb 
imo the shop in the middle of the 
night some time back and Sam is now in 
the process of rebuilding it. In the inter- 
im, Tramunti conducts his uptown busi- 
ness a few blocks from Sam's place in a 
florist shop he once owned. (“I just sold 
flowers, and there was a designer there,” 
‘Tramunti said of his florist business at a 
December 1971 trial in which he was ac- 
cused of a massive stock-fraud conspiracy. 
"I pur sticks on roses and rolled them 
and everything like that to make flowers 
look good." No one asked him if he'd 
ever heard of Dion O'Banion, who was 
gunned down in his flower shop in Chi- 
capo by some of Capone's boys.) 

Big Sam gocs through a lot of strange 
little gyrations to impress Tramunti— 
he is the Godfather, after all—bowing 
and scraping and practically kissing h 
feet. The little monkey show is repeated 
by Vinny Rao, the family consigliere, or 
counselor, and by the bodyguards hang- 
ing around. And then down to business: 
consulting with Sam and Vinny on the 
day's events and picking up some of the 
loot that flows in—just $1000 or $2000 
spending money—from the family's gam- 
bling ventures, “Tramunti’s income is 
said to be enormous, a word often used 
16 describe the wealth of any Godfather. 
Through his caporegime and his soldati, 
"Iramunti controls а good slice of all the 
gambling from Central Park North to 
the upper reaches of suburban West 
chester—his family’s allotted territory. 
‘That includes all the bookmaking and 
most of the numbers action: Italian 
action (which means white), Harlem 


action (which means black) and Latin 
action (which is Puerto Rican and Cu 
ban) The Tramunti family runs the 
Italian action, and bank-rolls the two 
others for a large share of the take. By 
all accounts, from both inside and out- 
side the Mob, the dividends from such in. 
vestments come to a substantial fortune. 

Mrs. Vito Ge 
that. Back in 19 the Lady Genovese 
decided that life with her husband, Don 
Vitone, the Mafia capo di tutti i capi, 
boss of all bosses, was a little too hectic. 
She complained to anyone who'd listen 
that Don Vitone carried his Godfather 
nonsense home, treating her like one of 
his serfs. “He beats me if I don't cook 
his dinner right,” she told one friend in 
a phone conversation that was tapped. 
She asked for a separation and $350 a 
week support. Don Vitone wouldn't go 
along. The domestic battle ended up in 
court, where the Lady Genovese talked 
about her husband's interests in narcot- 
ic, liquor, extortion, night clubs and 
race tracks. And, she added, “1 personal- 
ly handled $20,000 or $30,000 a week 
from the Italian lottery he owns in New 
York. 1 know how much he made from 
it because ] ran it myself.” The Italian 
lottery, now said to be owned by Tra- 
munti, is only one form of policy in the 
city. And it is far from being the biggest 
money-maker. Yet, according to his 
wife's testimony, Don Vitone got well 
over $1,000,000 a year out of it. 

If Tramunti is knocking down thar 
kind of income, as most law-enforcement 
people believe and their informers veri- 
fy. nobody knows what's happening to 
it. Perhaps it’s being funneled into sc 
cret bank accounts. But what good is all 
that bread hidden away? Tramunti 
lives like any $20,000-a-ycar garment 
center executive, which is what he 
daims he's become since leaving the 
florist business. If he's stashing it away 
in Swiss numbered accounts,or giving it 
to cops and politicians for immunity, 
what's the percentage? Twenty grand a 
year against the constant possibility of a 
bullet in the skull? J. 1 Getty lives 
in a casde. Howard Hughes owns half 
of Nevada and a quarter of the Carib: 
bean. Tramunti? A cottage in Queens, 
a month in Miami every winter, a 
Cadillac. 

But at least there are some trap 
of royalty, even if his realm is rather 
d his life style restricted by tax 
agents who would pounce on him if he 
tried to live too lavishly. The don is 
treated with more reverence than her 
subjects give to Queen Elizabeth. I w 
nessed that reverential treatment once, 
during an earlier Mafia-hunting assign. 
ment. Tramunti had just been officially 
designated boss of his family by the 
other dons in the nation who make up a 
sort of Supreme Court that meets to 

(continued on page 302) 


sma 


“I went to the most darling gift 
counselor—she suggested husband swapping!” 


141 


ted Dick He 


cAn Affair of “Honor 


In which Our Hero is called upon 
to exhibit his manhood and does 
so courageously, to the gratifica- 
tion of new friends and the heart- 
felt approbation of fellow citizens. 


ood morning, Mr. Feldhausen, sir!” 

sang out Chauncey Alcock, for it 
was indeed he. “The high cirro-cumu- 
lar clouds and a strong breeze, north- 
east by east, augur well for a pleasant, 
albeit somewhat brisk day.” 

“Ach [Oh], Chaunce,” rejoined the 
dour (but goodhearted) Dutchman, 
proprictor of Feldhausen's Drugstore 
on the corner of Columbus Avenue and 
74th Street in the city of New York. 
“I had forgodden it iz Zaturday al- 
ready.” 

“It is, indeed,” the handsome lad 
beamed. “There is no school today; 
hence, I will be able to work a full four- 
teen hours—with the customary fifteen 
minutes off for lunch. Ergo, I shall be 
enabled to contribute more to the well- 
being and creature comforts of my 
dear mother, who, as you are undoubt- 
edly aware, suffers from a dropsical 
condition of her left foot, causing her 
untold pain and discomfort.” 

“You are a goot boy, Chaunce,” the 
merchant nodded. 

“I merely do my duty,” the stalwart 
youth murmured, casting his cycs mod- 
estly downward. 

And with that, Our Hero set to his 
labors with a right good will, first 
sweeping the floor of the emporium 
and then hosing refuse from the side- 
walk in front. He whistled as he 
worked, in high good spirits, for that 
very morning he had received a missive 


that brought a smile of pride to his 
regular features. 

The Sanitation Department of New 
York City had sponsored a contest, 
asking for a new title for the position 
of garbage collector. The first prize 
was an all-expenses-paid tour of the 
garbage dumps in the Greater New 
York Area, and there were several sub- 
sidiary prizes. Young Master Alcock did 
not win first prize, which went to the 
title “environmental engineer." Chaun- 
cey's suggestion was “‘litterary agent,” 
for which he was awarded honorable 
mention. In addition, he and his dear 
mother would receive one additional 
garbage pickup during the coming year, 
so the lad had a right to feel proud. 

Mr. Feldhausen, watching the youth 
as he worked busily dusting a display 
of bedpans, took note of the lad's 
cheerful demeanor and inquired as to 
its cause. Chauncey thereupon related 
the details of his honorable-mention 
award, as stated above, and was con- 
gratulated by both his employer and 
Miss Beebee Undershot, a sigmoidal 
young lady who clerked in the cos- 
metics department. The third employee 
of the store, the pharmacist, Mr. Irving 
Benoit-Dreissen, turned away with a 
spiteful look on his sharp features, for 
he was envious of Chauncey’s comely 
appearance and sunny good nature. 

“Goot for you, Chaunce," Mr. Feld- 
hausen chuckled. “A head on your 
zhoulders you got. And that ain’t all 
you got!” 

Mr. Feldhausen's veiled reference — 
and another cause for the pharmacist’s 
resentment—is already known to read- 
ers familiar with Chauncey Alcock’s 
past activities, but it is detailed here 
for the benefit of readers who may 
be encountering the adventures of Our 
Hero for the first time. 

During a completely accidental en- 
counter in (continued on page 152) 


Fiction By LAWRENCE SANDERS 


143 


the craven coward in me 
said no, but the journalist 
in me said yes, yes, yes! 


DESIGNED ву GORDON MORTENSEN 
PHOTOGRAPHED BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


FEW MONTHS лсо, I was having dinner 

with my рглүвоү editor in a Chinese 

restaurant in Chicago, and midway 
between my Beef and Snow Peas Thousand 
Fragrance and my Hot and Sour Sherbet, he 
matter-of-factly slipped me the information 
that the guys at the mag had come up with 
what they thought was a rather amusing as- 
signment for me: Basically, how would I feel 
about going to a sex orgy and writing what 
it felt like? 

“What do you mean,” I said, “just go and 
observe and sort of take notes, or what?” 

“Well, we were thinking really more along 
the lines of your actually taking part in one,” 
he said. 

My chopsticks suddenly became too heavy 
to hold and I lowered them carefully to the 
table. I should tell you at this point that I 
am so shy with women that it took me till 
the age of 23 to lose my virginity, till 30 to 
get married, and today, at 36, I am still un- 
able to ро to an ordinary cocktail party and 
chitchat with folks like any regular grown- 
up person. The idea of sending old Green- 
burg to take part in an orgy was, frankly, 
tantamount to sending someone with ad- 
vanced vertigo to do a tap dance on the wing 
of an airborne 747. 

True, I had recently done an article on 
New York fire fighters and in my research had 
managed to overcome a deep phobia of fire 
by spending five months riding on fire trucks 
and racing into burning buildings with fire- 
men—yet somehow that seemed tame by com- 
parison with what I was now being asked to 
do. After all, the worst that could have hap- 
pened to me in a burning building was that 
а flaming ceiling might have collapsed on me 
and crushed me to death. At an orgy, there 
was the distinct possibility that I might be 
seriously laughed at. 

“How about if I just go to an orgy and 
take notes?” I said. 

My editor shrugged. “Don't you think 
that'd be sort of a cop-out, journalistically?” 
he said. 

“I suppose you're right,” I sai 
me a few days to think it over.” 

“They want you to do what?” said my wi 

“Go to an orgy and kind of take part, 
Т said. 

“How about if you just go and take notes?” 
she said. 

"Don't you think that'd be sort of a cop- 
out, journalistically?" I said. 

“No,” she said, “I don’t.” 

“Oh,” I said. 


. "Look, give 


Several days later, having mulled over all 
facets of the situation, having pondered the 
feats of Sir Edmund Hillary, Sir Francis 
Chichester, Ernie Pyle, Robert Capa, Thor 
Heyerdahl and others, having decided that, 
my experiences with fire fighters notwith- 
standing, I had led а comparatively bland life 
and that only through the continual meeting 
of challenges and overcoming of fears was 
I going to attain any growth as a writer 
and, mainly, having learned from my agent 
the exact sum I was being offered for this 


147 


PLAYBOY 


148 


particular adventure, I was at length 
able to dispel most of my own doubts 
and a few of my wile's and I called my 
editor and accepted the assignment. 

The first person I contacted was an 
unattractive middle-aged lady in New 
York who is legendary for throwing the 
biggest orgies in town. I introduced my- 
self to her on the phone, gave the name 
of a good mutual friend as a reference 
and asked if I might see her to discuss 
in a sort of general way the broad 
spectrum of the group-sex experience. 

“I don't know why so many people 
call me and ask me about this subject,” 
she said. “Just because I once gave an 
interview to some magazine in which I 
expressed a few opinions on group sex, 
suddenly I’m supposed to be some kind 
of expert on orgies. 1 really don’t under- 
stand it. You probably thought I could 
get you invited to an orgy, didn't you?" 

"Well... 

“Well, I can't. I don't have any con- 
tacts in that area at all and I 
never did. Besides, I don't know a thing 
about you. 

I offered to send her a copy of my 
recent book, Scoring: A Sexual Memoir. 
І said that reading it would tell her 
more about me than she might even 
wish to know. She said I was certainly 
welcome to send her the book, but she 
still didn't have any contacts in the 
group cex circuit and didn't see how she 
could possibly be of any help to me. 
"Then, just as she'd almost persuaded me 
that the several hundred stories I'd 
heard about her were complete fabrica- 
tion, she asked rather ofthandedly: "Tell 
me, is there a photo of you on the dust 
jacket, dear?” 


"The lady never did grant me an inter- 
view, but I was just about to leave for 
Los Angeles, where, I was assured, the 
orgy scene was definitely more in the 
open. A writer on the Coast, who had 
himself done a piece about swingers, 
promised to provide me with not only 
several bona fide orgy contacts but also 
a young lady who would willingly ac- 
company me to whatever far.out type of 
get-together I could get invited to. 

“A thing you might start off with 
when you get here is one of the group- 
grope places, which they have а lot of 
i LA TI they're supposed to raise your 
consciousness, heighten your sensitivity 
toward your fellow human being, put 
you in touch with your feelings and 
stuff, but they're really mostly an excuse 
for a lot of people to get together and 
take off their clothes and screw." 

I said that sort of deviousness had a 
certain comforting appeal. I flew to L.A. 

It is three minutes after I have 
checked into the Beverly Hills Hotel. I 
have given the bellhop what I consider 


to be a fairly generous tip. He stares at it 
as though I have just deposited several 
rabbit turds in his palm and stalks out 
of the room. I am now on the phone 
with the writer, thirsting for names of 
group-grope places, bona fide orgy con- 
tacts and the identity of the wanton 
woman who has offered to be my consort. 

He gives me the name of the wanton 
woman and I burst out laughing, be 
cause it is a dear Platonic friend of mine 
from years back whom ГЇ call Linda 
Leeman, who is also a writer and who 
is about as wanton a woman as, say, 
Princess Margaret. 

1 ask for the names of the group-grope 
places. Actually, says my writer friend. 
now that he thinks about it, the group- 
grope places are not such a good idea 
for me after all. Another writer he knows 
is doing a major piece about changing 
life styles, and group-grope places figure 
prominently in it. I am better off simply 
going to a normal no-nonsense orgy, 
he says. 

I try to hide my disappointment at 
missing out on the lessthreatening 
group-grope places and ask him for my 
normal no-nonsense orgy contacts. This, 
too, proves to be something of a disap- 
pointment. 

“The main guy I wanted to put you 
in touch with is a guy named Mandell, 
who is, in fact, writing a book about 
orgies. But it turns out that Mandell is 
somewhat miffed that they've asked you 
and not him to do this article. He sort 
of considers L.A. orgies his turf. The 
other thing is, he claims his contacts 
aren't that fresh anymore. He used to be 
very into the orgy thing, but no longer. 
He says he's settled down to a fairly 
meaningful relationship with two chicks 
he really digs. 1 do have one other 
contact for you, though. A guy named 
Artie throws orgies at his place every 
Saturday night. Call him up and tell 
him you're a close friend of Mandell's." 

I call Artie and tell him what a great 
friend I am of Mandell’s and ask him 
whether it's OK to attend his orgy this 
Saturday. Artie is polite but evasive. He 
says he may be having an orgy this 
Saturday, and then again he may not. 
“It all depends on where my head is at," 
he says. 

“Where do you think your head may 
be at?” I ask. "I mean. the thing is, I 
hate to be crass about it, but I do want 
to get to an orgy on Saturday, and if 
you're not having one. I'd like to find 
someone who is. 

Artie says to call him about five 
o'dock on Saturday, by which time he 
will definitely know where his head is at. 


It is Saturday about five o'clock. It 
doesn’t matter where Artie's head is at, 
bec: my friend. Linda has donc some 
checking around and heard that Artie's 
parties are fairly well known among 


media people and, although she is will- 
ing neither to partake of the sexual 
activities nor even to take off her 
clothes, she fears meeting somebody she 
knows there. Instead, she has come up 
with what she considers a much better 
orgy. This one is deep in the San Fer- 
nando Valley and is not apt to contain 
any people she knows. She already has 
the driving directions and the password 
and the information that the address we 
seek is a private home with Christmas- 
tree lights strung outside. Since it is the 
beginning of July, I figure the house 
should be fairly easy to spot. I tell 
Linda I will pick her up in about two 
hours. She seems very nervous. Her nerv- 
ousness somewhat allays my own. Then 
I learn that her nervousness stems mainly 
from such decisions as what to wear, and 
I realize that our respective nervousnesses 
are not even in the same ball park. 

I take a leisurely shower, then spend 
time applying aftershave lotion to 
places it has never before occurred to 
me to apply it. I grow perceptibly more 
nervous. I grow so nervous that I begin 
to have contempt for Linda's nervous- 
ness. After all, what does she have to be 
nervous about? She's already decided 
she will neither have sex nor take off her 
dothes. I, on the other hand, am more 
or less philosophically committed to both. 

What if my body, slim and trendy by 
New York standards, is thought to be 
skinny and slug-white by well-muscled, 
sun-bronzed Angelenos? What if my 
dork, regulation-size by New York locker- 
room standards, is dwarfed by acro- 
batic hyperactive Valley orgiasts? What 
if Im unable to keep it up or even get 
it up into a polite state of erection? 
What if—the thought now strikes me as 
my nervousness creeps over the line into 
panic and nausea—what if I get really 
sick and puke my guts out all over 
everybody at the orgy? What if, God 
forbid, I contract a venereal disease— 
not the syph or the clap but the new 
kind we've learned about from terrific 
Dr. David Reuben that you don't even 
know you have until about 12 years 
later, when suddenly your brain turns to 
zabaglione and your dork into an oca 
ma and the virus that causes it not only 
doesn't respond to antibiotics but 
thrives on them? 

I take a flask of vodka out of my 
suitcase and gulp down half of it. It has 
no apparent effect. I go into the bath 
тоот and take another shower. Why am 
1 taking a second shower? To wash off 
future dirt? 

Т must snap out of this. 1 must pull 
myself together. ] must do this for the 
sake of my editor—my sad ously 
deranged cditor—who is counting on 
me and my professionalism to complete 
this assignment, 

I polish off the rest of the vodka in the 

(continued on page 250) 


SOMETIMES MANKIND reminds me of 
a creature that has taken a billion 
years to climb a million-mile-high 
diff. And here he is, putting his 
arm up over the edge and almost 
making it Then, at the last mo- 
ment, he leaps up, tromps upon 
his own fingers—and plunges 
screaming back into the abyss 

If you think I’m speechify 
ing about ecology, you're wrong. 
Nor am I talking about cities, 
civil rights or any of the other 
cliché causes of our time. I'm talk- 
ing about space travel. I speak of 
rocket (continued on page 322) 


| 


FROM 
STONEHENGE 
TO 


TRANQUILLITY 
BASE 


== man has a chotce—he сап probe 
ever deeper into space or sink 
back into the primordial ooze 


essay 
By RAY BRADBURY 


1 


A 


missives and missiles 
Jor the jolly season 


verse by 


TO AN 
EX-SINGLES BAR 
AFICIONADO 


You swung with multitudes of chicks, 
From one bar to another, 
Till, dreadful night, in dark saloon, 
You tried to date your mother. 


TO A POLITICAL 
CANDIDATE 


TG GUA 
oTOGCABRGAER 


With bearish fears our dreams were full 
And yet you lured us on with bull. 
You spoke with great lucidity 
Of corporate liquidity. 

While friends were buying cabin cruisers, 
You went on deftly picking losers. 

So now our bells of Xmas chime 
To “Brother, сап you spare a dime?”! 


“MASSEUSE” 


Here's your gift list, Arch, old boy, 
We really hope you dig it. 
We've done some careful shopping for 
The country's fav'rite bigot: 

А tree in Haifa in your name, 

A membership in CORE, 

A dozen Puerto Ricans 
Who'll move tight in next door. 

A pound of Acapulco gold— 
Your most beloved smoke, 

A weekend with a radical, 

An obscene Nixon joke. 

Now, please don't thank us, Archie, chum, 
For all the nifty stuff— 

We know we'll never really get 
Your Christmas white enough. 


PLAYBOY 


152 


CHAUNCEY ALCOCK (continued from page 193) 


the store’s lavatory, Mr. Feldhausen had 
become aware that his delivery boy was 
blessed with a Staff of Life of such noble 
dimensions as scarcely to be believed. 
This magnificent cudgel, of almost equine 
proportions, had elicited expressions of 
incredulity and wonderment from the 
good Dutchman, and he had been unable 
to keep to himself his knowledge of Mas 
ter Alcock’s unique gilt. 

In an engrossing conversation with 
Benoit-Dreissen on the mating habits of 
pterodactyls, the worthy merchant had 
inadvertently let slip the delivery boy's 
secret, Now, the pharmacist was a man of 
depraved habits. for not only did he bite 
his fingernails but he parted his hair in 
the middle, Thinking to make Chauncey 
а figure of scorn in the eyes of Miss Bee- 
bee Undershot, whose sympathetic in- 
terest in Chauncey he had frequently 
observed and whose person he himself 
coveted for vulgar reasons that have no 
place in this narrative, the apothecary 
related to her the facts he had been told 
of the outstanding feature of Chauncey's 
manly physique. 

But little did the villain ken the na- 
ture of the flexuous young woman to 
whom he relayed this indiscreet gossip, 
for Miss Undershot was possessed of 
active intellectual curiosity and frequent- 
ly read the obituary page of The New 
York Times entirety, greatly profit- 
ing thereby. Rather than being amused 
or offended by the pharmacist's sneering 
report, as he had hoped, the brave girl 
felt a need to investigate this scientific 
phenomenon personally, seeking to add 
to her knowledge of the world about her. 
Her opportunity arrived sooner than ex- 
pected—the very day of which we speak. 

‘That afternoon, when the absence of 
customers warranted it, Mr. Feldhausen 
sent Miss Undershot and Chauncey into 
the back storeroom to begin an inventory 
of the cosmetic stock. In this confined 
space, closed off from the selling area by 
a curtain of burlap, the young lady and 
the delivery boy were, perforce, in close 
physical juxtaposition, and the nubile 
cosmetician deemed the time auspicious 
to determine the veracity of Benoit- 
Dreissen's report. 

Chauncey Alcock was counting the 
number of cans of Peel, a feminine- 
hygiene deodorant spray, banana flavored, 
frequently advertised on network TV 
with the catchy slogan "Come on down!" 
Miss Beebee Undershot brushed against 
him, as if by accident, and her brown 
eyes widened in astonishment. Facing 
Chauncey directly, she took the startled 
delivery boy by the arms and pressed 
closer, her body trembling. 

Miss Beebee,” the youth inquired 


anxiously, “are you ill? Made faint, per- 
haps, by the close confines of this cul- 
desa” 


“Oh, Chauncey,” she moaned, pressing 
even closer against his loins, “I could 
teach you so much.” 

"Splendid!" the eager lad cried. "For 
1 have long believed that education is the 
cornerstone of character, and learning 
the road to a happier, more fruitful life.” 

But Miss Undershor's investigation was 
fated to come to nought, for suddenly the 
curtain was thrust roughly aside and the 
dark, twisted features of the evil pharma- 
cist glowered at the embracing couple. 

“Alcock.” Benoit-Dreissen spoke sharp- 
ly, "there is a delivery that must be 
made at once.” 

“Aye-aye, sir,’ the youth laughed 
merrily, adopting nautical argot for the 
nonce, as "Aye-aye, sir” is the reply by 
which sailors acknowledge the order of 
a superior officer—a titbit of information 
that may, in future, serve the reader well. 

Thinking no more of the incident, 
and hardly hearing the rising sound of 
rancorous debate in the storeroom he 
had just vacated, Chauncey Alcock took 
the package from the prescription count- 
er, went outside, vaulted onto his trusty 
velocipede and went pedaling off to West 
70th Street, his golden curls tossing in 
the breeze. 

The name on the package was Lady 
Angela Cockburn, and the address 
proved to be a gray-stone town house 
of imposing dimensions Wheeling his 
to the service entrance, ict 
forbearing to chain it to the iron railing, 
lest such an act be construed as rust 
of the honesty of his fellow citizens, 
Chauncey Alcock mounted the back 
stairs to the third-floor apartment that 
bore, neatly framed on the oaken door, 
an engraved visiting card that stated 
with elegant simplicity: LORD AND LADY 
COCKBURN. 

From within this imposing portal came 
the sounds of loud music in a tempo 
Chauncey could not identify. He pressed 
the brass bell several times, to no 
Finally, he rapped on the wood with his 
sturdy knuckles and soon was rewarded 
by a diminution in the volume of sound. 
‘There was a click of approaching heels, 
and then the door was flung wide. 

The woman standing there was as tall 
as the Alcock boy himself but of a some- 
what different shape. She was clad in a 
brightred, form-fitting housecoat with 
long sleeves and a high, ndarin neck. 
‘The skirt was slit in front, up to a point 
just within the limit approved by judicial 
edict. From there to the neck, the gown 
was closed by a wide zipper, operated by 
a large brass ring from which a police 
whistle hung suspended. 

The lady's burnished, copper-colored 
hair clustered about her shoulders in 
ringlets and her features were noble and 
precise, the softness of lips belying the 
severity of chin and brow. She exuded 


a scent of Bel le Locks, a perfume Chaun- 
cey was able to identify instantly by 
virtue of his occasional labors as clerk 
at the cosmetic counter of Feldhausen's. 

“Lady Angela Cockburn?” he inquired 
politely. 

“That's pronounced Cbrn,” she said 
sharply. “And who might you be, boy?” 

“I am Chauncey Alcock, delivery boy 
for Feldhausen's Drugstore, located on 
the corner of Columbus Avenue and 
Seventy-fourth Street. "Your Health Is 
Our Concern, " he replied cheerfully. 

And then, for the first time, he noted 
an unusual fact: Lady Angela was wear- 
ing a monocle in her left eye, secured 
about her neck with a thin black ribbon. 
Now she observed him closely through 
her single glass, sweeping his resolute 
physique with an approving glance. 

“Well, come in, come in, boy,” she 
said. “Don't stand out there in the hall.” 

Chauncey obediently entered and the 
door was immediatly slammed and 
locked behind him. 

“I have brought your medication, 
mn," Chauncey said, proffering the 
package and realizing that milady was 
a woman of advanced age, perhaps as 
much as 35. "Since you maintain a 
monthly charge account with Feld- 
hausen's, there is no need to recompense 
me for this purchase at the present time. 
We appreciate your patronage and will 
be happy to be of service in the future. 
1 thank you.” 

“Well, you are a nice, polite boy,” 
Lady Cockburn nodded appreciatively. 
“I like nice, polite boys. Come in here 
and sit down for a minute. Would you 
like a drink?” 

“A dean glass of cold water would 
not be amiss, Lady Cbrn,” the Alcock 
lad replied, making certain to pro 
nounce her name in the manner she 
requested. “But I don't wish to trouble 


“No trouble, boy,” the mature woman 
said. "Just relax and make yourself at 
home." 

She went into the kitchen and Chaun- 
cey busied himself by surveying the rich 
appointments of this handsomely deco- 
rated apartment. He realized at once he 
was in the presence of vast wealth, for 
the dining table was surrounded by 
matching chairs and the table itself was 
laid with the bestquality paper table- 
doth and paper napkins rolled in rings 
of real plastic. On a small end table, a 
chromium sailboat floated on a blue 
mirror, and on the mantel was a small 
reproduction of the Fenus de Milo with 
an eight-day clock embedded in its abdo- 
men. The delivery boy acknowledged he 
was in an aparıment of people possessed 
of the highest taste and refinement. 

Lady Cockburn returned, carrying a 
glass of water for Chauncey and a glass 
of amber-colored liquid for herself 

(continued on page 341) 


num 


article By NELSON ALGREN in that place between the white sky and the 
black hovels, it turned out to be a lot easier to mount a camel than to photograph a whore 


WHENEVER BREAD came within Simone de Beauvoir's reach, she crushed it to death between her palms. She'd crushed a 
hundred loaves between Marrakech and Tunis, talking the whole while. She hadn't shut up since Casablanca and I 
hadn't had an unmangled slice since Fès. Why she had to turn fresh loaves into crumbs simply to turn Marx, Hegel 
and Freud into dry crusts, I understand no more today than I did in June of 1949. A Bedouin toiling between the 
shafts of a donkey cart, she assured me, was doing so because he could not afford to feed (continued on page 222) 153 


ILLUSTRATION BY FRANZ ALTSCHULER 


3 TEE OR = | 


HANGING QUT 
Ne 
‚OUT ве DS 


the secluded beachesand emerald 
waters of thesesbahamaan isles 
are aworld—and a commuter's 
hop—apart from the teeming 
tourist traps of nassau and freeport 


„ae 


154 PHOTOGRAPHY кее URBA 


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as r س‎ . P | 


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ww 


bowling alleys, ready and waiting when Florida finally fills up and begins choking in earnest. Most of the islands are 
still the way the last glacier and 10,000 years of sunshine have left them; but some, unfortunately, are not. 

Nassau, on New Providence, has always been the center of the Bahamas. Until Freeport recently elbowed its way 
onto the marquee, it was such a star that all the other islands took their status from the fact that they were not New 
Providence, and so they were Out. Nassau has paid for the attention. Back in the Thirties, it was an elegant little Brit- 
ish colonial town frequented chiefly by American millionaires gaily celebrating their escape from the Depression. The 
inevitable followed: Next came socialites bubbling under the Top Four Hundred, then nouveau chic college students 
who didu’t need Connie Francis to tell them Lauderdale was low rent, finally the sad eyed ladies of the cruise ships 
and Nassau was very much Discovered. Today along Bay Street, an old waterfront road once staggered over by blasted 
pirates on R & R, it is impossible not to notice the presence among the shops of a candy-swiped Colonel Sanders’ 
chicken shack, a Georgian brick Lum’s and a Burger King—home, as we know, of The Whopper. Nassau in January 


One of mony islets off Greot Harbour Coy in the Berry Islonds, above, offers total privocy to beochcombers ond sun bathers; Horbour Islond 
picnickers, below left, leove the tourist trail ond find themselves in а peocelul polm grove. After the salt water hos token its toll, scubo and skin- 
divers ot Andros Islond's Smoll Hope Boy Lodge, below right, wallow happily in a soothing mud bath of © unique limestone-ond-olgoe mixture. 


is still a better place to be than, say, Newark, but it's 
not precisely Getting Away From It All. 

Nor is the little island across the bay, for which 
Huntington Hartford paid $10,000,000 in 1959. For 
300 years it had been known accurately as Hog 
Island, but he renamed it Paradise and began build- 
ing on it—presumably as an emblem of his meta- 
pliysics—a high-rise resort. There are now six hotels, 
a golf course and a casino on the island, and you can 
if you like sit on combed sand sipping rum punches 
all day, shower and slip into your evening clothes, 


Guests at Abaco's posh Treasure Cay Beach Hotel and Villas gather 
for a hearty buffet, below. Not far from the Stelle Moris Inn on 
remote Long Island, right, swimmers wade in the warm shallows. 


ad then gamble your brains out all 
night—which, if you can afford it, isn't 
a bad way to spend a vacation. A crap 
table can tell you a lot about the state 
of your karma; and even if you learn 
the worst, the Paradise Island Yoga Re- 
treat is nearby, waiting to restore your 
inner tranquillity. 

But Freeport, on Grand Bahama, is 
the true mating of Las Vegas and Palm 
Beach. Rumors persist in the islands that 
it's a creation of the Syndicate; and if 
that is not the case, it should be, because 
the style is mafioso moderne. One of the 
two casinos masquerades as a white Moor- 
ish mosque, topped by a snowball dome 
filigreed with huge gold squiggles; and 
the International Bazaar, after greeting 
you with a 30-foot ceremonial torii gate 
(Japan's rather imposing version of the 
welcome mat), leads you through 18 acres 
of traditional Old World neighborhoods 
—Oriental, Spanish, Scandinavian and 
Middle Eastern—that abut in ways as 
incongruous as you might imagine and 
offer for sale an alarming variety of 
imported objects. In Freeport, it is very 
yy to forget that the ocean exists. 

Many people believe—or fear—that 
Paradise Island and Frecport arc, for the 
Bahamas, the future revealed. It's become 
a serious political issue. In a vote last 
September, the government of Lynden O. 
Pindling, the islands’ first black prime 
minister, won a strong vote of confidence 
by promising independence from Britain 
by July 1973; and everyone is wondering 
very hard how independence will affect 
the tourist trade and land development 
which count as the Bahamas’ two main 
industries. Pindling says he wants to ex- 
pand tourism slowly and carefully, in 
ways that let more natives taste the prof- 
its—and without turning the islands into 
a vast balmy amusement park. He has 
said he'd rather see the Bahamas revert 
to a fishing economy than become a tour- 
ist trap controlled by absentee owners. 
Ivs a fine plan—if you're not a foreign 
investor waiting to pounce—but it’s also 
true that the Bahamas’ only real chance 
to prosper in the immediate future is 10 
keep going on down the tourist road. So 
finally only а question of who owns 

the bulldozers how tastefully they 
are driven. 

In the meantime, there are still the 
Out Islands, touched lightly or not yet 
at all by the douds of apocalyptic free 
enterprise in the air. Their ume will 
come, but right now only 15 are even 
barely ready 10 take on the tourist trade. 
Several of them—Bimini, Andros, Abaco, 
Eleuthera, Exuma, the Berrys, Long Is 
land and Cat Cay—are serviced by daily 
flights from Nassau and Miami. But the 
airstrips are sometimes gravel and cut just 
long enough, and the terminals are usua 
ly tiny brick depots that look like dusty 
drive-in banks stuck in the wrong incarna- 

158 tion. From them, wonderful wrecks pos- 


PLAYBOY 


ing as taxicabs—pained old Impalas and 
strung.out '63 Pontiacs and an occasion- 
al senile Cadillac limo paying for sins 
unknown—take you rattling through the 
wilds down the wrong side of the road 
to your resort, or to a water taxi that 
will get you there. 

‘The island you choose depends on what 
you're into. The differences аге some- 
times subtle, but they're real. A sample 
of what's available on the Out Islands 
follows; for information about accommo- 
dations and other islands, see our chart 
оп page 318. 


Bimini is more like a border town 
than an Out Island. ‘There are actually 
three islands in the small group, but two 
don't count. East Bimini is completely 
empty and South Bimini, gradually los- 
ing the decadent glow it had while 
Adam Clayton Powell held Congress 
there, is practically that way. North 
Bimini, a thin l5-mile bacon strip of 
land, is Bimini. 

Cold sober and in broad daylight, it 
looks a little seedy, and for good reason 
It’s used hard and well. Only 50 miles to 
the west is Miami, which sits there just 
over the horizon Tike a gigantic steam 
calliope going full tilt, blasting out rock 
"m' roll and vaginal-spray commercials 
and Johnny Carson—and yachts. Bimini 
is too close not to tempt every weekend 
Ahab in Boca Raton, and then there is 
this: It marks a special spot in the 
ocean, where the shallows of the Great 
Bahama Bank meet the deep river of 
the Gulf Stream. To most people this is 
not overwhelming news, but it is to 
fishermen, because the meeting makes it 
опе of the best salt-water fishing spots 
in the world. Record blue marlin, dol- 
phin, tuna and shark have been dragged 
frantic and thrashing out of the Gulf 
Stream here, and, in the flats to the east, 
fly.fishermen in flat-bottomed skiffs cast 
like jewelers at spooky gray shadows 
called bonefish, skittish inedible ghosts 
that fight like Saturday night at the 
roadhouse when they realize their error. 

If there's no yacht in your life, you 
can get there, as | did, on Chalk's Inter- 
national Airlines, which flies full-be 
amphibious Grumma 
an enjoyable silly experience in itself: 
You climb into this little sheet-metal 
plane with two facing Naugahyde 
benches instead of seats. It then waddles 
down into the channel of the causeway 
—you quickly realize you're riding i 
side a duck that has swallowed a portion 
of subway car—the pilot flips on the 
windshield wipers (yes), the engines 
rev, spray flies and the plane strains 
reluctantly upward, webbed feet kicking 
like mad. Half an hour later, it plops 
down into the bay formed by North and 
South Rimini, struggles up onto a land- 
ing strip no bigger than a basketball 
court, shakes its ass and lets you out. 

The landing lot marks the south edge 


of Alice Town, which is strung for two 
miles like cubist beads along both sides 
of a narrow twolane blacktop called. 
naturally, Kings Highway. Heading 
north, you pass the End of the World 
Bar, a concrete-block bomb shelter that 
dispenses whiskey 24 hours a day and 
looks even at noon like an invitation to 
a knife fight. But every border town has 
a few of those, and not far beyond is 
Brown's, the collegiate hangout on the 
island, a plain smudged-looking hotel 
and bar where nothing more dangerous 
goes down than some exuberant carnal 
knowledge primed with beer. 

On the afternoon 1 got there, I finally 
spotted Margaret, my wise and enduring 
wife, coming toward me in front of 
Brown's. She'd beaten me to Bimini by 
two days and was just recovering from а 
week of raving Democrats and brilliant 
drunken journalists in Miami. As we 
walked, she pointed left up the road to 
our hotel, a clean jumble of white frame 
1 gables, a New England seacoast 
mansion built with no winters in mind. 
The Compleat Angler has been housing 
serious fishermen for 30 years, with 
proud yellowing pictures of remarkable 
catches framed on the walls to prove it 
—if the sailfish also hanging there, an 
gry and fine even in stuffed death, fail 
to make the point. You can practically 
hear the solemn old lies that hover 
around the small bar, and it makes you 
think more highly of Hemingway when 
you learn that he lived here while writ- 
ing part of To Have and Have Not. 

Bimini is loaded with Hemingway 
lore, and a chief source of it, we found 
later that evening, is Neville Stuart. He 
is now in happy semiretirement as the 
owner of the Anchors Aweigh Clul 
Years ago, he opened The Bimini 
Game Fishing Club—a hotel and marina 
for really serious fishermen, now expand- 
ed and owned by Bacardi—and organized 
the first sizable fishing tournaments on 
Bimini. He can't fish anymore, because 
he has only one kidney, but after a 
couple of whiskey sours, he isn't beyond 
telling stories of the days when he could. 
To my tin Ohio ear, his accent sounded 
like a warp of British English in losing 
battle with strange tropical forces, but 
the stories we could understand were 
good. And the wine was cold. Nicest was 
the story about Hemingway the rumrun- 
ner, in Bimini loading up croaker sacks 
with bottles of liquor and rigging them to 
float in one spot, then running at night 

п the Pilar dose to the Florida coast, 
where he'd dump them overboard and 
go check in clean and smiling at Cus- 
toms. Next morning carly he'd collect 
the croaker sacks and then head conspic- 
uously for Key West: another thing 
done because it was There. 

After dinner with Stuart, who couldn't. 
be bothered to eat— there was too much to 
tell—we excused ourselves to go wander 

(continued on page 314) 


LA) 


$ 


v/1/2/3/4|5 


memoir By MARSHALL FRADY 


хо DOUBT FOR ALL MEN since Cain, the 
first truc tastings of life have blurted to 
the palate of innocence coarsely, rank 
and violent as new garlic. 1 suspect 
that one of the common events in the 
private unarticulated history of my own 
gencration, growing up during the Fif 
ties in the fluorescent beginnings of the 
shopping-cemer civilization, was that we 
tended to come by those rude musks of 
experience by way of playing pinball 
machincs—much as poolrooms once 
served the boyhood seasoning of our 
fathers. In America’s lost age of vi 
even in the most meager and g 
prim township could be found at lea 
‘one pool hall, unobtrusive on a dirt side 


of honky-tonks, whores and 
gaudy machines that taught 
about life at a nickel a pop 


strect, with a kind of sleazy indestructi 
bility, a solitary quality of being one 
great gong of time older than all the 
trim white churches, the banks, the 
schools, the flags. Jt shared this peculiar 
primeval authenticity with only one 
other place in town, the jail. In 
aside from such trivial tokens of freedom. 
in the poolroom as half pints sagging 
lumpily in hip pockets, a petty inter- 
changing of linty wadded dollar bills 
and the idle clack and murmur of cue 
balls—the interiors of the two places 
were virtually indistinguishable. There 
was the same mute stalking and pacing 
of derelict figures under wanly glaring 
light bulbs, in a muggy lassitude of 
tedium faintly sour with the brutal 
swelter of (text continued on page 164) 


Three basic flipper machines in 
current ог recent productian: 
All are available from lacal 
distributors, as explained in the 
text beginning averleaf. 

Bally's consummately subtle 
Fireball is possibly the finest 
flipper machine ever produced. 
Alas, it's out af productian 

now, but used models are 
available for around $800. 
Super Star, a ane-player 
machine from Williams, features 
knackdown target hiding hole 
that offers up to 20,000 points, 
plus possible free games. Now 
one-player machines sell far 
around $695, used models for 
less, depending an candition. 
Gottlieb's two-player 

King Kool, an all-time arcade 
money-maker, baasts faur over- 
sized flippers, plus advancing 
bonus recorded after ball leaves 
playfield. A new two-player 
machine costs around $795. 


Above the machines: 

Details from their playfields. 
Spinning disk at the vital center 
of Fireball adds chance to what 
otherwise wauld be entirely o 
game of skill. Putting ball in 
either hole (top left or right in 
Fireball inset) produces an extra 
boll; hitting white knobs at lower 
right and left releases captive 
bolls for points and action. 
Messenger ball ot upper loft 
also releases captives, returning 
‘one for reshooting. Blue knob 
closes flippers, white knobs 

‘open them. A machine you've 
got to play to get into. 

In the drop-target crea of 

Super Stor, rolling aver numbered 
buttons in order lights concealed 
hole for free games. 

King Kool’s odvancing bonus 
array is о clever means of 
mollifying failure. Bonus award 
increases during play and scores 
after ball disappears. 


162 


REAT MOMENTS in Pob Lt Г: тосу 


. . . concerning the finest game 
on four legs—and how you can 
purchase one for your very own 


modern living 
By MICHAEL LAURENCE 


DESPITE ALL THE BLATHER about air- 
planes and racing cars, the ultimate 
commingling of man and machine still 
takes place at the silk-smooth flipper 
buttons of a well-tuned pinball machine 
No other human endeavor so involves 
skills of mind and body with the chal- 
lenging intricacies of a mechanical toy. 
Nowhere else are the rewards as rich, 
the sorrows as devastating. Except for its 
ability to preoccupy for hours or even 
days at a time, pinball playing could be 
compared to making love. Both acts are 
sources of a pleasure better experienced 
than described. Both improve with prac- 
tice and respond to innovation, And 
both can prove satisfying day after day 
for an entire lifetime, as refinements in 
technique supplant flagging desire and 
increasing familiarity. 

Not surprising, when you think about 
it. While not as old as lovemaking itself, 
pinball far preceded airplanes, automo- 
biles or other mechanical gadgets through 
which men express themselves, The 
contemporary pinball machine had its 
ancestor in the bagatelle board, а bil- 
liardlike gaming device whose origins 
are lost in antiquity. The first literary 
reference to pinball—in chapter 14 of 
Pickwick Papers—mentions one of 
these: Members of the Pickwick Club 
visited the (continued on page 260) 


1947: The late Harry Mobs, legendary pinball 
designer, invents the solenoid-activated flipper 
unit, ineluctably associated with the game 
ever since. At the touch of the button, green 
electromagnet swallows black plunger. Ka-pow! 


1935: A banner year for pirball 
innovation. Electronic anti-tilt devices 
eliminate brawn as a play factor; 
solencid-poworod kicker units 

add action. Sketch of contemporary 
machine (above) shows design and 
placement of anti-tilt devices. Plumb 
bob (in red) is positioned near left 
flipper bution; machine tilts when 
plumb hits metal ring. Moral: Nudge 
the machine with your right hand. Ball- 
in-channel device (yellow), also located 
at left, tilts if machine is raised. No 
putting bricks under the front legs. 
Anfisslam devices (green) protect 
against hard knocks. Left: The modern 
thumper-bumper unit is a model of 
electronic simplicity. Ball @ hits ri 
© connected to pylan ©) closing 
contacts © activating solenoid ©, 
which pulls down ring ©. Ka-chunkt 


1862: Union Army suffers staggering defeat at Bull Run, while President Lincoln 1930: D. Gottlich’s BoMe Boll, the 
plays pinball. Rodents at lower left—ond players‘ scruffy beards—typify the first moss-marketed pinball machine, 
sleaziness with which pinballing was once assaciated. Bur no mare. Faathall is paid the rent for a generation of 

now the sport of Presidents, but Beautiful People still prefer pinball. Ka-chingl Depression-era borkeeps. Plink, plink 


1933: The intraduction of 
electricity opens limitless 
Pinball horizons. Electranic 
technology developed rapidly 
and extensively during the 
late Thirties but has still nat 
been fully explaited. Торі 


1973: Tomarrow’s pinball? Sea Hunt, 
by Allied Leisure Industries, gives 
illusian of underwater play. Matar- 
cycle grips activate flippers and 
shake mirrored playfield. Glug, glug 


1937: A year writ larger than life an the mnemonic backboard of a generation of pinballers. On 
December fourth. Western Equipment and Supply Company, naw defunct, introduces Aksarben (that's 
Nebraska spelled backward)—featuring the addictive allure of free games. To the subjective rewards 


JIUSTRATIONS BY JOHN CRA 
of five wellplayed balls, add positive reinforcement ond delayed gratificati OCRAPRY BY DO * 


|. Thwack, маск! PHOTOGRAPHY BY DON AZUMA 


163 


PLAY 


164 


P:NPAkh (continued from page 159) 


weary but unflagging human quick, en- 
closed in bare glum walls scribbled over 
with an infinity of graffiti. For a youth 
from the genteel and circumspect neigh- 
borhoods in town, where on sunny Sat- 
urday mornings the careful measured 
cadences of piano lessons gusted lightly 
from front-parlor windows, the pool hall 
was a clandestine entry into the darker, 
measureless labyrinth of his more ancient 
and elemental legacy as а man, the local 
depot beyond which Jay those unknown 
primordial regions of mortality. 

In my own case, as a Baptist minister's 
son in a small Georgia city, I grew up in 
a world I now remember as an endless 
recurrence of luminous chaste Sunday 
mornings, ethereal hymns and an abid- 
ing chill mustiness, like old roses in stale 
water, of implacable rectitudes and de 
corums abstracted beyond the senses, 
away from the earth. And it was not 
pool tables but pinball machines that 
acted, obliquely, as the medium of trans- 
Iation out of that nebulous, cauled boy- 
hood. Augusta was not only aboriginally 
and incorrigibly a river city. enduring 
rowdiness lurking below municipal se 
dateness, but it had also acquired an 
Army base on its outskirts, a conjunc- 
tion of circumstances that made it prime 
turf in pinball geography, multiplying 
one more time what had already been a 
clamorous extravagance of honky-tonks 
and other covert retreats—rather b; 
barous territory altogether, suggesting 
some remote metropolitan reservation 
for sullen half-tamed Anglo-Saxons from 
the surrounding ріпу gnatshimmering 
flatlands. So the frontier edge of that 
larger ultimate continent of experience 
turned out to be a dingy nether region 
of old gas stations and cinder-block 
readhouses—dumpy back rooms bare as 
а penitent's cell, where one found the 
hine: plain 
rette scorched, slightly dilapidated look 
of authenticity, on which free games 
meant money. not just replays. There, 
sometime around 12 or 13, it was as if I 
were hung for a year in a single change- 
less pose, arms spread to grip the edges 
of the mach pulpit, in an 
urgent lean of supplication before an 
il'uminated board furiously and unin 
telligibly pinging and chattering. And 
illustrated—like a primitive talisman of 
the essential sensuality of all gambling — 
with exuberantly livid comic-book visions 
of a race of identically glad and opulent 
females in bathing suits, arrayed over an 
anonymous palmed beach under a tropi- 
cal moon, all of them strenuously frolic 
ing around windows of numbers, the 
crosshatched cryptograms of whimsical 
id. inscrutable chance. 

Entreating those stati ly festive 
nymphs of luck, it's also possible that the 


body—engaged, with urgent tugs and hip 
nudgings, in а tensed and delicate inter- 
play with the elusive drift and swoop of 
the ball—began to pick up, like dim 
signals of another intelligence, the first 
smoldering premonitions of the heft and 
play of pleasuring а woman. It was, along 
with everything else, most assuredly a 
gently dynamic intercourse of kinetics, 
involving a fine elegance of watchwork 
movements, thoughtless subtle reactions, 
a body wit of discreet and infinitely var- 
ied syncopations. Some veterans of the 
machines allege that no one who has ar- 
rived at a deft rapport with pinball has 
ever wound up dull in the leg dasp of 
woman. But that poses the prospect that 
a number of artisans might. pass the rest 
of their lives trying to discover some 
palpable materialization of those vivid 
beach sirens imprinted on glass, ak 
ways with an obscure anticipation that, 
through the same heatles fierce exer- 
of precision in bed, some ultimate 
mystic board of their own lives will 
suddenly erupt in lights and bells and 
free games. 

In any event, in those dank cement 
back rooms, blearily lit by the flickering 
glare of icy neon tubes, onc had a 
rudimentary apprenticeship in the imme- 
morial mysteries of the race: lust, lone- 
someness, obsession, risk, defeat; but 
also indefatigable hope and belief. What 
lent this apprenticeship. its particular 
dark and tawdry glamor of the illicit 
was, more than anything else, the places 
where one ventured to play the ma- 
chines. Across the river in South Caro- 
lina, there was a certain” roadhouse 
tucked away in pines, reached by a long 
and viciously gullied dirt road that 
plunged, unmarked, off the highway, 
trailing weedily through a cow pasture, 
through nighttime whiffs of sweet dew 
and manure, distant disembodied lowings 
and moans. It was а plain harsh cracker- 
box building, adorned by a single neon 
Pabst sign, constructed scemingly in one 
swift ragged fit of carpentry out of raw 
yellow-pine planks. Inside, there still lin- 
gered a wild tang of pine resin, along 
with a savage mildew tinge of whiskey 
nd vagrant nuances of vehemently 
sweet female perfumes—making up а 
id of musk that will forever remain, 
for me, the incense of prodigality. On 
weekends here occurred all manner of 
mayhem, this site having somehow be- 
come appointed by the countryside as 
the ritual ground for the resolution of 
elemental scores: a muttered insupporta- 
ble affront in a café two weeks earlier or 
a yellowhaired wife who had honky- 
tonked one time too many. Such matters 
were taken care of here in a kind of 
common sacrament of retribution, which 
usually began inside with a sudden clat- 
ter of chairs and a climactic exultant 


howl and bellow of voices, continuing 
outside in the deep summer night with a 
fitful, wordless scuflling in the gravel 
parking lot, bodies clumping against 
pickup-truck fenders, maybe a quick 
glint of knife blades, sometimes a few 
blue gunshots. 

Playing the machines that stood off in 
a corner of that low catacomb-dark 
room, I had seen several times a closed 
door at the rear, edged with a thin 
stenciling of light like a т 
over a lantern pane. bel 
mittently heaved a vague muffled uproar 
like the sound of surf on a distant shore. 
Then one Saturday night, the door 
briefly opened. ‘There was a momentary 
glimpse, no longer than the dazzling 
flash of a few frames of film, of smoke 
gauzing sluggishly under hooded lights, 
a soft glittering of amber drinks, a sin 
gle flicker of white dice across a brilliant 
green-felt tabletop around which moved 
a slow luxurious eddy of expensively 
preened people, among them a tall, 
gaunt woman in an iridescent emerald 
gown, poised slightly off-tilt with her 
mouth open in hectic oblivious laughter. 
1 recognized her, after the door had shut 
again, as my second-grade music teacher 
—known to me, up to this instant, only 
as a tenuous presence in drizzling Febru- 
ary afternoons past, a lank and gawky 
figure in drab sagging woolens, usually 
smudged in eraser dust, who lived, un- 
mated, in a shuuered antebellum hulk 
with several sour female collies and an 
unmowed yard. Now, in one quick 
glimpse, she had startlingly and surreal 
istically metamorphosed, Attached to 
her was an anonymous plumpish man 
with thinning sandy hair and whiskey- 
scorched cheeks wearing a 
glazed grin, one small dainty hand 
spread against her flank. But in that sec- 
ond the door had been open, it seemed 
she had glanced at me—had seen me, 
out in the dark blind deeps of that 
other room, standing solitary in the 
lurid nickelodeon glow of the pinball 
machine—but without recognition, or 
rather, with an idle and totally differ 
ent kind of recognition, her eyes bright 
and avid and ecstatic, a rapid and 
incidental glance that. nevertheless com- 
municated some stunning rumor of 
other unsuspected galaxies. (Only a few 
months later, after the roadhouse owner 
got a call one Saturday sundown ap- 
prising him that four carloads of state 
lawmen were headed his way from Co- 
lumbia, the place vanished, in about 15 
minutes, in a sudden roar and glare of 
flames) 

By accident—or perhaps not so much 
by accident—one tended to come by 
such peripheral epiphanies wherever one 
went to shoot the machines. One sum- 

ing, at the back of a drive-in 
(continued on page 241) 


who was 


mer evel 


IN FRONTOF 
GOO 
ANO EVERYBODY 


wearing а тану bathrobe, singing a joyful song and bearing gifts from afar, you slouch into bethlehem 
trying to con the parole board —to make them believe that you've got religion tll you just can't stand й 


article BY DONN PEARCE снктмл was commo. And so was the pageant. And so was 
my solo bass-baritone role as Melchior. For I was about to become an Oriental king. 
Every evening for two weeks, we were turned out of our cells and taken up to the auditorium, It was all showbiz. 
Set designers hammered, singers practiced, the narrator tested the mike and rehearsed his lines. The guys in the band 
tootled a little and banged around, down from their bennies and very low, sheepish, a little embarrassed. There were 
lumber, sheet music, a hot plate brewing coffee in a tin can. There was also an enlarged choir, new members recruited 
to expand the ranks. But one of the new ones was Svengali, the creep with the long black hair slicked down flat and 
greasy and with extremely bulged eyes, which indicated brain tumors or severe schizophrenia or some primordial evil 
no one could name, His head hung forward as though his neck were broken and those (continued on page 200) 165 


166 


December Playmate Mercy Rooney and fellow Bunny Niki Chin decorate the Los 
Angeles Playbay Club for Christmas. Mercy became a full-time Bunny in March but 
has recently started working just a few nights a week so she'll have time for her 
new acting career. *'The Club is great about letting you work when it's canvenient.'" 


/ 


, 


MERCY, MERCY! 


bunny-playmate mercy rooney—a 
neophyte rodeo fan—has her hopes for 
the future riding on an acting career 


SHE LIVED on a New Jersey farm until she was six 
years old, and her fondness for the country life and 
a jals lingered long after her family’s move from 
the East to Los Angeles; so it was |. |, when 
Mercy Rooney saw a rodeo last summer, that she'd 
fall in love with it. Here's how it happened 

was deeply involved in clothes designing for a 
couple of years, and eventually I began to specialize 
in leather. Through a series of contacts, I agreed to 


167 


do some leatherwork for rodeo contestants and decided I should go see a rodeo myself in order to get an idea of 
how the clothes should function.” She got the chance a short time later, driving north along the California coast 
to the vegetable valleys around Salinas, where a major rodeo was being held. Everything about it impressed her: 
the spectacle, the crowds, the athletes and their ladies, and she formed some interesting perceptions about the sport. 
“Most people think of rodeo as man conquering beast—men riding bulls, roping calves, that kind of thing. That's 
not it at all. Rodeo is actually man conquering his own body, being able to control it and make it work the way 
he wants it to. The real pros are very disciplined people; with discipline comes skill, and that’s what makes the 
whole thing a treat for fans, Riding rodeo is a beautiful, graceful art when a person's really good at it.” During the 
168 Salinas event, Mercy met somebody who's probably as good at it as anyone ever gets: five-time all-round champion 


Larry Mahan, “Larry and I became great friends. He's simply 
tremendous to watch and he let me see the whole thing from 
the chutes area. I liked being right down there with the dirt 
kicked in the air, flying in your face, and the animals lunging 
so close that you have to jump for a fence to get out of their 
way." Mahan and his colleagues enjoyed Mercy's visit at least 
as much as she enjoyed being there. Asked about the reaction 
when she appeared on the scenc, Mahan says, “I recollect hear- 
ing quite a few ‘Good God A’mightys!’ And one of my friends 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ALEXAS URBA 


Bottom: An accomplished clothes designer, Mercy 
especially enjoys working with leather. “At one point 
in my life, I designed leather wardrobes. | don't 
do it as much now. There's iust not enough time.” 


said to me, ‘We gotta get her out of 
here, І can't concentrate on my horse.” 
When she isn't distracting rodeo per- 
formers, Mercy lives a busy life in Los 
Angeles, following a schedule that 

vides time between Bunnying at the 
L.A. Club and returning to an acting 
career that she had pursued after high 
school, then capriciously dropped for a 
couple of years. "I'm back in acting 
school and working hard at it. I guess I 
quit before because I just had too many 
things going. I was designing full time, 
I managed a chain of design shops for a 
while, then became a Bunny, too. Now 
I'm working at the Club only three 
nights a week so I'll have time to take 
some classes and audition for parts. I've 
done some already—The Tonight 
Show, Laugh-In and several commercials. 
"This time, I plan to keep acting until I 
meet the man, retire to a ranch and г 

animals. But that figures to be in the 
very distant future.” Her rodeo friends 
are certain that Mercy will find what 
she wants. Says Larry Mahan, “Мег 
Cy's gonna be a very successful young 
lady in this little ol’ thing we call life.” 


E 27 GN 


Mercy's leather-clothing clients have included some top rodeo performers, and when she heard that с rodeo was coming to 
Salinas, she drove up to see them at work. She gets a rope-twirling lesson from Alvin Deal (above) and talks with close friend 
Larry Mahan (below left), a five-time rodeo champion. Later (below right), she watches Mahan take a ride for some prize money. 


388930 SSIN 


EN 


$ 


Following the rodeo, Mercy finds a secluded place and (above) shows her own riding form. Later, she drives back 
to Los Angeles, where she's scheduled for work that night at the Club (below). A member of the Bunnyettes, who 
sing, dance and introduce the Playroom entertainment, Mercy gives one of the group's routines a ten-gallon twist, 


PLAY BOY’S PARTY JOKES 


said the bride to the groom on their 
wedding night, “I have something to confess. | 


“You do? Well. there's another thing. . 


Our Wes Coast scout has reported that ап 
updated version of Cinderella is under consid. 
eration in Hollywood: Her coach turns into a 
pumpkin and the next day two people are look 
ing for her—the prince and Ralph Nader. 


Following а record number of deaths in а 
briet period. a huge nervous crowd had formed 
in front of the pearly gates for examination as 
to acceptance or rejection. Suddenly, an angel 
at the gates said something into a gold mega- 
phone and а roar of approval and a burst ol 
cheering swept through the people. “What did 
he say?” asked a fellow at the rear of the crowd. 

“I'm not positive,” whispered his neighbor, 
but I think screwing out of wedlock no longer 
count 


And then there was the plaster-casting groupie 
who spent the night with Mick Jagger. and so 
had the opportunity to cast the first Ston 


Perhaps you've he 
who crossed ап «ері, 
produced a two-ton pi 


d about the genetics genius 
at with a floozy and 


А teenaged mock-government week in the 
state capital had featured more sex than scri 
ousness, When onc of the malc participants 


returned home, his mother asked him what 
particular project had been. "It was а baule 
lor legislative committee posts, Mom.” he re- 
plied. “There was a nice little split in the 


opposition—and, well, I managed to get my 
member in.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines Copenha 
gen skin-flick actor as a prone Danish. 


Take your glasses off. Ar 
ded. “They're t 

"Better put them bı 
few seconds later. "You're 


she giggled а 
issing the shag rug!” 


And just what was the extent of the defend 
ати" amorous involvement?” asked the aitor- 
ney during a pat 

“Well. from what I could see,” replied the 
shapely plaintiff. “I'd say seven inches. tops. 


A man went into a nd ordered а beer 
After he'd been served. he reached into his 
breast pocket and lifted out a perlectly formed 
little figure four inches tall. ‘Then he produced 
a thimble. "A beer for my friend here, too.’ 
he requested, “and go easy on the head. 

“Is he for real?” asked the bartender. 

“He is.” said the man. 

“Gan he talk?" persisted the bartender. 

“He can,” replicd the man. “George.” һе 
went on. “tell this chap about the ume we 
were on that expedition and you called the 
witch doctor a black son of a bitch. 


His kookie French mistress, George Sand, 
Кер “Fingers” Chopin well in hand 

By suggesting to Fred: 

“If you knock off for bed, 
You can bang me mstead of your grand!” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines self-control 
as being able to recall the plot of a drive-in 
movie 


not 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines gay trum- 
y 8 
pet player as a vatti-frutti. 


A young American businessman visiting Te 
kyo knew no Japanese, but he nevertheless 
managed to persuade an attractive girl who 
spoke no English to accompany him to his 
hotel room. He felt proud of his prowess 
the girl kept exclaiming, "Nachigai апа!" w 
considerable fecling during the sex act. 

The following afternoon, he played golf 
with a prominent Japanese industrialist 
When the latter happened 10 score a hole in 
one, the American decided 10 make som 
intercultural brownie points by shouting. 
"Nachigai ana! Nachigat апа?" at the top of 
his voice. 

The industrialist turned slowly and fixe 
him with a penetrating stare. “What you 
mean—the wrong hole?" 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a post 
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, 
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago. 
Ill. 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


‚ Marie, I think you take the title 


"Sometimes. 


nth too literally." 


Louis the Sixteen 


OF TIME AND THE RIVER: All who have 
sought the Mississippi have found some- 
thing more, have found their own 
sources and oudets, as if the river were a 
god or the oracle of a god. Mark Twain 
as Huck Finn, on the church of his raft: 
“It was kind of solemn, drifting down the 
big, still river, laying on our backs look- 
ing up at the stars, and we didn’t ever 
feel like talking aloud, and warn't 
often that we laughed—only a little kind 
of a low chuckle.” T. S. Eliot, St. Loui 

boy Englishing his childhood awe: "I do 
not know much about gods; but I 
think that the river / Is a strong brown 
god. . . ." William Carlos Williams, tough 
baby doctor sprawling loose before the 
New World, the New World for him a 
goddess in wondrous bloody lust baiting 
priapic De Soto: "And in the end you 
shall receive of me, nothing—save one 
long caress as of a great river passing 
forever upon your sweet corse." De Soto's 
men, fearful that the Indians would 
discover by their leader's death that he 
was not the god they thought him to 
be, cascd him like a nut in a hollowed 
cottonwood log and dumped him into 
the river, where he perhaps became 
a snag, became a towhead, became an 
island midsueam and then was duly 
washed away to the Gulf, detritus of con- 
quest, discoverer dissolved by the flood 
he discovered, as are we all. No man 
steps twice into the same river. Not even 
his own. 

I'm wukin’ my way back home, 

I'm wukin' my way back home, 

I'm wukin' my way back home, Bab: 

I'm wukin’ my way back home. 

Timber don't git too heavy fo’ me, 

An’ sacks too heavy to stack, 

All that I crave fo many a long day, 

Is yo’ lovin’ when I git back. 

The Mississippi River drains nearly 
half the continental United States. Its 
tributaries head as far east as Pennsyl- 
vania and New York, as far north as 
Minnesota, as far west as the continental 
divide in Wyoming and Montana. It 
carries the runoff of 1,245,000 square 
miles of land into the Gulf of Mexico. 
IE you count the Missouri as its main 
branch, it is the third longest river in the 
world; in places, a mile wide and as 


THE 
MISSISSIPPI 


article By RICHARD RHODES 


dammed, leveed, jettied and 
polluted till huck finn himself 
wouldn’t recognize it, it is still 
the father of waters 


ILLUSTRATION BY MARA MC AFEE 


much as 200 feet deep. Muddy, but not 
so muddy as most of us imagine: 
Though it annually transports some 
400,000,000 tons of silt and gravel down- 
stream, slowly working to level the 
continent, its volume of water is so tre- 
mendous that all those tons of earth 
represent an average of only 600 parts 
per million of its total load. That is a 
tenth of the Missouri Rivers average. 
China's Yellow River, by contrast, often 
carries a weight of carth greater than the 
weight of its water. In low water, above 
the mouth of the Missouri at St. Louis, 
the Mississippi is sometimes as blue as tne 
Danube once was. It is turbid not be- 
cause of mud but because it carries sus- 
pended within it tiny grains of sand that. 
efficiently reflect sunlight on the wave 
lengths of the human eye. 

Nor is the Mississippi busy at delta 
building, as the Nile was before the 
High Aswan Dam choked it, as the Ti- 
gris and Euphrates are today at the rate 
of 160 feet a year. The Mississippi's 
delta forms not outward but downward: 
Such is the weight of the alluvium it has 
deposited into the Gulf below New Or- 
leans that it has depressed the earth's 
crust there, tilting the block of crust 
downward and uplifting the coastal lands 
in the state of Mississippi. Numbers can 
hardly compass the volume of water the 
Mississippi carries. Banks full, the lower 
river can handle 1,000,000 cubic feet of 
water per second. By comparison, New 
York City uses 175,000,000 cubic feet of 
water per day. 

Tt heads in Lake Itasca in northern 
Minnesota (though some have argued, 
successfully, 1 think, that if early explor- 
ers had entered the North American 
continent from the West, they would 
have counted the headwaters of the Mis- 
souri River in Montana as its source— 
until St. Louis, the Missouri is the long- 
er and more powerful stream). Unlike 
most rivers, within a few miles of its 
source the Mississippi begins meander- 
ing, wandering back and forth in a 
pattern dictated by the slope of the land 
and its composition, a pattern shaped by 
complicated pressures of water and earth 
into onc of the simplest of all mathemati- 
cal forms, the sine wave, or connected $ 
curve. It picks up the Wisconsin River 
—French explorers used the Wisconsin 
as a short cut to the Mississippi from the 
Great Lakes—then the Missouri, then 
the Ohio, the St. Francis, the Arkansas, 
running full and powerful now, then 
the Yazoo, then down into the bayou 
South and past New Orleans 
other 100 miles out its three delta passes 
to the sea. A pantheon of smaller rivers 
enters it all along its way. It is not the 
father of waters but the gatherer of 
waters. From the Appalachians to the 
180 Rockies and over into Texas, from the 


PLAYBOY 


Canadian border to the Gulf Coast, 
everything that rains from the sky, every- 
thing we pour and flush and drain, even- 
tually runs into the Mississippi. The 
Great Sewer, one early observer named 
it who saw the dead trees and the black, 
bloated bodies of drowned buffalo 
freighted by. It is the Great Sewer in 
spades today. 

Опсе it emptied into an ancient river 
called the Teays. Ice-age glaciers pushed 
it south, connected it with the Ohio, and 
found outlet into a belly of flatland 
that reaches up almost to St. Louis, the 
Mississippi embayment, in ages past the 
farthest inland extension of the Gulf of 
Mexico. Down the middle of the embay- 
ment, down a depressed line of bedrock 
called the Mississippi Structural Trough 
that is covered today with an average of 
150 feet of alluvial soil, the Mississippi 
River ran in full course to the sea. 

If huge natural forces are gods, the 
Mississippi is one of our greatest gods, 
and its mark is on our past. Relic spe- 
cies of fish and wildflowers that are 
found in the Missouri Ozarks do not 
occur again until the Appalachians. 
"They are divided from themselves by the 
river, which also divided thc densc for- 
est that once covered Eastern America, 
the pelt of God, from the prairies and 
plains of the West. Anonymous Mon- 
golians who crossed the Bering Strait 
20,000 years ago and discovered North 
America first looked at the river 
through human eyes, stalking mastodon 
into the embayment out of Ozark hills. Tt 
drowned De Soto's corpse and thwarted 
La Salle's visionary dreams. It defined 
the Louisiana Purchase for Thomas 
Jefferson. Lewis and Clark poled it; Zebu- 
lon Pike explored its western reaches; 
it was turnpike and waterway to 19th 
Century America. Vicksburg's blood ran 
into it and the blood of Union men. 

It nurtured the genius of Samuel 
Clemens. He returned to it joyfully, as a 


land. "The Mississippi is well worth 
reading about,” he began Life on the 
Mississippi, in words so understated they 
hardly make a sound. "It is not a com- 
monplace river, but on the contrary is 
in all ways remarkable.” He was not a 
man to gush. He saved his emotion for a 
later moment, when he might explain 
indirectly what he felt for the river, he 
who had been a river pilot until the 
Civil War with its attendant dangers cut 
short his career: “Your true pilot cares 
nothing about anything on earth but 
the river, and his pride in his occupa 
tion surpasses the pride of kings.” Like 
Huck, he lit out for the Territory, leav- 
ing the river behind. For the rest of his 
life, he struggled with that decision, 
and more than once its consequences 
brought him low. 
The Mississippi 


has claimed men's 


lives, tens of thousands of them: De 
Soto's was only a marker, after all 
Count drowned voyageurs, their canoes 
overloaded with beaver pelts; count 
keelboat men coursing down drunk 
from Ohio; count escaping slaves and 
exploding steamboats and sailors can- 
noned out of gunboats in the Civil War. 
Count the victims of the river's huge 
floods: 330,000 people were rescued trom 
roofs and treetops during the Rood of 
1927, the flood Herbert Hoover called 
“the greatest disaster of peacetimes in 
our history.” Count all the dead and 
you still have not begun to measure the 
river, but at least you may begin to 
know it as more than the steadfast Ol 
Man of Showboat fame. 

And know this also about the river: 
that unlike every other alluvial river in 
the world, it does not build up the land. 
The Yellow, the Po, the Nile build 
valleys to ever-higher elevations by wash- 
ing the hills where they head into the 
valleys downstream. The M ppi 
does not, because it is so large, because 
it is so deep. Even its continually chang. 
ing meanders, once the river has cut 
through their necks and run on by, fill 
back in. You can see them from the air 
all along the embayment. the snaking 
vines of the past river, memories of past 
courses solidified into soil as if they 
never were. The Mi pi is not an 
mot setled here; 
like an oracle in this also, it is a trav- 
eler, it is only passing through. 


ion threatens the lower river, 
n from the farms and towns and 
cities and industrial parks upstream, 
pollution from 60 refineries and steel 
mills and chemical plants at Baton 
Rouge—threatens, potentially, the Gulf 
of Mexico itself, which may die someday 
as Lake Erie died—but pollution is not 
the primary paradox of man's work on 
the Mississippi. That paradox is subtler, 
one of first choices and last things. The 
river must be controlled if people are to 
live on its vast flood plain. But the river 
cannot be controlled. Not entirely. The 
price would be too high and the effects 
unknown. The river is big as nature 
itself. That is the paradox, that nature is 
larger than any man-made controls and 
includes them. 

In Vicksburg, Mississippi, years ago, 
in grudging response to the flood of 1927, 
which upset all its calculations, 
U.S. Army Corps of Engineers built 
Waterways Experiment Station. Ci 
engineers had argued successfully that 
gauging the river, as the Corps had done 
n the past, wasn't enough to understand 
it, nor leveeing the river enough to c 
trol it: They must model it and ıry out 
their works on the models before they 
(continued on page 296) 


ILLUSTRATICN BY WILLIAM BIDERBOST 


if one wished to add the ultimate irony, one might observe that the duke had bitten off more than he could chew 


fiction by david ely The disappearance of the Duke 
of Montguisc in Italy caused little concern at first, for it was 
his custom to travel alone and he rarely bothered to inform 
anyone of his whereabouts. 

As weeks went by, however, troubled looks began to appear 
on the faces around the tables of the two or three restaurants 
in Paris where it was still possible for a civilized man to eat a 
decent meal. Montguise had been absent for longer periods 
in the past, it was true, and yet his friends were becoming 
increasingly anxious. To them, Italy was a barbaric land, full 
of perils. ‘The duke himself was far beyond the age when new 
adventures could be lightly undertaken. Suppose something 
happened to him? Not only would that be a personal 
tragedy, it would be a calamity, for Montguise was in his own 
person virtually a national monument. He possessed the 
greatest stomach in France. 

He was that is the finest of gourmets. Centuries of 
breeding had been required to produce the fastidiousness of 
his taste. So keen was his olfactory sense that he could 
identify any dish merely by its aroma, and from just one 


mouthful, he could tick off its ingredients not merely in their 
precise proportion but in their order of admixture as well. 

Although he modestly avoided any display of his virtuosity, 
Montguise had on one famous occasion met the challenge of 
the Marquis of Degne, who had rashly wagered 50,000 francs 
that the duke would be unable to determine, from Degne's 
breath, the courses that Degne had just eaten for dinner that 
night at Maxim's. Montguise had coolly accepted this dare, 
and so the two noblemen had squared off as in a duel before 
а rapt audience in that splendid restaurant, the marquis 
arrogantly exhaling into the duke's face, while the maitre de 
stood by as judge, a marked menu in his hand. Great was the 
awe of the onlookers when Montguise not only correctly 
named all eight courses (in reverse, as he sniffed his way 
through the various layers of the marquis’ glottal emana- 
tions) but also criticized the cervelle de veau en matelote as 
being slightly underdone . . . and then calmly proceeded to 
announce what Degne had eaten for lunch that day. 

In recent months, the duke had betrayed great uneasiness 
and gloom. He kept complaining 


(continued on page 190) уву 


pur cS eee | 


exclusively for playboy, 
photographer herbert 
migdoll captures the 
joffrey ballet’s stunning 
nancy robinson 
transformed into her 
sensuous title role 


Aphrodite . . . Venue. . ~ 
Ishtar . . . to the ancient 
Phoenicians, she wos Astarte. 
‘Symbol of sex and fertility, 
lover and destroyer of men, 
taken by all, owned by none 
. «and recently hailed as the 
potron goddess of women’s 
liberation. But to balletomones 
at home and abroad, Astarie 
is the perennial showstopper 
of New York's hip and 
venturesome City Center Joffrey 
Ballet. One London critic called 
the work “so for out it will 
meet other ballets coming 
back,” while New York Times 
critic Clive Barnes declared 
Astarte “not only better but 
far, far sexier” than Oh! 
Calcutla! Company director- 
choreographer Robert Joffrey 
says, “Had 1 done the ballet in 
1970, | would have done it 
nude, but the time was not yet 
right." Here, with impeccable 
timing, prima ballerina Noney 
Robinson and Herbert Migdoll, 
Joffrey staff photogropher and 
art director of Dance magozine, 
uncover for PLAYBOY a new, 
never-before-seen Astarte. 


First of the multimedio hord- 
rock bollets—utilizing film 
ond an award-winning score 
by Crome Syrcus—the 

Аоте myth became Migdoll's 
mission оз he sought to 
copture “that cool, marble 
quality" of the goddess 
depicted in clossic Assyrian ond 
Greek sculpture. The lotus 
emblem on Astorte's brow 
eternol symbol of life see. 
nourished by water, and 
Migdoll waited months for 
the rare floro to bloom ot 
Bluebeord’s Castle in the 
Virgin Islonds, a somewhot 
paradoxical site for his 
Photographie essay on а 
tontolizing Astorte "who 
springs from the lotus like 
Boticelli’s Venus on the half 
shell. Noncy wos turned on by 
the setting; she thought the 
vines were sexy.” Colifornio 
beautiful, with o “now” look 
ond outlook thot deepen her 
affinity for contemporory 
bollet, Noncy felt this new, 
wild, watery world might 
provide o wellipring of 
inspiration for Astorte. 


A man rises from the audience, 
moves toward the goddess os 
if in a trance, strips down to his 
briefs and takes her. She in 
turn uses her liberated sexual 
powers to emosculate him. So 
goes the onstage version of 
Astarle, о psychedelic sex 
dream re-created here by 
Migdall, with Nancy and her 
partner, Christian Holder, sans 
costumes. "In performance, | 
have often wished we were 
nude," says Nancy, who once 
thought herself too human and 
earthly to dance Astarte. “I 
always begin feeling very 
celibate. Later, | get quite 
turned оп... | feel five or six 
different ways . . . soft and 
alluring . . . lustful . . . the 
crazy kind of feeling, like an 
orgasm. At the end, | can't 
talk, or relate to peaple, 
sometimes far hours.” Added to 
photographer Migdoll’s light- 
show legerdemain inspired by 
the triumph of Astarte, thase 
wards yield more than a clue 
to Nancy Robinsan's reputatian 
as today’s most erotic ballerina, 


symposium 


answering the questions: who has it? what's it like to have some? what can be done 
to spread it around? machiavelli was unavailable, so we asked four other guys 


ROBERT EVANS 


Bob Evans was asked into 
movies twice, the second time 
by Darryl Zanuck. He didn't 
make it as an actor but 
liked the industry enough to 
sell his interest in a fashion 
business for a few million and 
take an office at 20th Cen- 
tury-Fox. A few years later, 
he was named head of 
Paramount. He made more 
enemies than pictures in 
Hollywood at first, but then 
he had a good run of mov- 
ies. He also has a big house 
and drives nice cars, His 
most recent picture is “The 
Godfather.” 


WHEN 1 got this job six years 
ago, there was a lot of talk 
about my being “power hun- 
вту" that my motivation was 
power. You want to know the 
truth? My motivation was sur- 
vival in a town that can be 
the most vicious in the world. 
The rumors gave me six 
months before I'd be fired. 
Thal didn't bother me much; 
1 don't lack confidence. But 
my immediate goal was to sur- 
vive ina business where many 
people expected me to fall. 
By nature, I'm not а cor- 
porate animal driven to 
build an empire. But I am 
terribly competitive, so I 
went all out. I was striving 
for success. I hadn't achieved 
it. 1 had achieved a success 
ful position, but I hadn't 
proved myself in it. Now I 
have—at least to my own 
satisfaction. Starting with 
Rosemary's Baby, The Odd 
(continued on page 256) 


RALPH NADER 


After his wars with G. M. 
et ol, Ralph Nader has de- 
cided to take on their strong- 
est and most inviolable ally: 
Congress. All these crusades 
have made him one of the 
most respected figures in the 
country—especially among 
the young—but success hasn't 
spoiled Nader, who is no- 
body's good-time Charley. He 
still lives in a rented room, 
takes the bus and has nothing 
but contempt for frivolous 
things like novels and movies. 
When you're saving the 
world, there's not a whole 
lot of time. 


OBVIOUSLY, there are many 
kinds of power—the power 
of parents over children and 
clerics over parishioners, for 
instance. What I'd like to de- 
scribe is the enormous power 
this country's largest political 
and economic institutions 
hold over all of us. By that I 
у the power of 
unions and the 
Federal Government to limit 
people's options and oppor- 
tunities, and even their ex- 
pectations; to change their 
behavior; to impose penal- 
ties on them; and to with- 
hold benefits and rights that 
should be theirs, 

In a complex society, most 
people fail even to grasp how 
power is being used against 
them, much less to do any- 
thing about it. How many 
consumers are aware that 
every time they pull into a 
service station they pay an 

(continued on page 294) 


ROBERT TOWNSEND 


In the world of big busi- 
ness, Robert Townsend is 
two things: а success and a 
wise ass. He used his own 
panache and one of Madison 
Avenue’s memorable slogans 
(“When You're Only Num- 
ber Two, You Try Harder”) 
to turn dismally stumping 
Avis into a profit maker. 
Then he quit and wrote a 
book, “Up the Organization,” 
that instructs others їп un- 
orthodox management. The 
book was a huge success— 
well, a huge seller; most ex- 
ecutives still have a secretary 
answer the phone. 


THE TROUBLE with power is 
that so few people really 
want it. Ninety-nine employ- 
ees out of 100 in large 
organizations are actually 
after, or will happily settle 
for, merely the trappings of 
power—the big office, lots of 
secretarial help to add to 
their problems, the limou- 
sine, the private parking 
place, the country-club mem. 
bership. If you've ever had 
these trappings, you know 
they don't provide much 
real satisfaction. A little, per- 
haps, but irs pretty shal- 
low, and what it does is 
interfere with the effective 
exercise of real power. Real 
power you get by becoming 
a servant of the people in 
your organization—not their 
master, insulated from them 
by as many hierarchical lay- 
ers as possible. Real power 
you get by walking among 

(continued on page 270) 


ILLUSTRATION BY ALEX EBEL 


MURRAY KEMPTON 


“As a columnist the no- 
blest of us all,” William F. 
Buckley, Jr, once wrote of 
Murray Kempton, а man 
with whom he shares few po- 
litical theories but a long 
record of iconoclasm. When 
Kempton appeared regularly 
in the New York Post, it was 
typical of him to defend Car- 
mine DeSapio against the 
raging reformers—also typi- 
cal for him to lose the battle. 
Kempton liked Mayor Wag- 
ner’s style, of all things, and 
defends the Mafia as “a 
league of small enterprisers 
in a declining industry.” 


If power tends to corrupt, the 
absence of power corrupis 
absolutely. 
—L.B J. advisor John 
Р. Roche, on Arthur 
Schlesinger, Jr. 


MY OWN VIEW, feeble like 
everything else about me, is 
that theories of power are 
more useful to the salesman 
than to the customer, being 
generally contrived as hustles 
by the powerless. Machiavel- 
lis The Prince remains the 
most admired treatise on 
power; and, naturally, it was 
the composition of an odd- 
jobman looking for a grant 
from the Medicis The Me 
didis were not impressed 
enough to hire Machiavelli, 
being so much too shrewd to 
need assistance from the low- 
er classes that, as time went 
on and they were pretty 
much down to no power of 

(continued on page 292) 


189 


that no true chefs existed any longer and 
that even at the finest restaurants, the 
food was just so much swill. “We'll end 
by starving,” he morosely predicted and, 
in fact, he himself had shed some of his 
corpulence, although he was still the si 
of two ordinary men. He announced his 
trip to Italy as a farewell tour—a fare- 
well not because he was aging but be- 
cause he was convinced that Italian 
Cooking was about to enter the regions 
of eternal darkness, under the pressure of 
commercialization and general ignorance, 
and he wanted to have one final taste of 
it. His friends had urged him not to go. 
If he wanted to enjoy his melanzane al 
funghetto and his zampone, why not go 
to an Italian restaurant in Paris? Mont- 
guise had been inflexible. It was one of 
his dicta diat good food did not travel. In 
order to obtain the full values of his 
melanzane, he would need to hunt it 
down in its native surroundings (prefer- 
ably, Calabria, while the zampone 
could be truly savored only in Modena. 
Eat Italian food in Paris? What non- 
sense! So, true to his principles, the duke 
had departed Paris on March third. 

“Someone should have gone with 
him,” said the Chevalier Dessoix uneasi- 
ly, when the month of April had come 
and gone with no word from the duke. 
“We should never have allowed him to 
go off alone.” But everyone knew tiat 
this would have been impossible. Mont- 
guise would not have permitted it. Good 
manners would have forced him to in- 
vite а traveling companion to his table, 
and this he could not abide. The pres 
ence of others at his meals he found 
noxious, for the aroma of the food they 
ordered interfered with his appreciation 
of his own. The exquisiteness of his 
gustatory apparatus had for some years 
required him to dine alone and in pri- 
vate rooms, and in these only after they 
had been thoroughly aired. Even then, 
the belch of a passer-by in the corridor 
might be enough to ruin everything, 

“At the very least we should have 
followed him," said Lord Harmsby 
(who had not permitted a morsel of his 
native British cooking to pass his lips 
for 60 years but was ‘still occasionally 
disturbed by childhood recollections of 
boiled cabbage). “We should have sent 
someone on his trail. Just think. What 
if —" He broke off, distraught, paling 
above his vichyssoise. His fellow diners 
manifested similar signs of concern. 
"They all knew the risks Montguise was 
running. Suppose he had been struck 
down by a treacherous cacciucco or laid 
low by an insidious fonduta napole- 
tana? Worse, suppose he had then fallen 
into the hands of Italian doctors and — 
horrible to contemplate—had been co 
190 fined to a bed in an Italian hospital, too 


PLAYBOY 


gourmet hunt (continued from page 181) 


enfeebled to resist the administration of 
greasy brodo and gluey risotto? 

“Ie isn't too late,” declared Comte 
DeSales, pushing aside his moules au 
beurre d'escargot untasted. "I'll go after 
him myself!" He rose to his feet, his 
wineglass held high, and the others rose 
with him, joining him in his pledge. 
They vowed to go. too—a round dozen 
of the greatest palates in Europe, all the 
way from the aged General Saint-Just- 
Robespierre, who needed two valets to 
lace him into his corsets each morning, 
to the young Earl O'Hara of Cork. Graf 
von Goethe-Weimar was among them, as 
was the Baron of Battipaglia, and also 
the ex-heir to а avian throne 
who had fled to Paris, a culinary exile, 
rather than reign and eat fish. There 
was a moment of solemn dedication. 
Then glasses were drained and smashed, 
hands were clasped, plans were made. 

The idea of requesting police assist- 
ance was rejected immediately. The po- 
lice were, first of all, incompetent. And 
then, suppose they found Montguise 
while he was at the table (a not unlikely 
possibility, as the duke spent the greater 
part of his waking hours in the exercise 
of his special genius)? The thought of 
that sublime digestive process’ being in- 
terrupted by a pair of rude carabinieri, 
reeking of onions and garlic, was too 
unsettling to be entertained. No, the 
search for the missing duke had to be 
undertaken solely by his fellow gourmets, 
as a matter not only of discretion but of 
tactics, too. What other body of men was 
so well fitted to detect his gastronomic 
wail through the hundreds upon hun- 
dreds of cities, towns and villages of the 


Robespierre thundered off in 
taking both valet, plus ample hampers 
of roast goose, chicken, fdiés, duck, 
wines, etc, prepared for the possibility 
of a lengthy campaign. Comte DeSales 
flew down in his two-seater plane. the 
Scandinavian prince tore away on his 
motorcycle and the Chevalier Dessoix 
and Colonel Mendoza de Cordoba jour- 
neyed together by train. Others went by 
car: Graf von Goethe-Weimar drove his 
Duesenberg, Lord Harmsby his Rolls, 
the Baron of Battipaglia his Ferrari and 
Prince Hapsburg-Hohenzollern his Mer- 
cedes, while the Laird of Forth and the 
Grand Duke of Smolensk chose a com- 
mercial airline. Earl O'Hara of Cork, 
temporarily short of funds, hitchhiked. 
It was at Bologna that they all reas 
sembled—or, rather, 11 of them did. for 
the Scandinavian prince was hors de 
combat, having misjudged a curve south 
of Lyons. Bologna had been chosen on 
the assumption that Montguise, а me- 
thodical man, would have begun his 


tour in the north, dining in a southerly 
direction, so by this time he undoubtedly 
would have eaten his way through Pic- 
monte, Lombardy and the Veneto. 

After a stupendous feast at a great 
Bolognese restaurant, the 11 gastro- 
nomes spread maps and guides on the 
table and plotted their next moves. The 
problems they faced were complex, for 
the territory to be covered was vast. It 
was, for instance, highly unlikely that 
the duke was simply proceeding from 
one provincial capital to the next. More 
probably, he was shunning them, on 
the assumption that the famous restau- 
rants there had been blighted by tourism. 
He might well be nosing his way along 
the secondary roads, stopping at humble 
trattorias in unspoiled villages. But, of 
course, there were dozens of such roads 
and scores of rustic eating places in 
Emilia-Romagna alone, and farther south 
lay many hundreds more. И was clear 
that the duke's friends would have to 
separate, each to follow a different 
route. Thus, maps were marked and 
distributed, schedules were agreed on 
and communications arrangements were 
made—all rather hazily, it must be ad- 
mitted, for the diners had washed down 
their pasticci di tortellini in pasta sfog 
liata and filetti di tacchino with wines 
somewhat more potent than those they 
were accustomed to (and, in fact, Graf 
von Gocthe-Weimar was forced to with 
draw altogether as а consequence of this 
s shipped by rail to 
Baden-Baden that night to begin a cure). 

The ten remaining epicures set off 
early the next morning on their various 
assigned lines of travel. Their method of 
ıquiry was relatively simple. At each 
likely looking osteria they came acros: 
they asked the proprietor if he had, 
recent weeks, been host to a rather well- 
upholstered and elderly French gentle- 
man with particular, not to say finicky, 
dining requirements. There were many 
false leads, for the Italians considered 
most Frenchmen to be in this category; 
but on May 11 the Tuscan town of 
Arezzo, Earl O'Hara of Cork (who had 
taken over the fallen Graf's Duesen- 
berg) learned that none other than 
Montguise himself had dined at a little 
hotel there a month before—or that he 
had sought to dine, for (as the story 
was recounted by the family that ran 
the place) the duke had по sooner ad- 
dressed himself to his capretto arrosto 
than his phenomenal nasopharyngeal 
equipment informed him that it had 
been cooked on charcoal produced from 
olive wood and not laurel, and he had 
leaped up in a fury and stormed out 

O'Hara of Cork communicated this 
news by telephone to General Saint- 
Just-Robespierre at Ancona, so that it 
could be recorded on the general’s master 
map. In return t-Just-Robespierre 

(continued on page 268) 


TRUCKIN 
WITH 
GRE ICFEN 


article By CRAIGVETTER 


“of course you're paranoid,” said 
the blue-eyed chicago lady who'd 
been busted, beat up and strung out 
on a variety of illegal chemicals. 
“Ps all that california sunshine” 


WHEN 1 FIRST MET CRETCHEN, in the win- 
ter of 1970, she was living in a Roscoe 
Street apartment on Chicagos North 
Side, just a few blocks from where Bugs 
Moran had lived many years before. She 
was in her salad days then: a tough and 
pre pharmacist who knew all of 

Chicago's joints and alleys and all the 
ways to spot cops. She was living with a 
guy she called the Chemist. 

Gretchen gave nicknan 
and the Chemist got his because, al- 
though the two of them dealt every kind 
of street drug, the house specialty— 
"Mothers own,” she called i 
pure-white Methedrine crystal that he 
manufactured in a jerry-built laboratory 
just off their bathroom. When business 
was good there was a lot of money, 
which. the Chemist would carry in a 
bunchy roll in his pocket. But it never 
lasted long, (continued on page 194) 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY CHUCK WOOD. 


“You can think of me 
as the spirit of 
Christmas yet to come.” 


THE VARGAS GIRL 


y = ‹ 
уо JE 5 


PLAYBOY 


TRUCKIN WITH GRETCHEN 


because he was his own best consumer 
of the speed and Gretchen pillered 
everything else out of their considerable 
stash, especially the downers, So every 
few months the Chemist would beat her 
and send her to work dancing topless or 
waiting tables to make the money they 
needed to live on and to buy chemicals 
with. She had just the last, [aded part 
of a black eye and had been on the job— 
serving drinks at Melvin’s—only two 
days when I met her. 

My own winter situation was not 
great, because Sharon had left me, and 
because I had spent only one other 
winter in Chicago and didn't under- 
stand yet how to dress for the cold or 
where to find friendly public places to 
get warm. Chicago is not a city that is 
proud of itself or sick of itself —like San 
Frandsco, where I am from, or New 
York, where 1 have been—and especially 
in the winter, the city hides itself. People 
on the streets hurry along under gray 
skies through the bitter wind to do the 
necessary only. People on buses are si- 
lent and seem to pass only colds and flu 
to each other, and when they do talk, it i: 
always about the weather, which in win- 
ter in Chicago is more important than 
religion or politics, or love even. 

1 was living with a friend, Wayne, 
sleeping on his sofa bed, but he had his 
hours and 1 had mine and we were 
together for drinks and long talks ошу 
now and then. So I had taken to walk- 
ing at night, trying out bars, and trying 
out different combinations of shirts and 
sweaters and jackets to keep warm. 
What I would find out this winter was 
that you cannot dress against Chicago's 
cold when it gets bad, any more than you 
can put on a turtleneck to keep out 
loneliness, which is something of what I 
was trying to do that night in Melvin's. 

Gretchen was 26—the right age for 
Melvin's hipsingles crowd—and pretty, 
but she was a bad fit among the other 
waitresses. They are mostly moonlight- 
ing stewardesses, which the North Side is 
full of, and there is a shyness, an awk- 
wardness about them as they move from 
table to table, in Mod pants and sweat- 
ers, without flight pins or bras. They 
worry and jabber among themselves 
about men—that Xerox salesman with 
the muttonchop sideburns and the 450 
Honda who promised when he left that 
morning that he would phone, but he 
hasn't somehow. 

Gretchen came through the crowd in 
red-cord pants that were a little too bag- 
gy (she said later she had shoplifted 
them) and a white swcater that wasn't 
quite clean, looking as if the last promise 
she had believed was something about 
seeing God on acid, somewhere back in 
the Sixties. And if there is a Midwestern 
face, it was hers: a light delicate com- 


194 plexion that saw che sun mostly through 


(continued from page 191) 


clouds; broad cheekbones, not high but 
thin, straight Scandinavian blonde 
and big eyes, blue. A prairie face 
just saved from looking innocent by red 
coke-burned nostrils and the shadow of 
blue under the right eye. 

1 ordered Scotch, and by the time she 
had delivered three, we had smiled at 
each other enough that she said, “How 
come you drink this stuff, anyway? It’s 
bad for you.” I told her it was a second 
choice and that I drank it because 1 
didn't know anybody in this town who 
could sell me marijuana in any greater 
quantity than a dime bag at a time, and 
that dime bags in the Midwest seemed 
to cost $20. “Twenty dollars?” she said. 
"You gotta be shopping at Marshall 
Field’s.” A few minutes later she was 
back to give me a check, and she sat 
down in the chair across from me to add 
the figures. I asked her when she got ой 
work and when she said four A.M., I 
asked if she wanted to go for coffee. She 
looked up at me as if I were something 
out of the Fifties (which 1 am, partly, 
and especially behind that much Scotch), 
but then she said, “Sure, why not?” 

When 1 picked her up, she gave me 
an umbrella that someone had left at a 
table, and as we went out onto State 
Street to look for a cab, she said, “You 
don't really drink coffee, do you? Let's 
go get high.” And then, before the cab 
could turn north on Lake Shore Drive 
toward Wayne's, she leaned through the 
partition and asked the driver if he 
minded us doing our heads as we rolled 
along. He was black, and said no, so 
Gretchen took a rumpled joint out of 
her purse and lit it. 

“Dynamite,” she said. "Jamaican 
gauge,” and she wasn’t lying. About half- 
way through the joint, my mind went 
onto something like daylightsaving timc. 
I asked her if she could get me some. 

"For you, anything.” she said. “Smack, 
if you dig it, coke, Demerol, Seconal, 
acid, mesc, THC, DMT, hash, Benzed- 
rine, pure Meth crystal, lots and lots of 
that and . . . what else is еге... ?” 

“Grass,” I said. 

"Ah, yes, 1 can get you this Jamaican 
stuff, or Panama red, or Acapulco gold, 
or Kansas green, or whatever you want, 
and I can get you enough to send you 
up for thirty days or thirty years, if you 
like.” Then she said that about the only 
things she couldn't get for me in quanti- 
ty, and at a good price. were booze and 
coffee. The cabdriver laughed and looked 
in his mirror at us. 

“I mostly want the grass,” I said. 
“Maybe some hash and some mescaline, 
that's all.” 

When I asked her what she was into, 
she told me, “Anything that gets man or 
animal high,” and when J asked her if 
she was strung out, she laughed. “Look,” 
she said, holding her arms the way doc- 


tors do after they've scrubbed, "no cavi- 
ties. I been using smack for three years, 
off and on, and I've never been hooked. 
It’s no problem if you're careful. I just 
don't use it often and 1 don't use much 
and I vary it with a lot of other stuff. 
1 was into downers heavy for a while, but 
now Fm just into everything. Modera- 
tion is the key. Besides, the junk we get 
in Chicago is only about twenty or thirty 
percent pure, which means you really 
have to work at it to get strung. You ever 
try smack?" 

“No,” 1 told her, trying hard to make 
it sound more like a decision than fear 
of the dark. 

“Do you want to?" 

"No . . . not right now, anyw: 

"Ever have your toes sucked: 

"No," I told her again, and whatever 
little-} look had crept onto my face 
made her laugh 

"You remind me of the priest my 
mother goes with." 

"Does your mother really go with a 
priest?” I asked. 

"Yes, she really does, and you really 

remind me of him, except that your hair 
is longer than his and he's a speed freak. 
Are you Catholic?" I told her that 1 had 
been for a long time. 
1 thought so," she said, "which re- 
minds me, I have to be home by eight 
this morning, because my old man 
doesn't like me out with Catholics . . . 
or Protestants or Jews or Hindus or 
atheists . . . but especially nor Catholics, 
because I used to be one, too. OK?” 

Over the rest of that early morning 
and through a gray sunrise, she told me 
she'd been busted three times, acquitted 
twice and was going to court on the 
third charge in about a month. All of 
the arrests were for simple possession. 
“Dumb,” she said and recited the law 
that made each invalid. And this last, 
she thought, was dumbest of all. She had 
been living in a hotel on Lincoln Ave- 
nue, and when the manager offered her 
a break on the rent if she would ball 
him, she told him to fuck off. When he 
told her he would call the police and tip 
them to her dealing, she told him the 
same thing, chrew him out and cleaned 
her room of all dope. Two narcs arrived 
that afternoon and made her sit for four 
hours while they searched. They wouldn't 
let her smoke or talk, she said, and 
when she asked if she could piss, they 
made her do it in the bathtub while one 
of them watched. “He said it was so I 
wouldn't flush evidence down the toilet, 
which was bullshit, because both of them 
had already felt me up and they knew 
1 didn't have anything on me except 
my own nice tits, Fucking perverts.” 
They found one joint and one Seconal 
in her purse and busted her, and she 
spent a night and a day in Cook County 
Jail before she made bond. She said 
jail wasn't too bad, except that they 

(continued on page 326) 


PLAYBOY'S 
CHRISTMAS 
GIFT GUIDE 


good things,in small packages and large, 
to make giving and getting a yule treat 


Maxibounty that comes in miniboxes: Clockwise from 12: Battery-powered orbital AM radio, by G. E., $21.95. Model 
BL camera with #/3.5 lens, built-in exposure meter, by Minox, $200, including carrying case. Six ozs. Royal Pub cologne, 
by Revion, $8. Anodized-metal chess set, by Hermes for Bonwit Teller, $325. Hand-cut crystal paperweight, from Playboy 
Products, $15. Chrome-plated paperweight, by Gucci, $19. Pendant in 18-kt. gald, by Aldo Cipullo, $650, on an 18- 
kt.-gold neck ring, $125, both from Cartier. I. D. bracelet in 18-kt. gold, from Cartier, $400, encircling enamel and 
gold-plated lighter, by Cartier for the Kenton Collection, $65. Sterling-silver Love Bond watch, by Corum, $360, 
atop a sterling-silver die paperweight, from Georg Jensen, $35. Sterling-silver grog cups, by Cartier, $55 each. jos 


DON AZUMA 


5 to make a great impression: Top row, left to right: Handmade sterling-silver punch set, from Art Fare, 

$2500. Corton! Key Touch-Tone telephone with intercom- and conference-network and music-on-hold systems, by Arcata 
Communications, from $185 a month on lease, is in front of a teak ice bucket, by I. D. G., $39.95. Pigskin cuff-link case 
with chrome trim, from Mark Cross, $115. Beoulieu super-8 camera with wide-angle 6—6ómm zoom lens, by Hervic 

196 Corporation, $999. Model 9100 reel-to-reel sound studio with stacked units, by Dokorder, $699.95. Center row, left 


pu иа 


fo right: Avonté № calor-TV with 25-diagonal-inch screen houses AM/FM and B-track deck, by Zenith, about $1300. 
Lucite bath scale, by Hanson, $15, above an S. Thomas Scorff-designed light sculpture, from Secret Sources, $225. Kinetic- 
sculpture timepiece, by Jules Worthington, $300. Canvos travel bag, by Gucci, about $175. Bottom row, left ta right: Aquarius 
4 speaker, by JBL, $1B6. Competition skis, by Hexcel, $235 a pair. Grovity-operated clock, by Gübelin, $9B0, in front of a 
Hanssen Qube planter, by Hanson, $8. Stereo system with AM/FM, B-track deck and two 8" speakers, by Llayds, $2B0. 


helicopter that's 30’ long and 8 %2’ high cames with a 400-hp engine and holds 23 
pecs by Hughes, $118,900. eon Espada coupe, with а V-12 350-hp 


eyes looked up at you from underneath 
and chilled your very soul. There was 
no word on what the guy was in for, no 
word at all. 

Svengali’s buddy was the ghoul, He 
was short, skinny, his head swollen to 
grotesque proportions, his chin pointed, 
his smile vapid, Ihe word was that he 
as in for digging up the grave of a fresh- 
ly buried young girl. He had been caught 
while masturbating over her corpse. 

Protests to Jones brought only shrugs. 
Jones and the chaplain figured we all 
needed to be rehabilitated. We were all 
the children of God. 


PLAYBOY 


(The thing is, man. You gotta join 
the choir. I mean. Fuck that church- 
attendance shit. Ain't nobody gonna git 
no goddamn parole that way. I mean. 
git to be one of the chaplain's very own 
boys. You gotia sing, man. You gotta 
make with them goddamn sounds clear 
to Tallahassee. You gotta make ‘em all 
believe it. The chaplain's gotta believe 
it. The governor's gotta believe it. But 
most of all, you gotta make that parole 
board fuckin’ well believe it. Man. You 
say you can sing a little? Why, you jes’ 
gonna hafta git up there in front of 
God and everybody and sing your ass 
clean off! And I mean—of!!) 

And so there L was, shaved, combed, 
holding my hymnbook, barely able to 
see when the little black dots went up 
and down. But the senator sang next to 
me and could read music very well, 
switching to baritone occasionally to 
help me out and then maybe joining the 
tenors on the other side. The senator 
was a redhead, thin and nervous and 
very talkative, with all the mannerisms 
of a fox squirrel high in an oak tree. He 
was an old-timer when it came to church 
choirs, as well as state politics, especially 
the pork-barrel and cracker varieties. Un- 
fortunately, he got himself sent up for 
groping a girl. He said it was a political 
frame to keep him from being re-elected. 
"The girl was eight. He got five years. 

Church services always began with a 
minor squabble right at the head of the 
stairs. Two convicts sat behind a table 
taking names for the attendance list, a 
pushing. jostling crowd very anxious 
about making absolutely certain that 
they were being recognized as Keeping a 
Good Record. The band was wearing its 
white shirts, its wide, flamboyant neck- 
ties, its stiff, starched white trustee 
pants. All of them chewed gum very 
rapidly, their eyes snapping, their faces 
a pale Benzedrex pink from the inhalers 
they broke open and the saturated cot- 
ton strips they swallowed with canteen 
coffee, The word was that the director 
of recreation kept them well supplied 
with inhalers. It maintained a high 

200 quality of music. 


IN FRONT OF GOO continued rom page 165) 


But the band was bored, too. The 
Sunday-night movie was where they let 
themselves go with the wildest of jazz 
But now the trumpets clarinets and 
saxophones had to behave themselves, 
the sousaphone the featured instrument, 
the hymns dutifully played, the sour 
notes slipped in with such artful deftness 
that there was almost a counterpoint lurk- 
ing in the piety, the theme of a barbarian 
horde camped just behind the cathedral. 

"The doxology. We lined up at the 
back of the auditorium, wearing red 
robes and black robes and white robes 
salvaged from churches of every denomi- 
nation and handed down to us by salva- 
tion groups and faith workers; ragged, 
unpressed, either too big or too little, 
Jones was the leader. He was an alcohol- 
ic doing his third jolt for passing bad 
checks, trying his best to dance his way 
through the bars and out into parole, 
cavorting and waving his arms and 
bending his knees with an enthused de- 
votion, closing his eyes and smiling rap- 
turously. But he always gave himself 
away. Already dry for over a year, booze 
was still written in his face. And there 
was that little step he made with his 
right foot аз he swooped and flapped 
with his arms in his desperation to be a 
winged angel, a mincing little something 
that always happened to his knee, a 
delicate fluuer in the spiral of his ankle. 
Jones was the only one left in the whole 
joint who didn't know that he was 
queer. He still thought he was a drunk. 

But we gave it all we had, holding 
that good old full note when Jones shot 
his hands up like a trathe cop, his lips 
pursed, his eyes bulging, picking up the 
tempo as his fists pistoned up and down, 
sweetening the tone as his palms and 
stiffened fingers swooped and spiraled 
like a flock of doves. 

And then it was onward, Christian 
soldiers. But we were broken up into 
isolated patrols, infiltrating our way up 
the aisles instead of marching in a body. 
‘The fakers were alone, without support, 
their voices quavering, weak, scared. 
An occasional part dominated, a bass 
sometimes steamboating up the channel 
all by himself. The chaplain encour- 
aged us from the lectern, singing loud 
and singing tough, his lips curled, the 
sacred words coming out of the side of 
his mouth in that role he always played 
of the gangster ing an actor doing 
an impersonation of James Cagney, who 
was in a movie about a prison chaplain. 
The senator and I usually marched to. 
gether. I never missed if he was singing 
baritone, but when he joined the tenors, 
1 sometimes forgot myself and went with 
him. Meanwhile, everyone was out of 
step and marching at a different speed. 
Eventually, we made our rendezvous at 
the pews. 


The chaplain growled at us "The ser 
mon came out like Al Capone. “Listen, 
youse guys. Cut out dat stealin' and all 
dat udder stuff. Ya got dat?" The chap- 
lain was а Baptist. But he was building 
an All Saints chapel across from the 
prison canteen, using state bricks and 
convict labor, hustling donations every. 
where. He was fond of wearing Roman 
Catholic collars, Episcopal bibs and 
robes and ribbons of every persuasion, 
his face bright red on certain inspired 
Sundays, his expression beatific, his head 
always bald. Other times he wore a 
simple business suit. Quite often he 
wore a clerical collar, tweed jacket, rid- 
ing breeches and knee-length, polished 
boots. 

So there I was. It was Sunday and I 
was in church, wondering what a decent, 
clean-cut atheist like me was doing in a 
place like this, On both sides of the 
auditorium, the walls were decorated 
with very large murals rendered in oil 
on canvas, The rumor was that the artist 
had worked on them for years and when 
he was finished, he got paroled. By the 
wildest of coincidences, the name of the 
painter was the same as that of the pris- 
on. He had signed them all—Railord. 

But all he had for models were pic- 
ture postcards. At the same time we were 
hearing all about those Ten Command- 
e were gawking at the encir- 
ns of alligators and Seminole 
Indians, orange groves, flamingos, waves 
and beaches, tropical moons with sil- 
houetted coconut palms, sunsets just be- 
yond the Spanish moss and the palmettos. 

“Youse guys might Cink you're smart 
or somethin’. Youse ain't smart. And 
listen to dis. You better git your minds 
right. Git yourself rehabilitated. Youse 
gotta put your faith in the Lord. And, 
like. Bask in his everlastin’ glory. For- 
ever and ever. Ya got dat?” 

But all eyes were wavering, The in- 
mates of the women's ward were coming 
up the stairs. Their uniforms were blue, 
each dress starched and ironed with bits 
of embroidery or lace added to collar or 
cuff. Some had high heels and stockings. 
One carried a flower. 

The freeman in charge was over 70, 
gaunt, stooped, extremely thin. He had 
no teeth, no neck, no muscle, He wore a 
straw hat. His pants were so large he 
held them up with wide suspenders, 
several inches of space between his belly 
and the waistband. His back was crook- 
ed and hunched and he used a cane. 
There were two large center sections of 
theater seats separated by a wide aisle. 
‘The women were brought in and seated 
in the rear section. They skipped the first 
row so the seats would provide cover and 
no one could look up their skirts. 

lt was strictly forbidden to signal or 
to communicate by word or gesture. 
It was even illegal to eyeball. Never- 
theless, the very last row of the front 

(continued on page 265) 


drawn to the 
scene of his occult 
novel, the author lives 
through its most terrifying episode 
quasi memoir 


By KINGSLEY AMIS 


4 
y "TT 
252315 
1 Cf 
EE, D 
Bi А 


ILLUSTRATION BY KU! 


iN FRONT OF GOO 
eyes IPN up at you from und 
and chilled your very soul. T) 
no word on what the guy wa 
word at all. 
Svengali’s buddy was 
was short, skinny, his, 
grotesque propor lj 


of recreation kept them well 
with inhalers. It maintained! 
200 quality of music. 


very odd experience I had a few 

months ago, not so as to enter- 
tain уой but because I think it 
raises some very basic questions 
about, you know, what life is all 
about and to what extent we run 
our own lives. Rather worrying 
questions. Anyway, what hap- 
pened was this: 

My wife and I had been staying 
the weekend with her uncle and 
aunt in Westmorland, near a place 
called Milntho: Both of us 
—Jane and I, that is—had things 
чо do in London on the Monday 
morning, and it’s a long drive 
from up there down to Barnet, 
where we live, even though a good 
half of it is on the M6. So I said, 
Look, don’t let's break our necks 
trying to get home in the light 
(this was in August), let’s take 
it easy and stop somewhere for 


[-- ТО TELL YOU about a 


dinner and reckon to get home 
about half past ten or eleven. Jane 
said OK. 

So we left Milnthorpe in the 
middle of the afternoon, took 
things fairly easily and ended up 
about half past seven or a quarter 
to eight at the . . . the place we'd 
picked out of one of the food 
guides before we started. I won't 
tell you the name of the place, 
because the people who rum it 
wouldn't thank me if I did. Please 
don't go looking for it, I'd advise 
you not to. 

Anyway, we parked the car in 
the yard and went inside. It was 
a nice-looking sort of place, pretty 
old, built a good time ago, I mean, 
done up in a sensible sort of way, 
no Muzak and no bloody silly 
blacked-out lighting, but no olde- 
worlde nonsense, either. 

Well, I got us both a drink in 


74%) 


ЕЕ 


the bar and went off to see about a 
table for dinner. I soon found the right 
chap and he said, Fine, table for two in 
half an hour, certainly, sir, are you in 
the bar, I'll get someone to bring you 
the menu in a few minutes. Pleasant sort 
of chap, a bit young for the job. 

I was just going off when a sort of 
paunchy business type came in and said 
something about, Mr. Allington not in 
tonight? and the young fellow said, No, 
sir, he's taken the evening off. All right, 
never mind. 

Well, I'll tell you why in a minute, 
but I turned back to the young fellow, 
said, Excuse me, but is your name Pal- 
mer? and he said, Yes, sir, and I said, 
Not David Palmer, by any chance? and 
he said, No, sir; actually, the name's 
George. I said, or rather burbled, A 
friend of mine was telling me about this 
place, said he'd stayed here, liked it 
very much, mentioned you; anyway, 1 
got half the name right, and Mr. Allin, 
ton is the proprietor, isn't he? That's 
correct, sir, he said. Sec you later and 
all that. 

I went straight back to the bar, went 
up to the barman and Fred? and 
he said, Yes, sir. I said, Fred Soames? 
and he said, Fred Browning, sir. I just 

id, Wrong Fred, not very polite, but it 

was all I could think of. I went over to 
where my wife was sitting and I'd hardly 
sat down before she asked, What's the 
matter? 

What was the matter calls tor a bıt 
of explanation. In 1969. I published a 
novel called The Green Man, which was 
not only the title of the book but also 
the name of a sort of classy pub, or inn, 
where most of the action took place, 
very much the kind of establishment we 
were in that evening. 

Now, the landlord of The Green Man 
was called Allington, and his deputy was 
called David Palmer, and the barman 
was called Fred Soames. Allington is a 
very uncommon name—I wanted that 
for reasons having nothing to do with 
this story. The two others aren't, but to 
have got Palmer and Fred right, so to 
speak, as well as Allington, was a thump- 
ing great coincidence, staggering, in fact. 
But I wasn't just staggered, I was very 
alarmed. Because The Green Man wasn't. 
only the name of the pub in my book; 
it was also the name of a frightening 
creature, a sort of solid ghost conjured 
up out of tree branches and leaves, and 
so on, that very nearly kills Allington 
and his young daughter. I didn't want 
to find I was right about that, too. 

Jane was very sensible, as always, She 
said stranger coincidences had happened 
and had still been just coincidences, and 
mightn't I have come across an innkeep- 
er called Allington somewhere, half for- 
gotten about it and brought it up out of 
my unconscious mind when I was look- 
ing for a name for an innkeeper to put 

204 in the book, and now the real Alling- 


PLAYBOY 


ton’s moved from wherever I'd seen him 
before to this place. And Palmer and 
Fred really are very common names. And 
I'd got the name of the pub wrong. I'm 
still not telling you what it's called, buc 
one of the things it isn't called is The 
Green Man. And my pub was in Hert- 
fordshire and this place was . . . off the 
М6. All very reasonable and reassuring. 

Only 1 wasn't very reassured, I mean, 1 
obviously couldn't just leave it there. 
The thing to do was get hold of this 
chap Palmer and see if there was, well, 
any more to come. Which was going to 
be tricky if I wasn't going to look nosy 
or mad or something else that would 
shut him up. Neither of us ate much at 
dinner, though there was nothing wrong 
with the food. We didn't say much, 
either. 1 drank a fair amount. 

‘Then, halfway through, Palmer turned 
up to do his cverything-all-right routine, 
as I'd hoped he would, and as he would 
have done in my book. I said yes, it was 
fine, thanks, and then I asked him, 1 
said we'd be very pleased if he'd join us 
for a brandy afterward if he'd got time, 
and he said he'd be delighted. Jolly 
good, but 1 was still stuck with this 
problem of how to dress the thing up. 

Jane had said earlier on, why didn't I 
just tell the truth, and Га said, since 
Palmer hadn't reacted at all when I gave 
him my name when I was booking the 
table—see what I mean?—he'd only 
have my word for the whole story and 
might still think I was off my rocker, 
and she'd said of course she'd back me 
up, and I'd said he'd just think he'd got 
two loonies on his hands instead of one. 
Anyway. nou she said. Some people 
who've read The Green Man must have 
mentioned it—fancy that, Mr. Palmer, 
you and Mr. Allington and Fred are all 
in a book by somebody called Kingsley 
Amis. Obvious enough, when you think 
of it, but, like a lot of obvious things, you 
have got to think of it. 

Well, that was the line I took when 
Palmer rolled up for his brandy, I'm me 
and I wrote this book, and so on. Oh, 
really? he said, more or les. I thought 
we were buggered, but then he said, Oh, 
yes, now you mention it, I do remember 
some chap saying something like that, 
but it must have been two or three years 
ago—you know, as if that stopped it 
counting for much. I'm not much of a 
reader, you see, he said. 

So. What about Mr. Allington, I said, 
doesn't he read? Not what you'd call a 
reader, he said. Well, that was one down 
to me, or one up, depending on how 
you look at it, because my Allington was 
а tremendous reader, French poetry and 
all that. Still, the approach had worked 
after a fashion, and Palmer very decent- 
ly put up ing cross questioned on 
how far this place corresponded with my 
place, in the book. 

Was Mrs. Allington blonde? There 
wasn't a Mrs. Allington anymore; she'd 


died of leukemia quite a long time ago. 
Had he got his widowed father living 
here? (Allington’s father, that is.) No, 
Mr. Allington, Sr., and his wife lived in 
Eastbourne. Was the house, the pub, 
haunted at all? Not as far as Palmer 
knew, and he'd been there three years. 
In fact, the place was only about 200 
years old, which completely clobbered a 
good half of my novel, where the ghosts 
had been hard at it more than 100 years 
earlier still. 

Nearly all of it was like that. Of 
course, there were some questions I 
couldn’t ask, for one reason or another. 
For instance, was Allington a boozer, 
like my Allington, and, even more so, 
had this Allington had a visit from 
God? In the book, God turns up in the 
form of a young man to give Allington 
some tips on how to deal with the 
ghosts, who He, God, thinks are a 
menace to him. No point in going any 
further into that part. 

I said nearly all the answers Palmer 
gave me were straight negatives. One 
wasn't, or rather, there were two points 
where | scored, so to speak. One was 
that Allington had a 15-year-old daugh- 
ter called Marilyn living in the house. 
My Allington’s daughter was 13 and 
called Amy, but I'd come somewhere 
near the mark—too near for comfort. 

‘The other thing was a bit harder to tie 
down. When I'm writing a novel, I very 
rarely have any sort of mental picture of 
any of the characters, what they actually 
look like. I think a lot of novelists 
would say the same. But, I don’t know 
why, I'd had a very dear image of what 
my chap David Palmer looked like, and 
now I'd had a really good look at George 
Palmer, this one here, he was nearly the 
same as I'd imagined, not so tall, differ- 
ent nose, but still nearly the same. I 
didn’t care for that. 

Palmer, George Palmer, said he had 
things to see to and took off. I told Jane 
what I've just told you, about the re- 
semblance. She said I could easily have 
imagined that, and I said I suppose I 
might. Anyway, she said, what do you 
think of it all? 

I said it could still all be coincidence. 
What could it be if it isn't coincidence? 
she asked. Га been wondering about 
that while we were talking to Palmer. 
Not an easy one. Feeling a complete 
bloody fool, I said I thought we could 
have strayed into some kind of parallel 
world that slightly resembles the world 
1 made up, you know, like in a science- 
fiction story. 

She didn't laugh or back away. She 
looked round and spotted a newspaper 
someone had left on one of the chairs. It 
was that days Sunday Telegraph. She 
said, If where we are is a world that's 
parallel to the real world, it's bound to 
be different from the real world in all 
sorts of ways. Now, you read most of the 

(continued on page 310) 


Soto, 


“Now I begin to understand how they got them built.” 


AN М » 


FRESH FACES: Among Hollywood's 
current crop of promising hopefuls 
are (clockwise from right) Brenda 
Sykes, who was viewed this year 
in Honky, The Skin Game and Black 
Gunn; Angel Tompkins (Prime 
Cut); Valerie Perrine, who made a 
propitious movie debut in Slaugh- 
terhouse-Five; Tiffany Bolling, anun- 
expected hit in last year's Marriage. 
of a Young Stockbroker who went on 
to star in 1972's Bonnie's Kids; 
and Victoria Principal, who landed 
the meaty role of Paul Newman's 
mistress in The Life and Times of 
Judge Roy Bean and will play the 
female lead in Playboy Produc- 
tions’ version of Desmond Morris’ 
book The Naked Ape, which is 
slated for release early next year. 


GREAT EXPECTATIONS: The critics are predicting 
prosperous days ahead for the lucky seven on 
this page (clockwise from above): Timothy Bot- 
toms, the bashful adolescent of The Last Picture 
Show; Jon Finch, who played the title role in 
Roman Polanski's Playboy Productions mounting 
of Macbeth and reappeared in Hitchcock's Frenzy; 
Edward Albert, of Butterflies Are Free; Stacy Keach, 
who triple-threats in Fat City, The New Centurions 
and The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean; Caba- 
ret's Michael York, now filming Lost Horizon; Ron 
O'Neal, the narcotics peddler of Super Fly; and 
Ron Leibman of Slaughterhouse-Five and Hot Rock. 


STANDARD BARERS: The threesome at far left, 
hardy perennials all, are renowned less for 
histrionic than anatomic contributions to film. 
From the top, they're Jill St. John, Sean Con- 
nery’s love interest in Diamonds Are Forever, 
Joey Heatherton, one of Richard Burton's in 
this shot from Bluebeard; and Stella Stevens, a 
Playmate who rose to semistardom, seen this 
year in Slaughter (with Jim Brown) and The 
Poseidon Adventure (with Gene Hackman). 
DOWAGER EMPRESSES: Aging—but still com- 
pelling—screen presences are Elizabeth Taylor 
and Sophia Loren (near left). Liz made X, Ү & 
Zee and Hammersmith Is Out in '72; Sophia 
filmed Mortadella and—here—Man of LaMancha. 


THE OLD GUARD: Although newer faces are 
coming up, nobody's counting out these well- 
seasoned leading men. Clockwise from above 
are Paul Newman, who shared billing with Lee 
Marvin in Pocket Money and plays the title role 
in The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean; Steve 
McQueen, who played an aging rodeo cowboy 
in Junior Bonner and then won the offscreen 
affections of co-star Ali MacGraw while filming 
The Getaway; Sean Connery, who went back 
to Bondage with Diamonds Are Forever; Harry 
Belafonte and Sidney Poitier, in dual harness 
for Buck and the Preacher, James Coburn, 
as he appeared (with Rod Steiger) in Duck, 
You Sucker; and The Hospital's George C. Scott. 


PAINTINGS BY CHRISTINA RAMBERG 


LOVE LINES 


two poems 


By LAWRENCE DURRELL 


SPRING SONG 


My lovely left-handed lover 
Will be riding down from Geneva 
On the afternoon Catalan bound for Barcelona. 
I'll catch her all honeygold at Nimes 
And embrace her on behalf of the city council, 
On behalf of Apollinaire, on behalf of Lou. 
Ah, Lou, Lou, she is somewhat like you. 
My lovely slowcoach, come, I'll teach you. 
The Geneva train is faster than a river. 
| am no laborious and insipid drone, 
But an Irish poet, and thus perfectible. 
Together we will submit 
To the mesmerism of objects 
Painted or hewn—and without too much cheating. 
And all this nonsense about women's liberation 
Will fade into the fifty-fifty of kisses shared. 
Let us be enemies of intellectual coziness. 
Every embrace is an empirical exchange of vitamins. 
Your last postcard from the dark lake read: 

“Se réaliser? Oui. Mais comment? 

Darling, | am buying a clockwork mouse 

To show my independence from men. 

Signed: А REAL WOMAN," 

Perhaps now do you see why? 


HEY, MISTER, THERE'S A BULGE 
IN YOUR COMPUTER 


How loud the perfume of common gin 

How morose the pigment that covers a lipid 
How soft the equal gauze of quits 

How purple the pits of amazing berries 
How snuff the cough of the rough shark 


Your sake, my sake, his sake, her sake 
Everyone is entitled to one sake. 


two poems 


By ROBERT GRAVES 


THE NOOSE 
This is my own clear voice: 
Sweetheart, keep faith with me. 
A noose hangs from the rope; 
1 do not bring blind hope 
But love in certainty. 
Choose, for you have no choice: 
Sweetheart, stand fast by me. 


HER BEAUTY 


Let me put on record for posterity 

The uniqueness of her beauty: 

Her black eyes fixed unblinking on my own, 
Cascading hair, high breasts, firm nose, 
Soft mouth and dancer's toes. 


Which is, | grant, cautious concealment 

Of a new Muse by the Immortals sent 

For me to honor worthily— 

Her eyes brimming with tears of more than love, 
Her lips gentle, moving secretly— 


And she is also the dark hidden bride 

Whose beauty | invoke for lost sleep: 

To last the whole night through without 
dreaming—so 

Even when waking is to wake in pain 

And summon her to grant me sleep again. 


PLAYBOY 


MEDEN NE. continue om page 153) 


inked her. 


sell herself,” she rev 
a whore in а doorway, "you know you 

are in a county suffering repression.” 
y defense against Madame’s senten- 
tiousncss thereafter was to load my cam- 
me we approached a woman 
doorway. "This simple action 
provoked such resentment in Madame 
that an intense passion for photography 
was awakened in me: a passion so pure 
that I would aim and click my camera 
even when it held no film, Women in 
doorways didn't care for this move, either. 
"For your being a citizen of 
of exploiters you are not to bc held 
gether to blame,” Madame allowed, * 
k rately point 


п merely adding insult 
collaboration with the 


to injury. 
makers of the camera 

“The people doing the exploitin; 
around here are citizens of France,” 1 
had to remind her. "When we get to 
Guatemala, you take the camera." 

Now we were sitting in the dining 
room of the Hotel Tunisia Palace. Bor- 
tes along the bar were still shadowed 
by the night just done. Bored beggars 
waited beyond the door. Overhead a 

iling fan kept rising a decibel in hope, 
n descending in a clattering fall as 
ppointed in everything. 

We had to go to Matmata because 
troglodytes lived there, Had no one ever 
heard of a troglodyte anywhere near 
Matmata, there would have been no 
excuse for anyone's ever going there. 
(ОГ course, it was my feeling that since 
an entire colony of the little mole peaple 
had been sı ng there beneath the 
surface of the carth for immemorial Afri- 
can ages, that was all the more reason for 
staying away, 

A portly young Ai ring a СІ 
fatigue cap sat at the bar, but he wasn't 
ng. He was either sizing us up or 
fez. 
y of demanding fide ity 
p reducible to а physio- 


“The absurd 
in a relationsh 


chemical reaction has now become 
clear,” Madame shifted from colonialism 
0 without interrupting | herself. 


“Therefore, complete fidelity сап be ex- 
perienced only by those who 
upon themselves i 
who are faithful can only compe 
themselves by sublin г by drink. 
“Sweeping the floor might help," I 
suggested; but since Madame had never 
held a broom, the concept remained 
existential. 
Many couples conclude more or less 
the same pact as Sartre and myself, but 
Sartre and I have been more ambitious,” 


222 she continued congratulating herself. 


“We seck to maintain through all devia- 
tions a certain fidelity. 

Recent. experime ihenogen- 
esis have disclosed that the egg may be 
penetrated by an ordinary safety pin 
and artificially fertilized. The male gam- 
ete is not necessary for reproduction.” 
That'll be the day. 

Where had we gone wrong? The or 
al understanding had been that she 


could make long speeches if she'd let me 
I'd make the jokes if she'd 
abs. I'd look the other way 


find the bars. 
pick up the 
while she was destroying bread if she'd 
only let me photograph camels. Arabs 
wouldn't interfere so long as you stuck 
to aiming at camels. But the man atop 
the camel would let vou know that he 
wasn't to be photographed. 

This wasn’t a superstitious fear that 
you were going to catch his soul in a 
Jütle black box and stick pins in it. It 
was a religious conviction: "Ye shall make 
you no idols, neither shall yc rear you 
up a graven image" God commanded 
iL and man is made in the image of 
God. There you have it. And if it 
sounds like Jehovah and Leviticus to 
you, it sounds more like Allah and Mo- 
hammed to the camel driver. 

1 spent one whole morning photo- 
graphing camels only to discover that 
the camera had held no film. I was 
certain I had loaded it and suspected 
foul play. I immediately bei ng 
all che bread in sight. Madame began 
puing the skin off her forearms with her 
fingernails. I gave her back the bread 
She had stopped laughing at the jokes 
but was still picking up the tabs. 

I might have attributed this to the 
fact that she had no sense of humor. 
Ou the other hand, the jokes weren't 
funny. ‘The real dificulty, it struck me, 
was that her sense of personal responsi- 
ty for the world had overwhelmed her 

ss to it. 

The fae of the Western world, she 
assumed, hung upon the decisions of 
Jean-Paul Sartre. But since Sartre him- 
le no such assumption, the full 
bility, not only for that world 
Sartre as well, had devolved 


but for 
upon herself. 

For Sartre perceived the wor 
clown show in which his own pr 
appeared as absurd as those of everyone 
else, The more profound his judgments, 
the more lightly he held them. 

It never crossed. Madame's mind that 
her love life might not be a matter of 
global concern. Sartre took. for granted 
the world’s indifference to his love lif 
Judging by some of the women he slept 
with, he was indifferent to it as well. 

“A hero of the Resistance is thinking 
of cutting in on us,” 1 gave Madame 
warning, but the overhead fan set up 
such a clatter that she didn't hear. Al- 
though she wouldn't have heard even if 


the 


fan had come to a dead stop. 
DE course,” she pointed out, "it is 
Iways possible that one of the new 
partners, or allies, may prefer а new at- 
tachment to the old. But this presents no 
difficulty as long as neither ally permits 


the new one to become permanent.” 


She was trying to tell me somet 
"Or is it your point of view," she 
charged. in hope of an argument, "that 
freedom can. come trough fidelity?” 
Heaven forbid!” 1 disclaimed the 
accusation. “I was only wondering what 
would happen if only one ally proved 
unfaithful. Would mean they'd 
both have to stay drunk all day 
“Every effort to free oneself entails 
she warned, "so let not my words 
be taken to imply more than they say.” 
It came to me then that she wasn't 
rela 


able to sever our 


municate me. 

I was relieved to scc that the Arab. 
was finally making his move. He 
proached with a grave, deliberate mien, 
touched his cap to Madame, then turned 
his back upon her; and handed me a 
snapshot of a French soldier holding it 
telephone to his car. 

"Hasine Ameur Djemail, he intro- 
duced himself in French-accented English, 
псе call Paris- Tunis. 
he exchanged 
Has- 
inc before garage of fastest automobile 
in Djerba. Two suits in garage." 
changed photographs once more. 
lassine Ameur Djemail before Tour 
еһе paused courteously to gi 
chance to top that. Then accepted 
the chair I offered him. 

Madame drew a big bright 
Tunisia from her puse and 
oblivious of everyone. 

“Of what government 
me. 

“American.” 

"OI what government in Ame 

"Of Chicago.” 

“Do you have oil for соо 
Chicago?” 

“We have oil for cooking 

“Do you have flour in Chi 

“We have flour in Chicago.” 

“Do you have eggs in Chicago?” 

“We have eggs in Chicago. 

“Then we are rich! You will write to 
the governor of Chicago that Hassine 
comes to make brik.” He slapped me 
heartily on the shoulder. "I will sell this 
car and use yours to carry the Chicago 
eggs, the Chicago flour and the Chicago 
cooking oil to the igo cooking pot!" 

1 caught a fast flash of myself stirring 
a caldron of simmering oil in the lobby 
of the Civic Theater while Hassine passed 
among opera buffs, during an intermis 
sion of Tosca, peddling pastries wrapped 
in palm leaves. 

i no car" I tried to weasel 

(continued on page 234) 


map of 


Hassi 


hica 


“You'd better have a long white beard aud go ‘Ho, ho, ho, buddy, 
or there's going lo be hell lo pay around here!” 


223 


saving a soul 


SOMETHING IN "THE AIR, the water, the 
natural surroundings—whatever it may 
be, the town of Siena is well known for 
producing dunderheads and braggarts 
among its men and abundant beauties 
mong its women. Some apologists I 
now have explained that it isn't so 
much that Sienese men are naturally 
stupid—it’s simply that the sons are 
careful to imitate the fathers in order 
not to be taken for bastards. As for the 
charms of the women, that is God's 
and is not to be questioned. In 
any case, with these two natural phe- 
nomena side by side, Siena has gener- 
ated a tale or two. 

For instance, there was the case of 
Giacoppo Belanti, à true booby som of 
his town, a fat and prosperous merchant 
of 40 years. He had married a young 
woman named Cassandra who bore out 
the female tradition of the town in her 
darkeyed, voluptuous way. 

To supply the missing piece to this 
picture, there was a handsome young 
Florentine named Francesco who had 
been studying in Siena, He һай met the 
couple and had fallen extravagantly in 
love with the lady. 

For her part, she hovered on the bor- 
der between yes and no for many 
months. She inclined, but she did not 
fall: she grew Пот. but she did not 
kindle; she touched the apple, but she 
did not eat. She sighed for Francesco, 
but some concern for her honor and 
some fear of the watchful jealousy of 
Giacoppo made her hesitate, From the 
warmth of her smile, Francesco knew 
that the second was the real problem 
He set himself to solve it by means of 
wue Florentine wit. 

Soon it became known about town 
that Francesco’s rich and influential rel- 
atives at home had arranged a marriage 
for him. Many people came to congratu- 
late Francesco, but his heartiest well- 
wisher was Giacoppo Belanti, who felt a 
sense of relie at the thought of Frances- 
co safely married and living in Florence 

“As for that,” said Francesco, "I am 
reluctant to leave Siena ший I hav 
received my doctorate, 1 think that I 
shall bring my lady here. Friend Giacop- 
po, is there not a comfortable house to 

let just two streets from your own? I 
believe that I've remarked such a one.” 
The house was, indeed, available and 
Francesco spoke for it. The following 
day, he left for Florence to be married. 
When he arrived, he went directly to 
the quarter called Borgo Stella and 
sought out Bartolomea—popularly called 
Meina—who was admired аз the most 
lovely, charming, ladylike, cultiv 
clever and talented whore in all of Flor- 
ence. She was intrigued by the stra 
Francesco described to her and tempted 
by the sum of gold he offered. A week lat- 
224 єт, Francesco brought his supposed bride 


blessir 


and a finc entourage of servants to the 
house in Sicna. 

Bartolomea—as she called herself now 
for both protection and decorum—was 
immediately taken up by the gentlewom- 
сп of Siena, who noted her genteel man- 
ners and her excellent moral tone. For 
good reason, however, Francesco made 
sure that she did not meet his friends of 
the Belanti family. 

He had tutored Bartolomea carefully 
in his plan, the first step of which had 
her, looking her most lovely, appear at a 
window just as Сіасорро was passing 
on a business errand. He noticed her 
The next day, she was just stepping 
onto the baleony as he went by. Then, 
few days later, he ventured an admiring 
look at her and she smiled slowly and 
sensuously back at him. A mad desire 
for ripe figs arose in Giacoppo's heart— 
although it was long past the season. 

He said to himself, “This is interest- 
ing сезсо, a young and handsome 
man, courted my wile for « long time 
without ever getting a warm look from 
her. Here am I, an old man—though 
one commanding plenty of respect, 1 
fancy—already winning a smile from 
this pretty bride of his. It may be that 
Francesco is like Mainardo’s dog, who 
leaped to bite buc was bitten first.” 

Spurred on as much by vanity as by 
desire, Giacoppo began to pass Frances- 
ws house quite fequcenüy, gathering 
several more smiles and even—could it 
possibly be?—a sigh or two. In the tav- 
ern, he said to some young men he 
knew, “The truth of the matter is that 
experienced men really understand the 

. You young chaps spend all your 
time standing around wishing and 
ing, whereas I, gray-headed though I be, 
not long ago got into a little adventure 
of a sort you'd pay with your eyes to 
have. ... But, enough said.” 
oppo passed by again and again 
and the lady smiled until she was weary. 
He couldn't seem to invent any way of 
getting coser to her, and so at last she 
had one of her maids carry an epistle to 
him. It said that she feared she might 
die of love lor him, that a madness 
burned in her heart when she saw 
face, that she feared that he had cast 
a spell over her, etc. Giacoppo nearly 
burst with joy to read all this and sent 
back an even more preposterous reply. 

At last she gave him a rendezvous for 
а certain nig ng that Frances 
со had gone olf to a country estate with 
friends. To Giacoppo it seemed a thou- 
sand years before the appointed time 
nd at least another century while 
he was made to wait in Bartolomca's 
chamber until the servants seed down 
for the night. 

But when they were at list together, 
Giacoppo found himself cast into a tem- 
pest such as he'd never dreamed. Bartolo 


mea was a stormy paramour when she 
had dropped her manners, with her 
silks, to the floor. She locked her arms 
and legs around him; she rolled her eyes 
wildly; strange sounds of passion came 
from her throat; she engulfed him; she 
scratched his face and bit him so hard 
that she left marks. Giacoppo, confused 
and exalted, thought that hed discov- 
ered at last what love is. He thought 
that he was touching heaven with the 
end of his membe 

Bartolomea pretended to marvel at 
his powers and demanded yet another 
joust. When poor Giacoppo was nearly 
at the end of his strength, she finally 
allowed him to rise and return home, 
bitten, battered, more dead than alive 
Cassandra, on instruction from Frances 
со, awaited him in tears, She displayed 
horrified suspicion at the lateness of his 
return and the red scratches across his 


а novella by Lorenzo de’ Medici, “The Magnificent" (1449-1492) 


At last, in order to comfort her, he 
1 to take her to bed and fight one 
tle of love In the course of a 
night, Giacoppo had spent more cnergy 
than he could usually muster im the 
course of a year. 

Thus it went for several weeks. One 
day. at the approach of Lent. 
mea put on a solemn face 
that they break off their af 
Wednesday to Easter. “It will be hard 
for me,” she said, “but this is a time to 
concern ourselves with our souls.” She 
knew that Giacoppo had not been to 
confession since their first night together 
and this was meant to remind him. He 
nodded soberly and agreed. Possibly his 
diminishing vitality and the increasing 
soreness of his bites and scratches had 
something to do with it. He set off to se 
Fra Antonio della Marca, the Franciscan 
friar who was his confessor. 


Bartolo- 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY BRAD HOLLAND 


Now, Fra Antonio loved a good joke 
and, just the weck previous. his good 
friend Francesco had forewarned him 
and had suggested a quite humorous 
way to deal with Giacoppo. The friar 
began the customary questioning and 
finally worked through to the sin of 
lechery. 

“Alas, I have used my powers of per- 
sonal attraction to seduce the innocent 
wife of a friend,” said Giacoppo, and he 
outlined the affair 

Growing very stern, Fra Antonio re- 
plied, “There are some sins so diabolical 
that they cannot be absolved. Not by 
me, not by the Pope, not even by Saint 
Peter, should he suddenly come back to 
earth, 

Giacoppo was beginning to sweat and 
despair at this, “But I've been told that 
no sin is too great for forgiveness if the 
sinner truly repents,” he protested. 

Well" said the friar, “if you really 
want to talk of drastic measures, there 
docs happen to be a penance for this 
particular crime of yours—but 1 haven't 
mentioned it, because it’s really quite 
harsh. No, I'm afraid you'd better resign. 
yourself to the second circle of hell." 

Gincoppo was aghast, “Tell me,” he 
groaned, "I love my soul more than 
anything else in the world.’ 

“IL you insist,” said the friar, “very 
well. Sins of unjust possesion can be 
1 only after full кемиши 
Thus, you have stolen the honor of this 
young woman and you must give back 
something equal belonging to you. But 
how? We read that King David commit 
ted the sin of adultery aud then repent- 
ed. To make amends, he lent his own 
wife to the husband he had wronged; 
thus was the king pardoned. So you scc 
what you must do. Thereafter, I com- 
mand you to make a pilgrimage to Rome 
for the atonement of this and your other 
sins.” 

Giacoppo thought to himself: It’s I 
who is turning out to be Mainardo's 
dog. But he said aloud, "If a great king 
can humble himself so, I can do the 


parde 


same to save my poor soul from da 
and he bem his head for the 

r's benediction 
Sick at heart (d sore in his con- 


се, Giacoppo sought out Francesco. 
When they met, the young man had to 
make a great effort to keep a straight 
face and to boule up his laughter, be- 
cause Giacoppo looked so woeful. 
Francesco, you have always beem as 
r to me as if you were my own son. 
Now I have come to confess that, out of 
sinfulness and. passion. I have done you 
a great injury. I have prayed to Our 
Lord to forgi у you to 
pardon me like: He threw himself 
onto his knees and wept 
“Come, friend," said Francesco, "I can 
imagine no injury so grave that I ca 


dea 


e me and ] pra 


iot 


Ribald Classic 


forgive you. Pray, stand up: you have 
my pardon.” 
When Giacoppo told the tale of his 
air with Bartolomea, the young man 
gave a dramatic performance —astoi 
ment followed by shock succeeded by 
anger and then a gradual. resignation— 
worthy of the greatest actor. At last, in a 
broken voice, he repeated his pardon. 
“But one more great favor," Giacoppo 
said. "You must help me obtain my 
pardon from God.” He went on to ex 
plain how Francesco must now do unto 
Cassandra as Giacoppo had done unto 
Bartolomea so many times. 
ncesco drew back in 


horror. “I 


e you, but I did not promise to 
become a betrayer as well 
no betrayal,” said Giacoppo. “I 


implore you to do it as restitution and 
to save my soul from hell.” In the end 
Francesco appeared to be moved to 
agree if Fra Antonio placed no objec 
п. He went away with a happy heart 
—and no intention of testing the friar's 
conscience further. Giacoppo went home 
for a difficult interview with his wile. 

He entered the house weeping and 
lamenting. Cassandra, who had been a 
licipating something of the sort, flew to 
him at once and demanded to know his 
trouble. “I am damned to eternal tor 
ment,” he said. In a broken voice, he 
went on to explain the situation, 

With considerable effort and the aid 
of a hidden onion, Cassandra's tears 
n to flow. "Is there no way to save 


you? 

“Only you can "he said 
in a woeful tone, he told her how. 

She gave a little scream and sobbed 
that she could never commit such 
ful deed. It was only after Giacoppo 
had wailed and pleaded and had beaten 
his forehead against the floor—and only 
when Cassindra knew that her belly 
would burst with laughter if she sup- 
pressed it amy longer—that she reluc 
atly agreed to his petition. 

That night an abundant and delicious 
dinner for three was served in Giacop- 
pos house. Cassandra and Francesco 
appeared sad and downcast at table, hard- 
ly daring to look ach other. But 
Giacoppo, thinking that his great booby 
soul had just been saved from the winds 
and tempests of the inferno, was very 
merry. He urged much wine on them. 
When dinner was over, he ushered the 
reluctant couple to the bedehamber, say 
ing, "I know that you do this with great 
sorrow, but you must remember that it is 
for my sake alone. As you proceed to 
this duty, remember my deep g 

A few minutes later, in the midst ol 
their laughter and their naked games, 
the lovers could hear the clop-clop of 
horse's hooves on the cobblestones as Gia- 
coppo set out on his pilgtimage to 
Rom Retold by Robert Mahieu 


nd, 


ave me 


titude. 


225 


PLAYBOY 


226 litle opportunity to h 


SEX STARS OF 1972 uisa pon е 207) 


п pro with the Baltimore Colts. An 
automobile accident changed all that, 
and he was forced to take up his se 
ond love, acting. His first. performance, 
in Palm Beach Junior College's produc 
tion of Outward Bound, won him the 
1958 Florida Drama Award and a scholar 

ship 10 New York’s Hyde Park Play 

house. Graduation took him to the New 
York City Center's revival of Mister Rob- 
eris, with Charlton Heston, and his first 
of many IV contwacts—a role in the 
Chicago-based M Squad series. Moving 
10 the Coast, Reynolds remained in tel 
vision with continuing roles in Riverboat 
and as ап Indian blacksmith in Gun- 
h was typecasting, since h 
t Cherokee. 

Gradually, the movies began to beckon 
Reynolds, who won increasingly impor- 
tant ts in such films as 100 Rifles, 
Sam 1 Skulldnggery. But 
though the roles may have been impor 
tant, the pictures weren't The break. 
through came this year, when Un 
Aniss gave him top billing (over К 
quel Welch) as a tough cop in Fuz 
followed almost immediately by the re 
ase of one of the most engrossing 
films of 1972, a superbly cinen 
adaptation of James Dickeys Deliv 
ance. As a Southern city man with a 
wild taste for adventure, Reynolds sets 
out with three pals for a weekend canoe 
trip down the churning white waters of 


d 


Georgia's Cahulawasee River. It is a 
trip to disaster. One canocist is lost 
the rapids. Two are captured by 


mountain’ 


torte 
of the 


лз, who bugger опе 
the other, Reynolds shoots oj 
mountain men with a bow and arrow, 
which makes him a murderer. And the 
other mountain man is killed by Kellow 
vanocist Jon Voight when Reynolds is 
injured alter his canoe goes out of con 
trol, It is no small credit 10 Reynolds 
performance that much of the film's in- 
credible dynamism dissolves the moment 
he is put out of commission. 

Meanwhile, alter a sellout engage 
ment in Chicago in a revival of The 
Rainmaker, Reynolds and Columbia 
Pictures are racing to complete yet an- 
other tough-cop story, Shamus, before 
the end of the year, with sensuous Dyan 
Cannon as costar. Offscreen, his co-star 
has been the sprightly Dinah Shore, 
who has demonstrated her willingness to 
follow him on almost any location jaunt 
—including the Brooklyn and Manhat- 
m sites for Shamus—as most of the 
n's gossip columnists have duly not- 
cd. Reynolds makes his home on a ranch 
in Jupiter, Florida, originally built in 
1923 by Al Capone as a gangster hide- 
out. Ihe chances are that, with the 
curtent demand for his services—includ- 
ing substitute hosting on The Tonight 
Show—Reynolds will have precious 
de out there 


self in die foreseeable future. 

When it comes to proven ability at 
king theaters, though, Rejnolds— 
wd everybody elsc—takes a back seat to 
rugged Clint Eastwood. A graduate of 
television's Rawhide, then of such im- 
mensely profitable spaghetti Westerns as 
1 Fistful of Dollars and The Good, the 
Bad and the Ugly, Eastwood was named 
male star of the year by the National 
Association of Theater Owners and "ihe 
world’s leading, box-office attraction" by 
Time magazine. All this despite the fact 
that the 


first attempt at directing—Play Misty for 
Me—made no one think of a second 
coming of Welle: 

Typically Eastwood is his most recent 
film, Joe Kidd, produced by hi 
Malpaso company. In it he plays, as is 
his wont, an outsider: the man in the 
middle who gets shot at from both sides. 
Shot, beaten, tortured, he remains tight 
lipped through it all—but eventually 
hits back six times as hard. At the di- 
max of Joe Kidd, Eastwood drives a 
steam engine oll ity wicks and plows 
through half a town, coming to rest in 
aloon where some of his former perse- 
cutors have gathered; he guns them 
down in short order. As one critic ob- 
served of Eastwood's: previous financial 
blockbuster Doty Hany, “His particu 
finie capacity for 
And, he might have add- 
ng it out 
up fast on Eastwood may be 
the even more rugged Charles Bronson, 
dissed as the top-ranking international 
of the year by one publicat 
Bronson’s craggy features are not exactly 
unfamiliar on the American screen; Пе 
has played some 80 roles since making 
his debut in U. S.S. Teakettle in 1951 
But the preponderance of these have 
been heavies, gangsters, Indians or bru- 
tal сопуіеѕ. Instead of ending up with 
the girl, he usually ended up with a 
bullet in his рш. Oddly enough, a 
change of venue markedly altered. this 
dire fate, Considered а superstar by the 
French (as well by th apanese and 
the South Americans), he began то те 
ceive offers in ance that allowed him 
even romantic leads 
—as in Adieu l'Ami and particularly in 
Rider on the Rain, a chiller that enjoyed 

10derate success in this country as well 
Not coincidentally, both films by which 
he is represented оп the screen this year 
Chato's Land and Red Sun, were made 
in Europe, with Spain doubling for the 
Ате n West. But if Bronson is once 
more an Indian in the one and a bandit 
in the other, his bad-guy days are app: 
ently over. As the song gocs, “When 
you're hot, you're hot.” 

Probably the hottest new star of the 
year, however, is the dark, intense Al 


Pacino, who, alter a single appearance 
t year's The Panic in Needle Park, 
as suddenly catapulted to fame as the 
most intelligent, and most ruthless, of 
the second-generation Corleones in The 
Godjather. А product of the New York 
theater. Pacino studied with Herbert 
Berghof and at the Actors Studio before 
winning attention in such oll-Broadway 
—and  oll-oll-Broadwa attractions 
The Indian Wants the Bronx (which 
also won him an Obie Award). The 
following year, he made his Broadwa 
debut in Does a Tiger Wear a Necktie? 
and won a Tony. Needle Park came 
next. Critics at the time noted his stror 
physical resemblance to Dustin Hoffman 
and wondered aloud whether this might 
he detrimental to Pacino's . After 
The Godfather. the greater risk would 
seem to be Hoffman's, Only 32, a moody 
and reclusive young man, Pacino made 
а point of declining the film offers that 
poured in with the release of The God- 
father. electing to work w 
group in Boston belor 
to star with Gen 
forthcoming Scarecrow. Me 
mount is readying Godfather H, 
Paramount president Frank Yablons has 
his way—which he usually does—no one 
but Pacino will play the title role. 

The record for tuning down job ol 
fers out Hollywood way is currently held 
by Robert Redford, who has often stat- 
ed that as long as the money holds out 
he has no imention of wor on pic 
tures that don't interest him personally. 

ar. with two major movies in dis- 
Candidate and Jere 
probably айога 


ion—T he 


to be choosi 
its own way. is typical 
ford w; 


оп of the way that politics. espe 
this age ol television overexpo- 
эше, can transform an earnest, ideali 
ıl into a cynical cog in the political 
- Jeremiah Johnson, which won 
kudos when it was premiered at the 
Cannes film festi „а truc 
survival story, based on the exploits of 
pioneer who roamed the Carolina moun- 
tains about 100 years ago, Redlord's own 
devotion to mountain climbing. huntin 
and ski is become well know 
particularly since his purchase of some 
2400 acres of land near Prove. Utah, 
which he's turned into a yearround 
sports resort. called. Sundance. His 
manent home (with wile 
dren) is on a mount 
miles out of OVO. 
Redford’s Gneer is a Classic study in 
upward mobility. Alter attending the 
University of Colorado, he took otl for 
more than а year to study the paintings 
in the great museums of Europe and to 
develop his own talents with the brush. 
Returning to the United States in 1958, 
he enrolled in Brooklyn's famed Pratt 
(continued on page 280) 


mach 


per- 
nd three chi 
nop about 15 


BATH TOILETRIES: 
THE 
ABLUTION 
REVOLUTION 


crystals, bubbles, fizzers, oils “тих вати shall be the juice of Julyflowers,/Spirit of roses, 
and lotions to make bathing more and of violets,/The milk of unicorns, and panthers’ breath/ 
than just getting your fü Gathered in bags, and mixed with Cretan wines.” The par- 
рь: ingredients listed by Ben Jonson, Shakespeare's rival 

and everything else—wet ht and poet, may prove hard to find in your town. 
But aided by a few products that are currently on the market 

—and, presumably, by a congenial partner of the complementa . in the intimacy ol 
your own pad, enjoy the fine arts of bathing and massage. They have s been favored by Ame 
cans, In fact, a lot of people believed Н. L. Mencken in 1917 when he wrote that the first American 
bathtub was built as recently ак 1842. Mencken later admitted he was putting everyone on, but in the 
meantime, the remark had found its way into the Congressional Record and (concluded on page 258) 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI 


227 


A HEART-STOPPING, EYE-BULGING, WAVE-MAKING IDEA 


all about biofeedback—alpha waves, beta waves, theta waves, the whole business of bugging your body 


article By SCOT MORRIS you vous seven guess 
that Swami Rama has been practicing yoga since the age of 


Tour and heads а monastery in Rishikesh. Now, in his mid-10s, 
he looks more like an Italian nobleman in his Nehru 


and turtleneck sweater, and so he appeared very much out of 
place in Topeka, Kansas. 
He way there for a short visit with Dr. Elmer Green, director 


of the Menninger Foundation 
on the morning he was to leave, 
series of tests in Green’s laboratory, he de 
time to stop hiy hear 

“Are you sure you w 


s voluntary-controls project: and 
fter completing an extensive 
ided that it was 


nt to do this?” Green asked. 

"Yes, yes the swami reassured him. “There will be no 
problem. И you like, ГИ sign papers releasing the Menninger 
Foundation of any responsibility.” 

"Oh, that shouldn't be necessary, but I'm. worried about 
your health, You say you'll stop your heart by controlling your 
us nerve. But the vagus also innervates the stomach—you 
could get very sick. You had dinner at our house last night, 
you 


m 
I know, sud the swami, “and usually I would fast tor two 
or three days before trying this. But I'm leaving Topeka to- 
day: 1 have a plane to catch. And besides, I want to see if 1 
can do it.” He paused and turned to Green. "You would like 
10 see a man stop his heart, wouldn't you?" 
"Well, yes, of course,” said Green. “Bu 
thing to- 
“i will do it, then,” the swami interrupted. "Now, if my 
stomach were empty. I could safely stop my heart for three or 
four minutes, but 1 think I should limit the time today. How 
much will be sufficient for your measureme 
Ten seconds will be quite impressive,” said Greci 
n to attach the EKG electrodes to the In 
and left hand 
Swami R; 


I don't w: 


any- 


the tempe 
to differ by te it degrees—the left side turned 
as if slapped by while the right side turned ashen gray. 

"Ehe electrodes were finally in place and everyone was ready 
for the heart-stopping test. Green stood by the swami's side, 
while Green's wife, Alyce, and a gaggle of technicians and 
prolessional colleagues sat in the control room watching the 
polygraph pens perform their strange spastic dance. 

The swami made а few trial runs at speeding and slowing 
his heart, then said, “I am going to give a shock. Do not be 
alarmed.” 

Green naturally thought the sw, 


Fahrenh 
ule 


i me; 


at he was going to 


ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN HOLMES 


give himself some kind of neurologica] shock. But the shock 
he was talking about was psychological. The swami was telling 
observers not to be concerned by what they were about to 
wine 

But no one. not ex i, expected to see the mad 
pattern drawn on the EKG paper that day. Before the shock, 
his heart тате was smooth and even at 70 beats per minute; 
then, suddenly, in the space of one beat, it jumped to nearly 
300 beats per minute The polygraph pens reacted crazily. 
jerking up and down five times every second for a span of at 
least 17 seconds. When the swami arose, he was as surprised by 
the recording as everyone else. Yet he felt the test had certain 
1у been successful: “When you stop the heart in this way it still 
trembles in there,” he said, fluttering his hands to illustrate. 

The swami's heart had experienced а sudden atrial flutter, 
a dangerous cardiac condition that usually renders a patient 
unconscious, a condition in which the heart vibrates so fast 
that blood does not fill the chambers properly. the valves fail 
to work as they re supposed to and по blood is pumped to the 
body 

The swamu had used this technique many times to stop his 
pulse for the benefit of skeptical doctors. but he didn't realize 
until he saw the results of his EKG that in order to do it, he 
had forced his heart to Hutter so fast that it couldn't function 
properly. 


1 the sw 


The theoretical impact of Swami Rama's demonstration was 
significant, not so much because of what he did—stopping his 
pulse for 17 seconds—nor how he did it; the demonstration 
was really important because it took place when it did. Actual- 
ly, the same study could have been performed 20 years ago; 
equipment was available and yogis have claimed for ce 
to be able to stop their pulse. But it was done in 1970 and, 
ironically, was much more impressive than if it had occurred 
five years earlier. 

Why? Because in 1965, and for centuries before that, it was 
n accepted medical fact that the body's muscles were of two 
distinct types—voluntary and involuntary. Voluntary muscles, 
such as those in the arm, are triggered by the central nervous 
system, so one сап move them by merely deciding to do so. 
But the muscles of the heart and other internal organs, it w 
believed. were emirely different. They were thought to be 
under the sole control of the autonomic nervous system, which, 
as the name implied, was autonomous: It acted independent 
of consciousness, automatically regulating the body's involun. 

i responses. 

Therefore, in 1965, a traditional scientist would have called 

the heart-stopping demonstration а trick. “Anyone сап change 


aries 


05, 


229 


PLAYBOY 


his heart rate by simply varying his 
breathing pattern,” he would have said. 
“And we know it is possible to slow the 
heart drastically by tightening cer 
voluntary muscles that squeeze against 
adjacent blood vessels and block the flow 
of blood feeding the heart—the so- 
Valsalva's maneuver. But this shows only 
that the swa has developed fine con. 
trol of his voluntary muscles. He cannot 
ly control his heart directly, 
cause the he n involuntary or 
The swami's feat is no more significant 
n if he had claimed voluntary control 
ivary glands, and then demon- 
by voluntarily putting a lemon 
mouth." 
1966, Neal Miller and his 
colleagues at Yale destroyed the trad 
tional argument with one ingenious ex- 
periment using rats injected with curare 
à drug that blocks all the central- 
nervoussystem outputs. to voluntary 
muscles. (Curare is the drug with which 
South American tribes Up their poison 
darts, A victim feels the pain of the 
dart and remains conscious, with his 
brain and internal organs functioning 
normally, but he lies limp and helpless. 
unable to make any voluntary move- 
ments. Since his breathing muscles are 
among those silenced, he quickly suffo- 
cates. To prevent this unhappy event 
his curarized rats, Miller kept them 
breathing with an artificial respirator.) 

Miller’s experiment showed that a rat 
with all its voluntary muscles blocked 
could still le: to raise or lower its 
heart rate in order to get the reward of 
a brief electrical charge to the "pleasure 
center" of its brain. 

This one experiment proved that the 
heart was not involuntary and. suggested 
i the distinction between, 
voluntary and involuntary body organs 
should be thrown out the window. 


is 


t perhaps 


Soon after it was known that rats 
could learn to control their hearts, 
many researchers reported that un- 


dragged human beings could do the 
same thing. Psychologist Bernard Engel 
and his colleagues at the Gerontology 
Research Center in Baltimore have 
ed cardiac patients to control their 
à premature ventricular contrac 
the irregular heartbeats associated 
increased probability of sudden 
death. Half of Engel's patients learned 
their lessons well enough to maintain 
»od control at home and in later follow- 
up laboratory session 

Out of the knowledge that many bod- 
ily responses thought to be involuntary 
can in fact be controlled has grown the 
technique called biofeedback. АП le: 
requires feedback. If you are learn- 
ing to shoot a bow and arrow, you must 
be able to see the arrow and the target 
and know the results of your shot. If 


n- 


230 you are learning to speak, you must be 


able to hear. A child who is hard of 
hearing speaks poorly; given a heari 
aid, he may learn to speak as well 
normal child. Biofeedback is simply 
feedback applied to biological matters. 
It acts like a hearing aid. It “turns up 
the volume” on internal body signals 
that are normally too faint to be heard. 
By its very nature, biofeedback i 
plies the use of machines. A biofeedback 
ne is any device that makes a 
more aware of an internal bodily 
function than he normally would be 
ad that the person uses in an attempt 
to control the function voluntarily. A 
stethoscope can be a biofeedback m- 
chine if a person uses it to observe his 
own heartbeat, to learn what it feels 
like to have his heart rate go up or down 
and to try to bring his heart under vol- 
untuy control. The stethoscope can be 
improved upon electronically, of course. 
The h might be amplified 
through sp it possible to 
detect sm: it might be 
connected to a visual display. so that a 
subject сап look at a dial that tells him 
what his heart rate is at any moment. Or 
the signal might go to a computer that 
turns on a light whenever the heart rate 
is, lor example, two percent faster than it. 
ıs the previous minute. Obviously, the 
sophistication and expense of biofeed- 
back machines can vary tremendously. 
Theoretically, if a person can be made 


all 
sulliciently aware of any bodily process 


under neural control. he сап learn to 
control it volunt is includes 
most everything imaginable—heart rate, 
pupil size, b ves, the secretion of 
hormones and digestive juices, even the 
activity of individual nerve cells. It also 
includes abnormal processes such as head- 
aches, insomnia and systemic diseases. 
This is the theory, and the promise, of 
biofeedback. 


Is it all theory? Does it really work? 
Although biofeedback is still in its in- 
fancy, enough research has been done so 
that it's fair to ask how well the carly 
promises have been fulfilled. The 
swer is complicated and varied, as var- 
icd as the special arcas of biofeedback 
that are now being investigated. In some 
areas the findings have been dramatic 
and exciting, almost spectacular In 
others, the results have been less success- 
ful than we might have hoped. 

Some of biofeedback's greatest success 
has been in relieving muscle tension. 
With special machinery that registers 
muscle activity with a tone or electronic 
clicks, it’s possible to learn to relax a 
muscle completely or to isolate a single 
motor neuron and learn to itat 
will, making it sound, through amplified 
feedback, like a drum roll. 
wions on the muscle-feedback 
technique have already been used to 


partially rehabilitate stroke victims, to 
teach asthmatic patients how 10 breathe 
properly and to eliminate subvocal 
speech in slow readers—the silent mouth- 
ing of words that keeps people from 
ng to read any faster than speech 
speed (about 150 words per minute). 
New York psychologist Erik Peper used 
muscle feedback, converted into elec- 
tronic dicks, to cure a man's facial tic 
р so pronounced at the beg 
ning of treatment that the recording 
electrodes wou'dn't stick to his head. 
The man described his successful. ther 


w 


apy as a revelation: “I kept saying to 
myself, ‘Relax . . . relax...” then T 
concentrated on the clicks. At th 


ment, a whole new world was brought 
before me. I felt a deep warmth. .. . 
For once I controlled my body move- 
ments, they didn't control me. . . . I 
told myself. ‘Don't tic—and I didnt, 
d 1 cried for happiness.” 
In an even more dramatic use of the 
biofeedback technique, University of 
Wisconsin psychologist Peter. Lang saved 
by 
ghed only 12 pounds and was being 
fed through a stomach pump because he 
vomited everything he ate. He was not 
expected 10 live. Lang measured the 
muscle activity along the 
mentary canal and gave him brief elec 
tric shocks on the leg whenever his 
esophagus started to back up. "After 
only a few meals with this therapy, the 
infant ceased to vomit,” ng. “He 


The bi 


ponth-o!d infant's life. 


a” said E: 
is now a healthy toddler." 
On the other hand, heart-rate-control 


experiments have been somewhat disap- 
pointing. They have proved that some 
control is possible, and this has now 


been confirmed many times at Harvard 
and the universities of Wisconsin and 
Tennessee. But the changes achieved so 
far are still rather small and the best 
subjects have been young volunteers, 
not the more elderly 
who really need this treaume 
Blood-pressure rescarch has also be 
nconclusive. So far, only 
es n to have helped pat 
essential hypertension, one of the most 
common forms of high blood pressure. 
Neal Miller, now at Rockefeller Uni 
versity, claims temporary success wi 
one patient, and Albert Ax at Detroit's 
Lafayette Clinic says he succeeded with 
one hypertense patient and failed with 
another, The Н, d team of Herbert 
Benson and David Shapiro has had 
good results with seven patients, but 
only in a laboratory setting. Still, other 
rvard researchers have demonstrated 
that some people can learn to manipulate 
blood pressure and heart rate independ- 
ly—making one go up while holding 

the other steady. 
1t is obvious that a person could learn 
(continued on page 244) 


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ILLUSTRATION BY GARIE BLACKWELL 


231 


minute-and-three-quarter 
mysteries for the amateur 
Sleuth and professional 
masochist 


DESIGNED EY ALFRED ZELCER 
PHOTOGRAPHED EY BILL ARSENAULT 


THE CASE OF THE MURDERED SOCIALITE 


INSPECTOR FORD burst into the study. On the 
floor was the body of Clifford Wheel, who apparently 
had been struck from behind with a croquet mallet. 
The position of the body indicated that the victim 
had been surprised in the act of singing Sorrento 
to his goldfish. Evidence showed there had been a 
terrible struggle that had twice been interrupted by 
phone calls, one a wrong number and one asking 
if the victim was interested in dance lessons. 

Before Wheel had died, he had dipped his finger 
into the inkwell and scrawled outa message: “Fall Sale 
Prices Drastically Reduced—Everything Must Go!” 

“A businessman to the end,” mused Ives, his 
manservant, whose elevator shoes, curiously enough, 
made him two inches shorter. 

The door to the terrace was open and footprints 
led from there, down the hall and into a drawer. 

“Where were you when it happened, Ives?" 

"In the kitchen. Doing the dishes.” Ives produced 
some suds from his wallet to corroborate his story. 

“Did you hear anything?” 

“He wes in there with some men. They were 
arguing over who was tallest. | thought | heard Mr. 
Wheel start yodeling and Mosley, his business part. 
ner, began yelling, ‘My God, I'm going bald!" Next 
thing I knew, there was а harp glissando and Mr. 
Wheel's head came rolling out onto the lawn. | heard 
Mr. Mosley threaten him. He said if Mr. Wheel 
touched his grapefruit again, he would not cosign г 
bank loan for him. | think he killed him." 

“Does the terrace door open from the inside or 
from the outside?" Inspector Ford asked Ives. 

"From the outside. Why?" 

“Exactly as I suspected. I now realize it was you, 
not Mosley, who killed Clifford Wheel.” 


How Did Inspector Ford Know? 
Because of the layout of the house, Ives could 
not have sneaked up behind his employer. He 
would have had to sneak up in front of him, at 
which time Mr. Wheel would have stopped 
singing “Sorrento” and used the mallet on Ives. 
a ritual they Fad gone through many times. 


A CURIOUS RIDDLE 


Apparently, Walker was a suicide. Overdose 
of sleeping pills. Still something seemed amiss 
to Inspector Ford. Perhaps it was the position 
of the body. Inside the TV set, looking out. On 
the floor was a cryptic suicide mote. "Dear Edna, 
My woolen suit itches me, and so | have decided 
to take my own life. See that our son finishes all 
his push-ups. | leave you my entire fortune, with 
the exception of my porkpie hat, which | hereby 
donate to the planetarium. Please don't feel sorry 
for me, as | enjoy being dead and much prefer 
it to paying rent. Goodbye, Henry. Р. S. This may 
not be the time to bring it up, but | have every 
rezson to believe that your brother is dating а 
comish hen." 

Edna Walker bit her lower lip nervously. "What 
do you make of it, Inspector?" 

Inspector Ford looked at the bottle of steeping 
pills on the night table. "How long had your husband 
been an insomniac?” 

"For years. It was psychological. He was afraid 
that if he closed his eyes, the city would paint 2 
white line down him." 

"| see. Did he have any enemies?" 

“Not really. Except for some gypsies who ran a 
tearoom on the outskirts of town. He insulted them 
once by putting on а pair of ear mufis and hopping 
ир and down in place on their sabbath.” 

Inspector Ford noticed a half-linished glass of 
milk on the desk. It was still warm. “Mrs. Walker, 
is your son away at college?” 

“I'm afraid not. He was expelled last week for 
immoral conduct. It came as quite a surprise. They 
caught him trying to immerse а dwarf in tartar sauce. 
That's one thing they won't tolerate at an Ivy 
League school.” 

“And one thing 1 won't tolerate is murder. Your 
son is under arrest." 


Why Did Inspector Ford Suspect 
Walker's Son Had Killed Him? 
Mr. Walker's body was found with cash in his 
pockets. A man who was going to commit 
suicide would be sure to take а credit card and 
sign for everything. 


THE STOLEN GEM 


The glass case was shattered and the Bellini 
Sapphire was missing. The only clues left behind 
at the museum were а blond hair and a dozen 
fingerprints, all pinkies. The guard explained that 
he had been standing there when а black-clad figure 
crept up behind him and struck him over the head 
with some notes for a speech. Just before losing 
consciousness, he thought he had heard a man's 
voice say, "Jerry, call your mother," but he could 
not besure. Apparently, the thief had entered through 
the skylight and walked down the wall with suction 
shoes, like а human Пу. The museum guards always 
kept an enormous fly swatter for just such occasions, 
but this time they had been fooled. 

“Why would anyone want the Bellini Sapphire?" 
the museum curator asked. “Don't they know it's 
cursed?” 

“What's this about a curse?" Inspector Ford was 
quick to ask. 

“The sapphire was originally owned by a sultan 
who died under mysterious circumstances when а 
hand reached out of a bowl of soup he was eating 
and strangled him. The next owner was an English 
lord who was found one day by his wife growing 
upside down in a window box. Nothing was heard 
of the stone for a while; then it turned up years later 
in the possession of a Texas millionaire, who was 
brushing his teeth when he suddenly caught fire. 
We purchased the sapphire only last month, but the 
curse seemed to be working still, because shortly 
after we obtained it, the entire board of trustees at 
the museum formed a conga line and danced off 
a dift." 

“Well,” Inspector Ford said, “it may be an unlucky 
jewel, but it's valuable, and if you want it back, go 
to Handleman's Delicatessen and arrest Leonard 
Handleman. You'll find that the sapphire is in his 
pocket.” 


How Did Inspector Ford Know 
Who the Jewel Thief Was? 
The previous day, Leonard Handleman had re- 
marked, "Boy, if I only had a large sapphire, 
1 could get out of the delicatessen business." 


THE MACABRE ACCIDENT 


"| just shot my husband," wept Cynthia Freem 
as she stood over the body of the burly man in 
the snow. 

“How didit happen?” asked Inspector Ford, getting 
right to the point. 

"We were hunting. Quincy loved to hunt, as did 1. 
We got separated momentarily. The bushes were 
overgrown. | guess | thought he was a woodchuck. 
1 blasted away. It was too late. As I was removing 
his pelt, 1 realized we were married.” 

“Hmm,” mused Inspector Ford, glancing at the 
footprints in the snow. "You must be г very good 
shot. You managed to plug him right between the 
eyebrows.” 

“Oh, по, it was lucky. I'm really quite an amateur 
al that sort of thing." 

“| see.” Inspector Ford examined the dead man's 
possessions. In his pocket there was some string, 
also an apple from 1904 and instructions on what 
to do if you wake up next to an Armenian. 

“Mrs. Freem, was this your husband's first hunting 
accident?” 

“His first fatal one, yes. Although once in the 
Canadian Rockies, an eagle carried off his birth 
certificate.” 

“Did your husband always wear a toupee?” 

“Not really. He would usually carry it with him and 
produce it if challenged in an argument. Why?" 

“He sounds eccentric.” 

“He was,” 

“ls that why you killed him?" 


How Did Inspector Ford Know 

It Was No Accident? 
An experienced hunter like Quincy Freem would 
nover have stalked door in his underwear. Actu- 
ally, Mrs. Freem had bludgeoned him to death 
at home while he was playing the spcons and 
had tried to make it look like а hunting accident 
by dragging his body to the woods and leaving 
a copy of Field & Stream nearby. In her haste, 
she had forgotten to dress him. Why he hed 
been playing the spoons in his underwear re- 
mains a mystery. 


THE BIZARRE KIDNAPING 


Halt-starved, Kermit Kroll staggered into the living 
гот of his parents’ home, where they waited 
anxiously with Inspector Ford. 

“Thanks for paying the ransom, folks,” Kermit 
said, “I never thought I'd get out of there alive.” 

“Tell me about it," the inspector said. 

"| was on my way downtown to have my hat 
blocked when a sedan pulled up and two men asked 
тте if | wanted to see а horse that could recite the 
Gettysburg Address. | said sure and got in. Next 
thing, I'm chloroformed and wake up somewhere 
tied to a chair and blindfolded.” 

Inspector Ford examined the ransom note. “Dear 
Mom and Dad, Leave $50,000 in 2 bag under the 
bridge on Decatur Street. If there is no bridge on 
Decatur Street, please build one. 1 am being treated 
well, given shelter and gocd focd, although last night 
the clams casino were overcooked. Send the money 
quickly, because if they don't hear from you within 
several days, the man who now makes up my bed 
will strangle me. Yours, Kermit. P. S. This is no 
joke. 1 am enclosing a joke so you will be able to 
tell the difference." 

“Do you have any idea at all as to where you were 
being held?" 

“No, | just kept hearing an odd noise outside the 
window.” 

"Odd?" 

"Yes. You know the sound a herring makes when 
you lie to it?" 

“Hmm,” reflected Inspector Ford. “And how did 
you finally escape?" 

^| told them | wanted to go to the football game 
but I only had a single tickel. They said OK, as long 
as | kept the blindfold on and promised to return by 
midnight. | complied, but during the third quarter, 
the Bears had a big lead, so I left and made my way 
back here, 

"Very interesting," Inspector Fund said. “Nuw 1 
know this kidnaping was a put-up job. I believe you're 
їп on it and are splitting the money. 


How Did Inspector Ford Know? 
Although Kermit Kroll did still live with his 
parents, they were 80 and he was 60. Actual 
kidnapers would never abduct a 60-year-old 
child, as it makes no sense. 


ош of the deal. 

Are you not Amer 
ican who owns по car,” 
“One must have a car to do business, 

“I am an American who does no 
business.” 

Now he knew I was putt 
and changed his tone. 

“Do you have an enemy in Chicago?" 
he asked slyly. 

“in ci 


PLAYBOY 


g him oi 


Tunis for 


five hundred dollars,” he promised. 
You are my brother." He turned to 
Madame. 


She was drawing a red line down from 


Tunis to the desert’s edge, encircling the 
places she intended to see. The red line 
bypassed Djerb: 

“In Paris,” Hassine tried to get her 
attention, "Hassine touched ice with his 
hands.” 

She had encircled Carthage, Kairouan, 
Matmata, G: nd Méden 

“In Paris" Hassine tried again, "Has- 


sine went to Folies Bergère. 

No response. 

"Hassne fought bravely for 
French,” he played his trump card. 
Paris Hassine was in hospita 

He turned to me, unbuttoned his 
shirt until his right shoulder was ex- 
posed. The sear extended from shoulde 
to elbow. He bunoued the shirt and 
sed his lelt trouser leg: A red seam 
zigragged from ankle to knee. Shrapnel. 
He dropped the trouser leg. 

“Although Hassine fought bravely for 
the French." he filled me in. 
they do not let him fight the Jew 

Madame glanced up from her map. 

“What do you want to fight Jews for? 
Did Jews give you your wounds?" 

“Му wounds are no matter, Madame,” 
Hassine explained heroically. “I wish to 
fight the Jews because they offend God.” 

“How can God's chosen people offend 
^ she led him on. 

If Jews are God's chosen people," 
Hassine replied, “why did God not pick 
them to conquer all North Africa and 
Spain instead of the Arabs?" 

f the bs are God's chosen 
people,” Madame came right back, "why 
didn't God let them keep Spain? 

1 they are not, why did He let them 
keep it a thou 

“If they are, how is it that the Jews 
are now holding the road to Tel Aviv? 


the 


Hi 


A battle lost is not a war lost, 
Hassine answered promptly. “Had God 
meant Jews to win, He would have 


given them a Пар. Now they make their 
own flag. God does not wish people to 
make their own flag. He does not wish 
people to begin. It is God's will that 
Arabs have an army because Arabs have 
always had an army. If Jews begin ıo 
have an army, then Bedouins will want 
234 one also, Even the people who live i 


MEDENINE (continued om page 222) 


the ground in Matmata will come to 
live on top of it. И God had wished 
them to live on top of the earth, He 
would not have put them to live be- 
neath it. They too will want a flag.” 

“Why shouldn't they have а flag?" 

fadame persisted. 

“Because they are only Bedouins who 
live underground." 

We will sce Bedouins who 
derground for ourselves,” Madame de- 
cided, turning the map toward Hassine. 

“Tt is not necessary to мор here, Mad- 
ame,” Hassine told her confidently, 
touching Carthage. "There is nothing 
here bur old rocks. In Djerba is the most 
beautiful beach for bathing in the 
world." 

We do not wish to bathe. We wish to 
see old rocks. 

Hassine smiled patronizingly: “In 
Djerba, Madame, are the world’s sweet- 
est figs.” 

We do not wish for figs. 
or to eat.” 

Hassine shook 

In Kairou: 
but old walls." 

We wish to see old walls." 
In Cabés," he kept trying, "are only 
women who are nor serious, But in 
Djerba one may buy the finest pottery 
for only a few francs. In Djerba are the 
world’s finest racing camels.” 

“Do you wish to sce racing camelsz 
Madame asked me. 

“I should like to see 
not serious,” J assured her. 

Madame customarily had so little con- 
cern for money that 1 wasn't even cer- 
a she could count, From her clanging 
French dialog with Hassine, which now 
ensued, I was pleasantly surprised to 
observe not only that she could count 
but was driving him back 
across the sands. 
je they were occupied, 1 snatched 

as of the loaf Mad had 
been working on. By the time they 
reached an understanding I had it 
consumed. 

The understanding was that we were 
to leave the following morning at six, 
to avoid driving in the heat of the da 
;od willing," was Hassine’s parting 
will have tea in Djerba tomor- 


her to see 


head sadly 
Madame, are nothing 


mels who are 


shot, 
row evening.” 
“We aren't going to Djerba," Madame 
corrected him, But he was already gone. 
Hassine Ameur Djemail was as deft as 
Madame herself at turning a deaf ear. 
We began waiting for Hassine Ameur 
Djemail at 5:45 4 
"The heat of the day, trapped all night 
between the walls, made the hotel lobby 
stifling, But the night clerk told me he 
could not switch on th 
until the heat of the new day had be- 
gun. Wandering around the lobby look- 


ing for a switch, I marveled that he 
could tell how much heat belonged to 
yesterday and how much to this morning. 

Madame dozed in an armchair. A wind 
from the desert paused in the street just 
beyond the door, saw that it was too hot 
inside our lobby and moved on down 
the street. Madame roused herself, shred- 
ded a copy of Algef Republicain and 
returned to sleep. 


I asked the night clerk how he could 
tell 


the diflerence between yester 
ag's and I 


at the de 


could по: ü 
by the d. 
wondered whose responsibility it was to 
decide whether the streets were light or 
still dark, I put a few shreds of the Alger 
Republicain together and pretended to 
read them until I fell asleep in the 
hotel's other armchair. 

A touch on my shoulder woke me. It 
took me a moment to recognize Hassine, 
now wearing a white jellaba, He'd traded 
his GI cap for a fez. 

“How are we to have tea this evening 
in Djerba if you are to sleep the whole 
morning in Tunis?” he demanded. 

We've been waiting since before six," 
1 informed him. The clock above the 
bar showed half past nine; the day clerk 
was on duty, the overhead fan just be- 

ing to tur 
"God was unwilling we leave so car- 
Hassine explained easily. “Against 
His strength we are helpless. You are my 
Luter." That was just how he put it: E 
was his brother. 

He gave his brother the front sent— 
the seat of honor—beside himself. He 
give Madame barely time to scramble 
into the back seat. A minute slower and 
she would have been left behind. My 
"C make Madame 


ге to stop to look at rocks all 
the way to the desert, Madame," hc 
reproved her, looking terribly put upon, 
"D will have no time to visit my moth- 
ers gr 


Hassine waited sullenly at the wheel 
while Madame and 1 walked among 
the rocks, where once the invincible 


city stood. 
This was the point at which Dido, 
ing by night instead of beaching 
her ship every sundown, disembarked. At 
her first dig she exhumed a cow's skull, 
presaging a city that would live en- 
slaved. So she tied again farther west 
nd brought up а horses skull: adum- 
brating a city warlike and powerful. And 
she 1 it Qart Hadasht: New Town. 
The Romans pronounced it “Carthage 

The sea ring tribute: w: 
terlogged е bottles and dead 
fish. It looked like the good times were 
gone. The New Towner had had his day. 
nd what a hard, hard time he gave 


ever 
battle as well as in business. 
Right from the start thi 


New Towner 


Because you're mine. 
e 


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237 


PLAYBOY 


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poked all wrong to the Roman business 
man. He not only looked wrong but he 
smelled wrong. His anklelength robe 
ad his heavy perfume 
were oll Worse was his ha 

prostrating himself before the European 
hefore talking business. 

Ji wasn ier—after i 
shook. off th ying scent and we 
the baths—that he realized he'd been 
jobbed. Ар; 

А nation of such effeminate hustlers 
should be a pushover in warfare, the 
Roman concluded. And found himself 
jobbed yet again. 

The New Towners drove as ferocious. 


ly in bade as they did in u 
their boldness in both was n 
their emerprise on the high 


the 


Columbus. 
Hanno led 60 ships of 50 
cars cach down the west coast of Afric 
Hanno presented his city with the skins 
of three African females who'd fought 
him so fiercely at Fernando Po that they'd 
had то be killed. The skins were of fe 
male gorillas. This remains the earliest 
recorded instance of a movement for the 
liberation of women. 

"Hassine has not 
grave for two years; 
е bı 


thousand years belore 


seen his mother's 
he began again as 
soon as we w k on the road, "but 
if Madame imd Monsieur enjoy stand- 
ing on rocks, that is no matter. Hassine's 
mother is nothing. Aladume's pleasure 


comes first, 

"IE you had come to the hotel at the 
time you gave your word," Madame 
phrased her retort neatly. “we would 


have had time to 
w neither of us will visit graves.” 


© my mother's grave, 


though she were being immodest, 
are only a woman.” 
"Now we go to Médenin 
ended the discussion 
There weren't m 
road from Tunis to Médenine and that 
just as well, because the road was nar- 
vow and Hassine drove fast; and never 
troubled to usc his klaxon except to 
summon the atiention ol is on 
donkeys going the Has 
Ameur Djemail, Owner of Ciuoen with 
Two Suits in Garage, was passing! At- 
tention must be paid to this m: 
We drove between ULE 
land, half scrub and half sind, At ti 
felt we were tilting downward 
sort of green-white hell, Madame dozed 
in Ше back seat and Û dozed in the scat of 
honor. I was beiwcen sleep 
when 1 sensed something, pass à 
full awake. 
ЗА camel!” J 
ппу. craning my neck into the dust 
id us. "I just saw a camel! 
willing, we shall 
Has sured me, 


ny curves in id 


Bedou 


other w 


annou 
T 
behi 
“God 
nels,” 


see 


пе 
ter wonders, In Djerb: 


md yet 


"This camel was lı 


uling a сап," I 


"I didn't know 


ly put it together 
camels pulled carts." 

Hassine beamed at me. “An old saying 
оГ the desert" he counseled me gen 
dy, “three things cannot be made to pull 
a cut: the cat, the lion and the camel. 

There'd be a hell of a row if they did 
get all three between the shafts, I real- 
ized. But somewhere in Tunisia a camel 
was pulling a сап—ай by himself. Or 
herself. I kept my eyes on the road. 

There was always a dust doud ap- 
proaching with something in its middle. 
Some turned ош to be camels and some 
turned out to be carts; but never the 
one hitched to the other, 

H douin sleeping be- 
nd gave the horn such a 
t the Bedouin leaped out of the 
nd into the brush. It was a 


woman. 
“Why 


do you frighten these harmless 
people?” Madame came awake to ask. 

"To keep them from thinking they 
too should have a flag,” he answered 

mediately. 

Between a sky too white and hovels 
100 black we saw the last Jews on earth 
who carn their living by driving camel 

This was the ghetto of Medenine. 
And again we had to leave Hassine 
waiting. Jews had exactly as much ap- 
peal to him as had the rocks of Сапар 

But Madame had an impassioned cu 
riosity about all peoples; and I had 
my can 

We 
square 


found ourselves in a neeless 
where camels made ihe onl 
Like knock-kneed kings shorn 
power, some standing and some 
ing. they formed a square w 
treeless square. Because of the 
took me a minute to discern that, in the 
shadow of each brute, a dri 
Their eyes, I sensed, were 
And to them we were even more 
than Arabs. Yet I sensed no hostility. It 
wasn't till my eyes adjusted to the light 
that E saw they were all boys 

One, robed in black, with a 
shock of black hair and light-blue 
his camel up to us. While the camel 


shadows, 


at 


s neck over our heads. the 
boy looked up at us, smiling as though 
g something. He was inviting 


ride his camel. 

“Vell him I have a fear of heights.” I 
asked Madame. 

“He speaks no French. 
“and I don't know 
cowardice in Hebrew. 

I tried to make a deal: "Will you take 
my piciure if 1 get on top of in?" 

She wanted no part of that camera. but 
nel boy waved to a friend to act 
photographer. The kid caught on 10 
its mechanism immediately. The problem 

ow was how to get on top of the brute. 
You don't swing aboard as you would 
horse. You climb it. Even when it 
kneeling, you still have to climb. 

1 hauled myself to its top 


she informed 
how to say 


th 


went off the other side. I finally 
got into a siting posture, with one hand 
canted toward the sun to get my lace 
» profile, as I had seen Lawrence of 
Arabia doing in a photograph 

Then I looked down. 1 was high. 
Really high. I motioned to the kid with 


the camera to get out of the sun, and 
the gesture started the camel moving! 1 
hadn't counted on its moving and I had 


to hold оп to its neck to avoid being 
pitched ой. The driver took the reins 
and began leading me around the 
square as if he'd captured something. 

1 couldn't catch the rhythm. ol 
camel's walk. When I leaned 
it lurched. throwing me back; wh 
leaned backward it developed 
lurch and th me forward, Camel 
boys came all around the 
square, making merriment of my р] 
1 suypected Madame was enjoying the 
scene as well. 
ikl-be photographer ran be 
ide the camel, trying to get me imo 
focus. When that didnt work, he stopped 
and knelt to get a sight Tine on me. But 
^d focus Td lurch, either fc 
ck, and hed have to take oll 
alter the camel and rider again. At last 
he decided his best move was to get in 
front of the beast and catch. us coming, 
head on. When this didn't work, he be 
gan leaping straight up off the ground 
and snapping the camera in mid-air, 

To be leading one’s camel around the 
square in that tiny ancestral gh 
with an American astride it, was plainly 
a distinction; The shock-haired boy w: 
positively strutting. He made a complete 
tum of the square. bringing me back to 
where I had boarded. And then I knew 
Thad a problem: how to get oll 

1 accomplished this by sliding down 
the brute’s neck and then dangling, Had 
the driver not persuaded it to knech, Vd 
be dangling yet. Madame apparently de- 
tected something humorous in this peri 
fraught scene, but I overlooked this 
demonstration of bad taste on her part. 
I was one thing for a gang ol camel 
rowdies to jump with glee but quite 
another for а supposedly sophisticated 
woman to join them. Alter she paid the 
camel driver and the cum both 
accompa цо gate. 

As won as we returned to Hassine it 
was clear that wed wasted the better 
part of his day. But before he could g 


the 
forward 
n 1 
new 


n 


E 
into his complaint about spending rime 
rocks, walls, Jews or Bedouins 
that would | bette 
Madame gave 
Rue Sidi Yabya. 
know wl she 


e been 


spent looking at Djerba 
the orders of the day 
1 didn't 


was up 


trance to the Rue Sidi Yahya 
was guarded by two Frendi soldiers, 
checking the passes of soldiers looking 
for women. Sidi Yahya was reserved for 
black or Jewish whores and the common 


239 


PLAYBOY 


240 


soldiery. Officers had access to the pre 
ferred brothels of white Moslem womer 
My camera was loaded. 1 was ready. 
I knew we were in the wrong пей 
borhood as soon as we passed 


the 
guards. It would have been no more 


than awkward, and in bad taste, for a 
respectable white Christian woman to 
come to look at women who'd been cast 
ош, black and Jewish at that. But 10 
have her followed by an American with 
a camera, and he followed by a fat Arab 
and none of the three of them looking 
though he were going to spend a 
1C—was a soundproof insult. 

The shadow of a whore in one door 
way met the base of the building direct- 
ly across the Sidi Yahya: The street was 
that narrow. E speculated on the possi- 
bility of being confronted by a 67^ 
Senegalese pimp wearing a single earring 
and wanting to know just what I had in 
mind. That the street сате to a deal 
end half a city block away was not 
reassuring. The girls were packed in 
there preity tightly 

The Jewish women wore Europea 


dress, The tribal women, on the other 
hand, stood stripped to the waist, some 
ith cicatrices of purple and indigo 


ing their checks, Madame paused to 
ik to one; but the woman only fixed 
aze beyond Madame as though 
When а woman 
with his pay in his 
. there isn't much percentage in 
E your story to a madame 
logue. She һай no bener luck with the 
Jewish women. Even though they weren't 
ble to throw us out, they still didn't 
have to act as if they'd sent for us. 

Bur after she passed one sandy-haired 


Madame didn't. exist. 
needs а soldi 


child, a girl no more than 18, 1 caught 
the suggestion of a smile from the girl 
She looked to be both Jewish and 


French; and since. French. soldiers have 


been exploring the wilds of the Rue 
Sidi Yahya lor 100 years, she might well 
have been. Which would have made h 


persona non grata to the Christian and 
Moslem communities as well as hs Jew. 
She poimed то my cam- 
Lace, 
asked shyly 


“Kato?” 


only too plewed to oblige. 
When I asked her то move just a bit to 
the side, out of the direct ghire of the 
sun, she smiled ple у amd snatched 
the camera out of my Then she 
stood, still smiling pleasantly, yet with a 
dow of n lace, the box 
held behind her, in her own door 

We were only having a bit of a joke 
between us, of course. So I held out 
100-frane note 10 keep it that way. She 
shook her head no: A hundred. Irancs 
wasn't enough to keep it a joke. It 
might be for her, but there were now 
three other girls, all white 
and behind me. 

AIT had, besides the 100anc note, 
was it 1000 franc. note. W 


ace on he 


on cither sid 


could get by if I gave up the 500. but we 
ded the 1000- Franc onc. 
у? You ficky"" one of the girls 


demanded, slapping derisively at my fly. 
1 came up with the 500. The sandy 


haired one shook her head: No. Just 
as if she knew what I was holding. 
‘Then the two on either side began push 
nd the one behind started ac 
funny too, 1 glanced toward the 
where the guards were watching. They 
100 were smiling. I came up with the 
1000-frane note but held on to it until I 
got a grip on the camera. She didit let 
it go until she got a grip on the bill. The: 
we both let go at once. She had the not 
camera. 1 looked 


Tor Madame 

There was such a crowd of women 
wound her, all jeeri п 1 couldn't 
sev her. 1 looked around for Hasine. He 
was standing his ground but wasn't 
planning to advance. 1 moved reluctantly 
toward the small mob just as Madam 
broke free, coming fast on her Па 
heeled shoes, the dozen whores strung 
out, pretending 10 chase her, some actual 
ly running a lew steps behind her to 
keep her running. Hassine turned. and 
Hed toward the gate. 

1 gathered whatever Sieds of my 
dignity remained, simply to wait until 
Madame had passed me in her flight. It 
just кош” look right, 1 told mysell, 
lo get to the gate before she did 
walked on hurriedly behind her to 
the impression, to whoever w 
this wretched demonstratio 
ice, that I was the leser coward. 

Then, just as we'd almost reached the 
gate, the sandy-haired girl ducked in 
Iront of me, raised Madame’s dress to her 
waist amd тап behind her, holding the 


ve 


из watclii 
of coward. 


dress up with one hand and pointing 
wilh the other, jeering, “See! She Лаз 
one too! See! She has one too! 

I the soldiers at the gate dud 


laughed ouvight I would have liked it 
better than the tight little smiles 1 felt 
in passing: smiles that said we'd gotten 
no worse than we'd deserved. They were 
tight, as Madame was the first to ac 
knowledge—as soon 
back in the Citroën 


Hassine kept his silence. He was 
abashed at his own cowardice, I sur 
mised. But I overestimated Hassine, He 
wasn't in the least abashed: He was 


affronted, He had warned us not to look 
at Jews, he had warned us not to look at 
women who were nor serious. We had 
insisted. with ont dos of 
Massine's d 

“In Djerba there are no women who 
are not serious,” he began that again. "In 
Djerba we shall dri world's finest 
tea. In Djerba — 

In Djerba,” 1 interrupted him, “we 
ld do better 10 smoke The ‘Terrible 
kish Hubble 
hashish. kat or kif” 
that HT could get a water pipe i 


the consequ 


Bubble, also knows 
any dif idea being 
to his 


as 


mouth, it would keep him from trying t 
sell us Djerba. 

“We are not going to Djerh: 
me decided from the back ses 
was glad to hear it. 

As dusk came up fron 
low wind stirred the sa 
like rain," I told Hassin 

^l am of Djerba, a Man of His 

Word,” he came through without hesita 
tion. “It will not rain this night betwecu 
He softened the 
1 that benign smile and the 
‚ "You are my brother.” 
ce alter that, Once 

something, all to 
herself in the back seat. Hassine looked 
at me curiously, 

She laughs in her sleep," I told him. 

I suspected she was reviewing the recent 
Night of the Frenchwoman and the 
American man on the Rue Sidi Y 

We drove until very lite. 1 roused 
myself now and when D sensed 
something passing us from the other di 
rection, But when it was a camel, there 
was no cart, And when there was a cart. 
there was always some fool of a di 
key pulling it. The air grew cooler 
а slanting rain touched the windshield. 
I glanced at Hassine, He was ready. 

"It is not rain,” he explained, “only а 
few drops of water falling from the sky 

Once, our headlights caught a camel 
resting under a date palm. Из rear was 
pointing toward a cart. The cart was 
чапа, bur 1 fet close to chition 

"Close, wasn't J asked Hassine. 

“Three things" he beg 

"E know, I know,” 1 
lion and a c 

The rain that was not rain touched 
the windshield; a wind that was not 
wind touched the dust. I was half asleep 
when, bright in the headlights glow, 
«ате а camel that was not a camel, 

Tt way pulling a cart The driver was 
walking alongside 

Hassine watched the ca 
by: I watched Hassine 

L kept my silence long alter we had 
passed the group. It was growing ligin 
before Hassine spoke: 

That was not 


the desert, 
“That feels 


n 


m 
rupted him, 


el and cart go 


gave me 


his forgiving smile—"it was а drome- 
dary, A beast that will do anything.” 

Mac nurmured something. then 
Laughed, very lightly, more in sleep than 
in wak 

The day we returned w the Hotel 

зата Palace I took a dozen rolls of 
film 10 a shop for developing. Later, 


er shook 
showed me a dozen 
m. 
amera malade,” he exp 
ind declined payment, 
“An old saying of the desert 
things cannot be made to pull à cart—a 
sich camera, а Jat Arab and a humorless 


when I called for them, the own 


his head sadly 


Three 


woman. 


еј 
DENPAhk (si ron pase 161) 


eatery adjoin modest white tidy 
house of another former teacher of mine 
а sturdy ample-hipped spinster with a 
clamp to her mouth like a Boston ter 
riers. whose rent sole exhilarations 
had bı nd 
Sir W: fin 


Iter Scott —I looked up afte 
a game to discover her standing 
jı her lighted bedroom window. It over- 


looked the di back parking lot 
where there was the usual uproarious dog 
pack of n lolescents like myself, 
moilii »oldering night. Now. 
above their profane lewd yaps and brays 
out there in the dark, she proceeded 
slowly and deliberately and serenely— 
with a grace and elegance and derach 
ment almost theatrictl—to shrug olf her 
housecoat. reach behind and disengage 
her bra, the off lightly. ling 
ing in the dow, above the 
ариу stricken and hushed parking 
lot, for a long giddying moment: bared, 
astonishing. momentous. _ ponderously 
malian. 

Perhaps inevitabl 


‚ there was a single 


the front 
ollicc of that. ic precxpressway mo- 
tel—called something like The Blue 


Moon. no more than four meager wood- 
en cottages huddling under mimosas with 
a fechly festive piping of hin redand- 
green neon along their caves—where. 
one heavily raining autumn night. T 
waited for two friends to return In 
ations in the back 
the desk 
m, w секс 
ing one of those purple-silk jackets 
Japanese dragon embroidered on 
in a voice like the 
sepulehral croak of a toad, “Ye 
to play them pinball machines, don't 


their five-doll: 


sho’ like 


“Hell, I sho’ do. Yes, sir." 


"Your buddies came in here with you. 
I don't guess they 
pinball machines as 
do they? 

“Oh, yeah. i's just they 

But at that point, a woman wrapped 
in a frazzled chenille bathrobe appeared 
through а capping screen door, bar 
footed, mellowed somewhat beyond her 
30s bit drab and dumpling ol 
features, but, in all fairness, heavily plush 
and languorous under the rol she 
leaned on the counter, “Hey. Ralph. 1 
ти ye Il Sonny at the Dixie Cab 
d have him bring me ont a pint of 
J W Dant 

In short, about seven minutes later, I 
was im a room with a single bare light 
bulb dangling bleakly between slat- 
board walls painted a sallow caramel, 
d a wirecoil heater glowing on a 
wilted linoleum floor, lying skin: 
between the harsh sheets of a creaking 
iron-frame bed with rain booming on 


uch as you do, 


К 


u lo 


the tin roof as I watched her—in uncan- 
ny duplication of that same calm and 
formal motion I had glimpsed in that 
indow behind the diner only a 
Hie—bend her plump 

and then delicately 
shrug olf her bra, brimmingly abun 
as she leaned to snap olf the light, the 
bed twanging loudly ар; 
herself beside me. May she be blessed 
wherever she dwells tonight, she was— 
bit parched—anything but perfunctory 
The bed dangor of those tumultuous 
seismic heav and surgings at last 
ceased, and а moment she slipped 
back out of the sheets and clicked on 
the light. putting on only her bra at 
first. standing before me with the jush 
tulting of her luxurious lap as she recit- 
ed some ancient joke about a lickerish 
Indian. A few minutes later, 1 was back 
in the car with the two friends—it was 
only 9:30, not 20 minutes since we had 
first pulled up there, but I had the sense 
of an age having passed unawares. 
Whatever. I have no recollection of ever 
having played the n in. alter 
that night 

But through the fevers of th. 
so at the machines had filiered murmur- 


ings of distant metaphysical frequencies. 
One always seemed to be playing pin 
ball in settings that were more or less 
the stage drop of  transience—truck 
stops. the waiting rooms of bus stations 
—uansience itself being that. particular 
condition in which mortals come closes 
to picking up. like faint vagrant memo- 
ries of some dream whose meaning has 
been lost. intimations of the quiet spaces 
of eternity. And alter an hour at the 
machines. one became lost in fierce soli 
y communion with a miniature con 
tained cosmos under glass that, like a 
pool mirroring the universe, was filled 
with its own infinite chaos of caprice 
and happenstance. Each time one ten 
derly pulled the throule back to that 
exquisite precise measured delectability 
ion. it seemed as if onc were 
ош a simple me 


released. softly bumping th 
steel ball on its blind lunge ош into 
the contrived camival of circumst 
n imponderable physics of 
gain, blessing and disaster, upon which 
one could only impinge by dull approxi 
mate seconda 
poker. pinb: 
self-absorbed 
metrics, ре 


loss 


“We can't keep meeting lik 


» this, Hilary. All my 


food is going rotten!” 


241 


PLAYBOY 


242 


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calisthenic for the age. Over the course of 
marathon sessions—realizing, 
ien only by noticing in mild 
surprise a brief aftertaste of chili, not 
il five n wer the clang 
while 
the throttle between the fingers began 10 
assume it film of warm dew. like sweating 
change—one seemed to enter higher 
higher vibrancies of concentrat 
consciousness. Abruptly, at some point 
й was as if one had passed completely 
beyond all time and id ma 
ality: had become suspended in a la 
stasis, oblivious of whatever collapse of 
empires might be under way im that 
rounding world now only occasionally 
mpsed, beyond a murky. grimed wi 
as the facade of a pale and 
without dimension. or 
sound, ephemeral and meaningless. One 
begin eventually to arrive at certain 
suspicions about the true secret. processes 
of time—that centuries sometimes evolve 
1 afte calendar days 
mount to the idle interval of an instant, 
That, in fact, there is really no such 
thing as time, since the past is poly- 
phonically simultaneous with the present. 
For most, with the waning of 
cence, that mysterious poetry disappears, 
But even in their 40s, a few continue 
fitfully and obsessively to return to the 
machines. Aer from Augusta. 


1 and 


1001 


doles: 


in the back rooms of scrubby little cafés 
nd cement-block beer taverns squatiin) 

in grassless dirt yards under chinaberry 
trees, hardware salesmen and ойс 
ks and bread-truck. drivers still wan- 
in at midmorning, out of the fh 

vicious emptiness of their lives, out of 
the unremitting brute attritions of car 
payments and sales quotas and phone 


bills and time clocks—as if haunted by 
nostalgi т 501 old indefinable still 
ness, timelessness now lost. 


pasts. They invoke the bingo mad 
the ones that still pay olf. devices th 
have the doomed unkept look of mean- 


gid quality of obstinate rige 
amid a wide litter of shredded nickehroll 
wrappings like the mumberless spent 
cartridges of some furious unabating 
firing line. 

Among this company one morning re- 
cently was an insurance salesman, a brisk, 
stubby, chipper figure 
trousers and diamond. shirt. 
He admiued happily—without taking 
his gaze off the board, one eye squinting 
from the smoke of a jauntily uptilted 
cigarette that pinned his grin together 


in the middle, ash dusting his scintillant 
Tell, Гус lost maybe twenty 
thousand dollars on these goddamn 


contraptions, I've dropped three hundred 


in ‘em in one day.” АП the while, he 
imained а ng undertone 
pountation i 


gleeful despair 
—no, no. you mother. You sonuvabitch. 
Nor worth a shit, look 
his shots with litle abject bitien shoves 
with the heels of his hands, muted 
unts and whines, his hips dipping 
imper 
edge of his ear and tu 
collar. “Yeah,” he reported, 
never knew for sure I actually 
was all those mornings I was supposed 
to be out there selling policies. Now 1 
got my house up lor sale to get оша 
debt. Hell. she knows now." Presently, 
with a sudden gloom like the twilight 
of an сер, a storm blew down with 


where 


slamming, ransacking gils of rain. 
“Aw, shit my car windows" muttered 
the salesman. "Look, don't let nobody 


ne, it must be about 
to get hot, with all the junk it's been 
giving me all moming.” He was gone 
only a moment, scuuling back with hi 
shirt and trousers drooping soggily. but 


hop ou this mach 


his cigarette still Hit and posted at its 
doughty angle to his gr he has 
tened back to the machine with that 


lacrity of rapt 


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PLAYBOY 


WAVE-MAKING IDEA 


to control his own body with biofeed 
back to the point of potential physical 
harm. According to a Wall Street Jour- 
nal перон. one enterprising specialist is 
teaching men how to fail their n y 
physicals by raising their blood. pressure 
10 pathological levels, 

At the Menninger Foundation, re- 
searchers are using biofeedback 10 cure 
migraine headaches. The same emotion- 
ıl reactions that cause the main aru 
of the head and face to swell. resul 
ing in a painful migraine, also cause 
blood. vessels 10 constrict in the hands 
making them cold. This concurrence lcd 
Joseph Sargent to a remarkable kind of 
biofeedback therapy: He treats migraine 
headaches by teaching p 
the skin temperature of their hands. 
The therapy has now been used with 
over 70 р t 80 percent 
of them have shown definite improve- 
ment: they use Jess medication and their 
headaches аге fewer, shorter or milder. 
One woman patient Inter used the tech- 
nique to warm her feet voluntarily 
lieving à chronic source of her insomnia, 

Many factors besides age work to de- 
termine how well a pers 
biofeedback training. Peter Lang argues 
that there are "autonomic athletes" and 
tonomic duffers." Other research sug- 
s as much: Te notes that musicians, 
artists and athletes are especially adept 
at controlling their brain waves. Anoth- 
er interesting. and logical. finding from 
University of Tennesee psychologist 
Jasper Brener is that actors may be able 
to lean heutrate and sweat-gland con- 
trol more readily than the rest of us. 
Taking it one step further, Bob Stern 
at Penn Stute reports that Method 
tors, who try to experience each єч 
they portray, ean len to co 
vanic skin response activity 
to sweating in the palms) 
than can non-Method actors 


nts, and abo 


re- 


1 responds to 


h Laster 


Of all the frontiers be 
with biofeedback, 


publicity than all the others combined: 
the alpha wave. The market now carries 
perhaps 30 brands of low-cost “alpha ma- 
chines.” which beep or buzz or light up 
to si that the wearers brain waves 
have entered the mysterious alpha s 


te 


One firm capitalizing on the craze says 
that by Jearning alpha control “you will 
relax physically and mentally .. . con- 


trol fears find peace and vita 
. . . salve problems while you sleep . . . 
create an amazing memory bank in your 
own mind . .. learn to develop extra- 
sensory perception. . . . 

Such advertising, with 
overzealous newspaper and ma 
ters, has led t0 an almost 


nding ol what alpha is. 


y 


assist. fron 


e 


namimous. 


(continued from page 230) 

Perhaps the most surprising, and near- 
te. description of the alpha state 
was given by Swami Rama, during brain- 
wave tests with Dr. Green, Alter he had 
explored 1 states of consciousness 
with the aid of Green's feedback machine 
—which sounds a different tone for cach 


brainwave frequency, including alpl 
the swami wose and sid. "I have news 
for you. Alpha isnt anything. It is lite 
ally nothin; 

In иш alpha is something that oc 
curs when vou feel nothing. И is a brain 
wave with a frequency between about 
cig and 13 edes per эсими] (cps) 
Brain waves are the constant undulations: 
in electrical activity that occur in any 
living brain. These waves are picked up 
by sensitive elecirodes at the scalp and 
transferred to an clectroencephalogram 


(EEG). Brain waves аге а i meas 
ше of mental activity: They are fastest 
during active, attentive thought and 
slowest in deep sleep. Пу, stimu- 
їз such as calleine 1obaceo and 
pheimines speed up the predom 


nant brain waves; while alcohol, mor- 
phine, marijuana and decreased blood 
sugar tend 10 slow them down. Th 


Ipha stale is typically described. as re- 
axed, pleasant, detached {rom reality. 

Alpha is a steady, clean rhythm th 
stands out from the apparently random 
squiggles on а typical EEG record like a 
1/4 drumbeat in а composition by John 
Cage. Faster activity (above 13 eps) is 
called bets. He signifies that the brain 
is active—worrying, perceiving, deciding 
or atending. Waves slower than alpha 
(below eight ps) are called. theta 
delta. The two usually occ 
in drowsiness or sleep. 

Ш adult is rel 
steepy. if his eyes are closed and he's 
thinking of nothing in particula, he is 
bly “in alpha.” (1 specify average 
because infants do not have al- 
do ten percent 
are otherwise perfectly. 

nenupt an 
pha мае and 


axed but nor 


avt 


adult 
pha waves, n 
[adults wh 
normal) H y 
EEG subject during his à 
ask, “What you just thinking 
bow" he would probably answer, 
Nothing.” But as soon as vou ask the 
question, the alpha waves would disap- 
pear and be momentarily replaced by 
faster beta waves 
alpha block; 
alpha state 


about 


u were lo 


were 


"This response is called 


person in the 
experiences it whenever 
something catches his attention 

Albert Einstein was said to be 
solve mathematical problems in his he 


ble to 
d 


while his alpha waves chugsed. merrily 
on. But if someone gave him an unla- 


miliar problem that required. conscious 
thought, his alpha state became blocked 
like anyone else's. Einstein was so I; 
iar wich the world of formulas and fig- 


ures that 
uomi 


mathematical thinking came 
lly. by second nature 

Alpha waves do not indicate total 
inactivity, They may occur while a per- 
son is actively doing something—whis- 
ting, peeling potatoes, even drivit 
cur; but at these moments he is behav- 
ing automatically and is paying no atten- 
tion to what he's doing 

So. in a sense, alpha it anything, as 
the swami said. and it is especially not 
most of the things people seem 10 think 
it is, Alpha is nor a state of mind for 
spiritual enlightenment. creative insight 
or intuitive wisdom: it does not bring 
telepathic or psychedelic visions; i 
nor cure diseases. 

The first popular report that. people 
could be mained to contol their own 
Ipha waves appeared in а 1908 Pay 
chology Today article by Joe Kamiya, 


does 


now at San Francisco's Langley Porter 
Neuropsychiauic Insitute. Experiment 
bell at random and asked 


п EEG mach 
to guess whether or not they were in 
alpha. By guessing correctly, patients 
eventually learned 10 produce alpha 
waves, Of the people who did, 80 10 
90 percent could learn to control them 


patiems hooked ıo 


ne 


to some extent. 
The carly stages of alpha-feedback 
waini п be quite fruswating. As a 


es and his mind govs blank, 
1 waves start to cuter the alpha 
Then the tone comes on and. of 
i this 
disturbs his alpha эше, so (he tone 
Ar this lemming stage, the deed. 
back seems to defeat its own purpose. 
Alter several tials, however, the tone 
no longer disrupts the subject's relaxed 
it fades into the background, like 
ons hum, and one learns to 
it without listening to it. 


range. 
course, the subject notices it. B 


stops. 


пе when he pointed out that 
the mental discipline necessary to maii 
n an alpha state was connected with 
Zen and yoga medi 
at Tokyo University had shown that Zen 
meditators increased their alpha as they 
: and the more expe 
enced Zen masters showed the most pro- 
nounced increase. 

So Kamiya tied his alphafeedback 
technique on seven practiced Zen med- 
itators and found. not surprisingly. that 
they learned alpha control much faster 
than his other subjects did. 

Yoga masters. too, have prominent i 
ph. waves. At New Delhi's All-India 
Institute of Medical Sciences, students 
with naturally high levels do ber- 
ter in their 
have lower 
with. (A high alph: 
that the alpha wave is 
strong but that it is present much of the 


Prior research 


ion 


began meditatio 


than students 
alpha levels to start 
level does not nec 


who 


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s and in a large proportion of the 
) 

These findings inspired writers to 1€: 
port, a couple of years ago, that scientists 
had discovered the brain st 
sponding to satori, and that we could 
now reach that state with a machine 

Such sensational speculations are casy 
to criticize, but, as a matter of fact, they 
may not be far from the truth. There are 


many st wities between the 
alpha state, sts understand it. 
and various meditative States they 
have been described by mystics. 

For one thing, methods 
and aims are simil shi 
has said that th. the 


Г 


tal activities 


а phrase 


that could just as easily describe the aim 
of alpha taining In order to reach 
onc mus block all distractions. 


To accomplish this dificult task. some 
people center their attention on a single 
focus and co iever they 
find that their minds have wandered 
This centering soon becomes automatic 
and effortless and alpha waves begin to 
appear 


Similarly. all forms of meditation use 
centering devices designed to reduce di 


tractions. A beginning Zen student 
told to concentrate on his breathing and 
attention to it when h 


mind wanders. A Zen master will dwell 
on an irrational riddle, or koan, such as 
"What is the sound of one hand clap 
pi or did I look like before 
пу parents met?" Yogis may concentrate 
on à visual center—a. mandala—or on 
ar at the center of the body. And i 
everyone has 
his ow phrase or sound 
(such as "Om”) that he repeats over and 
ig med Borrowing from 
pulary, the instruction manual 
popular home alpha 
states that “the tone of the Toomim 
Alpha Pacer may be used as an effective 
ma 

Considered in this light, all the sterec 
typed practices of the meditator—sitt 
in a prescribed posture, contemplat 
the navel. burning incense and renounc 
ng all worldly desires—act 10 reduce 
potential disturbances and therefore 16 
increase the likelihood of alpha waves. 

Although a distracting stimulus will 
block alpha, a constant. апсат 
will facilitate it. This happens through а 
mechanism called habitation. We tune 
out anything that is familiar and re 
tous. When someone is in the alpha 
state while а bell sounds, his alpha will 
block, giving way 10 faster. low-voltage 
beta waves. Alpha waves then return a 
few seconds later. When the bell sounds 
a second time, alpha blocks again but te 
Fach time the bell rings. al- 
pha blocks less and less, u ly 
it is not disturbed at all 

Undeniably, habituat 


over dur 
that voc 
for a 


machine 


sumes soon: 


til event 


a has its benc- 


fits—one can read this article, for exa 
ple, without being distracted by the 
shape of the letters on the page, the feel 
of the clothes on one's back or the 
sounds of traffic outside. But habituation 
Iso causes a certain sensory impoverish- 
d makes 


the sensory environment. 

Medit n apparently override 
this automatic tuningout mechanism. 
The Zen master responds to the 20th 
bell ring with the same attention he 
paid to the first. In technical terms, his 
Ipha block does not habituate. This 
seems to corroborate Zen Buddhists’ tre- 
quent claims that they reach a state of 


“perpetual here and now" with med 
tion and ok the world with 
fresh. eye. ing it for the first 
time.” Research on yogis shows that 
alpha is not blocked at all, even if lights 
flash or gongs sound or the skin is 
touched with a hot test tube. 

Could the rest of us learn 10 reach 


this painless yogic oblivion with bio- 
feedback? It may well be possible, and 
Erik Peper has done some promising 
research at the College of Mount St. 
Vincent indicating that if a person can 
learn 10 produce a strong, stable alpha 
rhythm he may be able to withstand a 
painful stimulus, such as a dentists drill. 

Whats amazing. finally, is not so 
much that we can obtain fine physiologi 
cal contol with biofeedback devices but 
that Zen and yoga disciples have been 
able to do it for centuries without 
chines. The only explanation is that they 
re able to qu 
so completely as to detect Гай 


without electronic amplification 

Neal Miller found an analogous eifect 
in his vats. Normal animals could not 
learn to control their heart rates nearly 
as well as could rats injected with curate. 
The paralysis in the drugged rats ap 
parently climinated th 
wactions and allowed them to attend to 
the subile signals coming from their 
hears. (Miller reports that in the p 
two years, researchers have been unable 
to teach rats the same degree of heart 
€ control that was obtained in 
lier experiments, He is now investigating 
the possibility that in the past few ye 
there may have been changes in the 
quality of curare available to researchers 
or in the strain of rats supplied by breed- 
ing houses, At any rate, the new diflicul- 
tics do not change the carlier conclusion 
that the heart is not an involuntary 
muscle.) 


r muscular dis- 


саг- 


1 once asked Dr. Barbara Brown, 
chief of the experientialphysiology lab 
at the Sepulveda, California, VA hospi 
tal, whether there were noticeable per 
sonality differences between people with 


naturally high а ly low alpha 
levels. She paused a few seconds, then 
sked, “Do you know what your alpha- 
wave level i 


1 said. "The machines 
weren't very good.” 
"Well. then I can answer the question 


without hurting your feelings.” she 
laughed. "In general, people who tend 


toward a lot of alpha in their EEGs are 
dull, uninteresting. unimaginative, hard- 
wor long, ordinary people 
And thats the truth. One finds this in 
everyday lab experience. All yon have to 
do is look at an EEG record and you can 
tell what kind of personality the person 
has.” 

This doesn't mean that a person who 
trains wich an alpha machine will de 
nitely become the dullard Dr. Brown de- 
scribes—and many researchers would 
consider her generalizations exaggerated 
—but there is no guarantee that he 
won't. ei 

Certainly, many people find the alpha 
experience quite pleasant. and they 
understandably wish to increase the 
amount of time they are in alpha. But 


her. 


there are many ways to do this. Just 
siting quiedy and thinking of nothing 
will result in a significant increase in 


alph 
100, as will waining in deep musde 
relaxation, Many people сап increase 
their alpha waves by simply rolling their 
eyes upward as far as possible. (This. by 
the way. is the position assumed by some 


Defocusing the eyes w 


yoga meditators when conce: g on 
the ajana, or “third eye”) И you 
w said 


t to do is have lots of 


Dr, Brown м “y stult 
yourself full of juana, or be а 
chronic. LSD use heroin addict. 


depressive schizophrenic. or have specific 
kinds of behavioral problems.” 

You cin also use an alpha-feedback 
hime, Unfortunately, on many 
hines the tone will respond 
wot only to alpha but also to theta or 
muscle tension. Dr. Brown says that onc 
man who had been training on a home 
alpha machine recently volunteered. to 
demonstrate his abilities on her tabu 
tory EEG machine, When the man went 
into the state he called his alpha. noth- 
ing came through the EEG but exagger- 
ed eye movements. The man's machine 
had been responding to his muscle po- 
tential, and by trying to “keep the u 
on.” he had taught himself a pronounced 
eye tremor, 
ametimes the conseque 
more serious. Some of the br 
associated with epileptic seizures. will 
trigger many alpha machines. A poten. 
tially epileptic person who tries to keep 
the tone on may be horribly surprised il 
he succeeds, 

Alter my conversation wih Dr. 
wn, I tied alpha feedback on the 


те 


ces can 


Вг 


247 


PLAYBOY 


248 


sophisticated research machine in her 
loboratory. It told me not only when 
alpha was present but ako how strong 


it was and where in the brain it was 
coming from. I loved it. Alter the ex- 
tended session I felt very relaxed, very 


good. I would recommend the exper 
ence to anyone. 

But while the session made me feel 
good, being in alpha, as such, was not 
necessarily the source of the good fe 
ings. First of all, there was an exhil 
ing feeling of self-mastery. Realiziny 
that Т could control my own brain waves 
was thrilling. The pleasure was in doing 
it, in turning alpha on and off a 
staying in alpha was boring. I don't 
Опи 
do, apparently, and for them an alpha 

, з be a splendid enforcer 

Also, I'm sure the power of suggestion 
colored my reactions. We are told that 
the alpha state is quiet, tranquil, pleas- 
ant. So whenever the feedback 
came on, I thought. “Аһ, it’s working 
I'm relaxing. The machine says so." And 
so 1 relaxed. The power of suggestion 


plays an essential part in the alpha ex- 
ch at the Bedford, 
VA hospital has shown 


before a person will state that an 
alpha-feedback tone is associated with 
pleasant feelings, two conditions must 
he present: (1) The tone must really be 
linked i0 the person's alpha and (2) he 
must be led to expect that the tone will 
be correlated. with 
The absence of either of these con- 
ditions has resulted in subjects’ reporting 
that the experience was not pleasant. 
ting that the alpha experience 
s you relax is misleading. It implies 
that a subject somehow makes his brain 
cells fire at eight to 13 cps and, as a 
result, he relaxes. Actually, the reverse is 


state. 


more accurately the сазе, The alpha 
experience is relaxing, but it is not that 
alpha waves as such cause you to relax. 


must 


Rather, you relax їп order to 
chieve the alpha state. Since a session 
with an alpha machine is really nothing 
more than a period of monitored relaxa- 
tion, people emerging from the experi 
ence can Feel no way bul relaxed. 

The confusion comes from the under. 
standable tendency to summarize bio- 
feedbacks advances in quick and easy 
terms. We say that a person has learned 
voluntary control of his heart rate 
skin temperature, which leaves the im 
pression that he can somehow Ilex his 
ventricles like biceps. open and close his 
blood vessels at will and direct his blood 
flow. Actually, he docs not direcily learn 
art or his blood vessels 
or his alpha waves; he learns only to 
keep the tone on, He does this, first, by 
1 eventa 
m 
nd then by 


or 


10 control his hı 


uying to detect some inte 
t. an image, a feeling. 
to correlate with the tone, 


1 seems 


thou 


concentrating on that event 10 repr 
duce it as often as posible. At this 
point, when one knows what it feels like 
to slow his heart, lower bis blood pres- 
sure or enter the alpha state, the feed- 
back machine is no longer needed and 
the person can continue his physiological 
control unaided. 


Ti is unfortunate rhat so much arten- 
tion has been focused on ways 
achieve the state, because. so 
the most exciting biofcedback rese: 
deals with methods for avoiding il. 

Tom Mulholland, past chairman of 
Biofeedback Research Society, hi 
ested that automobile drivers 
achinery operators might wi 
alertometer" which wi 
alarm whenever their br 
alpha, In a more immediate «pplication 
Mutholland is using 1 
children who have de rning difficulties 
olten accompanied by short attenti 
spans. He has developed а teachi 
chine with a slide projector that. throws 
an image only when the student is in 
beta, meaning that his attention is 
strongly focused. When the child's brain 
waves slip into alpha, the machine stops 
until he is again attentive and асаду 
to continue. 

Advertising agencies 
principles to test the 
commercials: Any 

m 


the 


are using these 


effectiveness of 


ie obviously inellecı 

A few years ago. Barry Sterman, chi 
of the neuropsychology Тар at the Sepul- 
veda VA hospital, noticed that when 


сиз sand very still, the waves in the 
sensorimotor part ol their аге 
predominantly 12-14 eps. he 


tained cits to produce this frequency 
to get a food reward, they became quiet 
эй still, even when injected with 
drug that ordinwily produces convulsive 
seizures. Since then. Seman has trained 
three epileptic patients to generate this 
12-1cps wave and says that their 
sures diminished markedly and their 
daytoday EEG patterns have become 
more normal, He cautions that con- 
trolled studies must yet be done. but 
at this point the research is very promis- 
this is the first report of а lasting 
change in a person's EEG as a result of 
biofeedback. 

Other тє: 
waves, the 
that seem to be associated. with drowsi 
ness, reverie, recall, creativity and the 
experience of “expanded consciousness” 
asociated with LSD trips. As Elmer 
Green describes it: "There is a door to 
your inner self which is locked under 
normal circumstances. LSD is one of the 
keys to this door, but it throws you 
directly into an uncharted, unexplored 
world, unable to control how far in you 
go and how List you get there. Thus, the 


sudying the 


‘bum vips’ With feedback, you enter 
slowly, feel your way around and pro 
ceed a step at a time, And you can turn 
round and come back out any time you 
so desire 
Green and his wife are studying the 
relationship of theta waves to hypna 
imagery, which is defined as “pic 
words that are not consciously 
or manipulated but which 


spring into the mind full-blown,” M. 
people experience these images just as 
they are falli sleep; when these im 


ages occur, their EEGs are likely to 
register theta waves. 
August Kekulé, a German chemist 


once dreamed of atoms undulating in a 
snakelike chain. Suddenly, one of the 
snakes held its own tail in its mourh 
The image led Kekulé to postulate the 
existence of the benzene ring, which 
has been called the most brilliant piece 
of prediction in organic chemistry. 

Niels Bohr's conception of the struc 
ture of the atom, the invention of lead 
shot for shotguns and. Elias Howe's sew- 
chine—all cune. 10. their creators 
as hypnagagic images. 

Robert Louis Stevenson regula 
this state of mind to generate 
s Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. He would 
drift into reverie and command “the 
brownies” of his mind to furnish him 
with a story while he slept. He could 
even return to this state Later 10 change 
satisfactory ending. 
arse, we don't 
of these men's brain waves at Ihe mo- 
ment of their creative insights, bur from 
what we have lea оріс 
imagery. its probable that were 
theta wave 

Ivy been very dillicult to study die 
theta state and hypnagogic imagery in 
the past, because we don’t stay in thy 
very long; we usually pass through it 
briefly on the way to sleep. 

The Greens have developed an 
ious instrument to overcome this prob- 
lem. Their feedback machine has been 
devised so ich brainwave fre 
quency has musical tone: The 
fast beta waves sound like a piccolo 
sounds like а flute, theta like an 
oboe and dela like a bassoon. (Green 
ys that im grant proposals he some- 
times claims he will try to train subjects 
to play The SrarSpangled. Banner with 
this brainwave orchestra, in hope that 
Government be 
encomaged to release more funds for 
research.) ‘The machine will even record 


ly wed 
es such 


w ihe nature 


ned about Пур 
they 


pen 


ndes will 


the information trom the left and right 
sides of the brain and feed ît back 
in stereo—the music of the hemispheres 
feeds 

To keep a subject from passing 


through theta iuto sleep, Green added an 
inative secondary feedback wigwer. 


Whenever alpha disappears. for 30 sec 
onds. a bell automatically sounds to 
rouse the subject. In this way, he can 


remain in a predominantly theta state 
for extended periods of time. He can 
observe his unconscious. i 
10 consciousness and 
and then return to theta. 
Alpha is normally bei 
theta is being unaware,” Green says. 
“And df you can learn to stay in the 
phase where both waves are present. you 
may become aware of normally uncon- 


aware and 


ous material. Apparently a certain 
тон of alpha must be present so that 
a person can bring the hypnagogic im- 


ayes over 10 consciousness." 
Green's studies with Swan 
some light on this point. 
nds of practice with 
ine, the swami 
would produce delt 


R; shed 
Alter several 
the feedback 
nounced that he 
waves in the labor 
No adult had ever shown slow 
dela waves while awake; they are pres- 
ent only in deep sleep. Yet the swami 
was able to produce delta waves during 
а preananged period of 25 minutes. 
then waken and report accurately on 
what had happened iu the room while 
he was asleep. The relevant point is that 
the swami’s record never reached above 
10 percent delta; the rest of the time was 
spent about equally in the other bra 
waves. Green speculates that it's nece 
y to retain some alpha in order to be 
aware of what is happening on the un- 
с, but nor so much that 
re lost. 


tory. 


con 

Charles Tart, 
University of California ш 1 
y way to study hypn. 
imagery at home: "Lie Пас on your back, 
s il going to sleep. but keep your arm 
n, balanced on the 
ys up with a mini- 


in а vertical posi 
elbow, so that it st 


mum of effort, You can slip fairly lar 
ішо the hypuagogic state this way, get- 
ting material, but as you go further, 


muscle tone suddenly decreases, your 
aim falls and you awaken immediately.” 

Will people trained by theta feedback 
beco aeative and generate 
great ions or Nobel Prize-winning 
insights? Green is reluctant to say while 
his research is still going on. And B 
bara Brown, who was delightfully ¢ 
did about much of her biofeedback 
work, was circuitous and nonconunitial 
when asked about her ongoing theta- 
training studies 

Most sescarchers have become re 
stained when speaking to reporters. 
They have seen too many imposible 
lines (“TURN ox мат 
К YOUR HEADACHES AWAY") 
make biofeedback sound like min C 
or copper bracelets. 

OF all the major researchers, none has 
received more publicity than Joe Kami 
ya, the 


man who first demonserated 


Nat 


"No, thank уои... I've already got my Christmas seals.” 


voluntary control of alpi ex. For 
while he seemed 10 revel in the publici 
ty and was free with his speculations to 
reporters. He talked about eventually 
curing nearly сусу bodily illness 
through biofeedback. He no longer 
speaks so freely. "There's been too much 
publicity lor me.” he said, “and I feel as 
though my work is not yet really re 
for presentation He is eo 
his colleagues will r a pub- 
y “L more than any of the 
others in the field. have been beind in 


self” he has 
pha feedback is not a uselul 
peutic tool at this time.” And Neal 
Miller adds, "I 

contol may have no more sig 
1 learning to move one's ears.” 


Some т mal scientists resent the 
fact that researchers who have lately 
hopped onto the biofeedback band wag- 


om are concentrating on the most spec- 
tacular areas of study rather than helpi 
to work out the background. parameters 
at will define biofeedback's scope and 
limits. As Peter Ling put it: “A lot of 
people are going for the throat before 
they know whe is" 

Finally, Miller fears that the public 
will expect too much too soon: "This 
exaggerated optimism may lead to in- 
evitable disillusionment which will pre- 
vent the hard work that has to be done 
to see what therapeutic value, if а 
there is in this approach.” 

So, publicly, biofeedback researchers 
have become cautious. underselling their 
own discoveries. But they 
haven't given up their experiments 
hundreds of other scientists have joined 
them. Between 1950 ab 1972, the 


Biofeedback Research Society grew [ron 
about 20 members to over 300. 


There's little wonder that biofeedback 


has been sensutionalized by the press: It 
is sensational, one of the most exciting 
new fickls in science, We сап now ex- 


plore objectively those obscure, dimly 
compichended states of consciousness 
that have been talked about for centuries 
hy yogis and mystics and move recentl 
by hypnotists and acidheads. 

The possibilities in medicine are ove 
whelming. Once one understands the 


basics of biolecdback, the speculations 
seem 10 pou forth. Can we control 
heat raté and blood pressure? Then 


aps we can prevent deaths from 
disc Can we control bı 


epilepsy. perso 
ing deficiencies, Can w 
alpha-blocking response? Then we m 
karn to ignore pain. Can we control 
blood flow? Then we may be able to 
teach a man to have an erection at will, 
or to kill a cancerous growth by starving 
it of its needed blood supply. Someday 
perhaps, the ancient dictum will be 
changed. to “Patient, heal thyself.” 

And, potentially 
many physicians est 
percent. of. human t least 
partly psychosomatic. II the mind can 
make the body sick, perhaps it can also 
make it healthy. This concept means not 


overcome the 


most 


bout BU 


only that abnormal disorders сап be 
treated but that everyone's general 
health сап be raised to new levels. So 


someday we may all be taking courses 
in psychosomatic health. If so, biofecd. 
back researchers are асабу building 


the teaching machines that will be used 


in the classroom. 


249 


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PLAYBO 


250 


МУ FIRST ORGY usus 


flask. I snap out of it. I pull myself 
together. I lurch out of my hotel room 
and into the lobby, newly colliding 
with a succession of guests, and manage 
to make it all the way 10 my remed car 
without actually falling onto the gre 


aturday. nine Pat We park the car 
by the house with the July Chrisunas- 
исе lights and ring the bell. From inside 
comes the tinkle of music and. merry. 
possibly unclothed voices. A stocky, 
dothed gentleman comes to the door 
and asks if he can help us Linda has 
forgotten the password, forgotten who 
sent us, forgotten everything, and begins 
ng hysterically. I withdraw imo a 

catatonia. Well, what is 
nat the door going to d 
alter all, call the cops? (Hello, police? 
There's a couple of writers here tiying 
to crash our orgy. . . 7) 

At length rhe man at the door wearies 
a's babbling. mumbles that the 
usual practice is 10 presercen guests, but 
that in our case hell merely take our 


seven-dollar adinission fee and let us in. 
Il of sweaty 
card and 


I hand him a crumpled | 
dollar bills. He icaches lor 
asks our names 

"Uh sl. Linda Lym 
Leeman in а strange high voice. 

“Dan Greenburg.” I gasp, not havin 
the strength to even make jt as far 
Greenstein. 

The man эму р 
names, then turns to me. 

“Ts a soft swing,” he s 

“Uh, what? 

“Its a soft swing, If a chick says no, 
don't push it.” 

“Oh, all right,” 1 say, hoping to gi 
the impression that Fm more used to 
hard swings, where, presumably, if a 
chick says no, you throw her up against 
the wall, slip the hell out of her and 
таре her. 

We cuter the orgy. We look around. 

If we did not absolutely beyond any 
doubt know chat it 


labor 


ms our 


ух pointedly. 


E 


ve 


was an orgy, we 
inistiken it for a 


bottle party. 


ow 


igh school bring yo 
Most people present have, in fact, 
brought their own boules They have 
also brought thin, 
serale dishes. The lighting is soft and 
colored. Dance music comes from a 
veryone ht is fully clothed. 
Directly ahead of us is a sort of con 
Kitchen-ballroom. That is it 
mains a sink, stove, refrige and 
tiny dance floor. About three couples 
re dancing. The rest are talking in twos 
or standing around looking pitiful. 

‘The age ra carly 30s to mid-50s, 


sin homey covered. 


“ 


aon 


ge 


The men wear mainly short-sleeved 
flowered shirts and slightly too-short 
slacks, the women a wide variety ol 


things from pants suits to hotpants to 
long dresses There is one woman who is 
well over six fect tall. There is another 
who шау weigh as much as 300 pounds 
There is a moderately ativactiv 
sian lady with а highenecked shiny silk 
dress slit all the way up her thigh who 
looks as though she spends her nonorgy 
time seating people in Chinese restau 
rants, There are many men with long 
sideburns but skinny bes. They 
ave not how shall one put і аре sort 
of folks one would have voluntarily se- 
lected as sex partners. On the other 
hand, one was not consulted, 

There is a great profusion of signs ii 
Day-Glo lettering posted all about. ex 
honing one 10 smile, 10 have a happy 
у. 10 be friendly, to do one's own 
thing. There is one particularly promi- 

n that catches my eye 1 


ura 


am tokt is the Sw redo: 
1 bO MY THING AND YOU DO YOUR 
THING. 1 AM NOT IN TS WORLD TO 


LIVE UP TO YOUR EXUFCTA MONS, AND 
YOU ARE NOT IN THIS WORLD TO LIVE 
UP TO MINE, YOU ARE YOU AND I AM 
AND IF nY CHANCE FIND клен 

OTHER, Ts BEAUTIFUL 
— FREDERICK S. HERES 


we 


Questions ol whether 1 am 1 or Lam 
me aside, it seems a reasonable enough 
credo. Linda and I stand there, reading 
the credo dor perhaps the 10th time, 
ything else, when I 
ks like someone I 


tenifed of doing 
spot a person who | 


might be able to talk to withe 
out. He is a ya 
jns 


1 pasing 
person weaning blue 
(as 1 am) and wearing rather 
i ck in a ponytail (as I 
am not), but the point is that he looks 
bout as out of place as 1 feel. 

mid 1 introduce 
bim aud discover that his name is Jesse, 
that he is trom Oklahoma and that he is 
a guitarist. 1 see this as hopeful—a per- 
ип. Actually, says Jesse 
fill in the gaps, moneywise, between £ 


ir tied 1, 


Linda ourselves. to 


son in 
gigs. he sells tires. How lor 
been between guitar gigs? I ask, About 
tight years, Jesse figures 

We ask Jesse to show us around and 


he does. He pomis out a room adjacent 
b 


kirchen-ballvoom that contains а 
movie projector, screen, several сапу of 
stag film, and that also contains several 
dothed couples siting arouul geuing 
acquainted. He points out a Large empty 
bedroom with a large empty bed and 
indicates that there are three more bed- 
rooms, а shower amd a sauna right up 
those stairs there. 

"Say" he says, “how'd 
the caves? 

We say sure, wonder 
ave in 
tion thi 


to the 


you like to see 


ny whether we 
a stalactive-stalaginitedistine 
d whether, in fact, this en- 


lor 


tite setup 
giant sever 


s really an orgy or merely а 
dollar puton 

Jesse leads us through a beaded cur 
tain into that looks like 
fourth-rate Jean Cocteau fantasy of a 
Pullman sleeping сат. It is a room that 
has been divided into cubicles on two 
levels. the floors of which are mattresses 
covered I as the walls of which 
Hush with the edges of the mattresses 
amd the ce ich are scarcely 
high enough to sit under without bump 
ing your head against them. The whole 
charcoal 
gay foam rubber spattered with Day 
Glo paint and 
eee of the black 
things such as tee 
Anorescent purple 
Whatever else one may 
it Gumot possibly be light те 
veals teeth and sheets as fluorescent pir- 


ight is that white 
п and sheets appear 
Чу маң 


edi 


ple and vaguely stained. And 
stains there assuredly are. Оп every 
tooth and sheet in the place. 

Jesse excuses himself, saying he n 


get back to his little woman and 
duce her around. He steps over us 
huddle in the crawl space between cubi 
cles, and just as we are deciding what to 
do next, а dothed couple comes straight 
through the beaded стай, ducks imo 
а cubicle to our right and immediately 
articles of clothing come flying aut into 


the crawl space, I turn to gape and, al 
though my view of the couple is limited 
to toss at one end and lower thighs 


at the other, I can see by the position 
and the motion of the legs Шш definite 
intercourse without foreplay has just 
commenced. 

Searcely the first couple begun 
than a second couple enters and steps 
into the cubicle t0 our immediate elt. 
Clothes once more come flyin: nd 
although my view of this couple is only 
from shoulders to waists, it is apparent 
thar these folks have Ше truck 
with [orepl 

A third couple c the sancta 
(has someone outside blown a whistle?) 
and climbs nimbly over our backs 
up a ladder into а cubicle directly al 
our heads. More articles of clothing 
come Il and soon we are sum 
rounded on es by copulatin 
(and, one might add, mysteriously luli 
cuted) couples 

Since Lind re loath 19 make 
the commitment of crawling out of the 
crawl space into an actual cubicle our- 
selves, 
to become à n Hic jam. we l 
ош ol the caves and return to the sta 
ii as. 
rest of the house is much as we 
left it, Couples still dance in the kitchen 


out. 


Iso 


ul since we are clearly about 


ck 


and sit chatting in ihe porno mavie 
room. Most of them are still clothed. 
One cleicut young kul in Jockey shorts 


The happy vodka. 
Gordon er 


To a vodka drinker, happiness is 
smoothness. Smooth mixing. 
Smooth tasting. And smooth going down. ®» ә 


Gordon’s is 
the vodka with the б 
Patent on smoothness. 


That's why Gordon’s is 
the Happy Vodka. So make it Gordon’s. And make it happy. rl 


80 PROOF. DISTILLED FROM GRAIN. GORDON'S DRY GIN CO., LTD., LINDEN, N.J. 


PLAYBOY 


252 


“I know it sounds like a dam[ool question—but where am 1?” 


enters somewhat breathlessly and is 
тахса about copulatory fatigue. He 
unsuccessfully picked up by a р 
looking middleaged lady in toreadors 
who promptly turns to me and 
something about ice cubes that sounds 
Finty suggestive. The lad in the Jockey 
shorts jogs olf and is replaced by а 
defin d. seriously pudgy fellow. 
Ча is standing three yards away 
from me with her back turned, as the 
naked pudgy fellow approaches her 
from behind and puts his hands on her 
waist, Linda, thinking it is me, grasps 
the hands, turns around, sces the pudgi- 
ness and the nakedness and bolts for the 
bathroom. The naked pudgy fellow 
shrugs and pads away. 

Up the stairs one can see a great deal 
of frenzied activity. Several naked per- 
sons of both sexes, most with dumpy 
bodies, are running back and forth be- 
bedrooms, shower and sauna, gig- 
moderately. A dothed person at 
my elbow y absorption with the 
upstairs activity and suggests I take a 
shower. I sty thanks but I've already had 
two so far th Then I spot 
Linda darting out of the downstairs bath- 
room, still somewhat shaken. 

As we stand there, trying to decide 
whether leav а permissible cop-out, 
а stocky man with a shortsleeved shire 
and a pencil-thin mustache approaches, 
introduces himself as Freddie, informs 
us he а stunt man at MGM and 
indicates in no uncertain terms h 
mediate fondness for Linda. The way he 
indicates this fondness is by placing 
hand behind her neck and drawing her 
towmd him by her hair. I recall aloud 
the admonition that this is a soft swing 
heard. 
Freddie has been a member 
г club for years, He 
are members of fiue 
he says, but this club is 
itely the best. 

“What makes this one the best?” asks 
Чашу disentangling her hair from 


tweet 


evening. 


im- 


and wonder whether Freddie 
He 


has. 


says Freddie, “the 
ds boggle as we try to conjure 
up images of the caliber of people at the 
four other clubs. 

Freddie asks whether we have seen the 
pool. We have not. Leading Linda now 
by the hand rather than by the hair, he 
vxoris us into the back yard and to a 
floodlit swimming pool that is both un- 
occupied and unheated. 

“This is the pool,” says Freddie, per- 
haps fearing that we believe it to be 
something more sinister 

1 stick my hand into the water and 
remark how cold it is, whereupon we are 
treated t0 our first bona fide tacky sex 
joke of the evening 
No sense ruining a perfectly good 


that cold wa Freddie 


member in te 
ay 
We chuckle politely, but apparently 
Freddie fears that the double-entendre 
how cluded us. 
sense ruining a perfectly good 
member in that cold water,” Freddie 
ice more. 


another r n of the 
tly change the subject 
how he саше to be a 


pet 


swinger. 


"Well. sir." he says, "I guess you could 


say I became a swinger in order to save 
my marriage 

"How's that?" 1 say. 

“Before we became swingers,” he says, 


hell, 1 was screwing every single one of 
my wife's galfriends” 

“And now?” 
eddie’s face breaks into a beatific 
smile. 


{iê 
he says proudly, 
ly faithful." 

Tell me, Freddie." E sty, "how do 
you feel when you know that your wile 
has had sex w 2" 

Just ys. "Matter. of fact, 
Vm never so turned on to her as when 
sh got done making it with 
another guy.” 

So do you sometimes just make love 
to her right then and there?” 

“Oh, no," says Freddie, as if explain- 
ing to a very small child ı not 
make саса in our pants. 

Why not” E ask. 

Well. sir. we tend to frown on that 
sort of thing around here,” he says. "Oh, 
1 don't mean that it never happens that 
а man has sex with his own wife at one 
it's just that we tend to 
it. Why. I remember one time 
a guy and his wife started upstairs to 
one of the bedrooms"—he chuckles at 
the memory—"we booed them all the 
way up the stairs” 

Tt now occurs to me that although I 
have thus far this evening heard the 
phrases "We don't put that down” and 
“Do your own thing" a number of 
times, T have also heard the phrase “We 
ad to frown on that" quite a liule, 
reddie what other types of 
s they tend to frown on 
shindigs. 

“Well, we tend to frown on things 
like . . . oh, like more than two people 
making it with one another at the same 
time ... on people watching other people 
while they're making it . . . We tend 
to frown on people who come here with- 
out partners. . . . We frown on homo- 
lity. . . . And we very definitely 
on somebody seeing somebody on 
the outside that they've met at one 
of our parties.” 

“Why is that?” I ask, but I th 
already know. 


y we became swingers,” 
1 have been complete- 


s just 


we de 


these 


kl 


“Because,” says Freddie, “that's adul- 


tery.” 


The orgy in the Valley has not been 
devoid of value, but neither has it pro 
vided me with the opportunity I so 
ambivalently seck: to take part in the 
festivities and 1ake note of my reactions. 
here's a place I've heard of that we 
probably ought to check ont. i 
da. “It's called Topley Toc 

“Where is it?” | ask 

“I don't know exactly, but they run 
ads in the Free Pr 

Celebrate the Fourth 
witha 
BANG! 
In face 
spend the holiday at 
our place and you'll 
probably get 
BANGED A LOT! 
Special events Jul. 1-4 
*And then we have“ 
MON. 
ees GET NAKED NIGHT 
*As il that’s not enuf* 
WED. NIGHT 
STRIP CONTEST 
Cash prizes * Bare asses 
THORS. COUPLES NIGHT 
Would you like to have 
a strip comest at our 
Thurs. night couples 
* Dancing nigi 
No door chg.—No cover 
von 
торку тоо 


8875 Pico * 271-1370 
eee 
KAMERICARD & MASTER OK 


—Ad 
Free Pre: 


the Los Angeles 
s, June 30. 1972 


I decide to skip Topley Too. 


grope places, 1 feel this type of place 
may be the least traumatic way for me 
to get my feet (or whatever) wet. I 
recall that а well-known writer 1 
friendly with in New York has 
tioned visiting one of these places 
put in a longdistance call to him. 

My writer friend has, indeed, spent 
at the best one of these places, but 
seems somewhat disturbed. to lcam of 
my interest. He is writing something 
about this topic himself and feels: 
ary interest in the place. 
I have no intention of 
to scoop him 
> about the pl 
tily it by na t in all 
conscience mother writer not to 
bout something just because he 
ppens to be covering it, too, but I 
sense his extreme nd I don't 


253 


PLAYBOY 


push it. I don't even ask him the name 
of a person to call there. 

lt has begun to seem to me that so 
many writers are now writing articles 
and books about orgy-related topics that 
like the Communist movement of 
the Forties and Fifties, when half of the 
people at every cell meeting were FBI 
men. I would not be surprised to find 
that half the people present at any giv- 
cn orgy in Los Angeles or New York are 
writers d rch, all interviewing 
and/or fucking onc another, profession- 
ally if not carnally. 

1 telephone the place my writer friend 
has spent time at and I'm referred to its 
publicrelations man. Unwilling for the 
moment to dwell on either the sociolog 
cal ramifications or the punning poss 
bilities of its having a public-relations 
man, | tell him quite straightforwardly 
of my interest їп visiting. He 
to the visit and gives direction 
getting there. 

After nearly an how's drive along the 
occan and up narrow winding roads 
into the mountains, Linda and 1 arrive 
at our destination. It's 5:30 р.м. and the 
view in all directions from our mountain- 
top is spectacular. We discover w 
both every bit as nervous now as we were 
at the orgy in the Valley. so we each take 
long pulls on my flask of vodi 


ar 


The grounds scem deserted. The only 
sounds 10 be heard are the soft splashes 
outdoor foun- 


of water from the sever 
tains, We approach the ai 
and enter. What we have entered is the 
immense living room of the main hous 
A dozen atwactive young people s 
ding. playing cards or chess or chat- 
ting quietly. They are all quite nude. 
One of them comes over to say hello. 
This is our PR man, and he leads us off 
to a corner of the room to sit down, 
drink some hard cider and talk. 

The PR man is about 30, nice-look- 
ng. very tin, very healthy, very intelli- 
gent and articulate and gend 
nude. It is at first difficult to overlook 
the fact that you are talking to an 
actual nude person and then, fairly 
soon, not so difficult. As we talk, I feel 
my tension and. apprehension 


and very 


of peacefulness ov 
ing is so peaceful it’s almost corny 
I begin to be embarrassed about how 
peaceful I feel. T say this aloud and the 
PR smiles and tells us that the 
entire place has been designed to clicit 
just such feelings of peacefulness—the 
sounds of fountains, the carih colors and 
the natural materials used in the build- 
ings, and so forth, It’s all part of the 
theory behind the place itself. 

Ah, yes, I think, here comes the pitch. 
The rationale behind it all. The wha 
we-believe-in-and-why. But no pitch is 
forthcoming. I learn that the place is a 


man 


254 sort of nudist colony, for want of a 


better term, that has ten full-time adult 
residents and about 200 or so membe 
who come here to swim, sun-bathe and, 
mainly, make love to of the other 
members who happen to be in the mood. 
The feeling is that members should be 
free to have one primary intimate love- 
sex relationship and a number of sec- 
ondary ones. that the secondary ones 
won't detract from the primary one but 
will n t even better. 

Before we know it, we've been talking 
а hour and a half. He asks if we'd 
like to go for a swim. (It is clear one 
does not swim in swimsuits here) Linda 
hesitant. I say sure. He gets us towels 
and points the way to the indoor swim- 
ming pool. 


‘The pool is deserted. First I, and then 


Linda, take off our clothes and our 
glasses and enter the warm bathtubby 
water. We are not splashing around for 


more than ten minutes when we per- 
ceive that a small blurred group of peo- 
ple has come into the pool building and 
shucked clothes and entered the wa- 
ter. Tragically, both Linda and I are so 
nearsighted without our glasses it's im- 
possible to even see what they look like. 
There is a certain amount of splashing 
around and there are voices, and then the 
voices become still and it strikes me that 
what we may have a scant few yards 
way from us are two or so couples 
engaged in some level of foreplay. For 
all 1 know, they may even be screwing, 

"Listen," 1 whisper to Linda, “J don't 
want to be so obvious as to actually 
paddle over and ask what they're doing, 
but what do you think is going on over 
thei ight? 

1 squints unobtrusively in the 
proper direction. 

“It's either a guy hugging 
a lady or hugging and kiss 
ball,” she confides. 

There is a certain stunning irony in 
the fact that we have both progressed to 
the point of total nudity in the compa 
ny of equally unclothed people and that 
we are both so blind we can't even tell 
if we arc in an orgy. 

After a whi ssortment of 
people and/or beach balls is present gets 
out of the pool. dries off and leaves. We 
па are 
ight 

to the 
asant dinner 
le orgying, we prepare to 

that the main re 


md kissing 
g a beach 


n whatever 


get out of the very warm water 
suddenly freezing in the brisk 
We dress hurriedly and return 
main building. After a pl 


and no vi 


go. We le won we 
haven't эсеп any lovemaking. (assuming 
that what we vaguely saw in the pool 


w 


rt lovemaking) is that their major 
get-togethers happen to take place oi 
Wednesday and Saturday nights and 
today is Tuesday. 

Back in the саг, I can't stop raving 
about the place and its people. I ask 
Linda if she's as impressed as I am. 


“Is a very nice place, and the people 
are really sweet. But I think one reason 
you're so knocked out by it all is that 
jou're just not used to the California 
life style,” she says gently. 

It is two weeks later. I am back in 
New York and have spent a fruitless 40 
or 50 phone calls trying to drum up an 
orgy to go to and I am running out of 
contacts, patience and time. My editor 
keeps calling to find out when he can 
expect the manuscript. I tell him I can't 
even begin writing the manuscript till 
I've taken part in an orgy. There is no 
denying the pressure. 1 have less than a 
week now to cither come up with a 
viable orgy or else miss my deadline and 
be forced to beg out of my assignment. 

And then—success. A friend of a 
friend of a friend has found a chap who 
used to be very into the orgy thing, and 
although he has mostly dropped out of 
it now (he has a meaningful relation- 
ship with three chicks he really digs), he 
has agreed to throw їп my 
honor. It is to take place this coming 
Wednesday in his posh East Side ap 
ment and it will begin promptly at nine 
P.M. Sensing my nervousness (no mean 
trick, this), the host kindly suggests I 
stop by his place about 4:30 Wednesday 
afternoon to meet him and look over 
the apartment, eliminating two of the 
many unknown factors I'll be forced to 
deal with when my hour of trial arrives. 


an oi 


Wednesday, 4:30. My host is a tall, 
athleticlooking guy 30s—intelli- 
gent, articulate and mice. His name js 
Walt. It is not clear what Walt does for 
a living, although one has heard he is 
a gambler and has managed to gamble 


ay a ChrisCraft, а Maserati and a 
much more sumptuous apartment than 
the not-unsumptuous опе we are stand- 


ing im. He shows around. Good 
modem furniture. Chrome and leather. 
Fur rugs. Lage wall mirrors in the bed- 
тоот. "In arıment,” says Walt 
wistfully rors were on the 
ceiling. 
What do you do, Walt?" I ask. 

What 1 do, Dan, is make love. "That's 
mainly what I do. It's what 1 like best, 

's what I do best, and everything else is 
just to fill in the 

Walt estimates he has made love to 
about 1000 women in his 15 усш» of 
orgygoing. 

A dog of spaniel descent enters and 
gives me the once-over. 

“That dog," 
to give the best h He's not 
pushy about it, though. He won't come 
over and do anything unless you invite 
him.” 

Walt fixes me a Scotch and water, as 
an attractive young woman finishes tidy- 
ing up and as delivery boys arrive with 


me 


cases of liquor and mix. Another young 
woman—the caterer, says Walt—has just 
left, after Jaying in a supply of delicacies 
such as Devil Dogs, Good Humor bars 
and Reddi-Wip. Walt himself has a 

ready spent a lot of time in prep 


ation, 
X good orgy has to be as carefully 


choreographed good ballet," he says. 
“Гус already chosen the cast, set the 
lighting, planned the flow of the cve 
ning. | preprogramed all the music 
you'll be hearing ton 
deck. T polished up the vibi 
the dildos and I told the maid to put 
out the dark sheets” 

host is obviously getting a great 
kick out of his role, and when 1 leave, I 
feel I could not be in better hands. He 
says he'll sce me at nine р.м. sharp. 


My date for the evening is an attrac. 
tive young actress named Mary-Jenifer 
Mitchell, who has been in Oh! Calcutta! 
and The Dirtiest Show in Town and 
who is on loan from her preposterously 
generous boyfriend. (When you call 
them and they aren't home, their answer- 
ing machine “Ph leave your 
name, phone nun avorite erog- 
enous zones") Mary makes no pro- 
nouncenu bout nonparticipation in 
this cvening's festivities, she merely re- 
quests that I use her real name in my 
le. 

Have you been to lots of orgies, 


ats 


Mary?” 
She thinks a bit. “I don't guess I've 
really been to any,” she says. “But of 


course I've thrown a couple. 
Mary, like Walt, is somehow able to 
sense my nervousness and suggests I 
meet her an hour before the orgy for a 
drink. What makes anybody think I'm 
nervous? Just because I've been nauseat- 
ed and unable to eat every day I thought 
there was the remotest chance 1 was 
going to an orgy? Just because Гуе lost 
15 pounds since I began ту research? 


Wednesday, nine т.м. I have show- 
cred, shaved, cologned ned 


my body with precious oils, st 
nausea 


repeated attacks of the 
shakes with the bener p bottle of 
Myers's ram. I have met Mary at a bar 
and together we have consumed more 
liquor and 1 have gotten us a cab for 
the remaining three blocks to the orgy, 
due to serious doubts that I will be able 
to keep putting one leg in front of the 
other for so vast a distance. We are 
leaning against our host's doorjamb and 
ringing his bell. He opens the door and 
ushers us into the apartment, which has 
been magically transformed into а pleas- 
ure garden. 

There are candles. There 
There is exotic music. Th e my 
hosts three atraaive girls, clothed. 
There is my host himself, clothed. 1 am 
10 put myself completely in his hands. 
He will guide me through this entire 


experience. He will tell me exactly what 
I ought to do at every step. 

“1 think you ought to sit dow 
says. 

1 do. Mary sits down next to me. 
There is a definite lack of spontaneous 
conversation among those present. 
There is а ring of the doorbell. There is 
another couple. There are passed around 
for sniffing certain powders. certain pop- 
pers. There is yet another ring of the 
doorbell. There is our final couple. 

“I think we need your chairs now,” 
says my host to me and Магу. "Why 
don't you two go into the bedroom?" 

We certainly can't fight logic like that. 
We get up. We go into the candlelit 
bedroom. This is it. This is really it. 
There is absolutely no way to chicken 
out now. We have passed the point of 
no return. I smile at Mary. She smiles at 
me. We take off our clothes. I take off 
my glasses. I can't sec a thing. We get 
into bed. We get 10 work. 

A personage has materi 
side, divested himself of 
joined us in the bed. It is our host. He 
graciously helps me make love to the 
wondrous young woman whose answer- 
ing machine requests one's erogenous 
zones and who insists that her real name 
be used in my article. I wonder how I 
feel about having another guy make 
love t0 my date and. decide the thought 


* he 


ized at our 


is not appropriate to the situation. My 
host disappears. Then he reappears, this 
time with one of his gi аге four 
of us in bed. Then а people 
in а huge bed somewhere on Manhattan's 
posh East Side, all having some form 
of sex together, and I, by God, am 
one of them, 

І keep thinking to myself, “Look how 
I'm really doing this, Look how I'm at 
least physically a part of all this, Look 
how Pm at least intermittently potent, 
Look how God is not hurling bolts of 
lightning to incinerate me,” and I keep 
thinking how detached and on-the-out 
side-looking-in I feel and it's like being 
at a screening of a very blurred stag film 


and I keep wanting to yell “Focus!” to 
the projectionist. 
At one point in all this activity, T 


hear my host say, “OK, Greenburg, ume 
to fuck a stranger. I feel myself 
being lifted up olf one lady and onto 
another. Good old Walt. Keeping things 
moving. Choreographing. Bless him. T 
adjust myself to the new lady, nod a shy 
hello and set to work. 

At another point in the evening. I 
find myself fondling and kissing an arm 
1 believe belongs to the young woman 
I am currently entertaining, then dis- 
cover that the arm belongs to my host- 
I mumble apologies but see they're 
not needed. My host's concentration is 


“According to this, one of us should be a woman.” 


255 


2 


PLAYBOY 


5 


6 


somewhere other than on his arm. He 
and another lady are, by coincidence, 
busily at work on the same lady Рт at 
work on. I apologize for apologizing and 
return to the task at hand. 

It is two лм. We all stop and go into 
the living room for snacks and such. I 
learn that one of the men present is 
investment banker, one is an attorney. 
One of the women is а graduate student 
in English lit, another of the women 
some sort of fashion designer, a third. 
seems to me, is a manicurist. I could be 
wrong could be wrong 
bout a lot of things. Like whether or 
not I'm really here. 

By 3:30 it is over We put on our 
clothes, thank our host and stand at the 
door exchanging polite nice-to-meet- 
vous. I want to ask. "Was it good for all 
ol you, too?” but I don't. I say to the 
posible manicurist that I'm not sure 
whether I've had her, but, if so, it was 
nice. She laughs, thinking I'm kidding 

1 pat Mary into a cab and walk slowly 
home, feeling very odd, indeed. I have 
managed to fulfill my mission by sever- 
ing both the peaks and the valleys from 
my emotional electrocardiogram and the 
result is that 1 cannot be completely 
sure of what has happened. I feel very 
detached. Surreal. Sophisticated. Blasé 
Fatigué. Ешторсап. Old. How do you 


about this. I 


like that—me, a fella that's been to 
orgie 
My wile awakes as I get into bed. 


“How was it?” she asks. 
“I don't know,” I say. “I'm t 
figure it out.” 


ing to 


1t takes me a full day to get over the 
hangover, a full three days 10 get over 
I call my editor 
news that I've 


the sense of surrcality. 
in Chicago with the 


finally finished my research, had my 
orgy and am going to be able 1o make 
my deadline, after all. 

“How did it go at the orgy?” he asks, 
Any trouble?" 

“Oh, no, not really." 1 say 

“There wasn't any trouble?" 

“Not really. 

“You mean you didn’t even throw u 

“Not really,” I say. "I did feel a little 
nauseated beforehand, but that went 
way by the time we actually started. 
verything worked out fine.” 
There's a brief silence at the other 
end of the line 

“You son of a bitch,” says my editor, 
and now, suddenly, 1 realize just how 
much of a setup this whole assignment 
has been: Let's send oll Greenburg into 
a situation where he can't [ail to make 
an ass of himself, and what a fine giggle 
IL all have afterward at his expense. 
"m sorry things didn't go worse, 
say, “I really am.” 


I finish the first dralt of this article 
and that night my wife and 1 are 
cocktail party and I am trying very hi 
not t0 act too everpowcringly b 
Jatizué | European fold. A rather straight 
arried lady we know announces she has 


just had her first experience skinny- 
dipping. Before I even 
preciate the irony. I 


forgotten how blast /fatige 
forgotten all about the 


pariment m pumping 
the st arried lady for every last 
detail of her skinny-dipping experience 
like some horny high school sophomore. 


“Look here, Brigham, either they go or 1 go!” 


POWER!/ ROBERT EVANS 


(continued from page 189) 


Couple, Goodbye, Columbus and Romeo 
and Juliet, we've had 
share of successful 
we had Love Story, у 
Godfather. They were great thrills for 
me. We've become the number-one com 
idustry and managed to do 
gita all busi 

ag company without а bu 
racy. Please understand, there were 
contributors 10 these successes. 1 was only 
one of them, 

The last six years have been like a 
lifetime of learning. It was wemendously 
tisfy ticipating in Love Story 
and in The Godfather. We developed 
both those pictures from the beginn 
It wasn't like going out and buying a 
big best seller, h. We bought 
Love Story as a sacenplay, then it was 
turned into a book: we bought The God- 
father [rom a 30-page outline and paid 
Puzo to fi g those films 


ess a 


sure sn 


as satisfying 
can ha 

So if asked whether I have enjoyed 
the power trip. | would have to say yes. 
Otherwise, I wouldn't stay in my job. 
But people change, and I think I've 
matured a Jot in the last six years, 
maybe because of the success. Now I'm 
not looking for more power; I'm look- 
ing for just the opposite. | want more 
privacy and greater personal freedom. 
Power works in a self-perpetuating wa 
The more you have, the more you want, 
like a snowball rolling down a hill, 
gining momentum and losing control. 
But thats not me at all; Fm not con- 
cerned with increasing or perpet 
my power, and I'll tell you why. It's 
position that gives you the power, not 
the man. All the people who play up to 
you. who work with you obediently, who 


extend themselves in every way, do it 
lor your position, not for you 
i 


alize 
t. Fm still just а cog in a corpo 
n a corporate head who. I th 
does his job well. If it weren't for all I 
owe to Charles Bluhdorn, the chairman 
of Gulf & Western, who had so much 
faith in me from the мап, and for my 
personal relationships with him and 
ink Yablans, the president ol Para 
mount, who has backed me all the w 
and we work as real partners, Id be 
happy to become just an independent 
hlm produ у films 
well as I could and living a private life 
all my own. 

T come home 
or 48 messages. You can't live that wa 
forever. Most of those calls deserve 


nd 1 have 61 messag 


swers, but when do I find the t 
build amy real relationships? Everyon 
esus, you're set up great. Great 
c. Head of Paramount Studios. All 


ihe dames you must have!” Not true at 


A LITTLE BIT OF PURPLE PROSE ABOUT LEARNING 
TO SKI. 


A lot of people will give you this thing 
about the courage of the first man who 
ate an oyster. 

We would respectfully suggest that 
he had nothing on the first guy who 
strapped himself to a pair of oak stavi 
and headed for the neares 

Whoever he was 
roamed, anyone who's lea 
same old way will tell you that if the 
first skier had nothing else, he had guts. 

In fact, until quite recently, guts was 
the most important single ingredient in 
learning to ski. 


тош 


А dramatic development. 


Over the last 10 y: 
of ski instructio 


s, a new method 
been developed 


and perfected at Killington. 

We eall it the AcceleratedSki Method” 
(formerly known as GLM). If you have 
‚plus enough co- 


even a shred of desir 


Guts is no longer the pivotal r quires 
ment. 


A great idea. 
Instead of strapping you onto a of 
6 or 7 foot skis and sending you onto 


‚ the Accelerated Ski Method 
works vou up to full-size gradually, 
Your first lesson is on 30 
struction skis. If you can walk you can 
get around on thesi 

Once you've mastered the rhythm 


the 


you have them conquered, you moveon 


re standard for your 
ht. 

uggling for days with 
and "sidestepping" you 
g, unassisted, in your very 
‘ou will amaze yourself. 


to skis which 
weight and h 
Instead of si 
ierringbon 


first ho 


1Some fabulous plans. 


Learning to ski is nof impossible. 
Isalsonotas expensive as 


уопёв teld you. 


At Killington we've put togethe: 
ngly inexpensive learn-to- 
vacations, which include everything 
but your 
glass skis, mounted v 
vanced release bindings. Top quality 
boots and poles. Hundreds of dollars 
worth of better equipment than most 
beginners buy for themselves. 

All this, plus lifts, plus lessons, costs 
$40 for a 2-day introductory weekend. 

For 5 days mid-week, we throw in a 
few extras and charge $70. If you can 
swing 7 days, the price is just $95. 

Don't expeet any miracles with the 
weekend plan unless you can put to- 
gether three or four weekends back-to- 
back. But end of a 
week vacation, you're not a reasonably 
proficient skier, then you are very 
probably unteachable. 


Some terrific skiing. 


Once you learn, you'll find that Kill- 
ington won't bore you. There are four 
mountains to ski, Among the more 
than four dozen trails, you'll find the 
longest one east of the Rocky 

‚ Of our eleven lifts, one, the new 
Чоп gondola, is the longest ski lift in 


iere arc a great many 
your bones and pick up vour spirits 
when the lifts have closed. 


г 
I 


I Chandler will send you the facts, 

| Foster Chandler 

1 405 Killington Road | 

| Killington, Vermont 05751 i 

| If we know old Foster, he'll abso-| 
1 
| 
| 
1 


lutely bombard you with brochures, 


“KILLINGTON, V Vt. 


/orld's capital of learning to ski. 


PLAYBOY 


CALL ON THE 


GOOD-NATURED WHISKEY 


z ` 1 
tj n i \ е. SX | 1! 
у S t x Yl n 1 
axi t 4 Ў | 


HIRAM WALKER 
Be, p 


"d 


It mixes well. 


Its rich taste comes on light and goes down easy. 
In any drink. Even the price is good-natured. 


(© 1912 HIRAM WALKER & SONS INC . PEORIA. ILL + BLENDED WHISKEY + Bê PROOF + 30% STRAIGHT WHISKEYS = 70% GRAIN SPIRITS 


ге 998069000508 ө ] 


SUPERMARKET 


all. Tam very lonely. T neves 
ties D never go out. I am workin 
the time. 

So people who see only the glamor 
are missing what it's really 
There's terrible tension all the tim 
work hours destroy any kind of family 
life. I can't get off the phone unless I 
shut it off and g And the busi 
ness itself is опе of constant rejection. 
Constant rejection of bright People, 
people who are friends, who've put whole 
careers into films and who genuinely 
believe in what they want to do. My job 
is to reject them. Our company is of 
fered 1000 projects а усаг and we make 
12 to 15. By nature, I'm compassionate 
10 people's problems, and ГИ tell you, I 
haven't grown any It becomes 
more painful, not less paiulul, to turn 
people down. 

The other problem is that power 
ifling. It can demand so much of 
you don't grow. You become a 
g person. It makes you  egoistic, 
self-concerned and a bore, and I've felt 
that happening to me. 1 haven't really 
opened my brain to the world outside 
шу own business. I've been consumed by 
motion pictures. I sec almost every pic- 
де and that takes an awful 
lot of time. I haven't been interested in 
other people. I've been selfish, by which 
1 mean totally involved in my 


all about. 
My 


awa’ 


uses. 


ow. 


ture that's 


own 


work far my own benefit and the hene- 
fit of the corporation. 

Maybe you caught me on a melancholy 
moming. but Im ready for freedom 
rather than power. I could be satisfied 
just going on doing what I've already 
done, trying to top myself, but I want 
10 explore some other interests. Some- 
times I think I'd love to go away lor а 
year and be really private. T could. do 
that today. I couldn't have last year. Га 


enjoy traveling to places 1 haven't seen, 
perhaps living anonymously in the 
French countryside, experiencing thing: 


I have 
expe 
Гус been constantly motivated by ambi- 
tion since I was 16 years old. But Гуе 
been through some personal crises in the 
Там six months, 1 I realize that ambi- 
tion and power don't matter that much. 
You've got to find happiness outside 
that. Гус seen too many men enthralled 
by their own power who were basically 
unhappy. Sometimes it takes а personal 
ıkening, a crisis or maybe a tragedy, to 
make them realize there's more in life. 
When my conwacı with Paramount, 
hich has five years to go. is completed, 
Id like to go "dependent produe 


t experienced. In а w 
nce has been limited and 


my 
row 


ito. 


tion. I had the power trip very young in 
my life, and now it just does not excite 
me very much anymore. T'd like to use 


a much more 
1 don't mean politics. 


whatever talents I have 
unselfish manner. 


Tm really 
me, it's 


at involved with politics. To 
become like show 
performance, and I've lived through 100 
many performances already. But nothing 
would give me greater pleasure than if 
someone like Dr. Salk, who I think is 
one of the heroic figures of the 20th 
Century. said to me: “Bob, come and de- 
as much you can to help- 
ing me.” Im no scientist, but maybe I 
could ad publicize his work 

Really, I want to begin taking back 
my own life. which 1 haven't had much 
of in the last decade. Though I 
their age and its taken me a long time 
to get there, I'm very sympathetic to the 
youth of the country who feel that g 
ing power over their own lives is most 
important. They may not have the an 
bition of my generation, but I think 
they have a lesson. for us all. There are 
very few powerful, influential men Гуе 
м who have peace of mind, I don't 
think there's any reason you can't ha 
both, but if power starts to take your 
ul and your human feelings 
away from you, it's not worth it. Power 
is a tip. Гус taken the trip. I've © 
joyed the trip. I've learned from the 
trip. Now to use what I've learned to 
be a better man and I hope that I 
can help others. 

[Y] 


business—a 


vote 


aise funds 


n twice 


п 


peace of m 


257 


н 


PLAYB 


258 


ABLUTION REVOLUTION 


(continued from page 227) 


stirred up considerable ruckus, Bathing, 
anointing and massaging, however, have 
long been celebrated in the and 
institutions of other cultures. The Bible 
abounds with references to ointments 
and potions, both sacred and sensual. 
"Thou anoiniest my head with oils; 
cup runneth over," wrote the best song- 
writer of ancient Israel. And his son, who 
inherited his father’s penchant for secu 
Jar dali picked up his Shulamite 
in a litter that came up from the desert 
ike pillars of smoke, perfumed with 
myrrh and frankincense, with all pow- 
s of the merchant.” The athletes who 
competed in the ori Olympi- 
nude bodies with olive 
vented the sauna and 
public baths, at which 

in 


rts 


ads loved thei 
oil. ‘The Finns 
the Japanese thei 
patrons cleanse themselves by sudin 
one tub, then soaking in another, (Its no 
accident that Nippon has the world's 
most uninhibited legacy of crotic art.) 
Europeans of a few generations а 
ed in the healing powers of minera 
baths, amd their "spas" Ameri 
travelers home with the desire to enjoy 
similar luxuries on this continent, 

Not only is that posible today but 
10 return to our premise put 
all together right at home, in your own 
Jaye love ritual. Set the scene as you'd 
with wha accessories you 
favor—candles, perhaps, or and 
a radio tuned to some velveteen rock 


sent 


e it set eve 


cense, 


station. It's not a bad idea to follow the 
Japanese order: first, a connubial cleans 
ing: then а quiese terlude in the 
таф, with bubbles, scented crystals or 
livers; and, Ko 

There 


to make it easier—and more satisfying— 
for you to plunge into the hath-and- 
ge experience. Two scented, liquid 
soaps 10 enhance your shower are 
Vitabath Green Gelee (S16 for 21 олу.) 

nd Head to Toe Shower Shampoo by 
Braggi (53.25 for 6 ozs). which is par 
ticularly light and easy 10 use, If you 
prefer a bar, the RK men's bar (Red. 
ken, $1.25) is worth investigating: ity 
an acidbbalineed, albpurpose organic 
anser with а wood-spice scent. At tub- 
Bı ^ Bath Crystals (S510 for 20 
ozs.) will invigorate, while Aramis Mus 
cle Soothing Soak (56.50 for 16 ozs) 
will relis. Addit 
Чоп can be 
Bath Bubbles (S1 for 16 iat) and Max 
Factors Imported. British Bah Fizzers 
(51.75 lor 32 firzers), which come in 
several (we favor lemon). For 
the ү Keri Bath Ой 
{about $3.23 lor 8 ozs) is a neutral luli 
Г you prefer fragrance. it can be 
mixed with Etherea’s Biologically Cor- 
rect Oils ($12.50 for 2 ол). which f 
tures a special scent created by Charles 
Revon of Revlon. Nivea (about S3 for 32 
078) is a relatively thick substance: most 
people prefer it mixed about half and 
half with baby oil. A potion that's less 
oily than the others is Ritual Body Lo- 
tion (Charles of the Riu, S5 for 8 ozs). 
For comfort and/or fragrance alter wash- 
ing off the materials used in the mas 
sage, we'd suggest Jean Nate's Friction 
Pour le Bain (53.30 for 16 ozs). or, if 
you prefer powder, Old Spice Talcum 
(51.25 for 3 ољ). 

Those are just a select few of the 
many excellent products available to 
help you and your lady enjoy an eve 
g of intimacy and case. 


ma: 


t 


“Gee, Louise... I'm afraid you caught me at a bad time.” 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW 
(continued from page 118) 


but in meditation. So my life will def- 
nitely change. TIL have to give up my 
appearances on the stage, Ul have to 
stop traveling around—and ГЇЇ have to 
refuse interviews like this, because they 
can be very tormenting. What ГЇ have 
10 do is interview myself: the most diff 
cult interview of my lile, became ГЇ 
be the journalist, and no one knows this 


subject as well as 1 do. 
PLAYBOY: What specilic projects do you 
have in mind? 

YEVTUSHENKO: Primarily, I want to write 
а big novel. Гуе already been working 
on it. For me, doing something like this 
is like flying blind—a very delicate oper 
ation. Even when everything is working 
well, disaster still huks all around. One 
little mecha failure can threaten 
the whole structure. An incidental sei 
tence at the beginning can alter every- 
thing that follows. This book is [ar from 
complete, but I'm in no hurry to finish 
it. I'm happy with parts ol it: other 
parts don't please me. I still have much 
to lear ver much. ]H you thin of 
1йстатиге as theft, chen poets are pick: 
pockets: small-timers. story writers 
and playwrights are petty thieves—per- 
haps shoplilters or housebreikers. But a 
major novel is ceny—a big 
bink robbery Wb executed 
down to the finest detail. So I want to 
grow up то this gradually, What 1 sc 
directly ahead is a D 
three plays, a collection of critical es 
Kl then a novel That's my резо 
Five-Year Plan. 

There are other things I'd like to do. 
Га like ıo play a role in a movie 
Hamlet or Jesus or some other role. I'd 
like to direct a film. Aud Td like to pub- 
lish a volume of photographs, The hu 
man personality is so g that you 
don’t complete a man's face no matier 
what kind of poetiy you write, or how 
much of it And so as not 10 forget 
poetry, I want to do some translations. 
PLAYBOY: Up to this point in your life, 
do you have any regrets? 
YEVTUSHENKO: man has h 
1 have many ly. I wi 
than one edition of myself had been 
printed, because P want 10 be every 
whe: 
primed in two editions, one of them 
would surely live in the United States. 1 
love your country. If there wi 
edition, he would go to South Ame 
А fourth would go to Austi 
fully, Га like to be printed i 
editions as there 
world. But that would be quite a kuge 
circulation of Yevtushenkos. 

PLAYBOY: And if they ever got togeihe 
there would probably be 
YEVTUSHENKO: You're right. 


too. 


nd do everything. 


z di 


аге nations 


keeping il casual nina fom pe 192) 


ade and 


litle of the ma 


slices with 


m 
parts of 
Plant skewer every 6 or 
the way through to botia 
ıo hold sandwich in place 
cherry tomatoes and gherkins on top of 
skewers for decoration. 


CRANBERRY CHUTNEY RELISH 


Lb. can whole-cranberry sauce 
ar chutney 

acc cranberries in blender and blend 
u chopping speed until berries are in 
1 pieces Pour imo saucepan. Place 
«иту in blender and blend umil 
smooth. Po n wich cran- 
berries, Simm ed. stirring oc- 
casionally for 1 hour. (Even at e 
mer. there's a certain amount of spat 
г pot will cut that down 


үөү PARSON 
(Serves 12) 


пор 
blespoons cornstarch 

rge chifon cake (from bakery or 
market) 
Dark rum 

Apricot or seedless 


1 quart dai, 


3 


spherry preserves 


y acam, whipped 


Combine eggnog and cornst 
saucepan and cook over low heat. 
ring constantly, umil mixture thic 


Place bottom layer on a Luge serving 
Sprinkle lightly and evenly with 
mixture of 2 parts rum, I part water 

vith preserves, sprinkle with al- 
nerously with chilled. 


eggnog cust with second I 
repeat ru ves, almonds, 
custard. Cover with top layer. Sprinkle 
again with rum mi 1 with 


d top 


ard sep: 
wal servings. 


MAS-TREE PLUM PUDDING FLAMBÉ 


ed plum pudding 
ed and green n 
а 
Bourbon, 100-proof bonded or 
proof Wild Turk 


lat surface. 
cach red and green ch 
small saucepan. Add just 
bon to cover and heat just until warm. 


Now sprinkle some of the warm bourbon 
over the pudding. Spear cach cherry on 

half toothpick 
mid of 


gre e plum pudding 
simplest is a layer of red, a layer of green, 
topped with а red cherry, Warm bour- 
bon i le. Ignite and pour over the 


Allow flames to dic. Serve 
uce, 


cherry 
with hard 


HARD SAUCE 
Cream 14 Ib. sweet buüer with 2 
cups confectioners: sugar until light and 


fully. Gradu 
nilla and 1 ji 


lly beat 
m 


d 


КО? 


“See that group? 


was guilty of any os 


PRAWHERRY 


Fresh ripe strawberries 

Sour cream 

lated brown sugar 

strawberries quickly. in а strain- 
dry. Do nor hull. Pile 

ve with а bowl of 

dish ol granulated 

ocedure is to slosh 

т. then pop 


imo servi 
sour cr 
brown si 


The p 
dip it in su 


berry inc 
it into n 

Now th: 
have hailed the congu 
other yuletide goodies—th 
y Chrisin 


your host of friends 
ierocs—and 
5s title lelt 
l and to 


as 


"one of them 
1 acts, bul we got Ihe 


whole bunch оп a conspiracy rap.” 


259 


PLAYBOY 


GREAT MOMENTS (continued from page 162) 


Peacock Tavern and "beguiled their 
time chiefly with such amusements as 
the Peacock afforded, which were limited 
10 a bagatelle board on the first floor. 

Until the Dey uelle re 
mained a beguiling but obscure parlor 
game, whose interest was limited by its 
flat playing surface (which produced li 
Че action) and its requirement that 
balls be shot with bats or cue sticks 
(which required a large playing surface 
and lots of space 

The first mass-marketed coin-operated 
bagatelle board with tilted playing su 


sa 


face and plunger-shot balls took Americ: 
by storm in 1930, compliments of an 
entrepreneur named David Gottlieb, who 


insights into coin-operated enter- 
tainment while running а string of test- 
yourgrip machines in Texas during the 
are Twenties. His creation was a tabloid- 
sized box called Bafle Ball, lovingly 
fabricated out of honest walnut and 
brass, today a cherished collector's item. 
In less than а Сош sold 30.000 


of them—at $17.50 apiece. Depression- 
haggard Americans were all too happy to 
purchase the ephemeral escape of seven 
linking steel ball bearings for just one 
cent. 

Competition erupted quickly. A you 
Chicago businessman named Raymond 
Moloney played a few g of Bafle 
Ball, got the fever and designed his own 
machine, Bally-Hoo. The manufacture 
was first done by Gottlieb, but as sales ap- 
proached the 70,000 mark, Moloney be 
ig them on his own. His firm 
(now the Bally Manuf x Corpora- 
tion) and Goulieb's (D. Gotlieb and 
Company) arc still giants in the industry. 

As it turned out, one of the few 
economic successes of the carly Thirties 
was the emergence of the coin-operated 
entertainment business. Pinball 
chines were to the Thirties what 
food franchises were to the Sixties 
business was to prove disastrous to 
who entered it, but it made money 
area wh e had been made before. 


ma 


The following poured forth—clack 
ity, clackity—Jrom a free-lance pinball 
repairman whoappeared one day al the 
rLavnoy editorial offices to perform 
minor surgery on an ailing left flippe 

“Lye been into pin machines in a 
big way since I was eight or nine ye: 
old. I used to stand up on old fruit 
boxes—remember those old wooden 
boxes that oranges came in?—so that I 


could reach the flipper buttons. 
“I finished high school in Kansas 
City. but mostly played pinball. Then 


I bummed around the co 
year or two, just playing p 
South, mosily, is where they gamble а 
lot on pin machines. 1 never liked 
bingo machines much, because they 
don't have flippers, you know? It's 
really not a game of skill without 
Rippers. But il you're playing for a 
living, like I was, you can't be too 
choosy. Sometimes you got to play the 
Dingo machines to eat. The operators 
oll down there —especially in 
jana. I bet there's more bingo 
machines in Louisiana than anywhere 
else in the world. And there's a place 
at the New Orleans airport—an ar- 
cade—where the manufacturers. test 
their newest Шррег models. It's a sort 
of Las Vegas for pinball players. Big- 
time players come there Lom all over. 
I lived in that place for six weeks, 
man, six weeks. I never left the 
port. Fd sleep in the ch 
waiting room and hustle soldiers at 
the pin machines. 


try foi 
uball. The 


A TRUE BELIEVER 


high scores in the life of a pinball freak 


з down. Î got my own ipart- 
just one room, but 1 got three 
s in it. Also a bed. I've got a 


Million B.C.—thats a Bally 
ine like Fireball, really an ear- 
version of Fireball. The skill 


atures are mainly the same. but the 
play isn't as good. Also. 1 have 
Fire Chief, the first pin machine 


with an elenonic backboard, you 
know? That's a таге machine, from 
before World War Two. I had to re 


store it almost from scratch. 

Girls really dig pinball machines, 
you know? I get girls up to my place, 
get them into the machines, tun out 
all the lights. so that all we have i 
the Ilickering colors and the clicking 
relays and the bells from my pins. 
then—well, listen to this: 

“About a month. ago, my girl w 
playing one of my machines and 1 was 
balling her from behind, you know? 
We sometimes like it that way, while 
she plays the machines. She wa 
g Four Million B. C. and she h; 
over 80,000 points on the first ball. 
The first ball, man. Well on the 
second ball. she went over 100,000, 
nd then, just as she hit the volcano 
— hat's the big apple ou Four Million 
B. C—she came. She lost all three 
balls. They just drained vight dow 
she never even flipped. I think she 
finished up at 120,000 or so. Not a 
bad score, but nothing great, either. 


ed machines had existed for 
decades— jukeboxes, movie machines, all 
sorts of vending devices—but their re- 
wards were either random or predicta 
ble. Skill was never a factor 

rom the first, pinball changed all 
. Even at Bafle Ball or Bally-Hoo. 
skillful ejection of the ball was rewarded 
appropriately. Ulumatcly, a player's suc- 
ces—as recorded in his final score— 


hinged on his ability to shoot the ball 
well and then nudge it around the play 
hell (gunch it” is the pinballer’s 


phrase) to his advantage. 

Besides the psychological rewards they 
offered to skillful players (not to men- 
the money they could make hus 
ting pigcons), pinball machines proved 
a bonanza to those who owned or oper- 
ated them, A typical early machine cost 
under S20 and paid for itself in a week 
Everything alter that was gravy. A few 
years after the appearance of Baffle Ball 
every other siloon and gas stati 
America had its seven-balls-fo 
sement machine and no Lick of play- 


] 


ers. In fact, by 
saturated that most observers thought it 
could go no further. Gottlieb himself pro: 
duced a machine called Five Star Final, 
so named because he figured it would be 
the last pinball machine ever produced 
He was wrong. The use of electrical 
circuitry, one year later, added a whole 
new dimension ol play. The carly electric 
machines incorporated four dry cells that 
powered lighis and rang am occasional 
bell: 24 volts is still the standard pinball 
current. ‘The first solenoid was used in 
the playlickd of Fleet in 1935, adding an 
essential element of action. Other inn 
vations shortly followed: electronic. tilt 
utomatic scoring, free games, 
mperbumpers, rollovers, you name 
it, Then, just alter World War Two, a 
1 J designer named Harry 
Mabs joined a solenoid 10 а rubber 
added a button so that the player could 
ction and gave the world the 


32. the market was so 


gendary pint 


control the 
flipper. T 
pinball thar nor a single mach 


device is so fundamental to 
пе has 


been produced without it since. (1 
machines are the exception, but these 
hardly more than gambling de 


where skill is not a factor.) In F 
elsewhere in Europe, pinball 
are generally described as les flippers. For 


mad 


machine 
six-llipp: 


commercially in a Gottlieb 
called Humpty Dumpty. 
model marketed in 
a collector's item 
Many innova 


follow— 
al playfields, drum жог 


s were to 


asymmetri 
counters, multiple-player games, messe 
ger balls, captive balls, free balls, ext 
balls—but all these relinements, 


a 
were 


rather than breakthroughs. Матиас 
turers and designers would probably 
disagree, but there hasn't been a real 


technical breakthrough in pinball ma- 
chines since the flipper. What we've seen, 
instead, has been the gradual refinement 
of existing technology. And in an age of 
electronics, the result is marvelous to 
behold. 

The absence of recent innovations 
makes flipper machines especially attrac- 
Juals who want to buy 
one for their own apartment or game 
room. A new model might be better look- 
but a used опе can be just as much 
nd considerably cheaper. New or 


fan, 
used, the machine will be adjusted to 


t play at the touch of a button, no 

required. Play-for-pay machines 
ly require licenses and are actually 
illegal in some benighted cities and 
towns; but a Hipper machine set for [ree 
play is legal anywhere—as it should be. 

Buying a pinball machine [or your 
very own is casy and individuals are 
buying them as never before. The proc 
css is best understood in light of the 
jc structure of the pinball industry. 
In production and distribution, one can 
ing parallel between pinball 
hines and automobiles There are 
the Big Three manufacturers (Bally, 
Gottlieb and Williams, a division of 
Seeburg Corporation), а few lesser com- 
igo Coin and Allied Le 
sure) and the increasing threat of import 
competition—most notably [rom Sega, а 
Japanese firm that's actually a division 
of the Gulf and Western conglomerate. 
Sega machines clatter all over Asian but 
have not seriously penetrated these 
shores. 

You can't buy a Dodge directly from 
Chrysler, and you can't buy a pinball 
machine direcily from the people who 
make them. Instead, you must go to a 
distributor, of which there are plenty. 
These ave listed, usually under the head- 
ing “Amusement Machines,” in Yellow 
Pages virtually everywhere. Distributors 
make their living selling or leasing ma- 
chines to arcade operators. In a well-run 
arcade, a typical machine won't stay on. 
the floor more than six months, since 
operators feel that a steady turnover is 
g profits. Thus, 
st number of dif- 
ferent models, both new and used, any 
of which they will sell оши ndi- 
viduals. They also accept t 

The choice of what machi 
as personal as choosing an automobile. 
11 you're going to put the thing in your 
living room—many folks do—you'll 
want a color that fits your decor. Happi- 
ly. you'll find a broad spectrum from 
which to pick, IE this is your first ma- 
chine, you'll do well to confine your 
search to products of the Big Three 
manufacturers, whose technology is basi- 
cally identical. Within this stricture, 
your choice is your own. Williams seems 
to have a talent for producing especially 


draw a str 


п 


chines, because, оп location, they 
ently make the most money. And serious 
pinballers tend to favor Bally machines, 
whose complex. playfields and huge sco 
ing possibilities whet their insatiable 
appetite lor action. 

Whatever the manufacturer, the pu 
chase of a four player machine om- 
mended. These are far and away the 
most versatile, since they can be played 
by one, two, three or four persons. More 
to the point, they represent the top of 
the manufacturers flipper line—mani 
fested in jazzy artwork, innovative le 
tures, complex play action and ove 
manufacturing quality. A single fou 
player machine can transform а dull 
party into a memorable all-nighter. On 
more serious level, competitive play, 
where dillerent. players vie Lor top score 
in the same game, tends to bring out 


11 


quintessential pinball skills, Experi 
enced pinballers always achieve their 
best scores under the pressure of compe- 


ther than solitaire. To à less 
extent, this same competitive edge can 
be achieved on a two-player machine. 


titio! 


And for those souls who best excel i 
competition with themselves, а onc 
player model should suffice. Just as 


Chevrolets used до Gach tail fins from 
Cadillacs, four-player models still tend to 
spawn two-player and one player varia 
ions. So if you look hard enough. you 


can probably find precisely the machine 
that suits you. 
Distributors are sometimes reluctant 


to sell them, but even brand-new models 
are surprisingly cheap. Prices vary from 
опе distributor to another, so compari- 
son shopping is always rewarded. As a 
general rule, а new four-player machine 
r mod- 
round $725 and one player ma 
go for 5650 or so. Good used 


sells for around $900, Two-play 
els are 


machines, say between four and eight 
years old, are plentifully available for 
between $150 and S800. More recent 
used models are somewhat scarcer and 
proportionately more expensive 

One of the minor headaches of pin 
ball ownership is getting service for 
breakdowns. In the pantheon of clec- 
tronic devices, flipper machines are ex- 
tremely well made. They have to be, 
considering the punishment they take 
Still, occasional malfunctions are to be 
expected. Players with a smattering of 
electronic know-how actually fix 


can 


about 90 percent of these failures. most 
of which 


involve lubricating bearings, 
blown-om bulbs and fuses or 
gning faulty contacts. (A mainte- 
ince packet accompanies every machin 
on receiv it) More serious 
s—burned-out coils ог broki 
re the commonest of these—will 
ply require a house call. Here the 
owner is best oll if he has purchased 
his toy from a distributor who services 
machines as well as sells them, These are 
fast-growing minority and the would- 
be buyer is advised to seek them out 
Freelance repai 
able, but it’s relatively expensive: per- 
(plus parts) for a brief house 
леер, but worth it, because 
an imperfect pi is as frus- 
ng and as dison: а untamed 
piano. Bigtime players actually have 
their personal machines "tuned" period- 
ally, even when nothing seems wrong 
with them—the way a Ferrari owne 
might send his ?50GT to the shop peri- 
odicaly for au admiring checkup. Pin- 
balling excellence demands perlection 
from machine as well as from player 
And in pursuit of the perfectly played 
1c—a goal as illusory and as compel- 
ling as the quest for the Holy G 
one should settle Lor less. 


service is abo avail 


1—по 


261 


PLAYBOY 


BALD EAGLE IN A PLUM TREE 


bottle of my special-occasion Gallo ro 
nd m still not sure 1 can control 


that 1 could 1 
it wa 
She 


изе and 
ает, since 
occupied 
somet 


also 


suggested 
1 bind barbecue. 
1 walked in and you won't believe this, 


Harold. but disaster! Her apartment. is 
even smaller than mine, but some 
they had jammed in two more of those 
damned Kumquat tree 
20 birds (including eight more foul par- 
rots). plus 12 geese and seven nervous 
swans swimming around in little plastic 
wading pools. 

Well, I certainly don't blame her for 
splitting. E hate geese, Harold. Geese are 
noisy, filthy and mean. They go around 
aking and crapping and laying eggs 
in the rug and pecking at the other birds. 
As for my own apartment, Harold, 1 
haven't the heart to describe it, HAR- 
OLD. THERE ARE 30 BIRDS IN MY 
THROOM! The quail (or are they 
de Love 


something 1 


baby penguins2) broke my E. 
ow the sink and took a bath in it. The 
thoppings are so thick I can hardly push 
the door open to leal them. They've 
eaten 20 pounds of birdsecd, a box of 
Ivory soap and two rolls of toilet paper 
in just three days. 

As far ау Neiman-Marcus goes, Гус de 
cided to give up. I gor the recording 
again and the beeper, and just as I pre 
pared to give them a short, terse message, 
I looked around the apartment and broke 
down. 1 don't know what's happened to 
my stage presence, but I haven't the 
heart to call back and admit that I was 
the one who lelt the message—30 seconds 
of muffled sobs and a Lenny Bruce rou- 
tine Brom the parrots in the background. 

Incidentally, I found ten rings—just 
like mine—on the dressing table in Su 
sin's bedroom. I didn't even know yon 
two were friends. 


fa 


Melissa 
PS. Solly fibbed—just a little. His 
mother wasn't there at all The poor 


dear died a month ago, leaving him her 
entire estate. I did my very, very best to 
console him, I told him about the birds 
and he thinks he cm use them in 
play—background and ай of that, 


the 


Thursday, December 21 
De: 


noon, | came out of the elevator 
d be surprised what I slipped on. I 
1, there are some things you don't 

ish through your sandals 


me; 
252 EXpect 10 sqi 


(continued jrom page 128) 


on the 18th floor of what used to be the 
finest apartment hotel in town. I recog- 
nized the odor, Harold—I was raised 
in the counuy—but when I rounded 
the corner and saw them, L just couldn't 
believe it. 

1 hope you won't think I'm an in- 
grate, Harold, but since the apartment 
lease says mo pets allowed, Im sure it 
means cows as well, There were eight — 
count them, eight—Guernsey cows, each 
of them being milked like crazy by a 
young gil dressed in gingham and sit- 
ling on a stool The hallway was lined 
with big aluminum milk cans. I asked 
one of the girls where they came from, 
but her brogue was so thick I could 
hardly understand her, Is there another 
potato famine on? The super, who's 
been wandering around with a glazed 
look in his eye, said something about 
stabling Ше cows in the basement 
then went off to lean. against 
wasn’t difficult to lind. rooms lor 
girls—yowd be surprised how many 
people have left the building om my 
Поог alone. 

OL course, the cows wi 
the men de 


the 


па all that 
vere. Seven more neurotic 
swins (who splash so furiously that the 
water Пош their pools has seeped 
through to the Hoor below) and six more 
geese, plus all the rest—tings, parrots 
chickens, pigeons, quail (or is it a weird 
bald caglez) and another of those Фата 
avocado trees, I think theres a pattern 
developing. 


P.S. It could be worse. Solly thinks there 
шау be roles for the birds and the cows. 
Saturday, December 23 
Dear Harold: 
I didn't write yesterday because things 
€ tov hectic. Solly was here when the 
Neiman Mareus truck pulled up. Eight 
more cows and eight more cowgirls with 
cents that would warm Mayor Daley's 
heart, parading down the lobby, spl: 
tering the carpet. Plus all the rest. 
Then, just when we'd caught our 
breath (Im not being funny), up drove 
the bus with the dancing girls. Bless Sol- 
ly! He immedi: iely decided to add a 
chorus line to the show, working them 
imo a June Taylor rontine. As lor the 
farm girls, Solly mentioned that they do 
rather nice figures and they could 
sit next to thei 


w 


cows round, 


the back 
Not Wearing 100 much. (Solly joked that 
we could call it the Tri-Tit Follies and, 
strangely 
farm, they seemed rather excited about 
ИІ get the impression they've been 
around.) 


And, in 
through some ch 


the script has gone 
pes—Solly's original 
idea was fine until those guttermouthed 
parrots opened up and Solly disco 
ered, after wading around with his pants 
rolled up, that cows are hard to house- 
break. We'll probably тепе it Rebecca 
of Sunnybrook Farm Revisited, with— 
guess who?—in the lead role. We'll need 
some more actors and animals and may 
be another guava wee or two (you'd be 
surprised what Solly suggested should be 
going on in the orchard!) I told Solly 
we could count on you. 

Meanwhile, it’s realty crowded. in my 
apartment. You have to slush your way 
through bi ad 
sunflower seeds and p: 
girls are simply loves, taking care of the 
cows and helping me dean the drop- 
pings olf the diningroom table. We 
now got Ihree apartments stuffed to the 
uansoms with uces and chickens and 
hungup swans. That nice hairdresser а 
couple of doors down was out in th 
hallway naked—a spat with his room- 
mate, | gues—and started giggling 
when one of the chickens started. pec 
ing at his yowknow-what. But then 
three geese cornered him and he ran 
shricking out the building. 

Have 10 run—the supers in a coma 
aud Гуе got to feed him. 


In hasic 
Melissa 


Chrisimas Morning, December 
Harold: 

I've just lost a day—a complete, entire 
day has disappeared and 1 have no idea 
what D did with it. I mean, I do have an 
idea, but I'm trying not to remember it 

Those far-out acrobats showed up 
urday afternoon, just alter 1 wrote you. 
They're very aristocratic looking, and 


first 1 thought they might be—you know 
sissies, the way they minced around 


But when I saw how and where they 
balanced their bowler hats and how they 
leaped over the girls. 1 knew they were 
normal. They were followed by another 
load of lly d. d 
ihe birds and everything, and 1 knew 
Solly would be thrilled. The acroba 
perfect gentlemen and I just adore i 
British accents, Theyre from. Burke's 
Peerage, w i 

But it was the piccolo players who 
really started everything, They arrived 
late yesterday, decked out in bell- 
bottoms and long hair. After we gol 
the new cast members squared away (the 
cows, swans, eic), these hippies stulled 
their piccolos with some strange green 
sult and passed them around for us to 
pull on. Everybody went out of thei 
дошта still floating and I'm one of 
the few who are awake. We must 


acers, plus the cows 


sare 


ever thy 


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Mabe 


263 


PLAYBOY 


264 


across the street to the hotel, Sail: 


smoked for two or nee hours and every- 
body really hit it olf! 
hour ago totally wiped 
out. Aud, in a way, I'm 
much. The ap: 
g that might 
Somebody boored the 
ns out of their pools and the girls 
аге still sleeping in them—not 
bout the farm gi 
really have been 


milk one of the cowgirls. I thin 
¢ called Leda and I di 
recollect some 
and the chickens that I wi 


. Fm sure I was hallucina 


“Either yon start taking your tricks 
‚ог 
start gelling a piece of the action.” 


ad I cant di 
tment looks 
е shat- 


ng I he: 


1 finished wi 


of course, followii 


8 


berwi 


h 1 could 


ighied. He now thinks we have enough 
cast members for a resident and а to 
ing troupe. Got to go—I must still be 
from last night. ‘cause I keep in 
the sound of dr 


Christmas Night. December 25 
Dear, sweet, wonderful Harold: 
ng you this mor 
st as those cute little drummer boys 
came ratadattatng up the hall. And, 


cing gi 
jes 
g Solly there would bei Now we have 
As {аг as the show goes, Sollys de enough for two road shows. And, listen: 


Solly has booked the Astrodome for a 
telecast of the play on New Year’ 
(cat your heart ош, С 
The Astrodome is wh 


€ they filmed 


Brewster McCloud, so they can handle 
birds. 


€ | come 
le, while the piccolo play- 
mmer boys are playing God 
Bless America, the dancing ladies form a 
high-kicking cancan line, and on stage 
ight and left, the cowgirls (devastating 
in their Dale Evans see-through chaps) 
squirt milk while they sing the Halle- 
Hujah Chorus. The British 
through their leaping routine wi 
citing the Magna Charta. Then the spot- 
light focuses fronton me! I 
emerge from this enormous vat of n 
with the quail (or are they teeny os 
wriches?) perched on my shoulders. The 
geese honk past overhead in V forma 
the cows moo i 


their way through а gay refr 
(WEN gag the goddamn parrots) Whe 
the drum roll begins, the birds cluster 
around me and then fly olf—with my 
costume, Iv be the real me, Harold. 
coast to coast, in living color! My big 
chauce! 

Love you forever. Harold. Solly and I 
will always think of you as the one who 
© us our first big break. Sorry about 
ng paper. The glob in the mid- 
her goose or pigeon. 


Melissa 


Tuesday, December 26 


You Indian Giver: 
1 can't believe you would stoop so 
ight now and—nothing, 
Not only did the new cast people fail to 
show up (we were counting on the 
but the old ones all left. They 
contract ran only 12 days 
are empty wading pools, 
a few cans of curdled milk, an odd egg 
or three, a broken piccolo, feathers 
everywhere and, God, Harold, just rons 
of manure. Also the rings. Solly finally 
found out what they were supposed to 
fit, but they turned his you-know. 
green. I should have known. 
lor Sollys farm tomor- 
to shoot every anir 
on it. I don't think anyone has ever 
ised my hopes so high, only to dash 
them so cruelly. 1 was going 10 write a 
poem, maybe a son, 
dear Solly says it may айса 
done. It will take me a long time to 
forget you, Harold, but 1 intend to 
devote the rest of my life to trying. 
Melissa (Mrs. Solly) С 


low. It's n 


row, and we pl: 


burg 


IN FRONT OF Goo (continued from page 200) 


section was always filled by the lover 
boys. Very few of them had ever known 
any of those women out in the free 
rld, although one of them was mar- 
Tied to the second saxophone in the 
band. She was pregnant. Month after 
month. the prison. population watched 
her swell and swell. until she was finally 
poled just in time. The others knew 
one another only by sight and by dis 
tance, Se managed to write to each 
other by illegal letters called kites, Most 
ol them only imagined recognition from 
their paramours. But they all sat there 
п the back row, pretending to sir 
preiending to pray and pretending they 
were in love. Each one lay his forearm 
on top of the armrest of the seat. Hidden 
inside his cupped hand was a small, 
broken fragment of mirror. Surrepti- 
ly. he could look in the glass and 
see under his armpit and through the 
space between the backs of the seats and 
there catch a dim, fragmentary reflection 
of his own beloved, 

And every Sunday, without fail, right 
in the middle of the devotions and the 
dedicati and the sermons and the 
rupting the solo hymns, 
ogling and the romances, someone 
yo to the john. And 
would almost always be a chain man, 
one of the bad ones, always fighting 
or running away fom a work squad, 
one of those with his ankles shackled 
together as a disciplinary action. Very 
slowly, carelully, pigeon-toed and tippy- 
toed, he would try 10 sneak down the 
long the wall. Passing the murals 
antic postcards, he would hold up 
center links of his chain with a 
piece of swing while, with the other 
id. he would try to keep the tin cup 
ıd spoon he wore hooked to his belt 
together. Ver there would 
still be a dink, a squeak, a datte: 
eyes would roll as we piously inti 
the proper inllections—who art i 
en—lorgive us—lcar no evil 

There would be a mulled flush. a 
momentary loudness as а door opened 
and closed. a slow and р. 
ol steel ks agai 
dauer of an old soupspoon hitting a 
1 cup. There was the squeak of a 
ү igregation sighed. 

I built my time. 

The table of the printing press dug 
imo my thighs as 

picking up a bl 
my right ha 
platen pins. At the same 
ош the printed sheet with my 
my index finger со 
sandpaper Listened by a rubber band. 
‘The press banged and rumbled. Bend- 
ing at the hips, I rocked back and forth, 
my hands shuflling a fast blur of pages, 


w 


in 


the 
would have to 


АП 


left hand. 
ed with a strip of 


ing, searching 
les, the drunk- 
ds, the [lat 
and calendars. sifting 
се of 


my mind riffling and de 
among those other rect: 


faces, Шо; 
through the shadows for some ta 
substance while the press wied to bite 
off my hands. 

When the last ream was finished, T 
pushed the button on the wall. I carried 
the material to a shelf and, with rags 
and gasoline, 1 cleaned. oll the type 
locked in the chase. I washed oll the ink 
pan and the rollers, And then. at the 
sink. I scrubbed the heavy black stains 
off my fingers. 

Or I would set type. Sitting on a high 
stool. 1 would hold а composing stick in 
my left hand, my right deftly diggi 
to the small bins of the job case. my 
fingers picking up those little letters of 
lead and dropping them into place with 
а click. Each letter was upside down. 
Every word was in reverse. 


(Em quad) capital O-n-ce- (space) 
upon (space) a (space) t-i-m-c-, 


The words were tightened up with 
smaller spaces. A lead was put on top. 
Another line was begun. Those words of 
lead grew heavier and heavier in my 
hand ay silently I tried to sing them. to 
1 of my life, 
all 


ion of how it 


some 
happened. And why, most especially why. 


lilting celeb 


‘Then it was beantime. Time to walk 


around the circle of sand in the yard. 
‘Time to get into my hole. for 
lightsout. Time to 
was first bell and last bell and the blast 
of the steam whistle on the power pl 
exactly at noon. It was time for a show 
er. a shit, a haircut. a leuter. Time to re 
ize that I was hopelessly tapped in th 
huge square of tiple fences, the search- 
lights glistening on the knitted steel webs 
that had ensnared a whole tribe of haunt- 
ed. demented beings. 

So the d sed. Some days were of 
broken glass. Some were ol tin foil 
Certain days were but extensions of ul 
drcam, rem translucent. tulips 
which I dawdled. taking my ease. 

In order to get out of my cell for a 
couple of hours in the evening and in 


i 
to keep a good record. I attende 
every meeting of the sca scouts, the 
Forum of Faith Alcoholics 
Anonymous. 

We re 
luted the flag. We gave the scout oath 
dl recited the scout law. We discussed 
those projects we had discussed at the 
previous meeting: the toyrepair shop 
for poor kids, the Christmas pageant, 
the amateur night, the feather dass and 
the Spanish class and the woodworking 
class. But there were no tools and th 
were no shops and there were no books 
and the teachers didn't have time. Then 
told us all about his days 
on his college team. 
After a sient prayer. the meetings 


orde 


and cven 


“I always keep my door double-locked, because I'm 
scared of being raped by someone unattractive.” 


265 


Lal 


PLAYBO 


tention. 
tweeds 
boots. 


were closed while we stood a 
The chaplain would be 
and his whipcord and his leathe: 
Hîs face and bald head would glow with 
the redness of a divine warmth. Since 
we had no bugle with which ло blow 
taps, the chaplain ted one. With 
all solemnity, he stood there with the 


back of his fist against his mouth. Not 
n eye blinked. Not a lip twitched. 
Every jaw was knotted tight and hard as 


slow, sentimental 
spaced with ex- 


listened to 
ИП 


К ше 
phrases of guttural һи 
quisite timing. the mellifluous tones and 
the soft dimness of a certain echo. 
After the Sunday movie in the audito- 
we could sometimes see the wom- 
g taken back 10 their ward in a 
‚ surrounded by 
а thick hedge. 
ady have set. the air 
the women's 
white of. 


rium 
en bei 
corner ol the lence 
yet another fence and 
The sun would aln 
thickening blue 
sillnetted against the plastered 
the hospital wall. Led by the crippled 
old freeman hunched over and hobbling 
with his cane, the women slowly saun- 
tered along in а double column, their 
high heels clicking on the sidewalk. 
Some of them were swinging lighted 
rettes in their fingers. Others dan- 
gled handkerchiefs as a distant signal to 
some anonymous lover cells and cells 
away. Another flicked her cigarette light- 
er on and off, the flame а distant purple 
дайм the blue of her uniformed: hos 
om. In front of the rock, several trustees 
stood in the prison read. One of them 
licked lier on and oll. the 
flame dancing in the breeze, nervous, 
dim and very. very small 

The days were squeezed ош. They 
were chopped, poured, welded. They 
went by like that squad of Negroes who 
combed the footprints out of the bed of 
sand directly in front of the rock. They 
worked their way backward in a waver 
ing line of iron rakes, small geysers of 
gray sand sprouting from every prong, 

d the nights. The framework of my 
upper bunk shuddered with a sly vibra 
tion in response to my cunning mov 
ments. 1 the 
thieves, of murderers. I could hear the 
footsteps of the cell walker. the 
caterwauling of the huge black cat whe 
ived in the Newcock Court below. 

And then there was a sudden. f. 
scream that echoed our of the depths 
of the rock, reverberating from floor to 
floor, from cell to cell. Abruptly, it 
stopped, There were pounding heels 

rattling, keys. Flashlights probed among 


could hear snores of 


tas- 


‘Then Christmas, the most forlorn of 
son holidays. the celebration of a 
th that ouly reminded us of our own 
ath, the festivity that brought us little 
presents of brightly colored, ribbon-deco- 


cd mise 


eant. A re-enactment of in 


266 посепсе, a pantomime of faith. We per- 


formed three times, first for the freemen 
families, then for the wh 
ıd then for the black convicts. 
ever been a dress rehearsal 
and we were made up at the rear of the 
auditorium. Only then did the old dra- 
pery material. become available for fash- 
joning turbans. Glue was smeared on our 
Faces and scratchy excelsior slapped on to 
simulate beards. Wrinkled, striped bath- 
robes were issued. vaguely suggesting the 
deserts of the Middle E. 
reminiscences of tooth paste а 
cream. "They came down to our knees, 
more or less, which left our shoes, our 
pants legs and our prison stripes fully 
exposed. 

We fiddled and scratched, desperately 
checking our lines, seared by the lights 
amd the sets and the live ice th 
kept turning their heads to stare b 
the rear of the room. The band wa 
front, nd pious We 
males had. never seen them bele 
there had suddenly mater 
large che 
Hallelujah Chorus. 

Te was hallelu t. Those 
black gals were having a ball, screeching 
and yowling s they could. The 
high as the angels. the 
chaplain standing there in vestments in- 


up 
white 
but 
ized a 
of black women singing the 


solemi 


as loud 


band was a 


the patriarchy of а supra-Coptic 
bishop. his face solemn and red. con- 
centrating om something far away and 
benign 

Then it was quiet. Lights were trained 


on the stage curtain. 
came over the Р.А. 
storvteller describing th 


The big voice 
system. It was the 
t night in Beth- 
It was the voice of history and of 
prophecy. Tt was the dignified, stentori- 
n voice of the Lord himself. But it was 
ako the tremulous, slightly palsied voice 
of the judge. He was а nice old guy, a 
former justice of the peace sent up for 
obi 


lehe 


ining money under false pretenses. 
The curtain was drawn to reveal the 
Nativity scene. And there was the Virgi 


Mary with the Christ child, The choir in 
the back of the auditorium cut loose, 
Jones prancing am his ex- 


presion emoting his fantastic need. for 


а drink. 


We three kings of Orient ате; 
Bearing gifts we traverse afar 


up. With regal 
dignity. I stepped down the aisle, that 
baritone of mine really raising hell, 
those stretch exercises finally paying off. 
that vapid and exaggerated amd silent 
pronunciation of the leuers Q and X, 
that pulling of my tongue out as far as it 
would go. grasping it with a wad of 
toilet paper while relaxing my dia 
phragm and taking deep sighs. I could 
feel the vibration of 

breath striking a disciplined si 
1 muscle. The ph 


I was the first 


arrow and clever 
ace of 


membrane 


s right, the vowels open, the cc 
nants clear. A piece of drapery mate: 
was dangling loose around my саг. Ou 
side of my mustache kept sticking into 


y mouth. The belt of my bathrobe was. 


nso 
al 


up around my lower ribs. But just the 
al copacetic king 

Down the aisle. Faces turned up to 

look at me, to wonder. Faces turned 


that fierce spark of 
Convicts aren't objects of 
They don’t sing. They don't 
gracefully and they never smile. 

ke it to the railing. Turn. Do not 
a finger into the mouth of the 
er. Do not far. Keep your he 
k. but do nor t 


contradictio 


reverence. 
walk 


high р 
going up the steps. Kneel in front of the 
Virgin Mary. 
reha 


This 
but pla 
a chance to eyel 
of the inn 


rt had never be 
it cool, Oh, man. 
all! Jt was one 
ates from the women’s ward, 
the stills, the molls 
sbians. Or one of those who 
had knocked off her old n 
dressed in a cloak of recut pota 
siting in a celestial beam of light; 
at Jesus а toy doll. the face c 
and one foot missing. Its wig was 
and I could see the casting hole т 
the top ol its head, And 1 could sce that 
Mary was pretty old, her face made i 
the wrinkles filled with powder aud rouge. 

After putting down my empty box 
with the ribbon around it. 1 didn't 
know what to do. My knees got still. My 
own free-world shoes were obvious and 
awkward, specially shined for the occa 


sed. 


ап. She was 
to sacks, 
the 
ked 


sion, the heels badly down, D still 
had to wait for Gaspar and then for 
Balthasar to catch up, two ordinary 


scraps of prison trash suddenly ennobled 
by their own ponderous soi 


Sorrowing, sighing, bleeding. dying 
Sealed in the stone-cold tomb 


And id 
each oni 


n ihe chorus howling behind 


O star of wonder, star of night, 
Star with royal beauty bright, 


Trving 10 asume an 
adoration, I eyeballed Mary. Mary eye 
balled me. As each of us wondered 
bout the other's time, the other's fall 
d die other's masturba some- 
thing was beginning to come alive u 
der tl Мей oll bathrobe. But 
then I saw a guard standing behind 
backdrop. It was one of the cracker 
gunracks, the one whose specialty was 
breaking up weekend crap games and 
benny parties and putting Satchel Ass out 
п himself. 

tert. his mouth hard, his 
lips twitching. his swemy cowboy hat 
with the hairoil stains pulled low over 
his forehead. I realized that his posture 
was very tense and prepared. and ready 
10 spring at the first sign of n. 
‘The judge droned on, his voice all echo 


expression. of 


ions. 


His face was a 


"HUS true Рт only a duck, Leda, but I'm 


and dignity, vibrant with implications of 
the hereafter and the absolute. It was 
my big chance. In one mad moment 
ne glory, | could have died 
ке! hing, With the most appro 
prime musical accompaniment and in 
full view of the free world. I could have 
mmortalized myself. A 1 had tw do 
was revolt in the sacred name ot reality. 
ME Ead to do was lean. forward and 
grab the Virgin Mary right by the tit 
Peeping Tom would have beaten me to 
death with a blackjack then and there, 
the audience of freemen howling. wi 
prayer and triumph as he kicked 
trampled my poor, dedicated. mutilated 
body. 

But humility prevented me from de 
signing so grand a fate. 1 tried to spit the 
piece of mustache out of my mouth and 
Nip the ling end of my turban 
away Irom my ear. 1 knelt in the mang 
and tied to do penance, praying for 
«solution for being such a loser, such 
lonely, miserable, frightened Kid. So arro- 
gant, furious, depressed. Rejecer of Lum 
ly, God and county. Unrequited lover. 
Strangled by ambition. Buried alive in 
boredom 

Bless me, O Holy Mother. I know not 
what 1 did. Sway me so that 1 might 
fuck have fucked over me 

But the hymn was coming to an end, 
Ihe List line was approaching. The Vir- 
giu Mary blinked. Tl smile 
on ihe painted-porcelain face of the 
1 child. The saxophones were clem- 
up. Something was d spite of 
everything. And already I knew that 


at those wh 


ле was a 


sure I could make you happy 


people would forever shrink from 
ved by those many ghosts, all 
and squinting, still vibrating wi 
tensity of my many former lives. 


Westward lending, stil! proceeding, 
Guide us to thy perfect light. 


Ihe free world 


Faces red, wrinkled, freckled, eyes so 


ated bullet holes ii 


blue they й 
ign that sh 
с sky. Kids blond. 


ch Women 


sear 


There 
could smell it. 

The nigger rock: 

ky 
froth on a black sea of 
shaved. he A 
п the front row 
custom-made 
lived outside wi 
a He had ki 
been sentenced 


nes. 


white u 


stee 


pa 


led 
to 


had 
prison for 20 years. 


па the 


the music would di 
curtain was drawn, Mary immed 
Instled behind the backdrop by Ps 
ing Tom. But ud agai 
helore the Virgi 
knew of humi 
ing a spiritu 
simply knowin 
stupid son of a bitch. Even 
flop. Even 


Each tim 


ity that went cons be 


villa 


d been suspended. And there I was. 
The bungling burglar. Cracker of 26 
es with nothing in them but petty 


ked its protest against 


me, 
ary 
h the 


holi- 
as rape in that room. They 


ils and teeth like the stormy 
арру wool and 
old boy sittin, 
ing extra-small, 


le 


h the family of one of 


his sister 
state 


EN 


g. of achiev- 


id 


a roten, 


м of my punishment 


cash, groveling there on 
for the mercy of parole. Insomnia? 
With two year АП 
> men doing 20, 30, me 
Tt, men finally allowed 
nto the rock and out onto the yard 
alter a flat ten years on death row. To 
them, my pitiful stue of 
represented the purest [re 
years? | had driven up with a 
my pocket. 1 was short the 

arrived 

black ass 


lighted stage 


very day 1 
And yet—I was dying of the 


King forever, ceasing never, 
Over us all to reign. 


In your hole. Last bell. Lights out. I 
built апо ited 
ıs on the far window were blessed with 
an ethereal glow by the spotlights ow- 
side. The yellow plastic eye of a radio 
glared ас me from among the double 
Dunks set up frame to frame in the cor 
ridor. soft 


€ silla 


There murmur ol 
Christmas carols bei broadcast. across 
those wide, dry deserts of belief and b- 


longing that would forever separ 


was 


e me 
fiom the Iree world. A cigarene bri 
ened. A cupped hand and a ваши c 
nal mask became shadowred in the 
darkness. A slow and steady measure ol 
heels approached up the corridor. The 
s clicked oll. The black cat in the 
court sang his litany of anger 
nd sorrow. From the alcove I could hear 
the peaceful snores of the judge. 


radio w 


267 


rac 


ng gloves, meticulously noting down 
the prices. so that he could liter. make 
repayment in peat futures. 

From Potenza, as prea 
once more telephoned General Saint. 
Just Robespierre. who had arrived, as 
scheduled, at One of the gener- 


nged, O Hara 


oggi 


> 
> gourmet hunt oina pon page 190) 
passed along the discouraging informa 
M on that the search party had been 
bt reduced to nine. The hottempered 
a Land of Forth, it seemed, had been 
sa insulted in Assisi because of his kilt and, 
as a result of the ensuing imbroglio, had 
A been escorted to the nearest hontier. 
Further evidence of Montguise's route 


Siena, Perugia and Viterbo in mid-April 


(the crestfallen chefs in 
there vividly remembered his blistering 
denunciations), zigzagging his way down 


the peninsula, In an attempt to cut h 
olf in the south, Saint-Just-Robespierre 
sent Prince — Hapsburg-Hohensollern 
speeding down the autostrada to Naples, 
but ihe unfortunate prince was disabled 
shortly after his arrival, when 
dulgence in anguilla revived an old 
complaint—ánd the very next day, in 
Urbino, the Grand Duke of Smolensk 
consumed four piquant portions of por- 
chetta at one sitting and was borne away 
howling from gout 

The seven survivors. pressed. on—and 
they soon became six; for in Rome, the 
delicate nerves of the Chevalier Dessoix 
broke completely when a careless waiter 
served him an American hamburger in- 
stead of the saltimbocca he had ordered. 
эЧ he was ded off to a rest home, 
sobbing and twitching by turns. 

Bypassing the Eternal City, O'Hara of 
Cork sped South in the Duesenberg. ОГ 
the remaining searchers, he was hotest 
on the duke's trail. Every day he discov- 
ered fresh. proof. ol Montguise’s vain 
attempts to obtain an Italian meal equal 
10 his standards. In cach case, the young 
Irishman ordered, was served and ate 
the sume dish that had been rejected by 


the great gourmet. He did this because 
nd had to cat some- 

also an act of homage 

to the duke. “I will suffer as he suf- 
" O'Hara would tell himself as he 


munched his costata alla pizzaiola or de 
Bur, much io his 
‚ he didn’t suller. He found every- 


voured his fiori di lutte. 
sham 


ing delicious, in fact, amd опе 
quested second helpings. "Fm unworthy 
of that great man.” the carl reproved 


himself, as he tucked zestfully into his 
vermicelli alle vongole. “Гуе obvioust 
got a second-rate palate and hardly апу 
rds at all.” And he would glance 
guiltily about at the steaming and aro- 
matic plates being served at other tables 
the place and m 1 notes that 
at his next meal, he would try this dish 
or that one. At times he so forgot him- 
self as to go back to the kitchen and 
congratulate the chef. His only problem. 


ke men 


deed, was financial, and this he solved 
ng certain of the Duesenberg's 
such as the klixon, lap 


Weim 


robe and Von Goethe: 


Же r's alligator 


Al's valets was called 10 the phone and 
it was from this servant that O'Hara 
Icarned of the fate of three more com- 
tades. The бету Comte DeSalles had 
broken a waiter's nose in a dispute over 
his bill at Bari and had been forcibly 
repatriated; while а, Colonel 
Mendoza de Cordol ic suscepti- 
bilities had been so galvanized by 
garlicky spezzatino that he, too, had 
withdrawn, The Baron of Batipaglia. 
meanwhil tapped im a 
Rome traffic jam and was not expected 
to be freed for at least a month 
the general?" 


OF 


Аһ, monsieur. The valet. strug: 
gling against his emotion. told the tc 
ble story. That very day, in the hotel 
dining room, Saint-Just-Robespierre had 
so gorged himself on ravioli that his 
comets had split, subjecting his uniform 
to such а sudden pressure of Hesh thar 
his buttons and war medals had gone 
whizzing like bullets through the room, 
two guests and the wine stew: 
The general himself had been the 
most cruelly wounded. His awn Croix 
de guerre. vicocheting olf the chandelier. 
had struck him in the mouth. breaking 
his dentures. The two valets now had no 
choice but to stuff the old warrior into 
the back of the sall car amd reunn 
posthaste 10 Paris to his orthodontist. 
OH. hand trembled as he re- 
placed the telephone receiver. Onc by 
one, the gallant had fallen. OC that 
bright band that had so bravely set forth 
from Paris a few short weeks ago. only 1 
and Lord Harmsby remained. Bur where 
was Harmsby? Nothing had been heard 
of him since May 15. when he had 
reached Gubbio in time for tea. Probi- 
Му Harmyby, too, had been claimed by 
ind, then he. O'Hara 
of Cork, was the only one left. and the 
responsibility of finding and saving the 
duke was wholly his. Apprehensive and 
shaken, O'Hara hurried on his way. 


il so, 


He arrived ar the toe of the Talian 
peninsuls on June first. There. at the 
waters edge, Пе saw a familiar and 


heartening sight. It was the lean figure 
of Lord Harmsby, pacing back and forth 
beside his parked Rolls, casting nerv- 
ous glances out at the Stait of Mess 
hom time to time. The Briton greeted 
O'Hara. gloomily. “They told me at a 


restaurant in town that Montguisc passed 
thro " he said. "They 
served. hiin lae alla саайа 


V 


“He refused it. He told them they'd 
cooked it five seconds too long.” Lord 
ed. “Well, it's supposedly 
specialty, so I wied it myself.” 
"How was it? 
Lord Harmsby averted liis gaze. 
he muttered аный 


way absolutely mi 
ticed that he was not nearly so lean as 
he had been before and that. in fact, his 
midsection was now graced by a mild 
paunch. “But, in God's name.” the peer 
added. “don't breathe a word about it to 
the duke, if you find h 

“I 1 find f 

"He's in Sicily now, you sce.” Harm 
hy gestured out the strait. where 


ferries undulated on the choppy wat 
“You must follow him alone, O'Hara, 
for I cannot. I'm по sailor? he e 

plained, "The mere sight of the sea 
sometimes—" He said no more but 
turned away unsteadily and climbed 
back into the Rolls. "Good luck,” he 


icked and 


called out queasily. Then he | 
tumed the car and sped away. 


Thus, through Sicily, Earl O'Hara of 
Cork searched alone. 
He pursued his noble quarry first 


through the restaurants of the leading 
cities, where he discovered many a de 
Лесе dish and a rich variety of invi 
orating wines but no word of the duk 
sing in Palermo only long enough to 
market the Duescubergs олари тай 


en loose, O'Hara di 
to the towns and villages. He drove 
through lush valleys and up sun-baked 
coastal hills, his eye alert for every rustic 
establishment where Moniguise might 
have stopped. But his inquiries were im 
in. Ji was as though Sicily itself, which 
had absorbed so m: 1 conquer- 
had digested the invading duke as 
well. le ace of him. 

On June tenth, a tire went flat. Since 
he had sold the spare, O'Hara. could do 
nore thaw pull over 10 the side of the 
Toad. There he locked the car, pocketed 
с keys and went on by foot, comfort- 


ected his atten 


ors. 


himself with the reflection that he 
soon would have had to do so in any 
event, for his explorations had. carried 
him imo primitive zones, where only ihe 
mules could travel with ease. The road 
had. in fact, become lile more than a 
haphazard assemblage of stones. Farther 
on. it narrowed. to a track, then to 


path, 
vanished 


ad finally to a mere rur before it 
ahogether, leaving the сап 
bemused, footsore and hungry—but not 
without hope of some lunch, for he 
perceived а village some few hundred 
yards ahead, not far from the sea 

He hastened tow: On the out- 
skirts, he encountered a peasant, whose 
redolent respirations vividly answered 
a distance of ten full paces the ques- 
tion O'Hara had been about to ask 


rd it. 


namely, whether there was, in that ham- 
let, a place where food might be ob. 
tained. The carl strode eagerly ahead. 
What the peasant's exhalations had so 
clearly promised т more unmis- 
takably proclaimed with every step. 
From the kitchen of that lowly country 
osteria he was approaching, there wafted 
such fragrant and enticing aromas that 
y panted in the anticipation 
g the foods that produced them. 
He passed through the open doorway, 
g heavily. Inside, he was mo 
у shaken by a terrible thought 
s it possible that he was too late for 
the midday pranzo? 
I, he was not. The proprie- 
countryman, ushered him 
10 a rough table and set before him a 
basket of fresh bread, the mere feel of 
ve him goose flesh. 
Then the pasta course was served. It 
vas, to pearances, an ordinary 
maccheroncini con le sarde. The car 
addressed himself to it hungrily and 
popped the first lorkful into his mouth. 
He chewed, he swallowed—and sat as 
though pole: It wasn’t 


was it merely superb. It w 
Having recove 
first mouthful, he took a second, a third, 
а fourth. Each ingredient, potent in 
itself, had been deftly counterbalanced 
by another, and the whole dish altogeth- 
er was a masterly orchestration of flavors 
that made his palate ring wi 

He ate on in moun 


in his life. Tears of rejoicing rose to his 
eyes He carefully wiped them away, not 
wanting them to fall onto his plate and 
adulterate that marvelous sauce. 

After that, he served a farsuma- 
gru, followed by arancine and a country 
salad so fresh it fairly glowed on his 
plate, and then, for dessert, а cassata of 
such electability that the first taste 
made his head swim, Each course 
seemed beuer than the one before, rais- 


ing the сан to barely tolerable heights 
gustation. Despite his youth, he 
supped at the finest restaurants in the 


1. but never before had he 
stu 
ng luck he'd had! Here in a remote 
corner of Sicily that was untouched by 
the modern world (and, indeed, only 
superficially affected by the medieval 
е had stumbled onto a cookei 
its ancient and unspoiled pu 
was nothing short of divine! 

When he had finished, he sat tranquil 
ly digesting for a while. In but a few 
hours, he reflected, dreamily picking his 
teeth, it would be time for suppe 
And why not? He deserved some 
off, he decided. He really ought to stay 
t and then leave the next day— 
nich! 

It was purely from habit that the earl 


Western w 


WERE ALWAYS ANXIOUS to put 
up the tree in Jack Daniel’s old office. 


When that's done, we know 
the holidays are here. We 
hope your plans are coming 
along too,and that you 
have a Merry Christmas 
and a Happy New Year. 


CHARCOAL 
MELLOWED 


TENNESSEE WHISKEY « 90 PROOF © 1972, Jack Daniel Distillery, Lem Hollow, Prop., Ine 
DISTILLEO ANO BOTTLED BY JACK DANIEL DISTILLERY « LYNCHBURG (POP. 361), TENNESSEE 269 


PLAYBOY 


270 


made his customary inquiry about Mont- 
guise, and he was startled when his host 
returned an affirmative answer. 

“Yes, signore. The French lord was 
with us for several days.” The proprietor 
sighed, his expression clouded by the 
gloom O'Hara had seen on the 
faces of others who had fallen short of 
the duke's di таге. 

"But surely ће ate your dishes!" 

The proprietor sighed again. deeply. 
“We tried everything, siguore. But always 
there was something not to his liki 
A pinch of salt too much, an onion 
100 finely chopped, the brodo served 
a fraction of a degree too cool. 
He winced at the memory of the duke's 
meticulous requirements. 

O'Hara sank back marveling in his 
chair, Had the duke scorned the offer- 
ngs of even this greatest of kitchens? 
Here was ie demonstration of 
amdeur of his taste 

“I tried to persuade him to return to 
France. the proprietor contin- 
ued, "but he was horrified at the very 
thought. He told me that it was impossi 
ble to cat in that country any longer. In 
fact, he confided to me that he had fled 
10 Haly in the hope of obtaining a 
decent 


1 extr 


the 


signore. 


asked the earl, “how long 

was he here? 
“Не departed, signore, a week ago.” 
“In which direction?” 
"Ah, that I cannot say. 
"Perhaps someone else witnessed. his 

departure?” 


es, signe. 


Let me uike you to liii 


The proprietor escorted O'Hara 
through the village to the church, where 
they found the priest. 

“The French lord? Ah, yes,” said the 
priest, and his features, too, bore that 
same ruelul look that was by now famil- 
iar to the earl. “I confessed him shortly 
after he arrived. There was a rather 
unusual problem. 

“A problem?” 

“Well, he took Communion, you sce 
—or, rather, he didn't take it. Не re- 
fused to accept the wafer. He said it 
was overdone.” 

"UP see." 

And whet w him the following 
" the priest went on, “he objected 
most strenuously to the quality of the 
holy oil when I sought to anoint his lips.” 

O'Har: at him. aghast. "You 
an you administered the Last rites?” 
The priest bowed wordlessly and led 


ed 


the shaken earl around the church to 
the cemetery. “You can examine the 
medical certificate, if you like.” he said, 
is they approached the final resting 
place of the great gourmet. “It was most 
extraordinary. The doctor was absolutely 


flabbergasted. 

O'Hara looked at him inquiringly. 

“He died of starvation, you see. 

For а long time. the earl remained а 
the gra ying for Moniguise's 
soul (which probably . hie re 
Ilected. for it might well he argued 1 
the duke w suicide). Then 
glanced surreptitiously at his watch a 
departed at once in the direction of th 
osteria, not wanting 10 be Hate lor supper. 


needed 


he 
ni 


s a 


"Don't feel bad, I missed my period, 100—1 should 


have been around in ancient Rome. 


POWER!/ ROBERT TOWNSEND 


(continued from page 189) 
your troops and asking the two critical 
questions that few leaders ever ask of 
at should we be doing 
es sense? What should we stop 
doing that doesn't make sense? 

When you get through doing that, 
you have a pretty good picture of what 
the people in the organization would like 
it 10 be, and you'll find some enthu 
1 getting them to help you make it that 
ay. Let them know that everyone will 
get what he deserves in proportion to 
how resourceful and ingenious he is in 
helping the organization. But if you're 
sitting in a fancy penthouse suite, sepa- 
rated’ from your people by 
elevators, private dining 
limousines and private 
end up with an organization where the 
only goal is to get inside that magic inner 
cirde where the goodies are distributed 
What sort of an organizational goal is 
that? The Zeppelin pilots who run thi 
country have never realized that the 
elfective use of power requires that it be 
forced down and out, that people be- 
come accustomed to using it. 

But operating this way is а pain in 
the ass. You have 10 give up all those 
goodies, You have to work like hell in a 
l way. You have to learn to listen 
to people who arent powerful, who 

"t "important" In working their 
med cirde, either by 
iosing or by being the least offer 
sive to various power blocs, our n 
leaders lose their appetite for 
fort. They are so much more comfort- 
ble sitting in their suites, having lunch 
with James Reston or Andre Meyer or 
their board of directors, who don't know 
nything about the business bur who do 
know a lot about salmon fishing. golf, 
anis and yachting—fun th 
that. That's merely using your power to 
reward yourself with luxury while de- 
your own eflectiveness, your real 


If you're n 
to r 


or of New York, it’s easy 
tionalize that you are more efficient 
п that limousine; when, in truth, unless 
you expose yourself 10 a subway 
every morning, or à walk, or à bicycle 
ride, you really don't feel the pressures 
of simply getting mound. \ friend. ol 
жаз running for county exccutive 
in Nassau County and D told him that 
опе of the things he should promise to 
do if he won was to drive а Datsun 
pickup truck to work. His opponent had 
a whole fleet of limousines, which was 


ride 


min 


hardly the way to inspire his constituency 
or то find out what it really needed. 
Incidentally, I also told the guy he 
should promise to issue a report every 
100 days on how badly he had. fucked 
up. АШ our leaders stress the good news 
until everyone is so cynical he believes 


nothing. Wouldn't it be delightful to 
have leaders come before you 
their fuckups and ask your help 
solving them? Now, that would generate 
some real power for a guy. He could 
start working for some real ¢ 
stead of merely presiding over the o 
coming wreck, perhaps altering the speed 
little here and there, of this leviathan 
we're all riding. The disastrous course 
its on was set 25 ye „ so until 
people come along who can develop 
gh lovalty and enthusiasm to alter 
that course significantly, our leaders are 
merely riding events into the crash. 
These trappings of power, though 
pull the ambitious out of the woodwork, 
amd olten they're the wrong people to 
lead us. They're not the best people. 
They're just the most aggressive, the 
cst self promoters, not the most in 
telligent nor the most humane. Part of 
the problem is that these sell-aggrandiz- 
ng types have misused, or failed to use. 
power so much that it’s become a dirty 
onld 


eno 


word to the kind of people who u 
exercise their power in behalf of the 
people in the organization or the coun 


iry. Maybe we should coin a new word 
for power so that another type of person 
would seek it. 

Maybe we have to make power unfun. 
As it is, it’s a ball. If you want to escape 
all the hassles of daily life, or of corpo- 
rate drudgery, the way to do it is to get 
a top executive position, So exactly the 
people who should be most sensitive to 
those hassles are the ones who no longer 
need to concern themselves about them. 

I don't know how you make power 
unfun, which would mean that those 
who sought it had motives other than to 
reward themselves, But once I was asked 
10 run the Bedford-Stuyvesint commu- 
ii mization, whose financiers were 
oup that met on Wall Street, 
supposedly to figure out how to spend 
the y in the best way for the 
Bedford-Stuyvesant area. It was a bunch 
of fat cuts. 1 turned. down the job, but 
1 made two suggestions to them: First, 
that the board mectings be held in Bed 
Stuy. I figured that when their limou- 
es got overturned or burned, it would 
be à valuable lesson for them in judgi 
the community's feelings, a lesson. they 
wouldn't learn on Wall Street. It would 
abo lead, Fm sure, to an incredible 
turnover ol chaufleurs. Anyway, 1 also 
suggested that they hire no one, includ- 
the "expert Lawyers and account 
ams they used, unless the person were 
prepared to move his family into Bed- 
Stay, Bed-Stuy had a lot of vacant build- 
ings and needed people to buy or rent 
those homes who would fix them up and 
put pressure on the local supermarkets 
not to overcharge, that sort of thing. 
They didn't accept my su 


me 


estions. 


Another idea might be to immediately 


make it a law that detailed expense 
accounts of the top three officers in cach 
corporation be filed each month with 
the SEC, so the employees and the pub- 
lic would have access to this informa- 
tion. That sounds frivolous, but it 
would be a large step toward making 
corporate power responsive. If the L 

jet Nies to Paris with the chairman's wife 
on board, that would have to be includ- 
ed. Everything, This would be a source 
of hysterically funny information for 
writers, but the ultimate result would be 
to alert people to what's going on up 
there and make it a little harder for the 
fat cats to do all the outrageous things 
they do that not only waste a lot of 
c leaders from their 
knew that when he 
flew the company plane out to Aspen 
for conferences it would be public infor- 
ition, maybe he wouldn't go. Maybe 
he'd stay around the office and find out 
wh 


money but separ 
troops. If the g 


the ought to be di 

Personally, I've done my time in the 
struggle-for-power scene, and I now con 
sider myself one of the hard-core unem 


ployables. But if we had the right man 
in the White House, I'd like to be the 
director of the FBI its helluva 


powerful position. and one that would 


be casy to turn to intelligent use. The 
first thing I'd do is to lobby to take that 
monument of a building that's being 
put up for the FBI and turn it into the 
headquarters of a combined Anti-Trust 
Division and Federal Trade Commission. 
They're the arms of the [ree-enterprise 
system designed to keep corporations 
honest, and the free-enterprise system 
doesn’t work unless you keep it hones 
The fact that the present combined budg 
es of the FTC and the Anti-Trust 
Division of the Justice Department а 
equal to one fifth the advertising budget 
of Procter & Gamble gives you some idea 
of how serious recent Administrations 
have been about seeing that power is ex 
ercised honestly. It would take a building 
about the size of the FBI building to 
house all the lawyers I'd hive to file all 


the suits it would take. 
And then, of course, Id move my 
FBI into some small Quonset hut 


somewhere and begin a series of nation 
ally televised file burnings in front of 
the Washington Monument. See how 
easy it would be to begin using power 


intelligently? 


“Good heavens, child, if your boyfriend 
wants oral sex, give it to him! Most men aren't 


satisfied just talking about it!” 


271 


PLAYBOY 


272 


THE SILVER CROWN 


What is the crown?” he asked, at 
first haughtily, then again gently. "It's a 
crown, nothing che. There are crowns 
in Mishnah, Proverbs. Kabbalah; the 
holy scrolls of the Torah are often pro- 
tected by crowns, But this one is different, 
this you will understand when it does 
the work. Из a miracle. А sample 
doesn’t exist. The crown has to be made 
individual for your father. Then h 
health will be restored. There are two 


“Kindly explain what's supposed 10 
cure the sickness,” Albert said. "Does it 
work like sympathetic magic? Im not 
ysaying, yon understand. T just hap 
pen 10 be interested in all kinds of 
phenomena. Is the crown supposed to 
draw oll the illness like some kind of 
poultice, or w 

"The crown is not a medicine. it is 
the health of your father. We offer the 
Gown to God and God returns to your 
father his health, But first we got to 
make it the way it must be made—this I 
will do with my nt, a retired 
jeweler. He has helped me to make а 
thousand crowns, Believe me, he knows 
silver—the right amount to the ounce, 
according to the size you wish. Then I 
will say the blessings. Without the right 
blessings, exact to cach word. the crown 
don't work. I don’t hase to tell you why. 


assist 


When the crown is finished, your father 
will get better. This I will guarantee 
you. Let me read you some words from 


the mystic book 
he Kabbalah? 
fully 

Like th 


the teacher asked re- 


Kabbalah.” 


The rabbi rose, went to his armchair, 
got slowly down on his hands and knees 
pok he had shoved 


and withdrew the I 
under the misshapen chair, a thick small 
volume with faded purple covers, not 
word imprinted on it. The rabbi kissed 
wed a prayer 


the book and mun 
1 hid it for a minute,” he explained, 
"when you came in the room. 10% 

terrible thing nowadays. goyim come in 
your house in the middle of the day and 
take away that which belongs to you, if 
м your life itself," 

told you right 


away rhat your 
7 Albert said in 


sment 
‘Once you mentioned I knew. 
Theötcacher then asked, “Suppose I 
am a nonbeliever? Will the crown. work 
if i's ordered by а person who ha 
doubts? 
Doubts we all got. We doubt God 
and God doubis из. This is natural on 
account of the nature of existence. OF 
this kind doubts I am not afraid so lo 
аз you love your father.” 
^Yowre soit of putting it in terms of 
paradox 
"Who's afr 
"My father 


of a parado: 
wasnt the easiest man in 


(continued from page 122) 


the world to get along with, and neither 
m I, for that matter, bur he has been 
‘ous to me and I'd like to repay 


g 
him in some w 
“God respects a grateful son. If you 
love your father, this will go in the 
crown and help him to recover his 
health. Do you understand Hebrew?" 

“Unfortunately not.” 

The rabbi flipped a few pages of his 
thick tome, peered at one closely and 
read aloud in Hebrew, which he then 
translated into English. "The 
is the fruit of God's grace. His 
love of creation.” These words I will r 
seven times over the silver crow! 
is the most important blessing: 

"Fine. But what about those 
prices you mentioned a minute ago? 

“This depends how quick you wish 
the cur 

“Iw 


crown 


Iwo 


the cure to be immedi 
otherwise there's no sense to the whole 
deal.” Albert said, controlling anger. "If 
you're questioning my sincerity, I've al- 
ready told you Fm considering this 
course even though it goes against 
в of some of my strongest convic 
tions. Гуе gone ош of my way to make 
my pros and cons absolutely cle 

“Who says no?” 

The teacher became aware of Rifkele 
standing at the door, cating a slice of 
bread with Jumps of butter on it. She 
beheld him in mild stupefacrion 
though seeing him for the first time 

“Shpeter, Rilkele," the rabbi siid ра 
tiently. 

The 


the 


girl shoved the bread into her 


mouth and ran ponderously down the 
passageway. 
y. what about those two 
Albert asked, annoyed by the 


Every time Rifkele ap 
pened, his doubts of the enterprise rose 
before him like warriors with spears. 

“We got two kinds crowns,” said the 

ibbi. “Oue is for 401 and the other 
for 986. 

“Dollars, you m 
that’s fantastic." 

"The crown is pure silver. The dient 
pays in silver dollars. So the silver dol- 
lus we melt—more for the large-size 
crown, less for the medium. 

“What about the small? 

“There is n What good is a 
1 crown? 

“I wouldn't know, but the assumption 
seems to be the bigger the better. Tell 
с, what сап a 986 crown do 
Does the patient get 
ith the larger one? dt 


ап, for God's sakci— 


3 small 


E 


faster w 
tens the reaction 
The rabbi, five fi 
limp beard, assented. 
"Are there any other costs? 
“Costs?” 


ws hidden in his 


“Over and above the quoted prices?” 


s no 


“The price is the price, there 


extra. The price is for the silver and for 
the work and for the blessings.” 

“Now, would you kindly tell me. as 
suming I decide to get involved in this. 
where am I supposed to lay my hands 
on 401 silver dollars in a hurry? Or if I 
should opt for Ше 986 job, where can I 
get a pile of cart wheels of that amount? 
I don't suppose that any bank in the 
whole Bronx would keep that many 
silver dollars on hand nowadays. The 
Bronx is no longer the wild West, Rab- 
bi Lifschitz, Will I have to go to the 
U. S. Mint? Also. that many silver dollars 
must weigh half а ton.” 

“So if you will leave with me the cash 
I will order the silver from a wholesaler, 
and we will save you the nouble 10 go 
10 the bank. It will be the same amount 
of silver. only in small bars. 1 will weigh 
them on a scale in front of your eyes. 

"One other question. Would you take 
my personal check in payment? 1 could 
give it to you right away, once Гуе made 
my final decision 

"I wish I could, Mr. Gans.” said the 
i, his veined hand still nervously 
his beard, “but it’s better cash 
the patient is so sick, so I сап stt 
the work right away. A check sometimes 
comes back. or gets lost in the bank, and 
interferes w 


ith the crowr 
Albert did not ask how, suspecting 
that a bounced check. or a lost one. 


wasn't the problem. No doubt some cus 
tomers for crowns had stopped their 
checks on afterthought. 

As the teacher reflected concerning his 
move—should he, shouldn't Пе 
ng a rational thought against a 
the old rabbi sat in his 
E АЙШЕ quickly in his small mystic 
E his lip hastening along silently. 

Albert at last got up. 

"IIl decide the question once and for 
all tonight. If I go ahead and commit 
myself on the cı ГИ bring you the 
lı alter work tomorrow. 

"Go in good health,” s 
Removing his glasses, he wiped both 
yes with his handkerchiel. 

Wet or dry? thought the teacher 

As he det himself out of the down- 
stairs door, more indined than not to- 
ward trying the crown, he felt relieved, 
almost euphoric. 

But by the next 
difficult night, Albert's 
ed. He fought gloom, irritation, felt 
flashes of hot т. It’s throw- 
ing money away, pure and simple. Im 
dealing with a clever confidence man, 
that’s plain to me, but for some reason | 


next 


ca 


the rabbi. 


morning, alter а 
mood had about 


nd cold 


am not resisting strongly. Maybe my 
subconscious mind is telling me to go 
long with a blowing wind and have the 


Alter that, we'll see what 

пз, snows or 

will happen, I 
my co 


crown. made. 
happens—whether it ra 
spring comes. Not much 
suppose, but whatever does, 
science will be clear. 


But when he visited Rabbi Lifschitz 
that айе 
empty chairs, though the teacher carried 
the required cash in his wallet, he was 
still uncomfortable about p i 

“Where do the crowns go alter they 

are used and the patient recovers his 
ked the rabbi. 
you asked me this ques- 
tion,” said the rabbi alertly, his thick lid 
drooping. “They are melted and the 
silver we give to the poor. A mitzvah for 
one makes a mitzvah for another.” 
To the poor, you say 
here are plenty poor people, Mr. 
ns. Sometimes they need a crown for 
а sick wife or a sick child. Where will 
they get the silver?” 

“I see what you mean—recycled, sort 

of—but can’t a crown be reused as it is? 
I mean, do you permit a period of time 
lo go by before you melt them down? 
Suppose a dying man who recovers gets 
jously ill again at a future date?” 
“For a new sickness you will need a 
new crown. Tomorrow the world is not 
the same as today, though God listens 
with the same car. 

Look, Rabbi Lifschitz,” Albert said 
impatiently, “I'll tell you frankly that I 
am inching toward ordering the crown, 
but it would make my decision a whole 
lot easier all around if you would let me 
have a quick look at one of them—it 
wouldn't ¢ to be for more than five 
seconds—at a crown-in-progress for some 
other client. 


“What will you see in five seconds? 


“Enough—whether the object is be- 
lievable, worth the fuss, and not incon- 
sequential investment.” 

Mr. Gans,” replied the rabbi, “this 
is not a showcase business. You are not 
g from me a new Chevrolet auto 

father lays now dying 
the hospital, Do you love him? Do you 
wish me to make a crown that will cure 


The teacher's anger flared. "Don't be 
stupid, Rabbi, Гуе answered that. Please 
don't sidetrack the real issue. You're 
working on my guilt so ГИ suspend my 
perfectly reasonable doubts of the whole 
freaking business I won't fall for that.” 

They glued at cach other, The rab- 
bis beard quivered. Albert ground his 
teeth. 

Rifkele, in a nearby room, moancd. 

The rabbi, breathing emotionally, after 
à moment relented, 

“I will you 
еа. 

"Accept my apologies for losing my 
temper. 

The г 
please wh 
has got, 
Ah," said Albi nobody is certain 
for sure. One day he got into bed. 
turned to the wall and said, ‘I'm sick.’ 
They suspected leukemia at first, but the 
lab tests didn't confirm it 


show the crown," he 


cepted. "Now tell me 
kind of sickness your father 


“How about establishing your alibi again, Lefty? 


"You talked to the doctors? 

"In droves. Till 1 was blue in the 
lace. A bunch of ignoramuses" said 
the teacher hoarsely. “Anyway, nobody 
knows exactly what he has wrong with 
him. The theories include rare blood 


diseases, also a possible carcinoma of 
certain endocrine glands. You name it, 


I've heard it, with complications suggest- 
cd, like Parkinson's or Addison's dis 
multiple sclerosis, or something similar, 
Jone or in combination with other dis- 
ses. It's a ious case. all in all.” 

I need a special 


crown," bbi. 

The teacher bridled. “What do you 
mean special? Wi ill it cost? 

“The cost will be the ic," the rabbi 
answered dryly, "but the design and 
the kind of blessings will be different. 
When you are dealing with such a 
tery you got to make another one, but it 
must be Бірде 

“How would that work: 

“Like two winds that they meet in the 
sky. A white and a blue. The blue says, 
"Not only I am blue but inside 1 am also 
purple and orange.’ So the white goes 
away. 
“If you can work it up for the same 
price, that's up to you. 

Rabbi Lifschitz then drew down the 
two green window shades and shut the 
door, darkening the room 

“Sit.” he said in the heavy dark, "I 
will show you the crowr 

“I'm sitting.” 

“So sit where you are, but turn 
d to the wall where i is the mirror. 
“But why so d 

“You will sec better the light.” 

He heard the rabbi strike a match and 
it flared momentarily, casting shadows 


+ 


of candles and chairs amid the empty 
chairs in the room. 
the mi 


ror." 


Look with your € 
A silver candelabrum, first with three, 
then five, then seven burning bony can- 
dlesticks, appeared like ghostly hands 
h flaming finger tips i 


the oval mir- 
ror. The heat of it hit Albert in the face 
and for a moment he was stunned. 

But recalling the games of his child- 
hood. he thought, who's kidding whom? 
It's one of those illusion things I remem- 
ber from when I was a kid. In that 
case, I'm getting the hell out of here, 1 
can stand maybe mystery. hut not magic 
eks or dealing with a rabl 


The candelabrum had vanished, al 
though not its light, and he now saw the 
rabbi’s somber face in the glass, his gaze 
addressing him. Albert glanced quickly 
around to sce if anyone was standing by 
his shoulder, but nobody was. Where the 
rabbi was hiding at the moment the 
tea did not know; but in the lit 
glass appeared his old man's lined and 
shrunken face, his sad eyes, compelling, 
inquisitive, weary, per 
ened, 
than they had c 
looking. 

What's this, slides or home movies? 
Albert sought some source of pro 
but saw no ray of light from wall or 
ceiling, nor object or image that might 
be reflected by the mirror. 

The rabbi's eyes glowed like s 
douds. A moon rose in the blue sky 
The teacher dared not move, afraid to 


her 


d to but were still 


273 


PLAYBOY 


was unable to. He then 
ш Gown on the rab 


discover he 
beheld a sl 
head 

Ti had appeared at first like a braided 
mother-oF peal turban, then had lumi- 
nously become—like a star appearing 
our of nowhere in the night sky: 
silver crown, constructed. of ba 
gles, halfmoons and crescens, spires, 
tnrets, wees, points of spears; as though 
had swept them up from the 
th and flung them together in its vor 
tex. twisted i single glowing, int 
locked sculpture, a forest of disparate 
objects. 

The sight in the ghastly minor. a 
crown of rare beauty—very impressive, 
Albert thought—lasted no longer than 
five short seconds, then the 


reflec 


glass, by turned dark and 
empty. 
The shades were up. The single bulb 


a frosted lily fixture on the ceiling 

shone harshly in the room. It was wight, 
The old rabbi sit, exhausted, on the 

broken sofa. 

"So you saw it? 


“I saw something. 

You believe what you saw—the 
own?” 

“I bel v. TU rake it 


The rabbi 
E! 
made, 
thro: 

Which size? 
“Which size was the one T saw: 
“Both sizes. This is the same design 

for both sizes, but there is more silv 


ed at him blankly. 
се то have the crown 
Albert said, ha 


S to clear his 


l nature. of his illness, would have 
erent style, plus some special bless 


spec 
а dilf 
ing 
The rabbi nodded. “This comes 
in two sizes—the S101 and the S986 
The teacher hesitated а split second. 
Make it the big one,” he said decisively. 
He had his wallet in his hand and 
counted out 15 new bills—nine 100s, four 
205, a five and a sin udding to $986. 
Putting on his glasses, the rabbi hast 
ily counted the money, snapping with 
thumb and forefinger each crisp 
make sure none had stuck together. 
folded the stil paper and thr 
into his pants pocket. 
"Could 1 have a receipt 
“I would like to give you а тесе 
said Rabbi Lifschitz earnestly. 
the crowns there are no receipts. Some 
things are not a busines 
“IL money is exchanged. why no 
“God will not allow. Му fathe 
not give receipts and also my g 
Таше 
How сап I prove I js 
goes wrong? 
ou have my word, nothing will go 


also 


did 
nd- 


id you if some. 


274 Wrong." 


"Yes, but suppose something unfo 
L" Albert insisted, “would you 
return the cash 

“Here is your cash," said the rabbi, 
nding the teacher the packet of folded 
bills. 
"Never mind," said Albert hastily. 
‘ould you tell me when the crown will 
he reads? 

» 


ht before Shabbos, the 


“So soo 

“Your father is dying.” 

“That's right, but the crown looks 
a pretty intricate piece of work to put 
together out of all those odd pieces.” 

We will hurry," 

“I wouldn't want you to rush the job 
y that would —let's say—preju- 
potency of the crown or, for 
that matter, in any way impair the q 
ity of it t in the mirvor—or 
however I saw it.” 

Down came the rabbi's eyelid, quickly 
raised without a sign of self-consciousness. 

Mr. Gans, all my owns are frst 
class jobs. About this you got nothing to 
worry about.” 

They then shook hands. Albert, still 
assailed by various doubts, stepped into 
the corridor, He felt he did not, 
esence. trust the rabbi: and suspected 
that Rabbi Lifschitz knew it and did 
rust him, 
ig like a cow for a bull, 
out the front door, perfectly. 

In the Aber figured he 
would call n investment in experi- 
сисе and sce wi £ of it. Education 
costs money, but how else can you get 
it? He pictured the crown as he had seen 
it ensconced on the rabbi's hi 
then seemed to remember (d 
had stared at the man’s shilty face 
mirror, the thickened lid of his right eye 

ad slowly dropped imo a full wink. Did 
he тесай this, in truth, or was he seeing 
in his mind's eye and transposing into 
the past something that had happened 
just before he left the house? What does 
he mean by his wink—not only is he 
а fake but he kids you? Une 


T saw 


sul 


Y once 
more, the teacher clearly remembered, 
when he was staring into the rabbi's 


fisheyes im the glass, alter which they 
had lit in visionary fight. that he had 
fought a hunger to sep: and the ne 
thing, there's the sight of the old boy. 
though on the TV screen. wear 
high-hat magi 


silver crown, 
ve been suckered!” 
outraged by the knavery, hy- 
neve of Lif- 
schitz. The concept of a cmative crown, 
Ї he had ever for a moment believed in 
it, crumbled in his brain and all he 
could think of were 986 1 
flying in the sky. As ducc curious 


pocrisy, 


passengers watched, Albert bolted out of 
the car at the next stop, ıushed up the 
stairs, hurried across the street, then 
cooled his impatient heels for 22 min- 
utes ill the next train clattered into 
the station and he rode back ro the 
stop near the rabbi's house. Though he 
banged with boih fists on the door, 
Kicked at it, "rang" the useless bell until 
his thumb was blistered. the boxlike 
wooden house, including dilapidated 
synagogue store, was dak, monu 
tally starkly still, like a g 
tilted tombstone i 
and in the end u 


head home. 
He awoke next morning 
rabbi and his own stupidity for 1 
got 
is what happens when a man—even for 
a minute—surrenders his true beliefs, 
There are less punishing ways t0 help 
the dying. Albert considered calling the 
cops but had no receipt and did not 
want to appen that much a fool. He was 


ving 
ivolved with а faith healer. This 


tempted. for the first time in six years of 
teaching, то call in sick, then take a cab 
to the rabbi's house and demand the re- 


turn of his cash. The thought agitated 
him. On the other hand. suppose Rabbi 


Lifschitz were seriously at work assem- 
bling the crown with his helper; on 


which, let's say. 


for his 
died: bucks 
ır profit —not so very much: and there 
ally was a silver crown, and the rabbi 
ly and religiously believed it would 
se the couse of his father's illness? 
Although nervously disturbed by his 
suspicions, Albert felt he had better not 
get the police into the act тоо soon, be 
cause the crow sed — didn't 
the old gent say—until before the Sab- 
bath. ave him till sunset tonight. 

If he produces the thing by then, | 
have no све against him, even if it's a 
ссе of junk. So I better wait. But what 
а dope I was to order ıl job 
instead of the 5101. On that decision 
alone I lost S585. 

After a distracted day's work, Albert 
taxied to the rabbi's house and tried to 
rouse him. even hallooing at the blank 
windows facing the street; but cither 
nobody was home or they were both 
hiding, the rabbi under the broken sof 
Rifkele trying t0 shove her bulk under 
the bathtub. Albert decided ш wait 
them out. Soon the old boy would have 
to leave the house to step into the shul 


on Friday night. He would speak to 
him. warn him to come clean. But the 
sun set; dusk settled on the earth; and 


though the autumn stars and а sliver of 


moon gleamed in the sky, the hause was 
dark, shades drawn: and no Rabbi Lif- 


schitz emerged. Lights had gone on in 
the Ше shul. candles were lit. It oc- 
штей to Albert, with chagrin, that the 

(concluded on page 278) 


Further word on a bit of folklore from Railroading's Golden Age: 


MYSTERIES OF THE HOBO'S WIFE. 


The Millionaires Drink a Bum Invented. 


A short time back, we introduced a unique, 
and fetching drink called The Hobo's Wife. _ 
We recalled the legend of J. B. King, Esq., the. 
millionaire hobo who chalked his signature 
on railroad cars from Maine to California. 

The story goes that King was once picked up 
by a yard cop for autographing a private 
car belonging to the president of the 


Commonwealth and Promontory Railroad. u 
King revealed his real пате to the car’s owner, — 
ER] 


and even claimed he owned enough shares 
of that road to “swing control.” Then, King took — 
) a bottle from his bindle and poured the man _ 
a drink. “The best cocktail I ever tasted” was 
how the president later described it. The 
story as told, however, raises a number 
of questions. 
Hobo at Heart? 


5 Supposedly King told the magnate he hated 


m 


the wealth he'd been born to because he'd done == 


nothing to earn it. He said there are few men. 
who decide for themselves who and what they 
want to be, and he was proud to be one. Ж 
But was he really? Maybe. maybe not. We've 
heard plenty of theories about King. That he 
was yardmaster for the Kansas City belt line in 
1900 and-this is funny—that he was an ex-con 
from Sing Sing. Old railroad men say he looked 
like the rest of the 'boes-could walk the top 
of box cars going 50 miles an hour like a cat. 
Had cat eyes too, that could see in the dark. 
But the big mystery remains unsolved. Did 
King actually give up millions for the freedom 
of the road? Or was it all a myth he created 
to fulfill a fantasy? 
More Than One King? 
There's not much tangible evidence except 

for King’s signature. An old brakeman once 
said, “First thing I expect to see when I get to 
heaven is J. B. King, Esq., scrawled across 
them pearly gates.” Thousands of railroad cars 
were inscribed with his autograph. Even used 
to be a poem about it: 

Who is this fellow J. B. King, 

Who writes hisname on everything? 

J. B. King on every wall, 

On flat cars low and box cars tall. 

Whether he does it for money or fun, 

He sure is a scribbling son of a gun. 


The strange thing is the handwriting's 
identical in all the signatures. Which raises 
another question. Could one man have 
accomplished all that? Or is it possible there 
was more than one King? 


pr “A Mystery or a Secret? 

‘Finally, mystery surrounds the drink itself. 
Presumably King told the president of the 
C&P that whenever he got lonesome, he'd hang 
up his hat somewhere, call it home, and then 
drink a Hobo's Wife-a cocktail made to a secret 
formula. The tycoon persuaded King to share 
the formula with him. But what sort of 
persuasion did he use? Blackmail? Was King 
just being friendly? Or had the tycoon 
invented the drink himself and credited King 
with the recipe just to give it a dash 
of romance? 

We can't give you the answer. But we can 
give you the Hobo's Wife. A drink so delicious 
you won't find yourself worrying about 
whether the legend is fact or fancy. 
What is the Hobo's Wife? 

A unique blend of liquors 
with a tang that reminds you 
of apples and an aroma re- 
dolent of spices. Whether you 
like unsolved riddles or not, 
The Hobo's Wife is sure to ВЫ 
whet your curiosity. 


A 


HEUBLEIN W/E 
COCKTAILS 


С 


LN 


HOBOS WIFE COCKTAIL. MADE WITH SMIRNOFF? VOOKA, APPLE BRANOY AND OTHER NATURAL FLAVORS. © 1972 HEUBLEIN, INC., HARTFORD, CONN. ALLEN PAR, NICH. ANU MENLO PARK, CAL. 40 PROOF: 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 


people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement 


PHILEAS FOGG NEVER HAD IT SO GOOD 


It's the answer to a jaded globe-trotter's prayers—an 80-day, $6000 Lost 
Worlds tour, offered by Travcoa, that wings 25 peripatetic types to 

some mighty faraway places with strange-sounding names. Would you 
believe the island of Gozo, near Malta? That's only the second day. From 
there you fly to Leptis Magna, in Libya, and then on to Turkey for a 
Jook at Istanbul, Bursa, Troy, Pergamum and Izmir. Following seven 
more madcap days and nights in Ephesus, Ankara and the hidden 

city of Kaymakli, it’s back to the sky for a flight to Yerevan, Armenia; 

i, Georgia; Baku, the capital of the Azerbaidzhan Republic; and 
Pahlevi, Ramsar and Tehran in Iran. Your 33rd and 34th days will be 
spent in Kuwait, where you'll be bunked at the local Hilton—possibly 
because you'll need plenty of slcep for what's ahead: five more days of 
Iran and four days in Kabul, Afghanistan, followed by those legendary 
cities in the U. S. S. R., Tashkent, Samarkand, Bukhara and Alma-Ata. 
But you ain’t seen nothing yet, for coming up next 
Siberia, and a two-day ride on the Trans-Siberian railway, Ulan 
Bator in Outer Mongolia, a night in the Gobi desert (where Travcoa 
says you'll sleep in a “comfortable Mongolian ушп”) and Karakorum, 
the ancient capital of Genghis Khan. Finally, it's Siberia again 

(Yes! Siberia twice in one trip!), and then—Japan. Golly, Blanche, 

if it’s the 80th day, this must be the Sounkyo Gorgel 


EEE 


Novosibirsk, 


MOONSTONED 


| Lock the doors, all you lovers of a 
| Victorian mystery; on December 10, 
the Public Broadcasting Service's 
“Masterpiece Theater" will air the first 
of five one-hour episodes dramatizing 
Wilkie Collins’ famous whodunit The 
Moonstone. The plot begins to thicken 
when the Moonstone, а cursed 
multicarat diamond (pilfered from a 
Hindu temple, of course), is inherited by 
Rachel Verinder on her 18th birthday. 
"The heroine's subsequent. adventures 
quickly disprove the adage that 
diamonds are a girl's best friend and 
bring to the scene Sergeant Cuff (played 
by John Welsh, Jeft)}—a detective 

who gets as high on roses as Holmes 

did on cocaine. Now, nearby, there's 

a pit of quicksand and late one 
afternoon while out for a stroll. . . . 


SOS TO THE RESCUE 


You say you just lost your credit cards 
and your best girl—because you forgot 
her birthday? Is that what's troubling 
you, bunkie? Well, next time spend ten 
dollars and get the numbers and dates 
registered with SOS Services (Box 
17-2326, West Hartford, Connecticut 
06117). It's their business to notify 
charge accounts pronto when credit-card 
catastrophe strikes and to keep you 
posted on important dates. Relax! 


SHELL GAME 
Item: Shortly alter Verne Hayes invented 
Oystamins—a unique pill 96 percent of 
which is made of the stuff found 
in oysters during the mating scason—he 
got а divorce and married a younger 
woman. Item: During the mating season, 
Mr. Oyster turns out over a billion 
sperm cells. Hem: In Hong Kong, the 
first 10,000 boxes of Oystamins sold out 
faster than powdered rhino horn. Item: 
You can buy a month's supply of 
Oystamins for $12.50 sent to Oystamins, 
109 T Street, Eureka, California 95501. 
Item: No guarantees, of course. 


NEXT! 


"Today's comer barbershops may be in 
trouble, but those funky old chairs 
haven't seen their last customer. 

Alan Forster, who owns the Great 
American Chair Company in Coconut 
Grove, Florida, will refurbish an 
antique model for you in any metal 
finish and fabric you desire, starting 
at $495 plus shipping. Write to him at 


P. О. Box 832. You won't be clipped. 


MONSTER RALLY 
Believers in Bigfoot and the Loch Ness 
monster can now put their money where 
their heads are: Four dollars gets you 
full membership in the North American 
Wildlife Research Association in Eugene, 
Oregon; and five dollars entitles you 
to join the Loch Ness Investigation 
Bureau in Inverness-shire, Scotland, So 
you don't meet the big guys—at least 
you'll get newsletters and some 
mighty freaky pen pals. 


GOLD FINGER 


In a time when tokens of one’s esteem 
are becoming increasingly stereotyped, 
what could be more unusual than 

to give your beloved an 18-kt. gold 
cast of your very own thumbprint to 
remind her that you're truly unique? 
Cartier's, at 653 Fifth Ave. in 
Manhattan, is selling this bauble 

for only $250—plus another $110 for 
a 26-inch 18-kt. gold-bead chain from 
which to hang it. From print to 
pendant, the whole operation 
(accomplished by a special wax process 
that's performed on the premises) takes 
about two weeks. And in case you're 
wondering, the thumbprint cast 
pictured here is that of Cartier's 
president, Michael Н. Thomas— 

a gentleman who, you might say, 
turns everything he touches into gold... 


SAINTS PRESERVE US! 
IT’S NORMAN ROCKWELL! 


Remember a year ago October, 

when we told you about Don 

Celender's baseball cards? The ones with 
the face of some famous artist where the 
likes of Hank Aaron should be? Well, 
now Don has done it again, only this time 
he's canonized a number of contemporaries 
by putting them into traditional religious 
scenes. This new collection. called Holy 
Holy Art Cards, is sold only at the 

О. К. Harris Gallery in Manhattan— 

50 cards for a mere five dollars. “Оп 

each card,” Celender tells us, “is a 
statement by or about the artist and 

his religiosity, followed by the phrase 
‘Season's Greetings.’ " Same to you, fella. 


FOR BUBBLE 
HEADS 


It was during France’s halcyon 
belle époque that the art 
nouveau movement reached its 
greatest heights of meandering 
audaciousness. Aubrey 
Beardsley and Oscar Wilde 
were doing their kinky 

things, and Emile Gallé was 
decorating glassware with 
somnambulistic flowers right 
out of Baudelaire. With 

all this decadence in 

bloom, the champagne firm 

of Perrier-Jouét 

commissioned Gallé to create 
a stained-glass design, 

and now the company is 
reissuing his creation 


PERRIER TOG 


in a rare, hand-painted TID 
bottle that's a fitting container | > 
for its new vintage 1966 Ҹа. 


champagne. The price? About 
$20. Now, that's decadence! 


PLAYBOY 


278 


THE SILVER CROWN 


rabbi might be already worshiping: hı 


might all this time have been in the 
ynagogue. 

The teacher entered the long. brightly 
Jit store. On yellow folding chairs scat- 
tered around the room п men 

ing shawls, holdi prayer 
books. praying. The Rabbi M. Marcus, 


middle-aged man with a high voice and 

short reddish beard, was davening at 
the ark, his back to the congregation 

As Albert entered. and embarrassedly 
searched from face to fice, the. congre- 
gants stared at him. The old rabbi was 
among them. Disappointed. the 
teacher withdrew, 

A man sitting by the door touched his 
!ceve. 


while and read with us.” 

xcusc me, Vd like to, but I'm look- 
for a friend. 
Look." d the m 


, "maybe you'll 


Albert waited across the street under a 
chestnut tree losing its leaves. He waited 
nily—till tomorrow, if he had to. 


in the synagogue and the last of the 
worshipers lelt lor home. The red-hearded 
rabbi then emerged with his key in his 

hand to lock the store doar 
"Excuse me, Rabbi.” said Albe 
proaching. “Are you acquainted with 
Rabbi Jonas Lifschitz, who lives upstairs 
with his daughter Rifkele—if she is his 
daught 
He used 10 
rabbi with a small s 
red. he prefers 2 
Moshula Parkway. 
ill he be 


sud the 
but since he 
ague on 


home soon, 


do you 


ybe in an hour. It's Shabbos. he 
must walk.” 
"Do voi 


—happen to know 
ark on silver crowns 
What kind ol silver crowns: 
“То assist the sick. the dying: 
“No,” said the rabbi, locking the shul 
door, pocketing the key and hurrying 
away. 

The teacher, eating his heart. waiting 
under the chestnut tree till рач mid 
night, all the while urging himself to 
give up and go home, but unable to 
unstick the glue of his frustration and 
rage. Then shortly belore one aat, he 
saw some shadows moving and Iwo peo- 
ple drifting up the shadow-encrusied 
street. One was the old rabbi, in a new 
сапап and snappy black homburg, walk- 
ing tiredly. Rilkele, in sexy yellow m 
exposing to above the bigbone knees 
her legs like poles, walked lightly be 
hind him, stopping to swike her ears 
with her hands. A long white shawl, 
pulled short on the right shoulder, hung 
down to her left shoe. 

“On my income their g 

Rifkele chanted a lo 


g” 


"B0000" and 


(continued from page 274) 


slapped both ears with her pudgy | 
to keep from hearing it. 

They toiled up the ill-lit narrow st 
case, the teacher tailing them. 

I came to see my crown,” he told the 


pale, astonished rabbi, in the front 
room. 
‘The crown," the rabbi haugh- 


tily, “is already finished. Go home and 
wait, your father will soon get better. 

“I called the hospital before leav 
ment, th 


"E 
"s been no improve- 


my apa 
ment. 

How 
provement if 
don't know wh: 
must give the crow 
God Himself has trouble to 
human sickness 
1 came to see the thing I paid for." 

“I showed vou already, vou saw belore 
you ordered.” 

“That was an image of a facsimil 
maybe, or something of the sort. T insist 
on secing the real thing, for which I pai 
close to one thousand smackers.” 

“Listen, Mr. Gans” said the rabbi 
patiently, "there are some things we are 
allowed to sec which He lets us see them. 
Sometimes I wish He didn't let u 
There are other things we are not 
lowed 10 sce Moses knew th 
one is God's face, and another is the 
real crown that He makes and blesses it. 
A this is € 
business.” 

Don't vou see it?” 
“Not with my eyes.” 
"| don't believe a word of it. 


so soon im- 
doctors themselv 
is the sickness? You 
a little more time. 
nderstand 


n you 
the 


expect 


and 


niracle is a miracle. ls 


you 


it is on account 
10 see il 
a. For those 


those people that the 
we try to give them an id 
who believe, there is no m 
“Rifkele," ihe rabbi sa ically, 
bring to Poppa my book of letters." 
She left the room, after a while. a 
Jude in fright, her eyes e and 
returned in ten minutes, after flushing. 
the toilet. shapeless long flannel 
nightgown, carrying а large yellowed 
notebook whose loose pages were thickly 
interleaved with old. correspondence. 


ive. 


"Testimonials," said the rabbi. 
Turning several loose pages, with 
trembling hand he exuacted a lener 


and 
emot 

“Dear Rabbi Lifschitz: Since the n 
vaculous recovery of my mother, Mrs. 
Max Cohen, from her recent serious 
illness, my impuhe is to cover your bare 
Гесс with kisses. Your crown worked 
wonders m recommending it to 
all my friends. Yours truly and sincerely, 

Esther Polatnik." 

is a college teacher 

He read another, "Dear 
schitz: Your 5086 crown 


ad it aloud, his voice husky with 
on. 


Rabbi Lif 
totally and 


completely cured my father of cancer of 
the pancreas, with serious complic 
of the lungs, after nothing 
worked. Never before have 1 believed in 
miraculous occurrences, but [rom now 
on, I will have less doubts. My thanks to 
you and God. Most sincerely, Daniel 
Schwartz. 

“A lawyer." said the rabbi 

He offered the book 10 Albert. “Look 
yourself, Mr. Gans, huncheds of letters 

Albert wouldn't touch it 

"There's only onc thing mt to 
look at, Rabbi Lifschitz, and it isnt a 
book ol useless testimonials. 1 want 10 
sce my father's silver crown.” 

“This is impossible. | 
plained to you why 
God's word is God's Live 

“So if it's the Iaw you're citing, cither 


g I w 


ready ex- 
1 cant do this. 


I sce the crown in the next five minutes 


or the first thin 

reporting you a 

Bronx County district auorney 
"Booo-o00." sang Rifkele, banging her 
s 

"Shut uj 

"Have 


tomorrow mor 


Albert said. 


respect.” @ied Ше ribbi. 


“Grubber yung, 
"E will swear out a complaint and the 
D. А. 


will shut you down. the whole 
plant. if vou don’t at once return 
the S986 vou swindled me out ol. 

The rabbi wavered in his tracks. "ls 
this the way to talk to a rabbi of God: 

A thief is à thiel.” 

Bifkcle blubbercd, squealcel. 
Sha," the rabbi thickly whispered to 
Albert, clasping and unclaspiug hi 
hands. “You'll frighten the neighbors. 
Listen to me, Mr. Gans, you siw wi 
your eyes what it looks like the real 
crown. I give you my word that nobody of 
whole clientele ever saw this before. 1 
showed you for your father's sake so you 
would tell me lo make the crown which 
will save him. Don't spoil now ће 


miracle.” 

“Miracle,” Albert 

aking fake magic, with an idiot girl 
а comcon and hypnotic mirrors. 1 
mesmerized, suckered by you." 
Be kind,” begged the rabbi, tottering 
аз he wandered amid empty chairs. “Be 
merciful to am old man. Think of my 
poor child. Think of your father who 
loves you. 

“He hates me, the son of a bitch, 1 
hope he croaks. 

In an explosion of silence, the girl 
slobbered in fright. 
the wildeyed rabbi, 
pointing a linger to God in heaven. 

“Murderer,” he c hast 


fre 
for 
wa 


ied. à 


N wg, father and daughter rushed 
into eich other's arms, as Albert, wear 
ing a masive spikeladen headache. 


rushed down the booming sı 
An hour later, the elder С 
eyes and expired. 


s 
ns shut his 


The Celica ST may look like 
high rate material. 

But beneath it all sits a prac- 
tical Toyota. 

Very practical. (It even has a 
back seat behind the front seat.) 

Under the hood, the Celica 
ST hos a 1968cc single overhead 
cam engine. With fewer moving 
parts than оп overhead valve en- 
gine. Which means less friction 
and wear. 

The engine has a fluid cou- 
pled fan that freewheels at cruis- 
ing speeds. To save horsepower 


and cut down fan noise. 

Very practical. 

The car rides like it has indi- 
vidual coil springs in the rear 
suspension instead of leaf 
springs. (Because it has.) 

The rear axle is suspended by 
4 links, a track bar and the coil 
springs. A sophisticated suspen- 
sion system if there ever was one. 

The Celica ST has an cerody- 
namic shape. A good shape to 
have on a windy day. 

Very practical. 

Every Celica ST comes with 


radial tires. Plus a wood-grain- 
like steering wheel and dash. 
Gauges instead of warning 
lights. A tach. Reclining bucket 
seats: 4-speed aynchtemesh frans: 
mission. A clock. Nylon carpets. 
Power brakes with front discs. 
Even an AM radio. 

And all we ask for the Celica 
ST is $2848.* 

Very practical, indeed. 


TOYOTA 


See how much cor your money con buy. 


“Mfrs. sugg. retail price, Freight, locol toxos, dealer prep. ond options extra. Prices subject ta change without notice. 
For your nearest Toyota dealer coll, 600-243-6000, roll free. In Connecticut, 1-800-882-6500. 


PLAYBOY 


SEX STARS OF 1970 oia from pace 226) 


Institute to continue his studies, with 
some vague idea of becoming an art di 
rector. To further this interest, he also 
enrolled in the American Academy of 
Dramatic Arts. A year later, he was an 
actor, making his Broadway debut in 
Tall Story. With Neil Simon's Barefoot 
in the Park, he became the theater's most 
soughtafter light comedy leading man. It 
was the movie version of Barefoot in the 
Park, im which he played a squarish 
lawyer momentarily converted to Ja 
Fonda's blithe bohemia, that established 
Redford as a negotiable film personality 
His personal magnetism was reallirmed 
in Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 
which many critics felt Redlord stole 
completely away from his affable part- 
ner, Paul New Next on his agenda: 
The Way We Were, based on Arthur 
Laurent’ semiautobiographical novel 
about the personal toll of black-listin, 
оп a successful Hollywood writer. Barbra 
Streisand will co-star. 

Another actor who, like Redford, in- 
sists on choosing his roles less for their 
box-ollice appeal than for their mean- 

igfulness to himself is Jon Voight. Aft- 

cr rocketing to stardom as the rangy 
‘Texan who expected 10 make it in Man- 
hattan as a prize stud in 1969's Midnight 
Cowboy, Voight had seemingly plum- 
eted right back to oblivion. Now, as 
Burt Reynolds’ tall blond costar in 
Deliverance, he's back in the public е; 
In the first half of the picture, he is 
calm, pipesmoking fellow, totally shad- 
owed by the powerful Reynolds ch 
ter. But when his friend breaks а leg 
coting the rapids, Voight takes over- 
becoming infinitely more interesti 
complex and energetic. 

Voighes time during the past 
years has been principally swallowed up 
by his fight for what he considers the 
integrity of his other current film, The 
All American Boy. Shot in 1970, it was 
written and directed by novelist Charles 
Eastman, whose first cut was almost 
tince and а half hows long; Warner 
Bros. eliminated its ideological points 
and trimmed it to а tidier 90 minutes. 
Voight interceded and—some sty at the 


two 


сом. of making future picture commit- 
ments io W: 


negative hack 
‚who turned in a third ver- 
sion. Whichever print the public sees, 
it’s a good bet that Voight's sipping for 
the boxing ring—ánd for a stea n 
nude bedroom and shower sequence with 
blonde E. J. Peaker—will demonstrate 
а sex appeal not too apparent in his 
previous pictures. 

If sex were not so clearly topic A in 
his fertile br 1 if he hı 
himself in two roguish roles this year, 
Woody Allen would hardly qualify as a 
sex star. But it is, and he did: In Play It 
Again, Sam, he’s a horny divorcee, and 


П not cast 


280 in Everything You Always Wanted to 


Know About Sex (But Were Afraid to 
Askja tile guaranteed to overtax 
every marquee in the country except 
that at Radio City Music Hall, where it 
will never play—he portrays a ubiqui- 
tous inquiring reporter. Allen has be- 
hind him a solid record of successes in 
films, theater, recordings, night clubs, 
books and magazines. In all of them, the 
character he plays is identical—the 
frustrated inmate of a body 
that is inadequate to the superb erotic 

рз of his mind. Allen's the an- 
tithesis of the tough-guy image of East 
wood and Bronson—the cerebral as 
opposed to the purcly physical. But his 
special appe that he makes it all 
hilariously funny. 

The fact that you don't have to be a 
pretty boy to be a sex star was first 
demonstrated in the ‘Thirties, when actors 
like Humphrey Bogart, James Cagney, 
Spencer Tracy and even Victor McLaglen 
emerged as superstars despite their obvi- 
ous lack of pulchritude. They were es 
sentially character actors, but since the 
characters they played were generally 
more dynamic, more complex and more 
human than those essayed by such collar- 
ad types as Robert Taylor or Tyrone 
Power, their following was prodigious. In 
recent years, the notso-handsome-hero 
©нерогу has been inhabited n 
Lee Marvin and James Coburn 
Bronson, Cene Hackm 
Scott (and, on television, Peter 
well) are climbing aboard. Ci y 
Bronson's detective in Rider on the Rain 
was strikingly reminiscent of Boge 
trench coat, slouch hat aud all. Similarly, 
the characters so vigorously portrayed by 
Scott—the doctor who fears he might 
be impotent in The Hospital and the 
tough cop who can't face retirement in 
The New Centurions—are voles that 
might casily have [allen to Cagney or 
Tracy during the Thirties, 

For Scott, the film that transformed 
him from character actor imo ма 
Patton—a unique achievement. 
well-publicized refusal. of 


His 
an Oscar for 
Patton, his equally well-publicized on- 


off-again marriage to actress Col- 
en Dewhunst and his even more widely 
publicized fourth wedding, to Trish Van 
Devere, with whom he'd been playing 
house ever since they appeared together 
in The Last Run—all served to 
transform a cruggy-faced middle-aged а 
tor imo one of the most intriguing top 
stars of the d 

The same twist of fatc—onc big role 
—served to propel Hackman into the 


upper echelons of stardom, althoug! 
with far fewer previous credis. than 
Scott. His work in Bonnie and Clyde 


nd I Never Sang for My Father estab- 
lished Hackman as an actor of consid- 
erable range and ability (he received 
Academy nominations for both), but 


neither performance prepared audiences 
for his explosive "Popeye" Doyle in The 
French Connection, which did carn him 
the Oscar. As the edgy, implacable detec- 
tive, he brought back to the screen a 
kind of larger-than-life energy and in- 
tensity not seen since the palmicst da 
of Jimmy Cagney. By the time this ap- 


pears, he should also be le as а 
tough, determined priest in The Posei- 
don Adventure, which details the last 
hours of a doomed ocean liner. Of 
the younger generation, James Caan, the 


quick-tempered, muscular Sonny of The 
Godfather, and Malcolm McDowell, 
the mainspring of Stanley Kubrick's A 
Clockwor ive both managed 
to establish т quality with a 
single film, despite the fact that each 
had appeared in а good many pictures 
and television shows before the right 
role came along. 

Among the several who made it bi 
last only that ebullient Adonis 
naged to retain his st 
tus—and that primarily because director 
Peter Bogdanovich had the insight to 
remove him from the lachrymose lan- 
guors of Love Story and recast his image 
in the shape of that able farceur of yore, 
Cary Gran, What's Up, Doc? was a 
frank, freewheel Japtation of those 
screwball comedies of the Thirtics (with 
а special nod toward Howard Hawks's 
memorable Bringing 
while no one was ready to claim that the 
youdiful O'Neal had assumed the man- 
Че of the old master, the change of pace 
(especially coming alter the calamitous 
Wild Rovers) did his carcer a world of 
good. It was а popular film; and if most 
of its patrons had come to worship at 
the Streisand shi зу of them re- 
mained to pr al. A volatile, 
hedonistic young man who talks volubly 
of b; and get 
pensive cars and likes to Keep in condi 
tion for athletic movie stunts, O'Neal is 
а bundle of contradictions. But not an 


Up Baby) 


untalented bundle. Before the ycar is 
over, he will have had another chance to 
prove his comedic gifts in The Thief 


Who Came to Dinner, followed by 
Hawkscum-Bogdanovich Western, Paper 
Moon. 

“А year ago," begins the studio bio on 
Richard Rounduce, with more than 
usual candor, “few people outside Rich- 
ard Roundtree's family knew he exis 
ed.” The reason was simple. Whenever a 
black actor was needed for a major role 
in а picture, the call automatically went 
out for Sidney Poitier, Rounduee him- 
а former linebacker for Southern 

on model for black mai 
New York's Negro 

nsemble Company—had never made a 
movie before he tried out for MGM's 
Shaft. Nevertheless, he was selected from. 
more than 200 men who turned up for 
the auditions, and the film immediately 
established him as one of the most 


g sacred?" 


"Is nothin 


new faces of 1971. 
2 it was a matter of being in the 
right place at the right time. Somehow, 
the black audience—which surely had 
been there all along began to assert 
itself. А year carlier, black director Gor- 
don Parks had mised the mark with his 
sensitive—perhaps too seusitive—The 
Learning Tree. In Shaft, he gave that 
same audience a hard-hitting. no-holds- 


PLAYBOY 


ch; 
took, 


cher, 
no cr 


a private eye (Round: 
p fiom anybody, black or 
lly white. And the black 
round the country ate it up. 

1 Shufí's Big Score, Round- 
resoundingly reafhrmed his 
with Embassy and Charlie 
уе vet to come. 

Big Jim Brown, back 
the mumber-two Negro star (a 
tier), had been vi 
ing the black-mov 
two 


This year, 
tree has 


a the Sixties: 
ter Poi- 
ble dur- 
n of the past 
he says, he was 
the leiter th 
was circulated among the producers in 
Hollywood, telling them why 1 ought to 
be kept out of pi Brown told 
Il Hall of 
mers ollscreen. brawls and woman 
had won him headlines, but lost him 
and he was forced to go to 
ide financing and 
American Imer- 


сайм c 
shoot Slaughter belore 
national could be convinced to market 
L Slaughter, in which Brown cos 
with P mate Stella Stevens, м 
lowed by Black Gunn, р: 
gridiron hero with 
Sykes. Both filmy are doing well. and it 
looks as if Brown's long dry spell at the 
box ofhce is 

There are some actors—but not m 
—who don't have to make а film for 
ire year ог more to retain thei 


piled. 


ny 


em 


mence. Waren Beaty, for example, 
prided himself when he was working on 
Bonnie and Clyde as being “the only 


ble sar in the bus ss who 
Five years later, Beatty is 


really bani 
is under 30.” 


considerably over 30; but his presence 
a film—as in Richard Brooks's 5—makes 
it " So docs Dustin Holl. 

u's, monsuated when he played 


the innospective mathematical genius of 
Sam Perki ly successtul Straw 
Dogs. A question arises, though. When 
the crowds show up, as they deln 
did for Little Big Man and Straw D 
is it for Hollman or the vehicle? 
And where were they when he needed 
them for Who Is Harry Kellerman, ete? 
ns problematical 
the case of Shaw Dogs, but perhaps 
answer will be reached with the forth- 
coming Until Divorce Separates Us. 
The was time when the name 
Marlon Brando was a fiscal guarantee 
far more potent than that of either 
or Hollman. But the үче 
ggg Brando's carcer seemed inexplicably on 


tely 


for 


the dedine right through the Sixt 
Mutiny on the Bounty lost MGM a 
fortune; Bedtime Story occupied the se 
ond half of double bills from the mo- 
ment of its release; Morituri was such a 
disaster that tury Fox promptly 


on 


k it to any picture 
might have read about. Some cities 
admired his work in Reflections in a 
Golden Eye and The Nightcomers, but 
audiences stayed away in droves. To win 
the title role in The Godjaih 

did what, for a major star, was 


able. He went into th 
Don Vito Corleone and submiucd to a 
screen test so. tbat Paramount's execu 


ves might be convinced he was 
for the role. He was right (to the tunc of 
more than 51,000,000 in his percenta 
of the picture), and so were th 

do's presence lent the film a stature and 
ty that wuld not have come from 


у Poitier's remarkable 
te hit Brando's heights, 
neither did it sink to Brando's depths. 
. lor every Lilies of the Field, To 
Love and In the Heat of the 
ight, there was a Bedford Incident, a 
Duel at Diablo and a Brother John- 
Like a dy perennial, Poitier need- 


ed g ol successes 10 resuscitate 
his willing reputation. This 

been a f. ood one for him 
Organization. coming carly, сам him as 


а Clever, compassio 
save the members ol 
framed. by the San Francisco. Syndicat 
Buck and the Preacher, in which he 
co-starred with Harry Belafome. present- 
cd Poitier as a former Union cavaly- 
dedicated to leading ex-slaves to 
freedom just after the Civil War. Poitier 
ako assumed the directorial reins on 
Buck alter he and his director had "ar- 
tisic differences" on its progress. Tis 

the bos ойсе has been ex 


е cop Working to 
youth gang hei 


progress 
nenny satisfactor 
bia executives, Sill 10 come before 
year is out is A Warm Dec 
who makes no secret of I 


тс 


his was also the year that brought to 
the United States one of the h 
perennials—and. also one of the shrink- 


ingest violets—ol them all, Jean-Louis 
Trinti nt. A veteran of more than 50 


picunes since starting in films in 1952— 
including such international successes as 
And God Created Woman, A Man and a 
Woman, The Conjormist, Z and My 
Night al Maud'i ant has gained 
a reputation as a kind of “little man who 
wasn't there.” So completely docs he 
submerge himself in whatever role he's 
playing that only terribly alert movic- 
goers are apt to make the connection 
between, the romantic racecar 
driver of A Man and a Woman and the 


say, 


withdrawn, introverted intellect 
My Night at Maud's. Shortly before 
riving here to co-star with Ann-Margret 
nd Angie Dickinson in The Outside 
Man, the self-effacing Trintignant com- 
pleted The Assassination in France. Both 
should be appearing soon—and. as usual, 
Trintignant will probably build a new 
following who realize that the face is 
familiar, though they 1 quite 
from where. 
But the scr 
ble need for readily identifi 
ice most plots, even in this 
supposedly sophisticated cine 
fall imo rather obvious раце 
faces that fit the formulas. rem: 
enviable demand. A producer with 
Western on his hands doesn't xay, 
me a John Wayne type.” He says, 
me John Wayne’—even though 


¢ ol the 
‚ tend to 
the 


Duke 
is now well into his 605. Missing out on 


Wayne. he may seule for Gregory Peck 
or Henry Fond wld he need a 
younger version, the first candidate to- 
day is Steve McQueen, with James G: 
n acceptable alternate. And lor 
al or historical spectaculars. Charl- 
ton Heston and Kirk Douglas are still 
eminently available. AI of these actors 
have sought—and often. successtully—to 
s from time to time: but the 


son for their impres- 
y is the fact that, when the 
s slip back 


comfortably into Hollywood's most pop- 
ndardized genres, 

‘There are a good many actors—iop 
stars who seemed virtually unquencha- 
ble а year or so ago—who are slipping 
y simply because they never found a 
comfortable niche. The hirsute El- 
lion Gould, for example. scored heavily 
when campus radicals seemed to domi- 
nate the The vogue for such 
films proved shortlived, however, and 
matters weren't improved for him when 
reports began to circulate about his tem- 
per tantrums while making A Glimpse 
of Tiger, resulting in the shutting down 
of уса, Gould 
role as the loutish 
gist who temporarily 


ам 


sere 


on. Last 


ste Anderson from her some- 
what stock nd, Мах von Sydow, in 
s The Touch. Sill to 


Clifford Inving’s great and u 
Шап. and reuni 


with Robert Alman, the di 
M*A*S*H. It may be his Last ¢ 
. because their c 
long а narrow and very special 
k, Peter Fonda 
land—bodh hot p 
'o—also seem to be slipping 
cach has a new picture (for 
Two People, with Lindsay V 
for Sutherland, The Master, with 
Jennifer O'Neill) due before the y 
out, Sutherland has already appca 


areers were rout 


operties only two 


te than the leading Scotch 
to coast, 7 Crown is Ame orite 


Thank you, America, for making our whiskey your whiskey. 


Arizona Cookout 


Golden Gate Bridge 


‘SEAGRAM DISTILLERS CO., KY,C. BLEWOED WISKY. 
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PLAYBOY 


“You've no objection to Joey joining in 
the fun, I hope? 


1972 in a picture called F. T. 4.— known 
alternately as Free the Army and Fuck 
the Army—a documentary based on the 


traveling antiwar show that he and Jane 
Fonda carried to base camps here and in 
the Pacific back in 1971. Revealing him 


wild-eyed, bearded, shaggy-haired, mes- 
sianic and opinionated, the film did little 
to advance Sutherland's cause, even less 
10 advance his career. In fact, within a 
few weeks of its midsummer release, 
American International prudently with- 
drew it from circulation, declaring 
vaguely that it had “other plans for it” 


later in the year. Dennis Hopper, who is 
Peter Fonda's and Sutherland's dose 
friend and fellow freewheeler, has 


dropped out of sight since his disastrous 
The Last Movie—a title that, for him, 
might prove all too apt. 

There is a particularly fine line be- 
tween those actors who are holding th 
own and those who have begun to s 
пе that can often be moved one 
way or the other by a single perform- 
ance in a single film. Last year, for 
mple, Jack Nicholson was unequivo- 
Пу hailed as the top-ranking male star 
in Carnal Knowledge. 
But Drive, He Said, which he directed, 
per 
office; and A Safe Place, in which he 
co-starred with Tuesday Weld and Or- 
son Welles, did even worse. This year, 
holson’s hopes are pinned on The 
King of Marvin Gardens, another wild, 


—a lii 


rmed disappointingly at the box 


294 cxcitingly original film from Bob Rafel- 


son, the director of Five Easy Pieces. But 
meanwhile, is Nicholson holding or slid- 
ing? Only your box office 

What the box office is saying right 
now about people like Richard Burton, 
James Coburn and Paul Newn 
he more than discouraging for these 
stilliHustrious names. These three s 
earned their astronomical salaries 
cause their very presence on the mar- 
quee was supposed to be lure cnough for 
the millions. Not anymore. Richard Bur- 
ton—even Ihe Burtons—wasn't enough 
to save Hammersmith Is Ош. Advance re- 
ports from abroad on The Assassination 
of Leon Trotsky have been equally un- 
prepossessing. Bluebeard, teaming Bur- 
ton with such international beauties as 
Raquel Welch, Nathalie Delon and Vir- 
na Lisi, was essentially a cheap exploit: 
tion picture—and looked it, Early in 
August, shortly before he sustained a 
serious injury while shooting a picture 
in Yugoslavia, Burton announced that 
he was retiring from the screen to de- 
vote himself to teaching and the theater. 
Pethaps he had already glimpsed some 
handwriting on a wall 

Burton's story is hardly unique; it’s 
just that he h 1 a longer string of 
unpopular pictures than most. Unless 
The Life and Times of Judge Roy Bean 
bails him out, Paul Newman—astound- 
ingly—is in deep trouble. Neither $оте- 
times a Great Notion nor Pocket Money 
set any wickets awhirling. Lee Marvi 
s in the same position after co-starring 
with Newman in Pocket Money and 


be- 


with Gene Hackman in Prime Cut 
Hackman can afford a failure at this 
ройи, but N can't. Michael Caine, 
alter Kidnapped and X, Y & Zee, is at 
best marking time, although he has an 
exceptionally strong role in the upcom- 
ing Sfeuih, based on the hit play. Sean 
Connery. fresh from his triumphant re- 
turn to Bondage in Diamonds Ave For- 
ever, has once more announced that he 
has no intention ever of playing 007 

in. (Roger Moore has already been 
lected as his replacement.) But when 
Connery gave up on lan Fleming's 
suave spy once belore, his vast following 
promptly gave up on him. И became a 
matter of Bond or bust—and this may 
well happen again 

And yet. And yet. Happily, every y 
tums up a fresh supply of—well, пос 
exactly new faces, but young people 
who, having served their apprentice- 
ships scem ready to rockct. Some will 
sizzle, some will fizzle, but at least they 
have made it to the launching. р: 
Hottest at the moment is the versatile 
Stacy Keach, visible this year 
prominent and contrasting, role: 
worn-out, overthehill pugilist in John 
Huston’s Fat City and as the dedicated 
rookie cop in The N 
more than holding his own opposite 
George C. Scott. A fairly recent recruit 
from the New York stage, Keach made 
his first screen appearance in 1968 as a 
drunken waylarer in The Heart Is a 
Lonely Hunter, But audience accept- 
ance came a bit more slowly. Although 
Keach is six feet tall, lean and muscu! 
as Fat City amply reveals), he also I 
а harelip, an allliction shared by no top 
stars. It may have helped his characteri- 
zation in Fat City, in which he played a 
battle-scarred boxer; but, more impor- 
tant, it proved no hindrance whatsoever 
п The New Centurions, based on Se 


geant Joseph Wambaugh’s bestselling 
slice-otlife novel as witnessed by the Los 


Angeles Police Department. In it, he 


uncorked the kind of dynamism il 
spells true stardom. 

This year has also been good to Beau 
and Jal Bridges, the handsome, talented 
sons of the veteran Lloyd Bridges. Beau 
was particularly effective as the greedy, 
moral hospital attendant who played a 
modern Faust to Richard Burton's 
Mephistopheles in Hammersmith Is Out 
—not to mention his several steamy 
cenes with the zaftig Mrs, Burton as his 
mpassioned Marguerite. Still to come 
from the blond, husky Beau (who first 
mpressed as the youthful, incredibly 
cub reporter in Сай), Gaily) are 
Child's Play and Your Three Minutes 
Are Up. Jeff, Beau's younger brother, 
alter à couple of fairly obscure 
starts, suddenly hit it big year 
the pugnacious young Texan who im- 
ely joins the Marines in Peter 
ovidvs The Last Picture Show. 
This year, he more than reaffirmed that 


at 


Today a man needs a good reason to walk a mile. 


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Em M 
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Please send me — —— pair(s) of Dingo Boots. 1 enclose 1 
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PLAYBOY 


286 


good impresion as the heavyweight 
hopeful befriended by Stacy Keach in 
Fat City. Jel seemed to sum up the 
attitude of both members of the second 
neration of Bridges toward the indus 


try when he stated, “Nobody's going 10 
make it in front of a camera just be- 


cause of who he's related 10.” For his 
role as the Fat City fighter. Jeff spent six 
weeks before shooting begin boxing 
with veteran trainer Al Silvani. Timothy 
Bottoms, his somewhat ingenuous buddy 
in The Last Picture Show, scoved again 
in Johnny Got His Gun—ven though 
he played much of the film swathed in 
bandages on a hospital cot. But Bogdano- 
vich has publicly berated Bottoms sev- 
eral times for lack of discipline as an 
actor, so the cue to Timothy's future 
career may well lie in The Romanties, 
in which he plays opposite the cool. pre- 
cise Maggie Smith. A casting opposite 
the delectably kookie Goldie Hawn in 
Butterflies Ave Free, now on the cinema 
circuit around the country, bodes well 
for another newcomer, Edward Albert. 
Perhaps the most promising of the 
offbeat young actors edging toward star- 
dom is the versatile Ron Leibman, who 
came to the screen only two years ago as 
George Segal's staid, beleaguered older 
brother in Where's Poppa? Before diat, 
driving а taxi in Manhattan to support 
himself, Leibman worked in summer 
ad college repertory ший his 
in the off-Broadway trio of 
s Transfers, won him both 
nd acclaim. He moved on to 
Broadway with We Bombed in New 
Haven ther prophctically titled 
play written by Gutch-22°s Joseph Hel- 
ler) and a manic revival of Room Sero- 
ice. When Hollywood claimed him, it 
was for the role of Paul Lazzaro, Billy 
Pilg i 
Slaughterhouse Playing off of B 
ly’s passivity, Leibman's fanatic, с 
trated hating marked him as a comer. 
istered strongly again soon ай 
as one of the inept jewel thieves in Hot 
despite con from such 
seasoned—and for 
Redford. Segal and 7 
Inevitably, the studios discovery of 
vast black audience has prompted 
search for new black stars, aciors young- 
er than. Poiti nd more versatile than 
Richard Roundtree or the rugged Jim 
Brown. Most promising at the moment 
are Christopher St. John, Ron O'Neal 
and Yaphet Kotto, cach of them brin, 
ing to the sereen not only an impressive 
theatrical background but his own spe- 
cial black charisma. St. John scored last 
as the m in Shaft who 
ed forces with Rounduce to foil a 
aping: this year, he took top billing 
in Top о] the Heap. Even hotter is Re 
O'Neal, the winner of all sorts of the: 
ter rds for his work in the 1971 


m's cosmi 


псе 


aw; 


Pulitzer Prize play No Place to Be Some- 
body. After only two previous support- 
ng roles (with Elliot Gould in Move 
and with Sidney Poitier in The Organ 
zation), O Neal's name went above the 
tle in Warner Bros” Super Fly. a movie 
that buzzed close to the top of the 
weekly box-office charts, Коцо, who took 
over the James Earl Jones vole in The 
Great White Hope on Broadway, moved 
up this year as Јо Van Fleet's burly but 
tenderhearted rapist in Bone. 

Among the year's imports. perhaps the 
most exciting debut was made by Б 
and's debonair Jon Finch, first in the 
ide role of Roman Polanski's 
Playboy's) bold adaptation of 
speare's Macbeth, then as the ha 
down-on-hisluck. ex-R. А.Е, officer I 
ney in Alfred Hitehcock's enormously 
successful Frenzy. Another Britisher, M 
chael York, had been called promising 
1 the time of his screen debut as Tybalt 
» Franco Zeffirclli's production of Ro- 
тео and Juliet. As Liza Minnelli's ho- 
mosevual boyfriend in Cabaret. he 
remains—promising. Of the Continen- 
Delon, a star in hîs own 
nce and Italy, seemed to be 
moving up on the American 
thanks primarily to his co-starring role 
(with Charles Bronson and Toshiro Mi- 
Tune) in the paella Western Red Sun. 

This was a year for the men to re 

nd the women to weep—at least those 


scene, 


women who took their carcers all 
seriously. Of fol new faces 
presented to the American public in 
1972, just one—that of blonde, cool- 


eyed, smoldering Dominique Sanda 
seemed to radiate that ineffable 
that marks the superstar. Only 21 
Sanda has already appeared. to ever- 
increasing advantage, in no fewer than 
seven movies. A model at 15. she was 
discovered on the pages of Vogue by 
the austere French director Robert Bres 
son, who promptly cast her in his adap- 
n of sky's Une Femme 
Douce—an nce that she later 
admitted she didn't altogether cherish. 
in the Breson film." she told an 
interviewer in Paris. “I had to be an 
object—just a bare outline, without col- 
or and shadow." The colors began to 


aura 
Mile. 


like 
Maximili 


а porcelai Russian noble- 
a opposite 1 Schell in 
his own adaptation of Turgenev’s First 
Love. 
wer 


Last year, both colors and shadows 
impressively evident in her pornait 


of the slightly tainted wile of an exil 
niFasiw in The Conformist, 
even more noticeable in her portrayal of 


the patric 


young Jewess in Vittorio 
The Garden of the Finzi 
This year, she has already 
seen in a superior suspense film, 
Without Apparent Motive: and with 
ny kind of luck, John Frankenheime 
Impossible Object, suring Mlle. Sanda, 


should also be on view here before the 
year is over, 

A serious actress, Sanda has been re- 
peatedly likened to Garbo. “I think 
that’s because of the shape of my face 
1 the face that my eyebrows are rather 
low,” is Dominique's explanation; but, 
physical resemblances apart, she also 
projects a hauntingly Garboesque vision 
of a vulnerable yet strong-willed woman 
who knows what she wants and is will- 
ing to pay the price for it. Nor is this 
o far hom her own way of lile. Born 

Paris, she left home it 15, married 


briefly and entered films at 17. After her 


first successes, she те Cd off the screen 
Tor almost two years, taking up residence 
with French director Christian Mar- 
quand, Last May she presented him with 
а boy, Yanne, out ol wedlock (а circum- 
ice, incidentally, that cost her an 
iviable role in Bernardo Bertolucci's 
forthcoming Last Tango in Paris, with 
Marlon Brando; she was preguant when 
ting began). Frankenheimer calls 
Sanda “the most exciting young 
tress Гуе ss in years," and Ame 
publications have begun 10 devote con 
siderable space to “la magnifique Domi- 
nique” (as per vraynoy's feature in 
March 1972). 
The nearest thir 


i Hollywood has to a 
new star of equivalent magnitude is the 
mercurial, golden-haired Karen Black, 
whose steady rise over the past few years 
was crowned with what must have 
seemed, at least at the time of сач the 
plum role of the Monkey in Ernest Le 
mans production of Porimoys Com- 
plaint. As the sexy and knowledgeable 
fashion model. most of whose brains are 
between her hips the curvaceous Miss 
Black wrung considerable pathos from 
the part. But the Monkey wasn't actually 
thar diflerent from her Raycue in Five 
Easy Pieces. her adulterous wile in Drive, 
He Said or her aciddropping prostitute 
in Easy Rider. One can't help remark: 
that in the old days. if a studio had a 
property as original and exciting as 
Karen, it would have developed I 
carefully and cast her i 
role. Mis Black really 
this diversity. With her classic profile 
(startlingly reminiscent of Dolores Cos 
tello, a great star of silent days), she 
could easily play in romantic costume 
pieces. There is also more than a sug 
gestion of the kind of soignée kookiness 
that was Carole Lombard's main stock in 
wade. 

One ol Karen’s closest competitors is 
tall, leggy Sally Kellerman, who zoomed 
to fame with ше bi 
M*A*S*H, reprised this year as Robert 
Sha i à Labyrinth, a myste 
film, amd as the first of Alan Arkin’s 
disappointing inamoratas in The Last of 
the Red Hot Lovers, їп which 
showed that the comedic Mair revealed 
in the Hot Lips Houlihan character was 


diver 


her ten 


she 


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288 


no mere fluke. And her deep. throaty 
voice was surely not irrelevant to her 
selection for а lead role in Ross Hunt- 
a's forthcoming musical adaptation of 
Lost Horizon. But while Hot Lips re- 
ns torrid, her career seems to have 


fallen into a rut. Furthermore, she has 
the distinct. disadvantage of not having 
gotten it under way in the first place 


umil she was past 30. 

No such disadvantage is suffered by 
the fresh-faced and willowy Jennifer 
ONeill, a top fashion model since the 
age of 15. After a few roles that required 


little more than her presence. she sud- 
denly acquired stature as the young 
widow who sought a single night’s solace 


as promptly, she reverted to s 
player sanus in Otto Р 
feeble and tasteless Such Good Friends. 
Glass Houses. shot two years ago and 
released in 1972, revealed Miss O'Neill 
as а morethan-capable actress—with a 
morethan-agreeable body to go with i 
but her roles in The Carey Treatment 
and The Master merely indicated that. 
she was still around. 

The yomhful, British Susan George 
scored heavily as Dustin Hoflman’s self- 
consciously sexy wile in Straw Dogs and 
is currently high оп the studios’ "most 
wanted imilarly, Cybill Shep- 
heid's slim. blonde good looks in The 
Last Picture Show were enough to w 
her a prized role in The Heartbreak Kid 
(Hot to mention the flaucring atcutions 


lists. 


of Peter Bogdanovich, her Picture Show 
director). Cybill is hot at the mo 
—but is there enough heat 10 keep hi 


nt 


going up? Barbara Hershey remains 
very much in demand, and rLaynoy’s 
Boxcar Bertha layout ol August 1972 
reveals а couple of good reasons why. 
The bouncy Barbara h; 
the old-fashioned 


5, howe 


r, nev- 
€r become a star in 
sense of the word, 


There are, in fact, astonis 


hingly few 


female stus of the first magnitude in 
any sense ob the word, Ann-Margret 
keeps ing in there by sheer dint, 


her career expertly manipulated for hec 
by her husbandamanager, Roger Smith. 
This year, between her electrifying 


nightclub appearances and her TV spe- 
dals, she managed to film The Train 
Robbers with John Wayne, and The 
Outside Man. with Jean-Louis Trin- 
tignant (making his American debut). 
These, plus another, Lenny, should be 
released in 1973—by which time, we 
hope. Ann-Margret will be fully re- 
covered. Irom the injuries she sustained 
in a backstige fall at Lake Tahoe this 
September. Jane Fonda, who virtually 
dominated the lists last year with her 
Academy Aw ning performance 
in Kile. is major contender; 
Steclyard Blues, with Donald Sutherland, 
is now onscreen, with Tout Va Bien 
Whose Heaven--Whose Earth 


-y 


sull а 


release at the moment of writing. On the 
d, the film version of her 
show was virtually stillborn 
a broadcast over Radio Напо 
bitterly attacked by Administration sup- 
porters as traitorous, was hardly calcu 
laed to win her friends or influence 
people in some circles Stateside. Lira 
Minnelli, swiving hard to walk in he 
mother's hallowed footsteps, came re- 
markably dose in Cabaret. 

The need for something resembling a 
big name persists; every studio seeks an 
established female who sufficiently 
well known to carry her own weight on 
the marquees when paired м 
star of equal w . Many of them, 
like Jill St. John, Elke Sommer, Stella 
Stevens, Ursula Andress and 
Cardinale, have long since established 
themselves as very sexy girls, with very 
sexy bodies that they are mot at all 
averse to revealing for the " 
Their very appe: in a picture 
seems to promise ating: and pro- 
ducers who have that kind of show in 
mind unhesitatingly seek them out. If 
perchance they need someone who can 
act as well. chances are they will call 
upon the talented and sexy Augie Dick- 
inson, Since Angie is also Mrs. Burt 
Bacharach, however, she can айога to 
and choose among the scripts of- 
fered to her—such as the upcoming The 
Outside Man, in which she completes 


came 


the triangle initiated by Jean-Louis 
Trimtignane aml AuırMa cu Sheer 


persistence would seem to account for 
the staying power of such foreign bean- 
ties as Brigitte Bardot, Gina Lollobr 
gida, Sophia Loren and perhaps Virna 
i (who most recently lost her head 10 
Richard Burton's Bluebeard). But a sex 
symbol who seeks to project the sume 
sexual image lor a decade and more 
sooner or later tends 10 become a traves- 
ty of herself, like a miniature Mac West. 
Because the ideal sexual image is in a 
constant state of lux—and, let's face it, 
because a lot of these sexual images 
aren't getting апу youn imber 
of the Router stars and starlets of only а 
year or two ago are already starting t0 
fade. Faye Dunaway, whe began to put 
more into her olfscree ances thun 
her onscreen characterizations. is a case 
in point. Alter a notable sereen debut i 
Bonnie and Clyde. she was hotter than 
the proverbial pistol. Bur then came 
the iances—with Marcello 
Mastroianni during the filming of the 
acid Where Lovers Meet, with Jerry 
Schatzberg while making the di 
Puzzle of a Downfall Child. possibly 
old mentor, Elia. Kazan, while 
Ларс own novel, 
Anangement. Doc, in which her 
chic good looks were almost. maliciously 
ed by great gobs of dirty gray 
make-up, was hardly а leg upward, Still 
10 come is а prize role opposite Geo 
C. Scott in Stanley Kramer's Ohlahoma 


Strous 


ion of his 


Crude, and another in an adaptation of 
D. Н. Lawrence's The Plumed Serpent. 
At this poim, however, Dun: fate is 
very much in the balance 
Even more so is Julie Chri 
continues her longterm, 
romance with Warren Bea 
not only been absent fr 
1979—she hasn't even announced the 
saring date for а picture. Concen 
about not taking an unsuitable role is 
one thing. but for any actress iment on 
asp on stardom, this 
is ridiculous. Candice Bergen. wo. has 
withdrawn from the public eye since her 
appearances in T. А. Baskin and Carnal 
Knowledge. A woman of many parts (not 
all of them in films). she writes. photo- 
akes a hobby ol sports. 
Vanesa Redgrave and Glenda Jackson. 


e's, as she 
tern 
ty. Julie has 
n the screen in 


both of whom were coming on strong 
only a year or so ago, seem to have 


settled for characier roles. 

As we observed earlier about the men 
in movies, it’s olten ditheult to diagnose 
whether a star is fading or holding his 
or her—own. Raquel Welch hopes that 
a single film, Kansas Сиу Bomber, will 
ke all the ditlerence. Twelve months 
. Raquel’s prospects were less than 
promising. After years of edging toward 
е. she had pinned all ol her 
expeerations on the success ol Myra 
Breckinridge. a wiumph that lor any 
number of reasons (the least of which was 
Raquel herseli) never happened. Alter 
hat debade, her hen husband and 
manager, Patrick Curtis, took her to bu- 
rope and. on the strength of her name, 
promoted funds for a brace of films that 
uluminely proved an aane embarrass- 
ment to everyone concerned. Hannie 
Caulder had her loping across the lone 
prairie in a loosesitting poncho riddled 
with almost as many holes as the plot 
The Beloved was pronounced. umelcas- 
able. Her role in Fuss, that of a female 
cop. was little more than a walk-on, But 
as the gum-chewing. hanldriving, roller 
skating pro in Kansas City Bomber, Ra- 
quel displayed once again. (generally via 
costumes) опе OL the most 
spectacular shapes in show business, and 
clean, robust vitality ihat was 

ppe: 
rbra Streisand, ever canny in her 
choice of material, started the year with 
What's Up, Doc, which harked back 
bly ıo the zany comedies of the 
Thirties, paired her (lor a time, roman 
tically as well) with Ryan O'Neal and 
newly rev “ 
cuough of the old Barbra to remind us 
that she may still be the leading song 
stylist of our time, Another comedy, Up 
the Sandbox. with fantasy overtones, 
may be along before the year is out. 

Lovely Catherine Deneuve, off 
sere s while carry 
Marcello Mastroianui’s child, was repre 
se by a tearjerker called I1 


also 
immensely 
р. 


led her talent for E 


the 


лі for several moi 


ted this y 


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Only Happens to Others and by а Cin- 
derellalike fairy tale, Peau (Апе (Don- 
key Shin). which. for all its charm. is 
this e 

de-Ann, 
with Michael Caine, will prove the re- 
storitive that she clearly needs Aher her 
Lo Story, dark-eyed Ali 
uve, was forced off 
maternity. Mi 
executive Robert 
1 and returned to 


iu 
MacGraw, like De 
by 


ph in 


the sereen by imminent 
manicd Paramount 
Evans. bore him a d 
work in The Getaway (unreleased at 
the time of writing). during the shoot 
ing of which she provided reams of copy 
for the gossip columns because of her 
obvious attachment 10 eve 
MeQueen. In July, the 
nounced that they were calling it quits. 
Sexy Dyan Cannon, Cary Grant's ех. is 
apparently of the persuasion that an 
acrew should aa in thing that 
comes along, just to remain in the public 
eve: and this y she has been seen in 
such dillies as The Burglary and Such 
Good Friends, with Shamus still. to 
come. Since this is obviously Burt Reyn- 
olds year, Dyan might just possibly ride 
in on his trench-coat tails. Elizabeth "Тау 
lor (and husband. Richard Burton. 100. 
Tor that matter) would scem to agree with 
Dyan, for how else cin one explain her 
appearances in X, Y c Zee and Ham- 
mersmith Is Ош? Surely, she can’t plead 


cn. 
Evanses an 


poverty 
Jacqueline Bisset, Goldie Маки, 
Tuesday Weld and Susannah York. 
long with such leser luminaries as 


15 
1ypecast 


t Ekland and P; 
ids. the or 
ably summoned when the part calls lor a 
young, withit chick with few hang-ups. 
The fact that most of them are abo very 


accomplished acres 


© the: 
s who are invari- 


ila. Prentiss, 


s is obviously 


ondary consideration-—and. по doubt. a 
dle frustration for all 
of them, Veteran Shirley MacLaine ha 
chosen the opposite approach. Alter 
sol playing the brash girl about town 
who has been everywhere and kuows. 
everything, alter having been one of the 
"in" people of Frank М s old 
pack,” she took the reins of her ca 
firmly in hand and. this y метей 
cllectively as a dramatic star in Desperate 
Characters and The Possession of Joel 
Delaney. Although both roles represented 
а complete about-face for her 
her the critical kudos that she so badly 
ad wanted. Now 
Miss MacLaine iy more th 


source of consider 


yen 


сег 


they wo 


needed. 


n holdi 
may be 


own—and, speculation has i 
he 


carving herself a 

But the earth cw 
tuming it uncovers 
fuls, new pote 
haps the most promising is 
d a brief, sunny 
role ay Al Pacino's second wile in The 
Godfather, then scored strongly аз 
Woody Allen's all-too-understandin 


» pol 
nd with 
you 
In 1972, pe 
wide-eyed 


new 


Diane Keaton, who h 


Iylriend in Play I Again, Sam. (She 
had played the same role for beuer than 
two years on Broadway. but still man- 
aged 10 look as if she were hearing 
Allen's wacky dialog for the first time.) 
Also up and coming is Valerie Per 
rine (pronounced Purr Rhine). especially 


since her appearance as Montana Wild 
hack in Slanghterhouse-Five, Alter an 


interlude in Europe, financed by work 
as а Las Vegas nude showgirl. Valer 
venuned our to Hollywood and, in 
sequence of events that supposedly hap 
pens only in fiction, she mer an agent 
who hustled her over to Universal to test 
for Slaughterbonse-Five, Out of some 200 


contenders. she won the role—and 
riavsoy Ге The offers have been 
coming im ever since. 

But the woods are full of girls who 


eye at the right time. 
Irom Britain via Broadway. 
mpresive American hlm de 
irl who allayed for all time 
George С. Scotus [ears of impotence in 
The Hospital. Susan Tyrrell, from ofl- 
was no less impressive as the 
misogynistic dame with whom 
Reach shacks up in Fat City 


cath the 


ап 


Масу 
From the London stage came Francesca 


Annis, Pokmski’s youthful Lady Macbeth 
in the Playboy production ul Shake- 
speare’s ragedy, Shapely. sensuous Paukı 
Pritchett, twice а subject ol PLAYBOY 
pictori top model with the 
Eileen Ford Agency umil director 
Kadar. secinp one of her commerci 
cast her im his film Adrift—which 
immediately followed by а karger, more 
demanding role in Ralph Nelson's HW rath 
of God. opposite Robert Mitchum. Other 
models following the same route include 
Maude Adams. Candy Clark, Samantha 
єз and Gwen Welles (leatured in our 
month). the many 
es who have moved [rom center- 
Cr screci € Sue Bernard, 
twins, Claudia Jennings. 
leland. Cynthia Myers. Dolly 
Read. Anne Randall and Victoria Veni 
(known ay Angeli Dorian when she 
braved the great stapler in September 
1967). The gorgeous Victoria. Principal. 
described hy some nel Ava Gard 
ner. has had a crees it 
had been discovered in a fortune cookie 
Although she had taken acting lesons in 
all parts of the world, she had never ap 
peared professionally on any stage when 
she was summoned to read for The Life 
and Times of Judge Roy Bean, opposite 
Paul Newman. She got the pan (as 
his Mexican mistress) and immediately 
therealter for an even more 
important role in Playboy's lorthcom 
y production of The Naked Ape. 


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Among 


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ladies to fill them. Perhaps in the lead 
at the moment is Rosalind Cash. 
made a strong impression last 
her supporting roles in. Klute 
Omega Man. this as Масу Keach’s 
sympathetic nurse 
rions, and апай 
MGM's Melinda. 
Allen 


Tiny. electric. Jouelle 
oval Пот a principal role 
the Broadway hit Tuo Gentlemen о] 
Verona 10 the romantic lead in Come 
Back Charleston Blue. Kathy Imrie, а 
fashion model and ve of TV com 
s, moved this year into the bi 
as Richard Roundirec’s girlfriend 


McBroom Sykes, all of 
whom have around Hollywood 
lor the past s casons, have sud 
denly found themselves in constant de 


find of 1972 is 
Tyson, with a 
head like a Malvina Hollman sadpiure 
Miss Tyson stood ont аз th 
ing, resentful black gil im her only 
previous film performance, in The 
Heart Is a Lonely Hunter, some time 
back. This year, as the brave young 
mother in Martin Rit's moving portrait 
of a black family, Sounder, she has won 
unanimous and many are con 
vin ded for an Academy 
nomi 
The year’s most unconvention 

into motion pictures, h 
made by blonde. statuesque N 
lande currently at work with E 
ert Altman's 

The Long Goodbye. Plunged imo the 
headlines because of her not-so-clandes. 
tine Mexican holiday with literary loi 
swoggler Clillord Irving, the baroness (by 
or marriage) seized opportunity by 
its golden forclock and wis soon being 
seen—and һезгй—оп talk shows every- 
where. Nina had been a moderately suc 
cesful folk singer in European night 
clubs: her sudden notoriew promptly won 
her an engagement in the swank Maio 
neue room of New York's St. Regis. a 
six lignes 


mand. But the grene: 


smolder- 


tior 


len 


book contrac reputed to be 


dilleren about the 
vies 


Ihe m 
h sex more 


films of 1072. 
10 appro: 


ve begin 
ngerly, 19 cut 
circumspectly away from those moments 
of nudity that les than a year ago 
would have been boldly Haunted. Ауа 
result, these upcoming starlets, who hope 
one day to be trandormed. it 
edged sex stars. are probably 
have to do it the hard way 
exposing vast qi 
but by impl 
contaimable sexuality. 
mastered the trick, [roi 
R aquel Welch. the film medium 
ways reserved its highest honors. 


those who 
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292 


POWER!/ MURRAY KEMPTON илеш prom page 189) 


their own, they settled for marrying 
into it. 

Even so, Machiavelli 
servedly revered ever since 
tor of every profesional 
The Prince is largely unse 
manual lor governing: bur it h 
been improved. upon as а handy 
10 writing grant applications. Machi: 
velli almost invented the mass market for 
intellectual prostitution. For one thi 
he had the requisite largeness of soul 
and breadth of vision. since he was a 
who. as he himself said. would be 
lackey of 
inoth 


has been de- 
s the ances 
iclleciual. 


yone who wore a better 
г. he understood that it 
» one's career to tell 
how to exercise what little 
power he has than it is to [eed his 
illusions that he has a great deal ol 
power, indeed. Government had learned 
10 be shameless well before. Machiavelli 
ppeared: his true immortality was in 
teaching governments. fatterers to be 


the 
cloak, For 
is less helpful 


one's ра 


just as shameless. 

Best of all. he invented the language 
that the servant might most comfortably 
employ in discourses with his 
Machiavelli was wildly romantic: but he 


master. 


had the misfortune of needing to find 
work in an age when romance had been 
destroyed. by reality. The spirit of chiv- 


alry that had failed the test of expe 
Machiavelli's gene 
perectly summarized by Cervantes whe 
he Imer 
when Don Quixote mistook a herd of 
sheep for a glittering assemblage ol 
rmed knights 

"Can you not" Don Quixote asked, 


ence 


came то describe the me 


ent 


the neighing of the horses, the 
pets, the roll of drums? 

said Sancho P: 
except the bleating of sheep." 

There is. of course. very lite fun for 
a knight warrior and no profit lor a 
squire in looking at a sheep and calling 
it а sheep instead of a knight at arms. 
Fortunately, Machiavelli rescued the in- 


Ma. 


vellectuals when he taught them that 
romance could thencelorth sell itself 
wise of realism. Ever 


only in rhe di 
ince, whenever а statesman is suffering 
the intrusion of reality between 
himself and whatever. bright. particul 
moon he happens to be baying at. there 
has ас hii a Machiavellian 
certifying his romantic delusions as the 
simplest common sense. History owes 10 
Machiavelli's instruction. as a conse 
quence, hardly a single act of shining 
statesmanship: vet there is по way to 
count the numbers of women and chil- 
dren unfortunate enough to depend 
upon ihi 
have been in his debt for their food a 
He did almost nothing 10 
prove the mind, but he packaged it for 
distribution 

The more populous and democratic a 
society is, the loltier Machiavelli's posi- 
1 its academies, Theories of power 
re the opiate of the impotent and 
therefore seldom of interest to the truly 
powerlul Thus, in real tyrannies. no 
one talks about power: and if everybody 
talks about it in countries like this onc, 
that is because nobody visible has any 

When y civilization is as dilluse as 
our own, it iv sale to assume that if you 


earnings of poor scholars who 
id 
im- 


lodei 


ire 


“Your looks are OK. Run through your orgasm.” 


man’s name, you can 
at all 
Henry 


have ever heat a 
be assured that he has no pow 
Let us observe the case of Dr. 
Kissinger, who is so universally recog 
nized as a mover and shaker of history 
that the world must be close to sulloca- 
tion just from holding ity breath over 
his comings and his goings. And yet this 
same Dr. Kissinger was recorded a year 
as waili © President of the 
United States was giving him hell every 
half hour because he couldn't rescue poor 
Pakistan from the steel talons of India. 
Innocent. refugees from reality might. 
of course, argue Irom such а spectacle 
that Mr. Nixon must have no mean 
power if he could thus exerci 
ts common scold upon a person as au- 
у Kissinger's Yet the Presi- 
dent was les obviously displaying апу 
real power than he was railing against 
genuine impotence; at that moment. he 


e his range 


was in the process of being beaten down 
by Madame Gandhi, the prime minister 
of India. which is very like being over 


borne by the authority of some di 


Luly of a chapter of the 


Women Votes. But then, impotence is 
the habitual companion of majesty: the 
grander the the рист the 
enemy who n Peking. for exam- 
ple. is unable 1 even Hanoi: 
and Moscow cannot find in Cairo. even 
the minimal courtesies due rhe most 
ordinary guest in anyone's house. Mr 
Kissinger's triumphs consist of з 
peace with, hich we are 
not at war: кз Statesman 


of casing tensions anywhere they 
at exist. Each of the rateful to 
go to the Soviet Union and to People’s 


China, amd both of those giants are 
glad to receive them, because nobody 
che bothers to take seriously either 


guest or host 

By now, Sov 
of the revolution and America hus lost 
control ol counterrevolution; be 


ot Russia has lost control 


the 


mused, we look upon a world where the 
surings of 


puppeunasters dance on the 
the puppets and the only les e su- 
perpowers are Israel and North Viet 
nam. So Mr. Nixon is left with every 
ornament of power and very lew ol its 
fundaments, having ¢ to that 
place so familiar to the rest of us wl 
property is all credit cards and no capi- 
tal resources, But, alter all, the general 
Iecklessness of govern! ized 
by pretty much everyone 
professional Machiavelli 
dle the illusions of its majesty lor their 
1 
Otherwise, how to explain the 
our movie theaters turned into t 
of worship for The Godfather, hs 
stitution of the myth of a secret 
ment for the Fact of a patently lecble 
official oue? For more of us are con 
ist than anarchist; we long to be g 
emed: and we yearn to believe that there 


me down 


me 


nt is recog 
except 
ns who 


the 


ped 


daily bres 


t somewhere be а power capable of 
atching over and protecting us; and, 
since no such power exists, we have had 


to invent Don Vito Corleone. And, 
along with such fictions of die pure 
ation, we sustain ourselves with 


bout real persons 
ir need for such nutriment explains 
the reputation of Howard Hughes as a 
ruler of everything within his compass 
And now The Wall Street Journal can 
estimate that, since Hughes established 
his seat at Las Vegas, people whose names 
we have forgotten managed, almost са 
ally, to steal $50,000,000 from him. The 
more awesome anyone makes himself to 
the innocent, the more abounding a 
resource he is to the larcenous. 

Or let us take the figure of Frank 
ura, a legend of power so pervasive 
that we have по reason to doubt that if 
seized him to sing in the 
ie Chapel in Easter week, his Holi- 
ness the Pope would hasten to the book- 
ing. Any such majesty might reasonably 
be expected to extend to any prince of 

: yet now we learn that 
had to kick back five 
percent of his singing wages to a Las 
Vegas hotel manager. The author of this 
eilrontery has a name upon which the 
slightest fame has never breathed; and 
that condition illustrates the first rule 
about power: In amy struggle for com- 
mand, the winner is the onc closest to 
being anonymous. 
The only enduring. power 


su- 


indeed is 


not the kind that overmasters but the 
kind that frustrates, not the kind that 
strides forward but the kind that only 


squats and blocks the path. If our pan- 
theon has a ruling god, it is not Jove 
who hurls the thunderbolts but Cerber- 
us, the 50-headed dog—50 heads, you 
e, and none with a memorable fea- 
that stands before the 
te to the nether world 
any of the living who seek to enter or 
any of the dead who try to depart. The 
ics remind us how powerful they 
аге not when they illuminate our cities 
but when they black them out. Real 
power in Congress belongs to those com- 


by passing laws but by imped 
passage. The committee ch 
course, too smart 10 endanger themselves 
by competing with the President in the 
commission of truly consequential bl 
ders; so they never interfere with him in 
those Caesarist delusions that distract 
him into foreign adventures; they are 
quite ready to free him to be frustrated 
by the superior power of any alien pyg- 
my with a will to stand in his way. 

For the managers of the Congress un- 
derstand what ў 


men 


the President does 
The wider its compass, the quicker all 
power dissipates into the empty ай. The 
trick iy to avoid every temptation to the 
cosmic and to establish one's throne o 


“Ws sweet of you kids, but Daddy doesn't want 
а vasectomy for Christmas.” 


a piece of te 
notices it um 


ory so small that no one 
I he has to cross it and 
finds out that he must рау you to p: 
through, 

That is why the only American ty- 
rants worthy of respect are the petty 
ones—the secretary who tells her boss 
whether or not he ought to see you or 
the union business agent who tells the 
union member whether or not he can 
work today. They never have more than 
100 people at their mercy: any con- 
stiwency lager than that is generally 
beyond control. And they can be recog 
ed only by their di 
glamorous idea seldom absolutely real- 
ized by any but the dowdiest persons. 
Beautiful women and vaultingly 
tious men do not often achieve real 
power; they do not stay in the same 
place long enough. 

Who. ther can 
powerful? 

Abbie Hoffman or the police depart 
nts he torments? Obviously, Abbie 
Hoffman. Otherwise, the Miami Police 
Department would not h 
попсу trying to cont 
it would have 
every demonstr 
1 ше splen 
ntaineble: 
The Chief Justice of the 
Court or the ordi 


bness: power is 


mbi- 


really be called 


ave spent more 
his troops than 
needed to accommodare 
or who cime at his call 
misery of the Hotel 


upreme 
ry citizen? Probably 


the ordinary citizen, since the more fer- 
vently the Chief Justice labors to make 
their business easier for public prosecu- 
tors, the more stubbornly do the ordi 


y citizens sitting on juries acquit 
minal suspects. 
The fit or the шшмий? Certainly, the 


unfit, ness the case of the Lock 
heed Corporation. ing ex 
hausted its funds by botching every 
assignment it has undertaken, i 
ed by Congress with S250,000.000 to 
hotch on into eterni 

The rational or the deranged? Clear- 
ly. the deranged: The most сап 
chapters in the history of the United 
States for the last decade have been 
written by assassins. The power to 
change Presidents, the subject of the 
incessant and futile schemings of so 
many sensible men, has esse 
exercised by unknown оше 
ineffectual in ev 

‘Those who hold title to offic: 
or those who resist them? N 
afraid, Mr. Nixon c 
and those who oppose him cannot keep 
from trying. We are all together on a 
hopeless voyage—those who think them- 
selves powerful and those who [eel 
themselves powerless i ach able to 
stop the other and neither able to move. 


wi 


which, hi 


y other endeav 
1 power 
ither, I'm 


nnot win his war, 


293 


» POWER!/RALPH NADER (шиш from рше 19%) 


PLAYB 


294 


additional nickel a gallon for gas be- 
ise of the oil-import quota, which U. S. 
1 companies obtained to keep th 

domestic price levels high and more 
secure. from the competition of overseas 
oil supplies, which they mostly operate! 

This is a typical example of how 
the Federal Government is 
used to protect corporate interests rather 
than the average citizen. Federal agen- 
Чез are excessively vulnerable to speci 
interest groups. and so they can't 
respond to the silent citizen's interest. 
They respond to the pressures and lures 
of special claimanis and end up carrying 
out their orders about tax legislation 
antitrust cases, special subsidies, lat con 
tacts in the defense area, and so on. 

In many cases. these private groups 
have power to write their own laws, and 
then, when necessary. the power 10 see 
that the law is not enforced. That's been 
Important in such areas as ion, the 
food-and-drug laws, meat inspection 
mine safety, 
weakened and ignored despite documen- 
tary evidence last 


power in 


ol violations. In 


hine Mine disaster in Ich 
which 91 men were killed. there 
had been the Metal and 
Nonmetallic Mines Safety Act of 1966, 


But the act carries absolutely по penal- 


violations of 


tics for violations of mandatory safety 
standards. 
Our American Revolution was based 


on the сту "No Taxation Without Rep- 
resentation.” A more appropriate cry 
for today wonld be "No Victimization 
Without Representation." People wal 
ing down the street breathe con 
ed air that causes respiratory. diseases, 
Industry produces that pollution, so in- 
Чимту is. in elfect, governing these 
people, determining what kind of air they 
shall breathe, Bur because most. people 
aren't Large shareholders. or managers. 
they have no say in such decisions, May. 
be а few cin afford expensive kuwyers 10 
sue. but that’s 100 cumbersome, too elitist, 
There is an 


amd success is not automatic 
old legal doctrine—fortunately, its Fad- 
ing that says that people don't 
have legal standing to challenge a com 
pany before a Federal regulatory agency 
unless they've been adversely: айса 


now 


"Aud now, our newly elected leader. A man 
of courage, the people's choice—lhe lesser of two evils. . . . 


economically. Tl 


s another way of say- 
ap. unless they're in business. If. insti- 
tutional power is going to be made 
accountable, a legal challenge has to be 
legit for anyone who's been or is 
about to be injured or cheated, economi- 
cally or otherwise. 

Corporations are insulated. from 
countability by laws that favor them and 
because the public doesnt see them 
robbing us the way it can see street 
criminals. Managers can fix prices in 
their executive suites. fleecing us of m 
lions of dollars, without our ever know- 
ing it: or they can decide not to include 
certain safety features on automobiles. 
and people will be killed or injured 
without ever knowing why 

Theoretically, power у 
he abused in our system becuse of 
“countervailing forces." One industry 
should curb. another. industry's. excesses 
hy competition. On paper. the insurance 
industry should have been a major force 
protecting the consumer against. unsafe 
mobiles. But iusura panics 
simply chose to pass the high toll in 


ma 


ac 


n't going 10 


damages and injuries on to the con- 
sumer, in the form of highe 
‘That was much easier than fight 


anto makers. 
Since industry generally 
pt use йу countervailing powers in 
the public interest. the approach now 
should be to develop a citizens force 
Not by just plac wyer on the 
other side of the aisle when a Govern- 
ment agency iy making a decision but by 
restr the regulatory agencies to 
see d re uot completely vulne 
ble to spe sts and, if they be- 
come vulne to see that the public 
ds out about As it sands. the 
regulatory agencies are so weak that 
they have become oppressive to the public 
by consistently acceding to industry's 
wishes. The anmual budgets of all the 
agencies put together don't. equal three 
days’ gross revenue ol General Motors 
In achieving that kind of accountabil 
you need more than a sense of 
justice, or injustice, or a sense of ethics 
and outrage. You must bave expli 
standards that the corporations and Gov 
ernment agencies have to meet. Indi 
viduals within institutions are supposed 
to be exposed 10 direct sanctions. As it is, 
the company is supposed 10 comply with 
the law. What if a particular official were 
designated as Ue compliance offic 
You'd suddenly have a person with 
vested interest in seeing that the com- 
pany didn't ignore or sneak around the 
law. because he'd be the one who could 


prefers 10 


lobby wi 
the right thing. 

Making power insecure by forci 
ficials to realize that the law applies 
directly to them as individuals is terribly 
important. If power is going to be exer 


cised responsibly, it has got to be struc- 
ed in an insecure manner; and in our 
system now, there is an excess of secur 
y in institutional power. The ultimate 
tyrant is the person who can't lose any- 
thing. While we read all the time about 
. do we ever read about 


corporate abuse 
ls losing their jobs or being fined? 
These arent Draconian sanctions 


They're relatively mild. But they would 
be enormously effective. because they 
couldn't be папе from the insti- 
tution to the public through higher 
prices, which is what happens with our 
present system of rare company fines and. 
court injunctions. 

I think it’s also very important that 
those who make the decisions experience 
the conditions the victims experience 
We should develop a system of law and of 
business management in which the heads 
of the automobile companies spend а cou 
ple of weeks each year on the assembly 
line. and the heads ol the coal companies 
spend a couple of weeks а усаг in th 
mines. This would rapidly develop some 
of the sensitivity that is lacking in man 
agement decisions and would imme- 
tly divide those people into two 
groups: the ones who are hopelessly cal 
lous and the ones who don't do the ri 
basically beciuse they don't know 
1 what should be done. Most execu- 
never relate to the assembly lines 
nor to the mines, They just see paper. 
Balance sheets, income statements, finan- 
cial reports. So they dont see themselves 
as indillerent or negligent, and that's part 
of their problem. 

But finally, the public is beginning to 
understand that corporate crime. corpo- 
rite pollution and corporate distortion 
of our laws take more lives, destroy 
more property and deplete more con- 
imer income than all the street crimes 


tives 


put together, For the first time, ihe 
public is on the threshold of really fic 
the question of power. The old 

le between communism and capi 

sm was about whether power cor- 


rupts in private industry or in the state. 
There's a lot of hard experience to 
prove that it corrupts in both places. 
You simply can't. put toral faith in the 
box you place your power in. Look at 
the unions. On paper, they're an ideal 
structure for democratic power. Workers 
get together, assess themselves dues and 


elect leaders to fight for them. But ем 
that structure often been abused, 
turned into a bureaucratic tyranny. So 


people are becoming aware that no 
ution will serve them unless they 
maintain both a systematic and an ad 
hoc way of controlling. it. 

By systematic 1 mean. for example, 
through real elections, with real issues 
represented by opposing candidates who 
aren't in debt to special-interest groups 
Tor campaign funds. By ad hoc I mean 
that access to the Executive Branch 
cies, to local, state and Federal govern 


шеп. 


ments to the courts. to the legislatures 
d to executive suites js made casier, so 
that citizen movements can actually im- 
plement their rights. Our system recog 
izes а tremendous number of rights. but 
olten it's a fraud. Its no good to tell a 
hetro resident t he can sue if he's de- 
frauded, then not provide him with free 
legal service. Its important that the pub- 
lic have initiatory power, individually or 
collectively, to mobilize ad hoc groups 
amd achieve practicil remedies simply 
because they are citizens. 

The first step is the whole disclosure 

proces—as in the consumer 
mental movement ol the last. decade— 
building up a credible body of 
to show the public how it's being victim 
ized. Some people come to me and say, 
"See, the news is out, everyone knows 
what's happening, and nothing changes. 
Nonsense! Whoever said disclosure was 
the final step? It's the fist step. 
Now you've got to show people that 
is within their power to prevail over the 
institutions, If citizen. groups can win 
small victories. then they'll try for bi 
ger ones. In this citizens’ force, reliance 
should not he placed exclusively on 
strengthened Federal Government. We've 
already got enough huge and oppressiv 
institutions. Sticugthi at local and state 
governments should carry much of the 
игеп Га like 10 see state attorneys 
general fom around the country move 
with antitrust suits to restore competition 
at а local devel. There should be more 
emphasis on local consumer. class actions 
iud on improving the effectiveness ol 
such devices as small-claims courts. People 
who can't afford a lawyer for а 5300 prob. 
lem should have access to legal aid at the 
smallclaims level. Basically, this whol 
process is nothing more than gett 
people interested once again in self 
government, Until now, we've looked at 
citizenship as a privilege or as the efforts 
ol citizen mavericks, I's got to be looked 
at as an obligation. It's got to be profes 
sionalized, so that people begin feeling 
they can develop citizenship techniques 
that will reduce their powerlessness: 
they realize theyll be more expert as 
citizens if they work at it. We have 
carcers in this country for practically 
yihing, but no career as fulltime 
zen ve looked at citizenship as 
forever amateur. But there aren't апу 
amateurs in those executive suites, 

In legitimizing these fulltime citizen 
cllorts. we've got to redefine work and 
patriotism. Work has been considered 
done in return for a wage or 
à lot of work to be done 
citizen area that doesn’t return a 
wage. It returns a better standard of 
living and a more just society. And 
patriotism isn't military adventures 
s. It should be defined as citi 
zenslip at home. 


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295 


THE MISSISSIPPI „г 


self. German 


built them on the river 
prisoners of war built the most compre- 


» 
е 
а 
* hensive of the river models at Jackson 
Li 
A 
2 


during World War Two. Good duty, the 
colonel in charge of the Vicksburg sta- 
hold 


“The Germans sti 
time to to adn 
their loy. Another model, now 
defunct but serviceable in its time, oc- 
cupies 1 the size of a football field 
at the Vicksburg station. You cm мер 
з the river on the model as 
ly as you would step across a ditch. 
The Mississippi lady who guides you on 
the tour must call up fist and ask the 
pump house to turn the river on. Here is 
Vicksburg, a short hike down the model is 
Natchez, and down farther the Aichafa- 
laya flows in from the west. Trees ol 
green wire tower above the on а 
aere islands and along the batture, the 
land riverward of the levees. The levees 
themselves are scaled disproportionately 
They look like the walls of medi- 
eval forts, The model is moment in the 
river's lile and it serves its purpose, but 
more subtle models await us indoors. 

Today, to model the river, the station 
works on a larger scale along shorter 
sections. Inside buildings whose tin roofs 
cover an acre ol land, garden bulldozers 
gouge out bull day. To known meas- 
urements of the river. tinsmiths make 
templates that guide workers who b 
up the river bed by haud, flooring it with 
sand or powdered coal that duplicates 
the silt on the bottom, City water from 
Vicksburg pulses up over head bays and 


tion says today 
reunions from 


е 


Hows downstream, meandering, chang- 
ing course as the real river does, and 


imo this model river the engineers insert 
locks and dams and jetties and watch 
the water flow. Er rubber wad. 
as walk the river, clipboards in hand, 
or negotiate miniature barges through 
model locks with r 
reasonably accurate work and it has 
saved American taxpayers millions of 
dollars among the billions that the 
Corps's work on the river has cost, but it 
catches the imp of fancy. It lelt me 
Lancying that all our military men might 
live at stations mapped with giant games 
and thar the station compounds mi 
be fenced with high Cyclone lengin 
the barbed top wires fang in. Lhe 
Waterways ei have modded Asian 
rivers in their time and may model the 
Mekong Delta one of these days, if there 
is any delia lelt to model. Models can- 
not reproduce bomb craters, nor the 
tiny corpses of the Asian dead, no mat- 
ter how many might liter the banks. 
There are degrees of madness: Playing 
with models would be one of the lesser 
degrees il the models were not expand- 
ed again outward into the real world. 
In one of Waterways! buildings stands 
296 а model of Niagara Falls. "We used this 


neers i 


dio controls. lt is 


ne 


^ 180) 
model 10 save the falls,” 
guide. Upriy 
power dam, 


says the lady 
‘om the falls stretches a 
They shut off the falls at 
night"—she means the real ones, not the 
model—"and store up water in the reser- 
voir above the dam. They turn the falls 
back on during the day for the honey- 
mooners, Oh, and leave them on until the 
lights go out about ten o'dock. They 
don't want to spoil the scenery for the 
tourists.” She would be certifiable if her 
statement weren't true. The engineers 
shut off Ni. Falls at night and tarn 
them on by day for tourists. To generate 
electric power. 

They would shut off the Mississippi if 
they could. Since they can't, they have 
set out to pave it. Dams on its upper 
reaches and tributaries, levees and dive 
sion channels on its lower stream con 
tain it from all but the most enormous 
of floods. That work is nearly complete 
md it cost us far more than it cost to go 
to the moon. But the Mississippi mean- 
ders, to its own whim, and а shitting 
channel threatens the expensive levee 
works and complicates shipping, so the 


ra 


Corps means to hold the Mississippi to 
low 


its present bed. To that end, in 
water, boats leave stations 

lower river laden with asphalt 
crete mats and fit them 
hanks of the river where it works 10 cut 
those b ay, on the out 
of its meanders. And mile atter mile on 
the lower river, jetties jut out into the 
water, their ends marked wih red 
buoys, deflecting the flow back within 
the channel. ‘The channel still shifts, 
but ifting is at least partly con 
uolled, and river pilos who once т 
memorized the river every trip now have 
some assurance that it will How approxi 
mately where it flowed before. But the 
process of adjustment goes on: Engineer 
ing is a matter of adjustment and oL 
adjustments then upon adjustments: the 
tolerances are coarse and the adjusting 


ide curves: 


its sl 


must go on, ensuring a luture lor the 
Corps. 
Men who turn Niagara Falls on a 


off like a tap aren't likely to leave the 
Mississippi River alone. A massive chal- 
lenge elicits from such men a massive 
response. Is it perverse to imagine that 
the Corps would bomb hell out of the 
iver if it thonght ny 
good? It planned as much for the succes- 
sor to the Panama Canal umil the Nu- 
dear Test Ban Treaty scotched its plans. 
It was going to blast out a new can 
with atomic bombs. Hell of a lot easier 
n dredging. Sorcerers apprentices, 
the Corps, with more funds available to 
it from Congress over the years tha 
NASA, and seldom a sorcerer nearby 
to call a halt. 

Here is a model of New York, Long 
Island, the coasts of Connecticut and 


would do 


to 


New Jersey, and over there is a tide 
generator and fans to imitate the hesh- 
ening wind blowing in from the Ad 
that mixes the salt with the less than 
Here is Los Angeles-Long Beach, 
there the Arkansas and the Red and the 
Rio Grande. They are modeling artifi- 
cial harbors по be built up and down the 
California coast to accommodate super- 
tankers. They are planning a navigable 


a, more’s di 
that beleaguered shallow 
1 is too subtle to duplicate on 
the original itself. But from 
building to building, indoors and out of 
doors, the Mississippi lady returns you 
н and again to sections of the river, 
It has been the Corpss greatest chil 
lenge and its greatest reward. more 
dams, more jetties, more and more as- 
phalt mats, higher and higher levees. 
nd still today not controlled, still evad- 
ing the turn of the magic tap 
t least, we may be thankful. 
"One who knows the Mississippi.” 
wrote Samuel Clemens more than 100 
years a 


For that, 


will рготрпу aver—not aloud but 
to himself—that 10.000 River Com- 
missions, with the mines of the 
world at their back, cannot 
that lawless stream, cannot curb 
or confine it, cannot say to it. “ 
here,” or “Go there,” and make it 
obey; cannot save a shore which it 
lis sentenced; cannot bar its path 


with an obstruction which it will 
wot tear down, dance over, and 
laugh at, But а diser 


not put these things into spoken 
words; for the West Point е 
have not their superiors anywhere; 
they know all that can be known of 
their abstruse science; and so, since 
they conceive that they сап fewer 

d handeull th nd boss 
it is but wisdom for the un- 
1 to keep still, lie low, 
I they do it 


er 


him, 


lt may once have been wisdom to 
keep still and lie low, but it is not 
wisdom anymore. The mentality that 
fctiers and ndeuffs rivers is the same 
lity that threatens to pollute the 
ocean amd poison the air and salt the 
kl; and thc tific man finds 
more science walking beside a creek 
than the engineers yet teach in all their 
schools, aud he had dammed well better 
not id all the others like 
him want the earth to survive. The day 
of absuuse science is over, because па 
ture is more abstruse yet and evolved 
her academies over millions of years, 
and took short-term calculations of bene- 
fit into account and proved them wrong, 
made lush valleys into deserts and pushed 
ocean bottoms up into mountaintops and 


unscie 


long ago worked her adjustments out. 
[hey can be modified, but they cannot 
be ignored. 

Only co 
work, one of its upriver dams. Silt that 
once the river carried. away to the se 
now piles up behind the dam. Imag 
the extent of that silt, already one third 
up on some dams, 100 years [rom now. 
м it fills the reservoir, where will 
the Hoodwate h, but the Corps is 
v of tat pr 1 solve it 
Tt will build another dam u 
stream. But upstream are not deep 
carved canyons suitable for a dam, but 
prairie plain. where the 
spreads out across four. five, ten times as 
much hand. and good H The 
new dam is wid the new bike shallow 
and the silting th 

it did in the canyon тезах 
¢. The threat, however, is removed lor 
n. Where will the 
The Corps builds for today 
tions unborn, The prob- 
» flooding now. nor there 


E 


go? л 


n. hi wi 


ble 


а 


wale 


П. toa. 


re proceeds faster 


tha be- 
| 
another gei 
ter go th 
not for 
lem is here, 
ШЕШ rs hence. 
Thus. the Gorps’s mentality matches the 
idustries that refuse to 


wa 


nei 


темой 50 yc 


ty ol the i 


because the the 
lake îs nor ver thoroughly dead. or be 
competitors haven't stopped, 
or because the acis aren't all in 
because the cost is high and the divi 
dends to stockholders correspond 
or because it's cheaper to advertise 
concern. 

a limit to 


river or 


cause th 


or 


more than Matten our tin € 
our detergents for se 
ту our bottles back 10 the store 
have to do more than Hie low 


д baulchelds д 


We will 


The r 
ШЕП 


leads the 
named graves. 


мау, р 


Behind a blull overlooking the Missis 
sippi at Vicksburg. wrenches and redoubes 
now softened by green Lawn barricade 
the town. marked with n 
white muble gluing in the delta sun 
The Misisippi ran red with blood, 
guide says (it runs red today at Baron 
Rouge with bauxite waste [rom an alu- 
n smelting plant lead in that 


orials ol 


um 


waste, а nercury, Cyanide, 10 or 20 
other poisous—in trace amounts, the 
company mentalist demus). M 
Vicksburg, t unleashed the dogs of 
modem war. siege, wench and mine 
espionage and flank attack and block- 


id the citizens of Vicksburg ran to 
Is cut back into the N el- 
locss on which th 


ls of wi 


he: 


blown 
was built. At Vicksburg. before he took 


gel 


the city, Grant for once met his match: 
icd t0 dig a cutoff across the neck of a 
Misisippi meander and saw his men 
dying like flies of snake bite and yellow 


gnore him. He 


fever and looked at the 
he had heen defeated 

the more implacably te the land. ‘The 
battlefield, now a national military park 
is silent today, the enormous delta trees 
hardly moved even by the wind of sum 


river and knew 
And turned back: 


mer, silent as а battleficld in the midst 
of Баце when rhe cars cin bear no 
mos nshot and cannonade. Herc 


[UT 
behind ea 


boomed 
arded by 


nillery 
thworks gi 


ran 
from 
sharpshooter: nothing now but 
that might be burial mounds and the 
vod sealed over like skin grafted to hide 
у scar 

With elegant foppery, the generals of 
the War of the Potomac lined up Union 
and Confederate opposite each other i 
open fields and marched. them forward 
Eqopean style, while 
н of Washington ca 
nd to watel 
ely pawns, firi 
ne, firing 
the setting st 


mounds 


adies aad 


un 


aged out 10 
and men were 
and retreat in 


nd retreating in line, until 
stalemated the game and 


battle to wait [or picnic 
weather. the old way, the 
wa eved the world genteel and 
the dreams of men amusing and the 


gush of blood a tasteless mistake. Parisian 
ladies had coupled with imported Osage 
Indians a few decades earlier with no 
more concern. 

Grant believed otherwise, He knew the 
smell of fresh loam at plowing time and 
the rage of pride in a man when he 


wearing a wedding ving.” 


4. 


Потехе: 
де of som ma 


blazed the corner trees of a 
He knew the ta sh, too, 
nd the way it seemed to clean away the 
ist of poverty and shame. He took а 
nation’s dismemberment. as seriously 
he took a man’s and counted the lives of 
common men precious: but he also bore 
the stain of technology and could batter 
Confedei l children into 
tunnels, to make a point. He fought a 
modern war: The war was won on the 
battlehelds of the West. And the par 
dox of modern war is the same as th 
parados of the engineers’ work on the 

ppi. because both think somehow 
10 improve the lives of men with tech. 
logy, but both are partial technologies 
that do nor take the organism of nature, 
wn nature, sulliciently 
Ho account, Replace men with cannon, 
but. pound the enemy's homes. Bind the 
iver with dams bur [e 
the silting of the reservoirs and the 
danger of settlement on flood plains and 
pollute the river 
als and with oil 

Behind the Vicksburg Ыш. closest to 
the river, 


ме wives 


nd levees. 


get 


nd the Gull with met 


ab cemetery 
marked. with rows of the 
ymous dead. each body or fragment 
body celebrated with a numbered 
brick of marble or a headstone inscribed 
uxkwows. The Army buried the dead 
together in shallow graves after the h 
ue. They would have moldered th 


lies the nati 


rows and 


forever, but pig 


rooted up the corpses 
at Shiloh. C 


чашу pigs rooted at th 


297 


PLAYBOY 


298 


ional conscience and the national- 
cemetery system was hurried into 
and at Vicksburg 16,600 corpses were un- 
matted and laid out in individual plots 
with no more identity than the earth that 
covered them. There is something с 
cal about this green and peaceful ceme- 
tery where, between the numbered bricks, 
the spaces for the bodies seem all too 
small. The men were buried in common 
while the war raged on and only later 
did the rooting pigs call us back to 


do the anonymous bones some minor 
honor. Twain found more to respect at 
Vicksburg than 1. “Everything about 


this cemetery suggests the hand of 
tional Government. The Govern- 
meurs work is always conspicuous for 
excellence, solidity, thoroughness, neat- 
ness. The Government docs its work 
e, and then takes care 
But the dead lay unnamed at 
Vicksburg, and who in good conscience 
could repeat Twain's words today? 

Alter Vicksburg 1 visited another 
ve, searching for sources, а grave on a 
bluff like Vicksburg’s overlooking the 
Missouri River, a grave I had not visited 
lor 20 years: my mother’s, She died of a 
inshot wound, by her own hand, dur 
ing the despair of the Depression, in 
1938, when 1 was one year old. Hers was 

ghost T had never laid to rest, have 
only begun to lay to rest now, and, like 
the soldiers’ graves, her grave seemed too 
small to contain the of her 
los. I scarched for most of an hour 
before 1 found it down a hillside, a 
wilted peony on the stone dropped 
there by someone who had visited the 
cemetery carlier that day and wept not 
only for his own dead but also for the 
dead whom no one had yet scen fit to 
mourn with flowers. But the name was 
carved on the stone, and the word wire, 
and the dates, 1008, 1938, with а hyphen 
between to call forth to those who 
mourned her the meaning of her years, 


if meaning there was. More, at least, 
than a number. More than the word 
UNKNOWN. How the families of thc 
Vicksburg dead must have gr 


wander over the freshly sodded © 
the Vicksburg National Cemetery, after 
the speeches of dedication were done, 
nd find no identification at all, find 
only а field of corpses conveniently sepa 
rated and numbered like parts in a 
warehouse, The Government does its 
work well in the first place, and then 
takes care of it. 

Of all the Corpss civil works, the 
Mississippi remains the most recalcitrant, 
1 not be bound, and you must sce 
that engineers do not sleep peacefully 
with the flood of the river roaring in 
their cars, must even dream of it some 
times who pride themselves on never 
dreaming at all, dreams being the very 
antithesis of order to 


very suff of madness, though in uh 
they serve to keep us sane. 

Think of Mark Twain, the public man 
who intended to make his mark on the 
world with a machine called the Paige 
typesetter, a machine with 18,000 mov- 
ing parts in which he invested $200,000 
of Sam Clemens’ earnings as a writer. He 
believed. it would revolutionize typeset- 
ting: he intended it to make him a 
Whitney or a Rockefeller. It was a glo- 
rious machine, as machines go. It was 
mechanical man, and his undo- 
which secretly he knew. It bank- 
rupted him and sent him around the 
world to play the clown at lectures when 
с been home writing books. 
Tt was the node of his neurosis. the focus 
of the division within himself. AIL his 
life, he was divided between the ге 
wards of pulacing human 


and the satisfactions of unde 


them. Mark Twain worked his machine; 
Sam Clemens visited the river. 

Or think of the hills outside Vicks- 
bung, hills of dense, deep loess cut down 
vertically 50 feet or more to make room 
for highways and roads, cut so dramati- 
cally that you feel, driving between the 
cuis, as if you were driving throu 
baule uench. Above the cuts, 
delta foliage laps at the edges 
water of the river itself 
reach over for root they only barely 
cannot find. Change the angle of the 
cuts only a few degrees and the vines 
would race down the hillside and lock 
across the road and break it up and 


the Lush 


carry it away to the river and dump it 
in. Would do that in the name of an 
order that has nothing to do with аз 
phalt or the dozer blade. The dead at 

shurg know, waiting there under- 


ad impatient for Judgment Day 
and the return of their names: and from 
seeds diopped over their corpses, they 
have pushed up live oaks and magnolia 
arees that sometimes encase the stone 
rkers themselves, seizing them within 
s as the law seizes evidence in 

. So the river cuts at levees, its 
10,000,000 pressures resolved into. sine 
: elegant as the paths of missiles 
and as unswerving. 


gro 


. Almost forgotten 
By the dwellers in cilies—cver, how- 
«тет, implacable, 
Keeping his seasons and Tages, 
destroyer, reminder 
Of what men choose to forget. Un- 
honored, unpropitiated 
By worshipers of the machine, but 
ailing, watching and waiting. 


That is the river T. S. Eliot saw, the 
real river, the one Sam Clemens could 
not deny, though Mark Twain 
him to, to pay for his machine. 

Steamboat on the riv the Delta 
Qucen, met at night by one of her stores. 
boats run out from the wharf at Vicks- 


ged 


burg. Pasing us fist as we supplied а 
diesel tug, lit up like a distant carnival 
with lights run round her decks, her 
us red paddle wheel slapping the 
d her and her steam whistle 
twice as she beat on һу. Strain- 
up the river at five or sis miles an 
hour, hugging the banks, staying out of 
the sweep of the channel, the pilot alert 
n the night to the jetties buried 
under high water, his spotlight searchin 
the water and the flooded banks, She is 
not as elegant as the old steamboats were, 
but she is the most elegant. boat on the 
river today, @ visitor to the Mississippi 
who made the Mississippi her home. 
She built in California in 1926 
for the Sacramento River trade; тап 
from Sacramento down to San Francisco: 
then served honorably, painted diab, as 
a ferry in World War Two; was then 
crated and towed down the California 
coast and through the Panama Canal to 
New Orleans, and then up to Cincinnati 
and a home berth. Plies the river now on 
weekend excursions for the young and оп 


one-to-threeaweck excursions for the old 
who can afford the passige aud ihe 
time. Charged with ghosts that enlarge 


mi 


her pacific pleasures of card. games 
quiet dancing and calliope hikes around 
the decks into something somber, stately 
and irredeemably antique: ghosts of ages 
gone, ghosts of a time in American life 
when we made choices we must now 
vnmake. 

The Civil War ruined the river tade, 
discovered the uses of rails overland, 
changed the orientation of the continent 
from North-South to East-West, pre. 
pared us for industrialization. The Civi 
War put millions of men in ready-made 
clothes for the first time in their lives. 
gave them interch ble rifles, taught 
them to eat out of caus, forced them to 
arch together who had always before 
marched separately, to different drums. 

We might wish the South had won. 


| the homemade, 


rural and the lo 
we might wish today it had wor 
battle, even as we are glad it lost the 
other. Those today who defend the wil 
derness, the natural, against tecnol 
gone berserk, the Sierra. Clubs 
Environmental Defense Funds, a 
fighting the battle again, against 
ened odds. The Delta Queen sir 
to beat upstream where diesel barges 
laden with oil easily pass her by: The 
defenders of the environment could do 
worse than to take her for their standard. 
She is old and ine her only ex 
cuse for being on the river is the excuse 
that she is scaled to human scale and 
does not destroy. She may not s 
the river much longer. She is 
wood; wood burns, and а inen 
for ships at sea has been applied to 
her. She has received a few years ol 


е only 


wors 


law ow 


[Dont waste time with less powerful 
stylers, get Schick Styling Dryer] 
ج‎ 


This guy starts with a lot of wet 
hair. So do you, probably. 

Now, if you have a low-power 
styler, what happens? 

If you're in a hurry, your hair 
won't be dry enough to get the 
natural look you want. 

And, even if you have the time, 
using a styler that just drags along 
is pretty ridiculous. 

But, with the extra powerful 
Schick Styling Dryer, you have no 
problem. 

What's more, the extra power 
combines with the brushing—to 
give your hair a fuller, more natural 
look. Soft. But with real body. 

The guy here has it And he got 
it fast, even with his longer hair. 


New Control Spray that 


doesn't stiffen hair. 
Don't ruin the whole natural 
thing with a y. 
Get Schic Ў 
= 


It has proi 

the real key here. It helps 
give you that good con- 
trol, without giving you that 


| stiff, strewhead look, 


PLAYBOY 


300 


Congressional exception, but there 
those in Congress who do not wish hi 
well. 

By daylight 


re 


‘nen Wine 
шо: М 
abi rion: i 
АДАШ 
po 
Sins дү 
3 


from her deck, because 
the water is high and the Corpss works 
submerged, you see the river as De Soto 
or La Salle must have seen it, brown 


water and willow-zrown banks, and 
from Vicksburg to Memphis, a passage 


of two days and nights, hardly any work 
of анан in sight. A single skunk pushing 
through the brush on shore can fil the 
boat with its fierce musk. In the carly 
morning, the pilot whistles deer to break 
across glades at the water's edge. Impl: 
ble mosquitoes swarm aboard at dusk 
as if they have waited like the passengers 
for the dinner gong. The sun sets red 
into the green willows as if it were setting 
into the se 
If he had poled up the river instead 
ching to it overland, De Soto 

е thought the continent unin- 
habited. De Soto brought pigs to Amei 
pigs that would Kater root up the dead. 
Shiloh. He fed his men from the river 
nd knew its teeming life, catfish big as 
man, paddlefish bigger yet, with snouts 
like ocean swordfish and mouths baleened 
10 catch river plankton, their white meat 
fine as sole, their dark meat of a taste 
like the backwaters of the river under 
the banks late at night, a taste as yet 


зе. Colori: 
i^ Lindm W 
t 


Paw er 
ae 
imoni 


ий аша. эм: 
ALT" Oer: ust. e 


unnamed, 

Indians rowed out to challenge De Soto 
in 40-loot canoes hollowed from entire 
cottonwood єє, а since he са 
not to know the river but to domi- 
mate the men who lived on its flanks, 
he knew how to respond. The river he 
did not attend: It was only another obst 

3 it must have put him 
in a fine funk; even on a boat the 
size of the Delta Queen, you sense its 
aloofness from the parasites and sy 
bioms it carries om its back. It is as 
much а wall as Melville's und 
beyond that wall lurks nature itself. The 
paddle beats the water into successive 


play stip checkers 


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Comes with oversized soft fluff playing 


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Houston, Texas 77032 centuries to come before it closes over us 


"Texas residents add 57: tax таре iat ae 
Ihe river hardly seems 10 move, 


still 


W. С. FIELDS WATCH! | wie: cunning deep. In some tights its 
Р, brown surlace glistens as if had been 

Р greased, and you must work to draw 

ANY MAN from the Mood the sense of its force. The 


WHO HATES” 


wide channel, wide enough far: 
Queens, helps: No river should be so 


hig. The shuddering of the boat as it 
works upstream, a shuddering as if it 
were grinding over granite shoals, helps 


too, for you have seen the huge cylinders 
and the massive arms that work the pad- 
dle, Debris floats by, logs and. branches 
that might have been torn from a eru 
uk im Montana or in Illinois. 
d channel, this brown water. is 
ona of a continent, the very rush 


ио 
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таме 

ADDRESS. 
[ene 


STATE EM 
ERR GUARANTEE! — ——- 


of continental blood, silt like cells and 
water like plasma, and if sickness is in 
it, then sickness is in us all. 

You think of the dams along the 
upper tributaries that have drowned 
valleys where once cattle grazed and 
graveyards filled through five generations 
Half the dams in America have been 
built with Mississippi food con 
their justification, and here you 
floating on the Mississippi in flood 


The 
willows on the banks and on the tow- 


heads, aves flash as they 
tun haven't dic look of 
trees, haven't the patience and the root- 
edness of trees. They are fr 
fact. the Mississippi's 
you remember that once 
park you saw the kind of trees 
Mississippi grows when it is give 
chance. a basket oak 20 fect around 


g silve: 


le as grass. 


ass, and 
Missouri 
the 
the 
id 


are, 


б feet tall, a bald cypress 2? feet 
pune. its height unmeasured, a sweet 
gum 17 feet around and 112 fect tall 


"Those were champion trees and the Mis- 
sissippi watered them, bubbling by them 


in slow time like а brook. 

And watching the water as the sun 
sets and it dukens to black. following it 
with your eyes to the and their 


le willows, you realize why Ше river 
evoked such desperate loyalty in 
ма women who have worked it 
over the centuries: because when you arc 
on the river, it widens out wider than the 
nd until it seems to fill all the space 
below the sky. It is like the sca, this 
river, but the sea outside its ocean rivers 
has no direction. Sea winds will carry you 
where you want to go, but no man can 
weld his Huids to the wind. On the 
Mississippi the water itsell carries you 
away, swiftly, in the direction of your 
destiny; and if that destiny proves false, 
as it has for most men, then you beat 
upriver again with the certaimy that 
you are overcoming the most powerful 
force the land can drive against you. And 
either way. you win. 


who bridged the Mississippi at St. Lo 
in 1871 with a bridge the Co 
could not be built, the en 
opened up the river's passes below 

Orleans so that ocean-going ships mig! 
from the sea, walked as 
man on the bottom of the Mississippi un 
der a diving bell of 


is own Construction, 


walked on the bottom of that rushing 
river some 200 times He heard the 
gravel, gravel big as cannonballs, how 

ing off the bottom and arcing up and 


10 bounce He 
ight of the river 
made of, learned. to control 


well enough that his bridge still stands 


and his passes are still open, but he 
must have locked the river away in the 
cellar of his mind. toc known 


the sleep of childhood . You come 
back to earth. and feel i 


do afterward will ever measure up, one 


of the astronauts is reported to have 


said. That is how Eads must have felt. 
To walk on the bottom of the Missis- 
sippi is to have been buried under the 


waters of half continent, baptism wor- 
thy of a Christ. Merely to work upriver 
on a boat is to know something of chat 
experience, to feel something of that 
dread, or else why, in the middle of the 
night, when the pilot of the Del 
en abruptly cut the engines and the 
thythm of the paddle dropped to a 
Tuncreal meter half an octave below, did 
а crowd of passengers appear on deck 
their night clothes appichensively starte 
out of sound slc 

Ihe pilots know. They 


p? 


we pushed 


through the wall. Bi up the river 
through the long day, the view is plain, 
water and trees, the boat shifting west- 
ward or eastward to avoid the channel, 


the water flowing on. Enlarge the Vicks- 
burg models to full scale and in theory 
you control the river itself. But up in 
the pilothouse of the Delta Queen, Cap- 
tain Howard Tate, the hired pilot, 
years on the river and not, he says, 
enamored of it at all, is constantly at 
work at the two long ste ms that 
have replaced the big pilot wheel, ad- 
justing them thi d that, as if he 
were threading ап invisible maze. He 
points to a line of water—that's a jetty 
10 a bulge of water—that's а she 
threads behind an island to take advan- 
tage of its lee, all but brushes the wees 
on one h stays clear from shore on 
nother. The water is alive with obsta- 
des and including the works 
of the Corps. Tate is a pilot and knows 
them all, runs the boat through the 
night, in shifts with other pilots, as 
surely as he runs it through the d. 
‘Twain said all there is to say about the 
skill of Missi: 
only add thi 
river, do 
but 1 must also add, by way of drawing 
а time line for us all, that there ү 
five of them left under 50 ye 
One of the: 
the Delta Queen this sailing and was 
horn on houseboat 


their extr 


one of 
the chosen, modestly, He ought 10: He is. 

" wrote the Trappist monk 
Thomas Merton, 20 men 

in the world now who scc th 
Шу are. . . „ I don't believe that 
are 20 such men alive in the 


20 


world. But there must be one or two. 


nes who are hol 
r and keeping the 
каре” 


They we the 
everything togeth 
universe hom fall 


Of time and the river, William Carlos 
ist be realized that men 
rc driven to their fates by the quality 
of their beliels." Long ago, at the turn- 
ing of the Civil War or perhaps before, 
we chose money and its tedinology as 
the mode of beliet with which we would 


“Oh, come, all ye faithful!” 


deal with the continent we intended to 
dominate, at whatever cost to our live: 
Our fate today—pollution and decay—is 
fate we were driven to by that 
e of abstraction over asso- 
cation, of the mechanical over the liv- 
Vicksburg's siege. 1f the riv 


mes, on the 
ur civilization 


two; 
I the works of 
seem to fall away behind the screen of 
trees, leaving a space of room on a 
al boat to assess those works for 
they are. 

They are ways we have attempted to 
cope with a world that overwhelmed us, 
but coping is no longer enough. nor 
could it be. The 1th Century did not 
know it was merely coping. It thought it 


had the world in hand. Our fate, our 
the 


threatening fate, has been to suffer 
working out of that arrogance. 

But the quality of our bel 
ing, and today. two by two. w 
the carnival boat for other destin 
One of the great historical shifts in 
sensibility is under way: It is what we 
will be remembered for, not our tech- 
nology and our wars. The ecology move- 
ment is part of it, a vital part. That 
movement, preoccupied with deadlines, 
has not yet had time to study its sources, 
has not yet looked much beyond roman- 
tic natn ts such as John Mui ad 


Henry David Thoreau and Aldo Leo- 
pold. Eventually it will locate those 
Sources among old gods, in religions 


older than Christianity that логй 
the incredible and benevolent comple 
ty of the natural world. Humility is the 
quality of belief our sensibilities today 
are seeking, the spirit that puts human 


worth before technological progress, love 
before manipul local and т 

ed before the universal and borrowed. 
And most of all, reverence for lile—rev- 
nce for life before pride of don 
tion. Wars cll us home: We 
fought na 
no more 


have 
г 500 years, but she has 


ielded t0 our сеа 
Cannot be forced to yield, 
kl is hers, the weapons 
and the combatants themselves subject 
to her laws. Clemens marked the visio 
at ihe end of A Connecticut Yankee. He 
choked his Yankee on the poisoned 
of the battlefield where lay the dead of 
the industrial ci n he had created 
to bring utopia to a world that has never 
needed utopia, the Garden being al- 
ready at hand. 


гон; 


Amid the century's carnage it ha 
sometimes seemed too late. It must have 
seemed too late to men of the Middle 


Ages, when a third of Europe died of 

plague. It was not too late then: The 

hit of the Ri 

It is not too late now 

Mississippi River first 
iin 


rissince broke throw 
The rivers, the 
mong them, re 
tw re like 

they have the courage 10 change, 
can move on from old graves a 
rust of old arrogance, rivers run through 
roots, down to the restoring, sea 


nd 


us 


Tm wukin’ my way back home, 

Im wukin’ my way back home, 

Im wukin’ my way back home, Baby, 
Tm wukin’ my way back home. 
Timber don't git 100 heavy fo’ me, 
An’ sacks too heavy lo stack, 

All that 1 crave о" many a long day, 
Ts yo" lovin’ when 1 git back 


301 


PLAYEOY 


302 


З 
head of the famil „со 


ns when 


seule important Mafia. questi 


they're not тшш ‘ound sticking 
knives h others backs. To cele- 
brate his ascension to the throne. he 


attended an opening night at the Copa. 


hole of the mafiosi. 


business on the premises, for 
business could threaten the liquor 
license: € is wives’ night 
the Сора, leave your g 
That night Framuni was celebr 
the debut of a young singer of Italian 
descent. (de y uet 1 
The singer was "managed 
Mob captain named Sonny 
who was the mafioso of the ent 
industry: he had mused into 
several record companies, owned а big 
slice of the jukebox. made and was be 
ginning to move in on several artists. 
Franzese, the singer he owned and a 
half-dozen high-ranki fin men fom 
several families, with women obviously 
not their wives, were sitting at the table 


of honor near the stage. Don Carmine 
Tramunti сше several of his 
troops and was escorted to the tabl 


other Mafia. Pooh-Bahs 
immediately leaped to their fece trip- 
ping over themselves to offer Tramunti 
a seat next to the most stunning woman 


Franzese and the 


in the crowd. They bowed and fawned 
like a pack of headwaiters. Franzese 
kissed the don on his left cheek. Some of 
the others tried the same slobbering 
greeting but were waved away by Ti 
mumi. They finally managed 10 demon- 
strate their reverence by bowing over 
his hand as they shook it and practically 
g his ring. 

They never seem to learn that the 
guys on the other side of the cops-and- 
Mafia game —FBl men, narcotics agents, 
local fnzz—stay in business because of 
such public displays. If the dons didn't 
demand the ass kissing, the cops would 
never know who was the boss of a fami: 
ly and who was the chauffeur. One FBI 
man says he ha curring nighin 
The dons are wising up and orde 
their chauffeurs 10 act like Godfath 
while the real family h 


watchers are jumping out of w 
because they cant figure our how 
like n ic Bath Be 
denly made it 10 the top. But the FBI 
man knows his nightm: t ever 
be 


ome reality; those displays of macho 
© needed by the dons to prove to 
themselves how important they are and 
10 keep their families ac least as civilized 
аза pack of baboons. 

The ape I vite 


© all part of 


“Would it be too bold of me to ask him 
Jor his phone number?” 


the game. And although Tramunt 
sists on the reverence, he doesn't alw: 
behave the way a don is expected to. 
According 10 Mafia mythology—a vague 
mystique that helps control the. men 
in the ranks—the Godfather’s office must 
be respected, just as the President's of- 
fice endows its inhabitant with a re- 
spect he may not have been able to 
command as an ordinary politician. Of 
course, the tradition that requires auto- 
matic respect of the office also demands 
that the officcholder behave within the 
bounds of that tradition. The Godfather 
must be just what the name implies: a 
arrogate father, filling both the physical 
amd the psychic needs of the son. He 
must be a man of wisdom and tact; a 
Solomon, setiling disputes among his 
subjects, establishing detentes with other 
dons so there is no conflict over ter- 


itorial rights and. hopefully. no bul- 
let in the head fr Perhaps 
most important, the don must never 


displ: 


у emotion, never Пу off the h 
dle, nevi 


show what he is thinking or 
feeling. Consipated. in other words. 
That's it: Marlon Brando looked like a 
man suffering from constipation 
Understand. the Mafia is both myth 
and reality. There surely is а Mafia. It's 
an amalgam of 6000 or 7000 hoods work- 
ing in some 28 Е 
nice piece of all the illicit rackets in the 
jor industrial centers of the country. 
‘They own legitimate businesses acquired 
through muscle or bought with dollars 
ned in more sleazy rackets They 
have corrupted qx as and police 
forces. But the Mafia is by no means the 
farflung invisible government (as the 
autch-phrase artists like to call it) that is 
lc step away from taking over our 


The myth works because the people 
i Tino DeAngelis, the soybean- 
ler. admits he was able to con 
n American Express subsidiary out of 
more than S87.000.000 by implying that 
fortune in Mafia cash was behind him. 
he myth also works because the men of 
the Mafia believe their own press clip- 
pings Cops and writers romanticize 
bums, usually without meaning to, and 
the bums strut around like heroes out of 
a romantic film, [tis all badly imitat- 
ed American folklore (and if there's one 
thing dear about it is that 
the present org made up of 
men who were born or raised on the 
sueets of America's urban centers). Billy 
the Kid, Bonnie and Clyde, and so on— 
popular heroes destroyed by a perverse 
system that wouldn't give them a 
chance. It’s a load of crap. The heroes 
were actually psychotic little bastards 
who usually gunned down their victims 
ad an or- 
а men are cut 
Most of them 
ten dropouts 
1 or write. The myth 


from the same drab dot 
are beetle-browed kind 
who can hardly re: 


becomes reality and the surrogate father 
is cloaked in the robes of the Mafia 
Church because the soldiers are superst 
tious dolts and psychopaths who need 
а mythicalreligious crürch t0 disguise 
their own inadequacies. You have to be 
preity stupid to fall for the whole God- 
father routine: taking to the mattress 
(а typical seent-jock ritual). с 
ing 50 or 100 bucks a week while the 
don silts away millions, putting your lile 
and soul in the hands of a. father who 


doesn't promise much reward but does 
swear instant and lethal punishment 
should vou sim. The hoods take all of 


and everybody is im- 


rc mem 


that, and more, 
pressed with the fact that they 
hers of the established outlaw re 
Tramunti's siciliano d 
disturbs other mafiosi. 
nd other mem. 

igion is that 


Irs nor only 
ing tha 

What bothers Frankie 
bers of thi 
Don Tramun 


Майа bishop: quiet, reserved 
utter secretiveness 
never a display of emotion 


scem to know, nor care, that 
respect never lets the outside world know 
what is going on in his mind. 

Tramunt permitted his mask to slip 
in an inexcusable Lashion on 
during the 1971 trial. (He beat the rap. 
ol his soldati were conviaed.) 
the lunch recess, a Securities and 
Exchange Commission agent tried 10 
Tramunti a subpoena. The don 
gan to berate the SEC agent and ap- 
peared ready ro throw punches. Assistant 
United States Attorney John Wing. who 
was prosecuting the case, interceded 


alterno: 


Take it easy.” he told Tramunti. 
~The agent is oniy doing his job.” 

їшї tuned to Wing 
croaked, "Mr. you м 
much 

Wing, who hadn't had much experi- 
en i Mafia code language, simply 
мел, гу The SEC ис, nore 
savvy in the ways of the myth, later told 
Wing: "You've just been threatened. 


When а don siys you smile too much, 
s you're going to lose your teeth 
so youll never feel like smiling again 
At the very least, your teeth have been 
threatened, smiled at the foolish. 
ess of it all 

The next morning, belore the day's 
Viamunti walked over to 
Чоло W 
1 did 


session bi 


the prosecutor's table а 
"Forget what 1 siid yesterday. 
iu” 1 


mean anything I amunti’s tone 
made it clear that а threat had actually 
been made. 

Don Vito Corleone never would have 


committed such а sacrilege. Nor would 
the real-life dons on whom Corlcone's 
character was based: Profaci, Genovese 


x! Tommy Lucchese, Tramunti's prede- 
None of them would ever breach 
fi Tramun: 
S to possess an 


cessor 


the docs 


in. He se 


almost childish need for instant revenge 
when he is wronged. and his notion 
of à wiong sometimes approaches sheer 
chiklishness. 

On one occasion. 
siding at a business 
Mafia hoods in а midtown Manhattan 
bar. A round of drinks was ordered. The 
waiter neglected to put а coaster under 
the don's drink and his jacket sleeve 


munti was pre- 
ting, of several 


sopped up some moisture from the t 
ble. When Framunti felt it. he shouted. 
“Waiter! Come here!" The waiter 
hustled over as commanded, Without a 


word. Tramunti belted him. knocking 
n to the Moor, and began kicking him. 
The don's stunned associates pulled him 
olf the : poor guy. 
mal. not à don,” exclaims 
ke, one night he was in 
at owned by one of 
the important Mob guys. He was having 
drink with a guy who owed him some 
money. The guy said he couldn't pay 
him. Gribbs didn’t say much, just fi 
ished his drink and left. He went right 
downtown to an East Side joint he 
owns, and right out in the middle of the 
place. in front of everybody. he told two 
of the enforcers he always keeps hang 
ing around for emergencies to до beat 
up the guy who owed him, I mean, а 
don's supposed то tell his underboss to 
handle it, and the underboss passes it on 
10 the soldiers. But not Tramunti. Any 
wav. the muscle men hopped up there, 
right into the restaurant owned by а 
friend, a Mafia guy. And they just beat 
the shit out of the dead beat They did 
such а great job on him they damaged 
the place and brought the cops Which 
caused the owner а lot of trouble, a lot 
of heat. Everybody was pissed at Gribbs, 
because you don't ever bring trouble to 
а Friend like i You gotta have some 
body messed up. do it in an alley. Not 
in a friend's place.” 

Most despots rule thro 
gling of fear and a respect for the robes 
of office, and it is no dill in the 
Mafia. In the majority of Mob families 
there is an intangible. mythical respect 
for the don as a protector, a patronage 


һ а commin- 


dispenser. а man with the experience, 
wisdom and authority to keep his family 
operating smoothly. If he functions well 
in those roles, respect is usually auto- 
matic: fe secondary. Ви in Don 
Tramunti’s family, the fear is over 


whehning. You never know when this 
family head is going to explode. It can 
take а number of forms: а crack. across 
the mouth, the withdrawal of protection 
or Discussing the 


Lucchese, 


sum 


y execu 
difference between his old don, 


and his new. Tramunti. one mafioso 
told a Federal agent, “I loved Lucchese 
like a father. 1 respected him all the 
way. Gribbs Fm just seared to my bones 


of him. 
lt may be that Tramunti has little 


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respect because men of the Mafia have 
been seduced by the stylish cultu 
heroes described by Puzo, Gay Talese, 
newspapers and films. But I don't think 
so. not as far as Tramunti is concerned 
Back in 1968, the year before Puzo's 
book was published and primed a flood 
of Mafia documents, the year that Tra 
munti was inducted ting head of 
his family, I wrote one of my annual 
series of Маа articles for a New York 
newspaper. Because he was a new face 
jı the ranks of power, I bird-do 
Gribbs for a while. And all my sources 
back then pictured him as a man who 
lacked respect and ruled by fear. That 
was almost five years ago, before Puzo 
and it was dear that the mafiosi wer 
seeking n with the character. of 
Don Corleone to lead them: whieh, 
dentally, is one demonstration of the 
accuracy of Рио perceptions, And it 
ar, with a lew exceptions, 
at the men of the Майа felt an enor- 
mous amount of respeet for their dons, a 
respect that overshadowed the fear. 

But Tiamunti is not completely alone 
in what can only be described as his 
punkisl Albert Anastasia comes im 
mediately to mind as a parallel. Head of 
Murder, Inc, ruler of the Brooklyn 
waterfront, undoubtedly psychotic, he 
once had one of his soldat st 
because the unfortunate guy made the 
mistake of squeezing the thigh of a 
woman Albert wanted but hadırı gotten 
jund о puni he on. While 
watching a TV interview with Brooklyn 
salesman. Arnold Schuster, who lı 
come one ol the arily | 
because he had recognized bank robber 
Willie Sutton and had called the polic 
Anastasia went into a rage about "squi 
es” and ordered Schuster murdered. 

It is possible, of course, that Tramun- 


ns а 


less. 


ihe m 


This is, айе 


all, a changing world, 

age is coming even to that antiqu 
nization called the Mafia. Young up- 
starts like Crazy Joey Gallo refuse w 
play by the rules anymore. Some tei 
years ago, Gallo and his small 
loyal followers within the Profa 
decided for 
from old Joe Profaci. TI 
ped Profaci’s brother, his brother 
wo and several other high-rank 
abers of the family, Gallo sent word 
ola that he would kill the prison- 


10 dem 


ISE 


vow 


10 improve the lot of the soldiers. 
cî agreed to discuss Gallos com- 
ide the die 
ag his prisoners 
2 slaughtered in 
the ensuing war, Jocy survived only be- 
cause he was hustled off to prison on an 
extortion charge. 

Ifa don isn't cueful, a Gallo in the 
Profaci family could inspire a Gallo in 
the Tramui ly So you tero 


your troops so badly that they won't have 
the guts 10 even consider a revolution. 
Tacir 


Besides, Tramunti 
serious danger. A 
Brooklyn, Don 
to become the capo di tutti i capi. Gam- 
ino heads the largest family in the 
country, about 700 members, compared 


with Tramunti’s roster of fewer than 
100, and he is pushing for the big 
crown. According to those who keep up 


with Mob gossip. Gambino promised 
Gallo, on his parole [rom prison early in 
1971, big rewards if he would remove 
Joe Colombo. the head oí the okl Pro- 
faci family in which Gallo had be 
unhappy. A couple of Gallo men did so. 
not quite killing Colombo but destroy 
g his b nd leaving him 


n 
lyzed shell. Gambino became caretake 


para 
of 
the Colombo family and rewarded Galle 
by having him executed in a restaurant 
in Liule Italy. Add one family to Gam 
"s sphere of influence and subtract 
one irritating revolution Then, say 
the boys in the Mob, С o ordered 
the killing of Themas (Tommy Ryan) 
Eboli, who had taken over the Genovese 
family after the death of the old boss 


and who objected to the sudden growth 
in Gambinos svength. Exit Tommy 
Ryan. last July. With those two dons 


out ol the way, Gambino controls three 
ol the five New York families. The 


fourth, the old o family, has 
shrank from internal stresses and many 
of its uienmbeis have Mocked under С 
bino's umbrella. 

And that leaves Tramunti, Whethe 


hes formed an alliance w 
Which would be tantamount to surrender, 
or remained aloof and is hoping the old 
man will die of the heart disease that 
plagues him, Tramumi needs as much 
loyalty as he cm get out of his troops. 
To him, loyalty comes only from fear 
and the elimination of anyone who might 
be a threat to his leadership. 


h Gambino, 


The police have пос officially con- 
nected Tramunti to the murder of Jimmy 
Doyle, a caporegime in the family, and 
it isn't likely they ever will. Doyle, 
whose real name was James Plumeri, 
was а саро when Lucchese inherited the 
family in the mid-Thirties. He was 
ready wealthy and powerful from his 
gambling interests and his control of 
unions whose leaders were paid well not 
to st ad that time, Tramm 
young street punk. was taken into the 
imily strong arm. man, head-buster 
and, it is still whispered around ihe 
streets of East Harlem, а man who € 
pitched the family’s enemies with т; 


c. Атон 


skill. By the time Lucchese died of c 
cer in 1967, Tramunti had also become 
а capo and was one of Doyle's rivals for 


is one of 
better 


wealth, power and respect, wa 
| men clearly 


ad a 


who 


chance than Trammi of becoming, the 
don. Unfortunately for Doyle, the Feds 
caught up with him and he was impris 
опей on tax-evasion charges around the 
time Lucchese died. Doyle was out of 
circulation during the infightin 
Lucchese's succession and. was helpless 
Tramunti, assisted by outside influences, 
knocked all the other rivals out of the 
running, nu 


over 


T 
family head by the time Doyle теш 


i had become actin 
ned 
his 


to the streets. With the 
hands, he began a war 
helped turn Doyle into an alcoholic. 

For example, Doyle had been barred 
from a favored Mob cating place 
Manhattan beciuse of his nasty habit of 
spitting noisily on the foor. Tramunti 
began cating there practically every day 
making it clear that Doyle һай been 
weak enough 10 be pushed around but 
that he, Tramımti, was more manly 
than chat. Also, Doyle had a piece of 
one of the crap games in the city, worth 
a few thousind а week in profits. When 
the heat was put on the game, Tra 
mumi ordered it closed down. Alter the 
police problem had been tiken care ol 
md the game opened again, Tramım 
owned it all, He let everyone know it 
and Doyle suffered a further loss of face. 

Doyle began drinking more than is 
proper for a Майа gentleman, "The 
word went around that be couldn't be 
trusted, that he was getting like Willie 
Moreni, who was assissinated back in 
the Filties because he drank madh 
d shot off his mouth at the wrong 
mes. A caporegime who talks 100 much 
is a threat to everyone in the family. In 
1970, Doyle was charged with extortion. 
copped a plea and received a suspended 
sentence, because, said the judge, he had 


veins in 


heart wouble. Judges don't usually be- 
lieve Mafia heart ailments. There was 


more wl 
informer 


ispcı now: Was Doyle an 


A drunken Пар mouth? 


On a rainy Friday morning in $ 
tember 1971. Doyles body was discov 
стей in an industrial park in Queens, 


some hall-dore 
little bungalow. 


miles from 1 m 
He had been strangled 


with his silk necktie. No member of the 
family turned out for his funeral 
When Tramunti completes his business 


in East Harlem, he climbs back into his 
Cadillac. This time he is joined by sev- 
eral other me Big Sam. 
sometimes one or two of his caporegi- 
mi. There is a bodyguard at the wheel 
and another strong-arm type in the front. 
pasenger scat; both have been standi 

the street 10 guard agai 
nunti 


sometimes 


T requires the retinui 
he is heading for the 
where his more import 
v located. One of them 
league financially but is absolutely essen 
because it provides Tramunti with a 
source of legal income, Is called 


^E 


Classic, a coat-manufacturing business 
at 263 West 38th Street. Tramunti and 
two nephews are eich onethird partners 
in the place. During his trial in 1971. 
amunti testified that he made $20,000 
year as both boss and lowly employee: 
“I sort out coats according to size and 
put stamps on them little round tags 
made out of heavy composition pape 
Federal agents sit п the courtroom 
were barely able to suppress their giggles 
Tramunti stops ol at Eiffel briefly 
once а most of the 
ime he simply goes straight to one of 
the restaurants that dot the garment 
ama. He uses several of them as his 
conference rooms, moving around to 
confuse agents and, perhaps, plotters. 
Management and waiters, respecting Tra- 
munti's need for privacy. give him a 
comer table in the back and keep other 
customers out of the area, He is a good 
tipper and it is said he is a hidden 
owner of many of these places. You 
can't really be certain of that, because 
man with the don's police record is 
legally barred from owning any place 
th a beer ог liquor license, But in- 
formers can name the dozens of bars. 
dubs and restaurants in the city that 
Tramunti secretly owns. A Tramunti 
associate, Tommy Balls") Mancuso, 
is a major loan shark, they'll tell у 
His job is to lend the don’s money 
needy applicants who са 
credit from the customary 
sources, usually because they 
gamblers. If the borrower cai 


PLAYBOY 


twice a week, bu 


"D repay 
the interest rate ol four to six percent a 
week. Tea Balls simply moves in to pro- 
tect his don's invesunent. Eventually, the 
original owner is out on the street. The 
don picks up a great number of bu 
nesses that way. In the liquor bu 
because neither Tramunti nor Ti 
сап appear as owners of record, a Tra- 
munti associate named Jack L. is the 
oficial owner. It's all rather well known, 
but nothing much ever happen 

Loan-sharking 1 part of the 
city’s economy. Thousands of people 
borrow from loan sharks every year and 
pay back, never losing their businesses 
nor having their heads broken for failing 
to repay. To а businessman, the choice is 
between going out of business and bor- 
rowing from a loan sl I а loan 
shark's money helps bim survive, the 
businessman considers himself lucky. 
One wealthy garment-center figure told 
me, “Five years ago my business was dead 
and I was practically broke. I borrowed 
30 thou from Tea Balls and уште 
came together. Without him I'd ne 
have 50 guys working for me. I'd be on 
welfare.” 

The beauty of loan-sharking, to the 
don, is that it is all so casy. In gambling 
there is a need for expertise, for an 
office, for am organization with 

зов dozens of employees and for conta 


with other gamblers who handle layoff 


bets, АП it takes to be a loan shark is a 
good starting bank roll. There is plenty 


of Mafia money around. The top-level 
Mob. bosses are said to have millions of 
dollars "on the streets” as loans. The 
money is given to trusted lieutenants, 
who pay one percent a week interest 
vigoris. or vig. the loan sharks and the 
borrowers call it. The licutenants are 
Joan sharks loan sharks—they lend the 
money to the sharks who act 
the loans 
three percent week. The ult 
mite Customer pays around five percent 

week, 260 percent а у 


As he holds court in the garment 
center, Tramunti gets reports about his 
loanshark investments, collects some 


money, disburses some, discusse 
range of business problems with 
sortment of grull Mafia men and, occa 
sionally, а le essman, He 
nterests in the garment 
ber of his capos 
ЖП Sabes ind exerts coal e EE 
mentcenter union у 
uaordinarily vital trucking indus; а 
manufacturer threatened with a freeze 
out of delivery trucks will be amenable 
to any offer of assistance. 
munti was born October 1, 1910, 
in Naples, the son of a laborer, His 
ents emigrated to the States when he 
vas seven or eight. senling in the East 
community. It way dur- 
s there, some half century 
munti acquired his nick- 
Сї. It happened in a street 
fight, when another boy was giving him 
a bad beating, smashing him in the 
stomach and ribs, Tramumti shrieked 
in heavily accented English, "My gribs, 
you're hurting my gribs!” The name 
stuck, 

His first recorded brush with the law 
came а rough-and- 
tumble kid who preferred hustling a few 
bucks on the sucets to a formal educe 
чоп. He was picked up for truancy 
and sentenced to а short spell in a 
reform school. At 16 he was charged as a 
* delinquent—some little differ 
ence with a shopkeeper who objected to 
3 s attempt to shake him down 
ad style—and spent a little 
more time in the reformatory. Ву hi 
Tate teens, he was performing minor 
chores for neighborhood mafiosi, and 
during the late Twenties and carly Thir- 
ties was arrested a half-dozen times on 
charges of robbery and assault, the head- 
busting violence all potential Mob mem- 
bers are assigned as tests. Most of the 
charges were dismissed, but in 1939 
Tramunti was given а 15-year term for 
assault with a deadly weapon. 

By then the old-style Mafia of the 
Mustache Petes had been purged in a 
blood bath engineered by Lucky Luci- 


in the ex- 


Black Н; 


and а new Майа was cre: 
bones. The East Harlem family, 
powerful one, was taken over by Luc 
chese. Among the soldiers of that family 
was a young kid named John Dioguar 
Known as Johnny Dio, he was a me 
ber of Майа royalty because his uncli 
Jimmy Doyle, was a capo under Luc 
= Tramunti had known Dio casual 
Tramunii's jail term was a stroke of 
ee for Dio was locked up in the same 
prison. They became close friends. “Look 
me up when you get out.” Dio told him. 
^I got something for you 
Tramunti was released on probation 
in 1037 and contacted Dio. ‘The some 
thing Dio had promised was induction 
into the Maha. It's called being “n 
in Mafia Some informants, 
such as Joe Valachi, have said that being 
made involved taking a blood oath, 
actually cutti 
your blood with the don тет 
room lit only by а candle. There's по 


way of knowing whether or not Tia- 
munti was put through that mystical sort 
of jazz, but informer Valachi was in- 


ducted at about the same time and into 
the same family, so its possible. As i 
newly made soldier, Tramunti quickly 
learned that he was expected to subordi 

ме his own criminal activities to the 
needs of the саро and the don, that he 


had to be prepared to go through end- 
less sullering to achieve, improbably, a 


big prize at the end of it all—nor entry 
to heaven, as in other religions, but 
the title of don. 

‘Tramunti became Dio's chaulleur, a 
rather lowly position in the family if 
not for the fact that Dio was close to the 
throne. Tramunti was a superb wheel- 
а real hot-rodder,” a friend recalls. 
half-dozen years, after а few 
more short stretches in the penitentiary 
and, presumably, some very skillful work 
Tor his fam munti was tapped by 
Don Lucchese to be his chauffeur. I's 
the kind of appointment ly sought 
by young mafiosi. In the Mob, a don's 
chaulleur is often the second most im- 
portant man in the organization. He is 
the bodyguard, and the boss's salety de- 
pends on his chauffeurs cu 
chaulleur acts as a buffer, keep 
lowly Mob soldiers from disturbing the 
boss and insulating him from any direct 
criminal acts that could Ileal to legal 
arrassments, He is with the boss a 
great deal of the time and is privy to 


some of the don’s most well-guarded 
secrets, 
It is still difficult to understand why 


Lucchese, a quiet man, gentle and 
friendly on the surface, able to pass for 
many years as a legitimate garment 
anufacturer and а churchgocr, 
Tramunti to drive him around: 
maniac behind the wheel,” 
aber of the family has said 

Obviously, Tramunti’s ability as а 


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308 


buffer was more 
flashy driving. 
fond of hi 
and pieces 
businesses 
Tramun 
his own 
саро 


important than 
Lucchese seemed very 
ing him more authority 
of a growing number of 
and пасек over the years. 
up a large bank roll of 
iier he was appointed. а 
awe Forties, army of 
the family. He а 

able contacts with dons 


built 


up 
aaow the nation. Because Lucchese 
trusted him completely, he occ 


appoimed Tramumi 10 repre 
family at important meetings of the N 
fia board of directors, the commission. 

Tramumi leaned а great deal as 
Lucehese’s chaulleur and later as 


who reported. directly to the doi 
doubtedly the most valuable insight 
Lucchese gave him was the need for 


political power. Lucchese was a 
who named judges and a ma 
Today. Tramunti is known to "control" 
es, political leaders of both 
couple of siue assembly- 


man 
ж or Iwo. 


Lucchese died, Tramunti was 
unassailable position. His chief 
I happened to be out of the 


When 


in an 


gat the sa Doyle was 
па later becime an alcoholic. 
ко in prison and faced charges 
al other cases the moment he 


4. Antonio (Tony 
who seems to have 
n to the throne, 
ied. after his iudicunen it 
jor political scandals of 
administration—the 

y's 

Marcus, to 
companies С (One side 
light on Т machinations 
his fight to become head of the family 
In order to diminish Corallo's respect in 


Ducks) 
ad the 
was elim 
one of uic 
John Lind 
bribing of 
James 


waitress 
с. Goral- 
indict- 
c East 
Side night spots favored by the Майа 
Tramunti escorted Corallo's 
chick everywhere the Mob gathered. It. 
liveci slap in Corallo's Lice.) 


was 


munis business day in 


staurants has been com- 


pleted. he makes the rounds of the bet 
ter the midtown 
ca. then the East $ Accompit 


nied by his retinui 
tapos and oceasionally by Big $ 
journeys from. restaurant i 
like some feudal king bc 
age on his people, cating 
three full meals in one 


of bodyguards and 
he 


ом! 
as n 


like two pigs" one undercover apent 
assigned to keep tabs on Tramunti says, 
suppressing a beldi. In cach restaurant, 


obsequious waiters and chefs prepare 
special gourmet delights for the Mafia 
gourmand, begging him to try a new 


las been 
pleasure. Th 
“Why should I 
uy their dish.” 


ed specifically for his 
Idom pays the bill. 
2 They invited me to 
But he never forgets to 


tip the waiters lavishly, usually 519 ox 
S20 each. Some of the restaurant owne 
furious when Tı i 


grow 
nd мий» himself. 
place and they hide in their offices and 
lock their anger inside with them. Other 
mn. b 


"owner" don't give a di use 
Tramumii is a hidden partner. “The pig 
is cating up his own profits.” one ol 


th 


m was ance heard to say 
Between meals, Tramunti makes the 
t rhe East Side clubs. favoring а 


hall-dozen spots where middle-aged М; 
lords are always able to m: contact 
with the hundreds of women in town 


who find a sinister glamor in the ma- 
роі. Among T vorite water 
holes was the ny HL the place 
Joe Namath into so much diff- 
й the National Football League 
I the hoods who were con 
ing there. Usually, the don has a 
woman on his am, bleached-blonde 
besutyparlor type. draped in a mink, 
like something out of the Fifties. At one 
time he was dating two young waitresses 
who had recently emigrated from Ire- 
land and couldnt resist the 
spent more money о 
night than. th 
year. 


because. of 


ple of other guys in ound the Mob, 
plus а lot of fuzz Bur | mus meee 
Tramunu. Where the bell is he? A few 
ore trips to his home, but no a 
Knocks on neighbors’ doors get a 
rd respon He's probably at 
A hard-working man. Sorry, don't know 
anything about him.” Several calls to his 
lawyer: his lawyer is never in and doesn't 
call back. 

Well, time to take a chance. Get i 
cab. hop over to the East Side, vis 
clubs on my list of Tramunti hangouts. 
No sign of the don. | ask for h 
get blank looks, shrugs, 
like I was in Peking. t 
get up a ping pong game with Мао 
mally, pay dirt in a Second Avenue 
| dark-snited types who 
all resemble Gallo ог Dio—the tough- 
guy image came back strong after. The 
Godfather opened—and crawling with 
ppear to be very expensive 
except that. almost everyone 
way free an the East Side if you 


work, 


pub loaded w 


women who а 
hook 
gives it 


have the proper credentials. 
"Е 


I ask a 


is Gribbs been around? 
itress. ave to talk to him.” 

А blank look, of course. And into her 
next obvious step: She goes to chat with 
goon employed as bouncer. He 
stares at me, then trudges over 10 а 
white-haired gent near the cash register 
and whispers in his pointing my 


the 


way rather rudely. The old guy comes 


over. He doesn't sit down, just stands 
there with his belt buckle practically 
bumping against my nose and grunts in 


а heavily What you 
want in | 
"Im looking lor 
muni." I respond 
fever heard of him. What you want 
with Mr. Tramunti? 
A good question, How do you answer 
i? 1 want to join the Mafia? I'd like to 
avet in the Italian louery? Just as 
burd, АП I can do is level with the 
I fash an old police-department 
pros cud. Should have surrendered it 
before, when I left newspaper 
. but no one ever asked for it 
and 1 felt it would someday open doors, 
the kind that dose in your Face if you 
don't have something (o back you up. 
Rut not this night. | can see the doors 
close over his eyes. 
siornalista,” he says, with the kind 
of scorn only an old-country grandfather 
can pull off, "Get out of here,” he adds. 
“Scusa, signore," 1 respond, estab- 
lishing my Sicilian /southern Italian h 
itage with what I hope is the perfect 
accent. Usually, it works—we're paisans 
trying to survive in this с 
world and we have to > stick together 
Scusa, 1 have no q 
ave business with Mr. 
He smiles, tight 
ard Widmark does when he slaps 
broad the facc. Wid k is 
favorite of a lot of mafiosi. "New 
business." he s 
nost elaborate nveciive I've 
ever heard. Then: "Get out of here or 
ГИ call the boys. 


cented English: 


Gribbs, Mr. Tra- 


acus 


The boys? And the paranoia descends 
Would the boys use a gun, some ice 
picks from back in the old days or a silk 


1 get out, fast. Into a cab, down to 
fety of the Lion's Head in the 
Village, filled with journalists, poets and 
other characters who are as nutty as the 
men of the Mafia but a lot less dangerous, 

Right to the phone, to call a friend 
who wor one of those Liw-enlorce- 
ment offices that keep bulging files on 
Don Carmine Tramunti. “Hey, I can't 
find T anywhere. What's hap- 


pi 


w- 


ned io h 
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“He took a dile vacation with 
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There's so much heat in this town. with 
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PLAYBOY 


310 


WHO OR WHAT WAS IT? 


Telegraph this morning, the real Tele- 
nd 


graph. Look at this one, she said, 
see if it’s any different. Well, I did, 
it wasn't: same front page, same article 
the t 
grine 
leuers, same crossword, down to the last 
due. Well, that was a relief. 

Bur I didn't stay relieved, 
there was another coincidence 
up. It was a hot night ирим when 
all this happened—or did I mention 
that before? Anyway, it was, And Alling- 


because 


ton was out for the evening. On a hot 


ht in August, after Allington has 
come back from an evening out, the 
monster, The Green Ma ally takes 


shape and comes pounding up the road 
to tear young Amy Allington to pieces. 
That bit begins on page 225 in my 


book, if you're interested. 

The other nasty little consideration 
this: Unlike some novelists I could 
Linvent all my characters, except 
few minor ones here and there. 
t go in for just 


for a 
What I mean is, I don 
ming people I know and bunging 


re 
them into a book. But, of course, you 
can't help putting something of yourself 
into all your characters, even if it's only, 
well, a surly bus conductor who only 
comes in for half a page. 

Right, obviously, this comes up most 
of all with your heroes. Now, none of 
my heroes, not even old Lucky 
‚ but they can’t help having pretty 
chunks of me in them, some more 
п others. And Allington in thar book 
onc of the some. I'm more like him 
n Im like most of the others; in 
icular, I'm more like my Maurice 
Allington in my book than the real 
Allington, who, by the way, turned out 
to be called John, seemed (from what 
Td heard) to be like my Maurice All 
ton. Sorry to be long-winded, but I want 
to get that quite cle 


(continued from page 204) 


So: Lf, by some fantastic chance, The 
Green Man, the monster, was going to 
tun up here, he, or it, seemed morc 
likely to tun up tonight than most 
nights. And, furthermore, ] seemed sort 
of better cast for the part of the youn 
father, who manages in the book 
her from the monster, than this 
young girl's father did, You see that 

1 tried to explain all this to Jane. 
Evidently I got it across all righi, be- 
cause she said straightaway, We'd better 
stay here tonight, then. IE we can, I 
said, meaning if there was а room. Well, 
there was, and at the front of the house, 
nt, because 
that’s the side the monster 


too, which was impor 
book, 


of the blokes was taking 
our stuff out of the car and upstairs, I 
s Im not going to be 
bloody Tool in a ghost story who in 
on seeing things through alone, not 
can help i—I'm going to give Bob Con- 
quest a ring. Bob's an old chum of mine 
and about the only one I felt 1 could 
ask to come belting up all this way (he 
lives in Battersea) for such a ridiculous 
reason. It was just after ten by this time 
and The Green Man wasn't scheduled to 
put im an appe: 
Bob could make it all right. 


1 tried twice. 

Jane said. Ger hold of Monkey; ГЇЇ 
speak 10 him. Monkey, otherwise known 
аз Colin, is her brother; he lives with us 
a Barnet. Our numbe 
right, but I got m 
staying the weekend there. He said 
Monkey was out at a party, he didn't 
know where. So all I could do was the 
necessary but mot at all helpful job of 
saying we wouldn't be home till the 
next morning. So that was that, I mean, 
I just couldn't start getting hold of 
George Palmer and asking him to sit up 


answei 


“I just don’! make women the way I used to, Harry.” 


with us into the small hours in case 
ghost came along. Could any of you 
I should have said that Philip hasn't 
got a car. 

Well, we stayed in the bar until it 
dosed. I said to Jane at one point, You 
don't think I'm mad, do you? Or silly or 
aything? She siid, On the contrary, I 
think you're being extremely practical 
nd sensible, Well, thank God for that. 
Jane believes in ghosts, you see. My own 
position on that is exactly that of the 
man who said, I don't believe in ghosts, 
but I'm afraid of them. 

Which brings me to onc of the oddest 
things about this whole business. I'm a 
nervous type by nature, I never go in an 
plane, I won't drive a car (Jane does 
the driving), I don't even much care for 
being alone in the house. But, ever since 
we'd decided to stay the night at this 
place, all the uneasiness and, let's face 
it, the considerable fear I'd started to 
feel as soon as these coincidences started 
coming up, it all just fell away. I felt 
quite confident, E felt I knew I'd be able 
to do whatever might be required of ni 

There was one other thing to get 
settled. I said ro Jane, we were in the 
bedroom by this time, I said. If he turns 
up. what am I going 10 use ag; 


has dug up a sort of magic object that 
sort of controls The Green Man. I 
hadn't. Jane saw what I was driv 
She said she'd thought of that and took. 
oll and gave me the plain gold cross she 
wears round her neck, not for religious 
reasons, it was her grandmother's 
That fix him, I thought, and as De- 
Tore, I felt quite confident about it. 


Well, after that, we more or less sat 
and waited. At one point, a car drove 
up and stopped in the car park. A ma 


got out and went in the front door. It 
must have been Allington. I couldn't sce 
much about him except he had the 
mg color hair, but when I looked at 
my watch, it was cight minutes to mid- 
night, the exact time when the АШ 
in the book got back after his evening out 
the night he coped with the creature. One 
more bit of . . . call it confirmation. 

1 opened our bedroom door and lis 
tened. Soon I heard footsteps comi 
rs and going off toward the back 
of the house and then a door shutting, 
nd then straightaway the house seemed 
totally still. It can't have been much later 


jou never know. It's a 
night, I might as well go down 
now. She stid, Are you sure you 
want me to come with you? Absolutely 
sure, 1 said, I'll be fine. But I do want 
you to watch from the window here. OK, 
she said. She wished me luck and we 
clung to cach other for a bit, 
then off 1 went. 

I was glad Fd left plenty of timc. 


don't 


Р shows how great a girl сап look 


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Broomsticks, a product of Glen Oaks, 16E. 34th St, NYC. California Mart, 110 E. Sth St, Room 429, Los Angeles, Calif. 90015, 8707 Chancellor Row, Dallas, Texas 75247. 


PLAYBOY 


312 


because getting out of the place turned. 
out to be lar from straightforward. 
thing seemed to be locked and the key 
taken away, Eventually, I found а scul 
lery door h the key still in the lock. 
Outside, it was quite bright. with a 
full moon not far off, and a couple of 
fairly powerful lights at the corners of 
the house. It was a pretty lonely spot, 
n 


after 1 got out there, but it was the only 
one. There wasn't a breath of wind. 1 
aw Jane at our window and waved, and 
she waved back. 


The question was where to wait. If 
what was going to h suming 
something wasil it went like the book, 


then the young girl, the daughter 
going to come out of the howe bec: 
she'd thought she'd heard her father 
calling her (another bit of magic), aad 
then this Green Man creature was p. 
to, from one direction or t 
was going to come rumi 
couldn't decide which wa 
likely direction. 

A bit of luck, near the 
there was one of ı heavy wooden 
benches. І sat down on that and started 
keeping watch first one way, then the 
other. half a minute ata time. Normal 
ly, ten minutes of this would have driv 
en me olf my head with boredom, but 
that night, somehow it was all right 
‘Then, after quite a long time, 1 turned 
my head from right to left on schedule 
and there а girl, standing 
yards way; she must 


© other, he 
ng at her. | 
the 


more 


front door 


a few 


come round 
that side of the house. She was wearing 
light green. pajamas—wrong color а 
1 was going to speak 10 her, but there 
was something about t 
standing... .. 

She wasn't looking at m 
soon saw she wasn’t looking at 
much. I waved my hand in front of her 
eyes, you kno i 
when they think someone's been hypno- 
tized or something. 1 felt a perfect idiot 
but her eyes didn't move. Sleepwalki 
presumably; not in the book. Do people 
walk in their sleep? Apparently по, 
they only pretend to, according to what 
a psychianist chum told me afterward, 
but Т hadn't head that dien, All 1 
knew, or thought I knew, was this thing 
everybody's heard somewhere about its 
angerous to wake a sleepwalker. 
So 1 just stayed close to the girl and 
nt on kecpi ch, and a bit more 

те went by, and then, sure enough, 1 
heard, faintly but clearly, the sound I'd 
written about, the rustling, " 
sound of the movement of something 
made of tree branches, twigs and clusters 
of leaves. And there it was, about 100 
yards away, not really much like a man, 
coming up at а clumsy, jolting sort of jog 
rot on the grass verge, and acceleraiing. 


I knew what | had to do. 1 started 
g to meet it, with the cross ready 
in my hand. (The girl hadn't moved at 
all) When the thing was about 20 yards 


away, 1 saw its face, which had fungus 
on it, and I heard another sound I'd 


written about coming from what 1 sup: 
pose you'd have to call its mouth, like 
the howling of wind through trees 

I stopped and steadied myself 
threw the cross at it and it immediately 
vanished—immediately, That wasn't like 
the book, bur 1 didn’t stop to think 
about it. I didn't stop to look for the 
cross, either. When I turned back, the 
girl had gone. So much the better. I 
rushed back into the inn and up to the 
bedroom and knocked on the door—I'd 
told Jane to lock it alter me. 

There was a delay before she сате 
and opened it 1 could sce she looked 
conlused or something, but I didn't 


bother with that, because I could feel all 
nd confidence I'd had 


the calm ulicr, 
it was all just d way Irom me. 1 
sat her down on the bed and sat down 
myself on a ch nd just rattled ой 
what had happened as fast as 1 coud. I 
must have forgotten she'd been meant to 
be watch; 

By the time Id fi 


ished, I was shak- 


ing. So was Jane. She said, made 
you change your mind? "ge my 


mind? What about? Going out there, 
she said; getting up again and going 
out. But. I said. Гуе been ош there ail 
the time. Oh, no, you haven't, she said, 
you came back up here after about 20 
minutes, she said, and you told me the 
whole thing was silly and you were 
going to bed, which we both did. She 
scemed quite positive. 

I was absolutely shattered. But it all 
really happened, I said, jest the way 1 
told you. It couldn't have, she said; you 
must have dreamed it. You certainly 
didn't throw the cross at anything, she 
said, because it’s here, vou gave it back 


to me when you came back the first 
time. And there it was, on the cha 
round her neck. 

I broke down then. Fm not quite 
dear what I said or did. Jane got some 
steeping pills down me and I went oll in 


the end. I remember thinking rather 
wildly that somebody or other with a 
funny sense of humor had gor me into 
exacıly the same predicament, the sa 
mess, as the hero of my book had be 
secing something that must have been 
supernatural and just nor being b 
lieved, Because I knew I'd seen the whole 
thing; I knew it un 


I've seen young Miss Allington. Your 
description of her fits and, she said, she 
used to walk in her sleep. I asked her 


how she'd found out and she said she just 
had: she's good at that kind of thing. 
Anyway, I felt bener straightaway. T 


said it looked as if w iher of u 
been dreaming, even if what I'd seer 
couldn't be reconciled with what sh 
seen, and she agreed, After th 
ather dropped the subject in a funny 
sort of way. We decided not to look for 
the cross I'd thrown at The Green Man. 
1 said we wouldn't be able to find it. J 
didn't ask Jane whether she was think 
ing what I was thinking, that looking 
would be a маче of time because s 
was wearing it at that very moment. ГИ 
come back to that point in a minute 

We packed up, made a couple of 


we 


phone calls r ing our appoint- 
ments, paid ih. ll and drove olf. We 
still didn't talk about the main issue. 


But then, as we were coming off the 
Mill Hill roundabout that’s only about 
ten minutes from home, Jane said, Wha 
do you think happened?—happened to 
sort of make it all happe 

[Ж 
there to destroy tha 
means I was guided there at that t 


I think someone was needed 
Which 


€ 


e be 
that stuff. about Th | Man 
about Allington and the others. 

To make sure you recognized the 
place when you got there and knew 
what to do, she said. Who did all the 

iding and the sending. and so on? she 
мій. The same, the same chap who 
appeared in my book to tell Allington 
what he wanted done. Why couldn't he 
have fixed the monster himself? she said 
There are limitations to his power. 
There can't be many, she said. if he can 
make the same object be in two places at 
the same time 

Yes. you see, she'd thought of that, 


aud 


100. 105 supposed to be a physical im- 
possibility, isn't it? Anyway I said, 
probably the way he'd chosen had been 
more fun. More fun, Jane repeated. She 
looked very thoughtful 

As you'll have seen, there was one 


loose end, of а sort. Who or what was it 
that had taken on my shape to enter 
that Ik to Jane with my 
voice re her bed for, at any rate, 
a few minutes? She and I didn't d 
it for several days. The 
she asked me the ques 
as Гуе just put it, 

Interesting point, E said; I don't know. 
Ics more interesting than you think. she 
said; because when . . . whoever it was 
got imo bed with me, he didn’t just go 
to sleep. 

I suppose T just looked at her. That's 
Ли, she said; I thought I'd heiter go 
and see John before 1 told you. (T 
John Allison, our кур.) 

Jt was negative, then, I said. Yes, Janc 

id 
Well, that’s it. A relief, of couse. But 
ather disappointing. 


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PLAYBOY 


314 


OUT ISLANDS continued pam page 155) 


at night. The surprise 


through Bimi 
Д 
a It becomes another place. 


beautiful: 


; the wind sounded like 
in in the palm trees; and against 

the full moon a rocky, pitch-blue thun- 
derhead was growing like a slow growl in 
an otherwise clear black sky. Th 
nothing we could do but hold 
On the docks of the marinas that line 


the lee side of the island—sticking out 


during 
night—we m 


the day, lit bi 


eled at yachts 


the 
parked there, backed up with the names 


AL FEES— Palm Beach: Lyr 
Largo. No chrome-plated 
; these were 5150.000 
ned only to catch. fish. with 
tuna towers rising over the cabins like 
oil derricks, and fighting chairs of sculp- 
tured stainless steel and leather riveted to 
the polished teak decks. 

At the end of a new dock ester 
from ihe Game g Club, 
came across two dralt-age fisher 
parently lute at putting their bou 
order, One, with bl П 
im glasses 
in his eye 
a pile of equipment in the stern 
е stopped to talk to his short- 
haired friend, who stood on the dock 
He was telling us how they'd just been 
towed over from Florida by the battered 


showing: 1 


ling 
we 


was 


us a ride to Abaco in the 
Gleam jumped ow of the 
cut in half a fivepound Spanish 


the dock 


morn 


boat 
mackerel that was lying 
jumped back into the boat wi 


but nobody was 


m had the s 


kept talkin 
attention: Сс: 


and silent, he pulled out à monster rad. 


and reel fir for landing Godzilla, baited 
the ridiculous hook with the § E 
with joy and great confidence in the 
fighting chair and dropped the line 


overboard, inte the fourfoo stretch of 
between the stern and the dock 
grin he revealed his plan: "Im 
с а idt" 


With 
gonna catch 


Like the shattered spine ol some an 
dient snake, the Exumas stretch 
cast from Nassau. lor 90 mil 
broken swoop of cays that f 
imo Great xuma aud fades quickly to 
is anuchimas, Little Fxuma Like 
of the Out Ы Exun 
practically pristine; and since the govern- 
ment has chumed a 30-mile string. of 
them in the north as a Land and Sca 
Park, some will stay the way God 
planned it Rare Bahamian йт 
they have the bad luck of tasti 
dhicken—snoore and blink in the sun 
here, making a Калу last stand: and only 
and sidedancing sand crabs 


south 
a thin 
ally swells 


most 
the 


nds, 


© 


birds 


share the pale ares of the beaches with 
them. But in the south, Great Exuma is 
beginning, just, to feel the first hot 
th of the developers. Its not a big 
1—90 miles long and five wide at 
the bulge—but Stocking Island to the 


east holds off the sometimes nasty А 
tic and gives i calm wide natu 
harbor. The land is genuinely hilly, an 


event in the flat Bahamas, and shines 
with small lakes. Which has been enough 
to atıract attention for some time. 

It's not lack of imagination that led 10 
fact that practically everybody on the 
istand has Rolle as a surname. Nor is it 
quite one big happy family: Right afte 
the unfortunate outcome of the American 
Revolution, a few hundred Southern 
loyalists fled 10 the Bahamas 10 escape the 
repression at home, and they naturally 
took their ideas with them. By 1800 
there were couon plantations all over 
the Out Islands, worked by slaves 
watched over by Ole Marse hisscf. But 
y never came close to the medieval 
ngham splendor of p i 
ginia and Carolina, They were 
«| parodies of old feud 
soil in the Bahamas is thin at best 
required only a few seasons of 
«опон to Kill it. The plani 
dealt with the problem by continually 
clearing new fields, which must 
pleased the slaves, and that proces is no 
doubt how Sir John Rolle ended up 
owning most of Exun nd ov 0 
slaves by 1830. But when Britain de- 
Emancipation in 1851, Rolle, un- 
most of the slaveowners, actually 
lived up to the law: He closed up shop 
and divided the land. among his former 
slaves. And by way оГ showing they 
ıt bear grudges, they took his name 

Knowing all that, the drive from the 
inland airstrip to George Town on the 
sound is stranger tham it might other 

seem: The lund is being divided 
again. Clifford, a hip young taxî driver, 
took us mm his canary-yellow 761 Impal 
dashboard layered. with playing cards 
and tontons macoute sunglasses and cok 
lapsed packs of Salems, Marvel. comes 
scattered. on the [ront seat next to him. 
We were driving along a сшуйзд road 
through the high seraggly brush when 
suddenly around a comer came а sige 
rana Maa SOUND DEVELOPMENT. Out of 
the scrub. the op folks of Baha 
n Sound have shoveled the bones of 
1 ambitious subdivisio gh 
c gravel roads through the grecnery 
fike-gracous grid. But thats as far 
as they ve gotten. Hs а development with- 
out houses, a ghost suburb waiting to take 
ho The uncertain political sit- 
is to be blamed for the lack of 
lependence may make it 
unwise, which ıs to say unprofitable, for 
the speculators to continue. their. good 
works, So theyre w amd in the 


hav: 


wise 


п. curing re 


vw. du 


meantime, streets without purpose criss- 
cross the island. 

George Town, the capital, is nicely 
not much: a village of 500 people and a 
few dozen buildings randomly arranged 
long the bay. Iv looks like a small 


quiet accident, the outskins of a city 
that never quite happened, I is so 
tranquil and uneventlul (except during 


the Out Island Regawa in April, when 
people arrive in bunches to 90 crazy 
watching or joining the locals in the 
free-for-all work-boat races) that travel 
brochures milling about it invariably 
mention the African fig tree in the ce 
ter of town as a point of high interest 
Its a beautiful strong old tree, bur you 
will admit that's fairly quier. 

Clifford drove us slowly through town. 
pointing out such sights as John Mar 
shall’s grocery store, then sped up Гог 
the last mile to our resort. By the time 
we had checked storm clouds were 
piling up like wads of wet smoke out 
over Stocking Island. Clifford spared us 
gray afternoon in bar drinking 
drive to 
Rolleville, 20 les north. On the way 
up. he told us who he was—he owns the 
Im , fixes it himself because he'd have 
то ship it to Nassau otherwise, for $100 a 
day guides a fishing boat he keeps on the 
Че and wants next to get a private pi- 
lot's license, mainly because it would 
mike him the first native kid on the 
island to have one. an unbeatable leap in 
status among the ladies. He told us all 
about md hardly paused when the 
hard brief storm hit io runn through 
the trash on the dashboard and hand me 
the handle for the window next to me. I 
rolled it up. put the handle back on th 
lh approximately where it belonged 
id kept listenin, 
pped after a few miles. 
and then we pulled up ас Rolleville's 
only attraction, The Hilltop Inn. It 
sis, as you might guess, on one of the 
highest spots in Rolleville, а villa: 
growing like sparse colorful mushrooms 
the hills, and al hangout, 
with a bar and pool table, outdoo 
dance floor and rool patio. all done in 
concrete block and cement, graying 
white outside. flamingo pink within. Its 
not the sort of place where you'd expect 


the 
rum punches by suggesting 


10 see Harry Reasoner, but there he wis 
as we walked in. up on the TV screen 
above the bar, waxing and waning 


through the visual static like some McLu 
hanesque moon, telling a bartender who 
had seldom teft Exuma that Си 'orge Wal- 


lace today had undergone minor su 
md 1 


Margaret 
Gurls, а fave 
nds, 
which is a truly great place to drink. to 
sit and look. even in the gun-bluc storm 
light: the village spread without center 
in hills dropping unevenly but always to 
the water: the houses sitting brightly 
among them, some sadly spare, aqua and 


bought 
be 


two 


nthe 
ad wandered up to the roof 


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OR the Playboy Ваг 
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ada Playboy 
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Just $25 gives him the ONE Christmas 
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And atthe end of his first year, he has 
the opportunity to renew his Key for 
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All these gifts will be announced in a 
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in your name. Along with being 
such a great Christmas gift, 

for those special friends, a 
Playboy Club Key 

is a great gift for you. 
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їп California and Michigan. 
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pink block shells with thatched roofs; 
three litle kids goofing down a gravel 
road with buckets on their heads; and 
beyond. in the water, a line of arched 
cays, like the backs of huge green sea 
turtles swimming along in formation. 
We were finally away from home. 
Jt was like that the next morning on 
Stocking Island, almost: We rode over 
in an I8foot outboard with several 
other guests from our resort, and the 
boat let us out at another of those 
perfect beaches, on the Elizabeth Har- 
hour side, then roared foaming away. 
Margaret and I took the snorkeling 
1 brought and walked 
ile to a spot where an outcrop- 
limestone bluff interrupted. the 
. Here, Margaret assured me, we 
fish, so we stumbled into our 
and headed out around the bluff. I 
5 kicking along, inhaling a minimum 
of sea water and looking for something 
to look at, when Margaret beside me 
pointed down to the left in front of us. 
There he was: Resting on the bottom, 
Imost hidden by a layer of sand, was a 
sting ray about the size of a flattened 
Volks . or so it seemed. a gray delta 
ked only by the tip of each wing 
nd thc tail, and the cyes like dark 
punctuation before it. ‘They а 
dinary creatures, breath-taking to watch 
when they burst flying out of the ocean, 
a manic beauty you dont olten sce. 
"They can also sting the shit out of you, 
so we stayed clear and kept sw 
right into a pair of middle-sized barra- 
cuda who weren't going anywhere. Just 
act like you know what you're doing, the 
theory gocs, and we did. The sting ray 
behind us was at least asleep, so we 
turned trying to look little 
ike wounded fish as possible, and swam 
for the beach. As we were sloshing from 
the water, Marga aid, “Well, out of 
the three things that cin get you, we just 
saw two of them. A shark would have 
been next.” 
sailboat and a small yacht had 
nchored down the beach while we were 
gone, and gathered on a spit of sand 
piercing out toward the channel were 
hall a dozen people standing around 
three dark Jumps on the beach. The 
lumps turned out to be starfish, quickly 
dying in the sun, and as we got closer, a 
freckled and beer-bellied good ole boy 
тозе out of the water like a hillbilly 
Poseidon, grinning, with yet another in 
his hands. He passed it to a buddy, who 
added it to the row. Margaret doesn’t 
like to hassle people, but she belie 
a few things, so she went up to the 
buddy and asked quietly: “What are you 
going to do with these?" The buddy 
looked at her like she was crazy and 
answered, "We're gonna take one 
home,” She looked back at him in a way 
І know 100 wi Then why ere you 
killing the other three?" He pondered 


equipment we 
half a 


nming— 


з16 that for a long second, staring down at 


the starfish, and then without saying 
anything picked up the two smallest and 
waded out into the water with them. We 
Luter saw them floating dead or in severe 
shock near the surface, but he had tried. 
I's not easy to start thinking like space 
captains instead of cowboys, especially 
in places like Stocking Island: where a 
sandy pi gles across the island 
through the dunes and comes out on the 
Atlantic side, where there is no one but 
you and beach as far as you can sce, 
with a low surf boiling lightly against it, 
and hidden sandy coves jutting occasion- 
ally into the bluff, where you can really 
be alone if you're modest, in love, or 
simply more paranoid than you'd care 
10 admit. 


Harbour Island was sculed by Maine 
and Massachusetts loyalists who settled 
here and built a village in the image of 
those they had just resigned: And now 
in Dunmore Town. along narrow streets 
casually laced over the slow hills, there 
are simple clean clapboard houses, tidy 
and painted and framed by picket fences. 
Good sensible Protestant plants like 
birches and apple trees and dandelions 
w here, but bougainvillea 
royal poinciana and hibiscus will 
against the prim buildings, their intem- 
perate pagan blasts of color make Dun- 
more Town seem like an old New 
ngland fishing village in light firta- 
tion with Satan. Hawthorne would have 
loved it. 

Harbour Island is а joy to cruise on 
rented Honda 505. It's only six miles long 
and not half hat wide, but there are 
many textures. On the north tip, we found. 
doned streets, forgotten. and over- 
grown. poindessly intersecting through 
Thick underbrush and wild unthinned 
dumps of coco palms, crumbling short 
cuts for skitting lizards and hermit crabs; 
then down along Bay Street aud out 
onto the concrete tongue of Government 
Pier, where native kids were greeting the 
ferry coming in from Eleuthera by plung- 
ing with wide smiles 20 feet to the water, 
ng not for money or local color but 
the fun of it; then back along Bay Street 
toward the edge of town, stopping to say 
what became a lengthy hello to an old 
n sitting on a worn wooden bench be- 
ath a tree. He wore a white pith 
helmet and work gloves and was careful- 
ly weaving with pliers heavy strands of 
numberli wire through steelmesh 
curving the metal plane into 
aders shaped like outsized hat- 
boxes, with one side seductively col- 
lapsed and beckoning inward. He told 
us they were grouper cages, much 
stronger than the cages of woven palm 
swips he made until not too many years 
ago. And then he told us about the 
great grouper catch off Andros, so many 
fish filling the cages that the fishermen 
could hardly haul them aboard their 
skiffs; which led him to the theology of 


men and fish. “The fish, they got their 
own mind. Down there, thats th 
world. they do what they want. But God 
created man to have dominion over the 
fish. . . ." And finally how when he 
dies he wants to be curried by his 
friends from his house, the yellow-frame 
New Englander across the road, up the 
hill to the church and then to the ceme- 
tery. “I want the band to play that fine 
old song, The Old Rugged Cross, all the 
way. You know, I was born here, and 
r I like it better.” Later, at 
їн, we cruised by again and he was 
still sitting there under the tree, shaded 
now not from the sun but the street- 
light. Just as Don Juan, that wise old 
aqui Indian, directs, he had found 
his spot. 


every y 


Harbour Islanders whisper cerie tales 
bout their neighbors on Spanish Wells 
nd when you go there you quickly find 
ош why. It is walking into a horror 
movie of a chilling subtle sort— Invasion 
of the Body Snatchers as Henry James 
would have done it, You see it first in 
the douded blue eyes and slack dead 
jaw of the water-taxi operator, who aims 
his twin outboards without a word to- 
ward the little island. He doesn't ask 
for money when you get out: he knows 
you have to go back w 
at all. And walking along streets that 
seem unnaturally clean, you sce that it is 
true: Everyone you encounter looks just 
like everyone else, not the way races do 
to some people, but exactly alike, kids, 
old folks everybody: the same glazed 
blue eyes and sandy blond hair and 
fading pointed chins and. perpetual sun- 
burned cheeks. Imperfect clones of a 
Georgia sharecropper. they seem, and 


that is dose: There are 300 people liv- 
ing here—every one of them white—but 


the telephone book is dominated by 
one name, Pinder, with three or four 
others filling out almost all the rest. 
They are the children of a few Carolina 
loyalists who came here to fish for a 
living after the Revolutionary War and 
who didn’t particularly take to strangers 
alter they arrived; and so they have 
been inbreeding for 200 years, entwined 
generations of cousinly love, which is 
what they whisper about on Harbour 
Island. The stories are macabre and 
probably true: of genes exploding into 
sad horrible forms: of idiots and freaks 
locked in basements or kept in houses 
all their lives, touching the world only 
with their occasional screams of terror 
or uncomprehending rag 

We heard no screams during our 
walk, but we could feel and sometimes 
sce, behind curtains pulled back just 
that much, hard suspicious eyes in cold 
focus on us. And as we passed one house, 
we head Merle Нарва ich and 
smooth out of 

(text concluded on page 320; 

to the Bahamas’ Out Islands overleaf y 


Give Windsor instead. 


This holiday season give Windsor Canadian instead of your usual whisky gift. 
Windsor is the only Canadian made exclusively with Canadian grain, with water from 
glacier-fed springs, and aged in the dry mountain air of the Rockies. 


3 


IMPORTED 
WINDSOR 
Ek supreme- 
Surprise yourself at Christmas 


by making your favorite whisky CANADIAN 


drinks with Windsor instead of whisky 
your usual domestic whisky. It = 
makes a marvellous difference. | Uo 


The Windsor Guardsman, 


N Asuitable symbol for the 
WINDSOR 8 N Supreme Canadian. 


Supreme 


Give Windsor instead. It's 


N EAR 
Canada's smoothest whisky, 
and the price is very remark- 


able.Gift Wrap available in The smoothest | W IN D SOR 


fifth, quart,half-gallon sizes. E CMM E | CANADIAN | 


318 


The Bahamas’ Out Islands won't take yau away from it all, but some came close: Resorts are aften gardens pruned from the wilds ar 
near villages where a shawing of The Glass Bottom Boat is a majar event. Days ore devoted exclusively ta whatever you can do in, 
on or near water. And night life consists mostly of drinking and pouring dimes into a jukebox a! a native club. But tell yaur lady ta take 
her floor-length if you're planning to stay at a resart; it tends to get formal after dark. Bahamian cuisine centers on seafood (especially 
grouper), but hotels provide generally tasty alternatives. Shopping includes strawwork (fine on Exuma}, hand-caryed turtle-shell jewelry 


ABACO 


linked by o bridge, Great and little 
Abaco form а 127-mile expanse sug- 
cred with secluded cays perfect for 
skinny-dipping; and the hunting—nota- 
bly for wild bocr—is excellent. To 
reach either Treasure Coy or Marsh 
Harbour airport, fly Mackey Interno- 
tional Commuter from Flarida, Out Is- 
land Airways from Nassau. 


Bluff House Club ond Marina, Green 
Turtle Cay: Perched BO feet above the 
sea, а ledge, bor and ten cozy roams 
cluster around o salt-water pool. Free 
dinghies with outboards for bonefishing; 
marina for yacht docking. 


Elbow Cay Club, Hope Town: Friendly 
atmosphere in a 14-roam ledge and 
тна cattages along the water. Moorings 
for any size boat; dinghies, outboard 
runobouls, cruiser and Sunfish far hire. 


Green Turtle Club ond Marina, Green 
Turtle Cay: Three waterside cottages and 
14 roams share on intimate bar, timbered 
dining room, pool, three beaches and a 
marina with rental boots and gear for skin- 
divers, woter skiers, sailors and reelers. 


New Plymauth Inn, Green Turtle Cay: 
Charming 130-year-old building in the 
center of the village with nine rooms over- 
looking the town and bay; young owners 
from Beltimore make it a genial spot, 
even without a beach or pool. 


Treasure Cay Beach Hotel and Villas, 
Treasure Cay: This $16,000,000 devel- 
opment offers the island's most elaborate 
digs—190 of them—plus three dining 
areas, five tennis courts, 1B-hole links, 
boar hunts, marina with yacht berths, and 
an abundant supply of water-sports gear 
and fishing boats to rent. Super camp. 


Union Jack Club ond Motel, Marsh 
Harbour: An old but campletely remod- 
eled former loyalist home with 15 water- 
front rooms, cottage, restaurant and bar. 
Sports include sailing, motorboating, 
scuba diving, snorkeling, deep-sea, reef 
and bonefishing. 


ANDROS 


Nearly half mangrove swamp, the big- 
gest Bahamian island is sneered at by 
frovel guides. But several first-rate re- 
sorts are sprouting up and offshore is 
the world’s second largest barrier reef, 
а fantastic natural high for scuba and 
skindivers. From Florida, fly Mackey; 
from Nassau, Out Island Airways. 


Andros Becch Hotel and Villas, Nicholls 
Town: An up-and-comer with fen rooms, 
38 villas and three cottages, dining room, 
fresh-water росі, beach, dock; motor- 
bikes, bicycles, boats, snorkeling and 
scuba gear for hire. 


Andros Reef Inn, Fresh Creek: А rom- 
bling beach ledge with 12 labor-comp 
rooms, bar and restaurant; hard-core 
scuba freaks anly. 


Small Hope Bay Lodge, Fresh Creek: All 
the necessary equipment and 24 congenial 
—though unairconditioned—accommoda- 
tions fer diving aficionades. loose and 
stimulating. Long-hairs may apply. 


BIMINI 


Narth and South Bimini, just 50 miles 
fram Miami, rank as the Americas’ un- 
rivaled deep-seo-fishing capital. All fish- 
ermen drink, so raucous North Bi 
alsa boosts more night life in its native 
bars and hatels than anywhere else in 
the chain. Fly Mockey fram Florido, Out 
Island Airways fram Nassau. 


Anchors Aweigh Club: Owner Neville 
Stuart, who has many stories to tell, is 
the chief attraction at this North Bimini 
Pension, but the new rooms are done in 
maiden-aunt comfortable, and the Bloody 
Mary Room is tight next door. 


Bimini Big Game Fishing Club: Recently 
purchased by the Bacardi rum firm, this 
65-roam resort is the all-purpose place ta 
put up an Narth Bimini. 


The Compleat Angler: Ten spotless 
rooms in an old North Bimini hause 
where Emest Hemingway holed up in 
#1 to write To Have and Have Not. 


BERRY ISLANDS 


Pint-sized landfalls surrounded by sand 
flats, these islands are favorites af bane- 
fishermen. Fly Out Island from Nassau. 


Crown Colony Club, Chub Cay: Oc- 
cupying oll of Chub Cay's 1000 acres, 
this semiprivate establishment features 
а beach, pool, tennis court, skeet and 
trapshoating, 3B hotel ond villa ac- 
commadations, landlocked marina and 
5000-foot airstrip. The whole thing. 


Great Horbaur Club, Great Harbour: A 
posh resort-residenticl development with 
golf course, 7B villos and 40 town houses; 
its Tamboo Marina provides deep-sea 
charters, boats and gear for sailing, 
scuba and skindiving. 


HARBOUR ISLAND 


Ringed by live reefs, this small, elegant 
island lies just off the northern tip of 
Eleuthera, Fly from Florida via Mackey 
to North Eleuthera or from Nassau via 
Out Islond Airways; a water toxi 
speeds you to Harbaur Island. 


Briland Yacht Club: A trim little resort 
with 23 rooms, pool, tennis court, boats 
and equipment for soiling, fishing. 


Coral Sands and Pink Elephant: With с 
total af 33 accommodations, this Spanish- 
style complex rises along the spectacular 
three-mile Pink Beach. Free tennis, scil- 
boots, snarkeling equipment; scuba gear 
‘and guides available, plus bicycles, mator- 
bikes and fishing boots. 


k Sands: Every luxury for subdued 
idylers in the 31 cottages and 4B 
rooms of o 4Ü-ocre beach estote. Ten- 
nis, all water sports. Take your best 
manners and references. 


Romora Bay Club: Gracious former 
manor with nine rooms ond two cat- 
tages. Free snorkeling gear, a waterfront 
facility with bar, and fleet. Superfine. 


Runawey Hill Club: Вогоог has written 
it up, but il's nice anyway. Seven raoms, 
poal with a view and private beach. 


опа Peter Pan Peanut Butler at 80 cents for 12 ozs.—and not much else. But you'll manage to spend your money, since most resorts 
chorge $60 с day per couple in season [December 15 through April 30, usually modified American plan). The recent independence 
election could affect cirline schedules, so check before you go. Take your own photo supplies and transistor radio (Nassau's ZNS broad- 
casts everything from hard rock to Dickens readings). And since most small retreats often con't offord to pay the ten percent fees 
exacted by credit-cord componies, remember to take along traveler's checks—plenty of them, becouse you may decide to stoy forever. 


ELEUTHERA 


Hardly more than two miles wide, this 
100-mile-long sliver of serenity is the 
most developed Out Island. To reach 
Governors Harbour and North Eleu- 
thera, fly Mackey from Florida, Out is- 
land Airways from Nassau. Pon Am 
Nies from New York to Rock Sound. 


Aquavilla, Governor's Horbour: Offbeot 
newcomer with a convivial lodge and 18 
hondsome houseboats, complete with 
kitchens, sun decks. Free tennis, snorkel- 
ing lessons and gear; ойо water-skiing, 
soiling, scuba ond skindiving, deep-sea 
ond reef fishing. 


Cotton Bay Club, Cotton Bay: A cushy 
private enclave open to nonmembers 
from May 1 to Augus! 15 thot offers all 
water sports and shores a golf course 
With the Rock Sound Club. 


Current Club, Current: Set in a grove of 
palms are 19 plush suites; on the water- 
front, с merino with boots, gear ond 
guides for snorkeling, skindiving, water- 
skiing, sailing and deep-sea fishing. 


Eleuthera Beach Inn, Torpum Bay: 
Commodious 100-room hotel with beoch, 
pool, sailing, fishing, tennis, golf. 


еу Head Inn, Ridley Head: 75-acre 
hideaway high on a ridge with a spec- 
tacular view ond nearby beach; nine 
rooms; boats available for rentol. 


Rock Sound Club, Rock Sound: Rother 
formal resort-plantation with 40 suites 
ond five cottages, pool, beach, tenni, 
sailing, snorkeling, diving, fishing, golf. 
The club alsa owns guest collages of 
Cotton and Winding bays. 


CAT ISLAND 


Perhaps the most scenic Out Island with 
its steep hills and dense forests, Cat Is- 
lond as yet offers limited accommodations. 
Fly Flamingo from Nassau. 


Hawk's Nest Creek Fishing and Yacht 
Club: Obviously, boating and fishing 
are of primary appeal at this ten-room 
shelter and marina, but there's also ten- 
nis, water-skiing, snorkeling and scuba 
diving; airstrip for private planes. 


LONG ISLAND 


Virtually undiscovered by the tourist 
trade and lend developers, 60-mile 
long Island is the most southerly and 
rarely visited Out Island. From Florida, 
fly Mackey; from Nassau, Flamingo. 


Stella Maris Inn and Marina: This out- 
of-the-way spot at the northern end of 
the island features 40 ottractive rooms 
and four cottages, uncrowded beaches, 
three pools, a top-drawer scubo- and 
skindiving program, plus sailing, water- 
skiing, fishing, tennis, horseback riding, 
cor and scooter rentals and free cruises. 


SPANISH WELLS 


There are excellent diving and fishing 
the coastal waters of this vaguely eerie 
mini-island just north of Eleuthera. Fly 
TO Worth Eleuthera alrport from Florida 
via Mackey or from Nassau via Out ls- 
land Airways, then toke a water toxi 
over to Spanish Wells. 


The Lloyds: Ennui has struck this once- 
great game- and spearfishing spot with 
29 rooms ond eight cottages. Even so, 
it offers tennis courts, bikes and а com- 
plete dive center with free snorkeling 
and spearfishing gear. Boats and scuba 
equipment for rent. 


SAN SALVADOR 


So remote from the rest of the Bahamas 
that it's completely surrounded by deep 
waters, this 60-square-mile island is а 
good base for big-game fishermen. Fly 
from Nossau vio Flamingo Airlines. 


Riding Rock Club Inn: At present the 
only resort on the islond, it offers six 
homey cotteges and provides beats for 
fishing and exploring neorby reefs. 


Robert's Harbour Club: A 16-room fish- 
ermen's retreat set on a hill that slopes 
down to a good dock; free bikes and 
sailboats; rental boats and equipment 
for snorkeling, skindiving and deep-sea 
and coastal fishing. 


Sowyer's Marino: Informal 14-room hos- 
telry frequented by yachtsmen stopping 
оп charters: dock and fuel facilities. 


EXUMA 


like о broken jade necklace, this 365- 
coy choin stretches for 90 miles from 
Beacon Cay in the north to the islands 
of Great and Little Exuma in the south. 
George Town, the capital, sits snugly 
on Great Exuma's Elizabeth Harbour, 
where native sailors compete every 
April in Bahomian work boats for cash 
prizes in the colorful Out Islond Regat- 
ta. Fly Mackey from Florida, Flamingo 
Airlines from Nossau to George Town. 


Bohama Sound Beach Club, Ocean 
Beach Park: A short drive from George 
Town, this seaside resort has 12 tidy 
rooms with balconies or terraces, plus a 
tennis court and a beoch, free bicycles 
ond rental cars. Crisp. 


Club Peace & Plenty, George Town: 
Fine 32-rcom haven ct the water's edge 
with pool end two cocktail lounges, it 
also runs с one-room beach club [on 
nearby Stocking Island) offering sciling, 
snorkeling, scuba diving and fishing. 


Out Island Inn, George Town: On о 
scenic spit of lond jutting out into Eliza: 
beth Harbour, this demi-exotic 88-гоот 
inn is built out of native stone and 
features two tennis courts, pool, restau- 
ront ond regularly scheduled entertain- 
ment, including calypso bands, films 
and even crab races; yacht ond fying 
clubs; water-skiing, scuba, snorkeling, 
fishing gear ond also cars for hire; 
bicycles available at no chorge; trans- 
port lo Stocking Island for picnicking, 
beachcombing and great breaker swim- 
ming. Whot, no polo? 


Pretty Molly Bay Club, little Ехото: 
Isolated spot ten miles from George 
Town with 24 bolconied rooms, five 
acres of private white-sand beach; 
rental cars, bikes, skiffs and motorboats 
for fishing and water-skiing. 


Regatta Point, George Town: No lobby, 
restaurant or saloon here, but the six 
copartments with perfect privacy and 
vistas of Sam Coy make this one of 
Exumo's mos! enticing retreats; kitchens 
in all quarters; full maid service. 


319 


PLAYBOY 


as how he's proud 10 be an Okie from 
and thats who they ar 

who fish instcad of 
sharecropping but remain true to the 
old ideals: Black natives come in from 
Eleuthera every morning to do what- 
ever work isn’t fit for white folks, and 


1 gone by six o'clock at night. 
We had heard about that on Harbour 
Is 


md. and а black kid we met here 
alking a bicycle and curying a wick 
basket full of onions, confirmed it. We 
were lost, on nd all of three miles 
valked out of his way to 
show us the street we wanted, I asked if 
he lived here. He answered only that he 
used to but didn't as if the 
reason was so obvious even a lost tou 
didn't need 10 be told. 

Мет aiming us in the right direction, 
he hopped onto his bike and rode 
back the way we'd just come, probably 


late delivering his onions. We hadn't 
gone far when two blonde teeny-hop- 
pers turned a corn walking 


d us. One of them, on sce 
l look that 
shot il 
l passed опе 
said smiling, 


towa 
switched on a bawdy virgin 
did my scarred heart good. 
in Lolita beams until we 
another. Margaret, kind, 
"She liked you” 

That's 


1 don't get looked at 
nd Vil take it even 


know what would have B 


And we built the fa 
one thing had gone down, if 
passed. I had breathed in her direc 


it would have happened: Out of every 
spotless house crazed blood ¢ 
would have come 


them, blind n 
the stain on her honor by stomping me 
until the last one got tired of kicking. 
The line must be Kept pure, the family 
tee continue to grow as it always has, 
branches curling closed ingrown 
loops and fused twisted gyres less like 
wee than ncreasing plate of 
spagheu 

The water we had to cross was not 
k like the Styx, but by the time we 


, the taximan looked a 
whole lot 1 Charon; and even as he 
sped us back toward the land of the 


living, we couldn't help looking back 
r our shoulders, just in сах 

Andros isn’t exactly the gem of the 
Bahamas. 1t is, technically, the largest of 
the islands, but miles of s rshes, like 
shallow bomb craters awash with souring 
sea water, cat into much of it, especially 
in the south and along the western 
edge. Many fresh-water lakes also di- 
minish the land: and while they are 
full of gray snapper, perch and catlish, 
they also mean bugs: mosquitoes and 
sand flies and a variety of flying 
bigger than a flake of ground pepper, 


gnat, 


320 that can go through screens, bed sheers 


and layers of Of to get you where it 
itches. 

It would be a place to avoid if it 
weren't for what lies underwater to the 
mastic barrier reef, second. larg- 
owing along the length 
а the coast like a sunken final pare 
iding suddenly at The Wall, 
sharp CI beneath the sea that drops 
straight 6000 feet into the Tongue of 
the Ocean. There is no better place for 
scuba diving 

We tried it, both for the first time. at 
the Small Hope Bay Lodge, a resort that 
ї first seems well named. You 
long a gravel road packed ove 
smelling marsh: bur a high woode 
fence hides the marsh from the resort, 
and once inside it is as pleasant as you 
could wish. The first thing you sce be 
yond the gate is a long bank of scuba 
tanks and regulators streiching on inu 


racks of face masks and fins, Small Hope 
Bay exists for one reason. And it at- 
tacts the mo vesting bunch of 


sanadıan 


people we encountered, The e: 
wher, Dick Birch, is not only an expert 
diver; he is seriously and intelligently 
concerned with the social and economic 


problems of the Bahamas—a concern 
shared by Rosie, his enth stic Ameri 
wife. She works as а one-woman 


e Corps in the best sense. devel 
E at the mo а cottage in 
dustry with native women who live 
^ teaching them to make simple 


bright shades and 
spired by the sea. Talk with 
ches polities to lem 
yve held sessions. 
10 the possible 
d in the little 
pharardly accumulated 
among the usual worn 
mysteries and dusty classics are Das 
Kapital, The Sane Society amd The 
Elementary Structures of Kinship. The 
«мз while there seemed 
100 young 100 much long 
hair to be called 1 they were 
а group. not is. On 
the afternoon we got there, several of 
them, just back from the day's deep 
dive, were gathered around а black- 
board in the lodge. The subject under 
ussion was a phenom 
yd found on the dive: 
it. АП sorts of 
jected. then a short Murry of t 
unabridged dictionary, and 
nouncement went up: 


batik garment in 
designs 
the Bi 


aps fron 


lib 10 sensitivity (th 
lor 


ihe guests de 


the lodge 


we were 


ips 10 the 
the 


PSILOCYBIN RIDGE 
110° 
Scuba or Not 


Whatever Feels Right 


chance came ihe п 
on, it must be admitted, a 
all the w 
out to the 


гау down to 15 fect. We rode 
f on a pontoon boat Cov- 
ered with equipment and novices. Janet 


Birch, Dick's blonde college-age daug 
ter, took on the task of showing us how 
10 make everything work: You w 
weight belt like this, the regulator gets 


tached to the tank here, th how 

u get water out of your mask, now 
stand on the side a pin 

1 stood, trying to balance 40 pounds 


of lead-covered air on my back, stum- 
bling in my flippers to the edge of the 
plywood deck. And stood there, struck— 


this cant work; jumping into water 
wearing this much weight is like putting 
out a conmact on mysell—and jumped 


anyway. dropped into the sea covered 
ith equipment to compensate for cvo- 
lutionary failings, sure as I splashed th 
the technology couldn't be trusted, no 
matter what anybody said. So I hovered 
near the boat, a foot or 
expecting treachery. But 
Instead. when you be; 
the rubber thing in your mouth w 
continue to shoot long gasps of air at 
n you finally realize that it is 
jot a shuck, that vou can actually strap. 
1 this shit on yourself and breathe 
ler water, when ihat happens the 


you, w 


nong brain coral 
1 fish: silver clouds of m 
nows flowing you in de 
sheets; angel ng unconcerned 


ches from your face, sometimes fip- 
ing closer to give your mask a friendly 
darting litle haltdollarsized 
mers, not yellow and blue but yeb 
low and blue. The colors: One of the 
good divers with us broke up а sca 
urchin—a sort of marine porcupine 
shaped like а tennis ball covered with 
spray of long black spines that protect 
the tender white flesh inside—and the 
fish came сокай . shredding 
the urchin ir 
ge bubbling spectators watching 
Spectacula 
ksters of fish. don 
Glo splotches and pattern 
and perch aud Junker bass 


ìl got up 


ild and stopping for a snack on thei 
way to an Acid Test the Fillmore 
Dov 


And one final beach, on Green Turtle 
Cay, off Abaco, the prettiest by far that 
we sau: sunset along а 
dy path through pine irecs, sending 
and cabs scurrying with a dry rustle 
through the brown bed of Lallen needles, 
some backing up tough, claws raised and 
ready lor a fight. And then the beach 
calm, flawless crescent of bay, pellucid 
water absolutely sill, shining golden in 
the gi 
all pier broke the symmetry, 
ling on it we could see the gliding 
shadows of young barracuda feeding 
near the shore, while among the pilings 
y snapper swerved in silent formation. 
is, as the ads promise, not a world 
way but out of this world. 


ily dying afternoon light. A single 
and 


Toste it like it really is, ond you'll find 
Bacardi dark rum hos an underployed flavor. 
One that's light and dry, not sweet. And aging 
moles it smooth and mellow. So you con drink 
it the same way some people drink whiskey. 
Easily. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what 
makes Bacardi on-the-rocks the on-the-rocks 
drinkfor you. Try it now. While it's on your mind 


BACARDI «rum. The mixable onc. 


You a Куе to mix it to like it. 


» TONEH 5 Iam reminded of a terrifying scene in 
o FROM S ЕМСЕ (coninuci from page 112) Things to Come, that fabulous picture 
ships, landing on the moon, traveling My problem is: How do I make this made by Н. С. Wells back in 1936, 

M 10 Mars, making the grand tour heading old problem sound new? when ] was in high school. I saw the 
$ for Betelgeuse. But space program By saying: Stand tall. Travel far. Live film only 12 times the first year it was 
gg is in the process of being junked. Men Jong. Be immortal. out, but I recall Sir Cedric Hardwicke 
re in the saddle, riding the machine By saying: Apollo 11. Apollo 12. Apol- heading his mob of intellectuals of both 

7 pack into the swamp, there to drown 1016. left and right, fisting the air at man's 
& and die And: Stonehenge. Tranquillity Base. first rocket to the moon, poised on the 
Sometimes, late at night, 1 feel my lips Try these last on your tongue. Say la g pad, and crying out: “Cease! 


moving in my sleep. I awake to hear the them aloud. Dess! Turn back!" What was once 
last syllables of some old truths repeated Why? Because the shadow of winter film footage has now become reality. 
па repeated, beca in slumber, ape men on England's ancient moors The intellectuals of the world, in full 
1 feel no one is listening, So here are the has reached up to fit an astronauts shoes cry, are out to dismantle the spaceships 
words again, in the hope that someone and stir the strange dust of the moon. and bury them back at Stoneheng 
ишу understands: ‘The history of all mankind I's been a lonely business, m 
Space travel is the single most im- shadows and such dust. The speak for space travel the past 35 years. 
portant thing that man has ever done in we speak of began three bil I felt little or no company when 1 was 
his long history. The landing of Apollo before this morning and will not end 17, in m 
11 on the moon on July 20, 1969, is the ten n years beyond tonight. But, ing my first stories about landing on the 
»gle most important event in our three in midswide hamstrung, we have shot moon. 1 don't feel much more company 
billion years of evolution—commensu- down Apollo. The barbarian bowling surrounding me today. In fact, I feel 
rate, if you please, with the birth /dez teams of history have won the day. And — jonelier, for we have indeed made it to 
rebirth of Christ. If this seems the monkeys, gibbering from the jun- Tranquillity Base and come home—to 
mous, read on. I з rim; doses ie take over: The mmi oe nquil times. But, lonely or not, I 
Dut to resurrect it. may well be silence. Wis UOTA DUET icc. 


How often in thc past years have we 
heard: Why spend all that money on 
the moon when we need it for jobs for 
people here on carth? This is dimwit, 
ten-watt-bulb thinking. It’s like saying: 
Let's unemploy people in order to em- 
ploy them. Let's fire people in order to 
hire them. But fire from what to hire 
for what? 

The fact is, of course, that not a 
single penny has been spent on the 
moon. Not a mill. Not a whisper of a 
sliver of a dollar. Everything has been 
spent in Pou sie and Muskegon 
and Houston and El Monte and East 
Tuskegee and West Waukegan. The 
money has been spent on black people 
and white people. And the money has 
bought jobs, jobs. jobs. All of the money 
for Apollo flooded earth and hired 
and enriched hundreds of thousands of 
people—who now, gunshot, walking 
wounded, 

Wouldn't. it 
employ the millions involved with the 
illogic of Vietnam? Where is the real 
money we can grab and use for cities, 
civil rights, ecology? It jingles in the 
pockets of the military. It cinks in the 
усыз of black marketeers in Saigon. 
It nestles in Swiss banks, seeded there 
by our friends the South Vietnamese. 
Where are our priorities? 

It follows that we must do everything 
at once. Man must save himself simulta- 
neously on two levels, He must survive 
in the infectious dust of earth that he 
has stomped into clouds of smog about 
his head. But he must also surviv уе 
forever—upon the moon, upon Mars, 
eventually, in hibernation along the 
в P wa kening in a new Garden, never 
sn't it wonderful, Ted? The big to be driven forth ag: 
322 bands are coming back!” on some planet circum! 


€ sense to un- 


„ saved. forever, 
ivigating а new 


_itwon't qui 


The Only thing better than a club soda that’s full of ite atıthe\ 

end of a party isa girl who's full of life at the end ofa party: 
But what a man probably knows about a woman (Or vice 

versa), you might not know about club soda. Especially ours 

You see,Canada Dry Club Soda gets its life through ^ 
a special process called pin-point carbonation. Which means), 
an uncapped bottle of our bubbles will last for twelve, 
twenty-four, even forty-eight hours. 

So next time you’re having a party with an intimate 
acquaintance, or a few hundred friends, mix your scotch 
whiskey with Canada-Dry Club Soda. j 

It may not do wonders for your love life: Butitcan do ~ 
wonders for your drink. 


Canada Dry: dub soda with a long lasting bubble. 


(Check listings tor Canada Dry's Т.У. Christmas Special. Check local dealer for Canada Dry's While Christmas Sweepstakes.) 


sun so far away we cannot count the 
miles. 

Toynbee speaks of the challenge and 
response of various tribes, nations and 
cial groups in the long history of man. 
Those who refuse the challenge, who 
will not respond, become the detritus of 
агу. In our time, it almost seems that 
every day brings forth a newer, greater. 
more doonrridden challenge. We аге 
Moses on the mountain with the Ten 
Commandments suddenly revealed but 
ighing ten ow tons in our af. 
frighted hands. We would like to drop 
the whole burden, retire to the lunatic 
farm and babble out our restful days. 
Yet the universe will not accept lunacy, 
save to tread upon it, grind it under 
and go on to other yeasting experiments. 

Bernard Shaw describes creative evolu- 
tion as matter and force making itself 
over into intelligence and spirit. The 
universe is full of matter and force. Yet 
in all that force, among all the bulks 
and gravities, the rains of cosmic light, 
the bombardments of energy. among all 
that, how little spirit, how small the sum 
of intelligence. We are that spirit. We 
are that intelligence. Dumb, sometimes, 
yes. Awful, quite often. Dreadful apis 
brutes, on occasion following occasion. 

And yet I would not sce our candle 
blown out in the wind. It is a small 
thing, this dear gift of life handed us 
inysteriously out of immensity. I would 
not have that gi i 


PLAYBOY 


covered cows’ horns the coals of the 

previous nights’ fires to start new fires 

1. Thus we carry 

ourselves in the universal wilderness and 

blow upon the coals and kindle new 
lives and move on yet aga 

So neither Shaw nor 1, if you will 

сизе me for trotting in his shadow, is 

here to celebrate the defeat of man by 
matter, but to proci high destiny 
nd urge him on to it. 

Are we, therefore, grand great good 
tall heroes deserving of fame 
mortality? Hardly. We are poor beggars 
in the long night of the abyss, begging 
for crumbs on cold street corners where 
death is certain for one mistake. 
we beautiful, lovely, endearing, гош 
tic wonders of morality? No, We 
Quasimodo, ten bil ies squared, 
Tiunched of back, blind of сус, pitiful of 
stance, yet reaching to pull that rope 
and ring all the loud bells of the un 
verse and listen to them—forever. And 
we shall do it. 

The dream of mankind has been to 
someday Kill death, We have written of 
it in our stories, novels, songs, poems. 
Dylan Thomas says: "And death shall 
have no dominion.” John Donne con- 
ans that "Death shall be по more; 
death, thou shalt die." We echo them 
and cry out to the Reaper that one day 

324 we will shatter his scythe and scatter its 


on the nights ah 


arc 


shards amid the мат. In our time, the 
rocket arrives as shatterer of the scythe. 
‘The rocket fre promises to burn dean 
the graves of history and sweeten the 
winds of tomorrow with the good smell 
of man become everlasting seed to the 
universe. 

It is surely apparent from all T have 
put down so far that I look upon space 
лос as an experiment in paramilitary 
physics but as a religious enterprise. The 
proper study of mankind is man. The 
proper study of man is God. The proper 
study of God is space. All wheel about 
one another in concentric gravitics. All 
are one. 

In a drama of mine broadcast in Lo 
don a while back, I placed a priest 
the midst of a spaceman's chapel the 
night before a journey to the interstellar 
deeps. He spoke about space, time and 
life wiumphant: 


Is God dead? An ancient topic 
now. But once our response might 
have been no, only sleeping until 
you dreadful bores shut up. A bee 
ter question is: Are you dead? Does 
your blood move їп your hand? 
Does your hand move to touch met- 
al? Does that metal move to touch 
space? Do wild thoughts of travel 
and migration move behind your 
Hesh? They do. You live. Therelore, 
He lives. 

You are the d 
an unsensing earth. You are 
growing edge of God which m 
fests itself in hungers for space. 
much of God lies vibrantly asleep. 
The very stuffs of worlds and galax- 
ics, they know not themselves. God 
reaches for the stars. You are His 
hand. Creation manifest, you go to 
nd, He goes to find, Himself. 


The rocket blasts oil 

All the myths we have ever spoken. 
born of our guts and issued from our 
mouths. and written in our books and 
acted in our pageants are the sum total 
of Man /God. We stir in our own sleep. 
We would be. We could become. Wi 
would sum ourselves up iore than 
we now аге, If the universe is mindless, 
we have mind. If the universe knows 
not. we know. If the universe is empty. 
we will fill it- 

In sum, it is not either/or 
We camot choose between, We must 
choose both: earth and space. If that 
difficult, why, all of life has always 
been difficult —but would we have it any 
other way. 1 wonder? There lies the 
terror—and the fun, There is the game 
of lose and win and lose and win again. 

In Wells's sere for Things to 
Come, Hardwicke raves at the head of 
his mob: “We don't want mankind to 
go out to the moon and the planets. We 
shall hate you more if you succeed than 
if you fail. Is there never to be calm 
for man?" 


skin of life upon 
that 


thunder 


but all, 


хее 


Го which the с 
dios his reply: 
or it goes back. Beware the concuss 
The rocket fires. 
In a vast telescope mirror. the fathers 
of the two astronauts watch the small fire 
the moon, 


n of the ship ra- 
life goes forward 
ion!” 


Iy God, 


the other 4 
the individu 
much of it and 100 soon, and we call it 
ath. But for and no 
ending. He must go on—conquest be- 


To which 
enough (о 


man, no rest 


yond conquest. This little planet. its 
winds and ways and all the laws of 
mind and mauer that restrain him. 


Then the planets about him, and at last. 
out across immensity to the stars. And 
when he has conquered all the deeps of 
space and all the mysteries of time, still 
he will be beginn 
He points out at the univi 
"It is that—or this. All the universe— 
or nothingness. Which sh 
The two men fade. The stars remain. 
The music rises. 
“Which shall it be?" his voice repeats 
It is ours to choose. И we 
wrongly, we stay on earth and bury 
ourselves forever at Stonchenge. If we 
choose aright, we turn our backs on the 
suffo of the grave, the moldering 
of all our best and most beautiful plans, 
the death of infant man, and go to 
esurrect ourselves among the stars. 
Then will death itself die? Yes. Yes to 
life. Yes to the universe. Yes to all and 
everything. forev 
Yes. 
When all else 
Tf all the war 


choose 


5 


ying no. 


were stopped tomor- 


row, and the blood ceased boiling. and 
the skies were cleared of their pollution, 
and 1 strifes were put to rest, what 


then? Should we sit and wait for the sun 
to run down? For the earth to freeze in 


some arctic blizzard. or burn in some 
solar fire, should the sun explode? 
We must not wait to freeze or burn 


The time of gui s upon us. We 
must pack and go. A few itinerant gyp- 
sies on the road, at first. And then, a 
vast journeying of souls. For it is certain 
that if we stay here w 
with us, and God's effort, in this pa 
the universe, will be for nought. 

Challenge and Response 
and challenge. Toynbec’s voice ghosts us 
down the years ahead. What do I hand 
you now, wave stuffed 
with spirits to last beyond Alpha € 
uni? Or а shovel for your g 
Choose one. Move or dig. 

As [or me, I move. I go to drink from 
the Big Dipper. And the stuff 1 d 
life. Come wit 

8 


g away 


response 


? А suitcase 


Kent. 


Kings: 17 mg. "tar," t mg. nicotina: 5 
30's: 19 mg. “tar,” 1.3 mg. nicotine av. pecu. FIC Report Aug, 72. 


елкага 1972 


eke 


"Икте ee 


d Lo 


TRUCKIN WITH GRETCHEN 


found needle marks in her arm and 
tely started injecting her with a 
heroin substitute that she didn't need or 
want, because it wasn't smack she'd been 
shooting but downers. She tried to tell 
the matron that the drug was just mak- 
ing her h and constipated, but the 
doctor came in twice that day anyway, 
nd insisted on shooting her in a “roller,” 
which is a vein that won't stay in one 
place and makes the needle painful. She 
alled the doctor a pervert, too. She'd 
so had hepatitis once. from using the 
community needle, and she said if there 
was one thing worse than jail, it was to 
be weak and homy for six weeks in a 
hospital under a doctor's orders that she 
could have no drugs that would get her 
off and no visitors who might bring her 
drugs. But there was a crazy old woman 
in the next bed who swore she was vis 
ited by her dead husband every night 
and who was willing to trade her ration 
of sleeping pills to Gretchen for dirty 
books. “She gave me ten hits, five days’ 
worth, for The Big Whip, but when 1 
really figured her out. [ started getting 
like fifteen for things li 
Love.” 

Before eight I asked her where 1 
could call her, and she said 1 couldn't, 


PLAYBOY 


phone in their aparunent and had 
the bell off so that the telephone com- 
pany wouldn't know, t су could 
kc outgoing calls only. But she said 
not to worry, that she'd call me about the 
pound of grass and the ounce of blond 
Lebanese hash I had asked for, and about 
a week later she did. 
“Hello, is this the Bishop?” 
"Gretchen?" 
“Yeah.” 
“Who's the Bishop? 
"You are,” she said as if it were a 
present. 
“OK, what's up?” 
“Well . . | this is Merrill Lynch EI 
Dopo and Pierce calling to say that 
Lebanese cheese closed today at опе 
hundred and eighty a share . . . and, 
let's see... if 1 can fucking find it here 
-.. yes... Mexican gold smelters 
holding around one hundred and filty a 
share, зо... how ‘bout it?” 
“Ah, is а share of the Mexican stock, 
like a pound?” 
“Yes, yes and shit," she said slowly 
"You have blown my very dever code, 
you know. . . 
“I'm sorry, I want а full share of 
cach.” 
"OK. one share L. C.—dynamite cheese, 
1cally —and one share M. G.; I got it and 
I'll bring it by tomorrow.” 
Alter she hung up, 1 began to believe 
that she really did have all the dope 
she said and that nicknames and tele- 
phone codes were more than idle games 
326 for her. Then my paranoia took а litle 


(continued from page 194) 


fantasy leap and it occurred to me that 
the two of us might be the first people 
ever to be busted on drug charges by the 
Securities and Exchange Commission 
The next day she showed up with 
everything in a Bonwit Teller bag. The 
grass smelled good and seemed moist and 
fresh and I rolled it in my hands and 
sniffed at it, although I can tell nothing 
about any kind of drug that way. Final 
ly, the only test I ever found is to 
put it into my body and wait. If I do 
not die or lose my mind, or murder 
someone, or run screaming through а 
window calling the names of God and 
my seventh-grade girlfriend, then I know 
that it is good dope in the right dose 
Grass and hash have always proved be- 
nign by this test and 1 do not worry 
about them. But with almost everything 
else—mescaline and acid, THC and coke 
ve snorted or dropped. I have 
ys felt like the man who ate the first 
artichoke. When I was young, my step- 
father used to tell the story (at d 


пег 


а “taken his life 
in his hands to find out if that prickly 
green thing was edible.” I always pic 
tured him as а Salinas Valley Indian, and 
now in my 29th year, I am nearly sure he 
was looking to get high, not fed. And il 
he was in that mood, looking for magic 
fruits and weeds to make the world 
different for himself, then archangels and 
the threat of hell couldn't have kept 
him out of that garden, nor from making 
erous friends among its sn 
people are just like that. 
always been a hopeful sign for me 
that with all the millions of pounds of 
illegal drugs that get peddled on the 
streets of America every year, the 
ists who sell them seem much 
interested in т 
than in poisoning them. 

How do I know this is a pou 
reichen: 

Trust me,” she said. 

She dug the hash out of the bag and 
it really was blond—white, almost—and it 
smelled like cinnamon. It was about the 
size and shape of a Three Musketeers bar 
and had a little chunk gone out of one 
corner. When I said that it looked like 
mice had been at the Lebanese cheese, 
she told me to think of it as her com 
sion. Then she suggested a walk through 
snowy Lincoln Park so that I could try a 
litle of each, because, she said, satisfac 
tion was guaranteed, and she would take 
it back if I didn't like it. 

I told her that I worried about the 
police, but she said not to, that it was too 
cold to get busted. “You goddamn near- 
ly have to fire-bomb a pig's car to get 
him out of it when it’s this cold. Spring 
and summer you got to be a little cool, 
never in winter.” Then she paused a 


8 


more 
olf 


second and said, "I never thought about 
‚ but California must be awful. 


into the park at LaSalle 
and Gretchen lit the first j 
the statue of Ben Frank! 

"He wouldn't approve,” I said, point- 
ing up. 
uck him,” she said, and we started 
north through the deserted snow fields 
of the park. 

Somewhere near a statue of Н. 
Christian Andersen, she told me 0 
she'd been a kid on the South Side, that 
her mother dental nurse and a 
stone Virgo, that her father was a Great 
Lakes tugboat captain and that she I 
gotten her first piece of ass in a forest 
preserve near O'Hare airport when she 
was 18 years old. 

She hadn't seen her father in years, she 
said, and even when she was young, he 
hadn't been around much. There wer 
long jobs on the lakes, like the dredging 
of the St. Lawrence Seaway, and when he 
was home, out of the bitter wind and the 
company of seamen, he was drunk and 
timidly mean, which Gretchen guessed 

vas the reason she couldn't get into 
booze. She said her mother had be 
using Benzedrine ever since she could 
remember and that she wa wful 
woman who had pussy-whipped her hus- 
band out of being an artist. Maybe a 


She said she'd been a Bunny in the 
Playboy Glub-Hotel until sl 
went out with a guest and was fired, 
druple Leo, that she 
couldn't s ng alone for even an 
hour and that she just wanted to be 
happy: not powerful, not rich, not pret- 
tier than she was already. Just happy. 

We were standing near Schiller and 
not far from Shakespeare now, at the 
head of the concourse that ends at the 
Lincoln Park Conservatory doors. It's a 
great plant house that I had been in 
olten, straight and stoned, to look at the 
big palms and rich ferns and other 
planis. 1 was stoned now because we had 
finished the joint and it seemed 10 be 
the same great stuff we had smoked that 
night in the cab. I was about to sug 
gest that we go imo the glaserooled. 
junglehumid conservatory and smell the 
differences among the orchids, but my 
fear stopped me. It was always summer 
in there, I thought, and I was afraid ıl 
old guard who stood at the door might 
pick today to give me and my Bonw 
bag the junkies’ rush and put us up 
inst one ivy-covered wall or another. 
So I told Gretchen, with some horticul- 
tural detail, about the trip and she said, 
“Good dope, huh?" 

We were near the bronze Carl von 
Linné, the father of modern botany, 
when she took out a hash pipe and loaded 


Мое _ 
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PLAYBOY 


agg other lies about other р 


it with a chunk olf the little brick. 
Wait till you taste Uris.” she said. 
no way going to be able to 


ge the quality of the fucking hash 
after that joint,” 1 told her while she lit 
the pipe. 

Never mind, let me tell you how 
they get th said, "aud I will 
tell you t I never lie to 
friends. First of all, this is pollen, not 


resin like the black stuff, and it comes 
from Lebanon, And what they do is let 
the hemp plants get heavy with the 
pollen, so it's jux about to drop, and 
then they get naked. aud. wet themselves 
down and run through the fields until 
their bodies are all goiden with the stull. 
‘Then they come back and scrape the 
pollen off with sticks and then press it 
to blocks. Fantastic, hul 1 told her it 
was a nice piece of dope mythology 
whether it was true or not. 7I swear, it’s 
true,” she said. 

1 asked her where she got it and she 
hinted that she and the Chemist had 
Mob connections, which is what all drug 
pushers with dreams of empire will tell 


last summer's 
ght.” she said. “Well, when the 
shipment that finally broke it came in, 


certain gentlemen m 
thirty pounds of sceds from it. Now, if 
you can imagine how much marijuana it 
takes to get thirty pounds of seeds, you 
will sce that I do not fuck around. with 
the small stuff.” 

"Did you know that you live very n 
the street that Bugs Moran lived on?" 
1 asked her. She looked B ppily sur- 
prised. “You're only a couple of blocks 
from his old a 

We were st 


de me a present of 


Gocthe , 
ud although his name is pronounced 
“Go-hee” in Chicago, his statue is big. 
gest and handsomest of all. “Too bad 
they don't have a statue of Bugs in this 
beautiful park.” 1 said. 

“Now. that" she 


Ww, 


оц 


use | thi 


memorial, 
dude was 
it 


definitely be 
ibis one. 


E 


Then she sid she had to split and 
headed west up Diverse: 
“Maybe Fl] come 

work,” I yelled. 

h. the fucking bunch of perverts 
fired me. TH phone you,” she called Баск. 
s two weeks belore I saw her 

Wayne's, and she didn't phone 
хо say that she w ig. As шпа 
out, she wasn't in shape enough to use 
push-button phone. Wayne and 1 
uing in his living room—my bed- 


Wb sce 


you at 


coni 


were 
room—around midnight. dr 
He was also gett 
Mark bourbon and I was imo the Leb 


ch 
jaces and other 


anese cheese. We were telling с 


times, and Merle Haggard was on the 
stereo singing Who Do I Know in Dal- 
das? lor about the fifth time, As a rule, 
ТИ take the Beach Boys or the Grateful 
Dead way before country, but Wa 


the hash and the good talk, I was 
to like it. 

Wayne is generally thou 
red-neck, but the truth is that he is 
about 50 percent Gull Coast good old 
hoy. The other hall went 10 a Nid 
western college to study economics and 
philosophy and enjoys latenight conver- 
sations about what is real in the uni 
vere, North or South. His apart 
Dixie barroom. 
A courthousesized rebel Hag hangs on 
Wb postersized pictures of 


Robert E. Lee and Stonewall Jackson on 
another. His Vietnam combat helmet 
has a dying philodendron planted in it 


and hangs lrom a cenual doorjamb. and 
the green beret he very occasionally puts 


ou sits on one of the sterco speakers 


Navy dress sword that leans 
м а closet, а collec table made 
and а high-powered 


bow and arrow with a camouflage case. 
In the whole apartment, there is only 
one concession to hip America and that 

mistake: In trying to buy a fluores 
lor his bathroom. he gor a 
id. which he installed 
nyway, and which gave all the porce 
lain an verie glow. 

1 had told him about Gretchen, that I 
thought she was amazingly together. c 
sidering the life she kd, that she wa 
funny and pretty and that he would lik 
her. But two weeks had. been a longer 
ne for her than for me, and that night 
she came through the door with the skin 
tightly drawn across her Lace, her eyes 
тей and one of them drooping, and her 
red-cord pants. which she still had on, 
gier than ever. 
^m sorry, man," she said as soon 
she was in. “I just don't think D cum 
walk any more and 1 got a lot of money 
or. me and Fm afraid of getting ripped 
oll, you know. If I could just rest a 
Mugs o 

1 introduced Wayne. She looked ас 
him. then smiled and said, “You're so 
лупе the Bear.” Then she 
arted coughing and chokir 
We got her onto the couch and she 
id that she had just delivered some coke 
to a Lake Shore high-rise a few blocks 
y. tha speeding lor 
two days come down 
behind some Secomal she'd just take 

“I didn't think . . . 1 would . . . come 


aw: 


down this... last" she said and began 
coughing again, 

“How many downers, Gradi?” I 
asked in a slow, dear voice, “Are you 


O.D2^ 
head was propped up 
of the couch very close to 


one end 
duck-decoy 


lamp on the end table. She opened her 
eyes for a second, saw the mallard head 
and said, "Oh... hi . . . how are you? 
-.- Me, too,” then closed her eyes and 
waned. 


Are you gonna die, Gretchen?" 1 
asked her. "Shall E get an ambulance 
Wayne anding with the boule 


the fi 


evidence it was casier 10 survive 
snakes, m nd the V.C. man it 
was to live in the city. D had begun 


running around like a medic without 
wdages (1 decided to make some col- 
fec). Gretchen just there making 
bad noises, trying to die of wounds we 
couldnt see. About the time I got water 
boiling. someone else was at the door 
1 Wayne called out that he'd answer it 

When I got back to the living room, 
Wayne the Bear was standing with all 
is sixodd feet and 225 pounds across 
the doorway, nearly toc to toe with a 
tall, grubby, long-haired kid who had 
а large mouth and was asking for 
Gretchen. Wayne just stood U 
square for Makers Mark, а y 
bouncer, and the kid was sa 
sce her, man, Em a friend, really, and I 
got to get her out of here.” 

Gretchen rolled her hi 
ic сус open and said, 
let him in, you guys. OK 

Wayne did, and Lips was almost to 
the couch when he began to notice the 
amd got an "Oh, sit^ 100k on his 
ace. "Come on. Gretchen," he said, "we 
gotta go now. The Chemist is gonna kill 
you, Get up. . .." 

He was shaking her and she was mam- 
bling that she was too tired, that she just 
med to rest for a minute, and. then 
p her face. 
on." I said. “TI 
ny good. She's crashin 


sis 


1. 
dh, it's old Lips. 


Us not 


саһ, well, she crashes a lot. but 1 
got to get her home," he said and 
slapped her some more. 


Wayne spoke from the corner now, 
where he was sitting with the bourbon 
between his knees, picking his mails with 
a mammoth pocketknife he " 

Ah, her any 
more, like he said.” He had on his 
thickest redneck accent and the same 
side of the Haggard album had stated 
replaying. 


ybe you better not h 


said Lips, “L got to do some 


thi ‚what am 1 dor 
Look. Im making some coffee," | 
told him, "and if we get her in sl 


ve her, or 


you can I {we don’t, she can 
stay hese. 
o, no she can't" he said, shaki 
his head. trying t0 watch Wayne 

talk 10 me at the same time, “She's got 
lot of money on her that isn't hers and 
I don't know how many downers she 
popped and we have to split.” 
Why don't you just relax 


nd 


ute, 


Robert Hunter 

tells why 100 Pipers 
mellows its whiskies 
in aged casks. 


It was only two years ago that 
Robert Hunter completed his 
| apprenticeship at our cooperage in 


M Paisley. 


М It takes five years to learn the 
time-honored cooper's trade. Five 

years at the side of a journeyman, 

| preserving and restoring the old 

sherry casks in which we age the 
whiskies that become 100 Pipers. 


“Old barrels preserve the flavor 


M as the whisky mellows,” Robert 


explains. “New wood steals some of 
the taste, by absorbing it. An 
intolerable waste of something 
precious! 

Robert takes great pride in his 
mastery of ancient tools like the 
scullop and downright. And in the 
knowledge that he isamong a 
handful of artisans entrusted with 
the treasured butts and casks and 
barrels that store our rare whiskies 
during their years of maturation. 


Pride. When it comes 
@ to making a classic Scotch, 
we know of no finer quality 
а тап can have. 


— 
Seagrams 
100 PIPERS 


SCORCH Wis 
M 
ы 


100 PIPERS - BLENDED SCOTCH WHISKY + 86 PROOF 
SEAGRAM DISTILLERS COMPANY. NEW YORK 


Its made proudly. 
Drink it that way. 


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332 


instead?” said Wayne. 

1 had Gretchen propped about half- 
way up now and was trying to get 
instant coffee into her. I burned her 
mouth, she spit and flopped back down, 
‘Come on, Gretch, you're scaring me,” 1 
told her. 

Lips asked if he could piss, Wayne 
said yes, and the kid went past the bow 
and arrow, under the helmet flowerpot 
and into the bathroom. Wayne looked 
me and shook his head. "She's just 
barely breathing," I said. 
then from the bathroom 
ош, man, far fucking out.” 
Lips had turned on the light. “Тоо 
fucking much. Shit, look at the label on 
the shaving cream, wl trip, m 

“I's a mistake," Wayne yelled from 
^] was trying to get a fluores- 


we 


100 far out. 
looks like the 
aurora borealis; it's beautiful." 

Just finish wha doing and 
come on outa there,” shouted Wayne. 

"E will, man,” came the answer, "I 
will: it’s so far out. 

Wayne was wying to look mean, but I 
was laughing, and Lips came back into 
the room zipping his fly and 
“That's something else in ther 
then he bent down to Gretchen again 
and started to whine in her car. "Come 
on, Gretch, you gotta be in court tomor- 
row and if you fuck up, the Chemist is 
gonna stomp your ass... . Wake up, you 
fucking downer freak 

“What's she going to court for" I 

ked him. 
“It’s just possession, it's nothing, but 
she's got to show up. Fucking . . . wake 
up, you stupid bitch . . . how do you get 
so fucked up?” 

“АЙ you have to do is speed for three 
days" J started to say. 

“Ie ain't the speed,” he stid, "E been 
speeding for three days—shit, | been 
speeding for eight years—that's not what 
fucks you up: 

Wayne looked up from his fingernails. 
“A man would have to be some kind of 
fool to put that stuff in his body on a 
regular basis.” 
bener than that" said Lips, 
ting to the bottle in Wayne's lap. 
пупе gave him a Killer eye and didn't 
say anything. I rolled Gretchen over and 
d her if she wanted to go. 

“No,” she said, then, "yes... no... I 
have to, man... .” I got some of the cold 
coffee down her and she gagged but 
swallowed it. Then Lips lifted her to 
her feet and she fell. Then I helped 
him lift her again, he checked her pock- 
ets lor the money and half dragged her 
to the door. She was trying to apologize 
again, but it wasn't coming out. One of 
her eyes wouldn't open at all now, and 
as the two of them crashed down the 
stairs, J wondered if she was going to 
die in the taxi. 


“Fetchin’ Gretchen,” said Wayne alter 
they'd gone. "И she's together, my 
friend, you and 1 had better talk about 
the nature of what it is to be apart. 

Over the last part of the winter things 
seemed to get better for Gretch. She 
beat her possession charge—easily, she 
told me, because you can still buy a cop 
in Chicago if you show up at the court- 
house with cash. "You have to pay them 
to lic or to tell the truth, whichever 
is more favorable to your case,” she said 
She had bought a lie and it had cost $50. 

And she had a new job, as a bar 
waitress and substitute dancer at опе 
of the Mob-owned North Side topless 
joints. The tips were good, and lor a 
Chicago girl who'd grown up knowing 
how to dip conventioneers, there were 
exuas. One night, for instance, a drunk- 
en restaurateur who was grab- 
bing at her ass and calling her 
give her a $100 bill, thinking it w: 
ten, She made quick change for a ten 
and stuck the hundred in her leotard for 
when it rained, which, she told me, it 
was doing more and more often in her 
life. When J asked her why, she showed 
me the inside of her arm: It was covered 
with the little dit dit dits that she called 
her needlework. I asked her if it was 
downers again and she said no, that she 
and one ol the other dancers, whom she 
called Taxie , had gone from skin 
popping co muscle shooting то mainlin- 
ing all in two months backstage, be- 
tween sets. She said the owners left the 
stuli around, which ity and nice 
t the same time, and that she didn't 
know if she was hooked, because she 
hadn't really stopped long enough to 
find out and was afraid to. She said the 
s pissed, but not enough. to 
have her quit the job, and that she was 
pretty sure she was strung out. Then she 
ked me again if 1 wanted to try some 
nd 1 told her no ag; 
"Oh, Bishop,” she said, "it's not as 
bad as you think and there's no high 
like it in the universe to get you through 
an eight hour shift . . . of anything. You 
just only heard the bad stuff about junk." 

“It's the Devil," I told her. 

She called me a fucking Catholic and 
stuck her tongue out at mc. 

She los the job a couple of weeks 
later and the Chemist ru atch of 
speed he was cooking, so she started to 
call me about twice a week to see il I 
wanted to buy 
price got lower 
talked and although I had plenty, 1 
эшпей buying. I had moved in with 
Sharon again and our new, tender rela- 
i з straining over the subject 
of Gretchen, anyway, and the worst mo- 
ments were always around the vegetable 
crisper of the refrigerator, which was 
full of about three pounds of marijuana. 


a 


But Sharon's humor is mighty when it is 
not on the blink, and she kept saying 
things about us getting beriberi or bust- 
€ room for some fresh 
Пий. I promised to sell some and cat the 
rest, Then I told her that I was getting off 
retchen's case, anyway, because it was 
starting to make me nervous. 

The next time Gretchen called, 1 
asked her what she was doing with all 
the money she was getting from me. 
you're doing with the 


unlikely and that I 
going to have to cool it for a while 
id she said, in a yowasked-for- 
it tone. “I'll tell you what I do with the 
bread. Anyway, I'll tell you what I did 
yesterday with fifty dollars. 1 got up in 
the morning feeling very fucked up and 
tore my crib apart looking for a bag of 
junk that 1 thought was left over—but it 
was gone. So I walked real fast down to 
Broadway and hitched a ride about 
twenty blocks north to a friend’s place, 
ave him the money and took the stuff, 
but he was being a shit and wouldn't let 
me do it up there, even though I was in 
a hurry. Then I went back out onto 
Broadway and found a Wonder Bread 
truck. There's a little platform on those 
trucks and you can hang on and there's 
a big sign about eye level that says, 
"Wonder Bread helps build strong 
bodies twelve ways 1 was going to tell 
the driver that Га found number thir- 
teen, but I chickened out. I wanted to 
get home fast. anyway, so I decided to 


let the bastard find out for himself. I 
mean, 1 can't go around saving the 


whole fucking city," she said, and then 
laughed as if it weren't funny, 
How do you feel now?" I asked her. 

“Great,” she said. "Don't be mad at 
me. 

The first smell of spring in Chicago 
s dog shit melting out from under the 
icc and preserves it for the 
winter. But the edge goes off the wind, 
people cam go out casually again, and 
do, and by Gretchen's theory, p 
in the drug community should blossom 
like a jacaranda 

І hadn't her for about two 
montlis when I ran into her in front of 
Woolworth's on Broadway. She didn't 
look good, but she didn't look bad, 
either, lor a junkie, and I told her that 
"m not a junkie anymore, Bishop,” 
she said almost brightly. “1 got hepatitis 
again and was in the hospital for six 
weeks and I kicked.’ 

Great,” I said. 

"Yeah, and it wasn't bad at all. I 
hardly had any pains or cramps, which 
just goes to prove how shitty Chicago 
smack is—lucky for me. Now I'm back 
on speed and coke and grass and 1 feel 
fine, just fine, except my doctor says 


now tl 


see 


“My hunch is that you'll find them either at the Grand Hotel 
or the new Bethlehem. Both have excellent mangers.” 


333 


PLAYBOY 


334 


that my liver is gonna qu 
stay away from downers. But I'm di 
pretty good; give myself a gold star.” 

"Then she asked me why I hadn't come 
over to meet the Chemist and have a 
nice joint amd I told her I would later 
that afternoon. 

How's your supply?” she asked. 
“Jesus, Im down to two and a half 
pounds.” I told her. “Goddamn near 
cold turkey." 

Gretchen had talked. about the Chem- 
ist oft and on over the time ГА known 
her. He was a Chicago kid, too, but had 
grown up in a North Shore high-rise 

i shoelace tycoon, 


because his father was 
The Chemist stood to inherit all the 
money if he could only outlive Dad. She 
said he had a degree in chemistry from 
the University of Chicago and had been 
taking speed ever since he was 17 years 
old, 57^ ) pounds. A doctor had 
started him on dict pills then, and now, 
at the age of 31, he was up to nearly 
gram a day of pure Methedrine when he 
had it, He had a tion as а ladies 
man and even said that he would never 
go to jail, that he'd run first rather than 
be locked up with all those other men, 
but Gretchen said he didn't fuck much, 


because all the speed kept him from 
geuing it up. He and Gretchen had 
been together for almost three years, 


and despite the fact that he beat her and 
s a bum sometimes, she said, almost 
everyone who knew him thought he was 
а genius, including hei 

When I knocked, h 
just a crack, asked me if I was the Bishop 
and when I nodded, he swung it open all 
way and said. "Welcome to the fac 
tory.” He was almost short and almost 
fat and had black hair that was trying 
to be long but was mostly tangled. and 
even though 1 mulled the peace hand- 
shake he gave me, he kept babbling, 
‘Come on in welcome, have 
seat and we'll get cool. 

The place was small and cluttered, 
like pawnshops are cluttered, with knick- 
knacks taken їп wade for dope from 
speed freaks and junkies. In one corner 
of the living room there was а beaut 
but unstrung sitar, and on a collec t 
was a carved chess set and beside that a 
collectic ique prescription bottles 
from the ld days of patent medi- 


wi 


opened the door 


broth 


of ani 
ood 


cine that listed on the labels ingredients 
There were 


Ке сосн and Сапта! 
ed-glass panels leaning 
"dows, some syringes lying loose on 
fine old railroad 
, and in an alcove that 
neighborhood play lot 
next door were the tools of his noto- 
riety: glass beakers, test tubes, corks, 
a Bunsen burner, rubber tubing, pots 
foil, rubber 
x of 
ed chemist's 


t the 


gloves, paper towels, a 
and a handsome old glasscı 
balance, 


Gretchen was in the other room but 
yelled that she'd be right out, and I sat 
on an inflatable couch and asked the 
Chemist how business was. 

retty fucked up right now, you 
know,” he said. “Gretchen just got out 
of the hospital and I haven't had any 
money to buy chemicals and somebody 
stole my bike—I had a Harley— 
you know, just I g ош, 
time till I can score some ir 
He was lighting a joint now and passed 
it to me. "But | think tomorrow this 
Cat's going to front me some stulf to 
make a batch,” he said. E tr 
the joint to him. “Nah, th 
been speeding all night and day 
not ready to come down, you go ahead, 
Wt really like that stuff, anyway. Do 
t some speed wl 
g to be dyna 
‘re welcon 
10 speed,” 1 said. 
"he was talk 
an AM rock'n'roll disc jockey, 
but oh well, most people can, lucky for 
me. In this country everybody's into 
speed. Collee and cigarettes, you dig? 
It’s like the all-American diug. helps 
you run fast, ilk fast, stay up late, 
whatever you want, write the big book, 
make superfantastic flying machines, you 
know, zoom. . , ." 


pure white, 


Gretchen came imo the room, sat on 
an inflatable chair and said. “Then why 
don't you put it into red, white and 


os it i 
hop." 


blue c 
hello, Bi 

“Шз, X he said and hen 
turned to me. "Il you knew some of tlie 
people who are my regular customers— 
you think they're all wasted, right? Well 
ГИ tell you, I started making the stuff 
out of like a personal need and I had to 
search the literature, ‘cause if is any 
thing to do with control of the mind 
they like bury it deep. But when 1 
found the formula I all of a sudden had 
friends who live very fancy and work 
downtown. Ha, if only Daley knew 

I had done about half the joint now 


s so fucking patrio 


should,” 


and it was coming on. 1 passed it to 
Gretchen and asked the Chemist what 
was in it. "You noticed, yeah, а litile 


THE does wonders for bad grass and 
that's all there is right now. But I can get 
you some THC if you want it, take your 
head өй" 
ybe,” 1 suid. 
Well, 1 only offer it because you said 
you can't get into speed. 
“Don't get on him about not being 
into speed," said Gretchen from the cor- 
“L think it's the worst fucking drug 
there is.” 
“Oh, yeah, let's hear your speech, you 
were only strung out on junk, right? 
“1 only got out because 1 we 
10 work in the wrong place. All the 
chicks 
He 


ne 


û there were shooting, 
sked me for the joint and I 


nd then he said, 
ig on her for using 


passed it to Gretchen 
"Listen, I'm not gett 
the мш. Anybody can put anything they 
want into their bodies as far as I'm 
concerned. But you don't know her, 
man, she cannot be trusted. Shit, I'm the 
one who tried 10 get her on methadone, 
because it’s just very hard to deal when 
in the house.” 

your smack 


you have a junki 
“1 only 


pinched one 
she said. 

"Yeah, that’s only because when I 
have it I keep it locked up. What about 
downers, huh? Can 1 trust you with 
them around? * He tumed 10 me 
again. “Опе man, I had fifty 
downers that Id promised to someone 
and she came out of the hospital after 
her hepatitis and so like they were 
going to be the worst thing in the world 
for her and 1 wouldn't let her have any. 
І went out and came back a few hours 
tater and there were thirty pills gone, 1 
couldn't believe it.” 
wasn't intentional.” 
"b remember taking 


time, 


said 
four, 


that’s all 
“How can you not remember taking 


thirty downers? 

“It was an unconscious move, because 
1 didn't take any water with them, man 
. „ . I Td been trying to КШ myself, 1 
would have. . . . 

"Then I called the fire department 

‚по... 1 cleaned the place шм... 
and then called the firemen and they 
пе and saved our little gi 
id said I had to leave. 


Gretchen. 
“Oh. yeah? 
Yeah.” I said. "Don't you ever worry? 

“Not really,” he said. “I've been bust- 
cd а few times, but I've never been 
indicted even. Anyway, I get like vibra- 
tions when a bust is coming, like the 
ura that comes before epileptic attacks, 
Let me put it this way, and I don't 
know if it’s m bullshit or not: I 
have avoided many more busts than Гуе 
been involved in because of those vibes 
You can just feel it coming, 

The doorbell rang and scared the shit 
out of me. It was like a rush, I thought 
drug rush 


later, more powerful than an 
Га ever had and different only in that it 
left me straight instead of high. I said 
goodbye and then nearly bolted out the 
door and down the stairs. There was a 
uy with a pizza on the front porch and 
he said he was looking for dh Lfloor 
rear, 

"Kar out" 1 


told п. and the 


walked home and passed out. 
About a week liter, around a warm 


midnight, my doorbell rang, but wh 


buzzed the downstairs door open 
then waited on the landing, no onc 


me. 1 had heard footsteps, so I walked 


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down ло the second-floor landing and 
found Gretchen sitting huddled in a cor- 
sobbing. I stood for a moment lis- 
g for other footsteps, but there 
so I went over to her and 
t to ask what was wrong. She raised 
her head out of her hands; her face was 
soaked with tear ler eyes were 
almost swollen shut 

Гуе got cancer," she 
God, Im going to dic." 

1 squatted beside her and waited, be- 
use she was crying harder now. I waite 
for minutes and then slowly she beg, 
10 put words between sobs. \ docior. 


and 


PLAYBOY 
а 


sobbed. “Oh, 


That afternoon. She had thought it was 
hepatitis again. Cancer, he said. Liver. 
cervix, some other internal organs. He 


Was sure and w 
wouldn't let him 


d to operate, No, she 
She knew about these 


things. He wouldn't say how long. “What 
did I do? Why?" she asked me. "Why 
md then weeping took her ag 


I walked her down the stairs and 
outside and then along an alleyway to a 

| back yard behind my buildi 
There were no chairs and so we sat next 
h other on the brick patio. She 
bag of grass and some papers in 
her purse and without saying anything. 
and without a pause in her ying, she 
took them out and put them in front of 
me. 1 began rolling joints and we smoked 


perhaps six or seven in the next two 
hours, but I never gor high. Now a 


then, when she stopped cry 
would t. nd E would answe 


from sounding piti- 
1 had some cancer in 
hier ba You know those scars I have?” 
when she was young but that they 
had operated and it had been successful. 
She said she had kept the Chemist up as 
Jong as she could but that finally he 
coulda’t take any more and had passed 
out with a needle in his arm. She began 
g again and said that she was sorry 
10 bother me 
I don't remember the things 1 said, 
although I know 1 talked some. I re 
member mostly that my mind was r 
mg and that 1 couldn't stop it lı 
even the most bizarre and horrible 
thoughts, I thought the whole ıl 
absurd, and then I thought it funn: 
wondered how 1 had come to know this 
pathetic person and wished 1 never had. 1 
thought of it as a trick I was alraid lor 
а while that it would change me too 
much, and then 1 felt my ass sore on the 
bricks and w. 1 it wouldn't change 
me at all. 1 remember thinking that 
pretty women are uglier than the dead 
when they come apart. Aud 1 was pissed. 
L had kept myself at arm's length trom 
Gretchen's black eyes and hepatitis and 
needle marks by saying to myself that 
people (me, Gretchen, Bugs Moran) 
lived where they wanted to live; d 
336 they chose their drugs and went on 


choosi 
the 
deserved. it. 


g them. She had always said that 
mist never beat her unless she 
And T had waited for the 
police to find her and knew that I could 
handle that, and maybe even help when 
the time са | still be safe. But 


пе 


now ] was only crazy—afraid lor my 
own life—and 1 didnt have a thought 
in two hows worth thinking and I 


didn't say а word worth saying, and cx- 
cept for one phrase of hers, 1 will prob- 
ably forget most of the night and most of 
the fe: “Oh, Cod," she said in one of 
those moments, "I been busted by the 
stars. Oh. Craig, I am so scared.” 

Just before I walked her home, she 
took a syringe out of her purse and а 
vial amd shot Nembutal into her irm. 
She did it slowly and explained cach 
; сигеу, and I listened спе 
fully. She said it would help her sleep, 
and by the got her to her door she 
was crying less often and her eyes were 
uying to dose, I kissed her good night 
and walked hon 

Six days Inter, in the middie of the 
afternoon, the Chemist put on a leather 
jacket, walked out of the bui 
Roscoe to Broadway and tuned south. 
Greichen had taken two Seconals and 
had fain down for а пар when six Chì- 
cago marcorissquad oflicers broke the 
glass in the apartment's lobby door with 
а sledge hammer and charged up the 
stairs with their guns drawn. They 
crashed through what they thought was 
Gretchen and the Chemist’ 
nounced their raid loudly: 
iwo women, both past ti 
of afternoon. television, and some 
confusion. and tempt to comiort 
d old ladies, they crossed the 
broke down the second. door and 
me got it right. Gretchen heard 
nothing and said ker that she awoke 
with a al at her head and 
someone behind it saying that she was 
under arrest and reciting her rights to 


1 


step to ıı 


They founa 
1 front 


the frig! 
hall, 
this t 


retchen knew the sergeant who led 


the raid—he had busted several of her 
friends—and. she him 

ther Flanagen bc what she 
called his “phony pig paternal act.” 


While the five others began. collecting 
evidence—popping the inflatable fur 
ture, emptying drawers, tearing the bed 
10 pieces, checking the toilet tank, kitch- 
en boules and the refrigerator—he 
asked her where the Chemist was. She 
told him she didn't know. He told her 
that if she'd turn the Chemist in, he'd 
let her go, She said she wanted a 

Outside, a group of about 
some of them members of а gung called 
the Roscoe Street Blues, had gathered 
across the street. They spotted the Che 
ist turning onto Roscoe and a couple of 
them yelled at him thar Greich 
being busied. He took olf rum 
toward Broadway and disappeared. 


was 


back 


When the five were through search- 
ing, and whe ап was con- 
vinced ıl would tell him 
noth y packed the evidence—the 
liboratory equipment, some chemicals, 
heroin, а hypodermic needle, some co 
caine, grass, depressants, stimulants and 
5400 in cash—and left 

The sueet kids booed and hissed as 
they put Gretchen imo a squad car and 
drove olf to book her at the Ith and 
Stare Street station, 

The Chemist called me at about five 
ollice, 

s voice was full 
nent of someone 
d missed and 


that afternoon. from. his lawyer 
ng. H 


where he was hidi 
of th 
who has be 


nervous exi 
en shot at 


bail for Gretchen. I told him I'd try, but 
that it would have to be the next day 
Then I asked him if he was going to let 
chen take his bust and he said he 
wasn't worried about it, because the raid 
d out on a bad warrant 
they'd never convict her. Then 
1 an angry and exasperated bac 
voice that I took to be the 
v, "We don't know that yet.” 
The next day it was plain that the 
police thought they had a case. They 
were making the whole thing a publicity 
bast. The television news carried f 
stories that showed the police standing 
in front of a table strewn with the 
confiscated goods. They were calling it 
the largest North Side raid of the year 
nd were adding that the Chemist, who 
was still at large, “was the biggest pro- 
ducer of hallucinogens and stimulants in 


the New Town area, extending along 
Broadway and Clark Street between Ad- 
dison and Wrightwood Avenue.” The 


route of the Wonder Bread truck. 
The Tribune carried a story under 
the head! UCINOGENS FOUND IN 
ram” and accompanied it with а photo 
of the same table filled with glass v 
ges, bags of powder, lids of 
and bottles of chemicals. Le described 
Gretchen as a “former Rush Street go-go 
lancer" and siid that the raid culmi- 
mated a monthlong investigation. 
When 1 called the lawyer the next day. 
he said u ser at 55000 
1 then lowered to 51500 and that the 
Chemist had scraped $150 together and 
Gretchen was out. He аро said he was 
off the case and didnt know or care 
where either. Gretchen or the Chemist 
was. I asked him how Gretchen looked. 
nd hung up. 
She called two weeks later and ı 


her anything, 
the conversation 
sked her how s 


| was making 
strange, but I finally 


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PLAYBOY 


338 


was. She said she had the Chemist hid. 
den where no one could ever find him. I 
told her I didn't mean that, and she said 
that even though she didn't have a law- 
yer yet, she would just get а continuance 
on her trial. Then she said the bust was 
bad, anyway, because of the warrant. I 
asked her if she was going to dic. 

"Oh, that, no," she said, but she 
wasn't looking at me. "That doctor was 
full of shit, I don't have cancer, he was 
juse full of shit.” 

I asked her how she knew. 

“I saw another guy, another doctor, 
nd he said that it was just my liver 
you know, hepatitis, Im sorry 
about that night. I feel stupid now.” 

“Did the other doctor run tests? 

“No, he was to, but he said he 
was sure it wasn't cancer, and so I never 
went back for them. They're such a drag 
and I was being a baby about the whole 
thing. anyway, and so 1 didn't” 
‘ou're not sure.” 

Im sure,” she said in an almost 
pleading voice. “It’s bullshit. The doctor 
said he was sure it wasn't cancer, and I 
believe him. He's one of the best. He 
even said that I should sue the other 
guy for malpractice, Look, I'm sorry 
about that night, I was just really 
scared, but I'm OK. The only thing 
that’s bugging me is that I don't have a 
d T have to go 10 court 

oing to get а con- 


lawyer now 
tomorrow. Im just 
tinuance, but — 
1l come with you if you w 
Would you, oh, I'd really love. you 
for it" and she leaned over and kissed 
me. "Em just going to get a continu. 
€, but the Chemist can't come with 
me and I just don't want to go alone. It's 
n o'clock, at Twenty-sisth and Califor- 
‚ Meet me there, OK? 

After she lelt, I sat lor a while trying 
to figure out if she had cancer or not. 1 
A only her words and her tears that 
night telling me that she did, and now I 
had only her words telling me that she 
didn't. 1 wasn’t sure then, and I am not 
v it wasn't the Chemist talk- 


ing: 
tors are 
knew that, and to com 


ad. But the 


t was the worst trouble sli 


ize paper that 
т, Clerk of the 
Circuit Court of Cook County," across 
ihe top. Below that on the first four 
sheets it said, “Misdemeanor,” possession 
of a hypodermic needle (and the statute 
typed in), possession of hallucinogenic 
drugs, possession of depressant drugs, 
possession of stimulants. The next three 
с labeled “Felony” and were for pos 
e, possession of heroin 
At the bot- 
ture of the 


2 
session of coc 
nd possession of mariju 
tom of cach, below the sign 


arresting officer, it called the charges 
“Crimes against the peace and dignity of 
the people of Illinois.” 


Courts 
now 


One look at the Criminal 
Building of Cook County and you 
it could beat you. On the fagade of the 
hulking old seven-story courthouse there 
are angrylooking rams' heads, and be- 
low them the buildings name is cut in 
the Roman fashion, Out the back end of 
the place and attached to it is the Cook 
County Jail, with its gray walls and 
watchtowers. 

Up the wide stairs and through the 
big doors are two cops in the rotunda 
who stand on either side of a table and 
search everyone for guns or knives or 
bombs, 

[he cop who went through my leath- 
er bag was Latin and friendly and as he 
stuck his hand down into the purse, he 
Jooked at the ceiling and said, “You 
learn to sec with your fingers." Then he 
pulled out а package of cigarettes. “Aha, 
pollution,” he said, and then, when he 
had finished, he had me raise my hands 
while he тап his hands armpits to ankles 
quickly and defy. When he was 
through, he told me to have a nice day. 

Drug-abuse cour is a small room 
on the fourth floor and is presided over 
by Judge James A. Geocaris. Inside the 
п old bailifi watched me as I 
sat оп one of the 13 wooden benches 
that ave arranged in church rows, It is his 
job to see that you are silent, that you 
read nothing except legal documents and 
that you doodle or carve nothing on the 
old but unmarked benches. 

1 was сапу, but at ten the room began 
to fill quickly, until it was crowded with 
twice the people it was built to hold. 
They were young, mostly, and black, or 
Latin, and if white, they had long hair: 
Every one of them fit into what E imag- 
ined to be the police stercotype of a drug 
user, And the police who had ted 
them were waiting on a bench along 
one wall to give testimony. They were 
young, also, and, except for one face out 
of 12 today, they were white. 

The bailiff got a gavel ont of a locked 
filing cabinet and the clerks and stenog- 
rapher took it as a signal to move to 
their places behind the three desks 
crammed across the front of the roon 
Judge Geocaris, about 10 years old, with 
a pleasant face and light sideburns, 
came through а back door, said good 
morning to his май, changed his blue 
blazer for a black robe and took his 
chair on a raised platform behind 
table in the middle of the desks. 

"Hear уе, hear ye,” said the bailiff, 
rattling olf the archaic courtroom ў 
ber, and then, because he'd found the 
e of the court inadequate 
cused criminals, he 


ended it with a lusty “Get away from 
the door and shut up.” Then he turned 
and tried to fluff the courtroom droop 
out of the old American flag next to the 
judge: but it didn't work. 

There were 70 or so people now, 
including some lawyers and some par- 
ents, and the room was almost quiet 
as the clerk began calling cases. Single 
ton, Howard, Broadski, January, Delong, 


‘Torres, Williams, Johnson, Coleman, 
Rivera, Mitchell, Black. Some were 
called in pairs and some alone, and the 


judge asked each if he was ready for 
trial, Some asked for a continuance and 
some were tried by the judge right th 
One asked for a jury trial and a date was 
set. Some had their own lawyers, but 
most used the young, bright-faced, Mod- 
dressed public defender, who would take 
a minute to read the charges and Jook at 
the evidence, talk to the accused lor 
another ute and then defend the case 
as well its he could. 

In the first 30 minutes, 17 people 
came before the judge. Fourteen were 
charged with simple possession of n 
juana; of these, ten were acquitted 
four had their cases cc ued. 
three others were charged with posses- 
sion of heroin and two of them were 
continued. Of all 17, there was only 
one convicted. He was a 20-year-old Vier 
mam vet whose lawyer said he had те. 
turned from the war on smack but had 
kicked it now and wanted to straighten 
himself out. He pleaded guilty and the 
judge gave him a year's suspended sen- 
tence on the condition that he go to the 
state's attorneys drugabuse school for 
four months and stay out of trouble for 
12 months. 

Gretchen was late, so I went out into 
the hall and squatied against a marble 
wall to have a cigarette. Twenty or 30 
people waiting lor their cases to be 
called, or waiting for friends, had over- 
flowed into the corridor and were mill- 
ing, talking and smoking. Lawyers were 
explaining deals to ni 


opes were lighting cig from 
friends’ cigarettes and laughing and try- 
ing to be cool. A Latin next to me was 
telling a friend that he was waiting for 
someone to get the lab report on the 
drugs he'd been found with, so he could 
go to trial He said he was tired ol 
waiting on lab reports. But I didn't really 
hear one conversation: 1 heard them all 
in the echoing old hall. Nervous chatter. 

A hall hour later, Gretchen showed 
up. She was agitated about being late 
but seemed in good spirits When I 
asked her how she was, she said, d 
as I can be,” and then she asked if her 
case had been called yet. I didn't know, 
so we went in and she asked the clerk, 


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340 


who said her cise had yet to come up. 
We went and sat on a bench together 
ncar the back. 

“They almost got the Chemist yester- 
day," she said in an excited vo 
walked into a friend's place w 
nares were there, It was crazy. 


her "TE asked. 


Chemist and would have hung his ass up 
- It was another guy and the 
ys he's like a real gentl 
lor а cop. Alter he looked at the I. D. 
and believed it, and alter he found the 
Chemist clean, he just had him sit down 
ll they were through эс: use 
he didit want anybody who might have 
been coming up the stairs to be w 
The Chemist said he w: ally 
guy and, like, at one point the cop said 
10 him, "It's all a game, isn’t i? and then 

y were both laughing and talking. 
Jes just lucky he was clean." 

The bailil came over and told us to 
shut up, but as soon as he was gone she 
leaned over and said, “Flanagan just 
came in the door.” 

1 looked over at a big man who had 
the face of my stepfather at his angriest. 
He had on a black raincoat and his fists 
were full of manila file folders. He 
smiled when he saw Gretchen. 

“Shit, he’s coming over," she said. 

On his way he looked at me, slowly, up 
and down, the way only police and the 
very powerful do; then he stopped in 
front of us and said, "Hi, Gretch, how 


he 


she said, and Шеп 


turned to me. 


“Who are you?” 
friend,” I said, 
c on your own bust?” 

"No," Hold him, 

He shook his head and said, * 
Gretchen goi 
body, huh?" 

She looked as if she were going to spit 
atl 


Where's what's-his-name, Gretchen; 
Who" she asked. 

“Well, who 
heart? Wher 


“L haven't seen him in six months,” 
she said. 

He shook head again. “OK, 
Gretchen," he said. “I told you, I don't 
want you, I want the Chemist, The cook. 


Hell, you couldn't cook а pot of beans. 
Then he laughed. “L don’t know why 
you're taking this fall for him. He's a 
bum." Gretchen. didn’t answer. She was 
looking at him with a face that had 
taken a million moral lectures about bad 
nd there was a lile 
int in one of her e 

“We going to trial today?” he asked her. 

“I'm going to get a continuance,” she 
told him. 


"Good," he said. "Take 
they'll give you. Don't cut yourself thin. 
And take care of yourself, you don't 
look so good." Then hc walked away 
toward the front of the courtroom and 
the other police. 
reichen looked as if she might cry, 
round her. “I can 
anything,” she said, “but not 
1 don't have to take that shit 
from that cocksucke 

The derk called Gretchen's name and 
she went and stood before the table 
Are you ready for trial?" the judge 
asked as he flipped through the com- 
plaint pape 

No, your Honor, I 1 
1 I'd like a contin 
res been re 


and 1 put my arm 
take 


ven't got a 


still reading them, and when 
he was through, he looked up with a 
serious lace. "You better get а lawyer 
prety soon,” he said, "and well sec the 
wial date for two months from now. 
Clerk, put that down, two months; and 
let's have the next case.” 

On the way downstairs she didn't say 
anything. She had 

and was smoking it hard. I told I 
find a lawyer and she still said nothi 
I told her I'd buy her lunch, but she 
didn’t hear. When we were outside th 
building she took my arm and said, “I'm 
100 scared. 1 thought they were going to 
take me away today. The way the judge 
was looking at me, ob, shit, шап, I think 
this is it. 1 don't think I can do it.” 

I offered the lawyer again and lunch, 
but 1 felt like a kid trying to comfort an 
oid man. 
just Шор me at a friend's place, w 
you?” she said. 

1 diove her to an apartment on the 
Southwest Side and before she got out of 
the car, she said, “Don't worry, Bishop, 
VIL be all right in a few minute: 
Th mised to call the way she 


ix weeks went by and I didn't hear 
anything. Twice 1 went looking for 
Gretchen, but 1 couldn't find her. Then 
1 met Lips on Broadway. “Oh, man," he 
said, "Fm surprised you didn't hear 
The Chemist took off running, to Flor 
da, 1 think, about a month ago and 
Gretchen was very fucked about it. Now 
she’s hooked up with some guy named 
Dave who rides with the Oudaws, you 
know, the bikers, and the last I heard he 
had her locked up and was sending her 
to dance at night over on the West Side. 
1 saw her at a party a couple of weeks ago 
and she’s swearing to kill the Chemist, 
she thinks he tricked on her, she's co 


vinced.” I asked him if he knew where 
the biker lived. 
Ws up north somewhere, around 


Wi 


son, I think, I'm not sure. But she 


toll me she was splitting for Cana 

She knows they're gonna convict her, 

man. Shit, I told her to run. I don't sce 

what else she can do now.” 
“Isshe sick?” | asked. n. 

I don't know, man, I 

She's just all fucked up. 
А week later 1 got 


call from hei 


said she couldn't talk, and about a 
ute later a male voice i 
started shout 


the background 
"Get the fuck olf the 
She whispered that she was 
ht, then she 


telephone. 
ng to 


I heard 
1 with a 


The trial date passed 
nothing. Then I got a post 


Jake on it from somewhere around 
Ottawa. anadas OK," it sai "but 
better. Love, Gretchen 


o months went by 
phone call. 

Im back,” sh 
money fast." 

I told her to meet me iu а Walton 
Street bar that afternoon, and about two 
o'dock she did. She had on dark glasses 
when she came in, 10 cover two black 
eyes, and her lower jaw was off to one 
side. 

“WI 
asked her, 

“Well...” she said, “I'm not so good. 
David took off, you know—that son of a 
bitch—and 1 skipped court.” 

"Why did you come back? 

“I was lonely, that’s all, and I got sick 
again. Do you have the money; 

I told her yes and then asked her 
where she was living, and with whom. 

“With one of the Outlaws,” she said. 

“Did he do that?" I asked about her 
jaw. 

"Yeah, because I ran away, but I can’t 
tell you any more, 1 just need the mor 
у" Then she told me that she'd been 
ir. the hospital for two days, because of 
her liver 


md 1 got a 


said, "and I need some 


happened, how are you?” 1 


again, but that she'd run out 
when the doaor said he wanted to do 

biopsy. I asked her if she was on any- 
thing and she said she was taking a litle 


heroin for some pain she was having 
but that she wasn’t strung out. But the 
top of her thumb and all down the side 
of her wrist were covered. with poke 
holes that were tying to heal but never 
got time. 

At one point she went into her purse 
for a cigarette and I saw a gun. 

“What the hell is that for?” I asked her. 

“It's legal,” she said 

“Nothing's legal for you, Gretchen, 
1 said. 
"E really have to go, man,” she said. 
'm sorry,” and she started crying. “I 
can't tell you anything, I need the 
money, that’s all. Please, give me the 
id let me go. 
nd she left without saying 


1 did, 
she'd call, and she hasn't. 


CHAUNCEY ALCOCK 


“Apple cider?” Chauncey inquired. 
Something like that,” she nodded 
and sat down close to him. “Now, tell 


1 about yourself, boy.” 
ıs born approximately seventeen 
years ago in the home in which I now 
dwell on West Ninety-sccond Stree 
the lad recited readily. "My father was a 
streeicar motorman, unfortunately. de- 
pitated many years ago in a collision 
with a beer truck near Madison Square. 
My mother sufiers from dropsy of the 
left foot and 1 to our scant in- 
come from my deceased father’s pension 
by—" 


пи 


add 


ady Angela said, somewhat 
angrily. “What do you do for fun?” 

I attend the cinema occasionally,” 
Chauncey reported. “I have seen Snow 
White and the Seven Dwarfs three times 
and The Sound of Music twice. 1 also 
read a great deal, preferring educational 
tomes such as Perverted Behavior in 
Crustaceans and The Reproductive Cy- 
cle of Peonies. I also" 

“Don't you have any 
Lady Cockbum interrupted 
* Chauncey said 
and blush- 
am too young for such 


girlfriends?” 


down his 


boy," Lady Angela said 


(continued from page 15 


warmly, putting her hand upon his 
song thigh and moving it upward. "I 
can tell you're —" 

She stopped suddenly. Hcr mouth 
opened and the monocle fell from her 
nerveless eye. 

“What have we here?” she inquired 
incredulously. "What have we here, 
boy?" 


was kind to me" 
usen’s delivery boy said modestly, 
his eyes stil] turned downward, the clar- 
et deepening in his fair checks. 

Lady Cockburn replaced her fallen 
monode in her left eye with trem- 
bling fingers. Then suddenly, without a 
by-your-leave, she unzipped Chauncey's 
trousers and leaned forward to peer at 
his Root of Heaven. 

“Good show!” she cried. “Jolly good 
show!” 


Nature 


She rose abruptly, strode to the record 
player and turned up the volume. 


“Do you recognize that song?" she 
whispered. 

“Tip Toe Through the Tulips” 
Chauncey suggested. 


No, I'm afra 
led Jealousy. 


1 not, boy. It’s a tango 


“It is not suggestive music, is it, 
ma'am?” the cleanhearted lad inquired 
anxiously. 


"Not at all,” she assured him, “It’s a 
merry tunc. Would you care to dance? 

“I fear I do not possess the skills o£ 
ballroom dancing." the youth replied 
gravely. "Hence, any attempt" 

"Come," Lady Cockburn said, throw- 
ing wide her arms, “I will teach you.” 

Unwilling to offend any customer of 
Feldhausen’s Drugstore, Chauncey rose 
to his feet, still in his unzipped state, and 
attempted to curve his right arm lightly 
and politely about Lady Cockburn’s 
waist, just as he had seen it donc in a 
television. commercial warning of the 
horrors of “wetness.” But to his surprise, 
milady wound his arms about her hips 
so that his hands rested on her haunches. 
She then encircled his neck with her arms 
and pressed close to him. 

“The F үг" she murmured 

“And now what must I do?” the lad 
queried. 

“Just move." 

“In which direction 

“Any direction. Bend your knees a 
little. Take a step forward. Then a step 
back. In time to the music.” 

Chauncey Alcock had splendid musen- 
lar coordination, which he frequently 
displayed to good advantage on the 
playing field and the Chinese Checkers 


nch w 


board. Now, catching omo the “hang” 
of this diversion, he began to move 
naturally and rhythmically about the 


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the lasting gift. 


They work, always, 


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Others to $175.00 


r we fix them free! 


PLAYBOY 


room, Lady Cockburn clutched closely 
to him. 
“Am I doing this correctly?” he 


nply ripping!" she exclaimed 


as he concentrated on his dancing. she 
expertly guided him through the Mato 
Grosso 


nd tucked his engorged halberd 
glorious realm [rom which no 
returns unscathed. They con- 
their slow, sinuous movements 
айп the lady's monocle fell 


tinued 
and once 
{rom her limp eye and she seemed in a 


near swoon. 

Chauncey, thinking this form of dane 
ing was an ancient custom of British 
nobility and unwilling, as his dear moth- 
er had taught him, to scorn the sensitivi- 
ties of any erhnic minority, inquired 
solicitously, “Am I inconveniencing: you, 
Lady Сти? Have I assumed the correct 
position Гог social terpsicho 

“Honi soit qui mal y pense! [Right 
on]" she screamed in reply. and away 
they went, tightly joined, dipping and 
bobbing. weaving and swaying. 

They danced until the music reached 
а climax, Chauncey's suffused truncheon 
still exploring Carlsbad Cavern, when 
the noble lady suddenly shrieked and 
fell backward, pulling Chauncey down 
on top of her. 

Fearing his weight might cause her 
serious injury, the concerned dad ar 
tempted to free himsel. But the dis 
taught lady held him tightly, 
were still in this position, breath 
torousiy from their strenuous 


labors, 
when, behind them, a heavy, masculine 


voice showed, “Dieu el топ droit! 
[Whats going оп herc?]" and Chauncey 
Alcock looked over his shoulder to see 
a short, bulllike man, dad in fawn 
colored slacks and a Norfolk jacket to 
atch, glowering at them with a face 
flushed with choler. He slap 
а pair of yellow-sucde gloves angrily 
against his thigh, “I insist you cease this 
cell, kıscivious and possibly ille- 
gal activity at once!" the man roared 
With some difficulty. Lady Cockburn 
ged and climbed 


nd Chauncey dise 
kily to their feet. 
"E am Lord Cockbum. 
Cbrn," the frenzied i 
“And who are you, sirrah 
Our Hero replied calmly, for 
was not conscious of any behavior on his 
t that coukl possibly justify Lord 
Cockbum’s wrath, "my name is Chaun 
cey Alcock. I am delivery boy for Feld- 
1's Drugstore, located on the corner 
of Columbus Avenue and Seventy-fourth 
Street. "Your Health Is Our Concern.” 
nough!” Lord Cockbum cried fu- 
ously. And with that, he stepped. [or 
ward and slapped Chauncey Alcock 
smartly across the face with his yellow 
suede gloves. “I demand satisfacti 
he screamed. 
“You'll get it,” Lady Cockburn smiled 


pronounced 
uder shouted. 


312 dreamily. 


Chauncey stood staunchly under the 
fury of the other man’s blow. A quiet 
smile curved upward the corners of his 
regular lips, but he spoke not, nor did 
he attack the older man. He merely 
stood steadfast, resolved to accept all 
insulis and provocations within reason 
to remain calm duty. 

“Are you 1 r with firearms, sir- 
rah?” Lord Cockburn demanded. 

Tam, indeed, sit,” Chauncey Alcock 
replied. proudly possessed ап 
excellent cap pistol since the age of 
seven, Although not used in recent 
years, 1 believe it is still in operai 
order, as 1 am a firm believer in keeping 
all my possessions well oiled and ready 
for instant use.” 

“You can 
burn muttered. 

Obediently, Chauncey гере: 
a firm believer in keeping: 
"Enough already! shouted 
- “L am not speaking of cap pis- 

п. Lam speaking of these!” 

And with th Lord Cockburn strode 
to a nearby cabinet and returned with a 
handsome walnut box, which he opened 
under Chauncey Alcock's regular nos 
displaying to Our Hero's cool gaze а 
splendid pair of matched dueling pis 
tols, beautifully chased with silver deco. 
ration and bearing on their barrels che 


that again.” Lady Cock 


legend: SOUVENIR OF ATLANTIC CITY. 
"D am sting a duel to the 
death!" Lord Cockburn hissed. as well 


as any man might Miss the word death. 
“Are you willing, sirrah? 

Sir," Chauncey Alcock stated serenely, 
in what was probably his finest hour, “if 
I have offended you in any way—which, 
1 might add parenthetically, I do not 
believe I have, since your good and 
faithful spouse and 1 were merely enjoy- 
ing an innocent leson in ballroom 
dancing. which she was kind enough to 
proffer, since I lack that social grace—if, 
I say, sir, I have offended yon in any 
way or caused unwitting damage to 


your pride, then I apologize, most huni- 
d, 


bly and sincerely. If, on the other 1 
you are not willing to accept my hea 
felt apology. then, sir, 1 Icel compelled 
to state that I will be willing to meet 
you on the field of honor.” 

“To the death! Lord 
trumpeted. 

To the death.” Chauncey Alcock ac 

knowledged gravely 

“Bonne chance! [Groovy] L 
burn cried. 

"Do you have a second, sirrah?” 
lord demanded 


Cockburn 


ly Cock- 


mi- 


The Alcock youth rapidly considered 
Mr. Feldhausen, Mr. Irving Benoit- 
Dreissen and his closest friend, Sidney, a 


mere stripling who sold pretzels and 
picked his nose. Cl 
jected them all. 

, 1 do not,” he acknowledged. 
h, I suggest you and I 
meet alone on the Great Sheep Meadow 


uncey quickly re- 


in Cental Park tomorrow at dawn, 
without seconds. These pistols you sec 
here shall be loaded and primed, The 
choice of weapons. of course, shall be 
yours. We shall separate a distance of 
twenty paces, then lace each other. 1 
the aggrieved party, shall have the first 
shot. In the laughable and utterly ridicu 
lous possibility that I miss, you shall the 
aim and fire. Is that satisfactory, sirrah? 

“Perlectly, sir,” Chauncey Alcock re 

ed, without hesitation, 

They nodded coldly to each other and 
the Alcock lad then departed after Lord 
Cockburn had given him a "dime" (ten 
cents) as a “tip” (gratuity) Гог delivei 
ing the package from Feldhausen’s 
remuneration Chauncey accepted with 
ple dignity, for such is the world of 
commerce. 

Our Hero returned to his simple, but 
clean, hovel on. West 92nd Street, where 
his dear mother had already prepared 
for him a nourishing repast of stuffed 
turnips. Mentioning nothing to her of 
his approaching ordeal, Chauncey re 
tired to his own room at an carly hour 
and, from his extensive library. read up 
оп the punctilio of duels; for in this 
encounter with a tiled foreigner, the 
American lad was anxious to give a good 
account of himself 

His reading completed, the deter- 
mined youth did two deep knee bends 
md three push-ups to tone his muscles. 
He then bathed in a tepid shower, 
nel nightgown and 
set his alarm’ clock for an hour before 
dawn, Having bespoke his prayers, he 
closed his eyes and was asleep almost 
instantly, for, in truth. it had been a 
replete day. 

On the morn, the sun rising from 
Brooklyn and heading toward Newark, 
Chauncey Alcock arose from a deep, 
dreamless slumber at thc call of his 
trusty alarm clock. He dressed with ex- 
tra care. wondering if he should shave 
and then deciding to let it go until thc 
following Thursday. He looked in upon 
his slecping mother before he left 
pressed a gentle kiss on her soft cheek. 

“Until we meet again,” he murmured. 
n cycled slowly but determined- 
ly toward the Great Sheep Meadow in 
Central Park, marking the beauty of the 
morn and reflecting it might be the last 
he would we. But such is the ebullience 
of youth that these mournful thoughts 
proved as ephemeral as the morning log, 
and the new sun brought hope and re- 
newed faith in the American way of life. 

As he entered the park at 72nd Street, 


suddenly aware of the 
number of uniformed patrolmen in evi- 
dence. Squad cars and specialized police 
vehicles were “on the prow 


and even 
п official helicopter hovered overhead. 
For a moment, Chauncey Alcock feared 
that news of his impending duel with 
Lord Cockburn had been bruited about 


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PLAYBOY 


344 


ad the police had assembled to prevent 
possible bloodshed. 

But then he realized that even knowl- 
edge of the duel would not justify this 
enormous display of police power and 
Chauncey brought his velocipede to a 
halt alongside one of the minions of the 
law, a burly constable who was looking 
about alertly, swinging his "billy" and 
on the qui vive (alert) for potential fel- 
ons and incontinent schnauzers. 

Pardon me, Officer,” С 
cock inquired respectfully. "Can you in- 
form me as to the significance of these 
obviously extensive police measure 

The guardian of law and order looked 
at him seriously and said in calm toncs, 
“Ihe Corset Fiend has struck again, 
Chauncey Alcock gasped in 

«meni 
п nodded, “I fear it is 
50," he said in а solemn voice. “His most 
recent depredation occurred in a back 
yard on West Sixty-Eighth Street. Fortu- 
nately, he was observed by a witness and 
his escape on foot into Central Park was 
noted. Upon bei 
perate crime, the department si 
patrols at all entrances to the park. We 
have not captured him as усь but we 
have every expectation that the shame- 
ful career of the Corset Fiend will be 
terminated ere the sun slowly dips be- 
Jow yon far horizon.” 

The officer was speaking of one of the 
most infamous miscreants ever to threa 
en the peace and security ol the teeming 
metropolis, For almost six months, the 
Corset Fiend had made a shocking ca- 
reer of raiding backyard clotheslines, 
stealing only ladies! corsets and running 
off with his loot before he could be 
apprehended. 

His plunderings had become increas- 
ingly bold and the total cash value of 
the purloined corsets had risen to the 
point where a 55000 reward had been 
offered by the city fathers for his cap- 
ture, “dead or alive,” and women of all 
ages were warned to launder their cor- 
and hang them to dry in the privacy 

г own homes or, if outside d 
of the laundered garment was de 
10 post an armed guard until the corset 
could be retrieved from the clothes 

But now, it appeared, the Corset 
Fiend could not escape capture, (ог as 
Chauncey Alcock wheeled his "bike" to 
the Great Sheep Meadow, he saw dogged 
bands of constables beating the bushes 
and undergrowth of the park in an ef- 
fort to ascertain the felon's whereabouts. 

At the edge of the meadow, Chauncey 
саше upon Lord Cockburn, pacin; 
and down with measured stride, carrying 
the pistol case under his arm and smok- 
ing a black cheroot. 


uncey AL 


"ко 


"Good morning, Lord Ch 
Chauncey Alcock sang out 
tiful morning. is it not, si 

“I did not come here to exchany 


Lod Cockburn 


pleasantries, sirrah,” 


growled in hostile tones, “Ar 
pared to sce this affair through 

"p am, Chauncey Alcock said, 
lifting h, however, 
one f 


you pre- 


"Not accepted," milord said grumpily. 
"In that case, sir,” the Alcock lad said 
steadily, “I suggest we get to the matter 
t in my 
ngs of the code duello last night, L 
ned that L as the challenged party, 
am cntitled to the first shot. However, 
in view ol my youth and your advanced 
ge. Pam willing to waive that advan- 
с and therefore will wait until you 
have fired belore I fire in return.” 
Without another word, Lord Cock. 
burn opened his pistol case and offered 
it to Chauncey. The delivery boy select 
ed a weapon and hefted it in his hand 
to gauge the balance. Lord Cockburn 
picked the remaining pistol and showed 
Chauncey how to draw back the ham- 
mer to prepare. the weapon for instant 
use. Milord then cast aside the empty 
case and the wet stub of his cheroot and 
he and Chauncey took up positions, back 
to back, cach holding his cocked wi 
with the muzzle poin 
“When 1 "Now, sin 
Cockburn said, "we will each take ten 
paces forward. I shall count aloud. At 
the end of ten steps, we will turn, face 
cach other, and 1 shall fire. IL your 
wound is not Latal—a prospect which, in 
view of my many years of service with 
the Bengal Lancers, 1 deem extremely 
tistactor 


the brave boy said with 
not a tremor in voice or frame. 
"Now!" Lord Cockburn shouted, 


and he began to count in a loud voice 
as the two marched away from cadh 
other. At the count of ten, both swung 
ound, facing exch other and pointing 


their weapons. Lord Cockburn aimed 
slowly and deliberately at Chauncey’s 
pride and joy. then pressed the trigger 


There was a sharp report, 
of white smok 
y 


mall puff 
id the ball sped into a 
n ee, where it mortally wounded 
ап innocent squ i 
husk from a Sp; 

“I am unhit uncey Alcock 
said coolly, "but I presume your honor 
has been satisfied. In that case, 1 do not 


sir," 


itu 


spi guish as well. 

"You must fi h!" Lord Cock- 
burn yelled, stamping his foot with rage 
nd vexatio: 
“Very well” Chauncey Alcock said 
calmly, “if you insist, sir. 

And with that, the plucky lad turned 
his pistol aside and fired into the under- 
brush. In ely, a loud scream was 
heard. 


^ siri 


“Heavens to Betsy! 
"What have 1 done 

Then ensued a scene of di 
ity as uniformed office 
finest,” 
gro 
shots, the death throes of the wou 
squirrel and the screams coming from 
under a juniper bush. The squirrel soon 
“shuffled oll this mortal coil," as the 
poet puts it, the two duelists were tem- 
porarily detained but won released. 
when it was discovered that the screams 
head by all were made by the Corset 
nd. who, hidden in the undergrowth, 
had had his posterior lightly creased by 


ohauneey cried. 


aotic activ 
‚ "New York's 
me running to the dueli 
tracted by the sound of the 
ded 


Chauncey Alcock’s pistol shot, He was 
immediately по custody. 
Little remains to be told. Although 


Chauncey was offered the 55000 reward 
posted for the capture of the Corset 
Fiend, he refused to accept the gratuity, 
saying his actions in the Great Sheep 
Meadow were purely fortuitous. Instead. 
the kindhearted lad asked that the 
be used to finance a feeding program for 
Central Park's squirrels, hoping thereby 
10 make some amends to the relatives 
and friends of the unfortunate. Seiurus 
vulgaris robbed of life by Lord Cock- 
burn’s ill-aimed shot. 

acey Alcock's photograph and an 
account of his part in the capture of the 
Corset Fiend appeared in all the city’s 
nd 


g Morn, 


»on, 
it 10 his educational labors, he 
was greeted as a “conquering hero" by 
zustave Feldhausen and Miss Bec- 
ndershot, although it must be 
ed that Chaunceys success was а 
source of much envious spite on the pare 
of Mr. Irving Benoit-Dreissen, the de- 
praved apothecary. 

It should also be noted that the del 
ery boy accepted all these compliments 
and encomiums with modesty and q 


subsequi 


itude, with none of the br 


ar 
that might be expected [rom а youth of 
crader sensibil 

Later that afternoon, while taking in- 
ventory in the back sto n with Miss 
Becbee Undershot, Chauncey Alcock 
was “all business” and scarcely conscious 
of the lady's fevered blandishments. In 
wuth, the youth was thinking of the 
school homework that awaited him 
when he returned to his domi 

Chauncey Alcock was enrolled in a 
course called Elementary Sex Education. 
He found the instruction. of. absorbing 
interest and he had every intention of 
enrolling in the following усаг course, 
which was called Remedial Sex Educa- 
tion. There was, he acknowledged, much 
that puzzled him and much he had to 
learn. The ambitious lad was determined 


to stick to il. 


00 


WAS 


ENS ASS 
N ANS NM 
N N | 


W 


N NES 
En N 


iething else to do?” 


cone please get Mr. Dalyrumple som 


"Will som 


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OF EDY WILLIAMS AND VICTORIA PRINCIPAL, STAR OF PLAYBOY PRO- 
DUCTIONS' “THE NAKED APE”; WHAT'S NEWIN MENSWEAR BY FASHION 
DIRECTOR ROBERT L. GREEN; MORE FROLICSOME FUN AND GAMES WITH 
“LITTLE ANNIE FANNY"; THE BEST WORKS OF THE MOST CELEBRATED 
AUTHORS AND ARTISTS CURRENTLY PUBLISHED IN ANY MAGAZINE, 
INCLUDING ROBERT SHERRILL, ALFRED KAZIN, JULES SIEGEL, 
TENNESSEE WILLIAMS, JOYCE CAROL OATES, ANTHONY HERBERT, 
CALVIN TRILLIN, J. ANTHONY LUKAS, JOSEPH WECHSBERG, JEAN 
SHEPHERD, JOHN SKOW, BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN, ROBERT L. FISH, 
CRAIG VETTER, GAHANWILSON, TOMI UNGERER, LEROY NEIMAN, 
SHEL SILVERSTEIN, ALBERTO VARGAS AND MANY, MANY MORE. 


New Kool Milds 
"tObaceos are light, mild, 
‘Gnd lowered in lar; 

Jusf the tight amount 
of pure menthol. Pure 
white filter, 100, 

Here is the taste of extra 
cooiness low-tar smokers um 
have waited so long s 
to enjoy. ML TM 1.0 nicotine 


Enjoy a cooler kindiof mild. 


8 
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Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined, 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


x 
Kook Longs m 


СХ] CHRYSLER 


Built to be seen. Not heard. 


Take a good look at the new Satellite Sebring-Plus. 


We've restyled it to give it a look we think a lot of And things like floor silencers and roof pads 
People are going to like. to keep the street noises outside the car. 
But that's only the beginning. Here's the inside story. {tall means thal the Sebring-Plus will be a quieter 


car than ever before. “Super-Quiet” we call it. 

You know all those irritating little < 

noises your саг makes when you drive — "E If Satellite sounds like your kind of 

down the highway? Like windwhistle. = car, stop at your Chrysler-Plymouth 

Tire noise. Traffic sounds. Ca z dealer's. Take a good look al our new 
Fu 


Satellite. 
Well, we've buill a car to quiel those 


noises. This transparent car has colored 


n. A Р А 
Mes aw EE Real Md | N 2 Drive il, listen to the quiel, experience 
N 
j 
= 


the new ride and the way it handles. 
Then decide. We don't think there's a 
better choice in a mid-size car. 


silencers in the new Sebring-Plus. We've 
added special door and window seals, 
lor example. 


Mid-size Plymouth Satellite onsu 


Extra care in engineering... it makes a difference. [2722271]