PLAYBOY

ENTERT AINMENT FOR MEN JANUARY 1973 « $1.50

HOLIDAY ANNIVI
FEATURING JOHN
O'FAOLAIN > GEI

WILLIAM F. BUCKLI

ART BUCHWALD - CAL
TRILLIN - HERBERT (
PLAYBOY INTERVIEWS
CARROLL O'CONNOR > JAC

BEGINNING A NEW NO!
GEORGE ("THE FRIENDS О
_ EDDIE COYLE") HIGGINS
. PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW
|. PETE TURNER'S VISIONS OF
EROTICA + A NEW SILVERSTEIN
IGBOOK • AND MUCH, MUCH МОН!

Give America's

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4
America's Whiskey.
Spread some Holiday =
cheer.

Give Seagram's 7Crown.

It's America’s whiskey.

Şenprams

SEAGRAM OISTILLERS CO. N Y.C. AMERICAN WHISKEY A BLEND. #6 PROOF. BEAUTIFULLY CIFI-PACHACED AT NO EXTRA COST

У 5

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PERFUME

You know what she wants. CHANEL N°5

Perfume in the classic bottle from 8.50 to 400., Eau de Chanel from 7.00 to 20.00, Eau de Cologne from 4.00 to 20.00,
Spray Perfume and Spray Cologne each 6.00.

„If its 4-channel |
this system will play it.

Discrete. Or matrix. Or enhanced
stereo. In fact, you can even listen
to your favorite monaural rec-
ords. On Panasonic's
discrete 4-channel
system, Model
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The RE-8420is an
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for discrete 4-channel tapes.
And stereo tapes. When you add
on our CD-4 record changer,
Model SL-800, you can play
Compatible Discrete 4-channel
(CD-4) records. Like RCA

Quadradiscs. Plus matrix records.
The RE-8420 enhances the sound
of stereo tapes, records, and radio
z becauseof Panasonic's
Quadruplex™ Cir-
cuitry. And can even
beadapted for dis-
crete4-channel FM
radio. When that
becomes a reality.
This 4-channel sys-
tem has all the equipment to get
allthat new sound out. There are
separate bass and treble controls.
Evena special loudness switch.
So you still hear all the highs and
lows in the music when the vol-
ume is turned way down. Plus

separate volume controls for the
four 6%" air-suspension speakers.
And with our optional remote
balancer, the RD-9775, you can
balance all 4 channels. Without
getting off the couch.

The RE-8420 is one of the
models іп Panasonic’s Series 44“
A complete line of discrete
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play anything in recorded music.
So if you're not sure exactly what
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Ask about Model RE-8420

ex its publication some 11 months
1 thriller about a bunch of small-time
» Boston hoods, The Friends of Eddie Coyle, was being called "the
sleeper of the year" and had been purchased by Paramount for
1973 screen release. Its author, first-time novelist George V. Hig
gins, had a finely tuned ear for dialog and a chilling insight into
the lile style of the second-echelon crook. That figured: Higgins
is Assistant U. S. Attorney for the District of Massachusetts—a full
prosecutor who hits the typewriter nights and weekends, He made up his mind to enter Boston College
law school some nine years ago when, alter covering the state courthouse as a reporter in Springfield, Massachusetts,
he decided trial lawyers were having more fun than he was. “I like trying cases—bank-robbery, extortion, fraud, counter
feiting, hijacking, fence, gun-control cases—but I still like writing.” Higgins told us after we sewed up the serialization
rights to his second book, The Digger's Game (to be published by Alfred А Knopf in March). In this issue, you'll find the
first of three installments of the adventures of Digger Doherty, an improper Bostonian who runs a bar (both аге pic-
tured by artist Warren Linn), has a side line in burglary and is his own worst enemy. We think you'll find Digger even
more entertaining than Eddie; you may sce him on film, too, since Higgins is busy drafting a screenplay.

That's just for openers. Next, William F. Buckley, Jr., views with consummately stylish alarm the Presidents
vip to Peking (on which W. F. B. was an improbable fellow traveler) in To China with Nixon, which will be enjoyed
by Buckley connoisseurs who liked his most recent book, /nveighing We Will Go. Germaine Greer's style may not be
as genteel as Buckley's; for one thing, she sometimes uses rather earthy terminology—a penchant that will set her back
510 in court costs or a spell in the pokey if she ever returns to New Zealand, where she was convicted of using obscene
language in a meeting at Auckland University last March. But. however
she chooses to express herself, Ms. Greer is an articulate and intelligent T
spokesman (woman? -personz) lor women s rights; with this month's Seduc-

Поп Is a Four-Letter Word, she scores telling points in an argument that

PLAYBILL 77

ago, a sli;

мисс: BUCKLEY

time Fede

time. "Em busy being a lather to a new baby who's come to live in my
house," she says without further explanation.

PLAYBOY Stall Writer Craig Vetter reluses to wear any of the fashionable
crowns of thorns in Confessions of a Lettuce Eater. "| got tired of listening 8
to 89,000 conflicting voices, cach trving to bury us in guilt with all this
pressure lor ‘relevant’ jobs, ‘deeply meaningful" relationships, "responsible"
citizenship." As reported last month, Vener has found а way to handle it;
he’s moved from Chicago to South Laguna Beach, Calilornia. Although
he's churning out work at a greater iate than ever belore, he admits “I'm
also getting into being a beach bum pretty well.” At the other end of the
country, in Ossining, New York—where hes teaching writing to inmates at
Sing Sing—lives one of America

ting wood,” Cheever says. “A collection of my stories, called The World of
Apples, will come out this year, including the three іп January's PLayBoy
[Triad: The Widow, The Passenger, The Belly].

‘There's still more outstanding fiction this month. The peripatetic Paul Theroux, whose letters—and PLAYBOY
contributions—in recent years have been postmarked Irom such exotic spots as Malawi and Maki
Charlottesville, Virginia, where hes writer in residence at the University of Virginia. Next, he says, "Ell probably
shamble back to England, where 1 have just bought a house.” His ollering herein, Dessert at the Belvedere, will be
part of Saint Jack, a novelmemoir of a middle-aged Singapore pimp to be published soon by Houghton. Milin-
пу happy hours over a period of thice years,” reports Theroux, "were spent researching this rewarding subject."

Another tale comes [rom Sean O'Faolain, who is а winner lor the second year running in PLAYBOYS annual
writing-awards competition. Reading an O'Faolain piece is so pleasurable and elflortless that one fails to realize the
pains that must go into it. O Faolain's latest message tells us mournfully: “Неге I am, all alone, quietly sitting at my
desk in my study, supposed to be working on the opening sentence of a short story. The date on top of the first page
ol said story is 20 days ago. It reads, so lar as I can make out: “He had been stalking her now’ (now crossed out) ‘Lor
over' (over crossed out and changed to about) ‘six’ (six crossed out and changed to three, which was crossed out and
changed to two) ‘months, and not (пог crossed out and changed to so, which was crossed out and changed to far)
from concealing’ (far from concealing crossed out and then
restored by а wavy red line) ‘her pleasure in his’ . . . Flirtation?
(crossed out) ‘Game’? (crossed. ош). My magnilying glass cannot
decipher what was next proposed. Crumpet? Rompe? Gompe?
Gasme? Gas meter? Pleasure іп his gas meter? Oh,
I awaiting the outcome. Meanwhile, have а go
latest completed story, The Inside Outside Complex. The Irel:
O'Faolain writes about is far different [rom the besieged city of

Wil

, is now living in

CHEEVER

А

THEROUX O FAOLAIN FITZPATRICK

BUCHWALD TRILLIN TURNER

Belfast, through which Tom Fitzpatrick guides us in And So It
Goes. Fitz, a Chicago Sun-Times columnist and 1970 Pulitzer Prize

ner, describes himsel len y Catholic shanty Irish." A
is just out.
On the level of horror films and roller-coaster rides, fear is a

ig emotion. But to those who deal with real fear daily, irs
«lly serious matter. William Neely rounded up six such—
ce and Air Force General Robin Olds; cardiac surgeon
Denton Cooley, M.D.: oilwell-fire capper Red Ad:
d circus aerialist Karl Wallenda, intervi
is for them in Fear. Neely, a former racecar dre who wrote our May 11079 ticle on Craig i Eê, confesses
that his own biggest fear is not of death but of failure to succeed as а free-lance wı 1 was in corporate public
k to that. Га rather farm." He could; he lives on a 167-acre
cattle spread in West Virginia. We asked Los Angeles artist Charles Bragg why he made death a gnome in his stunning
The Forces of Death and the Forces of Life. “Death to me isn't ominous—just an ever-present pain in the ass,” he
replied. “By making him a gnome, I reduce him to something I can handle. I have to look at life as a gigantic joke:
otherwise, I couldn't get through it every.

San Franciscan Herbert Gold wi it’s possible to have Candy-Coated Nightmares in Nirvana by the Bay.
Gold—another 1972 PLaynoy writing-award winner—is celebrating publication of My Last Two Thousand Years,
an autobiography about “being a writer and a Jew in America" (and, he adds, “wondering why Anthony Quinn
isn't playing me in a movie version"). Well, it's one thing, says Ralph Keyes, to grow up a Jew; it's quite another
to grow up “half “Jewish and half WASP. I've been hurting lor a deviant
identity. Finally I've found it in the struggle against heightism"—feistily
outlined in Runts Lib.

Despite his stature, which һе has recorded at 577.69”, Keyes likes to
play basketball. This issue, as it happens, is replete with jocks of one kind
or another: an outrageously campy wrestler, even more outrageously
portrayed in Gorgeous George, M. D., by Richard Smith; world-champion
pool player Steve Mizerak, profiled by our newest Stall Writer, Laurence
Gonzales—himself a daily player who's no slouch with the сис; LeRoy
Neiman, artist and training-camp follower extraordinaire, who limns the
Super Bowl in Man at His Leisure (complemented, suitably, by Whiskey in
the Kitchen cookbook author Emanuel Greenberg's punch recipes іп Pro
Bowls!, which is illustrated by Robert von Neumann's ceramic sculpture);

nd tennis fanatic Art Buchwald, more renowned (though one would never
guess it [rom reading Advantage, God) as a political satirist and syndicated
columnist. Smith, a technical writer lor IBM New York, tells us straight
facedly that on his own time hes compiling "an illustrated history of
chemical laundering in the United States from July 1930 to the present.
You may believe that if you wish. Gonzales claims, more credibly, to be
working on two novels and a volume of poe showing
up with regularity as а guest/commentator on sports telecasts. Greenberg,
а perhaps unique combination of home economist and ex-merchant m
rine cook, has made something of a specialty of writing about spi
sine. Buchwald dropped us a line saying hes devoting all his spare moments to perfecting his tennis game.
discovered anyone can write a humor column,” he says, “but very few people can develop a good serve.” Calvin
Trillin’s hobby is played in a different kind of court; this month Trillin, also best known as a humorist, does a new
number in Adventures of a Liligious Law Buff.

As you may have guessed, there's much more: an interview with All in the Family's Carroll O'Connor, a talented.
and versatile actor entangled in a kind of love-hate relationship with the character he made famous (and vice ver

эми

NEIMAN GREENBERG VON NEUMANN

—Archie Bunker. Plus a portlolio of erotic photos by Pete Turner; some equally erotic fortunetelling cards by
nctly un-Biblical, it’s

Hungarian-born artist-photographer Francois Colos; and the latest from Shel Silverstein. Di
The Song of Songs Which Is Silverstein's. The ballads are featured оп Shel's new album, Columl Freakin’
at the Freakers Ball; one of them, Don't Give a Dose to the One You Love Most, was the theme song for the recent
television special TD Blues, hosted by Dick Cavett. Due soon is a Silverstein children's book, Sara Cynthia Sylvia
Stout Wouldn't Take the Garbage Out and Other Poems (Harper & Row); an animated film, The Gi Tree,
based on his best seller; more albums, more movies, more everything hom the man who gave you 4 Boy Named Suc.

Still with us? Come back to those golden days of yestei
1972, that is—with That Was the Year That Was, by Judith Wax;
invest in Blue-Chip Fashion Futures, Robert L. Green's Cre e
Menswear Collection; catch a sneak preview of the latest Domi-
movie, Impossible Object; tune in with stereo
headphones For Your Eais Only; get to know ап unquenchable
mento miss, Playmate Miki Garcia; and, of course, pick
favorite in Playboy's Playmate Review. For auld lang syne.

SILVERSTEIN WAX

PLAYBOY, JAM. 1973, VOL. 20, NO 1. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY. 1н NATIONAL AND REGIONAL
CHICAGO, ILL. AND AT ADDITIONAL MAILING OFFICES SCSSEMIPTIONS: үт INE US, $10 FOR ONE TEAR

RARE
SCOT!

The Pleasure Principle.

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.

Have a Dickens ©
u

86 Proof Blended Scotch Whisky © 1972 Paddington Corn. N.Y.

vol. 20, no. 1 january, 1973

PLAYBOY.

CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

PLAYBILL..... С ب‎ NS
DEAR PLAYBOY... SUN Ж 2 ads
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 2
BOOKS... 5 шы. 22
MOVIES... . 28
RECORDINGS... < 38
THEATER 44
San Francisco THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR в 49
THE PLAYBOY FORUM 2553
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: CARROLL O'CONNOR—candid conversation e
THE DIGGER'S GAME—ficlion | GEORGE V. HIGGINS 76
SEDUCTION IS A FOUR-LEITER WORD article GERMAINE GREER 80
DESSERT AT THE BELVEDERE—fiction 5 PAUL THEROUX 83
PETE TURNER'S TURN-ONS— pictorial. = 84
CANDY-COATED NIGHTMARES IN NIRVANA
BY THE BAY—article.. — HERBERT GOLD 92
PRO BOWLS!— drink — EMANUEL GREENBERG 95
TO CHINA WITH NIXON— article. WILLIAM F. BUCKLEY, JR. 96
TRIAD; THE WIDOW, THE PASSENGER, THE BELLY —ficiion JOHN CHEEVER 99
CONFESSIONS OF A LETTUCE EATER—humor CRAIG VETTER 107
THE SONG OF SONGS WHICH IS SILVERSTEIN'S—humor SHEL SILVERSTEIN 108
AND SO IT GOES— article TOM FITZPATRICK 113
GORGEOUS GEORGE, M.D.—humor RICHARD SMITH 114
BLUE-CHIP FASHION FUTURES—cMire. | 117
THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS—humor JUDITH WAX 123
GO-GETTER—playboy’s playmate of the month 124
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor 122
Ич Tuen- Om. THE INSIDE OUTSIDE COMPLEX—fiction SEAN O'FAOIAIN 134
RUNTS LIB—humor RALPH KEYES 137
IT'S АЦ IN THE CARDS—humor FRANÇOIS COLOS 139
THE NATURAL —orticle LAURENCE GONZALES 143
THE ELEVENTH-HOUR SANTA — gifts 2 147
ADVANTAGE, GOD—humor.... T ART BUCHWAID 151
THE VARGAS GIRL—pidorial...... AIBERTO VARGAS 152
FOR YOUR EARS ONLY —modern living. 155
THE FORCES OF DEATH AND THE FORCES OF LIFE—pictorial CHARLES BRAGG 156
PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW—pictorial 165
Playmate Reprise Ё
FEAR—symposium RED ADAIR, DENTON COOLEY, M.D., AARON HENRY,
BRIGADIER GENERAL ROBIN OLDS, JACK PALANCE, KARL WAILENDA 180
ADVENTURES OF A LITIGIOUS LAW BUFF —arlicle. CALVIN TRIN 185
SUPER BOWL — тетп et his leisus LEROY NEIMAN 187
“IMPOSSIBLE OBJECT" —pictoriol .. 191
THE TUNBRIDGE DOCTORS —ribald classic 196
PLAYBOY'S ANNUAL WRITING AWARDS 198
ON THE SCENE—personal 208
PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 222
Future Fashion LITTLE ANNIE FANNY —satire. HARVEY KURTZMAN | ord WILL ELDER 256

GENERAL OFFICES : PLAYOOY BUILDING. 619 NORTH MICHIGAN AVE , CHICAGO. ILLINOIS 60611. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL HANUSCHIPTS, ORA WINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED IF
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PUBLICATION AND COPYRIGHT PURPOSES AND AS SUBJECT TO FLAYEOY'S UNRESTSICTED RIGHT TO EDIT Ано TO COMMENT EDITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT © 107: BY PLAYBOY ALL miCHTS PE
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WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FRON THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIKILAFITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SEMIFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AND ANY REAL PEOPLE AND PLACES IS
RELY COINCIDENTAL, CREDITS: COVER: COLLAGE BY BEATRICE PAUL. PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY. OTHER PHOTOGRAPHY BY: BILL ANSENAULT, P. 4 (3). 95. DON AZUMA. P. 143, MAMIO
CASILLI P. 122-175, 126 (0), 13 (2). 165 (2), 168: RICK CLUTHE. Р. 4, JEFF COHEN, P. 3. 195,195, GARY COLE. P. 3. A WILSON EMBREY II P. 1- RICHARD FEGLEY LL AND HEL Fleece. P 165 0),
166.100; DILL FRANTZ, Р.З, 4; KENFRAXTE. P. 2. 27; RICHARD R HEWETT, P.124, 126-177 (4), 131: DWIGHT ноокен, P 165 (3). 170. 172, 177; CARL IRL, 200). LANE, Р э; BRUCE MC BROON,
T. V75: PATRICK MORIN. P. 3:3. BARRY O'ROURKE. P. 3. 4 (2). 108. 198: PHILIP PACOCK. P 3, POMPEO POSAR. P їл, 167. 176, V % SUIN, P. а (3). 199, BLL SUMMER, P. 3, DILL TROVE, P. 199;
л UREA, P- 165 (3). 171, 174, €. WESTON. Р. 172; T. WOODARD, P. 198. P. 57, FRAME BY STUDIO EIGHT LIGHTING. P. 117-121. WOMEN'S FASHIONS OY DILL BLASS. HERMES, ANNE KLEIN AND WAL STOR

© Lorillard 1872

Micronite filter.

Mild, smooth taste.

For all the right reasons.
Kent.

DELUXE LENGTH

» “America’s quality cigarett
"no Size or Deluxe (005.

Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined
Kings: 17 mg. “tar,” 1.1 mg. nicotine. That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health.
100: 19 mg, “tar,” L3 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Aug. 72.

PLAYBOY

This is the camera

you've heard so much about.

The Yashica Electro-35. The camera that revolutionized
photography. With automatic computer brain and elec-
tronic shutter. That reacts instantly, no matter what you
shoot, or when you shoot. For beautiful color or black
and white pictures. Day or night. One of your friends or
neighbors probably owns an Electro-35. Isn't it time you
owned one, too? See ittoday at your local Yashica dealer.

YASHICA

ELECTRONIC CAMERAS.

It's а whole new thing
YASHICA inc , 50-17 Queene Boulevard, Woodside, New York 11377

Walt Frazier really
knows how to enjoy
a time out.

Up to the final buzzer it's hustle and pressure. For
acomplete change of pace Walt relaxes with his hi-fi
system. He's a Pioneer hi-fi fan from start to finish —
AM-FM stereo receiver, turntable, cassette tape deck
and speakers, After all, one great performerappre-
ciates another. For the finest in high fidelity, visit your
Pioneer dealer. U.S. Pioneer Electronics Corp.,

178 Commerce Road, Caristadt, N.J. 07072

YPIONEER’

when you want something better

———

Н Parker

PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor and publisher

ARTHUR KRETCHMER ex
ARTI

cutive editor

PAUL. art director
SHELDON WAX managing editor

MARK KAUFFMAN plotoxsaphy editor

MURRAY FISHER, NAT Lt AN.
assistant managing editors

EDITORIAL,
nyn ediln. Groreury
NORMA lor, б. BARRY COLSON
asistani editor + FICTION: ROME MACAVLEY
editor, srwarv PALLY asociate editor,
SUZANNE MC NEM, WALTER SUMET assistant
editors e SERVICE FEATURES: чом OWEN
modem living editor, ROGER WIDENER Assi
anl editor; wow а. GREEN fashion director,
өм Y asociale fashion director.

ARTIC

лїк nouses fashion editor: THOMAS
Ame food & drink editor + CARTOONS:
MELLE URRY edilar e COPY: ARLENE BOURAS

editor, SIAN AMBER assistant editor = STATE:
MICHAEL LAURENCE, ROBERT J. SUPA, DAVID
SIEVENS senior. editors: LAURENCE GONZM ES
REG POTTERION, PRANK M. ROBINSON, DAVID
STANDISIL, CRAIG VETIER staff асел: bOUGA ws
BAUER, WILLIAM ү. HELMEN, GRETCHEN MC NEES
CARL SNYDER алеје edilors: LAURA TONGEN
DOUGLAS C. MENSON. |. F- O'CONNOR.
WOLFE assistant edilors: SUSAN
TAREARA NULLS, LAUWE SADLER,
BERNICE Т. ZIMMERMAN sesearch editors:
J. ғаш. GETTY (busines C finance), XAT
MINTO, JACK 1. NESSIE, RICHARD WARREN
LEWIS, RAY RDS JEAN s we лонх
SKOW, BRECE WILLIAMSON (то том
ker contribuling editors © ADMINISTRATIVE
SERVICES: THEO FREDERICK personnel direc
for; PNTRICIA FAFANCHLIS administrative edi-
Lor; EXTHERINE GENOVESE righ Isc permissions:
ERMAN administrative assistant

ART
VOM STAEDLER, RERIG rors месіне directors:
HL MICHAEL SISSON executive assistant: won
POST, ROY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, CHEF SUSKI
CORDON MORTENSEN, FRED NELSON, JOSEMI
raczek, seren ZPLCR assistant directors
JUME FILERS, VICTOR HUBBARD art assistants

тиотосилриу
м ERAMOWSKE west const editors мну
HOLLIS WAYNE. asociale editors; BULL
technical editor ARSEN ALT,
DON AZUMA. DAVID CHAN. RICHARD PEGLE
DWIGHT HOOKER, гомгко roswe staff. photog
raphers; MARIO. CASILLI, BRIAN D. HENNESSEY
наск LICHFIELD, ALEXAS vens contributing
photographers; veo our. photo labi super-
visor; JANICE веком ита сіне) stylist

мли

PRODUCTION
IN MASERO director: MAEN VARGO nda
MET; ELEANOR WAGNER, KITA JONSON, MARIN
MANDIS, RICHARD QUARTAROLL ЕГІН

READER SERVICE
CABLE civic director

CIRCULATION
THOMAS в, WILLIAMS customer sere
wiewoto subscription aperi Ммм
YHOMISON newsstand man

см мах

ADVERTISING
HOWARD w. LEDERER абое Livin,

director

PLAYBOY LNTERPISES, INC.
soma s rurUss business manager aud
associate publisher; MENARD S. ROSENZWEM.
executive assistant lo the publisher; RICHARD
м. korr assistant publisher

Gen. U. S. Importers: Van Munching & Co., Inc., N.Y., N.Y.

IMPORTED HEINEKEN. IN BOTTLES, ON DRAFT AND DARK BEER.

Did you eversee a
tree cry forhelp?

Take a look at this infra-red aerial photograph of elm
trees in Denver, Colorado.

The changes of color in the trees show the possible
presence of Dutch Elm disease. Before tree experts on the
ground can spot it. And before it's too late.

'The photograph is one of 10,000 taken by the Army
Reserve's 405th Military Intelligence Detachment.

Working with the City of Denver, area universities
and state agencies, the Reserve supplied men, machines
and technical know-how to help stop the threat to
Denver's 300,000 elm trees.

With the infra-red photographs as guides, infected
limbs were pruned and some trees removed to stop the
spread of the disease.

We have skills of all kinds. And we put them to work
wherever —and whenever — they're needed.

The Army Reserve.
It pays to go to meetings.

CANADA AT ITS BEST

Canada at its best is a holiday wonderland.
With Christmas trees by the millions. With
reindeer. With enough snow for a hundred
holiday seasons. And with all the good
cheer that comesto you by way of Canadian
Mist. This smooth, mellow, light Canadian

is the perfect gift, to give or to get. Canadian
Mist. Imported from the Northland.

IMPORTED CANADIAN MIST

CANADIAN WHISKY— A BLEND 8086.8 PROOF, BRDWN-FORMAN DISTILLERS IMPORT COMPANY, N.Y., М.Ү. 91971.

DEAR PLAYBOY

БІ sores pLaveoy MAGAZINE - PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINDIS 60511

SOUTH OF THE BORDER
‘The report on Joel Kaplan's dramatic
Mexican jailbreak (Breakout, тылүзөу,
October) was far and away the best non-
fiction you've ever published.
Bob Brown
San Diego, California

Several months a ll news item
announced that two tes, one of
them Americ had рей from a
m by using a helicopter. I
never a followup-—until 1 picked
up rravnoy. My thanks to writers Eliot
Warren Hinckle and William
Turner for letting us in on one of the
best stories of the

“David R. Dull
Kansas Missou

subject that is essential to Kaplan's im-
prisonment. I refer to his almost un-

deniable guilt. 1 was living in Mexico
City in 1961, during the time Карі
was being tried for murdering a m.

named L. M. Vidal, Jr. Among the Ме
can detectives I talked to, and among
newsmen whose stories I read, there was
never the least doubt of Kaplan's guilt.
Vidal's body was found in a shallow
grave on the old Cuernavaca highway,
Two Mexi one taxi driver, con-
fessed they were hired by Kaplan to mur
der Vidal. They. too. were sentenced
While Kaplan was in prison, the Mexi-
can papers repeatedly reported that. he
had paid off judges and other officials to
secure his release. The authors of Break-
out semed to find some giant con-
spiracy mounted against Kaplan to keep
him in jail, But is there anything so
surange about government officials’ not
ing to release a convicted murder
Eu
New Braunfels,

ехаѕ

Hinckle
amd Turner focus on the exploits of
supersmuggler Vic Stadter. From per-
sonal experience, I can attest that Stadter
is everything they say he is—and morc.
1 first met him in August 1961, when,
along with some others, 1 flew to British
Honduras with him to investigate 17,000
eres of Land on which he had an option.
Not only is St ler of long

In Breakout, writers Asinof,

g but he even looks the
cold, steely gray eyes, a on his face
id а cigar constantly mouth.

In Edinburgh. Texas, we picked up
two drums of gas. 100 pounds of cotton
seed—and a trused-up pig. There were
six of us in the plane (a twin Beech)
and, with all our luggage, we were prob-
ably 1000 pounds overweight. I flew co-
pilot, because there was no other seat
On take-ofl, I noticed Vic was using only
80 percent power. | shoved the controls
to the fire wall, and even then we just
managed to clear the power lines at the
end of the runway. It took us ten miles
to gain 1000 feet. I asked Stadter why
he hadn't used [ull power and he said
he was saving the ci

Only later in the flight did 1 learn
what the gas drums were for. Period.
ically, Stadter climbed back to the rear.
to siphon gas from the drums into the
plane's tanks. It turned out there was a
1,000,000-peso reward on his head in
Mexico, so he was reluctant to land
there. While he was siphoning the gas he
gave me a course head 180 degrees
for seven cigars, then 150 degrees for
five. It takes him ten minutes to smoke
а cigar and five more before he wants
another. Even with this rudimentary
navigating, we crossed the Gull.

1 subsequently heard several interest-
ing stories about Stadter from an FBI
ent who was investigating him, Once
he was smuggling a DC-6 full of illegal
monkeys into the U.S. He ran into a
storm and they all got airsick and almost
wrecked the plane. He had to climb to
high altitude to get out of the weather,
and all die monkeys died from the lack
of pressure. Another story, even more
grotesque, concerns a planeload of what
are called Belize turd-dobbers. These are
а sort of South American catfish. Stadter
was hoping to cash in on a shortage of
catfish im New Orleans, but the Customs
people there recognized that the fish
were illegal and impounded his pl
The ice melted, the fish roued
even the plane was ruined. В;
uggler is obviously not casy.
Cecil E. Stanfield
Tulsa, Oklahoma

as

1 suppose every teller of tall tales has
the right to poetic license, and with
three tellers, you have three times the

PLAYBOY. JANUARY. 1973, VOLUME 20, NUMBER Y. PUBLISHED MONTHLY вт FLAYSOY. FLA
YEARS, ив FOR THO YEARS, мо FOR OWE YEAR, ELSEWHERE ADD $2 PER YEAN TOR FOREIGN POSTAGE, ALLOW зо гу
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SOUTHEASTERN REPRESENTATIVE, PIRNIE а DROWN. 3108 FiCDWONT RO. N E

OF FUBLIC RELATIONS. ADVERTISING: HOWARD W. LEDERER,
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Do aerosol deodorants

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PLAYBOY

M

license. But Vic Stadte
encounter with the law" was not, as
your writers state, "a conspiracy case
involving possession of marijuana." The
сазе involved two and one half kilo-
grams of pure heroin. As the Treasury
agent who arrested. him, I should know.
Our case against Stadter was built by
the extensive undercover work of my
partner and exh surveillance con-
ducted by me and other agents. Two of
the five defendants in the case became
witnesses for the prosecution and testi
fied against Stadter and his partners.
During the trial, both of Stadter's co-
defendants met with us and asked for
‘They, too, gave us the full story
dier, but they refused to testify
(dim. The evidence against
Stadter was overwhelming. He was con-
victed by a jury of his peers. He still
had some luck. however: he had a leni
ent judge and received only eight years.
For that amount of junk, most judges
then were handing out sentences.
If that had been the case, Joel Kaplan
it still be languish Ihave
mo personal animosity toward Vic. He
did his time and that’s that. But, con-
to whar your writers imply, he
guilty as charged.
William А. Carrozo
(Address withheld by request)

s “only serious

I just finished reading Breakout. It
has been a long time since | have read so
a story.

T Fabricant
California State Prison
Soledad, Califor

KID STUFF

I very much enjoyed Larry Siegel's
parody The Rover Boys at College
(ria nov, October). T you know
that Arthur M. Winficld—the author of
the "Rover Boys" series—was only а
pseudonym. The “Rover Boys"

ys" the

Tom Swift" and “The Hardy Boys"
stories, the "Bobbsey Twins” stories and
the "Nancy Drew" mysteries were all

written by one prolific author, the Tate

Frank Della
Niles, Ilin

MIXED EMOTIONS

I deplore your pictorial portrayal of
Jim Brown seducing Stella Stevens in
Brown, Black and White (мАувоу, Oc-
tober). I feel its а self-serving
that degrades the qua

Don Н. Till, Jr-
асауШе, California

As you may know, Southern white
people don't mix with colored people—
and they don’t like seeing photos show-
ing colored men m p with white

women, 1 have been a PrAY noy subscriber
for several years, and 1 normally enjoy
reading your magazine. Please, no more
race mixing.

Sam A. Choat
Southaven, Mississippi

FABULOUS FORTIES
Your September cover—showing model
Sandra Josefski bending over to adjust
a pair of superclunky shoes—is the best
PLAYBOY cover I've ever seen. It’s espe-
use I'm such
a fan of the Forties look. Can vou tell us
more about Sandra than just her name?
Bill Morris
1 Diego, California
Sandy digs the Forties look herself, as
the accompanying picture should make
clear. She's 20, lives with her look-alike

sister and just happens to be а re-
ceptionist at our decidedly non-Forties
Chicago editorial offices.

ING COMMENTARY
I enjoyed John Medelman's beautiful
е of marathoner Ron Daws (The

р
Purity of the Long-Distance Runner,
PLaynoy, October). Although I am not

interested in becoming the jogging m
ıress Medelman jokingly seeks, I am a
director of the National Jogging Assoc
tion. My own family runs 30 miles to-
gether every week and we see many
others doing the same. When asked
what her mother does, my nine-year-old
daughter rep “Жоға
housewife, not a mother, but a runner.
Penny M. Bohannon
Washington, D. C.

Ive just finished reading Medelman's
excellently written article and now feel
I know Ron Daws. Гус only bccn into
running for about six months, but it
keeps growing on me. I'm up to six
miles in 37 minutes. This time last year
1 was depressed, unhappy and weighed
200 pounds. Now, with my running, I'm
down to 161 pounds. I'm stronger men-

tally and physically and my prowess in
other areas has also improved. To Me-
delman and Daws Î can only say: Keep

on truckin’.

Joe Hartley

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

As Medelman points out, distance
«unlike most other forms of
athletic endeavor—is а very personal
experience. Its solitude, harmony and
beauty are unmatched by virtually any
other sport. I just wish that people would
take a different attitude toward long-
distance runners. Baseball, basketball
and football players arc thought to be
al; but most people regard distance
Thanks for setting the

Taylor. Jr.
Pennsy

To the mass public, Ron Daws is
hardly Joe Namath or Jim Ryun, But to
the track ity, he is a
dedicated distance runner who possesses
fantastic tenacity and has shown a great
of courage in overcoming his lack
of natural athle ty. Runners such
as Daws have done much to bring Amer-
icin distance running out of the Dark
Ages. Frank Shorter's marathon victory
in Munich may signal the beginning of
a golden cra for Americans in this an-
Gent Olympic event.

di

NEVER AGAIN
Your October interview with Meir Ka-
hane, the militant leader of the Jewish
Defense League, is outstanding. T think
that everything Kahane says is correct.
Gilbert Meltz
West. Lafayette, Indiana

is th

Kahane is right. The probl
there aren't enough
ling to stand up and
again."

Jews in

wil

ion n Greenfield
Houston, Tc:

Kahane asserts that Jews should seek
ош а repu
from his ellois with his org:
has succeeded: most people i
J.D. L is tough. But T wondes
reputation carries over into the entire
Jewish community. And. if it docs, is the
Jewish community proud of the label? I
doubt it.

Bob Cironc

n t lor you to
know di overwhel jority of
American Jews deplore the Jewish De-
By DEN EIUS justi

wb violence on the
Ka nd his followers

anyone. Rabi

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CLOSE TO YOU

17

PLAYBOY

18

only echo the tactics of the international
outlaws who hijack planes, send bombs
though the mails and murder innocent
athletes. As American Jews. we do not
want to be dragged into the gutter with

the J. D. L.

Amy and Bruce
Mineral Well

Epstein

‘Texas

As a Zionist, 1 do not question Ka-
ies ideas that the United States is
fundamentally WASP and that Jewish
fe can be experienced more fully i
Israel. But Kal unwittingly be-
come а propag: for an old and

redited anti іс canard: tha
Jews are у
people, must know thar over 800,000
Jews in the metropolitan areas of the
United St or below the
poverty line. Most Jews in America are

es exist on

part of the great moderate center. They
fear the reactionary right and are suspi

cious of the an
are concerned about 1га
fear the loss of Ameri
they are part of the new eth
lution, which is ging
melting-pot concept. There is a g
sense of Jewish iden
n ethnic consciousness that
in all the good

ist left. They
I's security and
support. And

с revo-
old
rowing

the

that

rejoices
ity of Israel
ows

n the strength
Kahane is more
but cven
of us who complete: sympathy
with his motives still say to him: Come
on home, Meir. Forget this new politi
cal party you Israel, stop
this juvenile terrorism, cut
out the snide ren қайты non-
Orthodox Jews and join the real fig
the fight for Jewish pride and ethni

awareness in America.
Rabbi Israel B. Koller
Santa Barbara, Californ

those

interview with Kah;
im down.

Reading y
I felt а growing urge to put |
Bur. as Û realized later, he does the job
better himself. It is ironic that the ve
people who suffered. the most at the
hands of rampant. nationalism. аге now
treading the same path, toward

eli
members evermore-
lı Defense League
Bill Smee
Elkhart, Indiana

‘Those who justify violence are, in a
se tha those who commit it. By
his words and actions, Kahane has put
himself and his group in com]
the Palestinian terrorists
dams King Hussein appears clearly а
more rational and—in this instance, at
Ieasi—a more moral man than the good
rabbi himself.

way, wi

Sidney Krome
Baltimore, Maryland

пуопе is going lo fan the flames of
itism, it’s Kahane. There is ab-
solutely no logic to his thinking that he
an Jews only by тш
them into street fighters. Hlogicality,
fact, seems to be the core of Kahane's
problem. What interests me most is his
claim that pacifism is not a Jewish tra-
dition. Before modern Isracl. the
stances of armed Jewish resistance to
foreign domination could he counted on

one band. That history covers a span of
over 4000 year
(Name withheld by request)
Brooklyn, New York

Kahane can deny to his dying day that
the ideology of his group is [i
But any reasoned compa
terview and Mein Kampf will present.

the
ved.

of

sting
God м

is to make his people
more militant in the service of nai
ism. The tragedy is that there is a
n of legitimate Jewish griev-
the American Jewish com-
must. redress. ionalism
tied before, ws should
better th: that it j

compendiu

know
doesn't work.

Alan Moskowitz
Brooklyn, New Vork

Rabbi

Kahane is right when he says
o Jewish future in this county
; re de white, Aryan and
cventually—according to the immutable
laws of ical development—National
st. Nothing can alter this
rabbi would therefore be
ed to abandon his p: threats
of violence aga ans of
Aryan background who choose to believe
National Socialism. He would also һе
sed to remember that two can
play the same game—as our Arab friends
proved in h. Should the rabbi
persi. in his mania for violence, he
might well trigger a response that would
the lives and fortunes of Ameri-
can Jews everywhere, Heil Hitler!
Matt Koehl. Commander
National Socialist White
People’s Party
Arlington. Virginia

nst these А.

FOR THE RECORD
Your October review of The Be;

gars

Opera erroneously credits the score to
1732). This is a com-

John Gay (16
mon mistake. The opera’s music was
adapted. hom popular folk songs and
famous tunes of other composers. by onc
Johann Christoph Pepusch, a Gern

musi
years in s merely
brettist. Pi epusch was I of Handel's
and The Beggar's Opera was his
tion to the stully and st
seria. of which Handel was Europe's
foremost exponent and which dominated
London's operatic stages during the first
half of the 18th Century.

Richard А. Shapp

Temple University

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania

eotyped opera

ELLSBERG AGONISTES

Joe McGinnis sensitive writing on
The Ordeal of Daniel Ellsberg (Pravno
October) gives us the inside story of a
singular man who can overcome |
childhood hang-ups and feel compassion
for the people of Viemam. Ellsberg is
far from being a brittle
martyr: his first
out and he still con:
erated because no one is making him
pradice piano, АЙ the same, he will
undoubtedly go down in history as a
great American—on а par with Spock,
Einstein and Dr.

Charles А. McLear
Dayton, Ohio

T am a Vietnam veteran in complete
sympathy with Ellsberg. He served in
responsible positions both here and іп
Vietnam and he knows whut he's talking
about. I cam assure you that the View
mamese would sooner have the Сон
ts in power now they would he
beter off. If anyone should be tried, it's
Johnson and Nixon, not Ellsberg.
Richardson
Lackland AFB. Texas

“her
displayed а realis
the condition of the
ng a hero
id accepting their cc
ıs McGinnis shows us, being

miss’ moving account of

hero is not much fur
1 thon iss penned
cellent and revealing sketch of. Ellsberg,

Whether or not one agrees with Ells-
berg's antics, one must p
reportorial. objectivity.
appearing from journalis
Del Schrader

Arcadia, €

virtue

forni

І hope. for your sake, that Joe МСС
s' The Ordeal of Daniel Ellsberg has
more truth to it than the fiction he wrote
about the 1968 media campaign
John № Mitchell
Washington. D.C.
Mr. Mitchell is the husband of Aar-
tha Mitchell.
E

SS E SE SS
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To reproduce this soumi
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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

Үз lib, take note: An art

Science magazine tells the provoc-
ive story of the Austral a
fingerlength fish more precisely known
as Laboides dimitadus. The male wrasse
normally cruises the Great Barrier Rect
with a harem of three to six females.
When he dies, the most aggressive female
in the harem undergoes behavioral and
physiological changes that result in her
transformation into a male. The zoolo-
ist who studied these fish concluded
that when a female wrasse finds herself
not dominated, she takes on a
gressive behavior pattern withi
Tu less than two wecks, her ov

ies have
1 looks, ac
ad bodily equipment—she is in-
ible from 2 male. Hmm.

turned into testicles and-

tion

distingu

A suggestion for the American Medical
Asociation: In ancient China, people
paid the doctor to keep them well.
When they got sick, he had to pay them.

Now that the clection is over, we can
report this tidbit without giving equal
time: A large banner on the side of a
Greyhound bus carrying Gay Liberation

members to the Democratic Convention
proclaimed: ТАКЕ А GAYHOUND BUS AND
LEAVE THE DRIVER FOR US.

Incidental Intelligence, Housebreak-
ing Division: The Wall Street Journal
1 California have sold
y water beds for pets.

reports that store
thousands of

We hereby invent—and. posthumously
award—the Porno Peace Prize, It goes to
the late Office of Strategic Services, fore-
runner of the CIA, for conceiving an
ingenious scheme to end World War
Two with a giant smut bomb. In his
book on the OSS, R. Harris Smith re-
veals that Hitler was psychoanalyzed in
absentia by some topllight American
shrinks who concluded he was а border-
line psychotic with fierce sexual hang-

ups. This inspired a plan to bomb the
Führers headquarters tons of
hard-core pornographic pictures in the
hope that Adolf would freak out com-
pletely and have to be sidelined. The
0.5. Army Air Corps, alas, refused to
cooperate, and. the plan was scratched.
San Francisco Chronicle columnist
Herb Caen reports one of his readers
spotted a cop with а HAVE A NICE DAY
happy-face sticker—on his revolver.
The municipal code of Ashland, Kı
tucky, contains this solemn ordinance:
“No person shall knowingly keep or har-
bor at his or her house within the city
any woman of ill repute, lewd cha
or a common
wife, mother or sister."

with

acier
prostimite—other. than

We can remember when all you could
expect was a free bar of soap in your
mailbox. A few months ago, free sam-
ples of pot were delivered 10 front
porches in Winona, Minnesota
with a card inscribed “Marijui
pliments of your local pusher:

According to the Alpine, California,
Sun, a young lady named Pam “has a
gorgeous four-year-old stud with iwo
white cocks" Pam, the Sun informs
us “is g him ready for some

along

geui
fall shows.”

Thi

s cle:

ronment?

g up the envi
The Reel, a porno moviehouse in Albu
querque, has advertised: “It's ecology
time at the Recl. We're recyding our
wash, Three all-time hits return.”

Doubtless to protect the public from
the threat of winged ladies, the Rolls
Royce corporation has taken out a new
British patent, admiringly described by
The New Scientist as “basically а sen-
sible invention which will contribute
toward road safety." The device is an

automatic retractor tha

pulls the hood
ornament into the engine cavity in the
event of collision.

"The latest breakthrough in the sex
revolution was chronicled in the classified
section of The Berkeley Barb: “Jewish
man, 3, secks girl interested in mar

From a U.P.L. item datelined San An-
tonio, we li » that one Gem L. Poe
s struck by lightning while sawing а
tree limb. Poe was uninjured, but the
bolt melted his nylon socks and welded
his fly shut.

wi

Who says a woman's life is dull? Two
Years in My Afternoon, a novel by Eliza-
beth Ayrton, is advertised thus: “Bizarre
sexual entanglements, a child psychiatrist,
a suicida] poctess a roving but loving
husband, three marriageable daughters
and a decaying country estate provide
complications that every woman will find
um

The education reporter for Salem's
Oregon Statesman had trouble expla
ing why students were transferring. from
city to suburban schools, He did mote,
however, that in at least one city school,
"a complete senior high cunt was un-
available.”

Our London correspondent has come
across The Natural Method of Healing,
а volume published in 1898 by Dr. F. E
Bilz, in which there's a section оп "Sclf-
Abuse." Dr z writes, “This belongs to
the dass of carnal vices and consists in
unnatural self-satisfaction of the sexual
instinct, causing mental and bodily de-
bility, degeneration and complete disin
tegr The parents тич have a
watchful eye on the child, must not allow
it to sleep alone in а room, nor must th
trouble of going to the child's couch dur-
ing the night to see whether the child
sleeps or not be spared. Threatened with
these investigations, the child will hardly
venture to perpetrate the vice; should it

tion

21

PLAYBOY

22

the hands must be
covered with thick gloves with only
thumb, tying them firmly round the wrist.
Or the child may be put at night into a
gown, cut so as to completely cover body
nbs, which cows even the most
hardened little sinner.” Perhaps appro-
priately, the nest section of the book is
titled “I

has been made by
a Hy old construc
Stimator from

mento. Several months ago.
boarded a Pacific Southwest flight for

k. The plane was hijacked over
cisco. forced. to laud at the

distant edge of il

finally

of negot 1

dramatic shootout \

Next alternoon, hi his

business. Lingnau took his seat on the

PSA return flight to Sacramento and,
yes, he was hijacked again. Thus, he be-
came the first man in history to be hi-
icked twice in less than 21 hours. We
hope that’s a record to stand. and we
were interested in what the world’s most
experienced hijack victim might have to
say about his adventures. In an age of
New York to Cleveland. via. Guatemala
the public needs to know about these

called nd.
him safely on the ground i
mento office. proceeded to ask h
questions. He narrated the events with
eat detail and in a cold. dispassionate
language that brought d the tough
prose of Raymond Ch We first
asked Lingnau when he realized he was
hijacked on his first trip.

finding
his Sacr

UE gor wind of it when one of the
PSA stewardeses Gime up to а TWA

stewardess. who w board to cach

connecting San Fr isco,
and told her to take her pin ofl—so
they wouldn't hold her hostage,” he
said.

What was your first reaciionz"
h, heh. Beh." Lingnau dau
rs strange. You get a sort of helpless

ut You're nor armed.
t know what the hell's gonna
happen. You Hung out to dry
You want 10 do something, but what
in yon do?
Did you talk with the hijacker
“No. they talked through the stew

feeling in von

You d

stuck

ardesses. 1 didit even. know whit de
mands theyd made until P read the
papers. I you want 10 watch а hijack.
. the passenger section. his the worst
s in the house.”
Miter they wok over the plane,
where did it go?
We landed in San Francisco. Out

there—you proba
the

bly saw the picture i
papers—in the middle of nowhere.
sat there .. . well. we sat there for

ar four hours Still
know what was going on. They
started letting people go to the h
‚+. Had to.”

“How did that first episode end

“FBI agents came on board. As I got
it Tater, the first ЕНІ guy was supposed
to be a TWA navigator who could take
the hijackers out of the country. He
came up the front ramp that leads to
the niche where they served coffee and
booze. ( there, With
two pistols. The gent came up
with his hands behind his head. All of
а sudden, there was a revolver in his
hand. And about this time, another FBI
man. came from under the plane, where
hed been hiding, ran a

ET

ker, By
agent had ce
t the hijacker
is first FBI guy

d
down the aisle firing
the rear ol the

nc

"
plane. TI

showed me some waining He didnt
pan his gun back and forth, Passengers
would've been in the ob fire. In-
stead, he raised it, th it

down the aisle and emp о the
guy at the back. He did a hell of a job."

“But wasnt a passenger killed iu the
gunfire;

Yes, 1 talked with the guy who was
i across Irom him. He told me that
Іо stood up. Thats when he
caught the slug in his back. My advice
to hijacked passengers is simple: Duck.”

“What was the general react
other passengers during the
“There was no screaming. Everybody
was scrambling to hit the deck. Jt all
lasted about twenty seconds.

You must have been pretty unsettled.”

Хо, mot really. Even alterward, 1
was OK. Oh, 1 had сіз,
what the hell."

What about the second hijack
must have been an incredible sensation
to realize it was happening

"Yes, it was, heh, heh. The mst thought
that came was just plain, "Oh, shit” I
mean, what else can. you think?”

How did this one happen:

On ihe second flight, we stopped. in
Oakland. and thats where we took on
friend. He di serous
pout it, Just wanted the publicity, 1
think. He let Ше stewardesses serve
drinks, so everybody was pretty calm.
No panic. A lew of the women cied,
but they kept it зой. I think the stew-
dese helped a lot. | know they're
trained for this sort ol thing, but, Jest
even so, they're usually prety young
They were emendou

“How did the wip end

Well, he told the capiain
San Diego, The women and children
had been allowed тө leave the plane
Oakland. Then a stewardess said the
hijacker had agreed to release everyone
clc il two men would volunteer to sta

the

ss

lew extr

in.

iUi seem to

broads.

» lind

We were o indicate if we
would volunteer by turning on the stew
ardess call light overhead. I think every
one of them was turned on. So he picked
two men, one of whom was а highway
] d already informed
n. through the stewardess. that
med. The hijacker finally lei
the other guy go. too, and just kept the
The ly landed

weren't chosen.
I'd been unlucky How much
more unlucky could 1 get? The odds
were with me. I wish I'd had а ber on
the chances of getting hijacked the sec
ond time. Especially in so short a time
Г wouldn't have to be working for a
living anymore."

So your advice for passe
hijacked planes is to stay low?

“And be calm. E mean, what else can
you do

їз aboard.

BOOKS

No need to worry about the size of
friend's waist or neck in searching for a
fitting last-minute gift this holiday sea-
son. Аз Jong as you know the dimensions
of his or her mind. you can count on
your Livorite bookstore to supply а work
that will su friend to а T. Here

with, а few new offerings that strike our

you

Motisse
novich) is m
deserved. ийин 1 mod
these two beautifully designed. volumes.
with their hundreds of photographs and
prints. the reader can find rare insights
artists. incentives, meth
and accomplishments. Aragon.
E Ма Every canvas.
every sheet of paper over which his cha
coal. his pencil or his pen wandered is
Matisse’s utterance about himself

IVs through this that E have sought 16 re:
il my protagonist.” He has succeeded
tly

that acquaint Saver
cl with nostaly 1 things
there is The Police Gazette (М
) Gene Smith's colleciiu
enhanced. by

(Ha
ve than

^ Henri

ver. In

wh
for

past
& Schust

non

1 of

scanda
duct

ems repre:

ons of the or woodcuis—

the fading pages of that yellow јон
ol yesteryear, featuring such hot items as
“RAID IN THE TENDERLOIN: Night Scenes
in the Station Following the Raid

of Clarks Notorious New York Dive,
Where Wine, Women and Song Were in
Full Sway." On the subject of women
and nostalgia, have a look at The Most
of John Held (Stephen Greene), 177 illus-
trations from the pens
whose maga

"AS A SECOND VIOLINIST

I HARDIYGET NOTICED”

-büt Im easily recognizable at home thanks to the

It's hard enough to distinguish Philip
Scharf from his fellow violinists
when you hear them in the concert
hall. At home, it's next to impossible.
Ordinary equipment brings vou
the sound ot an orchestra, when
what you should be hearing
sound of the separate instrum
within the orchestra. You hear music,
but not musical instruments. Whi
s unfortunate if you happen to like
second violinists. And catastrophic
if you happen to be one
That's why Philip Scharf owns
a Harman/Kardon 75+
The 75 + is a new receiver
designed to reproduce even the
slightest differences between
instruments. Itcan capture the timbre
of an oboe, the quiver in a violinist's
bow —all the subtleties that set one
musician apart from another. “You
can practically hear the rosin falling
from my bow; says Philip Scharf.
(Attention, electronics
enthusiasts: this capability of the
75+ is due to its extremely wide
frequency response and superior
phase linearity. Every nuance is
reproduced in proper phase with
every other one— instead of
nningalltopetherlikethis. And at
45 RMS watts per channel, i
h virtually

handle tone bursts v
no distortion.)

Soa75* will bring
you've never heard before, even
from tapes and records you already

have. But it can also he used in more

ways than you've ever used a
receiver before
Besides using it as a stereo

receiver, vou can use it as two sterco

receivers. If you have an extra set
of speakers, connect them to your
75+ and create an extra stereo
system. You can listen to Beethoven
in the living room and Bread in the
den, and each system has its own
tone controls.

You can use it as a four-channel
receiver. Right now. Put all your
speakers in one room and you have
the most advanced music system
available, The 75+ has four
jers to play the records and
tapes you now own through four

speakers. It also has a unique phasing

Te Scharf, second: mr
Chicago Symphony Orchestra.

circuit which takes your regular
stereo material and reproduces it
as “enhanced stereo" And it sounds
as beautiful as it does technical.

Of course, as soon as you decide
to buy Four-channel records, the
75 + is ready to play them.

IF you love music, the best reason
for owning a 75+ was summed up
by no less an authority than Philip
Schart himself

It's given me a whole new
appreciation of me”

NOTE: If your high fidelity store
doesn't have the Harman/Kardon
75+ yet, don't give up the search.
Write us and we'll tell you where
to hear it: Harman/Kardon Inc.,
Music Appreciation Dept., 55 Ames
Court, Plainview, N.Y. 11803.

harman/kardon
the music company

Distributed in Canada by Harman Kardon of Canad

Ltd, Cote de Liesse Rd, Montreal 700, Quebec.

PLAYBOY

24

For the man 6 who wants

to experience all the

creative pleasures
of photography

The Great Themes reveals the techniques of the masters in

each of the six major areas of photography represented

above

{TIME}
LIFE

BOOKS

ЕЕ TIME.LIFE BOOKS, DEPT. 3418 p

TIME & LIFE BUILDING, CHICAGO, ILL. 60611
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Accept this volume

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FREE with your purchase of THE CAMERA:

* This valuable 64-page pocket-size
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Шы, да

TS the possibilities of photography
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startlingabstractionsin yourowndarkroom,
And now, this whole marvelous world of
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Here, in magnificently illustrated vol-
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it "speak" to the viewer. Famous LIFE
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you their personal tips and trade secrets.

You'll learn about all the possibilities
open to you in the darkroom, too—from

the basics of developing, printing, dodging
and burning-in to special effects such as
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And by examining a magnificent gallery
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Accept The Camera for 10-days free

Just as a picture is worth a thousand words,
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Capture the natural wonders of Life around
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Actual book size:

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Photography as aTool, |
Color, The Print,
Light and Film,
Photojournalism,
The Studio,
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Photographing Nature.

Special Problems shows you how to take the kinds of pictures that make people
say, "I wonder how he ever got a shot like that!"

25

PLAYBOY

26

and flappers of the Twenties have come
acterize that giddy decade.

ive will get you seven that you'll find
everything any reasonable or unreasona-
ble gambler could want to know about
poker. rummy, bridge, pinochle, casino,
hearts, blackjack, craps, roulette, horse
racing, chess, Scrabble, ghost and permu-
tations of same in Playboy's Book of Games
(Playboy Press), assembled by Edwin
Silberstang and designed to be “А Мой-
crn Hoyle for the Sophisticated On-the-
Go Gamble

o middle ground in bo:
—you either dig it or you despi
Eminent sportswriter Rex Lardner ob-
viously is taken with “the manly art.” In
The Legendary Champions (American Heri-
tage Press) he transports us from the
bare-knuckle era through the reign of
Gene Tunney. He evidently believes that

only the heavyweights are due the ac-
colade legendary. Ah. well, no matter.
Lardner re-creates the personae of box-

ing’s past in superlative fashion. And the
layout, type and use of photographs make
this a knockout of à book.

By all odds the season's most elegant
art book is The Visconti Hours (Brazil-
ler, a reproduction of luminated.
manuscript created by two Italian artists
of the late Ith and carly 15th centuries.
The combination of childlike pictures
nd sumptuous color is evocative of a
religious impulse that has always com-
bined innocence with splendor. A treat
for the senses.

Down Home (McGraw-Hill) is described
modestly as а "social port of Wil-
cox County. in the heart of black-belt
Alabama. It is that—and more. Veteran
photographer Bob Adclman’s scores of
blackand-white pictures of blacks and
whites in and around the county seat of
Camden between 1965 and 1970 are
sharp and revealing of place and charac
ıer. Enriched by the people's own words,
astutely edited by Susan Hall, these pho-
tographs document the painful efforts of
a Southern town to come to grips with
astic changes in its way of life.

André Kertész: Sixty Years of Photography
1912-1972 (Grossman) is an eloquent
statement of the photographer's achieve-
k-and-white pictures,
lovingly reproduced, tellingly display
how Kertész got at the heart of the hu-
п condition all over the world. A
artist, Kertész has received not
у the popular acclaim he deserves.

Around the turn of the century, Ed-
ward Sheriff Curtis set forth with his
camera to captine the spirit of the
ishing Indian life іп North America.
After decades in rare-book collections,
his monumental accomplishment has
been made available to the populace in
the outsized Portraits from North American
Indian Life (Outerbridge & Lazard),
generous selection of Curtis’ wondrous
photographs.

A melancholy yet beautiful volume is

Diary of the "Terra Nova” Expedition to the
Antarctic 1910-1912 (Humanities Press), by
Edward Wilson. Thc author, who pcr-
ished on Scott's ill-fated expeditio
duced a series of water colors and р
through most of the trek (whose
ation was the South Pole)
that convey the paradoxical grandeur and
desolation of the polar region. Wilson’s
final note to his parents, when he knew
that death was only hours away, shows a
man accepting his fate with selfless cour-
ge. A moving experience,

bout 50 years, Eddie Condon
eping a scrapbook of his travels
about the land with banjo. Sensibly
tilled The Eddie Condon Scrapbook of Jazz
(St. Martin's). it is now open to public
Jaze bulls cannot fail to find
n these photos of the
of Louis Armstrong, Sidney Bechet, Pec
Wee Russell and many other greats, all
taken in their prime.

The Gentleman's Alphabet Book (Dutton),
with eerie drawings by Harvey Kornberg
and queer limericks by Donald Hall,
admits us to a 19th Century world. of
dirty old men of all ages. To wit: “Unde
Bertram politely stops by / To sce M.
giret, and Enid, and Vi, / But induced
by some gland.) Or the Devil, his hand /
Always crawls on to Montague’s thigh."

The Don Juan referred to іп Asimov's
Annotated "Don Juan” (Doubleday) is, of
couse, Lord Byron's great creation.
The Asimov referred to is, of course,
noue other than the tireles; Isaac
who, in his role of professional cx-
plainer, lets contemporary readers in on
the allusions that fill this highly allusive
comic epic. Milton Glasers drawings
make it handsome as well as еше
taining volume.

For anybody with a trip to London in
foreseeable Пише, Don Goddiud's
ey (Quadrangle) is just the ticket.

Understatedly subtitled “Another Book
About London,” it contains everything
a sensible visitor wants to know and

good deal of value that most visitors
don't know they want to know, all de-
livered in direct, no-nonsense style.

Autosport devotees will have а field
day with Charles Fox's The Great Racing
Cars and Drivers (Ridge Press), not so much
for the test-

although that is interesting

enough in itself, covering as i
nearly six decades of auto тас
for the absolutely smashing color pho-

tography splashed generously through-
out the coffee-table-sized book. J. Barry
O'Rourke's salonlike shots of Indy cars
are especially striking.

In the quarter century before his
death last June, Ken W, Purdy had be-
come the writer on
automobiles who dri
them. His best a
ran in this magazine, have been gi
together in Ken Purdy's Book of Automobiles
(Playboy Press). Here are his revealing

men

ered

pieces on cars from the Model T Ford
to the Jaguar, on drivers from Tazio
Nuvolari to Jackie Stewart. A fi
remembrance of а superb craftsman.

Just as Teddy White has become the
nation's quasi-official historian of the
making of the President, so Norman
Mailer has become the quadrennial phi-
losopher-poct of our nominating conven-
tions. Four years Mailer preserved
1 prose the rivalries of the Republicans
in Miami and the horrors of the Demo-
crats at the siege of Chicago. Now,
n St. George and the Godfather (Signet),
he attempts to repeat the performance
for both Miami-based 1972 conventions.
Posing again as Aquarius, the admittedly
subjective observer and commentator,
Mailer
npossible task of giving those g
occasions. depth, color and
There insightful de
character (Wallace, "dign
through pain and medi Hum-
phrey. like a man “whose features. had
been repaired after an accident"); flashes.
of wit and raucous humor: уу out
at young Republicans and liberated
women; and the yptic questions
(Is dread still loose in America? Are
counterespionage and Christianity the
tue poles of the Republican Рату).
Though Mailer doggedly follows the
of each convention, tak-
neithe
rd 10 cele-

are

ul the scenes,

ng us bel
really worthy of him. I's h
brate or even analyze boredom—whether
it's the product of McGovern righteous-
ness or of Nixon calculatia

Can an anthropologist trained for re-
search in the jungles of New Guinea
find romance, adventure and а Ph.D.
thesis in the subcultural jungles of
urb Americaz indeed, if that
nthropologist is young. attractiv
willing to sign on as a dancer in a top
less bar. And yes again if she has а hus-
band who will “pimp off” her earnings
in that same bar, where he can keep 3
eye on her and gather information about
the bar's clients, Christina and Richard
Milner did exactly that, made it through
raduate school and now us the
low-down on the high life in Black Ployers
(Little, Brown). subtitled “The Secret
World of Blac The black
player lives in а wonderland where life
is regarded as а game and society's most
treasured values are honored almost en-
tirely in the breach. Here the good wom-
n is the "ho" and the good man the
pimp who lives off her. Here status is
ssured only by generosity: To become
a "boss player" you may have to blow
a hundred grand on
friends. Here control over sexuality is
erted by men—“I don't give no dick
without money"—and mother is as much

was

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PLAYBOY

an enemy as Whitey. The stress is on
fice enterprise, the need for appropriate
clothing, language and male networks to
make it, and on bargaining that raises
deceit to a high art and transforms ordi-
discourse into poetry. The irony of
the similarity between pimp and busi-
nessman is never lost on the pimp. The
Milners make no excuses for pimp bru-
tality or lawlessness, and they were as
bemused by the financial, sartorial and
linguistic extravagance of this ghetto
world as their readers will be. But their
lity to accept and abide by the rules
of “the Game,” their obvious liking for
some of the players and prostitutes, and
their respect for the logic of their world
give this book a gusto rare in most nov-
els. And that ain't "talkin' trash.”

aking of pimps. Gentlemen of Leisure
(New American Library) gives us "A
Year in the Life of a Pimp," as cap-
tured by the camera of Bob Adelman

Sp

and the tape recorder of Susan Hall, the
team responsible for Down Home. The
gentleman in

question calls himself
m is pimp. but I don't
usc it. I'm a professional gentleman of.
leisure. I have absolutely nothing to do.

connoisseur of resting and a television
. 1 do make more money than the
President of the United States. If I were
n another way of life, I'd have to hustle
more. As aL never had al-
nyway. I could have played
fist base, run the mile or become an
entertainer, but I was а natural pimp,
so I just pursued my talents.”

Into the silent Fifties of Dwight D.
Eisenhower whizzed Jack Kerouac. He
was an automatic writer, autobiographi-
cally spicing about automobile spree-
inp. His oeuvre recalling the days
when he and his country-crossing friends
stayed up late smoking pot, drinking
wine, listening to jazz—but mostly just
d one another "beatifically." After
On the Road, which was à runaway
best seller, The Subtemaneans became
Hollywood's first fling into the subcul-
ture, and Kerouac himself soon emerged
as a paraliterary figure, perforn
night clubs, reading poctry on
being profiled in Time and published
even in The Saturday Evening Post.
But then his celebrity waned, critics
dismantled (Truman Capote
put down his writing as ic
typing") and the public deserted him
Kerouac was publishing more and being
noticed less. His was the fate of any
literary fad, the coming of age of any
enfant terrible. By the time he died in
obscurity in Florida in 1969 at the age
of 47, the man who had symbolized the
Beat Generation seemed a bloated par-
ody of his former self: а beersw
TV-vatching, domesticated, churchgoing

his wor

от:

But Visions of Cody (Мс.
posthumously published

remained unchanged. He was still а very
uneven writer in the great Ame
uadition of Whitman and Wolfe—capa-
ble of lyric genius, of panoramic passages
of vast sweep, but too often carried away
by a sophomoric overdrive. The cha
ters in Visions of Cody are all familiar
members of the Kerouac road company
thin fictional disguises of himself, Allen
Ginsberg, William Burroughs and the
fabled Neal Cassady as Cody. The story
line—or rather route—consists of their
travels and travails, and mostly talk,
through inner space on drugs and across
the national geography in cars, with
every mile, every syllable, every "whore
memory” treated with equal reverence.
And the theme again is the Kerouac
quest for the mythical long-lost brother.
At times he sounds a bit like T. S. Eliot
("Тһе poor lonely old ladies of Lowell
who come out of the fiveandten with
their umbrellas open for the rai
other times he can be awkwardly rem
cent of Theodore Diciser ("Tom Watson
on this lovely earth was a crippled boy
who lived in unostentatious pain with
his grandmother in a (комогу house
under great sidestreet trees"). There are
also pastiches reminiscent of Proust and
sentences that see ight out of Her
ingway (71 feel as though everything
used to be alright: and now everything
is automatically bad"). But it's all K
ouac, his own pantheistic self, celebrating
with saccharine innocence "the unbeat
able sweetness of man

strewing everywhere fond and flowery
farewells (“Adios, you who watched the

sun go down, at the rail, by my side,
smiling—Adios King”). He deserves
from us at least one wistful wave, опе
last sentimental goodbye of the road.

The coterie of admirers of John. Wi
liams Stoner and Butcher's Crossing is
likely to lose its exclusiveness with the
publication of Augustus (Viking). Novel
or history, this is an excellent book
in so many ways that Williams is bound,
at last, to find a readership somewhat
1 keeping with his talent Augustus,
of course, deals with the Emperor Gaius
Julius Octavianus, the august,
successor to the gre s who,
while still practically a boy, faced down
such formidable opponents as Anton
Cicero and Brutus to make good his
grandunde’s declaration of succession.
Shuttling between the years 44 в.с. and
М aw. (the year of Augustus’ death),
principals and auxiliaries to the d
of empire pen letters to friends, collabo-
rators, hi s, poets, lovers and. be-

ning events that imp
Thus, one gets to

Je

necessary ruthlessness reflected in his
style. Even more subtle and effective is
the way the author has his strong and
dangerous protagonist addressed by oth-
ers, in a counterpointing of sender and
receiver, commentator and commented
upon, so that the chiaroscuro of charac-
ter is established and maintained by
the testimony of many different. voices
Sometimes the author allows a particular
character his own voice for а protracted.
comment, as in the case of Augustus in
the dosing section of the novel, ге
Ше emperor broods іп a letter to а

wh

friend, chillingly and at times heart-
breakingly, on the terrible exigencies of

power. Or from the diary of Augustus’
daughter, Julia, who writes sentiments
of such pathos and power that they

the Milletts and. Steinems sound

like pale copies of the real thing. Wil-
liams states
grateful to
book as it

a preface that he will be
those readers who take his

intended—a work of the
Readers can be grateful to
g made it a superior work

im for har

of the imagination.
Noteworthy: Without о Stitch in Time
(Little, Brown) brings together thc

choicest items from Peter De Vries's
30 years of comic writing, than which
there is little more comic in contempo-
тагу letters. In quite a different spirit is
The John Collier Reader (Knopf), a collec-
tion of over 46 tales and the complete
novel His Monkey Wife, guaranteed for

many spine-tingling hours
armchair. And Sadness (Farrar, Straus &

Giroux) is the tide of the ini ble
Donald Barthelme's new collection of

short stories, which linger in the
imagination.

MOVIES
Looking trim and tough, muscles

bulging against his jeans and blue-denim
work shirt, Charles Bronson comes to
the door with a blonde toddler named
Zuleika wrapped around his left hip.
‘Typecast, he would be perfectly at home
in a Pennsyly
worried eyes upon a w
though his home for the moment hap-
pens to be a VIP suite in М
Hotel Pi
abouts (but who's counting?), he is one
of the highest paid actors
—despite the fact that he's been seen in
this country mostly as a supporting thug
in such epics as The Magnificent Seven,
and in The Great Escape and The Dirty
Though he starred in—and prof.

rre. At the age of 50 or th

lomely from—Chato’s Land,
you may not be aware that last y
he was voted the most popular actor

the world by Hollywood's fore
corps. Thanks to films made, and shown.

n press

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PLAYBOY

30

almost entirely in Europe, he receives
ectatic fan mail from Lebanon and
Yugoslavia; in Japan, he outdraws every
other star, Eastern and occidental.

Bronson has touched down in New
York on behalf of The Valachi Papers
and The Mechanic, two new movies ex-
pected to make his name a houschold
word over here. Speaking of houscholds,
Bronson and his wile, English actress Jill
Ireland, head an entourage of a dozen or
so, counting their own Zul nd five
children of earlier marriages, plus maids
nd tutors, who stay together most of the
me—cither in their California home or
abroad, wherever Bronson is worl
Currently, they're scouting for a country
home in Vermont. “California is all
ght, but I never felt part of it,” says
Bronson, whose views of life in the U. S.
are terscly summarized: "I don't sec any
difference between the Mafia and the
al partes running the country
* But he doesn't want anybody to
get him wrong: "I'm so bloody patriotic
it's ridiculous."

Born in Ehrenfield, Pennsylvania,
to a large Lithuanian-Russian’ family
med Buchinsky, Bronson took apti-
tude tests under the CI Bill following
Army service and а wayward youth
coal miner. part-time burglar (he
robbed the company store) and hobo.
“The testers told me I should go into so-
cial service" More qualified as a recip-
ient of that service, he stayed alive f
а while with jobs as a pitch

a

А

worked a Thril-O game in Atlantic

City, making $75 for a seven-day week. 1
also used to stand on street comers ped-
dling Christmas cards. One week I made
three and a half dollars.”

Bronson's Jot improved when he de-
cided he couldn't possibly do worse than
the actors he saw in а touring produc-
tion of Anna Lucasta. Not long alter
ward, he landed a bit part in а Navy
picture starring Cary Cooper and was
on his roundabout way to superstardom
—though practically no one іп Cali-
fornia saw it coming.

The European phase of Bronson's ca-
reer took off in 1968, when he made
movie France with n Delon
(titled Farewell, Friend, still unreleased
here), 1 usly refused. di-
rector Sergio Leone's offer to do a
spaghetti Western called A Fisiful of
Dollars (Leone signed Clint Eastwood
instead, and the rest is history). Charley
subsequently did a horse opera for Leone,
Once Upon a Time in the West, which
ran in one West Berlin theater for four
ad a half years. Then came the French
se drama Rider on the Rain, gross-
alone. Today,
Bronson’s name on a marquee means
y in the bank to movic-industry
investors all over the globe, and his
agents are threatening to raise hell with
a theater in Munich that advertises

Bronson above the title of Four for
Texas, а 1965 Dean Martin-Frank
Sinatra Western in which he appears
for five minutes at most.

Where does he go from here? Both
Bronson and Jill shrug off the question.
Money is no longer a problem: the
needs, they say, are simple. When there
are no official limousines calling for
them, they prefer to travel by motorbike,
and Charley gets around thé Hollywood
hills in a thrce-quarter-ton pickup truck.
Hardly а Continental sophisticate, he
insists his French is lousy, though he has
lost the “Scooptown accent” he picked
up from Ehrenfield's mixture of Welsh,
Irish, Spanish, Lith n and Yugo-
slavian immigrants. "I have а tongue
like a plank. When I do a language
track for film, I learn the French
log phoncticall5p" As to being a
sex symbol from Amsterdam to Kyoto,
Bronson wryly acknowledges his rep
tation for refusing to do nude, or graph-
ically sexy, scenes in a film. "Violence
is different, it's performed in public,
usually. But sex is very private, and
they do it the same way in every pi
ture, as a treat for voyeurs. Hell, Tm
no prude, The first time I screwed a
girl, I was only five and a half years
old and she ix. I offered her a
bottle of cherry pop. So she lay down
and drank her pop and I dimbed on
top of her. Nothing much happened, of
course. But Гуе screwed girls in wheel-
barrows and sewer pipes, Sex is not
a subject I'm afraid of. Our children
are sexually informed; we deliberately
inform them. Sometimes it’s our chief
topic at the di

Bronson claims his dream of the fu-
ture is to be a prospector or to spend
a lot of time beachcombing. But Mrs.
Bronson insists that Charley exaggerates
his professional detachment. While they
were working together in The Valachi
Papers, she reminds him, his concentra-
tion was so intense he couldn't seem to
shake off the role at night. "It was
weird. 1 felt as if I were married to one
of the soldiers in the Мапа,” she says,
smiling. "He's really a very serious
acto

Bronson good-naturedly mods agrec-
ment. "She's right. I like acting better

than anything else.”
Whether or not The Valachi Papers
boosts Charles Bronson to superstar

status in America, his performance as Joe
Valachi—the Mafia informer whose te
mony in front of a Congressional crime
committee in 1963 ultimately proved
more beneficial to politidans th
harmful to mafosi—is honest, affecting
and strangely poignant. The role of
squealer offers little of the machismo
associated with Bronson’s established.
image, but the story of Valachi is none-
theless compelling and carries the sting

of documentary truth pressure
reportedly tried to discourage the por-
trayal of such те
Lucky Luciano, Albert Anastasia and
Vito Genovese (Don Vito is played to
bristling perfection by France’s Lino
Ventura), whose presence gives Papers
real impact. Based on the book by Peter
Maas, the film unfolds chiefly іп flash-
backs outlining Valachi's early career as
a Майа hit man, his wooing of a slain
capo's daughter (Bronson's wife, Jill Ire-
land) and his subsequent invoiveme
in many nefarious рап].
cluding a brutal episode
chi witnesses the castration of his best
friend, a mafioso swordsman convicted
of balling Genovese's broad. The 1957
ssassination of Anasta: n a Manhat-
n hotel barbershop and the infamous
Apalachin meeting of Mob chieftains
are among the incidents that trip one’s
memory like a morning headline. Unde
director Terence Young, The Valachi
Papers is a somber, straightforward
chronicle, lacking the razzle-dazzle show
manship of The Godfather but likewise
lacking a questionable tendency to treat
heels as semiheroes trapped by а feudal
code of honor. Bronson's unsenti
ized yet thoroughly human port
a turncoat killer sets the tone [о
atmospheric gangland drama in which
cowardice, treachery and cruelty are
shown to be precisely that—without rc-
deeming virtues.

One of the biggest and brightest sur-
prises of the movie year is Diana Ross as
the late Billie Holiday in Ledy Sings the
Blues. While the former lead singer of
The Supremes brings a hint of Motown
sound to her renditions of such Holiday
sta ls as Strange Fruit and God Bless
the Child, the musical arrangements are
reasonable facsimiles of the originals
—and sung by Diana tremors of
joy, sweetness and pain that are more а
tribute to Billie than an imitation of
her, which is all to the good. It is as an
actress, however, that Diana triumphs
over a conventionally sentimental and
romanticized film biography, produced
by Motown Records man Berry Gordy
and directed by Sidney 1. (The 1раез
File) Furic with lots of loving care.
There is no need to be snobbish about
the movie's cor slickness, though
all the showbiz-saga clichés are preserved
intaci—from the magical tryout scene
that enables young Billie to get out
of a brothel (inventing her professional
name on the spot, naturally) into her
first job with a band, to the standard
photo-montage sequences using shots of
fast trai
paper headlines to mark the wail of a
rising star. Some other effects are песа.
lessly heavy-handed—the scene, for e
ample, in which a hooded Klansman
smashes ап American flag through the

with

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PLAYBOY

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33

PLAYBOY

window of her bus while Billie is tour-

ginning to find solace in poe
Lady works beautifully in so many ways
t its flaws become forgivable. The
1 wallop of the movie rests on
ing and deftly modulated
performance as a strung-out, hypervul-
nerable neurotic who never quite loses
her zest for Ше, even when she comes
out of prison scourged by secret pain and
those countless public humiliations she
undergoes just for being black. Whether
playing a hopeless jur

stages of collapse or an irrepressible
sprite given to fits of childish merr
ment, Diana consistently responds in ori
inal and unpredictable ways that make
the role completely her own. Director
Furie must share in her accomplishment,
псе he achieves comparable results
with Richard Pryor, playing an accom-
panist billed simply a 1, and
Billy Dee Williams as Louis McKay, the
number-one man Holiday's life, a
dude so steadfast and loyal you'd think
he could help any dame keep her act to-
gether. These three performances alon
Ші Lady above the common run of
movie musicals. Call it pop tragedy, with
bittersweet words and music—the kind
of thing that happens when someone
like Lady Day starts singing Good
Moming, Heartache in а smoky bistro
after hours.

The films of French writer-director
Eric Rohmer are an acquired taste: yet
moviegoers who found My Night at
Maud's a talkathon and Claire's Knec an
outright bore may be pleasantly sur-
prised by Chloé in the Afternoon, the last
in a cycle of romantic comedies that
Rohmer calls Sis Moral Tales, Chloë is
the most enchanting and agreeable of
the four that have so far crossed the
Atlantic. Like its predecessors, the feath-
crweight tale tells of а man who is in
love with one woman but becomes fcet-
ingly attracted to another—the man in
this instance being a young Parisian сх-
ecutive (Bernard Verley) who has a wile
and a child to whom he is devoted but
nevertheless spends many free afternoons
exploring his responses to an impulsive
girl about town named Chloé, forme
stress of an old friend. What he
arns—or what we learn about him—is.
the root of his problem is not Chlo:
herself but those “afternoon anxieties
с to all men as they begin set-
ting dowi dream of a life made of
first loves, lasting loves,” muses the rest-
less girl watcher. Though the fellow
never actually does anything, Rohmer
creates a mood of impish erotic suspense
about his making it or not making it
with Chloé— played. seductively by Zou-
zou, ап earthy French dish previously
known to fout Paris as "Zouzou la Twis-
teuse” because she danced on bartops at
the drop of a chapeau. The morality

Rohmer teaches is essentially as petit
bourgeois as Neil Simon's Last of the
Red Hot Lovers but far more sophisti-
cated and subtle in every detail. At its
impudent best, Chloé infuses guilty pas
sion with the rhythm of light verse and
becomes irresistible when Rohmer's hero
Jets himself go in a breezy sexual fantasy
about cruising the boulevards of Paris,
where all women (bit roles played by
heroines of earlier Moral Tales) surren-
der without hesitation to the SOS from
a blinker signal he wears on a chain
around his neck.

The hero of Two English Girls, another
wistful romantic trifle, is а diffident
and fairly philosophical young
(Jean Pierre Leaud) who finds
up of pieces that don't qu

Dur-
ing the innocent years prior to World
War One, he drifts in and out of affairs

i Markham

with two English sisters (Kil

and Stacey Tendeter) while they travel
abroad, languish at home, disappear on
secret escapades, move away or marry
simplicity

others. Utter has become
almost a styl for director
rangois Truffaut. This wry, triangular
love story—based on a novel by Hemi-
Pierre Roche, author of Truffaut's
memorable Jules and Jim—is extremely
old-fashioned in the telling: with slow
fades between scenes and liberal use of
lens, as if Truffaut were bent on
framing his characters in a series of
nt vintage portraits for a family
m. Because һе master of the
medium, he can get away with the semi-
precious gestures that would make most
movie directors seem cloyingly self-
conscious or merely naive. Truftaut's
delicate, spontaneous good humor pulls
Two English Girls from the brink of
anality time after time, if only by
а hairbreadth—and once more he shows
1 hand guided with fine
savoir-

aire.
nde the Ci Mur rages east of
t. Joseph, Missou lings head
ü est to dodge the draft and find out-
door adventure, Instead, they find Bed
Compony—murderers, liars, thieves and,
at one point, a simple farmer who's had
а bellyful of pioneer life and invites the
lads to use his wife in exchange for a
little grub money. "I resolve never to do
a dishonest act," dedares the God-f

Ohio boy (movie newcomer

Barry
Brown) who joins up with a teenaged
renegade (Jeff Bridges) and ultimately

learns that the fear of God is a thin de-
fense ag; y to man.
Both Brown and Bridges invest their
roles with down-home truth as well a
bumptious boyish vitality; and, for an
added plus, cinematographer Gordon
Willis (whose work on The Godfather
was justifiably applauded) filmed the
picture in Kansas in а golden vintage

inst man's inhumanii

style that gleams like a Бай of sun-
warmed wheat. А ricky-tick piano cha
terizes Harvey Schmidt's low-key musical
score and provides a clue to the handi
work of co-authors David Newman and
Robert Benton, who made their memo-
rable movie debut with Bonnie and
Clyde. The anatomy of American vio-
lence appears to be the Newman-Benton
team's continuing concern, though here
they teat the subject gingerly, even
tenderly—only occasionally lapsing into
ialog that smacks of city-slicker smart
ness (most pronounced in the case of a
colorful bandit chief whom Benton and
Newman acknowledge as their wry trib-
ure to veteran director Joseph L. Mankic-
wice—even to the point of leuing the
character plagiarize a couple of famous
Mankiewicz lines). Benton, directing hi:
first feature, had the good sense to resist
any gratuitous display of virtuosity,

The dilemma faced by U.S. draft
dodgers of 1972 vintage is so touchy
a subject that Hollywood's film makers
simply pretend it isn’t there. Director
and co-author Allen Baron, an alumnus
of network television, tries hard with
Outside In, the story of a Los Angeles
boy (Darrell Larson) who sneaks home
from a Canadian refuge in time for
his father's funeral, then h;
awhile, creat
for family and friends. While director
Baron rates a pat on the back for what
he aimed to do, good intentions are an
unsatisfactory substitute for skill. Out-
side In is м cted in a plain
decla g a contrived
cross cters—the hero's
old buddy who served in Nam and came
back to join the establishment on its
own terms, another buddy who served
time for draft cı ind has since
so the
sirl (Heather. Menzies)
whom a fella can take to bed or for long,
lyrical walks along the shore. Corny?
Sure. Nevertheless, the movie treats its
iled young American with decent re-
spect, as the subject of a complex and
challenging question: “I wonder what
they're going to do with you . . . all of
you?”

The self-absorbed her с of Ploy It as
ff Leys—producer-director k Perry's
film version of the novel by Joan Didion
—sums up her life in Hollywood with
a bleak phrase: “J was holding all the
aces... but what was the game?” The
book's deeply subjective, ultrafeminine

view of existence (adapted by Miss
Didion and husband John Gregory

Dunne) is retained. оп film, not really
telling a story but gathering bits and
pieces of a mosaic until, at last, the por
wait of a woman emerges, a woman
much put upon by men, because it's still
а man’s world, baby, and boys play
rough. Though hardly a pretty picture,

| a

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but special friends. Johnnie Walker Red.

The world's favorite Scotch for the world's favorite season.

100% Blended Scotch Whiskies. 86.8 Proof. Imported by Somerset Importers, Ltd., New York, М.Ү.

PLAYBOY

26

20 STEREO LPS 07

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Place Verve. Verve Scepter А Faun Yorkshire Next Decca Collectively Belt

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37

PLAYBOY

38

Miss Did intelligence burns
through every inch of it, and Tuesday
Weld's performance as the cr
minor actress / former model,
Wyeth, adds star power to n

otherwise might register as just another
drab study of modern despair. Tuesday,
winner of a special Best Performance
prize at the 1972 Venice Film Festival,

has traveled a long road from perennial-
let status to recognition as a major

talent, and Play It as Il Lays provides
the role she always needed—that of
a disturbed, complex,

self-destructive

beauty whose hang-ups seem emotion-
ally attuned to her own private and
ofessional knocking about in the

Hollywood hills. The movie has all the
Í а one-woman show, except
sneaks
in a strong close-up of Adam Roarke as
Maria’s husband, the «d of medium-
hip Hollywood film m r who we.
blue jeans and leather to prove that
success can't spoil him. Some withering
moments of truth also come to Tammy
„аза nd, and to An-
thony Perkins, as the bitch's bored hus-
band in name only, а faggot producer
suicide brings an end to the
e's slender grip on sanity. ТІ
first-person fable of divorce, abortion,
dultery and death is а view from the
California freeways of a girl driving
herself crazy in the land of smog.

a documentary built
mainly on interviews with people whose
blood runs hot over the current troubles
n Northern Ireland. politicians, Т.А.
leaders. bereaved families and, of course,
udette Devlin. Sense of Loss can stir
nce with its native eloquence
d volatile temper, yet the movie pre-
sumes considerable foreknowledge of the
ous amd economic problems now
tearing Northern Ireland apart.
director Marcel Ophuls, who used a sim
ilar technique to re-create the history of
Navioceupied France іп his stum
documentary The Sorrow and the Pity,
here labors under the obvious disad-
vantage of being a visitor from abroad
dealing with an unresolved crisis, As а
questioner, he is open-minded, compas-
sionate and honest enough to let his own
prejudice or impatience with his subjects
асе here and there, yet he
t from the material, se
ly unsure of what to do next. Talking to
people in the street, talking to women
whose husbands are dead or interned in
p for dissidents at Long Nesh,
g to Miss Devlin on a desolate
Irish beach. he collects all sides of nearly
question without making the es-
gument dear, and the result
is that the viewer becomes disoriented.
Pa his ow у
prompts Ophuls to belabor a point from
time to time, milking the irony of

A Sense cf Loss

rendi

bob to the

stands ap

ning-

ps it's

Christmas in Belfast with holiday carols
linked to the movement of troops in an
armored van, or fading out with his cam-
ста fixed on a pink bedspread in the

empty room of a teenaged girl whose
a

death (in a traffic mishap involvi
British military vehicle) is sad, certain;
but not especially relevant to the issucs
Ireland tod:

The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie is
а masterful comedy by а film maker
of unquestioned genius, Luis Buñuel,
whose career has run a dazzling course
from L'Age d'Or—the surrealist. classic
of 1930—to Belle de Jour a few years
ago. The dark, lucid intelligence and
comic power of Buñuel, now 72, are
as potent as ever in The Discreet Charm,
a kind of cerebral farce about some very
chic, very French, upper-middle«cluss
people who live a completely ins
istence—attending teas and luncheon
and dinner parties, wearing the s
cloth Шу balling one another's
wives and occasionally even their ow
nd allowing nothing whatever to inte
Геге with their complacent social rou-
tines. If a sit-down dinner party should
be momentarily disturbed by mortar
the garden and the unexpected a
rival of shock troops smoking pot, the
hostess simply calls for extra plates. IL
the ambassador of а remote, barbarous
republic discovers a buxom terrorist i
his flat, he foils the assassination by at-
tempting to seduce her. If the gentlemen
of the company find their evening revels
interrupted by police determined to
jail them for trafficking in narcotics,
they need only t т fingers
influential mi gets on

ted

test

the
telephone to spring them. They are

ister

ldicis of privilege, the sort of snobs
who need war orphans in order to justify
charity balls. Reality seldom ener
upon this welLordered litle world ex-
cept in dreams, and everyone dreams a
lot—troublesome dreams of murder and
th and revolutionary justicc—but
they vanish like morning dew when you
have to wake up and dress and decide
to do about lunch. Even a drawing
ce from Buñuel slips into cool
and cruelly satirical fantasy, made i

i ando Rey, Stéph
ne Audran, Jean-Pierre Cassel, Delphine
Seyrig and Bulle Ogier, In France, that
amounts to ar сам, every one of
them perfectly straight-faced, performing
Buiiuel’s small mirades with impeccable
restraint. A jewel of a comedy in the

апу class,

aches

room

RECORDINGS

for the cars. Here is
nultiple-LP albums for
ng and getting. First for

Holiday cheer
a sackful of
Christmas giv

the “heavy” мий. Seraphim has dipped
into the Angel catalog and come up with
The Seraphim Guide to the Clossics, а ten-
LP slipcased set that runs from the
Middle Ages through Bartok, Bug and
Boulez, The performances are marked
by the usual high standards of those art
ists recording under the Angel label. A

less ambitious but no less satisfying proj-
ect is A Baroque Festival, а twin-LP album
on Elektras Nonesuch label, which

contains marvelous performances of the
ks of Bach, Schütz, Buxtehude, Cou-
perin, Scarlatti, Vivaldi, et al., and seems
bsolutely perfect for the season, Colum
bia has put together in three-record seis
what it issued previously as single LPs—
John Williams: Seven Great Guitar Concertos
nd The Art of Igor Кірпіз. The latter en-
compasses the harpsichordist’s perform-
nces of music from France. Italy and
Spain, including the works of Domenico
nd Alessandro 5 Rameau, Cima-
тоза and Soler. The Willi:

tra, under Eugene Ormandy, and the
nglish Chamber Orchestra, conducted
by Charles Groves. Both albums are
technically brilliant and artistically de-

lightful. Opera buffs can feast on a
banquet of Beverly Sills; the peerless diva
has five—count "em, five—operas avail-
able on the Audio Treasury label. You
pays your money and you takes your
choice. There're Donizetti's Roberto Dever-
eux and Lucis di Lammermoor (conducted by
Thomas Schippers), plus Maria Stvarda
(which has the added attraction of Eileen
Farrell in the role of Elizabeth) and Of-

fenbach’s Tales of Hoffmann. All are three-
bums. The fifth album (on four LPs)
Miss

LP

Massenet's Manon, which finds
ills in the splendid company of. Nicol
Gedda and Gerard Souzay. Beverly Sills
is a phenomenon and to have five such
albums available is phenomenal.

Pop, jazz rock, folk and country dou-
ble-LP reissues play a large part i
plying the aural pleasure for this yule.
From Columbia comes Benny Goodman's

sup.

Flying Home and Jersey Bounce. Trio,
let, quintet, sextet, septet and big
nd—they're all here. Топу Bennett's All-
Time Greatest Hits, also on Columbia, is
filled with the likes of—well, you know
— Left My Heart in San Francisco, The
Shadow of Your Smile, Who Can ! Turn
To. Put on a Happy Face
Look Away, etc, etc. Ben
ars ago, before Joan
ical ist and reflected
music, her the мг
ballad. The Joan Boer Ballad Book (Va
guard) is a marvelous reprise of that c
—Barbara Allen, Go Way from My Win-
dow, Black Is the Color of My True
Love's Hair, Fare Thee Well—all de-
livered in the pure, haunting style that

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| Instruction |

| NAVY PAY RAISED |
Bonus lor former Navy Men |

Appty Navy RECRUITING STATION

1972
and find your place in the world

LIE EL

The new Navy still offers you a
chance to see the world. But now we
offer young men (and women, too!)
who qualify, much more. Training in
hundreds of jobs in important fields.
From computer technology and
electronics to welding and aviation
mechanics. Jobs that will help you
build a world of your own—inside
the Navy or out.

Start at $288 a month plus
education, food, clothing, housing
and health care. And an automatic
raise comes after the first four
months. If immediate training isn't
your goal, there are other reasons
for joining the new Navy. Travel.
New three-year enlistment with
guaranteed choice of East or West
Coast. The join-now, report-six-
months-later plan.

Looking for a special place in
the world? Send in the attached
coupon to find out what makes the
new Navy new. Or call (toll free)
800-424-8880.

Be someone special in The New Navy

PLAYBOY

гғ--------------------------

ch Aromatic

emme minê

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сажын |

k of Miss Baez
n’ and strum
А for a quarter of a century
now and to celebrate his silver anni-
versary, the company has issued Chet Atkins
Now and . . . Then. From Canned Heat, re-
corded in 1947, to Knee Action,
the album dramatically demonstrates
why Chet has stayed at the top of
his craft for so long. The Best of Otis Redding
(Atco) is just that. Redding h: n gone
for more than five years now, but his
sound still echoes in the style of many of
today’s top rock and soul singers. The
two LPs conclude, fittingly, with (Si
on) The Dock of the Bay, Otis’ bi
hit; but there are 24 other tracks tl
the Otis Redding story іп compe
fashion. Polydor has undoubtedly come
up with the cream of the re
in packaging four doubleLP albums
built around the late and still lamented
Cream and its illustrious alumni. There
are Heavy Cream, Ginger Baker ot His Best,
Jack Bruce at His Best and Eric Clapton at His
Best, any one of which will set you on
your car, although the Clapton record-
ings (induding Layla and Let It Rain)
are clearly the most exciting of the lot.

Jolm Prine sings marvelous blue-collar
songs about the disillusioned and the
dispossessed. He's often compared to
ın and, on the basis of his Vietnam

ballad, Sam Stone, has becn called a pro-
test singer. But Prine is really into a
different ethos and a different groove.
Diamonds in the Rough (AUantic) is a
sad and moving album, mixing senti-

: "While
ocean, / While out "
bumped into the savior, / And һе said.
‘Pardon me,’ / I said, ‘Jesus, you look
tired.’ / He said, ‘Jesus, so do you. . . .
Then there are moments of real р
in The Late John Garfield Blues, which
projects surrealistic movie images against
a bleak Chicago backdrop; and Clocks
and Spoons, an ambiguous song of sui-
cide that builds on the T. $
measuring out a life with coffee spoons
This isn't to imply that Prine is one of
the artsy-folksy crowd. Far from it: Songs
like Rocky Mountain Time are pure
country, and their images of common
so personally rendered that
you can't fail to be touched,

Eliot idea of

We liked their initial offering (Of
the Shelf, May 1972) and the follow-up,
Betdorf & Rodney (Asylum), is even better.
B. & R. produce a superior br
‹ тоск рім stuff that is
humable and well played. Their vocal
harmonies are reminiscent of the Hollies
and, sometimes, of Simon and Gar-
funkel. A few of the tunes here, such as

of

Our
Centerfold

PLAYBOY

44

INSTANT gE
COOL ><

if forthe
action man:

After Shave Calogne, Eau de Calagne,
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New Dry-Spray Deodarant,
Dry-Spray Anti-Perspirant, Talc,
Rape Soap, Bath Soop, Shove Cream,
Hair Cantrol, Stick Deodorant

Sets or singles— great gifting!
At all better stores, or write
€ HAWAIIAN SURF IND. INT'L
Deer Park, N.Y. 11729

BUILD THIS UNIQUE
HEATHKIT 6-DIGIT
ELECTRONIC CLOCK
--- $54.95

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utes sleep. Assembly manual guides you one easy
step at а time to completion in 2 or 3 evenings.
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like it at this low
Kit GC-1005, 4 Ibs.

Over 350
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а

Between the Ages, arc а trifle over-
ambitious. But of the others, All 1 Need
(dedicated to Dalton Trumbo, of all
people) is a standout. Could B. & R. be
the next S. & G.? Well, no. Listen to
Simon and Garfunkels Greatest Hits (Colum-
bia) amd you'll see what an impossible
act that is to follow.

As usual, Boz Scaggs proves himself
pable of many styles of pop soul
music. My Time (Columbia) offers up
Motown sound, a Dr. John bit, a couple
of big production numbers and morc.
the disc gets off to a slow, old
kind of start with Dinah Flo,
h is commercial and dumb, ıl
pick up with He's a Fool Jor You, which
features the Boz falsetto and some fine

superior vocal
should be гос!

g

John Fahey says he plays
Primitive Guitar," by which he
to mean a style formed on Ives y
ragtime and jazz, country and
Gospcl Of Rivers and Religion (Reprise)
show т, just how sophisticated
| prove. This is open and
stress on phras-
hard to imagine
On several cuts,
joined by classic jazzfolk such

hows

such a

evocative music, with

as Nappy La Mare and Joe Darens-
bourgh. The result sounds like some-
thing out of Wooden Joe Nicholas and
his Orleans Band. Frequently
you'll hear the strings squeak, as Fahey
fingers his stops, or the tempo accelerate,
perhaps inadvertently (as it often did in

old music) and perhaps not. Who cares?
This is the good old stuff, created and

re-created lovingly.

notes to The
mmophon),

Can you dig it In
Rite of Spring (Deutsche Gi
Jonathan Cott describes the ovation a
young audience gave to Michael Tilson
Thomas’ performance of the work. “You
might h anis Joplin had
just g Piece of Му
Heart.” Wow, man! Better yet. imagine
how < and Joplin, both lately
passed, would blow their minds at this
piece of news. Anyhow, Thomas and
the Boston Symphony dig in and blow
here: Even Igors own version doesn’t
have this kind of drama, Momma. Lay
hands on this disc and find out what
them cats i lready know. If
The Rite ain't rock, it still can shock.

Boston

We get few records like it: those you

сап put om and play again and again
on long Saturday afternoons, so fine you
can't get enough. The Band's second

album, The Band, was like that, and

now they've given us another: Rock of
Ages (Capitol). It’s live and lovely, а
double LP recorded a ycar ago at thc
ademy of Music in New York (where
the ghost of Alan Freed still bops), а
pure up of a concert, with them mostly

moving through their Greatest. Hits—
‘hest Fever, The Night
Down,

The Weight,
They Drove Old Dixie
Mama Rag, Life Is a
making them gr
son is a bitch of a songwri
often have that Dylan
stoned country imagi
often clusive myths about.
ів spite of his electric gui
folkic; Robertson w
nd Allen Toussaint’s horn sec
even better, hang
in there with its main man, 5
Young. Toussaint may be the only rock
arranger around who doesn't use horns
like dubs, or pour them like syrup over
everything: They fit, beautifully, some-
times filling holes you never noticed
before. Don't Do It, which until now
you could hear only on bad bootlegs, is
a lovers lament (“my biggest mi
was lovin’ you too much . . . and lett
you know . . 27) that may be the album's
killer, but it is all special music.

Rag

THEATER

Theatrical recapitulations of the
works of. popular composers often turn
out to be more of a travesty than a
tribute. The revivers either spoof the

material or turn сусту cune into an over-
production number. Happily, Roderick
and directed Oh

Cook, who cona
Coward!, 1 a with B:
Cason and Jamie Ross, has taken quite
а different course. He has simply se-
lected some 50 of Noel Coward's best
show tunes, plucked a few words from
his plays and his books and put them
onto a tiny stage without pretense or

ыз, а per-
minimum ol

cussionist and a
Cook partners
Coward's devious wordplays with agility
nd taste.
singing voice. but these songs are more
to be talked than sung and all three keep
their syllables crisp and their Coward
dry. As if Sir Noel himself were over-
seeing their ma they suppress emo-
tion; Cook sings The Party's Over Now
if he were on the verge of expiration.
The material is old but not dated: even
Mad Dogs and Englishmen sounds freshly
printed. Coward's verse has an insouci
ance and an acerbity that have, unfor-
all but. gone out of fashion in
At The New, 154 East 54th

and his

ne of them

tunately

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my wife is rather
inhibited. while I am quite free, which
is proving unsitisfactory to both of us. 1
would like her to have sex with other
men (and 1 with other women); the
idea is exciting to me. though she would
never agree to such activities, Recently,
1 had to force | € oral sex with
me. P love my wife nt us both to
be happy, but her псе to experi
ly is d s our re]
suggestions. for resolving
this proble: Lincoln, Nebraska.
You missed. the point.
about sexual freedom, which certainly
does not include the freedom to force
your partner lo do something she
doesn't want 10 do. Inhibitions are usi-
ally based on fear and won't disappear
until that fear has been dissipated. If
you wish to lesen your wife's sexual
inhibitions, you'll have to proceed slow-
ly and lovingly and certainly with
spect for her feelings. To force her into
a sexual activity that cither disgusts or
frightens her will only convince her—
corvectly—that she is being used.

Kay Ive been having “flashbacks”
caused by past use of hallucinogenic
ihing I can do

—Н. K., Milwaukee, Wisconsin.

See your doctor, who will probably
prescribe Thorazine or another, related
tranquilizer to lessen or eliminate flash-
hacks. You might also visit a drug-treat-
ment clinic at the local healih service
or the counseling center of a nearby
universily.

Sev , when I was just out
of high school, I made the mistake of
ag up with aom y years my
senior. He was in the process ol getting л
divorce and led me to believe we

ied by the time Г com-

I years ару

E

ivorce that he could never even
consider marrying again. 1 was so hope-
lessly | him by then that L
cont ee him anyway, ший 1
met the man 1 later. married. My prob-
Jem is that for the three years Гуе been
rried, this old boy has continued to
hound my footsteps with an invitaing
ardor. Tve wied everything 1 know to
make him stop. [rom reasoning with him
ignoring him, but nothing seems 10
work. He's a senior Navy officer and Im
considering taking the matter up with
his commander. Can you sugg
les d lternativesz
Norfolk, Virginia.

You'll only involve yourself deeper һу
pursuing the matter personally. Engage

an allorney to represent you and instruct
him to outline all. the alternatives,
including the drastic one you mention,
10 your old beau.

ММ... 1 invite a girl to my apartment
lor dinner, am 1 showing poor manners
if P expect her to provide her own
transportation? E would, of co
ly reimburse her for her cab
would find it d
hour and a 1

f behind th of my
id. play Thomas Ma
.—L. R., St. Louis, Missour

If it’s impossible to find girls who live
near you, then we suggest that your date
gab a cab to your place and that you
reimburse her. Devote that hour and a
half behind the wheel to driving her
home the next morning.

L g the underground press, I've
come across numerous ads for massage
parlors. most of which hint that they
oller more than just a simple rubdown.
Are the ads just a comeon:—G. A., San
isco, Calitornia.

he answer is yes and no. According
to Al Goldstein, executive editor of
Screw. magazine, most of the girls in the
massage parlors would be surprised if
you showed up simply [or a massage. If
the girl thinks you're а cop, however,
that’s all you'll get. Otherwise, youre
likely to find yourself haggling about the
“extras” that may be available, ranging
from $20 to $50, depending on whether
you're interested їп manual manipula-
tion, oral sex, genital intercourse or
something really exotic. If the masseuse
shows up partly or completely nude, you
may asume that she is more proficient
al massaging organs than muscles. Be-
Jore “massage,” you might
check to see if the parlors in your city
have become targets for police raids—
you wouldn't want to be caught with
your pants down.

oing Jor a

Wes the season for the common cold
and 1 am more than usually susceptible

mz Js drinking

а exer o help sweat them
out, o[ any value:
antihistamines, somet

the symptom
CF Aspirin?
dand, Ohio.
About the only thing authorities agree
upon is that colds are caused by viruses,
of which there may be up io 200, de-
pending on the expert. Their very num-
ber and variety limits the prospects of
developing an eljective

vaccine. I's

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PLAYBOY

50

possible to become relatively immune to
the cold viruses prevalent in your com-
munity, but once you leave it, you're fair
game for those that prevail elsewhere.
(Simply growing older may help, since
one study has shown far more teenagers
than people over 50 coming down with
colds; apparently, age gives you time to
become immune to more of the viruses.)
Cold weather can lower one’s resistance
to colds and low indoor humidity can
dry out the mucous membranes that
some doctors think may trap the viruses
before they can infect you. Liquor is of
little help; a stable body temperature
helps in curing a cold and liquor lowers
the body temperature while i raises the
surface temperature. Exercising сап ac-
tually intensify a cold's symptoms. Al-
though an antihistamine will reduce
swelling in the nasal passages, it will not
block virus production. It will help, of
course, if you have an allergy along with
the cold. Nasal sprays can be potentially
dangerous. Dr. Linus Pauling claims
vitamin C is the answer, but most medi-
cal doctors maintain it isn't; some even
claim that high dosages of vitamin C
can be harmful. Best thing to do for
colds is to avoid them in the first place
by staying away from people who have
them. You might also restrict traveling
from one part of the country to another
during the winter months and stay well
fed and rested to build up your resist-
ance. If you do come down with а cold,
do what your mother always advise
Tuke aspirin for the head- and muscle
aches, drink lots of fruit juice and get
plenty of sleep. The average cold lasts
from seven to ten days; if it hangs on
longer, see your doctor. Antibiotics, in-
cidentally, are of little value against
cold viruses. hon!

The October Advisor noted that an
American could lose his citizenship by
“voting in an election of a foreign s
nd by "staying out of the U.S. during
a war or national emergency to avoid
serving in the military.” Î would like to
mention that both of these provisions
nd a number of others as well of
Three. Sections 340 to 352 of
igration and Nationality Act
1952, have been declared
in recent court find
m A. Rama Criminal Inves
gator, Immigr nd Natu i
Service, Newark, New Jersey.
Mr. Ramage is correct; court decisions
have had the effect of amending the
existing law. Probably the most fool-
proof method of giving up one's citizen-
ship is to formally renounce it before a
U.S. consul abroad. Our “expert” for
the original answer has been exiled.

ММ... 1 was away on vacation, my
girlfriend had an айай with another
mun. I have stopped seeing her as à
result, but she's always on my mind

nonetheless. I can't decide whether 1
should see her again or try to forget
about her altogether. Other girls don't
nterest me. Should I swallow my pride
or continue to suffer withdrawal pains?—
R. B., Knoxville, Tennessee.

Why punish yourself? If other girls
don’t interest you and she does, and if
she wants to see you, too, then it seems
foolish to undergo the self-inflicted pain
of staying apart. By all means, date her
and sec how things go. А temporary
affair is seldom a good reason for a
permanent breakup—especially if your
relationship still holds meaning for both
of you. Remember, you don't own her.

Б it true tha
harmful to my hi
there

igh humidity сап be
system? And, if so, is
ny commercial product that I can
use to prevent deterioration due to
hum . D., Newark, New Jersey.

Irs not likely that your system can be
harmed by humidity. However, to pre-
vent. possible corrosion of antenna lead-
in wires Or other exposed wires and
connections, you might spray them with
an acrylic such as Krylon,

Recently 1 purchased а pair of brown-
nd-white shoes. Now friends tell me that
two-toncd shoes aren't suitable for winter
wear. Is this truc, or doesn't ally
matter?—W. C, Albany, New Y

Ii depends on where you live. In your
state, and throughout the Norih, white
or two-toned shoes are usually worn be-
tween Easter and Labor Day only. So
why not pack them in your bag for a
trip to Miami or Los Angeles, where
they wear such things year round?

IM; boyfriend and I have been dating
each other exclusively for a year and a
half. Just recently, at his request, we be-
gan to date others but promised that
we would have sex only with each other.
We love cach other, but since we hav
no idea when we can marry, we feel
there are advantages to dating around.
Unfortunately, 1 am becoming increas-
ingly uptight about the si
around me, 1 see supposedly nice guys
cheating on their wives and fincécs.
I've kept my share of the bargain, but I
cut help wondering if my boylriend
is keep 1 have no evidence that
he's betrayed me, just а vagu
How can ] overcome th
Miss C. H.. Madison, №

Ц you're so uptight about mutual. fidel-
ity that you feel betrayed on general
principles, simply because your boyfriend
is a member of the male sex, then you'd
better have a good, long rap about the
subject before you get married. How
would you feel, once having tied ihe
knot, if he went out of town on busi-
ness or was olherwise exposed to temp-
tations that you could not observe or
control? While you're talking to your

boyfriend, you ought to see if you can
find out as well if he is simply trying to
case out of the relalionship with you
(while continuing to use you sexually),
which may be one of the causes of your
anxiety. If so, it might be wiser to break
it off cleanly now.

Hov did the word carat, for measuring
the weight of precious stones, originate?
—R. Е. Pittsburgh, Pennsylva

A carat, equivalent in weight 10 200
milligrams, comes from the alchemists
carratus, which in turn derives from the
Arabic qiràt, or bean; the veason is that
in ancient times, the weights of din
monds were computed by balancing
them against the beans, or seeds, of the
carob tree, extensively cultivated on the
shores of the Mediterranean.

О). a number of occasions, Ive run
cross a reference to a drink called
Pimnrs Cup. Could you tell me how to
make one?—S. T., Phoenix, Arizona

Sorry, but the ingredients of a Pimm's
Cup are a trade secret. To partially ex-
plain the mystery, Pimm's Cup is the
brand name for a group of alcoholic bev-
erages resembling cordials that are bot-
tled in England and that can be used to
make various slings. Supposedly origi-
nated by a bartender at a Pimm's restau-
rant in London, there are six Cups, cach
with a different base: Pimm's Cup No.
Т, gin (for a gin sling); 2 Scotc
No. 3, brandy; No. 4, rum and brand:
. 5, rye; and No. 6, vodka. The fa-
vored method of serving is to mix with
soda or fruit juice and serve im tall
glasses with a garnish of lemon and cu-
cumber rind.

ММ... going into the details of my
situation, I would like to ask a question
И two people (married, but not to cach
other) engage in oral sex without coitus,
are they committing adultery?—D. B.,
Baltimore, Maryland

Legally, most states require genital
intercourse to fulfill a definition of adul-
tery, leaving oral sex to such vague and
allinclusive categories as “unnatural
acts.” So the answer must be: What goes
оп in your head depends entirely on
what you have іп mind. Аз а woman in
“The Ginger Man" remarked, іп a
slightly different conneclion, "Oh, Mr
Dangerfield, it’s зо much less of a sin.
And jun too.

All reasonable questions—from fash-
ion, food and drink, stereo and sports cars
to dating dilemmas, laste 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-
gan Ave., Chicago, Illinois 60611. The
most provocative, pertinent queries will
be presented on these pages cach month.

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КАУ The Playboy Club, Bunny. Bunny Costume and Rabbit Head symbol

аге marks oí Playboy, Reg. U.S. Pat. Off, © 1972 PLAYBOY

For people who think great stereos

only come in pieces.

These are the pieces.

А solid-state FM/AM tuner that
can pick up the weakest FM signals
without noise, and the strongest ones
with virtually no distortion. Thanks to
a Field Effect Transistor.

Solid-state IF filters work with AM
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a unique interstation muting circuit
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Then there's the amplifier.

This one has all-silicon transistors
and a66 watt output (E.1.A. standard).

Mozart and Moby Grape never had
it so good.

For your records,the Sony HP- 610A

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kind your cousin, the stereo nut,
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The speakers. Well, they're
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speak. They don't yell.

Now. You can buy components
like these one step at a time.

And that's okay. If you're handy
with a screwdriver.

Or youcan get all of them under
one dust cover.

In case you're just handy with
your ears.

The SONY. HP-610A stereo system

our Showroom, 714 Filth Ave, New York, N Y.

THE PLAYBOY FORUM

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

MASTURBATION MYTHOLOGY
Judging by the excerpts quoted in an
October 1972 Playboy Forum letter, The
Dimension in Sex. by Herbert
strong and accomplices, must be
one of the literary curiosities of the 20th
Century. Jt is dillicult 1o understand
how anyone who admits that masturba
tion doesn’t cause. pimples, sterility and
the like can yet maintain not only that
it is a sin and a perversion but that it
causes temporary abscutanindedness. 1
u Armstrong and associates seem

ten to tell us what
dence they have for this astonishing
п. Could it be firsthand experience?
Dana L. Turner
The Dalles, Oregon

NUDE BATHERS’ ARREST
Four of us were
in California's 7

swin

in the nude
inity River in a se
cluded spot. when we were arrested by a

sheriff's deputy. We were told that sever-
al residents of the area had made com-
plaints about us до the county shevill’s

department: however, they could have
seen us only if they had left their own

property and walked downriver or
through the woods тө find us е

there is no path ro the place and the
river is not navigable.

Mier our arrest, the deputy did not
allow us to pick up our dothes. He hand-
culled us toge le to female rather

c.

us with covering

icr. m

than male to male and female to fen
1 provide
at the scene of the arrest but. drove us
into town and exposed us to the citiz
of Weaverville, Blankets were brought
10 us at the courthouse. If the purpose of
the law is to protect citizens from the
sight of nude bodies, this is odd bel

We spent a day and a night
and are

He did ıı

iow out on bail awaiting trial.
Mary Miller
James D.
Robert Froost
Eurcka ifornia

aw

MORE CAMPUS NUDITY
As reported in rravsov's

September
1972 article Sudent Bodies, nude public

appearances аге becomis

among todays ui

dipping is quite ent at
lake in Upstate New York, which was
purchased as a facultvstudent. play-
wound by the State University of New

York at Binghamton. Last fall, a local

prev

paper reported that one tourist came
upon Empire Lake unexpectedly and wa
shocked to the skin of his teeth.” The
story stated:

The unidentified ma
plained to Sergeant V $
ton of the Tioga County Sheriff's
Department that there was a “sink
of sin” at the Take owned by the
Sue University of New York.

"Ehe man was showing his parents
wiful Upstare New
York when he was shocked to find
ıt to be a nudist

wound “be

camp." Stanton said.
“He for
ment ib
а Sodom
in.
Everywhere he
he could see nothin,
naked men and women

eat embarrass

ad то his g
t he was in а sink of sin
and Gomorrah all over

turned his gaze,
but raw stark-

Sergeant Stai
tion 10 the
rience, the paper reported

a kept his cool in reac

tourist's

arrowing expe

1 advised him that 1 was not up
to date on the subject.” Stanton ex
plained, “but that 1 did have a few
old copies of Captain Billy's Whiz
Bang magazine, а 1935 issue of Es
quire and an April 1071. PLAYBOY.

7L assured. him that when 1 went
home 1 would research the problem,’
the sergeant said.

Bruce Coville
Binghamton. New York

THE NUDE DUDE

An article in The Denver Past stated
that а school-hallway art show included
picture of a naked man and rhat this

brought a torrent of protest do
local school officials. A letter
irate parent suaightlorwardly termed the
picture repulsive. Another asked, rhe-
torically, “To the bulging eyeballs and
anious minds of our T-yearold stu-
dents, is it art?” The self-supplied answer
7 doubt iL^ The rather imagi
live mother who wrote that lener

at the possibility that
ı become known the

on
Irom one

was

also

expressed d

the school mi

alter as the one with the pierre of “th
nude dude.” And so on

Oh, ves: the picture. It's a reproduc
tion of Michekugelo’s Creation of

|
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53

PLAYBOY

м

Adam, which сап be found on the сей-
ing of the Vatican's Sistine Chapel
(whose reputation, incidentally, hasn't
been sullied by the presence of Adam,
“the nude dude”

Joe Cordova
Denver, Colorado

CDL UNDER INVESTIGATION
I've been following with interest the
letters in The Playboy Forum about
Charles H. Keating, Jr.'s fund-raising
drive for Citizens for Decent Literature.
Newsletter on Intellectual Freedom,
published by the American Library Asso-
ciation, reports that CDL is being in-
vestigated by the M
general's office to see if it complies wi
state statutes concerning cha s and
frauds, The newsletter states
t attorney general told
patch and Pioncer Press
that CDL apparently is spending the
bulk of the money it receives for fund-
g and very little for its avowed
purpose of fighting pornography.
Frank J. Howell
San Francisco, California

MORE SHAME FOR SHEBOYGAN

The storm stirred up by Richard
Rhodes's artide Sex and Sin in Sheboy-
gan (PLAynoy, August 1972) is still raging.
A downtown Sheboygan tavern called
The Jail has been selling bumper stickers
that read, SIN CITY—SHEBOYGAN, WISCON-
a sardonic comment on the PLAYBOY
ticle. Oakley Frank—the Sheboygan
chief of police who brought charges
against the late Jim Decko—wrote a let-
ter to the common councils license
committee urging it to put pressure on
"The Jail to stop distributing the stickers.
Members of the committee, which has
the power to grant and to revoke tavern
licenses, issued a warning to the owners
of The Jail.

The issue was thoroughly publicized
in The Sheboygan Press, and well over а
thousand of the bumper stickers have
now been sold. Interviewed by the Press,
Chief E asked whether. putting
pressure on the tavern to suppress the
distribution of the bumper stick
"t leaving the city open to further
by rLAYBoY. Frank replied as

follows:

“IL think sorry day when we
have to jump through the hoops and
be careful where we step so we don't
offend rrAvmo

"1 think из а sad commentary
that people who have nothing but

хе to set

filth and smut to peddle 1
the level of the morals of our

y
AYHOY
s com.

Chief Frank's attitude toward р
is typical of what the people of u
munity аге up against. Is it any wonder
that most of Sheboygan's good, talented
young people leave, even run from, this
town? There are som. tive notes,

FORUM NEWSFRONT

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

BON VOY.

HARTLEPOOL, Axo—A warmheart-
ed 48-year-old British housewife who op-
crates а lonelyhearts club says she could
line up a large number of girls willing
to go to bed with British soldiers on the
night before they are shipped off for
duty іп strife-torn Northern Ireland.
She announced, “If the army chiefs
ould let me use their barracks, 1 could
lay on plenty of girls who would be only
too glad to give at least one night of love
to these youngsters. 1 only want to see
our soldiers have а little pleasure before
facing danger and the threat of losing
their lives.” Her offer has been poorly
received by townspeople, who have
written dozens of indignant letters to
the local newspaper protesting her pa-
triotic gesture.

CURING THE COPROLALIAC
NEW york crry—Medical science may
have discovered a treatment for one of
mankind's more exotic afflictions—one
in which the victim compulsively and
continually uses obscene language. The
disorder ts called the Gilles de la Tour-
ette syndrome after the 19th Century
French physician who first described it,
and й is characterized by coprolalia (un
controllable swearing), echolalia (com-
pulsive repeating of what another person
says) and facial or other muscular tics.
The condition was generally considered
untreatable until neurologists al various
medical facilities experimented with
treatments of haloperidol, a tranquilizer.
Reports from a New York physician
indicate that the drug has proved about
80 percent effective with all patients and
nearly 100 percent effective with some.

CLAP TRAP

An apparent increase in symplomless
gonorrhea in men has been reported by
physicians working in V. D. control. Tra-
ditionally, it has been women who un-
suspeclingly contract, carry and spread
the disease, because noticeable symptoms
ате absent in approximately 80 percent
of female cases, while men are usually
alerted by a burning discharge. Now,
large-scale screening of Servicemen re-
turning from Southeast Asia indicates
that gonorrhea is asymptomatic in 20 per-
cent or more of men who are infected.
Experts are uncertain whether this re-
flects any veal change in the characteris-
lics of gonorrhea or merely better
detection programs.

A new and simple blood test for gon-
orrhea is now undergoing field trials
by the New York State Health Depari-
ment, which hopes it will provide an

effective detection method jor use in muss
screening. The test doesnt determine
whether the disease is active. but only
whether the person has ever had it. A
person showing “positive” would then be
tested by older, more elaborate methods.

PORNOGRAPHY AND OTHER PERILS

In а speech advocating chastity and
denouncing pornography, Pope Paul VI
warned that "behind the initiation to
sensual. pleasure, there loom narcotics.”
He did not explain the link between sex
and drugs, but said that “we live in a
time when the animal side of human
nature is degenerating into limitless
corruption."

In Salt Lake City, the Mormon Church
issued a statement calling on its members
10 oppose “smut in any of its many in
sidious forms” because “history is replete
with examples of nations that have fallen
in а large measure through licentious
ness.” No examples were offered, however.

The former executive director of the
U.S. Commission on Obscenity and
Pornography told a group of doctors
in Atlanta that people who enjoy por-
nography tend to be well educated, well
read and socially and politically active.
Dr. W. Cody Wilson, speaking before
the Medical Association of Айата, said
the largest consumers of pornography are
young nonreligious married. men, and
he reiterated the commission's finding
that sex criminals most often are people
who were rarely or never exposed to por
nography during childhood and youth

WAGES OF SIN

Local courts are setting new records in
penalizing pornographers. In. Oakland,
California, a municipal judge levied fines
totaling $270,000 and jail terms of up to
18 months against а theater owner, а
manager and a ticket taker convicted of
showing obscene movies. In Cincinnati,
Ohio, the manager of an adult bookstore
was convicted іп а common-pleas court
of selling obscene material, sentenced to
а year less one day in jail and fined
$20,500. The company was fined $205,000
and police seized an estimated $1,000,000
worth of films, books, records and maga
zines from its warehouse.

THE WALLS HAVE VOIC!

saN pIEGoO—An attorney walking
through San Diego's Federal courthouse
saw a woman, apparently a secretary,
speak to а blank wall. She said, “Hello,
wall,” and the wall said “Hello” back.
The lawyer immediately sought а ve.
straining order barring use of the hid.
den surveillance equipment, charging

that it allowed the Government to eaves-
drop on conversations between attorneys
and clients. A judge denied the vestrain-
ing order after a U.S. Marshal insisted
that the microphones and speakers in
the walls were merely part of the court-
house security system.

KLEANING OF THE KLAN
CINCINNATI—The Ku Klux Klan is
trying to cleanse its ranks of Govern-
ment agents and informers by requiring
members to take lic-detector tests. The
Ohio Grand Dragon of the United
Klans of America said. that Klan organi-
zations in 22 states already have poly-
graph machines and that the Klan has
set up a polygraph operators’ school,

IF YOU CAN'T LICK "EM ...

new оғын, INDIA—The municipal
council may be ashed to authorize a
certain amount of graft among pub-
lic officials as a means of controlling it.
A member of the council has prepared
a resolution that reads, “This house is
of the opinion that the existing legal as
well as administrative measures have
miserably failed to curb corruption.
This house, therefore, demands that cor
ruption and bribery be legalized and
suitable limits be fixed for different lew
els and for different kinds of work

BOOZE AND THE BADG

SAN FRANCISCO—A 22-year veteran of
the Sun Francisco police force has been
granted $1161-per-month disability pay
for а year, having successfully argued
that his alcoholism was brought on by
his job. A psychiatrist told the city's
retirement board that public hostility
toward police was the major cause of the
emotional stresses that the officer at-
tem pled to relieve by excessive drinking.

FIGHTING THE KILLER WEED

OCALA, FLORWA—Local police have
launched а campaign against the illegal
use and possession of the killer weed
tobacco. A city ordinance prohibits
the smoking of tobacco by anyone under
18, and police began enforcing the law
on instructions from the city council. In
the first month of the crackdown, six
teenagers were arrested and faced with
maximum fines of 5500 or up to 60 days
in jail. The local school board has also
passed а stiff no-smoking regulation.
Since the vule went into effect, several
students have been suspended and some
of them turned over to police.

PRICED HOT LINE
INGYON, b.G—The nationwide
“heroin hot line” has proved to be a

costly failure, according to a New York
Congressman, but Federal drug officials
appear intent on continuing it. The toll-
free telephone number wes set up by

the Nixon Administration to encourage
anonymous lips on drug pushers, but in
its first four months of operation, it has
cost taxpayers about $250,000, while net-
ting only 14 arrests and two grams of
heroin—which works өш to about
$3,500,000 an ounce. U.S. Representa-
tive Lester L. Wolff cited a General Ac-
counting Office report in calling for an
end to the hotline. program as “ineffec-
live"; but а drug-control official in the
Justice Department said, “We're not giv-
ing any thought at all to closing it down.
To the contrary . .. we're going to beef
it up” The С. А. О. report covered a
three-month period and stated that of
28,341 calls received, 23,978 were un-
usable—mosily from cranks, hecklers and
people wondering if the hot line really
works.

CANNABIS CONTROVERSY

Continuing research on marijuana
and hashish has produced more contra-
dictory announcements:

+ Two Philadelphia psychiatrists claim
that hash aud pot contributed to the
emotional problems of 13 patients who
used one or both drugs jor up to six
years. Drs. Harold. Kolansky and. Wil-
liam T. Moore of the University of
Pennsylvania contend that their sub-
jects’ problems developed when they
started using the drugs and diminished
or disappeared within 3 lo 24 months
after the drug use stopped. An earlier
study by the same psychiatrists, also link-
ing marijuana with mental illness, found
little acceptance in scientific circle:

+ A marijuana research team al the
University of Texas medical branch in
Galveston. has reported sleep disturb-
ances and lethargy among 14 volunteers
who smoked marijuana regularly for
ten days.

“іп Greece, researchers connected
with the University of Athens conducted
а 20-year study of 30 hash smokers with-
out finding any evidence of harmful ej-
fects. A psychology professor at New
York Medical College told а mecting of
the American Electroencephalogra phic
Society that the study found “no sign of
chronic brain damage” and that “the ex
tent and number of brain abnormalities
did not exceed what you would expect
with any group of the same age.”

GRASS STAMPEDE

BALMIMORE—The Maryland Psychiatric
Research Center was having trouble
finding volunteers for a marijuanasmok-
ing experiment until its need was re-
ported in the local morning paper. By
nine AM, the centers switchboard was
swamped by more than 400 calls from
eager applicants and had to close down,
and employees arriving for work at the
center had to push through crowds of
would-be volunteers wailing at the door.

however. When 1 checked last, the tav-
em owners, despite the threats,
planned to sell the stickers. And one
bar is now selling a drink called the
Sin City Special.

J. R. Grollmus
Sheboygan, Wisconsin

MARITAL MORALITY
g to many articles Гуе read

Accord
recently, extramarital relations increas-
ingly are considered acceptable. In every
form, extramarital sex is now being
practiced more widely than ever, from
ordinary adultery without the mate’
knowledge through consensual adultery
and spouse pping to group sex and
group шиптир АП this makes me un-
easy. Sexual freedom and experimenta-
п before settling down are one thi
but I think sex in violation of the m
riage vows breaks one of man's oldest
moral laws and could have disastrous
consequences for a couple, as well as lor

лу. You can only change human na-
ture so much, and it's not natural to agree
cheerfully to let one's lifetime mate go to
bed with someone else. I think the rising
ational divorce rate is the result of this
eroding of the marital bond. Does The
Playboy Forum take any position on the
ethics of extran al SCN?
Charles Porter
Baltimore, Maryland

Our basic ethical precept is that people
should (есі free to jollow whatew
moral code they prefer, as long as they
don't harm others and don't ivy to force
their views on the unwilling. Conv
tionally, marriage is an agreement be-
tween two people and, despite the ritual
recited, we don't think the conditions of
the agicement песа be inflexible. The
essential ingredient in a good contract is
that the terms be freely accepted by both
parties. This means the couple might
agree lo participate in swapping; they
might decide to go their separate ways,
each with full knowledge and consent of
the other, and find their own extra-
marital partners; they could do the same
and agree not to inform cach other; or
they could agree to adhere to the tra-
ditional standard of monogamy. Many
people, we believe, are not tempera-
mentally suited to handle swinging or
other open forms of marriage. Therefore,
if their marriages are valuable to
them, they will forgo extramarital sex—
or, if one or both must have it, they
will tacitly agree not to talk about it

As for divorce, many marriages survive
in spile of extramarital sex and many
others break up for other reasons, Even
where adultery precedes divorce, it is not
necessarily the cause of it. According to
the two Kinsey reports, half of all hus
bands and over а quarter of all wives
have had extramarital relations by the
age of 40; however, Kinsey found that
the effect of these activities on marriage
could not be predicted. “There are

55

ы many factors that тау affect the outcome

For those who For the man It's a mini, of the extramarital activities, and the
want the best по | who likes to go but it’s a lot record ic much more diverse than has
matter how little | thru the gears. of camera. generally been believed,” he wrote in

“Sexual Behavior in the Human Male.”
His studies indicated that where the
partners accepted. extramarital relations,
thought them unimportant or simply did
not let each other know about them,
the stability of the murriag
likely to be threatened. Extramavital
relations apparently suit some people
it's a question, nol of human na
ture, but of individual attitude.

it costs.

PLAYBOY

was less

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the rest must attend a class in morals
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the other, or face conduct and. aptitude
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Playboy Forum, October. 19
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Transcription 8ЕПЕ8 адан er BEES
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Annual Report

THE PLAYBOY FOUNDATION

During the past few years. the Playboy Foundation has
grown rapidly and has extended its activities into many new
as of social and legal reform. It is now a fully staffed oper-
ion directed by Burton Joseph. an eminent civil-liberties
attorney. Because of the Foundation’s past accomplishments
and its ambitions for the future, we believe it appropriate

to issue an annual report on Foundation activities for
PLavwoy readers.
The Playboy Foundation was established in 1965, and its

first success was gaining the release from prison of a West
ginia man convicted of having oral-genital relations with
a consenting woman. Subsequently. the Foundation’s activi-
ties were highlighted by the ir of an Indiana man sei

ing a on term for having had anal intercourse
with his wife. the exoneration of a young unmarried Illinois
couple charged w tion, and its participation in a

U.S. Supreme Court case that reversed the conviction of a
birth-control advocate: and
contraceptive law,

The Foundation’s scope has expanded each year, until to-
day it advances the entire range of ideals and reforms put
forth by Hugh Hefner in The Playboy Philosophy and dis-
cussed in The Playboy Forum. These fall into three broad
categories: the protection and extension of civil. rights and
the modernization of laws pert x, drugs,

thortion

overturned the Massachusetts

liberties:

1g to 5

contraception nd censorship: and the support of
research in the fields of human sexuality and population con-
iol, Major projects of the Playboy Foundation during the
st year have included the following:

In cooperation with the
the Foundation hi
which deals with virtually all

Rights of Prisoners:
Civil Liberties Uni
Prison Rights Project,
onem! pr
know зош prison conditions through litigation to guarantee
access to inmates. The Foundation also helped defend
a woman lawyer who, because of her prison-reform efforts,
was accused of attempting to incite rebellion in T
institutions.

Capital Punishment: In cooperation with interested groups
such as the NAACP Legal. Defense and Educ
the Foundation hi ed in lobbying and litigation. to
end the de: y

Military Justice: With the ACLU. the Founda
supports the Lawyers Military Defense Committee, which
provides legal counsel and representation. for U.S. mili-
тату personnel.

Rights of Mental Patients:
uted to the National Council for the Rights of the Me:
Impaired im cases coi
mental institutions.

Rights of Juveniles: The Foundation has
tional Wellare Rights Organization, the La
of Chicago and other
rights of mi
ollenders with psychothe
alternatives to reform school or ii

Rights of Homosexuals: In seve
the Foundation has aided individuals and their attorneys in
challenging laws and policies t iminate against people.
solely on the basis ol their sexual orientation— particularly in
y ince, Civil Service employment, miti-
y discharge and pol pinent.
dom of the Press: The Foundation. participated in
al cases involving the rights of the press, among them a

pris-
lems. and has protected the publics right to

media

s penal

Yhe Foundation has contrib-
liy
sting involuntary confinement in

ded the Na-
al Aid Bureau
ns in protecting the legal
«Тоне to provide young

nors and

1 suppor

Li

id rehabilitation. programs as
iprisonment
al important legal actions,

successful legal challenge to the authority of police to r
the offices of а California college newspaper im send of
photographs of student demonstrators.

Youth Counseling: A 24-hour emergency information and
assistance center for Chicago's young people has heen estab-

shed with the help of the Foundation.
Abortion: The Foundation supports the work of vai
abortion law-reform and abortion-referral groups: it assists in
al actions aimed at repealing restrictive abortion laws and
has aided individuals threatened with prosecution under
е abortion statutes, Learning of the unprecedented man
ighter conviction of а Florida woman for obtaining
portion. the Foundation provided her with the legal counsel
of a constitutional lawyer and other support.

Political Reform: The Foundation has aided various ellorts
to reform election laws and broaden voter partiGiparion, It is
presently assisting the father of a student killed at Kent State
University in his suit to establish the legal responsibility of
the National Guard and the State of Ohio for actic
dsmen during campus disorders.

Mavijuana-Law Reform: As well as participating
test cases challenging existing marijuana Jaws and unus
severe marijuana penalties, the Foundation is a subst
supporter of the National Organization for the Refor
of Marijuana Laws (NORML), which has undertaken. both
legal and educational projeas aimed at revising pot laws and
coordinating similar efforts by independent reform groups
on the state level.

Sex Law Reform: Ihe Foundation is backing two major
legal-vesearch programs intended to provide attorneys with in
formation needed to challenge the constitutionality of laws
governing consensual sexual conduct. between adults.

Sex Research: Various clinics, researchers and. educational
groups ded by Foundation grants. These org:
include the Reproductive Biology Research Foundation. di
rected by Masters and Johnson, the Sex Information and Edu-
cation Councit of the United States (SIECUS), the Midwest
Population Center vasectomy clinic and the Midwest Associa
tion for the Study of Human Sexuality, the University of
Minnesota. School of Medicine sex-ceducation. progim and.
research groups workin: fter pills and once-
a month. birth-control pills.

Rights of Women; Besides supporting reform of abortion
laws, the Foundation has joined the ACLU. in cases to
establish equal legal rights lor women.

Censorship: The Foundation has provided assistance i
cases challenging the constitutionality of state and. Federal
censorship laws, with particular emphasis on. protecting the
individual's right of privacy and establishing clear and uni
їо terial.

jous

is ol

1 selected
ly

anizi

ions

on morn

legal standards for published sexual ui

The successes of the Playboy Foundation have indicated
the value of such efforts, the need to continue them aud the
amount of work that remains to be done, m 1973. this
work not only will be continued but will be expanded. Some
of the à s bei lude test cases to. estab
lish equal employment opportunities re
examination of the grand-jury system and its potential for
polit research projecs in penology with a view to
improving or implementing rel tion programs: and fur-
ther support of imaginative research projects. on human.
sexuality, sexual adjustment and population. control. In

1 report, which will appear cach. Jani
ill continue to publish news of the latest Founda
activities in The Playboy Forum.

explored

irdless of sex or race:

dition to our annu

we w

57

PLAYBOY

now a
fortu

thing of the past in the U.S Un
mely, this means that we treat
better than we do children
nple, which is now rid
whipping post, passed а Jaw three
allowing educators to paddle
school children. Apparently, what isn't
E Еке а beautiful woman, appropriate as crimin hment is
ally. many
©з throughout the country have
1 punish-
the same
ng laws to

- requires the touch of an expert to useful in education. Ironic
h its full potential. The KENWOOD

ling, AM/FM Stereo Receiver
music to the apex of perfect.

КЕ SET себепле prevent parents from beating, their of
г own talent for enjoying i (the battered-child syndrome)
L life to the fullest. 1 was a delegate to the First Annual

orporl Punishm
DoD virile: held in New York City in May 197
conference hit was called because the
i tend toward resumption of
Eu
While many such la
dates back to the €
Perhaps the impressi
a propensity toward violence is more
under ht of the fact
that generations of Texas kids have been
hit with ch paddles made from
baseball bats split im half. During the
1971-1972 school term, the Dallas Inde-
pendent School District reported that
90.354 paddlings were meted out for
such offenses as forgetting gym shoes
and failing to say "Su."
Our culture must always have its
whipping boys. As soon as it is forced to
stop beating and dehumanizing prison

PLAYBOY... BOUND s 00v
TO BE CLASSIC Clues Аена уне Punidiment

с

Introducing сиг new binder. Preserves Dallas, Texas
and protects six issues of PLAYBOY, ҒАЛЫ
the classic. PLAYBOY and our
HARE Hen symbol in black on rich FORGOTTEN AMERICANS
rown. soft-touch vinyl cover. ‘There ares "mm i
Single binder, $7. et of two $12.50. Ther € ar present 926 Americans in

foreign prisons on drug charges. Though
the State Department has refused to re-
lease the information, we believe the ma-
jority are n na ollenders. NORML
is indignant at our Government's failure
to even (y lo help these people, Due
process, as we know it, is nonexistent in
many countries, The systems of

vial icion are often total
shams: the prison se
Playboy Products, Playboy Buildii for drug offenses are often extremely long:
Dept. MB0101, 919 N. Michigan Ave" and the prison conditions are unbearably
Chicago, IIl. 60611 poor. Hundreds of. American citizens arc

st.

nd o

nces handed down

Please send me:

(no) single binder(s), MM196 at $7.00 each. Total $. locked up in miserable cages for conduct
(no) set(s) of two binders, MM197 at $12.50 per set. Total $ that may not have even been а basis for

Please add 50€ per item for handling Total $.
No C.O.D. orders, please.
O Payment enclosed, (Make checks payable to Playboy Products.)
C] Charge to my Playboy Club credit Key no. [ 1 m

criminal prosceution under our 1
system. Yet the Government fails. to
intervene, It applies pressure for scores
ol other reasons—to protect /
investments abroad, increase
the importation of mariju
refuses to help win freedom for these
people. I suppose this is typical of the
order of priorities that we find in this
country—money over people.

The Swe Department has refused

(please print)

L

10 give us a list of the names of these pris
oners or the charges against them. It
said this was confidenti. ind, іп Catch-
22 fashion, told us that we would need

cach prisoner

written permission. fro

before we could get this information. No

pressure on the State Department. to
change its policy. Concerned citizens
should write to their Congressmen and
to the State Department urging that the
Government do everything in its power
to help overseas. prisoners.
Keith Stroup, Executive Director
National Organization for the
Reform of Mari
Washington, D. C.

¢ can help these people unless we put

папа Laws

JOURNALISTIC IMMUNITY

Fm a little surprised to find the
October 1972 Forum Newsfront. appar-
endy suppor the idea that new:
men should be granted immunity from
1 legal questioning as witnesses.
What is to prevent every scoundrel in
the country from. instantly. becoming а
newsman? Certainly it would pay the
leaders of organized. crime to set up a
newsletter here and there, and so em
ploy their button men. Can't. you just
sce the newest magazine on the market,
The Mafia Monthly, with the largest
staff of “journalists

in the country?

A. eldzamen

Chica Illinois

Journalistic immunity doesn’t allow
a newsman to sidestep normal legal
questioning as a criminal witness; it
only permits him to protect the identity
of an informant who supplies informa-
tion that some public official or criminal
wants to conceal. Your hypothetical
scoundrel would cite the Fifth Amend-
ment, not journalistic immunity, lo
avoid selj-incrimination, Indeed, he
could not claim to be a newsman unless
he first publicized his illegal activities
Even if he were that foolish, he still
could not claim immunity, because he

would be protecting himself, not an
informant. Secret sources ave oflen the
only means by which newsmen gain nc-
cess 1o information that the authorities
cannot obtain or politicians do not want
revealed. At Ihe same time that a news
man legitimately protects the identities
of his sources, he protects the public's
I to know. This is essential to in
vestigative reporting, which we consider
to be one of the most important public

services that journalists. perform.

"The Playboy Forum” offers the
opportunity for an extended dialog be
tween readers and editors of this pub
lication on subjects and issues related lo
"The Playboy Philosophy.” Address all
correspondence to The Playboy Forum,
Playboy Building, 919 North Michi
gan Avenue, Chicago, Ilinois 60611.

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PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: CARROLL O'CON N OR

a candid conversation with archbigot archie bunker's better half

As а television series, the idea was
improbable. Impossible, some said. A
similar program had been a hit in Eng-
land, but who in America would want
10 waich a wee!

у situation comedy star-
ring a middle-aged, blue-collar bigot
who not only called a spade a spade but
indiscriminately maligned members of
other minority groups as "spicks,"
"Hebes," “dumb Роіасі “Chinks”
and “tamale eaters” liberal politicians
as “pinkos,” welfare recipients as “bums
on relief” and anyone whose sexual
s differed from his own as a “pre
ven"? His dutiful wife, the outline con-
tinued, would be a well-meaning but
-minded and slightly addled home-
maker whose ministrations to her potbel-
lied spouse would evoke both sympathy
and—]rom militant feminists—rage. Also
occupying their lower-middle-class sub-
urban home would be a buxom blonde
daughter who didn't believe in God and
her Polish-American husband—a college
student droopy mustache
shaggy hair clashed almost audibly with
his father-in-law’s reactionary life style.
The black family living across the street
would provide a handy target for the
ol's rantings, and various episodes
would tackle such topics as menopause,
impotence and homosexuality.

"Ozzie and Harriet” it wasn't. And in
the domain of American television com-

whose and

“I've heard some of the most privileged
people saying the same dumb things
about race and religion thal Archie says
all the time. The only difference is that
they don’t mispronounce the words.”

edy, where witless programs starring
talking cars, pampered chimpanzees and
nouveau riche hillbillies have prospered
in prime time, “All in the Family"—as
the project was christened—seemed the
remotest of prospects. Actually, four
years elapsed from the time producers
Norman Lear and Bud Yorkin hit upon
the idea of adapting the BBC series
“Till Death Us Do Part” until the mo-
ment ils American version found a spot
on the CBS network schedule, as а Janu-
ary 1971 midseason replacement. By
year's end, solidly entrenched atop the
Nielsen ratings, it was the most talked-
about television show of the new decade.

This month marks the second anni-
versary of "All in the Family's” television
debut, and the phenomenon it sparked
is, if anything, gathermg steam. The
show has inspired one direct spin-of—
“Maude,” featuring characters first in-
troduced on “A. 1. T. F."—and a second
British-American transplant, “Sanford
and Son,” and is crediled with having
paved the way for such shows as
“M*A*S*H” and “Bridget Loves Ber-
nie,” the themes and language of which
once would have been considered too
daring for the tube

“All in the Family" also launched.
а late-rising slar: 48-year-old Carroll
O'Connor, whose deft impersonation of
the malaproping Archie Bunker has

“The world is rushing past Archie into
a future that he can’t even же, and
as it rushes by, it ignores him. That
drives him wild. There атс millions of
Americans like him.”

made him while America’s favorite
workingman—and earned him an Emmy
«ward. For O'Connor, becoming the
breadwinner of TV's. first family was as
unexpected as the success of the show
üsclf. One of three sons bom to an
American lawyer and an Irish school
teacher, he had grown up in New York
City and served with the merchant ma-
vine in the North Atlantic during World
War Two. At the National University
in Dublin, he established a substantial
reputation in classical drama at the
esteemed Gate Theater. After successes
in Shakespeare al the Edinburgh Festi-
val and in live contemporary teleplays
оп the BBC, he decided іп 1951 to return
to New York City and try his luck on the
Broadway stage—but his luck was all
bad. When nobody would hire him, he
gave up on the theater and became a
substitute high school teacher. It wasn't
until three years later that he resumed
acting, in summer stock. Subsequent
parts in several TV dramas, a couple of
flop plays and a wel wed. perform-
ance in а Broadway revival of Clifford
Odets’ “The Big Knife" led to his 1961
molion-picture debut as a political op-
portunist in “А Fever in the Blood.”
Before long, he settled into а remu-
nevative, if unspectacular, career as а
supporting player in 26 films, among

теш

do in life, but TV is ied to a moral
taboo about il. We're afraid the public
will object; and most of the lime they
don't object at all.”

61

PLAYBOY

62

them “Kelly's Heroes? “Waterhole #3,"
"Doctors Wives" and “What Did You
Do in the War, Daddy?"—in which his
blowhard performance as an outrageous
general inspired Lear and Yorkin to cast
him as Archie Bunker. The impact of
his association wilh "All in the Family"
was made abundantly clear not long ago
in theaters exhibiting revivals of “Cleo-
patra,” the epic 1963 film starving the
Burions, When O'Connor first appeared
onscreen as Casca, concealing a dagger
beneath his toga, audiences laughed and
shouted, “Hey, there's Archie!”

Despite many other roles since Casca
(most recently as the Presidential candi.
date in “Of Thee 1 Sing,” CBS’ rousing
revival of the 1931 stage lampoon of
national politics), the Archie image may
well dog O'Connor through the re-
mainder of his career—a fact that he
tacitly acknowledges in his recently
launched nightclub асі by wondering
aloud whether O'Connor is Archie's
master or vice versa. To ascertain the
similarities and differences between the
actor and the character he so credibly
plays, Contributing Editor Richard War-
ren. Lewis visited O'Connor at his home
in Brentwood, California. Lewis writes:

“O'Connor's house, an. 11тоот Hal-
ian Mediterranean. mansion, is worlds
removed from the tattily furnished bun-
galow of the Bunkers. Everything, from
18th Century French tales to hand-
painted Duich screens, a sofa uphot-
slered in hand-woven Indian yaw silk,
a modern glassand-chrome coffee table
and the Oriental carpeting, testifies lo
the elegant and eclectic taste of O'Con-
nor and Nancy, his wife of 21 years.
Mis. O'Connor, ап accomplished por-
trait artist who stands six feet tall,
took те on a tour of the premises,
which have been lauded in several archi-
tectural periodicals

“Ona table in the living room were vol-
umes of biography, art and short stories,
beside a сору of ‘The Great Robinson,
а film script O'Connor has written about
an upper-middie-class black lawyer who
is exiled by his own people—a prop-
erty scheduled to go before the cam
eras this year, starving Sammy Davis J
O'Connor, who was on the far side of
the room tinkering with а four-speaker
audio system, waved a cigar and mo-
tioned me toward an illuminated ar-
moire well stocked with expensively filled
Waterford crystal decanters. He wore a
short-sleeved sport shirt flapping outside
his wash-and-wear trousers—a camouflage
that barely concealed his ample waisi—
апа а pair of fashionable suede Gucci
loafers. When he spoke, his A’s were the
broad tones of a classically trained actor;
they sounded incongruous coming from
the jowly face of Archie Bunker.
atch in hand, he led the way
through double French doors to а
poolside terrace and sat down in а

asbacked directors chair with his
eight-year-old boxer, Fred, nestled at his
feet. Sitting in the shadows of olive and
cypress trees, we could hear the murmur
of traffic on a nearby freeway, the calls
of blue jays and the shrieks from a soft-
ball game in the street, їп which
O'Connor's ten-year-old adopted son,
Hugh, was playing center field. After the
standard pleasantries, we got down to

cai

serious conversation."

PLAYBOY: Why do you think so many
Americans have responded to Archie
Bunker and what he stands for?
‘CONNOR: Because he's recognizably re
Everybody can relate to him in s
way because they know him. Blacks have
encountered him. So h
been their neighbor.
milies. Most of the
secn in telev s are emxscu-
lated com characters that nobody
has сусг really touched or talked to.
They're ger or smaller than life; if
еуте d, they're sweetly flawed
ut Archie is different. His llaws—racism
and bigotry—involve him іп the rei
world, not the make-believ їз is
monumental di тіп American lite
ature, not just a stick figure on televisi
He's got more balls than anyone who pre-
ceded him on the tube, and so does the
idea of the show itself.

PLAYBOY: Archie has been called a work-
ing-class hero. Do you think that's wu
O'CONNOR: No, I don't. By definition
it hero is a champion of the underdog, а
defender of principles, a man of nobili-
ty. Archie embraces none of these
tues. In fact, some critics have charged
that we're presenting the wrong kind of
example to the working class. An edito-
rial in the Teamsters Union publication
condemned us for caricaturing the work
ingman as a potbellied, simple-minded,
beer-swilling racist and bigot.
PLAYBOY: Is Archie an antihero, tli
O'CONNOR: Archie is neither hero nor
antihero. He's а reactor—one of that bi
group in the middle upon which both
heroes and antiheroes feed. Not that he
represents any particular class. This is
one of the reasons for his popularity.
There's something of Archie in
people and on all levels. I know s
лу rich people who have never bı
blue collar in their whole lives who are
more like Archie than any wo
Гуе ever known.

PLAYBOY: You say he's no hero, Is he
ly moral?

least basic:

O'CONNOR. He thinks he is But his
morality is mainly centered on sexual
matters.

PLAYBOY: How?

O'CONNOR: Anything that embarrasses

Archie is immoral. Thats why sexual
discusions in the home are forbidden
And subjects like menopause, impotence,
miscarriage and homosexuality, all uf

which we've done shows about. Archie"
daughter said to him onc night. "You
can't even bear the mention of the word
sex," and Archie replied, “I don't allow
no four-letter words in this hou
PLAYBOY: What about outside the house;
would he go to an X-rated movie?
O'CONNOR: He did go опе night. The
kids dragged him off to sce one and he
was very upset by it. But if he were
down at Kelsey's bar and the boys sug-
gested going to a great stag movie, he'd
go—and enjoy himself. In one episode,
he told Mike that when he was in the
Army Air Corps in Italy, the boys went
off to a whorchouse and he accompanied
a single guy indulging
himself. If he had been married at the
c, he probably still would have donc
But he needed the impetus of the
boys saying “Let's all go out and get
laid" before he could go along with it.
PLAYBOY. Was he just having some fu
or do you think he was trying to prove
his manhood with the rest of the guys?
O'CONNOR: A lot of sex is undertaken
to prove something to others or to you
self. I suppose some of it is undertake
out of purely sexual desire, But 1 su
pect that some of it—at least among
those of Archie's generation and back
ground —is undertaken out of guilt.
PLAYBOY: Feeling as uptight as he does
about it, how is Archie's sex lile with
Edith?
O'CONNOR: Except for a menopausal
interlude she underwent on one of last
years shows, Edith seems to me rathe
content. 1 suppose if she were sexually
deprived, it would show up in some way
contrary to thc happy appearance she
gives. I think they have a fairly active
sexual life, limited only by the dimini:
ing interest and abilities of advancing
c. The writers suggest that there's
something wrong with Archie
ual way, what with the Іше jokes they
give to Edith that have reference to his
sexual inertia. But 1 don't believe that
and I've complained about it. The fun.
ny line has to take precedence, thou;
and I сап get much support to cli
these things.
PLAYBOY: Is Archie f.
O'CONNOR: If cheat r on his
mind, he's forgotten about it, because the
opportunities just aren't there for Archie.
He seems to beat a path between work
and home, and his recreation is mostly
the neighborhood saloons where he
likely to run into ladi

i
wouldn't b
can be picked up. But ev

ady on the make, I don't thi
he'd know what to do with it anymore.
PLAYBOY: Do you feel that his sexua
titudes influence any of his other views?
O'CONNOR: Well, Archie regards his son-
—who has no hang-ups about sex.
or not as many as Archie—as a semi-
pervert, and he demonstra every

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PLAYBOY

64

ay. If Mike brought up the subject
of contraceptives or birth control, he'd
be told to get his mind out of the gutter
PLAYBOY. Since Archie and Edith have
only one child—probably for economic
reasons—isn't it likely that they practice
birth control themselves?

O'CONNOR: Sure, but birth control
gives freedom to ladies to enjoy them-
selves sexually without fear of conse
quences, so in that sense he feels it’s а
bad thing. In the sense that it prev
more blacks and Puerto is and im.
digents from being born, birth control is
а good thing, because all those welfare
children will cost him money.

at docs Archie have

ast

nonwhites?

O'CONNOR: The fact il
ent from hii
The most
world

t they're differ-
. and therefore unequal.
Imirable black guy in the
still just a black guy то Archie
He can never get over that то make
genuine contact with the black man or
let the black man make contact. with
him. He m € «үй conversations
with Lionel Jefferson, his black neigh-
Lor's kid, but they
barrier he has wii
by his parents at a хе
not really all his fault. They told
when he was or seven that it
bad business to play with black kids.
he was told to be wary of the Jews
he was probably told that no Catholi
were to be trusted, either. Unless expe-

always stop at the

ience teaches him otherwise. he will
carry these s m all
his life.

PLAYBOY: Have Archie's ra
in any way since

al attitudes
the show

Archie to change his at 1
would have to come down personally
nd speak to him
PLAYBOY: Is he rcligious?
O'CONNOR: Not very. He goes to church
only unwillingly. Maybe once a year, with
‘dith, he goes to one of the Protestant
services, d Easter time or maybe
t Christmas. He feels very strongly that
xl is Шеге, but organized religion, de-
riving from a system of belief and wor-
ship. is not only beyond him but very
ng to him. Ministers are selling а
^d of morality that he doesn't accept.
him what he should do
fellow man, and his concept is
that he should do nothing for his fellow
man, because there's no man that’s do-
anything for him. If he's geuing
der his own steam, then every-
с should do the same. He thinks.
sters who preach that dogma are
raving socialists, as contemptible a lot as
the raving socialists who make up that
communist front organization known as
the Democratic ty
PLAYBOY: How does Archie feel about
the Repu
O'CONNOR:

а conservative, he finds

As

the Republican Party more appealing.
more truly American. He somehow
the notion that the С.О. Р. stands for
direct no-nonsense action, especially
when it comes to {оге irs. Ма
country is at odds with the United
States, he thinks we ought to tell that
nation how it should behave and to
warn them that they'd better start shap-
S up or suffer the consequences For
those reasons, Barry Goldwater is the
kind of Republican Archie likes.
PLAYBOY: How docs he feel about Rich-
ard Nixon?

O'CONNOR: І don't think he likes N
on all that well, other than because he's
the Commander in Chief. We've had
Archie criticize Nixon on the show once
nplicitly if not directly, He
approve of the Nixon wip to
for example. And the President's
51500 floor under incomes was а move
that no New Dealer ever seemed to have
contemplated, and I don't think Archie
liked that. He doesn't approve of giving
an y away to anybody.

If he were unemployed. of course.
he'd be the first ло pick up his unem-
ployment check. And he's looking for
ward то his Social Se But he
thinks that welfare. programs are squeez
ing his bucks. He's wrong: the war is
squeezing his bucks. but he doesn't
know how to disapprove of the war.
Archie goes along with the Government
line that we must interfere abroad for
our own security. He doesn’t trouble to
analyze it. but then how many people
do? We accept what the President tells
us in this country. We're contemptuous
of foreign nations that go along with
their dictators; yet in this country, we
go along uuquestioningly. The President
sends troops mbodia and you
take a poll the next day and find that 70
percent or 80 percent think he did the
right thing.

1 feel that the para
d today is d

mount issue in the

c American Preside

power to start wars. He can precipitate
war more quickly than the presidium

in Mosxow. 1 don w anybody in

histor

маг a

Us

aterally as ап
з President. Except in a war of
selfdefense, as World War Two.
where an immediate response is v
1 without asking anybody any
one man has no right to make
n for us. Wa matter. for
the conscience and the mor idement
‘of the people in the democracy.
PLAYBOY: How would Archie fect about
the view that war is a matter for indi-
vidual conscience and moral judgment?
Specifically, what would he think
proposals of amnesty for draft. dod,
who claim that our Vietnam involve-
ment is immoral?

O'CONNOR: As far as Archie's concerned,
mnesty would be tantamount to letting

ric

PLAYBOY: What about another youth
oriented proposil—that of reducing
lies for those convicted of using
ro
O'CONNOR: Archie has heard that the
ids like marijuana, so it must be bad
nd he's heard chat it leads to U
communil living and sexual
and abandonment of responsibility and
mally, to crime, so it’s a national men.
ace, and the Communists n well be
pushing it.

PLAYBOY: How do you feel about m:
juana?

O'CONNOR: My experience with it is
slight. E first smoked marijuana 3
ago aboard ship when I was in th
merchant marine, One cigarette gave me
the same feeling that several generous
drinks would give me. In later years, I
smoked it at a friend's aparunent and
felt the sam
noticed when I was driving home that
ту depth perception had been есед
in а startling way. Objects that were
close to me seemed to be f. way.
Needless to say. that’s not very helpfa
lor driving. It scared me. So 1 dont
think I'd ever use it except maybe
home, with the knowledge that I wasn't
going anywhere for the rest of the eve-
ning. And as soon as it becomes legal
PH Keep it in the house for friends who
might want
the cibinet
PLAYBOY: Do you favor legalizing n
juana, then?
O'CONNOR: Oh, у
be voted on. We free use o
hol; matijuana to me should be
s They say it leads to t
to that. But the illc
probably wh.

0 yours

s F'd felt before, but 1

t, just as Т keep liquor i

I think it

the
is it eels
ity of the drug is

to a lot of
things. In any event, heavy punishment
for mere possession should. be eliminat
ed immediatel
PLAYBOY: Wli
capital pun
O'CONNOR: He's 100
of it, because he thinks its a deterrent
to crime. Speaking for myself. m con
aced that its no deterrent wh
ind i as been, In fact, recent. psy
chological studies indicate that it might
even be a stimulus: Certain people want
10 be punished. so they commit capital

makes it le

Archie's views on

ment?
percent in favor

v

ізәсусі

crimes im order to get the ultimate
punishment
PLAYBOY: How does Archie feel about the

upsurge of violent crime in the
O'CoNNOR І don't think he
ids Ше nature of a
ives people to crime and wha
people i
the terrible frustrat t the bot
tom of society who feel that they're never
going to make it any other way. They

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PLAYBOY

66

might be caught, shot, thrown into the
pen, but what the hell, the репу not
lot worse than where they've been
living. Archie's solution to crime would
be more powerful suppression: tougher
cops, tougher prisons, tougher laws.
‘That'll eliminate the crime, all of which
he says is coming from blacks and
Puerto Ricans.

PlAYBOY: Is he equally righteous about

white-collar crime—such as
cheating?
O'CONNOR: Archie thinks that cert

ds of corruption and thievery aren't
really wrong. In one show, he upbraided
ith for leaving her name and address
on an automobile that she damaged.
"That kind of dishonesty isn't corruption
in Archies book, because he thinks
everybody docs it, so by consensus it’s
OK. He would expect politicians to steal
a little if they could
PLAYBOY: In another episode, Archie
found himself the victim of Government
surveillance. How does his view of priva-
cy invasion compare with yours?
O'CONNOR: At по time did Archie ob-
ject to Government surveillance. He just
doesn’t want it to be directed. against
him. When it was, he chastised h
friends rather than the Government for
bringing it upon him. As far аз Archie's
concerned, the Government сап do no
wrong. As [ar as I'm concerned, searches
and seizures are outlawed under the
Constitution, and the Government is no
more privileged than any citize
ally, 1 know very
our Government and every
is going to do it, no matter
е upon them. If
tion gathered in an illegal w
can't be introduced in court. that's the
best we can do. A lor depends on who
the Attorney General is. The guy who's
the head of the Federal police will
his own policies and he'll bend the
regulations to suit himself while he's in
control. Ramsey Clark went one way
John Mitchell went another,

PLAYBOY: What did you think of Mitch-

еШ record as Attorney General?

O'CONNOR: The greatest error that
red his time in office the

cruments prosecution. of the Chi
Seven. 1 understand that many lawyers
in the Department of Justice. strongly
against prosecuting that case,
& that it would never hold up.
the Federal atto Chicago
went al nyhow Ik there were
two reasons the Government won Ше
case and got convictions against those
kids. One was Judge Hollman, who from
all reports shouldn't be sitting on the
bench; the othe William Kunsde
1 reports shouldn't be prac-
ting law. Berw
became а shambles and the Governmi
won,
PLAYBOY: There are those who contend
that the Government was equally unwise

But

who fror

en those two, the

e
T

in deciding to prosecute Angela Davis.
Do you agree?

O'CONNOR: There again, J thought from
the very beginning that they had abso-
lutely по case and that a serious judge
and jury would release that girl. It was
ridiculous to charge her with conspiracy,
and even more ridiculous that she was
jailed without bond for over a year. The
Government should pass legislation to
compensate not only Angela Davis for
the time and anguish she has
behind bars but also the thousands of
others who are held and then found
innocent.

PLAYBOY: How would Archie feel about
that?

O'CONNOR: He'd probably think the jury
was rigged and ought to have joined
Angela in her cell.
PLAYBOY: Do you have
ing а character whose v
tithetical to your own?
O'CONNOR: I don't have to share
feelings of my characters to pl
don't have to have known 1
order to play a death scene or ge.
1 wouldn't have 10 delve into myself to
play Macdull's gricf at the. news of the
rder of his children. I'm a kind of
reporter of Archie's emotions. And I do
а damn good job of reporting.

PLAYBOY: But you seem to have a great
deal of allection for him.

O'CONNOR: J have a great deal of sym-
pathy for him. As James Baldwin wrote,

ndurcd

y problem play-

ws are so ud

the
m. I

the white man here ік trapped by his
own history, a history that he himself
cannot comprehend, and therefore what

сап I do but love him? As I said before,
Archie is not altogether to blame for his
weaknesses.

PLAYBOY: Wouldn't you say that one of
those weaknesses is the lack of a sense of
humor about himself?

O'CONNOR: Yes, I certainly would. Come
to think of it, I don't believe we've done
a show in which Archie has a real laugh.
about anything. least of all himself. He
sneers. He harrumphs. But he has never
erupted in honest gales of laughter.
PLAYBOY: Why not?

O'CONNOR. Beciuse he's rendered. him-
self incapable of ir. Things jus fi
funny to people like him. And that's sad.
He's unhappy because he feels threat-
ened and thwarted. The world is rush-
g past him into a future that he curt
even sce, and as it rushes by, it ignores
n That drives H wild. There are
millions like hi Hes a working stiff
who doesn't make much money and finds
imsell terribly pinched. The world not
only refuses to act as Archie wishes it to;
it seems to be jeering at him.

PLAYBOY: Archie шау feel he’s too much
of a liule guy to be heard. But you're a
celebrity and what you say makes new
Why is it that you haven't spoken out
ist what you think is wrong with
society’

O'CONNOR: | haven't spoken өш, or

joined
things

Organizations concerned with
like eliminating pollution or
cleaning up the ghettos, simply because
I haven't got the time. St l think
helping save the nation from pollution
is a hell of a lot more important th
appearing on a nightclub stage or ma
ing record albums. But sometimes you
must do th don't appear to be
of much value to anybody else. I have to
do whatever jobs I've contracted to do
asa performe
PLAYBOY; Still, don't you (ссі lty
about not finding time for some kind of
public-service work?

O'CONNOR: Sure, I feel guilty. 1 worry
about it, But, like most guilts, it's pal-
liated by pleasures. Let me give you an
example. During my most recent appe:
ance in Las Vegas, while shooting craps.
1 lost a couple of Gs. When my wife saw
the markers 1 had signed on our hotel
bill, she said to me in a very patronizing
manner: “Think of the unfortunate
children. you could
school with that mone!
right. I felt guilty. Сой
next day, 1 gave an extra-large donation,
PLAYBOY: If you have time to gamble,
why can't you find the time for
constructive activi
O'CONNOR: Christ, don't you th

if it coss me a couple of gr
have no idea
myself professionally
guess that’s my big ego trip—trying to
cover all of this new territory, doing
night clubs, recordings, television spe
cials, my own show, promoting written

material of mine that’s been lying
around for years and that pcople are
suddenly showing an interest in. Instead

of going at these opportunities conse
ively, I've rushed at them like a child
who's always had things doled өш to
him in small 1 suddenly
finds the gate open and a pile of goodies
in front of him. I should be mature
enough at the age of 48 to know that I
can't encompass it all. That kind of
avaricious attitude is more appropriate to
the character of Archie than to my ow
PLAYBOY: On whom have you based his
character, if not on yourself?

O'CONNOR: I'm using as my model а com-
posite of people like Archie that I've
known or met. I've taken his physical

mounts

movements from а couple of аси
ances—his cocky swagger around the
house, the way he smokes and handles a

2 If I'm imitating anybody's speech
ранет, it’s that of a New York State
supremecourt judge who once said in
my hearing that he used to enjoy a
certain restaurant out іп Queens but
that he hadn't gone there in recent y

because it had become “а regulah rende.
vooze fa bums.” He talked exactly like
Archie. His accent was pure Canarsi
And this was а man who had been to

ars

` you bis day oda yourself.

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PLAYBOY

68

If you were to put that

law school.
judge in Archi

job and put Archie on

Ше judge's bench, you wouldn't be
aware of the switch.
So in the speech and in certain physi

I haven't called upon
1. Archie's bigotry
asses. Гуе heard

al characterist
worki

uh
also cuts across all c
some of the most privileged people say-

ing the same dumb things about race
d religion and philosophy that Archie
says all the time. The only dillerence is
that they don't mispronounce the words.
PLAYBOY: How do blacks in the audience
act to Archie's racism?

O'CONNOR: Usually in a positive m:
ner, One black letter writer told me the
reason he liked the show was that for
the first time ће felt that the racist was
being portrayed plainly for everyone to
see. He said he could sit back and look
at this racist and say. what the hell ha
1 got to bc afraid of? This guy is morc
ightened, more thr an I am.
PLAYBOY- The Ju of Ebony
contended that such an attitude is Іші-
blacks into a false sense of security.
Do you think that may be true?
O'CONNOR: Their argument is highly
theoretical. They don’t bring forth any
blacks who give evidence of being lulled
imo a false sense of security. If they
could somehow show me and Norman

Lear that blacks are being misled by our
program, that they're lying down and
beginning to accept stereotyping all over

gain, we'd quit.
PLAYBOY: You once said. you'd never met
a black person who didn't like the show.
Would you still say that?
O'CONNOR: No, 1 would Iv
learned that Bill Cosby doesn't lik
show, from what I hear of statements
he's made on ious talk shows, And
I've found out that Whitney Young 100k
a dim view of it, Maybe there are more
black people than 1 think don't
like the show. But any black who's ever
come to me im person, and there have
heen scores of them, has always had only
the best to say.

PLAYBOY: Again according to Ebony, the
show's use of racdal epithets such as
“won” and "jungle bunny" has caused
several ugly incidents and а great deal
of tension ai a once-placid integrated
New York high school. Docs that con-
cern you?

O'CONNOR: Well. some people sce ten-
sion where others don't. I remember I
having dinner in Rome and 1 ran
to the American writer Max Lerner. It
was at a time when an Italian flier who
was flying a mercy cargo into the Congo
had been butchered, Lerner said to me
that he felt tension all over. Rome that
ht. I felt nothing. I said, “Where do
you find it?" He sid, "E feel it in the
people. everywhere Т go." To me, Rome
seemed to be Rome as always. At various.
times during 1955, 1956 and 1957, I

who

aght in public schools in New York.
According to the papers, the school in
which I taught a hotbed of juvenile
crime; the tension was at a high pitch
day in and day out. I didn't [eel that
We had juvenile problems, but сусту
school them. I guess the answer to
this is if you're looking for tension,
pu're sure to find it

PLAYBOY: Dr. Alvin F. Poussaint. a black
psychiatrist at Harvard, feels that All in
the Family is deplorable "not only in
terms of how it might be influencing
so because it does
hing at the kind
of bigotry and racism Archie expresses.”
How would you answer that?

O'CONNOR: Well, he must feel personally
in danger. Evidently, the black people
who have come to me don't feel the same
danger as Dr. Poussaint.
PLAYBOY: Just what is the extent of your
contact with black:
O'CONNOR: | meet them in su on
the street. One time, a black guy rigging
а telephone line called to me from 30
feet in the air. He said, “Hey,
ight on, 1. "That's kinda going out
of your w The working people
1 run across endorse the show. So do
a number of blacks in thc medical, den-
tal and |
lor 20 to

on a very close basis.
old pal

them has bee attorney for а long
time. and I don't think he'd lie. He's a
criminal lawyer who comes across people

on every level. and he tells me all thc
blacks he knows love the show.

PLAYBOY: Why?

O'CONNOR: Becau: is рей

portrayed truthfully for the first time on
; 1а 1, and blacks
react favorably to the truth of the por-

wayal. They are also seeing this man
true condition, which is the condi-
tion of a loser. Archie's a loser because

of his basic errors in judgment—his rac-
ism and his bigotry. These t

oppressing the black man, but the black
man sees in Archie the gradual loss of
of the man who has oppressed
st in the last stage of
That fact emerged. very
ly during the show in which his
nsurance is canceled. He's living in a
lirik arca, on the fringe of a black
hborhood, can’t do a damn
thing about it

In the same show, we showed Archie
trying to deal with the problem of which
of three subordinates to fire. There
too many black guys and too many
white guys working at his factory, and
only one Puerto Rican. So he fires the
Puerto Rican and there's mo stati
Ironically, he did this at the same time
his insurance was being canceled: so
he was discriminating unfairly at the
same time he was being discriminated

powc

against unfairly. His powerlessness i
shown in the circumstances that forced
him to make the decision he made. On
the job. white power and black power
dictated that the Puerto Rican be the
victim. Archie couldn't make an inde-
pendent decision, even though the white
worker he spared was useless to him.
Someone who can't make an independ-
ent decision is a powerless guy.

PLAYBOY: According to a New York
Times article by Lama 7. Hobson—the

author of Gentleman's Agreement, a
novel dealing with prejudi

far from powerless. In fact, she thinks his
power to make people look at
lightheartedly is insidious i
izes racism, making it seem less dan
gerous and detestable than it actually is.
O'CONNOR: 1 thought her article was
nonsensical. The pivotal point of her
argument was that we ought to usc
worse epithets than we do on the show
nd thus prevent the character of Archic
from being in any way lovable. What
we've done, and what I've done, is make
Archie not the head of a lynch mob but
a human being who is also a bigot. He
has love in his heart for his wife, for his
daughter, even for the son-in-law he’s
fighting with all the time, He has human

concerns, fears, weaknesses, moments of
affection that make him person
Laura Hobson didn't w. о do that.

She wanted us to make him a onc-
dimensional Jower-cl:
PLAYBOY: How do you а
fact 0 the Tunes r
ed her view by m
O'CONNOR: Well, letter
wrilers supported her four to one. Т
think there were a lot of people who
didn’t write. Negative letters are always
more numerous than positive lette
And, in this case, a lot of them were
written by Jews of the old school, the
kind who Teel that the only way to
ameliorate anti-Semitism or any other
kind of racism is to smother it in silence.
PLAYBOY: Do you receive a lot of hate
mail?

O'CONNOR: Probably no more than any-
body else. The really obnoxious hate
mail is exemplified by letters tha
Struthers, who plays my d
ceived after a show іп which
thrown her s around the black
Mike Evans—who plays Lionel
burst of enthusiasm. One guy wrote in
nd said, you two
niggers lı " Another
guy wrote,
ny wool over

the
lership support-
ly four to one
lets say the

nybody's eyes. We
very insidious,

All in the Family is а

»mmunist show.

But most of the mail I get is reas
ably literate. And 95 percent of it is
fiom people who feel the show has done
something to or for them, One 17-year
old kid wrote and said our show had
amily from permanently break-
‚ He hadn't talked to his father

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69

PLAYBOY

70

in a year, except when his mother forced
him to say good morning and good
evening. One might he was co
through the living room while his f
was watching the show
said. "Hey. sit down and watch this."
Suddenly they were both laughing to-
gether and when the show was over, they
began to discuss it. The kid said, "Hey.
A woman wrote in
to say that her husband was getting off
some bursts of racism at the table one
lLyearo!d daughter,
when he paused in the one-way conver-
jected: “Have you finished,
\ lot of people write that we're
naking them understand their own feel-
ings and their own prejudices.
PLAYBOY: Do you feel that's what you're
accomplishing?
O'CONNOR: Absolutely. If there were
ny doubt in my mind, I wouldn't do
the show. If T felt for one moment that
this show was doing any harm. I'd drop
it like a hot coal. 1 сап make a goddamn
good living without All in the Family.
PLAYBOY: Did you anticipate the amour
of controversy the show would generate
when you agreed to do it?
O'CONNOR: To a certain extent, I did.
I was living in Rome at the time; 1 had
1 apartment there, which I kept at a
igh rent for four months after I re-
turned to the United States, so sure was
I that the American. public would c:
plode in indignation about 1 show
and force CBS to take it off the air. In
my contract, I insisted on round-trip air
transportation [rom Rome for myself and
my family. I just didn't think the Amer
can pcople could stand to listen to a
character who talked about coons and
Hebes and spicks, even though the pub-
lic knows damn well that most people
talk this way in their homes. I thought
they wouldn't want to be reminded of
or that the guilt feelings they would
feel from this would surface and inspire
a protest. I would bet you
money. I was so sure that we were going
to fail Furthermore, the show was al-
ready a two-time loser. ABC had paid
for two previous pilots and buried both
of them. Then—wham—we went to
рег one on CBS and we've been
Imost ever since.
PLAYBOY: And with that success, you've
spawned a number of spin-offs—nota-
bly Sanford and Son and Maude, also
produced by Lear and Yorkin, plus a
haltdozen other, newly controversial
shows, What do you think of them?
O'CONNOR: First of all, I haven't seen
any of them. Fm familiar with Maude,
of couse, because that setup got its start
from one of our episodes. But in general,
Im contemptuous of the phenomenon.
Hollywood's contingent of plagiarists has
dipped into our store of goods to pluck
out a little bit here and there. Га be
surprised if they hadn't. This “creative”

town was started by buttonhole makers,
penny-arcade owners and thieves of zip-
per patents. That mentality still exists.
1 react to those who lift ideas from our
show the same way I react to the dis-
honesty of humankind that has always
existed. It pisses me off, but there's
nothing I can do about it.
PLAYBOY: Isn't it r
поп being the sincerest fc
а kind of backhanded tribute to your
success?
O'CONNOR: Well. 1 suppose so—bu it still
pisses me oll.
PLAYBOY: Were you surprised. aher a
dozen years as а character actor in the
movies, to find yourself a star?
O'CONNOI ankly, yes. It was just a
thing that seemed unattainable, I was
quite content being one ol the highest-
paid supporting actors in
and being well respected in it OT
course, I had other aspirations. I wanted
to write plays, movies, perhaps a novel,
and poetry or song lyrics. I always felt
that as a successful supporting actor, I
could make a very good living and find
the time somehow to do these other
things. I wasn’t looking for stardom at all.
PLAYBOY: Are you glad you found it—or
do you feel over
O'CONNOR: I feel just fine about i
recent years, I've had billing equal to the
star of any picture 1 made: but producers
could have made those pictures without
me. Now there are people who, if I'll
do the picture, can raise the money to
ice it on my name alone. Now th
с not just for work but because 1
n create other work. Wha
dous thing for the ego. The greatest satis-
ictor is to be needed. If
a vacuum-cleaner salesman, you
don't have to become too personally
involved with the product you repre-
sent. If people aren't buying it, you start
selling another one, But an actor isn’t
selling somebody else's product; he's sell-
ing himself, When you're not geuing
work, it's a serious personal reproach.
But there's nothing like the satisfaction
you feel when they're buying what
you've got to sell—and paying а great
deal 1с To be offered a quarter of a
is up front to do a picture,
percentage of the world
gross, is incredible to me.
PLAYBOY: [t has become fashionable
mong the wealthy—even in. Hollywood
—not to flaunt their aflluence quite as
conspicuously as they used to, or at least
to feel guilty about it. How do you feel
bout having all that money?
O'CONNOR: Many years ago. I told
ther Powers, who is a friend of mine in
Rome, “Father, I've fought the fight
against materialism for years, but I'm
afraid I've lost it." "There's no sense in
pretending that I don't enjoy the luxu-
ries. Thoreau said, “Simplicity, simp!
simplicity!" He was tall

away from the acquisition and owner
ship of things that clutter up your life,
lest your soul be no longer open to the
spiritual things the world has to otter.
But I find no difficulty at all in exper

encing soul stimulation and at the same
did

h I

time owning a Masera
until a few months ago.
PLAYBOY: What docs owning a Maserati
do for the sou!
O'CONNOR: There's something uplifting
about owning the bestlooking, best
performing car of its type in the world,
about the way it runs effortlessly up
through the gears to 140 miles an hou
PLAYBOY: Did you often drive it that fast?
O'CONNOR: 1 never had the guts to
take it any faster than 120, but I drove
it over 100 as olten as 1 could. I had
to test whether this high-priced, his
powered machine was all men said it was.
And iı always was. I got the same exhila
ration out of renewing that knowledge
every time I did it.
PLAYBOY: Apart from
rati, has stardom brou
your life style?
O'CONNOR: Well, its cost me а lot—
and not just in money. The highest
price you have to pay for becoming a
celebrity is that you become a fugitive.
Because every place I go I'm recognized
I now consciously find myself ам
looking at people, which is a loss. 1 сант
move without being stopped by people
Tor autographs or conversation. Even at
the better restaurants, people come up
10 my table and just stare at me while
Im eming my scaloppine, And I can't
go to a ball game, or any other kind of
sporting event, or ГШ be forced to sign
autographs for everybody in my section
of the sands. I even get stopped at
supermarket check-out counters. People
take snapshots ol me in the street. One
guy followed me down Westwood Boule
vard the other night, taking pictures v
a movie asses don't
help: they recognize me in the biggest
pair of shades you ever saw. At the De-
ginning, that kind of adulation was a
novelty. Its still enjoyable, but it can get
to be а pain in the ass. Being the ob.
served all the time is unsculiug. 1 can
Imost leel eyes on the back of my neck
PLAYBOY: Do those who approach you in
public greet you as Carroll O'Connor or

Mase-
nges in

ТЕТІ
ht

i

as Arclue Bunker?
O'CONNOR: More than half the time,
they call me Archie—kind of in fun, you

know—but an awful lot of strangers call
me Mr. O'Connor. I don't think most
people mix me up with the character.
couple of actors did, though. They nev
knew me belore, and they thought 1 had
etly like Archie. I look differ
nera, and I certainly sound
different offcamera, but it was inconcei
able to them that I was just playing а
role. I had to be that guy. The public
never had any problem with it

PLAYBOY: You don't think ther

danger that you'll be stereotyped and
stuck with Archie the way S Connery
s been with James Bond?

‘CONNOR: I don't think so. Гус had a
number of movie scripts submitted. to
me that have nothing to do with Archic.
Ive comp'eted а TV musical i
that A

g (e do with
dramatic spe
going to do later in the year, teni
titled H's a Man's World, or Is 10, in
which TIL do three one-act plays, one of
them my own, that 1
with the Archie character

PLAYBOY: Do you and Archie have any-
thing in common as far as life styles are
concerned?

O'CONNOR: Not ich. Archie
both like beer, but he has
coucept of the finer things. Occasionally,
he'll have a still shot of rye or bourbon,
but he has no taste for other. booze, let
alone the kind of wines I drink, For rec-
reation, 1 like to read and travel; Archic's
idea of a perfect ev wou'd be to
take night game at Shea Stadium—
or just sit at home watching pro football
on television.

PLAYBOY: Would he watch All in the
Family?

O'CONNOR: | think so. Maybe he'd get
some laughs out of But he might
recognize himself on the screen and те

as nothin

There's also

sent the reflection
PLAYBOY: What are his tastes in food?

O'CONNOR: Archie is a lover of good,
solid, well-cooked American dishes: steak.
chops, stews. If yon took him into a
h restaurant, though. and surprised
him with some of the French veal dishes
the marvelous way they do potatoes
and other vegetables, 1 think |
But he's never been exposed to it, He
has to get by with the Twinkies Edith
puis in his lunch box. If it were possible
—and we'll have to fantasize about this
for a тотен ГА like to take Archie to
Арени

love it

» osteria wp in the I

es,
а country inn. situated little town
north of Parma where 1 once spent some
time, where everything the owners served
was absolutely fresh, where they hand-cut
the pasta and pressed their own red wine,
Inan sage in a subterranean

П

their own
and die herbs to flavor the ragout
were all available in the garden

We would start the meal with an anti-
pasto of salami, fresh olives Irom the
countryside, fresh onions eaten raw, with
white wine to wash it all down. Then
we would have a dish of spaghetti alla
tarbonam—tha's with egg
ad cheese mixed up in the
ammentionable number ol calories.
Next there would. be veal chops. Now,
that sounds like very plain cooking, but
as the Найапз do it in the country with
those ancient recipes, veal chops can. be
unbelievably beautiful. The ve;
would be fresh zucchini or melanz
which we call eggplant, cooked alla sicil-
inna, with cheese and tomato. Also а

room,

les

ne,

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Gordon’.

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happiness is smoothness. рон
Smooth mixing.
Smooth tasting. VODKA
And smooth going down. —

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PLAYBOY

72

serving of fagiolini—large cold string
beans vinegarand-oil dressing. All
this would be served with homemade
chianti. At the end, there would be some
pungent cheese and then pears stewed in
ip with a mixture of oth:
fruit. and doused with maraschino bran-
dy. Wed also have zuppa inglese, an
i aricty of English trifle—a soft,
creamy sort of thing. And, finally, all
the espresso and brandy we could drin
А meal of this kind once took my wife
and me [rom one o'clock until after five
to consume. And then we went to a
rmhouse belonging to my host and
napped until nine o'clock that night.
Non credo que chÀ'abbimmo mangiato
tutta la questa cosa! “I can't believe 1
е the whole You'll have to
forgive me for І got carried
away. It must be getting close to dinner-
lime. Anyhow, І think Archie would
love that kind of meal—although he
might leave Edith after eating it
PLAYBOY: You and your wife have stayed
together for 91 yems. Why has your
mariage worked while so many other
show-business unions
O'CONNOR: We need cach ост. When
people who are married stop needing
ch other, they begin to discover mu-
tual faults and then find reasons they
shouldn't be living togethe
PLAYBOY: What do you need from each
other?
O'CONNOR: What 1 need from my wile,
and 1 suppose the same goes for her, is
human closeness and warmth, her coun-
sel, her criticism, her spiritual support
for what I do artistically. She's the checl
and balance on me that every human
being needs. She provides the physical
love and spiritual love that we all need.
1 hope she derives the same from me.
PLAYBOY: Why do you think the divorce
we—in and out of Hollywood —is so
high?
O'CONNOR: І don't know. I can ошу
think of friends that have been married.
for a number of years and then split up.
The fella usually "What do I need
this broad for anymore? She's nothing
but headaches.” уре she's giving him
physical love, bur he isn’t geuing any
Or vice versa. So
he begins to balance the debits against
the cred ys. "What do 1 need
her for?" And she does the same, Му
wife and 1 often find cach other wani-
ing. but you see, the need is always
there between the two of us. I guess
we were just a lucky combination, We
shared the same interests, the same
friends from the beginning.
both very much interested
the theater but the whole professi of
entertainment. And we always had a lot
to talk about. These are very important
things—a similarity of interests, а simi-
y of artistic and professional drives,
a sharing of friendships The whole so-

ts and

We were
з not only

dal and professional enclave w
same for her as it for mc.
PLAYBOY: In the course of your г
ship, have you developed any rules of
behavior for yourself to keep things run-
ng smoothly?

O'CONNOR: Only one: I try to control
my temper. I succeed now more than 1
did years ago. My advice to anybody is
to try to get control early on. It's like a
hole in a dike, that temper thing. If you
don't patch it up when it happens, it
gets bigger and bigger and all kinds of
other troubles come flooding in. So you
have to stifle yourself.

PLAYBOY: Can you recall occasion
when you couldn't control your temper:
O'CONNOR: Yes, 1 can. But it didn't
have anything to do with my wile, It
was prompted by the way my career was
going back in 1954 and 1
returned from Ireland, wh
understand why people would ve
me any work. 1 would tell producers
what I had done; they knew the men
Га worked for. ‘They knew all the people
—like James Mason and Geraldine Fitz-
gerall—who had come from the Gate

55, after we
n I couldn't

Theater in Dublin. It was а good седеп
tial to have. But in spite of that, I wasn't
getting any work. | couldn't even get

arrested, I wasn't depressed, though; 1
is hell. I felt that. everybody
s stupid, a bunch of ignoramuses.
How dare they not hire m
While I was looking lor work,
ly on what Nancy made

as a teacher; her take-home pay was
about $325 a month. So with me
the rather advanced age of 30 and mar-
my wife and 1 were

we

obliged to live with my mother in Forest
Hills—in the house where I grew up.
That didn't

do much lor my ego. I
n support the two ol us.
‚ту mother had one kind of
ile and we had another. We wanted
y and our own place. In order to
‚ L had to do something to bring
in some extra loot. Finally, 1 went over
to the board of education in Brooklyn
and took the first exam that came up—
which was for nglish teacher,
though history had been my major in

college. 1 passed th h exam and
got a substituteteacher’s license and
then I started to make about 5325

month, too. So after a while, we had
plenty of money and we got our own
apartment, in. Rockaway, Queens—not
w from the neighborhood where the
Bunkers live. We had a new car and
nice furnishings. We lived very well.
PLAYBOY: Did you like teaching?
O'CONNOR: Well,
taught first at a junior hi
the West Side of Manhattan, then at
Textile High on 17th Street. and finally
at the High School of Performing Arts,
all as a substitute teacher. le was
kind of a tough school, Шоц

it was а challenge. 1

ran into a Blackboard Jungle situation
I had a class of 45 boys from the ages of
14 to 19 who were the most troublesome
in all the other classes at the school.
"The administration's remedy was to take
these misfits out of the other classes and
put them all into one hellhole of a class.
And to whom did they give that assi
ment? То the most inexperienced teacher
in the whole goddamn school—Carroll
O'Connor, who had been kidded about
his girl's name since he was ten.

My task was mainly to keep them in
, because they'd been given up on as
far as Jearning was concerned. At first,
the kids all thought I was a сор who
had been planted in the school to inves-
tigate drug pushing. They questioned
me about it all the
never admit that 1 was or I w
must tell you frankly, I controlled my
class by intimidating them and geting
physical in one or two instances. The
very first I found onc of the boys,
who was a senior, sitting in my chair
with his [eet on the desk. I later learned
that this class had, in the previous term,
whole row of desks on fire and
ihe teacher, keeping the doors

с, but I would
1

set а

who were tying to
n to put ош the fire. This boy,
Who was now sitting desk, had
finally let everybody in to put the fire
out with extinguishers. He was an Ital-
ian kid. There was some competition
between him and а black kid as to who
was the real boss of the class

Anyway, when I саше into the room,
ihe dassroom was utter pandemonium.
A game of tag was going on—using only
the tops of the desks, not the lloor—and
the object was to avoid being tagged.
There was another game going on that
g blackboard erasers at
one another: if you were hit, you were
ош. Chalk was being fired around.
Cards were being played. The most ve-
spectable students were playing black-
k: they were the quiet ones. And the
Talian kid was in my chair with his feet
up on my dex. I got attention by
slamming the door behind me with
such force that 1 was afraid Fd break all
the glass in it. I didn't say anything,
because I just had 4 feeling thai words
wouldn't do at the moment,

They all stopped. and everything got
quiet as they looked me over. My first
move was to walk over to the desk, half
kick and half push the boss kid out of
the chair. I gor him în the as. The
chair went over and he went over, land
ing on the foor. As he started to get up.
mad, I grabbed hold of him and told
him I w

involved throw

ass.

going to punch his teeth

down his throat He said. “Don't!”
"OK," I said, "then get into this scat
here," He sat down. I looked up and

baleful
been

told the rest of them, with
glare that Archie would have

Come to where the flavor is.
Come to Marlboro Country. gas

eoe Marlboro- hs]

[is :19mg* T 71.5m an i d a per cigarette, FIC ReportAug:72

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

PLAYBOY

74

proud of, “AI а yah, siddown!" And
it worked. I've kept a variation of that
look in my repertoire, playing it for hu-
ther than for menace. I use it, in
ight-club act I do four weeks
Reno and Vegas.
t kind of act do you do?
O'CONNOR: Weill. I start with a mono-
log as Archie, and then I sing some soi
of the Thirties from my first album,
Remembering You. That's it; no frills
like tap dancing or chorus girls. 115 sort
of a cross between live theater and after-
dinner speaking.
PLAYBOY: What are some ol the high-
lights of your Archie segment?
O'CONNOR: | do about 25 minutes com-
g about the state of the world,
iar Archie dialect. For my
night-club debut in Tahoe, I did some
stuff thi al then. Li
Wallace is a man to be
you hear he come out de udda day lor
busin’ da black people If the Federal
Government buys the buses aud builds а
bridge from Alabama to West Africa
І also talked about on in Ch
"One a da reasons Nixon wanted diplo-
matic relations ovah dere was so he could
send ovah a lotta people that would do
da country a lotta good far away." 1 also
had jokes about Howard Hughes, Sam
Yorty, Hubert Humphrey and the pill:
che pills. The
e this pill for,

"I don't mean no he:
kinda headache you
you get in a motel."
PLAYBOY: What was the critic reaction
to your night-club debut?

O'CONNOR: h a few exceptions, it
was a smash. And according to the pit
bosses, the high rollers came in 10 sce

however, did have the effrontery to say
that my singing was “slighty off-key" or
that I sounded like I was singing iu the
shower.

PLAYBOY: Have you used
jokes in your act?

койу ethnic
O'CONNOR: No, and caleulatedly so. We
have Archie making ethnic slurs on
the television show, but the barbs are
always answered by members of the f:
ily, usually by the son-in-law, In
ight-club act, there's nobody th
retaliate, so 1 don't do that. Most of the
humor of All in the Family hinges on
Archie getting a lot of static. Sometimes
ters give him racial remarks
vent given somebody else
iib one. Once or
twice it’s happened that there was just
answer into the sc

ve eliminated the barb
PLAYBOY: That’s a form of self-censorship.
Have you had any censorship imposed
on you by the network or the sponsors?
O'CONNOR: It's a curious thing. When
it comes to our show, C s off.
D think car has
been very forceful in his arguments. On
the ng show, he wisely took a

my
2

when the wi

it's because Noi

ор

strong stand. He told the CBS bı
“On this first show, we're saying the
worst we probably will ever зау. If we
get it over with now, we'll have а much
easier time.” There were several cor
tested lines, but they let us use just
about any racial epithet you can think
of. I referred to coous, Hebes, spicks,
Polacks. We even had micks in there
someplace. We somehow got it all said.
We also got some sexy stull over.
PLAYBOY: What was the contested mate-
vial?
O'CONNOR:

One of the things CBS ques-
tioned was when Edith and | came
home from church and we obviou:
interrupted the kids balling upst
There was some kind of suggestion that
we modily that business n
said, “No, that's what they were doing
d it's too vital a part of the plot, and
furthermore, we're going to be geting
into a Jot of this stull as the series goes
on, and we might as well get the audi-
ence used to it" CBS backed down.

PLAYBOY: Didn't it scem absurd to you
that the network would question the
mere implication that a young n
couple was making love offcamera?

O'CONNOR: Indeed it did. Balling is one
of the best things we do in lile, but
let's face it— IV is still tied to а moral

vied

taboo about it. 1 really think all of us
in the industry lag behind the public.

Were afraid the public will object; and
most of the time they don't obj all
They keep fooling us.
PLAYBOY: Have there been any conflicts
among those involved in the show about
what sort of material should be used?
O'CONNOR: Yes, we've had creative dif-
ferences that have been hard to resolve
and we've had friction on the show over
my rejection of a lot of material. Good
ing is very hard to come by, especial-
ly for television. The medium uses writ-
ing voraciously, lil blast furnace

would burn up sawdust. Nobody can
keep up with its demands

The
ordinary kind of mindless situati
edy finds itself short of acceptable ma-
terial, so ion with the
kind of show we became, lifted
into the commodity

most
" co

gine the situ

Now, there
the writt

re many actors who
1 word with a great deal
өс it's part of a
script by the time they see it. The;
more than willing to do whatever is
given to them. I guess I'm perverse. I
regard everything writen that's handed
to me with the utmost suspicion. The
first thing 1 sce is a scripts faults; the
last thing I'm ready to see is its merits.
Well, certain of our story lines I've
felt weren't real, and I've said so. As
everybody connected with the.
knows, a week never passes that I don't

show

ge all sorts of things—and occasion-
ly that causes problems. And one day
had a disagreement that. suddenly
out of proportion. This was
which the black kid, Lionel, h
mother and his uncle came to our house
on Christmas Day to pass the us
pleasantries. Lionel noticed that

we

his
mother was standing under the mistletoe

"Look out. Momn M

devil with anybody standing
mistletoe.” She was then sup-
posed to look at me and smile expect-
andy. | was to look at her in mixed

bewildermen d horror, and walk
away.
1 didn't think this business rang truc.

very hip, smart kid who
knows Archie v well. He would never
put his mother in а position where
Archie might insult her. So we began ar-

a

lled Norman on a Sunday and went

over to his home and told him I felt
very strongly about this, that Ға been
thinking about it for two days and соп

bsolutely right. I said
we ought to change it or cut it. Norm:
asked lor suggestions. Perhaps if Mrs
Jefferson herself. would instigate a joke
that might turn against her, D said. it
might somehow take the curse off. So we
made the change. Monday mori
came in for reli
ance in everybody to go along with the
change. 1 began getting so many argu
ments that 1 finally siid. “This must be
cut or I guess w e à show." It

cluded that 1 w:

brought the whole thing up
suggesting that we ought to con
sider going back to the original

1 don't think he realized how seriously
I was taking the whole thing. At first I
was objecting to something I just
thought was wrong. 1 had objected to
many things like this before and wed
le some adjustment. Sometimes the
saor, John Ri me
out of it: other times we would reach а
compromise; other t thing I didn't
like was cut. But here was a situation
that for some strange reason was getting
beyond my objecting to а minor bit of
business. My ego had become involved.
uddenly, my resentment exploded,
thought: “I'm the star of the
berone show on TV. 1 carry 75
ent of every episode. If I were some
e Jad
ordered out c

gue

ie. Gleasoi
the street

1 сөшійігі
imagine how anybody would set up this

kind of argument with a big star
Jackie or Lucy. Why were they persis
ing in this thing when they knew Car
roll O'Connor didn't want it? 1 called
my agent U ht and said, "Be pre
pared to get me out of this show at the

(concluded on page 205)

4

рр wt

WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY?

A young man sailing through the best years of his life. Constantly seeking the excitingly unusual and
the unusually exciting, he's a man of action who's too busy doing to do much viewing. Fact: PLAYBOY
delivers two-and-one-half times as many adult males as any weekly TV sports show—8,656,000
more men in all. When is this on-the-go group sure to see your message? Whenever you run it in
PLAYBOY. (Sources: 1972 Simmons and Nielsen Television Index, First Report, February 1972.)

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

76

Part one of a new crime novel
By George V. Higgins

THERE WERE THREE KEYS On the
mission hump of the XKE. The
touched the one nearest the gearshift
The fat man, cramped in the passenger
bucket, squinted at it in the moonlight.

e driver said. "Three
no outer d
ou got a problem of b
There's a whole mess of ар
ments back up on the place, and they
got mostly kids in them and them

fucking bastards never go to bed, it

seems like. What сап I tell you, except
e careful.
ok" the fat man said. "I'm

ct
business.

like I was minding my own
This is what you say it is.

іс Qe

tomorrow morning nobody's even gonna
know I was there. Nobody'lll remem-

ir said, "but that’s
st you got to get through
tonight I'd be worrie

tomorrow. Fi
tonight. Its

about, I wa

"FW decide what I'm gonna worry
about,” the fat man said.

"You got gloves?” the driver asked.

“I don't like gloves,” the fat man
said. "In this weather 1 don't

a boslon mic

like the digger
can be rough, but a juice man

might be vougher—especially
over a mailer of eighteen thou
like gloves.

spots me, the hi
loves

it the hell, somebody
t comes, I'm de;
gonna help me.
ke you say you're nobody’
even gonna know I w
til everybody's Бес

s in there umn-
ound handling

ILLUSTRATION BY WARREN LINN

7

PLAYBOY

78

nd so forth."
t T thought,”

things,

the driver
ў d that about you.
The Digger goes in barc-ass.” The driver
pulled a pair of black-vinyl gloves out
of the map pocket on his door. "Wear
these.”

The Digger took the gloves in his

left hand. “Whatever you say, my friend.
It’s your job." He put the gloves in
lap.
No,” the driver said, “I really mean
. You want to go in barcas, you
go in һате-азз. That's all right with me.
But you get to that paper, the actual
paper, you put them gloves on first, and
you keep them on, OK?"

x d help them," the
ny people handling
the stuff and all. I wouldn't think i'd
ke much difference, time they found
out.

Well, take my word for i driver
said, "it does. It really does. Now, I
really mean it, you know? This is for
my protection. Gloves on as soon as you
get to the paper.”

Gloves on.” the Digger sa
You get inside,” the dri
go left down the corridor and it's the
fourth door. The fourth door. "There's
about six doors in there all got
the company name on them, but this is
for the fourth door.” He touched the
second key. "It says "General Manager"
down the bottom. there, so in case
you get screwed up, that’s the one you're
looking for.

Can I use a light” the Digger asked,

Not unless you really have to,” the
driver said. “Near as I can make out,
there's no windows anybody can look in
and see you moving around, but you
never know what'll reflect off something.
I was you, unless I absolutely had to, 1
wouldn't.

"OK." the Digger said, "no light."

“I don't think you're gonna need one
anyway,” the driver said. “We got a
pretty good moon here and all. You
should be able to get along all right."
Fourth door." the Digger said. “Must
be some kind of suspicious outfit, got a
different key for every door and all.
They must be afraid somebody's gonna
come in after hours or something and
steal something."

"Well," the driver s; ^I don't know
that for sure. lt could be, this'll open
any once you get inside. Bur
the offices're separate, you know. They
haven't got any doors between them. So
it's not gonna do you any good, you get
into the third door or something, be-
cause what we want isn't in there. I'm
just trying to save time is all.

The driver touched the third key. It
was smaller than the first two. “ADT,”
he said. "Metal box right behind the
door, just about eye level. The lock's on
the bottom on the right. It's got ће

door,

ellow monitor light, so you won't have
no trouble find anyway. Twenty-
second delay before it rings. Plenty of
time. Oh, sometimes they forget to set it
when they lock up. If the yellow lights
off, don't touch it. You do and you'll
turn it on and then you're gonna have
all kinds of company. I'm pretty sure it's
So you turn it off. T told him, I
t alarm's on. I don't want
nobody coming in Monday and seeing
the alarm's off and looking around.’ He
said he would. But just to be on the safe
side, don't touch it if the light isn't on.

“Do I still go in if it’s off” the Digger
asked.

‘Sur the driver said. “The impor-
tant thing is, get the paper. I'm just
saying, it'd be better if the alarm w:
on when you go in. And you shut it off
and get what we want and then turn it
on again and get out, You got another
twenty seconds when you turn it on. Oh,
and it's a cheapie. No puncher for when
it’s on and off, no signal anywhere it got
turned off. Single stage, it all works off
the key. If it’s on, and you don't turn it
off, it rings. But that's all it does.”
"Chickenshit outfit," the Digger s;
“Well.” the dri id, "its really
st for the typewriters and, you know,
case the junkies come in and start
tearing the place apart. They don't keep
пу real dough there, It's just for in-
truders is all.”

“Trespassers.” the Digger said.

“Yeah,” the driver said, “trespassers.
ng of which, | assume you're not
a shitter or anything.”

“No,” the Di

“You А
don't you?

“Well, Im pretty su
said. “I never done

shitter,

too,

much oL

this,
but when 1 been in someplace, 1 never

did, no.
Well. in case you get the urge," the
“wait ull you get home or
1 had a real good guy that I
always used to use, and he was all right.
He could get in anyplace. You could
send him down the cathedral d he'd
steal the cups at High Mass. But Jesus, I
used him probably six or seven years
and 1 never have the slightest problem
with him, and the next thing T know,
he's into some museum or something
they got out there to Salem, and he's
aft lver, you know? And he shits, he
turned into a shitter, Left himself a big
fuckin’ pile of shit right on the god-
ned Oriental rug. Well, he wasn't
working for me or anyt ad hell,
everybody in the world was gonna know
the next day he was in there, because
the silver was gone. But that was the
end of him as far as I was concerned,
didn’t have no more use for him. The
thing is you don't want nobody to know
you been in there until youre ready,
OK? So no shit on the desks or any-
thing. Keep your pants on,

driver said,

"The stuff we want," the driver sa
“you go over to the file cabinets and
they keep them in the third onc from
the window. The middle drawer, OK?
In the back, behind the ledgers. They
keep the ledgers up to the front, and
then there's the divider therc, and the
booksre behind the divider. There's
three of them. The one they're actually
using’s on top and then there's two
more, the reserve ones.”

You got a key for the cabinet?”
Digger asked

“Usually not locked,” the driver said.
“Tf it’s locked, the key's on the frame of
the door you just came through. Up on
the wood there, over the door. But
probably not gonna be locked. If
locked, unlock it and then when you
through, lock it again and put the key
back. If it's not locked, just open it
and take the stuft and then close it up
in. OK

OK." the Digger said. "You
some iceled checks, I assume.”

"Don't need them," the driver said.

"Somebody might go looking for somc-
thing and then they notice they're gone.
I got a way, I got something I can copy
all ready."
"They don't use a check signer or
ything?" the Di
‘Sometimes they do," the driver said.
ometimes they don't. It's got а meter
on it and they're pretty careful. about
that, anyway. It’s only when the guy's
away they use that, and T guess they
must've had some trouble or something.
because they keep that locked up prett
good and its in another one of them
offices, in a safe. So Fm not gon
bother with trying to get that."

"OK." the Digger said.

аке from the first book," the driver
They're all numbered in sequence
and they're about, they just started. us-
ing the book theyre using now. So
theyre probably gonna, by the end
of the month they'll be gewing down
to where they'd bc using it up. It's a
six-across book. Take the last five pages,
OK?
ОК,” the Digger said.
Don't take no more'n that,” the driv
er said. "You do and they're liable to
spot it the next time they use the book."
From the floor under the driver's seat һе
produced a razor knife. “Take them out
lu along the binder. Don't leave. no
‘eds. Shreds can fall out and get some
body looking. Nice clean cuts. One page
ага time. Don't use where it's perforat
ed. Cut them out right along the binder
OK?

“Don’t take nothing from the other
the driver said. “Тһе petty cash
Us probably got about eighty dol-
ars in it. Leave it be. No stamps, no
currency if there's any, no nothing. Five
pages of checks and that's all, You give

(continued on page 122

the

want

тзе | to the goo:

“When I said help you
in mind wı

as the strudel and rum

nd u

80

алас BY GERMAINE GREER

the internationally known feminist argues that—even without violence—sexual exploitation is rape

NCE IN A HOT COURTROOM in New Zealand, I had occa- m

saying fuck in a public meeting whether she was as dis- ІР
gusted and offended by hearing the word rape used in a similar m
context. She wasn't. 1 asked her why. She thought for a moment and is A FOUR-
said happily, “Because for rape the woman doesn't give her consent.” MW

My liule linguistic inquiry opened a sudden [=] [е]

peephole on the labyrinth of crazy sexual attitudes LE | м ER WORD
that we have inherited from our polyglot traditions

{although it did not prevent my being sentenced to three weeks in jail). The craziness extends into our (mis)under-
standing ol the nature of sexual communication and thereby finds its way back to behavior. Our muddled responses
10 the word rape have their source in the sexual psychosis that afflicts us all, especially the policemen and judges
who аге most vindictive in their attitudes toward those few sexual criminals who have sufficient bad luck or bad
judgment to fall foul of the law.

Otherwise quite humane people entertain the notion that women subconsciously or even consciously desire to
be raped, that rape liberates their basic animality, that, like she-cats, they want to be bloodily subdued and sav-
agely lucked, regardless of cheir desperate struggles and cries, Women are thought to provoke the sexual rage of men
who in turn may need to add blood lust to their sexual desire in order to achieve full potency. Darwin is sometimes
quoted as the ideological ally of the rapist and forcible impregnator—how else but by his marauding activities could
the survival of the fittest be assured?

Yet many women are afraid of rape as of nothing else. Women who have been raped may, as а consequence, be
too terrified to leave their house by day or night or so distressed by male nearness thar they cannot take a job or get
onto а crowded t There may be some truth in the notion that the lonely spinster who is terrified of intruders is
actually longing to be violated, but her subconscious wish is of the same order as the wish of a mother to destroy her
children, which is chiefly expressed in her far es that they may have come to violent harm. The Ї that a father
feels against the man who rapes his daughter might as profitably be construed as jealousy. For all practical purposes
what the spinster experiences is a fascinating terror that may become an obsession. The man who actualizes her
fantasy is in по way gratifying her or benefiting her, except his own overweening estimation. The extent 10
which all men participate in this fantasy of violent largess can be dimly detected in their willingness to laugh at
Lenny Bruce's description of his aunt going into Cenir cach day for her appointment with the flashers or
in the sneering assumption that older women and unattractive women аге disappointed if intruders or invading
soldiers don’t rape them,

Many (men) believe that rape is impossible. The more simple-minded imagine that the vagina cannot be pene-
uated unless the woman consciously or subconsciously accepts the penetration, and so the necessary condition of rape
cannot be fulfilled. The difliculty of getting a Lully erect penis into the vagina is in direct proportion to the difficulty

RLUSTRATION BY JACK MIMS

PLAYBOY

82

of overcoming the woman, either by
physical force or by threat or by drug
ging her or by taking her by surprise

The i pe is impossible may
n invalid extension of the view that
all women subconsciously desire or pro-
хоке rape. It is certainty true that
women do not defend themselves against
rapists with any great efficiency.
though they know that a sharp blow to
the groin will incaps or
high heel smashed into the temple
certain effect. they seldom
of what forms of self-
iccessible to them. The
fault lies nor in their suppressed lechery
or promiscuity but in the induced pa
y that is character!
have conditioned. them
counter groups have developed routines
in which a woman is encouraged to fight
off a would-be rapist. Even strong heavy
women have had to struggle to overcome
the passivity that impeded the rélease of

wen

му

of women as we
Feminist ei

energy iu self-defense: passionate. urg
ing from the other members ol the
was needed before they could

itage of their own strength and
ion.

Without special help. most women
have no idea hoy to defend themselves

«no concept of themselves as people
with a right to resist physical misuse
with violence. They ше like childre
being beaten by their parents and their
teachers. or slaves being brutalized on
the plantation. Their physical strength
remains unexploited because of ihe
pathology of oppression, Women are
poorly motivated to be as aggressive with
their assailants as iheir
with them. and so rape is eaver th
should be. But this cannot
justify the contemptuous attitude ol the
rapist. Women's helplessness is itself
part of the psychosis that makes rape a
national pastime, And even encounter
groups have not yet developed the kind
of psychic energy that em defeat а gun
or a knife or the frenzy of di
The fear of sexual as
ir dis int
likened to the male fear of castration. As

а

be held to

ult is а speci:

best be

wity i

women с

derelict old meu who drooped their pal-
lid tools at my mother and me when we
-bathed in the beach park, but I re-
per an occasion when much less sin-
avior provoked wild terror. А
i simply came. up to me and
offered me a sweet: his kind n
the most hideous thing I had ever seen
Usually 1 invoked my parents’ rage be-
cause T consorted so readily with strat
but this time 1 recoiled from the
зе, speechless with fright. Then I was
nd mnning until my lungs
ning, and 1 fell down and
d in the grass desperate nor to
look up for fear 1 would see that inde-
able smile. Whenever I saw that man

y

ile was

were sc

cower

hanging out in the lane be
ment. looking up my ch skirts as I
went up or down the stairs. 1 was te
fied. When I wied to explain to the
grownups why I loathed that man, I
had no words for it. but 1 knew it was
the greatest fear of all. worse than spi
ders or octopuses or falling olf the roof.
Devoted sadists might a y ter-
ror was simply the terror of my own

ме femaleness, but it

Freud, because | was presumably in my
phallic phase and unaware of my vagina:
and if such a view is not to be justified
by the great apologist of female ma
ochism, it is not to be justified

ow our apart

жие that m

would be

What 1 мау afraid of was таре as El
Чїйдє Cleaver described it. "bloody,
hateful, bitter and malignant" even

though I had no clear idea of what it

entailed.

Sexual intercourse between grown
men and litle girls is automatically

termed rape under most codes of law. It
does nor matter whether the child invites
t or even whether luli;
v of a felony.

nd from

he and he only is gu

From the child's point of view
the common-sense point of view, there is

n enormous difference between inter-
course with a willing Не girl and the

forcible penetration of the small vagina
of a terrified child. One woman 1 know
with an uncle all throu
childhood, and never realized t
ng unusual was toward unti! she
t away to school. What disturbed her

is not what her unde һай done
but the attitude of her teachers and the
school psychiatrist. They assumed that

she must have been traumatized and dis-
gusted and therefore in ned of very spe-
cial help. In order to capitulate to their
expectations, she beg; ke symp-
toms that she did mot until at
length she began to feel truly guilty
been guilty. She ended
тү for this

feel,

up jw

ппате lechery
ті

е crucial element in establishing
iher or mal penetration is
is whether or not the penetration
was consented to, Consent is itself an in-
tangible mental act: the kaw cannot. be
blamed for i that evidence of ab-
sence of consent be virtually conclusive,
хо th an who has not been si
gely beaten or threatened. with imme
diate harm or rendered unconscious has
little chance of legally proving that she
ped. Consent
procedure: it may be heavily condit
or thoroughly muddled, and the 1
not allow itself to be drawn into ethical
conundrums. Most of us do not live ac
cording 10 the bare letier of the law but
according 10 moral criteria of much
grener complexity. Morally, those of us
who have a high opinion of sex cannot
accept the idea that absence of resistance
sanctions all kinds of carnal communica-

rape

а wd

not as

law

;ovather th ely ө

such а negative
must insist that only cvi
ve desire dignifies sexu
ouse and makes it joyful. From a
proud and passionate woman's point of
view, anything less is rape.

The law of rape was not made with
woman's pride or passion in mind. ‘The
is no more and probably even
less the focus of the rape statutes than
the murder viaim is the raison (ёе of
the homicide statutes. The crime of rape
ther considered an offense not
the woman herself but against
the men who made the law, fathers, hus
bands It is а crime against
legitimacy of issue and the correct trans
mision ef | The illegitimate
sexual intercourse constitutes the offense
what the woman who complains must do
js primarily to dissociate herself from
any suspicion of complicity in the out-
rage against her menfolk. This she must
do by making a complaint immediately.
She is regarded as the prosecutrix of the
rapist and he has all the recourse
her accusation that any defendant has
against the state prosecutor, and then
some. Only a girl child escapes the
ordeal, because she is automatically
deemed incapable of consent. An adult
s actually called upon to prove
her own innocence in the course of
rape prosecution, as well as managiug to
establish that the circumstances of ihe
man’s behavior are as she alleges.
man has to be very unlucky to be
convicted of the crime of rape. He has to
be stupid cnough, or drugged or drunk
cnough, to leave a milewide t
blood, bruises, threats, semen, screaming
at have you, and he has to have

criterion,
dence of pos

we

1

T

woman

chosen t d of woman about whom
the e nothing but good to
say enough chutzpah to get

down to the police station at once and
file her complaint. and, if it results in a
L to face down public humiliation,
y evidence about her morals
nd demeanor is admissible. The most

the court will do for her is to rule that
evidence em;
than

hating from a district other
the one she actually lives in is
admissible. Then the jury must feel
confident that no clement of consent
red into the woman's behavior.
Nevertheless, men do go to jail for
rape. mosly black men, nearly all of
them poor, and neither the judges nor
the prosecuting attorneys are hampered
in their dealings by the awareness that
they ше rapists, too, only they have
more sophisticated methods of comput
ion. A «ері
s body by pressing the point of
a knife against her throat: а man who
owns an automobile may stop on a lone
ly road and tell his passenger to come
across or get out and walk, ‘The hostility
of the rapist and the humiliation of
the victim are not necessarily diflerent.
(continued on page 164)

d man forces his way into

fiction EX PAUL THEROUX
they called her jampot, and a session with her could be very sweet—if you lived through it

“WHY THE BLACK SUIT?” Gunstone asked.

"My others are at the cleaner's," I said, even as I was rolling “I've just come from a funeral”
around on my tongue. But that would have made him ask who had died. I had the fluent liar's
sense of foresight. Gunstone was calmed.

Lunch was the Tanglin Club's Friday special, my favorite, seafood buffet. I followed Gun-
stone's lead, taking the same things he did, but I soon found that my plate was overloaded with
oysters and prawns rather than the crab and lobster, which Gunstone had taken in two small
helpings. I put some oysters back and got a frown from the Malay chef.

Gunstone was one of my first clients, a man in his 70s who had come to Singapore when it
was no more than a rubber estate with a few rows of shophouses and godowns. During the war,
he had been captured by the Japanese and put to work on the Siamese Death Railway. He
had told me a story about burying his best friend near the Burmese border and had made it sound
like a testimonial to loyalty. It was my abiding fear that Gunstone’s (continued on page 90)

ILLUSTRATION BY EDWARD GOREY

83

PETE TURNERS TURN-ONS

sensuous, bizarre, wry, provocative—the erotic visions of a premier lensman

AS A RULE, Pete Turner is very much into reality, photographing products and people for advertisements about
zippers, suits, cameras, airlines, detergents, shampoos, cars and motorcycles. Though a good deal of creative
thinking goes into those ad shootings, they don't allow much room for the exploration of one's personal erotic
fantasies. So when we asked this award-winning New York lensman to capture his private daydreams on film, he
enthusiastically accepted the challenge. "The assignment was a great change of pace for me, but don't get the
idea it was all fun and no work," says Turner, tongue wedged only partially in cheek. “I had my problems—
building a special platform for a model's breasts to hang over, designing a leather garter belt, finding 14 vibra-
tors. But the toughest job was lighting a water bed from below so that, in case the bed broke, no one would be
electrocuted.” We don't find any of Turner's finished products shocking, but they struck us as definite turn-ons.

Says Turner: “This picture speaks for itself . . .
Pm a staunch backside man.”

“Cycles . . . shock absorbers . . . saddles . . . and
а gatter-belled lady—tough and provocative.”

“What this really does |
is give a tantalizing
preview of balling on
fur... my idea of
something to do.”

“A sensuous,
Sophisticated woman
lolls znvitingly on the
back seat of a dynamite |
car . . . a favorite

fantasy."

86

“The water bed is a
sex symbol in itself

. . . gelling one thats
silvery and self-
reflecting makes it
that much kinkier.""

B8

“The notion of great-looking legs in sexy
spike-heeled shoes forming a vagina . . . I love it.”

“Even one vibrator provides an

erotic stimulus . .

- 14 are out of sight.”

PLAYBOY

90

DESSERTAT THE EFIVELEEE

engine would stop one day in some hotel
room reserved in my name. And then
Га have explaining to do.

When we'd got to our table, I said, “I
hope I haven't boobed, Mr. Gunstone,
but I've fixed you up at the Belvedere
this afternoon."

He stabbed a prawn, peeled off its
shell and dunked the naked finger of
pink meat into a saucer of chili paste.
“Don't believe we've ever been to the
Belvedere before, have we, Jack?"

“The other places were full,” I said.

"Quite all right,” he said. "But I ate
at the Belvedere last week. It wasn't
much good, you know."

"] know what you mean, Mr. Gun-
stone. That food is perfectly hideous."

“Exactly,” he said. "How's your sal-
mon?”

1 took a forkful, smeared it with
mayonnaise and atc it. “Delicious,” 1
said.

“Mine's awful" he said and pushed
the salmon to the side of his plate.

"Now that you mention it.” I said,
does taste rather——"

“Desiccated,” said Gunstone.

"Exactly." I said. I pushed my salmon
over to the side and covered it with a
lettuce leaf. I was sorry; I liked salmon
the way it tasted out of a can.

"Lobsters pretty dreadful, too," said
Gunstone a moment later.

1 was just emptying a large claw. It
was excellent, and I ate the whole claw
before saying. "Right again, Mr. Cun-
stone. Tastes like they fished it out of
the Muar River.”

"We'll shunt that over, shall we?" said
Gunstone. He moved a lobster tail next
to the discarded salmon.

1 did the same, then, as quickly as 1
could, ate all my crab salad before he
could say it was bad. 1 gnawed a hard
roll and started on the oysters.

“The prawns are a success," he said.

“The oysters are"—1I didn't want to
finish the sentence, but Gunstone was
no help—'sort of limp."

“They're cockles, actually,” said Gun-
stone. “And they're a damned insult.
Steward!” A Malay waiter came over.
“Take this away.”

Demanding that food be sent back to
the kitchen is a special skill. It is done
with panache by people who use that
word. 1 admired people who did it but
could not imitate them.

“Yours, tuan?" asked the waiter.
Yes, take it away," I said sadly.

"Do you want more, tuan?" the waiter
asked Gunstone.

“If I wanted more, would 1 be asking
you to remove that plate?" Gunstone
asked.

‘The waiter slid my lunch away. 1 but-
tered a hard roll and ate it, making

(continued from page 83)

crumbs shower down the front of my
suit.

“That steward,” said Gunstone, shak-
ing his head. “The most intelligent
thing I ever heard him say was, ‘If you
move your lump of ice cream a bit to the
right, tuan, you will find a strawberry.’
God help us.”

1 laughed and brushed my jacket.
till,” I said, “1 wouldn't mind joining
this club."

"You don't want to join this dub,”
said Gunstone.

"I do," I said, and saw myself lying in
the sun, by the pool. and one of those
tanned longlegged women whispering
urgently, Jack, where have you been?
Tve been looking everywhere for you.
It's ай set.

“Why, whatever for?”

“A place to go, I suppose," I said. The
Bandung, where I spent my spare time,
had nothing to boast of except the senti-
ment printed on its matchboxes: THERE'S
ALWAYS SOMEONE YOU KNOW AT THE
BANDUNG!

Gunstone chuckled. “If they сап pro-
тошке your name, you can join.”

“Flowers is pretty easy.”

“I should say so!”

But Fiori isn't, 1 thought. And Fiori
was my name, Flowers an approximation
and a mask.

"Now," said Gunstone, looking at his
watch, "how about dessert?"

Gunstone's joke: It was time to fetch
Djamila.

"The old-timers, I found, tended to
prefer Malays, while the newcomers
went for the Chinese, and the Malays
preferred each other, The Chinese
dients, of whom I had several, liked the
big-boned Australian girls; Germans
were fond of Tamils; and the English
lellers liked anything young but pre-
ferred (һеш girls boyish and their
women mannish. British sailors from
H. M.S. Terror enjoyed fighting each
other in the presence of transvestites
Americans liked clean sporty ones, to
whom they would give nicknames, like
"Skeezix" and "Pussycat" (the English
made an effort to learn the girl's real
name) and would spend a whole after-
noon trying to teach one of my girls how
to swim in a hotel pool, although it was
costing them 515 an hour to do it. Amer-
icans also went in for a lot of hugging in
the taxi, smooching and kidding around
and sort of stumbling down the side-
walk, gripping the girl hard and saying,
“Aw, honey, whoddle Ah do?" Later
they wrote them letters and the girls
pestered me to help them reply.

Djamila—" Jampot,” an American fel-
ler used to call her, and it suited her
—was very reliable and easy to contact.
She was waiting by the Hong Kong and
Shanghai Bank with my trusty suitcase

as we pulled up in the taxi. I hopped
out and opened the door for her, then
got into the front seat and put the suit-
case between my knees. Djamila climbed
in with Gunstone and sat smiling, rock
ing her handbag in her lap.

Smiling is something girls with buck
teeth seldom do with any pleasure;
Djamila showed hers happily, charming
things, very white in her broad mouth.
She had small ears, a narrow moonlit
face, large darting eyes and heavy eye
brows. A slight girl, even skinny, but
having said that, one would have to add
that her breasts were large and full, her
bum high and handsome as a pumpkin.
Her breasts were her virtue, the virtue of
most of my Malay girls; they appeared
to be worn or carried, and, unlike the
Chinese bulbs that disappeared in а
frock fold, these were a pair of substan-
tial jugs something extra that moved
and made a rolling wobble of a Malay
girl's walk. "That was the measure of ac
ceptable size, that bobbing, one a second
later than the other, each responding to
the step of Djamila's small feet. Her bot-
tom moved on the same prompting, but
in a different rhythm, a wonderful agita-
tion in the willowy body, a glorious
heaving to and fro, the breasts nodding
in the black lace of the tight-waisted
blouse, the packedin bum lifting, onc
buttock pumping against the other, creep-
ing around her sarong as she shuffled,
showing her big teeth.

"Jack, you looking very smart," said
Djamila. "New suit and what not. But
why you wear that?"

“I put it on for you, sweetheart," I
said. “This here's Mr. Gunstone, an old
pal of mine."

Djamila shook hi
“Jack got nice friend:

"Where's that little саг of
Jack?" Gunstone asked.

“It packed up,” 1 said. "Being fixed."

“What's the trouble this time?”

“Suspension, 1 think. Front end sort
of shimmies, like Djamila but not as
pretty.”

“It's always the way with those little
French cars. Problems. It's the workman-
ship.”

The taxi pulled in front of the Bel-
vedere. The doorman in a top hat and
tails snatched the door open and let
Gunstone out. 1 handed over the sui
case; it was a good solid Antler, a sober
pebbly gray, filled with copies of the
Straits Times and an R. A. F. first-aid kit,
a useful item—once we had to use the
tourniquet on a Russ seaman, and
the little plasters were always handy for
scratches.

"You should get yoursell a Morris,”
said Gunstone at the reception desk.

1 could not answer right away, because
1 was signing my name on the register
and the clerk was welcoming me with a

(continued on page 206)

hand and said.

yours,

AAA

“On the eleventh day of Christmas, my Godfather sent to
me—eleven paparazzi ashooting, ten Congressmen aleaping,
nine chorus girls adancing, eight governors amilking, seven
Castellammarese aswimming, six actresses alaying, five gold
records, four turkey birds, three French chicks, two orders
Scungilli and a capo di tutti capi in a pear tree.”

91

THE STORY 15 TOLD that a Mill Valley
video-freak commune decided to make
the bread for some new equipment with
a litde advanced, underground, commer-
cial, sellout short subject. So they dressed
a girl їп а nun's habit and installed her
at San Francisco International Airport,
where she was greeted at the gate for the
hip midnight ten-dollar PSA fight from
LA. by a rabbi who began by chastely
kissing her. The hidden video crew filmed
audience response as the rabbi embraced б
her sweetly. He put his hand under her |
habit. They began to struggle. She was
gasping. Her cowl was knocked awry. Also

article By HERBERT GOLD |. muggings may not be any
more fun in san francisco—but it's still a nice
place to idle away the rest of the century

PLAYBOY

his tie. They were both panting and bit-
ing. and his tongue was in her mouth,
darting in and out, as she bent backward
and eventually tumbled to the vinyl-
marble floor, and they rolled around in
an ecstasy of Welcome to San Francisco
(Joseph L. Alioto, Mayor) while the cam-
eras rolled. Tongues, zippers, cowl, pink
folds and crevices undulating.

Well, the people streamed by without
noticing.

Finally, one very straight citizen, may-
be an insurance executive just in from
bit of desert sun, bent over the ecumeni-
cal thumping forms where they lay,
tapped the pseudo nun on the shoulder,
and asked, "Did you come?”

Despite encroachments of smog from
Oakland and high. s from Manhattan,
San Francisco remains a name and place
apart from other American places and
yes but sexually
stic. Another big American me-
tropolis, drilling subways, crowding
highways, yes; but with a certain juice
and languor to its making out and mak-
ing do. The time of the flower children
is over—partly because everyone now
believes in being turned on. The police
joke with the whores, they tease the
transvestites, they laugh along with the
tourists at the parade of Cockettes near
the Palace Theater in North Beach at
midnight on weekends; they don’t beat
them up as much as they do in my
ancestral Cleveland. Hip Sheriff Hon-
gisto introduced a gay minister to serve
the gay community in the county jail
lice, real-estate promoters and bi
thugs are never quite Gilbert and Sul
van characters, or even lovable rogues
from Guys and Dolls, but Veblenian
marginal differentiation shows its power
in San Francisco. So it's a big American
city, true—but not just another big
American city. Many visitors and trans
plants grind their teeth and hate it. It
doesn't solve a fellow's problems. The
Chamber of Commerce Tourist Bureau's
gulls, cable cars, Golden Gate Bridge
and romantic fog tend to zap hometown
kids straight in the liver, prov
stant hepatitis, or at least a jaundiced
gaze. The town is being strip-mined for
movie-of-the-week atmosphere. Disney
discovers crookedest street іп the world.
Ford Times borrows picturesque Tele-
graph Hill The Gray Line ships in
busloads of chiropractors with aching
backs for a dose of female impersonation
cchio's) or here’s-where-the-stars-got-
start (Purple Onion).

San Francisco is not Positano or Aca-
pulco. They are tired, too. But despite
the media overload, despite its being
fed into the great international media
meat grinder and coming out Hilton
Hamburger and Fisherman's Wharf link
sausage, San Francisco remains some-
thing of what people have always

thought about it. The Southern Pacific
Station still looks like a Western depot.
While New York and Paris seem to be
yearning to become larger versions of
Cleveland, and Cleveland is becoming
Detroit, San Francisco remains myste-
riously itself, This may last for our
lifetime.

What is this mysterious "itself" which
Friscoville might remain? It is Halloween
Time Forever. It is International Bo-
hemia Village. It is the American city
to which the freaks can flee without
thinking themselves freaky, and where
the straights can taste of strange without
shivering. Like fine domestic wine, do-
mestic California Strange is a comfort at
San Francisco's open-air table. Much of
the revolution of style originated here,
and is domesticated here, and is civilized
in this permissive, Italianate, salt-fog
port, this white and sparkly city whose
areas of creeping tract and virulent
high-rise only show how much there
remains to lose.

One day an old friend came to town
for the first time. It happened to be the
season of the Chinese New Year, and
the streets were filled with costumes,
dragons, papier-máché, firecrackers and
clanking bands dancing like segmented
metal caterpillars. The day had been
sunny and dry; the parks were filled.
This is a city for strolling, and we
strolled. The Mime Troupe performed
its guerrilla theater, with a medieval
Pope portrayed by beautiful Sandra
Archer. Bobby Shields, the genial white-
face, did his fantastic energy-raising ac-
robatics in Union Square. A timedag
rock band set up in the Panhandle for
an audience of speed freaks who thought.
it was 1967 again.

It happened that night that my friend
had a meal in the New Pisa, one of the
Italian family-style restaurants on upper
Grant, along with a Japanese opera
troupe, which rose after the spumone to
sing Oh! Susanna in Japanese, in order
to show its appreciation for the meal.
Then my friend fell into conversation
with a pretty girl, who described herself
as an actress and sex researcher. They
discussed the theater. They discussed sci.
ence. She said goodbye to the group
she had come with and they went to
La Tosca for a cappuccino, continuing
their gettingtoknow.you duet. Two сар:
puccinos on the leather banks of La
‘Tosca. Little flutterings in the heart and
elsewhere, She took him home with her
that night.

The next day my friend asked me
with a certain incredulity, “Is it always
like this here?”

“Not every day.” I was forced to ad-
mit. "On Tuesday, for example, I drive
my daughter to nursery school. And
Chinese New Year is over soon. Next
month, 1 think.”

But for some who come to San Fran-

cisco, Chinese New Year never ends,
despite the alcoholism and breakdown
rates, the busing and ghetto issues, the
complacent hustle of city hall. It's possi-
ble to treat San Francisco as a continu-
ous costume party, Halloween by the Bay,
and, amazingly enough—the flower-child
spasm was partly about this—some m
age to make of Halloween a way of life.

Here is a birthday party at Sally
Stanford's humorously posh New Ог.
leans-brothel restaurant on the Bay in
Sausalito. The fest cost thousands. A 21-
year-old ex-car parker—call him Lenny
—was honoring his dope lawyer, who
was just turning 30. Oysters flown West,
steaks, girls in various stages of stoned
and groovy silence, pink and chartreuse
sweet liquids; and pilots, lawyers, group-
ies. coaches. rugby buddies and even
а few proud parents of the business-
men. Lenny's mom and dad, glad that
their son the accused dealer could
afford to spend a couple, three thousand
on a little birthday party, walked about
in their Macy's groove clothes and. said
"Yes, Lenny has a good head for bi
ness. Yes, Lenny bought us a little house
in El Cerrito, plus some income proper-
ty in Oakland. Yes, we're Lenny's mom
and pop, man. Right on.”

Lenny was wearing hotpants full
Pan Cake makeup, dark-red Cockette
lipstick and, resting on his skinny arms,
the two girls he was planning to ball
later. Sally Stanford herself, the ancient
madam now playing at crone's career,
beamed over the money she was making
and poured champagne. A satisfying fis
cal popping filled the air under the
chandeliers.

I don't want you to think this ch
orgy, with all the good food and drink
and beautiful girls and men grown rich
and dramatic in the dope trade, was
actually very rowdy and joyous. Е
body was too stoned to do much
social line. But I enjoyed the fish and
meat proteins and a cholesterol dessert.
In the john two chauffeurs were discuss-
ing the virtues of Cessnas and Beech-
crafts of various models in making the
run up the coast from Baja. The Stall
Headquarters of the Dope Air Force, а
combination mercy and М nd gen-
eral teenage rip-off operatio
salito. More planes than most nations
h seats at the UN; the largest private
air force on a war footing since Mike
Nichols gathered his fleet for Catch-
The unzipped pilots, relieving them-
selves of early champagne ballast, didn't
stop their professional mur
because 1 happened to be standing th
alongside. “What if 1 were
asked the crewcut one,

He looked at me 1 said to the
other, “1 think the Nixon radar screen
just made it easier. They're overconfi
dent.” And he shook himself dry and

(continued on page 112)

owls Ө seven super punches to put you on the scoreboard

COMING UP, the season of the Super Bowl, when virtually every eye will be glued
to the tube. (We can't all be as lucky as PLAYBOY artist LeRoy Neiman, an on-the-
spot Super Bowl spectator whose rendering of the color and action begins on page
187.) You'll find the viewing more exciting, and more convivial, if you ask other
football fans to join you. ОГ course, game watching is serious business. You wouldn't
want to be off somewhere mixing a drink just when a punt return goes 45 yards.
Nor would you want to neglect your guests. A flowing punch bowl, combining
hospitality, style and convenience, handles everything neatly. The brew can be pre-
pared ahead of time, and, once set up, it’s just about self-sustaining.

Punch has an undeserved bad name these days, owing to the pallid concoctions
proffered at charity and alumni functions and at those pay-back parties thrown by
young career girls for everyone they've met in the past year. Old-time bowls were
unabashed rousers. One Royal Navy favorite called for 80 casks brandy, 1 cask
wine, 9 casks water, 1/10th cask lime juice, 34 ton sugar—a blast to curl the hair
on a bosun's chest. Either extreme is to be shunned. Think of your punch as a
number of drinks made up in a bowl. Each serving should approximate the potency
and proportions of an individual cocktail. Sweet and (continued on page 210)

drink by emmanuel greenberg

SCULPTURE BY ROBERT VONNEUMANN,

ILLUSTRATION BY ALEX GNIDZIEJKO

article By WILLIAM Е. BUCKLEY, JR... «с... nixon sudde

grabbed the television mike to announce not only that we were ending qur ostracism of Red China but
that he would himself visit China sometime before the following spring, the shock waves were everywhere
palpable; but Mr. Nixon knew enough about his constituencies, voluntary and co-opted, to know that he
might safely proceed from the television studio to a fancy restaurant in Los Angeles, there to cele-
brate his diplomatic triumph in a highly publicized private dinner at which the champagne corks popped
in complacent harmony with the impending public elation. А few precautions were taken, as if by
a master electrician running his eyes over the fuses. I sat viewing Mr. Nixon's television performance
in the relaxedly hushed living room of Governor Ronald Reagan in Sacramento, with my brother Jim.
We were together not only because of ideological consanguinity, or because we are friends, or because we
thought foresightedly to man the same fortress at а moment when President Nixon would say something
we were alerted to believe would be more than his routine denunciation of wage-and-price controls —we
happened to be at Sacramento because carlier that afternoon two of my television sessions had been
taped, one each with the governor and the Senator, wherein we probed the differences between their
iews and mine, when we could discover them. But the coincidence was happy—we could reflect now
together on the meaning of Mr. Nixon's démarche, without pressure.

‘The governor turned off the television after the network commentators began transcribing the de-
lighted stupefaction of the international diplomatic community. There had been no comment in the room,
save one or two of those wolfish whistles one hears when someone on one's side in politics says something
daringly risqué; kinky, even, gauged by the standards of Nixon-straight. The television off, there was
silence in the room for a second, not more—the telephone's ring reached us. The butler appeared. “Dr.
Kissinger,” he said to the governor, who got up from the floor and went to the sequestered alcove where
the telephone lay. He wasn't gone for very long, but even by the time he returned, somehow we knew
that the question Did Richard Nixon say something he shouldn't have said? Did he undertake a course of
action he should not have undertaken? was somehow not up for generic review. Nixon had pierced the

veil, and the defloration was final. Henry Kissinger had, within five minutes of the public announcement,
reached and reassured the most conspicuously conservative governor in che Union that the strategic inten-
tions of the President were in total harmony with the concerns of the conservative community. We sensed,
all of us, the albescent tribute to Mr. Nixon's solid good sense.

The balance of the evening was given over only glancingly to the great catharsis, which not many
months later, by compound interest, would emerge as a Long March jointly undertaken by the United
States of America and the People’s Republic of China. The dissenters were much more than helpless;
they were paralyzed. In a matter of hours the political emotions of the country were permanently re-
arranged. Nixon had done it. Surely Nixon is our bargaining agent, the old anti-Communist community
reasoned. I thought of the mine workers, who on one occasion were surprised when John L. Lewis an-
nounced the agreement he had reached with the operators. The terms appeared dismaying. But it is
casier on such occasions to reason a priori, from faith in the leader. John L. Lewis will not make settle-
ments strategically disadvantageous to his constituency. No more Richard Nixon to his. To be sure,
we lisped out our reservations. Senator Buckley issued his cautionary notes. І broke wind with heavy
philosophical reservations. A fortnight later a few of us met in Manhattan and decided, as a matter of
historical punctilio, to suspend our formal support for President
Richard Nixon. The press. though visibly amused—as if grandfather
Bonaparte had come in from the village to disown the young em-

peror—gave the story attention, faithful to the spastic journalistic im
perative that anything that might conceivably embarrass Richard
Nixon is newsworthy. But that was about it. There was the formal CHINA
gesture by Congr:

man John Ashbrook, who ran primary campaigns
against the President in New Hampshire, Florida and California WITH
But it was much too late. The Zeitgeist was so far ahead of us it had
time to stop and laugh as we pulled our way potvaliantly up the
Spende oliin AÛ aor Wie pred day cine wi gle te NIXON
high in Pcking, the President of the United States toasted the Chairman

2.18 there а road back?

7

PLAYBOY

98

of the People's Republic of China; after
which we disappeared from sight.

PRINCETON, NEW JERSEY, March 10,
1972. One important effect of Presi-
dent Nixon's trip to China [the
Gallup Poll reported today]—and
the period leading up to this his-
toric event—is the far more favor-
able image the U.S. public has of
the Communist Chinese today than
they did in the mid-Sixties. Respond-
ents [to the poll] were asked to se-
lect from a list of 23 favorable and
unfavorable adjectives those which
they feel best describe the Commu-
nist Chinese. The terms “ignorant,”
“warlike,” “sly” and “treacherous”
were named most often in 1966, the
last time the measurement was
taken. Today, however, “hard-work-
ing,” “intelligent,” “artistic,” “рто-
gressive” and “practical” outweigh
апу negative term used to describe
the Chinese.

It was mid-January in New York and
І was lunching with friends, among
them Theodore White, already em-
barked on his industrious monitorship
of a Presidential year. Someone asked
White whether he would succeed in get-
ting a ticket on the coveted flight to
Peking accompanying Nixon. You might
as well have asked the queen whether
she would get a ticket to the coronation.
“If I don't get one,” he said excitedly,
“I might as well give up writing my
book! How can one write a history of
the making of the American President in
1972 and not travel to Peking with Nix-
om" He elaborated, most discreetly, on
the measures he had taken—the strings
he had pulled, the people he was pre-
pared to exalt, or to strangle, according
as they proved helpful, or obstructive—
in transacting his application. His eyes lit
on me suddenly, and the pointed mirth
that makes him such good company fas-
tened on the subtle reticulations of my
own position. You son of a bitch, he said,
if you're on that plane and I'm not, I'll
never speak to you again! That afternoon
I wrote and applied perfunctorily for а
seat. Five weeks later, White and I were
facing each other across the aisle of the
Pan American press jet, en route to
Hawaii, first leg on what we were repeat-
edly reminded was a historical voyage,
a presumption none of us doubted. 1 had
had a call, in Switzerland, from the White
House—did 1 really want to go? . . .
Yes, 1 said, over the transatlantic phone,
1 was most anxious to go. Forty-eight
hours later Ron Ziegler reached me to
say that I was among the chosen. Forty-
eight hours and 20 minutes later, Herbert
Klein called me to say the same thing.

The mood aboard the press plane was
mostly muted, inquisitive in an unobtru-
sive way; languid like the professional

athlete on the eve of protracted exer-
tion. The build-up was subtle, but palpa-
ble. Mr. Nixon paces himself carefull
with an eye on the relevant coordinates:
his health, and television prime time. He
does not believe in arriving anywhere
unrested, uncomposed, or unobserved.
Though he is capable of staying awake
all night, he does not chart his trips so
as to make this likely. It was only on the
fifth night that, experiencing impasse
with Chou En-lai, he stayed up until
dawn, pressing his position—presumably
on how to phrase the vexed question
of Taiwan (he might as well have stayed
in bed). Accordingly, we spent a day
and a half in Hawaii, which we left
at dawn, destination Peking. The Presi-
dent left with us, but to go only as
far as Guam, there to "overnight," as
they put it.

Safely on board, Teddy White was
Buddhahappy, sitting with a pile of
news clips on his tray whence from time
to time he would pluck out an anti-Red
Chinese tidbit and offer it to me play-
fully in return for anything favorable to
the Red Chinese 1 might supply him
from my own pile, gentleman's agree-
ment. Now he beamed. “1 have a
here that says the Red Chinese have
killed thirty-four million people since
they took over Ch What will you
offer me for that?” I foraged among my
material and triumphantly came up with
a clip that said the Red Chinese have re-
duced illiteracy from 80 percent to 20
percent, but White scoffed me down,
like a professional pawnshop broker.
"Hell" he have that one al
ready. Fverybody has that one" I
scrounge about for more pro-Chinese
Communist data, and finally tell him,

jisconsolate, that 1 can't find one more
item to barter for his plum; he smiles
contentedly at his ta
I wonder if he hasn't, however, lost
the war.

We merely refueled at Guam and went
on ploddingly to Shanghai Guam-
Shanghai is only four hours, Guam-
Peking six. But all along we had been
lirected to stop over there, before flying
into Peking, giving 85 out of 85 report-
em the opportunity to wire back the
knowing historical observation that the
purpose of the stopover was indisputa-
bly to wrest from us а jetage facsimile
ol the traditional obeisance of the visit-
ing dignitary who, on his way to an au-
dience with the Emperor in the Middle
Kingdom, was made to pause at the
hem of the imperial gardens to beg
leave to proceed. But it is also a Chinese
tradition that official guests are not made
to stop merely in order to water their
horses. So therefore there was a grandish
meal at the airport, prefiguring the rou-
tine that lay before us—one official
Chinese seated next to every American
nd the round tables; like the other
Chinese we would meet, functional in

English, but not very much more than
that, White, who had left Harv
years earlier to devote himself to
ову, could not suppress his curiosity
about the great ci
he had not seen
(Oaober 10, 1949), went on with
his questions. "What has become of the
old race track?" he asked. "lt—is—a—
people's— park," said his host measured-

"A people's horses’ park?" another
reporter asked solemnly, confident that
the satirical turn the questioning had
taken would go unnoticed (it did). “No,”
said our host, not quite getting it,
sensing the danger, "a people's pa
Walter Cronkite turned to White and
explained matteroffaaly: "They race
people there." That too passed without
difficulty. But White was not to be de-
terred. He gave up finally only when,
on asking “What will we see Shang.
hai" he got back the answer, "A city
of ten million people.” Cronkite, re
sponding to the many toasts that had
been offered to us at four- or five-minute
intervals during the long lunch. rose
gravely, glass in hand, to toast a “most
auspicious beginning.”

Back on the plane, the final leg of the
trip, to Peking. We are boarded ошо
buses, making our very long way to the
Nationalities Hotel, beyond the Great
Square of the People. There is no other
traffic, only bicycles, and the drivers use
their horns as routinely as safari drivers
plying their mosquito swatters, to keep
the road clear of the bluesuited bicy-
dists, half of them wearing white gauze
masks over their mouths, а native pre-
caution against the spreading of germs.
Why doesn't the cold kill the germs? I
wondered. Or why don't the germs kill
the cold. . . . 1 was slipping into fanta-
sy, under the torture of fatigue alter 17
hours’ journey. In the hotel lobby full of
bags and people and confusion we
found we were expected to cat yet
again. I went to the dining room with
Bob Considine, who asked, in the best
manner of W. C. Fields, "Do you have
a bar?” The comrade in charge of the
dining room answered, “Yes. You wa
lange juice? ^ said Considi

"whiskey . . . wheeskee . . . glub glub
he motioned with his hand on an
ary highball glas. "Ah," ihe

functionary smiled, "beeh;" "Take me,"

Considine turned austerely toward me,
"to the nearest war lord." We stumbled
off to our rooms. Large. utilitarian,
mid.Victorian, comfortable, dimly lit.
plenty of hot water, chocolates and hard
candy and fruit on the table, instant serv
ice at the press of a button. 1 do not
know whether Considine rang for a war
lord. I was within seconds sound asleep,
snug in bed in the capital of Red Cl
When you are very tired, and your
bed is warm and your room is silent,

(continued on page 104)

TRIAD

fiction By JOHN CHEEVER

wherein the metaphysics of revenge, flirtation and obesity are ironically delineated

м^“ LITTLETON would, in the
long-gone days of Freudian jar-
gon, have been thought maternal, al-
though she was no more maternal
than you or you. What would have
been meant was a charming softness
in her voice and her manner and
she smelled like a summer's day, or
perhaps it is a summer's day that
smells like such a woman. She was a
regular churchgoer and I always felt
that her devotions were more pro-
found than most, although it is im-
possible to speculate on anything so
intimate. She was on the liturgical
side, hewing to the Book of Common
Prayer and avoiding sermons when-
ever posible. She was not a native,
of course—the last native, along with
the last cow, died 20 years ago—
and I don't remember where she or
her husband came from. He was
bald. They had three children and
lived a scrupulously unexceptional
life until one morning in the fall.

It was after Labor Day, a little windy. Leaves could be seen
falling outside the windows. The family had breakfast in the
kitchen. Marge had baked johnnycake. “Good morning, Mrs.
Littleton,” her husband said, kissing her on the brow and
patting her backside. His voice, his gesture seemed to have
the perfect equilibrium of love. 1 don't know what virulent
critics of the family would say about the scene. Were the
Littletons making for themselves, by contorting their passions
into an acceptable social image, a sort of prison, or did they
chance to be a man and a woman whose pleasure in each
other was tender, robust and invincible? From what I know,
it was an exceptional marriage. Never having been married
myself, I may be unduly susceptible to the element of buffoon-
ery in holy matrimony, but isn't it true that when some couples
celebrate their 10th or 15th anniversary, they seem far from
triumphant? In fact, they seem duped, while dirty Unde Har-
ry, the rake, seems to wear the laurels. But with the Littletons,
one felt that they might live together with intelligence and
ardor—giving and taking until death did them part.

On that particular Saturday morning, Marge's husband
planned to go shopping. After breakfast, he made a list of
what they needed from the hardware store. A gallon of white
acrylic paint, a four-inch brush, picture hooks, a spading fork,
oil for the lawn mower. The children went along with him.
They went, not to the village, which, like so many others, lay
dying, but to a crowded and fairly festive shopping center on
Route 64. He gave the children money for Cokes. When they
returned, the southbound traffic was heavy. It was, as I say,
after Labor Day and many of the cars were towing portable
houses, campers, sailboats, motorboats and trailers. This long
procession of vehicles and domestic portables seemed not the
spectacle of a people returning from their vacations but
rather like a tragic evacuation of some great city or state. A
car carrier, tying to pass an exceptionally bulky mobile home,
crashed into the Littletons and killed them all. I didn't go to
the funeral, but one of our neighbors described it to me. “There
she stood at the edge of the grave. She didn't cry. She looked
very beautiful and serene. She had to watch four coffins, one
after the other, lowered into the ground. Four.”

THE WIDOW

She didn’t go away. People asked
her to dinner, of course, but in such
an intensely domesticated community,
the single are inevitably neglected.
A month or so after the accident, the
local paper announced that the State
Highway Commision would widen
Route 64 from a four-lane to an
eightlane highway. We organized a
committee for the preservation of the
community and raised $10,000 for
legal fees. Marge Littleton was very
active. We had meetings nearly every
week. We met in parish houses, court-
rooms, high schools and houses. In the
beginning, these meetings were very
emotional, Mrs. Pinkham once cried.
She wept. "I've worked sixteen years
on my pink room and now they're
going to tear it down.” She was led out
of the meeting, a truly bereaved мо-
man. We chartered a bus and went to
the state capital. We marched down 64
one rainy Sunday with a motorcycle
exor. 1 don't suppose ме were
more than 30 and we straggled. We carried picket signs. I re-
member Marge. Some people seem born with a gift for
protest and a talent for carrying picket signs, but this was not
Marge. She carried а large sign that said sTOP GASOLINE
ALLEY. She seemed yery embarrassed. When the march dis-
banded, I said goodbye to her on a knoll above the highway. I
remember the level gaze she gave to the lines of trafiic—rather,
1 guess, as the widows of Nantucket must have regarded the sea.

"When we had spent our $10,000 without any results, our
meetings were less and less frequent and very poorly attend-
ed. Only three people, including the speaker, showed up for
the last. The highway was widened, demolishing six houses
and making two uninhabitable, although the owncrs got no
compensation. Several wells were destroyed by the blasting.
After our committee was disbanded, I saw very little of
Marge. Someone told me she had gone abroad. When she
returned, she was followed by a charming young Roman
named Pietro Montani. They were married.

Marge displayed her gifts for married happiness with
Pictro, although he was very unlike her first husband, He was
handsome, witty and substantial—he represented a firm that
manufactured innersoles—but he spoke the worst English I
have ever heard. You could talk with him and drink with
him and laugh with him, but other than this, it was almost
impossible to communicate with him. It didn’t really matter.
Marge seemed very happy and theirs was a pleasant house
to visit. They had been married no more than two months
when Pietro, driving a conyertible down 64, was decapitated
bya crane.

She buried Pietro with the others, but she stayed on in the
house on Twin Rock Road, where one could hear the
battlefield noises of industrial traffic. I think she got a job.
One saw her on the trains. Three weeks after Pietro's death, an
18-wheel, 36-ton truck northbound on Route 64 for reasons
that were never ascertained veered into the southbound lanes,
demolishing two cars and killing their four passengers. The
truck then rammed into a granite abutment there, fell on its
side and caught fire. The police and the fire department were
there at once, but the freight was combustible and the fire

ht that, ехрегіє

эи Enlai, he stay.
essing his position—,
to phrase the vexed
n (he might as well ha
Accordingly, we sper
alf in Hawaii, which
destination Peking. 7
t with us, but to go
juam, there to "over
it.

оп board, Teddy W
зарру. sitting with a

was not extinguished until three in the morning. АШ traffic
on Route 64 was rerouted. The women's auxiliary of the fire
department served coffee.

"Two weeks later, at eight p.m, another 18-wheel truck, with
a load of cement block, went out of control at the same place,
crossed the southbound lanes and felled four full-grown
trees before it collided with the abutment. The impact of the
collision was so violent that two feet of granite was sheared
off the wall There was no fire, but the two drivers were
so badly crushed by the collision that they had to be identified
by their dentalwork.

On November third, at 8:30 P.M., Lieutenant Dominic De-
Sisto reported that a man in working clothes ran into the front
office. He seemed hysterical, drugged or drunk and claimed to
haye been shot. He was, according to Lieutenant DeSisto, so
incoherent that it was some time before he could explain what
had happened, Driving north on 64 at about the same place
where the other trucks had gone out of control, a rifle butlet
smashed the left window of his cab, missed the driver and
smashed the right window. The intended victim was Joe Lang-
ston of Baldwin, South Carolina. The lieutenant examined
the truck and verified the broken windows. He and Langston
drove in a squad car back to where the shot had been fired.
On the right side of the road, there was a little hill of granite
with some soil covering. When the highway had been widened,
the hill had been blasted in two and the knoll on the right
corresponded to the abutment that had killed the other driv-
ers, DeSisto examined the hill. The grass on the knoll was
trampled and there were two cigarette butts on the ground.
Langston was taken to the hospital, suffering from shock. The
hill was put under surveillance for the next month, but the
police force was understaffed and it was a boring beat to sit
alone on the hill from dusk until midnight. As soon as sur-
veillance was stopped, a fourth oyersized truck went out of
control. This time, the truck veered to the right, took down a
dozen trees and drove into a narrow but precipitous valley. The
driver, when the police got to him, was dead. He had been shot.

In December, Marge married a rich widower and moved to
North Salem, where there is only one two-lane highway and
where the sound of traffic is as faint as the roaring of a shell.

E TOOK HIS AISLE SEAT—22C—in

the 707 for Rome. The plane was
not quite full and there was an empty
seat between him and the occupant of
the port seat, This was taken, he was
pleased to see, by an exceptionally
good-looking woman—not young, but
neither was he. She was wearing per-
fume, a dark dress and jewelry and
she seemed to belong to that part of
the world in which he moved most
easily. “Good evening,” he said, set-
ding himself. She didn't reply. She
made a discouraging humming noise
and raised a paperback book to the
front of her face. He looked for the
title, but this she concealed with her
hands, He had met shy women on
planes before—infrequently, but he
had met them. He supposed they were
understandably wary of lushes, mash-
ers and bores. He shook out a copy of
The Manchester Guardian. He had
noticed that conservative newspapers
sometimes inspired confidence in the
shy. If one read the editorials, the
sports page and especially the finan-
cial section, shy strangers would some-
times be ready for a conversation. The
plane took off, the мо SMOKING sign
went dark and he took out a gold
cigarette case and a gold lighter. They
were not flashy, but they were gold
"Do you mind if I smoke?” he asked.

“Why should I?” she asked. She did
not look in his direction,

“Some people do,” he said, lighting
his cigarette. She was nearly as beau-
tiful as she was unfriendly, but why
should she be so cold? They would be
side by side for nine hours and it was
only sensible to count on at least a
little conversation. Did he remind her of somcone she disliked,
someone who had wounded her? He was bathed, shaved, cor-
rectly dressed and accustomed to making friends. Perhaps she
was an unhappy woman who didiked the world; but when the
stewardess came by to take their drink orders, the smile she
gave the young stranger was dazzling and open. This so cheered
him that he smiled himself; but when he saw that he was tres-
passing on a communication that was aimed at someone else,
she turned on him, scowled and went back to her book. The
stewardess brought him a double martini and his companion a
sherry. He supposed that his strong drink might increase her
uncasiness, but he had to take that chance. She went on read-
ing. If he could only find the title of the book, he thought, he
would have a foot in the door. Harold Robbins, Dostoievsky,
Philip Roth, Emily Dickinson—anything would help. "May I
ask what you're reading?" he said politely.

"No," she said.

When the stewardess brought their dinners, he passed her
tray across the empty seat. She did not thank him. He settled

THE PASSENGER

down to eat, to feed, to enjoy this
simple habit. The meal was unusually
bad and he said so. “One can't be too
particular, under the circumstances,”
she said, He thought he heard a trace
of warmth in her voice. “Salt might
help." she said, “but they neglected to
give me any salt. Could I trouble you
for yours?”

"Oh, certainly,” he said. Things
were definitely looking up. He opened
his salt container and in passing it to
her, a little salt spilled on the rug.

"Fm afraid the bad luck will be
yours," she said. This was not said at
all lightly. She salted her cutlet and
ate everything on her tray. Then she
went on reading the book with the
concealed title. She would sooner or
later have to use the toilet, he knew,
and then he could read the title of
the book; but when she did go to the
stern of the plane, she carried the
book with her.

"The screen for the film was low-
ered. Unless a picture was exception-
ally interesting, he never rented sound
equipment. He had found that lip
reading and guesswork gave the pic-
ture an added dimension and, any-
how, the dialog was usually offensively
banal. His neighbor rented equip-
ment and seemed to enjoy herself
heartily. She had a lovely musical
laugh and communicated with the ac-
tors on the screen as she had com-
municated with the stewardess and as
she had refused to communicate with
her neighbor. The characters on the
screen relentlessly pursued their
сірі. There was a parade, a chase,
a reconciliation, an ending. His com-
panion, still carrying her mysterious book, retired to the stern
again and returned, wearing a sort of mobcap, her face heavily
covered with some white unguent. She adjusted her pillow and
blanket and arranged herself for sleep. "Sweet dreams,” he
said, daringly. She sighed.

He never slept on planes. He went back to the galley and
had a whiskey. The stewardess was pretty and talkative
and she told him about her origins, her schedule, her fiancé
and her problems with passengers who suffered from flight fear.

The sun rose as they approached the Alps. Here and there,
the brightness of а spring morning could be seen through
the cracks in the drawn shades; but while they sailed over
Mont Blanc and the Matterhorn, his companion continued to
sleep peacefully.

Beyond the Alps, they began to lose altitude and he saw the
Mediterranean breaking against the shore line and had an-
other whiskey. He saw Elba, Giglio and the yachts in the
harbor at Port'Ercole, where he could see the villas of his
friends, He could remember coming (concluded on page 210)

HE SUBJECT TODAY will be the
Т of obesity and I am
the belly of a man named Lawrence
Farnsworth. I am the body cavity be-
tween his diaphragm and his pelvic
floor and I possess his viscera. I know
you won't believe me, but if you'll
buy a сті de coeur, why not a cri de
ventre? I play as large a part in his
affairs as any other lights and vitals;
and while I can't act independently,
he too is at the mercy of such dis-
parate forces in his environment as
money and starlight. We were born in
the Midwest and he was educated in
Chicago. He was on the track team
(pole vault) and later on the diving
team, two sports that made my exist-
ence dangerous and obscure. I did not.
discover myself until he was in his 40s,
when I was recognized by his doctor
and his tailor. He stubbornly refused
to grant me my rights and continued
for almost a year to wear clothes
that confined me harshly and caused
me much soreness and pain. My
one compensation was that I could
unzip his fly at vill.

Гуе often heard him say that, һау-
ing spent the first half of his life
running around behind an unruly
bowsprit, he scemed damned 10
spend the rest of his life going
around behind a belly that was as
independent and capricious as his
genitals. I have been, of course, in a
position to observe his carnal sport,
but I think I won't describe the thou-
sands—or millions—of performances
in which I have participated. I am,
in spite of my reputation for gross-
ness, truly visionary, and I would like
to look past his gymnastics to their
consequences, which, from what I
hear, are often ecstatic. He seems to
feel that his erotic life is an entry
permit into what is truly beautiful in
the world. Balling in a thunderstorm
—any rain will do—is his idea of a
total relationship. "There have been
complaints I once heard a woman
ask: "Will you never understand that.
there is more to life than sex and
nature worship?" Once, when he ex-
claimed over the beauty of the stars,
his belle amie giggled. My open
knowledge of the world is confined to
the limited incidence of nakedness:
bedrooms, showers, beaches, swim-
ming pools, trysts and sun-bathing in
the Antilles. The rest of my life is
spent in a sort of purdah between
his trousers and his shirts.

Having refused to admit my exist-

ht that, experic
эц Enlai, he say.
ng his position—,.
to phrase the vexed
n (he might as well ha
‘Accordingly, we sper
alf in Hawaii, which
destination Peking. Т
t with us, but to go
^uam, there to “ovem
it

on board, Teddy W
зарру. sitting with a

»
d until three in the mori,
érouted. The women's auxilia
Іі coffee.
| at eight pa, another 18-wheel
lock, went out of control at the
липа lanes and felled four
* with the abutment. "The im|
“hat two feet of granite
бег, but the two di

THE BELLY

ence for a year or more, he finally
had his trousers enlarged from 30 to
34. When I had reached 34 inches
and was striving for 36, his feelings
about my existence became obsessive.
"The clash between what he had been
and wanted to be and what he had
become was serious. When people
poked me with their fingers and
made jokes about his bay window, his
forced laughter could not conceal
his rage. He ceased to judge his
friends on their wit and intelligence
and began to judge them on their
waistbands. Why was X so flat and
why was Z, with a paunch of at least
40 inches, contented with this state
of affairs? When his friends stood,
his eyes dropped swiftly from their
smiles to their middles. We went one
night to Yankee Stadium to see a ball
game. He had begun to enjoy himself.
when he noticed that the right fielder
had a good 36 inches. The other
fielders and the basemen passed, but
the pitcher—an older man—had a
definite bulge and two of the um-
pires—when they took off their
guards—were disgusting. So was the
catcher. When he realized that he
was not watching the ball game—that
because of my influence he was un-
able to watch the ball game—we left
This was at the top of the fourth.
A day or two later, he began what
was to be a year or a year and a
half of hell.

We started with a diet that empha-
sized water and hard-boiled eggs. He
lost ten pounds in a week, but he lost
it all in the wrong places and,
though my existence was imperiled,
I survived. The diet set up some
metabolic disturbance and he gave
it up at his doctors suggestion and
joined a health dub. Three times a
week I was tormented on an electric
bicycle and a rowing machine and
then a masseur would knead me and
strike me loudly and cruelly with the
flat of his hand. Farnsworth then
bought a variety of elastic underpants
or girdles that meant to disguise or
dismiss me and, while they gave me
great pain, they only challenged my
invincibility. When they were re-
moved in the evening, I reinstated
myself amply in the world I so much
love. Soon after this, he bought a
contraption that was guaranteed to
destroy me. This was a pair of gold-
colored plastic shorts that could be
inflated by a hand pump. The acid-
ity of the (concluded on page 212)

ILLUSTRATION BY WILLIAM UTTERBACK

PLAYBOY

TO CHINA WITH NIXON

nothing else matters. Nixon had a point,
though, staying over in Guam. Nixon
always has a point.

They ask you, What did you find in
China

that surprised you? Or—more
‘What did you find in China that
d you most? But one is better off
asking such a question of someone who
has just returned from terra altogether
incognita; from those parts of the Up-
per Amazon (I take it there are still
some) about which we have all learned
from National Geographic that no hu-
man being from the civilized world has
ever uaveled there (interesting ques
tion: What is the “civilized” world?
What does the word nowadays mean?).
Mysterious China, during the period
since Liberation, has not been mys
terious in the National Geographic sense.
There have been travelers to China all
along, even during the convulsions.
Much was seen in China even during the
Cultural Revolution that was not laid
on for foreign visitors to sec. The con-
trol of visitors’ movements, during the
Cultural Revolution, was less thorough
by far than the control after the Cul-
tural Revolution; than the control today,
when by contrast with pre-ping-pong
China, it is considered a country rela-
tively open to discreet inspection by for-
cign journalists. But even during the 20
years largely dosed to Americans, there
were others who went there, others who
reported on China in our own language,
among them some who measured China
by Western values. Clement Attlee led a
delegation of Englishmen there 18 years
ago, one of whom wrote а mordant Іше
book called No Flies in China, urbanely
mocking the only absolutely verifiable
revolutionary achievement in the city of
Shanghai—in fact, the reporter hadn't
seen a single fly. But then possibly he
wouldn't have noticed the absence of flies
if their ab: е hadn't been remarked
to him, and if he hadn't read somewhere
that Shanghai used to be full of flies.

What would have surprised us?—trav-
eling to China a few months after Ross
Terrill of Harvard did, and James Res-
ton of The New York Times, and Wil-
liam Attwood of Newsday, and dozens of
Canadians and Australians and, for that
matter, French and West Germans,
whose reports we had read. “Have you
noticed about the dogs?” one journalist
asked me, four days into the trip. No, 1
id, scratching my head. Were the dogs
class-consciousless, 1 wondered? What
had I missed? . . . “There are no dogs,”
he said. 1 hadn't noticed, but it was true.
True, more exactly, that we hadn't seen
any dogs. Not true, necessarily, that
there weren't any, someplace—it would
not have done for President Nixon to
have presented the Peking 200 with two

104 dogs Another journalist, after three days

(continued from page 98)

in Peking: “Have you noticed about the
grass" Same thing. There was no grass.
I mean, there was no grass. The explana-
tion may be simple. Maybe grass is ex-
uemely hard to grow in the climate
around Peking. On the other hand, grass
grows all right in Maine and їп the
Laurentians, where it is also very cold.
No doubt there is another explanation,
on the order of having to use all the
available earth for food, or perhaps there
is a positive cultural antipathy toward
grass as conspicuous horticultural con-
sumption. But I hadn't in fact noticed it.

What the questioner is really asking,
alter a trip of this nature, is: "What sur-
prised you that surprise the news-
men who have previously reported on
their travels throughout China?” But
even that question generates an answer
only on the assumption of the incompe-
tence or venality of your predecessors.
‘This cannot safely be assumed, mostly
because in conspicuous cases the people
who had been to China were neither in-
competent nor, all of them, beholden to
the Communist myth. Of the ideological
sycophants there were of course a num-
ber, but their writings, though distract-
ing, are disregarded by the practiced
reader as automatically as the lesser stars
by the navigator. One does not examine
the reports on China of a Felix Greene,
except as one is interested in ideological
pathology. It was a problem for years
where Russia was concerned, and al
though it's true that there are people
around who are willing to say gaspingly
about China the same kind of thing the
boys used to say about Stalin's Russia, іп
China, on the whole, observers have
bcen at once more cynical and more
wise. The more cynical—the Wilfred
Burcheus, the Felix Greenes—presuma-
bly know what they are doing but are
willing to do it anyway. Joseph Stalin
had his apologists even after the Moscow
Trials were exposed. The typical jour-
nalis. visiting China is as I say at once
wiser and more jaded, so that on the one
hand he does not automatically accept on
their terms the representations of his
hosts, but on the other hand is world-
weary about applying only standards of
conduct that would have satisfied Wood-
row Wilson, or the Committee for Cul-
tural Freedom.

What would have surprised us? Well,
we'd have been surprised if, say, a politi-
cal prisoner had been tied to a stake
outside our hotel and shot for breakfast.
We'd have written home about that.
We'd have been surprised if, turning a
corner during an unaccompanied walk
through the streets of Shanghai, we had
bumped into a corpse in the middle of
the street, dead of undernourishment, or
boredom. We'd have been surprised if the

secret police (they cali them the Social At
fairs Department—the Maoists are really
wonderful on terminology, though after
a certain amount it cloys, like Franglais)
had come in one night to the hotel and
dragged Barbara Walters off in hand.
cuffs—you could have counted on us to
cause a hell of a good row.

But that kind of thing didn't happen.
So what was it that did surprise us?

Lcaving out the nonexistence of dogs
and grass, and the trivial anomalies that
strike each observer differently —what was
it that surprised all, or nearly all of us?

If you winnowed down the list ruth-
lessly, I think you would have something
very nearly like general agreement on
the following.

It surprised us that the airport greet-
ing given to President Nixon was so
scandalously spare. There were present
at the airport (1) an honor guard of a
couple of hundred soldiers; (2) a diplo-
matic retinue of several dozen Chinese,
led by Chou En-lai; and (3) us. One jour-
nalist, struggling to assimilate the impli-
cations of it, ventured the ingenious
explanation that perhaps the Cultural
Revolution had been so successful, this
was in fact all the Chinese that were left.
Americans are good at absorbing social
shock. Richard Nixon proved superb at it.

‘Ten hours after he landed he went to
the microphone to return the toast of
Chou Enlai, and oh, what a crafty toast
it had been. It drew its strength from
the implicit friendship between the
American and the Chinese people. Alas,
‘Owing to reasons known io all, con-
tacts between the two peoples were sus-
pended for over 20 years.” Chou En-lai
went on to say, in the principal banquet
hall of a capital city in which the Chi-
nese people did not at that moment
know even that the President of the
United States was physically present
in their city (they would learn it the next
morning, when Nixon's picture appeared
in the papers, visiting with Mao Tse-
tung), in a country in which the people
haven't the liherty: to choose what they
want to read, or to write what they want
to write, or to express themselves іп be
half of the kind of society they want to
live in, or to take the job they want or
leave a job they don't want, or to prac-
tice the religion they want to practice or
to leave the city for the counuy or the
country for the city, or to travel to anoth-
ег part of China, or out of China . . . said
Chou in his toast, “Тһе people, and the
people alone, are the motive force in the
making of world history." And he toasted
the health of the President

The surprise came when Richard
Nixon did what he did. He could have
Bot ыр, a genial, wizened smile on his
face, to thank Chou for whatever efforts
he was prepared to make to further the
peoples interests, the world over; to

"These days, you advertise a sextet, you better deliver."

105

PLAYBOY

encourage him to join the United States
in а joint search for peace: to toast
the health of all leaders of the People's
Republic of Chi
the People's Republic of China . . .
have sat down, smiling. Perfectly proper.
Impeccable.

We could not believe it, what he did.
1 mean, there was no one there who was
unsurprised—except, maybe, those who
had projected rigorously how Richard
Nixon characteristically does things: the
imperative fusion of Quaker rectitude,
and political exigency. . . . He began,
under the shadow of that reception at
the airport, by thanking Chou for his
"incomparable hospitality." И Milton
Berle had used those words, under simi-
lar circumstances, the general response
would have been: “Good old Uncle Mil-
tie. That’s the way to treat those snotty
bastards who sent a corporal's guard out
to meet the President of the United
States.” Then Mr. Nixon talked about
bridging the differences between the two
countries. Then, in a breath-taking ges
ture of historical ecumenism, Mr. Nixon
talked about undertaking a “long march
together.” ‘The Long March being Red
China's Bastille, Winter Palace, and
Reichstag fire, the invocation of it by
Richard Nixon as historically inspiring
could have been matched only by Mao
‘Tse-tung's bursting into the hall and
saying that he wanted to be there pass-
ing the ammunition to Richard Nixon
next time America faced the rockets’ red
glare. Then Nixon quoted Mao himself,
in tones appropriate to Scripture. "Then
he toasted not the health of Mao and
Chou but, directly, Mao and Chou.

Nor was that by any means all. Presi-
dent Nixon did not return to his table to
sit down. He returned only to pick up
his small glass of liqueur, armed with
which he strode to the adjoining table,
crowded with Chinese officials, and
paused, effulgently, to toast each one of
them individually, his cheeks flushed
(with grand purpose—Nixon is to ай in-
tents and purposes a teetotaler), and on
to yet another table of Chinese digni-
tarics, to do the same. I commented in а
dispatch cabled that evening that 1
would not have been surprised if Mr.
Nixon had lurched into a toast to Alger
Hiss. My comment was taken amiss here
and there. When I wrote it, I had no
reason to know that the next morning
U. P.I. would report that the widow
Snow had just released the text of a let-
ter received from Richard Nixon during
Edgar's last hours on carth, expressing
hope for his recovery and saying, “It will
strengthen you to know that your dis-
guished career is so widely respected
nd appreciated." Edgar Snow had been
a full-scale Communist apologist, writing
from China, during the Forties and
Fifties, as only a Communist sympathizer

106 could. But there could not have been

y observer of that extraordinary scene
in the Great Hall of the People who
understood the raised Presidential glass
as motivated other than by a рше
transideological desire to touch the soul
of Chinese Maoists, in a way poor Nixon
has never succecded in touching Ameri-
can Democrats. It was an astounding ges
ture, freighted with innocence. But he
would have had a hell of a time explain-
ing it to the Committee on Un-American
Activities.

‘Anyway, that surprised us.

We were surprised the next day when
they took us off to see the ballet, the
Red Detachment of Women. М was а
small hall, and we had our only glimpse
of Chiang Ching, Madame Mao Tse-
tung, whose displeasure over a ballet in
1965 that showed insufficient servility
to the thought of Mao Tsetung had
triggered the Cultural Revolution.
‘There was no chance that the Red
Detachment of Women would uigger
anything among American viewers sur
rounding the President of the United
States other than contempt. tempered
by pity. It was as if the President had
called together the chiefs of the black
republics of Africa to a ballet in the
White House on the theme of Little
Black Sambo. What surprised us was not
so much the hard-drug ideology—we are
a country that absorbs Jane Fonda—as
the curious social effrontery. The Chi-
nese had nothing at all to gain, but un-
mistakably something to lose, from a
concentrated display of agitprop as art
to a conscripted audience of Americans
who sensed the restraints imposed upon
the President by the diplomatic situation;
and worried both that he might visibly
fret under the strain; and that he
wouldn't. (Oh, how much R.N. might
have accomplished, the following night,
in his next public toast, by an urbane
reference to the Red Detachment of
Women. How easy, how effective, how
inspiriting, how just!) There could not
have been anyone in the audience who
didn’t think: Orwell. Rose Macaulay, on
reading 1984, commented late in her life
that she really didn’t understand how
George could have written such a book,
because such a society as he described
was simply unthinkable. I thought of
Rose Macaulay. There was no need for
our hosts to make us think of Rose Ma-
caulay After all, they had taken the
trouble not to shoot dissidents outside
our hotel room. Why should they do it
10 art, a few feet away from us?

And—iemember, the list із as com-
pressed as D can make it—there was
surprise over the affair at Peking Uni-
versity. Every morning we had a choice
of five or six tours to take—typically, а
to an army unit, or a cooperative,
or a hospital, or a museum, that.
thing. It happened that on this morning,
the day after the ballet, the majority of

us signed up for a tour of Peking Uni
versity, the center of learning in pre-
Liberated China, where at about the time
of the Versailles Conference a young
assistant librarian, Mao "Fse-tung, is said
to have steeped himself in
better to compose his visions of a
New China.

So there we were, 30 or 40 of us, on
that hallowed ground, in the cold, cold
rector’s office, wearing our overcoats,
and seated in a great semicircle. A trans
lator was giving us in English the rec-
tor's dreary account of the noble aims of
Peking University under the patronage
of Chairman Mao. The whole mech:
cal business was exasperatingly slow,
sodden harmony with the text. which
was boiler-plate Mao, as revised by the
Cultural Revolution. The reporter next
to me leaned over and whispered, “That
guy'—pointing to the rector—"speaks
perfect English. He sat next to me at the
banquet last night. Hell, he got h
Ph.D. at the University of Chicago in
the Twenties.” It was so, and in quick
order all of us knew it, and it became
evident that he was not speaking in Eng-
lish only because of the Red Guards,
who, it transpired, were still in control
of the university, and who didn't under-
stand English. Two of them, chunky,
unsmiling 20-year-olds, flanked their 76-
year-old rector, cars cocked for ideologi
cal error. He committed none.

Does anybody get dismissed
PKU? was one question.

No, nobody gels dismissed.

Do you ever decide that а student
should return to farm, or work?

We have no such cases.

Do students pick their own specialties?

Their choices are combined with the
needs of the state.

What was it that was wrong with PKU
before the Cultural Revolution?

We were imitating the elitist practices
oj Russia.

What did you do to remedy that
situation?

A Meo Thought Propaganda Team
came in the fall of 1968, stayed a full
year, and then left a revolutionary coun-
cil to run PKU.

What is it that PKU now has that it
didn't have before?

Sufficient class consciousness, and a
proletarian spirit.

‘The rector, tall, thin, gray, wore his au-
thority as naturally as Robert Hutchins,
spoke a little anxiously, and after a
while, sensing that we all knew that he
knew English, began discreetly helping
his translator. Hearing him, a doctor of
science from Chicago, say what he said,
was a deeply saddening experience. 1t
would have helped if he looked like Car-
mine De Sapio, but he looked like H. B.
Warner. A little like Pasternak, who
died more or less trying. The rector at

(continued on page 150)

from

humor By CRAIG VETTER › сок everybody can
get off on a little guile now and then. It even feels good some-
times to stay up all night, smoking cigarettes and fretting
about sin. But there is a limit, and somewhere back in the
sincere years of protest and marching, some chemical-eyed
radical raised the guilty ante by shouting out that if you're
not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. It had
a Ben Franklin ring to it, all right, and from that point on I
was, they told me, guilty for almost everything, which is a
lot, and for a while I believed them.

I marched, I sang nasty little songs about the President, I
demonstrated, I got billy-club status bumps on my head in
Century City and Berkeley, I even wrote to the balding fool
who sits in the Senate for me, But every time I made a good
Christian move on one of my sins, they brought me another:
The air is poison, they said, oil is spilling into the ocean, we've
turned outer space into a garbage truck, Lake Erie is dead, the
blue whale is close to gone (and here my notes begin to fuzz
over with fatigue), our rivers bubble with cyclamates and our
soft drinks are full of phosphates, they raise our cattle on X

rays, corn flakes won't protect you in even a five-mile-an-

hour head-on collision, color-TV radiates deadly hor-
mones and not one American car meets the minimum
daily requirements for vitamins and minerals. I was

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DON AZUMA

appalled, I am appalled, and when I asked who was respon-
sible, they told me to look (if I ever got my hair cut again)
at the infinite series of faces in the barbershop mirror that
was me me me, sitting there, taking a trim while the planet
went to hell.

Finally it vas too much, and not long ago, in a moment of
herd guilt overload and moral breakdown, I decided to stop
feeling guilty for the things I could not change (by cither
prayer or street fighting), and almost immediately the stoop
went out of my walk. OF the 13 or 14 things I was guilty of
last year, all were highly personal and private. 1 swear I was
in a quiet dope stupor with friends, giggling over trifles, when
Lake Erie got it. And that’s not all I'm innocent of. What
follows is a list of things I did absolutely nothing about last
year and over which I feel no guilt.

Boycotts: І bought lettuce, I bought grapes, I probably even
bought goods from South Africa. Every time I shop I exploit
someone. It used to be called bargain-hunting.

Nonbiodegradable, fancy-colored toilet paper: 1 use it on the
theory that it adds a dash of color to the industrial waste.

Bangla Desh: Didn't even buy the album (the song had a
good beat but lousy words).

Vietnam war: I've asked the President to stop it in many
ways over the years and every (concluded on page 236)

tired of carrying the weight of the world around?
pou ve got company

CONFESSIONS
OF A LETTUCE EATER

107

THE SONG GF SONGS
WHICH IS SILVERSTEIN'S

playboy’s ubiquitous shel—now a numero uno іп the music biz—whips up
a whole new batch of ballads definitely not for the bubble-gum set

OUR PEERLESS COMPOSER-CARTOONIST Shel Silverstein tells us he's exhausted these days, and we can understand why:
He's been writing a book on erotic comic strips, working on two animated films and completing a book of children’s
poems (due from Harper & Row soon)—and turning out songs. Herewith we present Shel's latest lyrics, most
of which appear on his just-released Columbia album, Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball, featuring Dr. Hook and the Medicine
Show and employing almost everyone who was in the vicinity of Sausalito at the time. Says Shel: *We had a gas re-
cording, like when this girl violinist auditioned naked, and we managed to get some music out as well. Its a good
album and I want everybody who reads this to go out and buy three copies, because I need an expensive vacation.”

FREAKIN’ AT THE FREAKERS BALL

Come on, baby, grease your lips,

Put on your hat and shake your hips,

And don't forget to bring your ships.

We're goin’ to the Freakers Ball.

Shake your mojo, bang your gong,

Roll up something to take along.

Feels so good that it must be wrong.

Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.
All the fags and the dykes, they boogie’n’ together.
Leather freaks all dressed in leather.
The greatest of the sadists and the masochists, too,
Screamin’ “You hit me" and “I'll hit you.”
FBI dancin’ with the jun
All the straights swingin’ with the funkies.
Cross the floor and up the wall.
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball.

Hard-hats and long- hairs lovin’ each other. STACY BROWN GOT TWO
Brother with sister, son with mother. ڪڪ‎
Smear my body up with butter. Have you heard about Stacy Brown?
Take me to the Freakers Ball. He got every chick in town.
So pass that roach, pour the wine. He got looks and he got class.
ЛІ kiss yours if you'll kiss mine. Do anything to get a little lass.
I'm gonna boogie till | go blind. And everybody shouts at him as he walks his girlies past
Freakin’ at the Freakers Ball. Everybody got one.
Everybody got one.
Everybody got one,

But Stacy Brown got two.
Do you know the reason for his success?
They say that he is double blessed.
They say that Stacy Brown was born
Just a little bit deformed,
But still his girlfriends wake up smilin' every morn.
Everybody got one.
Everybody got one.
Everybody got one,
But Stacy Brown got two.
Why they climbin' up the wall?
Young ones run and old ones crawl.
He got two and that's a fact,
But no one knows where the other one's at—
On his elbow? On his knee? Or underneath his hat?
Everybody got one.
Everybody got one.
Everybody got one,
But Stacy Brown got two.

LIBERATED LADY 1999

She's a liberated lady and she's lookin’ out for herself,
And she don't need your protection and she does not want your help,
And if you're lookin’ for some pretty flower, you better go look somewhere else,
"Cause | warn you she’s a liberated lady.
She got off work at the foundry; she was feelin’ kind of beat.
On the bus she had to stand and let some fella have her seat.
And she pinched the ass of a guy who passed her walkin’ down the street.
When he called a cop she didn't quite understand,
So she stopped off on the corner for her usual shot of rye.
When some guy lit her cigarette, she punched him in the eye.
Then he kicked her in the balls, it was enough to make her cry,
But she stood there and she took it like a man.
She's a liberated lady and she smokes them big cigars.
You're gonna find her drinkin’ boilermakers at the corner bar.
And in 30 seconds flat she'll change a flat tire on your car.
Look out—she's a liberated lady.
She come home to find her darlin’ husband cryin’ in distress.
She said, "Why ain't supper ready and why is this house a mess?"
He said, “Тһе kids have drove me crazy and | need a brand-new dress,
And how come you don't ever take me dancin'?””
She sat down to smoke her pipe and she thought back to the time
When she was satin, silk and lace, with nothing on her mind.
But now she’s gotta mow the lawn and pay the bills on time,
And pray to Mrs. God she don't get drafted.
They got into bed that evenin' and she strapped her dildo on.
She climbed on top of him and said, "OK, let's get it on."
"You know I've got my period and my headache isn't gone."
And he fell asleep—the chauvinistic bastard.
But she's a liberated lady and she smokes them big cigars.
You're gonna find her drinkin’ boilermakers at the corner bar.
And in 30 seconds flat she'll change a flat tire on your car.
Look out—she's a liberated lady.

MASOCHISTIC BABY

Oh, ever since my masochistic baby went and left me,
1 got nothin’ to hit but the wall.

She loved me when | beat her,

But | started actin’ sweeter,

And that was no way to treat her at all.

Yes, she is the one that I'm dreamin’ of,

And you always hurt the one you love,

And ever since my masochistic baby went and left me,
1 got nothin’ to hit but the wall—oh, no—

Nothin’ to beat but the eggs;

Nothin’ to belt but my pants;

Nothin’ to whip but the cream;

Nothin’ to punch but the clock;

Nothin’ to strike but a match.

109

THE MAN WHO GOT NO SIGN

There was Gemini Jim and Scorpio Sal,

They was livin’ by the Golden Gate,

Freezin' their nose and wearin’ leather clothes

And dealin’ every way but straight.

They had a Leo dog and a Capricorn cat

And everything was goin’ fine,

Till into their life on a starless night

Come the man who got no sign.
Look out, Momma, he’s headin’ this way,
One eye yella and the other one gray,
Lookin’ for a soul, but he won't get mine.
He's the man who got no sign.

Well, he walked right in, sat right down,

And rolled himself a righteous smoke.

He lit his roach with a lightnin’ bolt,

And he took a toke and spoke.

Said he was born in an astrological warp,

When the moon refused to shine,

On the cusp of nowhere and nevermore.

He's the man who got no sign.

Then he told the story of an endless search

To find his missing part.

And Sal, she sits and smiles at him

And tries to do his chart.

Till Pisces Ben, who was Jim's best friend,

Said, “Man, you must be blind.

Your chick is lost ‘cause her star is crossed

With the man who got no sign.”

Then late that night two shots rang out

From Jim's old 32.

He caught the stranger and Scorpio Sat

Doin’ what they shouldn't do.

When we got to the shed, there was Jim by the bed,

Where Scorpio Sal lay dyin'.

But a blood-red stain is all that remained

Of the man who got no sign.

The arrest was made by Sheriff Slade,

An Aquarius through and through.

And the jailer was a Sagittarius,

So he beat Jim black and blue.

They dragged him up the courthouse steps.

They said, "Jim, how do you plea?"

He said, “Мап, the moon's in Virgo,

So the blame don't fall on те.”

The jury all was Libras,

So you know they was more than fair.

But his lawyer was an Aries,

And an Aries just don't care.

The judge, he was a Cancer,

And Cancers have no friends.

Ви! the hangman was a Taurus,

And that's where Jim's story ends.

But late at night, when the stars are right

And the moon is gray and dim,

Two ghostly figures roll around

Оп the grave of Gemini Jim.

One is the ghost of Scorpio Sal

As she moans and shrieks and grinds,

In the endless come that she's gettin’ from

110 The man who got no sign.

DON'T GIVE A DOSE TO THE ONE YOU LOVE MOST

Don't give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade; give her some toast.
You can give her the willies or give her the blues,
But the dose that you give her will get back to youse.
1 once had a lady as sweet as a song.
‘She was my darlin’ and she was my dear.
But she had a dose and she passed it along.
Now she's gone, but the dose is still here.
So don't give a dose to the one you love most.
Give her some marmalade; give her some toast.
You can give her a partridge up in a pear tree,
But the dose that you give her might get back to me.
So if you've got an itchin'—if you've got a drip,
Don't sit there wishin’ for it to go "мау.
M there's a thing on the tip of your thing or your lip,
Run down to the clinic today—and say:
Don't give a dose to the one you love most. è
Give her some marmalade; give her some toast.
You can give her the willies or give her the blues,
But the dose that you give her will get back to youse.
(Seriously—the thing has reached epidemic proportions, so if you have
any questions about it, get a checkup or phone 800-523-1885—they'Il be cool about it.)

THUMB-SUCKER SONG

1 met her on a corner in Duluth (that's the truth).
She was tryin' to fix her shoe in a telephone booth (her name was Ruth).
She said she was just waiting for a bus,
But | hid my thumb, ‘cause | knew just what she was.
And 1 ain't gonna let no thumb-sucker suck my thumb.
ІНІ drive you crazy and leave you deaf and dumb.
It'll make you crawl and climb the wall.
Leave you without no thumb at all.
So | ain't gonna let no thumb-sucker suck my thumb.
V'Il tell you what them thumb-suckers like to do:
They suck your thumb till it's wrinkled like a prune.
They'll say you've got the sweetest thumb of all,
But then they suck the thumb of the guy livin’ down the hall.
That's why І ain't gonna let no thumb-sucker suck my thumb.
ІІ drive you crazy and leave you deaf and dumb.
It'll make you crawl and climb the wall.
Leave you without no thumb at ail.
So | ain't gonna let no thumb-sucker suck ту thumb.

THE PERFECT WAVE

Dave McGunn was a surfin' bum, half-crazed by the blazin' sun.
From Waikiki to the Bering Sea, he rode 'em one by one.
Now he hung offshore "bout a mile or more, out where the dolphins played,
And his wild eyes gleamed as he schemed and dreamed
To ride the perfect wave.
Oh, ride the perfect wave, Dave, ride the perfect wave.
If you wait it out and you don’t sell out, you may ride
The perfect wave.
He crouched in the spray and he waited all day till the sun gave way to the moon,
And his legs grew cold and he grew old and wrinkled like a prune.
And the years rolled by and the surf broke high and the 40-foot breakers sprayed.
But he sneered at ‘em all, sayin’, "Too damn small; I’m waitin’
For the perfect wave.”

He was sleepin’ on his board when he woke to a roar as thunder shook the sea.
"Twas the dreaded California quake of 1973.

And he stared at the reef in disbelief, then paddled with tremblin’ hands
As a monstrous crashin’ tidal wave came roarin' ‘cross the land.

It was 12 miles high and it filled the sky, the color of boilin' blood.
And cities fell beneath its swell and mountains turned to mud.

Its deadly surf engulfed the earth and left not a thing alive,

And high on the tip with a smile on his lip was Davey hangin’ five.
He hit the top of the Golden Gate at a thousand miles an hour,
Over the top of the Empire State and the tip of the Eiffel Tower,
And as he wiped out, you could hear him shout, as he plunged to a watery grave,
“Hey hi dee hi, I'm glad to die—I've rode

The perfect маме."

1 GOT STONED AND І MISSED IT

1 was settin’ in my basement; I'd just rolled myself a taste of
Somethin’ green and gold and glorious to get me through the day,
When my friend yells through my transom, “Grab your coat and get your hat, son.
There's a nut down on the corner givin' dollar bills away."
But | sat around a bit, and then І had another hit,
And then I rolled myself a bomber and I thought about my momma.
Then | sat around, fooled around, played around awhile and then
| got stoned and | missed it, | got stoned and I missed it,
| got stoned—and it rolled right by.
| got stoned and | missed it, | got stoned and I missed it,
| got stoned, oh me, oh my.
It took seven months of urgin’ just to get that local virgin,
With the sweet face, up to my place—to fool around a bit.
And next day she woke up rosy—and she cuddled up so cozy,
But when she asked me how I'd liked it, it hurt me to admit
| was stoned and І missed Й, | was stoned and | missed it,
| was stoned—and it rolled right by.
1 was stoned and | missed it, | was stoned and | missed it,
| was stoned, oh me, oh my.

1 ain't makin’ no excuses for the many things | uses
Just to brighten my relationships and sweeten up my day.
And when my earthly race is over, and they lay me ‘neath the clover,
And they ask me how my life has been—l guess 1’ll have to say
| was stoned and | missed it, | was stoned and І missed it,
| was stoned—and it rolled right by.
RVO ENCEPT -MASOCHISTIC BABY (BY SHEU SILVER: | was stoned and | missed it, | was stoned and I missed it,
MUSIC! CA REN NOR N YOUED ET PERMISSION | was stoned, oh me, oh my.

PLAYBOY

112 ance bewe

NIRVANA BY THE BAY (continued from page ө)

free. 24. a veteran of Vietnam, cool as
Kool-Aid.
On the way out, a desperate group of
tourists from a nearby table clutched my
arm. They were ready to weep with
frustration and desire. They watched
100 freaks gobbling up caviar, French
wines, steaks, oysters, cool, so cool, and
these Latter-day Saint tourists from Salt
Lake City felt that 1, perhaps the eldest
member of that crowd, was their last
hope for salvation short of the return of
bearded Joseph Smith. “Who are those
people?" “опе hissed, his fundamentalist
talons scrabbling against my corduroy
jacket.
“The strike committee from Pacific
said. and they nodded.
ys knew San Francisco

No picturesque weirdness means that
San Francisco escapes being ап Ameri-
can city, with all the problems of an
American city, while it also has some of
the provincial, exempted charm of other
hilly and provincial port cities, such as
Leningrad. Marseilles, Naples and Ha
which live freed from the responsibil
ities of capitals—Moscow, Paris, Rome,
Jerusalem—and therefore preserve some-
thing traditional, highly colored by the
sea and less hectic. Once, thanks to the
gold rush, San Francisco had an
hour in the sun. This year, Mainland
China Trade Stores opened with soft
commer smiles in the wake of the
President Nixon China spectacular, and
perhaps San Francisco could have an-
Other gold rush if shipping and trade
really begin to shuttle between the old
opium states and the West Coast.
Whether or not the town becomes Ven-
ice again. a window to elsewhere. it still
shares certain household frets with all
other American centers—race, poverty,
welfare, slums, freeways, school systems,
smog, the resentments of middle Amer-
ica, the rage of deprived America, the
flight of money from the central city. It
is not exempt from the Seventies.

The problems that San Francisco
shares with almost any other great
American city can be summarized, alas,
n its dogged, traditional city-hall poli-
tics and its burden of mayor. Mayor
Joseph L. Alioto is an old-fashioned
Jersey City-style chieftain, formerly an
able, overhungry lawyer. now coyly giv-
ing out to hagiol
Dante every nigh
before tucking himself into bed
Despite the squall and screech of Tar-
tini. however. it's Abandon Hope. All Ye
Who Enter Here for those who seek his
aid for a limitation on high-rise massifi-
cation and destruction of the city, He
continually talks about “striking a bal-
economics and aesthetics."

Economics means the real-estate powers
behind him; with the word aesthetics, he
means to tar all those who long for
clean air, viable streets and ecological
balance, neighborhood feeling, realist
tax rolls, in addition to the precarious
human balance and elegance of San
Francisco, with a brush that somehow
means to say they are mincing nonfidu-
ciary faggots. At one time he had ambi
tions to rise to national eminence—
Vice-President? even President?—but a
series of sourings, induding civil and
Federal suits for fraud involving his
several-million-dollar fee in a complicat-
ed util case, now have confined him
to such provincial politicking as intro-
ducing Humbert Н. Humphrey to his
favored real-estate fat cats. He visibly
chafes under tasks too small for him—
Dante, the violin and San Francisco—
and is doing his best to remold the city
into Manhattan, that eerie, luminous suc-
cess that seems to be his archaic ideal.
He'll go for governor of Califor
when his legal troubles subside.

But Mayor Alioto, Jersey Cityman,
Homunculus Tammany, somehow fits
the old boss tradition without really
representing what San Francisco has be-
come. The traditional formulation of a
man, a real man, a bounding savage
armed with the leg bone of an antelope,
doesn't seem to fit the local model. Here
he is armed with pen, brush, guitar, or
merely his pink and busy tongue. De-
spite all the money, power, shipping,
unions, major corporations, despite the
fact that it really is Mayor Alioto's
American dream, it’s still a consumer's
casy garden city, a terrarium іп Amer-
ica. But gardens, as everyone knows, are
filled with worms and other beasties
The green hides violence. red in tooth
and claw.

The barker at The Condor in North
Beach looks like the star of a TV pilot
called The Young Dentists—on speed.
He's skinny, sharpfeatured and very
fast, and he suggests slurping eroticism
while doing busywork with his teeth. He
paces back and forth with methamphet
amine rancor, chanting, "Come on іп,
organic sex! Sex is the best aphrodisiac!

Come on in, all topless and bottomless
college coeds!" He doesn't specify the
school.

The Jesus people on the sidewalk
outside The Condor are no longer
shooting, sniffing or smoking: they've
found Jesus, or at least Pat Boone. They
have long hair. Their complexions look
up at their scalps reproachfully, sa
Shampoo a little. One of them is selling
Jesus Now, with a headline: "Mosi
FINDS CHRIST, LEARNS LOVE." “It's free, it's
pers a girl in a granny dress.
She is thrusting the paper into hands
that promptly litter.

А long-haired young man with squ:
wire glasses. like a lobotomized Harvard
kid, is crying out with fixed Teutonic
smile: “Abstain from filth!" Mean
while, he too is handing out leaflets that
fall to the street from the nerveless
fingers of tourists
"Aw, knock it off,” says the
Young Dentist.
not you
"Knock off this abomination!” cries
the ambassador from Jesusin-San-Rafa
“Here, read the truth as we learned
The battle between the drag’em-off-
the-street barker at the topless bar and
the Jesus freaks. "Be saved by Jee-2uz!”
"Get some sex! It's organic!"
christ will save youl”
‘or Christ's sake, get the fuck out of

ng
'm working this door

here.

"We'll do what we can for you. Jesus
loves you!”

"Tell you what you can do for me,
go across the street and let Jesus love
Coke's Bar.”

It was a countdown between the
shorthaired busincssman selling sex and
the long-haired freaky Christians selling
salvation. Some leather-jacketed allies of
The Condor gathered about the barker
to consider extreme unction; that is,
kicks rear, shoves over curb. But in
the typical distortion brought about by
the media, the fact of my standing there,
gaping like a journalist, changed history.
They said, “Aw, fuck," and went
to drink and enjoy bottomless dancing,
not living up to their promise. The
Jesus freaks eventually climbed inio a
blue VW bus and drove back to their
commune in the Haight, where they get
high on Christ and brown rice. They
mix the traditions.

A few weeks later they were busted
for housing runaways

Heroin is still sold in all the adjacent
doorways.

When I packed my wagon and hit the
trail from New York in 1960, 1 had
plans to spend a year in Friscoville,
where there had been happy times on a
it in 1957—Allen Ginsberg, the Co-
Existence Bagel Shop, Mad Alex the
Talker, Bob Kaufman the poet (Notes
Found at the Tomb of the Unknown
Draft Dodger), my brother beatniks get-
g beaten about the head by Offer
Bigarani on upper Grant. By the time I
came to stay, the beat movement was
frazzled away by a combination of media
ging times and natural
ars were being traded in for
washerdryers, wine for grass and the
long somnolence that would suddenly
erupt in 1966-1967 (flower. ch
Haight-Ashbury, "We are the ch
of the Beats") needed a certain. incuba
tion period. Still. doorways and chess
bars were filled with patient dissemblers.

(continued on page 154)

en

article BY TOM FITZPATRICK

AND SO IT GOES

northern ireland’s six counties—a land of
internment, rubber bullets, fire bombs, gun fights
and murder—more than one reporter could bear

THE axı is on ity way. In a few hours the Aer Lingus
flight will be taking off from Belfast, heading for Shannon
and then Chicago. This is the fourth time in less than a
year I'll be saying goodbye to Northern Ireland. Only this
time it's different. This time I'm determined not to come
back. 1 like too many people here. I don’t want to see
them get hurt. I've written enough obituaries already.

The situation continues to grow more absurd, more
brutal, more hopeless. I keep thinking of a line from the
movie Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid. Katharine
Ross had dodged around Bolivia on horseback with Paul
Newman and Robert Redford, helping them stick up
banks, watching people get shot down. Earlier, she had
warned Newman and Redford that she would leave be-
fore the end. "I don't want to watch them kill you,” she
said and they understood, Once you heard Katharine
Ross say she was going home, you knew that the movie
was over except for the final shoot-out.

Well, that's the way I feel now as I sit here in the
Europa hotel, waiting for Leslie Dunne, the hall porter,
to call and tell me the cab has arrived. It's all over but
the final shoot-out. I don't want to see the blood bath.

Is strange. Now that I'm leaving, it isn't the big crowd
scenes I'll carry with me. I found them difficult to visual-
ize even hours after they'd occurred. There are shouts,
curses and screams. There are dull explosions of the
Webley & Scott pistols that fire bone-breaking rubber
bullets at 110 miles an hour; popping sounds from CS-
gas-canister launchers; the dull thud of exploding nail
bombs. The images blur. Of all che crowd scenes, I recall
two almost trivial incidents:

A riot in the Creggan district of Londonderry that
lasted seven hours. I am standing against the wall of
St. Mary's Church, watching the British soldiers who are
pinned down behind their plastic riot shields by а bar-
rage of rocks hurled by a mob of hundreds. À boy, no
more than 12, scurries past ше, bent over to keep out
of the line of vision of the soldicrs, who are separated
from us by a low brick wall. He carries a milk bottle with
a long wick in his left hand. It is half filled with gasoline.
He hurls it at the soldiers, using both hands with the
sweeping motion of a hammer thrower. The fire bomb
explodes in the midst of the soldicrs, setting two of them

afire momentarily. The crowd (continued on page 116) 113

ILLUSTRATION BY JEAN HELMER

14

|| was Gorgeous George who almost
singlehandedly transformed pro-
fessional wrestling from a sport

to a spectacle; who ushered
television out of the electronics
laboratory and into the living

zoom. . .. No one who has grown up in
the unremitting hothouse glare of the
commercial tube will ever be able to im-
agine how brilliantly those first feeble
sparks of video-at-home illuminated the
Spirit of postwar America. Yet even then,
when a simple test pattern was miracle
enough to command our rapt attention,
Gorgeous George was Special: A pio-
neer in scarlet tights and golden ring-
lets, he pranced and preened his шау
across the barren plains of the American
consciousness, breaking the hard ground
from which has since sprouted such
unlikely and exotic fruit as Liberace,
Little Richard, Muhammad Ali and

Monti Rock III.
—FROM THE PUBLISHER'S PREFACE ТО
GORGEOUS GEORGE'S AUTOBIOGRAPHY

The television camera's red eye winks
on. A wheezy Wurlitzer belches the open-
ing bars of Pomp and Circumstance into
the freshly perfumed air, and Gorgeous
George, splendidly arrayed in a robe of
rich orchid brocade, dark-puce tights and
fawn buskins, begins his triumphal
mince down the aisle.

Ignoring the thunderous tide of boos
and catcalls crashing around him (“Неу,
faggot, where's yer pockabook?"; “Thay,
thweetheartl"), the flaming Fauntleroy
of the grappling game swishes toward
the ring, the rippling muscles of his
stout, beer-hall Adonis physique radiat-
ing that disquieting amalgam of brute
strength and finicky prissiness that has
earned him the nickname “The Iron
Doily." Once again, the fabled halo of
marcelled ringlets shimmers golden in
the spotlight. Once again, the nation’s
boldest experiment in psychotherapy is
about to unfold.

‘The story of George Raymond Wag-
ner, M. D, is one of the most unusual
—and ultimately tragic—in the history
of psychiatry. Just how did this highly
sophisticated New York psychoanalyst
transform himself into that outrageous
killer/fruitcake Gorgeous George? What
qualities of intellect could have led
George Wagner, M.D., to trade his
dinicians gown [or an embroidered
wrester's cape?

Unlike most doctors Wagner had
come to the practice of psychiatry by way
of dry cleaning. His internship behind
him, the fledgling physician decided to
try the family’s failing dry-cleaning firm
before electing a medical specialty.

“I loved the smell of the fluid and the
entire dry-cleaning ethos,” he wrote lat-
cr, "particularly the opportunity to pro-
vide courteous, same-day service. The
only real problem was in withstanding
the emotional pressure. A customer
would bring in a lovely Parisian gown

with a huge champagne stain across the
bodice and I'd go completely to pieces.
As it turned out, 1 was overidentifying
with the garments a common dry-
cleaner's syndrome." He decided to spe-
dialize in psychiatry.

At Bellevue, where he went for train-
ing the young Dr. Wagner became
known for his extraordinary zeal. Dr.
Reece Tatum, a fellow resident at Belle-
vue, has written that Wagner “seemed to
have difficulty moderating his abundant
enthusiasm for work. It took us months
to accustom ourselves to the idea that
the bloodcurdling screams that so often
emanated from his service were not the
nightmare terrors of the psychotic pa-
tients but merely Dr. Wagner expressing
his glee over some bit of insight that
either he or one of them had just
achieved.”

Clearly, Wagner was already beginning
to work on the frontiers—some said the
lunatic fringe—of conventional psychi-
atry. If so, he was not alone; for the late

Е
-9

Cono, By RICHARD SMITH

some litile-known facts about a тап of many talents—
noted psychiatrist, champion wrestler and certified fruitcake

Forties and early Fifties were years of
enormous ferment in the mental-health
arena. The spirit of the time is best
illustrated by this passage, astonishingly
close to coherence, from a popular con:
temporary work, Dr. Frank Slaughter's
Medicine for Moderns (1947):

The domain of psychotherapy
outside of classical psychoanalysis is
very broad; so broad, in fact, that
we are only beginning to realize its
possibilities through various forms
of emotional catharsis.

And what. Dr. Wagner postulated, if
the ancient chariot of dramatic cathar-
sis could be (continued on page 252)

PAINTING BY ED PASCHKE

PLAYBOY

AND so IT GOES (continued from page 113)

stops throwing rocks to roar its approval
and to taunt the two nowterrified.
soldiers.

Another riot at thc Unity Flats, a
Catholic enclave on the edge of the Prot
1 Road area in Belfast. It
ternoon and the Protes-
e marching past the flats on the
me from a football match. The
ig and the rock throwing go on
until dark. This happens every Saturday
in Belfast and the television crews are al-
s there, waiting for what might turn
out to be the climactic riot of the season.
This time, a middle-aged woman with a
florid. hate-filled face stands on the
street corner in the midst of the mob,
shouting at the residents of the Unity
Flats. She is screeching at the top of
her lungs

“Oh, we'll fuch the Fenian bastards.
We'll fuck the Fenian bastards. . . ."

A major of the British grenadiers,
dressed in battle jacket and plaid dress
ants, walks through the crowd and
stops in front of the woman. He places
his walking stick right on her shoulder
to assure he will get her full attention.
See here, madam,” the major says, “this
is all going to be very low key here
today. АП very low key. Do you
understand?"

No crowd scenes. But I do remember
the faces. So many of them. Now every
time a name pops into my mind, a face
comes with it, as though it were a pass
port photo sitting in front of me.

1 see Jim McCrea's. weather-
beaten face looking out at me from under
his tweed cap. He is about 50 years old
and his tall, spare figure is topped by a
full head of gray hair that sprouts from
under his cap. McCrea makes his living
digging graves in the Milltown Cemetery,
Belfast's burial ground for the LR. A
He is Catholic, but he expresses no great
partisanship about the troubles, He
prides himself on being good at his job.

We were standing near an open grave
McGrea had just finished digging lor
Топу Henderson, a 20-year-old 1. R. A.
man who had been killed a few days pre-
viously by a gun blast in the head.
"What do you think of it all?" I asked.

McCrea acted as though he didn't un-
derstand the question. But he answered
another that he apparently wanted me
to ask. “When we cover him over,”
McCrea said, "his body will be about
five feet down. That's pretty good, when
you consider there are three І. К. A. men
already down there under him.

“Twenty-one years, I've been working
here. It’s not so bad. There's no great su-
pervision. I make eighteen pounds а

nig week and the ground's good. There's

places you could work where the
ground’s like heavy clay. Sticks to your
shovel. This is almost like sand. But
maybe that's because we open it up
so much."

1 lost sight of McCrea during the fu-
neral. There were more than 1000
L R. A. supporters gathered around the
grave and the final words were said by a
fat man in a black-leather coat named
Malachy McNally. He looked and sound-
ed amazingly like Jackie Gleason would
Gleason had a Northern Irish accent.
"We do not grudge, O Lord, that the
flower of our youth has been placed here
in the last eighteen months,” McNally
intoned. "The tragedy is that а man
must be prepared in this day and age to
lay down his life in the cause of Irish
freedom. As the great Terence Мас
Swiney said: "It is not those who can
the most but those who con en-
dure the most who will win. ”

There were a few seconds of silence as
McCrea and three assistants moved for-
ward and began shoveling dirt over
‘Then McNally concluded the
Farewell, comrade,” he said, the

McNally. He was one of the first people

lifted by the British when internment
was declared on August 9, 1971. He has
been held in a cage at the Long Kesh
prison outside Belfast ever since. McCrea
still digs graves at Milltown. I have seen

im at many funerals since that day. He
always gives me a formal nod when he
sees me, as if the two of us share a
deep secret.

1 remember asking McGrea on the day
of the Henderson funeral just how long
it would take to chisel Hendersor's
name into the L R. А. monument above
the graves “Little more than two
hours,” he said. The other day. I noticed
that the man who engraves the names
was 25 behind.

FH remember Jim McCann and his
brother Brendan, too. The morning
after the police captured Jim trying to
fire-bomb Queen's University in Belfast,
Brendan came to tell me about it. 7
need about filty pounds,” he said, “for
little odds and ends to take to James
up in the Crumlin Road Jail and for
money to hirc a lawyer." He settled for
ien pounds. Four hours later, he was

on the phone. He was in a pub around
the corner and he was in deep trouble,
he said.

When I arrived, Brendan was sitting
at a table. He was leaning forward, with
head cupped in his two pully hands.
Fm such a lonely man," he said.
“There's my old brother James. He's the

tower of strength, and he's sittin’ up in
the Crumlin Road Jail. And what am
1 doin? All I'm doin’ for him is sittin’
here nursing this awful head of mine. 115
the drink, you know. It’s the drink that‘
got me feeling this way. If only my head
would stop pounding.

A darkhaired young woman came
through the door of the pub, headed
toward Brendan with a determined step.
Attached to each of her hands was a
smali child, a boy on one hand and a
girl on the other. “Brendan,” she said
coldly, "Brendan, youre litle better
than a cri al. What did you do with
the money?

Brendan looked up. He gave the girl
a helpless look, spreading his hands
in front of him. "Deirdre" he began,
as God is my judge, 1 didn't take
hy money that wasn't mine. And all I
did with it, anyway, was buy fruit and
newspapers to take 10 James and your
brother Peter up in the. Cruml

"Brendan, you're twenty-nine years
old. You're a ied man with four
children and you haven't been home 10
your wife in two days. You haven't been
home since you came to my house and
talked my mother into giving you that
ten pounds you promised you'd take up
10 the jail to give to the boys lor fags
and things they need."

“Deirdre, love, let's not go on like this
about things you don't understand. 1
went up to the jail and 1 took with
me all the newspapers and magazines a
man could find. I took fruit and 1 even
took three bottles of lime juice laced
with vodka.”

Brendan shrugged his thick shoulders
and threw up his hands. "Wouldn't you
know those guards would suspect some-
thing from the likes of a McCann? They
wouldn't let me leave the lime juice. 5
what could 1 do but drink it myself?
Deirdre, you understand these things.
don't you, love?”

Deirdre sat there across from Bren-
dan, glaring, The waitress came to
the table. Brendan's face brightened
“There's a good girl" he said to the
tress. "Bring Deirdre a vodka and
peppermint. ГЇЇ have another Guinness,
100. I do believe my head is beginning
to feel a little better.”

Brendan finally went to the jail the
next day and got straightened out with
his brother Jim. I went along with
him. Jim McCann's face appeared des-
perate. “They'll h: me to hold
me in this place. “L promise
you now. I'm gett

Two months later, he did escape from
the Crumlin. Someone smuggled a file to
him and he
the window of his cell. He made his way
to the outer wall, climbed it
face to lace with a British sentry. Incredi
bly, the sentry thought Jim was part of

(continued on page 191)

BLUE-CHIP
FASHION
FUTURES

from playboy’s exclusive
international collection:
creative menswear by the
world’s top designers

the Grand Ballroom
Plaza Hotel was once
again center stage for the opening night
of Playboy's annual Creative Menswear
International Designer Collection —a
gala fashion show that was to go on
tour of the States and Europe—presided
over by our own Fashion Director,
Robert L. Green. Although the evening
has traditionally been a black-tie affair,
this year's invitations read “Dress Beau
tiful," and (text concluded on page 206)

ABOVE: The Gatsbyesque combination of a
wool check jacket, cashmere V-neck, buttan-
down shirt, polko-dat pocket square and check
tie worn with flannel slacks, wing tips and a
straw hat is a look that could only hove been
put together by the great Bill Blass.

PRODUCED BY WALTER HOLMES / PHOTOGRAPHED BY ALBERTD RIZZO

/ 7» iig i) т.

LEFT; The hell-bent-for-leather noeds.
of the serious motoreyclist inspired
Hermés of Paris to create this super-
soft duotone calfskin jump suit thot
features industrial zip closures at

front and cuffs, worn with matching
gauntlets, fiberglass helmet with visor
опа o pair of thick-soled lace-up boots.
RIGHT: Rome's Bruno Piattelli takes his
fashion cue from that most traditional
of fabrici—-tweed—and comes up

with a tweed-trimmed knit cardigan,
worn with matching tweed slacks

and o wool turtleneck.

”

RIGHT: А rising young Manhattan designer,

Tom Fallon, demonstrates a flair for Г —À
Та

coat lined in red corduroy and worn over

a cashmere pullover, polka-dot
scarf and pleated satin slacks.
OPPOSITE PAGE: Another
New Yorker, John Puntar, -
who's affiliated with Ben Kahn furs,

has applied his talent 10 the classic

toggle coat and offered us a dyed

Toscana Sponish lambskin model

thot features a self-fur lining,

worn atap a black-woal turtle-

neck and a pair of jeans.

PLAYBOY

122

digger's ZaAME Continued from page 78)

them all to me. I want thirty checks and
I dont want no moren thirty checks

к," the Digger said.
“The guy 1 got,” the driver said, "it's
gonna be important for him the checks
went out sometime this month, because
he's on vacation and he'll be able to
prove where he was all the time. We get
checks from one of the other books, they
start со in, he's not gonna be pro-
tected. OK?
“OK,” the Digger said. “How'd you
meer him, anyway?"
Tt was a business thing," the driver
said. "He needed some money and this
friend of his sent him around to see me.

"Jesus" the Digger said, “1 don't
know where the hell youd be without
us guys pressed for dough. You'd proba-
bly have to go out and work for a
living."

"Some guys.” the driver said, start
the Jaguar, "some guys need more'n
they have, some guys have more'n they
need. Its just a matter of getting us
together, Dig, that's all it
ing of changing sides,” the
Digger said. "If I get through this with-
out doing time, I'm definitely go

recommend it" the driver said.
it's lots more comfortable. Still, it
shouldn't take you more’n an hour, and
"re fifteen hundred bucks ahead of
here you were when you closed up
ight.”
Yeah," the Digger said, "one and a
half down, sixteen and a half to go.
Someday, my friend, I'm gonna get
smart, and when I do, well, I just hope
you can find another guy is all.”
“Digger,” the driver said as the fat
man began to get out, “as long as they
keep making women and horses, there'll
always be a guy to find. ГЇЇ see you in
the morning."

look tired. Dig." Harrington
said. "You look like you been up all
night or something.” Harrington. was
foreman at Boston Edison. He worked
on Saturdays as à supervisor. He took
the Dort Ave. bus home every night; he
got off a block away from the intersec-
tion of Gallivan Boulevard. The Bright
Red was on that corner and he stopped
couple of cold ones. Week
nights he drank his beer and read the
Record, Saturdays were quiet and he read
the Record at work, his feet on the des
and a cardboard container of collee
growing cold beside the portable radio.
Saturday nights he talked.

“I was" the Digger said. “You'd think
a guy as old as I an'd learn sometime,
you can't stay up all night "thout feeling
like hell the next day. Not me, I never
learn."

in lor

“You out drinking or something?"
Harrington asked.

"Nah," the Digger said, "I was down
to the Market, I see this guy. I had
something to do, I just didn't get

around to going home is all. 1 guess I
roll in about four. What the fuck, it's
Saturday. It’s not like it's the middle of
the week, you hadda come in here and
bust your as, everybody gets out of
work the same time. I can handle

“See, I was wondering," Harrington
said. "You look like that, 1 see you
looking like that, I was wondering, may-
be you got that problem agai

“Martinis,” the Digger said. “No, I
didn't have that. That's a funny thing,
you know? I think, I haven't had tha
kind of problem since the frst time 1
was talking to you. Which was a pretty
long time, 1 think. No, that much I
learn, I don't drink no more of that
stuff, that fuckin’ gin. That stuff kill
you, 1 know that much. No, it was
something else."

"Broads," Harrington said, "You're а
stupid shit, Dig, I always told you that.
You're a stupid shit, fool around with
the broads. That's dumb. 1 maybe grew
up in Saint Columbkille’s, I maybe
don't know my ass from third base, I'm
out here, the chocolate factory, 1 still
know enough, I don't fool around with
no broads. I know that much, at least.
You're a dumb shit, staying out all
fool around with broads. It don't
ip you got to know that. The
thc monkey, a cunt is a cunt.
Why you wasting your time? Oughta go
home and slee]

hole. You stayed up till four in the
morning because you wanted to. You're

a fuckin’ asshole. I thought you had
more sense. You're too old for staying
out like that. No wonder you look like
death warmed over. You ей ош be-
cause you wanted to. You're an

"I had a reason,” the Digger said.
“Sure you did,” Harrington said. “You
wanted to get laid was your reason.
You didn't get laid. You're an asshole.”

"Look," the Digger said, "I went to
ga» the other week.”

“So 1 hear," Harrington said. “All the
high rollers going out to Vegas. ‘Look,
you dumb shit.” they say to me. ‘you
can't lose. Up front you pay a grand
and they give you eight-twenty back in
the chips and the plane ride and the
hotel and everything. Broads. You never
see the broads like you see the broads in
Vegas. Got to fight them off.’ So I say:
‘OK. L believe you. How come I gotta
tell them the name every bank I ever
had an account, huh? It’s probably, they
want to make sure, I'm a nice fellow,

don't want to give the money
somebody doesn't need it or something

probably it’ Oh, no, thar's not it
Its just to be sure, you know? They
don't no deadbeats ОК, that's

what
idbeat
ht,

g I'm gonna w
difference does it make, I'm a dı
or not? No difference at all. So all
I'm not going. They ask me that, the
bank accounts, I think they think I'm
not gonna win. They think I'm gonna
lose is what they think. Now, they been
at it a lot longern 1 have. 1 think 1 bet
with the smart money this time. 1 think
I'm gonna lose, too, and 1 can't afford to
lose. So I'm not going.

"Well" Harrington said, "I dunno if
you was around or not, but I take many
kinds of shit. The wife won't let me; I
don't have no balls; when am 1 gonna
get smart: all the rest of it. Then every-
body goes, and it gets quiet. Beautiful. 1
actually enjoy coming in here, three or
four days, although 1 think, them mil-
lionaires get back from Vegas, I'm go
па have to go down the parish hall,
drink tea with the guild, I expect any
peace and quiet

“Then everybody comes back,” Har
rington said. "Funny thing, 1 don't hear
nothing. Nothing about broads, 1 don
see anybody with the big roll, noth
I start to wonder, what is i? Girls
wouldn't do it? Nah, can’t be that. All
you guys talk nice, use the deodorant
there. Steaks tough? Frank Sinatra goes
there and the steaks'te tough? Can't be

you guys're over the Bulge, some of you
were in Korea, every single one of you
s the Medal of Honor, at least in
here. Beats me. 1 just can't understand
it. See, І know you guys didn't lose no
money. You're all too smart for that.
You all told me so, a lot. So I finally
decide, you're being пісе to me. I'm
Mickey the Dunce and you're all being
nice. Out pricing the Cads with all the
dough you won, you're just not telling
me because you don't want me to feel
bad. You guys, you're saints, you know
. Dig? Saints. 1 said that to my

you know," the Digger said,
ipal trouble is, you got

"My wife claims that" Harrington
said. "She also says 1 hang around the
wrong type of guys and it gets me in
trouble, it won't be her fault. She says a
lot of things. But then I say: "Look, did
І go to Vegas and win a million dollars?
Not me. I'm too smart for that. Nobody
fakes old Harrington into wi
million, no sir’ That shuts her up.
"She thinks I'm one of the bad guys,”

the Digger said.
She does,” Harrington said, "she has
said that. But she don't say it no more. 1
said: ‘Look, you like the sterco all right.
You give me а lot of stuff and all, but
(continued on роде H6)

tongue-in-cheek remembrances of sundry newsmakers who—in word or deed —made the headlines in ^72

THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS

humor By JUDITH WAX

The Nielsen charts were dimming
Cute Dickie Cavett's star,

But then the network brass stepped in
And brought him up to Paar.

Our Henry's a hit in Pehing or Paree;
He's tops in D. C. or L. A.

The nation's awaiting his how-to-do book:

“The Sensuous Statesman,” by K.

Father Phil was brought to trial,
Then back in stir they clamped him.
It seemed severe for smuggled mail.
(Perhaps he hadn't stamped 'em.)

When Winnipeg signed Bobby,
The Black Hawks lost their king.
They moaned, “Quick! Alka-Seltzer!
We hate the Hull-H thing!”

“Drunk driver Tom,” wrote Anderson.
The proof? Well, there was none.

The guilty guy, it seems, was Jack,

Of reckless hit and run.

Can a pol turn TV star?

So they asked of Cleveland's Stokes.
New York newsman Carl says, “Sure!
Dif rent Stokes for алет folks.”

Those guys who needled Martha’s rump
Were terribly unkind.

The rules say Martha gives, поі gels,

A pain in the behind.

Willie Mays became a Met;

New Yorkers, they yelled, “Say hey!”
San Francisco wanted him

But not his Giant pay-hey.

Dick threw Liz a birthday blast;
Her new rock weighs a ton.

It proves the women's mags are right:
Forty can be fun!

While George and Richard did their best,
It wasn't quite enough.
Burt Reynolds got the ladies’ vote
For posing in the buff.

ILLUSTRATION БҮ WILLIAM UTTERBACK

Feisty Miss Fonda went over to 'Nam,
Where critical things she did say
Capitol Hill then bravely resolved
To take Janie's Oscar away.

Egypt's Sadat had the Russians get out
His language was measured and stately,
Saying, to wit, Oh you once gave a dam,
But what have you done for us lately?

Bill Proxmire got himself a "lift"
And grafted falling hairs in place.
We hope in time he won't be just
Another pretty Senate face.

Ms. Chisholm sought high office,

The Presidential prize.

They turned her off when Shirley said,
“I don't wash windows, guys.”

A great new act was born last year,
And no doubt William Morris

Will sign those stars of Chess-capades:
Bobby-boy and Boris.

Some call Alice Cooper strange;
We cannot think what for.
Alice is as average as

The boy-girLit next door.

“The Godfather"—who'd get the role?
We never doubted whom they'd choose.
“Don” Brando obviously made

An offer they could not refuse.

Tiny's missus wished to work;
It sorely strained the match.
Tim believes a woman's place
Is in the tulip patch.

Miss Hollander wrote, "Happiness?
A hooker can achieve it!”

Poor thing—she loved America

So much they made her leave it.

When Clifford Irving pitched his book,
He hadn't meant to brag.

He simply thought that Van Pallandt
Was Howard Hughes in drag.

miss january teaches modeling, lobbies,
writes insurance, maintains a growing
menagerie—and turns down beauty titles

пкт GARCIA isn’t the kind of girl you meet every day.
Oh, she's the usual melting-pot mixture (English,
Irish, French and Spanish, in her case) and she likes
the usual things (popcorn, Tom Jones, All in the
Family). But how many women—or men—you know
could sustain Miki's frenetic pace? Besides working
at two jobs—as a Sacramento model and an insurance
underwriter—25-year-old Miki is an amateur lobbyist
for homeless animals, civic fund raiser, volunteer
instructor for a class of Mexican-American teenaged
girls who want to break into the modeling field, assist-
ant director of an annual beauty pageant and owner
of three hens, three cats. four pigeons, a rooster and a
pair of rabbits. Miki is so busy, in fact, that after win-
ing a dozen contest titles, she turned down the 13th
d biggest, that of Miss California World—not
because she's superstitious but because it would have
conflicted with other commitments, foremost of which
was her date to be a Playmate. Miki grew up as an

GATEFOLD PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARID CASILLI

Keeping vp with Miki is a full-time job. She moy be appeal-
ing to the Rotary Club for beauty-contest sponsors (above),
enrolling students in her modeling class for Mexican-

Americon teenagers at the Sacramento Concilio center (top
right) or maintaining the outstanding Garcia swimming form

At near right, Miki buttonholes a legisla-
tar friend, state assemblyman Walter
Karobian, to enlist his support for Pets
& Pals, Inc., a local humane soci

ty; ot
for right, time out far a fast hot dog.

Air Force brat, living in ten cities in
four countries before settling in the
Sacramento area іп 1908. Her Spanish
surname, in a locale of lingering anti-
chicano bias, caused her some minor
problems at first. “Now that I'm bet-
ter known in town, 1 do what I can to
combat prejudice,” she says. “Before
the Miss California-Bikini contest, of
which I'm assistant director, 1 combed
the countryside making speeches at
council and civic meetings,
signing up Indian, Mexican and black
contestants. I was sick of all-white
beauty contests." This month, Miki
and pageant director Jane Pope, a
local PR consultant, plan to inter
ionalize their bikini competition

intert

h a contest in Hong Kong.
other new side line is the Mik
swimsuit, designed by Miki and cro-
cheted as a fund-raising project by
women from a predominantly black
Baptist church. What makes Miki
run? "I'm not really an activist," she
says. “I just want to help people.
But this pace is be 10 get to
me. Like last night: One of my hens
refused to sit, and 1 was up till all
hours hatching eggs under an electric
blanket, then feeding chicks with an
eye droppa. l'm a wreck." We disagree.

Getting ready for the Miss Colifornia-Bikini pageant, which was o highlight of the California Exposition and State Fair in September,
mistress of ceremonies Miki dresses (above left) ond coaches a Mexican-American contestant, Yolanda Weeks [above right]. Below,
Баск at the suburban home she shares with her pets, Miki relaxes at last—and catches up on family news with her brother, Kent.

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

The husband was perusing a detailed sex man-
ual and his wife asked why. He replied that he
was ured of being in the same old rut. “But I
don't understand.” she protested

"Well," said the husband, "let me put it to
you another way. . .."

We understand that the ecumenical movement
has reached a milestone with agreement on
the text of the first Jewish-Catholic prayer—
one that begins, "Oy vay, Maria.

Im writing a letter home; explained the GI
to the chaplain, "and I'm stuck on something.
is there a hyphen in hard o
Son,” gasped the clergyman
you telling your folks in that letter

“Just this, sir," answered the soldier. “I'm
tdling Mom and Dad we're finally able to
attend services in your field chapel—the one
we all worked so hard on."

whatever are

We've been told that acupuncture fees in
China are so modest that they're referred to as
pin moncy.

The pro quarterback. was petitioning the court
to have his recent marriage annulled, "On
what grounds?” questioned the judge.
Vonvirginity." replied the quarterback
“When I married her, I thought I was getting
a tight end, but instead I found I've роце
wide receiver.”

My timing is terrible," commented опе park-
bencher to another.

“What do you mean, Georg

Now that the sexual revolution ha:

I seem to have run out of ammunition.

arrived,

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines Chinese
Casanova as a Don Whong.

Three girls had been arrested for streetwalking
and arraigned in night court. When the judge
demanded an explanation from the first. she
said that she was a nightclub hatcheck girl
who had simply been walking home, When he
questioned the second young thing, she
him the same answer. Turning to the third,
he said, "And I suppose you're a hat-check
girl, too."

"No, your Honor,
prostitute."

Amused by her frankness, the jud
"Really? How's business these nights?"

Lousy,” the pro retorted, "with all these
hav-check girls around,”

she confessed.

The Scottish sergeant major walked into a
Glasgow drugstore and took a beat-up condom
out of his kilt. “How much, mon,” he asked
the proprietor, “would it cost to fix this?”

"Let's see.” murmured the druggist. "I could
aunder and disinfect it, heat-weld the holes
d tears and insert a new clastic in the top.
That would cost you two shillings, the same
the price of a new one.” The sergeant major
said that he would think it over.

He returned the next d

“Ye've convinced us, mon," he announced.
“The rrregiment has decided то rrreplace."

A frank female rebel named Glutz
Disdained any ifs, ands or buts;

When they asked what she'd need

То be totally freed
Of her hang-up, her answer was “Nuts!”

Howls from the men's room caused. the bar-
tender and several patrons to race in. “Every
time I flush this thing." insisted the querulou:
drunk, "it bites me!”

"Of course it does,” the bartende:
"You're sitting on the mop bucket.

laughed.

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines nipple as a
titular head.

My blind date last night turned ош to be
your ex-boyfriend,” groaned the secretary to
her roommate. “and, believe me, now I
why you referred to him as the wild ‘Texas
longhorn.”

now

The Italian immigrant traveling from New
York Gity to Charleston, South Carolina, by
train arrived at his destination in bad humor.
“What happened, Carlo?” asked the cousin who
met him at the station.

“Goddamn conductor tella me no do too
many things," fumed the paisano. "I take оша
my sandawich and he say, “No—inna dining
car." I starta drinka some vino and he say, “No—
inna clubba car.’ So 1 go inna clubba car, mecta
girl and she go inna empty compartament with
те and then goddamn conductor comes alonga
yelling, ‘No'foka Virginia, no'foka Virginia!

Heard a funny one lately? Send il on а post-
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, FLAYnOY,
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago,
Ill, 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned.

“As a matter of fact, it did come with some
interesting interchangeable accessories.”

133

THE
INSIDE
OUTSIDE
COMPLEX

fiction
Y SEAN ӨҒАӨІДІМ

framed in the window she was—
a pearly promise of connubial bliss

Bray at a quarter to five o'clock,

lighting-up time at 5:15, November
first, All Souls’ Eve, dedicated to the suf-
fering souls in purgatory, Bertie Bolger,
bachelor, aged 41 or so, tubby, ruddy,
graying. well known as a dealer in an-
tiques, less well known as a conflator there-
of. walking briskly along the sea front,
head up to the damp breezes, singing in a
soldierly basso, "My breast expanding to
the ball,” turns smartly into the lounge of
the Imperial Hotel for a hot toddy.

‘The room, lofty, widespread, Victorian,
gilded, overfurnished. as empty as the
ocean, and not warm. The single fire small
and smoldering. Bertie presses the bell
for service, divests himself of his bowler,
his vicuna overcoat, his lengthy scarf
striped in black, red, green and white,
the colors of Trinity College, Dublin
(which he has never attended), sits in
а chintzy armchair before the fire, pokes
nto a blaze, leans back and is at once

invaded by a clear-cut knowledge of what
month it is and an uneasy feeling about
its date. He might earlier have adverted to
both if he had not, during his perambula.
tion, been preoccupied with the problem
of how to transform a 20th Century buhl
cabinet, now in his possession, into an
18th Century ditto that might plausibly
be attributed to the original M. Boulle.
This preoccupation had permitted him to
glance at but not to observe either the red
gasometer by the harbor inflated to its
winter zenith or the hay barn beside the
dairy beyond the gasometer packed with
cubes of hay, or the fuel yard, facing the
hay barn beside the dairy beyond the gas
ometer, heavily stocked with шоши
etes of coal, or the many vacancy signs
the lodginghouses along the sea front, or
the hoardings on the pagoda below the
promenade where his mother, God rest
her, had once told him he had been
wheeled as a coifed baby in a white pram
to hear Mike Nono singing “I do liuke to
134 be besiude the seasiude, I do liuke to be

8 THEN, a dusky Sunday afternoon in

ILLUSTRATION BY PAUL GIOVANOPOULOS

PLAYBOY

besiude the sea," or, most affectingly of
all, if he only heeded them, the exquisite,
dying leaves of the hydrangeas in the
public gardens, pale green, pale yellow,
frost white, spiking the air above once-
purple petals that now clink softly in the
breeze like tiny sea shells.

He suddenly jerks his head upright,
sniffing desolation, looks slowly about the
lounge, locates іп a corner of it some hy-
drangeas left standing too long in a brass
pot of unchanged water, catapults him-
self from the chair with a “Jaysus! Five
years to the bloody day!," dons his coat,
his comforter and his bowler hat and
exits rapidly to make inland toward the
R.C. church. For days after she died, the
house had retained that rank funereal
smell. Tomorrow morning a Mass must
be said for the repose of his mother's
soul, still, maybe—who knows? Only God
knows!—suffering in the flames of
purgatory.

It is the perfect and pitiless testing
date, day and hour for any seaside town
in these northern islands. A week or two
earlier and there might still have been a
few lingering visitors, a ghost of summer's
lukewarmth, a calmer sea, its waves un-
heard and, the hands of the summer time
clocks not yet put backward, another
hour of daylight. This expiring Sunday,
the light is dim, the silence heavy, the
town turned in on itself. As he walks
through the side avenues between the sea
and the main street, past rows of squat
bungalows, every garden drooping, past
grenadiers of red brick, lace curtained,
past ancient cementfaced cottages with
sagging roofs, he is informed by every
light. oblong or half-moon, blank as
ht or distantly lit from the recesses
behind each front door, that there is
some kind of life asleep or snoozing be-
hind number 51, SAINT ANTHONY'S, LIL-
JOE'S, FATIMA, 59 (odd numbers on this
side), THE BILLOWS, SWAN LAKE, 67,
SLIEVEMISH, SEA vIEW, names in wl
paint, numbers in adhesive celluloid.
Every one of them gives a chuck to the
noose of loneliness about his neck. I live
in Dublin. 1 am a guest in a guesthouse.
I am Mr. B. I lunch on weekdays at the
United Services Club. I dine at the
Yacht Club. Good for biz. Bad for Sun-
days, restaurants shut, homeless. Pray
for the soul of Mrs. Mary Bolger, of
Tureenlahan, County Tipperary, de-
parted this life five years ago. Into thy
hands, O Lord.

On these side avenues, only an. odd
front window . Their lights flow sear-
ingly across little patches of grass called
front gardens, privet hedged, Lonicera
hedged, mass concrete hedged. Private.
КЕЕР OFF. As he passed one such light, in
what a real-estate agent would have called
a picture window, he was so shaken by
what he saw inside that after he had
passed he halted, looked cautiously about

136 him, turned and walked slowly back to

peep in again. What had gripped his at-
tention through the unsuspecting window
had been a standing lamp in brass with
a large pink shade, and beneath its red
glow, seated in an armchair with her
knees crossed, a bare-armed woman read-
ing a folded magazine, one hand blindly
lifting а teacup from a Moorish
table, holding the cup immobile while
she concentrated on something that had
detained her interest. By the time he had
returned, she was sipping from the cup.
He watched her lay it down, throw the
magazine aside and loop forward on two
broad knees to poke the fire. Her arms
looked strong. She was full-breasted. She
had dark hair. In that instant, B. B. be-
came a voyeur.

The long avenue suddenly sprang its
public lights. Startled, he looked up and
down the empty perspective. It was too
cold for evening strollers. He was aware
that he was trembling with fear. He did
not know what else he was feeling ex-
cept that there was nothing sexy to it.
To calm himself, he drew back behind
the pillar of her garden gate whose
name plate caught his eye. LORELEI, He
again peeped around the side of the pil-
lar. She was dusting her lap with her two
palms. She was very dark, a western type,
a Spanish-Calway type, a bit heavy. He
could not rn the details of the room
beyond the circle of light from the pink
lamp, and was he glad of this! It made
everything more mysterious, removed,
suggestive, as if he were watching a scene
on a stage. His lonelines left him,
his desolation, his longing. He wanted
only to be inside there, sale, secure and
satisfied.

"Ah, good evening, Bertiel" she
cried to the handsome man who entered
her room with the calm smile of com-
plete sang-froid. “1 am so glad, Bertie,
you dropped in on me. Do tell me your
news, darling. How is the antique busi-
ness? Come and warm your poor, dear
hands. It is going to be a shivering
night. Won't you take off your coat?
Tea? No? What about a drink? 1 know
exactly what you want, my pet. I will fix
it for you. 1 have been waiting and wait-
ing for you to come all the livelong day,
melting with longing and love.”

As he gently closed the door of the
cozy little room, she proffered her hand
in a queenly manner, whereupon our
hero, as was fitting, leaned over it—be
cause you never really do kiss a lady’s
hand, you merely breathe over it—and
watched her eyes asking him to sit
opposite her.

The woman rose, took her tea tray
and the room was suddenly empty. Her
toe hooked the door all but a few inches
short of shut. He was just as pleased
whether she was in the room or out of it.
АП he wanted was to be inside her room.
As he stared, her naked arm came slowly
back into the room between the door

and the jamb, groping for the light
switch. A plain gold bangle hung from
the wrist. The jamb dragged back the
shoulder of her blouse so that he saw the
dark hair of her armpit. The window
went black.

He let ош a long, whistling breath
like a safety valve and resumed his long
perambulation until he saw a similar
light streaming from the window of an
identical bungalow well ahead of him
on the opposite side of the roadway. He
padded rapidly toward it. As he reached
its identical square cement gate pillars,
he halted, looked backward and forward
and then guardedly advanced a tortoise
nose beyond the edge of the pillar to
peep into the room. A pale, dawnlike ra
diance, softly tasseled, hinted at com-
fortable shapes, a sofa, small occasional
chairs, a рош, a bookcase, heavy gleams
of what could be silver or could be
EPNS. Here, too, a few tongues of fire.
In the center of the room, a tall, thin,
elderly man in a yellow cardigan, but not
wearing a jacket or tie, stood so close
beside a young girl with a blonde water-
fall of hair as to form with her a single
unanalyzable shape. He seemed to be
speaking. He stroked her smooth poll.
‘They were like a still image out of a sì-
lent film. They were presumably doing
something simple, natural and intimate.
But what? They drew apart abruptly
and the girl, while stooping to pick up
some shining object from a low table,
looked in the same movement straight
Out through the window. В.В. was so
taken by surprise that he could. not stir,
even when she came close to the win-
dow, looked up at the sky, right and left,
as if to see if it were raining, turned
back, laughed inaudibly, waved the small
silver scissors in her hand.

In that instant, at that gesture, some-
time after 5:15 on the afternoon of No-
vember first, the town darkening, the
sky lowering, his life passing, a vast illu-
mination broke like a sunrise upon his
soul. At the shut time of the year, all
small towns become smaller and smaller,
dwindle from out of doors to in of
doors; from long beaches, black roads,
green fields, wide sun, to kitchens, living
rooms, bedrooms, locked doors, drawn
blinds, whispers, prayers, mufiling blan-
kets, nosehollowed pillows; from mak-
ing to mending; to litler and liter
things, like this blonde Rapunz
scissors and a necdle; all ei
dreaming, and might dreami
dreamless sleeping. How pleasant
could be in that declension to a white
arm creeping between a door and a
jamb, bare but for a circle of gold about
a wrist and a worn wedding ring on one
heavy finger. But I am outside. When
the town is asleep in one another's arms,
I will sleep under the walls. No wife. No
child. Mr. B.

"The head lamps of a motorcar sent

(continued on page 142)

humor By RALPH KEYES jesse corpsrzm looked
up at the faces hovering over him that spring evening in
1971. A little representative of the South Vietnamese gov-
ernment would be speaking soon and the waiting University
of Connecticut students were growing restless. Lined up
single file in front of the auditorium, the mob cracked and
undulated like a snake about to strike. A single undersized
cop tried to keep order.

Suddenly, a cry rang out: “Let's get that shrimp cop!”

Click! A lifetime of simmering fury raced through Gold-
stein's 5/4” frame. The years of taunts, of jeers, of people
telling him to stand up when he was already on tiptoe,
came bubbling to the surface. Goldstein’s fist shot low into
the air and from his mouth came a shout soon to be heard
round the world:

“Short power!”

A few months later, disc jockey Mike Miller sat in his
Wichita home watching television. The Jolly Green Giant
was casting peas from on high and Miller shifted his 5/515"
body uncomfortably. Then credits appeared on the screen
for The Longest Day.

Click! Miller shot bolt upright, his body laced with
agony. "Why not The Shortest Day for once?” The pain in-
tensified. “And how come there isn't a Jolly Green Midget?”
Miller’s teeth gnashed with anguished insight. The next
day, a grimly determined gremlin launched Mike Miller’s
Miniclub on his radio show, banning listeners over 5/47,

In another part of the country, at the same time of
year, Wendell Wagner was perusing the bulletin board of
New College in Sarasota, Florida, straining his toes and

up against the wall, six-foot oppressors!
uh, not that far up, please

PHOTOGRAPHY BY KEN FRANTZ

137

PLAYBOY

138

occasionally hopping off the ground to
read the higher notices. There were de-
mands posted on behalf of women,

Bays

Click! Click! The sophomore lowered
his heels and pulled his frame up to its
full 4710” height. The next day, a list
of Short People's Demands was posted а
few inches below the bulletin board.
Among Wagners proposals were a low
student center, bodyguards to prevent
short students from getting stepped on
and mandatory courses on all aspects of
tall oppression and the history of short
people.

Unknown to one another, Goldstein,
Miller and Wagner were firing the open-
ing salvos in a movement aimed at the
very ankles of American society: the
struggle against heightism.

Evidence of heightism іп American
society is overwhelming. Surveys consist-
ently show that tall people are hired
sooner, paid more and promoted faster
than those of shorter stature. The Little
Lie prevails in sports, corporate life,
schools, the media and the very fabric of
the English language, as Americans are
led to believe that tall is terri
silly. Examples of this disci
abound.

Sold on height: A survey of 140 sales
recruiters found that 72 percent chose a
hypothetical 61% applicant over an
equally qualified 5/5" candidate. Another
study, conducted by a University of
Pittsburgh administrator, found that a
sample of their graduates six feet and
over averaged significantly higher start-
ing salaries than those shorter. Bonuses
paid by companies тап 19.4 percent for
candidates 6/2", compared with 4.2 per-
cent for candidates graduated cum laude.

Police and fire departments are the
biggest bigots, rarely accepting anyone
under 5°7” or 5/8". Detroit's Sanshiro
Miyamoto, though only 55^, wants то be
a cop so badly he's been sleeping in trac-
tion trying to reach the Detroit Police
Department's heightist limit two inches
above him. Weights on his legs got him
only an inch and a half, so Miyamoto
has been having his wife pound him
over the head with a board, trying to
raise the other half inch. He failed.

Pituitary politics: Every American
President elected in this century save
Calvin Coolidge was the taller candi-
date. (Results of the 1972 elections were
unavailable at presstime) Over а cen-
tury ago, one study of the U. S. Senate
revealed that the average Senator was
510%” tall, a height several inches
above the national average at that time.

This study, completed in 1866, came
shortly after the Altamont of heightist
politics, when big Abe Lincoln brutally
oppressed “The Little Giant” Stephen
Douglas by winning more votes and
getting elected President.

Little Edgar Hoover's long reign as

FBI director provided small consolation
to short people. He claimed to be 5'9",
instead of his actual 5/7", and kept his
office chair screwed up high, the better
to hover over visitors sitting before him
in a low-slung couch,

Even when someone small such as
Henry Kissinger “rises to the occasion,”
detractors tower above them, like Robert
McNamara, who is alleged to have said
of Kissinger, "Henry is, above all, a
short man, and that complicates him—
intellectually, physically, sexually, and
so forth.”

Sports shorts: Sports are a nightmare
for the small, basketball being only the
most obvious example. Even stars such
as Houston Rocket guard Calvin Mur-
phy (59°) and New England Patriot
end Randy Vataha (5710) were drafted
late, then had to “prove themselves.”
After being cut by the Rams, Vataha got
icked up by the Patriots only at big
Plunkett's behest. Some sports, of
course, favor little people, but who ever
hears of them? Quick—name the winner
of last year's Kentucky Derby. Riva
Ridge, right. Now name the jockey. Or
how about Enrique Pinder? He's the
world bantamweight boxing champ.

Even when a small athlete does make
it big, the sneering press goes berserk:

When Miami's 57" Garo Yepremian
kicked a field goal to beat Kansas City
in the 1971 A.F.C. play-offs, reporters
crawled all over themselves in search
of demeaning descriptives. "Somehow,"
wrote Sports Illustrated, “it would —must,
surely, оп Christmas Day—come to this.
"That the longest game in the history
of. American professional football would
be decided by the smallest player on
the field."

Media microshots: This nation's media
are the worst perpetuators of. heightist
stercotypes. “Feisty,” usually followed by
"little," is the newspapers favorite de-
scription of any untall person who
doesn't shuffle and grin like Mickey
Rooney (as in “Alabama's feisty little
Governor George Wallace").

Jay Rockefeller is "tall, tanned and
toothy" to the press and Miami Beach
Police Chief Rocky Pomerance is “a big,
bright, benign bruiser.” Roman Polanski,
on the other hand, is described by a
“friend” as “the original five-foot Pole
you wouldn't touch anyone with." Fa-
vorite press epithers for small winners
include di utive, bantam, pintsized,
sawed-off, gnomish, mousy and molelike.

Language atrocities: The English lan-
guage is based on an implicit heightist
bias Compare "look up to," for exam-
ple, with “look down upon.” Or "get-
ting high" with “feeling low." Why are
customers never longchanged? How
come a person who gets shafted isn't

ever given “tall shrift"? Must our lan
guage stoop so high?

Short rage: When George Wallace
was shot by Arthur Bremer, the press
completely overlooked the heightist issue
volved. The contretemps was dealt
with purely in terms of its effect on the
elections and as a manifestation of U.S
violence. But what of the implications
of a man 56” firing at one 57”? Might
not Bremer have been filled with short
rage and been identifying with the op
pressor in a symbolic act of sclf-hatre:
Wallace was the symbol of diminu
uppitiness, “the fighting little judge,” 1
man of whom his six-foot mother-in-law
could say: "Why, George is hardly titty-
high, but he’s a giant.”

Such comments might be a red cape

for small assassins, filled with short
shame. In fact, most Presidential assassins
in this country have been small—or, as а

pseudoliberal report to the violence
commission put ii iot tall."

Giuseppe Zangara, five feet tall, even
had to stand on a chair to get a shot at
Franklin Roosevelt in 1933. He missed.

Reveille for runts: When Jesse Gold-
stein's fist slashed the air, he stood small
and solitary. Goldstein called a few т;
lies but each time found himself alone,
arms crisscrossed over his chest, singing
We Shall Undercome. A petite university
secretary did volunteer her Saint Ber-
пага to pull carts filled with moyement
people.

By the time Wendell Wagner tacked
down his list of demands just months
later. consciousness was changing. Sev-
eral newspapers reported his efforts and
he received nine sympathetic letters.
Six small students at the University of
California at Davis wrote: “Hurrah for
genetically superior shorts (excluding
Bermudas)!"

Mike Miller, for his part, received
nearly 300 letters from pint-sized and
proud listeners who wanted to join his
Minidub. All signed cards reading, “I,
— feet, __ inches, am proud to be small,
and do hereby swear to look down on big
people.” Members agreed to boycott
heightist establishments, such as restau-
rants that purposely install their count-
ers above eye level.

A movement was tottering to its feet
Confused, disorganized, hard to spot—
but a movement.

Power to the pips! Support began
cropping up in unlikely places. Assistant
Secretary of the Treasury Edwin Cohen,
5'5", suggested in a speech that Ameri
cans under 56” should pay only half
the taxes of taller people to compensate
“for the inequities thrust upon the short
people of the world.” Merle Haggard
recorded Billy Overcame His Size, which
described well the agony of growing up
small. (An unfortunate cop-out ending

(continued on puge 236)

ITS ALL IN TT CARY

king, queen and knavery—artist françois colos?
kinky twists to an old fortunetelling shtick

As the Brahma once said: “Walking is not the
only way to the Shrine of the Ancient Ones."

Though you are different from those about you, be undaunted, for their attention
is actually motivated by admiration and may ultimately be turned to your advantage.

138

140

Be not afraid to seek new avenues of approach.

OTT TT PTT

Fulfillment will soon be yours if you exercise restraint

You don't know the inspiration your beauty is to others.

Beware of flashy dudes

To come to grips with the situation, move confidently.

who whistle dirty songs.

One of similar interests is waiting to take you in hand.

Suppress your need to dominate and allow another to guide you.

141

PLAYBOY

142

INSIDE OUTSIDE COMPLEX

him scurrying down an unlighted lane
that may once have led to the mews of
tall houses long since leveled to make
room for these hundreds of little bunga-
lows. In this abandoned lane, the only
window light was one tiny, lolty aper-
ture in the inverted V of a gable rising
like a castle out of tall trees. Below it, at
eye level, the lane was becoming pitch-
dark. Above it, a sift of tattered light
between mourning clouds. Hissing dark-
ness. A sheaving wind. The elms were
spiky, as if the carth's hair were standing
on end. He stiffened. A bird's croak? A
sleepless nest? A far-off bark? He stared
up at the tiny box of light whose inac-
cessibility was so much part of its incite-
ment that when it went black like a
fallen candle, he uttered a “Hal” of de-
light. He would never know who had
put a finger on the switch of that float-
ing room. A maidservant about to emerge
into the town? To go where? To mect
whom? A boys den? An old woman
lumbering down the long stairs?

‘That B.B. was
laughing happily at himself. Bertie Bol-
ger. the well-known dealer! The Peep-
ing Tom from Tipperary! That was a
queer bloody fit 1 took! And Jaysus, I
forgot all about the mother again: Well,
she will have to wait until next year
now, though surely to God they'll let her
out before then? Anyway, what harm
did she ever do bar that snibby way she
ueated every girl I ever met? If it
weren't for her, 1 might have been mar-
ried 20 years ago to that Raven girl I
met in 1950 in Arklow. And a hot piece
she was, too. . . .

The next Sunday evening, he was pad-
ding softly around the back roads of
Bray. He could not locate the old-man-
blonde-girl bungalow. He winked up at
the litle cube of light, But Lorelei was
dark. The next two Sundays it was rain-
ing too heavily for prowling. On the
fourth Sunday, the window of Lorelei
was brilliantly lighted and there she was,
plying a large dressmaker's scissors on
some colored stuff laid across a gate-
legged table under the bare electric bulb
whose brightness diminished the ideality
of the room, increased the attractions of
the dressmaker. Broad cheekbones, like
a red Indi: raven hair; the jerky head
of a blackbird alert at a drinking pool,
He longed to touch one of those fingers,
broad at the tip like a little spade
Twice the lights of oncoming cars made
him walk swiftly away, bowler hat down
on nose, collar up. A third time he fled
from light pouring out of the door of
the adjacent bungalow and a woman
hurrying down its path with her over-
coat over her head and shoulders. Lop-
ing away fast, he tumed in fright to the
running feet behind him and saw her

Monday morning,

(continued from page 136)

coat ends vanish under the suddenly
lighted door lamp of Lorelei. Damn! A
visitor. Spoiling it all. Yet he came back
to his watching post, as mesmerized as a
man in a picture gallery who returns
again and again to Portrait of Unknown
Woman from scores of portraits of iden-
tified women in other rooms, unable to
tell why this one face made him so
happy. The intruder, he found, made
no dilference to his pleasure.

“Jenny! Isn't that a ring at the door?
Who the divil can that be?”

“I bet that will be Mrs. Ennis from
next door, she promised to give me a
hand with these curtains. you don't

ind, darling, do you?"
find! I'm glad you have friends,

“Hoho! I've lots of friends."

“Boyfriends, Katy?”

"Go "long with you, you ruffian, don't
you ever think of anything but the
one thing?”

“Can you blame me, with a lovely
creature like you to be there teasin’ me
all day long, don't stir, ГЇЇ let her in."

In? To what? There might be a hus-
band and a pack of kids, and at once he
had to sell his Portrait of Unknown
Woman for the known model, not being
the sort of artist who sces a model's face
below his window, runs out, drags her in
and spends weeks, maybe months, look-
ing for her reality on his canvas.

Every Sunday he kept coming back
and back to that appealing, roseate win-
dow, until one afternoon, when he saw
her again at her tea, watched her for a
while, then boldly clanged her black
gate wide open, boldly strode up her
path, leaped up three steps to the door,
rang the bell. A soft rain had begun to
sink over the town. The day was gone. A
far grumble of waves from the shingle.
She opened the door. So close, so sol
so near, so real he could barely recognize
her. His silence made her lift her head
sideways in three interrogatory jerks.
She had a slight squint, which he would
later consider one of her most enchant-
g accomplishments—she might have
been looking at another man behind his
shoulder. He felt the excitement of the
hunter at her vulnerable nearness. He
suddenly smelled her. Somebody had
told him you can always tell a woman's
€ by her scent. Chanel—and Weil's
itclope—over 60. Tweed—always а

ше woman. Madame Rochas—the
10s. The 30s smell of aftershave lotion:
Eau Sauvage. Mustache. Wisps of man
scent. The 20s—nothing. She had a
heavy smell Tartly she demanded,
“Yes?” Unable to speak, he produced
his busines card, handed it to her
spade fingers. HERBERT BOLGER / ANTIQUES |
2 HUME STREET, DUBLIN. She laughed
at him.

"Mr. Bolger, if you are trying to buy

something, I have nothing for you; if
you are trying to sell me something, I
have even less."

He was on home ground now; they all
said that, he expected it, he relied on
them to say it. His whole technique of
buying depended on his knowing that
while it is true that the so-called Big
Houses of Ireland have been gleaned by
the antique dealers, a lot of Big House
people have come down to small dis:
couraged houses like this one, bringing
with them, like wartime refugees, their
few remaining heirlooms. Her accent,
however, was not a Big House accent. It
was the accent of a workaday country-
woman. She would have nothing to sell.

"Come, now. Mrs. Eh? Benson? Well.
now, Mrs. Benson, you say you have
nothing to sell, but in my experience, a
lot of people don't know what they have.
Only last week, I paid a lady thirty
pounds for a silver Georgian saltcellar
that she never knew she possessed. You
might have much more than you
realize."

He must get her alone, inside. He had
had no chance to see her figure. Her
hair shone like jet beads. Her skin was
not a flat white. It was a lovely, rich,
ivory skin, as fine as lawn or silk. He felt
the rain on the back of his neck and
turned up his coat collar. He felt so
keyed up by her that if she touched him,
his string would break. She was frowning
at him incredulously. There was one
thing she possessed that she did not
know about. Herself.

“Well, it is true that my late husband
used to attend auctions. But- "

"Mrs Benson, may I have just one
quick. glance at your living room?" She
wavered. They always did. He smiled
reassuringly. “Just one quick glance. It
will take me two minutes.”

She looked up at the rain about her
door lamp.

“Well? All right, then. But you are
wasting your time. I assure you. And I
am very busy.

Walking behind her in the narrow
hallway, he took her in from calves to
head. She was two women, heavy above,
lighter below. He liked her long strong
legs, the wide shoulders, the action of
her lean haunches and the way her head
rose above her broad shoulders. ide,
the room was rain dim and hour dim,
until she switched on a central 150-watt
bulb that drowned the soft pink of the

ing lamp, showed the furniture in
exposed all the random
marks and signs of a room that had
been long lived in. At once he regretted
that he had come. He walked to the win.
dow and looked out through its small
bay up and down the avenue. How ap-
pealing it was out there! All those cozy
little, dozing little, rosy little bungalows
up and down the avenue, and those dark
trees comforting the gabled house with
(continued on page 184)

"COME ON, JACK, whatsa matter
— ya 'fraid U play me?” Asch is
talking to Colay
ou been playin’ all day
and І haven't even warmed up,”
Colavita says.

Asch finishes his game of
straight pool as the exchange
continues. — Colavita shuffles
across the plush carpeting of
the Crystal Room in the Sher-
aton-Chicago Hotel, the prac-
tice room for contestants in the
world’s biggest pool rouma-
ment, the U. S. Open, sponsored
by the Billiard Congress of
America. Colavita “warms up"
by running out 15 balls.

Just as he's getting set to beat.
Asch a second time, an official-
looking man walks up. “Let's
go. boys, this table's for display.
If you keep coming over here,
I'm going to have to ask your
fathers not to bring you next
P

‘Twelve-yearold Colavita. un-
defeated at that particular ille-
gal table, just mumbles, "Yes,
sit,” as he’s been taught. His
father, he knows, is in the
next room playing his most
important game of the year.
‘The word Have a good time, son, but don't make waves.

Across from the forbidden table are three other tables for
contestants to practice on. At one of them a pudgy blond
man casually knocks balls around. He is only in his 20s, but
his hairline is already inching backward. He moves around
the table with a slow disjunct gait. as if his spine were a
Slinky. You stand and watch 100, maybe 200 balls go down
without a hitch. You begin to wonder what's going on. He
doesn't seem particularly concerned where the balls go.
doesn’t scem 10 take much time or effort putting them there.

hey all go in. The other players. who work so hard at it.
t get nearly as many.

at the table is Steve Mizerak, the
er in the world. Like Willie Hoppe or
Irving Crane—and like young Jack Colavita—Mizerak was
taught the game as soon as he was tall enough to reach the
table. Unlike your normal prodigies, Mizerak more or less
ignores the game, playing only a few times a month except just
before this tournament. From qualifying matches all around
the country have come 32 men who will play in the Scventh
Annual U.S. Open. Thirty-one of them have skill. Mizerak
bas only his gift.
here are also 16 contestants who have qualified for the
women' sdivision matches, which are held just before the
men's each day. While the men must have 150 points to win
a game, the women need only 75. First prize for the male
winner is 55000; the female champion gets only $1500. But
the apparent discrimination is justified: In 1971, the high
run for th 9. For the men, it was 108. Safeties
(defensive maneuvers intended to leave the opponent wi
sonable shot) ma s game and
is always excruciatingly slow, never daring. The plain fact
is that the women contestants just don't have the egocentric
flair that makes so many of the men interesting to watch.
Donna Ries, a student of clinical psychology from Kan:
City, Missou year's women’s

hout
area

THE NATURAL

article By LAURENCE GONZALES

when it comes to playing pool, steve mizerak
їз extraordinary—which means he’s more ordinary
than most folks—and that’s what keeps him winning

division, thinks that the men
outshine the women because
men bet more hea: and are

generally more competitive. As
far as Mizerak is concerned,
women will never be excellent
pool players, because they li
what he calls the “inner
strength” necessary to w
stand the high pressures in-
volved in serious pool playing.
Aside from that, he really
doesn't have an explanation.

Dorothy Wise, a handsome
-haired lady from San Fran-
cisco, was champion {гот 1967,
when the B.C.A. first sponsored
а women's tournament, until
1972, when she s defeated
first by Geraldine Titcomb, a
1971 runner-up, and then by
Madelyn Whitlow, wife of Al-
ton Whitlow, a contestant in
the men’s competition. All the
players were upset, however, by
("The Kid") Balukas, а
shy—nearly comatose coser
to the truth; she spoke hardly a
word during the entire tourna-
ment, her father doing most of
the talking for her—13-year-old.
Ms. Balukas started playing
when she was four years old
(that seems to be the age when you can see over the edge
of the rail) and won two games in the U.S. Open when she
was nine. She is too young at this point for anyone to know
what will develop, but there are some interesting impli
for her future: Oddly enough, her favorite game is
and it’s rumored that she plays pool only to please her father.
Js it possible that she will move оп to revolutionize women's
pool? She doesnt think so. As far as she's concerned, the
reason women don't play well is their inability to play
position properly. Perhaps she's right: In studies done in
1958 and 1965. evidence strongly suggested that females
perform more poorly than males on spatial tasks and are
less likely to analyze geometric designs in terms of their
component p:

=

5

The official competition takes place in the Grand Ball
room. a mockelegant place with too many hundreds of
pounds of gaudy chandeliers and the wrong style of pillars.
Тһе fresh green felt on the tables glares under the cold blue
light from the fluorescent tubing hung for the tournamen
The carpeting on the dance floor is done in broad сапһ
colors vaguely suggesting something Oriental As if this
weren't enough. three sides of the room arc hung from floor
ing with blood-red. velvety curtains.

some coherence in decor is created by the players and
spectators, whose dress leans toward white wingtip shoes and
Argyle socks, matching purple ticand-shirt combinations.
rullied culls, simulated-diamond stickpins, ivory buttons and
pomaded ducktail hairdos. Most of the time it’s difficult to tell
if they are trying to appear well dressed or have simply been
out of touch since the mid-Fifties. While some look like small-
gangsters, others just seem to be color-blind.

Of course, in addition to these representatives of the
underbelly of the pool world, there are the regular hard-hats
in plaid shirts and khaki pants, out to see how the legendary
players work, and w take back something to talk about over

ILLUSTRATION BY WARREN LINN

143

PLAYBOY

144

the quarterai-rack bar table. And the
blacks turn out in an array of leather
hats and studded wristbands, rainbow-
suede vests and high-heeled shoes, not
to mention pink- and puce- and avocado-
tinted sunglasses. . . . Then come the
promoters and officials, carefully sewn
and zippered into Robert Hall, bargain-
basement and. neo-bland suits spanning
the spectrum from light gray to dark
gray. It's more like a recreation room
tlie local asylum than the site of a world-
championship pool tournament.

Four tables making an open square in
the center of the room arc in use simul-
taneously during the eliminations. Asso-
ated with each pair of subjects are two
chairs and a card table supporting ash-
trays and water pitchers, blue chalk and
talcum powder. Behind each card table a
staff of judges observes the contestants in
silence, displaying with an overhead pro-
jector a record of the results. Beyond the
playing area, spectators shift and fidget
on the worn wooden bleachers.

At cach table are two kinds of pa-
tients. One is an acute depressive, sit-
ting down, sipping water, trying not to
look too hard at the score and wonder-
ing when his opponent—the manic—is
going to stop making those damned
shots. The manics move around, pocket-
ing balls with malicious glee, between
ripples of applause from the audience.
One such case, a man named Hopkins,
defeats his alter ego 150 to 1, on the
strength of an opening run of 141 balls.

Many microcosmic dramas of victory
and defeat are witnessed in this tourna-
ment. Luther ("Wimpy") Lassiter, winner
of the 1969 tournament, and legend-
ary player in his own right, is defeated
twice (disqualifying him) in his frst
four games. His eyes have gotten so bad
lately that he has had to paint the end
of his cue red. Lou ("Machine Gun")
Butera—nicknamed (ог his rapid-fire
style of play—misses one shot that is so
easy and obvious that he throws his cue
onto the floor. He is out of the running
alter three games. Younger contestants
such as Steve Cook and Andrew Ten-
пеш, Jr. are especially hard hit when
confronted with the seasoned players
more in control of their nerves.

Game after game, and almost point
alter point, what takes place is not so
much the victory of one man in a game
the spectacle of one man seeking out
and destroying another's ego. finding his
little weaknesses and jumping in to take
advantage of them. And beyond a cer-
tain level of technical accomplishment,
the game comes closer and closer to
being one man’s character against anoth-
er's: Psychological inadequacies lose the
matches more often than motor-skill de-
ficiencies. To most of these men, pool is
war, and defeat means more casualties.

In competition as fierce as this, the

players are cautious, hypertense and
cagey. Their movements around the
tables are quick and abrupt, but their
shots are carefully planned and executed
with grave concern, Only rarely will you
эсе а player attempt a difficult shot, even
a bank or cushion shot that he's made
many times in more casual play. The
pressure is simply too great. If the ball
doesn't crop, it could mean the end of
the game.

The exception is Mizerak. We see him
at one point faced with a shot that, for
all practical purposes, is impossible.
Nevertheless (before a crowd of over
100 people, clamped to their seats, reni.
tent with nervous tension), he flips his
wrist, shrugs his shoulders and watches
the object ball deflect off three others,
making no fewer than three right-angle
turns before it dribbles toward the ap-
pointed pocket, almost pausing for a
moment—and then drops. There is а
second of breathless quiet while people
double take to make sure it has really
happened. Then the audience explodes.
Behind the table a judge's spectacles
tumble into his water glass as he stares
in disbelief, not so much that Mizerak
made the shot but that he had the nerve
to try it. And that's the point.

When you think of the best in the
world, you might picture a dapper man
in his 40s, like Willie Mosconi, totally
dedicated to improving the game of
pocket billiards. Or perhaps a cigar-
smoking hustler who vaguely resembles
a new species of rodent. But not Steve
Mizerak, who can be found most of the
year casting pearls before seventh grad-
ers at the Samuel E. Shull School in
Perth Amboy, New Jersey. And not a
man who, most days goes out after
school to shoot a dedicated but mediocre
game of golf. And most certainly not а
man who plays pool only when he has
to. You'll never find him in Johnston
City hustling the hustlers, and you prob-
ably won't sce him in other tournaments
Yet he's the first man under $0 ever to
win the U.S. Open.

A candid, humorless 27-year-old,
Mizerak grew up the middle-class son of
а professional baseball manager and play-
er who later turned to running a pool
hall to support his family. Steve drives a
new Ford and drinks an old fashioned
occasionally, for social reasons. He lives
in Woodbridge, New Jersey, with his
wife, Linda, and their infant son. He
likes to bet on his golf game but always
loses. Twice a year he goes to the track
—more cash down the tubes. Occasional-
ly, he makes promotional tours for
Brunswick—but, he emphasizes, only for
the money. For fun? “I do very little
for fun," he says with a dry chuckle,
“except play golf.”

About his growing fame all he has to
say is: “Well, somebody's liable to read

an article and want me to come over to
his house for exhibitions or lessons." He
has two students right now who pay $20
to $25 an hour for help with their
games, which Steve describes as "not too
good—one guy can run maybe forty or
fifty balls. The other guy can run twenty
or twenty-five. You can't really teach а
man too much" Everything he says
comes out with a shrug.

This is what makes the critical differ-
ence. The man is extraordinary, which
means he's more ordinary than most
people. And this makes him so strange
that he really doesn’t care: The amazing
shots he makes, the high runs, the title
he takes home year after year are not a
matter of nerve and courage. Because һе
is relaxed, apprehension cannot betray
him. With no concern, there is no fcar:
with no fear, no tension; and without.
tension, there is no flickering of an eye
or random twitch of a muscle to keep
any of the balls from falling into the
intended pocket. In almost any game,
practice is the deciding factor. Pool is по
exception, but Mizerak is. He's the living
embodiment of the textbook natural

Consequently, when the final match
approaches, i ely not Mizerak who
is thinking about that monumental car-
‘om shot he just made but his opponent,
"Dapper" Dan DiLiberto, defeated only
by Mizerak in the final game of the
eliminations.

DiLiberto has been wearing the same
blue double-breasted suit coat all week.
les still clean. He's a tall, trim 33-year
old from Miami who was once a profes-
sional boxer and bowler. Now he plays
pool for money and paints for relaxa-
tion. His striking blue-black mustache
and full head of hair, combined with his
muscular build and decisive movements,
make Mizerak look like a cartoon figure
by comparison.

For this final confrontation, a single
table remains in the center of the room.
Everything seems a litle brighter, а
little cleaner, and the audience looks
somehow different. The people have all
changed their clothes. ight the dia.
monds and pearls are real, and real
money in 100s and 50s is changing
hands. The nervous chatter has given
way to intense silence—until the official
introduces DiLiberto without realizing
that the contestants haven't shown up
yet. Someone in the audience punctures
the dead quiet Hey. Danny. this
isn't a chess match!" Finally DiLiberto
appears, grinning sheepishly.

"Тһе first game goes very quickly, end-
ing in not much more than an hour. To
everyone's amazement, DiLiberto wins it,
and he's greeted with nearly five min-
utes of standing hysteria. Mizerak just
sits there, sipping his water, calm and
unruffled. You cin see his thoughts in

(concluded on page 238)

“Gee, Onan...

doesn’t the moon make you feel romantic?”

M5

PLAYBOY

digger's FAME Continued from page 122)

the Digger gets that Zenith for a
hundred and Lechmere's knocking them
down for threefifty, 1 don't hear по
complaints from you.’ See, 1 stand up
for you, Digger.”

“You interested іп a portable radio?"
the Digger asked.

"No," Harrington said.

"How about a nice color TV?" the
Digger asked. "RCA, AccuColor, the
whole bit

"No," Harrington said. "I touch the
stereo the other night by mistake and
I burned myself. I'm gonna be s
there some fine night, watching the
game, and some сор gonna come i
ides, 1 can't buy nothing right now, 1
are if you're giving it away. The
wife wants a boat. l'm supposed to be
saving up for a boat.”

"Look." the Digger said, "I need some
dough.

“Jesus,” Harrington said, "I could use
some dough mysclf, You get ahold the
guy that’s passing owt the dough, give
him my name. 1 could use about thirty-
five big ones, right this minute. I got to
buy a boat. Get that? I had a boat. I
had four rooms over to Saint Columb-
kille's, 1 had a nice boat. She don't like
that. We pot to have a house. ‘I cant
afford no house, I said, 71 haven't got
the down payment, for God's sake." She
says: ‘Sell the boat.’ I didn't want to sell
my boat. 1 didn't want to buy the house.
I sell the boat. I buy the house, Nine
years we had the house, eight of them
she's been complaining, we should get
another boat. 1 give up.
^m serious," the Digger said.

“You're serious, is it?" Harrington
asked “You think I'm just horing
around?"

“You're not serious the way I'm seri-
ous,” the Digger said. “I need eighteen
thousand dollars and 1 need it right
away. Yesterday would've been good.”

"Oh-oh," Harrington said, "you guys
did take a bath out there, didn't you?"

The Digger nodded. “The rest of the
guys, not as bad as me. But | went in
right over my head."

“Jesus” Harrington said, "that why
you're out all night?”

yup." the Digger said, "| take all
kinds of chances and you know what?
I'm not even close to even.” From the
end of the bar a customer demanded
service. "Shut your fuckin’ mouth, I give
you a bat in the head," the Dipger
shouted. “ГИ get to you when I'm
damned good and fuckin' ready. Right
now I'm talking to а guy.” The custom
er said he thought he could get a drink
n the place. “You can get a drink when
1 feel like gettin’ you a fuckin’ drink,"
the Digger said. "Right now I don't feel
like it. Paul, ‘stead of sittin’ down there
like a damned dog, come around and

146 give the Joudmouth bastard what he

wants. Pour it down his fuckin’ pants,
all 1 care." At the end of the bar, a small
man with gray hair got off his stool
came around to the spigots. He st
to draw beer. “I got to get ew
Digger said to Harrington. “I got to fi
а way to get even and that's all there
isto it.”

lowre not gonna do it pushing
gion said. “You're not
gonna do it that way, I can tell you
right now. You, 1 think you're gonna
have to find something a lot biggern
radios to sell, you expect to make that
kind of dough."

“Well, OK," the Digger said, "that's
what I was thinking.”
rington said, “you're gon-
na have to sell the place, here.”

“No,” the Digger said.

“Whaddaya mean, “Мө?” Harrington
asked. "You haven't got anything else
you can sell. You don’t dress that good,
you can't sell suits. You got a car there,
isn't bad, but you got to get around and
you couldn't get more'n a grand for
you sold it, anyway. What the hell else
can you do, sell your house? Can't do
that. Some guy make you a price on the
wife and kids?”

“well,” the Digger said, “I mean,
there's other ways of raising money.”

“Not without g chances" Har-
rington said. "That kind of money, you
either got in the bank and you go in
and you take it out, or else you got it in
something else and you go the bank and
you practically hand it over to them, or
else you go the bank with а gun and
you say: "Gimme everybody else's mon-
cy. There's no other way, and that last
one. that's risky.”

"There's other ways.” the Digger said.
"Look, this place. You know what I
hadda do, get this place? I hadda get
up off the floor is what I hadda do.
Johnny Malloy, I get out of the slammer
and Johnny Malloy gives me a job and
no shit. Me, I figured it's temporary. 1
got to have something to do. I never

had any idea of running a barroom all
my life
“What's the matter with running a

“Мой
hed 1

the
had a

bar?"

Harrington asked
1

7 the Digger said, “but th
Takes money, get а bar. 1 did
money. All 1 had was a goddamned
record. Was all 1 could do, keep the
probation looking the other way while 1
was working here. Se, Malloy gets the
cancer. He knew he had it. He says.
there wasn’t anybody else had the mon-
ey, wanted to buy it. They're all laying
off. He told me that. "Wait it out and
steal it off the wile, they got in mind.
Bastards, I'll sell it to you for what it's
worth. Not what I could get for it if I
was all right and 1 just wanted to sell.

What it’s worth, That's about
what I'm getting offers lor’

“I said: “John, 1 haven't gor what the

ace's worth. You know that, the Dig
1. “I'm working for you, for
sake. I shouldn't even be doing
you're taking a chance with the
Fm waking a chance with the
probation, what the hell. I can't buy this
place.”

"He says You quit too fas, my
friend. What I got in mind, you just
keep on working for me, only 1 won't be
here. You work for the wife. Only in
stead of me keeping what I got left after
1 pay for the stock and the lights and
you and all, you pay for the stock and
that, and pay her like she was working
for you, and you keep whats left. You
do that long enough. she's all right. the
kids finish school, I don't have to worry
about none of that stuff, because I trust
you, and you end up with the place.
Me, what the hell 1 want with money?
Where Im going. moneys no good
What 1 need is somebody who's gon
pay money to Evelyn."
said: ‘John, OK, all right, sure. But
the license. I can't get on no license.
You want your wife оппа license He
says, no, he don't want that. Somebody'd
take it away from her. He says: "Look.
муал you see what your brother can
do, the governor? Try for a pardon."

“So 1 do it,” the Digger said. “I go sec
my holy brother and I ask him, does he
know anybody. See, by then he's almost
getting over it, I did time. Well, no, he
don't know anybody, but then he's in
pretty thick with Bishop Hurley there.
Maybe Hurley knows somebody, So it's
this way and that, and then 1 get this
call from this Rep I never heard of
before, will I meet him? Sure I'll meet
him. So I meet him, and he's got quite a
lot to say, how do I like the weather and
what about the way the Red Ѕохте do
ing, all kinds of shit, and finally he gets

twice

to the point: Не wants five hundred
bucks. For what he don’t say, why he
wants it from me, but he knows me and

he knows I want this pardon, which 1
didn't tell him, and he says: "Running
lor office, it’s very expensive. 1 got this
printing bill” Then he shows me this
bill, it’s all beat to shit. He's been
carrying it around for probably two
years, ever since he got elected, showing
it to six or eight guys а week. Thats
how I could do it, boy, get even: All 1
need's one of them printing bills. Any
way, it's for five hundred and thirty
bucks and he says: 1 dunno how fm
gonna pay it"

"| come back to Malloy,
said. “I ask him and he say
the five. "That's cheaper'n I figured."

"Now, I don't know this Rep from
a hole inna ground,” the Digger said,
"and Reps don't give pardons, governors
do that. But J do it. Two months later,

(continued on page 238)

the

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PLAYBOY

TO CHINA WITH NIXON

PKU chooses to live and to hang on to
power, and has to pretend he can't speak
English, and presides over a university
gutted of spirit and intellect. which,
Sinologist White concluded, after survey-
ing the curriculum, offers fewer courses
in Chinese history than any important
university in the United States. We were
surprised. Not so much that PKU is as it
is but, once again, that we should have
been allowed to see it under the circum-
stances. We were surprised, but I began

to get the idea; and the idea is deadly.
‘The long march for America has been
away from Wilsonianism in foreign poli-
cy, but we have not meditated what else
it is that we are losing along the way.
We did not make the world safe for de-
mocracy—Wilson's stated objective—by
our venture into the First or the Second
World War. In fact, a very good case
can be made for the idea that the more
strenuously we sought to export our de-
mocracy, the less democracy flourished,
and perhaps it wasn't coincidence. It was
well before Nixon's China trip that we
gave up on that illusion, reducing our
general position by one gigantic step.
Now we committed ourselves to making
the world safe for those countries that
wished to resist subjugation by a major
Communist power. Call it, if you will,
the Fulbright Reservation. It was neatly
: “Insofar

its own frontiers, that na-
tion, however repugnant its ideology, is
one with which we have no proper quar-
rel." The corollary of the Fulbright Res-
ervation was that we did have a proper
quarrel with any nation that was mot
content to practice its doctrines within
its own frontiers, though I think the
Senator would have wanted to refine
that just a little, to read: subject to
United States resources, and to our eval-
wation of the strategic implications of a
defeat of the country resisting the expor-
tation of a foreign ideology. It was, of
course, the application of the ЕШЬ
Reservation that brought us to war in
Korea and Indochina, and to the brink
of war in Quemoy, Berlin, Lebanon
and Cuba.

The China trip did much to dislodge
the Fulbright Reservation, though Ful-
bright himself, and many others, had
meanwhile done a great deal to put pres-
sure оп the dam Mr. Nixon yanked
open. They did this by seeking to cx-
plain, or if you prefer, to explain away;
by managing to understand, and then
to tolerate, that which was formerly
thought of as quite simply repugnant.
And, at the other end, by seeking to dis-
parage, and otherwise abuse, that which
was formerly accepted, if not as ideal,

150 quite dearly as nonrepugnant. In this

(continued from page 106)

endeavor much of vocal American soci-
ety has engaged over recent years. Mar-
tin Luther King said about America that
it was "the greatest purveyor of vio-
Тепсе” since Hitler, even as some histo-
rians were discovering that the Cold
War could not truly be said to have
been primarily the fault of the So
Union. At the barricades іп Ameri
academies, students and. professors were
denouncing this country as militarist
and materialist and racist, while we
began indulgently to understand certain
historical necessities, certain quite un-
derstandable practices, under the ci
cumstances, in Russia and China. The
young American president of the Na-
tional Students Association went to
North Vietnam to broadcast to the South
Vietnamese the news that theirs was the
worst military despotism in history. Pro-
fessor Noam Chomsky and like-minded
folk were saying you could not believe a
word uttered by the Government of the
United States, while urging us to accept
the word of the government of the So.
viet Union on everything from statistics
on genocide to the control of atomic
testing and production. A perfect equ
m was finally reached, in the egali-
tarianization of Them and Us, in a
speech given in the spring of 1971—by
Senator Fulbright. General de Gaulle
prefigured it all when he used to refer to
“the two hegemonies,” but most people
put that down as sour grapes from
the junior varsity. Fulbright now was
talking about our unnecessary fear of
the growth of Soviet naval power in
the Mediterranean. “This is not to sug-
gest that the Russians are lacking

ambitions in the Middle East," he sai
“There is no doubt that they desire to
maximize their ‘influence’ in the Arab
world and that they derive gratification
from sailing their warships around the
Mediterranean. This, however, is normal
behavior for a great power: It is quite
similar to our own. We too keep a feet
in the Mediterranean, which is a good
deal farther from our shorcs than it is
from the Soviet Union; and our main
objection to Soviet ‘influence’ in the
Arab countries is that it detracts from
our own. Were it not for the fact that
they аге Communists—and therefore
‘bad’ people—while we are Americans
—and therefore ‘good’ people—our poli-
cies would be nearly indistinguishable.”

There, now.

Professor Ross Terrill, an Australian
teaching now at Harvard, moved rather
more philosophically into the question
in two bi les published in
The Atlantic immediately before Presi-
dent Nixon's trip. They were, reportedly,
closely examined by all of us, and al-

stantly apparent and sometimes even

schoolboyish (it was "Mr. Chou," but
just plain "Rogers"), he did not attempt
to disguise, in the manner of the Stalin
apologists, the lack of freedom in China,
as conventionally understood: with em-
phasis on the qualifier. “Turning back
toward the hotel, 1 pass a Protestant

church—its closed gates bearing the
banner ‘Carry through the Cultural
Revolution to the end" Sometimes he

tried to explain a particular deprivation
"Wherever I walk, there is а People’s
Liberation Army man with boyish grin
and fixed bayonet. ‘Back the other way.
Well, it is a sensitive area. . . . There
жаз an openness and a practical root to
nearly all the restraints that met me in
China." But the effort is halfhearted
—there wasn't, after all any readily
understandable explanation of the prac-
tical root for the refusal of any news
vendor to sell him the morning papers.
Nor does Terrill tell us that the strait-
ened freedom is otherwise compensated
for, say by meritocratic integrity. "An-
other PLA [People’s Liberation Army]
officer, a tough, cheery man who con-
fessed his total ignorance of medicine,
was head of a Peking hospital.” He
does not even begin to suggest that there
is cultural freedom in China. "I found
cultural life far more politicized. . . .
Public libraries, and museums too, are
closed. Churches are boarded up, empty,

and checkered with political slogans.
In 1971 you simply do not find, as you
could in 1964, segments of social and in-
tellectual life around which the tentacles
have not curled.” The propa-
in the style of the Red Detach-
ment of Women, is altogether relentless.
Terrill confirms that іп Shensi, with
a population of 25,000,000 people.
100,000,000 Mao works were published
during the Cultural Revolution. A litle
liberty, perhaps, for the people liberated
on Liberation Day by the People's Lib-
eration Army of the People's Republic
of China? “1 inquired of the spokes-
man of the factory Revolutionary Com-
mittee, ‘Can a worker trausfer work by
his own individual decision? 1 mi
have asked if the leopard can change his
spots.” Terrill too knew about the plight
of higher education. “At PKU I saw the
English class, which was reading, and dis-
cussing, Aesop's fables. . . . They received
me with clapping—though few, I found,
knew what or where Australia is.
But after all that, the breath-catching
evasion. The cement poured on the
floor Senator Fulbright secks to stand
on. “People ask, China free? but
there is no objective measure of the free-
dom of a whole society." He explains
that there are differences in ours and
the Chinese historical experience that
account for many differences in attitude.
But he agrees that yes, "At one point
we and China face the same value
(continued on page 203)

ADVANTAGE, 600

humor By ART BUCHWALD
the world’s greatest top-spinner

LONDON, ENGLAND—Art Buchwald, the
oldest professional tennis player in the

cocked serve, which is now used by every
professional tennis player of any note, The

history of the game, dropped dead today holds service as he serve puts a spin on the ball that causes
of a heart attack on the Centre Court at d А 1 it to go through the legs of the opponent.
Wimbledon. He was 93 years old. envisions his own obituary He will also be remembered for his

Мг Buchwald was playing in the
final match of the men's singles against
Pancho Romero and was leading 6-1,
6-0, when, in the third set with the score
4-2, Romero hit a blazing drive down
the middle of the court Buchwald
clutched his heart, blood drained from
his face, but he managed to return the
bali, much to the surprise of Romero,
who hit it into the net.

He was rushed to Queen's Hos-
pital in an ambulance but was
dead on arrival Ап attend-
ant said Buchwald's last words
were, "Tell Romero he was
lucky this time, but I'll be
waiting for him to play that
final championship game
in the sky."

Art Buchwald started
late in the tennis business.
"The early years of his life
were spent writing a news-
paper column on politics
and the human foibles of
our society. Then, at 45, he
started scarching for new
worlds to conquer. One
day he picked up a tennis
racket in a friend's house.

"Whar's this?" he asked.

The friend said, “It's a
tennis racket.”

“Show me how the game
is played.”

Тһе friend took Buchwald
out onto his tennis court and
in an hour Buchwald managed
to get the hang of it. In two
hours he was beating his fri
with what has since been described
as “the fastest second serve in
tennis.”

The friend told Buchwald he was
a natural and should join the proles-
sional ranks, but at first the columnist
was reluctant to take the sport seriously.
Its true he played at Forest Hills and
Indianapolis the following year, winning
both the men’s grass and the day cham-
pionships, but it wasn't until 1975 that
Buchwald started to play for money.

He gave up his column and his writing
career to concentrate on tennis and never
touched a typewriter key again,

In 1976 Buchwald toured Australia,
where he was unscored upon in 47
matches, In 1980 he won $3,500,000 in
prize money, not counting fees he earned
for shaving-lotion testimonials.

Mr. Buchwald invented the backhand

- »
71"
РУ

уу

ILLUSTRATION BY ARNOLD ROTH

“choked forehand.” where the ball is
hit first as a lob but then drops dead
in the forecourt.

A favorite with the ladies, the silver-
haired Buchwald was followed every-
where he played by what was called
Artie's Army.

He had to pay two bodyguards to
escort him out of stadiums, because
women would always try to rip the

crocodiles off his tennis shirts.

Buchwald never believed іп
training and the night before
a particularly rough match
he could be found in a caba-
ret, dancing with three or
four movic stars until five
in the morning.
ihen he was 75, he
ized for setting а
bad example for American
youth. Buchwald replied:

“I play better when J dance

the night before." At least

that’s how it came out

in the newspaper.
Although he was a ter-
rific competitor and fought
for every point, Buchwald
never questioned a lines
man's call. He always
praised his opponents, no
matter how badly he beat
them, and sometimes shared
his prize money with them
when he felt they had played

particularly well.

Besides winning every possi-

ble tennis championship in

the world, Buchwald had been
a member of the Tennis Hall
of Fame for 40 years. An entire
wing of the hall had to be built to
house all his trophies.
Because of his tennis, Buchwald had
friends among kings, presidents and em-
perors. He had been knighted for teach-
ing King Charles's daughter the game.

He had also received the Order of Mao
Tsetung for introducing tennis to the
People's Republic of China.

When President Christopher Kennedy
was informed of Buchwald's untimely
death, he ordered every tennis net in the
United States to be lowered to half-mast.

The President said, “America has lost its
greatest topspinner. It will be impossible
to find someone to replace him. But after
a month of mourning. 1 have ordered the
game to be played again. Art Bud
wald would have wanted it that wa

Ja 151

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PLAYBOY

NIRVANA BY THE BAY (continued from page 112)

awaiting the next call, San Francisco
as a town in which no one had to
decide whether or not to open the win-
dow. Good working. A host of lawyers,
doctors, architects, postanalysands were
deciding not to get but to get
happy on the Bay. А nice place to idle
away the rest of die century.

‘Then, around 1965-1966. . . . No,
let's name the night. On the night when
I heard the Jefferson Airplane in the
Matrix on Fillmore—amplified? What's
this? Speak a little louder, I can't hear
you—it was clear that a new implosion
had occurred, and an explosion would
follow. The cybernetic revolution had
hit the beat guitar. It was as if every
washer-dryer in the universe were churn-
ing out its Bendix slurp ‘n’ roll. I was—
how to put it?—charmed.

"The rest is the history of the moment.
The primal horde discovered Levis. Old
Cronus was dealing at the corner of
Haight and Ashbury. Poster art became
ual rock "n' roll,” and the youth-
quake became a market. Into the great
media machine was fed the hope and
dream of a time. "I'm not putting down
the Vi declared a retired
activist from Berkeley, no longer inter-
ested in politics, tuned in, turned on,
dropped out and cured like beef jerky.
“After all, Vietnam brought us all to-
gether, so it was a real good thing."

And in the flash of a season, it was
Mafia hip, MGM groovy, a style for
every college and big city in the coun-
try. А revolution, a fashion and an in-
dustry all in one. Then the bands were
no longer playing for frec in the park.
The Diggers stopped serving their buffa
lo stew in the Panhandle. Emmett Gro-
gan was writing his memoirs for Little.
Brown. Posthip in San Francisco is like
postbeat: There are still people in door-
ways, hiding out, waiting for the next
movement. The town staggers along,
looking for its next movement. There
are those who swear that when it hap-
pens they won't tell anyone. But if they
don't, will it be a movement? There are
guru poets in the Friends & Relations
Hall on the Great Highway, beating old
coffee cans till their heads spin, expand-
ing their consciousness and destroying
their eardrums, but are they really a
movement? "They say, "We're a counter-
cultural biggie,” and maybe they are,
but the шайіс whooshes by and not
many stop to receive the message.

On Haight Street a strung-out speed
freak in dirty denims stops а passer-by
and invites him to her pad. "I may not
be a flower child anymore," she says
enticingly, "but come with me anyway.
Have you ever had a real pig?"

Haight Street for а while was а teen-

tnam war,"

154 age slum; then worse, a speed and

heroin real-estate hell. It dropped all
the way out. And now speculators are
buying in ара

The special story about San Francisco
may be that it is a place to drop out
while not absolutely dropping out. A
former graduate student and mad bomb-
er, fled to Canada after trying to end
the war in Vietnam by ending the Bank
of America, now dwells at relative peace
with himself in Bernal Heights. He con-
fessed, regretted, returned, did a bit of
prison, had his skull fractured in the
showers by a patriotic felon, recovered,
wears а steel plate in his head and
now works for Sparkics, delivering pack-
ages. He has a pretty wife. “That’s not
the way,” he says about bombing. The
urban-rural slum, an interracial commu-
on the hilly slope of Bernal, gives
him a home. There are even unpaved
streets, and chickens, and back-yard gar-
dens, plus coffeehouses and theater
groups and action art galleries. Despite
his periodic headaches and dizzy spells,
life isn't too bad. A doctor says he won't
necessarily develop epilepsy.

A former hotshot editor, once quick
and randy, now ecstatic, says calmly
about his projects for the future: "Til
neither make plans for the future nor
not make plans. I'll neither do things
nor not do things. I'm learning about
my body and soul these days, but I don't
care if I'm really learning, either.” His
smile is beatific. His walk is smooth. His
heart is pure.

A former Manhattan women’s 1
tion activist has come to San Francisco
and is losing the struggle against her
sexist hang-ups. She still raises her con-
sciousness at consdousnessraising meet-
ings, and exchanges clitoral knowhow
with her sisters, but more and more she
tends to regard her husband as a human
being. She can't fight the town.

The habits of transferees from major
corporations—insurance, banking, real
estate, conglomerates left over from the
great mergers of the Sixties, advertising-
agency managers and media organizers
—are known for a certain inevitable life
direction. The pattern can be predicted.
They arrive in their Eastern J. Press or
Brooks Brothers neatness, look around
with a certain distance and hauteur at
the grayhaired, long-haired groovers,
and they swear on their honor: "Well, I
won't wear the vest. I'll wear the three
piece suit without the vest. But that’s as
far as ГЇЇ go.”

"Don't swear,” I tell them,
pious.”

Pretty soon some little State Univer-
sity of New York at Buffalo dropout, now
waitressing at the Trident or Shandygafl
while she "gets her shit together i

it's im-

to recount her life story: “Neil broke my
heart three weeks ago. Maybe I'm not a
woman, just a little girl, but my heart
breaks, too. So three weeks ago, when
Neil broke my heart, I decided”

And Mr. Media Transferee is nod-
ding, nodding, nodding. Tell me more.

A few weeks later, as he sits there still
nodding, he is wearing boots, jeans,
leather jacket, has grown a mustache,
smokes a lot of grass. "I chose a lower-
paying job to live out here,” he is telling
some girl, "because six months ago. when
my wife broke my heart, I knew 1

Its the sportscar menopause all the
way. What looked like the groovy horde,
maddened flower ghouls and warlocks is
now, in the flash of a season, just stand-
ard American to Mr. Media Transferee
He may not have qualified as а card-
carrying teenager іп 20 years. "That's no
reason for not changing his life,

1 speak with due diffidence as one of
his spiritual cousins. I have lived in
Cleveland, New York, Paris, Port-au-
Prince, Detroit and New York, with way
stations in Havana, Key West and Fort
Bragg—a tipsy itinerary, I'll admit—and
until I came to San Francisco, I always
dreamed of eventually settling in Paris,
the City of Light, where 1 had spent idle
student and dreamy bohemian years. 1
would be a stroller on both sides of the
river. In the capital of misery and the
paradise of hope would I dwell forever,
just like Villon, Carco and Sartre.

So when 1 arrived to pass a season in
San Francisco, having sublet my flat in
Greenwich Village, it was just to do a
job. І was having a play produced at the
old Actors Workshop. Hm, so this is
Frisco. 1 thought.

‘Two weeks later I phoned New York
and told my tenants to keep the place. I
was staying. I left my clothes there so
long they have come back into style. My
blue suit, fit only to wear at Stalin's
funeral, is now just right for the mid
night show at the Palace, including the
movie Reefer Madness and the Cock-
ette’ newest comeback stage presenta-
tion. 1 still have things in storage with
various friends around — Manhattan,
though I recognize the law that states
that a loan for more than a year is a
gift. Never mind those lamp shades, Jap-
anese prints and wide pants, Marcus;
they're yours.

Why? Why have 1 sold ош Paris,
abandoned Manhattan?

I'm trying to say it's fun here. Sad,
true, that one must offer to change the
name Russian Hill to Kansas
Hump in honor of the all-American
developers who are neatly blacking out
the views, so that you'll have to make
masked guerrilla raids on a tower to see

(continued on page 232)

tuning in without turning off your neighbors

GOOD HEADPHONES can be the equal of the finest speakers
made. You can also high-decibel your favorite rock or
opera or rock opera in the middle of the night without
disturbing your neighbors; they offer an opportunity to
hear fine nuances and channel separation that can be
appreciated no other way—and they do all this at a price
that’s modest when compared with the cost of even a

The Koss HV-1
stereophones are
extremely light (9

ounces, less the cord)
and have a frequency

response of 20-20,000

cycles. The eorpieces
ore of soft sponge,

Completely
isoloting the
listener from room
noises, the Sharpe

Model 770 feotures \
liquid-filled ear
cups, very low dis-
tortion, coiled
10-foot cord ond 7

mediocre pair of speakers. Increasingly more popular
with today's stereo fans, headphones can run the price
gamut from a rock-bottom five dollars for an off-brand
set to a high of around $160 for a superb pair of electro-
static phones guaranteed to deliver all ten of the audible
octaves and equal or outdo speaker systems costing ten
times as much—and which (concluded on page 230)

К

type of head-
set is offered in
Stonton's Борћозе
that uses elec-
trostatic elements
оз speakers, pro
ducing o smooth

designed sa yau con 'edjustobls headband: sound. Polarizer
heor phone or doorbell- Priced at $100, it (not shown) in- "A
Cord length is 10 has a lifetime cluded in the
feet. Cost: $40. DIEA EE $160 price. (
|
N

PHOTOGRAPHY BY BILL ARSENAULT

( A new )

155

156

IN THIS SET OF APOCALYPTIC ETCHINGS, ARTIST CHARLES BRAGG
PRESENTSHIS VISION OFMAN ASHE HAS BEEN AND AS HE MIGHT BE

HE GNOME OF DEATH
presides, it's true. We watch from a corner (overinformed
and underknowledged) while our generals hump the
planet and our priests bless them on their way (call it
the way of the cross), while lizard kings do a death-grip
waltz on the bones of the same dance done before
and the tribal legions raise their banners one against
the other, while the garbage and the bones collect
waist-deep around the men who proclaim each absurd
war holy.

And informed sources said today that God is on
our side. Although the Lord was not around to comment,
Death had this to say: “Kiss my rumpled ass and sing
power. There are no fair fights and only | can save
you from love gone wrong.” It is stylish to despair.

EY

| | ^ 45

EC
^ V d

and be damned.

Death.... No one needs
saving from love:

“Kiss your own dead ass

Still, imagination holds out—for what isn't, and
never was, but might, some say, come to be. It's a fool's
vision, perhaps, but they have found it in caves, on ruined
walls and in the notebooks of young dead poets. Dumb
dreams of the artist depicting a planet in love with itself,
where the Gnome is silly for a time. Where men can
tweak his beard and dare to be naked and vulnerable,
loving and inefficient, and without the borrowed power
of Death over one another.

It's true the Gnome has his way over man in the end;
the game isn't fair, it just is. Still, there's no reason to
serve the dark bastard, to run his errands for him, to
extend a soulless kingdom while we have the light. For
if death is his threat, life is our only revenge. Sing: "Kiss
your own dead ass and be damned. There are no real
fights among men, and no one needs saving from love."

163

PLAYBOY

164

SEDUCTION wu

despite the difference in the circum-
stances; indeed, Шеу could both be
worse in the latter case, and that sort of
thing happens every day. Probably the
commonest form of noncriminal rape is
rape by fraud—by phony tenderness or
false promises of an enduring relation-
ship, for example.

The woman who is assaulted and
raped by a total stranger may sufler less
than the woman who endures constant
humiliation at the hands of people she
is trying to know and love. The inade-
quates and psychotics who are arrested
for rape have been known to select their
victims and lie in wait for them; other
criminal rapes may involve women who
are known to or even related to their as-
lants, but for Ше most part, the selec
ion of the victim is as бога us as it
ight be in an automobile accident.
That element of haphazardness can help
ihe woman avoid permanent psychic
damage, because she is not compelled to
internalize the experience, and so to feel
guilty and soiled as a consequence of it.

One of the great injustices that the
victims of pe must suffer is
the necessity of reliving the experience
in minute detail over and over agai
from the first complaint to the police to
the last phase of the trial. By attempting
to prosecute the man who has raped her,
a woman dissociates herself from the
crime and endeavors to reconstitute her
self-esteem, but it is a rare woman who is
so independent of the evaluation of oth-
ers that she can survive the contemp-
tuous publicity that her attempt will
draw upon her. If she fails to make her
accusation stick, so that people assume
that she is malicious or hysterical or that
she enticed her rapist, she is in more seri-
ous psychic trouble before. The
odds against her succeeding in her prose-
ation, even after the police have reluc
Чу agreed to charge her assailant, are
ther worse than four to one. If a wom-
only concern is for herself and her
eventual recovery from the experience,
then she is much better advised not to
prosecute. Rape is a habitual crime,
however, and any woman who decides
mot to prosecute ought to spare a little
thought for the women who will be
ped as a consequence of her decision.
lt is true that women have attempted
to frame men for rapes that were never
committed. Some have done so out of
fear of punishment for an illicit sexual
relationship that has been discovered.
Others have done so because they need-
ed abortions, others for revenge and
other ulterior motives, for politics or
policy. Some studies of rape quote a per-
centage of phony rape charges as high as
20 percent, but important to re-
member t| the essence of the frame is
that it is public, and that a good deal is

left to the discretion of law enforcers in
deciding whether or not a woman has
been truly offended. There are not too
many profeminists in police stations.

Criminologists believe that fewer than.
one in five rapes are reported, making
rape the least reported crime on the
books. "Those figures are, 1 believe, co
servative, even within the terms of their
narrow legalistic definition, which re-
fers to the second gravest crime in the
statutes—what we might call grand rape.
The punishments for grand rape are
very savage, but it was not women who
decided long ago that rapists should be
blinded and castrated or hanged with
benefit of clergy (as they once were) or
sentenced to jail for life (as they still
are). Nevertheless, even from a woman's
int of view there are instances
rape is an injury just as serious as
homicide, and perhaps more so. A black
friend of mine spent years of passionate
effort to see that the seven white youths
who raped her when she was 16 years old
and a virgin spent the maximum time in
jail, for they ruined her life by cursing
her with a child whom she could never
leave and never love. (The wonder of it
is, of course, that a white jockocratic
court convicted on the evidence of a
black girl.)

It is in the interests of everyone in-
volved that pregnancy must not be al-
lowed to be a consequence of rape. This
means that all women claiming rape
must be entitled to abortion, long before
the offense can be proved. To wait for
any legal process is to increase the degree
of physical and mental trauma involved.
Nowadays a raped woman has a pretty
good chance of getting an abortion,
especially if she can supply reasonable
circumstantial evidence of the offense,
However, the women who are most trau-
mutized by rape are religious and shel-
tered women who are not likely to get
over their experience by the necessity of
committing what they devoutly believe
to be a mortal sin as a result of an act
committed upon their person against
their will. In cases of scrupulous reli-
gious conscience, religion can be the
woman's only consolation, but most cases
of normally muddled morality would be
best aided by the adoption of a protocol
by medical officials confronted
rape cases. One practical solution would
be to order the removal of the contents
of the womb by aspiration as part of the
diagnostic procedure. This would dimin-
ish the element of psychic intrusion and
relieve the woman of the necessity of
making a difücult moral choicc arising
out of circumstances beyond her control.
The procedure is the same as biopsy as-
piration, which is commonly practiced
and need occasion very little discomfort.

The woman who is not impregnated

with.

or physically injured as a result of rape
may nevertheless suffer acutely. The
idea, so commonly entertzined, that
women somchow enjoy rape is absolute-
ly unfounded, and a further indication
of the contempt that men feel for
women and their sex! functions. One
might as well argue that because most
men have repressed homosexual or femi-
nine elements in their personalities, they
enjoy buggery and humiliation. Women
are, as a result of their enculturatior
masochistic, but this does not mean that
they enjoy being treated sadistically, al-
though it may mean that they ur
consciously invite it. Because of this
masochism, women frequently take thc
whole burden of horror upon themselves.
I know personally of a case in which a
woman has been repeatedly raped by
her mentally retarded brother for 30
years and has never sought any protec-
tion from him because of the distress
that the knowledge would cause her par-
ents. Her struggle to cope with the situa-
tion alone has had a marked effect on
her psychic balance, and yet it is not
beyond a law-enforcement officer to
argue that she is guilty of collusion, that
she із an accomplice, in effect.

Bored policemen, amusing themselves
h girls who come to them to com-
plain of rape. often kick off the proceed-
ings by asking if they have enjoyed it.
Rapists often claim in their defense that
the prosecutrix enjoyed herself, that she
showed evidence of physical pleasure or
even had an orgasm. Most of them are
lying. Some are sincere, but men are no-
toriously incapable of judging whether or
not a woman is feeling pleasure, and
women are not so unlike men that terror.
cannot cause somethi
toms of erotic excitat
Even if a woman were to have an or-
gasm in the course of a rape, it need not
necessarily lessen the severity of the
trauma that she suffers. Th would
seem, is quite understandable in the case
of men raped by women, which, al-
though not an entity in law, is still a
possibility. Malinowski describes with
thrills of disgusted horror the rape of a
Melanesian male; if the dear evidence
of the victim's sexual excitation makes
any difference to his sense of outrage, it
is to intensify

The man is the fair game of wom-
en for all that sexual violence, ob
scene cruelty, filthy pollution and
rough handling can do to him. ‘Thus
first they pull off and tear up his
pubic leaf, the protection of his
modesty, and, to a native, the sym-
bol of his manly dignity. Then, by
masturbatory practices and exhibi-
tionism, they try to produce an егес
tion in their victim and, when their
maneuvers have brought about the
desired result, one of them squats

(continued on page 178)

PLAYBOYS
PLAYMATE REVIEU

166

Misa Auguat

Linda Summers (above) has left her job
at one of her stepfather's health-food
stores in fovor of a new vocation:
She's learning to become a real-estate
escrow officer for a firm in Chula
Vista, Colifornia, just south of San
Diego. “I'm still eating natural foods,
though,” she hastens to add. Besides
‘on-the-job training in her new position

—for which she applied on the advice
of a boyfriend in the realty business—
Linda is toking night classes at the
Union Bank in San Diego. “I love my
new work,” she told us, “though | do
miss the store. We certainly got a lot
of troffic through there after my Play-
mate story appeared in the magazine.
The customers were curious—but nice."

Misa Apnil

Vicki Peters (right) reports that she's
sharpening her photographic skills:
"I've just bought а new electric Nikon
and I'm doing а lot of shooting.” She
prefers people as subjects: “In all
honesty," she claims, “I think Га be
good at doing nudes.” While in Flori-
da on a Playmate promotion, Vicki
photographed the Sebring race, where

"people kept taking pictures of me
taking pictures; then they sent them to
me from all over the country. It wos
really a kick.” An added bonus of her
centerfold appearance: “Opportuni-
ties are opening up in acting. But I'm
going to be picky about whot | do. If
І сап! make quality films, I'd rather
keep on working behind the camera.”

3

-
ЕР,
p

Miss July

Carol O'Neal (opposite) has
abandoned her duties aé a re-
ceptionist in Chicago's Playboy
Canter io reum tojenliege At

ington, where she's completing
her sophomore year, she's ma-
joring in liberal arts. “I'm also
taking one drama course, in
advanced acting," she says.
“If ту Playmate-appearance
schedule permits, I'd like to try
out for some campus produc-
tions. In high school | was al-
ways cast as an ingénue; maybe
here | can broaden my scope."

Misa june

Debbie Davis (left) wanted to
get away from Los Angeles, so
she headed for Hawaii—to the
island of Mavi, far from the
tourist scene. "I'm staying with

a girlfriend here, in а mar-
velously ramshackle building
in the former colonial i
Lahaina," she says. "

being on another planet." In
California, Debbie's thing was
powerboats; in the islands, she
grooves on sailing and going
to the movies. "There's only
one theater here, but they
change the show every night."

169

Misa November

Lenna Sjööblom [righi)—pro-
nounced "whi-bloom," in case
you've been wondering—is
plonning to use her Playmate
modeling fee to finonce a re-
verse migration to Europe, not
to her native Sweden but to
Holland. “Гуе met a number
of Dutch people here in Chica-
go," she explains, "and found
them very easy to get clong
with. If | live іп Rotterdam,
ІШ have ту independence
but still be only о day's jour-
ney from my parents’ home,
which is near Stockholm."

Miaa Decemben

Mercy Rooney (opposite) is
busy working as а Bunny in
the Los Angeles Playboy Club
and, twice weekly, atten
three-hour classes at the Film
Actors’ Workshop on the
Warner Bros. lot. “I'm really
serious about developing what-
ever dramatic talent 1 have,”
she says, "so Im tcking
courses in comera lechnique
and acting." She's also test-
ing for television commerciols
ond was seen last month in
women’s-magazine ads for о

170 national line of bathing suits.

172

Misa Octoben

Sharon Johansen (above) has a new
pupil in her conine obedience school:
a collie belonging to singer Eddie
Fisher. Since gracing PLaYeor's gate-
fold, Sharon hes clso gone comping in
Yosemite, landed TV roles (Columbo,
Love American Style] to follow up on
her film part as o beach дігі in Your
Three Minutes Are Up with Ron Leib-

mon and Beau Bridges, and she hos
accumulated several pets. “I have a
tree house in my apartment where my
Siamese, Slinky, my poodle, Coco, and
my new gray-striped cat, Onassis,
ploy. The other night a date came
over for the first time, took one look
at my animals, turned and left, saying,
"This is too much for те.” Silly man.

Misa Manch

Ellen Michaels (right), having won her
associate in arts degree from Queens-
borough Community College, hos post-
poned her plans to go on for a B. A.
in elementary education. “ГИ probably
end up teaching, but right now I'm
encouraged by my progress in model-
here in New York City," she says.

ve had jobs in the cosmetics, fashion

and catalog fields, and | hope to land
some TV commercials." Ellen has criss-
crossed the continent from Texos to
Canada on behalf of PLAYBOY—signing
autographs and meeting the press. “It's
fun being a Playmate,” she reports.
“The only unnerving thing, to me, has
been the proposals of marriage 1
sometimes get from seventh graders.”

Misa September

Susan Miller (left) disappecred fron
view for some weeks after her debu
on PLAYBOY'S centerfold. “I've beer
enjoying myself," our 671” Ріауток
told us when we finally located he
back at her West Los Angeles home
Been doing a lot of traveling, strictly
first-class—in jets, seaplanes, helicop
ters, chauffeured limousines,” she say:

enigmatically. Eventually, she expects
to resume posing os o professional
model—although she talks of learning
to be о photo stylist. Perhops becouse
she's been modeling since her eorly
teens, when she wos discovered sun-
ning on the beach by оп agent, Susan
rejects the pressure of a full-time job.
"Thot," she soys, “just isn't my bo:

Miaa May
Deanna Baker's dream—of buying
some property in the mountoins ond
going bock to noture—is in the prac-
ess of coming true, thonks to the
money she eamed os с Playmote and
os a Bunny in the Denver Playboy
Club, o career she hos now forsoken.
“It's jus! too for to commute to the
city from here," she told us over the

telephone fram her house on an acre
near the continentol divide, north-
west of the Colorado capitol. Deanna
has an option to buy the land, and she
ond some friends have established the
Space Cily Custom Furniture Compony,
which manufactures hand-toaled pine
tables, chairs ond water-bed fromes—
stuff she describes os “funky rustic.”

175

176

Misa Febnuany

P. J. Lansing (right), unlike
Deanna, has chucked Colorado
and opted for the urban scene
—in her case, Chicago, where
she's employed as a Bunny at
the new Playboy Club. “I
really enjoy living in Chicoga,"
P. J. says. "There's such a vari-
ety of things to do, so many
places to go. | particularly en-
joy the wide selection of French
restaurants.” When she's not
Bunny hopping in the Club,
P. J. makes personal appeor-
ances for pLaysoy—ond hos en-
rolled in a photography course.

Miss Januany

Marilyn Cole (opposite) has
taken up а new hobby: riding
“I've just gotten this big white
gelding, Seamus,” she told us.
“After | become sure enough as
ап equestrienne, | want 10 try
riding to hounds.” Since her
PLAYBOY appearance, Marilyn
has been much in demand as a
model in and around London;
she's also been able to indulge
her fondness for travel, via
trips ta the United States, brief
vacations in Greece and Mo-
rocco ond a winter skiing
holiday in the Swiss Alps.

/
T,
A

PLAYBOY

SEDUCTION (continued from page 164)

over him and inserts his penis into
her vagina. After the first ејасша-
tion he may be treated in the same
manner by another woman. Worse
things are to follow. Some of the
women will defecate and micturate
all over his body, paying special at-
tention to his face, which they pol-
lute as thoroughly as they can. "A
man will vomit, and vomit, and vom-
it" said a sympathetic informant.

For Malinowski the trauma is directly
connected with loss of dignity and oblit-
eration of the individual's will, at which
his body actually connives. Women, too,
have been known to vomit and vomit,
to wash themselves compulsively, to burn
their clothes, even to attempt suicide,
after a rape. Nightmares, depression,
pathological shyness, inability to leave
the house, terror of darkness, all have
been known to develop in otherwise
healthy women who have been raped.

Malinowski was writing from the
point of view of the rapee. The injury
for him lay not in an outrage to his tu-
tors and guardians, nor in injury to his
body. nor in an unwanted pregnancy,
but somewhere even more fundamental,
in his will, and thence in his ego, his dig-
nity. In this perspective the legalistic
category of grand rape fades into unim-
portance. Sexual rip-offs are part of every
woman's daily experience; they do not
have the grati
ter, with the special reconstructive ener-
gies that disasters call forth. They simply
wear down the contours of emotional
contacts and gradually brutalize all
those who are party to them. Petty rape
corrodes a woman's self-esteem so that
she grows by degrees not to care too
much what happens or how. In her low
moments she calls all men bastards; she
enters into new relationships with suspi-
cion and a forlorn hope that maybe this
time she will get a fair deal. The situa-
tion is selfperpetuating. The treatment
she most fears she most elicits. The re-
sults of this hardening of the heart are
eventually much worse than the conse-
quences of fortuitous sexual assault by a
stranger, the more so because they are in-
ternalized, insidious and imperceptible.

Тһе idea that a woman has merely to
consent, or to give in to sexual contact,
provides the basic motivation for petty
rape. Silence or failure to resist is fur-
ther misconstrued аз consent. Then, by
a further ramification of blunder, passive
silence is thought to indicate pleasure.
The breakdown in sexual communica-
tions occasioned by acceptance of these
related vulgar errors can be illustrated
by an example.

A young Cambridge undergraduate at
a party in London missed his last train

178 back to Cambridge and so asked around

the party for a bed for the
male guest, who lived nearby, said he
might use her spare room, unconcerned
by the fact that her husband was away,
for the young man and all his family
were well known to them. She duly
drove him to her apartment, where clean
towels and pajamas were laid out for
him, and he was wished a good night's
rest in the spare room. She had had a lot
to drink at the party and was feeling
giddy and rather ill, so she was grateful
to slide between the sheets and pass
quietly out.

It was beneath young Lochinvar's dig-
nity to stay in his room, though, and his
hostess was just slipping through rather
swirling veils of sleep when he climbed
into the bed beside her. She resisted, but
there was little point in making much
to-do; having the police called to the
apartment would have made a scandal,
upset everybody and left her in a ridicu-
lous situation. The law would take only
one view of an unaccompanied married
"woman's invitation to a young man to
stay the night, regardless of the fact that
Victorian sexual paranoia is gradually
ebbing in other areas. She scolded and
pleaded, exaggerated the degree of her
drunkenness and even resorted to being
sick, but the young man's ego would give
no quarter. Like a Fascist guard in Mus-
Italy, he woke her every time her
eyelids began to close. Then he made his
little show of force. She offered only
passive resistance and so got fucked.

It was, of course, a terrible fuck. She
was exhausted, distressed and mutinous;
he was deeply inconsiderate and cruel,
although he fancied himself a nipple
twiddler and general sexual operator
and believes to this day that he gave her
the fucking of her life. He has boasted
of his conquest just often enough so that
his talking about it has come to her ears
and reduced her to a state of misery. She
has never told her husband what hap-
pened because of the sheer unlikeliness
that he would exonerate her from any
taint of desire for the little shit, however
nobly he decided to behave. Worst of
all, she must see her enemy frequently at
dinners and parties in friends’ houses
and endure his triumph over her time
and time again. She has not allowed the
circumstances to corrode her self-esteem
to any serious extent, but her enemy
cannot lay the fact to his credit.

What happened is just one of the zil-
lions of forms of petty rape. There is no
punishment and no treatment for of-
fender nor victim in a case like this. It
just has to be crossed off as another
minor humiliation, another devaluation
of the currency of human response. The
woman in this instance revenged herself
by s of
friends, but he hardly noticed. His ac

count of the affair, needless to say, is very
different from hers.

The attitude of the rapist in such an
example is not hard to interpret in
terms of the prevailing sexual ideology.
A man is, after all, supposed to seduce,
to cajole, persuade, pressurize and even-
tually overcome. А reasonable man
will avoid threats, partly because he has
a shrewd idea that they will not produce
the desired result. A psychotic rapist is
quite likely to desire fright and even
panicstricken resistance and struggle as
a prerequisite to his sexual arousal or
satisfaction. But пос your everyday pusil-
lanimous rapist. He simply takes advan
tage of any circumstances that are in his
favor to override the woman's independ-
ence. The man who has it in his power
to hire and fire women from an interest-
ing or lucrative position may profit by
that factor to extort sexual favors that
would not spontaneously be offered him.
A man who is famous or charismatic
might exploit those advantages to humil
iare women in ways that they would oth-
erwise angrily resist. In cases like these,
mutual contempt is the eventual out-
come, but what the men do not real-
ize is that they are exploiting the
oppressed and servile status of women
The women’s capitulation might be ig-
noble, but it is morally more excusable
than the cynical manipulation of their
susceptibility.

One of the elements that is often
abused in the petty-rape situation is the
woman's affection for the rapist. This
might not even be a completely nonsex
ual affection: There is a case on record
in Denyer in which a woman who was
brutally raped explained to the judge
that she would have been quite happy to
ball with her assailant if he had asked
her nicely, but as soon as they got into
her apartment, he beat her up and
raped her. The parallel in petty rape is
the exploitation of a woman's tender
ness, which would involve eventual sex-
val compliance, for a loveless momentary
conquest. Because a woman likes a man
and would like to develop some sort of
relationship with him, she is loath to
make trouble when he begins to prose.
cute his intentions in an offensive way.
Her enemy takes cold-blooded advantage
of that fact. For lots of girls who slide
into promiscuity, this is the conflict in
which they are defeated time and time
again.

In all but the most sophisticated com-
munities, a young woman who wishes to
participate in the social life of her gener
ation must do so as a man's guest. Dat-
ing is a social and economic imperative
for her. This situation is the direct result
of her oppressed condition, and however
venal her motives may seem to be, she is
not totally responsibic for them. For her
the pressure is disguised as pressure to
fall in love and go steady; he may see it

(continued on page 224)

“Cancel my appointments. Рт breaking in a new gift wrapper."

179

180

Head of a famous circus family, Wal-
lenda has spent a lifetime on high, taut
wires. His family goes up with him
in dangerous combinations, Spectacular
falls have killed some of the troupe. The
rest stay with him.

1 HAVE no personal fears. When your
number is up. your number is up. My
daughter is afraid to fly in an airplane
because—who knowsz—it might be the
pilots number that's up.

Of course, I know it is dangerous. The
accident in Detroit came at the end of a
seven-person pyramid. God knows what
caused it. You can't question the dead
and the young шап who gave way is
dead. It was not our fault: it was not
the fault of the wire apparatus. Every-
thing was in good shape. We never knew
why the boy couldn't hold it anymore
He must have panicked, or he had

pinched nerve, or went dizzy. There are
so many reasons.
My youngest brother died in July

1936, the first time he ever used a net
We'd had a big accident and 1 was in
the hospital. 1 said. “Look, you can take
Ш my apparatus, but you have to use a
net.” I was here in America at the time
АП I heard was that he fell from the
high wire into the net and bounced out
onto the concrete floor and died.

From then on, 1 said, “Well, now it's
happened." That was our first fatality—
with a net. Now I say what has w
ppen has to happen.

This last accident had nothing to do
with the high wire. | was working on
her's husband,
who was very wanted to help
me; he wanted to climb up that pole
Unfortunately, he touched. one of the
high hightension clamps. There was

y from the pole—thar was not
ated and he touched
with my own eyes. I w
daughter saw her husband falling: she
screamed to me, "Daddy." 1 thought
that the whole thing was elecuric and we
would all get killed. 1 didn't know how
to get oll. I was standing about 70 feet
up in the air and everybody said. "Don't
come to the pole, don't touch the pole.
You'll be electrocuted.” So we shut all
the lights off and 1 had to go down that
pole in the dark to save myself.

But you go right back. It's the only
thing to do. Just like my daughter did,
the next day. And she was thinking
about her children, too. It's only the
survivors you can do good for. When the
good Lord tells me 1 have to quit, then
ГІ quit. But I haven't thought about
I can't say ГЇЇ perform another six
months, 1 can't say if ll do it another
ten years. 1 hope [ will.

symposium

Palance has played just about every
kind of movie badman. Alan Ladd fi-
nally outdrew him in "Shane" and killed
evil itself. Tired of his image, Palance
has been taking roles that lampoon his
earlier, menacing characters.

FOR ACTORS theres always fear. Even
alter your most sensational success,
youre constantly thinking of something

ing up. So many actors sit
around thinking about the one role. I
ching 70 and

difficult.
“What is your

very when somebody asks,
favorite role?” Because

ts you've played seem dead.

all those

It’s like going into the gr
pid

ng ош. a corpse and s
ther than somet
something coming out. But il you don't
give somebody an answer to a question
like that, he thinks you're putting him
оп. You're not really. What you've done
is totally meaningless, nothing. This
crushes an awful lot of people. The sui-
cides. Like Marilyn Monroe. Marilyn
wanted to be recognized as an actress
rather than аз a sensuous, erotic freak.
I'm sure women—a lot of women actors
ае terribly afraid of getting old, be-
so few women go gracelully into
ter roles. Men can bridge this a
little better. If there is a bridge to travel
on at all. И there's another role.

The telephone. 1 did a painting re-
cently—I paint infrequently, but 1 did
painting of a man siting in а very dark
room behind a window. Outside is the
sun, beautiful trees and g
sini e in a strait jacket, whistling.
And beside him is this enormous thing
he's looking at, and you know this
is а telephone. I call the painting
The Actor. He's waiting for the tele
phone to ring. He's tied to it and the
telephone cord goes to his navel.
is it The world of an
most actors. The telephone must ring—
gent desperately trying to get
producer, to the money people. It’s an
actor's life. W's like he's wrapped
a telephone pole.

ad he's

an a

ound

Henry has been head of the Missis-
sippi NAACP for over ten years. His
home and office have been bombed and
threats on his life don't even worry him
anymore. Still - . . he doesn't drive
around. Mississippi alone.

1 кхо I live in a situation where any
white man in the state can shoot me
down any
will happen ıo him. And, man. that's
not easy to get off your mind. So I guess
living with fear is sort of like learning to
live with a broken leg

There's no question: The most fright-
ened I have ever been was the night
they bombed my house and set it afire.

lay of the week—and nothing

1 was really afraid that night, because
they bit my daughters room. The
flames had engulfed the room and there

was smoke everywhere: | couldn't find
her and she couldn't find me. We were
screaming for cach other and 1 though
“My God, I've killed my only child with
my ideas.” But when we finally met in
the smoke and clasped each other and 1
got her outside, out of the danger of the
explosion and fire, you know, that. fear
like all the others before it,
But for a few agonizing minutes I was
overcome completely with fear and ]
probably came closer to losing control
than at any time in my life.

1 guess my other great fear c

was gone

me dur-

ing the Sixties, when we were doing a lot
of marching. I had been jailed after a
in with the chiel of police. They

told me that they were worried about
security. Like some damn lynch mob wa
going to come get me. So they decided to
transfer me 10 а jail in another county

and they wouldn't even tell my wife
where they were carrying me. There
were 12 or 15 blacks outside the jail whe

they brought me
wrapped in cha
didn’t know where I
up—in the river, across the railroad
tracks, or where. I knew I couldn't de-
fend myself and it was а damn helpless

ош with my body
locked. Now, I
going to end

keling. Damn helpless.
Luckily. | had established a rapport
with the Kennedys and Bobby Kennedy

called the sheriff of our county and said.
"Fm holding you responsible for his
safety." I think that call is perhaps why I
am alive today, Because they had no т
son to walk me out of the jail in chains
unless they had something che іп mind
But even then 1 knew that freedom is
to some degree bought with blood. You
sec, it's not that you're afraid, it’s what
you can do even though you are afraid
You can’t let it get you. You'd back up
every time.

whatever it is you are:
fighter pilot, high-wire
stroller, heart surgeon...

... Something is out there
waiting, and if it doesn’t
do you in, it will at least

scare the hell out of you

Adair developed a simple method for
putting out oil-well fires: Get close and
plant an explosive that staves the
flames. It’s made him а lot of money;
but then, he hasn't had any competition
for 30 years.

rea A lot of jobs we get into—
whether they're in Sumatra or the Middle
st or wher —Pyou've got a lot more

to копу about than fires. Rebels, for in-
stance. You're more afraid of those guys
than you are of the fires or explosions.
Over im Libya, theyd blown up four
wells and when we were going in there
to blast ош the fires, we got buzzed by
а never know
via during the Bia-
fan war, working just a few miles
from the front lines. And if that wasn't
h, we had to worry about witch
doctors. They're still there, you know.
They come up with their followers, You
don't talk back to them, IH tell you that.
I guess I came the closest on New
Years Day in 1053. 1 was crushed by a
big dragline and they gave me up for
dead. They took me hack to the hospital
and couldn't get a heartbeat or any-
thing. But I could hear them talkin
could hear everything they said, but I
couldn't move anything to let them
know. 1 was afraid they were going to
pull that sheet over my head. And I
tied, man, I wied ıo move anything, an
id, a finger, anything, The doctor
е me shots and 1 could hear them

aking. Then they got a little heartbeat.
That's a weird feeling.

There's a lot to worry about, We've
1 sharks to contend with in the Red
a, leopards in the jungles of Mozam-
ad poisonous snakes im Guate-
Had them all. But the one thing 1
illy worry about, a really worry.
is the way some of those guys drive when
they're taking you to a well fire. They're
Il excited a and they get to
driving faster and faster. Hell, you finally
just have to say, “Slow down before you
Kill us all.”

nd nervou

PHOTOGRAPHY BY ООН AZUMA

RODIN OLDS, U.5.R.F.

Olds finished first іп 17 dogfights. He
shot down 13 German planes in World
War Two and still had the touch 20
years later. One more MIG kill. and
he'd have been Vietnam's first асе. He
was unhappy about missing Korea,

IN WORLD WAR TWO, I was very young,
tremendously eager, and 1 knew I was a
коой pilot. There were times when I was

very excited—times when I might have
a momentary tightening of the stomach
muscles, constriction of the throat. or

whatever. But things happen so quickly
nd you're so damned busy coping that
you really "t got time to sit there
and be afraid. Fear comes at night when
you're alone, when you're dropping olf
to sleep. and that takes on а more—to
изе а word I'm not sure. of—mordant
. . anyway, a deeper thing of dread
And this builds and builds and builds
Thad a roommate who was that way, and
sur 1, it happened: he was killed.
But I never let myself think things like
that. I was shot at and missed and shot
at and hit quite a bit in World War
Two. There were wild ; like get
ting hit very, very solidly strafing an air
field. Pieces of your airplane are lying
off, and you're knocked upside down
right above the ground, going like the
hammers of hell, and you manage to
extricite yourself and roll out and try
to gei nd you get slammed again.
You know it is g you may not
have time to be frightened—but by God,
they certainly have got your attention.
When I first took over my wing in
Vietnam, the big talk wasn’t about the
MIGs but about the SAMs. I'd
airplanes before, but those damn
When I saw my first one,
there were a few seconds there of sheer
panic, because thats a most impressive
ght 10 see that thing coming at you.
You feel like fish about to be h:
pooned. You go to bed at night
whether you like it or not, you
dream about that damn thing. I'd wake
up at the bottom of my bed. dodging the
mn things. 1 had ove
nd never got used to it. 1 got
гу. If you're just one or two seconds
olf, you've had the schnitzel. In Vietnam
I did the same thing I had in World
r Two, lived one day at a time, The
only things you were interested in were
flying. eating and drinking. You do a lot
of drinking. If you didn’t, you couldn't
sleep at night, because all these things
were going through your head, whether
they were aggressive thoughts or not—so
strongly you couldn't go to sleep. So
about three good belts of Scotch, sleep
like a baby, you're up six hours later
and ready to go ag;

seen

DENTON COOLEY, M.D.

To keep his patients alive, Cooley
has tried а number of radical surgical
techniques. He was one of the first to
experiment with artificial. heart valves;
he performed one of the first successful
heart transplants in this country.

PEOPLE Ask how a man can get ac
customed to seeing flesh and. blood. Bu
it doesn’t bother you to make a thre
foot incision in a patient. It's а matte
of building up tolerance to sometl
In the beginning.
thing to actually go
goes <c

мо а pat
ау time your experience in-
creases. Routine things you just take in
stride. But as you get imo more difi-
cult problems to handle si
fear other things: the death of a p
particularly on the i
is one.

At first the
tomy
what

most routine appendec-
а very шіррінд experience
nade my heart race and made me
break out in a cold sweat. At the present
time, my threshold of fear has bee
raised to the point where it takes some-
thing like a hearevalve ring that will
not hold suture—where Шеге is a dis-
tinct possibility that you'll never get the
valve seated and that it will float
out once you get the heart started—o
create (сағ in me.

So, even today, there are

was

nes when

the uneasy feeling returns to me. The

first valve and the first transplant—both
of these things—brought it back. Every
my whole career, was on the line.
1 think 1 came away from it in good
shape, but I had no way of knowing just
xl on my feet

how I would be able io
if it had been a total fiasco.

When we did the first heart trans
plant, we had the heart all sewed in
place, then the moment came to restore
the circulation to the coronary. system
and wait for the hei its re
sponse, The anticipation was so great
that defeat or failure at that time would
have been a real catastrophe for eve

tton

the loss or the death of the p
tients die all the time from heart disease
—but I would have opened myself 10
serious criticism if it had been a failure,
and my judgment would have been ques

tioned. Bur I think we ha certain
responsibility to develop some new
things to challenge some of the old rule:

and regulations . . , and not just leave it
to some subsequent generation of physi
ike these discoveries,

183

PLAYBOY

184 Eve. He tui

INSIDE OUTSIDE COMPLEX

s onc cube of light and, the window
being slightly raised above the avenue,
he could see the scattered windows of
other cozy little houses coming awake all
over the town. An hour earlier, he might
have been able to sce the bruise-blue
ic of the Trish I could live
one of those little houses out th
he turned to look at her uncertainly
—like a painter turning from easel to
model, from model to сазе, wondering
which was the concoction and which was
the truth.

“Well?” she asked impatiently.

His eye helicoptered over her cheap
Turniture. Ten seconds sufficed, Не
looked at her coldly. If he were outside
there now on the pavement, looking in
at her rosy lamplighting. . . .

There is" she sid defensively,
тог."

She opened the leaves of large folding
doors in the r . led him into the
flooded it with ligh
An electric machi
skew on the wall, a long dea
strewn with scattered bits of m
lores wire dummy and, incongruous-
ly, over the empty fireplace, a lavish ba-
roque mirror, deeply beveled, sunk in a
swarm of golden fruit and flowers,
carved wood and molded gesso. Spanish?
Italian? It could be English. It might,
rarest of all, be Irish. Not a year less
than 200 years old. He flung his arms up
to itin un ined excitement.

"And you said you had nothing!
She's a beauty! I'd be delighted to buy
this pretty bauble from yo

She sighed at herself in her mirror.

“I did not say I had nothing, Mr. Bol-
ger. I said I had nothing for you. My
mirror is not for sale. It was my hus
band's engagement present to me. He
bought it at an auction in an old house
in Wexford. It was the only object of
any interest in the house, so there were
no dealers present. He got it for five
pounds

He darted to it through an en
groan. He talked at her through it.
Structurally? Fine. A leaf missing
here. A rose gone there. Some scoundrel
dotted it here and there with com-
mercial gold paint. And somebody
done worse. Somebody's been cleaning
it. Look here and here and here at the
white gewo coming through the gold
leaf It could cost а pounds for
old leaf to do it all ov n. Have
you," he said sharply to her in the mir
ror, "been cleaning it?”

1 confess 1 tried. But I stopped when
I saw that chalky stuff. coming through.
1 did, honestly.

He considered her avidly in the fr.
So appealing in her contrition, a fallen
ed to her behind him. How

jou

в
hund

nc.

(continued from page 112)

strongly bi and bold she was! Bold as
brass. No question—two women!

“Mrs. Benson, have you any idea what
this mirror is worth?

She hooted at h ly.

“Three times what you would offer
ne as a bu nd three times that aga
for what you would ask as a selle

Го conceal his delight in her tough-
ness, he put on a sad face,
ady! Nobody trusts poor old B. В.
But you don't know how the game goes
I look at that mirror and 1 say to myself,
“How long will I wait to get how much
for um? I “Price, опе hundred
pounds. and I sell it inside а month. 1
sty, Price, two hundred рош and I
have to wait six months. Think of my
overheads for six months! If I were li
ing in London and I said. ‘Price, three
hundred pounds,” Id sell it inside a
week. If I lived in New York, 1 could
Price, fifu hundred dollars" and
sell it in а day. If I lived on a coral
sland, it wouldn't be worth two coco-
nuts. That mirror has no absolute value.
То you its priceless because it has
memories. I respect you for that, Mrs.
Benson. What's life without memories?
TII give you ninety pounds for it."

‘They were side by side, in her mirror,
in her room, in her life. He could sec
her still smiling at him. Pretending she
was sorry she had cleaned it? Putting it
they do! And

on. They do, yeh know

they change, oho, they change. Catch her
being sorry for anything. Smiling now

like a girl c

nt delight.

“It is not fo
re not on

е, Mr. Bolger. My
mories the market. That
is not a mirror. It is a picture. The da
my husband bought it. we stood side
by side and he said,” she laughed at
the mirror, " "We're not a. bad-looking
рап?”

He stepped sideward ош of her
memories, keeping her framed.

“ГИ give you a hundred quid for i
couldn't possibly sell it for more than a
hundred. and fifty. There
ny people in Dublin who know the
ue of a mirror like yours. The most 1
can make is twenty-five percent. You аге
a dressmaker. Don't you count on m
ing twenty-five percent? Where аге you
from?" he asked, pointing eagerly.

"Fm а Ryan from Tipperary,” she

laughed, taken by his eagerness, laugh
ing the louder when he cried that he was
Tipp man himself.
"Then you are no true Тірре
n if vou don't make fifty percent!
What about it? Tipp to Tipp. А
hundred guineas? A hundred and ten
guineas? Going, going. . . 2"

“It is not for sale," she said with a
dipped finality. “It is my husband's mir
ror. It is our mirror. lt will always be

ато" and he surrendered to the
уаһу she was staring
As she closed the door on his de-
parture, there passed benween them Ше
smiles of equals who. in other circum-
stances, might have been friends. He
walked away, exhilarated. quite satisfied.
He had got rid of his fancy. She had not
come up to his dream, He was cured.
The nest Sunday afternoon, bowle
». scarfed. standing
askew behind her pillar. the red lamp
«d for him, would now always glow,
the dark head of Mrs. Benson,
esed dressmaker, born in
munch-

nglish biscuit, r
her civil
How appe
cory path of habit

ng! She has beaten
nd he lusts to have

it, to have her, to own her, at least to
sha

е her. "I сап make antiques, but I
rt make age; 1 could buy the most
worn old house in Ireland and would I
own one minute of its walls, trees, tones,
moss, slates, gravel, rust, lichen, aging?
And he remembered the old lady in a
king house in Westmeath, filled w
18th Century stuff honeycombed by
woodworm, who would not sell him
much as a snuffbox because, "Mr.

Bulgey, there is not а pebble in my
garden but. has its story.”
Bray. For sale. Small modern. bunga-

low. Fully furnished. View of sca. Com
plete with ample widow attached to the
front doorknob, Fingerprints alive all
over the house. He pushed the gate
open. smartly leaped her steps, rang.

А fleck of biscuit clung childishly to
her lower lip. Her delicately
Hoated face as
ly as а past thought across

defective beyond

disconcerting

present surprise
"Not you ag

avishly

“Mrs. B.! I have a proposition.”

“Mr. B.! I do not intend to sell you

and she laughed

B! I do not want й. What I
have to propose will take exactly two

She sighed, looked. far. To
the night sea?
"For two minutes? Very well. But not
one second more!
She shows him into the living room
and, weakening—in the name of hospi
tality? of Tipperary? of country ways?—
she goes into the recesses of her home
for an extra cup. In sole possession of her
merior, he looks under the vast u
brella of the dusk, out over the pi
tured encampment of roofs. Could 1 live
here? Why docs this bloody room never
look the same from the inside and the
outside? Live here? Always? It would be
remote. Morning train to Dublin, In the
evenings, this, when I had tarted it up a
bit, made it as cozy inside as it looks
from the outside.
(continued on page 211)

ne

= ТТЕ
(ГИТ;
"ЕГІ

article By GALVIN THILLIN

turning witnesses to
jelly, our would-be belli
puts on a dazzling dis-
. play of legal acumen—
` and sometimes even
avoids losing his shirt

When I was in college, I
thought about going to law
school, until someone in a
movie I saw said, “I'll have
my lawyer draw up the pa-
pers.” It was Clark Gable, ог
someone equally in command
of the situation. Having closed
his deal man to man, Clark
began to stride toward the
door, casually tossing off that
final line as he jammed on his
hat. I suddenly realized what
a lawyer would be left with
to say under similar circum-
stances: "Now I'll have to go

ILLUSTRATION BY NEIL ADAMS

PLAYBOY

186 with an employee of Macy's custome

back to the office and draw up the god-
damned paper

When my family suggested to me that
I might go to law school, I said, in a
tone that was meant to approximate
Clark Gable's way of dealing with such
suggestions, “I'm no papersdraw-upper."
That closed the subject for me and left
them, 1 think, more convinced than ever
that law school would have been a good
idea, since eccentricity is always more
acceptable in а professional man.

I don't really regret not hi
degree—as it happens, a fri
who owns a computa-proj
lege
me an honorary degree in anythi
ume I want it—and I certainly dont
regret not having to draw up the god-
damned papers. But when my mind
wanders, 1 have to admit, it often slides
to à stop in front of a vision of me as the
shrewdest courtroom operator. of them

There I am, pacing back and forth
in a three-piece suit—an elegant suit,
but not so elegant as to give the jury
the impresion 1 am putting on airs.
With my cutting crossexamination I am
transforming the previously self-assured
ыйл ог my opponent into instant
n ics. 1 am summing up my case with
өріс and deeply moving cloquence, 1
am constantly saying, "May it please the
court" 1 am making the fine points. A
fantasy lawyer? Certainly. But it's not
all fantasy: Sometimes I sue.

1 now realize that during the first few
years of my jous practice іп New
York the legal advice 1 handed out
casually at parties was not always pre-
cisely appropriate—since I had picked
up most of my law in the carly Sixties
while sitting in Federal courts in the
South as a reporter covering the race

story, my advice would have bcen pre-
cisely appropriate only for those people
whose personal lega] problem w
to desegregate

as how
school district—but. my
npressive that nobody
seemed to notice. If someone mentioned
that, say, the alum ng he had
contracted to have installed on his house
at horrifying expense had reacted to its
first exposure to rain by sliding slowly
and gracefully to the ground, I would
say something like, “Well, 1 think the
thing to do would be to get
restrain
schedule
manent
doen't work, you could s
a writ of manda

kicked up to the Fifth Circuit. ive
it is generally accepted in legal circles
that I was the first person ever to cite
Brown vs. Board of Education as a prece:
dent for the awesome damages that could
he collected from а department store t
delayed the delivery of a floor lamp—
а position 1 took during a conversation

temporary
g order on that umil you can
show

ause hearing on a per-

relations department in 1964.

shing that in the
Federal court of the Southern District of
New York a man of my legal knowledge
was permitted to serve as a juror with
ordinary laymen. Anybody with an ex
tensive legal background, after all,
obviously exert disproportionate i
ence on the other jurors. The w
happened was that I did my best durin;
the examination of prospective jurors
(the voir dire, as we litigators say) to
pretend that 1 was an ignorant layman
myself. I figured that being left on the
jwy and given an opportunity to ol

serve its deliberations firsthand would
be invaluable preparation for the day
when I would be trying а case before a
jury myself. When one of the lawyer

asked me where I lived, for instance,
I refrained [rom saying "Perhaps you
would like to refresh your recollection
by consulting the card in front of you —
сусп though I had waited for years to
invite someone in court to refresh his
recollection, since the vision that the
phrase always brought to my mind was
of a tired, gray old memory suddenly
being transformed into a memory fresh
nd green as a Salem ad.

can

tried not to overwhelm the lay jurors
with any dazzling displays of legal acu-
men. When the plaintiil’s lawyer told
us in his opening statement that the case
we were about to hear involved a train,
I decided against interrupt
him that everyone was perfectly aware
of the Supreme Court's reversal of its
Plessy vs. Ferguson ruling on separate
but equal facilities for railroad-coach
passengers—which was just as well, since
the case, as it turned out, did not
cern the constitutionality of segregation
on trains in Louisiana but the possibili-
ty of a whiplash injury during a derail-
ment in New Jersey. The plaintill,
young man who had studied the violin,
claimed that the accident had shattered
at might have been a lucrative con-
cert career, and the defense lawyer im-
plied that the accident had given the
plaintiff an excuse to abandon a musical
career whose financial rewards probably
would have depended on how gener-
ous people emerging Bom the Times
Square subway station were feeling to-
«some carnest but screechy fiddler
sawing away on 42nd Seet.

І was not impressed with the pl
although professional cour-
tesy kept me from showing my disdain
during the trial. He obviously had the
same idea E had about not appearing in
court in clothes that made him seem
flashy. He was wearing a plain gray suit
and a striped tie and a white button-
down shirt. But somehow he looked su
piciously flashy anyway—as И his wile
had to station herself at the front door

w

of their house on courtroom mornings
so that she could strip off 1 mond
wrist watch and make him change his
white-on-white shirt (the one he always
wore with his cightounce gold culf
links) and send him back to wash the
stickum out of his hair. Also, he made
no fine points at all. And he didn’t say
May it please the court" once.
Not long after the jury had begun its
deliberations, I realized that keeping
legal knowledge to myself would ha
amounted to dereliction of duty. One
elderly woman on the jury had an
nounced that she refused to render а
verdict on the case one way or the other.
She explained that the violinist had not
proved that he was injured
but the railroad had not proved that he
wasn't. She considered the case a draw.
The other jurors, not being accustomed
to offering cogent explanations of leg
points, could not seem to persuade her
that the violinist, as the party su
the one who had to demonstrate :
“ИГІ may explain, madam,” 1 finally
said, rising fom my chair and begin-
ning to pace up and down the jury
room—which was not easy, since the
tables and chairs left practically по pac
ing space—"what you have failed to

in the wreck,

understand is the concept of "burden of

proof.” It is a concept fundamental to
our system of jurisprudence. In every
case brought to court, one party has the
burden of proof. In criminal cases, the
prosecution must prove its case beyond
а reasonable doubt. In civil cases, such
s the one we are now considering, the
plaintif must prove his case by thc
preponderance of evidence. Therefore,
the violinist must present more evidence
than the railroad presents—demonstrat
ing that he was, indeed, injured during
the train wreck in question and that said
injury did constitute cause for а loss
of income, as well as what we call pain
and sullering. Thank you very much.
1 returned to my chair and sat down.
The jurors looked quite
pressed. The woman stared at me for a
Jong time. “That's your opinion,"
finally said.
nd a half hours later, despite
ard me repeat my cogent legal
explanation approximately 60 times, she
remained unconvinced. I was no longer

p im-

she

“Burden
Burden of

1 shouted at her.
mned. proof, lady!
yone's entitled to their opinion
But fair's Гай

she said.

My entire practice changed wher
realized that what I should be talking
about to Macys and other New York
bureaucracies was not Brown vs. Board
of Education but smallelaims court.

(continued on page 190)

artist-superfan

leroy neiman tackles
the beauties and

the “beasts” of pro
footballs biggest bowl

_ man at
his leisure

SUPER BOWL. There were nearly
30,000 empty Los Angeles Coliscum seats
at the first Super Bowl in 1967, and the
hero of Ше game—between the
Bay Packers and the Kı
was an aging pass rec ned Max
McGee, whose previous reputation was
for moves he had used to escape from
the Packer training camp after curfew.
The event has since become a certain
sell-out, and there have been many more
surprising heroes and unlikely moments.
Baltimore quarterback Earl Могай was
very bad when he was expected to be
good, and very good, two years later,
when he was expected to do little more
than hold for extra points. Johnny Sam-
ple and Tom Nowatzke have been Super
Bowl stars, while Mel Renfro, Duane
Thomas and Johnny Unitas have, some.
where along the line, been goats of var-
ious sizes. But no one has dominated
a Super Bowl the way Joe th did
. The Jets’ viciory that year,
although considered a fluke by some,
gave future bowls an element of -un- (sd
predictability that had been missing
from the first two
LeRoy Nein

gato

Floats, jets in formation ond, most important, pretty girls ore oll essenticl to o Super
Bowl. Above: A petite baton twirler stops to inspect a large foctboll player. Left: Neiman
heods for o suitable spot to sketch other side-line attractions. His resulting drawing is below.

mes. PLAYBOY'S e. үү
has watched and painted е

his impressions of three Super Bowls and
agrees that, so far, the Jets
remains the most significant, “
Jets’ artist in residence that i
flew down to Miami with the team. Na-
math had everyone from Baltimore so
furious. because of his statements to the
press, that Colts followers were absolutely
fanatical. As the Jets’ buses pulled into

m parking lot on the day of the
game, we saw a mob of Colts fans waiting
at the Iocker-room entrance, They started
pounding on the bus and trying to shake
it while policemen were making а corri-
dor from the bus to the lockerroom
door. Somebody yelled, ‘Let Joe go first’
and th said, ‘Yeah. Good idea.’ The
crowd wasn't prepared for him to be the
first one out, so by the time they could

react, he was in the locker room.” Last
year, perhaps to avoid kind of
scene, Dallas players took taxis to the sta-
dium. "But that didn't work so smoothly,
either. Four or five players, including
quarterback Staubach, got caught in
traffic and very nearly missed the kick-
off. Watching the teams warm up before
the game, I asked Calvin Hill to point
out Duane Thomas. He did and I began
tO sketch. A few moments later, Hill
came back and said. “1 made a mistake.
That's not "Thomas! He pointed to an-
other player and said, "That's Thomas
over there.’ I thought maybe Thomas
ted himself so much his teammates
im. But during the
ig to everybody on
the bench. In fact, the Cowboys" bench
was fantastically noisy throughout the
game. I walked over to the Dolphins’
side once, but it was so depressing over
there, I left immediately. АП in all. how-
ever, the atmosphere of а Super Bowl is
far from depressing for the impartial fan.
and that, with the exception of 1969, is
what I am. But I do wish they'd play the
game in one of the competing teams’
cities. It would scem less contrived if
they did it that way" Eventually they
will perhaps, but this year the game
returns to Los Angeles, site of the first
Super Bowl, and it's а good bet there
won't be 30,000 empty seats this time.

PLAYBOY

game, he

Right: Dallas’ Roger Staubach sets to poss
over Miami defenders. Neimon's field-
level perspective capture:

choas one senses wotcl
fram the side lines,

PLAYBOY

190

WINS LAW BUFF .................

Whoever invented New York's small-
claims court had me in mind. For a
filing fee of 53.18, anybody can sue
anybody for damages up to $500. For
$3.18, in other words, you can become a
lawyer. You have the right to subpoena
witness You have the right to cross-
examine. You have the right to deliver a
simple and deeply moving summation be-
fore an audience of several dozen people.
You have the right to say “May it please
the court" to a real judge who is wearing
a black robe and looking solemn. For an
exua $25 or so—making a total invest-
ment of around $30—you сап buy a pro-
fesionally prepared transcript of your
performance, And it all takes place in
the evening—meaning that your job
does not interfere with your р

When I'm in the audience
claims (waiti

the evening's cases as a sort ol bu
шау). 1 can never understand w
the court reporter looks so bored—let-
а loll back and closing his
ey Шу, like а man typ
his sleep. ("When people in this city
don't have anyone to talk to,”
once told by a small-claims court report-
“they come down and talk to ше?) I
myself find every new case fascinating
even before either party says а word,
since the appearance of Ше parties
alone gives me a strong impression—in-
variably wrong—ol what the case will
be about, Is that husky man poing to
be sued for the medical expenses that
resulted from breaking the
the timid-looking man on his lefi? No,
he turns out to be the plaintiff, suing the
timidlooking man for permitting
dog to devour the husky man's newly
upholstered settee.

1 have dithculty restr
from making comments. I want tO Walk
up to the plaintill's table апа congratu-
ate a young woman who, in suing an
partmentb 1 for the return
of some illegal “key money" she says she
had to him to get ап apartment,
bolsters her case by presenting as wit-
nesses other tenants who respond to her
fully prepared series of questions by
testifying that they had similar experi-
ences with the same man. ("Th
your homework, counselor,” I want to
say. "A very solid piece of work,
decl") After a prosperouslooking gen-
Heman itemizes a |
he is suing another prosperous-looki
gentleman, the defendant—who claims
the work involved was just some infor-
mal advice to a friend, in the days when
they were still friends—says, "At the
rate he's charging, Judge, it figures out to
ht hundred and eighty thousand dol-
lars а week, or over forty-five million

Т was

nose of

ing myself

dollars a ycar. What's a man who makes
that much money doing spending all
night in small-claims court?" ("Bravo!"
І want to shout. "That's telling that
pompous papers-draw-upper!
goes into amazing de

à mover hired for a simple job of moving
her belongings from one small apartment
to another managed to do hundreds
of dollars’ worth of damage aud break
parts of three sets of china. (“What the
hell are you doing with three sets of
lady?
Small claims is used by a lot of New
who are interested not in mak-
iminations but merc-
ly in wreaking some small vengeance
on the phone company or a deparument
store or Con Edison or some other or-
panization that has no wa t to a
summons except to assign some conven-
tional memberofthe-bar lawyer to han-
die its defense. I was in the audience
one even g engineer was
suing a r ay for not hav-
ing a car ready for him at the London

to re:

airport despite his confirmed reserva-
The lack of a car had obviowly

tion.
spoiled the beginning of a carefully
planned on, but the engineer was
having some difficulty pro y fnar
P Ы

portation had probably
money. The rental-ca
man who devoted а lot of
to maintaining an expression
that he was accustomed to pra
а court of considerably highc
tion, was the one making the
—the relevant fine point i
being a lack of mutuality in the con-
иза. (Since the rentabcar company
would have been unable to collect from
the engineer if he had broken his part.
of the agreement by not showing up at
the airport, he could not collect from the
company for breaking its part of the
agreement by not having а car there in
case he did show up. For the customer's
immense pain and suffering, there is, as
we litigators say, no remedy.) But as the
engineer walked out of the courtroom, it
was apparent from the look on his face
that he believed some small measure of
justice had been done. What he was
thinking about as he left, I would guess,
was not how he might have countered the
point about a lack of mutuality but how
much a rentabcar company has to pay
a superciliouslooking papers-draw-upper
per һоиг, and whether that rate increases
after five, perhaps to double time.

ly, it would be unprofessional
of me to engage in anything that could
be considered a harassment suit, but
there is nothing at all unprofessional
about the threat of а harassment suit. In
much the same way that minor mobsters

ac

young
energy

jurisdic-
пе points
this case

in novels win debating points with a
local merchant by mentioning the fear-
some names of their patrons, 1 occasion-
ally catch the ear of the bureaucracy by
king about the model of Ameri
justice that can be found at small-claims
court—the proud feeling it gives us all
to know that any simple citizen. with.
$3.18 can go right down to I1 Centre
Sueet and seek his evening in court
against even a mighty corporation and
its exceedingly highly paid attorneys.
Invoking the name of small claims, I
find, breaks through the relentless polite-
ness of even that grounded stewardess
I'm always connected wi
the telephone company to comp!
of its eccentric billing methods.
method of dealing with department
stores, I find th n of small сі
surpassed in effectiveness only by the
alm threat 1 occasionally make to chain
myself to the front door at 8:50 the
following moming.

The first time one of my small-claims
discussions actually materialized into a
ppearance was several years ago,
according to my complaint, the
deft repairwork of some garage people
ad caused the motor of my car to fall
out on the Long Island Expressway.
Since the motor fell out several weeks
ter the repairwork had been done, my
evidence was what we | tors call ci
cumstantial ("Why else would my motor
fall out?" was one of the questions 1
had prepared). Reduced to its essentials,
fact, my case rested principally on the
possibility that the garage people would
not show up in court, I remain con-
vinced that if they had not appeared,
my strategy would have worked br
Бату and 1 would have triumphed

ms

court

my very first court appearance.
A lesson was learned, of course. abou
the risk involved in even a forceful and

ticulate practitioner's going into court

armed with only circumstantial evidence.
For my next case— suit against a con-
wactor for the money I had to spend

having his repairs repaired—I amassed а
fat file of bills
bon copies of stiff, legalistic letters. My
witnesses were carefully prepared. Ih
cticed my final argument for hours
front of a mirror. Three weeks before our

id

scheduled appearance, the contractor
sent me a check for the money he owed
heartbroken.

"Do you think we could go to co
anyway?" I asked my wife
he ca
litigators say.

When I thought about it, I decided
I had outgrown small-daims court any
way. Decisions are always made by the
judge at small claims, and 1 felt ready to
face a jury. 1 was somewhat pessimistic

(concluded on page 200)

“IMPOSSIBLE
OBJECT”

dominique sanda and alan bates
search for the meaning of life—
among other things—in a film
suffused with generous

helpings of flesh and fantasy

While Harry's mistress, Natalie (Dominique
Sando), ond her partner look on at right,
Harry (Alan Bates) and his dream woman,
Hippolyta (Leo Massari), tour the exotic
party of his surrealistic fantasy (below).

=

ef

Ma

THOUGH seemingly complex—with puz
g relationships and flights into fantasy
—John Frankenheimer's Impossible Ob-
ject actually deals with one very simple
theme: The search for love, life's object,
сап be comic and tragic, triumphant and
pathetic, or all of these at once. Star-
ring Alan Bates and Dominique Sanda,
the forthcoming Franco London Film
production of Nicholas Moslcy's novel
details this life quest in the frustrated
alfair of two enigmatic lovers. Harry.
an English writer, devotes himself to his
art while shunning interpersonal relation-
ships; his French mistress, Natalie, accord-
ing to Dominique, “wants everything
but does not know what ‘everything’
means. To her, an ‘impossible object’ is a
dream that scems to be out of reach, but
once it becomes possible, the dream
changes to one as out of reach as the las

Pursuing that clusive vision, Natalie, mar-
ried to a businessman (Michel Auclair),
begins an entangling liaison with Harry,
but her demand for deeper commitment

temporarily forces them apart Torn between Natalie and
his wife, Elizabeth, the writer retreats into his imagination
and weaves a fantasy—the surrealistic scenes shown here—
about everyman's ideal woman, Hippolyta, who searches him
out, seduces him and yet makes no emotional demands on him.
In the dream sequence, filmed at the Cháteau du Regard,
north of Paris, Hippolyta leads Harry through a garden party
attended by many alluring but coolly impersonal women, the
kind he finds particularly attractive, But strangely enough,
even in the fantasy, he can't flee the real world completely, for
appearing at the dream party are Natalie, his wife and his son.
“Fhe complications, both actual and imagined, that arise later
in the film are even more bizarre. But we'll leave those to
readers curious enough to seck out the Impossible Object for
themselves. It strikes us as a wonderful way to escape reality.

At the imaginary affcir (left), Natalie weltzes near the pool,
gathering spot for such improbable—and mad-hatted—spectators as
French dancer Christine Ferry (near right), Flemish model Michele
Henderson (center right) and Swedish model Mala Fox (far right).
Accenting the baroque pool scene (below) are several symbolic
statues inspired by the works of Belgian artist Paul Delvaux,

NS ee
ж

'OGRAFHY BY RAYMOND DEPARDON

PLAYBOY

AND SO IT GOES „шл от page 116)

a work detail. He nodded, then walked
away. Jim McCann leaped off the wall
and trotted through the streets of the city
to a place where he could hide until he
could be taken across the border, dressed
as a priest.

Bernadette Devlin and the Reverend
lan Paisley are recognized on sight. But
whenever I think of either of them, I sec
two other faces. Neither of these two
faces has ever been in the hh Times
or the Belfast Telegraph. One belongs
to а great admirer of Bernadette
will never be in а news;
5 dead. His name was
and he was 28 years old when he went
down.

Thad gone to St
town HH miles south
dene sp
of the town hall there. I arrived. more
than an hour early. Alrea
street fronting the old building was
almost filled.

McDivitt. known by nearly everyone
in Str: as “the wee dummy,” was
red shirt and was back
inst Ше brick wall of a building di-
rectly across the street from where Berna-
dette would speak. One of the organizers
of the rally pointed him out to me.
"There's one of Bernie's greatest. fans,”
the man said. "Eddie McDivitt nev
isses a speech Bernie gives here, ev
though he can't hear а thing she says
Deaf and dumb since birth, he is."

MeDivitt remained st the wall,
smiling and waving at people in the
crowd. He seemed to know everyone. A
little liter. Bernadette was driven
through the crowd to within a few fect
the town-hall steps.

She delivered а speech about the rights
of the working class that was received
with great enthusiasm by the predomi
nantly Catholic audience. Bernadette is
good street speaker. She moves her arms
and changes position continually, like a
busy welterweight fighter. She his a
method of delivery that makes each mem-
ber of the crowd believe he or she is
being addressed personally.

No one was more enthusiastic about
Rernadette’s speech than McDisitt. He
applauded loudly whenever he
others begin to dap and he shouted
his approval in an unuranslatable bawl-
ing sound.

We have one thing in common
with the people of Derry and the people
of Belfast,” Bernadeue said, her voice
full of scorn. "We arc all sick and tired
of being stepped on by the corrupt rc-
gime ol the six counties. We have fought
for our survival up in the Bogside at
Derry and down on the Falls Road in

ny border
werry. to

from the steps

ly. the narrow

saw

194 Belfast. And so now we're not asking.

We're demanding that internment be
ended immediately.

The crowd roared in the alte
sunshine. Bernadette stood there glower-
ing. looking even more angry and deter-
mined than she does іп photograph
Several men formed a barricade and
helped lead her back to the car parked at
the foot of the steps. The crowd surged
forward, each man and woman seek-
ing to shout a greeting or obtain an awto-
graph. McDivitt tried to push his way
through the crowd, too, but couldn't
it. Bernadette's car moved off be-
fore he got close.

With few hours of Bernadette's
ne, the trouble started.
ч for the mob was the drapery
shop of Gilbert Bruce, a Protestant who
had refused to shut down his shop to
protest internment. His place
burned to the ground. After this, cars
were turned over and set afire to
form a barricade at the town's main
intersection.

The British army moved in. First they
fired rubber bullets, then. С mis
ters, The crowd retreated slowly before
them. Prominent in the crowd was Eddie
MeDivitt, the town dummy.

Eddie crouched in a doorway whe
soldier fired a rubber bullet that struck
the wall above him and bounded away.
He ran to retrieve the bullet and ducked
behind a hedge to look at it. He was
pleased to have such a trophy. He waved
it high above his head and then pointed
it moc
though іг were a pistol "Drop that
weapon and put up your hands." Eddie
was ordered by an army обсег speak-
ing over а portable hand mike.

Eddie couldn't hear the order, of
course, and the soldiers were too far
away for him to read their lips. He
continued to smile
bullet. An army ma
rifle with
that smashed
s still smilin,

noon

was

a

nd wave the rubber
ksman, using a -303
li. fired a shot
to Eddie's forehead. He
as he fell to the ground.

telescopic si

w;

Jan Paisley is a different mater. In a
strange мау. he and Bernadette need
cach other. If Paisley didn't have Ber
dette and the Catholic Church to attack,
where be? If Bernadette
hadn't had Paisley and the Br
ay targets, she would never h
elected to Parliament.

Paisley is the more entertain’

would he

ту
се been

g. сус

scarlet whore of Rome.” Out
scheduled meeting between an Ulster
wp and the Pope, Paisley once flew
10 Rome. He was thwarted by thc Vati-

rds, whom he later described.
“blaspheming. cursing, spitting Roman
scum.

Paisley mesmerizes his followers. He is
a marvelous sight at the head of an
Orange march. They call him the Big
Fellow. And he certainly is that, stand-

ng O^" and weighing better than 250
pounds. His facial appearance is truly
inusual. In profile, his vague eyes, prom-
inent nose and protuberane lips make
him look like something copied from an
ancient Roman coin.

ГШ never forget a visit | made to his
Martyrs’ Memorial to hear his Sunday-
night political sermon. The churdi,
built by Paislcy's followers at a cost of
5420.000. seats more than 1000. There is
never an empty seat. The church looks
Out onto а vast stretch of grasscovered
parkland on the predominantly Protes
tant east side of the city. The Union
Jack flies from а flagpole on the front
lawn.

It was the only church I'd ever attend-
ed where there was а total hush ev
before the service began. When Paisle
finally climbed the five steps leading to
the pulpit, the only sound in the whole
church was the clatter of his shoes on the
steps and а few scattered coughs that
echoed in the huge room. "We are
here,” Paisley began in his booming ora-
tor's voice, "to speak about a common
ground on which all men of Ulster can
he united and. settle their differences."
Hundreds of heads nodded agreement.

“1d like to go to Armagh and shout in
the papist cardinal’s ¢ isley shout-
ed,

to tell him he is a sinner. I'd like to

до то Rome to shout
1
Then Га go to th
and shout it in their c
re sinners and nothing but fuel for
hell. The only way men can be saved
by K to the truth of the Holy
Bible. And that is how we can find com-
mon grounds for our political dillcr-

at the Pope. ‘You
ve all sinned! You have all sinned!"
Protestant bishops

too. Al men

Ulster, too.” Everyone in the

aed to nod. as though con-

vinced they had just listened to the
1 solution.

‘ow it was time for the evening col-

lectio I it a silent collection.
because Paisley requests that only paper
money be contributed. A pound note is
lest paper-money denomination
М. Аз exchange rates
worth something morc th
his morn: elevenah

the time,
52.40.

it wi

sley said, wer
lect five hundred pounds for our ch
building fund. I trust that you here to-
night will be able to better that mark

Paisley opened the hymnbook on the
lectern in irom of hi
arms, indicating it was time for sor
“This is a grand old hymn, ley

“and I want you to all stand and si

dn

and throw your h ds into it
with all your spirit.”

(continued on page 251)

s

“Oh, don't worry about my husband, silly; he's
busy defending my honor!"

195

196

Ribald Classic

the tunbridge doctors
Anonymous song from
The New Academy of Complements, 1671

You maidens and wives and young widows, rejoice!
Declare your thanksgiving with heart and with voicel
Since waters were waters, I dare boldly say,

There ne'er was such cause of a thanksgiving day!
For from London Town there's lately come down
Four able physicians that never wore gown:

Their physic is pleasant, their dose it is large,

And you may be cured without danger or charge.

No bolus nor vomit, no potion nor pill
(Which sometim but oftener do kill),

Your taste nor your stomach need ever displease,

If you'll be adviséd but by one of these.

For they’ new drug, which is called The Close Hug,

Which will mend your complexion and make you lock smug—
A sovereign balsam, which, once well applic
Though grieved at the heart, the patient n

r died,

In the morning you need not be robbed of yo
For in your warm beds your physic works be:
And though, in the taking, som 5 required,

The motion's so pleasant you cannot be tired.

For on your backs you must lie with your body raised high,
And one of these doctors must always be by,

Who still will be ready to cover you warm,

For if you take cold, all physic doth harm.

rest,

Before they do venture to
They always consider their patient's complex
If she have а moist palm or a red head of hair,
She requires more physic than one man can spare.
If she have a long nose, the doctor scarce knows
How many good handfuls must go to her dose:
You ladics that have such ill symptoms as these
In reason and conscience should pay double fees.

ive their direction,

But thar we may give to these doctors due praise,
Who to all soris of people their favors conveys:

On the ugly for pity sake skill shall be shown.

And as for the handsome—they're cured for their own!
On silver and gold they never lay hold,

For what comes so freely they scorn should be sold.
Then join with the doctors, and heartily pray

Their power of healing may never decay! El

ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND.

197

announcing the prize-winning authors and their
contributions judged by our editors to be the past year most outstanding

3/

PLAYBOY’S ANNUAL k
WRITING AWARDS Vemm

Best Major Work Best Short Story

DAN JENKINS was almost unanimously
voted first place for September's Semi-Tough
(now the title of his novel from Atheneum),
an antic account of the life and times of
football Giant (and full-time red-neck) Billy
Clyde Puckett. Michael Crichton's The Ter-
minal Man (serialized іп rLavuoy's March,
April and May issues), an updating of Frank:
enstein, came in second.

SEAN O'FAOLAIN, who is considered to be
Ireland's greatest living fiction writer, re-
peated last year’s first-place finish with his
haunting June novella, Falling Rocks, Nar-
rowing Road, Cul-de-Sac, Stop, about willful
men and scheming women. Nelson Algren's
The Last Carrousel (February), the tale of
а сату shill who fancies himself at large
with Bonnie and Clyde, was runner-up.

Best Essay Best Article

RICHARD RHODES, with The Killing of
the Everglades (January), an cloquent cvo-
cation of Florida's great
dictment of the irresponsibility that has led
to its destruction, took first prize. А winner
іп both 1964 and 1971 was this year’s runner-
up, John Clellon Holmes, whose travels
Germany culminated іп March s melancholy
and compelling Encounter in Munich.

HERBERT COLD: recollection of the liter-
ary Fifties, In the Community of Girls and
the Commerce of Culture (August), placed
first and has since become a chapter in his
My Last Two Thousand Years, a collection
of memoirs. Marshall Frady's Shirmishes
with the Ladies of the Magnolias (Septem-
ber), dissecting the curious asexuality of the
Southern belle, won second place.

198

IN A TIME WHEN authors can write about virtually anything in just about any style they happen to like—and very

often get it published—deciding what is the very best writing of any year is a little hazardous: like having to choose

between good meat and good fish . . . chacun à son goùt and all that. The problem is doubly confounding when you

have to decide what is the best writing you’ve published. After all, if you didn't like it, what is it doing in your
magazine? But every year we go back and single out those articles and stories that have given us special pleasure and

made us feel that we are privileged to be editors. And that's just about the only standard we use in deciding on

the winners of our annual writing awards. To show the winners how pleased we are with our own good taste, we give

ch of them the silver medallion shown at left and $1000 ($500 for the runners-up). Here are our choices for 1972.

Best New Contributor (Fiction) Best New Contributor (Nonfiction)

JAMES ALAN McPHERSON wins with
July story, The Silver Bullet, an ironic look
at a group of young blacks who attempt to
start a protection racket and are frightened
away from their first hustle by a single tough
guy. Runner-up Robert Crichton’s Gillon

l sketch of Grateful Dead
), the product of a
h them. In Shut Up and
August), second-place
inger describes а nonce

1 Have Known (
six-week stay wi

Show the Movie:
winner Larry Le

з Cameron, Poacher (October) is the classic municative encounter between an East Coast
adventure of a man's success at grappling film critic aud a California film class that fig-
with his own obsessive goal. ures movies should be seen and not averred.

Best Humor Best Satire

DAN GREENBURG was assigned to write
about his experiences at My First Orgy in
hopes that the author of Scoring, and a pro-
fessional Nebbish, would strike out. He
didn't, but we published the piece anyway
(im December) and decided to award him
first prize to show that there аге no hard
feelings. Robert Morleys Take Me to Your
Tailor (January) was a close second.

G. BARRY GOLSON's pseudoscientific sam-

ic opinion, The People—Maybe!
icated a dramatic ground swell
pathy. But nor
among PLaybor’s editors: We liked the picce
so much we've hired him as Assistant Arti-
cles Editor. Woody Allen, winner for 1969,
wound up sccond with his Match Wits with
Inspector Ford (December).

199

200

ШШШ LAW BUFF „о

about the likelihood of finding an ap-
propriate case, since opportunities to
perform before a jury are limited for
someone who has not gone through the
formality of becoming a member of the
bar. Then, to my absolute delight, I was
threatened with а suit by a fuel-oil sup-
plier. A letter from the company's Taw-
yer said that if I did mot pay 591.06 for
some [uel oil my wile had supposedly
ordered, I would be taken to court and
would therefore be faced with pay
much more—a calculation he à
d on the assumption that he was
dealing with some layman whose re-
sponse to being sucd would be to hire a
lawyer. 1 waited quietly for the sum-
mons to be served.

When it arrived, it turned out to be
an even more splendid. document. than
I had dared hope for—a handsome form
that went on and on about deponents
and complainants, and then, as if that
weren't enough, repeated it all in $h
ish. It said that we were being sued in
the civil court of the Bronx. [or $94.06
—the price of the fucLoil delivery that,
ccording to an informal deposition I
had already taken from my wile, we did
not need and had asked to have re-
moved. I tossed the summons dramati-
cally onto the breakfast table. “We'll see
about this in court,” I said.
you'd better call W:
id. Wally Popolizio

ly" my wile
awyer who

bu

represented us when we bought our
house a [ew years ago and has ever since
felt some responsibility to prevent me,
if possible, from doing anything that
would clearly result in my being sold
into bon

“I see
attorney," 1

Naturally, I will refuse to pay the

ninetyfour dollars and six cents" I
told him.

“I expected you to offer me all sorts
of sensible advice
compromise, W;
I've been underestimating you

According to my wife's theory, Wally
figured that getting the jury trial out of
шу system was а bargain at $94.06,
it made it less likely t
from the audience during some crit
trial one day to harangue the jury with
my summation and thereby get myself ar-
rested for impersonating a mouthpiece.

A few days after I filed a request for a
jury trial, I got a telephone call from
law "Hello, coun-
d, in my most professional

the [uel company

selor,” I

“TI tell you what your trouble is! Your trouble is

уоште trying to keep too many balls in the ai

m

aner, when he had explained who he
was. He immediately offered to settle for
half. I was intransigent, of course, hav-
ing the negotiation advantage of know-
1 would not give up the jury

trial even if he offered a settlement that
spent

paid me 59406. P had already
ishing the quest
sk the prospective jurors in the

g sat through

would
voir dire. Y
той dire examinations, 1 had prepa

my questions wi

№ the awareness that sly

litigators often use what is supposedly an
examination of the juror fications
pretest for arguing their cases.

fell me, madam, if you will be so
kind," I would “Do you think you
would be able to render a fair verdict in
this case even if one of the es is
shown 10 be a simple homeowner trying
to protect his family in the city and the
other party is shown to be a rich and
probably rapacious oil corpora

When the notice of the oial date
finally came from the court, 1 was ec
ic—until my wife informed me that
the day in question was the day we were
to start а long wee id in the country
she had been looking forward to for
months.

“But it's only a weekend in the coun-
ry.

and
she

But it's only forty-seven doll:
three cents if you settle for hall,

volved.” I
Think of the sacrifice that engi-
we saw in small daims made when
the rental car wasn't there on the first
iom. They had offered
him a gift certificate, if you'll nember,
and he turned them down.”

“He should have taken it," she said.
“Wally says smart lawyers settle.”

“The trial must go on,” I said.

"In that case,” she said, "I might have
to testify for the ny. They did

"But a legal principle is
said.

y from the Bron:
outrage," 1 s
she said.
1 still think а lot of what the trial
ight have been like. The jury, of
course, would have been convinced. of
our case before the first piece of evi-
а ir
finely
The ойлгис driver would

hor

a
tion he had been given to deliver the
ой. ("Do you always do business that
way, Mr. Pabalomaz") At times, my
opponent would пу to object as I
turned scs to jelly, but my
culm rebuttal would result in his being
overruled every time. “И it please thc
court," 1 would say to the judge, “I am
merely tying to refresh the witness’
recollection.

Anatomy
ofa Gremlin

1. Gremlin is the only little economy 6. And more headroom in the trunk.
car with a standard 6-cylinder engine. Andonly American Motors makes this

2. Reaches turnpike speed easily. promise: The Buyer Protection Plan backs

3. Weighs more than other small cars. every 73 car we build. And we'll see that our
And its wheels are set wider apart. dealers back that promise.

4. Has a wider front seat.
5. A wider back scat.

AMERICAN MOTORS BUYER PROTECTION PLANÎ |
4. A simple. strong guarantee. just 101 words!
When you buy a new 1973 car from an American Motors
dealer, American Motors Corporation guarantees to you that,
except for ures, it will pay for the repair or replacement of
y Part it supplies that is defective in material or workman
ship. This guarantee is good for 12 months from the date the
is first used or 12.000 miles. whichever comes first. All

we require is that the car be properly maintained and cared
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 dealer

2. A free loaner car from almost every one of our
dealers if guaranteed repairs take overnight.

. Special Trip Interruption Protection.
а. And a toll free hot line to AMC Headquarters.

AMC РЕ Gremlin

We back them better because we build them better.

Buckle up for safety

201

PLAYBOY

202

“Га put your giant slalom up against anybody's!”

TO CHINA WITH NIXON

judgment. Which gets priority: the indi
vidual's freedom or the relationships of
the whole society? Which unit is to be
taken . . . the nation, wade union. our
dass, my cronies, me? This is the hinge
on which the whole issue turns.” (Those
who hear a familiar ring are right—

the implied doctrine is undiluied fascism.)
Terrill gives examples. He has told us al-
ready about Professor Fu, a scientist ir

dined to the study of pure science, who
however was recently instructed by the
state to devote himself entirely to pest
control. "Professor Fu . . . did not make
own decision to take up the problem
of insect pests—it was handed him. Is
ong?" He recalls the writer Kuo
Мо јо, who used to satisfy himself, befor
Liberation, writing books suited to his
own taste, for small audiences. The gov-
ment decided he should appeal to
wider audiences. “The writer . . . cu
not now do books [or 3000 or at most
8000 rcaders, as Kuo used to in Shanghai
in the 1950s, but must write for the mass
millions—and he's judged by whether he
сап do that well or not. Is that wrong?"

Is that wrong

Wrong! What is wrong?

What's right is things like Eliminating
Graft. (Why, then, oppose Musso!
The elimination of these conditions in
China," writes histor
man, exultantly, "is so striking that ne;
ative aspects of the new rule fade
relative importance.” The loss of every
known freedom is defined, now, as a
Negative Aspect.

We have been 50 ye
nis of Wilsonian polities, our expe-
rience as imperial power having
taught us, fitfully, that the Wilsonian
idea simply didn’t work. But we never
tried to do without it altogether. The
Wilsonian idea, during its brief golden
age, was not only a mandate Lor concert
cd action by the good states against the
bad states, which mandate foundered in
its first test ag;
ag Ethiopi
1 chat it was impra
like the United Nations Convention on
Human Rights, at least preserved a loose
set of criteria concerning the human
condition that аге epistemologically op-
timistic. Wilsonianism believed there
were ways societies should behave to
ward their citizens
Very well. IL we cannot march in to
the Tibe »m being overrun by the
Chinese, who proceed genocidally to ex-
tinguish a religious creed, we can express
ourselves on the heinousness of the act
with philosophical and moral security.
We will try land. not to be censorious,
let alone priggish, in making judy
and we will be scrupulous as to the form
in which they are pronounced. We will

that м

discovering the

major st

nd shouldn't behave.

ve

is ا‎

(continued [rom page 150)

be worldly enough, for instance, to re
ognize the probability that Ghana will
move quickly from emancipation as а col-
ony of England to selfrule as a one-
party state. But never so worldly as to
dismiss the subsequent torture and mu
der routinely practiced under Nkrumah
as merely а Neg Aspect—who
knows, perhaps even appropriate?
The retreat hom Wilsonianism to-
ward ideological cgalitarianism is quite
general, though there are interesting €
ceptions, mostly arising from polemica
opportunism. George McGovern has
ainst the Greek colonels and
эм Pr Thieu with a fervor

ive

ident

never summoned against, say, Tito,
or Ho Chi Minh or, for that matter,
in recent years, against the. Devil.

aded it greatly when Agnew went to
reece and to Spain. mot at all when
went to. Romania or to Yugo-
ia. There is something there that
seems to say: It is the higher duty to sus-
pend criticism of any power that is strong
enough to
is still fashionable to inveigh against un
democratie societies but only provided
that they are (a) weak and (b) allied,
in some general way, with the West. The
further they recede from the family's
orbit, the Jess we criticize them. This is
so for reasons that are psychologically

nitiate a world war. You see it

understandable. You castigate Cousin Joe
when he starts hitting the bottle, but

the alcoholic at the other end of town is
а statistic. Aud then—no question about
it—there is the racial point. Arthur
Schlesinger remarked somewhere that he
finds it disquieting that his fellow intel-
Iectuals seem to be saying that commu
nism, which would never be tolerated
here (read: among civilized white Amer-
ians). is somehow OK over there (read:
among uncivilized yellow people).

But now, with the Fulbright Terrill
Nixon offensive, even those words of
Mr. Schlesinger. uttered only а few years
ayo, seem ely reactionary. They
rely. after all, on acqui in the
proposition. that

But is communism wrong?

We were in Hangchow, and of course
there was а banquet, We were restless
Tired and a little bored: demoralized
and a little ashamed. There wae so
many var lulged. СІ
vanity had us flying in from Peking in
two shifts because they wouldn't let us
use our own big Boeing jet. insisting
that we use their little jet, which was
Russian at that. Our deadlines for filin;
copy meant that the first shift. couldn't
leave before one a.M., the second therc-
fore not until four a. "The hotel
Hangchow, hailed as a tourist center ever
since Marco Polo, proved to be too small

su (c

scence

ties o be

nese

10 give us cach the indispensable solace

of a single room. "The day was gray and
cold. There had been no hard news. The

night before, Nixon and Chou End.
had been up umil dawn, chewing the
impasse. We did not know what was the
nature of it and were tired of sending

speculation back home, Then—sensing,
something am -the President invited
us all to his villa at four рм. We

got there, wandered about a bit in the
ardens and quarters, and found
finally the outdoor patio where we were
expected. It had been rigged for one ol
those group pictures, planks on
scaffolding, with i
which meant He would be po:
us We lined up, already shive
cold. Mr. Nixon entered. beami
all posed. Then he turned around to
genially and said: Im
ve out the details of what
we're working on, but you must under-
stand that in order to help you do your
duty of reporting the news well. 1 can-
not risk doing my duty, which is diplo-
adly. So help me that was all he
said, but it took him 20 minutes, during
which the wind and the cold went to
work lisciviously on our bones and our
spirits, as we stood silently there on the
scallolding, 80 titans of the American me-
dia, chin just above the head of the man
in front, four tiers of us, like cadets hav
ing one last docile session with the drill-
before graduation. Then, the
bricfing at an end, Nixon said, sort of
teasingly, that if any of us wanted to pre-
sent our spouses with proof that we had
indeed been in China with the President,
not, er, elsewhere doing something else,
he would be glad to have his picture tak
en with each of us individually. End Sulk.
Kightyodd grand musta lining up to
have their picture tiken with the Presi-
dent of the United States, making self-
conscious conversation as the line moved.
forward slowly. The indignity, all the
ng for its h sell
inflicted, hung heavy in the stomach two
hours later in the banquet hall, where we
reported as told to do promptly at 7:
There we stood, waiting. Nixon and
ligand шлш шато тте p
dinner booze was the same Chinese
syrup. with zero anesthetizir . For

maste

be

more bi

we

the first time 1 was asked a provoc:
. by the Chinese oficial мапе.
is we all were,

for the principals, and for the first (and
1 answered a Chinese short
ly. He had heard, he said, that I was
conservative" What was an American

conservative? I answered crisply: some
onc who believes in individual free
dom and in—l reached for the most

incendiary word—capitalism. Did I really
believe in "capitalism"? he asked mock-
gly. Yes. 1 said, and for all anyone is
permitted to know, you do too. He
feigned ignorance of the allusion to his

203

PLAYBOY

204

intellectual paralysis, and smiled as sick-
ly sweet as the Ch с he brought
to his lips to toast me with. Joe kraft
said he was going next door to the bed-
room to fetch something (the banquet
hall abutted the hotel). He came back
two hours later (he mised a splendid
meal) and in plenty of time for the
toasts, which were just beginning.
"Where on earth have you been?” I
whispered. “Slee he winked. Trés
cool We were listening to the usual
business from the Chinese toastmasters.
We were relieved to learn [rom Chou's
toast that thu Thines people still feel
friendship for the ¢ people, and
that nothing had $ ррепей to change
that since last nig
Nixon, and by God, he w
evolution led by George Wash
the revolution led by Mao Tsetung. But
alter all, why not? As Terrill would say
is that wrong? Both were revolutions,
weren't hey?

Albert Jay Nock wrote a line that
never leaves the memory. 1 paraphrase
him: "E have often thought that it would

ng lo write an essay on th
question: How do you go about discove
ing that you are slipping into a dark
such essay I think you would
have to reflect on the special problems a
democracy has in mobilizing public att
tudes in such a way as to inform fore
y in directions that are essentially
moral. The great toralitarian systems do

should publicize | Scire annie

Tsetung friternizing with President
Richard Nixon to satisfy the people that
a friendly relationship with the United
States was the right thing to do. Only
two years аро, Chairman Мао pro-
nounced that “U. S. imperialism is sliugh-
tering the white amd black people in
its own country. Nixon's fascist atroc-

ities have kindled the raging flames
of the revolutionary mass movement
in the United States. The Chinese

people firmly support the revolutionary
struggle of the American people.

speech in which that passage prou!
was still being pasied rou
e we were th

“If you're calling the Berrymans. they seem to
be out. Any indication as lo where you think they might have
gone will be appreciated by your FBI”

now redirected the public on the proper
attitude toward America, he could. redi-
rect it back to where it had been, as
Hitler and Stalin twice changed attitudes
toward cach other, on cither end of the
Ribbentrop-Molotov Pact.

А free society cannot do this kind of
thing. And America—young, inexperi-
enced and moralistic—ean do it least.
When we fought hand in hand with
Stalin, Churchill had said he would make
а pact with the Devil himself to defeat
Hitler. In America, our leaders. far from

s in him, who before
Unde Joe.” Thus have
the Chinese Communists been trans
formed, under diplomatic exigency; so
that now the polls tell us that the Ameri
can people, assimilating the Nixon trip.
have discovered that the Chinese е
prise is “intelligent,” "progressive" and
"practical" To be sure, the Chinese
dot do things the way we do. bur their
distinctive ideas on how to do things
are understandable—ánd anyway, who
are we to criticize? Who ever said we
were so great?

And then too, a free society makes
decisions concerning its own defenses
with some reference to what it is that it
seeks to defend itself against. Our own
defense budget is a great extravagance

los it is defending something that
is indeed worth 80 billion dollars а y
defending, and at the risk of a nuc
war: That i in own.
ing and manning 1000 multipletargered
nuclear Minutemen. As the differences
between what we are and what we might
become in the absence of an irre-
sistible defense system diminish in our
mind, so does the resolution diminish to
make the sacrifices necessary to remain
free—the tacit national commitment
the risk of death is better than the
certain loss of liberty.

Nineteen-sixty: “Do you believe thar

er-

ted States should defend itself
even at the risk of nuclear war?” Yes,
70 percent—of the student body of Yale

Uu

versity, in answer to that question
incteem-seventy: same college, same
quesion—"Do you believe that the
United States should defend ibel even at
the risk of nuclear war?" Yes, 10 percent

Is that wrong’

Well of course it depends. Presum
bly if the people in the Dark Ages had
known it was dark and why it was dark,
they'd have done something about
itet in the light. / ter of fact,
eventually they did. “H the whole world
is covered with asphalt,” Iya Ehrenbui
“one day а crack will appear

gas w

wrote,
the
grow
gras

I have not worked that out

phi 1

How will we know then that it is

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW | (continued from page 74)

end of the season.” The mistletoe inc
dent, on top of an accumulation of
other disputes, had made me determined
not to continue on the show. I felt T
could no longer continue in an amicable
creative relationship.

PLAYBOY: It sounds more as if. with your
stake, you were abusing the star's
erogative to throw his weight around.
sing it right-
y—and properly. 1 think, I wasn't
really throwing my weight around to
ar. If I had left
а surrende
how much ego

pi
O'CONNOR: Not abusing it.

show people 1 was the si
the show, it would have be
not a victory. 1 ask ло
is there in а surrender?
PLAYBOY: How was the conlli
O'CONNOR: I got what 1 м:
cut the mistletoe reference. 5
ly, my contract was rencgot
my ego was assuaged.
PLAYBOY: Do the terms of your con
provide for financial participation
in the Family's extensive merchandisir
operation?
O'CONNOR: They do. But Um probably
getting screwed out of the proceeds. T
Should be receiving a piece of the profits
from posters, buttons, m
zines, beer mugs. records and the rest of
it. Most producers of hit television shows
create. additional revenues through thi:
sort of merchandising, which involves
everything from Mission: Impossible spy
its embellished with replicas of the cist
to David Cassidy lunch boxes adorned
with his likeness,
PLAYBOY: Doesn't this sort of tl
ently trade on the show"
quick buck?
O'CONNOR: That's exactly what it does.
Capitalizing on the show to make money
1 other ways is the name of the game.
I've never read The Wit and Wisdom of
Archie Bunker, but that's fi i
s long as I get some loot out of it. I
didn't care for my mug being connected
with silly things like sweat shirts or the
"Archie. Bunker for President” cam-
gn or any of that horseshit. 1 think
pove all that; 1 feel it’s demeaning
But Norman said: "You might as well

1 resolved
мса. They
sequent:
ted—and

‘T-shirts,

g pät-
success for a

long with it and make some mone
because if we withhold approval йз
ing to be bootlegged anyhow.” How-

ШЕТ
item that uses my
10 зау

sked Tor approval of any
ve
ap-

And 1 did 1

the

g on the bumper stickers used
Preside i

fac
about

words

nker
we rejected anh
to be using Archie to ram home a spe-
cifically partisan. political idea. We ap-
proved the slogans that really bespoke
Archie's ан н the same way the
show docs, L Build a Better Уем
or “Bunker's the
or "I'm a Dingbat

udes

779 (187
Tor Bunker.”
PLAYBOY: How would you r

2)

t to

an

‘America—Love It or Leave I^ bump-
er sticker with Archie's name on it?
O'CONNOR: І would immediately reject
it as offensive, even without Archie's
name. Inherent in that asshole bumper
sticker is the smug implication that
everybody who fails to display one
doesn't love his country. That's an insult
10 every other driver on the road.
PLAYBOY: If Bunker h car, would he
stick that sentiment on his bum]
O'CONNOR: Absolutely, along with “Sup-
which is an-
other mesage that gripes me. Of course
we should support our local police;
they're the guys who protect our person
and our property. But again, the ir
plication in that goddamn bumper sticker
is that people without it aren't support
ing their police. And that’s a wretched
slur. The sentiments we used on one of
the Bunker for President
tons might very well apply to people who

port Your Local Police”.

bu

think like that: “Archie Says: The Trou-
ble with America Is THEM!”

PLAYBOY: Your record album, a nostalgic
pacan to “the beloved Thirtics"—as you

call them in the liner notes—is yet a
other example of All im the Famil
ancillary dividends. What was beloved

out the Thirties?
O'CONNOR: They're beloved in senti-
mental retrospect because they were the

years of my adolescence, the time when
I was growing up. It was probably the
last great decade in America. because of
the upbeat mood pervading the nation,
despite the rampant deprivation. The
system had ler everybody down. People
felt y
of them were, with nowhere to go and
nothing or no one to пит to for help.
There were bread lines, and jobs were
ce. And there was a terrific fear
among those who were still working that
tomorrow they would be on relie. And
certainly there was a fear of world war
and potential loss of young manhood
But there were always voices in Ше

doned and turned out, as m;

Depression that said things were going
to improve. Leaders like Roosevelt were
always keeping our spirits up. There
мү that fear of the end of the world
that we live with today. One could look
with hope to tomorrow, to next month,
to next year, to the next program the
Government was going to undertake
One saw the future, or at least felt that
he could look for it. І don't really feel
we can look for a future anymore.

1 hate to be that pessimistic, but I
almost feel afraid to imagine where ГІ
be five or ten years from now, or where
my child will be. Fm filled v Kind
of terror because I'm unable to plan for
him or for myself. It's an extremely u

settling feeling that things are going on
over which Ive got no control what-

soever. And I'm not the only one who's
afraid. Almost everybody 1 talk to on
these matters is uptight. I catch ей
fear and they catch mine. It goes arou
like a current. Fm talking not just
bout people like me. 1 mean everybody
—hard-hats and longhairs, young and
old, black and white. These groups are
so busy at cach other's throats that they
don't realize how much they hit
common, that we're all
and we're all going to sa
hell if we don't get the г
the tiller. We all share the same sense of
helplessness, the same fecling that things
re getting out of control and that our
institutions, even if they don't lie to us
yd 1 think they do—aren’t Шу
working anymore. If we could just get
together, we could start turning things
this country
Are you speaking for Archie or
for yourself when you say that?

O'CONNOR: Are you kidding? If Archie
had to sit and listen to all this—me
telling him to join forces with blacks

and radicals-he'd tell me to go hump
myself.
PLAYBOY: And how would you reply?

O'CONNOR: Ld tell him Ed

my sister.

her hump

“He always quits after the foreplay.”

205

PLAYBOY

FASHION FUTURES

(continued [rom page 117)
the 400 guests enthusiastically responded
ith a colorful array of finery that ri-
led the oneofa-kind offerings (from
65 of the world’s foremost designers) be-
ing showcased onstage. As in past years,
the roster of contributors read like a
Who's Who of international fashion and
included such sartorial luminaries as Bill
Pierre Cardin, Hubert de Givenchy
and Yves St. Laurent А number of

women's-wear. designers Bonnie Cashi
Willie Smith, Calvin Klein, Anne
garty and made first appe
ance Special Coty Av

winners Alan Rosanes and Pinky and
nne of Flo Toronto. And this year,
an innovative fillip was provided by the
ше of electronic projection. equipment
that enabled a behind-the scenes illustra
tor to sketch each ourfit—with the draw-
ing visible to all on iant screen—as
they were displayed by live models on
the runw:

The Designer Collection, in Green's
estimation, “demonstrates anew that mul-
tiple forces are producing. fresh
d pproaches to dress and cr
а new definition of style." One of these
forces, nol unexpectedly. is street fash-
ion, the source of the "layered look’
that dominated this year’s show. Layered
entries ranged from Кирет Lycett-
Green's salt-and-pepper-tweed coat worn
over blackandwhitestriped crew and
cardigan sweaters to Bill Blass's Scott
"izseraldesque ensemble, shown on
page 117.

Though it origi
the layered look came 10 m

idua

the street,
ıswear

са on

via

just one i ion
that the yins of fashion are
getting closer me. Another is
this year's unisex concept from Roberta
of Venice: hisandkhers pants suits in
an abstract print of red, purple, green

the women's т

and black. The fabric she uses is wool
jersey (light for her and heavy for him).
unctional sportswear was also p

nent featured in this years show.
Bonnie Cashin's bicyding suit includes
trousers that cling and а sweater with a
funnel neck that can serve as а hood
Larry Kane, on the other hand, chose to
apply his talent to a fencing costume
and came up with a black-and-white
woolknit model, while Hermés offered
the sophisticated leather cycling suit seen
on page 118. Designer Ralph Lauren
opted for a slight v n on the classic
tennis watchers outfit of blazer and
slacks by presenting a handsome blazer
suit with striped jacket, pleated white-
flannel trousers and white. bucks—with
the finishing touch of а sleeveless V-
neck sweater, yellow buttondown shirt
and a full bow tie

In this year's show. that most ele-
gant of colors—black—also was suddenly
back and used in a variety of ways. Tom
Fallon adopted it for his satin trench
coat on page 120, while Peter Demini
and Cerruti of Paris saw it as the logical
color for their evening suits.

Obviously, these thumbnail sketches
of this year’s collection don't begin to
capture the excitement of the event. But
they do offer us at least a glimpse of
tomorrow's clothes. Make room in your
wardrobe closet.

Ba

"Nurse, would you please do something about
thal? It's really gelling to be awfully depressing!”

DESSERT AT THE BELVEDERE
(continued from page 90)

copy of What's On in Singapore. 1 was
not worried about being asked about
Gunstone and Djamila; anything is pos-
sible in a big expensive hotel, and the ac-
commodating manager will always smile
and say he remembers you. In the eleva-
. "Yes, your Morris is а good

said Djam
The elevator boy and the bellhop
stared at her. My girls looked fine, very
preuy in 1 nd on the street, but in
welllighted hotels they looked diffe
ent—not out of place but promine
nd identifiable.
“I hate these Ameri
Gunstone.
“So do L" I said. “Waste of money.
“Nice and big” said Djamila. She
ме a low, throaty laugh. Most of my

n cars" said

girls have bad throats. Something 10 do
with their line of work—all those germs.
“Here you are, sah. Seven-ol-five,

id the Беор. He followed us in and
swung the suitcase onto a low table. T
could hear the newspapers shifting in-
side. He hadn't quite figured out the situ
ation. He started his spiel about the
lights and i-there'sanytl
but I gave him 50 cents
1 the door.

“Your light
switch.

I said, pushing the
Your TV, your washroom, your
wireless ng to add a
the occasion. The theme from Doctor
Zhivago came in on the radio, helping a
bit. "E chink everything is in order.

You couldn't do better than a Mor
said Gunstone. He creaked over
and took me by the arm. “What's she
like?” he asked in a whisper. 1 began to
have a hideous feeling that this was, in-
deed, his Jast stand. Killed in action on
the Belvedere border; destroyed while

tacking a jampot.

‘Oh, very rewarding,” 1 said.

Dj sitting on the edge of the
double bed, removing her silver bracelets
with dainty grace, admiring her arm,
isplaying her pretty fingernails to he
sell as she pulled each bracelet past
them.

Gunstone, in a stuffed chair, seemed
to breathe with difficulty as he twisted olf
one of his shoes. Then he pulled off the
sock and began to try to poke the
thing into his shoe with a trembling

mila

That was too much for me. T'm not
the type of feller who goes in for sym-
bols, but that was too much for me. On
my way to the door, I said, as heartily as
1 could, “III leave you two to get on

п it. Bye for now.”

The elevator boy, sceing the feller he

had just deposited on that floor, looked

y from me, at the button he
punching, and ! could tell from the

movement of his ears and a peculiar
tightening of a section of scalp on the
back of his head that he had summed up
the situation and was grinning foolishly.
1 felt like soc

“What's your name”

“Tony-lah,” he said. A person sobers
up when he has to tell a stranger his

we, Tony.” 1 handed him
id. "Nobody

likes a blabber.

That doll: would have come
пау, and 1 could have saved it if 1 bad
gone down the fire stairs, which was
ly did. But seven flights of
g unpainted cement was
1 my age should tolerate.

mo the
cool 1 armchair
ppily for a few minutes
reading What's On and looking up every
so often to admire the decor. Some of
nds did not think much of the
new Singapore hotels—too shiny and
tacky, they said: по character at all.
Character was weevils in your food,
metal folding chairs and a grouchy bar-
man who insulted you as he overcharged
you; it was a monsoon drain that hadn't
been cleared for months and а toilet
—like the one in the Bandung—located
in the middle of the kitchen. Someday, 1
thought, I'm going to reserve а room at
the Belvedere and burrow іп the blan-
kets of a wide bed—the conditioner
on full—and sleep for a week.
ground floor of the Belvedere w:
ian marble and there was a chande
hanging in the lobby that must have
en years to make. 1 was enjoying my
self in the solid comfort, sipping my gin,
looking at a seashell mural on the
lounge wall, periwinkles spilling out of
conchs, gilded sea urchins and. fingers of
coral; but 1 became anxious.

It was not only my
about Gunstone's engi
the annoying suspicion that the seven or
cight tourists there in the lounge were
jı my direction. They had seen
1 with Gunstone and. Djamila
they had guessed what I
was up to. The ones who weren't laugh-
i me despised me. If I had been
younger, they would h: id, Ah, what
а sharp lad, a real operator—you ve got
to hand it to hi but a middle-aged
m s the sume thing was a dull
dirty procurer. I tried to look unruflled,
cosing my legs and flicking through
the little pamphlet. Recrossing my legs,
1 felt an uncommon breeze against my
ankles: 1 wasn't wearing any socks.

How could 1 be so stupid? There 1
was in the lounge of an expensive hotel,
g my black Ah Chum worsted, my
spotless collar and shoes my amah had
buffed to a high gloss—but sockless!

di

Чо

we:

“Gee, Harold, when you said you wanted
to get into my раш...”

That was how they guessed my trade, by
my nude ankles. I wanted to leave, but 1
couldn't without calling attention to
myself. So 1 sat in the chair in а way that
made it possible for me to push at the
knees of my pants and lower my culls
over my ankles. I tried to convince my-
sell that these staring tourists didn't mat-
ter—they'd all be on the morning flight
to Bangkok
1 lifted my drink and caught a lady's
eye. She looked away. Returning to my
1 sensed her eyes drift over to
in. You never knew with these

other in public, sometimes h
sisterly foolishness. The о
people began staring. They were making
me miserable, ruining the only drink 1
could afford.

“Telephone call for Brishop Bradley

one

. Bishop Bradley. . The slow
nouncement cime over
the loud-spe: з the lounge, a doth-

faced box on the wall above a slender
palm in a copper pot. No one got up.
Two ladies looked at the Ioud-speaker.
It stopped, the voice and the hum be
hind it; there was an expectant pause in
the lounge, everyone holding his breath,
knowing the announcement would start

again in a moment, which it did, monot
onousl

“Bishop Bradley . . . telephone call
for Bishop Bradley. . . -

Now no one was looking at the loud-
speaker.

1 had fastened all the buttons on my
cker. 1 stood up and turned
patient face to the repeated com-
mand coming from the cloth-faced box.
I swigged the last of my gin and, with
the eyes of all those people on me and
the clerical garb I was wearing, strode
in the direction of the information desk.
1 knew that now they were sorry for star-
ing at my sockless ankles, for judging me
prematurely. “There goes the bishop.”
they were saying.

То keep up the show, I paused at the
desk and mumbled something: then I
walked out to Orchard Road. with a
stately episcopal ed there
nervously.

Alter a litte while, though, Gunstone
nd Djamila appeared in the hotel door
way and I offered up a small prayer of
thanksgiving: He had pulled through.
"The old boy's engine had not stopped

the Belvedere.

black suit ja

an

207

NEIL GOLDSCHMIDT /zzzoncr

BACK IN 1345. а pair of New Englanders—Francis W. Pettygrove
of Maine and Asa L. Lovejoy of Massachusetts—Hlipped a coin
to determine what they'd name their new city at the confluence
of the Columbia and Willamette rivers. Peuygrove won, and
the place was duly christened Portland: Lovejoy’s hoped-for
Boston, Oregon, was consigned to oblivion. Portland has since
muddled along fairly well, but its newly elected mayor, 32year-
old Neil Goldschmidt—who, when he takes office this month,
will be the youngest big-city mayor in the co 1s munic-
ipal decisions can мо longer be left 10 chan с got to
have a plan.” Goldschmidt told. Port ag his hard-
n May's nonpartis у. when, aided
by doorbell-ringing housewives and students. he astonished the
pros by winning ar majority. “Portland [population
619] is a very sm g city.” the mayor-elect points out.
“In terms of growth and problems. we're about ten years be
areas.” So, he believes, his town still ha
residential decay. poisoned air and asph
icis. The automobile ranks high. in
phy: “h eats up too much land." И
s now planned for Portland were built. he charges. by
1990 one out of ten persons on the city's bedroom east side will
have been evicted by а highway or be living right beside one.
To head off city problems, Goldschmidt proposes better mass

est E

buried business dist

ids de

idt, who first drew attention as
‚ was elected а city commissioner
1970. Ever self to promoting
the consolid surround
County: “I'm willing to work myself out of a job,” he avers.
And into what? А local newspaperman observes: "The may-
оғ job has not traditionally been a steppingstone to highea
ойсе in Oregon. Хей looks as if he might be the exception.”

their пей
head of a local leg:

g Multnomah

PHOTOGRAPHY BY JEFF COHEN

ROBERT DUVALL face without a name

AF you иғмемвғк Tom Hagen. the German-Irish consigliere
in The Godfather, or M* A*S* H's. Major Frank Burns, the
pious surgeon who coupled with Hot Lips Houlihan after
blurting "God's will be done,” then you might. sympathize
With the man who played them, а man most moviegoers know
I. "Yeah." he says, “Tm

only as "whatzisiame"— Robert Du
the guy you usually read about in the closing ph of a
review: you know. the one that begins. ‘Also featured. in the
film is..." The 4Lycarold San Diego native with the Low

East Side accent is used to such faint praise. "Tt comes with the
job." he says. "See. Гус always been a character actor and lm
very deliberate about the roles I choose. Because of that. 1 sup
pose, E don't get thc recognition I should, But if I can't
in the morning feeling charged about my work. then wh.
point?” Duvall's carcer began when he left the Army
to study at the Nei

n 1955
hborhood Playhouse іп New York. After
а journeyman's dues onstage, he debuted onscreen as the piti

fully rewarded Boo Radley in To Kill a Mockingbird. More
character party followed. and even a рай of leads in two
limited-disribution cllorts until, on the crest of bis successes
in The Godfather and—as Jese | The Great Nosth-
field, Minnesota Raid, Duvall tested lor, and got, his frst
starr 73. columnist

Im pl the cop,” Duvall says, "but 1 wed to do it only
on the condition that 1 don't duplicate Gene Hackman's Pop-
eye. I have my ow

ideas for the character and he's got a whole
new set of nuances. movements, cccentricities--hell, he's a
completely dilferent guy. That's what I'm most excited about"
According to The New York Times's Vincent Canby. “Duvall
is such a good actor that he seems entirely different from one
film to the next.” Odds are that as long as he stays enthusiastic,
they сап only remember his name

fences will, too. Now, i

personal

GAIL SHEEHY getting

lism is horseshit.” says С
is new joum:
antecedents go back to Homer”
y ghi up in a controversy over her per-
lization of an article in New Y ine. to which she
is a contributing editor. The pica 4 Sug: =
took her and her readers to the

“CALLING гг ‘new

tion hustle. Forced by circum: ticularly the hookers’
refusal 10 confide in a "straight" woman——to research some of
her story with secondhand i ion. she wrote it up as if it

ud. It wasn't un

revealed that she had ex;
ally from the text.
research

publication that her editor,
aph
amount

helps to be a wom
tilistic interest in
по а book, Hustling, duc out

about the
м appeared
he wrote ly

Is of the Essence,
from а

M
Shechy's lit
frst play in the hire
night. After thar. most of her
ballerina. Not until she
d college did Shechy

and got the mumps on өрені
energy was directed tow
had 10 choose between l
ide that ballet wı
‚ induding five y
s» page of the Ne
In her spare time, she wrote lor New Yor
Sunday n Looking back at some of her assignments,
she recalls, “After my piece өп the amphetamine epidemic,

tened my lile. 1 had 10 move. But I
c my lile hom what 1 write about.” Whatever
sind ob journalism thats culled, for Gail Sheehy, it works,

ад

риот

PLAYBOY

210

TRIAD/ THE PASSENGER
(continued from page 101)

into Nantucket so many years ago. They
used to line the port rail and shout:
Oh, the Perrys are here and the Saltons
and the Greenoughs.” It was partly gen-
uine, partly show. When he returned 19
his seat, his companion had removed her

mobcap and her unguent. Her beauty in
the light of morning was powerful, He

could not diagnose what he found so com-
pelling—nostalgia, perhaps—but. her tea
tures, her pallor, the set of her
conesponded чо his sense of
“Good morning." he said. “Did you sleep
well?
She frowned: she seemed to find this
ipertinent, “Does one ever?" she asked.
опат note, She put her mysterious

book into a handbag with a zipper and
gathered her things. When they landed
at Fiumicino, he stood aside to let her
pass and followed her up the aisle. He

went behind her through the passpor
immigration
he

id health check and joined
се where you claim your

at the pla
5.

But look, look. Why does he point out
her bag to the porter and why. when
they both have their bags, does he follow
her out to the cabstand, where he ba
gains with a driver for the trip into
Why does he join her in the са?
Is he the undiscourageable masher tha
aded? No. no. He is her husband.
wife, the mother of his children
woman he has worshiped ра
ately for nearly 30 years.

S101

“Well—Ge-sund-heit!”

(continued from page 95)
sour can be adjusted at the last mo-
ment, to suit the crowd's taste

Most punch-bowl disasters are due to
overdilution from melting ice. This can
be avoided by mixing your punch in
vance and refrigerating it—to chill and
mellow before pouring over ice. Present

iti modest-sized bowl. refilling from.
the fridge as needed. Use fresh. hard-
frozen ice with each new batch. Ice can

in te

perature as much as ten de-
ces, Cold ice chills faster and melis
slower А chunk of ice holds up better
than cubes. You can make a small block
at home by freezing water in a milk
emon or in ісесшізе пау with the
separator removed. You сап also reduce
dilution by freezing some of the punch
1 it as ice, to chill the mixture.
Allow extra time lor this, as whiskey
retards Ireez

When figuring the yardage you'll get
from onc bowl, plin on three to four
d about four drinks

ounces per serv

lor cach customer over the course of a
game. For . use Large.
sturdy glitssw How punch

cups or stemmed glasses. And food, il
you offer it, should be simple and hearty:
wedges ol cheese, boneless roasts that slice
easily, good bread and hand-held relishes.

So here are rrAYmoOY s seven snper
bowls—cnough to carry you through the
six play-oll games and the finale in good

QUICK KICK
(35-40 drinks)

1 quart bottled-in-bond bourbon (100
proot) or 114 fifths straiglit bourbon

1 pint peach liqu

1 quart cranberry-juice cocktail

1 cup lime juice

n dub soda or

l, drained.
ts and chill.

16-oz. can dvu
Міх dwst 4 i
serve, pour over block of
Add chilled soda and fruit and stir
quickly. A bit of the Fruit should go into

To

ice aud stir.

1 boule Lillet
1 pint orange liqueur (see note)
y, cup lime j
1 cup seedless or seeded grapes, halved
bottles champagne, chilled

Slice oranges into bowl. Sprinkle light-
ly with sugar. Turn several times, Pour
in Lillet, orange liqueur and lime juice.
Chill in refrigerator. When serving. pour
half of mixture imo chilled punch

FORA
DENIL OF
ARUN

Québec! That’s where it’s all happening
this winter. We'll give you a devilish choice
of slopes to flash your style on. And a heady
aprés-ski life to swing into. Parties. Dinners.
And new friends who'll invite you.
(She may even teach you French!)
Next day it's back
on the big hills.
Or a dozen other
winter fun things.
You name it.

Québec gives you
a good run
for your money.
And you'll love
every bit of it.
You devil, you!

OMEGA INTRODUCES
THE TOTAL CHRONOMETER LOOK.
FOR CHRONOMETERS.

A chronometer is a watch with a “degree” in accuracy—and the
papers to prove it. Yet up until now chronometers have been iden-
tified only by a tiny word on the face of the timepiece.

Omega reasoned that since an Omega chronometer is more than
an ordinary watch, it should have a distinct look of its own—bal-
anced and precise. just like the chronometer inside.

That's why the Omega Constellation Chronometer flows so very
smoothly from case to band and back again. The Constellation is a
completely integrated design, inside and out, all around. The case

is carved out of a solid block of metal (18 karat gold or stainless
steel), then finished by hand. Each link of the band is precisely
contoured and fitted to the next, so that the overall look is one of
Perfect harmony.

Take a good look at the Omega Constellation. It's a good way to
tell a total chronometer from a watch.

Omega Constellation Chronometers. In stainless and 18k gold,
from $195 to $1350. For free brochure write Omega Watch Co.,
Omega Bldg., 301 E. 57th Street, New York, N. Y. 10022.

OMEGA
OPER CER o

O OMEGA CONSTELLATION CHRONOMETERS

bowl Add v, cup grapes and 1 bottle
chilled champagne. Stir once or twice to
blend. Garnish each serving with grapes.
Repeat with remaining mixture and
champagne when needed, so your punch
is fresh and sprightly.

(Note: You can substitute vodka or
brandy for the orange liqueur, to get a
little more zing and a Пие less sweet
ness Using exu champagne, rather
than brui, will make your bowl a bit
sweeter.)

LATERAL PASS
(50 drinks)

2 fifths dark Puerto Rican rum

114, cups lime juice

1 cup orgeat (almond syrup)

I pint rain-water made
sherry

гог. can pineapple juice

nts club soda, chilled

ion of fresh fruits—

mcs, lemons, oranges, strawlx

grapes, apples, pineapple, grapefruit

or cock!

ries,

sections
Mix first 5 ingredients and chill. Pour
half into bowl over block of ice. Add
1 pint chilled soda and some fruit for

garnish and stir quickly. Repeat with rest
when needed.

oLD rro
(35 drinks)

1 fifi Jamaica rum
1 fifth light whiskey
1% cups lime juice
1 cup brown sugar, packed

ux or fruit liqueur

4 ozs. créme de по]
9 quarts club sod.
2 limes or lemons, thinly
Con n. whiskey and lime juice.

dissolved. Add

bine r

Add sugar, stirring

queur and chill, Pour over block of ice,

adding chilled soda just before serving.
Float [ruit on top for garnish.

(Note: This is a modern variation on
the Colonial pride, fish-house punch, and
quite potent. IE you prefer a little extra
dilution, pour over block of ice immedi
ately, instead of prechilling.)

QUARTERBACK SNEAK
(90 drinks)

1 pint fresh strawberries. hulled
1 fresh pineapple, peeled. cored and
cubed
2 cups st
2 cups lemon juice
бог. can frozen. orange-juice concen-
trate, half-thawed
2 cups water
2 boules kirsch
2 quarts club soda, chilled
Slice berries into bowl. Add pineapple
and sug, 1 slosh around. Pour in
lemon juice, orange-juice concentrate
mix well and chill. Wh

and water; n

serving, pour half of mixture over block
of ice, stir in 1 bottle kirsch and 1 qu
club soda. Repeat wi i

ture, kirsch and soda when needed.

WINNING TOUCHDOWN
(30-35 drinks)

6 eggs

1 cup sugar

1 quart cold milk or 1 pint milk, 1 pint
light cream.

1 quart cold strong coffee

1 filth cognac

pint coffee liqueur

Salt

Vo pint heavy crea

Bitter chocolate

Separate eggs. Beat yolks with 54 cup

light and lemon-colored. Stir

n milk and coffee. Slowly stir in cognac

nd liqueur. Chill for about 30 minutes.

whites with a good pinch of salt

until they begin to hold their shape.

Gradually add remaining 14 cup sugar,

beating until stiff but not dry. Carefully

foll beaten egg whites and whipped

cream into egg-yolk mixture. Top with

shavings of bitter chocolate.

n, whipped

EXTRA POINT
(30-35 drin

1 quart tomato juice

3 cups beef bouillon

1 cup lemon juice

Bay leaf

Several grinds black

Pinch curry powder

14 teaspoon celery salt

1 bottle aquavit

Lemon slices

Heat first 7 ingredients together.
and modify seasoning, if necessary. Bring
just to a boil. Add aquavit, stir, remove
from heat. Should be served warm but
not hot, with lemon slice in cach mug
or cup. This can be made in 2 batches
quite easily, splitting the warm mixture
1 adding Y bottle aquavit to each
batch.

Now that we've given you the bas
game plan on how to serve up seve
super punch bowls, the ball, as they
is in your hands. Whether you opt for
a quarterback.
extra point or whatever, the
can't help but be а wi

pper

ad result

“Say, there! This is my corner!”

p

PLAYBOY

212

TRIAD/ THE BELLY

secretions I had to refine informed me
of how painful and ridiculous he felt.
When the shorts were inflated, he read
from a book of directions
formed some gymna
worst pain to be inflicted on me so
and, when the exercises were finished,
various parts were so abnormally
noted that we spent а

to recog

as his detestation of solitary

- He liked games well enough.
but he did not like gymnastics. Each
ng. he would go to the bathroom
and touch his toes ten times. His but-
tocks (there's another story) scraped the
washbasin and his forehead grazed the
toilet scat. I knew from the secretions
that came my way that this ерегіс
was spiritually crushing. Later he moved
to the country for the summer and took
up jogging and weight lifting. While lift-
ing weights, he lea in
d Rusian, hoping to give
nity, but he

ed to count

Japanese
performance some di
not successful. Both jogging and
ight lilii rrassed him intense
Th ctor in my favor was

g emh

second

(continued from page 102)

hiis conviction that we lead a simple life
"E really lead a very simple life," he
often said. If this were so, T would have
no chance for prominence, but there is,
I think. no first-class restaurant in Ew
rope. Asia, Africa or the British Isles to
which I have not been taken and asked
to perform. He often says so. Going
fter a dish of crickets in Tokyo, he
e me a friendly pat and said. "Do.
your best, man.” So long as he considers
this to be a simple life, my place in the
world is secure. When I fail him, it
not through malice or intent, After
Homeric dinner with 14 entrees i
southern Russia, we spent a night to-
gether in the bathroom. This was in
Tiflis. I seemed to be threatening his
life. It v the morning. He w:
crying with pain. He w

as three i

s weeping and

perhaps | know more than any other
t of his physique about the true
loneliness of thi away!" he

shouted at me. "Go What could
be more pitiful and absurd than a n.
ked man at the dog hou trange
country casting out his vital? We went
to the window to hear the wind in the
trees. "Oh, I should have paid more
attention to spiritual t he shouted

H I were the belly of a secret agent or

“The Hogans have two guns, Ihe Jacksons
have three guns, the Wrights have five guns, the

Spencers have four guns... .

a reigning prince, my role in the clash
of time wouldn't have been any differ-
ent. I represent time more succinctly than
any scarecrow with a scythe. Why should
so simple a force as time—told accu-
rately by the clocks in his house—cause
him to groan and swear? Did he feel
that some specious youthfulness was his
principal, his only lure? 1 know that 1
reminded him of the pain he suffered in
his relationship to his father. His father
retired at 55 and spent the rest of
his life polishing ston
trying to learn
from records. He
an athletic man, but
had been overtaken in the middle of
the way by an independent abdomen.
He seemed, like his son, to have no capac-
ity to age and fatten gracefully. His
paunch, his abdomen, seemed to break
his spirit. His abdomen led him to
stoop. to walk clumsily, to sigh and to
have his trousers enlarged. His abdomen
seemed like some precursor of the angel
of death, and was Farnsworth, touching
his toes in the bathroom cach mo
struggling with the same angel?

The
I don't know wh
went around the world three times
months, He may have thought that tr
el would heighten his metabeli:
diminish my importance. I won't go into
the hardships of safety belts and а cha
otic eating schedule. We saw all the
usual places as well as Nairobi, Mad:
‚ Mauritius, Bali, New Guinea, New
Caledonia and New Zealand. We saw
Madang, Goroka, Lee, Rabaul, Fiji,
Reykjavik, Thingvellir, Akureyri, Nar-
sarsuak, Kagsiarsuk, Bukhara, Irkutsk.
Ulan Bator and the Gobi Desert. Then
there were the Galápagos, Patagonia, the
Mato Grosso jungle and, of course, the
Seychelles and the Amirantes

It ended or was resolved one night
sseto's He be;
and Parma ham and with this he
two rolls and bunter. After this, he h
pagheti alla carbonara, a steak with
iied potatoes, a serving of frog's legs,
whole spigola roasted in paper, so
chicken breasts, a salad with an oil dres
ing, three kinds of cheese and a thick
zabaglione. Halfway through the meal, he
d to give me some leeway, but he way
not resentful and L felt that victory might
be in sight. When he ordered the zaba
glione, I knew that I had won or that wı
had arrived at a sensible truce. He was
not trying to conceal, dismiss or forget
me and his secretions were bland. Le:
ing the table, he had to give me anothe
two inches, so that walking across thc
piazza I could feel the night wind and
hear the [oun ad we've lived
pily together ever sin

limber
like his son, he

ad been a

there was the year we traveled.
drove him. but we
12

1 the meal with figs

Cutty Sark at Christmas. |

>. Cutty Sark Scots Whisky. The only giftof its kind:

PLAYBOY

214 three pale hydrangea

INSIDE OUTSIDE COMPLEX

My husband," she said, pouring, “al-
iked China tea. You don't mind?"
m very partial to it. It appeals to
thetic sense. Jasmine flowers float-
May I ask what your husband used

10 doi

Ken was an assessor for am English
insurance company. He was English."

He approved mightily, fingers wide-
spread, chin enthusiastically nodding.

A fine profession! A very fine pro-
fession!”

So fine” she
took out a policy о
bare thousand pou
dressmaker.
amily?" he asked tenderly

She smiled. softly.

“My daughter, Leslie. She is at a
boarding school, 1 am hoping to send
her to the university. What is your
proposition?”

Her profile, from being soft as а sea
Hower, changed to the obtuseness of a
death mask. But, frontally, her lower lip
caught the light, her eyes were alert, the
face hard with character.

“It is а simple little proposition. Your

splendid. object,
but for your business quite unsuitable.
Any woman looking into it can only half
sce herself. What you need is а great,
wide, large, giltframed mirror, pinned
inst the wall, clear as crystal, a
job, where a lady can
sce herself from top to toc twirling and
turning like а ballet dancer." He smiled
mockingly. "Give your clients status.
He proceeded earnestly. "Worth another
two hundred pounds a year to you. You
would be employing two assistants in no
I happen to have a mirror just like
that in my showrooms. I've had it for six
years and nobody has wanted it.” He
paused, smiling from jawbone to jaw-
bone. "I would like you to take it.
Asa gilt.”
shrewdly he watched her turning her
teacup between her palms as if she were
пау glas, while she ob-
rj shrewdly out

she
leaned |
How do you mean, ‘Go on'?
"You have only told me half your

са,

proposition. You want something in
rerumz"

He laughed with 1 teeth,
tongue and gullet, enjoying himself
hugely.

g him.

He rose, walked to the window, now
пе of those black mirrors that painters
minate color in order to re
ight had blotted ош cvery-
impresion of two or
leaves. wavering

use to c
design, The n
thing except. а

(continued from page 181)

outside in the December wind and, in-
side, himself and a dark Jamp shade. The
reflection made him happy. He felt that
he had already taken up residence here.
He turned to the woman looking at him
coldly under eyebrows as heavy as two
dark mustaches and flew into a rage at
her resistance.

‘Damn it! Can't you give me credit
for wanting to give you something lor
your own sake?” As quickly, he calmed,
The proud animal was staring timid!
humbly, contitely. Or was she having
him on again? She could hide anything
behind that lovely squint of hers. He de-
manded abruptly, “Do you ever go into
Dublin?”

She glanced ш the doors of her
workroom.

“I must go there tomorrow morning
to buy some linings. Why?

“Tomorrow 1 have to deliver а small
Regency chest to a lady in €
On my way back, I could call for you
here at ten o'clock, drive you imo Dub-
n and show you that big mirror of
mine, and you can take it or leave it, as
“Не got up to go. "OK?

She gave an unwilling assent, but as
she opened the front door to let him
out, added, “Though 1 am not at all

sure that 1 entirely understand you,
Mr. в"
"Aren't you?” he asked with an impish

No,
“Not at all sure.”

1 am not!" she

id «тоху.

way across her ten feet ol gard
he turned and laughed derisively, “Have
t the surface of your mirror,”
aged out and was lost in the
foggy dusk.

She returned slowly to her studio. She
approached her mirror and peered over
its surface. Flawless, Not a breath of
dust. With one spiuled finger, she re-
moved a flyspeck. What did the silly
tle man mean? Without being aware of
what she was doing, she looked at her-
If, patted her hair in place, smooth-
ned her fringe, ged ihe shoulder
peaks of her blouse, then, her dark eye-
brows floating, her bi ids
her back straight, her chin and boso
lifted, she deawled, “I really am afraid,
Mr. B. I still do not at all under-
nd chuckled at the effect.

arly mouthed the
ized her scissors

lly to work. She

would simply let the temo'dock tra
take her to Dublin.

He took her to Dublin,
and to he
that there was a second рап w hi
proposition. He sometimes persuaded the
owners of beuer-clas country hotels to
allow him to leave one or two of his a

nd to lunch,

tiques, with his card attached, on view in
their public rooms. It could be a Dutch
landscape, or a tidy piece of Sheraton
or Hepplewhite; free advertisement. for
him, free decor for them. Would she like
to cooperate? “Where on carth,” some
well-off client would say, “did you get
that lovely thing?”—and she would say,
"Bolger's Antiques.” She was so pleased
to have foreseen that there would be
some such quid pro quo that she swal-
lowed the bait. So, the next Sunday,
though he did not bring his big mirror
he brought a charming Boucher fire
screen, The following Sunday, his van
was out of order, but he did b
handsome pair of twisted Georgian
candlesticks for her mantelpiece. Every
Sunday, except during the Chrisma
holidays, when he did not care to
her daughter, he brought something
тусй bronze chariot, Empire
style, containing a clock, a neat Nelson
sideboard, a copper warming pan and a
r of antique dueling pistols, so that
ways had something further to
discuss over their afternoon tea. It all
amused and pleased her until the day
came when he produced a pair of (he
swore) genuine Tudor curtains for her
front window and she could no longer
conceal from herself that she w "
formally courted and that her living
room was being transformed from what
it had been four months ago.

The climax came at Easter, when, for
Leslie's sake, she weakly allowed him to
present her with two plane tickets for a
Paris holiday. In addition, he promised
to visit her bungalow every day and
sleep there every night while she was
away. On her return, she found that he
had left a comic WELCOME HOME card on
her hall table; that her living room was
sweet with mimosa; that he had covered
her old-fashioned wallpaper with (he ex-
plained) a hand-painted French paper
in (she would observe) a pauwern of
Notre Dame, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc
de Triomphe and the Opéra; that he
had replaced her old thread-worn car-
pet—she and Кеп had bought it nearly
20 years ago in Clerys in O'Connell
Street with (he alleged) а quali Persian
arpet 300 years old; and exchanged
her plastic central-clectric shade for (he
mentioned) a Waterford cluster. In fact,
he had got rid of every scrap of her
except her mirror, which now hung over
her fireplace, her pink lamp and, she
said it to herself, “Me?”

The next Sunday, she let him in, sat
opposite him and was just about to say
her rehearsed bit of gallows humor—"I
am sorry to have to tell you, Bertie, that
I don't particularly like your life, may I
have mine back again, pleasez"—when
she saw him looking radiantly at her,
realized that by accepting so many dis
guised gilts she had pur herself
fake position
shame and rage.

—a

be

and burst tears of

Bertie,

into

whose

215

“Not bad. Not bad at all.”

PLAYBOY

years of servitude with his mother had
1 female tears seem as ludicrous
baby's squealing face, laughed
ingly at her, enchanted to see this
ul woman so completely in his

Ihe experience filled him with
such joy that he sank on his knecs beside
her, Hung his arms about her and said,
“Maisie, will you marry me?”

She drew back her fist, gave him such
a dout on the jaw that he fell on hi
poll, shouted, "Get up, you worm! And
get ош!” With hauteur, he went.

She held out against him [or six
months, though still permitting him to
it her every Sunday for afternoon tea
and a chat. In November, without warn-
ing, her resistance gave out. Worn dow!
by h

powci
powci

т Leslie?
erhaps by a weariness of the flesh at
the prospect of years of dressmaking?
Certainly by попе of the hopes, dreams,
illusions, [cars and needs that might
ve presed other hard-presed women
to holy wedlock; above all, not by the
desires of the flesh—these she had never
felt for Bertie Bolger.

He made it а lavish wedding, which
she did not dislike; he also made it
showy, which she did not like. But she
was to find that he did everything to ex-
cess, including eating, always delending
himself by the plea that if a man or a
woman is any good, you cannot have too
much of him; a principle that ought to
have led him to marry the fat lady in the
circus and her to marry Paddy O'Brien,
the Irish giant, who was nine feet tall
nd whose skeleton she said she had
once seen preserved in the College of
Surgeons. “Is he all swank and bluff"
she wondered. Even on their honey
moon, she discovered that after a day of
boasting about his prowess compared
with all his competitors, it was ten to
one that he would either be crying on
her shoulder long past midnight or yelp-
ing like a puppy in one of his night-
mares, both of which performances (her
word) she bore with patience until the
morning he dared to give her dogs abuse
for being the sole cause of all of them,
whereat she ripped him with a kick like
а cassowary’s. She read an article about
xhibitionism. That was him! She read
a thriller about а тапіс depre:
gler and, peeping cautiously across the
pillows, felt that she should never go to
bed with him without one of his dueling
pistols under her side of the mattress.

Within six months, they both knew
that their error was so plenary, so toi
so irreducible that it should have been
beyond specch—and was not. He said
that he felt a prisoner іш this bloody
bungalow of hers. He said that whenever
he stood inside her window (and his

sive stran-

216 Tudor curtains) and looked out at those

of lovely, loving, kindly,
warm, glowing, little peaked bungalows
outside there, he knew that he had
ked the only goddamn one of the
whole lot that was totally uninhabitable.
She said she had been as free as the wind
ssion of her
junk.
she was a bully. She told him
bluffer. He said, “1 thought you
ns, but Ive eaten beuer." She
“You're а dope and a dreame
d, “You're a dressmaker!” She

hundreds

until he took forcible poss
property and filled it with his
He said

aid,
“You don't know from one minute to

the next whether you want to be Jesus
Christ or Napoleon.” He shouted, “Out-
side the four walls of this bungalow,
youre an ignoramus, apart from what
little Ive been able to teach you.
She siid, "Outside your business, Bertie
Bolger, and that doesn’t bear close
amination, if 1 gave you three minutes
to tell me all you know, it would be si;
too much.” All of it as meaning-
d unjust as every marital quarrel
е Adam and Eve began to bawl with
voice, "But you said . . " and "I
know what | said, but you said. ”
"Yes, and then you said... .”

His older, her more recent club ас
quaintances chewed a dearer cud. At
the common table, three or four of
them mentioned him one day over
lunch. "They used their eyebrows as
words to describe one of those waxwork
effigies that manage somehow or other
to get past the little black ball into tli
most select clubs. Mimes, mimics, fair
imitations, plausible impersonations of
The Real Thing: a procession of pup-
pets, a march of masks, a covey of
levee of liars, chaps for whom
s means ancedotes; al-
truism, alms; discipline, suppression; jus-
tice, calling in the police; pleasure,
vomiting in the washroom; pride, swank;
love, lust; honesty, guilt; religion, fear;
p |. But would
any of them
They would look you str:
button of your waistcoat with-
out humor, “A white man." And Maisie?
"A very nice little wife." Dear Jesus! Is
life in all clubs reduced е this to
white men and nice little wives? Some-
times to worse. As well as clubbites, there
are clubbesses to whom the truth is told
between the sheets and by whom it is en
ged, exaggerated, falsified and spread
After all, the men had merely
kicked the testicles of his reputation; the
wives castrated him. They took Maisie's
ра А fine, natural countrywoman,
they said; honest as the daylight; warm
as toast if you did not cross her, and
then she could handle her tongue like
the tail end of a whip; a woman who
carried her liquor like a man; as agile at
contract as а trout; could have mothered

minuti

less
si
one

the top

ten and would never give one to Bertie,
whom she let marry her only because she
aw he was the sort of weakling who a
ways wants somebody to rely on and did
not find out until too late that he was
miles away from what every woman
wants, which is somebody she can rely
Their judgment made him seem less
he was, her morc. The result of it
s that Bertie was soon feeling the cold
wind of Dublin's whispering gallery on
his neck and had to do something to as-
sert himself unless he was to fall dead
under the sting of its icy mockery
Accordingly, one Sunda
November, a year after his marriage, he
packed two suitcases, called а cab and
drove off down the lighted avenue to re
ame his not-umimportant role in life as
the Mr. В. of some lonely sexless guest-
house. It had not, at the end, been her
wish. If she had not grown a liule fond
of him, she did feel sorry for him. Be-
ides, next autumn Leslie would be down
on her fingers and up on her toes at the
starting line for the university, waiting
eagerly for the revolver's 201"
This is «Шу. Bert she had
shrugged as they saw the taxi pulling up
outside their window. ands and
wives alw:

room at his lost

It's nothing
d said, to comfort him.
1 pleaded.
house. But they carry on."

"You bitch!" he had snarled, making
for the door. "You broke my heart. ]
thought you were perfeci

She need not have winced, knowing
well that they had both married for
reasons the heart knows nothing of. Nev-
ertheless, hearing the taxi go, she had
gone gloomily into her dining room,
which must again become her work-
room. The 60 pounds that he had agreed
to pay her every month, though much
more than she had had before they met,
would not support two people. Looking
about, she noted, with annoyance
she had got d
out of him.

So then, a dusky afternoon in Bray, at
a quarter to five o'clock, lighting-up
t 5:15, a year later, All Souls’ Eve,
d to the souls of the dead suffer-
ng in the fires of purgatory, Berti
Bolger, benedic and bachelor, aged
44, tubby, ruddy, graying, walking se-
dately along the sea front, sees ahead
of him the Imperial Hotel and stops
dead, remembering.

“I wonder!” he wonders and, N
ing over the promenade's railing, sky
blue with orange knobs, rusting to death
since the 19th Century, looks down at
the damp pebbles of the beach. "How i
she doing these days?” and turns inland
toward the town,

At this ambiguous hour, few houses in

never

n-

©1971 A. J. Reynolds Tobacco Company, Winston-Salem, N.C;

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

25 mg. "tar" L6 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report AUG.72.

PLAYBOY

218

Bray show lighted windows. The season
is over, the day silent, Iandladics once
more reckoning th snoozing,
ing of minute repairs, or pr
а, The Billows. Swan
Pecring ahead of him,
Mr. В. sees, away down the avenue, a
glow from a window and feels there-

at the first, delicate, subcutaneous tingle
has so often felt in the presence

of some desirable object whose value the
owner does not know. Nor docs he know
why those rare lighted windows аге so
troubling. suggestive, inviting, reject
amiliar, foreign, like any childhood's
nonesuch, griffin, mermaid, unicorn,
hippogrilf, dragon, centaur, семей castle
in the mountains where there grows the
golden rose of the world’s end. Know-
ingly, he ignores that first fu-oll glow,
turns from it as from a temptation to
sin, turns right, turns left, walks faster
nd faster as from pursuing danger, un-
til his head begins to swim and his heart
to drumroll at the sight, along the per-
of the familiar avenue, of a
lighted roscate window that he knows he
knows. As he comes near to Lorelei,
hc looks carefully around him t0 be
sure that he is not observed by some
filthy Paul Pry who might remember
him from that year of his socalled
murriage. He slows his pace. He slowly
stalks the pillar of his wife's house. He
peeps inside and straightway has to lean
inst the pillar to steady himself, fecl-
his old dream begin to swell and
swell his old disturbance mount, fear
and joy invade his blood at the sight of
her seated before the fire, placid, sel
absorbed, her teacup in her hand, her
eyes on her book, the pink glow on
her three-quarter more than ever
appealing, inciting, sealed, bonded,
ttainable.

He has neglected her. He owes her res-
titution. He enters the garden, twangs
the gate, mounts the steps, rings the bell,
turns to see the dark enfold the town. A

ter of ine The Бев of the

aci

Egyptian pillars bearing, in
ised lettering, the out otto of
ne, LABOR VITA MEA,

It's Berti
“Hello, Maisi
"I'm so glad you dropped in, Bertie.

Come in. Take your coat off and draw
up to the fire, It's going to be a shiver-
ng night. Let me fix you a drink. The
I suppose?” Her back to him: "As
ter of fact, I've been expecting you
every Sunday. Гус been waiting and
waiting for you." She laughed. "Or do
you expect me to say Гус been longing

ed n
his

and longing for you since you aban-
doncd me last November?"

He looks out, shading his eyes, secs the
ndow opposite light up. They, too,
p shade,

the Naughtons
n't it? It looks very cozy.
Very nice. 1 sometimes used to think I'd

there, looking across

at you."
She glances at it, handing him the
whiskey, and then they sit opposite

each other.

“They're all alike, those bi
Why did you come today, Ber

“ls our marriage anniversary. 1
didn't know what gift to send you, so 1
thought 1 would just ask. Hello! Your
mirror is gone!”

“L had to put it back in my workroom.
If you want to give me a present, give

ngalows,

“Тауыш 1 never did
did 12 Next Sunday, I swear! Cross my
heart! ТЇ bring it out without fail. If
the van is free.”

In this easy way they chatted of this
and that, and he went on his way, and
he came back the next Sunday, though
not with his m ime every
Sunday month after month for tea ога
drink. On his fourth visit she produced,
for his greater comfort, an old pair of
felt slippers he had left behind him, and
on the filth Sunday а pipe of his that
she had discovered at the bottom of a
drawer. Не did not come around Christ-

ing that Leslie would prefer to
be alone with her mother. Instead, he
spent it at the Imperial Hotel. In a bluc-
paper hat? She refused to let him send
them both to but she

did let him send Leslie. For her own
ter present she asked, "Could I pos-
; Berie'—and he

pr p his prom-
ise, saying that someday she would be
sure to give up dressmaking and not
need it, and anyway, he was somehow

id. after all, she had
a mirror of her own, but he promised,
theless, that he would give it to her

soon. The music of the steam carrousel
played on the front, the town became
lish tour up and

е prome-

made, voices carried, and now
he went for a swim before cı
until imperceptibly it was autun
with the rainy light fading
four and her rosy window appe:
him to come inside, and in her n
һай
Ба TOR e E
m, and speculatively back
hind him pouring his di
were her husband and thi
home. Jt was a full усаг а

round the
her he-

in, and No-

vember, and All Souls’ Eve, before she
saw him drive up outside her gate ac-

icd by his man Scofield’ in his
nd-pink van, marked along its
side in Gothic silver lettering worckx"
ANTIQUES. Protruding from it was his big
mirror, wrapped p. She
greeted it from her steps with a mock
cheer that died when Scofiekl's eye fit-
ted from the mirror to her door, and
from door back to mirror, and Бегіс
me, and she did the same,
1 three knew at once u
ror was too big. Still, they tried, until
the three of them, in the garden, were
row looking at them-
selves in it where it leaned against the
1 privet hedge lining the avenue,
cold wind cooling the sweat on Шей
foreheads.

1 suppose,” Bertie said, "we could cut
the bloody thing up! Or down!"
remembering one of those many elegant,
useless, disconnected things he
learned school from the Benedi
he quoted from the Psalms d s
Christ about the soldi alvary dic-
lor his garments: serunt sibi
vestimenta mea et super vestem. meam
miserunt. sortem."

"Go оп!” he interpreted. “Сш mc
frigging shirt in bits and. play cards for
me jacket and me pants," which was the
ign for her to lead him gently indoor:
and make three boiling-hot toddies for
their three shivering bones.

He was silent as he drank his first
dram, and his second. After the third.
dram he said, ОК. this was it, he would
^r come here again, moving with her
nd Scofield to the window to look at
his bright defeat leaning against the
pant hedge of pi

And. behold, it was glowing with the
rosiness of the window and the three of
them out there looking in at themselves
from under the falling darkness
wilderness of stars over town and s
vision so unlike]
inviting, promi
g that he swept her to h
her so long, so close, so tight that the
next he heard was the pink-and-bluc
an driving away down the avenue. He
ed for reassurance to the gleaming
imony in the garden and cried,
ell leave it there always! It. brighi
es everything more real!”

At which, as well she might, she burst
into laughter. "You bloody loon!” she
Ч stopped, remembering cour
bout how, at a certain season
of the y. i or а woman looking
imo the dark surface of a well may see
there not his or her own eyes but the
eyes of love staring up.

“If that is what you really want," she

i tly and looked out in awe at
them both staring in.

et.

g, demanding, enlist-
n and held

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222

PLAYBOY POTPOURRI

people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement

ENTER BACKSTAGE

There's something about the term backstage tour that conjures up the
image of brown-shoed chicken farmers and their wives from Hickory
Corners, Michigan, being herded about by some tip-hungry cuff shooter
with a toothpick in his mouth. In the case of Backstage on Broadway at
700 Eighth Avenue in Manhattan, nothing could be further from the
truth. Backstage really does take you behind the scenes for an
educational as well as a leisurely look at what makes a Broadway or an
off-Broadway production tick. And your guide is someone who's
professionally connected with the theater world: perhaps a lighting
director, a stage manager or even an actor between roles. There's plenty
of time for questions, and if you're a student majoring in theater or
communications, Backstage cn also arrange special tour package deals
that are below the going 53.50 rate. Sorry, OA! Calcutta! has dosed.

NOW, DON'T
LAUGH, BUT...

The next time you wake up
with a jerk—having
experienced some kind of
premonition, that is—don't just
roll over and nod off again,
write the damn thing down
and sen to Robert Nelson
at the Central Premoi
Registry, Box 482, Times
Square Station, New York, New
York 10036. Nelson's hobby is
recording premonitions, and to
date he’s logged in more than
0— about one percent of

which have been fulfilled. Some
of the hunches sent to Nelson
are pretty farfetched, but the
wildest опе came from a
contributor who fecls certain
that Dr. Benjamin Spock will
be appointed Secretary of

Ih, Education and Welfare.
-| But don't hold your breath.

PERIOD PERIODICAL

“Backward, turn backward, O ‘Time, in
your flight," wrote American poetess
Elizabeth Akers Allen bi 1860. And

if she'd hung around until now, she could
have got her wish by subscribing to a
100-page digest-sized English magazine
called Then, which reconstructs a single
year from the past, reporting on major

and minor events with direct quotes and
illustrations from periodicals of the era.

So far the staff of Then has covered three
big ones—1848, 1901 and 1920; you can
order them for $1.50 each or take a year's
subscription (six issues) at $8.75 from
Then Limited, 28 James Street, Covent.
Garden, London. Now, if they could just
invent a time machine, .. .

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Until recently, the wildest way to get high
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If your idea of à great evening is to stretch out on the carpet with
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film buffs can sprawl on the padded floor and dig Captain Blood,
Gentleman's Agreement and other vintage flicks. As if that weren't
enough, the management even throws in pillows to use as back
rests. The price for an evening is just two bucks—and you don't.
have to worry about finding gum parked under your scat.

POP PULLOVER

The kinky Clockwork
Orange acrylic sweater at
right costs $110. Why?
Because the face of Malcolm
McDowell and the elbow
eyeball are created from an
original painting by English
artist Douglas Field and then
appliquéd to the sweater in
a limited edition of 150,

So what you've bought is a
wearable work of art. Others
are available, and there's an
American series coming up.
Where to buy the sweaters?
Jackie Rogers in New York
or Mike Bain in L.A.

So get it оп!

NEWSCALENDAR1973

МШ” UNS DATE LINES

Calendar art has exhausted
just about every subject

from puppies to male nudes.
So there was nothing for
Format Sales in Manhattan
to do but come up with 365
headlines culled from 121
years of The New York
Times. For nine dollars,
postage paid, you can take
your pick of а 15” x21” wall
calendar or a smaller desk
model and boggle your
friends’ minds with
historical data.

SONS PICTURES Kj
TALK AND PERFORM E

FROM SAVANN.

ay

тоқ

POUR-A-FLOOR

When Robert Motherwell wanted a custom
floor design created for his New England
studio, he knew the man to call—Gordon
Mayo, a 34-year-old entrepreneur who's made

a million turning what's underfoot into
resin-coated works of art. Although Mayo has
specialists around the country who will pour
you a standard floor covering at only $1.50 per
square foot, he still makes personal appearances
—creating any pattern you choose— provided.
the price is right. Contact him at Research
Laboratories, 2145 South Grand Avenue,

Santa Ana, California. Signed and sealed, your
far-out floor will cost you at least four figures.

DEMON RUMPH

Having a last name that sounds like the
terminal croak of an asthmatic frog has only
helped increase the popularity of Jim Rumph,
a prolific West Coast sculptor whose creations
range from hideous one-of-a-kind demon
candlesticks to mass-molded fertility mugs
(below), which, for $8.50 cach, come with a
grinning little creature lurking inside. Other
evilnesses that have crawled from the mind of
Rumph include Pornogarumph statues, The
Family Called Nasty and even a chastity
belt. Rumph's headquarters is at 10560 Main.
Street, Fairfax, Virginia, but a word.

of caution: Don't drop in unannounced.

223

PLAYBOY

224

SEDUCTION ............... 7

as a kind of being on the make, corre-
sponding to his own fairly impersonal
desire for sexual gratification. If she gets

s a result of her dependence

raped

pon a man as an escort, neither. party
thinks that she has anything grave to
complain of. and yet a great wrong has

been do

For most young women who set out
өп the dating road to marriage, petty
таре is а constant hazard. The fact that

ys for the night's entertain-

ment, that he owns and drives the car,
that he has initiated all that has hap-
pened means by extension that he is also
entitled to ini

The. physi
She would probably be disappointed if
nifested no desire for her. but she
the problem of not seem у
с keeping him interested. His self-
esteem prompts him 10 achieve as much
s he cin before she dr
c. The clement of petty
when he threatens to throw her over
she doesn’t come across or whenever he
decides that he does not like her well
enough to move gradually through the
stages of intimacy as she desires them, but
will force the pace to get as much as pos-
sible out of an otherwise unsatisfactory
мег. His use of the vocabul
tenderness becomes fraudulent, He may
even fake an excess of sexual desire.
roup of law students at the first
university 1 attended had a competi

sce who could fuck the most women
one semester; one ploy that they all
ша k of heavy
be if they were
writhing in torments of desire. As they
were after quantity and not quality, this
not often the case. Tt worked very
well in the main, but party because
ing the class prero,
geois and wi

со

маз a tr

disrupting the lives and expectations of
women situated in less fortunate circum-
stances, like the hero of My Secret Life,
but more callously.

The man who won that competition
expert in exploiting womens
nd vanity. amd their tenden

themselves that the contact
they were experiencing was a genuine
personal encounter and not а crass
poll He and his friends were
y of the gestures of
derness. but their use of them was ut-
rly self-centered. They were simply ex-
excising a skill like angling, drawing silly
women to their own humiliation. The
only way to earn their respect and
ondship was to resist them, so they

only encouraged toughness and sus-
picion in this cold world. The girls they
had had never realized they'd been vic-
ms of petty rape until they grasped the
ict that the first time was also the last.
For such rich and handsome young

fantasy
10. delude

men. petty rape was а sport that by vir-
ше of their privileges they played with
great success, There were occasional ugli
ses that marred the lightheartedness
their proceedings. One of them was
ned with a paternity suit, but all
nds turned up in court and testi
fied that they had had carnal knowledge
of the plaintill. and so he got off. In fact,
they committed. perjury, but it did not
disturb their sleep.

The group-bonding skills of males wi
ys defeat the interests of isolated
women. Men will conspire to sec that
acts of petty rape are successful. Many
n would be appalled to le:
how their most intimate behavi
physical peculiarities are discussed by
meu, and this supplies a further dimen
sion of petty rape by blackmail. There is
по point in resisting a man’s advances if
he iy going to talk about how he had you
зу case. especially when word is
generally less respected than his. I was
once pestered for three or four days by а
detestable male chauvinist who explained
my consequent dislike of him as pique
because he refused to fuck me. When

sex is an ego contest, women get fucked
over all the time.
Petty rape is sometimes called seduc

which is not
Pe or particularly damaging
A woman who capitulates to а sedu
considered to do so because she really
wanted 10 or because she is too silly
100 loose to know how to resist. И
hr even be thought to be in her
interest. to overcome her priggishness
bout sex. The man who excuses his un
loving manipulation of women's suscep
tibilitics in ways such as these cannot
honestly claim to have the women's in-
terests at heart. His assumption that he
knows what is good for them is over
weening even il it is which it
usually is not.

Some men decide that it is their prero
© to punish a woman in а sexual en-
counter, either for her looseness or for
teasing or for lying and evading the
issue. The distortion of an
spouse into a chastisement is. pathologi-
cal, but not uncommon. An economics
student, son of a high-ranking public
official. boasted to me once that because
girl had lied to him that she was men-
struating, he punished her by raping
her, buggering her and throwing her out
of his rooms in Cambridge in the small
hours of the morning. knowing that she
would find no kind of transport to take
her back to her home in the country. He
had absolutely no understanding of her
motives for lying to him. He believed
she was stalling him; in fact, all she
needed was time to build up a desire
for intimacy that he was forcing on her.
She could have walked out earlier, or
screamed and brought the housekeeper

arded as à contempt-

ctivit

т

ncere,

scue. but rhat would have meant
ı summary end
developing relationship. Either
course would have required positive hos-
tility, which she simply did not feel. She
had very litle understanding of the
l hostility that he did feel, which

о her

underlay а good deal of his sexual re
sponse, especially in casual alfairs
The men who do cruel things to

е not a class apart; they аге
ly incapable of relating (o
rly every case 1 have de-
scribed, the details were told to me by the
men, who explained their comparatively
humane auitudes toward me as а result
ob my own respect for myself and my
own straightforwardness in sexual
ters. both results of my unusually priv
leged status as a woman: I was also older
than most of them. But I have not en-
tircly emancipated myself. from. the fe-
male legacy of low self-image. sell-hatred
d identification with the oppressors.
which is part of the pathology of oppres-
sion. The girls who have been
ed in the ways that 1 have described
the fault upon themselves. They think
they must have made a mistake some:
where. that their bodies have provoked
disgust. that they were too greasy in
their conversation. The internalization
of the injury is what makes peny r
such sidiously harmful
against What the
done is to exploit and so intensify the
pathology of oppression

Many petty rapists do not wittingly
dislike women or hate them: they do not
revenge themselves upon their mothers
through other women's. bodies

ious way. С

women
not tot
women. In n

ре

an offense

womei men have

п any

oup-therapy sessions at

t centers for sex offend:
producing results that seem to indicate
that repressed hostility toward the moth-
is one of the most. commen uncon-
ns for violent rape. But

are

e
scious moti

these conclusions ought not to be regard-
ed as particularly enlightening: if an an
alyst is seeking evidence of an infantile

trauma involving women, it is almost in-
evitably going to involve a mother or a
е

^. It is small wonder that
psychotic at-
are

children

when
mercy of опе w

iude to women
thrown upon th
almost exclusively during the for
years between one and five. Women's
hostility to one another may be ex
plained by the same phenomenon. at
least partially. Teachers anywhere, wom-
en in authority over men in any capacity
attract а good. deal of antagonism, some
of which masquerades as aflection.
There are other discernible
for active sexual hostility in the male.
Religions that rely upon guilt mecha-
nisms for their hold upon the faithful
build up an image of the female as
occasion of he nuns at my Catholic
primary school prepared the children for
ping and being raped by treating even

motives

"Mr. Dickens has just invented the Christmas office party.”

225

PLAYBOY

226

"Aud thats where babies come [rom. Now, do me
а favor—dowt tell all your friends.”

the littlest girls’ bodies as dire induce
ments to lasciviousness, to the point of
forbidding us to bare our upper arms or
our collarbones, and begging us all not
to look at our “private parts” even when
we were washing them as perfunctorily
s possible in the bath. This wanton
stimulation. of sexual tension still goes
on in religious schools. If scientology
nd other forms of psychic manipulation
for eventual co an he declared Ше
some ion should be paid
1o this process, enacted without fear of
reprisal upon the very young.
Undue aestheticism іп representing
ior can also have harmful
elfects. The ity of sexual fan-
tasy as it is stimulated by commercial rep-
resentations of the wom
leaves many immature men unable 10
cope with the eventual discovery that
women do not fecl smooth and velvety
all over. that their pubic hair exists and
is not swan'sdown or vine tendrils, that
a wom docs not smell like a
bed of (Most. convicted rapists
who have been subjected to any degree
of analysis have shown aggerated
dislike of menstruation.) For most men.
ual experience begins and persists
oughout the years of most intense Ji-
s activity, the teens, as fantasy
masturbation rather than actual
ion with the object of
their desire. It is not surprising. the
that the

sex object

in hea

roses.

tween the ego
the

reality long after
active sexual Ше has begun in ear-
t the permissive society has
fact, is merely the pre
al fantasy, with
по degree of emancipation of
the sexes into genuine communication
and mutual understanding.
Women are mot yet consum

rs ol

commercial softcore pornogi
do not have the same fetishistic attitude
toward men's bodies ihat men h
toward women's, Instead they are further
alienated from the area of male sexual
orientation by their own culture of ro-
mantic fantasy. Attempts to duplicate
the marketing of images of women’s
bodies have been made with men's
bodies without much success, and similar
inauthenticities were represented. When
my husband, Paul du Feu, posed for the

phy: they

ic

gatefold in the British edition of Cosmo-
vas found necessary not only
with body makeup

politan, it v
to cover h
hide his penis behind his upraised thigh
but also to airbrush his navel and the
les on his belly clean out of the
ure. Men trying to understand fei
reactions to the commercialized
cotype of women ought to study
their own reactions to the degradation
and desexualization of Paul du Feu.

Those wl women most аге
often the most successful. womanizers.
The connection used to be recognized in
common parlance by the expressions
ladykiller and wolf. Sylvia Plath de-
scribes a crucial encounter with one such
in The Bell Jar, leaving it to the reader
to estimate the role that this humiliation
plays Esther Greenwood's. eventual
collapse.

o

arco's small flickering smile re-
minded me of a snake Fd teased
i nx Zoo. When I tapped
on the stout cage glass the
snake had opened its clockwe
jaws and seemed to smile. Then it
struck and struck the invisible
pane till 1 moved off.

I had never met a woman hater
before. T could tell Marco w:
woman hater, because in spite of all
the models and TV starlets in the

sa

room that night he paid attention
10 nobody but me. Not out of kind-
ness or even curiosity, bur. because
Га happened to be dealt to him.
like a playing card їп a pack of
identical cards.

Young Esther has no hope of beating
Marco at the game he has been perfect
5 most of his adult life. He sweeps aside
her tremulous attempts 10 remain ind
pendent. On the dance floor he forces
her to give up all idea of independent
locomotio

Marco's
u're a

“What did 1 tell you
breath scorched my car.
perfectly respectable dancer

T began to sce why woman haters
could make such fools of wome
Woman haters were like gods
vulnerable and chock-full of power.
‘They descended and then they dis
appeared. You could never catch
one.

Marco’s excuse for treating all women
like sluts is an impossible love for his
first cousin (probably a narcissistic fan-
казу), who is to become а nun, Alter hc
has assaulted Esther, and she has partly
beaten him off and he has partly given
up. saying, “Sluts, all sluts . . . yes or no.
it’s all the same,” Esther goes back to her
sexscgregated hotel, climbs onto the
parapet of the roof and feeds her ward
торс to the ui ind. Marco has
brought hier to the beginning of the end.

In all cases of petty rape, the victim
does not figure as a. personality, as som
one vulnerable and valuable, whose
responses must not be cynically tam-
pered with. So great is women's need to
believe that men really like them that
they are often slow to detect perfunctrori
n proffered caresses or the subtle
age in attitude when the Rubicon
has been crossed and the softening up of
the victim can give way to unilateral
atification, Not all woman haters can
belie their feclings of hatred and con
tempt successfully throughout
encounter. When their situation is sc-
cure—say. when they have the victim safe
behind the hotel door and know that she
is not about 10 run screaming. th
the lobby in а torn dress—they may
abandon all pretense of tenderness and
get down to the business of hate fuckin
and yet still the wretched woman
tempts to roll with the punches. Her
enemy may use physical and verbal
abuse, even a degree of force to mike
her comply with forms of sexual inter
she docs not desire. Mostly

ness

s into an impersonal, mastur
batory frame of mind. After the love-
less connection is over, he cannot wait to

get rid of her, either by giving her cab
fare or shutting her out of his mind by
going to sleep or pretending to.

Guilt and disgust may follow. The
man may be sorry that he went with

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227

PLAYBOY

such an abject creature, but he will not
blame himself for the poor quality of
the sex he has had, any more than when
he finds the woman unresponsive be-
se her sexual submission has been ex-
torted from her. If he is distressed by the
crassness and perfunctoriness of the love
he has made or embarrassed by the will-
ingness and generosity of the Iove he has
been given, he will abuse the woman in
his mind. She is a dog, a pig. goes with
anyone, is so dumb she wouldn't know
you were up her till you coughed. Like
the grand rapist, he excuses his conduct
on the grounds that she asked for it. by
her lewdness, her willingness to discuss
sex, her appetite at dinner, the mone

she made him spend, the dress she had
on, the size of her breasts. If she has
joyed and responded to caresses up to th
point when they became brutal and then
struggled to escape, then she is а tease
who leads men on and then wi

"
chicken out when he gets to the. nitty
gritty. No punishment is too severe for
а tease.

Some men who are very well awar
their own preference for force fud
and their hostility to women may doubt
that women's sensibilities are clevated
enough to perceive their own humilia-
tion, Feminists are at least beginning to
spell it out for them, but too many men
do not realize that the sloga
to Rape" docs not so much re!
rapes committed on the с
streets of the cities as to the d

of

imeridden
y brutal-

ization of contact between brother and
sister, father and daughter, teacher and
pupil, doctor and patient, employer

d employee, dater and date, fi
and fiancée, husband and wife, adulta
cr and adulteress, the billions of petty
liberties exacted from passive and wor
dering women. The solution
found in the

not 10 be
Hing of the

in be caught and punished but in
the correction of our distorted notions of
the nature of sexual intercourse, which
ationale of the law of rape

they

© now struggling to discover
and develop their own sexuality, t0
know their own minds and. bodies and
10 improve the bases upon which they
n with men.
The men who continue to assume that
women must be treated as creatures who
do not know what is good for them, to
be cajoled or coerced or punished at the
will of a stiff-standing cock, seek to im-
prison women in the pathology of their
oppressed condition. Some women are
coquettish, although far fewer than the
mythology of rape supposes: the only
way to put an end to such fa gu
is to cease to play the game, simply by
g women at their word. The wom-
n who says no when she means yes

tal

and so loses a man she wants will find
à way to sec him again to tell him that.

she meant yes all the time—if she really
did mean yes that is. Jf she didn't
really mean yes, then she is better left

alone.
ny man who realizes that he likes
screwing mutinous women, that he is
bored at the prospect of balling only
women who want him, had better be
aware that he finds resistance and ten-
sion essential to his satisfaction: He is a
petty rapist and should lock to it.
The al

donment of the stereotype of
uction, coi the chase

исм,

ther than diminishing it. Once the
course of sexual manipulation is
ipted, the unexpected may occur,

ішіпе erotic development. can
place, Even the rapist author of My
Secret Life. whose sexual activity was cn-
tirely dependent upon the possibilities
ob exploiting lower-class women, was
e that coercion and insistence were
not in his best sexual interests, eve
when he had paid for the use of a wom-
s body and was in some sense en-
titled to it:

A custom of mine then, and al-
ways followed since, is putting down
my fec—it prevents mistakes, and
quarrels. When paid, if a woman
will not let me have her, be it so—
she veason—perhaps а
good onc for me.

Nothing that I have said should be in-
preted to mean that no m should
ke love to а woman unless he is
prepared to marry her or to undertake а
long and serious affair with her. A onc-
night stand сап be the most perfect and
g sexual encounter of all, as
long as there is no clement of fraud or
trickery or rip-off in the way in which it
develops. If women are to free then
selves from the necessity of deploying
their sexuality as а commodity, then
men will have to level in their dealings
with them, and that is all we ask. There
is still room for excitement, uncertainty,
'onism in the development of
ndship, but if you do not like
us, cannol listen to our part of the con-
versation, if we are only meat to you,
then leave us alone,

As women develop more confidence
and more self-esteem, and become as
supportive toward one another as they
have been to men, they also lose their rc-
luctance to denounce men for petty
rape. Where before they respected men’s
privacy а good deal more than men re-
spected theirs (despite the phony claims
of chivalry), they are now beginning to
tell it how it is. A theatrical impresario
well known for his randiness recently
ited a b

has some

te
Uy tom

ading women's
is hotel for a business meetin
amazement. for she had
gambits long out of style, he leaped on

her as soon as he had her fairly
the room. She held him off until sudden-
ly he ejaculated all over the front of her
dress. Gone are the days when she would
have slunk out behind a newspaper. Her
dress is a museum piece of the women's
movement in her country, and the joke
will be around for years.

Rape crisis centers are being set up by
groups of women more interested in self-
help Шап in vindictiveness. Here a
woman who has been traumatized by a
sexual experience cin соте for counsel,
for medical and psychiatric help. She is
not regarded as a culprit or challenged
about the length of her skirts or the
thickness of her суе make-up: her word
is believed. as the first step to reco
maged by sexual mis
is encouraged to exter-
nalize the experience rather than to en-
ter ngs of guilt and shame, and
she ight how to defend herself
against future assault and. bru ion,
суеп from her husband. who by law has
the right of rape over her. Menstrual as-
piration will also be practiced as the
technique becomes better. known. and
the instruments more widely available.
Force fucking is being phased out.

The new feeling of solidarity among
women will render petty rape quite fu-
tile. Wome to rejoice to
think that their men treated other wom-
єп badly cannot accept it once their
consciousness is raised. A musician re-
turning to his feminist old Tady alter a
protracted tour abroad boasted that he
managed to be faithful to her (some-
thing she had never demanded) by та
ing the adoring groupies give him blow
jobs and then get out. He was proud
that he had never even kissed one of
them, let alone balled one. ‘To his amaze-
ment, his old lady walked out on him.

Women are finding, in the stirring
of women's advocate Florynce

words

Kenned:
names,
crowd i:

better than suckin’.
ons may be liule more than ridicule

Our weap-

and boycott, but we will use them.
Women are sick to their souls of Leing
fucked over. Now that sex has become
political. the petty rapist had better
watch his ass; he won't he getting away
with it too much longer, How would you
feel if a video tape of your last fuck were
playing at the Feminist Guerrilla cinema?
We didn't start this war, but we in-
tend to bring it to an honorable settle-
ment, which means we have to make
a show of strength sometime. People
who are fighting for their lives fi
any weapons that come to hand, so it
is foolish to expect a fair fight. Sex be-
becoming as public as any other
expression. of politi
time I write an article like this, FI tell
you all the names. So don't say you

A Christmas.
gift suggestion
for the man
who has
everything,
from OUI,

the magazine for the
man of the world.

This Christmas, give him the world
of OUI. It's a new outlook on life
for the young American man.

An international point of view.

A Continental sense of humor.
Fiction, fact and photography,

by trend-setting contributors

from around the world. And the

women. Truly beautiful. And quite
unlike the girl next door.

Give him the world for Christmas.
Give him OUI.

one-year gill (Save $3.50")

ER RATE ENDS DEC. 31, 1972.
$7 for each additional one-year gift (Save $5.50")
Please send my gift to

d. C] Bill me
ib credit Key no.
ordered

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A NEW.
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FROM PLAYBOY

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PLAYBOY

230

FOR YOUR EARS ONLY

deliver only about eight and a half
octaves. For excellence of reproduction,
the better headphones are hard to bi

To the untutored eye, all headphones
look more or less the same, but there
are certain differences the buyer should
know. One of the most important of
these is the ear seal—that is, how well
do the headphones seal out the external
sounds of the room while at the same
time scaling in the Grateful Dead or
a Mahler symphony? Most headphones
offer an almost-perfect seal that guaran-
tees your own little sonic universe. Such
phones usually have liquid filled ear cups
that fit snugly around the cars and pro-
vide a soundproof chamber eliminating
all the sounds around you.

Excellent, you say—but what if some
people prefer being able to hear the
phone ring or the doorbell buzz?

The answer is “hew-through” head-
phones that are equipped with foam
carpieces that set on the car rather il
fit snugly around them. The better mod-
els offer excellent sound, but at the same
time you'll be able to hear the other
noises within the room. Though they
dont provide a completely separate
acoustical ronment, hearthrough
headphones usually offer the ad
‘of being somewhat lighter in we
phones with complete-seal qu

ies. And
if you wish, you can always reduce the

effective background level of noise

| Dynamic

(continued from page 155)

the listening room by simply turning up
the headphone volume.

Since headphones vary in both weight
nd design as far as саг cups and head
bands go, try them on before buying—
and spend enough time listening so
you'll have an idea of what it's like
to wear five-ounce headphones for half
an hour as opposed to sets weighing a
pound and a half. This is not to say
that weight alone makes for comfort;
one design that fecls like a feather to
some people may strike others as having
all the coziness of a bench vise. Head
phones also diller in the length of cord
attached. On some. it's long enough for
you to wander from room to room, while
with others you're limited to a dozen
or so feet from the sterco set.

An суеп more important difference,
however, lies in the type of headphone
itself. Most contain small сопсчуре
speakers, much like those іп standard
speaker cabinets but on a miniature scale
They couple the music to the eardrum
through the air cavity within the ear
cup. A good bass response is achieved
despite the tiny size of the speakers, be-
cause the amount of air within the car
cup that the speakers have to move is
minuscule compared with the amount of
air within a living room that a standard
woofer has to shove around.

Another type of headphone is
on the electrostatic speaker, consist

ased

Dynamic

of a plasticfilm diaphragm suspended
between two clectrical grids. Such head-
phones are almost always more expensive
than the cone or "dynamic" type—but
they do oller exceptionally smooth re-
sponse and a frequency range usually
much greater than that of the dynamics.
Electrostatic headphones come with trans
former control units (polarizer boxes)
that have to be connected to the speaker
terminals of your receiver—you can't
just plug them into the headphone jack
оп the front panel of your set—and have
switches that will tum on either your

or the headphon
lraphonics? Fourchannel head-
phones are оп the market that, at the
flick of a switch, will allow you to enjoy
either regular stereo ot "surround sound”
if you own a four-channel amplifier. All
four channels are faithfully reproduced
via two speaker clements in cach car сир.

If you dig headphones, it’s also. possi-
ble to purchase various accessoríes—
extension cords, for example, as well
as connector boxes so you can operate
two or more headphones at once, allow-
с your musical solitude.
idphones frequently sound
superior to standard speakers? With
some, of course, it's the total exclusion
of extrancous sound. And you're hearing
the two channels exactly as recorded, not
sitting ten fect away from the speakers
with the sound bouncing off the hard
plaster of your walls or being absorbed
by drapes and overstuffed fur
‘Through headphones, the sound is inde-
pendent of room acoustics, which can
make even the best speakers sound tinny
or mushy.

One last notso-obvious advantage of
headphones: Through them, you cin
listen to binaural reproduction; in fact,
it is only through headphones that you
сап hear binaural sound faithfully re-
produced. probably the mos realistic
reproduction of sound currently avail-
able. One recent binaural demo record
was made by constructing a model of the
human head, drilling holes where the
cars should be and inserting the record-
ing microphones in them, so that micro-
phone placement during recording was
cars would have
y t. Listening
10 the record over headphones exactly
duplicates the recording situation: the
sounds of a basketball game and a string
quartet recorded. in this fashion
uncanny in their accuracy.

It’s unlikely, of course, that if you
own a stereo set youll want to listen to
it only on headphones. But for the quiet
hours or those times whi t to
shut out the rest of the world while yor
soak up your favorite sounds, they can't
һе beat. The choice is wide. the cost is
modest and the results can be astounding.

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PLAYBOY

NIRVANA BY THE BAY continued jrom page 151)

the blessed blue, albeit polluted В;
On

the other hand, 1 can found such
nizations as the Ecological We:
men, devoted to destroying ugly
and concrete, and thus far mot lose a
single member of my group (I'm alo
the only member). A few years ago, in
another great battle, I was cochairman,
along with S. 1. Hayakawa, of the Аші-
Digit Dialing League. Well, we've got
nothing but digits now. You can't win
them all. We voted in a city-wide initia-
tive against the Vietnam war. The freaks,
the artists, the conservationists, the litte
old ladies and The Grateful Dead cime
together to stop the Panhandle freeway,
and we won that battle. We also cleaned
up the oil slick on the beaches. We are
not а sweet garden separated from the
real world, like Italy, It feels here as if
we are living real life, only in a more
advanced stage. (ОГ course, Italy may
feel the same way about hersell.)

Take Project Artaud and Project One,
warehouses to the people, They were
defunct real-estate disaster arcas, gloomy
brick and space in perish
the town, What's valuable? asked а few
revolutionary innovators. Well, for one
thi Ks, space, windows, doors,
rooms, rools—these things we love. The
gloom we cin do away with. Artists need
space, and so do galleries, film. makers,

g parts of

g br

literary magazines, free schools, con-
sciousness-raising women's groups. revo-
lutionaryaction societies, Zen meditators,
musicians (especially rock musicians, who
tend er foundations and send
neighbors to the emergency telephone):
gropers and rappers need space, embryo-
feeling orgs need space—people need
spice. Dollars per square foot is a real
issue, Project Artaud formed a соора
tive, including automobile-repair gurus
the courtyard, to take over the mori-
bund buildings and give them to the
people. spelled The People. at minimum
1 basic metaphysic
is countercultural
estate ferment, and it works. Project One
followed. Project Artaud, just as a few
years ago the Frer Press lollowed The
Barb. Home orgimic-food bakeries. yo-
ghurteries, leather connivers. all the
enterprises of the countercultural fe
ment find an amiable environment south
of Market in an old blue-collar, light-
industry, heavyarucking part of town
They even had a reading by Үсуш-
shenko, with mobs waiting to support a

to sl

rents, plus occ

real-

sessions. TI

new concept i
ercultu
times think they are all of San Francis-
co, somewhat in the state of mind of the
DuPont executive of the Thirties who
relused to sponsor a Sunday-afternoon

square footage

Cou

radio program on the grounds that "On
Sunday afternoon everyone. is playing
polo." In fact, San. Francisco. is middle
dass suivers. union people. dockmen.
straight insurance clerks, Chinese and
Japanese immigrants looking to make
out OK, а kage black and chicano pop
ulation—the usual mix of a great Ameri-
can city. АП the turned-on minority do
is what is most important: give the city
tone and reputation, its style in the
breeze of the mind. The flower children,
the traditional bohemians and the polo
players are merely the minority that sets
the tone. Out in Daly City and South
San Francisco, im the Sunset amd the
Richmond. there are the standard-sized
OK Americans who attend. services. at
the First Church of Christ Discount
(АП Prayers Guaranteed") and think
Che Guevara is somebody girllriend.
They are decent people who lead decent
lives and read the San Francisco Exam-
iner, lagship of the Hearst empire

But the stroller looking for other
news of the city might have found, say,
the Physicians Exchange Pharmaceutical
Service (PEPS) storefront оћсе оп Pow-
el, along the cable-cir tracks. Iusid.
instead of doctors or clerks, there were
cots with freaks sleepi
house wines, nothin
happening. Once іп a while Га hang
around. They'd give me collec and Vd
feel so good. "Say," 1 might ask, "what
are you chaps reall

The shrugs were beginning.

"Really, really doing?

The shrugs were continuing.

"Don't tell me, I dont want to
know,” I added

"OK. you're a friend, mumble, mum-
ble,” they'd sry. They were all link.
cadaverous fellows with beards like
young Howard Hughes fresh out of San
Jose State. There were bunches of pencils
in their pockets. They would write little
things down. sleep awhile. then write
some more, They smelled the same and
didn't speak much to cach other, in the
fashion ol amily, as if they communi-
cated by smell and didn't need to talk.
They had the electronic-genius look. an
indry smell. They read Mad mag
ad the underground pres. and
only occasionally 1 noticed a ravishing
pink blonde girl waking up om the cot
in the back room.

"EP didn't hear
response to an expl

a dew drug
and

mu

word,” I said ii
ation. 1 couldn't

make out.

Somehow it was nice to laze and ge
fullle in that room, until one day it wa
closed and sealed ву ORDER OF U. s. мак
зим. and the beards and cots were gone
And now it’s rented 10 a gift shop.

Who, what, where, why, how? Weath-
ermen. underground pres service. dope
exchange, con rip-off freaks, kids playing
send-away-lorsimples? A pure exercise
lly didn't know.

s and. nights. P;

ris used to

You can take aWhite Horse anywhere

PLAYBOY

be like this. I remember the pretenders
to the throne of Holy Russia. printing
posters, plotting their White revolution;
probably they still have an office in
Montmartre, three-generation refugees
from Lenin,

Once I thought I saw the pink blonde
girl on а cable car, but I couldn't catch
her to ask what had happened, where
our friends were meeting now. She was
rubbing her chin in the collar of her
suede coat. Perhaps that was a signal to
me. I rubbed my own chin in response,
but she just rode the cable car up Hyde
Surcet to the su - Maybe I chose the
wrong

Who

graph hills at dawn?
knights shrouded re the stock-
who must be at work by seven
AM. to keep up with Wall Street. When
i o'clock in the morning in the
1 of the soul of Manat
night in San Francisco
Scou. Fitzgerald; the young
the death of the
more, no ing on the pond. Bill
Graham, bi 10, is an ancient San
Francisco rock millionaire. Soon he'll be
start: new mari
new id see. It's
midnight
The girl from PEPS may be haunting
some other place, waiting for the next
Federal padlock. (Or maybe she's hi-

king a plane someplace. holding it
for ransom, gett small denom-
ns and tr whether
sk for the hal the roast
dinner) Tt does sometimes seem
the heist artists have more style in S
adseo: the check writer who keeps
ing Bentleys (his psychiatrist says he
has а Bentley fixation), the would-be
rapist who rejected his victim at the last

ute, morosely de: her
ball breaker. А
mit authorit

to decide

ut or

womi

accident
o a nymphe
cisco jury awarded her
$50,000 for her psychic wounds.
Hine
local porn producer m
ired by this tragic episode

and a San Fra

judgment of
Sug-

c to all the
lence, spite and
A young actress raped at knife:
point in the hall of her apartment house
proceeded afterward to trudge upstairs to
her flat, telephone her boyfriend and say:
“A funny thing just happened to me. We
could use it in an improvisation. . . ."
Another well-known social lady had
the following conversation with a rapist
who invaded her house and forced her-
self and her childre

American troubles of v

anomie

234 front of him:

Rapist (as she reported the conversation
to the police): Gosh, you're beautiful.

Lavy: Well, Im a little overweight
these days.

plices held the family at bay. The rapist
returned to the lady.

Rarist: Would you like me to rape
you, too?

LADY: No, thank:

‘The rape team then gathered up a
few baubles and left. The lady reported
to her friends аг the leader. stopped
ping the maid when his accomplices
approached. “And I think that shows
glimmer of sensitivity in the man, don't
you?"

don’t mean to imply that random

violence, drug fiends and sexual ten-
sions are just cute in San Francisco. But
they sometimes seem lo be different.
When D was slugged on the neck by a
disappointed. stock-market investor, and
knocked sprawling into Montgomery
Street, his fist question as I came up
was why at hadn't lived up to its
early promise. [t had gone up. then it
went down, then up again, and now
back down. How can you count on a
who recommends a stock

deserved to be hit because 1
exphin it to him, either. 1
showed a glimmer of sensitivity in the

man that he didn't stab me, too.

I did bc-

cause my w

t mind getting married,
le told me to go on w g
in North Beach. 11% good for the legs.
wind and cardiovascu and
therefore the heart: my soul is aired in
fogs salted by the sea, peppered by bu-

п spices; and although not the same
Га not what you'd call prowling any-
-I have а new perspective on the
Ius 4
y Const, the In.
on Broadway, up.

er-

in the B
Settleme:

and down Columbus and Gram. where
ghosts, artists. tourists, pimps and
would-be pimps, dealers and dealecs,
marks and targets wander the time-la
evening.

For example, Ken Rand, proprietor of

the Minimum Daily Requirement café
had a liule problem with the speed
j hores, two-bag bu:
men, runaways and pouting poets who
hang out without buying more than
collec. One evening he just got fed up
with this nearalbino lady, very ugly,
about 99: huge doughnut buttocks, whit-
ish hair a dite darker at the roots,
complexion of blah and bump. about 10
pounds overweight, poorly distributed.
She looked like a girlfriend of Baby Doc
Duvalier, I thought (I had just come
home from a stroll in Portau-Prince).
She was talking too much, and she

ness

wasn't talking to anyone visible, Ken
approached her with his neat,
chioed suave (he attended various East-
ern schools and enjoys his scene with
а certain Charles River hauteur). “АП
tight, Marlene, you should go someplace
else now

She said, “Unh.”

“Come on, Marlene, let's give us а
rest. Let's move, Marlene. ГІ walk you
to the doo!

“Unh.” This was half of unh-unh.

He took her by the elbow, firmly,
between several fingers, and urged her

forward. She flounced. She was not
wearing a miniskirt, shielding half the
squeezed, puddled doughnuts: she w

wearing some kind of semi-Bermud
shorts and bare feet. Ken's pressure
around elbow got through to her, be-
cause she was angry, but he walked, still
gracious and smiling, as far as the door
with her. Whereupon sh red, stared
balefully out of eyes d
eyes made oinks, and x
nile es iere wag по ове T
there was plenty, but nothing else. She

took a breast and, still fixing Ken with
that silent oink, lifted it between sud-

denly skillful fingers. And shot him a jet
of milk straight between the eyes.

Ken recently closed the M. D. К
opened the Sand Dollar, a relaxed and
nt seaside restaurant in Stinson
ich, down the coast a few miles [rom
North Beach.

and

I get up in the morning and it's once
more time to go where the city leads
me. Another day of Halloween in that
American place where fluent bohem:
spoken. A piece of st
Francisco.

Richard Brautigan is writing а poem.
about a girl with hair down to her ass
and everybody wants her, and there is
Richard Brautigan, lonely with his bra
dy on the terrace at Enrico's, looking to
find the girl he has just written about.
The parade of girls with hair down to
their asses passe

I am an antigua. I too
there alone, inspired by the sight of
Richard Branigan, but determined. not
to write a poem about girls with hair
down to their asses. 1 writ

am sitt

SAN FRANCISCO JEWISH ANTI-GURU POEM
The anti guru.

Stood on the mountain

ended his arms

10 the masses below.

below

below
below
And cried
cried
cried
cried:
Jo not follow me:

һ

ШАШ

PLAYBOY

236

LETTUCE EATER

(continued from page 107)
time I did, he started in on me. It's his
fight now (and he insists). His guilt.

Gun control: When guns are outlawed,
only police and the National Guard will
have guns. Legislation doesn’t seem the
way to keep weapons out of the hands
of murderers.

President's council on drugs: Y was go-
ing to write to them when I saw the foot-
ball stars urging me to do it, because I
figured. it meant you didn't have to give
up drugs to join the fight against them.
But I got high instead.

Space-program spending: If they really
wanted to free this money for other use,

I guess they would take a shitload of
envelopes to the moon and let the
world's stamp collectors underwrite the

program.

Exploitation of women: We've already
figured out who's doing what to whom,
now жете just haggling over price. ГЇЇ
pay anything.

Television violence.
after the news.

Lack of blacks on the PGA tour:
Wasn't sure they'd thank me if I joined
the fight and we were successful

The Irish rebellion: А soccer match out
of control. I don't even like the sport,
but evidently they are crazy about it.

War toys: Was going to buy the kid
à Bible but couldn't figure out whether
to give him the Catholic or the Protes-
ant version. When he saw the problem,
he asked for a plastic 50-caliber semi-
automatic antipersonnel weapon and 1
bought it for him.

Always a relief

Voter registration: Someone told me
that when 1 failed to register, 1 ceased to
be a significant person 10 R s
nd George McGovern. Which makes the
three of us (аһ, democracy) even.

Water-shortage crisis: I think when it
gets bad enough. they'll stop watering
the graveyards. Then I'll adjust my toilet
float.

Powershoage crisis: You give them
nd Canyon and they still aren't
ppy- Let them cat candles.
Legalization of marijuana: Will just
give the Surgeon. General funds enough
to link it with cancer. I'm happy with
"possible brain damage."

Dog crap in our city streets: Solution
here is to teach dogs to use toilets so that.
their shit, like ours, сап be dumped into
oceans and streams, where no one will
step on it,

Nuclear testing: Finally, someone does
something about the weather and there
s nothing but bitching.

Compulerization of society: There ік
no such thing as a mean. sniveling, petty
ог corrupt computer—which makes them
an attractive alternative to the bur
ats they are replacing.

Organized erime:
essary and in general а

Unknown long-range effects of pollu-
lion, preservatives in food. use of DDT,
use of drugs, noise pollution, etc., ete.
ele.: The long-range effect of life on this
planet is well known to be death and the
tip would be a lot more pleasant i
everybody carped less over little things

along the way.

“All of them!”

RUNTS LIB

(continued from page 135
suggested that the way to overcome
shortness is to die a war hero, saving big
soldiers.) More attention began to get
paid to a group founded 15 years earlier,
the Little People of America, long con
sidered too militant and radical because
of their underfive-foot requirement.

Activists in the movement agree that
the most important task they face is
muting internal debate so that an in
an be forced to confront
mental heightism.

Actor Billy Barty, founder and former
president of the Lite People of
ica, has been feuding with his coll
Michael Dunn. Barty feels Dunn
taining derogatory stereotype!
people. Dur
Tom Thumb.

Even worse than such name-calling is
the tendency 10 height worship that is
displayed by some sawed-olls. Whe
Mickey Rooney brags about his d
dren, what tops the list is their heigh
One is 64”, another 63". Even worse
is Laugh-In’s 5417 Arte Johnson:

Manied to a woman 57”, Johnson
consons with known basketball players
and has even tried to become an oficial
in the notorious National Basketball
Association

Lowering consciousness: As the move
ment spreads, America's small ones will
be made more aware of their oppressioi
through consciousnesslowering sessions
in which participants will be urged te
keep the following points in mind;

+ Never respond to salutations like
“Hiya, shorty" or "Right on, runt.

+ Do not look up at tall people. Stare
them right in the belly. Make them look
down. Back away, if necessary.

= Never reach up to shake hands
Stick your hand out mo higher than à
90-degree angle, even if it means hitting
someone's fly. Make the humiliation his

* Never det tall people stoop to kiss
you. Back off and suggest they first get
on their k

+ Never

main
of litde
feels Barty is an Uncle

сез.
stand on tiptoe [or
кез as this encourages
subconscious stereotyping. Under
the implicit bias built ino whatever
youre tempted to reach up lor. De
mand, instead, that it be lowered. Tear
it down, il necessar
Standing small in the saddle: In or
der to publicize the movement, activists
have decided to give annual awards for
outstanding work in the field.
The Alexander Stephens Awa
Diminutive Dignity will be given in
honor of the Confederacy's. Vice-Presi-
dent. Never topping 100 pounds, Ste-
phens was once informed by a hulking
lyrannosaur of a Congressman: "Why,

апу

w

nd

I could swallow you and never know I'd
thing.”
In that

case.” replicd Stephens,
more brains in your belly
ad in your head." This
year's Stephens Award goes to:

Dick Сакен Не replied when asked
if he was self-conscious about his height
(56^). "No. but Fm self-conscious about
other. people's."

The Alin Ladd Only Partly Selling
Out Award en in honor of one of
Hollywood's few short leading
Though he allowed himself to be placed

н platforms before kissing lady stars,
add did not perpetuate little-man ster-
The Ladd Award winner this

nen.

pes.

sto
accept lint
he stands у
down the offer of а TV s

wouldn't cl his name to Billy
Bitesize.
A special John Brown Friend of the

Movement Award is given this year to:

Burt Pretutsky—the West ma
columnist who w
never tiken any write

rizîne
I personally h:
above the h

ht

"Hell of a ceremony, Harvey."

of 57” seriously, Tm not certain just
how it is that height destroys their tal-
ent, but I suspect that they're constantly

bumping their heads on things."
A petit point plan: The following fivc-

point program should liy a founda.

tion for the movement to redress short

inequities

1. Proportional representation for Jit
tle people. The movement will be or
ganizing to bloc-vote toward this end so

there сап be more candidates like
Brother George Wallace and Sister
ley Chisholm. the five-foot Brook

Bombshell. For 1976. visionaries antici-
pate а Chisholm-Wallace ticket the na
tion can get under.

2. A boycott of heightist institution
Thom McAn Shoe Stores, lor
have be
“IE you want people to start looki
to you.” Picketi

whic

up
of John. Wayne and
Vanessa Redgrave movies n
taken, demanding that they be rated T.

be under

3. One basket on every basketball
court to be converted to a hole in ih
ground.

1. Lower urinals. It is unconscioi
a small man should have to

tha

upward in the performance of his bodily
functions. Likewise with library shelves,
ba counters and public telephon:
Dangling from a receiver cord robs little
people of their dignity.

5. An Equal He Amendment,
eliminating size as a requirement for any
employment whatsoever, АШ job inter-
views must be conducted over closed-cir-
cuit television, focusing only on the f;

Some members of the movement's
Piranha Brigade ("Small but Deadly")
ive morc extreme agendas, such as seiz-

hus

g Rhode Island as a sanctuary for
small. citizens and requiring mandatory
birth contol for anyone over 5%”. So

far. there is little support for such pro-
posils. So fur.
But to lower ihe consciousness of an

apathetic indeed, require
drama ас. And ounce
the sky bı 1 with the glow
of burning clevatorshoe factories, the

American. people—espe
six fect—should lîst
OI the Bi

Му those over
п for а new, angry

237

PLAYBOY

238

THE NATURAL

(continued from page 144)
the way he looks: So he lost a game, big
deal. Al y Dapper Dan ground
out that there's no way his nerve
can last. Later Mizerak admitted that he
wasnt worried about losing the first
game. He wasn't exactly certain he was
even trying his best to win it After all,
DiLiberto gave him enough shots. When
asked why he didn't take advantage of
those opportunities. he just shrugged
Besides, the rules favored him. In dou-
ble eliminations, the challenger needs
more victories than Ше defender, In this
case, DiLiberto needs to win two games:
if Mizerak wins опе, he xc
With Mizerak it's just a m

cool and wait

the w

ictory

ins the title.

iter of keep
Anyone who

When the second g
rak has cha
aber coat
always, wears
One ol Mizerak's oper
ke two b

шей from a dı

nd dies Dappe
blue coat, still dean

ig moves ds to
nk shots in a row,
nd, in a way. defiant gesture
parable to hitting а home run with the
handle of a bat. By the time Mizerak.

very

com-

misses for the first time, the tension is so
great that he and Dan begin talking to
cach other, unheard of in tournament
pool, even when the players know each
other. At one point, Dan is left with a
shot he cannot reach over the unbroken
pack—even by sticking one mechanical
bridge on top of another to elevate his
cue. Aier nutes’ deliberation,
he decides to try it one-handed, leaning
all dhe way across the length of the table
and jabbing at the cue ball with liis stick.
“I hope you make it." Mizerak says.
“Га ouly trying te help. you.” Dan
replies
Inevitably, Mizerak wins with a he:
breaking score of 150 10 18, barely more
than rack lor Danny.
movement is too sure, his

several n

one

nerves

100
сайт. Even before the last ball finds its
perfunctory way to the pocket, on an

87-ball run. onc that Mizerak's
mind is already turning toward Perth
Amboy, where he’s still tying to break
85 on the local golf couse. As far as
pocket billiards goes. he'll be back at the
tournament this year. Until then, he
doesn’t much want to be bothered with
Title colored balls on а cloth-covered

table.
Bü

senses

“Nine orgasms! And you complain about
not having equal rights!”

digger’s game
(continued from page 116)
the pardon comes through. And it's a
good thing, тоо, because Malloy’s got
trouble hanging on. "Now we got to get
n арр says. D say: What the
hell we need an appraiser for? Tell me
what it's worth. PI pay it! He says: We
don't need an appraiser, you need an
appraiser. You want to get on the license
don't you? ON. Пе telly me, fifty-four
к. appraised value, Now the appraiser
comes in. He looks around, ‘Fifty-four
housınd. he says. He was here proba-
bly inutes. Two grand he
charges. D thought that was kind of
high. I said: ‘You work pretty fast.’ He
says, old hundred-aaminute, ‘Im an

ser.

expert appraiser, Been at it а long time
aurants.
He

particularly bars and re:
сше, hars what does it
«| Mulloy says "Another thing that
Mis broha the
Now yowre gonna get on the

spari-
leaves

does it: indaw's on

се
licens
“L think Malloy was probably dead
about a month,” the Digger said. "He
didn't list long after he got things taken
care of the way he wanted. 1 go see my
fat fuckin brother. Just by way of no
wm. he says: "You might've thanked
me, getting the pardon and all, you
іш so well I said: "Thanks?
the hell for? АШ you did was send
the thief around. I paid the five” He
says: “What five. I tell him. Turns out
he paid а guy a grand. So I ask him,
the Rep? Sec, the same thing, Fm will-
ing w go the five, he still shouldn't b:
the brother out of the grand.
deed. he says, no such thing. It's
guy. Thats їшшу, 1 think, and I tell
him about the Rep, and he says: ‘Well,
1 think probably Fm gonna check that
out" Aud he docs.
nother telephone. call,
. “Тһе Rep again. Will 1
meet him? 1 meet him. I meet him
Parker House. He says: "E certainly want
to thank you, the loan. you give me, and
now E want to pay you back.” Hands me
this envelope. Five-thirty in it. I count it
«LI say: "Here's thirty back. I loaned
the five.” He gets this dumb expres-
face. “Oh, yeah,

now.

h' he say
"now 1 remember you. you cheap luck.
You should've called à cop," Har-
ston said.

7] could've,” the Digger said. "I could
who've called the ghinny Pope in his
fuckin’ bubbletop limousine, I could've
done that. too. Would've done me about
as much good.

“Хом. you look at that,” the Digger
said. “The Rep, the guy with the
brotherinlaw, my fine fat brothe
What does he produce? Every single
mith for fourteen years I been sendi
Malloy ihreefifty. Gimme a few
more years, 1 own this place, the w
the deal finally worked out. "Те place

took care of O'Dell’ Malloy said to me,
"it took care of me aud it'll take care of
Evvie and take care of you. Take care
the place, Digger.” He was right. I took
care the place. I worked like ard.
1 produced. My brother, he's just as big
he's got to eat a lot—you got to
. you weigh two-ninety—whar
he done? | eat at home, what the wife
cooks. He's throwing down the lobsters
the Red Coach. He's got a пісе
Electra Twoanda-Q. I got to hump it
ound, find something used that 1 can
aflord. After 1 find it, 1 get hell for
buying it. He's gor the place down to
Onset, his cottage, it’s got eight or nine
a couple baths up and one down.
ауа cottage. I got three boys and a girl

as me,
at а lo

room:

and 1 practically got to hock the Social
where

y to get half a bath in th
the pantry was. I got a house. He's
two-car garage, 1 got no ga
the summer, I get the
Morgan's lawn, which he never cuts 1
had in the winter. The snow and all, it
looks better in the winter. In the winter,
my fuckin’ brother's down to Delray for
a couple weeks, I sce where he goes to
id in the fall. Now, what ] want
to know is this: How come them guys?
How come them guys and not ше?
ington drank some beer. “You're
our joint.” he said. "God's pun
you. Pretty soon you're gonna get
ir on. your hands and moles on your
face and pimples on your ass. Every-
body'll be able to tell. Don't do your
brains any good, either. Keep it up.
you're gonna turn simple, and you don't
ther, you was to ask
hers and filty H
id а good act of contrition. Our
Blessed Mother don't go for your filthy
habits, you know.
Fuck you,” the Digger stid.
tened to you plenty of times. АШ I was
doing was thinking out loud.”
"You listened 10 me”
said, "E was buying the beer
Guy
Now you know what Fm gon
do? lm gonna go h
ing. the kind of d
md w

That's the
that buys the beer does the

а
ome. You're think-
ing you do, 1 dont
en vou do it

Ar 1130, the Digger

dosed up. The

small man with gray hair took а long
time locating his jacket and lunch box.
“For the love of Mike, will you come

the Digger said.

"Some son of a bitch stole my рар
the small man said, “I «ішігі even finish
reading it. I think I had about half a
beer since I get in here this after, and
now some son of a bitch steals the

о

ul" the Digg
door, "Fm not pay
No money. Tl
no dough."

“I was on my feet about six hours
the small ma

said, holding the
ng you. Got tha
ks for your help, but

п said.

“You were on the tap for six hours.
100," the Digger said, “I loan you money
nd you don't pay me back. You're into
me for thirty or forty bucks and I never
sked you for it and you never paid me
back. You come home from the tack
nd you're tapped out and I stand you a
couple beers and I listen to you. what
horrible luck you got, and then I give
you five, you don't have t ask the old
dy for carlare, she's gonna. know you
se. And you always take it. Now the
ng for you to do is, shut the fuck up
Wd go home.

10 Copley Square
and parked his car in front of the public
libr
He entered the Boylston garage on
the St. James side and took the eleva-
tor to the third tier. At row D, he found
a mustard-colored Coupe de Ville with a
gold-vinyl roof, It had Maryland. plates.
The Digger wied his wquue-butted
key in the driver's side door. Di worked.
Tt also worked in the ignition. He drove
the Cadillac down the ramps to the exit.
There was а sleepy kid in a blue Fisen-
hower jacket on dut
“I lost my check.” the Di
the attendants booth there wi
LOST TICKET MUST stow
EGISTRATION.
"You gota pa
. "Thrcedifty."
Here,” the Digger said. He presented
a fivedollar bill. The kid gave him
change. “Thats a жеміне the Di

said. On
ЖЕТІ
LICENSE AND

y the max," the kid

the whole act if y
ou get undressed and every
now."

“I know," the
At Logan International Airport the
Digger took the ARRIVALS l nd put
the Cadillac into an стру space in
front of the grounddevel е to
United nes, He got ош of the car
and locked it. At the top of the escala
tor, he tu left nl
the bar. He found а short, swarthy man
seated m a table for iwo at the
windows. He sat down. He put the key
in front of the m:

"Where is it?" the man asked.

“Right down to the mete
ger said. "Right down in front.

"You were supposed to pur it inna
regular garage.” the man said.

“He didn't tell me that.” the Digger
said. “He said: "Leave it in front of the
United terminal and take the keys in^
That's what E did."

“There's liable to be "
€ nmooper watchin’ it, I go out.” the
man said.

“Thats your problem." ihe Di
said. "You should take it up with him is
what I chink.

"I don't give a fuck what you think.”
the man said. "Key ОК
up." the Digg
"OK." the n ng 10 get up.
The Digger grabbed him by the left

1 could make
hi

Digger said.

m

ast

the Т

some fuc

"So I told thi.

chic.

1 make a lot of bread апа
she got real friendly. . . .

239

PLAYBOY

240 start olf first-class.

rm and the man sat down agi
There’s another thing he told me. he
told me you were gonna have some
money belonged to ше.

"You get that from him,”

the man

said.
"You can get your arm fixed over
10 the Mass. General,” the Digger said.

open all night, they never
dose, Your face, too. The Boston City's
open all night, 100, they got an emer
gency room, but guys 1 seen afterward, I
was to make a choice, if E was you I'd go
the Mass. General. Get up five hundred
and save the beef on the Blue Cross is
my advice.”

“Two hundred.” the man said

“Five hundred," the Digger said
"This was hunyup, and йз not my
usual line of work. I did it, I said I'd
do it, the five. Gimme the five, I break
nose so you know 1 mean

“You got to leave go my am,” the
п said.

“TH leave go,” the Digger
keep it in mind, D cm
enough I caught you the first time.
Nothing funny, the next time I get you,
you're gonna need treatment.” The Dig-
ger let go.

The man reached into his left-hand
pants pocket and removed a few bills.
He put them on the table and started to
getup.
iddown," the Digger said,

The man sat down, The Digger count
ed the bills. "OK id. "yor "

“Thanks a whole fuckin’ bunch," the
man said.

“Don't give me no shi
said. "I know who you are. I know what
your fuckin’ name is and 1 know what
you fuckin’ do, 1 got a dime or so and
you tried to screw me, I decide 1 want to
drop one of them dimes, call. somebody
I know in P. D.. you
need more'n one Cadi
greasy ass.”

Fuck you,” the n
to get up again, warily

“Ies OK," the Digger said. “I'm satis

id. “You
move fast

"he

c

," the Digger

Boston

onna

lac то save your

a said. Hc

fied, You can go now. Ch iny
pisspot.”

“I could Kill you, you know,” the man
said,

I don't know any such fuck

made

thing,” the Digger said. “You eve
a pass at me, well, you better make а
good one is all. You'd be lying inna
window down to Tessio's before the sun
come up, and I'd be having a beer on
your luck, Fuck oll."

The short,
Digger beckoned
“Wild Turkey, id. "Double."

“It’s almost closing, id

“Two Wild Turkeys.” the Digger said.
“I gotta ride the trolley, I might as well

The
ress.

swa

thy man left.
pock-faced wai

she s

In the Hoodlights on the apron of
the terminal to the north, two priests
escorted а large number of middle-aged
people toward a Northeast 727. Each of
them Guried а TAP fli white
and red.

pe bà

The waitress сате back.
drinks on

ıe put the
"Ehiec-ift she

the table.

eger put a five on the table.
“Keep il,” he said. "Whats that?"

“Pilgrimage, most likely" she
squinting, “Those’re Portuguese Airlines
bags. They connect with TAP in New
York. Probably going to Fátima,”

The Digger watched the passengers
straggle aboard after the waitress had
left, He finished the first Wild Turkey
and raised the second to his lips. “Jesus
Christ,” he said to himself, "I think I'd
rather take the trolley.”

“Is that fuckin" paper here yer?" The
Greek began talking as soon as he had
shut the door of the sparsely furnished
office of The Regent Sportsmen's Club.
Inc, on Beacon Street, Boston. His
black hair was shiny from recent. wash-
ing; more black hair bloomed from un-
der the collar of his white polo shirt.

^" said Croce Torre, alo
ic Toney, "I meant to

great thing you

Толеу had a

known as R
tell you before what а
are to start off a week.
belly. He was grinning.

"Look," the Greek. said, “the start of.
the week's most of the week. in my end
of things. 1 got today and I got tomor-
row to get this new stuff squared away
so сап take саге my regular business. A
week and а hall's already lost. The long
er T wait, the more shit I get. I finally go
around. I mean, I can't hack around the
of my life with this goddamned
? We're gonna do it, for
Christ sake, let's do it.”

On the other side of the office, Miller
Schabb gray-metal desk and

sat at

muttered into the telephone, "Yeah,
Herbie, yeah, T hear yon. I know, it's.
22. Yeah, the busy season, Well, there's

another season, too, Herbie, isn’t there,
not quite so busy. You told me about
that one yoursell. Nobody in the world
wants airplanes then, You get my р
I'm still going to be wanting airplanes.
That's if I get my airplanes now. You
can't give me airplanes now, when I
nt them, you're not going to sce
much of me later on. you follow me?”
"Look" Torrey said, “I don't run
the U.S. Май, you know? The stult just.
got here. It come in, it was here the
st thing. Must've, maybe it come іп

w

Saturda
"Well" the Greek said, “OK. Let's
have it so we can sec what we got to

work with here.” He removed his blu
and.white-cord sports jacket, His biceps
stretched the woven fabric of the polo

shirt into а coarse mesh.

Tow old're you, Creek
sked.

Forty-one,” the Greek said. "
the fuckin’ paper, will you?

“Miller's got the paper,” Torrey said.
“He wanted to look it over. He'll be off
in a minute, so calm down, for Christ
sake. You lived forty-one years, you look
great, you can afford a couple minutes.
Sit down and relax. Christ, 1 wish to
God. I'm thirty-one and I wish to God
T looked as good as you do.”

The Greek rubbed his middle. It w
flat. “You don't look like 1 do because
you don't work at it like I do.”

Schabb said: “Thats right, Herbie.
Now you're gening the idea: When you
got airplanes up the gazoo, I'm going to
be a nice fellow to know, No, Herbi
no, 1 wouldn't threaten you

“The first thing I do, every morning,”
the Greck said, “over to the Y. I'm there
they open, seven o'clock, I play
Il an hour. Swim half a mile.
ake а little steam, then
nd I shave, I get dressed, I go
over the diner in the square, bowl of
Total and black coffee. Good solid meal
and it don't put any fat оп you, some-
thing happens and you haven't got time
for lunch, you're still all right. Three
s I've been doing that. Sec, you get
older. you got to do something, I didn't.
use to have to do anything аг all, keep
in shape. Now I dı

“1 couldn't take that," Torey said.
“You probably have to get up about six
to do that.”

‘Six-thirty or so," the Greek said.

"Yeah," Toney said, "well, sce, I
couldn'tve done that today. Last night,
Sunday night, OK? Nice quiet night. I
was married, 1 didu't use to do any-
thing Sunday night. Watch the tube or
something. But last night, I'm down to
Thomasina’s there. White dam sauce.
Few drinks, couple bottles of w hen
we go up the Holiday, very good group
up there. Pick up this
my place, she's got to make an omelet,
OK? By now, two in the moming.
Cheese omelet, little more white wine,
time we finish cating the omelet, йз
alter three-thirty.

“Then you ate he id.
“Then it’s almost four . No, you're
right. You couldn'rve got up with me.”

“There a
Torrey said. “I don’t sty 1 did
know, but if I did, that won't put any
weight on you.
schabb said: “No, Herbie, no Electra.
You put an Electra out there on the end
of the ramp. half my trip's going to sce
it and blow ri; vay. "Oh. no, Mill,
not that colle ‘Them

Torrey

mme

when

irl, we go back to

rt lories in mulli

you

I don't care what they did to them, th
still got a reputation. You got 10 give
me a jet, Herbie.

“Just kind of a degenerate is all

the

Greck said. "You're a fuckin’ degener-
с, Richie. 1 dunno how you can look
the fuckin' mirror in the morning."
“My friend," Torrey said, "it was a
good enough night, 1 can't. I can't even
sec the mirror. Last Wednesday, there, I
go to the ball game. Then afterward we
go to this club, all the college kids and

Whynt you hang around play-
wounds or something?" the Greek asked.
опе, you fuckin’ degen-
crate, you're giving them bad habits.

Yow, look,
н think anything you
want. The fact is, 1 bought three planes
from you. I filled the one I had and the
other two're going to be filled
don't fill the other two, I'm still good
for the money and you know it. You try
to get from the Knights of Columbus

you don't know n out kids any-
more, Greck. I pick up this kid and we

go back and you know what it

was?

“You're shi е," the Greek said.

“I am not shitting you.” Torrey said
"Strawberry. They got that spray now.
Now. you old fart, you tell me I'm
teaching bad habits a kid's got strawber-
ry in the beaver before I ever meet her.
You just tell me that

“L don't fuckin’ believe it,” the Greek
said. "She must've been a hooker or
something.”

"She's a file clerk down to this insur-
ance company," Torrey said. "She's no
hooker, because I didnt give her no
money. Hell, you look at her, you figure

she walked in а bar by mistake, thought
it was a church. You'd just be wron

more'n that, Greek, huh?"
"You guysre gonna ta
word," the Greck said.

the

€ over
"The n

ус to taste like London broil.”
"Толеу said, "she's having di

ner, you're having dessert. That's а gi

idea, Creek.

the Greek said, "well. I tell
you, I think I'm gonna get myself а nice
place way the hell out in the country
and go out there with the family and
start a chicken farm. I'm not gonn
bring kids up in a world, people
ing around with vanilla pussy, hot-fudge
cocks. This fuckin’ country's going to
the dogs, you know that, Richie? Guys
like you."

Schabb "Thats a hell of a lot
better, Herbie. Yeah. Yeah. Seven-twenty
seven's fine, Herbie. Now, read it back.
to me."

"You ough

пу it before you knock
су said. "You look good

enough. You could still make out."

"I look good because T want to look

ood and ] work at it.” the Greek said
vot because I want to go around like a
goddamned pervert. You want to go
ound in them yellow things, shirts,
pants, the white shocs, robably
all right, you look like а nigger pimp.
Don't matter to you, I got some self-
respect."
You're afraid," Torrey said. "You
work so hard taking showers there, you
probably don't think, you're not surc
you can get it up."

"Also," the Greek said,
to look good. Your action, you can wear
a fuckin’ dress if you want. Pcople're
probably gonna laugh at you some, but
ht You take me, your aver-
age stiff borrows some, he thinks I col-
lec my own, he doesn't pay. So. he
be starts thinking about not payi
nd of looks at me out there, he
thinks: ‘Son of a bitch can do the work
himself, I don't pay.’ So he pays. I'm up
the hundred two hard guys cost me. Plus
which, T don't get the kind of heat you
get when you start moving guys around
personal, Nice and peaceful is the way 1
like things.”

Schabb said: “AN right. That's finc.
Herbie, you got а deal. Always a pl
ure to talk to you" He hung up. He
smiled. “I got the plane. for Columbus

so, I need

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241

PLAYBOY

“Please, Roger, we’

Day." said to Torrey. To the Greek.
he said. Greek.”
You know you got a degenerate lor a

the Greck said. "He's eating

1 Е
little kids:

“You cating kids, Richie" Schabb
You ought 1o be ashamed of your-

sell
1 can't help it.” Torrey said
remember the other night, there.
thing goes black and then 1 did it again.”
“Told you about the suwherry one
Schabb id. "Unbcl Ме.

1 gues."
hah?”

1 don't believe it^ ihe Greek said. "I
should've gone in the Church like my
mother was alw me io do. 1

some paper for me to se
eah,” Sehabb said, "right
He removed a thick packet of papers
cherksized. held together with а rubber
band, from the desk. He tossed it across
the room to the Greek: it lauded on
the second grayanetal desk. “The Greek
moved behind the desk and slipped th
packer out of the band

4 some trouble,

here.

u h Torrey said

10 Schabb.

Yeah," Sabb said. “Youd think
e trying to steal airplanes, “stead ol
buying them. probably the best custom-
er he's gor. One more like this and we'll
have to hijack tli . For

guy rhars always griping about how
lonsy business is, he's sure awful tough
10 do business with.

"You count this
asked. Не was sorti

w

aned thi

sini?” the Greek
p the papers into

242 nee piles.

e not e

en moving yel."

аһ» said.
money there
the whole

ded at it is all

s quite a bit of

Maybe the boys didnt w
e after all."

it onecightyeight K.” the
That's quite a bit of mones." Torrey
the Greek

Fwenty-c
“Hotel” the G
“Three K, promo, free dri

маш. tips for the bells." Schabb said-
“Pretty high, you ask me,” the Gree

said. “We deliver the fish, we also gor 10

pay to ice them down, How many guys

we hud?

ighty.” Sd
“Eighty К in front hon

Greek said, “sixty-six K, ws

back in counter" Sch

What'd that cost us?

“Twenty-two.” Schabb said.

“Twenty-five К. counters and. promo,

twenty-eight for the plane," the Greek

said. "Any other expenses
"Yo count the rent
phone her?" Torrey said.
steep, three bills, Паре ext
© you the air conditioning.”
ined nice of them.” the
said. "No. Fifty-three, expenses
-five starting out with the
collect it all."
Torrey What is this shit, we col-
lect it all?"
“Just what 1 said.
“we collect it

bh said.

them.” the
and
bb nodded.

it, we

wann: and
vs preuy

i, they do

Greek
One-
paper,

the Greek said.
I, we got onethirty

here. We don't collca it, we less
Plus the points, of course.”

Greek.” Torrey said. "I don't under
stand this. That's what we got you for,

you know, collect it all
"E could use a collec," the Greek said.

“MILL” Torrey said, “get collec."

“Why should 1 get cofee?” Schabb
said. "E don't even want coffee. 1 told
you, anyway, we ought 10 get a pot and
pur it in here

“That don't work,” Torrey said.
had one up to the place in Lynn there
somebody was always going home at
night and leaving the thing plugged іп
So you get one of two things. You got a
pot that's: practically welded е to:
gether, all the coffee stewed away, and
that’s useless. Or else there's enough cof
Tee, you come
got a pot you're never gonna get
the таме of it. And somebody
spilling it. It's e;

in the next day and you
id of

sier.”

For muin man,” the €
youre awful dainty, Richie
knew you're so ne
“Neve d Torrey said
"Mill. willya get colfee. for Christ sake.”
No. Schabb said. "Fm no errand

boy. Call somebody up. you want collec,
have them bring it up. You're do
that, ГЇЇ have a cup myself, mater of
fact. Large regular and а Dii
о calls" Torrey said, "Fm expect
ing a call. I don't want the line tied up.”
"Rid the Gree id. "this is just
a waste of time, all right?”
"Looks like it.” Torrey said.
"Mr. Schabb, the Greek. said, "me
ad Richie want са Richie and m
we're nor going for collec. You're p
lor collec. got that? Now, go for collec.
Get me ажо blacks. Get him what he
wants. Pay for it yoursel, Don't talk
about it по more. Just do it, all right?"
Schabb looked at Richie,
“Don't look at me, Mill." Torrey said.
“The n d to tell you nice, I tried
to tell you nice, you don't want to be
told Now you got told the
other way fuck out of here and
get the fuckin’ collee and just do it, all
right?"

ss Lam the errand be БАЙ
uing up.

the Greek said, “you're just the

t

calle lor everybody and so me and

Richie here can have a little discussion,

just between him and me. You had a

“No,
guy that's nice enough to go out and g

little more experience, none ol this
would've happened.”
Мет the door closed, the Greek

asked: “Is he all right?
“He's a great guy," Torrey said. “The
thing about him, he's perlect, you know?

Because he still, basically he’s still a Dusi-

nessman. you know what 1 mean? He
sill thinks like they do. He likes the
pussy probably а little me aver

age mu
of a wise

d guy ош

ss, but he still, he's still a

businessn He wied to line up the

id, “Шага һе

hz” Torrey said.
tards with a license to
screwed. themselves for a

"MI
steal, gettin
change."

“Wouldn't be bad for dough, cithe:
the Greek said. "Some of those guys, you
сап really make out on them, They got
good dough. The fashy ones in the knit
suits and El Ds. Take them ri;
the fuckin" hurdles, Th
know fuckin’ everything.”

“He'd do it lor nothing,” Torrey said.
“Milley bates lawyers. He thinks he
should've beat that fraud thing."

"Well, shit.” the Greel
thought he got an s.s. out of it.”

Sure," Torrey said. "Myself, I think
he made out beautiful. A suspended and
a fine and he hadda make restitution. So
a thousand the fine, thirty thou, I think
it was, they got him for, he told me him-
self, well, he didn't actually tell me, but
1 could tell, you know? He got closer to
seventy-five before they nailed him. So,
forty К profit, he don't go the can, he's
still mad as hell. 1 had the fix in; he
says. "It was in the bag. I give, my lawyer
tells me it's live for him and ten for the
d something for the judge,
bc dismissed. No су x
. So I pay it over. Then,
whammo, I get
1 got screwed.

“So,” the Greek sud, "big deal. He
got fucked. 1 can understand that, But
still, he comes out of it all right. 1 clout-
ed a car when 1 was a kid and 1 done
three months up the Lyman School. The
қау got the car back, roo. | would've
taken his deal. 1 wouldn't care if some-
body did blow smoke up my ass

“That's what E tell him,” Torrey said.
“This what Im saying, he thinks like
a businessman. He don't know is all. АП
he knows is he ca more
and he don't trust. anybody that looks
straight. 1 tell you, Greek, we got our-
selves a fine fat galler in this guy.”

“Ies all right to talk about things in
front of him, then,” the Greek said

“He is joined up,” Torrey said. "I pe
sonally guarantee it. He is in. He knows
about the man. He knows the guy i
Worcester and he knows, he know
about, the guy in, how we got to send
down to Providence. | put it right on

bi

d“

prosecutor

its gonn

or someth

1 between the eyes

get bonded i

him. 1 said: ‘There's maybe some things
you don’t understand about this. kind
оү the way it works, what you

got to do, you know? So I'm te
right now, your own personal informa-
tion and nobody else's, because if 1 catch
you telling anybody else, I'm gonna kill
you, all right? A piece of this. we got to
work this on the OK from Worcester,
and we get that OK, there's a price on it.
We got to pay the
dence the

ling you

попсу down to Provi-
‚ all right? You unde

and.

that? You're
gonna be connected is all there i
Because you

gett

can't do this, you're not my
connected. You understand that.’

"He says: You're not telling me any-
thing I didn't know, I started talking to wl
you. I was looking for you, for Christ
sake. You think I went loo
body, I didn't

"OK. thei
know, it's like getting ma

know? We never had no divorce, we theyre mot sa
sot any now. You
in, and. vou stay in. That me
па уоп take your medicine,

out someday
rand jury or somethi

OK, thar's what you do. You go out and
you take your fud

I told you, 1 don't have no objections."
"I hope se. | hope you got it Now.
nd. I'm responsible for “Well,” the Greek said, “I look at this

clear in your n

n this, you're you

you come ir

1 I'm doing

g for some my own goddam
now the guy | was look: you get him

. you

ried, it’s like 1
im ‘Maly, there, you l

to have

time. the:
get out somed

around

ase I have to. OK?
ey said, “he

“Have some Christmas cheer?”

1 got to be sure and
to it. you got to be sure, because I ge
ass. 1 been covering my ass for a long
I know how to do
bring a guy in, I'm taking а chance is

chances. I wanted L

in the shit, I'm the guy gon-
hive to go down there, explain how
But you come, and that T can't do. So 1 better not
ve to, Mill. There's a lot of guysd
nother crack
atisfied he's already
figure, they figure he's gonna
That they don't want.
r guys like you that

‘Theyre looking Га
didnt always understand

they said they understood
medicine. You not be one of them. Because. you turn
nd wreck you ош to be one of them, FII 1
something. And ГИ do it, Mill, no mat-
ys "OK. ter how much I like you personally. TI
do it! He says: ‘OK! He's OK, Greek.
what is this shit. if we collect:

243

PLAYBOY

244 know. Dig

stuff, all righ? Three kinds of paper.”
He tapped the stack nearest his right
hand with his right forefinger. “Jew

paper. Names I recognize. Easy stuff. Big
sports with the fatas yachts and the қой
in Newton. Every one of them
ш. used to
losi ing, used to paying. No pissing and
ed some of them à
d deal now and

fast hundred К for a
then, its a Sunday and they
hurry and the banksre closed
thing is. they're so used to losing,
don't lose all that much. I figure there's
Jess'n half what we got here, there, What
we oughta get off them guys, we oughta
get a piece of what they pay the cunts to
fuck them. Then we'd really make out.”

The Greck tapped the middle stack.
"Not one goddamned name in here I
recognize. The addresses | do. Needham,
Wellesley, Beverly. that kind of thing.
Duxbury, Hingham, Sharon.

"Now 1 make a guess on that," the
Greek said. "professional guys, Doctors,
lawyers, guys that бх people's teeth and
fect and that kind of stull. Sweat their
balls off twenty years and all of a sud
den they're making thirty
ght out of the

e inna
Only
they

nd they go
minds. Get

their hair styled,
know everything.
they go to Vegas and lose about six K
apiece.”

“Theyre guys knew; Torrey
said. "I dunno much about them."

“Just what E thought,” the Greek said,

“1 left that out. First thing they do, they
get themselves а smartass broker like
him, and they lose about two К. That
makes them feel so good, they go to
Vegas and drop six.”

"They got it, though,” Torrey said.

“Most of them, yeah,” the Greek said.
“They just don't know they gor it, it's in
appreciation on a house or it's in what
they can borrow from the bank. The
got it, they just don't know they got it
So first you gotta convince them of that.
that they got it. Then, the next thing,

got to convince them they owe it.

See, they're used to getting things, they
spend money, they get а new car or they
get a boat or a trip or something. Fur-
ture. They already had what they got
for this. You got to convince them of
t. лоо. Then, theyre not used to a
; like me. They all, they all borrowed
money. When they badda pay the
money, guy sends them a letter. They
haven't got the money, guy sends them a
piece of paper. Any banker inna world’s

onna trust а guy, kind of job they go
› I gotta teach them that: 1 dont trust
them. Few calls do it, 1 snarl at them
They pay. They read all them books, TI
get that,

"So wheres the problem?"
asked.

"Problen's this,” the Greek said, tap-
ping the pile on the left. “These guys 1
ег Doherty's group, the guys

Torrey

round The Bright Red, there. I
€ to say, I would have to say if
somebody was to ask me, we got twenty-
eight K in the Digger and them, and
that’s gonna be hard to get ош. 1 don't.
think bringing in them jamokes was
such a hot idea

“We hadda fill the plane," Torre
said. "We had fourtecn beds at thc
hotel, we're gonna have to pay for, at
least one night, we don't use them, the
whole three nights, they don't rent them
to somebody else. Miller told me he was
coming up empty, his other prospects. 1
said I'd sce what I could do. So 1 tried
er.

hang

would

“Richie,” the Greek said, "you hang
wound the wrong type of guys You
know them gu

Yeah," Torrey said, “L know them

guys.

"You know them guys" the k
suid, "you don't know them too good.
Thosere hard Harps They haven't got
twenty-eight К in the one place since the
day they're born, all of them put roget
er. In addition to which, they are very
tough guys. 1 used them myself, some
body got it in his head the Greek was
running a charity here. 1 had very good
results. The Ше Di „ he's got a
machine gun, Most guys know the
Digger, know he's got a machine gun.
s one ol those things everybody knows.
There's talk the Digger used the m:
chine gun a couple times. ] get the
Digger personally, 1 call in the Digger, I
et somebody else he sends around, he's
tied up and he can't do that. particular
пе. it don't. make no dillerence. You
get the same thing and you get it, 100.

You get one or two of them bastards
from ‘The Bright Red aud you send

them around to whale the piss out of
somebody. they go around and whale the
piss ош of him, That could give me
ne trouble. Maybe they decide now, E
go to see them, there isn’t anybody big
ough, come in and whale the piss out
of them. Then what do 1 do?
“Two things" Torrey said. "That's
only if they welsh. 1 know the Digger a
long time. 1 know Mikey-Mike Magro a
long time. Theyre a couple of loud-
mouth micks is what they are.”

“They can also deliver," the Greek
said. "Never mind how much noise they
make."

"You gimme a chance to finish.” Tor-
rey said, “that’s what I'm saying. I know
the guy and I don't like the guy, but
1 got to say, 1 never sce the guy come
up short on anything. So I don't think
you're gonna need anybody, go in and

whack him. His friends, cithe су
lose, they pay. I thought of that when 1
ask them.”

“Suill, maybe they don't,” the Greek
sid. “Then who's got the problem? You
got the problem? No, I got the problem.
Which you give me. Which you didn’t
ask me, was it all right for everything,

ing me this big fat
Richie, that's what 1
sking me before.

you
he

dache. See,
don't like, you not
don’t want no more of that.”

Miller Schabb opened the door after

knocking. He carried a large paper bag
that was wet at the bottom. "You guys
through kissing and hugging?” he asked.
“OK for the niggers to come in now
"Come on in. Mil,” Torrey
"Shut the fuckin’ door and shut your
goddamned yap, too, while you're at
The Greek didn't know where you stood
n
abb put the bag on a pad of white
paper. "Look at that,” he said, "god-
damned stuft. Gets all over you, got to go
an it isn’t even ten o'clock yet and 1
bet its n Iveady. I tell you som
thing: Tonight on ihe way home, I'm
stopping at Lechmere and getting а сог.
leepot
You get it,”

said.

Torrey said, “you clean

al

“Sure,” Schabb said, "sure, TI clean
it. I also sweep out and 1 clean the toi-
let, too. "That's what I do, Greek, I'm
the shit detail.”

“Willya come off it
Toney said.
nothing against yo
know. He's getting old.
he just wanted to be sure.

the Greek said. “See, Mill,
somebody should've told you. You got.
see, Richic's the kind of partner you got
He gets himself all pissed off
or something and then he goes out and
does something, and then everybody
clse's got to run around and everything,
trying to cover his ass [or him. Richies
OK for а partner if you watch him real
dose and don't leave him go down the
North End and start waving his arms
at the cops or something. Ir don't mean
nothing.”

“It don't mean nothing.
“long as you understand wh
Greek. This is my business. Miller's in it
nd youre in it, because I wanted you
That's all. H's still my busi
"work it with you guys, either
one of you, ГШ go get some new guys

nd vun. it with them. 1 can do it. I'm
the guy with the OK. don't forget.”

Schabb distributed the cups of coffee
“L dunno what Fm gonna forget.” he
d, "since I wasn't here and all. You
guys mind telling me what this is all

bout
"The Greck's afraid he can't do his
b is all,"
dn

Mill. for Christ
ck don't have
He jos didne

ing worried,

to watch

guys i

ness. 1e

Torrey said. "He don't want
but thats basically what

ad

T don't like that
Richie," the Greek said. here, I
been doing this пине twenty years.
putting money out and getting it back
in again, and I'm as cold as a nun’s cunt.
You, you had а good idea, now you don't
want to listen to anybody else, you want

kind of
1 come

talk.

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10 start something, pretty soon you got
the FBI putting three guys in white
sedans out there and all. OK, don’t lis-
ien. Be a big asshole. Then when you
fuck it up good and everybody's good
and screwed, you can tell everybody you
screwed it up because you're just like a
little kid and you wanted to. I guess."
The Greek leaned forward, toward
Richie. "Now you can do that, you
want," he said, “you can. But I was here
when you got here and ГИ be here when
you're gone, I still got my regular busi-
ness. And you're not gonna fuck me up
with it, cleai

“What he's afraid of" Torrey said to
Schabb, "he's afraid the guys down to
The Bright Red'll tell him to go home
and make him cry.”

“1 don't know those guys," Schabb
said. "I was after some other guys, I
know them from around town. You see
them various places. I had about thirty
of them, the movers that don't always go
home at night like they're supposed to,
I figured them for naturals Except I
n't figure, I was talking the last two
weeks in July, first week in August.
"That's when these birds take the family
to the Cape and pretend they're behav-
g themselves. I got about four out of
the lot and I was counting on twenty.
We could've lost some serious money on
that. So I asked Richie.”

“Richie give you some bad advice,
then,” the Greck said. “ГІ do the best I
can with it this time, but I don't want

no more of this. Next time, ask me, too,

sce what I got to say.’
"OK," Torrey s
it all right, we got the Holy
‘The Greek d: “What?”
“Yeah,” Schabb said. “Saint Barbara's
Holy Name from Willow Hill there.
Going to Freeport over Labor Day.
Three glorious days and nights of sun,
sand, excitement and luxury i
the glamor center of the Caribbean, a
welcome daiquiri in the well-appointed
Casino Lounge, a pineapple in ever
spacious room, a spectacular
sparkling beaches and azure water from
your own private terrace. Plus: а sur-
prise gift for the ladies, an orchid cor-
ge about the size of a quarter that
we get for thirty-eight cents apiece. All
for the incredibly low price of three
hundred and fifty dollars a couple, in-
cluding round trip by jet and transfers
between the airport and the hotel. I cut
the parish school in for five hundred to
get the pastor to let me in the door, but
I did ic"
“Рег couple," the Grec
taking their wives,
"Sure," Schabb said. “One or two of
them wanted to know if they could
bring the Kids, but I said I couldn't
ange it.
“Isn't that something?” Torrey said.
“It sure is,” the Greck said. "It's a

sa

id. “They're

246 mes of shit is what it is Those guys

haven't got ten bucks to put on the table.
What're you giving them, counters, how
much you staking them?”

“Twenty dollars а couple,” Schabb
said. “I could've done a litte better, it's
a cheap plane ride, but I figured the
twenty was enough, That'll get them in-
side at night.”

“IWI get them inside the first night,”
the Greek said. “Daddy'll lose the
twenty while the little woman watches.
‘Then he'll lose six bucks more. Then
they'll go back the room and eat the
fuckin’ pineapple. Why the Ішекте we
giving away pineapples, for Christ sake?
Who wants a goddamned pineapple?
Everybody wants pineapple,"
Schabb said. “They started doing that in
Hawaii. Pretty soon the word got around,
Now your average clown doesn't think
he's been to a resort if there isn't a
apple on the commode when he
walks in Ше room."

“Yeah,” the Greck said. “Well, this
group, we probably ought to give one
slice of pineapple. All night long the old
lady'll be at him, dropping all that great
American dough, gambling. He wasn't
so goddamned stupid they could've
yed home and seen a movie on the six
bucks. The next two days they spend
getting dhe sun, on which we don't make
no money, the way I get it. We'll be
lucky we make expenses.

We get unlucky,” the Greek said,
СП be worse. The silly bastards won't
quit. They'll lose their fuckin’ shirts and
sign everything you put in front of
them, and then I'll have to go out and
ke а lot of washing machines and sec-
ondhand cars to write the stuff off. Why
Christ you want them nickel-stealing
for. can you tell me that?”

, they're not signing апу pa-
" Schabb said. “The priest thought
Of that one right off, and I agreed with
him. ‘No, id, ‘nothing like
that. No credit gambling. Just what they
bring with them. \
of operation, Father, trying to victimize

people. were just а travel
agency. Labor a slack period in
the package-tour business. Just a way to

ep the airplanes going and the hotels
full. Frankly, we expect to take a loss on
this, but the hotels make it up to us.

"At least you didn't Пе to a priest,”
said. “What are we gonna do

with this?’

“We're gonna take pictures of them,”
Torrey said. "That first night, they're
blowing the twenty, we're gouna, we got
this guy with a camera. He's gonna take
about eighty pictures of those jerks.
Then he's gonna send them back and
Mill's gonna make up a brochure."

Schabb grinned.

"I don't get it," the Greek said.

“It makes the 3” Schabb said. "I
talked to the Philadelphia group the
other day; they did that. They got a
deadhead bunch and they made about

sixty dollars on the deal. But then they
put it on the brochure: Holy Suck-
ers Men's Club, Satisfied Customers at
Play in San Juan. Ten pictures of fat
guys and women. You should see the
business it gets them. ‘The used-car deal-
ers and the appliance distributors and
the Rich Kids A-C., the guys who really
want to go and have the money were
interested in, they take the pamphlet
home. How does the wife argue with
them? You've really got something you
can work with, then. A trip like this is
just something you get through. Then
pays and it pays and it pays, and it just
never stops.

"You see, Greek?” Torrey asked
“Now you understand. That all right
ith you?"

“That's pretty fuckin’ good,” the

Greek said. "I got to admit it. That is all
right."

‘You never would've thought of that,
would you, Greck?" Torrey asked.

Мо,” the Greek said, “Just the ne
as you didn't think how I was gonna get
twenty-eight out of guys down in Dor-
chester there. Just like Mr. Schabb there,
got himself all steamed up, he's gonna
have some empty seats on the plane and
he's gonna lose, maybe fifteen. thousand,
so him and you get together and now as
a result, we got а pretty good chance of
losing twenty-eight, instead. See, there
was something you guys didn't think of
in a million yems, and another thing
you didn’t think of was to ask me if
maybe I thought of something. I'm dil-
ferent than you, Richie,” the Greck said,
"I always known, 1 known ever since I
got out, and that was a long time ago,

"m the kind of guy that's got to thi
about things, you know? Because there’
certain things ] can do and certain
things that if I do them, I'm gonna get
inna shit. You, I done all right, sec?
You, you don't.”

The Digger got up at H and asked his
wife for ten dollars.

"How come I got to give you te
lars out of the house money?" A,
Doherty asked. She was 39 уса
She was 5/5" tall and she
She wore a nine-dollar
‘ou don't give me enough as
then you're always coming back and dip-
ping into it. Гуе been saving up to get
my hair done. I got to have it frosted
again.”

1 thought you were gonna quit hav-
ing that," the Digger said. "You're al
ways telling me how it hurts. And it
costs, wh

“Thirty dollars" she said. "It does
hurt, it hurts a lot. They take а crochet
hook and they pull your hair out
through this cap that's got holes in it. 1
do it because I thought you liked it. You
told me you liked it, you didn't care
about the thirty dollars. Now I suppose
you're more interested in what you can

iim. N

FP WA |

“Who left the front gate open?"

PLAYBOY

do with the th s'n you care how
1 look anymore.

“Oh, boy" the Digger said. He was
cating four fried eggs, blood pudding
and toast. “It does look good. I don't
care about the thirty. You're a good
looking woman. You take care of your-
self, I appreciate it. Theres very [ew
women I ever see, raised four kids by
themselves and look as good as you do.
J said that lots of times.”

“It's nice to hear,” she said. ^I don't
know t's worth ten dollars to me, but
it iy nice to hear. You shouldn't cat so
much, you know. That stafl’s all full of
cholesterol. You're going to get yourself
a nice heart attack if you don't stop
stuffing yourself all the time.

Look," the Digger said, "I quit smok-
ing, right? You remember that? I got off
the butts. Well, that don't do the weight
no good, you kuow? You're s jed.

how much I weigh, why the hell is it I
couldn't get a minute's peace around
this house every time I tight up

cigarette
not likely to forget you quit," she
said. "It was like living with a regular
bear. No. I kuow that helps. And 1
thought: Well, let him put the blubber
on, hell take it off later. Only you
didn't, You just keep on. getting bigg
and bigger. T bet vou weigh two
hundred and fifty pounds.”

1 don't.” the Digger said.
to think so, OK. But I don't

“You don't,” she said, “it’s because you
sh more. You're probably up to two

ty-five. саг crushed
the

"Hey." id, "quit th
kind of talk, What if the kids hear you?

“If you g” she
said, "you know, you'd know where they
II went over to the pool. Any-
way, Anthony's fourteen.”

So wh v asked.

“I don't think he thinks the
brings them anymore," she said.
ОГ course he don't" the Digger said.
"He's known different since he was sis.
Hes the horniest little bastard I ever
seen. That still don't mean he oughta
hear his mother talking like а Longshore
man."

1 don't see what dillerence it make
she said. "He сап hear the bed squeak
ng, you know. As much as you weigh,
the whole house probably moves around.
He knows about sex id he knows we
do it."

You w

seve

You damned
me i

stork

Look.” the Digger said, “are you
ing your period or something? [ask you
ten bucks, you give me nothing bui
grief. You don't want to loan it to me,
say so, ГИ go cash a check.”
Aggie Doherty 100k her handbag
fom the cupboand. "IIl loan you ten
she said. "That means T get it
ht" die Digger said. “When
248 1 close up tonight, TI tike it out of

the deposit. You'll have іс tomorrow
morning.”
“How come you

didn't take it Sat-

she asked, handing him the
money. "You should've taken some
joney when you closed up Saturday. the

way you usually do, so I ООП
much money you're spending.”

I did." the Digger said.

Uh-huh,” she said, “that’s what 1 fig.
ured. Then last night after everybody
else went to bed, all of a sudden you
went ош. Now today you need ten more

Who'd you spend all your
on, Sunday night when it’s the
only night you can spend home with
your family and all of a sudden you've
got to go out? What cin she do for you
that I can't doi

"Look," the Digger said, "you went to
bed, ninethiry. Matthew and Patricia
went to bed before you. Paul right after
ward. Tony come in about ten-thirty
and he went to bed. See, I'm such a good
father. I take my family the beach on
Sunday, its my day olf. The пас
down and the traffic back, I buy practi
cally every kind of hot dog there
the world, everybody takes rides at P.
gon Park, I even give Tony five, so he
can go off and scc what's female and
breathing he can try to get in trouble. I
come home with ten or eleven bucks left
out of twenty-five I take Saturday night,
everybody craps out on the old man by
eleven. So J sit and I think and I watch
the news, I'm still wide awake. Im not
used to your kind of hours. It’s my one
night oll, for Christ sake, Fm. supposed
to spend it looking at the newspaper or
something? So 1 go down the Saratoga,
see what's going on."

"Thats what I asked you,"
“who was she?”

“1 spent four bucks on some drinks,
the Digger said. “I meet Ману Jay dow
e and we talk and I had the four
aks. A guy 1 know comes along. he's
, my big mouth, I told him, he oughta
take a cab home. No dough. So I lend
him five. 1 was there a long time, 1
didn't leave till after two, me and Marty
we cach leave the kid a buck, we take up
the table all that time, So 1 got a buck
and change оп me now. I had four lousy
drinks and I lend a guy five and now I
been out all night in а whorehouse. You
better get some fresh news, sweeth
You can't make out nowhere on
bucks anymore. АП 1 did was have
aks,”

“Martinis. 1 suppose,” she said. "You
drink too much, too. That isn't good for
the heart. 1 could smell it on you when
I woke up."

"You must've got your nose frosted in
stead of your hair," the Digger said.
drinking bourbon,”

Irs по better for the heart,
“Just for my informa
for? You got another fr
a cab;

dollars.
money

she said,

ten
four

id.
ion, what's ten
end who needs

she

as for the car," the Digger said.
"Haven't you got enough gas to get

10 work?" she asked. "You could go to
work and take it out of the till."

"Im not goin the Digger
said. “WI ее a
guy. Then I

“Where's the guy live. you need ten
dollars’ worth of gas,” she asked. "New
York City?”

"The tank's almost empty.” ihe D

ger said. He pushed the plate away. “II
have some cole if it won't do
y harm."

“Tt won't help it.” she said. pour
the coffee, "Of course T keep forgett

the way that car uses gas you pr

my

ably
couldn't go more'n twenty miles on a

tank, any!
“You know," the Digger said, “I could
et теп dollars easier, I was to go over
the Poor Clares and. beat them out of it.
And they haven't even got ten dollars, to
hear them talk, although I see they prob-
ably got a hundred thousand dollars’
worth of real estate, Jesus Christ, are you
gonna start in on the car again?

The Digger drove a 1968 Olds Ninety-
Eight convertible. It was d
had а red-teather interior.

It had factory

"Em just being pi
don't think you need such an expensive
са

car two years.” the Digger
said. "For two. years, you've been being
practical about it. Two усиз and I
haven't spent a dime on it except f
tires and gas and stuff. Not one dime. I
think that's pretty good. That's a good

ar. It’s well buil, just like you. No
pair bills.”

“Ws still a great big car," she said. “It
burns a lot of gas and you have to buy
тінімен. I drive it, the one day a year
Im lucky cnough to get the car, it’s very

hard lor me to drive. If you'd. drive

smaller eat, I could have а Volkswagen.”
“It is a great big car," the Digger said.
^As you just remind me for a couple

hours, I'm a great big man. I need a big
car. I can't get in one of them puddle
jumpers. I get in, I can't move. ‘Th
not built for a man my size. I'd break
the seat down in a week. Friday night, 1
was in one of them Jaguars. I couldn't
nove. I thought to God, I'm going to d
before I get out of this thing and they
have to bury me in i
Who do you know, owns a
she asked. "You told me you w

п

Jagua
e wa

ad 1 was,” the Digger 1
went out, alter.”
For what?" she asked.
“То sce а guy,” the Digger said. “I
went down the Saratoga and this guy I

now, he wanted to show me his new car
ы

Jerry."
ight's ¢

she said, "you wi
ing to kill you

rry me. The
You spend

e

shape of
months

to come.

PLAYBOY Playmate Calendars for 1973

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SEPTEMBER 1973
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PLAYBOY

way too much money. You drink too
much. You got friends | never see, I
don't know their names, th
Whatll I do. Jeny, with four
kids in school? Whal Î do if something
1

apens to you?”

"Ride around im a big car every day
and enjoy yourself," the Digger said.
"How the hell do I know what you're

gonna do, be doing when I'm dead? ГИ
he dead. Won't be nobody dipping in
the house money, at least, which 1 notice
is up around sixty bucks a week. Pm al-
ways dipping into my dough for twenty
more around Thursday. after I go and
give you the forty Monday. And do I
sive vou a load of shit about that? I do
not.

k to me about what it
costs to run this house," she said. “IE I
spend forty-five dollars a week оп food,
most of it goes down your gullet. The
kids go off to school on ten cents’ worth
of Wheaties, wearing cheap shoes I can
get for them in the basement, and if
Paul ever sees a pair of pants Tony
didn't wear for a year first, he won't
know what to do with them.”

Her shoulders sagged. Then without
g bim, she said: “Jerry, 1 do the
L really do. I hunt around
I cm get things on sale. But you
come down here, you've got to have the
s» and the blood pudding I have to
shop for special at the delicatessen, one-
seventy-five a pound. and it's really ter-
rible for you, and you cat three pounds

week, OIF you go whenever you like in
vour airconditioned convertible big car.
Can you understand, does that maybe
make some sense to you? The trouble is
that I'd do anything to make you happy.
1 love you. And you know й. Th
what the trouble i

“Lemme try it for the four Ii
пе," the Digger said.
can get it tmough your head this time. T
bought the car used. The air condit
ing was in it. I agree with you, it’s silly.
You put the top down, what good's the
You leave the top up all the time,

do you want a convertible for?
guy the before me, he
didn't. He wanted the air for rainy days

nd the top for nice days. OK, he was
buying it. he could have it the way he
liked. 1 didn't put it in. You take it the

Don't you

fae

way you find й. 1 wouldwt've saved
no money, I had the air taken out.
It would've cost me money. So I leave
ie in. Although w. I knew
how much it was gonna cost
me, I would've paid the extra dough to

it out."

“Anyway,” she said. "the point is that
money to spend on Jerry's just money,
and Jerry'd got it. Something his family
needs, Jerry wants to know right off,
how come ch?”

“Where'd you learn this?” the Digger
asked. "You didn't know all these songs,

d how

250 1 married you. I looked you over pretty

good. 1 didn't hear nothing like this.
Now you got that trap of yours work-
ng every minute. 1 wished I knew what
the hell happened to you, made you
dille

to be able to go to confession
"ou still can," the Digger
blocks down, three over. Из а church
thing, youll recognize it right olf.
"Course, it don't sound the same, there's
likely ло be some hairy-looking bastard
wound talking English like a
t, but it’s right there. Every
Saturday, confessions three to five and
seven to eight-thirty, unless Father Alio-
to's got tickets to the ball game. Then
seven to seven-fifteen.”

7E can’t go to confession," she said,
can't tell them what we been doing.

Oh, lor Christ sake," the Digger
| "wake up or something. Things ve
nged. Nobody pays any attention,
that. birth-control Ч Thats just the
ghinny Pope raving around. "Them guys,
they must feel like they're running a
drugstore, everybody coming in, one way
or the outer. They're used to hearing i”

"Em not used to saying it,” she said.
“ICIL bother me. What ib he asks me,
Jeary, what do I муг"

Look him straight inna screen," the
Digger said. “Tell him: "Ihe foam"
Then you зау: "What difference it

make? My husband don't like the rub-
ber boots, you take the pill you're liable
ow a tail or so ; and I ain't
them put th as
inside me’ Then ask him: “This how
you get your cookies Father? Asking
people?’ That'll slow him down."

“OL course I'll also be telling him,"
she said, “my great Catholic husband
don't want any more children. Docsn't
believe in sex lor that anymore. Just

something he likes to do, like bowling or
something."
You can tell him that, too," the

Digger said. "Matter of fact, tell him I
ией both and I think it over, 1 hadda
give up one or the other, itd be bowl-
1 see the ghi

around with a couple hundr
the next kid to eat and w

ar and go
to school on, and some more lor a bigger

house so 1 can do what 1 like to do with
out the whole goddamned world looking
on, well then Tl say: ks, Pope,”
«b maybe well think about having an-
other kid. Otherwise, my way.

IL you didn't spend every cent on
yourself,” she said, “we wouldn't need
the extra. 1 know lots of families that
haven't got anywhere near what you
make, and they live much better. Their
Kids've swimming in the ocean this week.
Our kids're over the M. D. C. pool, They
go to the Cape, the kids go to camp, and
ll nicely dressed. I never
ave an extra dime, and when I do, you
come back and take it. You and your

thav’s where the
got the big con

nderful friends.
money goes. You've
vertible. You're going to the track.
You're going to New York, to see the
Giants. We can't айога twelve hundred
dollars for three weeks at the Cape, but
you've got a thousand dollars to go to
Las Vegas. How much did you lose out
there, Jerry, in four days by yourself?

“All of it,” the Digger said. “Just like
you said.”

“How much more did you lose?” she
asked.

“We been through all of this before
the Digger said. "I told you, I was taking
a hundred bucks extra. E didn't bring no
checks with me. That's all I took. So all
right, l'm a bastard. Get off my back.

"Eleven hundred dollars,” she said. “А
hundred 1езўп we couldn't allord [or
three weeks. АШ on yourself. Oh, Jerry,
"s selfish. T think that’s very
selfish. I thought it was the limit when

i s for the sea-
riots, but at least
something for it. I

w

Шай
would've been able to see it, суеп, if

give you

of them so you could
ike the boys once in а while. But th
this is Ше worst thing you ever did,
Jerry. the absolute worst thing.”

“Good, Digger said. "That's
about the twentieth worst thing I re-
member. Now maybe you'll just howl
about Vegas all the time and give me
nge from the car and the clothes
s

“Those wer

you'd got mc

the

the worst until this one,”
she said. "Now you've topped them. I
hope you don’t think of а way to top
this, I don’t understand it. I never will.

How could vou come from the same
mothe d. father as Paul, and be so
different? So inconsiderate and mean.

Tha

ы that I will never understand.
' the Digger said.

al is
ree with you
“Couldn't you,

cat

she said, "couldn't

you just uy to be more like him?
Couldn't you do that?"
"Well" the Digger said, "I could.

"Course, ГА have to get rid of you and
them t, him being a priest and
I, 1 don't think I could qualify. But PU
give it some thought, yeah."

Think about us," she said.

ids

“Think

about your family once in a while, in-
ad of just yourself. What's happened
Jerry. think about thar. Il you

it out, tell me, will you? Just
tell me?”

The Digger stared at his coffee сш

until had left the kitchen. “So
far, the cup, “so far it's really
been a great day. I cin hardly wait for

the rest of i

This is the first of three installments
of “The Digger's Game.” Part H of the
novel will appear in the February issue.

NI P

S

`%
SI
ju

“How'd you like to spend an old-fashioned Christmas at Grandma's?”

251

PLAYBOY

252

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(continued from page 114)
hitched to the powerful team of mode:
medical science and electronics? What if
a trained psychiatrist were to deliver
that catharsis on—television! As he sub-
sequently wrote, in a technical paper
delivered before the Society of Psycho-
analytic Medicine: “A modern psychia-
trist could give more therapy in a single
ime hour in front of a camera
in a liletime beside a couch

Like Pasteur and Freud, Wagner
found his careful reasoning greeted with
bitter criticism by the more conventional
spirits of the time. No less an authority
than Dr. Max Rosenbloom of Downstate
Medical Center wrote, "I cannot help
but suggest that this Dr. Wagner is
playing with less than a full deck."

Undaunted, Dr. Wagner pursued the
logic of his premise. The choice of pro-
fessional wrestling as his vehicle for mass
therapy cime easily: In 1936, while still
in medici school, he had been the
Olympic middleweight champion. He
had long considered a wrestling match as
onc of the most direct forms of human
interaction, rivaled in intensity only by
an act of vigorous copulation. A violent
confrontation between two adversaries,
especially between a dislikable, unfair,
sexually confused neurotic and a val
iant, reality-oriented "normal," could be
universally comprehended as symbolic of
psychic struggle. Thus was born the
ic good-guy/bad-guy dichotomy that
has persisted as a staple of the sport to

By taking the badguy role upon him-
self, Wagner reasoned, he would be in
an ideal position to tap America’s vast
reserves of pathology. "Like a lightning
xL" he wrote, “I will draw to myself
and harmlessly discharge the enormous
destructive energy of the nation's leisure-
time hostility. The more they hate mc,
the more they will be free to love one

поте
George's final hypothesis was that
though the American people had a richly
varied spectrum of hates and resent-
ments, the country would be u ous
in refusing to abide an uppity fruit.
Dr. Wagner immediately set about. pre-
paring his “Gorgeous George" persona.
First he assembled a file of the most
revolting conceivable combinations of

cissism, transvestism, exhibitionism,
aggression and cowardliness, drawn from.
psychiatric case studies. While he re-

scarched, he let his own normally short,
dark h grow down to his shoulders
and bleached it blond. Then he picked
the robe:

keen al eye, his h
cleaning savvy and an ii
into one of the most ii
of finery west of the Vati
many fine examples remain on display
in the world’s most prestigious wrestling
museums.

By the spring of 1949, Dr. Wagner
was ready to dazzle an American Psychi-
atric Association symposium by outlining
his revolutionary theory and, simulta-
neously, parading an exquisite collection
of ciimson velvets, carmine silks and
apricot lamés before his astounded col-
leagues. Again, the reaction was cool. Dr.
Pincus Lett, the well-known researcher
in psychodynamic, remarked, “Nowhere
is Шеге the slightest shred of empirical
evidence to support Dr. Wagner's inane
hypothesis. It is a gra ult to the
scientific community and to wrestling
fans everywhere.

“Empirical evidence" or not, Gorgeous
Gcorge became an overnight success, Not
surprisingly, Dr. Wagners psychiatric
uaining had a marked cea on his
g style, and his bel n the
ring olten took on what he liked to think
1s the psychological subtlety of the
nal martial arts СТ let my oppo-
nent's own latent homosexuality defeat
him"). He cannily induded in his grap-
pling arsenal such cunning and dev:

ior

aker,
which he slammed his opponent to the
nd re-
тешу "What are you

thinking n more spectacular
example was the “fairy mind waves" ma-
neuver, which featured a beady-cyed
George prancing gingerly around his
wildered adversary, “hypnotizi
with a barrage of rap
and driving him to distraction with
quick, dry little kissing sounds.
Unhappily, the creative juices spilled
over into his psychiatric practice. As his
wrestling style became increasingly ana-
lytic, his consultingroom tactics began
to reflect the influence of such non-
stacks Calhoun. and
n Mountain Dean. According to some
of his colleagues, he began ignoring such
theoretical niceties as whether or not an
association clicited under the threat of a
flying headlock could
called “tree
By the winter of 1950, the level of
outrage within the profesion had
reached the point at which the Com-
mittee on Ethics of the American Psy-
chiatric Association felt it necessary to
warn Dr. Wagner that hi mboyant
and unsivory public persona [was] in-
consistent with the effective treatment
of patients and with the traditional dig
nity of the psychiatric profession." In

any sense be

пу patient?”
the hol

clfcet, he was being asked to choose Where's

tween wrest иту The nurse gave

With the ta of the E tresses a long, careful st
Committe vily o “Why don't you just
shapely shoulders George launched a doctor? LIH get the resident.”
desperate to justify his w

thodox activities. To an already sta: spectators Mashed through G:

nel.
as!" he blurted.

added a full
«d benefit

gering work load, he
schedule of chi
bouts,

ity cases

Jt was just 109 much

On the night of March 7. 1950, he was
in his dressing room at. Madison Square
Garden, preparin s comest with — For one
Haystacks Callow the
ne: One of his pat Bellevue
was demanding w sce him. He made his
choice iustantly. Leaving ins
the preliminary bouts to be stalled eve
longer than usual he
nearest. саре е chartreuse
ied the first cab he ca
| been a quiet evenit
Bellevue. When а taxi disgor
sure in fhaminge silk shores,

gehts and long Il
mur spread t

felt the heavy mitt of i
brocided should
tense moment,

Dr. Was
| been m
т. in a fl.
the floor w

ictions for

threw а

half nelson.

cumine
cape, a nervous

a whirlwind barra
Locked by ra

ui em

myency the cape
pranced wildly up
dors, delivering headshrink

d waves to staff. member

om The caped
fidently up to the
approached the desk behind hi

а

t here, ah,

ge of thousinds of restless

"My Guns ca

ook a step toward his ward and
* on his

the careful

I equilibrium іш which the sey
r and
ned
sh, he slammed the
h a deh flyi
scissors kick, lollowed quickly by a crush-
eagle pounce and a bruisi
The nurse's shni
а pair of burly black. orderlies leaping
to the fray, only to be sent reclin
f rabbit punches
to his

s brought

Gorgcous

psychiatrist
ad down rhe
s aud fa
who tried.

enveloped the tattered remnants of his
splendid costume.

Jt was Gorgeous George's final bout

Though the age of television has
moved into its second quarter. century.
our understanding of the effects of tele
vised mayhem remains woefully incom-
plete. Many of Dr. Wagners critic
used d a Belle
vue as for scurrilous рет

^s ove

unfortu cident

te

springbo:
sonal attacks on his motivation and
objectivity, but попе of them has been

able to muster a convincing body of scien-

tific evidence against his theory. In fact.

ue Char the continued popularity of professional
rgcous wrestling. the knowled that at least
teetered some TV violence has а purging ellect

wers and the recent enthusi
astic embrace of the Gorgeous George

on some vi

standard of unisex elegance all point
toward a day in the nottoodistant fı
ture when this most d nd maligned
of American psychianric thinkers may at
by det be vindicated. Sadly, Gorgeous
George will never sce that day. After his
Bellevue match, he retired quietly from
both professions and opened a small bar

соті
у

and grill in Los Ап

18 in 19
worked om his

before his untimely death
he vended bar

tantly fingering the butt of his revolver to subdue him. Nurses wept, patients p ig, FEET ase a Dear: а
wd involuntarily muttering, “AML right, howled, an alarm wailed out over the шлу! шр Tis a te dit ышы
this is i!” over and over again under his intercom. Finally, a flying squadron of ‚Жур g 4

Im Dr Wa;

“Good even пег. the “азайта

resident and orderlies managed to. pin
"and а drab str

watched "an awful lot of television.”

jacket E

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253

PLAYBOY

254

AND SO IT GOES (continued pon page 191)

Organ music flowed over the congre-
gation. Voices began to boom as the col:
lection baskets were passed around:

“I love to tell the story,
Twill be my theme in glory
To tell the old, old story

Of Jesus and his love:

this
wd over. For perhaps 15
ent on this way, with
When we get to the last
. d sing out love.
Sing i cut. Talk to Chri Jesus and

1 the gift of his love.”

The service was over.
down from his lectern.
tion drifted out into the street. Many
of them boarded buses that had trans-
ported them аз much as 50 miles. "Dr.
Paisley is right,” the woman whose face
1 won't forget said to her husband as
they headed toward their car. “Тһе
Catholics must be stopped.”

In truth, Paisley had said nothing
about stopping the Catholic. He had
talked about love and unity. In North-
nd, people hear what they

Paisley directed his flock to sin
chorus over

Paisley climbed
The congrega-

1 remember, too. a long talk I had one
night with Billy Irwin, a stern-faced lit-
Че man who admires Paisley a great deal
but professes that he is a. political and
religious moderate. Billy is 57 and, like
so many Protestants, considers himself
n Irish, "Sure enough,”
re brought up under
nd we love our country. 1 went
the British y during

the Jack
to fight in

World War Two. And where does the
LR.A. think they come off, anyway?
When I was fighting the Germans, they
were feeding the German submarine
crews that used to put into Donegal Bay.
Thats part of the bitterness, too.
‘They've always gotten along with the

lly is typical of many who haven't
t in the street fighting as yet
ont other than civil
war. “I hate it all,” he said, "but 1
leave. All me money's in my home. /
I'd have as good a chance of selling it
and getting my money now as I would
a block of cells in the Crumlin
Road Jail. So what do you do? I'm not
a coward. When a man threatens me
with a gun, I know what Гуе got to do.
I've got to get a gun of my own
Perhaps 1 met Billy at a bad time. His
house is on the border line of a Catholic-
Protestant neighborhood, Raiders from
the Catholic side have repeatedly tried
to set it afire. Perhaps that's why 1 re-
member him as the man with the an-
griest eyes I've ever
AIL the other faces I take with me out
of Northern Ireland are in turn sad, des-
perate and frightened.
Т а t the look that came

when J asked him about the death—six
months before—of one of his best friends,
Father Hugh Mullan. Father McGuigan's
eyes bulged. His ех me firm.
"I'm afraid I can't say anything about

You see, the inquest

"It's Mrs. Santa Claus, of course, dear.”

I had spoken with Father McGuigan
tppened. He couldn't

just а day after it

talk about it th either, Now, six
months later, it still had him ticd in
knots.

Father Mullan, а curate at Corpus
Christi Church іп the Ballymurph
tate in Belfast, had been shot to dı
cither by Protestant gunmen or by mem-
bers of a British ра nit on Au-
gust 9, 1971, d i
broke out following internment.
uher Mullan y round man
with a bald head and an infectious laugh.
He had a natural rapport with childr
He could play the gu nd carry
а tune. Father McGuigan and John
McKenna were with Father Mullan the
day he died. All three were in McKen-
та? living room crouched on the floor,
trying to avoid the rifle fire that kept
zooming over the McKenna home from
Protestant-dominated streets. on г
side of it. McKen
the shots were being fired not only ТУ.
members of the Protestant Ulster Volun-
teer Force but by soldiers as well.

It was just past suppertime when
the event that triggered Father Mulla
death occurred. Carryin

weed-grown field
спу in front of the McKenna house
and was struck the back by a bullet.

Father McGuigan saw him fall and
raced through the door, intending to ad-
minister the last rites, He ran only a few
steps and then turned and raced back.
He didn't have the necessary vestments
with him. “Don't worry, Felix,” shouted
Father Mullan, racing out into the field,
“T'I do it. 1 have mine.

Father Mullan ran to his car, pulled a
stole from a small black bag and began
running across the field toward the
wounded man. w Father Mullan go
down right after he got into the field,”
McKenna rt ad 1 thought he
was а goner.

But he got

xdkerchi ig it over
nd he kept running until hc
ned m d Кас
magine they
e and then

his head
reached the wo
down beside him. Can you

let him get all the
they shot him?"
But that wasn't the end of it. Fı
Quinn, 41, another member of th
pus Christi parish, ran into the field to
assist Father Mullan. Quinn was killed
instantly by a bullet that struck him in
the back of the head. Gerald Mooney, a
ld former British soldier ser g
id m shed out into the
field next. He m
Jan's side. "T lifted the priest
him in my arms" Mooney He
was praying to himself and when he
realized І was picking him up, he shook
his head and said: "No use, lad. Run for

ank
Cor-

it. Save yourself! The shooting grew
heavy then and I had to drop Father
Mullan and dive for cover. I could see
the bullets hitting all around him. Then
he groaned one last time and that must
have been the bullet that killed him, be-
cause he was quiet after that.”

For a long time after Father Mullan's
death, a sign was posted on the spot
where he died. rins 15 THE PLACE WHERE
FATHER MULLAN WAS SHOT DEA
ISH SOLDIERS FOR TRYING TO 1
MOVE FROM ‘THEIR HOMES, it read. The
sign was crudely printed, as though it
had been done by a child’s hand.

Father Mullan had lived next door to
the McKennas. He had been a close
friend as well as their confessor. All of
the houses on the street were constructed
within the past two years. Every house
has a fine view of the Black Mountains
overhead. The air is fresh and clea
The day Father Mullan died, there were
125 families living on the block and the
streets adjoining. Nine months later, all
but six of those families had moved out.
le newly constructed homes were v.
мей and their doors and windows
bricked over so they could not be used as
bases for snipers.

And Father. McGuigan, who believes
that if he had come prepared with his
own chasuble Father Mullan would bc
today, still refuses to talk about
ppened. But he is only one of
hundreds of people in Northern Ireland
who have been damaged.
anager of the restaurant in the
Europa hotel is 51 years old now and
she remembers the night the Germans
bombed Belfast. She was formerly the
manager of the lunchroom in the Grand
Central Hotel, which was destroyed by
an I. В.А. bomb. All she can talk about

D BY

BRIT-

is the bombing campaign of the
She

now
Provisionals.
bout it.

For ye
my best fr

has reason to think

ill tell you, "one of
lor me as a м
ic over here to the
ed to get a. parttime job
But 1 couldn't do it. She
1 days later, she
‘I got a part-

m

she ма
g for me.
went on looking. Sev
came | 1 smili
me job, she said. ‘It’s going to wor
out fine.’ Two days later, the L К.А.
bombed the restaurant, 1 went to the hos-
pital to sce her. J couldn't believe it. She
had lost both legs at the knees. She had
lost the liule finger of her right hand.
She had lost one eye. She's fifty-three
years old and she smiled at me and
“1 guess T should
alive, shouldn't I?

Leslie Dunne, the hall porter, just
g to tell me the cab is waiting. This
has not been a good visit. The Europa
has been bombed three times by Ше
1. R. A. since it opened in August 1971.

‘The windows in this room do not shut.
H's freezing. The door at the end
of the hall was blown out. The wind
whips down the hall with a great swoosh-
ing noise. They search you every time
you enter.

My shocs are missing and the manager
says I shouldn't worry. Probably some-
опе has taken them as a joke, he say
lt is not an answer that makes me feel
much better. The shoes are gone rather
than shined and it's I and not the Eu-
ropi’s manager who will be wearing
white Adidas jogging shoes with red and
blue stripes on the plane across the
Atlantic. Oh, well, writers are supposed
to be eccentric.

‘There is only one stop 1 want to make.
1 want to go up to the Clonard district,
the great stronghold of the Provision:
IR. A, and see Lilly Hannaway befo:
depressing 100-
yearold tenement on Cawnpore Street
and she has been fighting the British for
most of her 52 year

Lilly Hannaway will never sto
husband, Liam, was picked up
first batch and interned in Long kesh
prison camp. So were her three sons,
Dermott, Terry and Ke

I'm in luck. Lilly is home. She looks
d but defiant. The imprisonment of
the men in her family has hardened her.
Tt has broken her heart and twined her
lile into a lonely, dreary ordeal. She lives
for the day they will be released. She
visits them at every opportunity, taking
them encouraging news about the success
of the bombi
turns to her tiny living room,
ch: nd waits. "It broke my heart. the
day they came and wok my men,” she
said, "but were going to win in the end.
Of course we are. This is our country,
a't it? Even il get when it’s all
over is enough g 10 bury ourselves

It is a Saturd
driver is a Protestant, He h:
fied to drive his cab into the Clon
district, whidı is a well-known Catholic
ghetto. Now that we are out of the
he [eels relieved. "We'll never give in to
them, You can see what they're
like. You've been here long cnough.
You've seen it, haven't you? They won't
work. They don't keep their houses
clean. They drink too much and have too
many children that they won't care for.
We'll ne if we have to
do them all in before it's over.”
A soft rain is falling. The I
tains are covered with green. The cab
stops in front of the airport terminal
"Doing an article, are you?” the cab
driver says. "Here's my name and ad
dress. Send me a copy, will you? But for
God's sake, don't usc my name. You'll
get me killed."
ga

s been terr
rd

give in—e

5 Moun-

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256

BY Lii Lidl TR AND WILL ELDER.

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AFTER THE “DADDY” BATH
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ГЦ. GIVE YOU.
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AND WE CAN WATCH AN INSTANT
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257

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NO INTER-
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CONDITIONING, CHILD.
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JUST DON'T BLACK-OUT
ST DON THE POWER
WILL EVEN-
TUALLY COME

YOU
PANICKED!

T's

Back ON
AGAIN AND

uM | M

PN wu.
Же? NO ELEVATORS?!
TLL JUST SWITCH ON
THE AUXILIARY
EMERGENCY
GENERATOR-

~ NO GENERATOR,
JUST DONT PANIC.

MY FOOT'S
CAUGHT, AND
ICAN'T REACH |$
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VOU'KE KIGHT,
ANNIE. DADDY I5 BEING
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THESE DARK
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258

¥
і i iau 3
PIHE RETURN OF POWER ACTIVATES THE ELECTRONIC CONTROL PANEL

REVOLVING BED (E)

), ACTIVATES THE SCENT OF WET SWEAT socks (D), SPINS THE
WHICH, IN SPINNING, SNAGS THE TV-CAMERA CAELE (E), DRAGGING CABLE, CAMERA
AND DADDY BIGBUCKS INTO THE “DADDY” BATH (8)

), WHICH, UNATTENDED,

ШІ SENDS THE GUADRAPHONIC SOUND SYSTEM INTO A MEDLEY OF KATE SMITH OLDIES (Б), MAKES
THE WALL PROJECTIONS RUN AMUCK

, AND CASCADES GENTLE SPRING RAINS AND
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INSTANT PLAYBACK OF DADDY BIGBUCKS BEING ELECTROCUTED (1).

WHEN THE MOON
COMES OVER THE
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1
ам oz!
STEP
FORWARD,
TIN MAN!

FRED:
BLUE > YELLOW
SPARKS! GLORY-
jÎ OSKY ANO FAR OUT,
0А00Ү-- WHAT A

AU
CONTRAIRE,
- МУ DEAR,
THAT'S MY
HARK! THERE'S POCKET BEEPER.
AN ORIOLE? HELP ME TO THE

J | ТЕДЕН
SIGH
PHONE, ANNIE 5
> < ITS BY THE
TWEETLE |
IT's 6000

@ | LIZARDS!
- MICROWAVE OVEN
TWEETLE WOOP! À ABOVE THE ELECTRIC
eno OSET (ыру 8 n z WATER PIC IN THE
ROM THE ELECTRONIC \ d x = BATHROOM
WORLD OF MECHANICAL | Tee PAN OF THE

PLEASURES, EH, 'HRASHER: RN HELICOPTER.

CHILD? "y 2

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259

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