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BOBBY FISCHER— 
YOU DON'T KNOW 
THE HALF OF HIM 


AN INTERVIEW WITH 
KURT VONNEGUT, JR. 


ONE LAST CRACK AT 


GLORIOUS DECADENCE: 


JOSEPH WECHSBERG 
ABOARD THE FRANCE 


ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN 


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EIGHT FREAKY 
WAYS TO BEAT THE 
STOCK MARKET 


BOND GETS SAINTED! 
ROGER MOORE AS 007 
IN "LIVE AND LET DIE" 


ON LOCATION WITH Ј.С. 
AND ALL THE GANG: 
JESUS CHRIST SUPERHAM 


T 


SMIRNOFF® VODKA. BO& 100 PROOF DISTILLED FROM GRAIN. STE, PIERRE SMIRNOFF FLS (DIVISION OF HEUBLEI Је ЕВЕ М, INCORPORATED. HARTFORD. CONNECT) 


The Grapeshot. ЕЙ 2 
(A drink to things past.) 
Remember how you used to 
race the neighbor kid home 
from school—and you'd get 
RA so thirsty vou could drink the 
whole Mississippi? Then 
Mom would give you grape 
juice that left you with a nice 
purple moustache. A 


To make a Grapeshot, pour 
an ounce or so of Smirnoff 
in a glass with ice. Fill with 
grape juice. Garish with 


try sometime when you're Temon and orange wedges 


feeling playful. If you haven't 
felt that way in a while, a 
ќ purple moustache might help. leaves you breathless 


Built for sports car enthusiasts 
by sports car enthusiasts. 


re 
BRITISH LEYLAND MOTORS INC., LEONIA, NEW JERSEY 07605 


вуг; 


The roads around the MG works in 
Abingdon, England are curved and 
narrow. They wend north to Oxford, 
east toward Dorchesler and south to 
the channel. Some were laid out in the 
14th Century, when horsepower was 
easier to measure. 

It's по wonder the whole idea of a 
Popular-priced sports car originated 
there. 

And it's no wonder the people 
who assemble today's MGs have 
sports cars in their blood 

in the days of the MG racing team, 
the whole factory stopped and 
cheered when news of another victory 
reached them. Today, many of the 
same workers, or their sons and 
Grandsons, still work on сиг MGB 
Production line—the shortest, slowest 
and least automated one we know of. 

The MGB body shells are 
mounted on individual assembly 
trucks and pushed onto a track. The 
first team goes to work methodically 
and carefully, unpressured by а 
grinding set of automated tracks. 

When they complete their jobs, 
they push the car to the next station. 
By hand. 

This ritual is repeated only 20 
limes down the line. The result is a 
sports cartha'sfamous for its stamina, 


durability and careful workmanship. 

Of course, MGB's greatness 
comes not only from how we built it. 
but from what we build in it. Rack and 
Pinion steering for quick, responsive 
control. Race-seasoned suspension 
fora firm grip on the road. And a four 
speed, short-throw gearbox to put 
your reflexes in touch with the 1798 
с.с engine. 

The MGB also has radial-ply tires, 
mag-style wheels, front disc brakes, 
monocoque body, reclining bucket 
seats and full sports car 
instrumentation. 

So the next time an MGB amazes 
you with its facility to negotiate a 
curve or maneuver in a pack, don't be 
so amazed. It was built by people who 
know what sports car motoring is all 
about. 

That may explain why MGB is the 
reigning National Champion inSCCA's 
E Production for the second year in 
атом. 

So go meet another sports саг 
enthusiast—your MG dealer. 

For his name and for information 
aboul overseas delivery, call 
(800) 447-4700. In Illinois, call 
(800) 322-4400. Calls are toll free. 


D The sports car America loved first. 


THERE VE BEEN 24 CHARCOAL FILTER CIGARETTES, BUT 


THERE'S ONLY ONE 
NUMBER ONE. 


THIS ONE. 


Tareyton was America's first 
charcoal filter cigarette. 

It's been America's best-selling 
charcoal filter cigarette ever since. 

No surprise. Tareyton is Amer- 
ica's best-tasting charcoal filter ciga- 
rette. Twenty-three other charcoal 


filters have come. And mostly gone. 
But today, more people smoke 
Tareyton than all the other charcoal 
filter cigarettes combined. 
The number one charcoal filter? 
"There's only one. The first one. 
"Tareyton. 


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


King Size: 19 mg “tar”. 13 mg nicotine; 100 mm. 20 mg "tr". 14 то nicotine, av. per cigarette, FIC Report Feb 


PLAYBIL SOMETIMES A JOURNALIST conducts his basic 
nating item in the paper and follows it off and on through the y 

But if that small news clip grows into a full event, he suddenly 

happened to Brad Darrach after he heard about 

read about this phenom 

1 finally met him in New Yor 


ıl prodigy, I filed the inform 
‚ where we had a steak dinner and played chess. I wasalw ays 


research without consc 


usly knowing it. He reads a fasci- 
simply because it interests him. 
nds himself peculiarly qualified to write about it. This 
-old kid from Brooklyn named Bobby Fischer. “When 1 first 
on away in my head and began to keep track of his activities. 
«ш around Bobby, fou b 


13-yea 


nis in Manhattan, things like that. By the time championship negotiations were under way, 1 


place to play tei 
alking with his 


aides and lawyers a 
ible, through m: 
by Shawn Shea), a vivid account of th 


ny long interviews with them, ro construct The Day Bobby Blew It (illustr 
т Irantic efforts to get him on that plane to Iceland. "I was already up there,’ 

le these events were gi 
him was not the c ur ae not the money, but the need to achieve all of it on his u 
my was admirable, especially when you consider that, 


s finished, D: 


ly.” After the match wa ach spoke with members of 
ted 


ys 


ng on in New York. What was reall 


y most important to 
ms. I think his battle for autono- 

п my opinion, another part of him was terrified during 

This month's lead fiction, A Society of Friends, by Tom Mc- 
Hale, is the splendid offshoot of his recent novel, Farragan" 5 Re- 
treat. “11 was material I wanted to get into the book but couldn't" 
he explains of these soulless characters, who take a boat ride to 
dispose of a body—and get in a little deep-sea fishing. McHale 
is presently finishing a new book, Alinsky’s Diamond, which 
he calls “my Jewish novel.” 

A group as callous to death as McHale's fictional cast is the elite 
medical emergency corps of the Miami Beach Fire Department, 
with whom Donn Pearce spent [our days to write Win Some, Lose 
Some. But Pearce defends the men's in у 
they got emotionally involved, they'd go The Miami 
Beach squad, he observes, is unique in that there's a doctor with 
every team and the service is free, "which makes it, as far as I 
know, the only pure form of socialized medicine in America." 

One thing you can say for Norman Jewison, director of the film 
Jesus Christ Superstar—he d ve the title role to Charlton 
Heston. But he did give it to a young Texas drifter “at a ary 
reported to be in three figures,” and Nik Cohn figured there had 
to be some strange vibrations on the set—ie., 
» the Holy Land. When you read his article, Jesus 
Christ Superham, you'll see he was right. 

Robert L. Fish's July fiction contribution, The 
Wager, describes а long sea cruise taken by his 
protagonist as part of a bet he either wins or loses, 
depending on whether you love hot art or cold 
cash. Joseph Wechsberg also writes about an 
ocean voyage this month 
in A Crossing on the France, (Wechsberg's latest 
book, The Glory of the Violin, is published by 
Viking) And there's plenty more to entertain 
you: Max Gunther's compilation of bizarre stock- 
market indicators, How to Beat the Stock Market 
by Watching Girls, Counting Aspirin, Checking 
Sunspots and Wondering Where the Yellow 
Went; Washington Star columnist James Jackson 
Kilpatrick's In Search of the Savage Bijoona, a 
whimsical report on his continuous war against 
a cursed male nemesis; The Time Machine, by 
Robert F. Young, an ingeniously crafted work of 
science fiction; artist LeRoy Neiman's Summen 
of 772, updating social lile in the Hamptons 
David (The Best and the Brightest) Halbers 
harsh essay on th jaceless efficiency experts at 
1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, The Worst and the 
Gayest; The Odd Couplers, by cartoonist John 
Dempsey; and Getting Off on the Right Shoe, 
footwear fashion illustrated by Guy Fery. Adc 
tionally, there's big-top uncoverage of circus 
beauty Tina Cristiani, shot by Alexas Urba; a 
look at the newest Playboy Club-Hotel; the 
latest James Bond film; an introduction to Tisa 
arrow; and an interview with novelist-cult hero 
Kurt Vonnegut, Jr. Lots ol fireworks for July. 


luxuriously real one, 


vol. 20, no. 7— july, 1973 


PLAYBOY. 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL "E - — Ере з 
DEAR PLAYEOY. — эзе —— n 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS. 3 E eee E 19 
ART Tm — x SE 000 
BOOKS ар & з= 


DINING-DRINKING .. 


MOVIES — х 3 
RECORDINGS. .-,. Е де 3 
ы ыы E Е T 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR LE 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM — s = 49 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: KURT VONNEGUT, JR.—cerdid conversation xW 
A SOCIETY OF FRIENDS—fiction TOM MC HALE 76 
рк THE DAY BOBBY BLEW IT—personolity BRAD DARRACH ВО 
TISA—pictorial - 83 
JESUS CHRIST SUPERHAM—orticle, мк COHN 88 
A CROSSING ON THE FRANCE—travel JOSEPH WELHSBEKG 91 
GETTING OFF ON THE RIGHT SHOE—ottire ROBERT 1. GREEN 94 


IN SEARCH OF THE SAVAGE BISOONA—humor JAMES JACKSON KILPATRICK 99 


THE ODD COUPLERS—humor -JOHN DEMPSEY 101 
MUCINDEDSS PECKINPAH, BERGMAN—AND SMITH? —ployboy's ploymate of the month... 106 
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor > 114 
HOW ТО BEAT THE STOCK MARKET BY WATCKING GIRLS, COUNTING ASPIRIN, 
CHECKING SUNSPOTS—arlicle MAX GUNTHER 116 
GREAT GORGE!—pictoriol essay . n9 
THE WAGER —fiction ROBERT 1. FISH 127 
DOING IT WITH LIGHTS—modern living . 128 
THE TIME MACHINE— fiction ROBERT Е. YOUNG 131 
[spera TINA OF THE TANBARK—pictorial ‚135 
WIN SOME, LOSE SOME—a: DONN PEARCE 142 
THE VARGAS GIRL—picloricl ALBERTO VARGAS 144 
А CAT O' NINE TALES—ribald classic . 145 
SAINTED BOND—pictorial 147 
THE WORST AND THE GRAYEST—opinion DAVID HAIBERSTAM 151 
SUMMER OF '72— picloricl LEROY NEIMAN 152 
ОМ THE SCENE person . 168 
Shoe Business Y PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 5 . 174 


RESERVED PLIYEOY AND RABBIT HEAD SYMBOL ARE MARKS OF PLAYBOY, REGISTERED U S. PATENT OFFICE. MARCA REGISTRADA, мНСШЕ DEPCSEE NOTHING MAY ве REPRINTED IM той: Om IN 
T WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIMILAFITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SEMIFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AND ANY REAL PEOPLE 
AND PLACES I3 PURELY COINCIDENTAL. CREOITS: COVER: MOOEL PLAYMATE KAREN CHRISTI. DESIGNED EY LEW WILLIS. FHOTOGHAPHY BY рон AZUMA. OTHER FHRTOGRAPHT BY: OSCAR 
ABOLATIA, "а: BILL ARSEWAMLT, € 3, 122 (3): рот Azuma, P- YZ4-123; LONNIC BADIS, Р. 2; зони BRYSON, P. 147 (2). 148-119 (2), RICK CUTIE, Р 3, 125. RAY FISHER. P 3. DILL FRANTZ, P 3, 
MEoPicHoLeseine 110, омтонт наоко, P. 140. єгїз), заз. CARL ат. P 3s € OICR NONTON, F з; TERRY O'NERL. P. NAT (2), 140-149 (3): 1 BARRY O'ROURKE, P. 2 (2), 122. 12 
ROBERT PHILLIPS. Р 108. пов, 118: VERNON L SMITH. р 3 (3). ALEKAS шави © 123. V2} (2). 124-125 (3), VOTAVA/CA MEIA PRESS. P э, WARNY MENOLAS mOmCHUR. P 05.) айт. Тама. T. Y 


MOMSEN 7 PUBLISWED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, IN NATIONAL AND REGIONAL EDITIONS. PLAYBOY BUILDING, 818 NORTH MICHIGAN AVENUE 
зз POSTHOE PAID AY CHICAGO, ILLINOIS, AMD AT ADDITIDTAL MAILING OFFICES SUBSCRIPTIONS. IN THE UNITED STATES, PIO FO! ONC TEAR 


If your Dads 
the best, 
our Dads 
the best. 


Head of The Bourbon Family. 


Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskeys, 86 proof and 100 proof Bottled in Bond. Old Grand- Dad Distillery Co., Frankfort, Ky. 40601. 


PLAYBOY 


“You're a disgrace to the regiment!’ they said 
as they tore the stripes from my arm. 


“Goodbye 
NICK” 


My name was Pierre Ettienne La Rogue. But my 
fellow officers in the French Foreign Legion called те; “Nick” I can 
still hear their jeers as they pointed = 
to the shaving nicks that deco- 
rated my face like medals of dis- 
honor. And then that blackest of 
black days—I was drummed out of 
the Legion. "You're a disgrace, 
Nick! they said as they tore 
the stripes from my arms. 

I wandered alone beneath 
the desert stars, pondering 
my fate. Suddenly, at an 
oasis, a mysterious bedouin 
slipped me a Gillette Tech- Ç 
matic" razor. I turned the 
lever to adjust it to my own / 
individual face and beard. 

I discovered that instead 
of bladcs with sharp cor- 
ners that can cut and nick 
my face, there's a continuous 
razor band. All safely enclosed in 

a cartridge so I will never have to 0) 
touch a sharp edge again. And I even 5 

noticed the different feel of the Techmatic...the lightness, the bal- 
ance. And I knew I would always get a smooth, safe shave. 

I was restored to my regiment with honor and became known as 
“Pierre of Pakistan" And as long as there is a Gillette Techmatic... 
Jo man will ever again 
call me "Nic 


f^ 
With Gillette TECHMATIC 
it's good-bye Nick 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 


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


MURRAY FISHER, NAT LEHRMAN 
assistant managing editors 


пру editor 


EDITORIAL 
ARTICLES: DAVID BUTLER editor, GEOFFREY 
NORMAN associate е G. BARRY COLSON 
awistant editor = FICTION: kome MACAULEY 
editor, STANLEY pnev asociale 
SUZANNE MC WALTER SUBLET 
editor + SERVICE FEATURES 
modern living editor, ROGER WIDENER aisist- 
ant editor: ROWERE 1.. GREEX fashion director. 
DAVID PLATT associate fashion director, Wat- 
ree HOLMES fasion editor; sowas 
food & drink editor « CARTOONS: 
URKY епот » COPY: ARLENE BOURAS 
SIAN AMBER assistant editor « STAFF: st 
LAURENCE. ROWER J. SIFA, DAVID STEVENS 
senior editors: LAURENCE GONZALES, wet ror 
эх, DAVID SEANDISIE, €R: 
PIS; DOUGLAS BAUER, W 
EN MG NESE, CARE SNYDER 
editar; DOUGLAS C. BENSON, ROI 
BAUCH, у. F. O'CONNOR, JAMES R. 
ARNIE WOLFE assistant editors: SUSAN 
МАША SEKAM, BARRARA NELLIS, KAREN TAD: 
DERUD, LAURIE SADLER. BERNICE T. ZIMMERMAN 
research editors; ү. YAU. cerry (business 
= finance). XAT HENTOFF, JACK р. KISSIE 
RICHARD WARREN LEVIS, RAY RUSSELL. JEAN 
энегин ON 
imovie 
ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES: тико PREDITACK 
пне! «сепи. лакад PAPANGELES 
ministrative edilor; CATHERINE GENOVESE 
rights © permissions; MILDRED ZIMMERMAN 
administrative assistant 


имен. 
riale 


ART 
том STAFI ER, кені POPE asocia 

APL SMSSON executive а 
MOODY, LEN WILLIS, C 
DON MORUNSEN, FRED NELSON, JOSEPH PACZEK, 
ALFRED ZELCER assistant directors: JULIE FILERS, 
VICTOR HUBBARD, GLENN STEWARD art assistants 


directors, 
ani; won 
SKL, GOR, 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
MARILYN GRANOWSKE west coast edito 
COLE, HOLES WAYNE associate editor 
somis technical editor; wits 
DON AZUMA. DAV 

тма HOOKER, P 
raphers: MARIO CV 
BRIAN D. HENNESSEY, ALEXAS URBA contributing 
photographers: Juvy Jonxson assistant ed 
tor: 110 kewe photo lab supervisor; JaxicE 
меккомтта MOSES chief stylist; konket CELUS 
uelministrative editor 


L and MEL PICCE, 


PRODUCTION 
Jons masto director; NILEN VARGO man- 
ageri FLYANORE WAGNER, RITA JOHNSON, 
RIA мам QUARTAROLI assistants 
READER SERVICE 
CAROLE citi director 


CIRCULATION 
THOMAS б, WILLIAMS customer service 
B wirobb subscription manager; 
cext THOMPSON newsstand танах 


ADVERTISING 
HOWARD W. LEDERER advertising director 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, ING 
ROBERT S. PREUSS business manager and 
associate publisher; RICHARD S. ROSENZWEIG 
ve asistan! to the publisher: 
DM. korr assistant publisher 


7 TIMEX ELECTRONIC WATCHES YOU DON’T HAVE TO WIND 
(ALL AT A PRICE YOU CAN AFFORD). 


and 
ive. You can buy one 
ndar, from only $30. 


See? We told you, you could afford to buy one. 


THE ELECTRONIC TIMEX: FROM $25. 


A Fox is quick(0to 50 in 10 seconds). 
It's surefooted (front-wheel drive). 
This sly, cunning sedan can take the 
sharpestturns nimbly (sports car type 
\ steering and suspension). 
b) Itcan stop straight in its tracks (special 
\ braking/steering systems). And it doesn't 
eat much (23 miles per gallon). 
Best of all, for under $3,400*you 
can catch the Fox. 


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


Heineken 
tastes tremendous 


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


DEAR PLAYBOY 


E) гоюн PLAYBOY MAGAZINE - PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


THE WHOLE TI 
My thanks to pLaywoy for the April 
keout on 1 Lovelace (Say “Ah!") 
id my congratulations to Linda for her 
honest attitudes toward human sexuality 
She is obviously а woman who has read 
her Socrates. Hopefully, her example will 
le; 


NG 


1 others to the realization that an ex- 
panded sexual repertoire is not a symp- 
tom of depravity but, rather, a rellec 
of sexual liealih and creativity. И Deep 
Throat succeeds in expandi 
horizons (and there are many indications 
that it has). it will have 
deeming social value. 


ion 


& sexual 


roved its re- 


P. Peterson 
Washington, D.C. 


The only obscene thing about. Deep 
Throat is that. Linda 00 for 
her performance. The moneygrubbers 
are everywhere 


you just St 


Dave Matteson 
Warwick, Rhode Island 


I always knew that Texas spawned the 
biggest Liars, the crookedes politicians 
id the largest pricks. Now I see that the 
Lone Star State can also boast the world’s 
most accomplished cocksucker. Congratu- 
lations, Texas. 


Jay P. Erst 
Norwalk, Connecticut 


What the hell kind of magazine are you 
turning into? Whatever clse she might be. 
Lovelace isn't a very attractive woman. I 


ssume that’s why your photos of her 
are so out of focus. Leave the likes of 
Lovelace to magazines such as Scie 
aynoy’s readers are sufficiently well 
adjusted as to not need that kind of 
titillation 


Gregory Gaines 
New York. New York. 


Your story about. Linda Lovelice was 
entertaining, if not entirely accurate. Al 
though Deep Throat was her first film of 
lasting consequence, she cut her 
teeth in porno films long belore Throat 
1 quote here from a stag-film catalog 1 re 
ceived recently, which offers the following 
four films (for $29.95 each): 

“Pis Orgy—Stars Linda Lovelace 
(shaven slim, beautiful 


nematic 


4 a very yow 


. The acio 
with dildo, Lesbianism, much piss- 
agus. Good quality 

181 & MS2—A two-part series. only 
available as a set, with one man, Linda 
Lovelace (shaven) and a very prety red- 
head. Excellent action, variety, quality: 
with anal screwing, dildo. Lesbian 
ty. come in mouth aud lace 
“Dogarama—Stars Lind: 
n a man: and a Ge 


Lovelace 


Considerable oral 
топ, good qua 


Fucker—Stars 
with a brownish large hound-type d 


Considerably oral. Not as good as 


Партита 
Tm nor sure that Г endorse your concha- 
sion that Linda “would make а hell of a 
wife” I 1 were married to her, I sure 
wouldn't want апу pets around. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Dallas, Texas 


e says "Deep Throat was really 
just me, acting naturally.” Then she says 
she “had ло spend three or four weeks 
learning how to keep irom gagging.” 
This is natural? 1 had all I could do 10 
keep from gagging mysell. but. for dil- 
ferent reasons, 


Mis. Davis Bradley 
East Islip, New York 


On the controversial subject of g 
one can find, in The Cradle of 
(in the section on oval i 
following note: "Scientific findings con- 
firm that the chances of gagging dimin 
as the degree of erotic arow 
with a fully aroused fell. 
able to perform violent up-and-down 
movements npon the full length of 
penis, something that would surely 
provoke gagging under any other circu 
stance than intense sexual excitement 

Robert J. Houbrick 
West Chester, Pennsylvania 


tercourse 


increases. 


or (or fellatrice) 


When you feature а porno queen who 
s she likes to get fucked in the “thro: 
ass, cunt, опе, two. three. order 
and then conclude your article with 
the statement that “a welLrounded. girl 
like her would make а hell of a wile,” 
you pose a question: Would she also make 


PLAYBOY, JULY. 1973, VOLUME 20, UNGER 7. PUMLISNED MONTHLY зү PLAYBOY, PLAYBOY ашконо, 319 м. MICHORN 


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Our tests prove no other 
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n 


PLAYBOY 


12 


a hell of a mother? Would she be able 
to keep things out of her orifices long 
enough to nurse Or are you 
merely poking fun 1 unfortunate 
and ignorant girl 


anthony Сох 
edar Rapids, Iowa 

Fun is the one thing we wouldn't 
poke at Linda. And, for the record, we 
don't think marriage is synonymous with 
parenthood, 


SIDE SHOW 

When | came upon Fred Powledge's 
The Big Top Wants You! (vtavnoy, 
April). 1 thought, Oh, God! Another of 
those screwed-up circus articles by some 
firs-ofMay who knows absolutely noth- 
ing about circuses. Was T in for a pleas 
ant surprise! By the time I'd finished the 
first page, I realized that Powledge hadn't 
written any sawdust-and spangles garbage 
He wrote a real, genuine, down-to-earth, 
dog-and-pony. horseand-lion article 
bout the real uoupers of a mud show. 
What a trip. reading of ole Dime Wilson 
again, conjuring up visions of Echo Ye 
shida, the foot juggler, and of Texas Ted 
Lewis, who worked his wikl West coucert 
with the likes of Hoot Gibson and Tom 
Mix. Powledge took me back to the days 
m performers didn't need mechanical 
belts and when clown alley wasn't mostly 
stand full of dirty-necks. Believe 
me, those were the days. 

Vern W Coriell 
Kansas City, Missou 

Coriell is master of the original high- 

wire head slide, whatever that i 


Everything Powledge says in his article 
is true. D am speaking from practical 
experience of over a quarter of a century. 
1 know Junior, the wildanimal trainer 
mentioned in the article, very well. I 
worked with him in the Clyde Beatty 
Circus when he was a cage boy. He is 
the only black wild 
the circus world toda 
man. Incidentally, the people working 
with wild animals refer to themselves as 
Diners, not timers, There is no such 
tamed wild animal. You cin 
i, but you can't rame them, 

Count Nicholas 
Sarasota, Florida. 

Count Nicholas was longtime ring- 
master for the Ringling Brothers, Bar- 
mum & Bailey circus. 


Congratulations to Powleds 
portant article. His ability to get inside 
Hoxie Tucker's empire made for а most 
yable piece of reading. 

P. E. Pepke 
orth Warren, Pei 


nia 


asylv: 


With all respect to Powledge and his 
pontificating abou the circus repre 
life, 1 must say that he failed 


to get the real story behind the circus. I 
spent several weeks last year with the 
Hoxie outfit, working as a roustabout and 
a. The things i 
10 men and ani nd the 
iving conditions 1 have ever e 
perienced made me conclude tha 
ledge’s romantic vision of. circus 
belongs on the ground, under the ele- 
phant shit, 


prop m 
cruelty 


Ken Wall 
Athens, Ohio 


WILSONOPHILIA 
When are you guys going to publish a 
book of Gahan Wilson's cartoons? 
Harold Demeter 
New York, New York 


Asa loyal son's—who, 
5 far as I'm concerned, is the best cir- 
toonist in the world—I'm writing to ask 
two questions. One: Have you ever pub- 
lished a collection of Wilson's cartoon 
Two: When did Wilson's first PLAYBOY 

artoon appear? I want to get a copy of 
it and frame it. 


Tony Rubio 

San Diego, California 

"Pravnov's Gahan Wilson,” а maga- 
zine-sized puperbound book of Wilson's 
most macabre PLAYROY cartoons—almoast 
300 o[ them—is now available [rom 
Playboy Press, 919 North Michigan Ave- 
nue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. T he price is 


“The idea is to start a little 


satellite program of our awn...” 


82.50 per book, plus а handling charge 
ol 50 cents per order. Wilson's. first 
PLayaoy cartoon, reproduced here, ap 
peared in our December 1957 magazine 
Good luck on finding a copy. 


TRUTH OR CONSEQUENC 

Craig Verter’s April investigation of the 
Psychological Stress Evaluator, The Lie 
Machine, is great. It brought back memo- 
ries of a polygraph test 1 was required to 
take when applying for a job. The exam- 
iner said I lied during the test, and I 
ed to get the job, But 1 didn't lie; he 
did. 


Frank R. Baner 


Alcova Wyoming 


I read Veuer's 


tide just prior to p 
ticipating in ап orientation course ar 
the factory that manufactures the PSE-1, 
one of the lie detectors featured in the 
article. 1 must report. however, that, 
like Vener. 1 did not find the pl 
be a den of spies but, rath 
of scientific research 
Richard M. Eberst 
College Park, Maryland 


e to 
a laboratory 


HIT OR MISS 
1 have nothing but 
we Fisher and * 
trigger man, for their April article. 
er. This powerful report on a hit 
revealed that, if nothing else, the 


praise for wi 


behind the gun is human. too 
Derek Benedict 

Lackland APB, Texas 

Killer îs one fine piece of journalism. 


which, for me, had the same impact as 
Truman Capote's In Cold Blood. 1 don't 
like what "Joey" docs and damn sure 
don't condone psophy is the 
шом honest Ге heard in a long time. 
Mike Anson 
Los Angeles, Са 


bur 


Horni 


“Joey's” life has been pretty good. He's 
made about 51.000.000 over the past 25- 
odd years. And—just think—all it cost 


him was the woman he loved and 0 
child he might have had. 
Tom 


brook: 


New York 


uU 


s slick cosmeti 
contract killer is an unnecessary addition 
to the recent nose job that organized 
has been setting in all our media. I 
wish ло God that America would get ofl 
her death fascination with organized vio- 
ad start looking at life. A man like 
who doesn't care whether he lives 
s, is not courageous. He'sa coward. 
Thomas Dodge 
Tulsa, Oklahoma 


ed profile of a 


“Jocy” has taken you in. 1 am an ex- 
cop. former teamster aud gunsmith, 1 can 
tell you. Joey's story stinks. Joey claims 
he's worked for the Mob, yet writer Fisher 
calls him ancer. The Syndicate 
never uses outsiders for hit work. If 

new face is needed for a job, the 
brought in from an ourofaown. famil 
Why? Because independents like Jocy 
Jack Dragna, a 
ia mobster. hired Joey 
ma never hired outsiders 


free 


blab. He also writes uh 
Southern Califor 
for a hit. Dı 
for jobs. 


Joseph K. Brain 
Columbus, Ohio 


Thanks to Killer, Americins сап stop 
worrying about murder. Now we know 
that the fellow pulling the trigger is only 
doing his job. Maybe Fisher and "Joey 


Only The Ritz is The Ritz. 
Only VO. isVO. 


“There is only one Ritz..." Ernest 
Hemingway once remarked." And that is 
the Paris Ritz” And so indeed, the Paris 
Ritz has reigned, since 1898, as the Queen 
Mother ofall the worlds great hotels 

"Through its entrance on the magnificent 
Place Vendome, have 
passed Kings and 
Queens, courtiers and 
diplomats, artists and 
movie stars—they have 
all come, again and 
again, seeking the same 
F simple elixirs. Serenity. 
| Privacy. Ambiance. 

Anda standard of be 

service unequalled anywhere on earth. 

fj Beginning with Escoffier, the Ritz has 
employed only five chefs de cuisine in 

Й more than seventy years. Its chief 

sommelier has watched over his wine 

cellars for three generations. Waiters, 

trained in the art of table watching, appear 

magically to refill wine glasses or light 

cigars with foot-long matches 

And through the years, only The Ritz is 
The Ritz. A quiet, timeless island of Old 
World grace and civility. A one-of-a-kind 
creation. 

Like The Ritz, Seagram's У.О. Canadian 
is also a one-of-a-kind creation; another 
quiet reminder of Old World grace and 
civility. It too stands alone, since 1857, 
asa whisky uncompromising in 
quality, with a tradition of crafts- 
manship that has made it The First | 
Canadian insmoothness.The f 
First Canadian in lightness. 
And The First Canadian 
in popularity throughout 
the world. a 

Only The іо | и 
TheRitz.Only VO. 2 
is V.O. Alll the others 
come after. 


CCINADIAN WHISKY —A ELEND OF SELECTED WHISKIES. 6 YEARS OLD. 86.8 PROOF. SEACRAM DISTILLERS 00, КУС. 


PLAYBOY 


4 


сап collaborate on ап informative column 
that would advise readers how to do away 
with bosses, bitchy wives, public ofhcials 
and magazine editors. 

Henry J. Waleczko 

San Fr isco, Californi: 


Th: г your excellent report on 
“Joey.” Ever since riavwoy rejected an 
тисе I submitted. Гуе felt unmanly. 
Now I ha 38 revolver and I'm in thc 
process of setting up several of your 
editors. Before reading about Joey, 1 had 
no idea how to get away with murder. 
Now, thanks to you. Ivice of 
an expert. 1 am awaiting the book version 
of Joey's reflections for more helpful 
hints. Once I have established that I can 
kill Hugh Hefner with impunity, | hope 
to charge ten times Joey's price. Thanks 
again for showing me that there is a career 
offers pride in individual achieve- 

awesome sense of power and all 
the money 1 could ever want. It's unfortu- 
nate that you must be my first v 
this is nothing person 
business. I promise you won't 
hit you. 


meni 


ims, but 
Business is 
10w what 


ТАХ WRITE-UP 
I very much enjoyed Who's Doing 


What with Your Money (PLAYROY, 
April). your feature on some of the 
swange ways the Feds blow our hard- 


ts humorous 
ticle did much to 


earned dollars, Aside [rom 
value, T believe the 
help open readers’ eyes 
Stanley с 
Hunt 


nt Hatfield 
ton, West V 


As а social worker, I particularly 
liked your tax feature, especially si 
now know that my $2500 paid for only 
day of Nixon's hot line—or for seven 
yards of House of Representatives carpet. 
On the other hand, that same $ 
support a foster child in Califor 
four and a 


half years. h's too bad that 
none of us has any choice in where our 
taxes go. 

Robert Gardner 
LaQuints forn 


Who's Doing What with Your Mone 
told of a Navy experiment concerned with 
the use of Frisbees to carry Hares over bat- 
tdefields at a cost of $375,000 to taxpayers. 
Perhaps the genius behind the program is 
also responsible for the “Be Special—Fly 
Navy" Frisbees I spotted. recently in a 
Navy reau 


ıralee Smith 
Millington, Tennessee 


According to Who's Doing What with 
Your Money, “the typical rravnoy reader 
pays very close to $2500 cach year in Fed- 
eral income taxes.” 1 find it dificult to 


reconcile this information 


with your 
юну “What Sort of Man Reads 
PLAYBOY" ad. The typical single tax- 


payer who pays an annual 52500 in Fed- 
eral income taxes earns less than $12.000 
per y taxable income and, thus, is 


hardly the type to live in the manner de- 


scribed in your ads—unless. of course, he 
avoids taxes by resorting to tax shelters. 
Harry C. Amel 

Cleveland, Ohio 

Our figures were based on a median in- 


come of $13,000 a year, which is what 
the average vLavuoy reader earns. After 
ordinary deductions, this produces a 
Federal lax bite of about $2509. State and 
Social Security taxes add morc, bul these 
weren't included, since the Government 
doesn't have the power lo spend them 
Jrivolousl. 


SKIN SHOW 
Skin's Art, the April short story by М 
chael Rogers, was pure art itself. The 
tale had even greater meaning for me be- 
cause 1 could envision Elliott Gould and 
Goldie Hawn in the lead roles. 
William б. Kelle 
Morgantown, West Virginia 


MATCHLESS MATCH 

Congratulations to Marshall Bı ап 
for his excellent humor picce on chess, 
The Celebrated Ponce-Kmitch Match and 
Other Chess Classics (pLavaoy, April). To 
write so cleverly about a serious subject 
speaks for Brickman's ability. 

Richard Kenny, President 

Jtah Chess Association. 
Salt Lake City, Urh 


Many thanks for your excellent chess 
spool, and for bringing me up to date on 

ivities of the multitalented Mar- 
man. Your Playbill failed to 
before launching his success- 


mention th 
ful career as TV writer producer, Brick- 


шап wa 
player 
than а pen takes noii 
iting—he's that good! 
Michael Н. Auerbach 
Longmeadow. Massachusetts 
Brickman still plucks around occasion- 
ally. In fact, his banjo work showed up 
most recently on Warner Bros? pop hit 
“Dueling Banjos,” from the sound track 
of the film “Deliverance.” 


ng-banjo 
|a banjo 
way from his 


oich fivestr 
s better wit 


The Celebrated Ponce-Kmitch Match 
is certainly a creditable effort to bring to 
light the abilities of such giants of the 
chess world. But while Ponce was give 
the credit long due him, I feel Brickman 
failed to recognize Agon Kmitch as the 
great master he was. Kmitch was 


inator of the move 4. 


orig- 
KO. removing 
the king from the playing board and suc- 
cessfully preventing his capture. Kimitch 
also well known for his participation 


in the shortest game of all time. While 


playing a youngster in the 1953 Omsk In- 
vitational Tournament, Kmitch, pl 
black, countered white's daring 1... P-K3 


with his own brilliant but risky 1... P- 
K3. White immediately offered a draw 
and Kmitch readily accepted. realizing 
he couldn't possibly defend such a poor 
position, 

Raymond S. Thompson 

South Bound Brook, New Jersey 


In one of the diagrams accompanying 
The Celebrated Ponce-Kmitch Match, the 
k 1 queen are reversed on th 


r 
es and the board is upside down. 1 
if the depicted arrange 
result of poor research or il someone w 
just trying to be funny. 
Gordon W. Gribble 
Hanover, New Hampsh 
Chuckle intended, Gribble. Check. 


VIEWS OF TENNESSEE 

1 was very deeply touched by your April 
nerview with Tennessee Williams. Is 
1 that his genius appears overshadowed 
only by his self-doubt, 


Your interview with Will 
explicitly to w 
dilemm: 
viously 


ns points 
seems to be his personal 
He can be taken neither se- 
nor seriously enough. Norm: 
Mailer wrote recently that were he to 
be given m he, too, 
might write like Williams. Not without 
the swamp. he wouldn't. And only Ten- 
пемесе knows its terrain. 


nos, 


Your disgust 
out that Williams is a faggot was enough 
to make me go into the bathroom and 
puke. 


Tim 
Ww 


ckstein 
mego, Kansas 


ding your interview, I'd be 
pressed to say which is more dram 
Williams’ plays or Williams’ life. Sa 
Augustine wrote. “The heart of a child 
resembles soft wax receiving every impres- 
1." And it's clear that the playwright's 
Ihood heart was deeply ctched—with 
pain and disappointment. 

Marie T. C: 
Key West, Flo 


id; 


1 feel honored to live as a contemporary 
of Willi ‚ and your interv whetted. 
my appetite for more of his writing. 
Ed Herrin 
Long Beach, Calilornia. 
Look jor a new Williams short story in 
ап upcoming issue of PLAYWOY. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 


/RKISH 5 DOMESTIC 
BLEND 
That Cigarette Smoking ls Dangerous toYour Health. S 


25 mo. "tar; 16 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report FEB.73. 


PLAYBOY 


16 


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PLAYBOY 


AFTER HOURS 


he little old ladies on the Ark: 
Apiary Board couldn't underst 
why one of their publicity gadgets—a pin- 
on lapel button with a picture of a smil 
ing bumblebee—was in such demand at 
the State Beekeepers’ Se 
Besides the bumblebee, the button bears 
this syrupy invitatic 
EAT YOUR HONEY. 


ety convent 


EALTH— 


ENJOY 1 


The Inest in hard-sell techniques, а 
cording to The Wall Street Journal, has 
put into use by the АН Steel Pipe & 
Гире Company of St, Louis. It sends pros- 
peas an atache When the case is 
opened, an 18-inch robot stands up inside 
and delivers a seven-minute sales pitch 


һе 


case. 


You've come a long way. baby: Ques- 


tioned about America’s unwilling 
send women into space, astronaut James 
A. Lovell, Jr. (quoted in th 
cisco Chronicle), was unusually candid in 
reply. “We've never sent any women into 
space,” he said, "because we haven't ha 
good reason io. We fully envision, how- 
ever, that in the near future we will fly 
women into space and them the 
same way we use them on earth—lor the 
same purpose.” 


nes to 


San Fran- 


use 


Burghars stole 120.000 Belgian francs 
(worth 53000) from the Brussels office of 
the Caterpillar ‘Tractor Company. They 
didn’t take the $10,000 in U, S. currency 
that was also in the olfice because 
they revealed alter being apprehend- 
cd—"We had heard over the radio that 
dollars aren't worth much anymore.” 


Tell it like itis: More than the ordinary 
mimber of viewers probably tuned in 
to KTLA-TV to watch Ray Mitland and 
ton in a 1948 movie whose 
10 the TV-listings section 
of the Long Beach, California, Inde pend- 
ent, Press-Telegiam, was Big Cock 


Those who are concerned about At- 


eral Elliot Richardson's super 


torney € 


visory role in the Watergate investigation 


will be reassured by a memo he issued to 
his Defense Department staff, detailing 
how he wanted his letters prepared for 
signature: “Use the comp 
"Sincerely on all letters except those ad- 
dressed to the 
case, use “Faithfully yours." 


mentary close 
President, In the hauer 


» t0 sce to be- 


lieve. As the headline in the Commercial 


and Financial Chronicle put it: “GERMAN 
FIRM TO MAKE DICK DUPLICATORS. 

CHARGE. PROBED,” 
read the headline of the local-news section 
of the Milwaukee Sentinel, and readers of 
the opening paragraph knew why. “An 
investigation was ordered. Friday, alter 
an 18-year-old who is charged with first- 
degree murder testified in circuit court 
that he had been eaten by a deputy sheriff 
in the county jail 


WILL HE 


In an article praising 
rated Papsmear clinic in Belfast, Maine, 
the local Republican Journal described 
the novel laboratory procedure in fine de- 

The test is quick (five minutes) and 
nless, and it makes it possible to detect 
icer with satin, styled with high 
crown neckline trimmed with Venice lace, 
circular skirt with detachable train 
trimmed with lace and lace-capped fitted 
bishop sleeves." 


newly inaugu 


e c 


The International Joint Commission, 
a u.s. 
powered to straighten out disputes along 
led the world’s longest 


anadian group that’s broadly em- 


what used to be с 
unpatrolled border, recently surveyed air 
pollution in eastern Michigan and adja 
cent Ontario. The commission's diplo- 
matic conclusion was that the bad smells 
noticeable in. Michigan come from Can- 
ada. while those in Canada come from 
Michigan 


The forces of law and order took a 
giant step forward when a Texas 1 
troduced a bill that would require 


zisla 


tor i 


criminals to give their intended victims 
24 hows’ notice, either in writ 
orally, telling the time, place and nature 
of the crime to be committed. No word 


yet from the crime lobby. 


An article in the Salem, Oregon, Capi 
tal Journal, debating the pros and cons of 
legalizing condom-vending machines in 
the state. was headlined: “ARE THEY THE 
COMING THING FOR OREGON?” 


There'll always be an England: In a let 
ter to the editor in the London Observer, 
а housewife expressed her satisfaction 
that British censors had cut the sodomy 
1 


gene fram Jat Tango in Paris h 
butter the price it is today,” she wrote, “I 
think it is disgusting that it should be put 
to such use. Why could not the so-called 
“permissive” director have used margarine: 
И us housewives can't tell the difference, 
Im that Maria Schneider 
cither!” Right on, sister. 


sure can't, 


Local self-government triumphs again 
"he town fathers in West Bloomfield, 
New York, decided the time had come to 
open two old safes at the town hall, No. 
body 
smith was called. in. 


had the combinations, so а lock- 
The first safe was 
found to contain nothing but ancient 
town records. The second sale yielded 
only a tin box, which contained the com- 
bination to the first safe. 


The most unbelievable headline of this 
ny month comes to us from the West 
Chester, Pennsylvania, Daily Local New 
MUMAN SEXUALITY SEF TO CONCLUÐ: 
rucesbay,” We breathed a sigh of relief 
when we read the accompanying. story, 
announcing the last of a series of lectures. 


or 


Because it's precisely the antithesis of 
our owr 
1 
rural old people. We thought, for an in- 
stant, that Grit might be changing its 


onc of our favorite publications 


аз always been Gril, a weekly tabloid for 


image when we spied a headline reading 
“ELUM TOPS IN BALLING.” But, true to form, 
the accompanying item told the story of a 


19 


PLAYBOY 


small-town boys club Jlorado whose 
members had constructed а 12-foot pop- 
corn ball, the world’s largest. For the rec 
ord, it weighed 1335 pounds. 

In Batavia, New York. the new urc 
gist is Dr. We 


Calling the Lackland Air Force Base 
honor guard to order recently was 19-year 
old Airman Nancy Morrison, Accord 
to а write-up in The Waco News-Trit- 
une, Nancy earned the job "by being 
а crack member of the elite sevenaman 
squad.” 


Our truth-in-business trophy goes to the 
firm that inserted the following advertise- 
ment in the classified section of World 
magazine: "IL you bought our course. 
“How to Fly Solo in Six Easy Lessons; we 
pologize for any inconvenience caused 
by our failure to include the last chapter. 
titled 'How to Land Your Plane Salely." 
: d address and we 
t chapter posthaste. 
also honored.” 


Requests by est 
We're sure that every 
man in Bradford. Vermont, tui 
for what was advertised in thc 
pelier Times-Argus as 
beaver supper—tor n 
ver eaters welcome.” 


red-blooded 
ned out 
lont- 


Dick Shearer's 
all b 


п only! 


slaw Sodo ol Clevel 
the local Polish Army Veterans post for 
$50,000. According 10 The Cleveland 
Press, Sodo's complaint charges that while 
he was attending а social function at 
post, the manager accidentally shor him 
—four times. 


dike, 


For opera lovers and opera hates 
we reprint herewith the “English” synop- 
sis of Carmen, as it appeared in the р 
gram for a recent performance in Genoa, 
Italy. Doubters should leave the audito- 
rium: we have seen it with our own eyes. 


“Act 1. Carmen is а cigar-makeress 
fra bago factory who loves with Don 
Jose of the mounting guard. Garmen takes 


a flower from her corsets and lances it to 
Don Jose (Duet: "Falk me of my moth 
cr) There is а noise inside the tal 
factory and the revolting cigarmakeresses 
burst into the stage, Carmen is arrested 
and Don Jose is ordered to mou 
guard her but Carmen subduces h 
he lets her escape. 

“Act 2. The Tavern. Carmen, 
quito, Mercedes, Zuniga, Moral 
men's aria (The sisurums аге tinkling’). 
Enter Escamillio, a balls-fighter. Enter two 
smuglers (Duet: ‘We have in mind a busi- 
ness) but Carmen refuses to penetrate 
because Don Jose has liberated her from 
prison. He just now arrives ( 
here who comes?) but hear are the bu- 
ules singing his retreat. Don Jose will 
c and dr ord. Called by 


‘Slop, 


his s 


armen shrieks the two smuglers interfere 
with her but Don Jose is bound to dessert, 
he will follow into them (final chorus: 
"Opening sky wandering life’) 

‘Act 3. А roky landscape, the smuglers 
Carmen sees her death in cards 
nd Don Jose makes a date with Carmen 
for the next balls fi 
Act 4. A place in Seville. Procession 
ls-fighters, the roaring of the balls is 
d in the arena. Escamillio enters 


All hail the balls of a Toreador’). Enter 
Don Jose (Aria: ‘I do not threaten, I be- 
sooch you) but Carmen repels h 
to join with Escamillio now ch 
the crowd. Don Jose stabbs her (Aria: 
‘Oh rupti pture, you may arrest me, 
1 did ЕШ her) he sings ‘Oh my beautiful 


Carmen. my subductive Carmen." " 


ART 
The International Museum of Erotic 
Art in San Francisco was supposed to 


open officially for the first time at five 
P.M. one day a few months ago, but, like 
many others interested in erotic behavior, 
PLAYBOY'S correspondent arrived early to 
atch the Drs. Kronhausen, Phyllis and 
. “directly from Sweden and 
k,” get ready for the mass of ses 
al supplicants directly from Sausalito 
and North Beach. Housed in a distin- 
guished downtown building at Powell 
and Bush, the LM. of E.A. is the out- 
cropping of shoppi i 
in which the Kronhausens lugged thei 


collection of 1500 all-time erotic master- 
pieces across fronti 
beneath the si 


customs, 
iling Irish eyes of shore 
lot of shopping bz 

Trini Lopez and Sol Hurok were 
booked for the vernissage and Shirley 
ic was billed as the official hostess. 
e was the usual artopening bubbly, 


but the cookies were made in the shape of 
what the Drs. Kronhausen colorfully 
а baker, 


d in vain before they found 
h the necessary talents. Even then. 
the good offices of the Genesis Church and 
ecumenical Center, the National Sex 
Forum and various intei ional writers, 
scholars and collectors—a veritable con- 
glomerate of erotomanes—succeeded only 
producing crumbly 
cookies 

About 6000 people received invitations 
to the private preview. As of presstime, 
the police, stunned by the impressive 
auspices, and by all the marvels from 
Chin: Japan and Sweden— 
ancient positions, medieval acrobatics, 
contemporary surrealism—had. not yet 
made the requisite test bust. "Hey, Drs. 


brown 


Kronhausen!” shrilled one lady. "Who's 
guarding this stuli? 

“It iss cafe,” said someone amid the 
crowd. 


"Remember the Vati 
warned. 
ha-ha-h 


ап!” the lady 
“You only need one nut, 


hoff TV camera,” mournfully in- 
toned a closed-circuit Dr. Kronhaus 
"There are four floors of art—including 
executive, religious and tax-exempt offices 
and а men's room—and nothing is lor 
sale. All is for education and ecumenism. 
Well some reproductions may be sold 
and there will be lectures and such. 
maybe a film or two, but all will be guided 
by the purpose of the Genesis Church. 
The crowd at the opening was even 
more awed than the police by the display. 
It included sculpture (example: а baby 
t phallus to keep the 
irl, fron ng out). 
ancient. educational 
aphs (enlarged and dis 


baby. pi 
scrolls (your qua 
sexplay). photog 


koto players made koto sounds to go with 
the many calm exaggerations of Japanese 
erotic art on disp 
with sitar, calling itself One, made music 
to go with the miscellancous Arab, Israeli, 
Swiss, English and Slavic sexy master- 
pieces; in the crush at the opening, it was 
hard to hear il they were really there. But 
а large number of invited bubblegum 
freaks chewed vigorously, making little 
exploding noises, no doubt to accompany 
the examples of pop att. 

Shirley MacLaine, a personal friend of 
the Doctors K., finally did appear: excel- 
lent legs, dazzling smile, crinkly cyes, 
good-natured expression, She stood next 
to the sashimi bar and discussed erotic 
art from the East. Miss MacLaine was 
а active in the МеСоу 
campaign: this time she was backing 
winner. 


for President 


BOOKS 


bout 
of 


This is а bad time for writing 
Viet We have the 
peace i 
may prove more elusive than even the 
pessimists could have believed. And last 
year there were two big studies of the w: 
aces Fit Gerald's Five in the Lake, 
hich won a National Book Award, and 
The Best and the Brightest, by David Hal- 
berstam, a number-one best seller for sev- 
© 


al weeks. But there will probably always 


be something left unsaid about Vietnam; 
an understanding as imperfect as ours was 


of that war can always profit from another 
book. And both FitzGerald and Halber- 
stam talked about the big issues and the 
big men; but for all they explain, reading 
their books won't tell you what it was like 
to be there. 

Free Fire Zone will. It's a collection of 
short stories by Viet vets published by 
First Casualty Press, the iati 


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Stop to listen, see, feel. 

Drink it all in. 

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OEVEN-UP,^* UP," THE UNCOLAY AND “UN?” ARE TRADEMARKS IDENTIFYING THE PRODUCT OF THE SEVEN-UP COMPANY, 


PLAYBOY 


22 


behind Winning Hearts and Minds, 
other collection—this one of poems by 
Viet vets. Not all the stories in Free Fire 
Zone are polished specimens of the form; 
not even à majority are. But that doesn't 
seem to matter. In fact, it enhances the 


book. To read it is to know, 
pletely, who it 


dinty-tricks 


intelli- 

4 funds, 

йз mis- 

ns. It is written by a former 
coumterintelligence officer (using the 
pseudonym Trowbridge) who 


knows and tells: 


bout corruption, tor- 
ture and the arrogance that had us fight- 
ing to save a people we never understood 
and destroying them in the process. 

If 1 Die in а Combot Zone (Delacorte), by 
Tim O'Brien, is one infantryman's story. 
O'Brien spent his time in Vietnam walk- 
ag the Batangan Peninsula, site of both 
the My Lai massacre and the first Ame 
can combat operation of the war. Нем 
there after they had both become history 

king the sume trails, being am- 
bushed, seeing friends blown away. (Step 
Lightly, the chapter on the horror of 
mines, first appeared in PLaynoy, in 
July 1970.) But the book is more than a 
finely tuned, almost laconic account. of 
soldiers at work—though that would be 
enough. O'Brien takes us back to his 
middle Ameri childhood in Mid- 


west, through his carly misgivings about 
" college student, his induc- 
his quier rebellion against the 


Army during basic training and his near 
desertion before being shipped to Viet- 


nam. He does it withou 


I-pity or 


moral superiority, and finally he goes, 
because that is what he was brought up 


to do. An admi 
rable mar 

Our last recommend: 
(Simon & Schust 


way 


ble book by an 


On is West Point 
by K. Brace 
Robert Bowie Johnson, Jr, who 
conducted the Playboy Interview with 
Colonel Anthony Herbert (July 1972). 
Not precisely a Vietnam book, it never- 
theless deals dirccdy with that institu 
ion wherein the 1 y mentality is 
shaped and succored. It is West Point that 
gave the war its military 1 
consequently, its tactics: 
search-and-destyoy missions, B- 
Westmoreland had been superintendent 
demy. And belore Major General 
Samuel Koster was discred 
members of his division did at M 
held the post. Gallows 


Lai, he 
y and Johnson set 
not by ac 

ll of West Point's history 
evitable. Their scholarship 
reh are impressive and the w 
ing carries along nicely what could have 
been a dillicult history. 


God knows, there will be more Vietnam 
books. Some better than these, no doubt; 
certainly many worse. The stream of print. 
may one day scem as 
unbearable as the war 

The Block Prince (Viking), Iris Murdoch's 
15th novel, is her undoubted masterpiece. 
It combines headlong, dramatic, often 
g emotion with brilliant char- 
profound grasp of what 
ry lives хо difficult to 
us books, the scene 
gant London: The 
ll from the middle 


iatrists, outright nuts and 
r assorted lovers, wives, ex-wives a 
he story is 
long a series of 
misinderstandings and 
purposes. Yet what in her other books 
was ofien diffuse and ornamental, close 
to the artifices of genteel fiction, here 
becomes. electric and shocking. Bradley 
Pearson, an uptight, unfulfilled writer 
who is just about to hole up in the coun- 
uy to write the book he has nurtured so 
carefully for close to 30 years, fills i 
love with the very young daughter of h 
closest friend and artistic rival, Arnold 
Balin, a 1 ng novelist who finds it 
easy to do wh: i 
out of “artisti " Thus begins a 
fable for our times that has cutting ob- 
servations to make about everything Irom 
art to sex and emotional disaster. The 
black prince of the title is a combination 
of Hamlet—that mysterious testimony to 
cat writer's erotic ego—and Eros him- 
f. the d 


psurd mishaps, 
lign cross 


k god who rules and, so fre- 
es our lives in ways 

predict, 
much less avoid. Murdoch gives us en- 
counters and confron 1 evok 
those astounding scenes in Dostoi 


where all the chief characters sudde 
swarm onto the stage, nei 


senses jangling, at h 
yet somehow manage to express all th; 
the impossible on demands of 
them. Murdoch, or her alter cgo. Pcarson, 
who tells the story, knows that 
love, truth and felicity exist soi 
they appear in our difficult, battered lives 
s seldom more th cllection, a pass- 
ing gleam, which often shows itself in 

i g light. Visions fade, but 
the intolerable comedy of every 
is always there to irritate, confuse and 
sadden us. A funny, tragic, magnificent 
book. 


pitch, and 


It’s high noon on Sex Street and out 
comes Albert Ellis—hell-bent on gunning 
down such bestseller hotshots 
David Reuben, Robert Chartham. 
(Joan Garrity) and “M” (Joan Garrity's 
brother John). In The Sensuous Person (Lyle 
Stuart), Ellis blazes away at the authors of 


Everything You Always Wanted to Know 
About Sex, The Sensuous Couple, The 
Sensuous Woman and The Sensuous Man 
and he's a damn. good marksman, He 
pumps more holes in Reuben than i 
the others. After showing how illogically 
the doctor handles oral sex, Ellis writes, 
her Reuben is using false evidence to 
‘prove’ а biased theory—namely, that 
penilevaginal intercourse is far beuer. 
really, than any other form of sex rel: 
tions. Or he is very confused and con- 
Hicted. Or he hardly knows what the fuck 
sex is all about." El 
charging her only with 
He attacks "M" for using—and misinter- 
preting—the work of other writers with- 
out credit. And he rips into Chartham for 
failing to take individual differences suf- 
ficiently into account. in effect establish- 
ing a right and а wrong way to have sex. 
Unfortunately, Ellis. though а knowl- 
edgeable sexologist. happens to have lit 
Ue literary taste or talent; he's the kind of 
writer who believes "Horseshit!" 
good way to express angry indignation 
dressing himself to a woman wh 
rain" her lover to prolong inter- 
course, he writes: “But if he doesn't, he 
doesn't He sull has ten flexible (and 
rigid] fingers, two luscious lips, a mois 
nd pliable tongue and a wicked left 
elbow and big right toc!) Many read- 
ers will be bored by Ellis’ repetitiveness. 
repelled by his crudeness and made skep- 
tical by his proselytizing. This is regretta- 
ble, because men or women secking 
clarification of their sexual nature could 
do worse than veal The Sensuous Person. 
Saddest of all is the fact that the book will 
ever reach the millions who could use 
it most—those who uncritically accept 
everything they read in the best sellers. 
Sleeping Beouty (Knopf) is the 19th 
entry in Ros Macdonald's justly ac 
claimed Lew Archer mystery series, w 
began in 1949 with The Moving Target 
Iv is, as people have been saying with the 
ppearance of each new Archer work 
“one of the best yet." Not quite the best 
That is still The Chill. vintage 1961. But 
every bit as good as The Under 
Man of wo ye and a good bit bet- 
ter than 19695 The Goodbye Look. 
which won front-page treatment. їп The 
New York Times Book Review, appar 
nly more on the grounds that Mac 
donald's time had come than that 
particular Archer ranked above the others 
Macdonald seems to be going through his 
naturakcatastrophe period. The Under 
ground Man was built around the Los 
Angeles forest fires of a few years back 
Now, living as Macdonald does in Sam 
ara, it's natural for the social histori 
» of contemporary California to use an 
offshore oil spill as the framing event of 
логу. The Sleeping Beauty is Laurel 
Lennox Russo, troubled daugliter of the 


itying lov 


is a 


онна 


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‘av. per cigarette, FTC Report Feb. 73. 


PLAYBOY 


IF YOU CAN 
USE ANY OF THESE 
TOOLS... 


...you could build а whole new future... 


and build 
yourself 

а Bell & Howell 
solid state 
color TV while 
you're at it! 


If you're already handy with a set of 
tools, here's a way to pick up a pretty 
thorough knowledge of electronics: build 
yourself a solid state color TV as part 
of a complete leam-at-home program 
from Bell & Howell Schools. 

This important project gives you valu- 
able "hands on" experience with solid 
state circuitry-the kind of practical ex- 
perience you'll need to build a success- 
ful career. It's a vital part of your total 
electronics educalion. 

Once you've completed your program, 
you could be ready to build a new career 
—or start a business of your own—in 
home entertainment electronics. 


Fix stereo systems . . . FM-AM radios . . . 
phonographs... tape recorders 

With your new skills, you can build and 
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FM-AM radios . . . phonographs . . . open 
reel tape recorders and cassette or car- 
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you build up by following this brand-new 
program are more than enough to service 
almost any type of home entertainment 
electronic device. 


A complete at-home learning program 
in home entertainment electronics 
Don't confuse this program with an ordi 
nary hobby kit. It's much more than that. 
It's a complete at-home learning program 
prepared by skilled instructors at Bell & 
Howell Schoals. 

It doesn't matter if you've never had 
any training in electronics before. No- 
body's going to start throwing "diodes" 
and "capacitors" at you right off. You 
Start with the basics. You take it one step 
ata time. You walk before you run. And 
you'll be amazed at how quickly you 
Start to feel comfortable with things that 
seemed complicated at the beginning. 


Attend special “help sessions” 

it you like 

In case you should run into a sticky prob- 
lem or {wo—one that you can't handle on 
your own—come in and see us. We've 
scheduled help sessions every few Satur- 
days at the Bell & Howell Schools and in 
many other cities throughout the U.S. and 
Canada. Drop by. Meet an expert instruc- 
tor in person. Talk over any rough spots 
with him—and with other students. You'll 
enjoy the chance to “talk shop.” 


Master the most up-to-date 
solid state circuitry 

Solid state is here to stay. Not just color 
TV but almost every type of electronic 
device will eventually move farther and 
farther in the direction of total solid state 
circuitry. Get to know the most advanced 
“trouble-shooting” techniques for these 
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"Why you should know electronics 
No matter where you look, the amazing 


technology of electronics is becoming a 
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More and more automotive parts and di- 
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Mary large manufacturing plants use 
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to exciting new career opportunities for 
the man with thorough training in elec- 
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the man who does not have electronic 
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many industries. 


Why you should get your training from 
Bell & Howell Schools 

Skilled instructors at Bell & Howell 
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their knowledge, experience 

and teaching ability — plan 

each program with the utmost 

care and attention. Each year, 

they spend about $200,000.00 im- 
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and keeping them in step 
developments in electronics. 
Thousands of people have used 
their Bell & Howell Schools training 
as the foundation for new careers and 
businesses of their own in electronics 


You build and keep the exclusive 

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To make sure you get practical 
experience with instruments used 

dally by professionals, you build and keep 
a Design Console. an Oscilloscope and a 
Transistorized Meter (see details at right). 
These are the three instruments you'll 
work with constantly—both during your 
program and thereafter. 


CONSIDER THESE ADVANTAGES: 


Help Sessions We've scheduled “help 
sessions" every few Saturdays at the 
Bell & Howell Schools and in many other 
cities throughout the U.S. and Canada. 
Top instructors give you expert guidance 
and you meet other students, too. 

Resident Study After you complete 
your program, you can transfer to any of 
the resident schools for more advanced 
study, if you wish. 

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ance When you complete your course, 
we help you locate a position in the field 
of Electrorics that fits your background 
and interests. This unique service is 
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sured Student Loan Program. Check the 
box for details. 


Detach postage-paid 
reply card and 

mail today for free 
information 


25-inch 
picture 
(measured 
diagonally) 


= Bell & Howell Solid State Color TV. 
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in self-service 


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9. 


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If card has been removed, write: 


Ап Electiorics Home Study Schoo! 
DEVRY INSTITUTE OF TECHNOLOGY 


4141 Belmont, Chicago, Инпо 60641 


BELL & HOWELL SCHOOLS 


348R 


25 


PLAYBOY 


26 


Lennox family, which owns the offshore 
oil company responsible for the spill. 
Laurel, who for most of her 50 years has 
been "sleeping" under a heavy sheet of 
emotional disturbance, takes personally 

1 oil-covered sea bird—and 
there is a phone call 
£ 5100.000 


appe: 
and a man's voice demand 
som lor her The Lennox family 
thinks, or at any rate says, that some ccol- 
ogy nut has taken her. Laurel's estranged 
husband. who has been 
sleeping his own childhood nightmare 
long past childhood, knows only that he 
wants Laurel back and hires Archer to 
find her. In unraveling the case, Archer 
resonates with his usual empathy (no un- 
feeling. brawny operative he) and picks 
thorny thicket of ide 
Archer's world. the pres. 
is determined by 
nt past. The writing offers ma 
the by-now-expected terse, тош 
word pictures and metaphors— Her 
appeared to be watching me out of the 
darkness like the ghost ol à woman who 
had already died. Or the ghost of a 
When we asked not long ago whe 
next Archer would deal with the Sa 
dreas Fault, Ма т ald replied, “No, one 
primal fault” A dead-on accurate com- 
ment about his own work, lor, no matter 
what the externals, Macdonald's main 
subject is always Juman catastrophes: No 
other mystery writer probes so deeply 
10 the convoluted sources of violence. 


Tom Russo. 


and echoes the 
ny of 
nder 


ent 


The current college generation is off 
junk and on booze: off trashing and into 
studying: off sit-ins, si-downs, marches 
and speeches and into career. planning, 
job hunting and hustling for grad school 
Apathy has replaced antipathy toward the 
big. bad system. Even campus barbershops 

e doing a better business. For today's 
student family, Kirkpatrick Sales exhaus- 
tive history of the Students [or a Den 
cratic Society—-sps (Random House)— 
t as а chronicle of the 
da war it was, from the 
h aded beg 
teu 


organiza 


years 


views, ollice memos. position p: 
arch. documents, speeches, leners а 
lootnores by the yard—in meticulous but 
engrossing detail. Dividing the period into 
four phases (Reorganization, Relorm, Re- 
sistance, Revolution) that total more than 
700 pages. he traces SDS from its demo- 
хине Ma 


thro 
projects and its rivalry with the 
€ Marxists of Progressive Labor 
amd its eflorts to accommodate the Black 
Panthers, all the way to its final lunatic 
ender то the Weatherneim bomb 
throwers. Now and then, there is pause 
for laughter. The 1968 SDS convention 
a workshop on sabot 
Bl and Redes 


ET 


de- 
ad agents 


Iratured 
signed to Lure 


imo casy identification; the strategy 
worked, Ata later convention, a macho 
Panther discomfted his SDS hows by 
extolling “pussy power.” explaining 
“Superman was a punk because he never 
even tried to fuck Lois Lane.” Sale makes 
no effort to disguise his ideological bias: 
He believes that liberalism is “sham and 
shabbiness,” that SDS at its best was noble, 
id uncommonly bril 
eive Labor was laugl 
init when it wasn't absurdly Maoist 
hermen were both fu- 
y readers, especially 
kable gilt lor polit- 
ical survival ought to be instractive ic 
Sale but isn't), will reject his sympathies 
for confrontation politics and "violence 
against property . . . connected with а 
ated or complicit institution.” Putri 
the slant aside, the rest 
xceptionally good history 


courageous 
that Prog; 
St 


us 


David Wi: 


. whose previous contribu. 
ny to the American publics under- 
standing of what is secretly done in its 
ne have included The Invisible Gov 


ernment 


and The Espionage Establish- 
ment, has now provided the most useful 
single guide, so far, to The Politics of Ly- 

1g: Government Deception, Secrecy and Power 


nedy'sto Nixon's, this carefully researched. 
book gets to the root of а fundamental 
Ame isthe people's 
mistrust of their Government, Among the 
ny examples of Government chicanery 
rious СТА operations (including the 
nneling of taxpayers’ funds by the 
CIA through L T, T. and other compa- 
nies in ап attempt to delent Allende's 
1970 bid for the presidency of Chile). 
Also included are behind-thescenes reve- 


involvement in 
part the “secrecy” 


the 


Vietnam. Wise te 
dlassification system and examines 
myriad pressures that all Adm 
—Nixon's being the most cgregious— 
lave put on the press: in particular, the 
ongoing war against CBS reporters. In 
many ways, Wise's book dovetails with 
Daniel Ellsberg's accounts of how secret 
Government power oper 
Wise ranges farther than Ellsberg. No 
matt nt, he shows, the 
country’s foreign policy is run in Large 
part by itist cadre that | 
enjoyed special access t0 classified inlor 
mation in Government files. a privilege 
ilable to the press or other citizens.” 
nable report on a cri 


tes. except that 


o ds Pr 


an el 


unity 
Ay 


1 subject. 


They were all gamblers 
no rules, placing their bets debonaitly or 
in the sweat of fear.” So runs the prolog 
to Irwin Sluw^s Evening in Byzantium (Del: 
corte), opus 19. novel seven in his literary 
corpus. ^ They" are the movie people who 


flock to the Cannes festival, 
deals or spinning their wheels, choosing 
1 changing parmers—personal and/or 
professional—in their annual May mat- 
ig dance, the Cannes-Can. We open with 
а doseup of Jesse Graig. mildly hung 
over. who remains oncamera throughout 
At 48, he’s а has-been. Since he "took а 
h” with his last two licks, he is no 
longer “bankable.” Its through his know 
ng eyes that we sce the menagerie of 
showbiz types who people the screeni: 
rooms and banquet rooms, the casi 
па cabanas, and generally Litter 
Riviera littoral. W 
rly through his encounters (in and out 
ol bed) with Gail McKinnon, а young 
sure, sexy journalist. but mostly through 
subjective Mashbacks, cannily intercut 
with the day-to-day, night to-night doings. 
‘These concem his simultaneous efforts to 
make a deal on a screenplay he’s written 
ion ymously) and to sort out his hugely 
complex. personal lile, now. further com- 
plicated by his hois for Gail and the 
sudden arrival of his college«lropout 
daughter. Via the former, we sce the inner 
workings of today's film industry, whercin 
the promoter. packager has replaced the 
mighty mogul and the latest hot director 
vore clout than any мат. Via the 
. we get a 3-0 picture of a sensitive, 
talented, decent mi 0 struggling to retain 
his integrity and almost going under. In 
lesser hands, all this could have been just 
cheap Son of the Last Tycoon, but 
Shaw, whose mastery ol his craft is no 
secret to PLAVHoY readers, gives it an ac 
cent of actuality and a moving feel for 


making their 


the 


the inhuman condition of точ of the 
people in this Byzantine. bus 
Harvest Home (Knopf), Thomas Tryon's 


new novel. is а worthy successor 10 his 
best selling The Other. Relying for its con 
siderable suspense on a plot that skillfully 
blends eeriness with mounting horror, 
the novel reads like a gothic dramatiza- 
tion of a chapter from Frazer's Golden 


Bough. Jaded with New York and in 
search of the “stable values” of 
life, Ned Constantine, a painter, takes his 


o seule 


wife and small daught 
1 Coombe, an out-ol-the-way 
land village where the Фое 
—who confess th Cornisl 
names like Worthy Pettinger and Tamar 
Penrose and who include a garrulous ped 
Чет. a prophesying idiot child and other 
quaint souls—mold their 1 the sca- 
son's rhytluns. Portentous hints of evil. cli 
Ned toa 
ol some m 


villagers 


ancestry in 


est 


scrcaming skull, spu 
investigation 
vious local deaths. He discovers that thc 
villagers are more down to earth than 
he'd V ed lor: they not only cele- 
brate the corn but worship it, and their 
folksy festivals are bur the out 
oa full-blown fertility cult in whose serv 
ice frenzied m s perform u 
able rites, Though the characterization 


ме 


speak 


ОТНЕ NATIONAL BREWING CO. OF | 


^, MD. ALSO PHOENIX-MIAMI-DETROIT 


7 į 
M NATIONAL 


* 


pe Y NATIONAL 


is wha at = seek 


PLAYBOY 


28 


and wi re rather thin, Harvest 
Home is ghoulish fun and is not 
easily put down before an ending that 
proves neat, surprising and satislactorily 
horrip 


ting 


Allan Н. Mankoff, who spent five y 
searching and writing Mankof's Lusty 
Europe (Viking), claims to have cased 3128 
randy neighborhoods and establishments 
п 17 European countries and 51 cities. 
We're nor abour to doubt it. Between 
the covers of Lisiy Europe. you'll find 
Pandora's box of what must surely be 
ту kinky pastime available on the Con- 
tinent. No sione. maner 
s left unturned, (“There is a woman 
who walks Les Halles with a 
in a bag. Honest. She offers exhibitions. 
About 50E7) And where le, no 
ldress or phone number is lelt 
unrecorded. Bordellos, gay bars, lovers? 
hotels, SM emporiums and playhouses, 
sex dubs, nudie shows, animal acts, swap 
scenes, massage parlors, orgies, drugs, 
offbeat museums, sex ma- 
. You name it, 
There's ev 
graph on the lastknown wher 
of Napoleon's penis, (Answer: Christie's 
Auction House in London recently ol- 
fered it for sale and then mysteriously 
м 
the fact that some w 
ready bid a whopping 
Also noteworthy: The Adventures of Charlie. 
Bates (Capra Press, Santa Barbara), by 
James Houston. is a strange and Funny 
collection of vehicular stories about the 
motorized One of them appeared 
PLavnoy and another in Oui. 


су 
how slimy 


dachshund 


ithdrew the inch-long object, despite 


Чо collector had al- 
13,250.) 


first i 


DINING-DRINKING 


Funk fanci 


s, rejoice! If you've been 
New York restaurant 
hy 
ng is decorated 


case lumber and the ceil 
fish nets, and where the bar 
a canopy of Hondaamotorcycle с a 
collection of clectrified beer signs and a 
pristine row of stillspinnable red-vinyl- 
and-chrome bar stools, then the Inea (399 
West 12th Street) is your place. But don't 
o just for the funk: go for the food, too, 
because it's terrific, Just a whill away Irom 
the Mounted Police stable in western 
Greenwich Village and almost under the 
West Side Highway, the Inca is a lormer 
waterfront bar that has survived the clos- 
ing of the piers by becoming one of Man- 
hattan's “inest restaurants. “We get a 
mixed salad here," says owner Bi 
Gottlieb, "from rich uptown kids to show- 
biz types to motorcycle gangs sitting right 
next. to tables filled with elderly Jewis 
ladies. Even John and Yoko came in the 
other evening, but they left right away 


has 


Б 


because we were too crowded." The 
Inca’s chef а young Thai named Tu, 
whose mother sends him the East Indian 
y powder he uses in the pork and 
cken dishes on the restaurant's interna 
menu. The star of the limited ap 
petizer list is seviche—a Peruvian-sivle 
raw flounder fillet marinated and gar 
nished with chopped tomatoes. parsley, 
chili peppers. onion and pimientos. Hom- 
mos—a Middle Eastern delicacy of chick- 
peis ground into а раме with garlic. 
juice and parsley. then eaten with 
ly recommended. 
Entree specialties include Chicken Divan 
sparagus covered with boucd wl 
chicken and baked with chee 


d 


m 


m 
а casserole) and a delicious Daube Prov- 


encale de Mine. Molière that consists of 
cubes of beef cooked je and a 
seasoning of garlic. onion and—sur prise 
—orange peel. With cach entree comcs a 
fresh salad of romaine lettuce, Ch 
cabbage, escarole and spinach. The house 
dressing presents a delicious mystery until 
Gottlieb explains that it's “our fingers of 
lemon juice in an empty rose bottle, 
three espresso spoons of Lawry salt, exe 
espresso spoons of monosodium glu 
mate, two ounces of dry sherry. nine 
shakes of Angostura and some good corn 
ail." Desserts at the Inca are fairly Him. 
ited. but the Interesting Ice Creams listed 
include cinnamon chocolate and Dutch 
apple. The ingredients of Inc's Foi 
у ly, but most often 
consist of orange cake with a chocolate- 
fudge icing. The house wine list is short 
but includes plenty of three to four: 
dollar reds. whites and rosés. One red 
the Spanish Marques de Riscal, is а par- 
ticularly good buy: its as robust and 
earthy as the Inca's atmosphere. Sangria 
and beer are also available. Gott 
lieves in neither reservations (“Just come 
and wait in line with John and Yoko") 
nor credit cards, Worry not, however. for 
the wait, if there is one, is usually short 
and the prices are stupelyi 
(The most expe 
Steak, is 54.97 
Gro LA. 


jeb be- 


"s hours are from 
a week, 


st, there's an 
old-fashioned “Hello, Central” phone ас 
cach table in Ma Bell's, the first restaurant 
ever in Shubert Alley, the fimous theatré 
cal thoroughfare off West 45th Street in 
Manhatan. Every phone works: call you 
broker or mistress and there's no charge 
—provided he or she can be reached with- 
in the 212 code. Even during d 
‚ a Broadway atmosphere clings to the 
Alley, and at night, intermission crowds 
veing the tep ge drinks served in 
arby theaters сап belly up to the res- 

nts 80 оон bar. And there are little, 
semiprivate, stained-glass dining rooms— 
similar to the ones called chambres sepa- 
rées in naughty Belle Epoque establish- 


ments—where Wall Street plungers and 
cals can entertain the soubrettes of the 
present day. (Waiters are summoned by 
green light above each door.) The only 
Haws in this otherwise delightful turn-of 
the-century atmosphere are huge framed 
photos showing famous persons on the 
phone: the captions under cach are best 
described as Ad-Agency.Clever. (Nixon's 
reads, “Hello, Information? Where the 
hell is everybody?) As lor the food at Ma 
Bell's, it’s surprisingly varied. For appe 
tizers, try either the onion soup spiked 
with calvados or a moist and flaky quiche 
Lorra rnished with parsley. The 
main courses include a seafood pie with 
shrimp, scallops and a goodly portion of 
b meat, first sautéed in sherry and then 
baked in Newburg sauce. Steaks of a 
sorted sizes are also featured and accom- 
panied by a piquant sauce that’s supposed 
to be а secret, (Discriminating tongues 
might discern the presence of Worcester 
shire sauce, Colman's dry mustard and 
butter.) The scampi are flambéed in the 
ubiquitous sherry, this time in consort 
with fresh garlic and lemon juice. M 
also highlights a daily special, 
h could be fillet of sole in lemon but- 
ter and capers, chicken соно» bleu, br 
cheue of beef marinated in wi 
glic and ore; 
star of the sm, 
late freak's dre 


10. or seafood crepes. The 
ll dessert choco: 
am come irue—"chocolate 
chocolate cake," а devil'sfood layer cake 
h masse Ма Bells w are 
limited 1o California burgun id 
Chablis served en flacon. Somehow they 
m to fit the casyy nbience of 
the place. Credit cards: "You name it 
we take it,” says Horst Semper, the genial 
Austrian manager of Ма Bell's who, 
s apo. just missed being a Vienna 
Boys Choir soprano by a schnitzel, Ma 
Bell's is open trom 11:30 aar. to 
theater,” which, considering the 
able state of the art in New York, could 
be next Thinscay. Closed Sundays. 


nu is i 


nes 


5 й 


ус: 


MOVIES 


It looks as if Healy's spaghetti Westerns 
may soon be ridden out of town by the 
hottest thing in filmdom since the inven- 
tion of the fistfighiz action-packed Kung 
Fu movies from Hong Kong. Rece 
опе of these [o mein Easterns, featuring 
plenty of Chinese-style martial апау 
proved to be Rome's sleeper hit of the 
year, The same thing has been happe: 
throughout Europe and the Middle East, 
and now it appears the U S. is about to 
succumb to the golden boxoffice Пота 

Adually, these films—produced 
Chinese communities around the world 
—have been playing fo the Sun 
Sing, the Pagoda, the Fu Kuo and other 
theaters in such cities as San Franci: 
Los Angeles, New York and Boston. But 
Jately, in addition to the Chinese families 


m 


. free. 
_Stick Schick 
injector razor 


when you buy specially marked packs of Schick Super Chromium blades 


PLAYBOY 


30 


munching happily on the airy pastries 
popcorn machine, their 
1 dotted with the faces 
of blacks drawn by the excitement of the 
hand-to-hand combat and long-haired 
whites hooked on Orientali. 

Kung Fu plots seldom vary. There's al- 
ways a good guy who's called upon to de- 
safety and honor of his family or 
acherous legions of bad 
est lies in just how he 
in long-drawn-our, often bcauri- 
fully choreographed fights. The typical 
могу builds to а climactic conlrontation 
in which dozens of combatants on both 
sides are dispatched with style and grace 
in а seemingly endless variety of w 
And the good guy is often a good gi: 
most half of these films feature heroines 
every bit as expert with their fists as their 
male counterparts. 

These succesors to the old grade-B 
thrillers prove that Hollywood is alive 
md well п Hong Kong. 
That city by the bay is now the second 
most active production cemer in the 
world (India, astoundingly, is first) 
With hundreds of contract. players and 
thousands of stall technicians, a Hong 
Kong studio such as the Shaw Brothers’ is 
the Oriental reincarnation of the Warner 
Bros. lot ol the . In баст, Jack 
Warner in his heyday had nothing on 
movie mogul Run Run Shaw, with his 
iancy mansions and his three Rolls- 


id 


a touch of irony in the fact that 
s, now a shadow of its former sell, 
was the company that introduced Orien- 
tal boxing to American audiences with 
Kung Fu. its ollbeat Western TV se 
Though the show's star, David С 


appetites for the real thing. Warner Bros 
was abo the first major studio to give 
Shaw's Kung Fu films national distribu- 
tion in this country. The fist entry, £i 
Fingers of Death, has been one of Shaw's 
biggest-grossing productions everywhere 
its played. [ts superb cinematography 
and classic fight scenes add up to а wine 
tion, but the laughable dub- 
g job only draws attention to the film's 
weak acting—traditionally the Kung Fu 
Hicks Achilles’ heel 
Surprisingly good acting saves Fists of 
Fury, another current contender, from 
being a mediocre production. The Ori- 
cat's top star, Bruce Lee (who played 
Kato in the shortlived Green Hornet 
ГУ series). defuy mixes broad comedy 
with deadly serious fisticufls. One glimpse 
of his stylish acting and it’s casy to see 
how his salary has risen in less than a 
year from 510000 a picture to the 
quarter of a million per assignment he 
reportedly commands these days. 
TE you're hungry for more hall au hour 
after viewing one of these adventures, 


5 


take heart, Ever anxious to milk a trend. 


in the wings with its own first Kung Fu 
feature, Enter the Dragon, produced in 
Hong Kong and starring the indomitable 
Mr. Lee. Not to be outdone, the Italians 
also getting into the act with their 
first Chinese coproduction, Karate Devils. 
With all these fists flying, it's only a mat- 
ter of time until we face those inevitable 
hybrid spin-offs: а surfsand-and-sidism 
picture, Digit Goes Hawaiian: а pink- 
belt extravaganza for the rough trade, 
Wrists of Fury; and perhaps even a black- 
exploitation Kung Fu pom epic, Shaft 
Gels the Finger 


From the man who gave you Throat” 
to quote the advertising blurbs—along 
comes The Devil in Miss Jones, abrim with 
evidence that Deep Throats writer- 
director, Gerard Damiano, must be slight- 
ly more than just a hard-core film maker 
who hit the jackpot. Obviously out to cap- 
ture a rather different audience from the 
one-armed voyeurs who hold raincoats in 
their laps no succeeds оп many 
counts. Hisl lady, a former Broad- 
ncer billed as Georgina. Spelvin, 

performance likely to win her a 
sputation as the Sarah Bernhardt ol sex 
ks. Granted that Georgina performs in 
a field not exactly crowded with genuine 
actors, Oscars have been won for scenes no 
bewer than the poignant. unnerving 
opening of Miss Jones. in which 
virginal spinster—not very young 
painfully plain—quietly prepares а bath 
belore cutting her wrists. Thereafter she 
goes straight to hell, or purgatory, where 
the bureaucrat in charge allows her to 
come back for a time to enjoy at least onc 
ol the seven deadly sins. She needs only a 
moment to decide: “If I had my life to 
live over, 1 would live a lile engulfed , 
consumed... . by lust” The lady moi 
than fulfills her promise in a tour de force 
ol erotic indulgence that omits nothing 
—from the standard fuck-and-suck se- 
quences to Lesbianism, anal intercourse 
nd a series of masturbatory interludes 
with bananas, grapes and a live snake. 
The uniqueness of Miss Spelvin's sexual 
frenzy is that she really acts, with consid- 
erable verbalizing of her needs moment 
by moment, plus a curious emotional i 
tensity rooted in situation and character. 
Damiano’s movie may devote more foot- 
than strictly necessary to those phallic 
rituals that are par for the course, yet it 
still ranks as the blue-ribbon best of a 
somewhat disadvantaged bre 


exceptionally w 
and acted—as well as lustily performed 
It takes step toward brid 
gap between serious film m 
mere sex ploitation 


The stranger rides imo town, 
en and rapes а woman (Mari 
in ten minutes or so, after w 


citizens of Lago invite him to stick around 
and confront three vengeful desperadoes 
who are about to descend on them. “ 
don't know if I like this town that much, 
says whisperin’ Clint Eastwood. Doubling 
as star and director of High Plains Drifter, 
from a scenario by Ernest Tidyman (who 
wrote The French Connection), East 
wood does his usual thing with such dry. 
deadpan seriousness he olten seems bi 
on self- parody. As Miss Hill puts it, La 
sorely needs "an honest-to-God man with 
a full set of Baliwise, СІ 
ı fills the bill. He appoints а midget 
as mayor, seduces the horclkceper's wile 
(Verna Bloom), organizes a local militia, 
renames the town Hell and literally 
paints it red. Psyching out the bad guys 
is the name of the game, and Eastwood 
plays with a vengeance, so attentive to 
his own image as man and myth that he 
has himsell riding off, at the climax, 
through a simmering desert mirage—like 
the ghostly rider im Lawrence of Arabia 
Crisply photographed by Bruce Surtees 
at a lake site in the shadow of the Sier- 
ras, Drifter is unbeli 
ning to end, yet e 
y style of a wax 
ontier Town, 


aL more 


cor 


scum's uibute to 


Written and directed by Philip H. Dos- 
sick with more conviction than polish, 
The Р. O. W. is ironically tiled, since its 
hero (eliectively played by Howard Jahre 
young Manhattan attorney who doesn’t 
intend to pursue a movie career) is по for 
mcr prisoner but a middle-class New York 
Jew named How home from 
the war and a у a veterans! hospital 
with his spinal cord permanently dam 
aged. Imprisoned in a wheelchair, Howie 
uies to lind a job and begins to face the 
prospect of a life without sex or marr 
or old friends who can relate to him only 
as the carefree salesman he used to be. 
Secu stricily as a movie, theres a lot 
wrong with The P. О. W. Dossick shot it 
as a hil with d admits to flesh 
ing out the footage with some rather fuzzy 
continuity about a documentary film 
maker midway through а movie about 
adjustment. to civilian status. 
Though intended as a comment on ex 
ploitation by eager young film make: 
the gimmick is ап inadequate cover for 
ne sloppy camcrawoik, microphones 


аг 


1o cà 


n 


Howie's 


g into the picture and all the 
other telltale signs of amateurism, Never 


theless, The Р. О. W. remains cogent and 
lor its insights into the mind of 
Howie as he endures an interview with 
1 fucking asshole” about a telephone 
sales job, calls а girl he used to know or 
tries to relax with friends at picnics 
or parties where his presence tends to 
ass people. At least he thinks it 
Howie's case history provokes 


movin 


c 
embar 
doe: 


PLAYBOY 


32 


reaction precisely because he's so average. 
Whether or not theater owners will rush 
to show The P.O.W., this movie de- 
serves to be seen, 

A band of raggle-aggle Jesus freaks 
singing their hearts out all over New 
York's parks, skyscrapers and neon 
makes Godspell 
during the first ho 
of John-Michael Tebelak’s 
Coxcenarist and director 
members of the or 


hit musi 
wid Green 


and platform heels to spread the 
word of the Lord. Gomposer Stephen 
Schwartz's score has plenty of youth 
exuberance—and the 
said of the company 


ed Bible stories — 
good 5 


the Crucifixion 
And the 


reography с 


clap- 
ihe 
blithest spirits tend to flag alter a while, 
d Godspell wears down its audience 
while the cast is still going strong, Nearly 
two hours is far too long |, 


so frail and essentially formless. This 
showbiz ion occupies a patch 
of terr: somewhere between 


Sesame Street and the Gospel According 
to Lough-In 


A London-based American executive 
who gocs tomeatting only when his wife is 
out of town strikes up an acquaintance 
witha a i 


acous, “Look,” she tells him as 
nudges her coward the nearest bed, 
ould do with some good healthy u 
volved sex with someone who i 
to be a pain in the ass.” He nods: 
“This is your lucky day.” That much 
ced, they spend a week-long holid 
ga, where virtually everything goes 
wrong—ihe ted car has a faulty 
Clutch, their room with a view looks out 
sea of laundry and they soon develop 
symptoms of galloping in ity- 
The conflict deepens in bed and grows 
steadily worse until the illicit couple 
staris trading insults and throwing lamps. 
Which adds up to love. of course, and 
A Touch of Class descr pair of 
reasonably civilized young moderns cope 
with it. If Class sounds like the kind of 
semisophisticated romantic comedy that 
used to be a Hollywood staple, give dac 
credit to co-author and producer-director 
Melvin Frank (whose string of hits dates 
back to the Hope and Crosby Road pic 
tures) for updating the old for 
brittle humor, exuberance, freshness and 
ly measured fillip of New Morality. 
kS casting is a coup in itself, wi 


he 


on 


d 


bes how a 


the errant husband opposite Glenda 
son, an established dramatic heavyweight 
turned flip and fighting trim and showing 
her mettle as а screen comedienne in the 
nd tradition. Touch of Class is a ruc- 
ful, spirited tale that ranks as one of the 
surprises of the movie year. 

jor scandal erupted in Washing- 

this spring when State of Siege, 


new American Film Institute theater 
by A. F.I director George Stevens, Jr, 
who dee appropriate" choice. 

aded organization 
to launch its program with Slate of Siege 
would be incredibly naive in the first 
place. The film treats, in a somewhat 
il, fict ed way. the kidnaping of 
plomats in South America. Yves Mon- 


с names are changed, the circumstances 
of his kidnaping and murder by Тара 
las correspond closely to the 
case of ALD. official Daniel Mitrione, 
Killed in Uruguay in 1970. In a simplistic 
political thriller cut to the pattern of Z 
nd The Confession, it's casy to exploit 
ati-American feeling rettable 
that Costa-Gavras couldn't treat the sub- 


foreign politics without spinning 
sponsible fairy talcs aln 
terrorism, There is no 
revelation that U. 5. diplomats 

n economic advisors have long been 
iving support to righti 
Ji places as Greece, Bra 
d Spain, It may even be true thar the 
scist pigs from local police forces are 
ned and equipped їп Wash 
with electronic torture devices. 
shipped home to suppress their people. 
But nothing in the complex. treacherous 
international power game can be quite so 
simple as Costa-Gavras likes to pretend. 
xcept for Montand, he presents the lace 
of olficialdom as brutal and inhuman, 
Hy all the actors cast as revo 
ary terrorists look as young and 
^d beautiful as flower people 
ght from. Woodstock. He shows us 
scist thugs applying electric needles to a 
nd nipples—in a class for 
torture where supercops use live human 
ih the lessons they've 
ademy in ih 
—but he doesn't let us see ihe gueril 
illing the American. they've 
sioned amd convicted of 
Their prisoner 
етпей, we are left to infer, by fair dem- 
ocratic processes—a majority vote of the 
guerril thcir demand 


while virtua 
luti 
pure 


ned 


caught, 
heinous crime 


con- 


membership whe 


for the release of Uruguayan political 
prisoners isn't met, In short, State of 
Siege is à con job colored by the [uzziest 


d of leftist romantici: It amounts to 


an endorsement of political hijacking, of 
the assassina 


by French п 
and of the slaughter of the Israeli athletes 
ich. АП OK. as long as the guerril 
las are sure their cause is just. Or as lon 
as Costa-Gavras is sure. L 
to his defense might think twice 
work of Costa-Gavras, who keeps using 
Montand's star power to repeat the s 
cessful formula he on in Z. Вазі- 
cally, he has a cast of good guys and bad 
guys (red left to right) as fixed and im- 
mutable as those in amy John Wayne epic, 
d appears to be shopping the globe for 
trouble spots where his sociopol 
conceptions ca 

blance of documentary truth, He bi 
impressive skills as а film 
job: but while you're hi 
bew 


ings 
r to the 


c of the doy 


There's more camp than cant in the pol- 
ities ol Money, Money, Money, 1 ely 
frivolous French comedy [rom writer 
director Claude Lelouch, still best remem- 
bered lor A Man and a Woman. АМ about 
band of archoriminals who exploit po- 
al corruption on nd seale, moti- 
vated only by their f 
Mone 


of 


alls himself Ju 
asked. "Yes 
—Groucho Marxists” is the logical an- 
swer, and also a key to everything that fol- 
lows. When Juarez fails 10 p 

gang kidnaps him and collects 
multaneously from the CLA and several 
other interested р: ght and tor- 
tured by the rebels, they place side bets 
against one another, guessing which of 
them will be first to crack and reveal the 
number of his secret Swiss bank account. 
М the very end, they h ped the 
Pope and are compilin of future 
victims that appears 10 include Nixon. 
and M Money is à mess, 
but and there with 
jon that melt resist- 
ied topical gags. A 


Arc you М 


nee to Le 


r and 


poser Jacques Brel, Charles Denn 


French pop/rock star Johnny Hallyday 
kidnaped celebrity) 


(playing himsell, as 
bound to do someth 
ceeds in a hiliriou 
wh 
man tries to teach his colleagues how to 
pick up a chick, Italian style. 


New York in the year 90 the 
s Tor Soylent Green, which carries the 


Food and w t people 
starve in the street—or wait for their al- 
lotment of Soylent Gree 1 diet 


de from plankton, the ocean-bred 
ms usually eaten by 


For people 
who are not ashame 
of having brains. 


б 
(ши! 


TLE. 


| \ 
Meme 


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33 


PLAYBOY 


** King of the Surf °° 


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


How 
| good 
IL IS = 


Winston tastes good, 
when a cigarette should. 


PACK OR BOX 


© 1973 n з nernotes vomacco со, 
BOX: 20 mg."tar", 1.3 mg. nicotine, PACK: 20 mg “tar”, 14 mg. nicotine, av. per cigarette, FTC Report FEB."73. 35 


PLAYBOY 


36 


IT’S ABOUT TIME 
FOR A STRONG NEW 
MOUTHWASH. 


FRO 


Binaca 


STY MINT FLAVOR 


shoveling them off the street with scoop 
trucks. In this s on horror story, 
directed by Richard Fleischer, the best 
girls are inventoried as part of the 
JiLure in luxury high-rise flats for the 
privileged few. Among the beauties Гот 
rent is Leigh Taylor-Young, whose uphol- 
мегу appears in mint con The 
mechanical pitness of a routine melo: 
drama mars Soylent Green, an arresting 
idea that might haye been improved by 
а more im ive vision of the future. 
something closer to Stanley Kramer's Ол 
the Beach aw little less like mar- 
ket day in Calcutta. Director Fleischer 
doesn't seem quite up to the challe 
despite good square-jawed heroics fro 
Charon Heston—as а моги city di 
lective who would like to. know wha 
Soylent Green is really made of—and 
passable supporting performances by 
Paula Kelly, Joseph Gotten and Chuck 
Connors Green's oddly touching high 
point is à scene between Heston and the 
lae Edward G. Robinson, the veteran 
т in his last sereen role as an old 
icing the America 
way of death in 2022: He is wheeled ii 
a "departure room" and allowed to sec oi 
him ished world of fields, streams, 
wild animals, flocks of birds, surging 
shores and sunsets. And then he dies. 

А clue to the sensibility of producer- 
director Peter Bo h sticks out lil 
a hitchhikers th one sequence 
of Paper Moon, wher al and 
Tatum. O'Neal (Ryan's nine-year-old 
daughter and co-star) face each other over 
а lunchroom table J Mi 
town, Clearly visible throw 
across the street, the 
Dream Theater advertises Will Rogers in 
Steamboat ‘Round the Bend. Ys appro- 
priate that Rogers in absentia more or 
less upstages the actors in Paper Moon. 
since this seems to be what Bogdanovich s 
new movi mov 
open roadsters dios with selec 
tions by the Paul Whiteman orchestra or 
Enric Madriguera, or Dick Powell croon 
mbrances of 
Ws stock in 
de—whether growing up in the Fil 
tics. п The Last Picture Show, or 
recalling the sophisticated screwball 
comedies of Howard Hawks in (What's 
Up, Doc? With Paper Moon, he returns 
10 the Thirties to tell a story reminiscent 
of The Kid with Jackie Coo The set 
ting is Kansas during the Depression, with 
O'Neal playing а happy-go-lucky сон 
dence man who is supposed to deliver an 
orph 10 her aunt in St. Jo, Missouri. 
The child may or may пос be his own 
ille nate 


о 


“I have your jaw 
she keeps telling him. She also has his eye 
for the fast buck, along wi 
aptitude for lying, cheating, smoking, ат 
ranging a jailbreak or get 
am unemployed cooch dancer (played 
broadly but brightly by Madeline Kalın) 


h an uncanny 


ng rid of 


by enlisting the йоогуз black maid to 


frame her in a boudoir tryst with a seedy 
hotel clerk. (P. J. Johnson as the maid is 
а droll caricature, uncomfortably close 
in spirit to Stepin Feichit.) If пога], 
totally unprincipled child can be called 
tharmi um O'Neal makes 


ın performance 
ever lapses into mere cuteness. Her 
ht man pretty well in 
s loosest comedy performance to date, 
c problem here is Bogdanovich 
ik and white again with 
apher Laszlo Kovacs, he 
ut a clever exercise in nos- 
st à background of jerkwater 
country carnivals and prairie 


towns, 
highways. More and more, though, a 


ates the 


Bogd: ı film er 
of be ego tip for а consummate 
movie Бий who knows everyone. else's 
thing forward and backward but has yet 
to discover his own. 


npression 


and at least one movie (Bob & Carol è 
Ted & Alice), but the definitive film on 
the subject may be Here Comes Every Body. 
With discreetly concealed. cameras. and 
crew—some of them nude when occasion 
warranted—Britisher John Whitmore re 
corded а week-long Esalen session under 
the control of Dr. William Sdiutz, resi 
dent of Esalen and author of the book 
from which the movie tikes its title 
mong the group's 14 participants (who 
agreed to the filming) are а WASPish, up- 
tight couple who seem afraid ol cach 
other and of themselves, a sassy fat lady 
who wishes she had been liberated before 
reaching middle age. а homosexual who 
would like to be a Lather without giv 
up guys and one glib joiner who app 
10 be making an avocation of therapy 
Whitmore claims а commitment to film 
experience rather than to film. ап, 
ad Every Body meets his claim. Shed 
p tens or pounding a pillow or 
king their clothes off, the people here 
reveal themselves in depth and m 
their secret anger and Initiation 


portant in a way that skilled actors mi 
envy. Hs 


he next best thing to Esalen 
ell for anyone who has ever Telt 
mingled with curiosity about how еп 


counter groups actually function. 


RECORDINGS 


Now that she’s won an Oscar 
look lor more and more movie v 
for Liza Minnelli, We just hope she 
stray too far from the musical 
fol Minnelli / The Singer (Columbia) 
offers unalterable proof that Miss M. is 
ow at the top of her vocal game. She 
has superb confidence in what she can do. 
abi al with 


which she can work. beautifully: the Al 


we сап 
nores 


does 


aud 


ty to do 


The ultimate courtesy 


On the other hand, when you need to 
be away from your own home or 


When you want to reach someone by 
telephone, it is a welcome courtesy 


to find that your party has a Phone- office, or when you simply want. to 
mate. This allows you to leave your relax without interruptions, give 
name and number, and saves you the yourself the comfort — and your 


trouble of calling back repeatedly. 


callers the courtesy —of having your 
telephone answered for you, 
automatically. 


\ Phone-mate 


$139.50 


For the location of a store near 
you that carries Phone mate, call 
(213) 320-9800. 

Phone-mate, Inc., Torrance, Ca. 90503. 


A party? 
AVE IT AT My place! 


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ager or use the coupon. 


Playboy Clubs Internat 

Moniyn Smith, National Dis 

Playboy Building 

919 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Ilinois 60611 

We're planning our next meeting for some. ——— persons on 
Please send full information un 

«s and prices for (city). 


tor ol Soles-Club Division 


your faci 
NAME. 
COMPANY. 
ADDRESS. 
сү, — SIATE.. e 
Playboy Clubs are located in Atlanta, Baltimore, Boston", Chicago, 
Cincinnati, Denver, Detroit, Great Gorge at McAfee, М... Kanas 
City, Lake Geneva, Wis., London, Los Angeles, Miami, Montreal, 
New Orleans, New York City, Phoenix, St. Louis, San Francisco 


and in lamaica. *In Massachusetts, it's Playboy of Boston, 
пыш um nu: uum зыш GER ee ee шш шш 


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as Playboy's professionals and beautiful Bunnies 


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the Playboy extras, contact your local Club's Catering Man- 


"чл TLOLO 


37 


PLAYBOY 


38 


pps chants are just right for her, If you 
nk Carly Simon did big things with 
You're So Vain, wait till you hear what 
Liza has whipped up. She also docs a 
couple of Mac Davis numbers—I Believe 
in Music and Baby Don't Get Hooked 
on Me—that are supersmash. А sensa- 
tional album. 


A decadent crew from Long Isl 
Blue Oyster Cult, seems out to get Black 
abbath and the Zep and beat them at 
their own game. Tyranny and Mutation (Co- 
lumbia) offers, in fact. more polished 
hysteria than its first highly touted alb 
ducers Sandy Pearlman and Murray 
man tuned the Сину high-energy 
iness to a fine pitch because they 
ed of all these limpoids on the 
d fungoid, all these junkie 
* Well. we all get that feeling 
from time to time. The Culr's brand of 
teenage creep rock is probably the best 
antidote around 


ma 
were “ti 


Although there's really no need to cor 
à couple of albums on hand re- 
the strongest possible terms, 
the genius of the late Johnny Hodges— 
the ultimate alto man, Duke Ellington / 
Johnny Hodges / Blues Summit (Verve) is a 
two-LP reprise of material recorded 
nearly 15 усиз ago, with the Rabbit 
ading the troops into the musical fray. 
Ellington may get top billing on the cov- 
but he divides the piano chores with 
alter ego, the late Billy Strayhorn, in 
ә small-group context. The atmosphere is 
bluesy, which is perfect for Hodges. 

res include such 1 
Ben Webster, Law 
weets" Edison, who teams up 
with Hodges on a rendition of St. Louis 
Blues that wipes out every other version 
Сое for Saxophone (М |), recorded about 
as "Billy Strayhorn & His 
Orchestra” headlined. It’s no orchestra 
but a tight little Ellington unit, for the 
most part (Hodges, Russell Procope, 
Quentin Jackson, "Shorty" Baker), with 
dru ег Oliver Jackson and bassist Al 
Hall brought in from the outside. Again, 
it is Hodges’ limpid horn cutting through 
decade and a hall to say—on the likes 
ol Cue's Blue Now, Gone with the Wind, 
ct al—that, despite the Johnny-come- 


firs 


iterate, 


ates, there was only one Johnny 
Hodges, The MJR recording is available 
for 55.50 from Master Jazz Recordings, 


Box 579, Lenox Hill Station, New York, 
New York 10021. 

Todd Rundpren's new one contains 
11 cuts an minutes of music on one 
disc. А Wizard / A True Stor (В. 
the usual m ade П 


поніс», sweet shrillness, Alice Cooper 
visuals, tape tricks and 
the Todd Rundgren philosophy, 


Just One Victory and, to an extent, in the 


hard-rock Is I1 My Name? and in the re- 
petitive strangeness of Sometimes 1 Don't 
Know What to Feel, all of which are from 
the flip side. The first side is even more 
weird, incoherent, funny and, somehow, 
brilliant. Todd is surely not, as one 
of his titles would have it, Just Another 
Onionhead. 


Alone Together (Milestone), by the 
Hall-Ron Carter Duo, is what intim 
teful ji all about. Recorded “liv 
Jazz Adventures concert in the New 
k Playboy Club, guitarist Hall and 
ter put their heads and hearts 
together to produce superb sounds on 
such evergreens as the title tunc, ГЇЇ Re- 
member April, Softly, as in a Morning 
Sunrise, Prelude to a Kis and Autumn 
Leaves; but their best shot is on Sonny 
Rollins’ soon-to-be-a-standard S1. Thom 
Carter-Hall—put that in your pipe 
smoke it. 


Jim 


nd 


Dr. John, aka Mac Rebennack. 
out to be one of musics great orig 
a point he proved most adequately in 
last year’s Gumbo and now re-establishes 

п more of a pop format with In the Right 
Place (Atco). Produced, arranged and 
1 played by Allen Toussaint, and fea- 
turing the Meters, а nifty backup h 
the album demonstrates john уо 
use a guttural, monochrome vocal style to 
every advantage. Be it a grand, hollering 
vamp tune such as Qualified. w 
boogie р tro by Joh 
ful, sizzling control ol Peace Brother 
Prace—with its interplay of bo 
horns, sax, John's and the 
background girls singing—ihis music 
shows once again that there ain't no sub- 
stitute for skill. Or the New Orleans pop 
tradition, for that matter. 

When you think а 
needed saltwater and shrimp-boat. rock 
for a long time now. Since Zimmerman 
came out of the woods and changed h 
name to Dylan. we've been balladed 
about every other nuance of Amer 
life. Sometimes to tedium. Well, 
we have Jimmy Bulleu of Key West, 
Florida, and a really fine a 
A White Sport Coat and a Pink Crustacean 
(Dunhill). A void has been filled, Not that 
Buffett sings only about barnacles 
tide flats although he does call th 
backup mu he assembled from 
Memphis. and hvile The Coral 
Reefers). There are songs about shop- 
їр. gasstation jobs and waravounded 
And Why Don't We Get Drunk 
ich is the song that should 
ukeboxes all 
these years. Listen closely to They Don't 
Dance Like Carmen No More and Cu- 
ban Crime of Passion for some of the 
best lyrics around. As Tom MeGuane, the 
novelist, says in his liner notes, “What 
Jimmy Bullett knows is that our per 


now 


poet 
and Screw, wi 
have been on roadhouse 


1 history lies at the curious 
hinterland where Hank Will 
Xavier Cugat meet with somewhat less 
mosity than the theoretic 
have us believe.” 


O'Day Recorded Live at the Berlin Jazz 
Festival (BASF/MPS) continues the agi 
less Miss O Day's successful sojourn into 
the Seventies. Backed by a trio, she sets 
the Berliners back on their heels as she 
makes them privy to what has marked 
her as a class ja 
There are Let's Fall in Love, a marvelous 
Soon It's Gonna Rain, 1 Can't Get Started 
and a medley of Yesterday and Yester- 
days, among others, The lady knows 
her way up, down and around a mel 
ody—ja wohl! 


Promotion, thy name is music. For 
months now, we've been hearing about 
the reunion of the original Byrds—Ge 


Clark, Chris Hillman, David Crosby, 
Roger McGuinn and Michael Clarke 
who did make some exsmplary mid- 
Sixties music. After all kinds of delays 
due to mixing problems and the fact that 


nt rcc 
ts for uniformity. we now 
Byrds (Asylum). According to Jean Cl 
Costa, whose hype poster copy i 
the reviewer's package, “Maint 
basic Byrds’ contextual. framewor 
subtly showcasing the individual develop: 
ment of cach member in 
puts [the album] cons above the standard 
remember those days fare.” This is 
merely amiable bullshit, because if you 
didnt know who was playing, you un. 
doubtedly would find the album ple; 
nt but dull. And if you didn’t know 
it was such a "monster" —that is, selling 
so well—you would hardly rush out to 
buy it. One reviewer put it in quite 
other "contextual framework": 
“Byrds mirrors rock's coming of a 
the contrary, we hope it doesn't mirror 
its senescence. 


Paul Williams is one fine songwriter, 
yet it was not always thus. He started out 
actor, then became a comedy writer, 
then did a TV commercial for a bank, 
whence derived the Carpenters’ hit We've 
Only Just Begun; then there were more 
songs, for Three Dog Night and others, 
and now his second album for АКМ. 
life Goes On, which is beautiful. Paul 
sings—in a unique voice and style—with 
excellent backing from the likes of Craig 
1 Sklar, David Spinozza and 
ad has written or collabo 
s but one (That 
There are gentle pop 
ballads (/ Won't Last a Day Without 
You), great upbeat, happy production 
numbers such as tide tune, and 


Russ Kunkel, 
rated оп all the tu 
Lucky Old Sun). 


the 


ed country stuff. We hope Paul 
ith this one: It beats writ- 


THEATER 


In a score of finely wrought plays, pro- 
duced on and olf Broadway and in region- 
al theaters, Lanford Wilson h it i 
а modern idiom about t 
The main character in his new pla 
THE НОТ L BALTIMORE, is a vivacious young, 
prostitute who for 
ing for the time wh on t 
(she can identify them by their whistle) 
The play itself is about a lost era, when 
people could fulfill dreams and when ho- 
tels had all the letters on their marquee. 
(The E in this title has plunged along 
with the Hotel Baltimore itself) The 
characters w pit the lobby of the 
nowseedy Balti re rejects and mi 
s of diverse persuasions, 
a butch health-food nut (Mari Gorman, 
ng the most memorable in a gallery 
of memorable perlormanccs an old 
lady who remembers ghosts, а young ma 
in futile s grandfather. This 
is a wise, funny and wistful play, one that 
dixums you with its modesty and how 
esty. It’s lovingly staged by Marshall W. 
Mason and acted by a la 
most of whom were un 
the play opened. At Circle in the Squ 
159 Bleecker Street. 


The River Niger, Joseph А. Walkers 
about the 


ly. isa deeply felt. 
forcefully presented, overpowering work. 
Walkers hero, Johnny Williams, is a 
house painter and parttime poet (his 
masterwork in progress is called The 
er) who has spent his lile i 
slavish devotion to his family and now 


witnesses the collapse of the dream he h: 
imposed on The son declares th 
he isn't goi nyone’s supernigger. 


The play isn’t about superanybody, but 
about real people. It concerns not only a 
о rebels against his father b 
the div hs of childhood fr 
aw 1 demanding aud noble, 
a mother whose put-ons cannot conce: 
contempt for ch a love for whi 
key. In scene alte 
seething with emotion and humor—W; 
сг people confront one another as they 
seek individ tlefields on which to 
fight for the In а cast of great po- 
tency, the most moving performance is 
gi the quietest role—Roxie Roker 
as the wile, There are por 
wayals by Graham Brown аз а cynical 
black doctor, Frances Foster as the sirdon- 
ic old lady, Les Roberts as the confident 
son and Douglas Turner Ward (who also 
directs) as the proud father of this spirit- 
ed family. At the Brooks Atkinson, 2 
West 47th Street. 
Ba 


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Experience. It shows 


Experience is what separates the men from the boys. Especially in automatic 
exposure cameras. 

After all, it takes a lot of practice to make automation reliable in something 
as small and sophisticated as a fine camera. 

Well, nobody has more experience than Konica. 

The Konica Auto-S rangefinder cameras were introduced more than a 
decade ago. And immediately proved that automation wasn't the exclusive 
province of the novice. 

Then Konica introduced the first automatic-exposure pocket-sized range- 
finder 35, the C-35. And the first automatic-exposure professional single-lens 
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Now anyone can have automatic exposure 35mm photography. The profes- 
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PLAYBOY 


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Same man. Same haircut. 
Some difference. 


Unretouched photos. 


PLAYBOY 


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AX gis! who lives upstairs in my dormi. 
tory used to brush oll every boy who tried 
10 make a pass at her. 1 resolved to greet 
her with absolute indifference and was 
glad to observe that this produced an un- 

ess in her. That is, D was glad uni 
lized that 1 loved her. What can 1 
doz I cannot lace the consequences of 
an unsuccessful approach. — L. M., New 
Haven, Connecticut. 

Nathaniel Bynner, a little-known writ- 
er, described the similar tactics of а 
friend: “N was his habit to seek out sus- 
pecling young girls upon whom he could 
Jorce his inattention. Frequently he was 
hoist with his own disregard." Drop the 
iceberg act and you may salvage the rela- 
tionship, if you can call whai you have 
a relationship. It sounds to us like fear at 
first sight 


The first victims of a dollar crisis seem to 
be American tourists abroad. A fistlul of 
dollars will do you no good when curren- 
or around, сштепсу 
exchanges close for days and banks and 
American Express refuse your money. I'm 
about to leave for Europe. How do 1 pro- 
tect myself. from h?—B. S. Phil- 
adelphia, Pennsylvania. 

Pay now, fly later: Buy foreign-cur- 
rency traveler's checks before you lene. 
Amevican Express offers checks in British 
pounds, Swiss francs and German marks; 
the European-American Bank and Trust 
Company offers them in French francs. 
Also, а major credit card can be a life- 
aver in а flood of floating currencies 
restaurants and hotels receive payment 
in local coin. They will honor individual 
credit whe economists question the cred. 
it of nations. 


For som 1 have never been able 
to buy a perfect brie. I usually have to set 
Че for a cheese that is underripe or, worse, 
one that is too runny and bitterly over 
the hill. How docs опе select a perfect 
brie? М. A., Riverside, Ilinois. 

Saint-Amant, a 170 Century bard of 
good living, celebrated brie as the “gentle 
jam of Bacchus." Another has called il the 
"queen of cheeses.” Selecting a ripe brie 
requires royal tact. A wedge of brie 
should bulge but not run and it should 
haw a uniform, creamy texture. You must 
acquire а [ecl for this texture if you buy 
brie by the wheel, in which, of course, you 
cannot see the bulge. Our resident brie 
freak insists that the right touch is a di 
vine gift, but mortals can obtain satisfac: 
tory resulis with practice 


cies go up or dow 


ММ... is the proper way to introduce 
the woman with whom I spend my 
time? W ied, though we live 
m mces permit, and 


re not m 
ther when circums! 


we do our separate things in education, 
career lentity. [would 
avoid terms like my friend, my lover, 
пег or my roommate, all of w 
est that possessiveness is nine tenths 
of a relationship. Our bond is better than 
that, but 1 am at a loss for words. Has 
the sexual revolution liberated language: 

J- E., West Orange, New Jersey 

Language resists social change; in 
Phase Two jashion it fixes the price of 
love and controls the wages of sin. But 
why bother with words? Good manners 
and common sense require only that you 
introduce a person; you do not have to 
supply a credit report, produce a political 
philosophy nor describe sleeping arrange- 
ments. Introduce her by name and lel 
your relationship describe itself. 


Woariety is more than the spice of lite: it 
is an essential ingredient, My wife and 
1 have explored with pleasure and ex- 
hausted the geometrical positions of 
lovemaking—now we would like to 
periment with other forms of lovemaking. 
pecifically, those that fulfill fantasy 
needs as well as physical needs. We would 
like to try bondage, but there d 
any, intelli 
browsed 
adult Бэл сасу seemed tw be 
oss between Mickey Mouse and the 
is de Sade. What do you suggest? 

G. H., New Orleans, Louisiana. 
Alex Comfort’s “Joy of Sex" has а ve. 
markable chapter on bondage; it should 
be read by anyone who conlemplates an 
erotic caper with a captive audience. How 
ever, if you want to strengthen the пир 
tial knots before you buy the book 
consider the following: Bondage is based 
on the theory that orgasm is a release 
from tension; the greater the tension, the 
greater the release, Old-time moviemakers 
used bondage as a vehicle jor suspense 
Witness the heroine lied. to the tracks 
helplessly awaiting rescue from an oncom- 
ing train, Mosi bedrooms won't accommo: 
date Amtrak, so you'll have to create an 
equivalent. If you ате successful, the те 
sults can be spectacular—one woman re- 
ported that when she was tied to а bed, 
her orgasm hit her with the force of the 
aforementioned train and left her forever 
confused as to what й was she wanted to 
be rescued from. You won't need the ac- 
ceisories shown in the catalogs; most 
homes contain all thal is required. Use 
soft materials—bathrobe cords, stockings, 
leather shoelaces, pieces of clothesline, 
old school tics. Tie your knots well—your 
partner should be able to struggle without 
excaping—but do nol cut off circulation. 
(The “Scout Handbook” is still ihe best 
manual on knot tying, and it does add 
а dimension.) For starters, spread-eagle 
your partner across a pile of pillows. If 


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PLAYBOY 


44 


you do not have a brass bed or а feu 
poster (favorites among bondage aficion: 
dos), run cords under the bed. Secure her 
ankles and wrists, but don’t overlook 
ather sites. A well-placed cord can be as 
ing as an extra pair of hands. Criss- 
cross two cords over her breasts or throw 
a half hitch avound cach thigh. (Comfort 
suggests, as ап alternative, binding your 
partner thumb and toc in addition to 
hand and foot.) Remember that suspense 
and helplessness are the keys; proceed 
slowly and savor your handiwork: Tease 
your partner, stroke and hiss her breasts 
and genitals, then withdraw. Slow genital 
manipulation can be sublime. Arouse her 
to several orgasms before penetration. 
Some words of warning—agree befor 

hand on a distress signal (lo indicate 
discomfort or фат) and untie her as 
soon as you are done. And then it's your 
turn: In a somewhat different context, 
Abraham Lincoln said, “Familiarize your- 
self with the chains of bondage and you 
prepare your own limbs to wear them 


СЕ 


the out 
a friend tells me that these cow 
ruin my records. I have asked at a ster 
shop in the arca. but no опе can give 
me a definite wer. Сап you?—F. R., 
Kokomo. Indiana. 

The plastic wrapper should be removed 
and discarded or placed over the head of 
the elerh in the stereo shop ho ought to 
know better. Research has shown that the 
plastic can shrink, bend the cardboard 
jacket and warp the record. 


ys left the plastic covers on 
lc of my record albums, but now 
in 


1 cooking 
equently п guests for d 
ner. 1 would like to make my own wine 
to serve during these айай», but 1 have 
heard that it nst the law for bache- 
lois to produce alcoholic beverages. Can 
this be true?—A. C., Cicero, Ilinois 

Federal law states that the head of а 
household тау produce for “food value 
and medicinal purposes” up to 200 gal- 
lons of wine a year without paying laxes 
on it. He must file Form 1541 with the 
Bureau of Alcohol, Tobacco and Firearms 
to get this exemption. Most bachelors do 
not qualify as heads of households. Unless 
you have a legal dependent living with 
you, you may not make wine tax-free. The 
law is archaic, discriminatory and the 
best excuse for marriage that we've ever 
encountered. 


МІ, boyfriend has coarse hair all over 
his body. His pubic hair has the texture 
of a scrub brush. When our intercourse 
is prolonged or frequent, it is extremely 
tating to my sensitive skin, We tried. 


cutting the hair, but that doesn’t cure it. 
Can you help us solien the situa- 
tion}—Miss A. G., St. Paul, Minnesota, 


Grandmother's method of softening a 
brush was to boil it for five minutes, but 


never mind. Hair usually is softer after 
it has been washed. He should try soaking 
in a tub of warm water before or during 
intercowse. Shampooing followed by a 
creme vinse or conditioner might also 
help. If these remedies are not practical, 
you might use a soothing lotion or foam. 


ММ. do we use the term best man to 
describe the male friend who stands up 
for the groom in arviage ceremony? 
—A. $., Toledo, Ohio. 

In ancient Scotland, a marriage cere- 
mony was like the plot of a “Mission Im- 
possible” episode: a prospective groom 
simply kidnaped the woman of his 
choice. The venture required courage 
and manpower; therefore, the groom. 
elected the bravest of his friends to ac- 
company him. The closest and most val- 
iunt of the bridegroom's accomplices 
became known as the best man. 


nd I have found that mutual 
masturbation bordering on orgasm is a 
good way to dispel the tension of long 
hours in the саг. Our Guresses do not see 
to interfere with driving and they make 
getting there half the fun, On our last 
trip. my wile suggested that we try fel- 
latio, but 1 was worried that it might be 
ngerous, What do you say+—M. H., 
Bakersfield. California. 

Don't. Fellatio may be the original 
movable feast, but in most states it would 
be а moving violation; more important, 
its dangerous. Offhand you'd think it 
ould be safer than mutual masturba- 
tion; at least one of you could keep both 
hands on the wheel. But a person in the 
midst of orgasm is not exactly the world's 
safest driver, besides which sudden stops 
could prove painful, if not lethal. Unless 
you practice karezza, the erotic discipline 
in which the male postpones orgasm for 
hours, we suggest that уои don’t divert 
yourself while you drive 


For ihe past eight months, 1 have been 
unable to find employment. A friend at 
опе company asked the personnel man- 
ager about my application and learned 
that a credit bureau had a derogatory 
report from a former employer on file. 1 
went to the credithureau chief and de: 
manded to see my file. The man reluc- 
Uy agreed when he learned that my 
employment difficulties had been due to 
a report from his credit bureau. The 
paper he read to me (I never saw or held 
it myself) concerned auto insurance that 
I bought last year. There was no men- 
п of my former job nor, for that mat- 
of the credit cards or loan accounts 
at 1 have maintained for years. How 
1 is going on and what 
ect the situat 
ashville, Tennessee. 

You are protected by the Federal Fair 
Credit Reporting Act. Ask for the name 
and address of any agency that prepares a 


report used as the basis for denying you 
credit, insurance or employment. The 
agency must tell you the nature and sub- 
stance of the information contained in its 
file and, in the case of nccounts from busi- 
nesses, the sources. It does not have to 
show you an actual copy of the file and it 
docs not have to reveal the names of the 
individuals it contacted to oblain infor- 
mation. You can demand that the agency 
reinvestigate if the information it gath- 
ered is incomplete or incorrect; if it can 
not verify its data, it must remove it from 
your file and notify the businesses you 
пате that the information in previous v 
ports was inaccurate and has been di 
leted. In any dispute, you сап add your 
version of the incident to the file and 
have it included in subsequent reports. 
Finally, you can have most adverse in- 
formation dropped from a file afler s 
years. Contact the regional office of the 
Federal Trade Commission to get more- 
detailed information or to cite a violation 
of the Fair Credit Reporting Act. 


At a party not long ago, а drunke 
friend remarked that he felt like the last 
n in а daisy chain. He then tried to de- 
scribe a daisy ch 
command of the ge some- 
l his fourth martini, his cx- 
le little sense. What is a 
daisy chain and why should the last n 
feel anything apart from what his com- 

nions feel? М. R., Portland, Oregon 

A daisy chain is a group sexual activity 
in which cach participant simultaneously 
docs to someone else more or less what 
someone else is doing to him or her. This 
concatenation of erotic contact usually is 
oral and almost always is circular. Techni- 
cally, there should noi be a last man ina 
daisy chain, which is endless, so 10 speak, 
but your friend may have been suffering 
from an inability to make ends mect. 
There is another possible explanation of 
his remark. A daisy chain with an сист 
number of participants (e.g., 696969) can 
be completely heterosexual, while a daisy 
chain with an odd number of participants 
(69696) must be at least partially homo- 
sexual. In such cases, the togetherness of 
the chain must depend on the inclina- 
lions of the extra person. (A daisy chain 
is only as strong as its weakest link.) Con 
Sequently, your friend may have meant 
that he was the only unattached person 
al the party. 


АП reasonable questtony—]rom. fash- 
ion, food and drink, stereo and sports cars 
to dating dilemmas, taste and etiquette 
will be personally answered if the 
writer includes a stamped, self-addressed 
envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy 
Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 N. Michi- 
gan Avenue, Chicago, Minois 60611. The 
most provocative, pertinent queries will 
Le presented on these pages each month. 


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45 


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PLAYBOY 


48 


"Flying a kite off a windswept glacier i in 


New Zealand is no game for kids: 


Imported in bottle from Canada 


IPAM WALKER & SONG LIMITED. 
WLKERILE CAUDA 


‘With 18 feet of sail 
s my wings— 
I,arather jittery 
Й Jef Jobe from 
Seattle—was ready 
to conquer the sky. 
Altitude: 8000 feet 
ı on New Zealand's 
Glacier Dome. Michele helped me into my 
kite harness. And soon I was racing toward 
the edgeof the ice fall. I had descended 
3000 feet in a perfect glide, when an i 
blast rocked the kite. And suddenly, Iwas 
fighting for my life with a deadly downdraft. 


some wild maneuvering and 
miraculous luck, I escaped into smooth air. 
ed, 1 grimly remembered the 


at evening, at The Hermitage Hotel, we 
coasted our adventure with Canadian Club. 
It seems wherever you go, C.C. welcomes you. 
More people appreciate its gentle manners 
and the pleasing way it behaves in 
mixed company. Canadian Club— 
“The Best In The House” in 87 lands. 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


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


GRAVE OFFENSE 


The May Playboy Forum mentions vw. 
instances of people being fined for forn 


cation, This may seem a laughable prac 
tice to you big-city sophisticates, but 
sometimes there's more to these cases than 
ets the eye. For example, 1 know one 
man who was fined for fornication, but 
his real offense was not so much getting 
laid as it was doing it in the town ceme- 
tery. People's sen is were under- 
standably offended, The mortician is the 
only one allowed to bury a stiff ar the 
local graveyard. 

(Name withheld by request) 

Bangor, Maine 


THE DROLL COMPOSITOR 
w York Post published 
jg. in the shocked ton 


papers 
thar 


mers, 
n one of New 
s most posh hotels is offering “more 

." Getting down to the 
porter finally spells out 
offered: “These [extras] 
turbation to fellatio and 


massage parlor 


itty gritty, th 
what is reall 


ning thing about this ho-hum 
story is a detail contributed by the com- 
positor at the end of the second column: 
"continued on page 69." The Post cer- 
tainly has a flair for numerology 

mes O'Malley 


Brooklyn, New York 


KNOTTY PROBLEM 
Thad dated a wo 


belore our lovemaking sessions. 1 toler- 

ed the idea at first, but she began insi 
that instead of going 
her home and play bond 
would always be the slave or prisone 
1 would do my best to tie her up and 


the bedroom. 
I got sick of doing th 
she made 
п essential condition of our 
g and I couldn't take i 
1 don 


any- 
condemn her turn-on, but 
on why anyone should have 
to participate in sex play he doesn't like. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Allentown, Pennsylvania 


LOW-DOWN SEX 

One evening I was talking to som 
women in a bar and the subject of foot f 
tishes came up. One woman said she had 


gone to bed with a man, but had no sexual 
contact with him. She fell asleep, only to 
be awakened later to find him lying on 
top of her and kissing her feet. When he 
realized she was awake, he stopped, and 
both of them pretended nothing had hap- 
pened. 1 wonder how common this is. 

(Name withheld by request) 

Oshkosh, Wisconsin 

Putting a foot in one’s mouth is quite 

common and often results in embarrass- 
ment. However, we can't say how common 
it is as a sexual practice because so many 
people are inhibited about frankly dis 
cussing their sexual inclinations. 


THE SWEDISH PARADISE 

Im an 18-year-old Swedish guy spend 
ing the school in the U.S. I've 

ticed that quite a few Ameri 
len a sexual par 
duty as a Swede to tell the truth. There 
is no doubt that we have very beautiful 
and charming girls in Sweden. but they 
are not willing to go to bed with stran 
gers, as а lot of foreign tourists think. 
girl doesn't waste 
d sex clubs, 
Is expect to 


her time 
which is where the tour 
find her. Sweden is also thought to be a 
sexual paradise because of these clubs 
and the publics al attitude toward 
pornography. But the fact is that people 
are getting tired of the sex cubs and 
porno maga d they're dying out. 
Sweden new problem on the labor 
market—unemployed striptease girls. 

Thomas Hult 

Central Square, New York 


BREAST FANTASIES 

То the woman who wrote that silicone 
implants improved her sex lile (The 
Playboy Forum, February): 1 was married 
to a lovely cook with lovely breasts, But 
you can't eat and suck all your life. Now 
Igo with a beautiful small-breasted wom: 
an who is a sharp person and a great 
lover. 


(Name withheld by request) 
Williams Lake, British Columbia 


SEXUAL DOUBLE LIFE 

When 1 got married, six 
harbored Lesbian tendencies but had 
never been to bed with another woman 
Јом over а year ago, 1 admitted my feel- 
gs to my husband, who is an intelligent, 
sophisticated man. We went together to а 
psychiatrist who advised that 1 should 


years ago, 1 


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upon my desires, 


nce I had been repress- 


an activiti 
© him an excuse to pur- 
sue his own hobby, which is going on long 
hunting trip: 

Now 1 carry on with my present lover 
whenever my husband is out of town. I do 
nor neglect my family. Meals are on the 
table, the house is kept in order, laundry 
is donc. our cars are cared for and all his 


trophy heads are dusted daily. 1 do not 
neglect my husband's sexual needs, either. 
Whenever he’s home and wants sex, he 


gets it. 

1 do suspect that slowly he’s losing his 
les. He has every right to have sex 
other woman who wants him. 
Il he talks about is his lifelong ambi- 


with 
But 
tion to get a polar bear. 


(Name withheld by request) 
New York, New York 


THE SWINGING SET 
The gentleman from Philadelphia who 
demeaned swinging and swingers in the 
February Playboy Forum obviously en- 
countered the wrong people. Му w 
and I have been swinging for ¢ 
ahs and have met m. i 
couples who. like us, are intelligent, 
ulate and have varied interests. Some 
of them have become our good friends. 
another on 


nonswint 


play together, Because of our having truly 
known them, we fecl a special warmth 
for these people that even exceeds our 
affection for friends of long standing, 
(Name withheld by requ 
Larchmont, New York 


st) 


THE INCONSTANT MALE 

Over a year ago, 1 met а man who really 
turned me on and we dated frequently. 
He told me he was married and had chil- 
dren, but that didn't bother me. After 
I gave him a key to my apartment, he 
ted me often and we indulged in sex- 

ivitics of all sorts. He wasn’t the 
first guy I'd gone to bed there were 
lots of others, and even when I was seeing 
still balling other 
guys. Anyhow, T guess my diaphragm let 
me down, because I got pre Since 
I'd been to bed with my married friend 
morc often than with any of the others, I 
told liim about the pregnancy. 

I demanded that he help me out and I 
got my way. He left his wife, came to live 
with me and helped me to arrange for an 
abortion in New York. He borrowed 
money from a friend of his to pay for ev- 
erything. Alter the abortion, he stayed to 
make sure 1 was all right. He kept tell 
me 1 was "good people" and that if things 
were different he would do a lot more for 
me. After 1 recovered from the abortion, 
we resumed sexual relati 

Then he started seeing his wife again. 
We had several talks about this; he told 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


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


FEMALE RAPISTS... 

Two teenage girls, one in New York 
and the other in Atlanta, are apparently 
the fast women in U.S. history to be 
convicted of rape. Both were charged 
with aiding men in the forcible rape of 
other women. In New York, the 19-year- 
old defendant received a six-year prison 
sentence for “acting with the mental cul- 
pability required Jor the commission of 
таре" when she lured two 20-year-old 

omen into a Greenwich Village apart- 
ment, where they were tortured and 
forced to engage in sexual acts; her 29- 
year-old boyfriend and accomplice was 
sentenced to [rom eight to 25 years. The 
Atlanta woman, 17, and her two broth- 
ers—who raped two women while she 
held them at gunpoint—face sentences of 
ир to 8I years for rape, robbery and 
possession of illegal weapons. 


ND MALE PROSTITUTES 
MINNEAPOLIS—Five men who proposi- 
tioned a policewoman posing as a hooker 
have found themselves charged with pros- 
titution under а new city ordinance that 
makes it equally unlawful for either a 
man or a woman “to offer or subiit his or 
her body indiscriminately for sexual inter- 
course" The ordinance was кештеп 
after а municipal court judge ruled the 
original prostitution law, referring оту 
to women, to be sexually discriminatory. 
The new law also specifies that an offer 
о] payment is nol necessary for arrest. 
This led the same judge to remark, “A 
man can now be arrested in a downtown 
bar for trying to hustle a woman." 


THE WISDOM OF BILLY GRAHAM 

During a two-week crusade in South Af- 
rica, evangelist Billy Graham told news- 
men he thought the U.S. should revive 
the death penalty and that “When а per- 
son is found guilty of rape, he should be 
castrated—(hat. would stop him pretty 
quick.” His castration proposal caused an 
uproar in the U.S. and he quickly ve- 
tracted it; “My comment оп таре was an 
offhand, hasty, spontaneous remark ... 
that I regretted almost as soon as 1 said it. 
... 1 unfortunately used a word which, in 
our sex-oriented culture, was emotionally 
charged and did not really clarify my true 
thoughts. . . . It is interesting that the 
thought of castration for some people stirs 
а far more violent reaction than the idea 
of rape itself. Perhaps this is a part of 
our permissive society's sickness.” 

Several weeks earlier, Graham, ad- 
dressing himself to а feminist interviewer's 
question on the unequal male and female 
roles in Christian history, said, “I don't 


think there is any sex in heaven. If people 
only want to go to heaven for sex, they'd 
better have their heaven on earth.” 


SEX-LAW REFORMS 

Ohio and North Dakota have revised 
their state criminal codes and legalized all 
sexual acts engaged in privately by con- 
senting adults. The new laws go into ef- 
fect on Jannary I, 1971, and July 1, 1975, 
respectively. Other states with consenting- 
айий laws ате Colorado, Connecticut, 
are, Hawaii, Jllinois and Oregon 
Pennsylvania similarly revised its code, 
but retained criminal penalties for “de- 
viate sexual intercourse" between unmar- 
ried persons. State representative Martin 
Mullen had opposed legalizing adultery 
and fornication on the grounds that “ev- 
eryone will be going around doing what 
they want" and later tried lo amend the 
law to prohibit all premarital and extra- 
marital sex. “I'm carrying the banner of 
God and 1 represent the people,” said 
Mullen. “Any of you who believe in 
the Ten Commandments should support 
my amendment.” Said Governor Milton 
Shapp, “1 would suggest the legislators be 
given a liedetector test and only those 
who pass the test be allowed to vole on 
the bill” 10 was returned 10 committee 
for burial. 

Elsewher 

* The Florida legislature has been con- 
sidering the repeal of that state's. law 
against “unnatural and lascivious” acts. 
Supporting the repeal, a deputy attorney 
general acknowledged that “My wife and 
1 violate the law constantly.” The Miami 
Beach police chief said that in his commu- 
nity, where the average age is 65, “crimes 
of the bedroom” not high on 
his department's list of law-enforcement 
prioritie 

+ In Trenton, New Jersey, the state su 
preme court upheld the state's sodomy 
law but ruled that it does not apply to 
married couples. 

+ A superior couri judge in San Diego 
found the state's sodomy law unconstitu- 
tional and commented, “It doesn't seem 
to add anything io public safety or 
welfare.” 


were 


X-RATED RADIO 

WASHINGTON, в.с Гле Federal Com- 
munications Commission has opened an 
inquiry into “topless” radio talk shows 
and warned the broadcasting industry to 
get “smut hustlers” off the air or risk Gov- 
ernment action. The programs, during 
which listeners call in to discuss their sex- 
ual attitudes and activities, started on the 
West Coast and have been spreading 
throughout the country, generaling a 


flood of protests to the FCC and the local 
stations that carry them. Ata Congression- 
al heaving, FCC chairman Dean Burch 
explained that the present legal tests for 
obscenity make it difficult to regulate 
program content wilhout exercising what 
would probably be unconstintional cen- 
sorship, but he added that the commission 
might refuse lo renew some radio station's 
license in order to create а test case, The 
FCG has backed up its threat by fining the 
owners of a Chicago suburban radio sta- 
ion, WGLD-FM, $2000 for airing a talk 
show the FCC called “patently offensive 
to community standards [оғ broadcast 
matter." (See letter titled “Topless Radio 
Bust” оп page 52. 


NIXON'S WAR ON SMUT 

WASHINGTON, D. C —President Nixon 
has asked Congress to accept a new and 
strict definition of obscenity as part of 
the Administration's proposed revision of 
the U.S. criminal code, Obscenity would 
come under Federal juvisdictionandwould 
be defined as “explicit representation, or 
detailed written or verbal. description, 
of an act of sexual intercourse,” "vio- 
lence indicating a sado-masochistic sexual 
relationship” and “an explicil, close-up 
representation of a human genital organ" 
unless the material was a minor and 
necessary part of the whole product and 
nol intended to “stimulate prurient in- 
terest.” A number of lawyers, writers and 
film makers have expressed fears that the 
Nivon obscenity formula would cower Jar 
more than hard-core pornography. Ne 
York columnist Pete Hamill wrote. “If 
il becomes law, the First Amendment will 
become a mockery, and this nation's 
artists, particularly those working in film, 
might as well leave the country.” He said 
the proposed. defmition would ban such 
movies as "Last. Tango in Paris," “De- 
liverance" and “Midnight Cowboy,” as 
well as the writings of Norman Mailer, 
John Updike, John O'Hara, James Bald- 
in and probably hundreds of others. 


KLEVELAND КОРЅ 

. omo—Mayor Ralph J. 
Perk has commanded city police not to 
weur swastikas on their uniforms while on 
duty and to remove racial insults written 
on police-station walls. Perk said the 
order was based on citizen complaints 
that some officers were wearing swastika 
T-shirts, belt buckles and tie clips. 


FR SPEECH FOR STUDENTS 
WASHINGTON, n. &—A sharply divided 
Supreme Court has ruled that state uni- 
versity officials cannot prevent the dis- 
semination of offensive ideas nor expel 
a student who circulates them in print. 
By a six to three vote, the Court ordered 
the University of Miscouri to reinstate a 
32-year-old journalism graduate student 


who had distributed on campus an under- 
ground newspaper containing a. political 
cartoon of а policeman raping the Statue 
of Liberty. The caption was “Mother 
fucker acquitted.” The Court held that 
the cartoon not only was constitutionally 
protected speech but that the First. 
Amendment “leaves no room for the op- 
eration of a dual standard іп the ас 
ademic community with respect to the 
content oj speech.” 


POT-POURRI 

BERKELEY, CALIFOKNIA—CiLy police have 
been ordered to give “lowest priority" to 
the enforcement of marijuana laws and to 
obtain permission from the city council be- 
[оте making any pot busts. The new policy 
ds the result of a popular vote on an initi- 
ative proposal, which passed 28,116 to 
18032. Supporters of the initiative raised 
campaign funds partly by voffing off “one 
hilo” at a dollar a ticket. Raffle posters did 
nol specify that the reward was a kilogram 
of marijuana, but а spokesman for the 
Berkeley Marijuana Initiative organiza- 
tion assured reporters that they had cor- 
rectly guessed the nature of the prize, and 
elaborate security measures were taken to 
ensure that the holder of the winning 
ticket could collect his kilo secretly and 
anonymou: 

Elsewhere 

+ In Ann Arbor, Michigan, some 3000 
students and other youths celebrated the 
Second Annual Ann Arbor Hash Festival 
by congregating on the University of 
Michigan campus to smoke marijuana 
and hashish openly. Only two police of- 
ficers attended and no arrests were made. 
Said one of the law enforcers, “There 
isn't a heck of a lot we can do about it.” 

+ In Washington, D. C., a 40-man com- 
mission appointed by Mayor Walter E. 
Washington has recommended that the 
possession and use of marijuana be legal- 
ized, and that its growth, manufacture 
and supply be regulated by the Federal 
Government. 

* The California Medical Association 
declined to take a position on marijuana 
legalization, but criticized “current penal- 
lies for the possession of marijuana for 
personal use [that] have imposed criminal 
status оп many persons who otherwise 
have evidenced no criminal or antisocial 
behavior.” 

+ A research team at Philadelphia's Jef- 
ferson Medical College has warned that 
marijuana smoke has the same cancer-pro- 
ducing potential as tobacco smoke, and. 
that the risk may be magnified by the 
fact that pot users tend to hold the smoke 
in their lungs for as long as possible. 

* The Alabama supreme cout, up- 
holding the conviction of a тап who sold 
pot to ап undercover agent, has ruled that 
marijuana is а “hard narcotic” under the 
state's drug law. 


me he didn't love me and wanted out. He 
left me when his wife was ready to take 
him back, and we parted friends, 

А woman can't rely on а married man's 
daim that his wil him. That is 
just a pitch 10 get a girl into bed. Once 
the fun and novelty of the girlfriend ha 

the wife begins to look good 
e thinks of all the time and cmo- 
vested in the marriage and ba 


tion he 
he goes. 

I'm still single at 
boyfriend who is 24. But this 
playing it a lot cooler. 
me withheld by request) 
1 River, Ma: 


MYTH OF THE ONE-MAN WOMAN 
Women are not biologically monoga- 
mous, nor is ny congruent with 


pacity for sexual 
response. Biologically woman's sex drive 
is probably equal to or greater than the 


male's (nobody knows for sure). Certainly 
sters and Johnson have reported 
women have more sexual stamina: th 
don't need a recovery period after orgasm 
and one orgasm doesn’t usually make 
them feel like turning over and going to 
sleep. Furthermore, women are capable 
of being multiorgasmic. They may not 
get to exercise that capacity, but it exists. 
Finally. few husbands make love to their 
wives more than twice a weck, and rarely 
does the time of penctration exceed five 
minutes, A possible assumption from all 
this: Few women are getting as much s 
ual activity as they are capable of enjoy- 
ing. It might be more reasonable to have 
several lovers than to expect one man to 
satisfy all of one’s needs. 

Why are women afraid to have sev 
partners or to engage in extensiv 
experimentation? A few points: (1) The 
double standard is still with us. An un- 
married woman may be able to have more 
than one partner, but she still isn't allowed 
30. After marriage, her affairs ave con- 
sidered more serious offenses than those 
of her husband. (2) Women do not gain 
the sort of prestige from sexual experi- 
ence that our culture affords to men. 
Most women, getting no apprecia 

ing had sexual experience, be 
inappropriate for them. (3) Women in 
supposedly 
multiple sexual relationships olten | 
that male partners really can't accept а 
Despite liber 
find that th 
tner declines. (4) Most wom- 
е no position to т. Men 
traditionally demand monogamous part- 
ners and defend their own promiscuous 
behavior on the theory that the male is 
naturally polyg; the female 
doesn't want x. Women 
strong model of female s 
uality that entitles them to as much (тес. 
dom as me 
Well, what is culturally 


duced can be 


51 


PLAYBOY 


52 


culture 
nding th 


changed as th 
women are dem 


of what is appropriately п 
So it is inevitable that some women will 
find nonmonogamous sexual styles more 
in keeping with their desires 

Pepper Schwartz 

Assistant Professor of Sociology 
iversity of Washington 
ttle, Washington 


POOR LITTLE RHODE ISLAND 

According to an article in The Provi 
dence Journal, the Pawtucket, Rhode 
nd, school board refused to grant ma- 
ity leaves to unmarried teachers be- 
cause someone might think the board 
pproves of nonmarital sex. One member 
of the board. declared, “Today's society 

just a liule too permissive and I'd hate 
like hell to see people in whose 
we put our children to go this wa 
dded that some 
the conscience. 
“fo 


and pointed out th 
ion is still a crime i 
ordon Carr 
North Providence, Rhode Island 
That last fact is really a shock 10 the 
conscience. ТҮР, 


THERE GOES THE NEIGHBORHOOD 

А member of the Alabama nor's 
mansion advisory board has suggested 
that the governors mansion be relocated 
According to IT ms, the present 
neighborhood. is deteriora 
“I's possible we'll be sitting in a commer- 
cial area and, pardon me, the Negroes are 


in. 


Neighbor 


Gaylon Horton 
wsciloosa, Alal: 


ma 


WOUNDED ACADEMY 
Many people resentfully demand. to 
know how Marlon Brando's turning 
down an Acidemy Award relates to the 
plight of the American Indian, The 
swer is that decades of movies have 
fied the conquest of North Ame 


the white man and lı yed the 
Indian as ап expendable savage. The 
politics in Brando's gesture were at least 


ud intelligent. The 
unconscious and stupid. 


ovie 


D.C. 


TOPLESS-RADIO BUST 
According to The М, 

Dean Burch, Nixon's ma 

Com i 


w York Times, 
the Federal 
on, Паз threat 


ions Commis 


" s featuring calls from 
n who discuss sex on the air. Burch 
dmitted that it's not the FCC's job to be- 
involved. in censorship and he ac 
knowledged that commercial broadcasting 
works best when the Government keeps its 
now out: but then he added 0 few 
broadcasters today are in the process of 


forcing public definition of the fra 
tinction between freedom and lice 

The Times's story continued with 
Burch's condemnation of some broad- 
sters for “the prurient trash that is the 
stock in trade of the sex-orie 


talk show. complete with suggestive, coax- 
ing. pearshaped tones of the 


hustling host” (prose like thit might 
make Spiro Agnew envious). He con- 
cluded with the ominous prediction th: 
“the boundaries of the First Amendment 
may next be tested in the context of the 
right to broadcast garbage—and don't kid 
yourselves, it will be tested 
‘The First Amendment says that "Con- 
gress shall make no law .. . abridging the 
freedom of speech, or of the press... ." 
Apparently the test that Burch threatens 
would be à Government attempt to see 
how far it can push the idiotic contention 
that no Jaw actually means some law. If 
there's any public definition of the differ- 
nce between freedom and license, or be 
tween entertainment and trash, to be 
made, then the public should make it. and 
not some bureaucratic lackey trying to 
with his boss. Though Nixon- 

itarians might wish it 


t turn 
off. Each of us can still act 
censor by merely turning the 
dial or flipping the switch that comes 
part of the standard equipment on every 
radio sald 


William Kyle 
Detroit. Michigan 


PRESIDENT VS. PRESS 

Your April editorial Mr. Nixon and the 
Media was excellent. We nced more 
people who are willing to tell the Adm 
istration to back off and reexamine the 
Constitutio 

Here in Wash 
ture recently 


ield law for re 
porters, even tha lengthy hearing 
provided overwhelming evidence th 
such а law is necessary. АП of us who are 
media professionals were deeply discou 
aged at the lack of foresight and courage 
shown by several legislators who attacked 
the proposed law because they have seen 
their own names in print from time to 
time. 

1 never cease te 


ре azed at the та 


ings of some politicians, and especially ol 
the Nixon Administration when it comes 
to their rel ith the news 


the responsibility of 
the press is not to the Administration nor 
to the Government in general but to the 
people 


Dave Workman, 
Snoqualmie Valley Record 
Snoqualmie, Washington 


may be that a majo 


ty of Americans 
k a reporter need not reveal the name 
of his source, as claimed in the Apr 


special Playboy Forum report. Mr. Nixon 
and the Media. However, il the source of a 
story is not willing to allow his name to 
be used in connection with it. how does 
the reader know the story is truc? Saying 
“My source is confidential” is about as 
meaningful as saying "It came to me in 
a dream," 


William H. Wingo 
Memph 


Perhaps it is ea 
the scandals of the Nixon Adn 
tergate, 1. T. T., suppression of the 
magon papers, Kent State, political 
tinkering with the Public Broadcasting 
System, the generally secretive attitude 
toward the public—when they're taken. 
one at a time. But to consider the accumu 
lation is to become enraged. 
corge D. Shipley 
ha, Nebraska 


Oi 


Iam very upset and disappointed with 
Mr. Nixon and the Media, Cut it out! If 
you are going to turn your magazine into 
an anti-Nixon political-propaganda sheet 
it’s going to get kicked around just like 
The New York Times l The Wash. 
ington Post. Lets stick to pretty girls and 
party jokes. 


mmett Shaw 


‘Tacoma. Wash 


gion 


The quotation from Lenin in Mr 
Nixon and the Media di tes tha 
there's little difference between Nixon's 
and Agnew's attitude toward the press 
and that of the Communist dictator, Ir 
underlines the fact that heads of state 
have more in common with one anothe 
than with the people they rule. 

Louis Solomon 
New York, New York 


mor 


REPORTERS FIGHT BACK 

On behalf of The Reporters 
tee for Freedom of the Press and of mem- 
bers of the working press, we thank the 
Playboy 


commit 


the 
vely devoted to 
dment and the 
frecdom-oLinformation interests of the 
working press. 

Among other projects, the committee 
filed friend-of-the-court briefs in cases 
п which newsmen's rights were threat 
ened, conducted surveys on issues relevant 
to freedom of the press, financed appeals, 
1 circulated and presented petitions. It 
hy а censorship-information. ca 
shes a censorsh 


ion й 


sc organi, 
country that is exclu: 
protecting the First A 


main 
ter. pu 
supplics emerge 


projects demonsuate the hi 
quality ysis and co 
al scholarship. We weleo 
bout serious infringements on th 
lus of th 


е compl 


Think Silva Thins 100’s. They have 
less "tar" than most Kings, 100's, 
menthols, non-filters: 


Menthol too. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined | 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous toYour Health. | 
| 


"According to the latest U.S. Government figures. Filter and Menthol: 15 mg. "Хаг", 1.1 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report Feb. 73. 


OOs 


he THINS 1 


53 


PLAYBOY 


ies; write to 
n Station, 


about the committee’s activi 
Box 807. Benjamin Frank 
Washington, D.C. 20013. 
Jack C. Landau, Trustee 
The Reporters Committee for 
Freedom of the Press 
Washington, D.C. 


PART OF THE PROBLEM 

With his usual gilt for strident click 
Richard Nixon hus declared 
global war on the drug menace." I 
est plan is to create a Drug Enforcement 
Administration as part of the Department 
of Justice, which will consolidate sever: 
re now involved 
The amount of 
spent on Federal efforts to enforce 
reotics laws has increa ‘old 
the past five years, but drug traffic con- 
Gages ө Пош. Wi в amd his 
underlings refuse to adn t by mak- 
ing drugs harder to get, the Government 
does not reduce the number of addicts: it 
simply causes a rise in the price of drugs, 
which makes the traffic still more profit- 
able. The props could be knocked out 
from under this whole sorry site of 
affairs by simply enacting legislation 
ke narcotics available to addicts 
h medical channels. But then, of 
Nixon's Administration would 


course, 
have one less fake problem to distract 
people from its failure to solve real ones. 


Robert Lite 
Washington, D. 


NORML ANSWERS NIXON 
By insisting on maintaining criminal 
penalties for use, possession or sale of 
nt Nixon has ignored 
the findings of every major study and offi- 
cial inquiry onal Com- 
and Drug Abus 
that he appointed. We сап only conclude 
that the President, like many Americans, 
stubbornly clings to myths about the 
Шет weed" and will not permit abun 
dant conuary evidence to alter his pe 
sonal convictions, regardless of the high 
cost to society, and to individuals, of 
continued criminal prohibition. 

We agree with the President on one 
point: Drug abuse in the United States t 
day has reached frightening proportion 
and we must develop effective propi 
to combat it. But we firmly disagree with 
dent's continued reliance on the 
and-punishment approach, Decrim- 
alizing private possession and use of 
marijuana is а sensible and logical first 
step in attacking the real problem of 
drug abuse. 

Acquiring respect and credibility in the 
arca of drug education must be the Gov- 
ernment’s first objective if it expects to 
reach the nation's youth. Harmful drugs 
are readily available, and researchers and 
menters will no doubt 
develop many more in the years to come. 
Since the Thirties, the dangers of mar 
juana have been grossly ех 


fact that young people have discovered 
from firsthand experience. As a result, 
legitimate warnings about heroin, amphet- 
amines, methaqualone and barbiturates 
have been widely ignored as cqually 
groundless. Removing the criminal penal- 
ties for the personal use of marijuana 
would suggest а willingness by our Gov- 
ernment to finally deal realistically with 
na, hence with other drugs as well. 
juana laws is di 
forcement resources away 
areas where they are critically need- 
The American Bar Association has 
ted that there were 226,000 mari 
ией arrests in this country last 
c officials often tell us they now 
че on the commercial trafficker, 


ise. Only seven per- 
cent of the state arrests were for selling, 
while 93 percent were for possession and 
use. Two thirds of those arrested were 
rged with possession of less than one 
ounce. The cost of enforcing the mari- 
juana laws in the state of California 
alone has been estimated to exceed 
5100.000.000 annually. Our society can 
ill afford to burden its police forces with 
the impossible tisk of trying to pursue 
and arrest the 26.000.000 people in the 
United States who have now used mari 
juana. Law enforcement must concen. 
trate on serious crimes against persons 
1 property. 
Prohibition is, 
opposite of 
no controls. The 13-year-old 
juana as easily as che 50-year-old. 
no assurance that it is not adulte 
h harmful drugs or other psychoac 
substance: 

Unfortunately, the President has cho- 
sen to apply the discredited domino theo- 
ry to drugs. and is naively asking. “If we 
change the laws on marijuana, where do 
we draw the line?” This argument is 
ppropriate and illogical. 

Tt has been estimated that 50,000 in 
viduals used marijuana in 1937 when the 
first Federal marijuana law was passed. A 
study prepared for the Just 
ments Bureau of Narcotics 
ous Drugs estimates that by 1976 the 


nd always has been, the 


number of persons who have smoked 
marijuana will reach to 
50.000.000. nearly double what it is to- 


day. It is clear that marijuana smoking is 
firm fact of life and that no conceivable 
forcement program can eradicate 
And it should be clear from long 
experience that an unenforceable 
Taw is usually worse than no law at all 
especially when it aggravates other real 
ad related problems. 

Our drug laws should be based on the 
most accurate information available on 
the actual dangers of a particular drug 
and not on prejudice, fear, emotionalism 
ог moral fervor. Thomas Jellerson in- 
sisted that “Laws and institutions must go 
hand in hand with the progress of the 


n mind." Since we now know that 
ijuana is a relatively harmless drug 
and apparently is less harmful than alco 
hol. tobacco and many other drugs that we 
permit in our overprescribed society, we 
should change our laws to reflect that [act 
We support a policy of discouraging тесте 
ational use of all drugs, but we should no 
longer continue to make criminals out of 
those who choose to ignore our advice. 
Howard S, Becker, Ph.D. 
Walter D. Dennis, M.A., S. T. B. 
John Finlator 
Joel Fort, M.D 
ich Goode, Ph.D. 
Lester Grinspoon, M.D. 
Aryeh Neier 
David E, Smith, M.D. 
R. Keith Stroup 


Dorothy V. Whipple, M.D. 
Norman ii м.р. 
Members, Advisory Board 
Natior 


for 
Marij 
Washington, D.C. 


LONE-STAR LUNACY 

At the age of 20, Robert Alejandro had 
plans for a July wedding and was one year 
away from his college degree. Robe 
record with the Fort Worth police de- 
partment was clean, but apparently he 
was under surveillance as a suspected 
marijuana user, One Friday evening while 
he tertaining eight friends in hi 
home, the police broke down his doo 
searched the house and found about five 
ounces of pot. 

Robert was the only chicano there that 
night. All charges were dropped against 
his guests. who were Anglo-American 
At his trial, Robert's defense was to plead 
guilty to possession of marijuana and to 
beg the jury for forgiveness. He emph 
sized that this was his first and only of- 
fense, After Robert's emotional appeal to 
the jury, they convened to decide their 
verdier. In a few minutes, the jury found 
Robert Alejandro guilty and. sentenced. 
him to 25 years in the state penitentiary 

Jim Bighee, 5 
Texas NORML 
Dallas, Т 


LAW ABUSE 

As a lawyer with firsthand knowledge 
of the absurdity of our current drug 
1 feel that it is highly unfair that Texas is 
so often singled out for using a legal va. 
tionale to obtain irrational results. Mon 
tana has been working diligently in thi 
area of law abuse since January 1908. 
when the Missoula city council р 
inance prohibiting the possession 
for “unlawful purposes.” Although 
ost difficult. for an officer to dete 
mine if a person intends to use glue to 
build au airplane or commit a prohibited 
act, this did not deter the council from 
а crime to solve a problem. 


Also, there are two Montana criminal 
s in the courts here that rival 
thing that ever came out of Te 
first involves а middleaged man who 
Killed horses and had intercourse with the 
carcasses. Instead of psychiatric treat 
ment, this unfortunate man got 40 years 
prison. 
The other case involves a young n 
who is now serving two years in prison for 
the “attempted possession of marijuana,” 
Next well be jailing people for daydream- 
ing about smoki i 
Robert J. Campbell, Cha 
Missoula Chapter of the A 
Civil Li 1 
Missoul 


vies Un 
Montana 


TAKE THE MONEY AND RUN 
The Long Island newspaper Newsday 
reports that а man who accepted $5000 
from a F narcotics agent and took 
a vacation with it has been arrested for 
embezzlement. He told a Newsday re- 
porter that Government agents, believing 
п dealer, pressured 
didn't know anything about junk and 
told them I couldn't help them. Then 
this agent . . . kept pestering me, so I fi- 
ally said, "Ger me 55000 and I can get 
you а taste?” He took the money and 
went to Puerto Rico. Said he: "It was the 
best vacation I ever had.” 
David A. Santogrossi 


Selden, New York 


THE P. О. W. MYTH 
As View 


m veterans and journalists, 
ed by the press and ТҮ cov- 
erage of the release of American prisoners 
. We are especially angered by 
CBS's cancellation ol Sticks and Bones—a 
play about a returning veteran who op- 
poses what the war has done—in fear that 
viewing the play might upset Americans 
whose "lives or attention are at the 
ment emotionally dominated by the 
returning Р. O. Ws." 
This focus on emotion 
sorship of negative reacti 
perpetuate the Nixon Ad 
h that all the P. O. W 
l-Americm heroes, In fact, the majority 
of them are career professionals who vol- 
y bombed schools and hospit 
along with their military targets. Nor 
were they held. as Nixon claimed, under 
condi were “the most barbaric 
..im history." Their treatment арр 
to have been practically luxurios 


ism and cen- 
п has served to 


n-cut, 


com- 
pared with that afforded the military and 


ers of the U. S. Army and 
at. Their living con- 
inly no worse than the 
conditions that their bombs imposed on 
the people of Indochin: 

Thei amy men who no longer fit 
ty because they have seen 
what it is capable of doing to another cul- 
ture. If this truth is "abrasive to the feel- 
ings of mi ms of s" (as CBS 
(continued on page 210) 


political } 
the Saigon 


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FROM NISSAN WITH PRIDE 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: KURT VON N EGUT, J R. 


а candid conversation with the ironic fantasist whose novels—‘cat’s cradle,” 
“slaughterhouse-five,” “breakfast of champions" —have made him a campus cult hero 


By 1962, Kurt Vonnegut, Ji., had been 
writing novels for ten years: three had 
heen published—"Player Piano,” "The 
Sirens of Titan” and "Mother Night"— 
and nobody had ever heard of him. He 
didn't count. “Player Piano” had been 
haphazardly reviewed when it was pub- 
lished in 1952, because it was a first novel; 
and had been ах haphazardly dismissed 
when the reviewers found out that й 
ed a lot like science fiction—which is 


bush. In 1959, “The Sirens of 
Titan” came ош as а paperback original, 
with a screaming space-opera cover and 


didn't get a sin review. Ditto “Mother 
Night.” in 1962, which carried a cover 
Ми implying that it was past of the 
Kiss My Whip” school of writt 
In the H years since, he's written four 
more поте “Сабк Cradle,” "God Bless 
You. Mr. Rosewater, Sla terhouse- 
Five” and “Breakfast of Champions,” just 
published. His books are now reviewed in 
the lead slot of the Sunday Times book 
section: “Slanghierhanse-Fiw” rode the 
best-seller lists for more than three months 
and was nominated for a National Book 
Award; “Breakfast of Champions" was 
grabbed by three book clubs long before it 
ате out; those carly novels that the crit- 
ies wouldn't touch with a stick ате now 
being taught in colleges all over the place; 
а book of original essays about him called 


“I have the conary-bird-in-the-coal-mine 
theory of the aris. The artists сенату 
did that in the case of Vietnam. They 
chirped and keeled over. But it made по 
difference whatsor: 


“The Vonnegut Statement” just ap- 
peared; the number of Ph.D. dissertations 
considering his work is up to six so far, 
and you can practically hear the typewrit- 
ers clacking in graduate schools every- 
here: "The Ambivalent Relationship of 
Zen and Bokononism in ‘Cat's Cradle’: 
An Approach.” And so on. 

Vonnegut counts now. But it’s been a 
long time coming, and the way й hap- 
pened was a series of accidents. The first 
accident was his birth date: Armistice 
Day, а day set aside for the celebration of 
peace. He was born m Indianapolis in 
1922, into a German family with a long ra- 
Hionalist tradition: they were pacifists and 
atheists who loved. America. His grand- 
father had been the frst licensed architect 
to practice in Indiana and his father was 
an architect, too—which probably has 
something to do with how much Von 
negut has thought about the importance 
of homes. He had a sister, who died of 
cancer 15 years ago, and has an older 
brother, «well-respected scientist wha i 
listed directly above his kid brother in 
"Who's Who." 

Vonnegut planned to be a scientist, too, 
but started writing in high school for the 
Shortridge Echo, one of the country's few 
daily high school papers. He went on 
to Comell to study biochemistry—and 
ended up writing a column. for The 


“Thinking doesn't seem to help very 
much, The human brain is i00 his 

powered to have many practical uses in 
this particular universe. Pd like to live 
with alligators, think like an alligator.” 


Cornell Daily Sun. This was the spring of 

1911 and most of his fellow freshmen 

were hungry to get into the war and kill 

Germans. Vonnegut, who was both a paci- 

fist and a German-American, wrote anti 

ar columns that made almost everybody 
ous. 

But Pearl Harbor and the dreary drift 
of the war changed his mind enough that 
he enlisted in a student. officer-training 
corps in 1913, and he was sent la Carn 
Tech to become a mechanical engine 
Bui that didn't work, and not long after- 
ward he was in the Infantry, in Germany, 
fighting Germans. It was the Battle of the 
Bulge. When the Germans blasted his 
squad to picces—leaving Vonnegut to 
stumble and wander for 1. days, alone, 
lost, looking Jor the war—Billy Pilgrim, 
the gentle, time-warped optometrist who 
lives through it all in “Slaughterhouse. 
Five,” was born 

1 war had before seemed preposterous 
to Vonnegut, it just got worse: He was 
captured and eventually shipped alf to 
Dresden, which he has since described as 
Mie first. truly beautiful city he had ever 
seen. H was supposedly a safe place; there 
was nothing in и io bomb but people and 
extraordinary cathedrals. He was dawn in 


ne 


a slaughterhouse when it happened; when 
he came out, the city had melted to the 
ground. And the good guys had done it 


JILL KREMENTZ 


“H strikes me ns gruesome and comical 
that in our culture we have an expecta: 
tion thal а man can always solve his 
problems, This is vo untrue that it makes 
me want to €ry—or laugh.” 


57 


PLAYBOY 


58 


—and then kept quiet about it. He start 
ed thinking about that. 

After the war, Vonnegul 
through several schools and finally landed 
al the University of Chicago, studyi 
thropology. He didn’t gel his degree—the 
faculty committee turned down hic thesis, 
“Fluctuations Between Good and Evil in 
Simple Tales'—but he learned some 
things at school about watching how 
people behave that slill show, sometimes 
hilariously, in his writing. In alot of ways, 
he's still an anthropologist, whether the 
University of Chicago says so or not. 

He married Jane Cox, whom he'd met 
in kindergarten, when he went to Chi- 
cago, and was moonlighting as а reporter 
Jor the City News Bureau to keep them 
both alive. But after the faculty com- 
mittee said his ideas weren't right, he 
left school and wound up as a public- 
relations man for General Electric in 
Schenectady, New York. He was а good 
one, for three years, from 1947 to 1950, 
but it meant hanging around scientists all 
the lime, listening to their bright plans 
for improving the future. He lejt in 1950 
because hisreaction totheircheery talk was 
turning into a bo “Player Piano.” It 
seemed to him that scientisis in those days 
wanted to mechanize everything and take 
care of everybody, and he showed them 
a terrible, funny future in which just that 
had happened: a technological “Brave 
New World” where virtually all work was 
done by machines and everybody but the 
scientists who тап them walked around 
fecling empty and useless. 

By the time “Player Piano” came out, 
Vonnegut һай moved to Gape God and 
taken up freelancing full time. For 
the next few years, he lived mainly by 
writing short stories for such magazines 
as Colliers, Saturday Evening Post and 
Cosmopolitan, His family was getting 
bigger—he had three children and be- 
came legal guardian of his sister's three 
children when she and her husband died 
within a day of cack othcr—so he spent 
most of his time writing stories thal would 
[ced everybody, and didn’t get around to 
another novel until “The Sirens of Ti- 
lan.” Vonnegut claims it's the only book 
he enjoyed writing, and it is a fantastic 
whoop, with characters pinballed to Mer- 
сигу, Mars and Titan, an "extremely 
pleasant moon of Saturn.” Init, the entire 
course of human history has had a single 
purpose: to deliver a replacement part to 
an alien spaceship on Titan. But at least 
it’s а purpose. 

Like the rest of his carly books, 
“Mother Night” lived only in hiding on 
the paperback racks. The next one, "Cat's 
Cradle,” in 1963, began with a typical 
lack of fanjare. But it leaked onto college 
campuses—where the hot discussion at 
ihe time was what Piggy symbolized in 
“Lord of the Flies"—and spread like a 
bizarre and happy rumor: a romp about 
the end of the world, with a new religion 


bounced 


created by a bum and based on agreeable 
lies, and full of useful new terms like 
karass and grand{alloon, Two years later, 
the rumor had spread so well that Von- 
negul hid become a campus cull hero; 
both the term and the status still make 
him a little jumpy. 

After 1955, when "God Bless You, Mr. 
Rosewater” came out, grownups began 
paying attention, too. One by one, the 
critics heard the kids and found a new 
novelist to play with; and while they were 
figuring out how to теасі lo him, Vonne- 
gut accepted an invitation to teach at 
Towa's Writers’ Workshop. Then came a 
Guggenheim, which he used to return to 
Dresden and to work on what became 
"Slaughterhouse-Five?” 

His family iy grown and scattered now, 
and Vonnegut has given up the Cape Cod 
farmhouse for a New York duplex in the 
East 50s. He says that “Breakfast of 
Champions" which was published in 
May, will be “the last of the selfish books.” 
H's supposedly about a confused and then 
crazed Midwesterner who believes he's 
the only human being in а world of 
robots, but it’s renlly about looking for, 
and finding, reasons to stay alive on а 
planet that’s certainly crazy and fre- 
quenily shiity, too—which, finally, is 
what all his hooks have been about. 

Vonnegut is 50 now, and for a lot of 
people that's а year full of changes, check- 
ing out old paths and directions, snooping 
around for new ones. To find out if that’s 
been the case for him, and to see how the 
world looks from where he's watching, we 
sent Staff Writer David Standish to talk to 
him in New York. Standish reports: 

“I was one of the people who made 

Kurt Vonnegut rich and famous. И was in 
1962, and I was a junior at a university 
in Ohio, on my way back from a wonder- 
ful wrecked weekend in Chicago. H was 
just about dawn, and 1 was waiting for the 
Indianapolis bus in the Greyhound sta- 
lion, tired and happy and hung over and 
in no mood for sleep. Joe, as we used to 
say, College. 
‘So I was cruising to kill time, and 
wound up staring through the haze at the 
paperback rack, blinking my eyes into 
Jocus, and saw. 


Kurt Vonnegut, fr. 
The Confessions of 
Howard W. Campbell, Jr. 


“It sounded weird enough. And й was. 
T spent the next three hours riding toward 
Vonnegut's home town, getting to know 
his remarkable zoo of odd, quirky charac- 
lers—senile, unreconstructed Nazis, artis- 
tic failed spies and fanatic evangelists who 
hate for God. The bock was funny and 
serious and sometimes incredibly smart; 
in it somewhere he develops the image of 
the crazed totalitarian mind as а gear 
with a few teeth missing: H licks along 


perfectly most of the time, then. skips, 
Jumps and Inrches—and ticks along per- 
fectly again. I was knocked out. And went 
back to Ohio and spread the word: “I 
don't know who this fucker Vonnegut is, 
but he’s а gas. Pass it on? 

“Eleven years later, I was ringing the 
bell of his apartment. At first I thought 
Thad the wrong building, it was so plain 
and unassuming on the outside: but that, 
ој course, was right: Vonnegut himself is a 
Tütle like that. He let me in, smiling, and 
led me through a tiny kitchen into a high- 
ceilinged living room. The walls were cov- 
ered with paintings, one or two huge and 
dreamily abstract, and one full of happy 
people done in fourth-grade primitive 
style that he said came from Haiti. The 
black Danish-imodern chair he sits in to 
write was pulled up toa low coffee table, 
facing his portable typewriter. Envelopes 
and papers and letters were piled in near- 
ly neat stacks on several tables. The rear 
wall was glass and faced an enclosed patio 
that was being used at the moment to 
store а тив rolled up and flopped there, 
Ti looked like he'd moved in a jew months 
before and was just finishing up. 1 asked 
him how long he'd lived there. He 
grinned. ‘Two years? 

“We started the interview tight away. 
He chain-smoked Pall Malls and laughed 
and wheezed and pondered, running his 
hands through his WASPro and some- 
times looking at the ceiling to find words. 
In his V-neck sweater, slacks and ald 
sneakers, he didn't look much like a prop- 
er hero for hip college students—more 
like their father. And he looked like he'd 
be a good спе. 1 had always loved his 
books, because they always made me 
laugh and often made me think, but as 
we talked, 1 realized that in а strange 
way—beyond the characters апд plan- 
ets that turn up again and again, like 
an askew intergalactic Yoknapatawpha 
County—all his books really fit together 
That there is a Plan. 1 began by asking 
him what he's trying lo say in his books.” 


PLAYBOY: Beyond the Lact that it's become 
a profitable way to make a living, why do 
you write? 

VONNEGUT: My motives are political. I 
gree with Stalin and Hitler and Musso- 
the writer should serve his sot 
I differ with dictators as to he 
ers should serve. Mainly, I think 
wld be—and biologically have 
gents of cl т the beer, 
we hope. 

PLAYBOY: Biologically? 

VONNEGUT: Writers are specialized cells i 
the social organism. They are cvolution- 
ary cells. Mankind is trying to become 
something else; it's experimenting with 
‘as all the And writers a 
of introducing new ideas into the 
0 a means of responding 
symbolically to life. I don't think we're in 
control of what we do. 
PLAYBOY: Whar is in coi 


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1 


Some people say Doc Snyders grass is a 


little greener on the brewery side of the hill. thing special. We just never figured it to be that 
special. 
In the 24 years Docs been working at the But then, last time we checked, the grass 
brewery hes become pretty much of — really did seem alittle greener on the brewery 
an expert on our gardens. бе side of the hill 


And folks who visit us here in 
Tumwater, Washington, keep ask- 
ing why our flowers bloom like they 
do, and why our grass grows so 
rich and green. Now to hear Doc 
tellit,it has 9 lot to do with the 
pure natural artesian water he 
uses. The same water we use to f укр »/ N 
brew our fine Olympia Beer. Af j| 

We always knew our 
artesian water was some- 


VONNEGUT: Mankind's wish 10 
m 
PLAYBOY: In a Darwinian sense? 
VONNEGUT: I'm not very gr 
win, although 1 suspect h 
ideas make people crueler. E 
says to them that people who get sick de- 
serve to be sick. that people who are in 
trouble must deserve to be in trouble. 
When anybody dies, cruel Darwinists 
igine we're obviously improving our- 
selves in some way. And any who's 
on top is there because he's a superior 
animal. Thats the social Darwinism of 
he last century, and it continues to 
boom. But forget Darwin. Wi e 
specialized cells doing whatever we do, 
and we're expressions of the entire society 
t as the sensory cells on the surface 
of your body are in the service of your 
body as a whole. And when a society is 
in great danger. we're likely to sound 
the alarms. T have the canary-bird-in-the- 
coal-mine theory of the arts. You know, 
coal miners used to take birds down into 
the mines with them to detect gas before 
men got sick. The artists certainly did that 
the case of Vietnam. They chirped and 
keeled over. Bur it made no d 
whatsoever. Nobody important cared. But 


improve 


for Dar- 


І continue to think that artists—all 
antists—should be treasured as 
syst 


PLAYBOY: Aud social planners? 
VONNEGUT: J have many ideas as to how 
Americans could be happier and beter 
cared for than they are 

PLAYBOY: In some ol your books—especial- 
ly The Sirens of Titan and Slaughter- 
house-Five—there’s a serious notion that 
all moments in time simultaneously, 
which implies that the future can't be 
changed by t of will in the present. 
How does a desire to improve things fit 
with th 
VONNEGUT: You understand, of course, 
that everything I say is horseshit, 
PLAYBOY: Of course. 

VONNEGUT: Well, we do live our lives 
imultaneously. That's a fact. You are 
s a child and as an old man. I re 
cently visited a woman who has Hodg- 
kin's di: She has somewhere between 
а few months and a couple of years to live, 
and she told me that she was living her 
life simultaneously now, living all the 
ioments. of it. 


here 


VONNEGUT. 1 
said to you is horseshit. But it’s a useful, 
comforting sort of horseshit, you sec? 
Thats what 1 object to about. preacl 
They don't say anything to make anybody 
any happier, when there are all these neat 
lies you can tell. And everyth 
because our brains are two-bit compute 
and we can't get very high-grade truths 
out of them. But as far as improving the 
human condition goes, our minds 
tainly up to that. That's what they were 
designed to do. And we do have the frec- 


е cer- 


dom to make up comforting lies. But we 
don't do enough of it, One of my favorite 
ministers was а guy named Bob Nichol- 


son. He looked like Joseph Cotten, and he 
jest up on 


was a bachelor Episcopa 
Cape Cod. Every time one of his parish- 
ioners died, he went all to pieces. He was 
outraged by death. So it was up to hi 
congregation and the relatives of the de- 
ceased to patch h naped 
up on Christianity sufficiently to get 
through the funeral service. I liked that 
very much: Nothing he was going to say 
in the standard Episcopalian funeral ora- 
tion was going to satisly him. He needed 
better lies. 

PLAYBOY: Did you come up with 
VONNEGUT: 1 tried. Everybody did. It was 
ituation, with a minister 
Sod falling apart like that 
PLAYBOY: What arc some of 
you like? 

VONNEGUT: “Thou shalt not kill." That's a 
good lie. Whether God said it or not, it's 
ill a perfectly good lic. And if it gives 
jt more force to that God said it, 
well, fine. 

PLAYBOY. 
grou 
VONNEGUT: My ancestor: me to the 
ted States a little before the Civil 


up, get him pi 


the lies 


back- 


gainst organized. religion. I never had 
any. I learned my outrageous opinions 
about sacred matters at my mother's knee. 
always had those. They 
bsolutely. cr: the 
United States Constitution and about the 
possibility of prosperity and the brother- 
hood of man here. They were willing to 
work very hard, and they were 
PLAYBOY: Do you think org 
can make anybody happier? 
VONNEGUT: Oh. ol course, Lots of comfort- 
ing lies are told in church—not enough, 
hers would lie more 
stand br 
Ive never he: 


convincingly a 
«пу we sho 


sermon on the subject of gentleness or re- 


t: Гус never heard 
was wrong to ki 
out against ches 
are 52 Sundays 
none of these subjects con 
PLAYBOY: Is y religio 
cr superior to any other? 

VONNEGUT. Alcoholics Anonymous. Alco- 
holics Anonymous gives you an extended 
family that’s very close to а blood brother- 
od, because everybody has endured the 
me catastrophe. And oue of the ench 
ing aspects of Alcoholics Anonymous 
many people join who are 
who pretend to be drunks because the so- 
cial benefits are so large. But 
they talk about real troubles, wh 
spoken about in church. as a ri 


cher ever speaks 
business. There 
‚ and somehow 
es up. 

you consid- 


halfway houses for people out of prisons, 
or for people recovering from drug habit: 


have the same problems: people han; 
round who just want the companion- 


ship. the brotherhood or the sisterhood, 
who want the extended family. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

VONNEGUT: It’s a longing for community. 
"Thisisa lonesome society that’s been frag- 
mented by the factory system. People have 
to move from here to there as jobs move, 
as prosperity leaves one area and appears 
somewhere else. People don't live in com- 
munities permanently anymore. But they 
should: Communities are very comforting 
to human beings. T was talking to a U 
ed ne Workers Гаму a bar down in 
the Village the other day. and he was tell- 
ig me how some miners in Pennsylvania 


damn well will not leave, even though the 
re going, because of the church 
ies there, and parti 


jobs 
centered commun 
larly because of the mw 
choirs that are 100 y 


They have 
s old. some of 


them, extraordinary choirs. and they're 
not going to leave that and go to бап 
Diego. and build ships or airplanes 


They're going to stay in Pennsyl 
cause that's home. And thar's intelli, 
People should have homes. My father and 
grandfather were both architects—my 
gr 
tect d he built a home 
with the idea that it would be inhabited 
by several Of course, the 
house is an undertaking parlor or a 
ukulele institute now. But during his life- 
time, my father built two dream homes 
ith the idea that further generations 
would live there. T would like there 
to be ancestral homes for all. Americans 
somewher 
PLAYBOY: But you're living in a New York 
partment now. 


with my profession, But I 
would like people to be able to stay i 
one community for a lifetime, to travel 
away from it to sce the w 
to come home a 


а childish question mags at me, and I 
finally have to say it out loud: "Where is 
my bed?” I grew up there, and nearly 
1.000.000 people live there now, but there 
place in that city where a bed 
пе, So I ask, "Where i and 
then wind up in a Holiday Inn. You can't 


my bed: 


recent times, you know, 
beings usually had a permanent cc 
ty of relatives. They had dozens of homes 
when a married couple had a 
or the other could go to a house 
doors down and stay with a close 
ative until he was feeling tender again. 
d got so fed up with his parents 
that he couldn't stand it, he could march 
over to his uncle's for a while. And this is 
no longer possible. Each family is locked 
into its litle box. The neighbors aren't 
relatives. There aren't other houses where 
people can go and be cared for. When 
on is pondering what's happening to 
Ameri е have the old values 


59 


PLAYBOY 


60 


gone?” and all that—the answer is per- 
fectly simple. We're lonesome. We don't 
have enough friends or relatives anymore. 
And we would if we lived in real 
communities. 

PLAYBOY. How do you fecl about those 
who are making attempts at alternate so- 
cial structures—such ascommunes? 
VONNEGUT: They want to go back to the 


way human beings have lived for 
1,000,000 years, which is intelligent. t 
fortunately, these communities usually 


don't hold together very long, and finally 
they fail because their members aren't 
really relatives. don't have enough in 
common. For a community really to work, 
you shouldn't have to wonder what the 
person next to you is thinki 
primitiv 

angers that 
gether now, as young people 
ms and try to live communally 
founders are sure to have hellish dill 
ences. But their children, if the co 
muncs hold together long enough to 
aise children, will be more comfortable 
together, will have more attitudes and ex- 
ces іп common, will be more like 
genuine relatives 

PLAYBOY: Have you donc any 
on this? 

VONNEGUT: No. I'm afr 
out it wasn't true. It'sa sunny little dream 
I have of a happier mankind. I couldn't 
survive my own pessimism if | didn't have 
some kind af sunny little dre 
mine, and don't tell me I'm wron 
Human beings wil! be happier—not whi 
they cure cancer or get to Ma i 
nate racial prejudice or flush Lake Erie 


society. In the communities of 
re being hammered to- 

е over 
he 


research 


id to. I might find 


That's what | want for me. 

PLAYBOY: You don't have a community 
VONNEGUT: Oh, there are a lot of people 
who'll tlk to me оп the telephone. 
And I always receive nice welcomes at 
Holiday Inns, Quality Motor Courts. 
Ra ins. 


of crazy different ways. 
PLAYBOY: You want to be with people who 
live nearby and think exactly as you do? 
VONNEGUT: No. "hat isn't pr е 
ugh. I want to be with people who 
t think at all. so 1 won't have to 
ink, either. I'm very tired of thinking. 
It. doesn’t seem to help very much. ‘The 
human brain is too high-powered to have 
many practical uses in this particular ur 
v my opinion. I'd like to live w 
alligators, think like an alligator. 
PLAYBOY: Could this feeling come fro! 
fatigue of having just finished а book? 
VONNEGUT: No. 

Even though you'd rather be 
alligator, could we talk about people some 
more? 

VONNEGUT: People arc 100 g 
world. 


»od for this 


PLAYBOY: You must have secn or heard 
of human communities that you'd like 
to join. 
VONNEGUT: Artists of different kinds con 
stitute a sort of extended family. I'm al- 
ready in that, I guess Artists usually 
understand опе another fairly well, wid 
having to explain much. 
There's one commune I admire here i 
New York, but 1 wouldn't want to joi 
it. It was founded by 
It's based on everybody's screw 
body else. This is intelligent, because it 
akes sort of a blood tie. It's actually a 
ng of a magical m: 
ture like that really docs tend to make a 
person more of a relative. It’s taken her 
а long time to construct this, because 
there аге а lot of people who can never 
relate that way, who can't get through the 
barriers. But it’s like the brotherhood 
ceremony in Tom Sawyer, when Tom and 
Huck sign oaths in their own blood. Vital 
substances are involved. 1 saw a thing on 
television recently about the exploration 
of the upper Nile: the British expedition 
was stopped by one of the tribal chiefs, 
and the chief wouldn't let them go on 
until they mingled their blood with 
the chief's blood. Another New York 
woman I know has a commune based оп 
cating big bowls of chili or spaghetti or 
rice every night. Those are also vital 
substances. 
PLAYBOY: This longing for community 
may expl ar least in part, the Jes 
freak movement among young people 
But why do you think they're attracted to 
imentalist Christianity? 
VONNEGUT: Well, the choice of a core for 
an artificial extended family is fairly arbi 
wary. Гус alr 
jim and bl 
tianity is equally commonplace m 
less, and therefore good. Do you know 
wh uceati is? I don't, but ГИ pre- 
wnd I do. It has to do with how big 
something has to be in order to grow 
rather than die out. The st d exam- 
ple is starting a fire in а coal furnace. H 
the fire you start is below a certa 
will go out, If it's larger than that, it will 
spread until all the fuel is on fire. Clamps 
of cancer cells are probably forming in us 
all the time and petering out—because 
the clumps are below a certa 
America, it's easy to form а large dump 
of people who know something about 
Christianity, since there has alw been 
so much talk about Christiani ound. 
1 wouldn't be 
Loroast is, for instance. But tli 
very big clumps of Christianit 
are very big dumps of race hatred. It's 
easy to. make either one of them grow, 
especially in a society as lonesome as this 
one is. All kinds of clumps 
PLAYBOY: So you don't admire Christianity 
any more or less than. а communal 
bowl of spaghetti every evening? Or any- 
thing else that might hold an extended 
family together? 


VONNEGUT: ] admire Christianity more 
than anything—Christianity аз symbol 
ized by gentle people sharing a com 
mon bowl. 

PLAYBOY: You speak of gentle people, but. 
is talk of Jesus freaks and 
s brings Charles Manson 


extended fa 
to mind. 
VONNEGUT: Yes, it docs. His, of course, was 
an extended ily. He recruited all these 
dim-witted girls, homeless girls, usually 
—jgirls who felt homeless, at апу rate 
4 the family meant so much to them 
that they would do anything for it. They 
were simple and they were awfully young 
PLAYBOY: What do you think Manson's ap: 
peal was to th em? 

VONNEGUT: 


gness to be fath 
It's onc of the weaknesses of our society 
that so few people are willing to be 
to be responsible, to be the organ 
izer, to say what's to be done next. Very 
few people are up to this. So if somebody 
is willing to take charge, he is very likely 
to get followers—more than he knows 
what to do with. The standard behav 
ior pattern in our society now is for the 
uher to deny he's father as soon as 
he possibly can, when the kid is 16 or 
so. I assume that Charles Manson pro- 
jected not only a willingness to become 
ather but to remain father and become 
grandfather and then greatgrandfather 
There was a permanence there ihat 
people haven't been able to get from 
their own parents 
PLAYBOY: And if fachi 
you just take yoi 
VONNEGUT: Sure. What the hell? You just 
got born and you're going to leave before 
you know it. 
PLAYBOY: Do you h 
how to put together he 
amilies than Manson's? 
VONNEGUT: Sure. Put Christia 
gheni instead of murder at their core. I 
recommend this for countries, too. 
PLAYBOY: Is there some way our country 
could encourage the growth of extended 
amilies? 
VONNEGUT: Ву law. 
Trout story abo 
PLAYBOY: Kilgore 


happens to be evil, 


е any suggestions on 
althier extended 


ity or spa- 


Tm writing a Kilgore 
that right now. 

Trout is the fic 
icr you've used in some 


ious 


of your novels. 


VONNEGUT: Ih; 
story now about a time when our Govern- 
ment understands that it isn’t taking care 
of the people because it’s too clumsy 
slow. It wants to help people, but it can't 
get anywhere in time. So the President 
pens to visit Niger e extended 
families have been the style since the be 
ginning of time. He is impressed, and 
properly so. Huge families take care of 
their own sick and old. of any relative in 
trouble. They do it rig nd 
cost to the government, So the President 
of the United States comes home and he 
announces that the trouble with the coun- 
try is that nobody has cnough relatives 


s rue. And he's writin 


1, W 


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On ep. 23 


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PLAYBOY 


62 


ice. Nobody can just 
yell for help. Everybody has to fill out 
forms. So the President is going to have 


PLAYBOY: At random? 

VONNEGUT: Higgledy-piggledy. You have 
to throw out whatever middle name you 
have and substitute whatever name the 
computers give you—names of Greek 
gods, colors, chemical clements flowers, 
animals. The story begins with a political 
refugee coming io America. and he not 
only has to swear allegiance to the country 
and all that, he also has to accept a new 
middle name from the computers, They 
give him the middle name Datlodil. His 
me becomes Laszlo Daffodil Blintz. Не 
as 20,000 relatives all over the country 
with the same Government Issue middle 
name. He gets a Dalloxlil family directory 
a subscription to the Daffodil family's 
monthly magazine. There would be lots of 
ads in there for jobs, things to buy, things 
to sell. 

PLAYBOY: Wouldn't his GI relatives take 
advantage of him? 

VONNEGUT; 1f they asked for too much, he 
could tell them to just the way 
he would a blood relati: And there 
would be ads and articles in the family 
monthly about crooks or deadbeats in the 
family. The joy of it would be that no- 
body would feel alone and anybody who 
needed seven dollars until next Tuesday 
ora b ter for an hour or a trip to 
] could get it. Whenever Tin 
motel in a big city, 1 look up 
Vonneguts and Перет in the telephone 
book, and there never are any. Lieber 
my mothe name. But if I 
€ a Daffodil or a Chipmunk or a 
Chromium, there would be plenty of 
mumbers to call. 

PLAYBOY: What if they didn’t want to 
hear from you? 
VONNEGUT: That's а 
fence with rel 


Пу standard ex- 
ез. It's also fairly 
andard for relatives to be glad to hear 
from you, to help if they can. 

PLAYBOY: They wouldn't be compelled by 
Lew to give you what you wanted? 
VONNEGUT: Hell, no. It would be like reg- 
ular relatives, only there would be slews. 
of them. И some guy came ringing my 
doorbell and he said, "Hey, you're a Chip- 
munk and Im a Chipmunk; I need a 
hundred. dollars," I would listen to his 
story, if I felt like it, and give him what I 
could spare, what 1 thought he deserve 
It could be zero. And it wouldu't turn the 
country sappy, mawkish society, 
cither, There would be more people tell- 
g each other t0 go screw than there are 
tight now. A panhandler could come up 
to you and say, " Hey. buddy. can you help 
a fella out?" And you could ask him his 
middle name, and he might say, "Chromi- 
um,” and you could say, “Screw you, 'ma 
Chipmunk. Go ask a Chromium for help.” 


into 


entually. of course, the Chromiums 
would start thinking they were just a little 
bit better than the Daffodils and “I don't 
know whit it is about those Chipmunks,” 
and so on, but there would also be people 
Agrounds meeting as relatives. 
“Are you an „ I'm an Emer- 
ald, too! Where аге y m?" I know 
that as far as Vonneguts go, I've got some 
claim on those people. I got a postcard on 
my 50th birthday signed by a lot of people 
named Vonnegu—a Catholic branch 
around Oakland, California. I don't know 
how they found out it was my birthday, 
but 1 got this marvelous card and Td 
never met them. 

One time a few years ago, T was speal 
ing at the University of Hawaii and some- 
body came up to me and said, "Who's 
Fred Vonnegut?” I said I didn't know and 
he told me that Fred Vonnegut’s name 
was in the newspaper all the time. So I 
picked up a Honolulu paper and in it 
there was this big used-car ad with a pic- 
ture of Fred and a headline like “COME ix 
AND ASK FRED VONNEGUT FOR A GOOD DEAL,” 
So Hooked him up and we had supper to- 
gether. Turned out that he grew up in 
Samoa and his mother was a Finn. But the 
meeting. the connection, was exciting to 
both of us. 

PLAYBOY: Aren't links by name, though, 
Ise in Cat's Cra- 
iat finds its identity in an. 
hared es perience? 
VONNEGUT: I don’t know, but if it works, 
it doesn’t matter. It’s like the drug t 
among young people. The fact that they 
use drugs gives them a community. If you 
become a user of any drug, you can pick 
et of friends you'll see day alter day, 
se of the urgency of getting drugs all 
the time. And youll get a community 
where you might not ordinarily have one. 
Built around the marijuana thing was a 
community, and the same is true about 
the long-hair thing: You're able to greet 
and trust strangers because they look like 


you, because they use m d so 
forth. ‘These are all magical amulets by 
which they recognize onc another—and so 


you've got a community. The drug thing 
sting, too, because it shows 
damn it, people are wonderfully 
resourceful, 

PLAYBOY: How so? 

VONNEGUT: Well, thousands of people in 
our society found out they were too stupid 
or too unattractive or too ignorant to rise, 
They realized they couldn't get a nice car 
or a nice house or a good job. Not eve 
body can do that, you know. You must be 
very pleasant. You must be good looking. 
You must be well connected. And they 
ved that if you lose, if you don't rise 
in our society, you're going to live in the 
midst of great ugliness, that the police are 
going to try to drive you back there every 
time you try to leave. And so people 
trapped like that have really considered 
all the possibilities. Should I paint my 


room? If I get a lot of rat poison, will the 
rats go away? Well, no. The rats vill still 
be there, and even if you paint it, the 
room will still be ugly. You still won't 
have enough money to go to a movie the- 
ater; you still won't be able to make 
friends you like or can trust. 

So what can you do? You can change 
your mind. You can change your insides. 
The drug thing аза perfectly marvelous, 
resourceful, brave experiment. No gov. 


ernment would have dared perform this 
experiment. I's the sort of thing a Nazi 


d in a concentra. 
block С 


doctor might have t 
tion camp. Loading, everybody 


up with amphetamines. In block D. gi 


ing them all heroin. Keeping everyone in 
block E high on marijuana—and just 
seeing what happened to them. But this 
experiment was and continues to be per 
formed by volunteers, and so we know an 
awful lot now about how we can be 
changed internally. It may he that the 
population will become so dense that ev- 
erybody's going to live in ugliness, and 
that the intelligent human solution—the 
only possible solution—will be to change 
our insides. 
PLAYBOY: Have dr 
for you? 
VONNeGuT: No—although I did get into 
the prescribed-amphetamines thing be 
cause I was sleeping a lot. Гус always 


5 been a solution 


been able to sleep well, but after eight 


hours of sleep, I'd find myself taking a 
ap in the afternoon. I found 1 could 
sleep fom one to five if T wanted to. 
spend the afternoon seeing wonderful 
color movies. It’s a common response to 
depression. 1 was taking these enormous 
naps and 1 decided it was a waste of time. 
So I talked to а doctor about it and she 
prescribed Ritalin. It worked. It really 
impressed me. I wasn't taking a whole lot 


of it, but it puzzled me so much that I 
could be depressed and just by taking 


this damn liule thing about the size of 
а pinhead, I would feel much better. I 


used to think that I was responding to 
Attica or to the mining of the harbor of 
Haiphong. But I wasn't. I was obviously 


ternal chemistry, All L 
had to do was take one of those little pills. 
I've stopped, but 1 wis so interested that 
my mood could be changed by à pill. 
PLAYBOY: Do you experience manic peri- 
ods as well as depressive ones? 
VONNEGUT: Until recently, about every 20 
days, I blew my cork. 1 thought for a long 
time that I had perfectly good reasons for 
these periodic blowups: I thought people 
around me had it coming to them. But 
only recently have 1 realized that this 
has been happening regularly since I've 
been six years old. There wasn't much 
the people around me could do about 
it. They could probably throw me off а 
лу Or so, but it was really a preuy 
steady schedule. 

PLAYBOY: You say was. 

VONNEGUT: Well, I've been taking lessons 


responding to 


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PLAYBOY 


66 


how to deal with it. Гуе been going to 
doctor once a week. It isn't psychoa 
ysis: IV's a more superficial sort of thing. 
I'm talking to her about depression, try- 
ing t0 understand ity nature. Aud ап aw- 
fal lor of it is physiological. In this book 
Ive just finished. Breakfast of Champi- 
ons, the motives of all the characters 


explained in terms of body chemistry. 
You 


now, we don't give a shit about the 
acters childhoods or abou 
d_yesterday—we just want to know 
what the state of their blood streams is. 
They're up when their blood streams are 
up and they're down when their blood 
streams are down. But for me, this year is 


а much better one than Last year w 
pressions really had те, and they don't 
this year. Fm m g much better. I 


маз really very den lela couple ol 
years, and by working at it, I've gotten 
myself up again. Fm getting help from 
intelligent people who aren't Freudians. 
PLAYBOY: Early on in Slnughterhousc-Five, 
you mention getting a liule drunk at 
night and calling old friends long dis- 
tance. Do you still do that? 
VONNEGUT. Not morc. But 
ful. You can find anybody you want in the 
whole country. E love ro muck around in 
the past, as long as there are real. people 
and not ghosts to muck around with. I 
knew an obstetrician who was very poor 
He went to Cali- 
fornia and he became rich and famous. 
He was an obstetrician for movie stars. 
When he retired. he went back to the 
Midwest and looked up all the women 
he'd taken out when he was nobody. He 
wanted them to see he was somebody 
"Good for you.” I said. I thought it 
ng thing to do. I like people 
ever forget 

I did a crazy thing like that myself. At 
Shortridge High School, when 1 went 
there. we had a senior dance at which com- 
ical prizes were given to different people 
in the class. And the football coach—he 
a hell of a good coach, we had а dy- 
c football team—was giving out the 


t's wonder- 


when he was young. 


now, 


was a cha 
who 


wa 


presents. Other people had rigged them, 
but he was passing them our, announcing 
what the present was for each person. At 


real ski 


that time. 1 was 
shouldered boy. 
PLAYBOY: Like Billy Pilgrim in Slaughter- 
house? 

VONNEGUT: Right. Т was a preposterous 
kind of flamingo. And the present the 
couch gave me was a Charles Atlas cow 
And it made me sick. I considered going 
out and slashing the coach's tires, I 
thought it was such an irresponsible 
thing for an adult to do to a kid. But I 
just walked out of the dance and wı 
home. The humiliation was somethin 
never forgot. And one night last year, I 
got on the phone and called Indianapolis 
information and asked for the number 
of the coach. T got him on the phone and 
told him who I was. And then I reminded 


ny. narrow- 


him about the present and said. “I want 
you to know that my body turned out a 
Tight" It was a neal unburdeni 
certainly beats psychiatry- 
PLAYBOY: In your 
darkens all the fun, Despite your 
ently successful self-therapy, do you coi 
sider yourself basically sad? 

VONNEGUT: Well. there are sad things 
from my childhood, which 1 assume have 
something to do with any sadness, But апу 
sadness E feel now grows out of frustri- 


can do—things that are chcap—th: 
not doing. It has to do with ideas. I 
heist, as I said, and not imo funerals—I 
don’t like the idea of them very much 
—hur 1 finally decided 10 go visit the 
graves of my parens. And so Î did. There 
are two stones out there in Indianapolis. 
and 1 looked at those two stones side by 
side and 1 just wished—1 cou'd hear it in 
my head, I knew so much what 1 wished 
—that they had been happier than they 
were, It would have been so goddamned 
easy for them to be happier thau they 
were. So that makes me sad. I'm grateful 
ned from them that organized 
religion is anté-Christian. and that ra- 
prejudices are stupid and cruel. Tm 
grateful, too, that they were good at mak- 
ing jokes. But 1 also learned a bone-deep 
sadness from them. Kids will learn any- 
thing. you know. Their heads are empty 
when they're born. Grownups сап put 
anything in ther 
PLAYBOY: Why were your parents so sad? 
VONNEGUT: | can guess. 1 can guess that 
the planet they loved and thought they 
understood was destroyed in the First 
World War. Something I said earlier, that 
human beings were (00 good for this 
ply the sadness 
h. of cou 
They wrecked th lives thinking the 
ngs. And, damn it, it wouldn't 
ve taken much effort to get them to 
think about the right things 

PLAYBOY: Arc you like your c 
Rosewater in the sense of fec 
der about all the sadness in the world? 
VONNEGUT: It's sort ol self.congratulatory 
10 be the person who walks around pity- 
ing other people. I don't do that very 
much. I just know that there are plenty 
of people who are in terrible trouble and 
can’t get out. And so I'm impatient with 
those who think that it’s easy for people 
to get ont of trouble. I think there are 
some people who really need a lot of help. 
I worry about stupid people, dumb 
people. Somebody has to take care of 
them, because they can’t hack it. One 
thing 1 tried to get going at one time was 
а nonprofit oi jon called Life En- 
incering. If you didirt know what to do 
d you сате to us, we'd iell you. 
only requirement would be that you 
ad ıo do what we told you. You'd have 
10 absolutely promise to do whatever we'd 
say, and then we'd give you the best pos- 


г 


‘acter Eliot 
ig very ten- 


ld. But it turned out 
that nobody ever kept his promise and 
we had no way ol enloring it. We 
couldn't bring in a couple of hit men 
from Detroit 

PLAYBOY: Another way of de: 
sadness, of coming to ter 
Jems you can't solve, is through humor. Is 
that your way? 

VONNEGUT. Well, I try. 
response to frustr: 


sible answer we c 


But la 
just 


aud it solves nothing. just as te 
nothing. Laughing or crying is what a 
human being does when there's noth 


written very 
h is interesting. 
Шу such а humor- 
ple he gives is of the 
n't get through a gare to bite 
а person or fight another dog. So he digs 
dist. I doesn't solve anything, but he h: 
to do something. Crying or laughing is 
what a human being does instead. I used 
10 make speeches a Jor, because 1 needed 
the money. Sometimes I was funny. And 
my peak fun ne when T was at 
Notre Dame. a ary festival there. It 
was in a huge auditorium and the aud 
ence was so tightly tuned that everyth 
I said was funny. MIT had to do was 
cough or clear my throat and the whole 
place would break up. This is a really 
horrible story I'm telling. People were 
laughing because they were in agony, full 
of pain they couldn't do anything about 
They were sick and helpless because Mar- 
пи had been shot two days 
before d been called olf 
оп the Thursday he was shot, and then 
it was resumed the next day. Bur it was 
а day of grieving. of people trying to pull 
themselves together. And then, on 5 
дау, it was my tui 
ly comical stuff 1 do 
ief that the la 


else he cm do. Freud h 
soundly on humor—wh: 


less n 
dog w 


presence of g 


There was am enormous 
need w either laugh or ay 
possible adjustment. There w 


back. So the 
the ыа: 


you could do to 1 
biggest lan 
disappointments and d 
PLAYBOY: Is that what's 
mor? Or is all эг blac 
VONNEGUT; In a sense. it probably is. Cer 
tainly, the people Bruce Jay Friedman 
amed ck humorists weren't really 
very much like one another. m not a 
whole lot like J. P. Donleavy 
Fri aw some similarity there 


alled black fie 


5 bl 


iedman 


handy. All they had to do was say black 
humorists and they'd be naming 90 writ 
ers. It was а form of shorthand. But 
Freud had already written about gallows 
humor. which is middle-European humor. 
I's people laughing in the middle of po- 
litical helplessness. Gallows humor had to 
do with people in the Austro Hungarian 
Empire. ‘There were Jews, Serbs, Croats 
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PLAYBOY 


68 


into a very unlikely sort of empire. And 
dreadful things happened to them. They 
were powerless, helpless people, and so 
they made jokes. It was all they could do 
in the face of frustration. The gallows 
humor that Frend identifies is what we re- 
gard as Jewish humor here: 105 humor 
about weak, intelligent people in hopeless 
situations. And I have customarily writ- 
ten about powerless people who felt 
't much they could do about 
tions, 

One of my favorite cartoons—I think it 
was by Shel Silverstein—shows a couple of 
guys chained to an 18-foot cell wall, hung 
by their wrists, and their ankles are 
chained, too. Above them is a tiny barred 
that а mouse couldn't crawl 
through. And one of the guys is saying 10 
the other, “Now here's my рап..." It 
goes against the American storytelling 
grain to have someone in a situation he 

апт get out of, but L think this is very 
usual in life. There are people, pa 
larly dumb people, who are in terri 
trouble and never get out of it, because 
re not intelligent enough. And 
strikes me as gruesome and comical 
in our culture we have ап expectation 
that a man can always solve his problems. 
There is that implication that if you just 
have a little more energy, a little more 
fight, the problem can always be solved. 
This is so untrue than it makes 
to cry—or laugh. Culturally 
men aren't supposed to cry. So T don't 
«ту much—but 1 do laugh a lot. When I 
uneducated black. 
junkie in this city, and then I run into 
some optimist who feels 


window 


ın lift himself above his origins if he's 
g to cry about 


пу good—that’s somet 
or laugh about. A sort of braying, donkey- 
like laugh. But every laugh counts. be- 
cause every laugh feels like a laugh. 
PLAYBOY: What sort of things strike you as 
genuinely funny? 

VONNEGUT: Nothing really breaks me up. 
I'm in the business of making jokes: 
minor art form. I've had some natural t 
ent for it. hs like building а mousetrap. 
You build the trap, you cock it. you trip it. 
wd then bang! My books are essentially 
mosaics made up of a whole bunch of tiny 
little chips; and cach chip is a joke. ‘They 
may be five Hines long or eleven lincs long. 
IFT were writing tragically, I could have 
Brcat sea changes there, a great serious 
steady flow. Instead, I've gotten into the 
joke business. One reason I write so slowly 
is that I try to h joke work. You 
lly have to or the books are lost, But 
joking is so much a part of my life adjust- 
ment that I would begin to work on a 
story on any subject and I'd find funny 
things in it or I would stop. 

PLAYBOY: How did you happen to begin 
writing? 

VONNEGUT: The high school I went to had 
a daily paper, and has had since about 
1900. They had a printing course for the 


ec 


people who weren't going on to college. 
and they realized, "My goodness, we've 
got the linotypes—we could easily get out 
а paper" So they started getting out a 
paper every day, called the Shortridge 
Echo. It was so old my | 
worked on it. Aud so, rather t 
for a teacher, which is what most people 
do, writing for an audience of onc—for 
iss Green or Mr. Watson—I started out 
g for a large audience. And if 1 did 
а lousy job, 1 caught a lot of shit in 24 
It just turned out that 1 could 
an a lot of other people. 
as something he can do 
t imagine why everybody 
ng so much trouble doing 
In my case, it was writing, In my 


brothers case, it was mathematics and 
- In my sister's case, it was drawing 


and sculpting, 
PLAYBOY: Were you а 
fiction by then? 
VONNEGUT: Most of it was in the pulps, 
you know. I would read science-fiction 
pulps now and then, the same way I'd 
read sex pulps or airplane pulps or mur- 
der pulps. The majority of my contem- 
poraries who are science-fiction writers 
now went absolutely bananas over science- 
fiction pulps when they were kids, spend- 
ing all their money on them, collecting 
them, trading them, gloating over them, 
cheering on authors the straight world 
thought were hacks. I never did that, and 
I'm sorry. I'm shy around other science- 
fiction writers, because they want to talk 
about thousands of stories I never read. 
1 didn't think the pulps were beneath 
me; I was just pissing away my life in 
other Wi 
PLAYBOY: Such as? 

VONNEGUT: I dunno. I used to say I wasted. 
eight years building model airplanes and 
jerking off, but it was a little more compli- 
cated than that. I read science fiction, but 
it was Conservative stuff —H. С. Wells and 
Robert Louis Stevenson, who's easily for- 
gotten, but he wrote Jekyll and Hyde. 
And I read George Bernard Shaw, who 
docs ап awful lot of extrapolating, p: 
ticularly in his roductions. Back to 
Methuselah was science fiction enough 
for me. 

PLAYBOY: What do you think of it as a 
form? The standard critical appraisal is 
that it'slow rent. 

VONNEGUT: Well, the rate of payment has 
always been very low compared with that 
for other forms of writing. And the people 


ady into science 


whos ле the pulp writ- 
ers. ting thing: Wher 

IBM brought out an electric typewriter, 
they didn't know if they had a product or 


ot. They really couldn't imagine that 
nybody was that discontented with the 
typewriter already. You know, the me- 
chanical typewriter was a wonderful 
thing; E never heard of anybody's hands 
getting tired using one, So ІВМ was 
worried when they brought out elec 


they didn't know 
ybody would have any usc 
lor them. But the first sales were made 
to pulp writers, writers who wanted to 
go faster because they got paid so much 
а word. But they were going so fast that 
tion didn't matter and dialog 
as wooden and all that—because it was 
always first draft. "That's what you sold, 
because you couldn't afford to take the 
time to sharpen up the scenes. And so that 
persisted, and young people deciding to 
become science-fiction writers would use 
models what was already being written 
The quality was usually terrible, but in a 
way it was liberating, because you were 
able to put an awful lot of keen ideas into 
circulation fast. 

PLAYBOY: What attracted you to using the 
form yoursell? 

VONNEGUT: 1 was working for General 
Electric at the time, right alter World 
War Two, and I saw a milling machine 
for cutting the rotors on jet engines, gas 
turbines. This was a very expensive thing 
lor a machinist to do, to cut what is es- 
scntially one of those Brancusi forms. 5 
they had a computer-operated milling 
machine built to cut the blades, and I was 
fascinated by that. This was in 1949 and 
the guys who were working on it were 
foresceing all sorts of machines being run 
by little boxes and punched cards. Pl. 
Piano was my response to the implica- 
tions of having everything run by litle 
boxes. The idea of doing that, you know, 
made sense, perfect sense. To have a little 
clicking box make all the decisions wasn't 
a vicious thing to do. But it was too bad 
for the human beings who got their dig- 
nity from their jobs. 

PLAYBOY: So science fiction seemed like the 
best way to write about your thoughts on 
the subject? 

VONNEGUT: There was no avoiding it, 
since the General Electric Company was 
science fiction. I cheerfully ripped off the 
plot of Brave New World, whose plot had. 
been cheerfully ripped off from Eugene 
Zamiatin's We. 

PLAYBOY: Slaughterhouse-Five is m; 
about the Dresden fire bombing, which 
you went through during World War 
‘Two. What made you decide to write it in 
a science-fiction mode? 

VONNEGUT: These things are intuitive 
‘There's never any strategy meeting about 
what you're going to do; you just come to 
work every day. And the sciencefiction 


like the clowns in Shakespeare. When 
Shakespeare figured the audience had had 
enough of the heavy stuff, he'd let up a 
little, bring on a clown or a foolish i 
keeper or something like that, before he'd 
become serious again. And trips to other 
planets, science fiction of an obviously 
kidding sort, is equivalent to bringing 
on the clowns every so often to lighten 
things up. 

PLAYBOY: While you were writing Slaugh- 
terhouse-Five, did you try at all to deal 


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PLAYBOY 


70 


with the subject оп a purely realistic 
level? 

VONNEGUT: I couldn't. because the book. 
largely a found object. It was what 
in my head, and 1 was able to get it 
out, but one of the characteristics about 
this object was that there was a complete 
blank where the bombing of Dresden took 
place, because I don't remember. And I 
looked up several of my war buddies and 
they didn't remember, either. They didn't 
want to talk about it. There was a com- 
plete forgetting of what it was like. There 
mation surrounding 
r as my memory bank 
was concerned, the center had been pulled 
right out of the story. There was nothing 
up there to be recovered—or in the heads 
of my friends, eithe 
PLAYBOY: Even if you don't remember it, 
did the experience of being interned— 
and bombed—in Dresden change you in 
any way? 
VONNEGUT: No. I suppose you'd think so, 
because that’s the Cliché. The importance 
of Dresden in my life has been consider 
bly exaggerated because my book about it 
became a best seller, If the book hadn't 
been a best seller, it would seem like a very 
псе And 1 don't 
ves 
that. Dresdei 


m events lik was aston 
but exper tonishing 
without changing you. It did make me feel 


hungry as [was for as long as I was in pris- 
on camp. Hunger is a normal experience 
for a human being, but not for a middle- 
class American human being. I was phe- 

ly hungry for about six months. 


But only being hungry for a while—my 
ight was 175 when I went into the 
Army and 134 when 1 got out of the 
P. O. W. camp, so we really were hungry 
just leads to smugness now. I stood it. 
But one of my kids, at about the same 
age I was, got tuberculosis in the Peace 
Corps and had to lic still in a hospital 
ward for a year, And the only people who 
get tuberculosis in our society now are old 
people. skid-row people. So he had to 
the young man for a year, motion- 
less, surrounded by old alcoholics—and 
this did change him. It gave him some- 
thing to med 
PLAYBOY: What did your experience 
Dresden give you to meditate abou 
VONNEGUT: My closest friend is Bernard 
У. O'Hare. He's a lawyer in Pennsylvania, 
nd he’s in the book. I asked him what the 
experience of Dresden meant to him and 
he said he no longer believed what his 
Government said, Our generation did be 
lieve what its Government said—because 
we weren't lied to very much. One rea 
son we weren't lied to was that there 


wasn't а war going on in our childhood, 
and so essentially we were told the ruth 
There was no reason for our Government 
to lie very elaborately to из. But à govern- 
ment at war does become a lying gover 
ment for many reasons. One reason is to 
confuse the enemy. When we went into 
the war, we felt our Government w: 
respecter of life, careful about not injur- 


ng civilians and that sort of thing Well, 
Dresden 1 no баскі value; it was a 

ot ci ans. Yet the Allies bombed it 
until i urned and melted. And then 


they lied about it. АП that was startling 
to us. But it doesn’t startle anybody now. 
What startled everybody about the carpet 
bombing of Hanoi wasn't the bombing: it 
маз that it took place at Christmas. That's 
what everybody was outraged abou 
PLAYBOY: As ап cx-prisoner of war, how 
do you feel about the P. O. W.s returning 
from Vietnam? 
VONNEGUT: Well, they were obviously 
primed to speak as they did by our own 
ment. But that shouklu't surprise 
пу case, these men have blatantly 
vested interests: They were highly paid 
ns in this war. Our 45,000 white 
m were the children of 
lower-class families. The casualties have 
been hideous in the coal fields of Pennsyl- 
ad in the ghettos. These people 
kea lot of money out of the war, 
don't have lifetime careers. War was hell 
for them, and these highly paid executives 
е coming back saying, "Yes, it’s а won- 
derlul business.” “Lhey get paid as much, 
some of them, as the managing editor of a 
magazine gets paid. They're prof 
sional warriors who'll go anywhere 
fight any time. 
PLAYBOY: You don't seem particul. 
sympathetic about their internment. 
VONNEGUT: I'm pigheaded about certa: 
things. I'm pigheaded about the differ- 
ence between the and the Infa 
ty. P like the y. Ш there were 
rother war, and if 1 were young enough, 
and if it were a ju I'd be in the In- 
fanuy again. 1 wouldn't want to be in 
anything else Before the Ca sd 
thought that infantrymen funda- 
mentally honorable— 
feeling among infantry ol other 
countries ас war, too. That much about 
war was respectable and tli 
tionable—even the artillery, you know, 
iding in the woods and lobbing shells. 
That's foolish, but I still feel it. Also, I 
hatc officers. 
PLAYBOY: Why? 
VONNEGUT: They're all shits. Every officer 
D ever knew was a shit. I spoke at West 
Point on this subject and they found it 
very funny. Bur all my life I've hated offi- 
cers, because they speak so badly to the 
ground troops. The way they speak to 
lower ranking persons is utterly unneces- 
sary. A friend of mine was here the other 
day and he had bought a new overcoat he 
was very proud of. But 1 didn't like it, be 


were 
nd there was that 


тем was ques- 


cause it had epaulets—and I thi he's 
them off. 

ing from Player Piano. 
ndictment of scientists 
and the scientific way of looking at the 
world, you don't overly love them, cither. 
In the 21 years since the book was pub- 
lished, has your attitude toward them 
changed? 
VONNEGUT: Well, scientists have changed 
considerably. Tt turns out that people 
follow stereotypes because it makes thing 
casier lor everybody else. It used to be that 
professors really were absent-minded: it 
was expected of them and they could get 
away with it. So they would cultivate it 
until it became a habit missing appoint 
ments, forgetting important anniversaries 
—but they don't do that anymore. And it 
used to be that scientists w often like 
Irving Langmuir. He was a Nobel Prize 
winner, and my brother, who is a fi 


PLAYBOY: Judg 
which is a strong 


11 


relationships sim- 


ply the truth could 
never hurt human beings and that he 
wasn't interested in the applications of 


whatever he turned up. Many scientists 
were that way—and Гуе known a hell of 
a lot of them, because at General Electric, 
an largely for the research 
re. They had hundreds of 


phers and electron microsc 
those guys. I was there every day. st 
my nose in here and there and talking to 
them. And back then, around 1919, they 
I innocent, 
truth and not wor 
be done with their discoveries. 
The A-bomb had h 
minds at that point? 
VONNEGUT: No. But then they all woke up. 
‘They decided, “Goddamn it, we're going 
to мап paying attention.” So they did. 
nd the Langmuir type of innocent. no 
longer exists. It was a stereotype 


II simply dealing with 


ed about what might 


раа 


at one 
time and it was useful to the politicians 
nd the industrialists that scientists 
wouldn't worry about the implications of 
their discoveries ey've learned that 
anything they turn up will be applied if it 
can be. I's a Law of life that if you turn up 
something that can be used violently, it 


cence of his work—like cloud seeding with 
dry ice and silver iodide. He discovered 
xlide would make it snow and 
Aud | 
apo when 


ide conditions 
watched his shock about a y 
it came out that we had been seeding 
the hell out of Indochina for years. He 
Its some- 


сеп 


had known nothing about it 


ht here in 
ard—all we'd need is some 
tor that would send 
. But my brother 


crummy smoke gene; 
up silver-iodide smok 


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PLAYBOY 


72 


always tried to be alert to the violent 
ses of what he might turn up, and it sad- 
dened him to find out that silver iodide 
had been used in warlare. So scientists 
have become concerned about the moral 
ity of what they're doing. Its been hap- 
pening for some time. Several years ago, 
Norbert Wiener, the MIT mathemati- 
п, wrote in Ailantic that he wasn't 
going to give any more information to 
dustry or the Government, because they 
weren't gentle people, because they don't. 
have humane uses for things. 
PLAYBOY: What about scien: 
Wernher Von Braun? 
VONNEGUT: Well. n engineer, of 
course, not a scientist. But what do I thi 
of him? I don't know him. but it seems to 
me that he has а heartless sort of inno- 
cence, the sort of innocence that would 
low a man to invent and build an clec 
tric ch n act of good citizensh 
He has been an inventor of weapons sys- 
tems in the past. Inventors of weapons sys- 
tems, and Leonardo da Vinci was among 
them, are not friends of the common man. 
So far, at least, the space pro- 
s been a nonviolent application 
ol science and technology. What are your 
feelings about it? 
VONNEGUT: I went to the last moonshot: E 
lad never seen one before. Гуе been 
inst the space program, just because it 
was so expensive and because we were in 
such a terrible hurry to do it, We've had 
the technology for а while to do it, but it 
seems to me that the 
about getting to the moon and spending 
h money doing it. We might plan 
next 500 years to explore the moon. 
Alter all. we knew there were no resources 
ve could economically bring back from 
there, and we knew there was no atmos- 
phere. Even if the whole thing were 
paved with diamonds, that wouldn't help 
us much. So it seems like a vaudeville 
lot of scientists felt it was money 


в such as 


—as 


э certainly no rush 


ve been an 
huge bridge or 
publicity and 


engineerin 
enormous skyscraper or а 
something like that. It w: 


show business. not science. John F. Ken- 
it. He 

joyful 

Меге and he loved to win. And it wasn't 


bad guess, really, that this might cheer 
ims up and make us more ener- 
lwt quite work out that way, 
is enthusiasm for this 
thing, was really wishing the best for the 
ican people. He thought it might 
jously. 
PLAYBOY: When. in fact, most people got 
bored with it very quickly. Why do you 
think that happened? 
VONNEGUT: It seemed childish. It seemed. 
childish even to children, My children 
imply weren't interested, There was 
thing they wanted on the moon. A 
third grader knows there's no atmosphere 


there. There's nothing to ear or d 
body to talk to. They already 
There's more that they want in the Sa 
or on the polar icecap. 

PLAYBOY: The science-fiction versions of 
how it would happen were certainly more 
flamboyant than the actuality. 
VONNEGUT: Well, they picked colorless 
men to make the trip, because colorless 


people on spaceships are arguing all 
the time. Well, people who are going to. 
argue shouldn't go on spaceships in the 


first plac 
PLAYBOY: What was it like to be a 
ast sho 
VONNEGUT: It was a thunderingly be: 
ful experience—voluptuous, sexual, dan- 
gerous and expensive as hell. Martha 
Raye was there. Don Rickles was there. 


PLAYBOY: Somebody died? 

VONNEGUT: Life magazine died. They 
were down there with cameras that looked 
like siege howivers. We hung around 
with them. We were down there on cre- 
dentials from Harper's. When they got 
home with their pictures, they found out 


Life had died. How's that for a symbol? 
Our planet became Lifeless while our 
stronauts were on their way to the moon 


We went down there because a Swedish 
journalist at a cocktail party in New York 
told us he cried at every launch. Also, my 
brother had told me you see one 
go up. you s worth it.” 

PLAYBOY: You said it was sexual. 
VONNEGUT: It’s a tremendous sp: 
and there's some kind of conspiracy to 
suppress that fact, Thats why all the 
stories about launches are во low-key. 
They never give a hint of what a visceral 
xperience it is to watch а launch. How 
would the taxpayers feel if they found out 


aks within a mile of the launch 
d? And it’s an extremely satisfactory or- 
gasm. I mean, you are shaking and you do 
take leave of And there's 
something about the sound that comes 
ross the water. I understand 
that there are certain. frequencies with 
which you can make a person involun- 
varily shit w 1. So 
you in the guts. 

PLAYBOY: How long docs that last? 
VONNEGUT: Maybe a full minute. It was a 
night flight, so we were able to keep the 
thing in sight in а way that wouldn't have 
been possible in the daytime, So the sound 
seemed longer. But who knows? It’s like 
describing an automobile accident; you 
can't trust your memory. The light was 
tremendous and left afterimages in your 
eyes; we probably shouldn't have looked 
atit. 

PLAYBOY: How d 
you react? 
VONNEGUT: They were дада. They were 
scrogging the universe. And they were 


your senses, 


the people around 


sheepish and sort of smug afterward. You 
could see a message in their eyes, too: No 
body was to tell the outside world that 
VASA was running the goddamnedest 
massage parlor in history. When I got 
back to New York, I was talking to à cab- 
driver on the way in from the airport, He 
was talking about what I've always felt— 
thar the money should be spent on space 
when we can afford it. He wanted bener 
hospitals: he wanted better schools: he 
wanted a house for himself. He was it very 
decent guy; he was no fool at all. He was 
working 91 hours a day—at the post office 
from two in the morning until three in 
the afternoon, and then he started driv- 
g his cab. And, believe me, he knew 
there was nothing on the moon. If NASA 
were to give р to Cape Kennedy 
nd a pass to the VIP section or the press 
section for the next launch, he'd find out 
where the real goodies are. 
PLAYBOY- The Vietnam war has cost us 
even more than the space program. What 
do you think it's done to us? 
VONNEGUT: I's broken our hearts. Tt pr 
longed something we started to do to 
ourselves at Hiroshima 
tinuati : 
ruthless we are. And i way the 
illusion that we have some contol over 
our Government, I think we have lost 
control of our Government. Vicin: 
made it clear that the ordinary citizen 
had no way to approach his Governme 
not even by civil disobedience or by mass 
demonstration, The Government wasn't 
going to respond, no mauer what the 
citizen did. That was a withering lesson. 
A while ago, 1 met Hans Morgenthau a 
symposium at the United Nations and I 
g him that when I taught at 
1, the students could 
atifully but they had nothing to 
write about, Part of this is because we've 
learned over the past eight years that the 
Government will not respond to what we 
think and what we say. It simply is ne 
terested. Quite possibly, the Govern- 
ment has never been interested, but it 


na 


never made it so clear before that ou 
opinions don't matter. And Morgenthau 
was saying that he was about to start 


other book, but he was really wondering 
worth the trouble. If no- 
‚ why bother? It’s 


whether it wi 
body's paying attentioi 
a hell of а lot more fun to write а book 
that influences affairs in some way, that 
influences peoples thinking, But the 
President has made it perfectly clear tha 
he's insulated from such influences. 
PLAYBOY: What's your opinion of Nixon? 
VONNEGUT: Well, I don't il 
But I think he dislikes the 
people, and this depresses us. The Presi 
dent, particularly because of television, is 
in the position to be an extraord 
effective teacher, I don't know exactly 
how much Executive responsibility a 
President has, or how much the Govern- 
ment runs itself, but I do know that 1 


erican 


No woman ever says no to Winchester. 


Take a puff. Blow in her ear. And she'll follow 
you anywhere. Because опе whiff of Winchester's sexy 
aroma tells her everything she ever wanted to know 
about you. But was afraid to ask. It tells her youre a 
man, but a man of taste. A taste for mildness. Light- 
ness. She takes a puff. Winchesters filtered smoothness 
tells her it's not a cigarette. Not just another little cigar. 
Its a whole ‘nother smoke. And she knows that you 
know: where theres smoke, theres fire. 


Winchester. It's a whole ‘nother smoke. 


©1978 R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Co, 


20 LITTLE CIGARS. 


—n 


WI NCHESTER 


PLAYBOY 


7 


can influence our behavior for good and 
tremendously. Ш he teaches us some- 
thing tonight, we will behave according 
to that tomorrow. All he has to do is 
it on television, If he tells us about our 
neighbors in trouble, if he tells us to tr 
them better tomorrow, why, we'll all try. 
But the lessons Nixon has taught us hav 
been so mean, He's taught. us to resent 
the poor for not solving their own prob- 
lems. He's taught. us 10 like prosperous 
people better than unprosperous people. 
He could make us so humane and opt 
mistic with a single television appe 
He could teach us Confucianism 
PLAYBOY: Con 
VONNEGUT: How to be polite to onc 
er—no matter how angry or disapp 
we may be—how to respect the old. 
PLAYBOY: Humanity and optimism was 
the message that George McGovern was 
trying to get across. How do you account 
for his spectacular failure? 
VONNEGUT. He failed as an actor. He 
couldn't create oncamera а character we 
could love or hate. So America voted to 
have his show taken off the air. The Ame 
ican audience doesn't care about an ac- 
tor's private life, doesn't want his show 
continued simply because he’s honorable 
and truthful and has the best interests of 
the nation at heart in private life. Only 
one thing matters: Can he jazz us up or 
camera? This i nal 
course—that we've changed [rom a society 
to an audience. And poor McGovern did 
what any actor would have done with 
ing show. He blamed the scripts. 
lot of his old material, which 
Шу beautiful. called (от 
al, which was actually old. material that 
other performers had had some luck with. 
He probably couldn't have won, though, 
even if he had been Clark Gable. His op- 
ponent had too powerful an issue: the 
terror and guilt and hatred white people 
feel for the descendants of victims of a 
we committed not 
very. How's that for 
fiction? "There was this modern 
miry with а wonderful. Constitutio 
and it kidnaped human beings and used 
them as machines. It stopped it alter а 
while, but by then it had millions of de- 
scendants of those kidnaped people all 
over the country. What if they turned out 
to be so human that they wanted revenge 
of some kind? MeGovern’s opinion was 
that they should be treated like anybody 
else. It was the opinion of the white elec- 


an 


torate that this was a dangerous th 

to do. 

PLAYBOY: If you had been the Di 
cratic nominee, how would you have 
campaigned against Nixon 

VONNEGUT: | would have set the poor 
against the rich. 1 would have made the 
poor admit that they're poor. Archie 


Bunker has no sense of being poor, but 
he obviously is a frightened, poor man. 
I would convince Archie Bunker that he 


was poor and getting poorer, that the rul- 
ing class was robbing him and lying to 
him. I was invited to submit ideas to the 
McGovern campaign. Nothing was done 
with my suggestions. 1 wanted Sarg 
er io say, “You're not happy, are you 
body in this country is happy but the rich 
people. Something is wrong. ТЇЇ tell you 
whats wrong: We Were 
being kept apart [rom our neighbors. 
Why? Because the rich people ca 
taking our money away if we don't hang 
together. They can go on 
power away. They want us lonesome; they 
want us huddled in our houses with just 
our wives and kids, watching televisi 
because they can manipulate us then 
They сап make us buy anything 
can make 


the Gi 
We banded together. In those days, mem- 
bers of unions called cach other "brother 
ad sister,’ and they meant it, We're 
going to bring that spirit back. Brotha 
and sister! We're going to vote in George 
McGovern, and then we're going to get 
this country on the road again. We are go- 
ng to band together with our neighbors 
to clean up our neighborhoods, to get the 
crooks ont of the unions, to get the prices 
down in the meat markets. Here's a war 
«ry for the American people: “Lonesome 
no more!" Thats the kind of dema- 
goguery 1 approve ol. 
PLAYBOY: Do you consider yoursell a radi 
cal in any sense? 
VONNEGUT: No, because everything | be- 
lieve 1 was taught in junior civics dur- 
ng the Great Depression—at School 43 
in Indianapolis, with full approval of the 
school board. School 43 wasn't a ra 
school. 


stand y of just over a hundred 
and that the generals had 
ng to say about what was done in 
ngon. 1 was taught to be proud of 
t and to pity Europe lor haying more 
than a million men under arms and 
spending all their money on airplanes and 
tanks. I simply never unlearned junior 
civic. I still believe in it. D got а very 
good grade. 

PLAYBOY: A lot of young people sh 
those values with you. Do you think tl 
reason your books are so popular 
with them? 

VONNEGUT: It could be soi 
‚ but I truly don't know 
didn't go after the youth market or any 
ag like that. I didn't have my fingers on 
iting. Maybe it's 
al with sophomoric questions 
t full adults regard as settled. 1 talk 
God like, what could He 
nt, is there а heaven, and, if there is, 
what would it be like? This is what college 
sophomores 10; these are the ques- 
tions they enjoy having discussed. And 
more mature people find these subjects 


"EV 
thousand me 


noth 


very tiresome, as though they're seuled 
PLAYBOY: Isn't that u mature 
ironically? 


VONNEGUT: Not if you define mature as 

the way old people act. 

the way young people ас 

PLAYBOY: But these questions re 
to you. 


still entertainin; to 


I don't want to find out what 
so I can serve Him more efficiently, I 
don't want to find out what heaven is like 
so I can get ready for it. Thinking abi 
those things makes me laugh alter a while 
I enjoy k about them 
and 1 laugh. Fm not sure why. 

PLAYBOY. When did you start laughing 
about all u 


nk. I'd wonder what life was all about, 
and ГА hear what grownups had to say 
about it, and I'd laugh. I've often thought 
there ought to be a manual to hand to 
lite kids. telling them what kind of 
planet they're on, why they don't fall off 
it how much time they've probably got 
here, how to avoid poison ivy. and хо on 
1 tried to write one once. It was called 
Welcome to Earth. But 1 got stuck on 
explaining why we don't ful off the 
planet. Gravity is just a word. It doesn’t 
explain anything. If 1 could get past 
ity, I'd tell them how we reproduce, how 
long we've been here, apparently, and 
little bit about evolution. And one th 
I would really like to tell them about 
cultural relativity. I didn't learn until I 
was in college about all the other cultures, 
nd 1 should ned that in the first 
grade. A first grader should understand 
h onal inve 
that there are thousands of other cultures 
and they all work pretty well: that all cul- 
tures fu truth; 
that there are lots of alternatives to our 
own society. I didn’t find that out for sure 
11 was in the school of the 
o. It was terribly ex 
now cultural relativ- 
ity is lashionable—and that probably has 
something to do with my popularity 


nong young people. But it’s more than 
fashionable—its defensible, attractive. 
I's also a source of hope. It means we 


don’t have to continue this way il we 
don't like it. 

Whatever the reasons for 
rity, you've become 
з the past couple of y 
changed your lile much? 
VONNEGUT: The big probl 


your 
ely {л 


eni 
s. Has that 


m 
suppose 1 get about as much ma 


bout six letters а day. 1 get 
plenty of really thoughtful, charming let- 
ters. 1 keep me them, but 
then 1 realize ГЇ never have а chance 
So the stacks pile up—and they're all 
letters D mean to do something about. 
I thought 
I could use her to enormous 
(continued on puge 214) 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


A man with a special talent for making winning decisions. Whether he’s choosing a pretty tennis 
partner or selecting a magazine, his standards are the highest. That's why he's willing to pay full 
price for the one publication he prefers above all others. Fact: 7,000,000 copies of PLAYBOY are pur- 
chased for $1 per copy or $10 per year by readers who obviously pay full attention. Want a great 
return on your ad dollar? Play PLAYBOY — where the men are. (Source: A.B.C., December 31, 1972.) 


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


fiction By TOM MCHALE 


EE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS 


there onthe gangsters yacht—after а few murders, a suicide and 
a burial of racks—father martin finally lost his innocence 


RUNG орт ot Philadelphia in the sieck, gray Lincoln, Monsignor Martin de Porres Fisher crested the high point of 
the Ben Franklin Bridge and drove into the blinding rays of first dawn. In a moment, his welling spirit escaped the 
фит, was airborne. To an undertone of the Magnificat, it fled the long distance over land and sea to his favorite all- 
black beach in Jamaica, where he'd often lain naked and at peace, his relentless vigilance against the white world 
SS temporarily put aside. Then, almost instantly. be had to slow down and pull up at the toll booths on the Camden side 
of the viver. The fugue through the air, the flash of tropical-beach serenity vanished in banal, b. 
J, He fumbled awkwardly through the slit of his skintight, specially tailored cassock, groping in his pants pocket 
Lor change, шии the coll collector, obviously an Irishman, his brows knit in the consternation of needing to choose 
¢_ bewween the blackness of Martin de Porres Fisher and the splendid robes and hat of a monsignor, apparently opted 
Mor the latter and gave him the familiar wink. Martin passed through, smiling humbly, untaxed. At the traffic signals 
immediately beyond the booths, two Camden cops slid np beside him, stopped for a light and doffed their hats іп unì- 
sni after a moment of surveillance. Again Martin merely smiled his humble smile, nodded his head, then took off 
Stike a shot out of hell when the light changed, leaving the two hapless cops—fearing death abnormally as he knew 


1 considerations. 


PLAYBOY 


78 


cops always must—to suspect that he 
bore viaticum to the dying. 

He cruised at 90 all the way through 
the ugly Jersey Pine Barrens toward 
Beach Haven and the sparkling ocean, 
considering at one point along the way 
that it was thoughtful of Arthur Farri- 
gan to have waited until early October 
to kill himself. But Arthur, despite in- 
herent weaknesses, had been a somewhat 
humane, perceptive man, а point Mar- 
tin might eulogize if a eulogy were 
called for that morning before they 
dumped his weighted body into the At 
lautic. Arthur had understood the sea 
sonal ritual of a citys Catholics and 
struck himself down only when the mo- 
lu: after the return of Phila 
is from the shore, so that the 
summer sojourn of his wife and daugh- 
ters would not be ruined, so that th 
would not be an embarrassing dearth of 
mourners in а baking summer cathedral, 
so that his burial would fall upon 
day when everyone's hordes of children 
would be blessedly in school and his 
widow not responsible for а whopping 
caterers bill because of the 
feeding all those greedy, un 
Ue mouths that would tag along with 
their g parents. Yes, in some 
ways Arthur 1 exceptional 
man. Very hum 

At Beach Haven, less than an 
fom his apartme island. virt 
empty now in the face of impending 
winte run drove to the bayside 
dock where Emilio Serafina's enormous 


ment wits 
delph 


sorrow 


yacht, the Stella Maris. was tied up and 
its burden out to se: 

n, ng near the gorgeous 
shimmering white<nd-teakwood vessel, 


felt the first pangs of apprehension for 
that day. Serafina, rich from construc- 
tion, the rackets and Lord knew what 
else, was, after a fashion understood but 
never defined, in de Porres Fisher’ 
godfather 
Martin so loved belonged 10 
was merely on loan. His apartme 
appointed, made to look like а car- 
nal's chambers, had been furnished by 
Serafina’, His casocks aud vost 
15 came. from Italy via that. family. 


When he chanced to say Mass in the ca 
thedial, splendid as а peacock, his tall, 
thin. light-colored extraordinary hand- 


someness (as he knew) decked ош in 
the gold-threaded finery conceived and 
executed thousands of miles away by lit- 
ue old Iralian ladies, the Serafinas wer 
often. present. To see what they h 
wrought: They were proud of the 
monsignore пето. 

But lately Martin had come to suspect 
that perhaps the car would be recalled 
ive overhaul. For the 
carly September, 
g to olliciate 
at and- 
daughter, an event that took place only 
four months after the monsignor had 


id 


married Serafina’s daughter to а terri- 
fied young man who had been made to 
understand only at the very last e 
whose offspring he had been screw 
It was not that. Martin was overcome by 
moral scruple, though he made Serafina 
think it was so, the better to control the 
moguk The Lord knew young people 
made mista 
taken it to an abortionist. No, it was 
simply that after а hot and tiring sum- 
mer, during which he was overworked 


the chancery, amd growing al at 
his burgeoning fondness lor cooking gin 
nd tonic, he felt he could not once 
again face the prospect of all those thou- 

sands of sweaty Italians gathered for a 
bacchanalia on the lawn of 

great estate in Pleasantvill 

singing, cating and drinking, pressing 


forward their look-alike children for the 
monsignore nero's blessing, then casing 
sly, unsolicited envelopes of gratitude 
into his pockets. (He had deared over 
55000 at the wedding, most of which he 

nt to his Вари i 
trying to buy, as it were, her forgiveness 
for the travesty of his conversion to 
Roman Catholicism. But an old won 
stern and full of black prejudices, she re- 
fused to see what a good thing he had 
lacked into.) And he knew the chris 
tening would be the wedding again, 
twice over: For Serafina, a man of undeni- 
ble purpose. meant to simply obliterate 
ggering over the moral lassitude 
his daughter, burying it beneath 
the awesome magnificence of the 
But as the event drew пе 
ought of it. graphic in detail, until it 
produced cold swears. On the morning 
he awoke whimpering from the night 
mare that he had been blinded by the 
fire of the sun itself, trapped in the bur- 
hed slab sides of acres upon carefully 
parked acres of the guests’ Cadillacs and 
Imperials, he had opted for | 
quiet beach, his secret nakedness. 

Now he exited the car, g 
at it for an ins 
be his last trip, before he dared look up 
at Serafina, His her stood on the 


nt to 


enormous and stern in his айан admi- 
val’s uniform, framed by his three burly 
crew members, Sicilians from. Palermo 
ike Tico, Rico and Chico, 
Martin de Porres Fisher could 
ur and to whom he bad 


whom 
never tell a 
given, for his own purposes of identifica- 


tion, the names Niña, d Santa 
María. But, like their admiral, they now 
stared fiercely down nd Martin 
knew he was in the doghouse for sure. 
Desperate to save the Lincoln, he 
thought he saw the way. He paused f 
a long moment before the yachts bow, 
staring fixedly at the five-foot figure- 
head of the Virgin. He bent his head. 
the: ave the boat it 
п. When he looked 


praying deeply. 
faultless. benedic 


up, Serafina, uncertain now, had re- 
moved his Der hat and stood 
crossing himself. Nina, Pinta and Santa 
be E 
ceptible to flattery than anyone Martin 
had ever met, was also more terrified of 
dying. He would not dare forgo the 
blessing of his yacht: He loved the sca, 
gloried i his gilded possession that 
glided so majestically over its surface. but 
had never learned to swim. Martin de 
Porres Fisher moved slowly toward the 
gangplank, hoping the yacht would not 
plummet to the bottom because of his 


sacrilege. At the top, Serafina stood 
waiting for him. 
Ammiraglio . . ." Martin crooned 
humbly, imploring forgiveness. 
“Monsignore 7 serafina chided 
softly, his arms flying open. They ¢ 


changed the kiss of peace (the whole 
universe seemed to sigh in relief) with 
the nameless fondness that Martin had 
long ago decided perhaps only а gang- 
ster and his priest cam have for each 
other: 

"Come, Monsignore, to the rear deck. 
We'll have а little breakfast before the 
others arrive. Café et croissants,” he 
called to the cook who shoved his head 
through the galley opening. "Also cat- 
fish steaks and mart 


Binky Applebaum, the Beach Haven 
lifeguard captain—whom Martin dut 
fully presamed he would be marrying 
combination with a rabbi to dead Ar 
thur Farragan's widow after a discreet 
time of mourning—was next to arrive. 
He pulled up beside the gray Lincoln 
his Toyota, carefully lockimg the ca 
whisking specks of dust, imagined or 
real, from its roof. He waved toward the 
admiral and the monsignor. then started 
aboard 
“A little weddi 
you think, for our 
fina chanced. 

“L have heard it 
Ammiraglio, ihat our fr 
impotent. He c 
summate a n е 

Ol-hoho-ho! Ha-hahaha! 
howled out his pleasure. His 
ripped off the morning stillness, sent sca 
gulls flapping off the pier piling 
tin looked at him questioningly, naïveté, 
practiced art, written all aver his face. 
"And who was it that said it all those 
times, Monsignore? |t was Binky him 
sel! And always in front of the hus 
bands on the weekends!" Serafina was 
in hysterics now, tears rolling down his 
е, slappin ms on his knees. 


Monsignore, do 
епа Binky?” Sera 


aid n times, 
d Binky is an 
uld not, apparently. con 


He loved a good cuckolding as long as 
it came nowhere near Serafina. "Oh, 
id in a 


g shock, so that Se 
" stopped. la 
On the instar 

(continued он page 100) 


uncertain 
bruptly. 


deve At RE 


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2 3 = 
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í е Уа, 

HLS 4 я) 
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Dedia ы х ۶ : 


“You'll love this restaurant. It features the very 
best in authentic Oriental cuisine.” 


78 


NO mm m 


THE DAY 
BOBBY 
BLEW IT 


personality By BRAD DARRACH trying to get the nervous mr. fischer 
onto that plane to iceland was like a keystone comedy with a script by kafka 


оввү FISCHER heard a knock at the door. It was sometime after ten A-M., 
Thursday, June 29, 1972. Three days before the first game of his match 
with Boris Spassky for the world chess championship. Eleven hours be- 
fore the plane left for Iceland. Five nights in a row, he had been booked 
on a northbound planc and five nights in а row he had not shown. Now 
time was running out. He had to take this flight. He couldn't fly tomor- 


row night, because the Sabbath began at sundown om Friday aud for 
religious reasons he couldn't fly on the Sabbath. That left Saturday night: yet if 
he flew up on Saturday night, he would arrive on Sunday morning dog-tired from the 


trip just a few hours before the game began. So it was tonight or never. But he didn't 
want to think about that right now. He wanted to rest up. He had slept 20 hours 
since arriving in New York about 36 hours before; but even so, he kept slipping 
deeper into exhaustion. 

The knock was repeated. It couldn't be the chambermaid. He had hung а ро wor 
DISTURE sign on his doorknob. Who else? Only his lawyer and a few friends knew he was 
staying at the Yale Club. 

“Package for Mr. Fischer,” a male voice called. 

Looking vague and unready, Bobby opened the door and peered out, expecting to 
see a Yale Club employee. Instead, he saw a short, heavy-set, middle-aged man in street 
clothes. Startled, Bobby started to close the door. The man blocked it with his foot. 

“Excuse me, Mr. Fischer,” he began smartly. A younger man moved in behind him. 
Bobby's eyes went wi 

"Who are you?" he asked in alarm. "What do you want?" 

Keeping his foot firmly in the door, the first intruder said he was a British journalist 
and wanted an interview. A journalist! The match hadn't even begun and already the 
press was hounding him! Bobby angrily ordered them to leave. The man with his foot in 
the door smiled and kept trying to wheedle an interview. Suddenly the stalemate was bro- 
ken. A husky young fellow named Jackie Beers, who was visiting Bobby, strode to the door 
and with one strong shove sent the reporter reeling. Bobby slammed the door. Minutes 
later he was on the phone to one of his lawyers, Andrew Davis. "Don't leave the room,” 
Davis told him firmly. “Someone will come to you as quickly as possible.” Later Davis told 
me: “Bobby was scared. You could hear it in his voice. At а moment when he couldn't 
stand the slightest shock, he got a bad onc. I guess the shock triggered it.” What the shock 
triggered was the wildest day in the world of chess since а Danish earl outplayed King 
Canute and was hacked to hamburger by His Majesty's bullyboys. 


1 was 2600 miles northeast of the Yale Club when the crisis broke. I was in Reykjavik, 
Iceland, waiting for Bobby to fly up for the match. Spassky was waiting, too—he had 
arrived eight days before—and so were 140-150 newspaper, magazine and television 
reporters from at least 32 countries. They were getting damn tired of waiting, in fact, 
and the stories out of Reykjavik were reflecting their irritation 

Why was Bobby dragging his heels? Without ever talking to him, most reporters 
assumed that since money was the main thing he was demanding of the Icelandic Chess 


ILLUSTRATION BY SHAWN E. SHEA 


81 


PLAYBOY 


82 


Federation, money was the main thing on 
his mind. “Greedy little punk” and 
“spoiled brat” began to be muttered over 
typewriters and the public bought what 
it was told. “Is it really possible,” a British 
correspondent asked me indignantly at 
breakfast Thursday moi ig, "that this 
yahoo is going to stand us all up? Either 
he's the smartest little bugger that ever 
came out of Brooklyn or he's some sort of 
nut. He devotes his whole life to chess 
and then turns up his nose at the world 
chess championship. He grows up in a 
slum and then walks away from mil- 
lions. Does he want money or doesn't he 
want money? 1 just can't believe what's 
happening!” 

Nobody could. And nobody could be- 
lieve that the most recondite of games, an 
intellectual sport about as popular as dif- 
ferential calculus, was making front-page 
headlines day after day; that half the 
world was waiting breathlessly for two 
young men to sit down on a solitary butt 
of lava in the North Atlantic and push lit- 
tle wooden soldiers across a miniature 
make believe battlefield. The pundits ex- 
plained that there was more to the match 
than chess. It was a war in effigy between 
two superpowers, the U.S. and the 
U. S. S. R. It was a chance to watch Russia 
lose the championship for the first time 
in 24 years and a chance to watch America 
win it for the first timc in history. But 
what more than anything else had 
gripped us all was the downright weird 
personality and approximately superhu- 
man achievements of Bobby Fischer. 

In chess circles, Bobby had been a 
celebrity for 15 years, ever since he won 
the U.S. chess championship at the in- 
credible age of 14, but only in the past 14 
months had the larger public become 
aware of him. In May 1971 he defeated 
Grand Master Mark Taimanov of the So- 
viet Union, 6-0, the first shutout in more 
than half a century of recorded grand- 
master play. He repeated the shutout 
against a much more dangerous oppo- 
nent, Grand Master Bent Larsen of Den- 
mark. Then in Buenos Aires in October 
1971, he gave a 6/4-2, thrashing to Rus- 
sia's Tigran Petrosian, a former world 
champion and, while he was at it, extend- 
ed his winning streak to 21 games—the 
longest in chess history and one more 
than chess officials gave him credit for. 
The media decided they had better take a 
good close look at what they had here. 

What the press had, or decided to say it 
had, was something known for more than 
a decade to his jealous rivals as “the 
monster": Bobby was often discussed as 
a sort of paranoid monomaniac who was 
terrified of girls and Russian spies but 
worshiped money and Spiro Agnew, аз 
a high school dropout with a genetic 
kink who combined the general culture of 
a hard-rock deejay with a genius for spa- 
tial thinking that had made him quite 
possibly the greatest chess player of all 


time. The monster was at best a car- 
icature of Bobby, but he sure made 
terrific copy. 

Obligingly, he made terrific copy all 
through the spring of 1972. First he 
refused to play Spassky where the 
Fédération Internationale des Echecs 
(F.LD.E.) told him he had to play— 
half the match in Yugoslavia. half in Ice- 
land. Ultimatums crackled across the 
Atlantic. Finally Yugoslavia withdrew, 
blaming Bobby's unreliability, and the 
whole match was ceded to Iceland. But at 
that point Bobby boggled at “burying” 
the contest in such a tiny and “primitive” 
country and he complained about the 
financial terms, too—even though the 
$195,000 prize money was already ten 
times as high as any prize ever put up for 
a chess match. When the Icelanders, after 
a public outcry against the "arrogant 
Fischer." swallowed their pride and met 
his demands, Bobby madc new demands. 
When the Icelanders rejected his new 
demands, Bobby suddenly disappeared, 
Теп days before the match was scheduled 
to begin, nobody east of Los Angeles, 
not even his own lawyer, knew where 
he was. 


On Monday, June 26, the day after he 
was supposed to arrive in Iceland, 1 called 
Bobby in California, hoping to cut 
through the contradictions and get my 
own impression of what he was thinking. 
Igot a number of surprises. 

“Hi, Brad! How ya doin'?" I had ex- 
pected what I usually heard when Bobby 
picked up the phone: a faint, suspicious 
"Uuuuh?" that might mean hello or 
might be just electric clutter on the linc. 
But this voice was startlingly rich and full 
and confident. 

Like a kid calling home and wishing he 
were there, he wanted to know everything 
about Reykjavik. Did I like the playing 
hall? Was it quiet? What was the chess 
table like? How about the weather? “Sixty 
degrees! Wow! That's coooold!" But the 
air was great, huh? “How about that 
skyr they got? Better'n yoghurt, huh?" 

Then he wanted to know how Spassky 
looked. "Nervous," Е told him, and he 
guffawed. "And Geller——" 1 began, in- 
tending to say something about Yefim 
Geller, Spassky's second. 

Bobby cut in fast. “Geller,” he said dis- 
gustedly, “is stupid!” 

Then it happened. “Geller,” we both 
heard а woman's voice say, in what was 
obviously an Icelandic attempt to mimic 
Bobby's Brooklyn accent, "is stupid!” 

I heard Bobby gasp. Suddenly he 
went ape. “They're listening in on my 
calls!” he yelled. “I knew it! They got 
spies on the linc! Did you hear that? 
"They got spies on the line!" His voice, 
so warm and vital a second before, kicked 
up one register and jangled like an alarm 
clock. Then anger came into it as the 
fright wore off. “That rotten little coun- 


uy! Call the manager, Brad! Call the 
head of the telephone company! 1 want 
that person found and fired! . . . Imag 
ine that! Listening in on my phone 
calls! It could be the Russians, y'know? 
They got Communists in the government 
up there. They'll do anything to find out 
what I'm thinking!” The idea amused 
him and he slowly relaxed. 

the receiver, 1 thought 
I've just been talk- 
ing to two Bobbys. The happy, healthy, 
California Bobby has decided to play. 
But the other Bobby, the Bobby who 
thinks Iceland is eavesdropping on his 
phone calls, could still take over and in a 
moment of fury destroy the match. Which 
Bobby are we going to get?” 

Dr. Anthony Saidy is one of the more 
gifted and appealing members of Bob- 
by's coterie. He looks like a mad scientist 
in a comic book. His head is large, wide at 
the temples, curiously dished in at the 
back and covered with mounds of bluc- 
black hair. His nose is an angry hook and 
his eyes, the color of black coffee, bulge 
and glitter. His credentials аге impres- 
sive. He is an M.D. and a strong chess 
player (he once won the American Open 
Championship) and the author of a first- 
rate book on chess strategy. Yet the min- 
ute he begins to talk, he reveals himself as 
a diffident man, with an anxious need to 
please. But there is something deter- 
mined and even daring about Saidy, too. 
In the summer of "72, at the age of 35, he 
made the gutsy decision to stop practicing 
medicine and establish himself as a chess- 
master and free-lance writer 

Like many of Bobby's friends, Saidy 
can't quite manage to be himself in Bob. 
by's company. He has hitched his wagon 
to a star and sometimes he seems afraid he 
Imigh miss the ride. He seems to feel that 
in order to keep Bobby's friendship he 
must agree with almost everything Bobby 
says. At times, in his anxiety to ma 
the relationship, he actually encourages 
Bobby in his aberrations. 1 don't think he 
means to. He is honest and loyal and his 
aim is always to bring his friend back to 
good sense and his own best interests. 

Saidy is a New Yorker, but he was 
working for the Los Angeles Health De- 
partment when Bobby showed up in 

stay with some fricnds. 
ing him every couple of 
days. Like most of Bobby's California 
friends, he was appalled to see no moves 
being made in the direction of Iceland as 
the date of the match drew near. So on 
Sunday, Junc 25, Saidy called and said 
casually that he would be flying East on 
“Tuesday to sce his father, who was ill, and 
wouldn't Bobby maybe like to come 
along? “Yeah, might as well,” Bobby said 
vaguely. “Be nice to have company on 
the plane.” Saidy said he had “a strange 

(continued on page 150) 


last of the farrows 


IF WE Hap to sum up the beauty of Tisa Farrow in 
а word, there'd be one that applied more than all 
others. The dictionary defines wistful as “full of um _ 
fulfilled longi g ог desire,” and if the images of _ 


the lady, it’s that een 
gible something cluding her. 

‘people are always comparing me with 
Mia. But she's far more ambitious—and 


eae these q 
director James B. Harris to cast 
love interest in his newest film, 
an allegory about а youn 

the sleeping beauty who 


ме learned to live 
the accusation 

that | get movie parts 
only because I'm Mi 
Farrow’s sister. But 
those who say that 
don't knaw what they're 
talking about. A pro- 
ducer doesn’t hire an 
actress unless he 
feels he has samething 
to gain by her pres- 
ence ond, especially 
since all my roles 
hove been leads, I 
believe that if | perfarm 
badly, na nome on 
earth is going to save 
me—or my producer. 
Besides, people aren't 
going to jam box 
offices to see Mia's 
sister. | would hape 
they'd came to see mo." 


As Some Coll it 
Loving opens, Tisa, 

as Jennifer, ic а 
sleeping becury at a 
carnival. The awner- 
barker invites the 
young men of the 
village to try to kiss 

her owake (top 

right) for а nominal 
charge. One night, о 
rich young man (Zalman 
King) enters the cor- 
nival tent and decides 
to buy the beauty 
away. Atter he takes 
her home, he discovers 
Jennifer has been 
drugged and helps her 
regoin consciousness 
(center). Loter, King's 
mistress (right) entices 
the girl into an erotic 
tango as King looks on. 


‘There are lots of people who keep telling me | could hove o 
career os on actress if | wanted it. The trouble is, | hoven't found o 
need in myself thot could be fulfilled by acting. Not yet, onywoy.” 


JESUS 


a 


“HEM. 


strange doings in 
Dui the lord 
delivers hip parables, 
his apostles cry up a storm 
while judas pouts in sullen 
silence—ts there no 
balm in gilead? 


article 


BY NIK COHN 


caves, where the apostles and their women were performing a dance routine. 
‘The atmosphere inside was rank and airless, the heat was murderous. After half 
an hour, half-choked by dust, 1 came stumbling out into the sunlight and fell asleep 
beneath an olive tree, dreaming of Gadarene swine. When I awoke 1 saw a figure 
perched motionless on a rock above me, a small man in a coarse white robe, with a cas- 
sette recorder pressed against his ear. For some moments he gazed blankly at the hori- 
zon, lost in the music, and then he came down slowly toward me, to crouch beside me 
in the dirt. His beard was silky, his eyes full of light. "You must be Jesus," I said. 
ure am,” he replied, and J shook his hand. We ate shriveled olives and he nod- 
ime with the songs, sandals tapping. When the Stones became sugges- 
„ however, he turned the volume down. 
‘What docs it feel like?” I asked him. “I mean, to be the Son of God?" 

The small man considered carefully. Lizards scurried by his feet and he stared 
into infinity. “Outasight,” he said at last. “It's really a far-out wip.” 

When John Lennon said in 1966 that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus 
Christ, one could hardly have conceived how soon and how directly he'd be given 
the lie. Yet Jesus Christ Superstar, in three years, has grossed somewhere between 
$50,000,000 and $80,000,000 and is currently hotter than the Beatles, The Rolling Stones 
and any half dozen other rock groups put together. Variety calls it “the biggest all 
media parlay in show-business history"; Time simply calls it "Gold Rush to Golgotha.” 

А movie—a major motion picture—was inevitable. Yet, Hollywood's enthusiasm 
has been tempered by considerable caution. Film executives still look on rock (and on 
youth) with deepest distrust. Occasionally, it has made their fortune; much more 
often, it has showered them with offal. So these days they tend to hover desperately on 
the fringes, like so many dirty raincoats lurking outside a clip joint. They know. of 
course, that they're bound to get sucked in sooner or later, yet they can't stop whec- 
dling for discounts and guarantees, in case the bar girls turn sour on them. 

Universal Pictures, having bought the rights to Superstar, promptly began to do 
the crab walk. It restricted the budget to $3,000,000, which for a Hollywood musical is 
peanuts, and it stocked the cast with virtual unknowns. Originally, Mick Jagger had 
been proposed as a possible Jesus. So had Lennon, Elvis Presley and, unimaginably, 
David Cassidy. But the part went to Teddy Neeley from Ranger, Texas, “for an 
undisclosed fce," as one apostle put it, “rumored to run into three figures.” 

‘The producer and director was Norman Jewison. whose last picture had been Fid- 
dler on the Roof. That probably made him the most reliable profit maker in Holly- 
wood. He had made Jn the Heat of the Night, The Cincinnati Kid, The Thomas 
Crown Affair and The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming. 

His interest in Superstar went back almost to its inception. Long before it became 
successful, someone had sent him the original album. Straightaway, he was hooked: 
“Without doubt a unique statement for our age,” he said, with reflex overkill. “Possi- 
bly not a masterpiece. At certain moments pretentious, at others naive and superficial. 
Nevertheless, a major breakthrough, an original and unforgettable vision.” 

Reverence ran deep. No true child of Hollywood can ever resist the lure of the 
religioso. So Jewison filled his script with symbolism, spoke with awe of The Greatest 
Story Ever Told and, incvitably, chose to film in Israel—or rather, as he never failed 
to call it, the Holy Land. 

“Piety,” Orson Welles once said, “is a showbiz term of unknown origin, meaning 
money.” In Jewison's case, however, the common rule came unstuck. He meant 
to make enormous profits, of course, and was prepared to be ruthless in pursuit of 
them. But there was no mistaking the missionary glint in his eye. He clearly had his 
sights set on Art: ^A total experience,” he said. "Truth, meaning and beauty." 

Most of the cast were Superstar veterans, selected from various American stage 
versions. Judas was a big black stud named Carl Anderson from Washington; Mary 
Magdalene, played by Yvonne Elliman, was a surfer's dream from Hawaii; Herod was 
Joshua Mostel, Zero's son. As for the others—apostles, Romans, whores—one half 
looked like refugees from Hair and the rest like dropouts from The Boys in the Band. 

On the whole, they were not respectful. Superstar was an experience that they'd 
already been through and, frankly, they were bored. Sated with solemnity, they wanted 
to get back to good hard rock and goof off again, get stoned onstage, boogie. So they 
went into the film for the exposure and the bread, but they groused behind their 
hands: “The vehicle," said the incarnation of Saint James the Elder, “is bullshit.” 

Israel changed that. On the road in America they had merely been performers. 
But the moment they arrived in the actual setting, they began to mesh with ti 
roles. Bypassing the opera, they went directly back to the source, to the original 
Gospels. Superstar became irrelevant. Now it was Christ himself who concerned them. 

Thus, a couple of days before filming began, Saint Bartholomew and Saint James 
walked out together into the desert and sat down on a rock. All afternoon they 
squatted cross-legged and did not move or speak. For hour after hour they watched 
the shepherds tending their flocks, the olive trees, the scrub, the ageless stone. Nothing 
had changed here for 2000 years; possibly nothing ever would. Time was meaningless: 


Tz MILES OUTSIDE JERUSALEM I was taken into a labyrinth of underground 


DESIGNED BY FRED NELSON/PHOTOGRAPHED BY DON AZUMA 


PLAYBOY 


90 


Afternoon moved slowly into twilight and 
оп into night, heat faded into cool, and 
still they did, 

When at last they returned to them- 
selves, they found their faces wet with 
tears. 


Jewison is a stocky, sun-browned Ca- 
nadian in his middle 40s. He has been 
making films, first for TV and then for 
Hollywood, for 20 years and therefore 
is rarely to be scen without a fat cigar, 
which he smokes in the style of Ed Begley. 
all puff and no drag. 

On the set he invariably wore shorts 
and a battered old bush hat, so that he 
looked like a reject from a B-feature 
thriller, set in the Australian outback, 
who had wandered into Superstar by ac- 
cident. А grizzled, nuggety gold pros- 
pector, perhaps, or a cranky mule driver. 
А character role. at any rate. with plenty 
of scope for excess: “I'm a ham," he 
said, "1 can't help it—audiences are my 
lifeblood.” 

He сап sniff out a journalist or a pro- 
spective Boswell at 50 yards and imme- 
diately, in the very instant of recognition, 
is overwhelmed by rhetoric. Ask him а 
question and his eye becomes a beacon, 
his cigar begins to belch forth smoke like 
а factory chimney and out gush anecdotes 
in a torrent. Reminiscences, parables, 
apocryphal fables of vintage Hollywood, 
all as dazzling and as dubious as the se- 
quins on a Bluebell girl. 

Even more than yarn spinning, how- 
ever, he is addicted to profundity. Touch 
on any of the great flowerpots at random 
—art, religion, love, life or death—and 
you are immediately engulfed in proverb 
and portent. Thus, when Barry Dennen, 
alias Pontius Pilate, came to Jewison be- 
tween takes and asked his advice on some 
small point of interpretation, he did not 
reply at once but creased his face like an 
accordion, puffed three mighty puffs on 
his cigar and, finally, raised a solemn fore- 
finger. "Just remember this,” he sai 
"Whatever you do, however you play it: 
Unto thine own self be true.” 


Now Jewison stood framed in left pro- 
file. Silhouctted against the first glow of 
sunset, he crinkled his eyes and flung his 
arm out across the valley below. "There are 
kids down there in tears,” he said. “Why? 
‘There are grown men breaking down and 
bawling, there are cameramen and grips 
and hard-boiled pros who've been in this 
business for twenty years and don’t give а 
fuck for anyone or anything and ай of 
them are crying. Why? Jesus is crying, 
Judas is crying, all the apostles are just 
wiped out. Why? They didn't cry in Lon- 
don. They didn't cry in New York or Los 
Angeles; they didn't cry in Hoboken. So 
tell me, why are they crying now? Why?" 
Everyone looked blank. The assistant 
director, the production supervisor and 
the unit publicist crowded in close, like 


Los Angeles Rams in a huddle, waiting to 
be instructed, but Jewison took his ume. 
“Why?” he asked again and, noticing 
that his cigar had gone out, paused until 
the assistant director relit it. Fat Israelis 
were swilling out latrines in the back- 
ground. Extras straggled past, holding 
hands and snuffling. The valley turned 
purple. "Because we're here," said Jewi- 
son suddenly. “That’s why." 

"Because we're here," echoed the pro- 
duction supervisor, and he looked pro- 
found. Clearly, he was troubled. So were 
the others. 

But Jewison was triumphant. “Right,” 
he roared. “Because we're here. Because 
it’s the Holy Land. Because we're all in 
this simple valley. just us and the olive 
wees, the mules, the mountains above. 
Because it’s real.” 

His cohorts began to catch the drift. 
“Because it's real," intoned the assistant 
director and he beamed at the unit publi- 
cist, who beamed right back and said, 
“Because we're here.” 

Soon the mood became frankly celeb- 
ratory. "Reality," declared Jewison. "No 
studios, no faking, no bullshit. Only the. 
rock and the sand and the sky. Only 
the truth." 

Inspired, he half-turned and looked di- 
rectly down into the valley at a small 
patch of vivid green grass, especially 
flown in from England, because there 
isn't much green grass in this part of 15- 
rael. Saint Peter sat crosslegged beneath 
a tree, reading The Autobiography of a 
Yogi; Saint John was writing home to his 
mother; Saint Bartholomew was busily 
goosing Saint Thaddeus with an olive 
branch. “Reality,” said Jewison one last 
time and, clambering imo his Jaguar, 
he was driven off into the sunset. 

"The crying, once launched, did not cas- 
ily let up. The apostles and most of the 
cast cried when Jesus got the shits and 
had to rush for the sanctuary of the honey 
wagon; they cried when Judas turned 
nasty and raised his voice to them; most 
of all, they cried when they saw them- 
selves on the rushes. “Very emotional 
boyos, these." said the Irish chief caterer. 
“Thank the Lord Гуе got plenty of spare 
buckets.” Several times, at the end of a 
take, Jesus and Judas capsized sobbing in 
each other's arms. Then Jewison j 
them for a choked embrace. Within sec- 
onds, the set was awash. Gradually, even 
the technicians and the extras were 
snared. By the end of the third week, the 
unit nurse was so deeply moved by the 
sight of a young Arab boy picking flowers 
that she fell over a small stone wall and 

rained her wrist. 

Along with the general gush 
while, a macabre little charade began to 
unfold. The aposdes had apparently 
identified themselves so utterly with their 
roles that they began to look on Teddy 


Neeley as though he were, indeed, the 
Messiah. They followed him everywhere, 
took him food and drink, massaged his 
neck when he was weary, carried his bur- 
dens when he felt depressed and, of 
course, bathed him with their tears 
whenever the script made him suffer. 

Undoubtedly, he was a gentle and sym- 
pathetic spirit, а very nice man. Still. to 
the outsider, such worship was startling. 
No matter, worship him they did: 
“Would I give up my life for him?" asked 
Saint James rhetorically. "Who сап 
know such things? But 1 would fight for 
him, Га even put up with loss and abuse 
for him. Why? Because he is warm and 
tender and good. Because, if Christ were 
alive today. he would be someone like 
"Teddy Necley.” 

‘Teddy, it must be said, neither encour- 
aged nor discouraged all this. He was 
altogether too polite ever to propose him- 
self as the Godhead. On the other hand, 
the journey from Ranger to Calvary had 
taken him 15 scuflling years and he 
wasn't about to blow his ticket. He had 
spent three years playing Saturday-night 
dances in Palo Pinto County, six more on 
the road to Los Angeles and whole eter- 
nities in Vegas, or in warmup bands 
for Opry tours, or singing suppertime 
schlurp at the Cocoanut Grove. He had 
cracked up in Hollywood, broken down 
in Hawaii and his first gig in Superstar. 
оп Broadway, had been as an understudy. 
Now he was Jesus Christ: “the big cheese 
himself,” as Jewison put it, and who 
could blame him if he wore his robes in 
the shower or made a few ambiguous 
passes with his finger tips? “I know what 
1 am," he said. “Others can see what 
they choose.” 

Big black Judas, inevitably, caught the 
backlash. Jesus liked him fine, but the 
apostles ran away every time he ар- 
proached. “Rough, tough and bad,” said 
Saint Bartholomew. “Just looking at him 
is enough to make you cream. Now you 
tell те, honey, who wants to cream at a 
time like this?" 

Judas was not unduly distressed. 
tion suited him. Intensely compet 
implausibly handsome, he had brisk < 
tempt for mass o; n and locked him. 
self up every night in his hotel bedroom. 
“People are a pain in the ass," he said, 
"and nice, well-meaning people are the 
biggest pain of all." 

Nonetheless, like Jewison, he was a 
compulsive performer and, while on the 
set, he played at Captain Superspade, all 
soul handshakes and funky little finger 
pops, eye rollings, mouth gapings and 
splutters of dirty laughter. He had enor- 
mous presence and, undoubtedly, was 
going to be a star. Kids adored him, so did 
the Israelis and so, of course, did women. 
Soon he built up a following all his own. 
a group of ples, who idolized him. 
as much as the Sud idolized Jesus. 

(continued on page 200) 


isola- 
ive, 


92 


observation deck of the S.S. France. The panorama has 
been spoiled by the two obscene supertowers of the 
World Trade Center, but I didn’t mind. I've been 
happy aboard ships ever since a summer day in the 
‘Twenties when I sailed from Bordeaux to New York as 
the impecunious fiddler in the three-man ship's orches- 
tra on the tiny La Bourdonnais—a poor French Line 
relation of which the France would be ashamed today. 
The France is the flagship, the world's longest liner— 
1035 feet—and most luxurious. Her crew of 1100 in- 
cludes 19 musicians, each playing several instruments. 
"Times have changed. 

Nowadays I travel as a (nonworking) passenger, but. 
it’s still an adventure and the only civilized way of 
going. Airplanesand railroads are often useful but rare- 
ly pleasant. You don't expe« something wonderful to 
happen as you board them; on planes you worry wheth- 
er you'll get there. But aboard ship you сап be sur- 
rounded by people in the discothéque or meditating 
blissfully in your stateroom. For a few days, you feel out 
of this world, living the life you always wanted to live: 
The dream has come true. Peace and privacy—today's 
great luxuries—and maybe a little caviar at night. 
Unlimited freedom or splendid isolation. 

On a spiritual level, something strange and confusing 
happens to many people as the rhythm of the big boat 
catches up with them. The pace slackens. The first day 
out you are still a prisoner of the past. The shipto- 
shore phone or the radio operator may catch up with 
you. It was better in the old days, when no one would 
try to reach me while I fiddled in the Red Sea on our 
way to Indochina. No union, no fixed working hours, 
no uniform. I worried a litle whether my violin would 
survive the heat; there was no air conditioning. (One 
night I forgot to put it away in the refrigeration cham- 
ber, and in the morning I found a few pieces of lac- 
quered wood in my violin case. The glue had melted 
and the fiddle had come apart. I bought one in Dji- 
bouti that was nailed together, and sounded that way.) 

Around the third day of the crossing, the past is dis- 
carded with the garbage that they throw out to the sea 
gulls. Resistance ceases: Subconsciously, one surrenders 
to the unreality of life aboard ship, happily suspended 
in a seeming vacuum of euphoria as the gravitational 
pulls from both continents cancel each other out. One 
no longer thinks of what was and not yet of what will 
be. Decisions and duties are mercifully postponed. A 
new pattern of pseudo life emerges. One gets interested 
in the vagaries of wind and weather (will the rough sea 
spoil dinner tonight?), the ping-pong tournament, how 
to work up an appetite between meals, what to eat 
without gaining weight, the temperature of the water in 
the swimming pool. Some males are beginning to look 
at the apparently unescorted blonde. I am pleased to 
notice that two definitely unescorted brunettes give me 
that maybe look, even though (and perhaps because) 
my hair is what they call silvery at the temples. 

We've passed the point of no return. We are in the 
middle of the ocean, spiritually weightless, uncon- 
cerned about the realities on either end. Temporarily, 
I've lost my identity; I haven't felt so contented in a 
long time. Some people don't read even the news in the 
ship's paper, L'Atlantique. Cold-blooded speculators 
ignore the stock-market reports on the bulletin board. 
Other things have become more important. Should one 


have a bloody mary or a bullshot before lunch, or maybe 
а Ferner-Branca with а drop of crème de menthe? The 
best thing against the mal de mer is alcohol, straight 
But then, according to Henri Delaude, the barman, the 
mal de mer doesn't exist. The Texas billionaire won 
the ship's pool, naturally, and he is happy about the $90 
he made. Lunch was wonderful. The pleasure of choos- 
ing from the enormous, unpriced menu. No check—no 
bills, no boss, по dentist, no income tax. Everything 
free: life and love and the view from the sun deck. 

You no longer wonder why so many gers prefer 
to watch the documentary The France in the Allantic 
in the 664-seat movie theater to going out on deck and 
watching the France in the Atlantic. Which of the two 
is the real France, anyway? (Incidentally, the boat is le 
France, while the country remains la France.) The Cali- 
fornian plays from the aft end of the ping-pong table, 
watching the heavy seas ahead that will finish his oppo- 
nent if he doesn't: the Bobby Fischer Method. Accord- 
ing to Evenis du Jour, Rotarians, Lions and Kiwanians 
aboard meet at the Verandah Deck Lounge in the after- 
noon, and tomorrow their picture will be in the paper. 
After lunch they show City Lights with Charlie Chap- 
lin, and tomorrow an old Jeanette MacDonald film; 
they must please Frenchmen and Americans, priests 
and atheists, anarchists and conservatives. All these 
strange things you accept as a matter of course, which is 
the strangest thing of all. The woman from Detroit who 
travels in "Normandie," the grand-luxe suite, all by , 
herself, almost $4000 for the fiveday crossing, com- 
plains bitterly because she was not asked to sit at the 
commandant's table. 

Few fine ships are left in the jumbo-jet age. The fin- 
est of all is the France, ће only luxury liner with an in- 
definable mood of its own, a sublime blend of tradition 
and taste, style and esprit that is almost a state of mind. 
Old French Line hands call it l'atmosphère Transat, 
which refers to Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. 
On the old De Grasse, the unforgotten Ile de France, 
the Normandie, I took this ambience for granted. Then 
I discovered, during a meeting in the office of Robert 
Bellet, the chief purser of the Liberté, years ago, that. 
the atmosphere was not a spontaneous Gallic phe- 
nomenon but the result of imagination and strategy as 
carefully put together as a Swiss watch. L'atmosphère 
Transat even managed to transform the former German 
Europa into the Liberté, as French as Gauloises 
cigarettes. 

Bellet had been a purser's apprentice when I was sec- 
ond fiddler on the Ile de France around 1930. We be- 
came friends. Two of his duties were to try to make 
us musicians keep regular working hours—somebody 
was always somewhere else with a jolie }єтттє—ап to 
prevent us from stealing bottles of wine from the pas- 
sengers tables. (We kept them under our beds and 
later disposed of them on the thirsty American main- 
land for nondevalued dollars.) 

"That memorable meeting was held on the morning 
of the Liberté's first day out of New York. At nine 
o'clock, Bellet already knew who had spent the night 
where he wasn't supposed to be, and about a holiday 
couple who were just married and already fighting and 
of an argument among the tourist-class waiters, He 
knew all the secrets aboard; (continued on page 98) 


“Not in heavy traffic, Sluggo!” 


PRODUCED BY WALTER HOLMES 
ILLUSTRATED BY GUY FERY 


attire 
BY ROBERT L. CPC C 


foot fetishists—have we 
got news for you! 


ht. The faxes had hi 
sights. Until he got up and—oh, мом! 
was he slipshod. He evaporated in 

а hail of heehows. But a week later he 
was back, left, in а pair of lace-ups 
with white piping, quilted-stitch trim and 
leather-covered platform soles and 
heels, from Verde, $40. No prablem 
now. And the next time he showed, he 
brought his amigos. One, above right, 
had a set of multicolor windowpane- 
plaid fabric jabbies with contrast 

piping, gum sales and three-inch heels, 
by Fantosio, $35. Number three, just 

to keep up, had a suede set—with 
wooden soles and heels, crepe bottoms 
апа brass-stud trim, by Verde, $20. 
When the smoke had cleared, they 

all agreed an one thing: “These shoes 
sure help you get next to people." 


GETTING 
OFF On 
THC RIGHT 
sioe 


95 


This stud definitely slipped into 
something good—leather clogs with 
hond-painted trim and foil reflector 
inserts, by Harbor Imports, $40. 


Though our man's no voyeur, he 

put on spectator shoes—in patent 
leather with heels—to keep the lody 
onher toes, by San Remo, $52. 


PLAYBOY 


Crossing on the Fme (continued from page 92) 


his subordinates—bellboys, barmen, wait- 
ers, stewards, night watchmen—formed 
a well-integrated intelligence network. 
Nearly all French Line employees start 
their training early; the bellboys attend 
special schools at the age of 16, later 
become stewards and perhaps maitres 
d'hôtel and retire at 55. Many are second- 
or third-generation Transat men, fiercely 
loyal to the company. No other line can 
make that claim. 

‘This time I again attended the purs- 
er's morning meeting on the France. 
M. Guy Samzun and his staff made up 
the lists of the passengers who might sit at 
the commandant's table at captain's din- 
ner, two nights before arrival, provided 
Commandant Christian Petré agreed. 
They designed the strategy for the get- 
together gala, the second night out, the 
invitations for special cocktail parties 
and other social affairs. They tried to 
match unescorted women and single men, 
blended nationalities, using VIP lists from 
their agencies and their own card files 
with the names of all regular French Line 
passengers, listing their likes and 
crasies, parties attended, invitations re- 
fused. They worked hard, knowing they 
must not make a mistake: time was short. 
(They let me sce my own card, with the 
dates of my private luncheons with Com- 
mandant Peitré in his personal dining 
room behind the bridge and some other 
cryptic data) They made plans for a 
masked ball in tourist class. Louis Pelle- 
gtin, the maitre de, reported about the 
problems involved in assigning people 
their seats in the dining room, a tricky 
business. Some want to be alone, some like 
company, some want to be seen and some 
like to hide. Many people won't say so, 
and M. Pellegrin must guess. Everybody 
agreed that the favorite lady passenger 
had been Leonardo’s Mona Lisa, travel- 
ing to America in 1963 in M-079, pro- 
tected by built-in batteries to guarantee a 
steady temperature, and by special guards 
in the adj 
room seat problem. 

Somebody reported that опе passen- 
ger had bought up all available small- 
scale models of the France and sold 
them at a good profit. Everybody 
laughed. Last night a member of the 
clergy had got happily intoxicated. 
Again everybody laughed. Apparently 
l'atmosphère Transat was already work- 
ing, since it affected even a servant of 
the Lord. But one woman, sitting with 
three men, had brusqucly got up in the 
middle of dinner, “and she was not 
sick.” Well, they would investigate. 

At ten o'clock I attended the meeting 
in the office of Commandant Pettré, 
who looks the part, with his Flying 
Dutchman beard, witty eyes and a sar 
donic sense of Gallic humor. Only the 
top-ranking officers were present. Policies 


were discussed and Pettré made the im- 
portant decisions, During the France's 
round-the-world cruise in 1972—91 days, 
minimum $5065, maximum $99,440 in 
the luxurious Ile de France suite—the 
ambience virtuosos had worked hard, but 
it took two months to bring the French- 
and English-speaking people together 
and to bridge the barriers among 22 
nationalities. 

“J attended over two hundred official 
affairs and I shook hands at least three 
times with every passenger,” Pettré said, 
with a shrug. “Still some complained. 
One man wanted to call the president, 
I don't know which president, because 
he missed sweet rolls for breakfast.” The 
various nationalities formed groups, and 
within the groups there were factions 
and cliques, since some came for fun and 
others for status, and some wanted only 
instruction. There were the blasé rich, 
and others who had spent their life sav- 
ings on the trip and naturally wanted all 
they could get for their money. There 
were many minority complexes, but only 
one fight, between two friends who had 
got drunk. One threw a plate of spaghetti 
across the table and the other emptied 
a bottle of red wine over his friend's 
white suit. “Reminded me of a Marx 
Brothers picture,” said Gommandant Pet- 
tré, who will take the France on another 
round-the-world cruise next year. 

Poets, novelists and psychologists have 
ascribed the erotic atmosphere aboard 
ship to the influence of the aphrodisiac 
sea air and the temporary freedom from 
earth-bound inhibitions, but the new 
freedom between the sexes has changed 
the basic patterns. There is a new clien- 
tele: tired businessmen trying 10 get a 
few days of rest between meetings and ca- 
reer women who travel alone and do аз 
they please. They enjoy a sense of ano- 
nymity among people they have never 
met and may not meet again. They are 
relaxed, sitting alone at the bar—which 
they wouldn't do in their home towns 
and they're having fun. 

“The atmosphere creates a common 
bond,” says Miss Claude Haynes, from 
Pasadena, the ship's hostess. "After a 
couple of days everybody feels as if 
they're at a large, successful house party. 
No one is scared. The women don't 
worry about getting home safe at night. 
No one cares whether the couple from 
5:015 is married. ‘They are happy. Good 
for them, I remember an Englishman 
who met a nice American woman here 
months ago. Now she often flies to Lon- 
don for a long weekend.” People even fall 
in love. Some old-fashioned ones want 
to get married and are disappointed 
when the captain, maitre apris Dieu, 
tells them he is not authorized to per- 
form a marriage ceremony. (One captain 


did the next best thing, giving the couple 
connecting staterooms.) 

"The older barmen and maitres de who 
have worked aboard French Line ships 
for over 30 years remember the small girls 
who not so long ago traveled with their 
parents and are now traveling with their 
small girls. “They come to greet mc, 
though I should go and greet them,” says 
Roger Regoudy, the chef de réception. 
"The staff members have forgotten more 
about love and other affairs than most 
gossip columnists ever learn about them. 
If they could only write, they say: Almost 
every crossing is a novel. 

Not long ago an immensely rich oil 
sheik was aboard with a retinue of 14 
men. One asked Miss Haynes, "Are you 
the one who handles the women 
aboard?" She told him, tactfully but 
firmly, that women are not "handled" 
on a French here are parties 
and other social occasions. In the end 
some of the sheik's men wound up with 
some pretty Jewish girls in tourist class. 

Almost ail problems are approached 
with diplomacy, tact and Gallic finesse, 
and it's a rare staff member who is even 
momentarily stumped. One was the old 
night watchman on the Ile de France. 
who was approached by an irate woman 
at two in the morning. Her husband 
had disappeared into the stateroom of 
another woman; couldn't one do some- 
thing about it? The night watchman 
asked for the number of the stateroom. 
“That's the problem," the woman said 
desperately. "He was involved with two 
or three. Couldn't we call him on the 
publicaddress system? That would at 
least spoil their fun.” 


Noel Coward once told an interviewer 
that he always sailed with the French, 
"where there's none of that nonsense 
about women and children first,” but 
he later apologized for his crack. Actu- 
ally, the French have done well with 
women, children and men, as the survi- 
vors of the Andrea Doria remember 
who were picked up by the lle de 
France. Today people take the France 
for other reasons. Many come attracted 
by the ship's epicurean reputation 
"Here we don't have dinner, we dine," 
a Woman says. Some want to see, at least 
for a few days, a style of life that won't 
last long—at best, another ten years— 
“so we'll have an idea what it was.” Quite 
a few are young people in search of nos- 
talgia, having heard from parents and 
older friends how beautiful it was. 

“There will never be another luxury 
liner as large and elegant as the France,” 
says M. Edmond Lanier, the dynamic pres- 
ident of the French Line. Even gold-rich 
governments cannot afford such an ex- 
travapanza. There will be medium-sized 
ships, fast, air-conditioned, self-service, 
with cafeterias, computerized—but who 

(continued on page 203) 


DESIGNED ёт ТОМ STAEBLER / PHOTOGRAPHED BY BILL ARSENAULT 


ONE AFTERNOON in November of 
1972, when I happened to be 
sojourning in Charlotte, 
taking the waters of North 
Carolina, I directed my native 
driver to take me to the 
telegraph office. There 1 
dispatched the following wi 
less to the director-general 
at the Society's international 
headquarters in Woodville, 
Virginia: "HAVE sIGHTED 
BIJOONA, LETTER FOLLOWS." 
Thisis within the accepted 
form. Some members incline 
toward “REPORT FOLLOWS," 
but there is something ominous 


wherever they may be found. 
At one time, prior to the 
1939 Revision of Forms and 
Procedures, it was customary to 
telegraph, “HAVE SPOTTED 
BIJOONA,” but the Committee 
felt the phrase subject to a 
certain ambiguity that 

wisely should be avoided. 

In any event, I dispatched the 
customary message, and a 

hit later, as the November 
twilight gathered over 

this pleasant Southern city, I 
sat alone in my motel room, 
overlooking the parking 

lot, remembering other times, 


in "report," rather out of other bijoonas. Good years, 
character, or so it has seemed these. The Presidential-election 
to me, for those of us years are best, of course, if 
devoted to the discovery and only because one is traveling 
eradication of bijoonas, (continued on page 198) 


the scourge of bathrooms everywhere, it preys upon the human male when he least expects it 


humor BY JAMES JACKSON KILPATRICK 


decided to really stick it to the godfather: 
He would not eat any of the catfish 
steaks, make him feel guilty of double 
offense. Perhaps, by nightfall, he might 
wheedle another credit card out of 
Serafina... 

“You see, Monsignore, it’s just that 
me, a man of the world, I see things dif- 
ferent from the way you бо... 

“Yes. Well. of Binky. of course . 
quiet person, I hadn't known. . . ." 

But Binky was already there. 

“Hello, Monsignor. Hello, Emilio.’ 

“Good morning, Binky,” Martin de 
Porres Fisher greeted him. “A truly sad 
day, m'es-ce pas?” Serafina still wiped 
tears from his face. He stared pointedly 
at the bulge in Binkys crotch and al- 
most convulsed himself out of his chair. 

“Extremely, Martin. Arthur was such 
a hne . It’s too bad he had to go 
like that. 

Binky took a seat and Martin saw that 
he was dressed the same as ever. The 
screaming Sixties had done nothing to 
him on the exterior. A Korean War vet, 
he had become unrelentingly locked in 
the casual golden styles of an Arnold 
Palmer or Jack Kennedy, and always, 
even on this day of burial at sea, had 
the special look of being on his way 
to play golf. In another moment, Sera- 
fina regained control and called out to 
the galley: “Bring smoked salmon also. 
And those Jewish onion roils from the 
delicatessen.” 

In minutes more, Muriel Farragan ar- 
rived, driving her own car, following 
Vecchio in the mortician's hearse that 
bore the body of her husband. Vecchio 
backed the hearse up to the gangplank 
and opened the rear door as Muriel 
parked her convertible. Serafina, Martin 
de Porres Fisher and Binky Applebaum 
went to the railing to greet her, and 
Serafina snapped his fingers at Niña, 
Pinta and Santa Maria to help Vecchio 
carry the body. sewn into a weighted 
canvas sack, on board. Vecchio looked 
carefully about—for police, perhaps. 
ce Arthur was already supposed io 

be underground—then urged the crew 
members to their task. The four lifted 
the sack, laid out on a metal stretcher, 
out of the hearse and strained up the 
gangplank toward the deck. Muriel, 
dressed all in black, and throwing the 
lace of her mourning mantilla over her 
face, followed behind. At the top, once 
Arthur had been placed on the deck, 
Serafina welcomed her aboard. He took 
her in his open arms, swallowing her 
petiteness: “Muriel, dearest Muriel, such 
a tragic day. 

“Oh, Emilio, you've been so kind to 
help out,” she spoke, crushed into the 
brace of medals on his chest. “A poor 
widow can simply not have enough 

100 friends." 


PLAYBOY 


SOCIETY OF FRIENDS (continued from page 78) 


“There, there, Muriel,” the admiral 
comforted. “Nothing is too good for 


you. 


And you, Martin . . . how can one 
k you . . . for your understanding?" 

“Holy Mother the Church is not with- 
out compassion, dear Muriel" Martin 
de Porres Fisher assured her. They 
kissed, brushing each other's cheeks as 
they always did when they met, Martin 
feeling the wetness of her tears beneath 
the veil, imbibing the subtle odor of her 
perfume, her woman's delicious smell 
that always set him to wishing he were 
not a priest at all, no matter how good 
he had it. 

“And you, Binky thank you so 
much for being here today.” Binky did 
not embrace her. He would get his later. 
All afternoon and into the evening, 
probably. Now they merely shook hands 
in deference to the nearness of the sack 
оп the deck, and Binky offered his sim- 
ple condolence: 

“I think it’s truly tragic about Mr. 
Farragan, Muriel.” 

“Yes, a great sadness for me, as you 
magine.” 
es, truly tragic,” Serafina added. 

“Most unfortunate,” Martin said. 

“Yes,” Binky agreed. 

In the paling of condolences (every- 
thing having been said the day before at 
the cemetery when they buried the 
rocks), Serafina remembered the enve- 
lope for Vecchio, who departed the mad- 
ness immediately down the gangplank, 
not looking back. Then the admiral 
gave orders to Niña, Pinta and Santa 
Maria to cast off. The mighty engines 
started with a roar and Serafina encour- 
aged them to breakfast. Martin de 
Porres Fisher proffered his arm and Mu- 
riel took it, walking slowly toward the 
rear deck with him: “The Time of the 
Troubles is ended, Martin, don’t you 
feel it? The country has returned to 
normalcy, the President seems firmly in 
command. Vietnam will just become an 
awful memory.” 

“One hopes for that, dear Muriel. 
There has been enough of anguish and 
violence already. 

The Stella Maris eased out into the 
bay as they took their places. Serafina 
called out to the galley: “Cuisinier: 
two two-minute eggs for Mrs. Farragan, 
and lots of bacon, very crisp.” 

They moved into the open ocean that 
was calm and shimmering, then headed 
north toward Asbury Park, where Ar- 
thur Farragan was to be dumped over- 
board. Martin, disdaining his catfish 
steaks, reflected instead on the “Time of 
the Troubles,” as Muriel called them, 
the same that in the past she had nar- 
rated for him blow by blow in the con- 
fessional. For her, the troubles had 


erupted in the summer of 1968, some- 
time around the violent days of the 
Democrats convention, when he had 
known her slightly more than а усаг. 
She had telephoned him one afternoon, 
asking if she might come by his apart- 
ment, saying simply: “Martin, 1 would 
confess to you and only you." 

Her language—a formalese that she 
always spoke to priests—delighted him 
and he had come to think of her, dark- 
eyed and lovely. as a woman of Verona. 
the dukes wife. He readily invited 
her by. 

When she arrived, dressed іп mourn- 
ing black, he had had time enough to 
prepare. Incense circled the rooms and 
he sat hidden behind a silk screen Sera- 
fina had sent him from Portugal, depict- 
ing the laying of Saint Bartholomew. She 
knelt on the other side and confessed to 
having planted a bomb beneath her hor- 
rid sister-in-law, Anna Farragan. 

“And do you repent of your sin, Mu- 
riel, so that I may give you absolution?” 

"I cannot, Martin,” she spoke sadly. It 
mattered little. Though he smelled no 
alcohol through the screen, he thought 
she was drunk. No such crime could 
have been perpetrated. What did truck- 
ing tycoons’ wives know of explosives? 

“And you, Martin, would you break 
the seal of the confessional and accuse 
me to the police?” 

^I cannot, Muriel.” 

"I was sure." She crossed herself, her 
rosary wrapped about her hands clack- 
ing with the motions, then slowly with- 
drew. Martin de Porres Fisher, clucking 
to himself over her delusion, got up and 
mixed himself a gin and tonic, then 
switched on the early-evening news. The 
newscaster confirmed that Anna, nee 
Farragan, Bigalow Furgueson Mailey 
had, indeed, been blown to bits by a 
bomb. Martin collapsed before the tele- 
vision set in a dead faint. 

A month or so afterward, Jim Farra- 
gan. Arthurs brother. went straight 
through the roof of his Cadillac at the 
trucking-company terminal, spattering 
many of his employees. Martin heard of 
it on his car radio, drove straight home, 
piled covers onto his bed and dived un- 
derneath them, the better to contain the 
cold sweat into which he had erupted. 
He thought of calling her, warning her 
to stay away from him, but in the end 
he did not. The next morning he went 
to his office in the chancery, haggard 
and graylooking after the manner of 
blacks, and dictated letter upon letter to 
his secretary, not wanting to be alone. 
She phoned about 11 л.м 

“Martin, I would confess.” 

“I am indisposed, Muriel.” His voice 
quivered whole octaves in answering: his 
secretary discreetly left the office. 

“I will come to your apartment at five 
clock, Martin.” She hung up abruptly. 
He left his office at four, steadied himself 

(continued on page 218) 


humor 


an undressed parade of libidinarians 
in feverish pursuit of bedded bliss 


“Two minutes and four seconds. You're getting much better, my darling.” 


“Can I help it if Рт terribly sexy?” 


"It's made from a new synthetic. 
I'm sure you'll love it." 


“I hate to interrupt your meditation, 
but my left leg has fallen asleep.” 


“You're one in a million, Barney.” 


: T ^ “Don’t think I don't , 
“No-calorie whipping cream. Charley, appreciate your giving it 
you're always so thoughtful.” the old try, sweetheart.” 


“Remember when our group-therapy encounters consisted entirely 
of touching faces and looking intently into each other’s eyes?” 


104 


“But how can I enjoy it when I know you're not fully enjoying it, 
because you're concentrating so much on doing what you think I enjoy?" 


martha’s modeling PECKINPAH, 
oaren ита: BERGMAN, 
moviemaking dream HITCHCOCK- 
may not be AND SMITH? 


M ARTHA SMITH is trying to sort things out: Should she go to school and take classes in film? Should she simply show 
up in California and try to get a sense of the best way to begin? Would it be better to stay in Detroit and look for 
a job in the media department of some advertising agency or to show a documentary director the 16mm stuff she's already 
shot? Though she hasn't yet imposed any order on her ambition, Martha knows she wants to be a film maker and fig- 
ures that, at the age of 20, there's still time to consider the many ways to go about it. "I've talked to a lot of people, 
and they all give me different advice. My dream is to do it all, write the script, direct, be totally involved with 
the production of a film. That's a very large dream, 1 know, but I want to do it anyway. For now, I'm writing script 
outlines and, with a few friends, shooting some small productions around Detroit.” The rest of Martha's schedule 
is devoted to modeling; from her parents’ home in suburban Farmington, it’s only a half hour's drive to her jobs in 
the city, where she most often promotes the newest cars at auto shows and in commercials, Her modeling career was 
really unplanned—the suggestion of a college friend whoasked her to join him on a summer-long tour of Mexico and help 
show a line of clothing. The trip sounded fine, but Martha first had to register herself with a modeling agency, so 


Above right: Martha rises for а morning of modeling appointments. "Detroit, for all its negative pul 
106 place, especially if you're a model, since the car companies do so much advertising. But there's not much nig) 


isn't that bad a 


life," she concedes. 


COLOR PHOTOGRAPHY BY POMPEO POSAR 


Right: Martha visits the 
home of Detroit photog- 
rapher Jack Whitehead to 
go over the results of a 
shooting. “1 like to see all 
the shots from a model- 
ing session, the rejects as 
well as the chosen ones, 
because it helps me under- 
stand the elements of 
composition that are vital 
to cinematography. When 
you place the bad shots 
alongside the good 

ones, you can see the 
difference immediately.” 


Above: Martha on assignment, posing with her 
most frequent modeling partner—a new car. 
Right: On а recent visit with friends in 
Chicago, she takes advantage of the 

Lake Michigan backdrop to shoot some film. 


AINE SSIN 


she called the agency where her older sister was employed, and that's how she fell into what's become a busy 
career. Naturally, some of her jobs are more memorable than others, but she recalls one vividly. "My agency 
told me to put on a bikini and go to Olympia Stadium, where I was to assist in a car presentation. I didn't know 
until I arrived that I was supposed to hop out of the car onto an ice-hockey rink between periods of a Red Wings 
game. When I jumped out of the car, the people started whistling and screaming at the top of their lungs. The 
announcer was talking about all the car’s features and 1 was supposed to be pointing them out as he spoke, 
but the crowd noise was so loud I couldn’t hear a word he was saying and I was pointing at a tire while he 
was describing the windshield. At the same time, I was slipping all over the ice, because I was wearing hard- 
soled sandals and couldn't keep my balance.” Eventually, Martha wants to turn all modeling jobs into a 
memory, but she's making no hasty decisions; she'd like to begin her next career on as sure a footing as possible. 


After she and her moviemaking friends finish shooting for the day, astrology freak Mortha finds о little shop on 
State Street called the Occult Book Store. Below: Martho and the store's manager, Richard Collet, check out her chart. 


PLAY BOY’S PARTY JOKES 


A tcenager confided to her mother that she 
had broken her engagement when her fiancé 
admitted that he had had affairs with two 
other girls. 

“But a girl can't always expect to be the first, 

r,” comforted her mother. "Some men de- 
liberately seek experience before marriage for 
the sake of their brides-to-be.” 

"I know," sobbed the young thing, "but I 
made Joe tell me the others’ names, and every- 
thing they know about scx, they learned 
from me!" 


And, of course, you've heard about the 
hurricane that recently struck Fire Island— 
Hurricane Bruce. 


The insecticide salesman wanted the order so 
badly that he made the farmer a special prop- 
osition. The salesman would strip completely, 
spray himself. with his company's product and 
then spend the night lashed to a chair in the 
pasture. If he remained unbitten, he would 
obtain the order; if not, he would pay a cash 
forfeit. The farmer accepted, and when he 
untied the salesman the following morning. 
the latter showed no bite marks but was 
otherwise in a state of near exhaustion. When 
he had been revived to some degree by coffee, 
the farmer asked what had happened. "Well. 
the insects caused me no trouble at all 
muttered the salesman, "but doesn't that 
damn calf have a mother?" 


We place no stock in a rumor that the Pope's 
next pronouncement on birth control is ко be 
titled Paul's Epistle to the Fallopians. 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines booby 
hatch as a training bra. 


Baby,” boasted the well-oiled conventioneer, 
“I'm gonna make love to you like you've never 
had it before!” Half an hour later, his bed com- 
pulled a feather out of the pillow and 
to tap him on the forehead with it. 

mumbled the ma hat's that all 


"Well, comparatively speaking, lover boy, 
yawned the girl, “I'm beating your brains out. 


We сет to be having some difficulty in obtain. 
ing straight answers from you, Mr. Congress- 
led one of the TV.panel newsmen. 
“Perhaps if you gave us just one, it would 
precedent. Tell me, then: What is your 
itc color?” 

“Plaid.” said the politician. 


The man was approached by the artificial- 
insemination division of a family-planning 
group to contribute to a public sperm bank. 

“No,” he said, "I'm sorry, but I give the 
United way.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines ТР censor 
asa Bleeping Гот. 


The will of a lecher named Gore 
Revealed a cremation in store: 
Bedeviled by lust, he 
Had named a tart trustee 
To haul his old ashes once more. 


This jury of thy peers,” intoned the judge, 
"hath recommended that I cause thee to 
wear a scarlet A upon thy bosom for all to 
see. And let it be recorded,” continued the 
austere magistrate to the shapely young defend- 
ant, "that T deem this a most questionable rec- 
ommendation. The jury hath not done thee, 
Mistress Prynne, true justice.” 

"Rut, Your Honor" interjected the jury 
foreman, “A was the highest mark we could 
suggest for her!” 


All you guys have your brains between your 
legs!" snapped the liberated young woman in 
response to her date's overture. 

“vos!” } mitted. “And that gives me a 
mind-blowing idea!” 


Meg rnm 


The worried wife explained to the psychiatrist 
that her husband had developed a craving for 
dog food and was г; their Doberman's 
supply, and she showed him a can of it. After 
checking the label. he told the woman that the 
n seemed harmless cnough and that 
her husband would probably get over his fond- 
ness for it with time. and suggested that, mean- 

ile, she simply buy enough for both her 
spouse and the dog. 

Some weeks later, the woman telephoned to 
say that her spouse was dead. "My God!" ex- 
claimed the psychiatrist. “It wasn't the dog 
food, was it?" 

“No, doctor,” she replied sadly. “Poor George 
was out in the driveway licking his prick and I 
accidentally backed over him.” 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a post- 
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, 
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, 
dil. 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


„Зем 


“Our marriage counselor was right, Leonard! We were placing 
too much emphasis on the bedroom!” 


115 


""  HOUJ TO BEAT 
THE STOCK MARKET 
^" ВУ WATCHING GIRLS, 
^ A COUNTING ASPIRIN, 
е CHECKING SUNSPOTS 
» AND WONDERING 
< WHERE THE YELLOW WENT 
300 article By MAX GUNTHER 
usually infallible formulas to help you 
a almost make money at least 
part of the time—if used properly 
3 ҮШ 


1897 1900 1905 


JESSE LIVERMORE, a big-time speculator 
from an earlier era, once remarked that 
the stock market is crazy and that to beat 
it you have to be crazy yourself. Liver- 
more was right. Unfortunately, he wasn't 
crazy enough. He made four colossal for- 
tunes but lost all four and died in virtual 
poverty, a suicide. 

Still, the truth of his epigram survives 
in his absence. Witness the following 
eight formulas to predict how stock prices 
will move. They have little or no basis in 
common sense. All that can be said about 
them is that they seem to work. 


THE HEMLINE INDICATOR 
In 1967, Ralph Rotnem, then research 


116 chief at the brokerage firm of Harris 


1910 


1915 


Upham & Company, discovered a pro- 
found truth. He drew a graph of the Dow- 
Jones Industrial Average over a 70-year 
period and superimposed on it another 
graph showing the ups and downs of 
women’s skirts. The correlation was as- 
toun: 
—notably, in the carly Twen 
‘Thirties and the Sixties—so 
When hemlines sank floorward—as hap- 
pened in the late Twenties and late 
Forties, for example—the Dow either col- 
lapsed or entered a period of stagnation. 
Rotnem grew nervous in the late 
Sixties. Hemlines had reached a point 
where they literally could go no higher. 
So, by extension, had the Dow. Pants suits 
and longer skirts were beginning to show 


The 
Hemline 
Indicator 


1935 


up in the fashion magazines. “This wor- 
ried me," Rotnem recalled. “I hoped 
maybe the pants suit and the Aoor length 
skirt were passing fads that wouldn't 
catch on with most women. But when I 
began to sec knees disappearing on the 
streets, 1 thought, O/roh. . 
Somebody asked Rotnem in 1969 
whether he and his brokerage house took 
the Hemline Indicator seriously. He re- 
plied, “No, but we should. Ir's the only 
forecasting tool that’s right one hundred 
percent of the time.” It was right again in 
the late Sixties. The 30-inch plunge from 
irt to pants suit was followed by a 
250-point plunge in the Dow. Today, the 
Hemline Indicator fails to point out a 
dear wend for the future of the stock 


The SunsporThaoy. О 


€ at 
- 


\ 
à 


1940 1945 1950 


market. Nearly all hemline lengths are 
in vogue. The index seems to be saying 
that the marker, like the eyes of leg men 
the nation over, will wander up and down 
indecisively—at least for a while. 


THE HEEL HYPOTHESIS 


"Though the Hemline Indicator went 
slightly awry in the Fifties (skirts dropped 
sharply, but the Dow just stagnated), a 
companion indicator held up well. ‘This 
device forecasts the markets moves by 
measuring current fashion im the heel 
heights of women’s shoes. Heels were high 
in the booming Twenties, lower in the 
gloomy Thirties. During and after World 
War Two, they rose to preposterous 
heights (platform soles were then in 


il | 
The Great Lake Watch |. 
22 ч Е 
کک‎ PCS 


1955 1960 1965 


vogue) and the Dow more than doubled. 
When platform soles went out and heels 
fell accordingly, the market went no- 
where. "There was no further significant 
drop in heel heights for the next decade 
and a half, and the market got over 
its early-Fifties doldrums and soared 
dramatically until the late Sixties. Then 
low heels came back in and stocks sank 
sympathetically. 

"Ihe originator of this peculiar fore- 
casting technique is a Wall Street banker 
who believes that his employer, a rather 
solemn institution, would not appreciate 
the brilliance of his ight. "Don't iden- 
tify me," he says. “Just call me the, um, 
Sole Proprietor of the Heel Hypothesis.” 
‘The Sole Proprietor observes that heels 


The Heel Hypothesis 


The 
Bad-Guess 
Theorem 


L > 


The Yellowness Rule 
به‎ нш 


1970 


are rising again and platform soles are re- 
turning after a 20-year absence. И pants 
suits and maxiskirts lade into limbo 
(which some fashion authorities think 
likely), the Hemline Indicator will also 
turn up and the middle Seventies will be 
a grand time to own stocks. 

Indexes such as these may be a little less 
farfetched than they seem. According to 
a Florida psychiatry protessor, “People 
enjoy sex more and want it more when 
they're feeling happy. In generally buoy- 
ant, optimistic times, women tend to dress 
in more revealing or exaggerated styles to 
catch the male eye. In gloomier times, 
they may dress in a more utilitarian man- 
ner. So these indexes of women’s clothing 
styles might not be utter nonsense. Many 


117 


women are highly sensitive to the emo- 
tional ambience around them. If their 
changing dress styles show they are feeling 
more buoyant, that may be a clue to emo- 
tional factors that will affect the stock 
market.” 


THE DRINKING-COUPLE COUNT 


PLAYBOY 


И market forecasts can be made from 
observations of women’s behavior, there 
should be a complementary theory about 
men, and there is. It is ed for pos 
terity by David Canfield, an executive in 
the brokerage house of Fahnestock & Co. 
Canfield, an enthusiastic chronicler of 
Wall Street oddballs, has a client who 
times his market play by observing eve- 
ning crowds at cocktail lounges. The 
theory goes like this: In times of general 
discontent. men tend to drink alone or 
with other men. When optimism is rising, 
they grow sexier, partly because women 
are inviting such conduct. You can spot 
the re-emergence of optimism after a de- 
pressed period, Canfield's client says, by 
counting drinking couples after hours at 
your favorite water hole. When the aver- 
age number per evening rises by about 20 
percent and stays high for a few months, 
the stock market is about to rise. Con- 
versely, a significant long-term drop in 
the number of couples presages a decline. 

Canfield's client recently perceived a 
steady increase in drinking couples. "I 
must admit he has shown good timing in 
the past,” says Canfield. “But so have a 
lot of other guys. I have another client 
who can be timed by the phases of 
the moon... 


THE SUNSPOT THEORY 


David Williams is a retired executive 
living in Florida. According to his own 
account, he has increased his money by an 
average 25 percent a year since he ven- 
tured into the market in 1958. He says he 
has made 279 purchases to date, of which 
275 produced gains totaling $169,953 and 
four produced losses totaling $812. 

Williams does it рагу by counting 
sunspots. His theory starts with the prem- 
ise that the human brain and nervous 
system work. by means of minuscule elec- 
trical impulses. If this is so, Williams fig- 
ures, changes in the sun's radiation ought. 
to change the way people think and feel. 
Certain types of radiation might interfere 
with our synapses, with the result that in 
some periods we tend to be abnormally 
jumpy and irritable, making more than 
our usual quota of judgment errors. This 
would interfere with commerce and make 
everybody glum, with the end result 
being a stock-market slump. 

1f all this is true, Williams proposes, 
the way to predict the market's course in 
any future period is to predict what the 
sun will be doing, via sunspots, those 
huge, hurricanelike storms on the solar 
surface that are visible evidence of peri- 

116 odic changes in the sun. As it happens, 


the number and distribution of sunspots, 
Williams says, vary in a cyclical, predict- 
able way. His formula for predicting these 
changes is stunningly complex—there are 
cycles within cycles overlapping other cy- 
les—but Williams claims he has worked 
everything out with enough clarity for his 
own purposes, and, given his past success, 
who can argue with him? His prediction 
for 1973: third quarter down, last quarter 
up a notch. For the first half of 1974: a 
thundering bull market—perhaps. 


THE ASPIRIN FORMULA 


This theory, of unknown origin, begins 
with the reasonable proposition that 
people get a lot of headaches when their 
business affairs, love affairs and other 
affairs are turning sour. Such a period of 
failure and sore synapses would expect- 
ably be followed by a market collapse. 
Therefore, says the theory, you can see 
the market's future by watching the ups 
and downs of the aspirin business. The 
forecasting technique is capable of look- 
ing one year ahead: When aspirin sales 
and production rise in a given year, the 
market will drop the following year. 

Here follows the record since the mid- 
Sixties. In the left-hand column are the 
yearly changes in acetylsalicylicacid out- 
put, as reported by the U.S. Tariff Com- 
mission. The right-hand column shows 
what happened on Wall Street a year 
later. as measured by Standard & Poor's 


broad-based composite stock index: 
ASPIRIN S. & P. INDEX 
1964 down 1965 up 
1965 up 1966 down 
1966 up 1967 up 
1967 down 1968 up 
1968 up 1969 down 
1969 up 1970 down 
1970 down 1971 up 
1971 down 1972 up 
1972 up 1973 ? 


The theory failed once: The market 
perversely and unaccountably went the 
wrong way in 1967. Maybe hemlines 
were so high that year that nothing else 
mattered. 

On the basis of incomplete figures for 
1972, the trade journal Chemical Market- 
ing Reporter estimates aspirin produc- 
tion for the year at 34,500,000 pounds, up 
from 31,700,000 in 1971. Figures also show 
that sales of Alka-Seltzer, down for the 
previous two years, rose again in 1972. All 
those 1972 headaches bode ill for 1973, 
but final returns aren't in yet. 


THE YELLOWNESS RULE 


A Wall Streeter once approached New 
York color consultant Faber Birren and 
excitedly described a forecasting tech- 
nique based on the color yellow. The 
Streeter had noticed that there was al- 
ways a lot of yellow around—on living- 
room walls, cars, men's shirts, women's 
dresses—just before the market began а 


major rise. Conversely, the disappearance 
of yellow seemed to signal a slump. 

Bien replied, “Well, ah..." But 
after a while he grudgingly allowed that 
he theory might have something to 
“not much, but something." Yellow is 
an odd color, he says. In color-preference 
tests, though people associate it with sun- 
shine and optimism, relatively few call it 
beautiful or rank it as a clear favorite. 
However, Birren says in his book Your 
Color and Your Self, yellow is often fa- 
vored by people in mental institutions. 
Psychiatrists associate it "not with mcl- 
ancholy . . . but rather with violent, 
raving lunacy.” Thus, in the manic- 
depressive cycle of economics, the appear- 
ance of yellow on the scene might signal 
the beginning of a manic episode, a time 
of wild speculation 

“Farfecched,” mutters Birren. But his 
records of paint and dye sales do show 
that yellow fell in popularity during the 
late Sixties—which would have been a 
sell signal to any stock trader using this 
technique. Yellow is now rising rapidly 
again—in fact, has become the third most 
popular color, after off-white and gold. 
‘This obviously means the market wi 
soon go up—provided it doesn't go down. 


THE GREAT LAKE WATCH 


"This theory, at least 25 years old, holds 
that you can predict economic booms and 
busts by watching long-term changes in 
the water levels of the Great Lakes. The 
rationale is that rising lake levels show 
there has been a lot of rainfall, which 
means farmers’ harvests have been good, 
which means—well, you can take it from 
there. Supposedly, there's about a four- 
year lag between the surges of the lakes 
and those of the stock market. It takes 
that long, the theory postulates, for sad or 
happy agricultural times to spread to in- 
dustry and reflect themselves in stock 
prices. Thus, the Great Lakes reached un. 
usually Jow levels in 1925, 1935 and 1964, 
which would have warned lake watchers 
that the market was due for trouble in 
1929. 1939 and 1969. Needless to say, the 
troubles occurred on schedule. 

The U.S. Commerce Department's 
Lake Survey Center, which has been mon- 
itoring lake levels since 1860, agrees that 
the levels reflect significant long-term 
variations in rainfall and snowfall. The 
lakes drain enormous areas of this coun. 
try and Canada. They hold enough water, 
in fact, to cover the entire continental 
U. S. to a depth of nine feet. But the cen. 
ter's director, Captain Kenneth MacDon- 
ald, doesn't use his soundings as a basis 
for playing the stock market. Says he: 
“We hear these theories from time to 
time. But as far as we're concerned, when 
the lake levels are high, all it means is 
that there’s a lot of water around.” 

"The levels have been high since 1970. 
At the end of 1972. the several lakes were 

(concluded on page 170) 


you have a surprise coming on your first visit to the state's biggest and most lav 

ish new hostelry, the Playboy Club-Hotel at Great Gorge in northwest Jersey's 

Sussex County, just over 50 miles from New York City. It's a total recreation and 

relaxation complex located in a district of smogless skies and great natural beauty 

green, rolling woodlands, clear-water lakes, unusual rock formations—offering а 

multitude of indoor and outdoor activities that includes, in winter, access to some 
of the best skiing on the Eastern Seaboard. 

, emblematic of Playboy and some of the states and countries in which 

tablished outposts, flutter over the entrance to the 567-acre property, off 

e in, you stop at the gatehouse to present your 

rd; only keyholders and their guests are admitted to the resort. 

although special packages often includea Key-Card (text continued on page 121) 


[Е NEVER PICTURED New Jersey as the setting for a mountain-country resort, 


Just over on hour's drive from downtown Manhattan, the $30,000,000, 700-room Playboy 
Club-Hotel ot Great Gorge о cosmopolitan hostelry зе! down in an unspoiled rural setting. 


GREAT GORGE! 


playboy’s latest resort—in the 
new jersey mountains—is a 
year-round pleasure palace 


First thing one sees о! Great Gorge is this impressive five- 
story-high lobby, with its massive redwood light fixtures 
ond bonks of greenery spilling over rough stone surfaces 
(below). A favored year-round attraction is the outdoor 
swimming pool (right), where guests con sun-bothe, sip 
and dip in summer or take a turn ot ice skating in winter. 


One of the amenities provided by 24-hour room service: 
being able to hove a champagne breakfast in bed—no 
matter what the hour (below). At right, the challenging 
27 hole golf layout designed by architect George Fazio 
with pro Doug Sonders as consultant. The same duo is 
masterminding the future oddition of another nine holes. 


Fun in and out of the sun: Western trail rides, 
punctuated by а picnic lunch (top), 

‘appointed outdoor courts (abave) 

weather, i 


With winter sports becoming increosingly populor, guests 
grovitate to the adjacent Great Gorge Ski Area (that's 
one of eight chair lifts at right. At top, on olfresco lunch 
at the ski chalet; above, snowmobiling; below, а catered 
fondue party by the fireploce in the Club-Hotel lobby. 


VA 


Afier a busy doy outdoors, there's 
plenty to do inside the Club-Hotel 
Above, guests play table soccer, one of 
mony pastimes from роо! ta pinball 
provided in the Game Room, which is 
open 24 hours o doy. Men's and 
women’s health clubs offer complete 
facilities, including exercise equipment, 
massage end sounos (at right). Fol 
low the souno with a splosh in ће 
indaor pool (below)—or in the jumbo 
Jacuzzi, big enough for 20. Other 
possibilities are table tennis, bridge, 
free movies, dancing in the psychedelic 
Bunny Hutch discothéque, visits te 
beauty ond barber shaps or boutiques 
offering everything fram bil 

ontiques. There are alsa supervised pro- 
grams for children, even weekly in- 
vestment lectures (by stockbrokers) and 
karate exhibitions (by Bunny experts). 


nis to 


Good food, tall drinks and voried entertainment ore hallmark: of Ployboy's New Jersey 
resort, whether the occosion is o special bonque! in the Duke of York ballroom, which accom- 
modates 1300 guests (above), or а heorty steok-and-potatoes supper in the Ploymate Bor 
(below), where after-dinner fare includes dancing to the beor of an onstage group (right). 


as part of the price. At the main building 
—which you actually enter on the third- 
floor level, the structure being nestled 
into a hillside—you're met by a bellman 
who takes your luggage and an attendant 
who parks your car. Pause inside the 
lobby for a bit of gaping; everybody 
does. From the ceiling, five stories above 
you, hang massive, redwood-boxed light 
fixtures. Greenery spills over roughhewn 
terraces; and dominating one side of the 
imposing foyer is a huge burnished-brass 
and-bronze fireplace. If you've been to 
the Playboy Club-Hotel at Lake Geneva, 
Wisconsin, the setting will be familiar— 
in mirror image and macrocosm. Great 
Gorge is twice as big and what's on your 
ake Geneva is on your right here. 
to one of the Clu 

700 rooms; all the accommodation: 

оп the outside and each boasts a private 
balcony. Then sit down and relax. A 
standard double room has two oversized 


beds, a huge closet, color television, game 
table. marble bath, thick-pile carpeting 
that runs up one wall and, in some 


of the two-bedroom suites, refrigerator 


Top showbiz personolities highlight the bill in the Penthouse, the 700-seat 
supper club-showroom сї Great Gorge. Crowd pleosers in recent months 
have been Bill Cosby (above left) and Ann-Margret (above right), аз well as 
Trini Lopez, Pot Boone, Ed McMohon, Count Basie, Doc Severinsen and 
many more. At right, leisurely meals enhanced by а wide variety of vintage 
wines ore served in the condlelight-and-silver ambience of the VIP Room. 


PLAYBOY 


bars. Everything first-class, You're begin- 
ning to see why the place cost nearly 
$30,000,000. 

Probable first step, after freshening up, 
is a quick reconnaissance of the main 
building itself. Your room will be in a 
wing of the eightstory building. which 
sprawls in a kind of elongated $ shape 
from north to south. The principal win- 
ing, dining and recreational faci 
in the five-story-high central core: health 
dubs for men and women, meeting 
rooms, beauty and barber shops and in- 
doorpool entrance on the first floor: 
lobby, Bunny Hutch discothèque, Side- 
walk Café, Oyster Bar. Man at Leisure 
Bar, Game Room, Living Room, shop- 
ping arcade, Playmate Bar and 24-hour 
delicatessen on the third floor; VIP 
Room, Penthouse showroom, Duke of 
York ballroom and additional meeting 
rooms on the fifth floor. Ceilings in all 
these areas are so high that there isn't 
room for second or fourth floors. Across 
the drive from the main entrance is the 
Convention Center, a separate building 
reachable by underground tunnel; it's 
used not only for large exhibits such 
as golf shows or auto-sales conferences 
but also as the site of three indoor 
tennis courts. 

Outside, уоште surrounded by a 27- 
hole golf layout—with another nine 
holes now in the planning stages. 
"There are also practice greens, open-air 
tennis courts, horse and pony stables, an 
outdoor swimming pool with 700 lounge 
chairs on the terrace, where poolside 
Bunnies stand ready to take your refresh- 
ment orders. And just across narrow val- 
ley to the east is the Great Gorge Ski 
Area, under separate management but 
linked to the Club-Hotel by shuttle bus 
and close cooperation. During the season, 
down its 24 runs—all lighted and reached 
by eight double chair lifts and two rope 
tows—overnight and weekend fugitives 
from Manhattan enjoy what Skiing maga- 
zine has called “an unqualified Good 
Thing.” It’s summer now and, of course, 
the ski area is quiet; for conventions 
and other big meetings, however, the 
Playboy Activities Director can arrange 
30-minute scenic rides to the summit on 
the chair lifts, running at half speed. On 
a clear day, you can see—if not forever— 
at least to the Catskills, 90 miles away. 

Foremost among one's expectations for 
a Playboy operation are good food, hearty 
drinks—and Bunnies. All these are avail- 
able in superabundance at Great Gorge, 
where the Bunny contingent, at full 
strength of 120, is the largest in the 
Playboy empire. Bunny Mother Sandra 
Schiffer is virtually besieged, in fact, with 
applicants for cottontail jobs: “I only 
interview about once a month, and each 
time from 70 to 100 girls call to ask for 
an appointment. We don’t advertise or 
ing; the girls just hear, by word of 


126 mouth. that it's a good place to work.” 


Sandy has picked an outstanding crop, 
too; Great Gorge Bunny of the Year 
Waren Smith, for example, is working on 
her master's degree in mass communica- 
tions at Montclair State College, teaching 
full time in a public school—and Bunny 
hopping on weekends. Bunnies Saundra 
‘Tkacs and Bea Edelstein already have 
master's degrees, and several girls are jug- 
gling undergraduate studies with Club- 
Hotel working schedules. 

The one eating spot in the Hotel where 
you won't find Bunnies is the Deli, 
where some fourscore caricatures of note- 
worthy personalities from Redd Foxx to 
Henry Kissinger cover the walls. It's open 
24 hours a day, serving everything from 
the Outdoor Sportsman Breakfast (ham 
steak and eggs, glazed banana, pineapple 
slice and hashbrowns) through luncheon 
(eggs, appetizers, hot and cold sand- 
wiches, desserts), dinner (chicken in a 
pot, English steak) and middle-ofthe- 
night noshes (bagels, lox and cream 
cheese). Whenever hunger pangs strike, 
the Deli can provide. (So can room 
service, which also operates around 
the clock.) 

Adjacent to the Deli is the Playmate 
Bar, open for lunch, dinner and after- 
show snacks, as well as cocktails. Lunch- 
eon here features sandwiches, salads 
and a chef's special, Turkey Leonardi in 
casserole; dinner might be fried chicken 
with corn on the cob or filet mignon with 
Béarnaise sauce. (Available any time: 
high-rise cheesecake.) Farther along the 
main corridor is the Living Room, scene 
of the lavish Italian Fiesta Buffet. which 
has to be seen to be believed: antipasto, 
pasta, main courses—veal parmigiana, 
shrimp alla marinara, chicken caccia 
tore—cheeses, breads, fruits, desserts and 
‘open casks of wine. “Overwhelming” was 
the verdict of visitor Russel Cozic of 
Garfield, New Jersey, as he viewed the 
spread, Carrying out the Italian theme, 
опе entire 104-foot wall is covered with 
what artist LeRoy Neiman considers one 
of his more important works—a mural, 
Harlequin's Entry into Venice, based on 
a classic tapestry depicting the principal 
characters of the commedia dell'arte: 
апе Punchinello, Pierrot and 

Neiman's paintings and 
fact, appear throughout the 
Club-Hotcl, but his most unusual assign- 
ment unquestionably came just before its 
December 1971 opening, when a state 
liquor inspector raised his eyebrows and 
lowered his thumb at the illuminated 
transparencies of centerfold nudes in the 
Playmate Bar. Bare skin and strong spi 
don't mix in the New Jersey legal code, 


—painting bikinis on the gatefold girls, 
(Since that time, the original photos have 
been replaced with more discreetly 
posed Playmates.) 


Farther along is the Sidewalk Café, 
which manages a genuinely outdoorsy 
mood with its three-story waterfall, gold. 
fish ponds and 34-foothigh hickory tree 
soaring toward upper-floor balconies 
"The fare is casual—hot dogs, hamburgers, 
chili, draft beer. Within this area are the 
newly opened Oyster Bar (fresh seafood, 
chilled wines) and the cocktails-only 
Man at Leisure Bar. 

Upstairs, on the fifth floor, is the VIP 
Room, specializing in fine wines and 
Continental cuisine (escargots, Dover 
sote, lobster Newburg, rack of lamb per- 
sille, baba au rhum). Here everything is 
in blue and silver; the flicker of candles 
and soft strains from the piano heighten 
the mood of quiet luxury. Down the hall 
is the Penthouse, which draws the biggest 
names in show business to entertain ca 
pacity houses of 700. Sight lines are excel 
lent; there literally is not a bad seat in 
the house. “I was really impressed," said 
guest Stella Corbells of coastal Barnegat, 
New Jersey. “Most night club showrooms 
at big resorts are drafty and barnlike, but 
despite its size, the Penthouse #5 ti 
mate. We could almost reach out and 
shake hands with Frank Gorshin on- 
stage.” Dining in the Penthouse? Choose 
from brook trout, prime rib of beef or 
filet mignon. 

Besides the headliners in the main 
showroom, the indoor entertainment in- 
cludes a pop group at the Playmate Bar, 
disco dancing to a light show in the 
Bunny Hutch, movies for adults and chil- 
dren, a battery of electronic and other 
amusement devices in the neverclosed 
Game Room, swimming, table tennis, lec- 
tures. And for restorative purposes, visit 
the men’s or women’s health club, with 
complete exercise facilities, saunas, a 
steam room and the first 20-person whirl- 
pool bath ever built by Jacuzzi 

‘Outdoor types find golf the name of 
the game for three seasons of the year 
The course at Great Gorge, designed by 
architect George Fazio with Doug San- 
ders consulting, can be just as exacting as 
the player cares to make it; multiple tees 
allow for gradations of difficulty. Ruler 
of the greens is affable pro Pat Schwab, 
three times state golfing champion and 
president of the New Jersey section of the 
Professional Golf Association, Schwab is 
unabashedly proud of his course and is 
planning to expand it. “We can handle 
around 360 golfers a day now, with 27 
holes" he expl 
more holes we'll be in a much more com- 
fortable situation." What's the best fea 
ture of the present setup? "We have a 
course here that gives you a chance to use 
just about every club in your bag,” 
Schwab says. “It’s got varied terrain, 28 
acres of water hazards, some spectacular 
scenery. Three holes were actually carved 
through an old limestone quarry.” 

(continued on page 170) 


Sor the first time in his life, the world’s slickest 
smuggler had a job to do with the odds stacked against him 


fiction BY ROBERT L. FSFI 1 suppose if I were watching 
television coverage of the return of a lunar mission and Кек Huuygens climbed out 
of the command module after splashdown, I shouldn't be greatly surprised. I'd be 
even less surprised to see Kek hustled aboard the aircraft carrier and given a thorough search 
by a suspicious Customs official. Кек, you see, is one of those men who turn up at very odd times in 
unexpected places. Also, he is rated by the customs services of nearly every nation in the world 
as the most talented smuggler alive. Polish by birth, Dutch by adopted name, the holder of a valid U.S. 
passport, multilingual, a born sleight-of-hand artist, Kek is an elusive target for the stolid bureaucrat who thinks in 
terms of hollow shoe heels and suitcases with false bottoms. Now and then over the years, (continued on page 130) 


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THE WAGER 


Kek has allowed me to publish a little of 
his lore in my column. When I came 
across him last, however, he was doing 
something very ordinary in a common- 
place setting. Under the critical eye of a 
waiter, he was nursing a beer at a table 
in that litle sunken-gardcn affair in 
Rockefeller Center. 

Before I got to his table, I ried to read 
the dues. Kek had a good tan and he 
looked healthy. But his suit had a shine 
that came from wear rather than from silk. 
thread. A neat scissors trim didn't quite 
conceal the fact that his cuffs were frayed. 
He was not wearing his usual boutonniere, 

“I owe you three cognacs from last 
time—Vaduz, wasnt it?—and I'm buy- 
ng,” I said as I sat down. 

“You are a man of honor,” he said and 
called to the waiter, naming a most ex- 
pensive cognac. Then he gave me his 
wide, friendly smile. “Yes, you have read 
the signs and they are true—but not for 
any reasons you might imagine. Sitting 
before you, you can observe the impover- 
ishment that comes from total success. 
Failure can be managed. but success can 
be a most difficult thing to control. ...” 

Hidden inside every Kek Huuygens 
aphorism there is а story somewhere, But 
if you want it produced, you must pre- 
tend complete indifference. “Ah, yes," I 
said, “failure is something you know in 
your heart. Success is something that lies 
in the eye of the beholder. I think- К 

“Ро you want to hear the story or don't 
you?" Kek said. “You can't use it in your 
column, though, I warn you." 

“Perhaps in time?" 

"Perhaps in time, all barbarous cus 
toms regulations will be repealed.” he 
said. “Perhaps the angels will come down 
to rule the earth. Until then, you and I 
alone share this story.” That was 
Kek's way of saying “Wait until things 
have cooled off.” 

lt all began in Las Vegas (Huuygens 
said) and was primarily caused by two 
unfortunate factors: onc, that I spoke the 
word banco aloud and, two, that it was 
heard. I am still not convinced that the 
player against me wasn't the world's best. 
card manipulator, but at any rate, I 
found myself looking at a jack and a nine, 
while the best I could manage for myself 
was a six. So 1 watched my money disap- 
pear, got up politely to allow the next 
standce to take my place and started for 
the exit. I had enough money in the hotel 
safe to pay my bill and buy me a ticket. 
back to New York—a simple precaution 
1 recommend to all who never learn to 
keep quiet in a baccarat game—and a few 
dollars in my pocket, but my financial po- 
sition was not one any sensible banker 

130 would have lent money against. I was sure 


PLAYBOY 


(continued from page 127) 


something would turn up, as it usually 
did, and in this case it curned up even 
faster than usual, because I hadn't even 
reached the door before I was stopped. 

"The man who put his hand on my arm 
did so in а completely fricndly manncr, 
and I recalled him as being one of the 
group standing around the table during 
the play. There was something faintly fa- 
miliar about him, but even quite famous 
faces are disregarded at a baccarat table; 
one is not there to collect autographs. 
The man holding my arm was short, 
heavy, swarthy and of a type to cause 
instant distaste on the part of any dis- 
cerning observer. What caught and 
held my attention was that he addressed 
me by name—and in French. "M'sieu 
Huuygens?" he said. To my absolute 
amazement, he pronounced it correctly. 
1 acknowledged that I was, indeed, M'sieu 
Kek Huuygens. “I should like to talk with 
you a moment and to buy you a drink," 
he said. 

"I could use one,” I admitted. and 1 al- 
Jowed him to lead mc into the bar. As we 
went, 1 noticed two men who had been 
standing to one side studying their finger- 

ails; they now moved with us and took 
ns to each side, still study- 
One would think that 
fingernails were a subject that could 
quickly bore, but apparently not to those 
twa As Isat down beside my chubby hast, 
I looked at him once morc, and suddenly 
recognition came. 

He saw the light come on in the little 
cirde over my head and smiled, showing 
a dazzling collection of white teeth, a trib- 
ute to the art of the dental laboratory. 

"Yes" he said, "I am Antoine Duvi 
vier," and waved over а waiter. We or- 
dered and | returned my attention to 
him. Duvivier, as you must know—cven 
newspapermen listen to the radio, 1 as- 
sumc—was the president of the island of 
St. Michel in the Caribbean, or had been 
until his loyal subjects decided that presi- 
dents should be elected, after which he 
departed in the middle of the night, tak- 
ing with him most of his country's treas- 
ury. He could sec the wheels turning in 
my head as I tried to see how I could use 
this information to my advantage, and I 
must say he waited politely enough while 
I was forced to give up on the problem. 
“Then he said, “I have watched you play 
at baccarat.” 

We received our drinks and 1 sipped, 
waiting for him to go on. 

"You are quite a gambler, M'sieu 
Huuygens," he said, "but, of course, you 
would have to be, in your line of work." He 
saw my eyebrows go up and added quite 
coolly, “Yes, M'sieu Huuygens, I have 
had you investigated, and thoroughly. 
But please permit me to explain that it 
was not done from idle curiosity. 1 am. 
interested in making you a proposition." 


I find, in situations like this, the less 
said the better, so I said nothing. 

"Yes" he went on, "I should like to 
offer you" He paused. as if reconsid- 
cring his words, actually looking embar- 
rassed, as if he were guilty of a gaffe. “Let 
me rephrase that," he said and searched 
for a better approach. At last he found it 
“What I meant was, I should like to make 
a wager with you, a wager I am sure 
should be most interesting ıo а gambler 
such as yourself.” 

‘This time, of course, 1 had to answer, so 
I said, “Oh?” 

"Yes he said, pleased at my instant 
understanding. “I should like to wager 
twenty thousand dollars of my money, 
against two dollars of yours, that you will 
not bring a certain object from the Carib- 
bean through United States Customs and 
deliver it to me in New York City.” 

I must admit I admire bluntness, even 
though the approach was not particularly 
unique. “The odds are reasonable,” 1 ad. 
mitted. “One might even say generous. 
What type of object are we speaking of?” 

He lowered his voice. “It is a carving," 
he said. "A Ticn Tsc Huwai, dating back 
to eight centuries before Christ. It is of 
ivory and is not particularly large; 1 
imagine it could fit into your coat pocket, 
although, admittedly, it would be bulky. 
It depicts a village scene—but you, 1 
understand, are an art connoisseur; you 
may have heard of it. In translation, its 
name is The Village Dance.” Normally, 
I can control my features. but my sur- 
prise must have shown, for Duvivier 
went on in the same soft voice. “Yes, 1 
The carving behind that glass 
case in the St. Michel National Gallery 
is а copy—a plastic casting, excellently 
done, but a copy. The original is at the 
home of a friend in Barbados. I could 
that far, but I was afraid to attempt 
ing it the rest of the way; to have 
lost it would have been tragic. Since then, 
I have been looking for a man clever 
enough to get it into the States without 
being stopped by Customs.” He suddenly 
grinned, those white blocks of teeth al- 
most blinding me. "I am offering ten- 
thousand-to-one odds that that clever 
man is not you.” 

It was а cute ploy, but that was not 
what interested me at the moment. 

“M'sieu,” 1 said simply, "permit me 
a question: I am familiar with the Tien 
Village Dance. 1 have never seen it, but it 
received quite a bit of publicity when 
your National Gallery purchased it, since 
it was felt—if you will pardon me—that 
the money could have been used better 
elsewhere. However, my surprise а mo- 
ment ago was not that you have the carv- 
ing: it was at your offer. The Tien, many 
years in the future, may, indeed, com- 
mand a large price, but the figure your 

(continued on page 207) 


fichon 


By RGBERT E YOUNG 


he knew his 

brilliance would 

be rewarded—even 

if it wasn’t in thts world 


fs 


CL 


THE ШИЕ 
MACHINE 


CAMERA NUMBER ONE: At long last, my 
time machine has become a reality! 
Late-afternoon sunlight filters through 
its translucent panels, lies like a golden 
carpet upon the floor of my lodgings. 
Traffic noises from far below, muted by 
its photon field, faintly reach my ears as 
I recline upon the satin pillows of my 
sumptuous studio couch, gazing fondly at 
the concretion of my lifelong dream. 
Soon—tonight, perhaps, no later than 
tomorrow—I shall take that giant step 


COREY 


132 


forward so long envisioned by my erstwhile colleagues 
and myself. And I shall never return. 

CAMERA NUMBER Two: The time machine is the dirty 
window of his lodgings seen through thick subjective 
lenses. His lodgings consist of a sordid fourthstory 
room that contains a bed, a chair, a bureau and a lava- 
tory. In one corner of the room there isa pile of empty 
wine bottles. In another corner there is a pile of dusty 
notebooks. Scraps of paper covered with erratic jottings 
litter the floor. He is lying on the Бей, wearing the same 
dothes he wore yesterday and the day before, that 
he has slept in for two nights running. The toilet is 
down the hall. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: The machine incorporates the 
photon diffusion principle I described in the paper 
that I published in the Scientific Ledger—the same 
paper, incidentally, that estranged my colleagues and 
led ultimately to my expulsion from the project. The 
warp principle, on which the original grant for the 
project was obtained, has become in their eyes a sort of 
sacred cow, and in advancing a much more practicable 
solution to the problem of time travel I inadvertently 
desecrated the cow and brought down their collective 
wrath upon my head. Thus, instead of heaping upon 
my paper the encomiums it deserved, they contemned 
it and relegated it to the project's dusty files. 

However, I should not judge them too harshly. 
Hutchinson, Hull, Stasser, Bodin—they are all fine and 
honorable men, dedicated to the attainment of the 
noble goal for which the project was created, in their 
hearts as eager as I to find the doorway to tomorrow. 
The paper was a mistake—I see that now. I never 
should have published it. It served only to antagonize 
them, to turn them against me. 

No, 1 should not judge them too harshly 

CAMERA NUMBER Two: He could not judge them 
harshly enough. Hull is a middle-class snob, Stasser 
prizes his little brain as though it were a gold nugget, 
Bodin loves himself scarcely less than he loves his 
neighbor's wife. As for Hutchinson, the position he 
was born to fill is that of postmaster in some small, 
smug American town. 

It is true that they are dedicated men. But they are 
bureaucrats first and scientists second, and it is to the 
perpetuation of the project per se that they are dedicat- 
ed, not to the attainment of its goal. Grieze’s diametri- 
cally different approach to the problem of breaching 
the time barrier impugned the validity of the warp 
principle and jeopardized future grants. For them to 
have endorsed it would have been unthinkable. 

Nevertheless, it was not Grieze's paper that occa- 
sioned his dismissal. It was Grieze himself. Grieze is a 
drunk. It is that drunks are born. In Grieze's case, 
this is not quite true. He became a drunk at the age of 
seven when his second-grade schoolteacher slapped his 
face, repeatedly and resoundingly. for committing the 
heinous crime of whispering to the girl who sat behind 
him. The years that elapsed between that moment and 
the moment he took his first drink are irrelevant. 

But to say that Grieze is a drunk only serves to give 
credence to the official—not the real—reason he was 
fired. There is an old verse: 


I do not love thee, Dr. Fell; 
The reason why I cannot tell; 


But this 1 know, and know full well: 
I do not love thee, Dr. Fell. 


Grieze is endowed with what must be called, for lack 
of a better term, anticharisma. No one likes him. No 
onc ever has. He turns everybody off. Men, women, 
children. 

His wife, Mildred, loved him for a little while, but 
she never liked him. 

Even dogs do not like him. 

It is highly probable that his second-grade school- 
teacher hated him. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: If ever an occasion called for a 
celebration, this one does. I go over to my liquor cabi- 
nct, select a bottle of my favorite brandy and pour my- 
self three generous fingers. Returning to the couch, I 
take a measured sip and resume my position on the 
comfortable pillows—— 

CAMERA NUMBER Two: He steps over to the bat- 
tered bureau, uncaps the pint of Old Friar muscatel he 
brought home with him after spending the afternoon 
in the Poker Chip Café, carries the bottle back to the 
bed, takes a long pull and flops back down onto the 
filthy sheets. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: I resume my contemplation of 
the time machine. The longer I gaze at it, the more 
fascinated I become, the more compelled to set sail at 
once for Tomorrow. There is no longer any need for 
me to tarry. I have been to see Mildred and have said 
goodbye to her. I went there this morning. It is true 
that I said goodbye mutely and from a distance. It 
would have been cruel to have acted otherwise. More- 
over, I do not believe I could have borne the pain and 
the distress that would have leaped into her eyes had I 
told her point-blank that I am going away, never to 
return. It is better this way—better that she be ap- 
prised gradually by my continued absence that the life 
we shared has officially come to an end and that she 
must continue without me. 

CAMERA NUMBER TWO: He stood on the wind-blown 
corner, shivering in the wind, and watched her come 
out the door by which both had once gone in; watched 
her descend the porch steps and walk down the walk to 
the gleaming Olds 88 in which her latest lover waited 
behind the wheel; stood there, seeing neither car nor 
driver, only her walking—walking down the walk, lithe 
and graceful, lovely still, despite the years, and the re- 
membered face still thin, thinner, perhaps, yet soft, 
soft, soft, the memories serving as a gauzy veil to hide 
the hardness he had always known was there and pre- 
tended wasn't, the way he pretended then, standing on 
the wind-blown corner shivering in the wind of time. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: But tonight is not a suitable oc- 
casion to brood over sad farewells—tonight is an осса- 
sion to make merry, to go forth and show the world 
by one's very demeanor, by the jauntiness of one's 
step, that time's seemingly rigid prison bars сап be 
bent and that its seemingly impervious prison walls 
can be breached, 

1 finish my brandy, rise from my sumptuous couch 
and replace the glass on the liquor cabinet. Leaving my 
lodgings, I descend the apartment manor's helical stair- 
way to the avenue —— 

CAMERA NUMBER TWo: He kills the rest of the pint, 
gets up from the rumpled bed, tosses the bottle into 


in heaven!” 


“Not so much noise, girl—you'll get your reward 


133 


the corner, leaves the wretched little room. 
and lurches down four flights of noisome 
stairs to the street. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: In the last light 
of day I walk north to Center, where the 
posh Poker Chip stands upon the corner, 
its windows glowing warmly in the dusk. 
Entering the elegantly furnished interior, 
1 stride over to the leather-upholstered 
bar along whose length a number of neat- 
ly dressed businessmen are sitting, their 
attention focused on the television screen, 
where an American historical drama is 
in progress. At length Dave, the bartend- 
er, perceives my presence and, smiling 
warmly, comes over to where I ат stand- 
ing and asks me what I would like. It 
happens that my favorite brandy is fresh- 
ly out of stock. Since my sensitive palate 
will not tolerate inferior brands, I turn 
my back on the bar and stride from 
the room—— 

CAMERA NUMBER TWO: He goes into the 
shabby little gin mill where he spent the 
afternoon and a hundred other after- 
noons, edges between two winos who 
are watching Gunsmoke and orders a 
glass of muscacel, When the bartender re- 
fuses to serve he returns unsteadily 
to the street. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: I visit three simi- 
lar establishments and in each I am told 
the same sorry tale. It is too much. Worse, 
the sudden dearth of my favorite brandy 
serves to point up a truth of which I have 
long been aware but up to now have 
avoided facing: The present no longer 
takes cognizance of my whims and wants 
—in effect, it has forgotten my existence. 
I am stranded on a lofty peak, washed 
there by the ebb and flow of the cruel 
human tide—a lonely pinnacle from 
which there is no descending. 

CAMERA NUMBER туо: It is a pinnacle 
of his own making. It is constructed of 
empty muscatel and white-port bottles 
mortared by Grieze's middle-class devo- 
tion to а never-quite-realized poshlust life 
style and by his y to see either 
himself or the world with more than an 
iota of objectivity. 

How long ago did he lower the filmy 
curtain through which he gazes with 
muscatel-muddied eyes? Through which 
cheap wine takes on the texture of expen- 
sive brandy and the telangiectasis afflict- 
ing his face passes for the rose-red bloom 
of youth? Was it when he realized that 
the project to which he had devoted ten 
years of his life was but another bureau- 
cratic hoax? Was it when he discovered 
that his colleagues thought no more of 
him because of his mind than the rest of 
the world did because of his personality? 
Did iı date back to the moment he first 
knew, without quite knowing how he 
knew, that his wife shared someone's bed 
besides his own? 

Or did he lower it on that distant, con- 
134 sciously forgotten day when his second- 


PLAYBOY 


grade schoolteacher slapped his face? 

Such curtains are not easily come by. 
Sometimes they require half a lifetime 
to create. Thus, while Grieze probably 
lowered his when he was seven, it only 
gradually acquired the consummate dis- 
tortion effect that characterizes it today. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: After stopping 
at a discreet little liquor establishment 
and purchasing two bottles of the brandy 
so inexplicably lacking in the better bars, 
І return to my apartment manor and 
ascend the helical stairway—somewhat 
wearily, 1 must admit—to my lodgings. 

1 do not switch on the lights. I do not 
feel like brightness. Besides, the time ma- 
chine provides illumination enough. As 
1 stand there toasting it, I am captivated 
by its simple lines, awed by the unlimited 
freedom it represents. Its photon field 
pulses with a red raw energy reminiscent 
of a powerful neon light. The redness 
washes over me and the walls and ceiling 
of my lodgings seem bathed with blood. 

As I stand there, unmindful of the on- 
ward rushing river of the night, deaf to 
the cacophony of the city, blind to all else 
save my machine, 1 am gradually over- 
whelmed by the conviction that my mo- 
ment of departure is at hand. The 
machine's controls are preset, its portal 
will open of its own accord. The photon 
field will transmit me the instant 1 leap. 
into it. 

The muscles of my calves and thighs 
tense in anticipation of my command. 
But the command does not come. Some- 
thing draws me back into the room, I find 
that I am sweating, that my entire body is 
trembling. A terrible exhaustion washes 
over me and I collapse upon the couch. 
There, | fall into a deep, dreamless 
sleep 

CAMERA NUMBER TWO: Dreamless to 
him, because he will not remember the 
dream. 

It isa recurrent dream. In it, he is mak- 
ing his way through the gray aisles of a 
rain-canopy forest. The aisles are anfrac- 
tuous and not a single ray of sunlight 
reaches them through the thick foliage 
above. Around him in the gloom, the 
leaves of the trees are whispering. He 
does not want them to whisper and he 
begs them to be still—not to betray his 
whereabouts to his pursuer. There is a 
native settlement not far away, and if 
he can reach it before he is overtaken, he 
will be safe. 

But it becomes increasingly evident 
that the leaves do not want him to reach 
the settlement, for they keep whispering 
Jouder and louder, unerringly pointing 
out his position with their tiny sonic 
fingers. He is here! He is here! He is 
here! Up ahead, there is a faint stirring 
of the underbrush. The crack of a 
snapped twig reaches his ears. He halts in 
a sudden nce. Around him, the world 
stands still. 

He wants to turn and flee, but he 


cannot. He is certain that his pursuer, 
guided by the whispering of the treach- 
erous leaves, has detoured around him 
and waits for him to pass. Then the 
underbrush. parts, revealing, to his con- 
sternation and delight, the face of a rosy- 
cheeked girl. 

Smiling at him reassuringly, she steps 
ош of the underbrush. She is tall, lithe 
and lovely. Her clothing consists of a 
miniskirt woven of leaves and kick boots 
made of bark. From each of her nipples is 
suspended a silver pendant shaped like a 
U-235 atom. Her black hair drifts down 
to her shoulders, emitting sporadic sparks 
of pulsing light. 

She points at a right angle to the direc- 
tion he has been traveling, beckons 
to follow her and plunges out of sight 
among the trees. Certain that she knows 
a short cut to the settlement, he plunges 
after her. Only she can save him now. Ak 
ready he can hear his pursuer's padded 
footsteps behind him, the sound of heavy 
breathing, the susurrus of tawny flanks 
brushing against tangled vines. And 
above these sounds, the tattletale whis 
pering of the leaves. 

Up ahead, the nymph has halted. Now 
she turns and beckons furiously to him to 
hurry. Leg muscles straining, his heart а 
clenched fist in his chest, he tries to obe: 
Subtly the ground beneath his feet ac 
quires а strange softness. It seems to be 
caving in. It ts caving in! Grass, t 
dead leaves, earth are all falling, fall- 
ing, falling, and he is falling, too. Down, 
down, down. Above him, the dryad 
laughs; below him, he can see four wait- 
ing serpents, each bearing the face of a 
man. He recognizes Hutchinson, Stasser, 
Hull and Bodin. All of them are smiling 
broadly and presently they interweave 
their ophidian bodies to form a fireman's 
net to break his fall, He is saved! 

The net proves to be as resilient as a 
trampoline, and after he lands on it, he 
finds himself rebounding from the pit: it 
is all а great joke, he sees that now; the 
dryad is still laughing and she has been 
joined by che gaunt lioness from whom 
he has been fleeing, and the two of them, 
the lioness and the dryad, are sitting 
on the edge of the pit, laughing uproar- 
iously, the lioness displaying two great 
tiers of gleaming Pepsodent-polished 
teeth. As he passes, she makes a playful 
swipe at him with her right forepaw, 
catching him on the side of the head and 
tearing away half of his face. The force 
of the blow sends him cartwhceling back 
through the forest aisles to the dawn of 
anew day. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: My lodgings are 
cobwebbed with the remnants of night as 
1 arise to greet the morning. Dawn has 
painted the panels of the time machine a 
pale pink. 

I step into my ultramodern bathroom, 
with its chrome fixtures and gleaming 

(continued on page 194) 


П "n^ ° 
NINA OF THE TANBARK 


although she bears a revered circus name, this cristiani has opted for acting 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY ALEXAS URBA 


135 


the high trapeze and perch, the Cristianis are 

the Royal Family of Circusdom," wrote John 
and Alice Durant in their Pictorial History of the 
American Circus. Tina was part of it from the age 
of five, putting the elephants through their paces. 
balancing on aerial ladders—till the day she took a 
close look at one of her aunts and saw how she'd 
been prematurely aged by her years of nerve-racking 
activity. So Tina left the big top and went to New York 
to study acting. Seasoned by stage plays and 
TV commercials, she makes her film debut in the 
imminent Paramount release Badge 373. 


Wis: of bareback riding. tumbling. juggling, 


Tina’s always had a special fondness for 
clowns: “The cliché about the sad story 
behind the clown's face is really true 
Many of them have had unhappy lives. 
And you can tell a lot about a clown 
by his make-up—there's always a sad 
element, no matter how big the smile 
is. They get to people because they take 
their most vulnerable points and dramatize 
them." Right А skilled equestrienne, 
Tina has been riding since she was three. 


Between tours, Tina lived a more-or-less 
“normal” life in Sarasota. Florida. But on 
the road, it was different he circus has 
its own codes and mores—there's a lot of 
rivalry, combined with stick-togetherness. 
It was like growing up in a fantasy, and 
| had to make a lot of adjustments when | 
went out into the real world. But my circus 
background enabled me to plunge into th 
theater and learn all aspects of my work." 
Which ts how to make it in any business 


working on the rescue squad is a 
big responsibility; your face is the 
last one а lot of people will ever see 


article BY DONN PEARCE 


OUTH BEACH is where the town 
started. The years went by, the wars, the 
inventions. Progress marched away 
to the north. Hotels became bigger 
and more lavish. Mansions were 
constructed. Islands were dredged 
ош of Biscayne Bay. Causeways. 
Throughways. Motels. "Traffic. The 
Fontainebleau. Eden Roc, Gradually, 
South Beach became old-fashioned, 
then marginal, and finally a slum. 

Below Lincoln Road it is all stucco 
and tile roofs and Mediterranean styles. 
Or it is flat roofs and cubistic balconies 
in the style that couldn't possibly be 

ed anything but "moderne." It is all 
lime green and sun-bleached pink and 
turquoise and washed-out blue, the 
apartment houses with names like 
Aloha, Parkedge, Elaine, Jem Arms, 
Avon House and Esplanade. 

An old woman is in a wheelcl 
being pushed up the sidewalk bya 
young black girl. She holds a cigarette 
in her upraised fingers as though 
shushing for silence, her head turned at 
an angle, smiling and listening very 
carefully. But is it the wind rustling 
through the palms? Or is she listening - 
to the blare of radios, the jets overhead, 
the neighbors sitting on the front 
porches fenced in by slats of jalousie 
windows? Or are they still other voices, 
inflected with hard accents. softened 
by the humid air and the shadows, by 
time and (continued on page 146) 


ILLUSTRATION BY DON IVAN PUNCHATZ 


“Ts forecourt anything like forepla 


THE VARGAS GIRL 


а cat o? nine tales trom an indonesian folk tale 


ever take one to wife. Since his 
ns Unlucky Dog. perhaps this 
iness was justified. But all his sour rc- 
solves vanished when he saw the be: 
Yaya, Surely, he thought, thi 
maiden could conceive no thought but 
fidelity to a lusty, though elderly, hus- 
band such as I! 

Accordingly, he married. her. 
thereafter, it seemed that if Y. 
anything of a саке nature, it was only 

a her liking to be stroked—so much so 
that Lo Latjut found the eltort posi- 
tively exhausting. As time went on, his 
evil speculations returned. “You smiled 
Bon Thugh as you went to market!" 
he shouted. And "You lay down with 
Poleng in the rice paddy! It is not up 
to you to make the rice shoots fertile! 
d he beat her about the shoulders 
with his knobby stick. 

“But I only went to the well for 
cried Vaya truthfully. 
vo liest" he cried, stroke! stroke! "I 
know very well that Poleng has а long 
inga. And Bon Thugh is said to be as 
water bullalo! But your duty 
isto me! Now, confess!" 

When she would not, he decided to 
frighten her into better w: 
the dukun, his magici: 


At first 


problem is s said the 
dukun, raking his gray bead with his 
long fingern: а 

black, аз one must when one pra 
black magic. “Though expensive, 
added, eying the distressed. husband's 
money pouch. "Since you say women are 
like cats, I will turn your wife into onc. 
meed to catch rats for her daily meal, 
she will speedily become chastened and 


return to your arms as a devoted and 


loyal w 

Accordingly, Vaya found herself in the 
dark hut of the ugly m where, 
before her husband ned 
into a small gray cat. “Leave her with m 
foi ction,” said the dukun, and the 
husband reluctantly departed. 

For a lew hours, the magician permit- 


ted her to suler the terrors of being 
chased by his dogs. "Now, my 
sweet one,” he murmured, "now you 
will scc—this punishment will be no 
punishment at all! For each night. 
when 1 stroke you three times, you will 

n your proper shape! Then you 


share my bed, and 1 promise, by all 
the gods of Lombok, [have more energy 
and skill for giving you pleasure than 
your doddering old husband! 
But at these words the ung 
gave a horrified yowl, raked her claws 
long his scrawny arms, leaped through 
the window and fled down the muddy 
street. Yet she did not forget the words 
of her husband: "Poleng has а long 
эра." And so she ducked through the 


doorway where Poleng lived alone. 


"How soft you are!" he He 
stroked the cat once and her sinuous body 
ppled under his hand. He stroked 


her again and she seemed to melt and 
grow, whiskers and rail shrinking. six 
y breasts joining to form two round 
globes. He stroked her a third time— 
nd he held a beautiful naked wom: 

1 his arms. To case her trembling, 
continued to stroke her. In cert 
she responded as a cat might, until fin 
s he laid her on the bed. he drew from 
her sounds that listeners outside might 
have interpreted as piercing mews. 


Alas, when Poleng awoke in the morn- 
p. there was only а gray cat in his bed. 
‘Oh, woe!” he cried. Where were the 


round breasts tl 
his hand, the 1o 
to welcome him? 


tame to points under 
ly thighs that opened 


Now Yaya thought of the second man 
her husband had unwittingly recom- 
mended, so she wandered down thc 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND 


Ribald Classic 


street and slipped into Bon Thugh's hut 
to observe how he looked before he 
wrapped the sarong around his tree- 
trunk thighs. 

That night Bon Thugh was surprised 
to find wriggling on his lap, and 
even more surprised when а wom: 
amazingly appeared and responded 10 
him with lusty wicks of love. 

In the morning, belore he went to 
the rice paddy, Bon Thugh pulled on 
a shirt to hide the scratches that, though 
seeming le in а dream, crisscrossed 
his back. 

Three days later, Bon Thugh's 
pet slipped out of his hut, for she was 
convinced that the gods had granted her 
а special opportunity to learn all the 
varieties of men and their different ways 
of making love. Her studies continued 
thus until she had visited all eight bach- 
elors of the village, and if ever wo 
received an education calculated to 
her а satisfactory wife, that woman 
was Yaya 

Meanwhile, Lo nd the dukun 
rched for her throughout the village. 
Strangely, whenever they pounced on a 
gray cat, one of the sturdy bachelors of 
the village would grab for her at the 
same time, so that they suffered many 
blows, as well as scratches, in the ensu 
ing tug ol war, Yet none they caughi 
seemed to hold the spirit of the beaut 
ful Yay 

“You 


t 


must find her!” moaned 
battered husband, "Surely her puni 
nt has gone on long enough!" 


the 


gritting his teeth. 
“Then restore her to me; 
lucky Dog, “or you will have по fee!" 
t Yaya, hearing these words from 
d а wall, fled till she reached the 
kings house. That night, and every 
night thereafter, the king proved to her 
he had as long a linga as Pole 
much skill in using it as Bon Thugh and 
as many other virtues as all eight bache 
lors combined. not 
clor, having be s a child to 
ihe homely neighboring 
king. whom it was i nt not to of- 
fend. But his wife retired to her own 
chamber at night and was pleased to 
pamper the small cat that she saw only 
by d 
“H's very odd. and I am sorry for you." 
the queen murmured to Yaya, "but the 
king has banished all tomcats from the 
palace. Now. why would he do tl 
But Yaya had no complaints 
At last her husband and the magician 
carried their scarch even into the palace. 
There Lo Latjut found what he sought 
He pointed a trembling finger at Yay 
nd cried: “That gray cat is my wile!” 
But the king only smiled. "Then find 
other cat, old man," he s 
you know—at night all cats are gi 
—Retold by Kenneth Marcuse 


Е 145 


WWII 2a) а 6 
WIN SOME, LOSS SOME 
memory, still explaining how hard it 
all is, how crooked it all is, how impos- 
sible to make sense, to make justice, to 
make a dollar? 

Another woman is carrying a shopping 
bag emblazoned with the word—and with 
a map ol—FLoRIDA. She is wearing а leop- 
ardskin-fabric jacket. She has а leopard- 
pattern scarf. Her feet shuflle on the 
idewalk. She wears sunglasses. She has no 
hips at all and her stoc 
lessly on her th 
scs а large hibiscus bush. 
out. She stops 
talking to it. 


PLAYBOY 


Between runs, you stood by at the sta- 
tion. Television sets were going. Tcle- 
phones rang. Metal lockers opened and 
banged. Shower 
things were going on in the kitchen. Guys 
were coming upstairs from the volleyball 
court. The regular firemen were dressed 
in gray. Next to beds. lockers. desks or 
polished-brass poles were their boots with 
their empty bunker pants carefully rolled 
down over the tops. Standing guard, 
those boots were ready. All the men had. 
wide, reach 
down, yank up their pants and run. 

But the others were wearing sky-blue 
jump suits with short black-leather boots. 
On their backs it said rir RESCU 

And it was between runs when 1 heard 
about the gory ones, the weird ones, those 
cases that went beyond the ordin 
stroke and heart attack and pulmon 
pneumonia and traffic injuries. Like the 
who had been hit by a car wl 
ssing the street. He had been wiped 
over the asphalt, leaving a painted streak 
of gore and blood that ended in а tangled 
heap of scattered brain and smashed arms 
nd legs. The car didn’t even stop. Or the 
guy who went off the roof of a condomin- 
ium and landed in a soft flower bed, half- 
burying himself in the ground. Or the old 
dy who had carefully climbed a ladder 
nto a tree. It was late at night. Methodi- 
ally, she broke away the twigs and sn 
her way. Then, 


to do was shove their feet 


‚ she hung h 
nd her in the morning. 
mas and a full-length mink coat, her eyes 
open, her tongue swollen and prot 
and coated with а swarm of flies. At first 
he thought it arecrow of some 


a 


kind. 
The tanned, athletic young guy was 
slumped in а chair, his legs straight out. 


his eye 


Hickering back to the television 
set and away again as he told me about 
the man who did a dive off the roof of a 
iwostory building to land square on his 
ad on the sidewalk. It spl 
a rotten fruit, splatte 
asked. whose job it was to cl 
mess. The question had never come up. 
мв His partner wandered king his 


(continued from page 143) 
teeth. He didn’t know, either. The sani- 
ion department, maybe. The fire de- 
partment gets called out to hose down 
the street after a bad car accident to wa 
away the gas and oil. But not blood. 
way. He shrugged. ‘The ants would clean 
it up fast enough. 

"Ehe doctor told me about one bizarre 
run they had recently made. They found 
an 85-year-old man dead on аг 
had been married four months. His wife 
lc the call to 
Rescue gs up by the 
time they got there. He told them what 
had happened. The old man was giving it 
10 his wife with a vibrator. But the exci 


ment was too much and his heart failed. 
He died 
h 


h the dildo clutched in his 
nd, still turned on. 
A very young, good-looking fireman 
In't ride rescue anymore. He had be- 
come very depressed by the thousands 
of ailing, crippled, impoverished people 
who live in Zone One, the South Beach 
arca where the average age is over 65. He 
had been shocked at the incidence of 
theft from the ill, the injured and the 
dead. As they would carry them off on 
stretchers, eager volunteers would always 
hobble up to "take care of” their ri 
and watches. But di 
good-looking kid 
twoway radio was missing. Evidently 
a portable transistor, an 
-old woman was running with it 
through the yard and into an alley. He 
chased her around the building, into and 
out of her apartment and through the 
hallway. ‘The radio was still giving coded 
emergency messages as the wiry, stringy 
old lady tenaciously scurried away. By 
the time he caught up with her and pried 
the radio out of her fingers, he was curs- 

g and screaming, Alter a year of it, he 
had to quit and go back to regular duty. 

‘There was an old registered nurse who 
habitually called the emergency medical 
service and then demanded they take her 
Another regular with 
her chest finally admit- 
ted she liked to hear the sirens. They 
cured her by arriving silently when they 
next responded to her calls. One woman 
vas so fat she had to use a walker to move 
around. Her daughter weighed about 
200. She called the firemen to pick her 
mother up to put her on the toilet. When 
one of them made a remark about losing 
weight, she wrote a nasty letter to city 
hall. А woman fainted in front of 
McDonald's hamburger stand. Her pulse 
was 130. She was 74. The rescue men re- 
vived her and told her to go to a hospital 
right away. She refused. An hour later 
they made another run. It was the same 
woman. She was dead when they arrived. 
They call it a signal 45. 

Another woman told the arriving res- 
cue team that she needed an enema. But 
she had the wrong guy. His nickname v 


the Animal, a Neanderthal red-neck 
whose constant urge is to paint a Star of 
David on the side of the van every time 
they pick up a dead Jew. The Animal 
growled at he 

“The only w 
of me, lady, 
when I 


ay you'll get an enema out 
s if my toe squirts w 
ick you in the ass." 

Eleventh Street and Jellerson. € 

One. The team had already made 11 runs 
in the eight hours it had been on duty. 1 
looked over the reports. 
‘Subject complained of being unable 
to move her bowels.” She was 72. “Subject 
complained of being nauseated. Age 80.7 
"Subject was sleeping. Roommate said 
she compl. ‘d of colon trouble. Age 93.7 
Subject was lying on floor. Small cut on 
foot from broken glass tabletop. Belts 
tied together. Apparent suicide attempt. 
Moaning and screaming. Had apparently 
slipped out of noose. Age 74." “Blood 
pressure 210/100. Abdominal pain. Age 
81." "Subject complained of pain in her 
chest. Age 78.” "Subject took sleeping 
pill and didn't know it. Couldn't stay 
awake. Had thimble still on her finger 
as sleeping. 

Dr. Gasteazoro was from Hondur 
was intelligent and charming and li 
talk. He had a private practice in Miami 
Beach but was trying to cut down his 
number of patiei 
enough sleep. Fi 
guard, tall and muscular, hi 
his mustache in the same fierce, medieval 
style as his northern Italian ancestors 
Ray was quiet and unflappable. He was 
6^5", his hair and mustache both conserv. 
ative. He was also a commercial fisher- 
man and scuba diver. He and Frank went 
diving for crayfish together on their days 
oll. As we stood around in the dayroom. 
the doctor smoked a small cigar and de 
scribed a woman patient he once had who 
was worried about her ailment's interfer- 
ing with her sex life. It turned out she 
had sex every day. She was 75. She 
wouldn't tell the doctor what her outlets 
were but insisted she got what she need- 
ed. Most women that age are incapable of 
- The vagina atrophies. The lubrica- 
tion glands dry up. The reproductive or- 
gans shrivel and dic. 

7:01 р.м. Buzzer and bell. Voice on the 
Р.А. "350 Ocean Drive. Lord Balfour 
Hotel. Possible heart attack.” Frank mut- 
tered as we went outside to the va 
that’s the second time today. Same 
address 

We arrived in a little over one minute. 
A small, thin Jewish man sat on a sofa in 
the lobby, a single crutch by his side. 
He was in pain, his breathing shallow. 
He was 72. Frank got the stretcher as 
Ray took his blood pressure. 120/70. 
Very good. But his neck veins were en- 
gorged. It still looked like a cardiac. 
an moaned. He didn't want to 
go to the hospital 
(continued on page 158) 


don 


oniniTED 
BOND 


roger moore lakes over 

as 007 and continues the 
superagent tradition of 
scourging the baddies and 


The face is different, but the game's the some: Rager Moore disports in typical 007 foshion S 2 
with lovelies Jone Seymour (left) and Gloria Hendry (right), Bond's lotost bed buddies. — SETULCULG the ladies 


Moore's co-stars are Gloria Hendry (lef), Playboy Bunny, 
оз the ill-fated Rosie Carver and Jane Seymour (above) os a 
seer ond enchontress named Solitaire. Initiclly indentured to 
Kenonge, Bond's orchnemesis, both finally switch ollegionce. 147 


Baron Somedi (Geoffrey Holder), one of Konongo's voodoo 
votories, prepores the coup de gráce for а writ 


ng ocolyte. 


Bond in o life-or-death struggle. 
with Kanongo (Yaphet Коно). 


THE SUN NEVER SETS on Her Majesty's 
Secret Service or, at least, on that re 
doubiable agent 007. Sean Connery has 
apparenily dispatched his 1 

Ian Fleming's hero, and Roger Mo 

best remembered for his TV role as 
Saimt"—has replaced him. The 

Rond epic, Live and Let Die, is 

New Orleans and New York—with 
ludes in a romantic Jamaican bower and 
a macabre voodoo cemetery. Perennial 
Bond producers Albert К. Broccoli and 
Harry Saltzman (of United Artists) send 
the supersteuth on the wail of a Carib- 
bean connection that pits him against 
the diabolical Dr. Kananga, prime minis: 
ter of an island republic, site of a huge 


Jone Seymour (left and below), who temporarily deserted 
the set of a BBC-TV series to play Solitcire, follows o 
group of leading lodies—Ursula Andress, Diona Rigg and 
Jill St. John, omong others—who hove shored Bond's bed. 


poppy-to-powder heroin operation, Ka 
nanga divines his machinations with the 
aid of a tarot deck dealt by the bcauti- 
ful sorceress, Solitaire: needless to say. it's 
in the cards for Bond and Solitaire (Jane 
Seymour) to cross paths in the boudoir. 
Fate has also dealt 007 his first black in- 
orata, Rosie Carver (Gloria Hendry). 
Bond's fortunes t with an 
a Rolex watch 
ctic field to deflect bullets and 
a prosthetic arm designed like a lobster 
claw: and with the usual chase scenes— 
crack-ups impacting cus imo accordions 
and motorboats hurdlir ou sand bars. 
Whether on be 
or Moore, Bond is obviously still Bond 


Glorio Hendry (above and riaht) becomes 
007% first black bed partner. After a hotel 
tryst, she and Moore dally in a tropic dell— 


а fitting swan song before her untimely end 


feeling that if I hadn't called, Bobby 
would still be there.” 

The tanned and vigorous young man 
who boarded the plane at Los Angeles 
would stand out as one of the handsome 
males ig. Bobby is tall 


PLAYBOY 


of rather odd parts. 

‘The head. for instance. That amazing 
brain is lodged in 1 skull 
that doesn't actually г 
the саз. The forehead is low and m 
the jaw look large, at certain angles al- 
most Neanderthal. The look on his face is 
primitive, too, the alert but. unthinking 
look of an animal. А big wild animal that 
hunts for a living. There is a sense of da 
ger about Bobby: in some ways I am as 
careful with s 1 would be with a 
tiger. His eyes are like а tiger's. They hold 
the same yellow-green serenity and fright- 
е mptiness. And when he Laughs, his 
wide, [ulllipped mouth opens into а 
huge happy cave filled with bright white 
teeth. Most of his expressions аг 
mentary: direct expressions of fear, hun- 
vr. anger, pleasure, suspicion, 
interest all the emotions а man or even 
n animal can have without being in- 
volved with any other man or animal. I 
have rarely seen his face register the social 
emotions of sympathy, invitation, ac 
knowledgment, humor, tenderness, love 

There is also something primitive 
к, body and the way it moves. He 
wears a business suit about as naturally as 
python wears a necktie. Standing about 
10 190, and a padded 
jacket makes his shoulders look so wide 
head seems even smaller than it is. 
Like a pea sitting on a ruler,” somebody 
said. His movements are direct, vigorous, 
sometimes com id. He walks 
literally twice as 
hiker, bur he walks the way а hen runs 
апа this hen fills a doorway. He comes 
on head forward, [eet wide apart and toc: 
turned in, shoulders lurching [rom side to 
siile, elbows stuck out like wing joints and 
fingers llipping like feathers. Fastenin 
his eyes on а point about four miles dis- 
tant and slightly above everybody's head, 
he charges unswervably toward that point 


through the densest crowds, a man in mo- 
t 


a with an end in view. 
As this systematic 
сы, wild gaps and erratic 
stammers in the flow of Bobby's life. 
More than almost anyone 1 can remem- 
ber, he functions like Frankenstein's crea- 
ture, Jike a man made of парте 
connected. by wires and animated by a 
monstrous will. When the will collapses 
or the wires cross, Bobby sometimes 1- 
not execute the simplest physical acts. 
150 When he loses interest in a line of 


whwardness sug- 
there a 


THE DAY BOBBY BLEW ІТ continued from page 82) 


thought or action he has pursued for as 
little as three minutes, his legs may simply 
give out, as if he had just hiked 20 miles, 
d he will shuffle off to bed like an old 
mun. And once, when I asked him a 
question while he was eating. his control 
circuits got so befuddled [rom trying to 
s at once that he jabbed 
his fork. into his che 

Bobby has the same kind of trouble 
talking. He is the most single-minded 
a I have ever known. He seems to keep 
only one thought in his mind at once, and 

imple thought at that, He talks as he 
thinks. in simple sentences that lead him 
where he is going like steppingstones, aud 
T voice is the voice of a joke robot pro- 
mmed to sound like a strect voice from 
root: flat, monotonous, the color 
of asphalt. 

1 sometimes think it is the voice of a 
man pretending to be an object. so that 
people won't notice he is soft and alive 
d then do things to hurt him. But 
Bobby is to vital to play dead success 
fully. Energy again a 
circuits the robot. 
prowls and ela 
Чи 


nergy like a 
es inside him. Now 
binge of SE 
night, all night, it escapes into chess. 
When he sits at the board, а big danger- 
ous cat slips into his skin. His chest swells, 
his green eyes glow. his sallowness fills 
with warm blood. All the lile in his fr 
mented body flows and he looks wild and 
beautiful. When I sce Bobby in my mind, 
1 see him sprawled w ма 
chessboard, eyes half dosed, listening to 
the imaginary rustle of moving pieces as 
a tiger lies and listens to the murmur of 
the moving recds 


1 it escapes in 


avis knew t 
ly ger lost in 


had prepared the kind ol script they 
to write [or Mission: Impossible. 
10 abduct а man for his 
own good and do й so sneakily that the 
victim wouldn't know what was happe 
ing 10 him. It was а job for a genie, but 
is didn't happen to have one in his 
address book. So he asked Tony Saidy to 
take Bobby on a shopping trip 
rounded up two friends and a 
1 chauffeur to help him. The f 
knew Bobby but had not met Saidy 
chaulleur had never even heard of 
Bobby. And none of the five had ever ab 
ducted anything trickier than а cookie. 

Herb Hochstetter Dubin- 
sky, who turned up at the Yale Club at 
9:30 Wednesday morning, were the first 
members of Davis’ crew to st 
Hochstetter is a stocky, energetic 
55 with a hard business mouth and pale 
amused eyes almost concealed by Holds of 


used 
The рап м 


rough skin that hang down from his eye: 
brows like worn portieres. A man who I 
lived a little too hard but isn’t a damn bit 
sorry and would like to shoot off a few 
more cannon crackers before he buys a 
condominium in St. Petersburg. He is a 
well-known marketing consultant and an 
old friend and client of Andrew Davis’, 
who introduced him to Bobby about 12 
years ago 

Moris Dubinsky is an ex-butcher 
from the Bronx and as independent as a 
rubber chicken. When the supermarkets 
took over the meat business, hc closed his 
shop and bought a taxi, 7 
he traded it in for a 510 
e. Not long ago, he bought six lim- 
all shiny new, and had enough 
money in the bank to pay cash—about 
$81,000, plus tax. "I don't owe nobody," 
Dubinsky told me. "I pay cash or I don't 
get it. Payin’ cash is my biggest thrill in 
life. That way nobody's gonna lean on 


Morris." Dubinsky is the last m 


he is the first t0 admit) "like an ox. 
stands 3107, weighs 183 pounds and has 
muscles in his hair. He also has muscles 
lis lip. When Dubinsky doesn't like 
something, Dubinsky lets you hear 
it—and you don't need an ear trumpet. 

By one Hochstetter and. Dubin- 
sky were getting antsy. They had called 
al had called 
nble with а 
с like a sash weight that it was still 
too early. So he had urged them to sit 
shibah till the body resurrected. A liule 
alter one o'clock Saidy arrived and by two 
he had dug Bobby out. But af 
almost nothing happened. Bobby 
ily on Cadillac uphol- 
ends on the radiophonc, 
picked up some travelers checks, had 
breakfast at the Stage Delicatessen, ran 
a couple of minor errands, and then 
headed back to the Yale Club for a meet- 
ing with Davis, In theory, he was gewing 
ready to go to Iceland: in 
In everythi concerned the m 
his energy was so viscous th 
like a man struggling up out of deep sleep 
and knowing he was! ig to like what 
he saw when he opened his eyes. 

Who could blame him? In the past 18 
months, Bobby had played one long tour- 
патем and three long matches, all of 
them jackhammering assaults on his nerv- 
ons system. Now he was facing the longest 

nd most difficult: match of his carcer, a 
contest that might run to 21 games and 
last up to 75 days. But Bobby had never 
quailed at challenges before. Something 
more than the challenge seemed to be 
uoubling him now. 


tor 


that, 
lolled million 
stery, called f; 


Andrew Davis is a slim man of middle 
height with quick dark eyes be 
fessorial specs, a small head penc 
carelul hair and а big unexpected crash- 
ing Teddy Roosevelt smile. He is 43 and 

(continued on page 172) 


THE WORST 
AND 
THE GRAYEST 


opinion 


BY DAVID HALBERSTAM. 


on the gang that couldn’t govern straight 
gang 5 £ 


who knows their faces? Grayness is 
mity is prized, Herb Klein, who has been with 
ving done or 
"1 designed to function 
т, pre-Watergate times, 
Jolin and one was 
valued. They seem 
© at ease with the 
SU dte hues nity of it. Pleasure and. 
joy make them wary. Pleasure may be sinful and it may be a 
sign of frailty: it may weaken the fiber. He is against wea 
ing the fiber. There are 
speeches to prove it. 
They аге not prized 
for their individualism, 
Individualism is danger- 
ous; there is only one in- 
dividual, only one voice, 
only one ego. Were there 
yoments of individual- 
m in Hickel. Romney, 
Peterson, et al? Did they 
make the mistake of be- 
being a Cabi- 
al was real, that 
Cabinet olficer was his 
own man? Ош. And 
по matter how much 
Pat Moynihan admired 
Nixon, he could never 


him longer than most, is memorable for never 


said anything memorable. They seem т 
rather than to live. Who could, in happi 
tell Haldeman [rom Ehilichmar 
Bob. but which was which 


last loi White 
House, because Moy: 
han, no matter what h 


politics. was simply too 

regarious, too 
much a lover ol friends 
1d human 


course and soc 
€ dangerous, because 
they cam be reveal 
and Nixon aboveall does 
not like to be revealed. 
He himself is the most 
secretive and isolated of 
our leaders, the most 
k proof. Lyndon John- 
son hated leaks as much 
Nixon, maybe more, but he was constitutionally unable to 
stop them, because he was so terribly human. He was always 
Iking, arguing. rampaging. always hopelessly involved. and 
ged with other buman beings. So the FBI, when directed 
by Johnson to check a particular security leak, would inevitably 
find that the source of the leak was Johnson himself. An excess 
of human s never been a problem for Nixon: he is the 
most private, secluded of the most deliberately hidden, 
To the degree that other men know him or want to know him 
nd are willing to talk about him, they tend to disappe. 


from 


ional spotlight for some 25 years 
re still a considerable mystery. 
aking others feel they 
are part of his processes, that their opinions ате being weighed, 
when of course they are not) His career is notable for the 
absence of lasting friendships in a profession where common 
struggle and human byplay normally produce strong and. 
lasting relationships. To the degree that he һай two old 
political friends. they were Bill Rogers and. Bob Finch. No 
two men have been more publicly humiliated and emasculated 
in the Nixon years—not by the Senate, and not by the 
press, but by, of course, 
the White House. 

So the new palace 
guard is modern func 
tional, in his image, or 
ihe that he would 
want to have. They have 
succeeded in part be- 
cause they are color- 
less, they will not (with 
the notable exception of 
Kissinger) denact from 
the President, shi 
spotlight, create a 
stitucncy of their own, 
п identity of their 


Poor Lyndon John 


son again, complaining 
thor when Bill Moy. 
ers was press secretary. 


Moyers’ image improved 
while his own oum 
bled. TI 1 be no 


such problem 
White House. T 
а special new 
come to the 

fore in tl 
with gı 
ambition and 


today's 


breed 
political 
s century, men 
at and. drivi 


ordinary capacity to sul 
i it - good 
M ich ol 


c is the good of 
their own careers. 

They are men fasci 
nated by the means of 
controlling processes and techniques. They may not know (or 
care) w 
tenements in Harlem or whether in fact the very ricl 
bers of the society pay any income tax. (IE the very richest in 
the society do not pay very much tax, then they are vulnerable 
to the state, afraid of the state, curiously powerless in the state, 
which is more n paying their real dues to the 
society.) But they ving into a loreign city and 

inging the electronic gear necessary to get The Man on 
ion. to get the right camera (concluded on page 167) 


telev 


ILUSTRATION ву KUNIO HAGIO 


151 


gatsby lives! a sketchbook of the 
moneyed class at play in the hamptons 


IT'S CHANGED SO MUCH it's all the same. (Do you hear us, Jay Gatsby?) Summer in the Hamptons: It's all so 
different you'd know it in a minute. . . . Big money clinging to the center (ordering the party lemons in on 
Saturday afternoon, then laughing over sour drinks, watching the rinds go out as garbage Sunday morning). 
Small change around the edges; young, pretty (looking in). . .. And, yes, the popular journals still send artists 
with their sketch pads to catch the tattletale moments: a Senator's brother at play (things you've seen a thou- 
sand times), a parasol shadow creeping across polka dots onto a wicker pram. Quick skeiches done with a 


1 ^ b 
ee 


N 


D 
а 


ууу) 2)? 0) 


СЕРЕ А 2 e ОЛ 22 У 


Might ради of Ciklin (riddle Ре eol Ба 


Ka 


ع وتر \ 


2چ 


stiletto... . Still true: You can't hear a Rolls- 
Royce coming. You feel it. The sound of 
money here is the silence it buys. Behind 
topiary hedges, on greens as trim as 
billiard tables, for serious croquet, private 
tennis. ... The cranky sea tried to wash the 
Beach Club away in 1938 (remember?), 
but the Beach Club wasn't ready to go. It 
moy take more than acts of God to finally 
wash this terrace down. Mother and son 
are at their table again (still) talking 
about his last marriage, hers, other dis- 
asters they have survived together. And 
they are eavesdropping over “the sound 
of tinkling waiters” on the kind of clever 
conversation they invented 40 years ago. 
“Love, darling boy, isa dream... and | 


: ataque Lal 
© Am H 
I 


am beginning to think they will never 
change this luncheon menu." A sturdy 
terrace, indeed. . . . City people on the 
sandy fringe make crowds of themselves 
even when they don't have to, because 
two weeks at the beach can't cure the 
New York feeling that we are all in this 
together, Secretaries, brokers, soles- 
people, copy writers, wild hairy children 
а stone's throw, a putting green away 
from the hush of money. listening to the 
difference, wondering: Could the artist 
possibly be painting them into the pic- 
ture? . . . Some of the proud ponies are 
left and some have turned to minibikes, 
but they still call it polo. Some of the 


Bie yh pe „ный. Mgts flay 


Je llr Ert tenes 


| X 
NOV М 


N 
8 
x 


power has turned to giggles, some of the danger to scraped knees, and most of Sunday's fine sporting togs 
have turned to flesh. And then at night, in small spaces, these athletes dance off whatever is left of the day to 
а roaring music and drink whiskey that is legal and take pills that are not. (Prohibition is as much fun now as 
it was then.) Most of the fine old cars are gone now (time and the salt air), but some of the riders have hung 
on all this time. And (can you believe this, Gatsby?) the artist swears by his fancy mustache and his quick 
brush that although the cars shown here are different, and the dogs—although the foctmen are missing— 
this is the same woman: the flower of the Twenties (Daisy?) 50 years later. The floppy hat and sunglasses 
cover the scars of a recent face lift and daily shots of vitamin Biz hove kept her sense of droma and style up to 
the occasion. Today, lunch at the Beach Club with her granddaughter. The artist says the old lady had the look 
of someone passing secrets. Over lobster tails and romaine: the same secrets, rich enough for another summer. 


The Дт. = 


П qe еее 
2 AEN 

басда? ААА 
Lor fe 


S LEE REUS E 
DN 


158 


WAIN SOULE, LOSE SOME 


7] just came back from there.” 
Very quietly, the doctor spoke to him: 

If you don't go to the hospital, you're 
ie. 1 can’t tell you any plainer 


It took the help of another old man to 
finish the persuasion. With great reluc- 
lance, he got onto the stretcher and al- 
lowed himself to be strapped in with his 
crutch and covered with a blanket. W 
lights and siren, we went to the South 
Shore Hospital, arriving nine minutes 
alter getting the call. The man moaned 
and gasped, struggling when the doctor 
tried to give him an injection. 

As he was wheeled into the emi 
тоот, he complained of swe 
t - He was terrified 
started to vomit, moaning as an L V. nee- 
dle was inserted, “You're breaking my 
arm.” His clothes were removed. They 
prepared him for an E. K.G., took a blood 
five milligrams of 
morphine. He grew pale and suddenly 
calm, accepting the ministrations of the 
intern, a Cuban nurse and a Chinese doc- 
tor. His heartbeat was shown on the 
monitor. You could sce the Р. V. Cs, the 
1 ure ventricular contractions. If 
these misfires should happen to fall on top. 
of a T wave, it could cause a fibri 
Thi jor backfiring of the heart. It. 
becomes confused and disorganized 
stead of beating, it lies dorman 
ess it cm be set in motion ара 
the patient dies. 

Dr. Gasteazoro was still smoking his 
т, neat, dapper, one hand in the pock- 
et of his long white coat, He told me that 
70 percent of heart deaths occur in the 
first hour. 

AUT-30, Rescue One left the E. R. They 
went upstairs to the intensive-care unit 10 
visit a man they had picked up on their 
last shift. three days before. But he 
sleeping under heavy sedation, wearin 
an oxygen mask. He was 75 and looked 
terrible. But Frank was very proud of 
him. When they got the call, he was al- 
ready "dead" from a cardiac arrest and 
they had nearly given him up. They had 
even broken three 


But instead of returning to quarters, 
Rescue One stopped off at the Causeway 
Marina to visit with some old fishing 
buddies who sat at a table on the dock 
by the bay, drinking booze and telling 
stories. At 8:13, an amiable drunk was 
g us about his World War Two 


паи 
down.” М ved in a few minutes. A 
had stumbled on the sidewalk, 
d fallen into а hedge and couldn't get 
up. She had been there a half hour. 
People were watching from windows, 
from the patios of rooming hou 


wom 


es 


(continued from page 146) 

and residential hotels. Finally. someone 
called. The victim had heard a woman 
on the sidewalk saying 

“Morris. Leave her 
involved. 

There was no apparent problem, She 
was a little confused. She probably sul- 
fered from a vascular insulliciency, the 
general debility and senility of old age 
She wouldn't say how old she was but 


alone. Don't get 


ast the doctor. 

"Опа. You like to play. I like to 
play, too. All these handsome men. They 
could give me just what I need.” 
Шу quiet night. Mel 
vyn Dougl ing in Ghost Story 
on TV. He was a warlock who contrived 
the death of an old f 
The firemen, the doctor 
medics were all engrossed. Over the ra 
in the next room, you could M 
message t0 another unit, "M. 
oul" the rest of the words over- 
whelmed by the cerie, dramatic theme 
music. At ten o'clock we watched Banyon, 
a private eye in 1987 who attended 
dance marathon with а girlfriend. who 
was suddenly stricken with amazement. 
In the crowd she saw a friend who had 
died the year belore. 

At 10:30 we made a run to 1535 Telf. 
п had а "pain in 
ach." We arrived in two minutes. 
The man was unable to get his own doc 
tor, the telephone service not answering. 
‘The pain was in the gall-bladder area. He 
1 had. previous heart attacks and. had 
already taken two nitroglycerins. Frank 
radioed for an ambulance on a three as 
Ray took the man's blood pressure. The 
doctor was irritated, It was difficult to de- 
termine whether or not the man had ever 
had gall-bladder trouble before. "There 
s a collection of pills on the table 
When Frank asked for his next of kin, he 
got a wise-guy answer and then “None.” 
Then he tried to change it, but Frank re- 
fused to make a change. They began to 
change gentle threats and insults inter- 
rupted by Ray and Frank's admiration of 
а let handed fishing reel on the kitchen 
table. 

“You like it? Keep i 

"Are you serious? 


w 


wheeled him out. At 10:45 we were watch- 
ing the rest of Banyon and then the new: 

rly two hours. 1 
ilked with the fire lieutenant, а tough, 
scarred old-time y proud of 
his engines and ladder, which included a 
beautiful 1943 Pirsch as well as newer 
КЕ 


mugginess of the tail end of the hurricane 
Station One was directly unde 
the take-off pattern of the Miami airport, 
the jets thundering upward to pass over 
our heads and out to sea to make their 
turns and set their courses north. The 
streets were quiet. Nothing moved 
9:51. "Royal Hotel. 758 Washington 
Avenue, Woman with a broken arm 
Rescue One was hin second 
the men were ot bunks, into 
their boots and in the van. In the lobby 
of the hotel, a drunken woman was sitting 
on the floor amid the scattered debris of 
an ashtray. One arm was in an Ace band- 
age, a loose, dirty sling dangling around 
her neck. She was crying in a slurred, 
maudlin manner: 
Tm a tough GL” 
Another woman pulled 1 
а cigarette, her breath smelling of alco- 
hol. She kept insisting the drunk's shoul- 
der was “broken in two pl Helped 
10 her feet. the subject refused to sit in 
chair and submit to an examination. She 
staggered in а small, helpless circle. com- 
at her arm hurt. Persuaded to 
sit down, she got up again, insisting on 
upstairs. Ray and Frank took hy 
tiny elevator. The doctor re- 
the lobby. Ray was quiet and 
patient. Frank argued and vaunted he 
"I was in the Third Air Force and I'm 
prety rough.” 
lı. Sure. What are you? Irish 
“Fm French and German. And Im a 
nurse, too. 
She staggered around in the hall, refus 
8 to her room. Ray finally per- 
led her. As she unlocked the door, she 
turned coy. 
"Please excuse me. My room isa mes 
Ray got her to lic down as Fi 
stayed out in the hall and laughed at hei 
They closed the door and left. Down in 
the lobby, the other woman had been 
joined by a third. They smoked ra 
ly, muuerin ie won't stay." 
growled on the way out 
Next 
cops.” 
There were no more runs that night, 
but 1 couldn't sleep. I kept thinking of 
the passengers im those jets flying ove 
head and of how Ray and Frank once 
responded to a call “Car in the water. 
They had donned their scuba gear and 
gone into the water instantly, goi 
down, finding no one inside, searching 
the nearby bottom, Then they found out 
the car had already been reported. and 
checked earlier that mori 


sease 


с, don't call us. Call the 


The 
very little. The doctor's 
mo. But one of th 
censed practical nurse who worked at Mt. 
Sinai Hospital on his days oll. He was al 
ways referred to as the Doctor 

My fist run w 
"Woman limp and unrespon: 


and talked 
Benco- 
men was a li 


rescue 


Seven & Seven. 


When you know you've gotten 
Hin the most out of yourself, that’s when 
ae i im you feel your best. Right? 
К 2 And that’s when you deserve 
the one drink that's always at its best. 
| Seagram's 7 Crown and 7 Up. 
Get it nice and tall |. 
| over plenty of ice. Then 
settle into it. 
Seven & Seven. 
Tt belongs to moments 
like this. 


Seagram Distillers Co., N.Y.C. American Whiskey —A Blend. 86 Proof. 
Serer Üp and “Т Up" are reguler ed tradeinarfa HEGE the produnt ot the Seven Up Company: 


PLAYBOY 


160 


“I prefer pictures that lel me escape [rom everyday life.” 


was really a signal 35. She was drunk. 
At 4:20 we went to 950 Pennsylvania 
Avenue, “Woman down on floor, people 
^t get in.” As we parked. two old ladies 
walked by on the sidewalk. One of them 


«a 


h the wind. She's dead 
1. How they gonna get in? 
Inside the building, an old woma 


as 


policeman stood by. The maintenance 
man came up with a cheap screwdri 


He tried to pry open the outer door, but 
the screwdriver bent in the middle. With 


his pliers, he removed the pin from the 
top hinge but couldn't get the bottom 


one out. Several men took turns kicking 
at the doors. The locks finally gave. 
The woman was in the kitchen 


slumped down in а corner. She was still 
breathing. When they dragged her out 


imo the middle of the floor, she 
moved, ever so slightly. The doctor 

"Stoke" They gave her oxygen and 
called an ambulance on a three. She 


breathed more deeply. Her face became 
bright red. She began to quiver, her left 
leg and foot shaking. The driver showe 
Bencomo a can of dietetic salmon. 
aps she was a diabetic. Her blood 
130/70. Pulsc 76. She was 
g well, her life signs good. The 
er found two pill bottles. They were 
for high blood pressure. 

Someone went to find the manager to 
be a witness to the door damage. The old 
woman who had been crying then discov- 
cred she had a spare key to the room. She 
was upset she hadn't thought about it 
mbulance arrived with the same at 
ants who had made the last run, Res 
el 


not recover. 
edict when she 
And 


ght or might 
о p 
» consciousness—if ever 


Back in quarters. The whole 
a hall hour. T started reading а book in 
the dayroom. It was about the positive 
and negative impulses of the heart, about 
P waves and R waves and T waves, about 
Q R.S. суйе. arrhythmia and atrial 


br n. 
"1051 Coll 
beach-front hotels. Arrive i 
Up the stairs. A mezu stened to the 
door with elecrician's tape. You could 
smell the Jewish cooking. The man was 
dizzy. He had seen a doctor that very day 
who had given him some pills He had 
not eaten. But he had vomited. His wife 
was crying. He was fat and he was 90 years 
old. On a bureau was a recent photo 
graph of a beautiful boy and girl. ‘There 
were other pictures of children and 
grandchildren. The Doctor radioed for 


s—a sick man.” One of the 
t utes. 


° 


nce on а four. Dr. Bencomo 
asked for all his pills and medi id 
then canceled the ambulance. Rescue 
One would transport the patient. Hi: 
blood pressure was very low. 

There were plastic lowers standing in 
scs on a bureau and on the window sill. 
There were some cornball reproductions 
of paintings on the wall, a Jewish cale 
dar and a photo of à very young man 
with a handlebar mustache standing in 
a ancient uniform. Tr was the subject 
п officer in the Romanian army ten 
years or so before World War One. 

At 5:97 a woman lay on her couch with 
chest pains. Her husband had broken а 
leg a few weeks before. He had a cist and 
а cane. He was a little nervous but not 
much, saying nothing at all to his wile. 
Two women neighbors came i 
and very worried. The subject was 70. She 
was given oxygen aud an injection. 
^c moaned that she felt much better. 
There were amateur paintings on the 
walls, plastic flow TV set, gewgaws, 
pictures of young children, old photo- 
nd and wife. Again, 
the sume ambulance team showed up. 
Rescue One disconnected its oxygen and 
packed up. The Doctor said 
Momma. Nest time you 
wait so long 

Back to the station, the dayroom, the 
book. I read about wandering pacer 
rates, infarc 
inus arrest 
“Rescuc Three 
ad hotel—man in the water call. 
ing for help"), atrial flutter, Wencke- 


an ambul 


ions 


shouldn't 


bach phenomenon 


40. The phone rang. We were cleared 
for a 12. We went to the Turf Pub 
for dinner, Everyone was depressed and 
quiet. There was no conversation. The 
radio stood between a soup bowl, a bread 
basket and а butter dish, hoarsely prat- 
ting something about Engine Three and 
about a boar in distress. We returned to 
the station and watched Zulu on TV. 
7:36. "900 West Avenue. Apartment 
853. Man having a heart attack." € 
way over, the motor stalled. It took se 
eral tries ro get ir started a Highrise 
apartment. Elevator. Man ou sofa, mouth 
open, sweating, felt cold, age 74, white 
hair, listless, very dizzy, no longer had 
original pains in chest, had fallen down 
several times last week. Blood pressure 
110/70. The fi ure was Scar 
‘The subject was given oxygen. 
1 don't want to go to the hospital." 
Sam—why take a chance? | dont 
k 1 could take it again, Sam. Ple. 
1 don’t wanna go. I'm tired. I w 
to bed 


аһ 


se 
аппа 


“But that’s what's wrong with you." 

ance was called. An E K. G. 
1 effort to convince the pa- 
1 the 


An amb 
was 
tient of the emergency. Outside 
seeing boat was 
oup singing could be heard ap 
ig over the water, the toot of a 


whistle, the ring of a bell, a cheerful tour- 
guide voice over a Р. A. system, "Hello, 
dere!" Applause. Whistles. Cheers. А 
crowd of elderly people stood on the 
patio by the pool, laughing and yelling 
ick at the boat. The Miami skyline wa 
visible through the apartment window 
Rescue One fastened the straps over the 


insulliciency. 

“Oh, gee. They never do anything 
night. Гус been there—so many times.” 

The subject moaned, tired, frustrated 
hopeless. But when the ambulance men 
ved, he agreed to go. 

Back at the station, the British soldiers 
were still fring at the Zulu warriors 

8:08. False alarm. Headquarters pushed 
the wrong bution, Rescue Three was 
wanted. A bus driver had been beaten up 
and robbed. 

8:290. 7825 Washington Ам Apart- 
ment 218. Clinton Hotel. Man fell down 
and couldn't get up” A crowd. of old 
people were gathered around the TV i 
the lobby watching All in the Family 
Archic Bunker was sounding off as we 
squeezed into the elevator. It was а 
cramped, ratty apartment. There were 
two narrow beds, The man was lying оп 
his back on the bathroom floor. The 
woman was small, old. weak and nervous. 
The rescue men picked up the patient 
and put him back in bed. He was 82. He 
used a walker, but sometimes he could 
stand up by himself, He was completely 
bald, his voice very weak and hoarse. H 
wile didu't understand the question when 


аг 


the Doctor asked for the name unt 
he said 

“Vas iz de Namen?” 

8:32, The Zulus were making their 
final charge on the fort. Fire swept 


through the barracks. There were spears 
rifles, war chants, death. The dayroom 
was crowded with watch 
10:27. A Cuban woman called the po- 
ice to report a burglary. When the detec 
tive arrived, he found her passed out and 
called Fire Rescue. Dr. Beucomo talked 
to her in Spanish. He pated her f 
They took her blood pressure, A vou 


sister 1 she had history of lu 
trouble. There was lide response and 
then а moan. She woke up. cry 


ig. very short of breath and unable 
to talk, The detective began to dust vari 
ons objects lor fingerprints, using a very 
fine brush and powder, working with 
method There 
Catholic icon on the wall, a st 
na, the red /white 
her refleaing on its features through 


al, slow concentration. 


the open door 

The woman gasped and choked and 
suddenly rolled over in another 
dead faint. An ambulance was called on 
Her brother came home from 
work, his face, hands and arms streaked 


161 


PLAYBOY 


162 


with grime. He was cool. Earlier in the 
evening, he had seen three suspicious 
guys їп front of the house and followed 
them up to 20th Street. He had their 
number and gave it to the cops. He had 
been suspicious becuse their apartment 
had been robbed three weeks earlier. 
The woman recovered consciousness 
nd began crying. The ambulance ar- 
ed. Rescue One went back to the sta 
n t0 watch the late news. Three black 
extremists had hijacked a jet and de 
manded $10,000,000 ransom for the re- 
turn of their hostages. The FBI had shot 
out the plane's tires as it took off from 
Orlando. The plane was then circling 
Key Biscayne, just а few miles away from 
Miami Beach. The hijackers demanded 
to speak to President Nixon over the 
radio. He refused. 


Monday. and Frank and Dr. Gas- 
teayoro were back on duty. They got a 
all for a "woman sick.” But her doctor 
had told her relative to get 
lance and send her to Mt. Sinai. 
relative thought you first had to call 
Rescue to get an ambulance. 

Back at Station One, I talked to the 
Philosopher, a well-read, thoughtful fire 
{ridden rescue in 1966 when 
He told the story of the great 
showboat act he had once рш on when he 
found а dead man on a bus right in front 
of city hall. He was good and dead. But 
the Philosopher went through the whole 
number, mouth-to-mouth resuscitation, 
heart massage. blood pressure, pulse. А 


doctor arrived from somewhere, took 
one look. gave the Philosopher a certain 
smile and joined the act. There was a 


large crowd. Rescue was а new concept 
then and everyone was conscious of the 
public image. It was true street theater. 
The doctor gave an I. M. injection, 1. V. 


solutions amd listened with his stetho- 
scope. But there was nothing to hear 
except the moans and mutters of the side- 
walk audience. 

The Philosopher ako told several 
stories of finding bodies in locked apart- 
ments: they had been dead for days. You 
could always recognize that smell even as 
you were going up the stairs. Once they 

new man, D had just finished a 
ghetti dinner. Catching that famil- 

upto 
check out the problem, laughing hysteri- 
cally when he threw up all over the hall. 

Rescue One gor restless and went for а 
ride. We went to the beach at the jeny 
and checked out the girls and then down 
to the chamber of commerce fishing 
docks. Ray carried the ra the back 
pocket of his coveralls. 

call to treat an epileptic at 
We went int through the back 
bot no guards were around. Exer 
s confused. It seemed the prisoner 
ldr of those revolv 
y wanted an am 
was 
Ray and 


one w 
was a habitu 
ing-door cases. The: 
bulance, but everybody thought 


necessary to call Rescue first. 


Frank went to the front desk to get the 
nd lor all. But there 


matter settled once 
was a hassle 
finally we we 
shop. 

At 4:58 there was a possible stroke. The 
man was 86, his mouth was quivering, he 
was unable to talk, there was a wet cloth 
on his forehead, his right facial muscles 
were twitching. It was motor aphasia. 
The man wanted to talk but couldn't. He 
had paresis of the right side. His wife was 
quite deal. She fumbled through a pack 
of doctors’ business cards. A neighbor was 
running the show, yelling at her, giving 
instructions, two other neighbors joining 
the chorus, trying to make the wom: 


“Furthermore, all the storks I know are against 
liberalized abortion laws.” 


understand about getting his Medicare 
number. The radio was saving something 
bout Engine One and a stuck elevator. 
There were porcelain gewgaws every- 
where, cheap furniture, doilies on the 
rms and back of the sofa, plastic flowers 
nd two very large framed portraits of the 
man and the woman in dignified poses, 
rendered in oils in 

At 5:50 we were at the Causeway 
Marina. There was wine, jokes, laughter, 
fishing stories, handshakes. A call came ir 
"Lincoln Road and Pennsylvania. Man 
down.” We found h g in a flower 
bed on the mall. A police car was there, a 
crowd. of ус ns The m 
hemorrhagi тош. 
1 he had a cramp in his leg. sat down 
and started quive 


ig. He wore a hea 
aid. His mouth kept moving, but he was 
unconscious. Rescue One put him on a 
stretcher, gave him oxygen and trans- 
ported him to South Shore Hospital. 
At the E. К. he was hooked up to the 
E. K.G. monitor, which showed some 
P. V. Cs and some arrhythmia. His pres 
sure was good, His tongu 1 been 
itten. This meant possible convulsions, 
perhaps epilepsy. The subject was cath- 
trerized. An LV. was started. He was 
given several shots. Two doctors at once 
stened with stethoscopes. Nobody knew 
and they went through his wal 
let looking for 1.1). The man started to 
struggle. He had to be held down to get a 
needle into his vein. 

In the next bed, а man was calmly eat 
ing from a tray. Frank recognized him. 
They had made several runs for him 
in the past. He suffered from emphyse 

Iwo ambulance drivers came 
ried joking around with Ra 
We left at 6:10 and went back to 
the Causeway Mari 

6:25. 1000 West Avenue. It was a very 
fancy apartment house, the lobby floors 
of white marble, bas-reliefs on the walls. 
Inside the apartment, a woman was sit- 
ting on the sofa. There was a moment of 
confusion. The older woman at the door 
just looked at us. 

1 didn't think there would be so many 
of you 


и? What's the 


k. You know what I me 

And then the woman on the sofa start 
ed sere: 
No! No!" 
Hed her doctor 
mbulance, Why a 
Four men? There used to be two. I know. 
My brother-in-law lives upstairs and һе 
а regular customer, Is this the usual thing 
10 have so many? This will upset her. Oh 
doctor. What do you think I should d 

Madam. I am mot a psychiatrist. 1 

сап only suggest you do as her doctor 
ordered." 

“Oh. What can 1 do? I'm all alone 
There's nobody to tell me what to do. 

The mother paced very rapidly and 


[T 


Smoking. 


What are you going tod 
about it? 


Many people are against cigarettes. You've heard their arguments. 

And even ously were in the business of selling cigarettes, we're not 
going to advance arguments in favor of smoking. 

We simply want to discuss one irrefutable fact. 

A lot of people are still smoking cigarettes. In all likelihood, they'll 
continue to smoke cigarettes and nothing anybody has said or is likely to say 
is going to change their minds. 

Now, if you're one of these cigarette smokers, what are you going to do 
about it? You may continue to smoke your present brand. With all the enjoy- 
ment and pleasure you get from smoking it. Or, if tar and nicotine has become 
a concern to you, you may consider changing toa cigarette like Vantage 

(Of course, there is no other cigarette quite like Vantage.) 

Vantage has a unique filter that allows rich 
flavor to come through it and yet substantially 
cuts down on ‘tar’ and nicotine. 

We want to be frank. Vantage is not the 
lowest 'tar and nicotine cigarette you can buy. 
But it may well be the lowest 'tar and nicotine 


cigarette you will enjoy smoking. CAN к 
Vantage. Its the only cigarette 
that gives you so much taste with so 


little ‘tar’ and nicotine. 
We suggest you try a pack. 


VANTAGE 


MENTHOL 


FILTER 


Tis. 
OB ee МА 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 


That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous toYour Health. Filter. Tl mg. "tar", 0.8 mg. nicotine, Menthol: 11 mg. “tar”, 1.0 mg. nicotine- 
av.per cigarette, FIC Report Feb. 73. 


163 


PLAYBOY 


164 


very nervously. her fingers at her mouth 
witching, folding and unfolding. Her 
daughter was 38. her face 
frustration and anxiety. She watched her 
mother. Curious but cringing, she looked 
at the four of us, three with mustaches 
and tans, hair and mu 
over, the fourth oue wearing a lo 
coat 

“No! No! Nooooooo!” 

“Oh. Pm all 


КОР" 
The mother clutched at hei 
shoulder, yelling into her face 
"What's wrong with you? How do you 
feel" 
The daughter ran into the other room, 
Dr. Casteazoro stayed, smoking his ci, 
radioed for an ambulance. Fr 


laughier's 


He knew he was good at this. He had e 
perience. He had the feel for it, We w 
ed. Frank's voice was murmuring quietly 
the other room, rapidly, comfort 
The woman's mother kept 


trying to interlere. Ray kept vying to 
convince her to stay ou 

“What's he doing 10 her? That's all 1 
want to know. Is he giving her medicine 
or what? An injection? She was all right 
until so many of you came in. She's afraid 
ol crowds, There used to be only two. 
Wasn't there only two? Oh. What shall I 
do? I'm all alone." 

The ambulance men arrived with a 
stretcher. Frank brought the woman out. 
urmuring to her softly, his arm loosely 
nd gently around her shoulders. She was 
sobbing and shaking, frightened of the 


5 
six men who now surrounded her, one 


of them holding a black, secret radio, 
nother writing things down on a big 
clipboard. 

As Rescue One walked out of the 
lobby, an old woman approached, smil- 
ing with the assurance that ir was ob- 
viously not her number that was up. 

“What? You're leaving with no p 
tient? That's good, hul 

Just as we pulled 
сай. 1498 Jellerso 


y. we got another 
cheaper but brand- 


"You dow ! have to raise your arm, too! I already can 
tell that you re friendly!” 


new building. The man was 51. He was 
(bald, quite fat, with no muscles of 
ny kind. He suffered from chronic em- 
physema, but this was his worst attack. 
He was dammy and cold and | 
used his own oxygen twice that d 
then his foot turned blue and he got a 
pain around his heart. The television was 


оп as he and his wife gave the doctor his 
medical history. The room wa 


immacu- 
late, thoroughly air conditioned, the fur- 
re cheap/new and all neutral tans 
nd whites. The wife noticed the TV and 
turned it off, 

The elevator was toa small for a 
stretcher. The patient sat on а cha 
his arms crossed over his chest, tzembling 
and weak and very frightened. Frank 
grabbed the legs and Ray held the back, 
Outside the apart 
n of about 90 passed in 


wi 


ment, a wom 
the hall. 


t's going on in ther 
zoro replied: 
s none of your bu 


It was difficult getting everyone inside 
the elevator. And then the p 
face turned. blue. The oxygen carry 
case had to be opened, the mask. pulled 
out and applied, the valve turned on. The 


ng an old woman very upset 
пе inside. Getting out was even 
more complicated, the door ope 
closing and banging against shoulders 
nd legs. The stretcher was taken out of 
the van, the patient shifted, the chair rc- 
turned. As the van pulled away with its 
light flashing and the siren yelping, a ter- 
fied cat ran in front of it and was almost 
killed. 

At the emergency room, the man from 
the flower bed was stabilized and com- 
fortable. He could talk, complaining of 
being cold even though he was under a 
thick blanket. The emphysema p. 
was given shots and oxygen and I. V. 
needle was stuck 


А 
to his groin to draw 
blood from the femoral vein to test lor 
gas content 
Rescue One left 

we made another ru 
the Morton Towers. There were tick 
ling garden pools, a huge lobby 

crowd of people gawking and cluck- 
ing. The apartment was quite large. Six 
elderly, well-dressed people һай been 
spending the evening watching TV 
dinner when suddenly one of them started 
10 stare blankly. He was fully conscious 
but didn't talk or respond or move. He 
was 83, Blood pressure 190/105, The doc 
tor picked up the man's left arm and let 
it go. It dell slowly. The right arm fell 
hard. Occasionally, the man stopped 
breathing. In а moment, he resumed. It 
was the CheyneStokes. syndrome. The 
doctor muttered: 7 Right paresis. 


t 7:05. In 20 minutes 
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‘Three more elderly people came in, 
tious, quict, in awe. The man's wile 
L His sister was his nex. of kin. 
The ambulance crew arrived, the same 
ones who had just returned from 
Memorial Hospital, where they had taken 
the psychotic woman, Thea 
jokes and wisecracks. Leisurely. 
moved the stroke victim t 
pausing to talk with the rescue men, 
laughing about that kookie mother who 
had given them a bad time all the wa 
Miami. Besides. That girl didn't ne 
psychiatrist, All she needed was а hot beet 
injection. 

At 8:57 we were cating dinner, а very 
special dinner, a paella made of chicken 
and rice that Rescue Опе had bought 
t Publix, but also of 
1 lobsters that Ray and 
ught themselves while on a 
diving vip. We were cating it up. ginge 
Jy. waiting for it to cool, shooting the bull 
with a fire captain and a lieutenant and 
the Philosopher about the Russian bot- 
dled-gas deal and about Wankel rotary 
engines and about some of the famous 
rescue runs of the past. And then came 
the buzzer, the bell and the P. А. systen 
“1423 Collins. Woman fell out of bed. 
ated. Husband and manager pur back 
bed. Bleeding.” We ran though the 
kitchen and down the hall, following 
cach other down the brass sliding pole. 

We arrived. The lobby was full of old 
people, all watching the same TV pro- 
gram. Lhe elevator was tiny. The woman 
upstairs was in bed, moaning with small 
nal sounds of distress. Her face was a 
bright blue and she was given forced oxy- 
gen immediately. Her husband was а 
small man, very nervous, sweating, frigh 
ened. He kept asking if he should close 
the window until Dr. Gasteazoro said 
yes, sure. Go ahead and close the window. 
They would have to carry her down on а 
chair. Thrashing and yet limp, they laid. 
her on the floor and then got a hard di 
under her, keeping the oxygen on her 
face. But the elevator was so small every- 
one wouldw't fit in. The husband, the 


© 


they 
the stretcher, 


ing: 
Momma,” as she was carried through the 
lobby, the old, wrinkled faces with the 
ns turning away 
ith stunned. 


ery fast. She was 
strapped to the stretcher, lifted in and 
locked in place. Her husband got in the 
hack with her. Ordinarily, rela ide 
in front so they can't see what is happen- 
ing and won't interfere. The red/white 
flashed. The siren yelped and wailed. 
The husband was very agitated, almost 
sobbing, trying to touch her arm, to 
stroke her face: “Rose. Rose. I'm here.” 
He repeated the story of his wife's fall 
1 nosebleed and the scratch on her leg. 
She was 68. Or 65. He wasn't sure. They 


ives 


“Well, if it won't do fer a plowshare, what are the 
chances of shaping it back into a sword?” 


had just come down from New York 

South Shore Hospital. Push through 
the double doors and roll down the corri- 
dor and into the E. R. The husband was 
told to stay outside. The woman moaned 
for her mother. Again she turned cyanot- 
ic blue. She was put in bed, her night- 
gown cut away with scissors, She was 
given oxygen. She had no pulse. The P. А. 
system called for the respiratory thera- 
pist. Bur he wasn’t available. Neither 
were the emergency-room doctors There 
at the same 


were two cardiac arrests 
time occurring somewhere upstairs. Dr. 
nd during the 


stroke, our previous run, w 
around, conscious but not movi 
rologist poking his h 


reaction at all. But his eyes were busily 
watching the activity around the bed 
next to him. 

he woman's heart stopped and then 
started. There was а frantic scurry of 


movement, the doctor, the nurse and an 
intern speaking rapidly, giving injec 
tions, heart massage, adjusting machine: 


The doctor tried to get an endouadh 
tube down her throat, but the woman was 
fighting him and the some sort of 
obstruction. He couldn't get it in. There 
was a desperate struggle. Dr. Gasteazoro 
bent down and blew on the end of the 
tube by mouth, There was a loud gurgle 
in her stomach. No good. He pulled 
the tube out and tried it again, stopping 
to put the oxygen mask over her face, al- 
though this wasn’t really getting any air 
to her lungs. The E. К. С. monitor was 

g one premature ventricular con- 
tion after another. Her heart was 


show 
[ 


misfiring badly. Another tube, another 
uy, pry up the jaw, turn her head back, 
shove it into her mouth and down her 
throat. But again the air went into 
her stomach. 

I stood at the end of the bed. Her toes 
were very deformed. She had horrible 
bunions and wore pink polish on her toe- 
nails. Staring down at her nude body, her 
t stomach was very distended now by 
air, 1 wondered just how many dreary, 
hard and plodding miles those feet had 
traveled. The nurse, the paramedics and 
I exchanged looks, She was going. The 
doctor got the tube in and hooked up the 
oxygen breathing machine. But he wasn't 
sure if it was going into the stomach or 
the lungs. He put his stethoscope on her 
belly and listened. He disconnected the 
breathing machine and pulled the tube 
ош. The woman vomited. 
intern. gave it a try with another 
tube, The ambulance drivers came in, 
idding around with giggles and jokes 


d of сше. What's he doing 
scribbling foi?" The monitor was going 
crazy. the electronic ball bouncing every 
which way. But the rate itself was slow- 
ing. They were still struggling with the 
endotracheal tube. And then. Finally. In- 
to the lung. Quickly, they connected the 
breathing machine. The doctor gave her 
ssige—onecwothrec, The rate 
on the monitor began to increase. But 
it slowed. There were more Р. V. Cs. 
Frank took over the heart massage. One- 
two-three. There was а gasp from the 
oxygen machine. Onetwo4hree, Gasp. 
Everyone looked at the monitor and 
watched the patterns. Only then did the 
nurse pull the curta 
partially shield the view of the stroke vic 


PLAYBOY 


166 


“There! You've been read to from the Holy Book, so you're 
nol pagans anymore. You're heathens now.” 


eyes and with his good left hand, nerv- 
ously fidgeting with the top of the sheet. 
woman's face was blue and 
purple. Her eyes were half open. Tubes 


were in her mouth and in her nose, her 
was some 
itor. Some 


expression grotesque. There 
heart movement on the moi 
one said. "Hell She might make it. 
Everyone smiled. It was a joke. Fra 
did it араа, Oneawothree, Gasp. 
P, V. C. Another P. V.C. Pause and 
other P. V. C. Dr. Gasteazoro checked he 
pupils. Gasp. He pushed down on her 


stomach. which caused a tremendous 
burp. There were giggles, snickers and 
smiles around the room, A few 


.R. tec 
was а total of 1l people 
d the bed. Bur she 1 
The nurse felt around ihe lemoral vein 
nd said she thought she [elt something. 
One of the ambulance boys said: 
Nhat you feel in there is а worm eat- 
her Brom the inside." 
"There's nothing. No cerebral. I guess 
"Il have to let her до.” 
The doctor pulled the tube aw 
the oxygen. He liste 
à мећољоре. 
"No pulse. 
sound.” 
He put the oxygen back. Someone 
mentioned the husband outside. "They 
said he was nervous and about to cok 


аон 


ау from 
ied to her heart with 


But there's still a heart 


lapse. There were jokes about putting 
him in the next bed. They gave the 
woman a shot of sac arbouate. 


Frank pumped on her chest—one-two- 
three. And then the doctor called ou 


“Ventricular fibrillation. Get out the 
zapper." 

Everyone stood back. The cream, the 
ldles—zap! They gave her one shot. 
And then they quit. Everything was 
стей ой. She had gone over six minutes 

ith no air. Three minutes is the m 
mum in order not to have brain damage. 
Even if she were saved now, she would 
be a vegetable, The air was stopped. The 
doctor listened with his stethoscope. Ev- 
eryone watched the monitor, The rate de- 
creased. The P. V. Cs were very slow. 

‘There was something very shiny on the 
woman's left knee, something sparkling 
against the blue of her skin. It looked like 
a diamond. An ambulance guy reached 
down and picked at it. It was а sequin. 
Somehow it had come oll a dress or a slip- 
per or a purse. She must have knelt on it 
nd it had become embedded in her skin, 
perhaps during her first fall in the hotel 
room. 

“Listen. Did she breathe just then? 
This is ridiculous.” 
snickers. Snorts. Quickly, the doctor 
hooked the air back on. Frank gave her 
iore heart massage. One-two-three. Ev- 
cryone gazed iu silence at the electronic 
signal. And then again, they gave up. 
There were jokes about orange juice 
па cheesecake. One ambulance guy 
goosed the other. 

“Say, honey. Pullecze." 

In semi-mock desperation, the Cuban 
murse told me 

“You don't know what it means to be 
with these men here, twenty-four hours a 


People left the E.R. Others s 
watching the monitor. The pattern 
nged. slower and slower. The stroke 


going on. No onc not he elec- 
ignal wobbled, wavered, jerked, 
forming a shapeless. spasmodic pattern. 
The woman was already dead, but the 
exact moment of legal death was very ar- 
bitrary. Her brain had gone a long time 
before. But her heart could possibly keep 
on beating for another hour, quiverin, 
aningless moi № 
10:08 Rescue One left the E. К. as I 
turned for one last look at the monitor. 
"The woman's husband was still outside 
the corridor, pale, forlorn, pacing ne 
ously back and forth, alone, waiting, still 
hoping—no one said anything to hi 
We put the stretcher back in ihe van and 
returned to quarters. On the way back. 
the doctor was quict and thoughtful. The 
woman would have lived if he could have 
gotten that tube down her throat. Per- 
haps it was a congenital deformity. Per- 
haps a swollen larynx, 

Both of ше cardiac arrests ups 
also had stenosis problems. Both patients 
had also died. 

The paella was ruined. Tt was stale 
overcooked and sticky. We picked at it, 
then threw it away, washing the dishes. 

10:50. Another run. 105 E: panola Way. 
“A sick man." It was a ratty hotel, an alco- 
holics’ dive, everything brown, faded. 
stained. The manager led us upstairs to 
room 205, saving the maid could not get 
in that morning. We found the m 
naked, lying on his back, sprawled in 
casy position. He had been dead at least 
five hours. perhaps 12. ‘The doctor 
pointed to the discoloration on the un. 
derside of his limbs and body. He also 
pointed to the swelling in the man’s groi 
about the size of a baseball. 

Not only is lie dead. He also has а 
hernia 
‘There was an empty fifth on the Пор 
lying on its side. There was an empty pint 
of Old Taylor. There was another filth, 


not quite empty. There was vomit in the 
bottom of the wastebasket. ‘The man 
wasn't very old. He was le wore 


the sidewalk and waited until a police- 
man came. An old man came hobbling up 
to us and started to gossip. He said the 
dead man had worked at Wolfe's on 
Lincoln Road. The cop arrived at 11:05. 

Rescue One drove 10 а Cuban rest 
rant, where Dr. Gasteazoro bought himself 
a cigar, He smoked it with little 
tion, preoccupied and subdued. ponder- 
ng, unsettled. As we passed Dipper 
Dan's, Ray stopped the van. The door 
was locked, but the guy inside opened it 
for us. We all ordered icecream cones. I 
had а double chocolate. 

Back at the station, we watched foot- 
ball on TV. A jet plane flew overhead. 


islac- 


‘THE WORST AND THE GRAYEST 


gles, Гау 


g down the television dollies 


just so. They seem n inked to the 
men like them in other countries than to 
their own society. One thinks of them and 


senses the new breed coming to power in 
eastern Europe, the apparatchik as man- 
ч: function and wer beliel. 
what can we ger the state to do for ux: 
they are all interchangeable parts. with 
those in other governments 

They know their man and their job, 
and the uses of modern Execut 


career 


ve power 


They are modest, of course, but their role 
is not. They know which branch of the 
Gov ont has an unlimited budget 


and jet airplanes lor t They kuow 
that il a Senat 

tice goes 10 Pekin 
ers and relevis 
follow, but that when the Executive 
branch travels the trips сап be vast tele 
vision spectacular, with the most pow 
ful executives: the television industry 
sciambling, а 

(Nothing was 


or Supreme Court Jus 
g or Moscow, hundreds 


ms do not 


nt 


ol repor 


go along as so 
followed so carefully in 
Peking as the daily playback of what w 
hei and said on U.S. television 
about the trip.) So they have learned that 
they тип for olhe against crime in 
the streets and decay in the cities and 
runaway inflation. and then once clected 
disappear from view, only to he televised 
at length in foreign lands. And they av 


upon returning home. sue decrees 
saying that aime in the streets has be 
defeated. the ciues saved. mtauon 
curbed, They will not, alter all, make th 
mistake of having him televised visiting 


а ghetto and saying there that crim 
the sweets has been curbed or visiting 
meat marker and talking there about how 
they ended inflation. They аге modern 
men, truly Orwellian: reality is not life, 
reality is saying something on selevision 
Yet they are moralists. P'icries abound. 
They are Americ 
from the evils that lurk. to set 
tional 1 tone: We have their own 
speeches to prove it, Now. ау we get to 
Know them, we have a bener 
what their morality is: that ii 


here 10 save n society 


new na 
mo 


sense ol 


bener to 


be rich and strong than poor and weak 
strength strengthens. weakness weakens 


itis the obligation of the poor to become 
nd. of the 


rich k ıu become stron; 
The President himsell is а moralist on 
this; above all. he cares about the fiber of 
the nation. Having ended the war (with 
terms deemed to be peace with honor 

honor simply because he says it is honor) 
hc now wants to work on Am 
ter. A favorite theme, with—surprise 
—his very carcer н Algerlike 
example: In his mind, myth has become 
fact. Hardship and suffer gil- 
ened him, thus it Gm strengthen others 
His interviews ave filled with this theme: 
stories of the Nixons when he was а boy, 
а son sick with tuberculosis, the family 


пса char 


own 


мге 


(continued from page 151) 


роо ble to pay the medical bills. but 
deciding that to ask for help was morally 
wrong. Thus. а son was lost. God's will. 
The right de So the Preside 
rows of hardship and sulleriug and how 
it makes à man ol y are offends. 
But nor rich man’s wellare, the wellare to 
Penn Central or. Lockheed there is по 
outage there. just outrage against the 
Овес of Economic Opportunity lor offer 
ing the most pathetic of our society decent 
legal help. Nor docs the President's owr 
oral vision account for his slush fund as 
а young Congressman, nor lor the enor- 
mous fees paid for him as an em 
bryonic lawyer in New York. after. his 
Vice Presidential years, Again the lesson 
of this Administration: Ht is all right for 
the rich to be caught in the act of being 
rich, bur it is immoral lor the poor to be 
сани in the aet ol being poor. So the 
pieties continue, the exhortations to ré 
turn to good old-fashioned morality. the 
harsh talk about bringing back capital 
punishment. aud all the while the V 
c evidence mounts, linked couche 
to the White House, Should we be sur- 
prised. then, that when Watergate finally 


broke, and the stain ri 
Henry Kissii 


ached everywhere. 
ger in a New York spe 
movingly asked lor compassion for the 
men involved? What better 
of this Administra 
merey extend only to themselves 

And what of it? What of the fact that in 
terms of the democratic society and politi 
cal liberty, Watergate is the most chilling 
episode in recent memory, the most ap- 
palling of moral and ethical acis? Water 
ite is. finally. complicured. dillicult and 
irice. and perhaps only а small per 
centage of the country knows how truly 
frightening it is: so by the codes of the 
Administiation, if the public does not 


understand the true immorality of Water- 
gate. then it is nor immoral. Moral 
is what you сап get away with, Only 


the end. when the leser men cra 
ad rhe trail ded to the very he 
the White House. did Nixon act 
defense ot liberty but in defense of Nixon. 
Which brings me back finally t0 a lovely 
gvalhto 1 saw recently in New York: 


WHO WOULD HAVE THOUGHT 
THAT RICHARD NIXON 
WOULD TURN OUT TO BE RICHARD NINON? 


“My wife thinks Im at an orgy- 


167 


MARVIN MILLER /еагу hitter 


armoton Marvin Miller grew up in Brooklyn almost in the 
shadow of Ebbets Field, home of the old Dodgers, the execu- 
Live director of the Baseball Players Associatie (aman 
ic for the old order. Like other areas deserted by their 
es, Brooklyn lost the Dodgers. After all, says Miller, 
baseball to make a profit." But indilference 
Miller sees it, is only one symptom of the 
ts baseball. “The players of today are young, 
bright, modern, with it,” says the 55-year-old former negotiator 
for the steelworkers' union. “They're different from the playei 

of 20 or 30 ye Now look at some of these managemen 
characters. They're not only the same type but often 
same people who were there 3 j 

opinion, crusty Houston man: 


t betwee 
enough time to di 
doesn't understand young people. That's 
been the reaction of players everywhere he's ропе, Irs the 
reason he can't put his teams over the top.” The contract 
provides impartial arbitration of salary disputes, a first step 
in dismantling the “reserve clause," a shorthand phrase for 
ub. "Up 


d the owners by 


life averages about five уе 
in the minors. But Miller is 
owner contribution to the association's player pen 

mum s as Ti from 56000 to 515.000 and 
000. Tt seems that Brooklyn 


apprenticeship 
; his tenure, 


вов JENKINS 


ORIANA FALLACI looking for answers 


“Qi DR. KISSINGER, if I put a pistol to your head and enjoined 
you to choose between a dinner with [South Vietnamese presi- 
dent Nguyen Van) Thieu and a dinner with [North Vielname 
ne, ;gotiator] Le Duc Tho... which would you choose? A.: 
That's a question I can't answer. Q.: What if I were lo answer tt 
saying that Hike to think you would prefer to dine with Le Duc 
Tho? A- 1 .Tcan't. . . I don't want to answer th; 
tion.” The above is an excerpt from 
Oriana Fall tall writer lor е 
and many people's ch 
wer. Vexing international figures such 
singer is nothing new for Fallaci: the 135 оа Flor 
t for most of her journali: 
ignment as à reporter in 1916, EE she 
1 daily to ы hersell while att 


Шасі has evolved 
I have no secret 


cer to her current mag: 
an interview style that’s as sharp 
formi owing my n I am, howevi 
ches powerful people off 
d the Kissinger interview with an ех 
the South Viemamese ch 
to а list of subjects that includes Bangla Desh prime mi 
Mujibur Rahman, North Vietnamese defense minister Vo 
» Giap and writer Norman Mailer. Although she de- 
her alism as . but not partisan 
don't believe 
re secondary in my 
for Noth- 


but my feelings 
rtheless, form the bas 


tle. 
ent. But J will continue to writ 


dy war correspond. 
vows. “It is my duty. 


KRIS KRISTOFFERSON new gig 


“АСИМ” AND SINGIN' are about the same,” says Kris Kristofferson 
—that low, echoing hoarseness, like he's just on the recovery 
side of a cold. manently in his voice. don't feel real com- 
fortable doin’ either one. They're both performin’.” But he 


wants to make a success of his new acting career, and the 
things а red with the long struggle 
befoi ryrock nd com- 


Billy the Kid, np ayi nd а comedy, Blume in Love, 
ing one of the three key roles), “a lot more than I did Cisco 
ты! onc. 1 just played myself in that one, wore my own 
till, the only work that feels natural to him is writing 
do so badly that he quit the lile of a 

nd family man and went to 
ter one quick success, with 
nd the dos- 


West Point liter 
Nashville to be discovered. 
Vietnam Blues, 3 
est he got to 
Columbi 


But 


pout growing up in T id out i 
says Kristollerson), people began hearing Me and Bobby Me 
Gee, Sunday Mornin’ Comin’ Down, For the Good Times, and 
the composer was on his way. He's still busy writing and record- 
ing, thinks his newest album with girlfriend Rita Coolidge “is 
better than anythi " and is 
learning all he c 
side of the camer: h direct Pat Gar- 
reu and Billy the Kid and was intrigued by the way “he worked 
off conflict.” It figures that since he'd rather write songs 
than sing them, he'd prefer to direct movies tham star in them 
will possess the same deep da 
ic. Because whatever he crea 
"to try and get it as honest as I c 


other 


Kristolferion, his go: 


сїлмгадмсо коросо 


м 


PLAYBO 


170 


BEAT THE STOCK MARKET 


(continued from page 118) 


anywhere from six inches to two feer 
above their longterm average depths. 
Both Lake Erie and Lake Michigan were 
at record highs. This would suggest a 
grand bull market starting sometime be 
tween 1974 and 1976. To Captain Mac- 
Donald, that spoil the high 197 


72 
levels are a reflection of the ravages of 
Hurricane Ар 


THE BAD-GUESS THEOREM 


Investors Intelligence, an advisory se 
ice in Larchmont, New York, has а pecu 
liarly unkind view of market forecasts. It 
holds that no matter what forecasting 
techniques people use, most of them are 
wrong most of the time. It believes an 
cellent way to elucidate the future i 
poll leading advisors and reverse th 
consensus: Whatever they think will 
happen, won't 

This uncharitable poll has been con- 
ducted regularly since 1963 and its record 
a forecasting tool is embarrassingly 
good, though not perfect. Let's look at a 
few samples. In the ей апа column are 
the proportions of bulls and bears on var- 
ious dates. The right) 
what the Dow actually did in the 12 
months following each poll. 


d column shows 


CONSENSUS 
May 1965: Bullish 6 to 1 
Sept. 1967: Bullish 2 to I 
Dec. 1968: Bullish 2 to 1 
May 1970: Bearish 2 to I 
Nov. 1971: Bulls and 
bears even. 


bow 
Down 70 
Down 40 
Down 180 
Up 270 
Up 150 


‘The proportion of bears to bulls in u 


poll increased steadily through most of 
1972, from one against three in. January 
gainst five as the year progressed 


wdicating to followers of t 
index that the smart money ought to be 
increasingly bullish. 


And so, fellow students, we can now 
peer into the future. The Bad-Guess The 
orem, the Heel Hypothesis, the Sunspot 
Theory and the Drinking-Couple Cou 
say the market will go up. The Hemline 
Indicator, the Great Lake Watch and the 
Yellowness Rule seem to agree, but they 
make no promise that the rise will b 
in 1975. The Aspirin Formula says it defi- 
nitely won't. Investors Intelligence would 
assume that most of these forecasts, per- 
haps including its own, are 
ever, since Investors Intelligence is itself 
а forecaster and therefore may also be 
wrong, we сап conclude—well, we can 
conclude that the stock marker, just as 
id, is eazy- 


ong. How 


Jesse Livermore s 


Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I ask you, is this 


the face of an embezzler?” 


GREAT GORGE! 


(continued from page 126) 
With expansion of the layout, Schwab 
is looking forward to booking major golf 
events. One is already scheduled for this 
August: the Garden State Pro-Am Celeb- 
rity Arts Center. Fund Tourn, i 
which the state's top profession 
pair off with amateurs for the bı 
free cultural programs given throughout 
the year. Dullers or more scasoncd golfers 
interested in improving their technique 
iy sign up for private or group lessons 
with Schwab and his staff. The ultimate 
nement: а dosed-circuit video tape of 
y leson (at a ditional charge) 
Solf is but one of several sports in 
which mtori is available ar G 
so inclined, you 


skating, skiing, karate and tennis, the 
med from resident pro Boh Kurl; 
der, who has been seeded among the top 
30 players in the Professional E 
nis Association. Опе Pennsylvai 
holder, in fact. flies in ex 
his private plane to brush up on his 
strokes with the p der takes а 
back scat to no one in his enthusiasm for 
the sport—and for the setup on which to 
sat Gorge. 

Ve have four fine outdoor courts and 
the best indoor facility of any hotel in the 
ed States,” he says. “Tennis is becom- 
nd more popular all the time 
^s ап easy game to get into—docsu't re- 
e a lot of investment, country-club 
ibership or anything like that—and 
now that so many tournaments arc being 
televised, the pl becoming celeb- 
ities.” Kurlander izes televi 


Ku zes sed 
competition in the near future at Great 
Gorge: “We could put up bleachers right 
here, around the indoor courts, and ac 
te 
jor toumam. 
adoor cou anis, ol 
course, a year-round sport for guests at 
the resort. During the colder months, 
however, winter pastimes take over 
—headed by skiing at Great Gorge North 
1 South, on Hamburg Mountain, just 
across Vernon Valley from the Club- 
Hotel. Jack Kurlander (brother of Bob) 
nd his associates pioneered the develop- 
ment of this arca, starting in 1963, and 
have plowed the resultant profits. back 
o expanded ski wails, lifts, topflight 
instruction (the Gr ge Ski School 
staff of 25 is headed by Austr t 
Luis Schalllinger) and one of the world’s 
largest snow-mziking systems, powered by 
a Curtiss Wright J-69 jet engine. 

Other winter ies at the Playboy 
resort include cross-country skiing, snow- 
mobiling, tobogpaning, sleigh riding and 
ice skating—on the nation’s first o 
door swimming pool to be success 


ctiv 


10 an ice rink. Jc utilizes 
lled Icemat, which floats re- 
t tubes across the surface of the 
freezing it to a depth of 14 inches, 
Instructor Jack McDonough, a profes- 
sional skater for 25 years (both in hockey 
nd with the Holiday on Ice show). 
came to Playboy intrigued by the chal- 
lenge of freezing the first outdoor pool 
and stayed to teach and to supervise the 
rink. (One as yet unachieved ambition: 
to coach a Bunny hockey team.) 


converted 
devi 


boys Great Согу 
is no ion. The Club-Hotel houses 
19 meeting arcas flexible enough to 
accommodate. groups of 25 to 2500 per- 
sons; a 9147 x 2% freight elevator trans- 
ports xhibits. 
nd builtin sound systems arc 
al areas, and the Con- 
a capacity of 
т. And full- 


180 booths and 2 
time catering and activities personnel are 
on duty to arrange special events: ban- 
quets, picnies, cocktail partics, hay rides, 
ndue feasts, poolside luaus and—lor 

a 


visiting wives of conventioneers 
Bunny Beauty Workshop stalled by a 
cottontail cosmetologist; jazz, modern- 
dance and rock lessons; side trips to such 
by attractions as Warner Bros; Jun- 
gle Habitat; and, most popular of all, а 
lecture by the Bunny Mother on the life 
of her charges. 

The place to have a party is the $200- 
anight Hugh M. Hefner Suite, available 
only by special arrangement with the 
Hotel management, It boasts two bed- 
room, three baths, a black- 
ath, а fireplace, а fully 

ind a panoramic view of the 
countryside from the Club-Hotel's top- 
most Hoor. 

The countryside, Playboy executives 
have realized from the beginning. is the 


rooms, a livin 


Great Gorge. So they're doing everyth 
tkey cam to preserve й, The 
boost to the surrounding are 
uemendous; with the building of th 
Club- Hotel and other developments, such 
ау the ski 
gene from S200 an 
S5000. Playboy's payroll of 800 is of 
considerable significance im a township 
where the population used. to hover 
ound 200, With all of this the Club- 
Hotel is working to assure a positive 
ecological as well as eco 


slopes, property values. have 
cre to a reported 


Playboy 
selleontained community, with its own 
e water- and air боп sys- 

amd sewage-treatment plam fo 


aim used water for golfcourse ir 
gation, Resorts like Playboy's, Jules W. 
Sr.—direcior of Sussex County's 
at of. Planning, Conservati 

Economic Development—told a 


and 


cw York Times correspondent, are 
helping to keep the homeowners ta 
burden down. They're industry w 
out smokestacks.” 


this, the New Jersey 
Мапи! Association presented the 
Club-Horel with one of its nine New 
Good Neighbor Awards in 1972, in honor 
of the beauty of the buildings and 
grounds, the complex’ economic contri- 
bution to the ad its ourstandi 
community relations. 

Monty Beers and 1 
from nearby Warwicl 
Hotel's arrival on а personal level: 
“Playboy's coming to Great Gorge is the 
best thing that ever happened to us. We 
don't have to run into М attan now 
for big-time nights.” 

Summing up the establishment from a 
visitor's viewpoint, it's not surprising that 
travel writer Horace Sutton, alter а stay 
at Great Gorge in 1972, included it in his 
list of best places of the ycar—describing 
it as being located “in the New Jersey 


ec the. Club- 


Alps, 52 miles from 
from Philadelphia, 213 Irom Boston, and 
an ace away from sybarite's heaven.” Nor 
that John Jerome, writing in Shiing's 
February 1973 id: "The Playboy 
Club-Hotel at Great Gorge is a full- 
service hotel in every sense of the term. 
+s. H you сап think of a luxury service 
t one that is legal) that they aren't 
ng at the Great Gorge Playboy. 
you've got а career ahead of you in 
hotel management." 


The Playboy Club-Hotel at Great 
Gorge, which is open only to Playboy 
Club keyholders, their families and their 
guests, is now accepting reservations for 
summer, fall and winter. For information 
or reservations, wrile 10 the Playboy 
Club-Holel at Great Gorge, Р.О. Box 
637, McAfee, New Jersey 07428. Organi- 
zations may inquire about convention 
and group facilities from Director of 
Sales John Faherty at the same address. 


ew York, 126 miles 


“You have a strong interest in sports.” 


171 


PLAYBOY 


172 


THE DAY BOBBY BLEW IT (continued тот page 150) 


but he also 


has the arinkles to prove it 
has a squirrely schoolboy brightness and 
balloon-popping sense of fun, Davis 
likes to chink of himself, 1 suspect, as 
something between an English master at 
Choate, а hard-haggling jobber in the 
G rment District and a dwindled Dis- 
ds voraciously in almost all 
directions, but the intellectual side sub- 
ordinates without overmuch regret to the 
zestful practical man. 

At the law Davis is shrewd. precise and 
so ethici) that friends call him Saint An- 
drew. He doesn't altogether. enjoy the 
tricks of his wade, and thi are things he 
will not do in order to м He shares 
with his father a solid unspecacular prac- 
tice that provides a comfortable living 
but will never make him rich. Не cer- 
tainly won't get rich off Bobby. People 
dose to Bobby tell me that in 12 у 
as his lawyer he has never charged him a 
dime. Why not? "Traditional Jewish 
of intellect. friend of Davis 
“Andy sees Bobby as a sort of holy idiot, 

frail vessel into. which the pure logos 
has been poured. He will never ah 
don him.” 

‘or weeks now, grating his teeth, Davis 
had been wishing he could. Bobby took 
time and energy that other clients necded. 
But he had hung in there because tl 
was nobody to take his place and be 
he felt in his bones that Bobby was ridi 
recklessly for а fall that might be f 
Davis saw black if Bobby backed out of 
the match. The media, already annoyed 
and mocking, would gut him: the public, 
denied a spectacle it was lusting after, 
would remember him with disgust dimin- 
ishing slowly to contempt: the chess world 
would write him off as a second Paul 
Morphy, a gei lize 
his talent. Chess organizers would hesi- 
tate to sig 
might not even show up to p 

But what worried Davis most was the 
potential effect of such mass rejection on 
Bobby himself. “Being the best chess 
cr in the world is Bobby's only way of 
relating himself 10 the world,” he once 
told me. 7H hu "t function as that, he 
can't funet f he does i 
match and the consequences are 
as Tm afraid they'll be. м 
serious breakdown there.” 
looked me straight in the eye 
Maybe suicide,” 

With sudi risks in mind, Davis pro- 
ceeded delicately when he met Bobby at 
the Yale Club. Bobby greeted him w 
big smile, but behind the smile Davis felt 
wariness and resistance. So he didn't 
press. When Bobby asked how negoti 
tions with the Icelanders were going. 
Davis almost casually mentioned the 
deadlock over his demand thar the play- 
s get 30 percent of the gate apiece, but 


ius too morbid to 


for a major match a man who 


ay. 


e could see 


he 


he laid the blame tactfully on the Icc- 
Chess on's New York 
lawyer and suggested that а direct ap 
proach to Gudmundur Thorarinsson. the 
head of the LC.F., would produce a better 
result. His idea was to keep Bobby pli- 
able, to head off a hard stuement of pr 
ciple that Bobby would liter feel obliged 
to stick to. 

Davis respected many of Bobby's rea- 
sons for not wanting to play in Iceland. 
Way back in March. Bobby had told me 
that Iceland was “a stupid place for the 
match.” id it was too small, too iso- 


edera 


es 
lated, too primitive. He said the hall was 
inadequate and he was sure that the prob- 
Jem of lighting à championship chess 
match was beyond the skills of the local 
technicians. As for hotels, he said there 
was only one on the island fit to live i 
and he was convinced he would have to 
share it with the Russians and the press. 

MI the time Td be watched. No privacy. 
And another thing—there’s no way for 
me to relax in Iceland, nothing to do be 
tween games, The TV is dull, the movies 
all three years old, there's по good 
restaurants hardly. Not o 
on the whole sland. not even 
alley. Things Jike that might b 
playing. 

Bobby was also sure thar gate receipts 
would be disastrous hecanse there 


just 
weren't enough Icelanders w fill the 
scaits—and who could afford to travel all 
the way to Iceland and stay there for 


two months to watch a chess match? Bur 
what bothered him most was the problem 
оГ coverage. A few reporters might Пу in 
lor the start and finish of the match, bur 
the games could not be telecast to North 
America and Europe—no Intelsat equip- 
ти And this match ought to be 
, 1 predict that chess will 
become a major sport in rhe Unired 
actically overs 
Bobby 1 some financial objec- 
tions. He considered himself a sup 
the strongest chess player i 
d when it came to money. 
what superstars like Joe Frazier and Mu- 
hammad Ali are offered. The L.C had 
already met two of his three conditions: 
йори ntee of 578,125 to the winner and 
516. to the loser and a thick slice of 
the film and television. profits—30. pe 
cent to Boris, 30 percent to Bobby. But 
when Bobby demanded 30 percent of the 
gate, the LCF. had stonewalled. “If we 
give Bobby 30 percent, we must give 
Boris 30 percent,” said Thorarinsson. 
"But if we do that, how will we raise the 
prize money? No, the prize money is Bob- 
by's share of the gate.” 
point, Bobby had stonewalled, 
too. “If 1 don't get the gate,” he told 
Davis grimly, “I don't go." 


(t 
televised. If it 


star, 
the world, 
he wanted 


Even before discussions with Thorar- 
inssom began, Bobby had been firing 
with the idea of abandoning the match. 
Right from the start, he had been suspi 
cious of Iceland because it was Spassky's 
first choice as a site for the match. Brood- 

in his room at Grossinger's 
the Catskills, where he had set 
up his “taining camp." he found ene- 
mies everywhere. He described Dr. Max 
Euwe, the president of F.LD.E., as "a tool 
of the Ru ^ He said Ed Edmondson 
of the U.S. Chess Federation, the man 
who had spent two years of his life and 
bout 575.000 of the U.S. C. F's money 
to nurse Bobby through the challenge 
rounds. had “made a deal" and “betrayed” 
him to the Russians. By the time he left 
California, he had decided that the 
U.S. Government was against him, too. 
Edmondson and Euwe, he figured, had 
been persuaded by Washington to side- 
track the match to Reykjavik. where a 
Fischer victory would be so effectively 
entombed that it would not disturb the 
developing détente between. the U.S. 
and the Soviet Unio 

By the time Bobby returned to New 
York from California, these speculations 
had overgrown his mind like vines and 
may have obscured his view of the real 
tion around him. He was gripped by 
the idea that Thorarinsson and Euwe and 


the ТСЕ and FLD. must be “pan 
ished” for their “arrogance.” He told 
Davis ın make sure that the deal they 


made 
carni 
possible, wc 


would prevent the Icelanders from 
g a krona on the match and, if 
ld leave them with a loss. 
Even on those te 
would go, He shrugs 
would be gi 


s. he wasn’t sure he 
ged olf the money he 
ng up and seemed uncon- 
cerned that the title would relapse by 
default to his lifelong enemies. the Rus- 
sians. As for his career, he had no fears. 
"Everybody knows I'm the best.” he said 
carelessly. "so why bother to play?” 

After a few minutes with Bobby, it was 
clear to Davis that these ideas still had the 
run of his client's head. It was also clear 
that reasonable discourse would. hardly 
drive them out in a day. Only 
stroke could unwind his mind, 
ie alter six ра is delivered it. 

He took Bobby to the Yale Club bar for 
а meeting with Chester Fox and Richard 
Stein. Fox was the almost-unkuown direc- 
tor the L.C. igned 10 make a docu- 
mentary movie of the match, a 37-year-old 
cherub with an acute case of freckles and 
а halo of fuzzy orange hair. Stein was his 
backer, a stocky, capable wheeler-dealer 
who had made millions in athletic ap 
parel and then started a second career 
the law. His eyes twinkled I 
he came froma buy an was 
judged by the reputation of his brand 
name and the size of his cigar. From what 
he'd heard of Bobby, he was in for some 

(continued on page 176) 


] 
money and 


ess where a m 


The Graduate. 


There's the rum and cola 

you had at college and ^l 
there's Ronrico and cola. _ „i 
The one you have NS 
when you graduate. 


Ronrico. The rum with the bright taste. 


14 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 


people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement 
жуз 


TAKE THAT, YOU DUMMY! 
It's been one of those days: Sales are 
down, the boss is on a rampage, and then 
some clown lifts your wallet. Instead of 
taking it out on the little woman, pick 
on Numb John, a supertough, 62", 
150-pound police-training dummy of vinyl 
and steel. At $599 F.O.B. G-J Custom, 
19639 Whittier Boulevard, Whittier, 
California, Numb John isn't cheap, but 
he's a lot more fun than an ulcer. 


HINDSIGHT 
Bicyde riders and суйе freaks can now have the next best thing to eyes 
in the back of their head with two gadgets currently on the market. 
Look closely and you'll sce that the bespectacled gentleman above left. 
has affixed to his eyeglasses two tiny rearview mirrors that give him 
mighty sneaky peripheral vision. They're available in a variety of 
shapes from Ultra Light Touring Shop, Box 308, Brinkhaven, Ohio, for $3 
postpaid. His helmeted compatriot isn’t missing a shapely trick, either, 
as he's snapped on a Vizor-Vu plastic visor that also features two built- 
in rearview mirrors. (It's available from many cycle shops or from Helmet 
House, 2087 Pontius Avenue, Los Angeles, for $7.95 postpaid.) Although 
both products are sold as a boon to bike safety, they re obviously the 
biggest advance in girl-watching equipage since mirrored sunglasses. 


WATTKNOT 
Of course, you've always wanted а 50- 
footlong flexible cylinder with a giant 
bulb at one end, Well, desi 
Philip Lief sells both black and white 
Knotalamps for $150 each (72 Barrow 
Street, New York City) and you're bound 
NM 10 find their use un- 
limited. Hang one 
from the ceiling; 
coil it li 
snake; 
your girl — 
but, please, 
not in the tub. 


PUCK IT! 


If you've ever wondered what it feels like to be a hockey goalie standing 
alone in the net while the opposing tcam is zeroing in for a high- 
speed slap shot, then pick a fellow rink freak and try Brunswick's 

latest table game, Air Hockey. But lest you think it's child's play, be 
forewarned that the puck floats on a cushion of forced air that enables 
it to careen about the 3’ x 6’ table at speeds upwards of 100 
mph—unless you can stop it with your hand-held goalie. Air Hockey 
game tables are now selling for $299 at billiard dealers, department 
stores and other outlets across the country. And some neighborhood 
bars are even installing them as money-making devices. Happy hat trick. 


VINTAGE PORN 
Everybody's heard about feelthy 
French postcards, but did you 
ever really see one? Now 
you can, if you so choose, right 
from Gay Paree's turn-of-the- 
century hard-core porn parlors. 
Gimp Enterprises (P. O. Box 69, 
San Geronimo, California) is 
ic postcards, 
reprinted in sepia and blown up 
to poster size. Complete with 
gold trim, they cost $3.50 per 
or S25 the set (all including 
postage) and show very graphi- 
cally what fin-de-siécle femmes 
were up to. (Nothing's changed.) 
Mon Dieu, Claudine! Isn't that 
Grandmamma Sofie on our 
antique chaise longue? 


YULETIDE CHEER 
It comes but once a year, they 
say—but it’s always yuletide 

at Christmas Place, on 

48rd Street, just off New 

York's Sixth Avenue. Fake 
snow is flung about, a tree 
vwinkles in one corner, carols 
on the jukebox are sung by 

the dientele under the baton 
of the bartending Saint Nick— 
and the tables are strewn with 
walnuts, candy canes and 
windup toys. Owner Tony 
Kaarborg, a psych student at 
Colum! в а real special set 
for December 25th—a Fourth- 
of-July celebration. Humbug! 


DON’T PET THE DRAGONS, FOLKS 
Lindblad Travel in Manhattan, that purveyor of expensive offbeat 
junkets to such far-flung places as the Sahara, Antarctica and the 
Galápagos Islands, has done it again. This time it's come up 
with a 24-day, $3000 cruise among the islands Columbus never 
reached, the Indonesian archipelago. On the itinerary are such 


exotic ports of call as Ambon, Aroe, Nila, Dili, 
Flores (for the horse races, of course), $итпЬа and. 

that ultimate destination ofall would- 

be Saint Georges—Komodo, where the 

11-foot-long dragon lizards live, 

These babies, in case you've 
forgotten, can run as fast as а 

man and swallow large ob- 

jects whole. Take your 

track shoes. 


COMIC RELIEF 
Anyone who still considers comic book collecting 
kid stuff should drop by Manhattan's Com- 
modore Hotel July 4-8 and dig the Sixth Annual 
Comic Art Convention that will be in progress. 
Hundreds of collectors will be there to swap. 
and sell their wares, along with guest speakers 
C. C. Beck, creator of Captain Marvel, Batman's 
Bob Kane, Tarzan illustrator Burne Hogarth 
and Broom-Hilda’s originator, Russell Myers, plus 
films, seminars, parties, lectures, art exhibits 
and MUCH, MUCH MORE! POW! 


HAVE CAKE, WILL TRAVEL 
No, that's not Betty Crocker jumping out 
of her latest creation, it’s Brandy the Cake Lady 
—and for her minimum of $50 a pop (plus 
travel expenses), she'll liven your birthday or 
stag party by leaping avec or sans clothes 
from her specially built two-tiered papier- 
miché hiding place. To book the Cake Lady, 
whose background includes tap, ballet and 
belly dancing, write: Brandy, Р. О. Box 1435, 
Los Gatos, California. And if you've 
any prudish guests present who don’t like 
what they see—let “em eat bread! 


175 


PLAYBOY 


176 


THE DAY BOBBY BLEW IT (continued from page 17 


all profits from the films of the matel 
addition to th 
age (Fox later 


aid that it was 
percent) of the profits of Chester 
Inc. According to $ 


cLess—and maybe гед 


paper cup until he had mashed it down guillotine saving. 
to the size of 


St 
narrow with suspicion, he broke in that me 


1 realized ther 
that deals to Bobby were mouthing 
adrt u 


sold me later, 
e chess t0 me. Не 
word Га said. 


if 1 didn't think it would 


And whatever it makes. 


) 


him just Bobby's eyes narrowed aj 
gonna make more money t 
unced, to demanded. 


could Т do?" he asked his w 
In "E was pissing in the wind 
him a per- ness the guy was a slub.” 

Stein then esplai 


k the mon 
most of the profit. Bobby ki 
he wasn't sure that the p 
volved. 
“Well” Stein asked M 
or haven't we? 


didn't say no. "You better h 
told Fox € 
plane to te 


Davis almost cracked up. Bobby tell 
Bobby sat Fox to get oi 
nd crushing nailcd-down deal was like 


Alter you 
amed Fe 


Kenly, eyes But if Bobby 


Had Stein's offer m; 
more desirable: No 
"he utes. after they left. Bobby 
the aders а 


m 1 go 


derstood a 


other way would have to be found to get 
Stein explained that the Robby to id 
profits of a comp! 


е chesshe 


blizzard. One 1 


"e mother-in-law troubles? 
Не got his pregnant” 


sin, “Are you 


Stein looked helplessly at Da 


ife 
About E 


ned to Bobby that in 
the American way of doing busi 
II Bobby had to people who r 
to Iceland and pla 

id some comm 
the film Fox intended to when he was 
¢ of the match. 
watched Robby closely. got a de: 
they had both Bobby wouldn't say yes. but 
¢ offer would impress him. 
it seemed to confuse hi 
s suspicions. As Stein 


ey are entitled to 
ew that, but 
ciple applied 


‘or you'll miss that 


to Iceland without 


Iceland, did 
he expected to be ther 
le the match seem 
lor long. 


rd on time, 


ok and people know he's 


loaded with the kind of hearty spirits that 
keep out the cold. His eyes are bright, his 
voice is clear, his grin is large and wel- 
coming. He stands ^", weighs 250 pounds 
and at 34 has the ging ene 
that made him a hard-hitting thirdst 


nd. He is а successful 
ures” for 
s of medals, 
s called the Frank- 
education in the 

classics and a fine salty turn of phrase. 
Hallowell met Bobby in 1966, when he 
supervised production for the Xerox Ci 
hook 


and became his friend 

L like Bobby because he fights for 
beliels.” Hallowell told me. “I go do 
the line for him." 

When Hallowell showed up at the Yale 
Club on Thursday mornin head 
on into a crisis. The story of The Tussle 
in the Doorway between Bobby and the 
British reporters was on the wires by 11 
AM, and in a few hours half the newsmen 
in New York would be camping in the 
Yale Club's lobby. Bobby had io bc 
aked out of there fast. But that 
sive reporter and. photographer were 
‘olling the lobby like a couple of 
jumpy coon dogs with a panther up a 
пес. Hallowell and Saidy and. Hochstet- 
ter worked up ne to smuggle Bobby 
through the enemy Tine 

Still indignant about the att 
k into his room, Bobby was deli 
at the idea of escape. He promised to get 
up soon, but three visits and almost two 
hours later. Hallowell and Saidy found 
him still stumb! nd in his Jockey 
shorts. While Bobby washed and shaved 
nd dressed and packed. Hallowell, Saidy 
and Beers sat around in the tiny reom, 
fecling like 16 сол 1 phone booth 
making small talk and helpful gestures 

nd wondering how in Christ's name they 
could ever get Bobby to the plane by 0:30 
that night if this was to be the pace of 
progress. At Last, about two Pst, the plan 
of escape was run off. 

Saidy took the front elevator to the 
lobby. Th 1 left. but the pho- 
tographer w: Principally for 
his benefit, Saidy informed Hocistetter 

sky in a loud voice: "He's nor 
s take off.” And off they 
mousine. Bur the photog 
to check the 
freight entrance. He arrived just in time 
to see the back door swing ope 
Bobby, Hallowell and Beers walk out. 

When Hallowell told the phorogra- 
pher to buzz off. he said OK and headed 
ist on (th Street. Bobby headed west. 


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178 


wheeled around and took off in the oppo- 
site direction like a bigassed bird.” He 
turned at the corner and ran south for 
two blocks at top speed, dodging cars, 
startling pedestrians, making heads spin 
like turnstiles at the height of the Iunch- 
time crush in midiown Manhattan. And 
fier him, knees high and eyes bulging, 
me Hallowell and Beers. When they 
ached 42nd Street, they all wound 
down to a stop. Hallowell and Beers 
were gasping. Bobby had plenty of wind 
left. They looked hack. No photographer. 
A big grin spread across Bobby's face. 
“Really showed him, huh? Haw! Hawl 
Haw!" 

Hallowell laughed with him. Why not? 
He had no way of knowing that in the in- 
cident a theme had emerged, a theme of 
flight that would follow their enterprise 
II day long like а litle cold wind and 
before the night was over would send 
ter Bobby through rain and. 
ness under circumstances far more 
zied and bizarre. 


ar was Du- 
noon in Bobby's 
t his chief 


‘The next p 


company, he had de 
passenge 

жаз also appalled by the behavior of Bob- 
by's friends. “They didn't treat him like 
a person. They treated him like some 


ing to see the 
crept up his behind. 

And then came the incident at Un- 
vable Syms, Dubinsky had recom- 
ded the store as a great place to buy 
cheap (“Two hundred. dollars 
ninety dollars there"), but after about ten 
Bobby walked out. Dubinsky 
was suspicious. On the way to Barney's, 
a clothing store on the Lower West Side, 
he sizzled Hallowell for dropping a cig- 
arette ash on his precious carpet. Then he 
called the salesman at Syms and somehow 
satisfied. himself that Bobby had walked 
out because he thought Dubinsky was 
geu And that.” as Hoch- 
arted the pissing 


a 


stetter put it, 
n 


atch.” 
Bobby bought three ex 
le suits at Barney's 
be driven fart 
TV set and a dig 


awhile, Bobby's 
en steadily souring. 
On the way downtown to Unbelievable 
Syms, he had called Davis and warned 
him he still hadn't decided to go to Ice- 
Then he began telling Saidy he 
in't want to go—the deals 
id, besides, there was too 


under- 
ngerously 
. “Saidy figured it was bet- 
long with Bobby on the dow 
Hallowell told me, "and then try 


ter to 
swings, 


to carry him over the top on the up- 
swings. But he often came off sounding 
mealymouthed" Hallowell and Hoch- 
менег reacted more aggressively. Pr 
ticed and confident persuaders, they hit 
Bobby with pep talks about Iceland every 
chance they got. Bobby in reply did litle 
more than say "Mm." 

Everyone in the car felt a sense of r 
emergency. Hochstewer cut out on 
errand and while he was in the cles 


r, put 
through a call to his brother, the film lob- 


by's man in Wash d asked him 
to persuade Vice- nt Agnew, Bob- 
by's favorite politician, to send a telegram 
hing Bobby Godspeed, His brother 
tied, Hochsteter said, but Agnew 
couldn't be reached. 

A little while larer 
and went to the Yale Club to pick up 
Bobby's baggage and check him out 
Bobby lives out of two enormous plastic 
suitcases that look like toasted piano 
crates, He had one of them in 1003, and. 
helting it sround gave Hallowell his sec- 
ond unexpected workout of the day. 
Hochstetter joined him at the Yale Club. 
and they both repaired by taxi to Bill's 
Gay Nineties bar on East 51th Street, the 
point of rendezvous. At that stage. neither 
one had a clue if the arrow on Bobby's 
compass was pointing to Iceland or to 
California, On the evidence ayailable, it 
possible to say only that а man who 
was running around town geting ready 
to go to Iceland was probably stil 
sidering the trip. 

Davis turned np briefly at the Gay 
Nineties and carried. Hallowell off to 
some legal meetings. A little kuer the 
arrived. Bobby had his TV set 
digital clock. and after ап hour 
without pep talks, his mood had become 
larker. Tuning out the conversation, he 
buried his head in his chess wallet. 

Looking no sweeter, Dubinsky drove 
Bobby, Saidy and Hochstetter to a house 
on the Upper West Side where Bobby had. 
left some clothes with a friend. Bobby 
came out carrying a suitcase with adle 
that wouldn't stay on. “And now,” said 
Hochstetter, “the Mack Sennett  stull 
started.” 

Basi 


saw his chance to 


lowell gor out 


con- 


ly a sociable man, Dubinsky 
ke up. 

ll fix it,” he said, coming forward 
helpfull 

"You cant fix iL" Bobby told him 
invitably. 

Dubinsky drew hi 
anything!" he answered. 
to. When the handle was reattached, 
he stood back and gestured confidently at 
his handiwork. 

Bobby picked the suitcase up. The han- 
dle came ой. “See?” Bobby said. Twin 
jets of steam, Hochstetter assures me, 
shot out of Dubinsky's ears, and that was 
the Last time that day he had kind words 
lor anybody. 


Shortly after 6:30 raw., while Davis was 
reading over the agreement with Stein 
and persuading him to sign it even 
though Bobby might refuse, he got an an- 
guished phone call from someon 
by's party. According to Davis, the 
said: "We need you. Get here as fast as 
you can. Things look bad. We don't know 
how long we can hold him." 

“Take him to my place right aw: 


Davis answered calmly, “ГИ meet you 
there. 
Bobby arrived at the Davis apartment 


looking like a grenade abo 
“The atmosphere was so tense it 
Howell told me later, and D: 
agreed: "It was a touchy moment. You 
couldn't make eye contact with him. He 
at the point of refusing to 
take the plane. Г felt like a psychiatrist 
trying to cool out a patient hanging on 
the edge.” 


layed the occasion 


actively, Davis р 
evening with old friend: 
apartment is a pleasant old-fashioned 
gle of fairly large rooms in а good 
ky building in the West 70s. Hal- 


nd Saidy and Hochstetter sank 
wearily into some solid nondescript 
chairs and а fat sofa grouped around a 


Jes- 
ile, dark who has 
т own carcer as a pediatric 
ought them drinks, The three D. 
ildi M. Margot. 11, and 
nd out of the roon 
Bobby took a ch 
mer and s re look 
htened a little when 
he saw one of the Davis cats, а big, soft 
fur ball that looked consoling. Jessie 
brought the cat over and Bobby began to 
stroke it firmly and rapidly. “That cat 
usually likes to be petted.” Hallowell told 
me. “But for some reason, whenever 
Bobby touched it, the cat would wriggle 
free and run away, Jessie brought it back 
several times, but it still wouldn't settle 
down. Finally Bobby gave up and just sat 


glass-1opped соПее table. Davis w 


red wom 


there looking peeved.” He perked up 
again when Jessie brought him a big 
yoast-beef sandwich and a glass of milk, 


but whi 
in the conver 
looked away. 

Davis w: 
time, packing and dressi 
bu 


1 the others tried to include him 
i just mumbled and 


in his bedroom most of the 
ig for the trip to 
n he came 
wandering into the living room to follow 
the conversation and sneak a look at 
Bobby. Bobby didn't seem any happier as 
time went by, and time went by too fast 
for comfort. Takeoff was scheduled. for 
9:30 ›-м. and Kennedy Airport was about 
n hour away. There second flight 
scheduled to leave at 9:30 that usually 
took off a litle Later and а final flight 
scheduled for 10:30, but Davis wanted ıo 
keep them as emergency reserves. Eight 


now and 


179 


PLAYBOY 


180 


o'dock, he figured, was about as late as 
they could sensibly leave. 

Davis checked his watch: 7:20. There 
was still time to call Thorarinsson and 
wrangle some more about the gate. As a 
negotiator, he knew it was the perfect mo- 
ment to call. He had Thorarinsson over a 
barrel. With perfect sincerity he could 

y: No gate, no match. But as the man 
who had to deliver Bobby to the airport, 
he didn't want to risk a refusal from 
Thorarinsson unless he had to. If he 
reading Bobby's mood correctly, any- 
ig less than a complete capitulation by 
Thorarinsson mig 
putting Bobby on the plane 
dawdled over his pack 
phone call. Then promptly 
aggy tweed strolled 
into the living тоот and, looking at 
Bobby brightly, inquired: "Well, shall 
we gi 

Tt was а cool stroke and, under the cir- 
1 about as good a chance 
y of succeeding, but it didn't. The 
others rolled out of the chairs and moved 
toward the door, but Bobby looked s 
ted and began to sputter. “Hub? What? 
I haven't agreed to go! What's the deal? 
Whats the What about those 
open points? 
Why dont you guys go on down and 
wait in the car?” Davis continued calml 
"Bobby and 1 have some business to do. 
Then he tumed to Bobby. "OK, why 
dont I call. Lhorarinsson and sce wl ji 
сап work out? FIL call from the bedroom 


he kill the last hope of 
So 


he 


No, I'll stay 
out here, You handle it.” 

;" said Davis. But he knew the 
ion was anything but finc. Bobby 
cas less interested in ma 
n keeping his cscape routes clear. As long 
as he stayed in the living room and let 
Davis handle it, he was free to repudiate 
any deal that Davis might make. The su 
cidal impulse was so obvious it was scary. 


sit 
E 


—scarier yet because Bobby didn't seem 
to be aware of it. In order to defeat 
‘Thorarinsson, he seemed entirely willing 


to destroy himself. 
The phone call was a disaster. "I am 
sorry,” Tho sou said coldly 


We 
fter. concession. 
We have done everything in our power 


as we can. 


we have gone as а 
de concession 


to satisfy Mr. Fischer. But we have be- 
gun to wonder if it is possible to satis- 
fy Mr. Fischer. We Icelanders are а 
generous people, Mr. Davis, but we are 
Iso a proud people. We will be freely 
nerous, but we will not be forced to 
De generous." 

Davis understood ‘Thor 
tion. rising young politi 
who at 32 was a member of Reykjavik's 
city council constituents were al- 


He was 


concessions he had expected to shut 
Bobby up. “Even if they turned over the 
Bank of Iceland to Bobby," Davis once 
told me, “there would still be something 
he wanted." But now it wasn't really а 
question of concessions. Somehow Davis 
had to make Thorarinsson realize, with 
out actually telling him, that their in 
terests at the moment almost exactly 
coincided. that he was just trying to find 
а face-saving compromise and rescue 
the match. 


5. Whatever he did. it had 
to be done in the next 95 minutes. 
Davis necded time to think, but the only 
time left was the time it took to get to 
the airport. 

Davis walked into the living room 
briskly. like а man who had just accom- 
plished something. He told Bobby curtly 
what had happened and suggested that 
Vhorarinsson might take it different 
stand if he could be sure that this was 
Bobby's last demand. “Look,” Davis con- 
duded, “I think E can make a deal, come 
to some betterment based on costs. So 
why don't we go to the 
We've got the limousine right here. On 
the way, we can talk the deal over. I can 
1 Thorarinsson from the airport. We 
can keep the limousine. If we have to 
come back, we'll come back. We'll keep 
all our options open. OK?" 

Bobby very hesita id OK. Davis 
asked esie to call Lofileidir (Icelandic 
irlines) and tell them to hold the 9:30 
plime. Jessie and the children wished 
Bobby good luck 
him goodbye. Embarrassed but plea 
Bobby hurried out to the elevator. 

Outside, a light rain was falling 
with some debris from Dubinskv's 
explosion. It scems that w ting i 
the car. Hallowell and. Hochstetter 
realized they were hungry 
over to Gitlitz Deli at 70th 
way. "They ca 
beef sandwiches—one for Sai 
opened the back door of th 


irport now? 


tly s: 


nd then shyly kissed 
sed, 


‘Just one minute, gentle 
ed in the wi 


noun 
of a police 
shadylooking characters sneaking ge 
nite into a bank. “Not in my car you don't 
cat sandwiches,” 

But Morris, 
we don't have 


ag out here and 
incoars. Well 
“T don't cai blizzard out ther 
1 been through all this before. Ketchup 
rs on the upholstery. coffee puddles 
ıe rug. I'm sorry, gentlemen. A car is 
g in this car." 
and Sai 
looked at one another, shrugged, crossed 
the street, sat on somebody's steps and ate 
the rain. 
Damp but still game, they hui 
to the 


came down. Dubinsky opened the door of 
the limousine and waited for Bobby to 
get in, But he didn’t get in, He just stood 
there, head down and glaring, like a steer 
at the gate of the butcher's van. Davis 
heart fell into his shoe. Bobby whirled at 
him resentfully. “I mean, what's the dea 
1 still don’t know what the deal is! Why 
go to the airport now? There's another 
plane, right? Why should 1 go if | dont 


ave a deal?" 


Davis said. calmly. 
walk around the block and talk. 
deal.” Bobby had no raincoat 
was Guryil 
Davis was a 
the apartment to 
Bobby out of there again. So they stunted 
olf, Bobby t along suspiciously 
“What 1 have in mind," Davis be 
shing his wickedest paw-in-the 


s 


bout the 
and he 

hut 
ick te 
Ik, he would never get 


fi 


the players everything and does 
the Icelanders anything.” 

Putting it like that wa 
Bobby's eyes lit up. D: went on talk- 
i g it flinging it, grabbi 
Bobby's 
face as he built up a dream castle of a deal 
that made Bobby feel like a king and shut 
insson in cial dungeon that 
sounded truly dreadful but in fact had no 
walls at all. At on әке Davis robbed 
Bobby of his main apparent motive for 
not going 10 Iceland and gave him an 
extra inducement to play. 

"Well," Davis wound up firmly, “sh 
I try it on him?” Startled, pleased, su: 
pecting a trick but unable to scc it, fight- 
ing for а delay any way he could get it, 
Bobby said ye-ees, Davis got him back 
upstairs before he had time to change his 
mind. When Jessie saw Bobby walk 
her smile was something less than sincere 
and the cat hid. 


11 


vis made was simple 
but subtle: “The players will take all the 
gate above $250,000." The beauty of it 
was that it seemed to give Bobby plenty 
but actually gave him not I 1500 
people paid five dollars apicce to attend 
20 games, the gate would amount 10 ouly 
$150,000—and Thor sson 
figured it would be 
to the propo: 


less. 


sson was tempted, but he felt 
the people of Iceland were so angry 
with Bobby that even a hollow conces- 
might turn т inst the 


sioi em a 


who made it. He also feared that Moscow 
might not go along. So he refused. 


Davis must have done some tall talking 
to get Bobby out of that apartment and 
down to the limousine a second time 
"Thorarinsson lı n worse than 
nothing to work with, but somehow he 
persuaded Bobby that there was a solid 


d 
for 


ce of getting the deal he wanted be 
the plane took off. 

The limousine pulled away from the 
tment house where Davis lives no 
carlier than 8:45—that left about 15 m 
utes before take-off time. Traffic 1 
normal, they would be about 15 minutes 
v. For that long, Davis was pretty sure, 
Loltleidir would delay the plane. 

But traffic was not normal. ‘Three min- 
utes from home, they were caught in a 
sky made а dog.leg and broke 
nother jam. Everywhere he 
turned, the East Side was a mess. It was 
raining harder now, too, and that didn't 
help. Dubinsky's eyes gleamed like red 
lights in the rearview mirror and he 
began to mutter. 

Bobby was in a 


ра 


foul mood. too. The 
mute he sat down in the back scat 
felt all those big shoulders hemmin 
‚ he began to shallow breathe and dart 
his eyes around like a setup being taken 
for a ride. Saidy sensed the proble: 

lorce-fed c. "Man, think of 
the fant 
money 


lon 


V." Robby said, “if I get it” 

you'll get it,” Saidy insisted. “It's in 
trust for you. [n trust means it's there for 
you. And on top of that, there's your cut 
of the film and television sales, the fee 
you're getting from TelePrompTer for 


letting them use your name, not to men- 
tion the house, the car, а май of three 
And when you're champion, they'll be 
beating a path to your door with en- 
dorsements and TV and film offers 
You'll be able to write your own ticke 
Saidy meant well but when you're 
with Bobby, casting br 
the waters often brings up a crocodile. 
з, that reminds me," Bobby said, 
turning to Davis, "what 
hundred and twenty-five thousand P: 
Marshall said he'd get me from Chester 


Davis was startled. “What hundred and 
twenty-five thousand? I don’t know any- 
thing about it” 

Horror filled Bobby's face 
you OK'd the deal with Fox 
include that? 

“1 don't know anything about it.” 

"Oh!" he groaned, looking almost ill 
with di 
only his respect for Davis rest 
"Ohhhhh! How could you do u 

Another crisis. D. to feel like 
the captain of а pea р hurricane 
But he held steady 

"OK," he said c 


ulmly, picking up the 
radiophone. “Let's call Marshall and get 
the facts.” Paul Marshall is David Frost’s 
New York attorney, a brilliant negotiator 
and a specialist in international copyright 
law who had worked with Bobby u: 


mid-spring, when Bobby repudiated a 
general agreement that Marshall had 
patiently teased out of the Icelanders. At 
that point, Marshall had resigned, but he 
was still friendly to Bobby's interests in a 
distant, wary way. 

As the phone rang, Davis noted with si- 
lent irony that the limousine was still on 
the Manhattan side of the 59th Street 
Bridge. At the present rate of progress. 
there was almost an hour to go before 
they reached Kennedy, an hour in which 
Bobby could dream up all sorts of mind- 
pretzeling problems. 

Marshall sounded depressingly relaxed 
and unconcerned. "I thought you were al- 
ready up there.” he said vaguely. "Well, 
what can I do for you?” Davis told hi 
and Marshall quickly laid out the terms 
ot rcement he had worked out some 
weeks before with Fox. As it turned out, 
the terms were similar to the ones Davis 
a few hours car- 
ише 


and Stein had arri 


lem, Marshall vis agreed. The text 
could be altered and Fox could sign it 
in Reykjavik. 

"No! No! Pm not going!" Bobby 
announced when he heard that. "Not 
under those conditions!” 

Davis handed him the phone 

"Look," Marshall said. “F 
without you. He's got to go a 


nothing 
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181 


PLAYBOY 


182 


are you worried about? 1 make deals all 
day long. I know a deal when I se 
You've got а beautiful deal. What can Т 
tell you? Not even Ali gets that kind of 
contract with a percentage guarantee.” 
Bobby muttered some more. but the 
fire had gone out of his complains, As 
often happened when Marshall be 
speak, the tightness and suspicion in Bob- 
by's face relaxed, He Jet the matter drop 
—for the time being. 
Dubinsky knew Que 
knows a trash barrel, and 
59th Street Bridge, he struck out through 
back streets that hadn't seen а Cadillac 
since the aspl As the car 
picked up speed, everybody relaxed 
Ue and Saidy got Bobby involved 
conversation about digital clocks. Bobby 
med to take one to Reykjavik, 
nd other remarks, Hallowell 
sensed an assumption that he was going 
10 Reykjavik that night. The mood in the 
limousine improved stecply. Davis began 
explaining his plan to elude the media 
people when they arrived at Loftleidir. 


а сц 
ross the 


Bobby listened cagerly—like all chess 
ers, he dearly loves a plot. As the lim- 
e skimmed past the first airport 


at with a d 
make it. 

Tt was 9:50 т.м. when the lim: 
tered the traffic bay that Jed past the Loft- 
leidir passenger terminal. There was а 
crowd in front of the t 
gers or press? As the limous 
past, Bobby sat well back in his scat. 
“Press up the Hallowell told me. 
Looked like thirty, maybe forty newsp: 
per and television people w 
sidewalk or just inside the glass doors, ob- 
viously there for Bobby." Every third 
newsm necklace of Nikons. 
Here and there, somebody had a TV 
camera hamessed to his shoulder. They 
were all jabl ad looking sharp 
at the cars thar pulled up. 

According to plan, the limousine eased 
to a stop about 30 yards beyond Loft- 
leidir. Davis left the car and walked back 
toward the crowd. Dubinsky parked 
about 20 yards farther along and Hal- 


n w 


re a 


“Actually, we had something a little less 
structured in mind.” 


lowell doubled back to Loftleidir to let 
Davis know where the limousine w: 
parked. Davis meanwhile slipped anony- 
mously through the crowd of reporters 
and cameramen and was soon in close 
conversation with two young men. 

Both were slim, alert, brighteved, 
blond. Tedd Hope stood about 6'1” and 
looked like Tab Hunter did ten years a 
But behind his almost- ndsome Lace. 
there was a cool. swift executive mind. At 
30, he was the n cr of Lofileidirs 
Kennedy operation. H 
other young man, 
shorter and had a bright ice а 


But inside the forceful in e was 
subie diplomat. At 29, he was head of 
the reservations. department and a 
trouble shooter for the president of the 
U.S. branch of the ny. Good 
friends on the job h of the: 


young men were witty, honest, 


and disindined to swallow anybody's 
exhaust. Both had the punishing energy 
that gets things done under pressure. 


Indridason had been vigorously informed 
by his superiors that getting Bobby to Ice- 
land was а matter of national concern, 
and the Lolileidir staf stood ready то 
move Bobby 
a viking raid on Dul mousine. 

Davis gave a quick fillin on the situa- 
tion in the limousine ("Very touchy. 
We've got to play along"). Hope listed 
the r hts. The first of the 
9:30 fights was already closed, he said. 
but the second was st п and there 
was the 10:30 flight, too. 

One dawn, two to go. 

Then the three of them put together a 
simple plan to elude the media and case 
Bobby on board the 9:30 plane in the 
next ten minutes, But there were prob- 
Jems aside from Bobby and the press. The 
crowds, for one thing. It was June 29, the 
height of the summer rush to E 
Cars and buses and stretch li 
heir engines, came 
fie hay in front of 


whizzing into the 
the terminal and piled up two 


the curb. Then they poppe 
huge parcels and out fell b 


ntly colored 


passengers and luggage. People every- 
where were kissing and laughing 
ning around with blank airport 


large sour-faced cop kept blowing one of 
those whistles that go through your head 
like a bright steel nail, And on top of ev 
erything, it was now raining cantaloupes. 

The plin w: » Bobby hidden 


d 


ven to the р 
let's do it" Hope hurried olf through 
the h g to get the w: 


passage through the 
ilic, Hope 


ived in a white 


station wagon, which he double-parked 
beside Dubiuskys Cadillac. The сор 
promptly banged on his fender. “Move 
along, mister,” he said. Hope explained 
the baggage transfer. “М 
the officer ruled. “You see the conditions. 

Hope ran to his tailgate and opened it 
Doing his duty but not liking it, Dubin- 
sky emerged into the rain and opened his 
trunk. Then Hope, Hallowell, Dubinsky 
and а Loftleidir supervisor named 
Asgeirsson, prodded by a cop who looked 
night sticks at them every few seconds, 
hustled Bobby's luggage into the back of 
the st 


ion wagon. Davis checked the bags 
to make sure they were all there 
"OK," Hope said, “it's ten-hfieen. T 
plane is already forty-five minutes latc. 
If you w 
move now 
"OK," Davis said, “let's see if we 
get Bobby to go out with the baggage 
Hallowell opened the back door of the 
limousine on the curb side aud stuck his 
head in. “Bobby,” he began—and stopped. 
The limousine was empty. 
Hallowell spun around. 


t to make it, we have to 


“Where is 


h 
nswered. 
line ter- 


“I don't know,” Hochstetter 
"He left while you were in the 
1. He said he wanted to go get a dig- 
iral clock. but Tony said no. he'd get it 
but before he got very far. Bobby jumped 
That's the last 1 


ıd went afte 
saw of either of th 
Davis turned white. "Can you hold 
it ten minutes?” he asked Indridason, 
who nodded. “АП right. goddamn it, let's 
find him! 
Davis, Hallowell 
headed off at a dead rı 
lobby. Hochstetter waited briefly at the 
limous cd to join the hunt 
Hope jumped into the station wagon 
and, in line with Davis instruc 
drove the baggage out to the plane. 
Dubinsky stared in disbelief at all this 
panic over one man's momentary disap- 
pearance. Then he fl 
air. “What is all this horseshitz" he in- 
quired of nobody in particular. 


and Indrid 
n toward the m; 


c, then dec 


аз, 


ng his arms in the 


Davis, Hallowell and Indridason skid- 
ded through the duty-free shops like 
shoplifters on roller skates. AIL day long, 
disaster bad been hanging 
enterprise lik 


g over the 
a fiveton chandelier with 
ag at its cible. What a 
me, they were thinking, to get 
this far and then have the roof fall in. 
Please, God, Davis was praying, don't 
let the press find him now. The press 
didn't, but another kind of trouble did. 
While Davis and his friends were keeping 
a sharp lookout for the obvious danger, 
they got blind sided 

It happened like this: About two mi 


utes after the others had left, Bobby and | west: 133005. Estrella, Los Angeles 90248 / Midwest: 1500 Greenteat, EIN Grove Village, MI. 60007 / Canada: 5. H. Parker Co., Ontario 


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184 


Saidy spotted the limousine just as Du- 
rd pressed by the trallic cop, 
through the tralfic bay to 
the east arcade, an area that includes a 
taxi stand and a secluded courtyard. 
When they arrived at the limousine, 
Bobby asked Dubinsky to open the trunk 
so he could мом the clock he had just 
bought in one of his suitcases. Dubinsky 
got out of the car and explained. that 
the trunk, 


the suitcases were по longer ii 
“We moved th 
he said. 


“You moved my 1 without my per- 

s nor right!” He turned 
ight! 

eed—át the mo- 


Nervously, Saidy 
ment, it was dificult to do anything else. 
But that was all the support Bobby 
needed, “He was begin 
power.” Da ater. 
we had all been catering to | 
he had the airline people hol 


plane and ru 


is said 


suddenly the frustration, 
lor i 


anxiety, depres- 
of the day came 
nd spewed out as bitter bile 
Bobby burst out, 
whirling on Dubinsky. "How dare you 
у baggage without my permission!” 

Dubinsky flushed, but at fist he tried 
to explain the situation calmly. Bobby 
could not listen. In a surging fury. he 
began to chew Dubinsky out, demanding 
10 know by what right he had so much as 
touched ıl gs. and so on. But Dubin- 
sky is not a man who сап be chewed ou 

Stocky. muscular, half a head shorter 
but probably I 
пе on like a wresth 


ad pa 


chin thrust forward, “Listen, mister." he 
announced in a voice warm with prom- 
gularion. "you better keep 


у н shut HE you don't. PH shut it 
for you, and if you don't think Lean do it, 
keep tal 

Bobby went pale. but he stood tme to. 

Saidy was in а panic—il Dubinsky hit 
Bobby, he might knock him all the way 
back to California. “ TM tell you 
something else.” Dubinsky went on. "You 
may be a genius at chess, but in every: 
thing else уоште a big jerk!” 

Bobby's fury began to collapse. He had 
pictured himself as the boss raising hell 
with an employee, but suddenly the boot 
was on the other foot. "Aaaaaa!" he said, 
his horns toward 
alety of the Cadillac. 

Me," Dubinsky yelled alter him tri- 
phantly. "Fm а genius at everything 
ng. D do it i 


What 1 d 
d I did it on the instructions of the m 
who is paying me, which you are not!” 

Dubinsky was still leuing him have it 


when Bobby ducked back into the Cadil- 
lac, looking badly scared. “That man's 
gerous!” he told Saidy, rolling his 
eyes in alarm. "He's violent. He ought to 
be put away. Who is he? He looks like 
some kind of foreigner.” 

Saidy. who looks approximately like 
Abdul Abulbul Amir, replied soothi 
yeah, we don't need any lore 
around here.” 


Just as the Bia н. 
Hallowell and Indridason came hurrying 
back to the limousine [rom their wild- 
goose chase afier Bobby, At the spot 
where the limousine had been parked, 
they stopped short and looked both ways 
along the curb. “Christ!” Davis said 
Now the limousine was gone, too. Why? 
Where? Davis hunied over to the sou 
faced cop. “Officer, if you were a smart 
limousine driver, where would you 
‘The cop directed them to the courtyard. 
When Davis, Hallowell and Indridason 
. they found Bob- 
very quietly in the 


arrived at the | 
by and Saidy sitting 
back seat 


nousi 


guarded tone. 

Davis said they'd all been looking for 
him everywhere. because the plane was al- 
ready an hour | 


there a de- 


gone wrong. 

"Bobby." he began carefully in 
soothing. old-friend-ol-the-family 
he uses so effectively with Bobby, 
think —" 

“I mean.” Bobby cut him off sharply, 
“stop trying to hustle me, right? 

It was time to back off. Bobby's eyes 
hard again. Suddenly he came to 
the point 

“And how 
my bags; 

Davis looked blank, thinking vaguely 
of the statie 


заве? Wh 


gon. . .. ht was gone! 


2 


Seeing c, Indridason 
ed forward and said simply, * 


mean? 1 never said Vd 
go. Whar's going on? 1 want my bi 
Tm sitting right. here" 
out of this саг until my baggag 
КООШ understand? 7 
my baggage! 

His voice wa 
tremblin 


want 


you 


and he 
1 the impression of “a man in a very 


jc state of mind.” 


Davis hesitated, wi 
moment around. but S 
support Bobby in his headlong overreac- 
tion, “That's terrible, that's terribl 
Saidy said in a shocked voice, tears for 
some reason welling in his eyes. “You 
shouldn't have done that. Putting a man's 
baggage on a plane without his permis- 
ion! That's really terrible! 
hat was all Bobby needed. He had 
found an all-purpose excuse for del. 
With Saidy’s support. he rapidly propa- 
gated an awkward moment into а night- 
mare of shadowy motives and sinister 
poten 
hac right!" Bobby rushed on. "How 
could you do that? ] never said Fd go. 
те you trying to do, shanghai me? 
They're stealing, my things! Wow! 
How could you do that?" 
is and Hallowell explained that 
d been moved with the best in- 
Tn fact, we thought you were 
in the nd watching us move 
" But Bobby refused to listen. 
ng to Ind 
ipped desperation: ight, 
bring the fucking bags back! Believe 
he went on, "I know what this is 
to you. But you sce what the situa- 
tion is. I need time. He's exhausted, terri- 
I want do take him 
t, get some food 


son 


bly overstrained. 
upstairs 10 а темаш 
into him 
I think I cam do it, But I 
ih il you bring 


n't do any- 
the fuck 


call was put 
e the plane was 
ded. Hope boggled it further, 
Might already an hour Late, but. 
on insisted they had to 
with this character." 

Hope had a thought. "Look. let's save 
ime. Well drive Bobby straight to the 


ne in his limousine. ТЇЇ pick up а 
Port 
the 


Authority escort and 
t gate. Bobby 
e there. The 
the escort 


you at 
bag- 
the limousine сап fol- 
ss the field to the 


low 
pk 


In a few minutes the report came back 
that Bobby 
Alter. complex 
about ten minutes, Hope, Indridason and 
two airport cops in a Port Authority st 
showed up at the 
y all waited for the С 
Which did not come 

Why not? Indridason was driven all 
the way back to the terminal, nce 
оГ about hall а mile, so he could ask if 
Mr. Fischer woukl care to drive over and 
inspect his bags. 

"No," Bobby said gı 
10 bring them to me her 

In the Ca 
lowed thi: 


"They have 


ac anxious silence ol- 
remark. Bobby seemed 10 


e 


“And to what do you attribute your remarkable 
long life of a hundred and twenty-one years, Mr. Thilby?” 


blame Davis for the ba incident and — what air was to a tire, and it was clear he them i 
had almost stopped speaking to him. needed some reinflation. Besides, Saidy 
When he had anything to say. һе stid it to was gung-ho to talk to Bobby alone and 
Saidy or Hallowell, Something had to be — —who could tell? A fim hand hadn't 
done to soften his mood. Saidy did it, He worked. Maybe a soft voice would. “Good cases and pack 


жеге now stacked in 
was hungry. he said. How about Bobby? — idea," Davissaid. а comer of the main lobby of the In 
Why didn't they go ups 


rs to the coffee m ternational Arrivals Building, about 200 
shop and get something to 


Soaked to the sl 
Davis knew the restaurant was a risk. hens after hand-car 

Reporters and photographers w 

prow! everywhere, But just let 

sit there in the 

a much greater 


ned to be polite to his dificult 
sts, Indridason explained courteously 


steps from the coffee shop, amd that 
Bobby could inspect them any time he 
liked. Hope, who had more water in his 
g Bobby Hope and Indridason arrived in the cof pockets and more 
adillac and stew seemed fee shop, where Bobby and Saidy were 
isk. Food was to Bobby sitting with Da 


onthe — about 30 yards through 


t risk in the enter- 


went straight to the heart of the 
is lar as he was concerned. “The 


is, who had just joined 


185 


PLAYBOY 


186 


plane is now almost two hours late,” he 
told Davis briskly. "You or somebody will 
have to make up his mind right now if he 
going on this plane or not.” 

"Give me a couple of minutes,” Davis 
swered. “I just want to talk to Bobby." ton with the suit 
We've been giving you a couple of The рар 
minutes all night Hope said icily body began fra 
ad left Hope asked again if anybody wanted 
© minutes later, I to make this plane. Bobby said c 
the baggage ove UN talk about it some more 
Hope left, glowering, and ordered 
0 plane to take off. It left the ramp 
11:20 ем. 


want this baggage dried right no; 
Davis felt it all slipping away. For the 
first time that night, he looked in his 
mind for ан d drew a blank. He 
iping the Sony car- 
ndle. 
towels arrived and eve 
lly drying luggage. 


is came down to 
Hey, it’s wet," he 


could be dried off. He went st 
st bag he saw and pi up- 
The handle came off. Davis gulped. 
"FIlI—uh— " he said and snatched the 
handle away from Bobby. 

Then Bobby noticed the carton con- 
his new Sony television set. “It's 
gasped. 
do yon expect,” Hope 
‘coming in out of the rain? 

Bobby was appalled. “You mean this 
has been standing in the rain? My TV set? 
Oh, no! What dol a place is this? Z 


"OK," Bobby announced wh 
bags were as dry as five hard-working 
income executives could make them. 
now on, nobody touches my bags, 
T want this baggage in lock- 
ers And / want tlie keys.” 

Nobody looked at anybody. The near- 
cw lockers were about 90 feet away. 
Bobby insisted on carrying most of the 
bags across the lobby himself. Saidy was 
lowed to сату а few. Then Bobby and 
tidy stowed the 1 lockers. Bobby 


wer!” hı 


“Wh: powered 


The way I heard it, if you don't masturbate, 
you'll go crazy.” 


couldn't get the keys out of the locks, but 
Hallowell showed him how. Finally, with 
vate smile that seemed to go with 
feelings of power and possession, Bobby 
pocketed all the keys. "By that time.” 
Hallowell told me, "Bobby was dead- 
white, obviously exhausted, suitcases 
under his eyes." g t0 Saidy, Bobby 
invited him back up to the restaurant. 
‘The others he instructed 10 wait. Then 
he marched olf, stone-faced, and left 
Davis standing there like an untipped 
porter. 


A ble: thered around 
Davis. The desperate exuemity of the sit- 
uation was clear to everyone. In chess 
terms, Bobby was on the verge of su 
mate. In the next half hour Bobby faced 
a decision that must Gown or crush 
hopes of a lifetime, 
no mood to 1 
ally. To ma 


matters worse, Davis now 
Jooked beat. He felt as if he had whipped 
into a hairpin turn at 90 and all at once 
found himself dutching a steering wheel 
that had simply come off in his hands. 
What now? 

1 nd the others went up to the 
bar next to the coffee shop and knocked 
back а belt or two. Then Davis squared 
off, lawyer style, for another look at the 
problem. 

The problen m't money, was 
Thorarinsson, wasn't even pride or prin- 
ciple. Davis suspected that it was lear. 
Bobby at best was one of the most easily 
«| people Davis knew, but he 


vis 


seen him as frightened as he 
- Frightened of what? OF los 
ОГ winning? Of the press and the 


led by the Icelanders 
or assassinated by the Russians? He m 
have been afraid of all these thi 
there was something else. Some old terror 
was slithering around in the bottom ol 
Bobby's mind. What was it? Davis had no 
idea and there was no time to puzzle it 
out now. It was ight. The 10:30 
Hight, the last plane to Reykjavik, was al- 
ready 90 minutes late. There was no timc 
for tact; he had to barge in there and see 
Bobby ri 
Unfortu 
him first. 
as a mirade that somebody hadn't 
scen him long before. By И ьм. shortly 
afier the Port Authority police drove 
Bobby's bags to the east gate, most of the 
media people had phoned in a hard re- 
port that Bobby was somewhere at Ken- 
nedy. Then they scattered to find 1 
For a full hou 


ely, somebody else had seen 


colfee shop stulfing himself with eggs and 


toast and talking carnestly with Saidy 


only a few feet off the corridor but some- 
how too obvious to be seen 

‘The conversation 
said later. He felt he had 
suaded Bobby to swallow hi 
take the plane. 

And then the chu 
peller. 

It was a 12yearold boy who spotted 
Bobby. “There was this little blond kid.” 


ney hit the pro- 


Hochstetter said. “Hed been hanging 


around with the newspaper photogra- 
phers and the TV news crews, You could 
tell this was the big moment of his life 

Worried at secing so many press people 
passing so close to Bobby, Hochstetter 
tayed in the hallway between the bar 
and the coffee shop, where 1 could keep 
track of things. This kid came along and 
I saw him duck into the restaurant where 
Bobby was eating, A minute later, he 
came running out and went tearing down 
the corridor to where most of the press 


hed into the restaurant. 
Bobby and Saidy took off just like that. 
"Go into the bar! I told them. "Way at 
the back! ‘They'll never suspect!” So 
they did Well, the whole megillah came 
thundering up, at least twenty of them. 
Nikons, TV cameras, strobes. They 
charged into the restaurant, and then out 
And I'm standing there. ‘You look- 
ing for Bobby Fischer? I said. "He went 
down there!" And I pointed to the stair- 
way that goes down to the lobby on the 
ground floor. So they all ran down there 
and I figured that’s the end of u 

About two minutes later, they all came 
charging back up again. "And then that 
damn kid fooled me." Hochstetter con- 
tinued. “He went snooping around in the 
bar and spotted Bobby again and came 
running out, hollering, "He's im there! 
He's in there!” So th y all rushed 
into thet 

Hallowell was ready for them. When 
they hit the end of the bar, they ran 
4-year-old 250-pound former thi 
string tackle on the worst Harvard te 
since World War Two and he threw the 
test block of his career. For about 30 
seconds, Hallowell had 20 men piled up 
in front of him. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, 
making like the 


а 


from NBC!" 
importantly. 

“No shit," Hallowell answered calmly. 

Suddenly they 
lowell, but as they went charging toward 
Bobby, they met Bobby charging out. 
Face closed and shoulders twisting, he 
pushed quickly through the started pack. 
There were shouts, flashes, shoving, 
clutching, cries of “Bobby! Bobby!” 

It a scary moment, and not only to 
Bobby. “Those guys had been wait for 
Bobby in that airport all week,” Davis ex- 
plained. "They looked wild. 1 had a feel- 


a reporter in- 


formed lı 


"I don’t want to be just another pretty face." 


ing they'd do violence to get their story. 
Му heart started pounding. But it 
worse for Bobby. Theres someth 
about strobes, flashbulbs, strong sudde 
bursts of light. Maybe his eyes 
sensitive. Anyway, it seems to hurt him 
physically. Hell do anything t0 get 
away from it.” 

Just ahead lay the corridor. As Bobby 
hit it. he turned left. Hallowell was not 
far behind him and right behind Hallo. 
well was a TV cameraman, an assistant 
carrying a battery pack and a rack of 
lights and the 12-year-old boy who had 
started it all. The lights were blazing, the 
camera was whining and the boy was 
squealing, "Mr. Fischer! Mr. Fischer!" as 
they all turned left, too. 

At that moment, a large male hand cov- 
ered the TV camera’s lens. It belonged. to 
Hochstetter, who had been waiting in the 
corridor for just such an opportunity. “It 
was like putting pepper in a Turkish 
wrestler’s jockstrap,” Hochstetter told me 
ppily. “The cameraman let ош a 
scream. The lighting man screamed, too. 
Пу they pushed me out of the way, 
but as the cameraman went past, I gave 


him a good swift kick—right in the crack. 
nd 


round 


He gave a yell and turned 
started after me. I backed off. 1 1 
a devout coward. 1 didn't want to fight. 
AIL L wanted was to give Bobby a chance 
to take off.” 

Bobby got it. He ran down the st 
three and four at а time, Hallowell about 
20 feet behind him. Indridason, who hap 
pened to be standing not far from the 
bottom of the steps, said Bobby's eyes 
were wide and blank, After him, yelping 
with alarm, came the pack of newshounds. 

Thanks to Hochstetter's holding ac 
tion, Davis and Saidy reached the stairs 
ahead of the press and raced for the bot- 
tom, where they turned to make a stand. 
For about five seconds they body-checked 


the g horde. Somebody threw a 
punch at Saidy. Davis gave way slowly 
ad as the TV cameraman rushed past 
him, he stepped accidentally, he insists, 
a the cord that connected the camera 
to the battery pack. The camera went 
dead. The cameraman stared in dishe- 
lici. First some son of a bitch had grabbed 
his lens and kicked him in the slats. Now 
this son of a bitch һай w 
camera, It was too much. Screeching 
ly, he snatched off his glasses 
and with his camera still harnessed to 
is shoulder, pushed a floppy little punch 


plugged his 


By the time the press broke out of the 
stair well, Bobby and Hallowell were out 
of sight. 

Yelling and cursing. the newsmen 
closed in on Davis, Saidy and. Hochstet- 
ter. A Port Authority policeman hurried 
over. 

"Whats going on here? 
aded. 


the othcer 


“Who's he" th 
Everybody expl; 
the i 


diguandy described the 

I Another cop 
pbed Hodhstetter by the arm. He in- 
nantly denied the charge. Th 
man then accused Davis of punch 
him. Davis drew himself up and declare 
with lofty forensic disdain: "You, sir, 
nd a worm." 

The cops knew a lawyer when they 
heard one. "All right, all right,” one of 
them said. "Break it up. Move along.” 


Davis, Saidy and Hodhstetter stood 
staring at what was left of one another. 
Hochstetter had been up since eight th 
morning and h: en almost nothing 
all day. The blue blotches under his eyes 


187 


were the size of mussel shells. Saidy was 
pale with shock. For three days running, 
he had put out a total effort of emotional 
diplomacy—and now this! Davis looked 
battered, but there was still plenty of 
fight in him. 

Shei!” he said savagely. Then he 
straightened out his eyes and went on 


PLAYBOY 


briskly: "OK. Anybody sce which way 
he wen 

Nobody had. 

Davis bit his lip. The situation, as 


Hodhstetter described it, was "a three- 
hundred-and-sixty degree fuck-up.” 
Davis turned to Indridason. 
long can you hold the plane? 

"We'll hold it." 

For the second time that. night, Davis 
rized a search. First, Saidy broadcast. 
a mesage to Bobby over the airport's 
loud-speaker system. No reply. Then 
Davi d Hochstetter ransacked 
every coffee shop, bar, lounge and men's 
room in the main terminal building—a 
vast sprawling structure that covers about 
40 acres and runs two thirds of a mile 
from end to end. 

‘Their ace in the hole was Hallowell. If 
he was still with Bobby (and if he wasn't, 
why wasn't he there with the rest of 
them?), then sooner or later he would get 
to a phone and tell them where Bobby 
was. In the meantime, they had to do 
what they could—and hope they got 
lucky. They didn't. 

Unstoppable, Davis proposed plan B. 
“Let's call every hotel and motel in the 
airport area.” One by one the hotels 
swered. Bobby was registered at none 
of them. It was one AAC A full hour had 
passed since Bobby bolted. The last 
plane to Reykjavik was now two and a 
If hours late. Hope was going out of 
his mind. There was no word from Hal- 
Jowell, It looked as if the jig was up. 


How 


Bobby rau down the stairs three and 
four at а time. Behind him he heard 


shouts. was clos- 
ing big man, landing hard and. 
breath At the bot- 


tom of the stairs, the main lobby of the 
International Arrivals Building spread 
away оп both sides. Straight ahead he 
saw a row of glass doors and beyond the 
doors a trathe bay. He ran for the nearest 
door, hitting it with both palms just as 
the photoelectric cell popped it open а 
tomatically. He was on the sidewa 
Which way now? 

А wall of rain lay ahead. He tu 
and began to sprint. The 
door and came poun ter 
Bobby jerked a glance over his shoulder. 
Jt was Hallowell! "Are they still behi 
us?" he hollered as he ran. "Are they still 
behind us" Hallowell glanced back. No 
pursuit in sight. Relief showed in Bobby's 
face. They were in the clear! He picked 

188 up his knees and really poured it on. 


Hallowell raced after him. He was in 
no shape for this. For the past five years 
that big body of his had pushed nothin 
heavier than his chair away from his desk. 
Now for the second time that day, he was 
up on his hind legs and moving out after 
Bobby ashe hadn't moved after nything 
ince he turned in his crimson sweat suit. 
Remembering his morning workout in 
mid-M tan, he wondered uneasily 
how long he could keep it up. He was sag- 
ging after 14 hours of incessant and in- 
creasing nervous tension, but as he 
watched Bobby blast off in front of him, 
he had a sinking sensation that he was 
chasing a man so charged up he mi 
run for an hour before he ran down. He 
set his will hard. No matter how long and 
how fast Bobby ran, he'd just have to run 
right along with him. Losing him now 
would mean losing everything they had 
been fighting for. As long as he held on, 
there was а chance he could talk Bobby 
back to the plane. 

The sidewalk in front of the terminal 
was about 18 feet wide and Bobby ran 
straight down the center of it. He was ob- 
viously running in a blind burst of emo- 
tion—all kinds of emotion. His feet hit 
the pavement like blows struck in anger 
and his legs leaped and exulted as if 
shackles had just been struck off. He was 
а prisoner breaking for freedom amd in 
his first wild dash, he had no idea where 
his legs were taking him. Hallowell saw in 
horror that he ghe 
toward the Loftleidir terminal, where the 
media people had been headquartered all 
night. The sidewalk was empty now— 
could they zip by without being seen? 
They made it halfway. Then Hallowell 
heard a scurry of running feet. 

“Bobby! Bobby!” a newsman shouted. 
“Wail Wait! Please! Tve been here 
all week! 

It was one of those cries of despair, like 
the yowls of a cartoon cat when the mouse 
escapes, that are rightly answered with a 
raspberry. But this time, inexplicably, the 
victim apologized for escaping. 

“I'm sorry!” Bobby yelled contritely 
—but kept on running. 

Like a scatback heading for the side 
lines, he veered into the traffic bay. At 
the farther curb he hesitated an instant, 
checking the traffic, then darted across 
the airports two-lane circular highway. 
Pulling hard, Hallowell raced alter him. 
engulfed them. Both were coatless 
and before they hit the other side of the 

vay, their jackets and thighs were 
. Together they plunged into the 
enormous parking lot that covers the a 
port's infield. 

At the third or fourth step, Hallowell 
landed splat in a huge puddle. Water 
gushed up through a hole in one shoe. 
Water spewed up his uouser legs and 
drenched his knees. Water ran down in- 
side his socks. 


ded. “Slow down!" 
tened look over his 
Is 


“Bobby!” he ple 
Throwing a fr 
shoulder, Bobby asked in a high voice, 
ody still there 
‘Nobody's there, 
him. "We've lost them. 

Bobby kept on running, “Stick with 
me!" he shouted. "I know what I'm do- 
ing. Believe me, I know what I'm doing!” 

Alter that, Bobby slowed down a little, 
but he showed no sign of stopping as he 
galloped across a black lake inhabited by 
swimming snakes of light and bouldcred 
with silent empty automobiles. Behind 
them, the roar of the traffic died to а mur- 
mur. Now there was only the noise of 
their own heavy breathing and the ruckus 
made by their feet as they pounded black- 
top and splashed through puddles 

Bobby ran on for two minutes, three 
minutes. Hallowell's chest was collapsing, 
his legs were unliftable. Nothing but will 


Hallowell assured 


he gasped. "Let's ро... 
American Airlines . . . VIP Lounge 
I'm a member. . . . No press people can 
-. find us there. 
Bobby fiercely refused. “No. I want to 
get out of this airport, y'understand? I 
amt 10 get oul of this airport! 1 want to 
take а cab. I want to take a сар and get 
out of here! Then he remembered a 
restaurant several miles from the airport. 
“I'm hungry. 1 want something to eat. 
We'll get a cab and go there. Nobody'll 
find me there. 
‘Anywhere you say, Bobby.” But let's 
get there fast, Hallowell was thinking. If 
he didn’t get to a telephone and call 
Davis pretty damn quick, they could 
kiss that plane goodbye and probably 


the match. 
When they hit the circular highway 
again, Hallowell hailed sing cab. 


Bobby told the driver where co go and 
they drove for seven or eight minutes. 
Bobby was still jumpy, still teetering on 


the brink. Hallowell made small talk, giv- 
ing 


a Lime to wind down 
iddenly the driver remembered that 
the resturant wasn't there anymore. It 
had been wiped out by a cloverleat. Hal- 
Jowell groaned—more time wasted. 

“Where shall we ро?" Bobby asked 
helplessly. "I don't want to go anywhere 
those press people can find me." 

Hallowell suggested а Howard John- 
son's motel and restaurant they had 
passed on the way. They were on South- 
ern State Parkway now, about lour miles 
from Kennedy, and the next turnaround 
a couple of miles ahead, but the 
er jumped the island in the middle of 
the highway and drove them back to 
rd Johnson's. 

Bobby looked 
“We far enough aw! 
don't want to be anywhere 
port.” Hallowell reassured I 

There was $6.60 on the meter. Bobby 


around suspi 


“After your quarrel, Lord Henry, your wife seemed very hurt. I felt 
it my duty to follow her into the bush and finish her off.” 


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PLAYBOY 


192 


ill open. Bobby said he wanted food, so 
су about 100 yards through the 
rain to the Hilton Motel next door. - 
Hilton, both the bar 
t were closed. 
ard Johnson's. 
1 а dark corner of the cockt; 
AM. 
They ordered dii as Hallowell re- 
calls, Bobby asked for a whiskey sour 
—and Bobby started talking about the 
press with concentrated hatred, Not à 
word about Iceland or catching the 
planc. Hallowell's foot was tapping furi- 
ously, He had to get to а phone, but he 
new Robby 1 body to 
know where they were. If he rushed 
olf, Bobby would suspect what he was 
doing and when he came back, Bobby 
might not be there. But he had to ch: 
iù Excusing himself. Hallow 
away to the men’s room 

From a pay phone he called 
mation, The phone rang interminably 
he asked the operator for Loft 
"s number at Kennedy Airport. In a 
little while, she said there was no numbe 
ar Kennedy. there was only the m; 
number in Manhattan. Hallowell called 
t The phone rang interminably. Hal- 
lowell rolled his eyes. "Come on! Come 
on!" he Any minute now, 
Bobby might come looking for him. Then 
а young woman answered. Hallowell de 
scribed his proble Му and 
gently as he could and asked her to put 
him through on the tie line to the Loft 
Icidir terminal at Kennedy. 


Hot 
settled it 
lounge, it was Close to o 


mattered, 


“Tm sorry, sir," tli 
“we have no tie lin 

Hallowell almost jumped into the 
mouthpiece. “I knew there was а tie 
line,” he told me later. “There had to be 

tie line. So id some ex- 
tremely forceful th en up, the 
irl agreed to call Kı y and tell some- 
hody there to call Hallowell. 

Three minutes later, Hallowell’s pl 
rang. minutes after that, E 
жаз on the line. 

Andy! I'm w 
“Is he all right: 
Yes. 

“Thank God! Where are you?" 

Hallowell explained. 

“We'll be right over. Aud for 
sake, don't let him out of your sight! 

Five minutes later, а Loftleidir station 

wagon roared up to Howard Johnson's. 
Davis and Saidy jumped out and hurried 
. Hope and Indridason followed the 
Moments lochstctter arrived in 
Cadillac with Dubinsky, who at long 
last had resolved his two-day conflict bc- 
te and duty. 
Dubinsky told Hochstetter, 
"when 1 say ГИ do a job, I do а job. But 
this is ridiculous. I'm going home. I find 
this Fischer a very depressing person and 
1 no longer wish to have him in my car 
1 am sure you will have no trouble gening 
home. 1 will send you a bill on the first of 
the month, Good night.” Exit Dubinsky. 

As Hochstetier walked through the 
street door into the lobby, he saw. Davis. 
Hallowell, Indridason and Hope walking 
in from the lounge. “Tony's talkin 
10 him.” Davis explained. A few minutes 


г young woman said, 


Bobby." 


hrist's 


“We'll grab it as soon as the 


"re through.” 


later, Saidy came out and beckoned to 
Davis. While the others stood in the 
Jobby and watched from about 50 fect 
away, Robby, Saidy and Davis paced 
ck and forth at one end of the lobby. 
under а sign di l RUM KEG ROON 
For the first time that night," Hope told 
g up. He 
ms and talking. We 
thought, Somebody finally got 
through to him. Now we're getting some 
- Now he'll go." 

fact, Bobby was telling Davis em 
ly that he would not go to Ice- 
ıd. He would not go, he said. until the 
ıl was right. He wanted Davis io go in 
stead and see if he could make it right. 
“Here ave my demands," he said in а 
cold voice. "Either 1 get them or 1 don't 
go. One: I ng referee. 
Lothar Schmid has to go. Two: 1 want a 
better TV deal chester Fox. 
Iw of the 
prire money in my hand when 1 get off 
the plane in Iceland. Four: I want thirty 
percent of the gate. When I've got those 
demands, I'll think about going, 

So they were back to the original pos 
jon—and then some. AIL of Bobby's 
unmet demands were in th 
the one 
grumble tha 


had suddenly matured into 
must. Davis looked at Bobby's eyes. 
They were hard and opaque and they 
didn't look back. Four people pusl 

for two full days with all their might 
had Enled to budge Bobby an inch. And 
now they had run out of time. There was 


nothing to do but admit deleat—and see 
what could be salvaged from that dele 

Davis reached down into his bag of 
lawyer's tricks. Alter all, there was still 


the Saturday-night plane... 

“OK, Bobby.” Davis said firmly. “Sup. 
pose 1 go. Suppose I get a reasonable bet 
terment of the deal. Will you come? 1 
" to know. Will you come? I don't 
want to go up there on а wild-goose 
chase.” 


Bobby looked guarded. “TI think 
about i 
Davis looked angry. "Come on, this is 


no joke for me, Bobby 
Bobby caved a little. 
but"—the hard covering fell off his eyes 
amd the scaredness showed. through— 
t I want Tony to be the 100." 
Davis looked at Saidy. Saidy nodded 
Then Davis nodded gravely and held 
out his hand. "On that basis.” he said. 
TII go. 
And he went. 
As the оне 
away, а Little 
Bobby's mouth, After th 
proved rapidly. Saidy could 1 
or even speak, 
depressed by what had happened, and 
Ha d Hochstetter were not 
much better off, They figured they had 
just watched Bobby destroy his career 


All right. ГЇЇ go, 


gon pulled 
at the corners of 
t his mood in 
rdly move 
usted and 


as so exl 


lowell 


But Bobby spoke firmly and moved confi- 


dendy, like a man who had just had a 
major success. 
Wenily, Hallowell called for two lim- 


ousincs 


опе lor himself, one for Bobby 
and the others. When his Cadillac came, 
Bobby jumped in eagerly. He 
to stay at Saidy's father’s house in Doug- 
laston and he liked Saidy's mother's Leb- 
ancse cooking. Saidy and  Hochstewer 
eased in alter him and slumped in the 
softly molded, back-supporting seats. In 
Douglaston, before he got out of the lim- 
Bobby shook Hochstetter’s hand 
“Thank you very 


ousine 
and siid respecilully 
much, Mr. Hochstetter. 

Bobby and Saidy raided the refrig 
tor, which was loaded with leftover L 
Bobby put away sevei 


nese goodies. 1 
pounds of food and then Saidy took him 
to the third floor. "here were three bed. 
rooms there and а bathroom, too. "Хо 
body else up herc,” Saidy told him. 
"You've got it all to yourself.” Bobby 
nodded happily and seemed impatient to 
һе 


Saidy had the impression һе 
wanted to play chess 


And that is the beginning of the story 
of how Bobby Fischer caught a plane to 
Reykjavik. It took four more days and the 
combined efforts of hu 
pe s well as a 
Jandslide of good luck, to get him actually 
ahoard For the next two days, Davis put 


several dred 


ple and two governments, 


"Fhorarinsson through the and 
the Saidys treated. Bobby like a sacred 
rhino, but he accepted their efforts as his 
due and calmly missed the plane on Sat- 
urday night. The match was wrecked. 


But Bobby's luck held, On Sunday, 
Spassky saved everybody's neck with 
an act of rare courage. Risking the cer- 


tain disapproval of high officials in Mos- 
cow, he allowed the opening of the event 
to be postponed until Tuesday. Marshall 
now reemered the situation, and in a 
behind-closed-doors harangue that began 
ad lasted until four o'clock. 
Monday morning, he pierced the perim- 
cter of Bobby's defenses. 

Then сате a purely incredible piece of 
luck. On Monday morning, a London 
banker and chess bult named James Sla- 
ter offered to double the $125,000 prize if 
Bobby would play. “Chicken,” he said in 
a message worded for him by Marshall, 


"come оп out!” 

Bobby was tempted, but five hours 
ilter the offer reached him he was still 
hol Then Marshall threatened 


g out 
to quit again. At that, Bobby gave in and 
agreed to go. Just for insurance, Marshall 
arranged to have Henry Kissinger call 
and ask. Bobby to play the match for the 
sake of his country. Set up by his talk 
with Kissinger, Bobby announced to the 
press that he would fly to Reykjavik that 
night. He did, and after another weck of 
Ryzan ludi- 


sometimes sometimes 


face we di 


crous maneuvering, the Chess Match of 


the Century beg 

Before it was over, the world had dis 
covered another Bobby. Right to the end 
he came on from time to time as the bad 
hat from Brooklyn as the 
began to claim his attention, the fears 
d suspicions seeped away like 


but ames 


goblins 
fading with the moon, and the force that 
had scattered in tantrums moved in be 
hind his will and his talent, He proved 
to be а grim but dignified loser, а fero 
пет, а warrior 


es by a discipline as severe 


cious but courteous wi 
ist who | 
asa samur 

Victory followed victory and the world 
eagerly forgave the winner for tearing up 
the pea patch back in June. Bobby 
insisted that when he relused to take the 
plane, he was fighting for a principle. But 
wasn't it lucky that for a princi- 
ple happened to make great publicity for 
the match? One day in Reykjavik he 


ter 


yhti 


stood in a needlepoint shower and, grin- 
ning through the water that ran down his 
face, asked with the sheepish glec of a 


red with illicit chocolate: 
k the march would have got 
tention without all the—you 
know—fuss?" When I grinned back at 
him, he began to laugh. The day Bobby 
blew it wasn't really such a bad day for 


Bobby alter all. 


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$ IHE NME MACHINE (continues rom page 131) 


PLAYHB 


194 


porcelain tiles, and perform my morning 
ablutions—— 

CAMERA NUMMER TWO: He goes over to 
the lavatory and splashes cold water onto 
his face, forgetting that he urinated in the 
bowl the night before. 

CAMERA NUMBER ONE: Refreshed, I re- 
turn to my study. Upon the floor beside 
the studio couch are two bottles whose la- 
bels bear the name of my favorite brandy. 
Both, inexplicably, are empty. А thor- 
ough investigation of my liquor cabinet 
reveals it to be empty, too. I am horrified 
t my own thoughtlessness. Suppose some 
visitor arrives—what can 1 possibly offer 
him to drink? In this day and age of fre 
quent callers, it is downright indecent to 
have nothing in the way of liquid refresh- 
ment on one's premises. I must remedy 
the oversight at once. 

I start for the door, only to be drawn 
up short by the dawnlight, which by this 
time has crept into the room. No vendor 
will open his establishment to me at this 
hour, even were I able to rouse him. It 
an y before I can set aright 
the hospitality of my house. 

Any moment, some visitor may arrive. 


“Have you got a woman in there? 


In God's name, what am I to do? 

CAMERA NUMBER TWO: He has not had a 
visitor since the landlord dunned him for 
the rent three weeks ago. Other than that, 
thc only person ever to come to his door 
during the ten-odd months he has inhab- 
ited the room is the hooker who lives 
down the hall. She knocked one evening 
when business was dull and offered him 
a cutrate lay. He told her he wasn't 
interested. 

CAMERA NUMBER охь: In my anguish, I 
begin pacing the floor. Presently, T dis- 
cover that I already have уоту Шпее 
beldams, who apparently entered. when 
my back was turned. They are wearing 
Salvation Army uniforms and carrying 
tambourines. They follow ше about, 
shaking the tambourines, but I have no 
change to give them. Their faces seem to 
be made of bread dough, which they keep 
Kneading with their free hand into di 
ferent shapes, each more gruesome than 
its predecessor. 

I try to avoid bumping into th 
this is difficult and becomes more so by 
the second, for the floor is swarming with 
vermin and I have to watch every step 1 


m, but 


et \ COCHRAN 


NN 


take in order not to crush one of the hor- 
rifying little creatures beneath my feet. I 
make а mental note to report this deplor- 
ble state of affairs to the landlord next 
time J sce him. If he again refuses to 
call in an exterminator, I shall go di- 
recly to city hall and ask to sce the 
building inspector. 

In the meantime, I must be careful. 
More and more vermin are emerging 
from the mopboards and climbing up 
through the register: the air is filled with 
their minuscule squealings and squcak- 
ings; their baleful BBs of cyes gleam and 
glisten in the pink light tha 
the room. They appear to be orgar 
themselves, 10 be forming into ranks. It is 
as though they are preparing to attack. 
Too late, 1 realize that they have drawn 
themselves up into a Lilliputian army be- 
tween me and the door. 

Oh, they are clever, these loathsome lit- 
Ue beastics—but not quite as clever as 
they think. They have effectually blocked 
me off from the door, yes—but not from 
the time machine. 

However, I must act quickly before 
they discover that I have a second avenue 
of escape and surround me. But not too 
quickly, lest 1 precipitate their charge 
id bring them swarming over me in a 
noisome unspeakable mass. My three visi- 
tors, [ note out of the corner of my eye, 
have departed. Good. Slyly, 11 
chine. I am not quite close enough 
e a slow step toward it. Another. 


t now fills 


Now- 

I stand there, frowning. Why am I hesi- 
ily not because I am afra 
is nothing to be afraid of. My tran- 
sition will be virtually instantancous; the 
ire age I will emerge in can he no less 
kind than the onc I am about to lea 
And it is possible that news of my coming 
will have preceded me, in which case I 
shall be welcomed with open arms. 

Why. then? 

А loud whi 


pering comes from behind 
me. Т feel something soft touch my feet. 
Someone beg ing into my car 
omcone I know very well but whose 
€ I cannot quite place. T hesitate no 
My legs bend, straighten: I hurl 
mo the machine. Brightness 
breaks all around me as T penetrate the 
photon field: the time barrier dissolves 
into a mill inkling sounds, then I 
am falling—twisting. turning. plunging 
through the continuum, the wind of time 
whistling past my face. Suddenly, the 
temporal stresses multiply, come crashing 
against my body in a great red wave. I 
b nk out —— 

CAMERA NUMMER TWO: In due course, 
the time machine receives him to its 
breast. Although it is already loaded 
with time travelers, the addition of one 
more has no effect upon its speed or 
equilibrium. 

Incluctably, it forges onward into the 
furure, constantly taking i 
clers on board. All of them except Grieze, 


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PLAYBOY 


196 


“Raquel Welch, in full, living 


color, jumping rope in the nude, is what I'd li 


to watch... . 7 


who is scheduled for a briet stopover, are 
bound for the same destination. But th 
iy а missracemet the ti ination 
of his stopover. Grieze will reboard the 
time machine and help it keep its rendez- 
vous with Nowhe 

CAMERA химиги THRE 
alopolis 16 and the horizontal 
af the R & R Center reci 
tion room are adorned with water di 
monds. The windows overlook a medley 
of glass-brick laboratories and. pyramidal 
computer complexes crisscrossed with 


р- 


ra ise apariment towe 
the low-hanging clouds. 

The man from 
all to himself. He 
since early morning. He rises quickly to 
his feet as the inner-office door opens and 
the divector of R & арр 

“He's on his way,” the director says, 
advancing into the room. "By the time 
he gets here hell know who he is—or, 
rather, who he was.” 

Why did it 
to understand th 


I was given 
R&R has been per 
fected to the point where it can be accom- 
plished in less than an hour.” 

You forget that this is the first time 
we've gone higher than а chimp. 105 true 
that the more material we have to ex- 
Irapolate from. the faster we can get the 
job done, and that in this case we had 
the entire endoskeleton. But this is our 
st man.” 

“I want him intact, 
‘TimeLab says. 


the man from 


ow, what's on?” 


“What I can't understand is why you 


We need him. We need him desper- 
y- We see him 
€ by accident, we discovered 
he published on photon diffusi 
we are convinced from what he wrote th: 
he may have the answer to our problem 
tucked away in the back of his mind 
"How do you know he won't jump out 
another [ourth-story window 
Well have him rehabilitated. of 
couse. But equally important, he'll be 
working with people who will accord him 
the love and respect his own age de 
him—dedicated people who s 
lieve he can help them find 
means of time travel.” 
The director of R & R laughs. “Wheth- 
er he can or not, at least he'll have the dis- 
tinction of being the first human. time 
Do you lize,” the director 


з à sort of savior, 
paper 
па 


practicable 


1 all the years the services of R & R 
have been available to the public, yours is 
the only request we've ever had to resur- 
rect and reconstruct a man? That up to 
now, practically all our work h 
the field of extinct animal species? 

“Naturally. Theres no red tape in 
volved in resurrecting а rhesus monkey ог 
а bald eagle.” 

“You can blame it on red tape if you 
want to. Or on legal complications or on 
the papal encyclical condemning the res 
urrecti Is or on food rationing 
on the latest census report. But I think 
there's a much more applicable reason. 1 


was right, Perhaps you're fa- 


ih the lines: 


“And those who husbanded the 

olden grain, 

And these who flung il io the winds 
like Rain, 


Alike to no such aurcatc Earth атс 


tumed 
As, buried once, Men want dug up 
again.” 


“I am familiar enough with them to 
know that in quoting them out of context 
you're wying to justify your own eyni- 
cism." the man from 1 b says icily. 
“Ii is my form belief that basically all men 
love one another 


an beings 


whale wouldn't agree with you." A buzz 
sounds, "Hei eler now." 
Vhe st 


m 


crystal-paneled corridor be- 
mposing golden door. A blue- 
smocked young man—clearly my escort 
—releases my arm. steps forward and 
opens the door and nods for me to enter 
the room beyond. 


1 comply. noticing as | do so tha 
1 ат dad in а white suitlike ensemble. 
Standing in the room 


two tall 


el. As E enter, one of them ad 
arms outstretched and 
ting on his lips 
eze.” he cries. 


app: 
vances toward 
m smile of 
“Welcome, Profesor Gi 
“Welcome to the u" 
CAMERA. NUMBER 
smile of greeting on the lips of the man 
from TimeLab waves. His outstretched 
arms sig slowly to his sides. He realizes 
with а mild shock that he does not like 
Professor Grieze. 
CAMERA NUMBER TWO: 
Professor Grieze. No оц 
one ever will. 
Nevertheless, the people of TimeLab. 
will put up with him. They will have to. 
First. they will turn him over to the 
people of PsychLab, whe will dig his 
second-grade schoolteacher out of his 
brain, impale her with a Neo-Freudian 
stake and make whatever other adjust- 
ments are necessary for him to live a sanc, 
sober, relatively happy life. Then the 
people of Lab will take him into 
their fold and he will join them in their 
search for a practicable time machine; 
and none of them, not even the time 
traveler himself (who by this time, of 
course, will have been apprised of the 
true nature of his time trip), will real 
ize that there is only one such machi 
and that all the while they 
for it, they are standing on it. 


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PLAYBOY 


198 


THE SAVAGE BIJOONA 


This past year proved especially 
fine: five before the election, and then, 
unexpectedly, i new hostelry i 

lotte, a sixth! No record. of созе 
sighted nine in 1948 and Stone of 
Scripps Howard reported eight in 1952, 
Blue Double—but not bad, 


more. 


this 


not bad. 
It had not oc 
into casual conversation with а lady in 


ed to me, until I fell 


Milwaukee in March, that there may be 
persons not familiar with the humanitar 
ian work of the Society. But I recall her 
husky whisper, and the dink sweep of her 
guorous eyes. as she lifted her lovely 
head. from the pillow to ask, "Darling. 
2" dp was then Пы 

e this sn 
id appropriate 
opportunity might combine. not in the 
terests of publicizing the Society. which 
seeks no publicity, but in the hope of ex- 
ng the good work now being done. 
In order quickly 10 comprehend the 
clementary but diabolical nature of the 
bijoona, it is necessary only to call to 
mind the ordinary, or conventional, toilet 
seat, This object commonly is found in 
the doubledeafed version, though singles 
are not at all uncommon in public facili- 
ties and in lesser hotels. In repose, as it 
were, both the lid and the seat are in a 
horizoml position (H.P.). But when 
this Éimiliar. receptacle is put 10 its in- 
tended use by the male of the species. 
the components are raised 10 the vertical 
ition (V. P). Now, it sometimes hap- 
nd occasionally both. of 
ing 


is a bijoon 
lined to pre 


instead of r 


obediently i sely will 
fall to the H. P. phenomenon is at 
i nee. И can. become а 


omenon is known as 


a bijoona. 
‘The etymology of the noun is obscure. 
An absurd story gained currency some 
10 years ago that it derived from Bijou, 
from the theater of the same name. It 
was supposed that some theatergoer. hav- 
ing sought relief. between Paramount 
News and Coming Attractions, encoun- 
tered the phenomenon that is the subject 
of this paper and rushed headlong into 
the lobby, crying, "Bijoona! Bijoona!" In 
volume one of The American Language, 
Н. L. Mencken dismissed th 
mise, and I know of no seri 
who embraces it today, 


It was Mencken's conclusion that the 
origins of bijoona are simply onomato- 
pocie, in the many other 
nouns. If one imagines the descending 
component, as it whooshes [rom the V. P. 
to the H. P., catching the startled srandee 
unaware, bijoona seems entirely а 
priate. Bijoona! What else could one sa 


fashion of 


(continued from page 99) 


So there we have it. The spelling has 
been fixed by the Society since 1939, 
though one encounters bijuna in parts of 
Alabama and Louisiana, and bijouna 
common in the 23rd Congressional Dis- 
tria of Pennsylvania. In France it is le 
bijouncr, in Germany day Lidgetroppen 
dammit. One finds djoona in the Punjab. 
sh spelling follows our ow 
1 Society of Bijoons 
ded in 1935. largely 
spirational efforts of 
Llewellyn N. Plunkitt. а 
vigator and mathe 
mandan of Welsh extraction. His de 


The Internation 
Tou 


hiers was 
through the 


Commodore 


born. 


© paper “The Bijoonas of New 


d. though Р arves monu 


mental Classifications has proved indis- 
study 


pensable (o the systematic 
subject deserves. Plunkit 
from the Navy. 
such distinction, continues to function 


without compensation, s honor 


our 


November wireless was dispatched. 
You will understand more of the Soci 


ety, perhaps, if 1 now insert in the record 
the letter D sent following my message. 
It read as follows: 


My Dear Plunkit 

Following 
1 regret to advise you that a 
o'clock this afternoon 
of the Downtowner East 
ci 
countered a bijoona. This i 
white seat by Obonite 
fixture by Case Manufacturing Com- 
pony. Robinson, Illinois. No excep 
features were observed. 

I should very much appreciate 
your sending the Society's usual Let- 
ter of Remonstrance a lor 
Abatement to the man 
motel aforesaid. 

With every good wish, and with 
warmest personal regards to your col- 
leagues, believe me, sir, 

Your obdt, svt., etc. 


ay wireles of dris dare 
1:58 
з room 615 
Motel in 


lotte, North Carolina, I have en- 


single, 
attached to 


On receipt of this communication 
der the rules, Commodore Plunkitt took 
two actions. He sent me, by return post, 
the usual Certificate of Appreciation, 
which now hangs with othe 
my dressing room. ‘This recites the time 
and place of the disc 1 should add 
that each such certificate counts as one red 
point toward a bijoona life 
awarded when the number reaches 50. 

Commodore Plunkitt also dispatched a 
formal Lener of Remonstrance to the 
Downtowner Motel. to which w 
atement. І 


trophies in 


very 


nastersh 


feel certain, such is my confidence in the 
Management, that the situation was at 
once put to rights. But so that you may 
understand the procedures, I should say 
that the Society retains а number ol re 
gional inspectors. accredited, 
fe-mastership. 
© if proper 
. An adamant 
manager may expect to find 
his establishment posted in the Society's 
yearbook, Bijoonas of North 
The 1972 edition, covering bijoonas un- 
corrected through the fiscal year ending 
June 30. thus identified 84 hostelries in 
the tes, II in Canada amd four in 
Mexico. The number was eight. percent 
under that of the preceding year 

As you will have noted. the bijoona in 
room 615 was of the ordinary variety. It 
nothing, truly оке special 
tention. Under Tarver's Classifications, 


properly 
ach of them holding а 
chose duty is to deter 
batement ha 
or indilfer 


America. 


т of the two components, and not 
both components, descended from the 
V. P. to the H.P. upon elevation. Had 
specimen warranted full description, 
ht have been ed further as 
ingle F. F., or Fast Fall. Much more 
the STs, or Sneaky 
. decep- 
n suspended 
three seconds, 


tive lite devils, that rem 
in the V. P. 


for two or 


just long enough for a gentleman to 
Commence upon the act that brought 
him to the ambush in the fist place. 


Then, wham! 
These encoi 
ity and poise. 


d speed, agil- 
ambidexterity 
years ago in Oklahoma City, when 
faced an S.T. in the old Huckins 
remains a legend within the Soc 
ety. He had just entered his room. rather 
ected to pur down 
an umbrella and а large boug 
he was carrying in his r 
his mother's birthday. How Tarver pre- 
served dignity, umbrella and roses, all in 
a lightning stroke, is the чиг of wh 
epics are made. 

You may ask, as the lady in Milwaukee 
asked. what causes а bijoon: 
common cause (it 
of a double F 
quently encount 
maiden ladies. Sui 
duces the Shaggy Bijoona, a species so 
quickly recognized as seldom ta 
difficulty. The genileman who approaches 
а john thus caparisoned is put on notice 
at once that a h may be lying i 
wait. He is forewarned, and thus Fore- 
med. He takes priate defens 
action by holding the components firm 
in the V. P. with his right hand or, as the 
case may be, with his lett. 

Other bijoonas result from a swell 
or a aacking of the plaster in the wi 
behind the tank, This has the effect of 


‘Tarver's 


som 


I roses 


? The most 
bly the cause 
the seat cover, fre- 
d in the chambers of 
ormment. pro. 


Ss invar 


cause 


“I wanted a little apartment in the city, but no... 
you had to live near the giant!” 


199 


PLAYBOY 


200 


moving the tank just enough out of align- 
ment so that the seat and lid component: 
instead of resting at the peak of a 94- 
degree arc (the arc is 97 degrees in the 
Rocky Mountain states, of course, because 
of the altitude), now stand at a precarious 
The slightest. movement. may 
np to the Н.Р. If one 
n ihe past to trust a 
y—if one has had no 
son to suspect the burgeoning or late- 
blooming bijoona—its perfidy can be u 
nerving. Is nothing stable in a restless 
world? Such are the reflect 
through a man's mind in dı 
ald john lid falls. 

Most bijoonas, as the one in room 615, 
result simply [rom inatteni on the 
p of the installer. He has his mind on 
other things. He [ails to make the custom- 
ry tests and checks. Zap! He bolts the 
seat in place. Wham! He slams it down. 
And so to the next assignment, leav- 
ing behind a contraption, innocent in 
nce, waiting patiently to trap 
ary. 

Correcting a 


BH or 89, 


зона is по casy task. 
blem will vield to 
ig down of the little rubber 
bumpers that separate lid from seat. In 
other instances, а powerful. screwdriver 
may be employed as a lever in the hinge. 
This approach demands cau Too 
much pressure may, indeed, correct d 
gle ot inclination. arresting the tr 
tory from V.P. to H.P., but it 
so result in an unplea 


ioi 


may 


of the seat as а whole, which, when put 
to sedentary use, produces thereafter. а 
rocking motion. "This tends to divert a 
tration and may са gid- 
ss in the young. Better by far simply 
to scrap the thing altogether. A vetted 
bijoona, even though it may appear h: 
Jess, never can be wholly trusted a 

These [ew paragraphs by no means 
exhaust the subject. It is tempting to 
reminisce upon famous bijoonas one has 
known—the Monumental Oaken Bijooi 
of the Grove Park Inn at Asheville, North 
Carolina, discovered by this ШЫ in 
1952, ге a cherished event, There 
have been interesting bijoonas 1 Wilkes 
Barre, Pordand, Sioux Falls, and an ab- 
solutely splendi the Jayhawk 
Hotel in Topeka. The venerable Hilary 
Du Beau, a founder of the Society, some 
years ago recorded a Double Shaggy Pur- 
ple S.T. in the boudoir of a lady in Butte. 
The committee approved five bonus 
points for the sighting. a superfluous 
award. to be sure, to а connoisseur who 
was even then a life mastei 

Membership in the Society dem 
only а modest fealty to the pursuit, to- 
gether with an elementary grasp of 
arver's Classifications. The nonprofit 


rm- 


ds 


chartered under the laws of 
. imposes no dues. It survives— 
indeed, it flourishes—on the gratitude 
of the countless travelers it has served 


ound the world. 


In Ihe future, Miss Scott, don't book two 


nymphomaniacs on the same day!” 


JESUS CHRIST SUPERHAM 


(continued from page 90) 
Every day, in the luncheon tent, the 
two factions would mumble in corners 
and watch, waiting for a showdown 
Their leaders, however, let them down 
completely. Obstinate, not 
ing, they insisted on ren 
friends a ped cassettes 
ads, embraced in the suns! 
squealed Saint Thadder 
that in the script." 

Still, away fre 
showing signs of st 


of explosions—blazing rows with hotel 
managers, semibi g pools. 
tales of unpa overturned 
tables, In between outl he withdrew 
entirely, immersing himself in solitude 
and silence. Having sent for his girlfriend 


from Los Angeles, he found he couldn't 
even speak to her and had to parcel her 
off forthwith. АЙ human contact, all sen 


timent irked him unbearably. "Judas 
means distance and coldness.” he said. 
‘Then he suddenly laughed. “Loneliness, 


and 


bad vibes, being mean," he chortled, " 
man, I really dig it. A few times I d 
Id really like to be close to someone, 
but then, as soon as I am, I start feeling 
trapped and have to run away. Anyone 
I care about, I destroy them, try to drive 
them off. I hate responsibility, depend- 
ence, need, any kind of closeness. Deep 
down, I just d 
Jesus, when told of this, was saddened 
but not shocked. Spreading his robe se- 
renely about . he squatted in the 
shade and heaved a deep sigh. "Whether 
you're Judas or Jesu 
dalene,” he said, 


What was all the fuss about Superstar 
in the first place? Certainly it was am 
ble and energetic, full of bounce and 
tentions, all the thi 
meant to 


the Messiah has been box-office 
bollo and the notion of rocking (ће Gos 
pels was predictably good for а storm of 


controversy. In its field, it was a thor 
oughly skilled and entertai 
nd one could easily sce why it was 


REAA that was a dream coat of qui 


another color. 

Larry Marshall as Sa 
a marvelous skin 
Jew Vork speedoo, mong the 
apostles, had failed 10 weep. He 
nza in terms of the per- 
. “AI the trappings of 


ex- 


fect comprom 


rack, none of the reality,” he sid. “Color, 
; brashnes, a agcousness 
—people feel groovy dventurous 


ad yet, at the 
fe as milk.’ 


because they go to sec it 
same time, it keeps them 


Te was true Шат Superstar's public was 
essentially halfway house—middle aged, 
middle class, middlc-brow, demihep—and 
that, even when it reached the young, it 
missed the hard-core rock fan. What it 
marked, in fact, was the final integration 
of pop into the mainstream of Western 
culture. Here at last wa kids’ show for 
all the family. Electric guitars по longer 
т orgy, anarchy, imminent holocaust 
—in Superstar, din was mere high spir- 
it back and 
and remem: 


its, anger only а gesture. 
enjoy it." Saint Simon said, 
ber it’s only a story 

As such, it became a rallying point 
There were millions, after all, who had 
grown weary of Herb Alpert but couldn't 
yet stretch to Frank Zappa: who liked to 
smoke three joints a month, taken after 
dinner, but went cold at the very thought 
of needles; who deplored tie. Vietnam 
war and were civil to all ethnics on prin- 


ciple without remotely wishing for revolu- 
tion. A massed liberal bourgeoisie, ooring 
with cash and changed aspirations. 

Somehow, before Superstar, they had 
been overlooked. No one had quite per 
ceived their grow 
enormous willingness to flirt. Even Sw 
perstar had originally been aimed at the 
kids— Jesus freaks, lapsed hippies, just 
plain fans. Thus, the initial combustion, 
as with all the greatest successes, was 
largely unexpected. 

As soon as it had happened, however. 
and the smoke had cleared, it was obvious 
that the pickings, both short- and long: 
term, were stupendous. A whole new mar- 
ket, almost a whole new class, ишпей 
Superstar into а celebration 

The same valley, a different sunset: 
“We could have been vulgar,” Jewi- 
son. “We could have played this for 
cheap. Nothin 
хоско at the box office. We could have 
been really filthy. But we weren't." 

Right ou сиг, the chorus took up 
the refrain. 

“We could have been 
ant director 

“But we weren't,” said the unit pub. 
licist. 

“For instance," Jewison continued, 
“we could have had Mary going down on 
Jesus. right there on the cross. Can you 
imagine that? And half the apostles are 
ght, and what about Jesus and 
s? | mean, would you just look at 
those guys? A big wet smackeroo, right on 
the lips? How about that? Oh, yeah,” and 
here he went hushed, “we could have 
been vulgar, all right. We could have 
milked it for every grab in the book." 
ensationalism," said the unit pub- 


g riskiness their 


simpler. Guaranteed. 


said the assist 


licis 

"Cheap thrills,” said the production 
supervisor 

“But we didn't,” said Jewivon firmly. 
“Instead, we decided to make it beautiful 
We came here to the Holy Land and we 


The fishing is best 


when its early, 


201 


PLAYBOY 


202 


played it straight, we gave it faith, We 
made it into a spiritual experience and 
autiful, and Jesus is beautiful, the 
fui, its going to be a 
beautiful film. People are going to sce it 
and neighborhood nowhere 
nd they're going to be moved by 
it. Peaple who were never moved by this 
story before. People who always thought 
that Jesus Christ was some kind of 
schmuck. They're going to sce something 
beautiful and they're going to cry. They 
won't be able to help themselves. 

There was an awestruck silence. The 
last of the sunlight disappeared behind 
the mountaintops. Everyone gazed into 
the darkening valley. “When you really 
come to think of it 1 Jewison, in 
а sudden flash of selLmockery, “we're 
doing hima 


Possibly he did not fully understand 
At any rate, hallway through the 
fixion, quite without 
warning, there came an apocalyptic thun- 
derstorm. Jesus bled and twisted in his 


“Well, there ain't no fish around here . . . so blow." 


gony, lightning flashed, the rain beat 
down torrentially, the music swelled, the 
very heavens trembled. And then, inevita- 
bly, everyone began to cry. Jewison and 
the apostles, of course: then the secretar- 
jes, the stand-ins, the caterers, the la 
attendants, the money men and the Arab 
peasants watch far. Only Jesus 
hi ‚ as the ele- 


ments s ploded about his 
head. Afterward, some of the spectators 
said they ng. 

s soon as 


Jesus was brought down from the cross 
nd had gone home to tea, the storm 
suddenly died down and everything was 
cilm i 


That was the climax. The anticlimax 
ame one hot morning, while they were 
setting up the Last Supper. Growing 
bored, 1 began to climb up a goat track, 
rocky and precipitous, and headed for a 
tiny Arab village or top- 

My hands were scraped and tom. T 


^ 


sweated like a hog and once I was almost 
swept away by a minor avalanche. Still 1 
persevered and, at the end of an hour, I 
stood at the summit. 

In the village street, there were per- 
haps a dozen bronze tables, set in open 
doorways, and around them sat the elders, 
complete with robes and headdresses, 
pulling peaceably on their hash pipes. 
They didn't look at me and they did not 
speak. Every now and then, one of them 
would slowly keel over and topple into 
the dust. Alter a pause he would be 
picked up and dusted off. 

1 got a contact high from the fume 
alone and sat down in the shade to steady 
myself, Forty or fifty children clustered 
around me, laughing and pointing, and 
ripe figs hung thickly above my head. 
So 1 ate myself sick and played with the 
d soon I grew sentimental. 

Gazing out across the valley, in great 
stoned solemnity, 1 thought about time- 
lessness ance. Then I turned my 


ii 


face. “How about you? 
Iw ken indoors. A young giil 
brought me olives and iced Coca-Cola. 
‘There was a TV in the corner and the 
man from Orlando couldn't stop laugh- 
ing, Ten years before, he said, he'd won a 
trip to Florida in a competition. Once 
there, he got a job in plastic, bought 
home. started a family, changed his 
name. Now he was home on a thice- 
week vacatio 
He was very inquisitive. He asked me 
1 were married, and did 1 like the Miami 
Dolphins, and who was the greatest man 
in the world? Where had I bought my 
shirt? What did I think of Raquel Welch's 
thighs? What, above all. were all those 
people doing down below, milling 
in the valley and shouting? 
І answered as best T could, curled up 
у d the young girl took 
out her dentures, t0 show me how they 
worked. The man from Orlando, for 
the most part, seemed satisfied by my 
responses and we got along just fine. 
But the 


bout 


Not casy to convey. A 
attempted to explai 
transe 
his full 
sesed you 
moment, godl 
Christ, Supers 
For a moment he still looked uncer- 
Then his face eared, light flooded 
he jumped to his feet 
g me a second Coke, he ga 
sweetest, most radiant smile. 


superstar, 1 
was a who 
ince. When you felt 
took you over, pos- 
solely: became, for the 


| “Jesus 


the 
“Like Perry Como,” he said. 


me 


Grossing Un th nme (continued from quee 98) 


ts to sail on a computerized shi 
icc English couple, around 3o. 
d saved a long time for their 


А 
said the 
round wip, and loved сусту minute of 


it. "No one forgets the first crossing, 
the wife s hey had only 36 hours in 
New York, just cnough time for a walk 
on Fifth Avenu 
Metropolitan and the 
Oyster Bar in С 
dinner at the Rainbow Room, “to get 
touch of New York. But the best thing 
couples who sha 
groom table, on the way 10 ? 
York. "They took. us for lunch thei 

vited us into the d bought 


presens lor our ki 1 
almost cried.” 
А sucessful trans, crossing 


y a study in 
The goodbye parties in New 
АНЕ ШЕЙ ч many as 2000 
visitors, each pay 


aboa ard 


e are the sports 
games of the belle 
cépoque—shutlleboard, clay-pi 

ing, horse races, French lessons, bridge 
games—but also up-to-date lectures on 
high finance on the high seas, by а Wall 
Street broker. Always, of course, the most 
popular pastime is watching the other 
people; aboard ship everybody becomes a 


women watch each other's 
ing ANS and jewelry. The men 
ich other men: Some are quite dress- 
conscious, bringing along three d 
jackets for the three formal nights in first 
class. And everybody watches what goes 
on between men and women. 

"Tourist people travel for different 
reasons. Some want to get a touch of 
French life before getting to France. 
ents with small children feel more re- 
laxed below. So do quite a few people 
who could easily alford first class but 
“don't like to dress." But they have thei 
litle social problems, too. The tourist- 
class purser has his own VIP list 
people expect to be invited by hi 
are alw ; resting fh 
for, the pic life in Europe. 
Westbound, there often emigrants 
—French, Germ: Swiss—who take the 
boat because they have much baggage 
and want a little time to get ready 
for the Big Advent 
waste of money to go first- 
ипе. There is no value for the 
nd who to be surround- 
ed mostly by е tocrats? 
But on a big liner it's worth it to travel 
ass for the action and the luxury 
this case, the full benefits of the 
traditional French Line service, 


The best 


stewards, ers barmen and many 
other employees are promoted from tour- 
ist to first, where the tips are larger. 

If you are lucky with your first-class- 
cabin steward, he will anticipate your 
wishes before they are uutered. He may 
not be as formal as the English butlers 
they used to have on the Queen Mary 
(Where Is She Now?) nor as amu: 
the part-time tenors on the Itali: 
bui he's always around, though often in- 
visible. You forgot to tell him to have 
your pants pressed. When you come back 
to the stateroom, they are hanging there, 
pressed. Some fancy people, reluctant to 
mix with the misera plebs in the d 
ing room, have nearly all meals in their 
stateroom, 

Ships are basically undemoc 
class system is a relic of the feu 
The 500 firstclass passengers on 
France have proportionately more floor 
and deck space than the 1500 tourist-class 
people. The fust-class Chambord dining 
room seats 450. On most cruises, when the 
France becomes a first-dassonly ship, to 
be seated in the Chambord becomes а cov- 
eted status symbol, дере on the 
price of the stateroom. The minimum 
fare for the 1974 round-the-world cruise is 
$5770, but it costs almost twice as much to 
be seated in the Chambord. Yet the ex- 
pensive staterooms are always sold out 
fast. Apparently no one wants to be 


HEY, THIS IS GREAT... A NICE CHANGE 


AND THEYRE LESS 
THAN THE PRICE 
OF CIGARETTES 
IN MOST 


ў WHATS THAT YOURE SMOKING ? 


ITS А DERINGER. 
TRY ONE 


=ош 


ITHINK ILL START. 
PACKING DÉRINGERS 


DERINGER.. LITTLE CIGARS... 
DO THEY TASTE STRONG ? 


NO, THEYRE REALLY 
SMOOTH AND LIGHT. 


Smoking 
pleasure 
Atalow 
Лом price! 


banished to the Versailles dining room, 
though the food is the same, the lights 

юге flattering and there is more space. 
Yet many consider it а sort of Siberia; 
they seem allergic to the second-class 
atmosphere hanging in the air, though 


on cruises the commandant goes there for 
the gala dinne 

On regular crossings, tourist.class food 
is almost as good as in first —less choice. 
to be sure, with some difference in prime 
beef and poultry. but the menu still sur- 
asses those of many famous restaurants 


PLAYBOY 


in France. However: Only in first class 
can you order anything any time, at no 
cost, which remains a great ship- 


rd attraction. (You pay only for 
tks and special wines) Many French 
Line regulars who couldn't care less 
about status go first-class for that reason. 
1 know some people who make up the dif- 
ference in price by subsisting entirely om 

iar and vodka. Its a nice fantasy for a 
few days. H you get bored with the blasé 
rich people in first, you can always join 
the swinging crowd in the tomist-class 
discothèque. sometimes uutil five in the 
morning. They call it Left Bank, not 
tourist class. Vive la différence! 


Eatin 
physical 


is the second most important 
d the France. per 
haps the only important one lor sc 
people. Gastronomic experts have wr 
ten ecstatic reports on the ship's cuisine, 
calling the France “one of the world's 
greatest restaurants.” At its best that ma 
be true, but Henri Le Huéde, the modest, 
soltspoken chef de cuisine, leels his 
restaurant should not be compared to 
nch 
Mad gnificent Py 
Vieme rarely serves more than 60 people. 
At the Tour d'Argent in Paris they may 
serve 150, On the France they often feat 
2000 passengers three times a day, as well 
as 1100 crew members. Everything is out 
of proportion. M. Le Hucde rules over a 
kitchen empire of 5000 square feet, and 
180 sous-chefs, potagiers, poissoniers, 


grilladiers, sauciers, pritissiers, tournants 
the 


(Hoaters), and others—inclnding 
plongeurs (dishwashers), whom he 
specis. deservedly so. 
His problem is to produce quality 
spite of quantity, and oc 
He makes it a point of culi 
honor never to serve the sume dish twice, 
even on a 9Lday world cruise, Once in a 
while, M. Le Huédé tries to do what no 
other chef has done before. On our recent 
tip, he put cailles (quails) Souvarolf, a 
very complicated grande cuisine dish, on 
the manu 
soter would have done it, for 
thirty or forty people," he said. "I took a 
chance, We served almost five hundred. 
But I don't think we'll do it li was 
a tour de force, too risky." 
Well-known French chefs h 
completely lost on the Franc 
204 Cope with the problems of m 


€ been 
nable to 


tronomy. How can you turn out 3000 
nb chops in less than an hour? When 
steak au poivre is on the menu, the grilla- 
diers may receive 800 orders within 40 
minutes, ranging from saignant to very 
well done. M. Le Huédé invented a code 
ter cress and pommes 
the waiters distinguish 
among medium, @ point aud medium 
rare, so that everybody gets the steak 
tly as he ordered it, 

Го complicate matters, M. 
must have French Nantes duck and Long 
pd duckling; both American beel, 

ier but less tasty, and French steak, 
Havor but closer grained. 
“Americans don't like to chew hard.” 
grill cook says. "They would like every- 
thing mashed, even their steak" The 
euch at least try everything once. They 
justly love calls liver. kidneys and sweet- 
breads, all of which most Americans dis 


Le Huédé 


eid s more 


- They like to have their big meal at 
ime. The Americans like theirs at 
т. pos fter three cocktails, 


which dulls their palate and demands 
more seasoning. M. Le Huédé has other 
problems the Таке Fernand Point never 
dreamed about. He d out to 
the market for more oysters or partridges 
when he hasn't enough 
may wreck his carefully made plans. He 
orders his cooks to prepare several hun 
dred fonds dartichauts farcis when he 
puts them on Ше days menu—his first 
command is “The menu must be hon- 
ored and may tind himsell stuck with 
hundreds of artichokes and other highly 
5. He never knows. Tow 
ve for Junch or 
must always be ready, but 
in da grande cuisine nothing must he 
finished in advance and every dish should 
lave t special taste of having be 
made to order. Every morning he desi 
four different: menus (fustclass, тош 
office м). and there are spec 
menus for children and even for dogs, I'm 
sorry to report. His job is mostly logis 
strategy and intuition, though he always 
makes the rounds of all the stations in 
the kitchen shortly before the service, tast- 
ing the soups. sauces. vegetables, every- 
thing, while there is still time to correct 
mistake: 

The only other operation 1 can think 
of in this respect was the U. S. Army Quar 
in World War Two, On 
[ternoon in 1944, they 


White meat only, as T 
ed, though I was only a 
tech /sgt, momentarily stuck in an icy [ox- 
hole near Luxembourg. just 100 yards 
from the Germans over there in the 
Siegfried 1 was still w 
on delivery and the stuffing was fine. 
On a somewhat different scale, M. Le 
Huedé also provides m eina 
while. The boeuf bourguignon, the “re- 
gional” dish on the мей more 
Burgundian than any I'd an- 


dy. The blanquette de veau à l'ancienne. 
an old-fashioned veal fricassee like Mom 
used to make it, was “just like home 
though we were a long way from home. 
Once they made one of M. Le Huéde's 
great specialties for us, gourmandines de 
vean au gratin—thin veal scal lops, very 
quickly sautéed. stuffed with minced 
mushrooms, rolled in thin crepes, covered 
with a light sauce Mornay, sprinkled with 
gruyère, finished under the salamander 
It took the clockwork cooperation of four 
sous-chefs. Опе cooks the veal scallops, 
the second makes the crepes, the third the 
stufling and the sauce and the fourth 
puts it all together—all this in the middle 
of the service while some 500 other first 
dass passengers are waiting Гог their or- 
ders. All things considered, 1 would 
that the France is a very great restaurant. 

Provided. you're going 10 cooper 
Ordering well from the enormous menu 
is a lot of fun but also hard work. What's 
the sense of shell 
һ avin steak 


nomic experience, Ask your 


is fine and fresh, Oysters 

wild strawberries must be 
served within two di New 
York, order fresh. Americ and 
not a Dover sole that has been sleeping 


on ice for a week, Alter leavi 
or Southampton, order sole or turbot, 
preferably grilled or poached, that hasn't 
seen the inside of a cold chamber. 

The май will respect you for ordering 
complicated. creations if they know th: 
you know what you want. On a recent 
trip they did not respect а self-appointed 
gourmet from New Vork who ordered 
La Toque du President Adolphe Clere 
about which he'd read somewhere. It is 
one of the dirce most famous putes of la 
grande cuisine, listed in Lucien Tendrer's 
dassic La Table au Pays de Brillat-Sava- 
rin. I had it once in my life, at Alexand: 
Dumaine’s in Saulieu, the greatest. chel 
alter the death of his friend M. Point. 
The incredible recipe calls for a whole 
hare, woodcock, partridge. lots of black 
wuilles and other incredible things. It 
took Dumaine four days to make i 
yet the “gourmet” sent word to M. Le 
Huédé thar it was “really quite simple. 
From then on, he was ignored. 
here are fortunate people who never 
weight, no matter what they cat. For 
ithly ver 
n of paradise: breakfast, bouillon at 11 
on deck, Lunch, tea at four, dinner and an 
carly morning supper at the Cabaret de 
Ada 


jue. with smoked salmon, foic 
gras, onion soup, Welsh rarcbit and le hot 


dog. Most other people, thou 
ration their pleasures if they want to be 
ble to cat after the third day. Breakfast 
alone is a major temptation, with 16 eg 
dishes and omelets, grilled ham, a 
steak—and, and, and, Best are the deli- 
cious petits pains, 5000 of them freshly 


gh, have to 


My card seems to be filled, Your Majesty—but maybe just a quickie.” 


205 


PLAYBOY 


206 


“Ever since 1 put "p the sign, Гое had 
lots of women’s lib business.” 


baked three times а d 
top of cach is made with a razor, by hand. 
For the gala. the cold-bullet men make 
ice castles for the caviar. The pdtissiers 
create beautiful pièces montées out of enl. 
огей sugar bands, edible sculptural mas- 
terpieces. T asked one of them why the: 
spend hours on them though they ki 
that many passengers believe they are 
made of plastics. 


y: the incision о 


ow 


he said. 
e that 


“They made 
sixty years ago.” 


ford it. 
Tradition makes the dining: 


pom serv- 
the best in the 
ding to people who are 
s completely happy with the cui 
es de, captains and wait- 
rs love their métier; they don't want to 
be vice presidents but the very best maî 
tres de, captains and waiters, They cave: 
they want to make cach meal a mem 
orable experience. Our captain was Pierre 
Nallrechoux, whose father, the great 
Olivier Nalfrechoux, is remembered by 
generations of ans as the 
" 

^ hauteur whom they called 
(he now lives in retire- 
ux), Naflrechoux even 
intimidated his bosses, the captains and 
pursers. He knew that Providence was on 
ide; he had a ship go down under him 
in each of the two world wars. On the Пе 
de France and Normandie he would even 
make the hated first sitting attractive 
when he ran out of tables for the second 
х by telling the passengers that Mar- 
shal Foch or Marshal Jolfre alwa 
sisted on the first siting. "I hope the 


ice at the Chambord 
world, even асс 
not alwa 


nc. The m: 


marshals will forgive me when 1 meet 
them in heaven," he once told me in a 
moment of humility, An hour prior to the 
captain's dinner he would put on his gala 
uniform and make 
that even the most informal-minded pas- 
sengers got the message and went down to 
dress for the occasion. Then Monsei 
went to have his favorite suppe 
caviar, а ba 
pagne. Monseigneur had cl 
Now there was fine cooperation be- 
tween Pierre Nalfrechoux and our two 
ers. Andre, the commis, would br 
the dishes from the kitchen, often w 
near the range for something that had to 
be served immediately. Albert, the gar- 
con, would serve in great style. Even the 
lue Henri Soulé, master of impeccable 
service, would have liked it. The wine 
waiters, too. ‘They 
are not responsible Ie small wine 
glasses that no one like h the fine 
Chateau Cheval-Blanc. 1967 our somm 
lier brought the proper glasses. The wi 
list was well composed. ‘The ship's motion 
occasionally makes the delicate Margaux 
seasick and madeiraizes the saut 
The most expensive red Bordeaux. we 
SIR, while the champagnes—67 different 
vintners—ran from 59 for a Lepitre Cré- 
jane de Blancs to 513 for a Dom 
You don't have to spend money 
та wines, though. The complimen 
y red and white table wines are good 
nid honest. 


тонк of the ship so 


wat 


The is now II years old, read 
ing middle age as luxury liners go. She is 
the third ship bearing the illustrious 
name. The earliest F dipp: 


rigged four er with a speed of 13 
Knots, was launched in 1865 by the Com- 
pag tantique, found- 
ed ten years before. The second France, 
vintage 1019. was a lovely four-funnel 
with a 17th Century wood-paneled 
smoking room, a Regency dining room, a 
XIV lounge and beautiful tap- 
s. 1 tried to join the orchestra but 
le it. Her speed was already 95 
ix days from Le Havre to 7 
York, much too fast for m. 
ated people aboard. 

No one claims that the present France, 
with a service speed of 30 knots, is ou 
standing for her interior decorations, 
which remind some people of Very Late 
Hilton. There are some interesting paint- 
ings, by Segonzac and Chapelain Midy, 
and modern tapestries by Picart Le Doux, 
Hilaire, Idoux ud. The France 
has an elegant silltouctte and “maneuvers 
as easily as a Ferrari," according to a for- 
mer comm nt, but when they deco- 
rated the interiors, they were told to think 
of st. Some great French Line 
ships burned down: the Paris, the 
die, the Antilles. On the France, а 
terials, сиңа ıd carpets аге non- 
inflammable. So much for the oxidized 
aluminum panels that you may or may 
not like. 

The France can be chartered for about 
580,000 а day, which includes the crew, 
cruise. directors, nightclub entertainers, 
all the caviar you сап cat and atmos 
phere Transat. The Michelin people 
twice held their sales conventions on 
Cruises t0 the West Indies. While the 
men had th gs the wives were 
ertained at fashion shows, make-up 
nnd cooking lessons. Everybody was said 
to be happy. 


Almost everybody seemed happy 
Riviera Ва 
in Europe. The faces were more relaxed 
and the voices louder than at an 
fore. A man at the bar 


it's all over now that the party is going so 
well,” and a woman said, “Yes, it should 
st longer. Five days is not enough. 


oodnes, T feel we just met." 
they'd done it a, 


Clearly, 
tin: L'atinosphére Tran- 


sat was in the air Only a few people 
seemed pensive, almost absent-minded 
Perhaps they were already thinking of to- 


wrrow—the duties, 
responsi 

At the Fontiinbleaw lounge, 
were dancing. 1 stood near 
and watched the m 


the schedules, the 


ies. 
people 
orchestra 
sicians. They smiled 
at me and began playing / Can't. Give 
You Anything but Love, Baby, 
we'd loved to play in the gay Twenties. 1 
thanked them and walked out on the pr 
tected deck. А thin, salty spray was com- 
ing through an open window. The ocean. 
dark and magnificent and eter 
the same as ever. The fantasy was 
It was nice while it lasted. 


most 


THE WAGER (continued from page 130) 


museum paid when you bought it was, as 
I recall, not much more than the twenty 
thousand dollars you are willing to—ah 
—wager to get it into this country. And 
that value could only be realized at а le- 
gitimate sale, which would be difficult, it 
seems to me, under the circumstances," 

Duvivier's smile had been slowly disap- 

ing as I spoke. Now he was looking at 
me in disappointment. 

"You do not understand, M’si " he 
said. and there was a genuine touch of 
sadness in his voice at my incogitancy. 
“To you, especially after your losses to- 
night, 1 am sure the sum of twenty thou- 
sand dollars seems a fortune, but. in all 
honesty, to me it is not. I am not inter- 
ested in the monetary value of the carv- 
ing; 1 have no intention of selling it. I 
simply wish to own it.” He looked at me 
withan expression I have seen many times 
before—the look of a fanatic, a zealot. 
A Collector, with a capi 
mot possibly comprehend,” he re- 
peated, shaking his head. "It is such an 
incredibly lovely thing. 

Well, of course, he was quite wrong 
about my understanding, or lack of it; I 
understood perfectly. For a moment, I al- 
most found myseli liking the man; but 
only for a moment. And a wager is а 
nd T had to admit 1 had never 
been offered such attractive odds before 
in my life. As for the means of getting the 
carving into the United States, especially 
from Barbados, [ had a thought on that. 
100. I was examining my idea in greater 
when his voice broke in on me. 
Well?” he asked, a bit impatiently. 
fou have just made yourself a bet," I 
id. "But it will require a little time.” 
"How much time?" Now that I was 
committed, the false friendliness was 
gone from both voice and visage; for all 
practical purposes, I was now merely 
an employee. 

I thought а moment. “It’s hard to say. 
It depends," 1 said at last. "Less than two: 
months but probably more than one. 

He {rowned. "Why so long?" 1 merely 
shrugged and reached for my glass. "All 
right.” he said grudgingly. “And how do 
you plan on getting it through Customs?" 
My response to this was to smile at him 
gently, so he gave up. "I shall give you a 
card to my friend in Barbados, which will 
lease the carving into your care. After 
that"—he smiled again, but this time it 
was a bit wollish for my liking—"our. 
wager will be in effect. We will тесе at 
my apartment in New York.” 

He gave me his address, together with 
telephone number, and then handed 
second card with a scrawl on it to a 
ne in Barbados, and that was that. We 


1 
me 


drank up, shook hands and I left the 
pleased to be working again and equally 
pleased to be quitted of Duvivier, if only 
for a while. 


Huuygens paused and looked at me 
with his satanic eyebrows tilted sharply. 


J recognized the expression and made a 
circular gesture over our glasses, which 
was instantly interpreted by our waiter. 
Kek waited until we were served, thanked 
me gravely and drank. I settled back to 
listen, sipping. When next Huuygens 
spoke, however, I thought at first he » 
changing the subject, but 1 soon learned 
this was not the case. 


Anyone who says the day of travel by 
ship has passed (Hunygens went on) 
never made an examination of the bro. 
chures for Caribbean cruises that fill and 
overflow the racks of travel agencies. It 
appears that between sailings from New 
York and sa 


ngs from Port Everglades 
—not to mention Miam imore, Nor- 
folk and others—almost everything afloat 


must be pressed into service to transport 
those Americans with credit cards and a 
litde free time to the balmy breezes and 
shimmering sands of the islands. They 
have tips for all seasons, as well as for 
every taste and pocketbook. There are 
bridge cruises to St. Lucia, canasta cruises 
to Trinidad, golf cruises to St. Croi: 
There are seven-day cruises to the Baha 
mas, eight-day cruises to Jam: 
cruises to Martinique; there 
was not surprised to see—three 
to nowhere. And it struck me t| 
though it was approachi 
cruise would be ai 
had been onc of my principal reasons for 
‘equiring so much time to consummate 
the deal. 

So 1 went to the travel agency in the 
hotel lobby and was instantly inundated 
with schedules and pamphlets. 1 managed 
to get the reams of propaganda to my 
room without a bellboy, sat down on the 
bed and carefully made ту selection. 
When I had my trip laid out to my satis- 
faction, I descended once again to the 
hotel lobby and presented my program to 
the wavel agent there. He must have 


thought I was insane, but I explained I 
suffered {rom Widget Syndrome and re- 
quired a lot of salt air, after which he 
shrugged and picked up the phone to 
confirm my reservations through New 
York. They readily accepted my credit 
d for the bill—which I sincerely hoped 
to be able to honor by the time it was pre 
sented—and later, I1 found 
myself in Miami, boarding the M. V. 
Andropolis for a joyous 16-day cruise. It 
was longer t ight have chosen, but 
it was the only one that fit my schedule 
and I felt that 1 had—or would, shortly 
вага the rest. 

J might as well tell you right now that 
it was a delightful trip. 1 should have pre 
ferred to have taken along my own femi. 
nine companionship, but my finances 
would not permit it; there ter all, 
such hard-cash outlays as bar bills and 
tips. However, there was no lack of unat- 
ched women aboard. some even pi 
semble, and the days—as they хау 
ly flew. We had the required. rum 
h in Ocho Rios, fought off the 
rPrince, visited Blue- 
nd 


PLAYBOY 


pur 
beggars in Pon 
beard's Castle in Charlone Amalie 


eventually made it to Barbados. 
Barl: a lovely i 


and cross between the Caribbean and At- 


ic shores through high stands of su 
cane that quite efficiently hide any view 
of approaching traffic; but my rented car 
and I managed to get to the address I had 
been given without brushing dcath more 
1 three or four times. The man to 
whom I presented the ex-president's card 
was not in the least perturbed to be gi 
ing up the carving: il any 
seemed relieved to be rid of iis responsi- 
bility. It was neatly packaged in straw, 
wrapped in brown paper and tied with 
twine, and 1 left it exactly that way as 
1 drove back to the dock through the 
friendly islanders, all of whom demon- 
strated their happy, carefree i 
by walking in the middle of the 

There was no problem about carry 
ing the package aboard. Other passenge 
from the M. V. Andropolis were forming 
а constant. line, like ants, to and from 
the ship. leaving empty-handed to ret 
burdened with Wedgwood, Hummel fig- 
ures. camera. lenses and weirdly woven 
straw hats that did not fit. I gave up my 
boarding pass at the gangplank, climbed 
to my proper deck and locked myself in 


my stateroom, interested in seeing this 
carving upon which M'sieu Antoine Du- 
vivier wa ag to wager the princely 


of 20,000 United States dollars. 
The paper came away easily enough. 


cased the delicate carving from its bed of 
straw and took it to the light of my desk 


Tamp. At first I was so interested in study- 
ing the picce for its authenticity that the 
truc beauty of the carving didit strike me; 
but when 1 finally came to concede that 1 
208 was, indeed, holding a genuine Tien Tse 


Huwai in my hands and got down to 
looking at the piece itself, 1 had to admit 
that M'sieu Duvivier, whatever his other 
failings, was a man of excellent taste. 1 
relished the delicate nuances with which 
Tien had managed his inricate subject, 
the warmth he had been able to impart 10 
his cold medium, the humor he had been 
genius enough to instill in the ivory 
scene. Each figure in the relaxed yet rit 
alistic village dance had his own posture, 
d although there were easily 10 or 50 
and women involved, carved with in- 
on a plaque no larger than 
six by eight inches and possibly three 
inches in thickness, there was no sense of 
crowding. One could allow himself to be 
drawn into the carving. to almost it 
movement. or hear the flutes. 1 er 
the study of the masterpiece for 
few 
1 and tucked it 
duct of my stat 


ito the a 
oom, pleased th 
first portion id been 
completed with such ease. I replaced the 
grillwork and wı rs to the bar, 


ids, since Barbados had been 


mering s; 


our final por 
The wip back to Mia y 
but uneventful. I lost in the shuffleboard 


tour ely due to a nearsighted 
partner, but in compensation I picked up 
a record number of spoons from the bot- 
tom ol the swimming pool and received 
1 reward, at the captain's party, a crystal 
ashtray eng 
ither coming up or going dow 

ime. What I am irying 10 say 
that, all in all, 1 enjoyed myself com- 
pletely and the trip was almost compen- 
sation for the thorough—and humiliating 
ch I had to suffer when I finally 
through Customs in M 
did everything. but 


went 
usual, they 
grate my ue ge, amd псу handled my 


te- 


I norm 


person in 
only from young ladies. But at 
was free of Customs—to their obvious 
chagrin—and I found myself in the street 
a one piece. So T took myself 
Juggage to a hotel for the night. 

And the next morning I reboarded the 
M. V. Andropolis for its nest trip—in the 
same cabina restful threeday cruise to 
nowhere. . 


Huuygens smiled at me gently. My ex- 
pression must have caused the waiter con- 


cerm—he probably thought 1 had Jel my 
wallet at home—for he hurried over. To 
save myself e assment, I ordered 


other round and then went back to 
ing at Huuygens. 


ат 


I see (Kek went on. his eyes twinklin 


that intelligence has finally forced its 
presence upon you. I should have 
thought it was rather obv These 


ibbean cruise ships vary their schedules, 


mixing trips to t h these short 
cruises to nowhere, where they merel 
wander aimlessly upon the sca and ever 
tually find their way back—some say with 
considerable luck—to their home port. 
Since they touch no foreign shore, and 
since even the ships’ shops are closed dur 
ing these cruises, one is not faced with the 
delay or embarrassment of facing а Cus- 
toms agent upon on . Therefore, 
if one were to take a cruise preceding 
а cruise to nowhere and were to be 
so careless as to inadvertently leave а 
small object—in the air-conditioning duct 
of for example—during 


Which. of course, is what I did... 

ght to New York was slightly an 
ticlimactic. and J called М 
soon as 1 la 
most pleasantly surprised, since Jess th: 
month had actually elapsed, and said he 
fast as I could get 


would expect me 
there by cab. 


The ex-president of St. Michel lived in 
a lovely apartment on Central Park 
South, and as 1 rode up in the elevator, 1 
ht of how pleasant it must be to 
have endless amounts of money at one's 
disposal; but before I had a chance to 
dwell on that thought too much, we had 
arrived and J found myself pushing what 

i loorbell set 
. Jt made one want 
x himself 
шее таа их ида пу man 
І have ever seen. He didn't even wait 
to ask me in or inquire as to my taste 
in aperitils. 

You have 
coat pocket. 

“Belore we go any further,” I said, 
“I should like you to repeat the exact 
terms of our wager. The exact terms, 
you please.” 

He looked at me in irritation, as if T 
were being needlessly obstructive. 

АШ right," he said shortly. “I wagered 
you twenty thousand dollars of my money 
against (wo dollars of yours that you 
would not bring me a small carving from 
Barbados through United States Customs 
and deliver it to me in New York. Is 
that correct?” 

“Perfectly correct," I said and 
reached into my pocket. "You are а lucky 
man. You won." And I handed him his 
two dollars. 


to we 


he asked, staring at my 


1 sighed. 


I'm afraid my jaw had gone slack. He 
shook his head at me, a bit sad at my lack 
of comprehen 
You can't possibly underst 
said. almost petulantly. “It 
credibly lovely. 


ion. 


How ine English 
keep oy. 


" Gordon's Gin. Largest seller in England, America,the world. 


PRODUCT OF U.S.A. 100% NEUTRAL SPIRITS DISTILLED FROM GRAIN. 90 PROOF. GORDON'S DRY GIN CO., LTD., LINDEN, N. J. 


PLAYBOY FORUM 


claimed), then so be it. The media are in 
position to censor the truth, and by so 
ing represent those who would prefer 
uth remain hidden. But while 
е here, we will do all in our power 
to prevent such censorship. 

Wayne Karlin 

Basil Paquet 

Larry Roumann 

1st Casualty Press 

Coventry, Connecticut 
A review oj “Free Fire Zone.” pub- 
lished by Ist Casualty Press, appears on 
page 20. 


PLAYBOY 


GANG BUSTERS. 

Chicago's world-famous police depart- 
ment includes a tactical unit, described 
by the department as devoted to fighting 
serious а How do these intrepid 
ing busters go about protecting the cit- 
izenry? They caught a woman driving 
through the business district in a car 
with a peace decal on the back—one 
of those popular designs seen all over the 
country—showing the trident peace sym- 
bol on а field of stars and stripes. They 
immediately placed her under 
says that their leader was “red-faced with 
anger.” She was charged with flag desecra- 
tion, brought to trial before Judge Mau- 
rice W. Lee, found guilty and fined S100, 

Columnist Mike Royko commented on 
the decal, “If it is desecration, it isn’t as 
we as, say, when Dean Mar- 
гъ gogo dancers come out in skimpy 

nd-stripes costumes. Or when the 
Republi ates wore stus and 
stripes straw hats or lapel buttons show- 
ing an elephant with stars and stripes on 
its trunk. 

1 spend 
the 


extreme а 


lot of time worrying about 
med robberies and sensc- 
cago of late. A few 
that the police are actually 
gle with some of the crim- 
our streets, 
is is perhaps а harsh view. The 
Chicago cops can't catch up with the local 
murderers, thugs and rapists because 
they're too busy protecting us against 
ladies with peace symbols on their cars 

Janet Hermosa 

Chicago, Illinois 


CONJUGALRIGHTS SUIT 
I'm presently engaged in litigation in 
Wisconsin to establish my legal right to 
have sexual intercourse with my wile, my 
imprisonment notwithstanding. The basis 
of the suit arises [rom the fact that my 
wile, Judy, a co-plaintiff, is being denied 
her sexual rights when she has done noth- 
ing wrong other than to marry а person 
who ended up in prison. We contend that 
married couples have equal sexual rights, 
nd that by denying Judy the right to 
have sexual relations with me, they are 

210 denying her the right to have sex rela- 


(continued jrom page 55) 


all—since in Wisconsin, adul 
re 


tions at 
tery, fornication and homosexual acts a 
all illegal. We're filing under the civil 
rights acts and are using Griswold vs. 
Connecticut, the birth-control case, as 
а precedent establishing that marital re- 
lations are a fundamental right that 
prison officials may not infringe upon 
е showing a compelling 
conjugal visitation has 
ted as practical in Mis- 
ia and 28 foreign coun- 
tries, we doubt that Wisconsin can show 
ny reason why it can't be permitted 
here. 


without the s 
Since 


been d 


Donald Lee Nusherger 
Waupun, Wisconsi 


‘CARELESS PARENTS 

I've undergone a "wholesale cortuy 
of morals," as the Maryland organization 
called Parents Who Care described sex 
education (Forum. Newsfront. February) 
This amti-sex-education group fails to 
ize that young people are fully aware 
at sexuality exists. Perhaps sex educa- 
оп will cause some young people to try 
sex prematurely: however, many do any- 
way. To be responsible, they should fully 
understand what they are doing. To de- 
prive children of this knowledge is not 
to care for them; it is to do them a ter- 
rible injustice. 


ames E. Olson 
Seale, Washington 


AIR JOES 
Can oral sex performed on a woman 
kill the woman? Dr. James Dunne, direc 
tor of m 
Virginia Si tment 
apparently thinks so. In an 
Press story, Dunne said that a 
Virginia woman died from 
holism, a bubble in her circul 
tem. The story continues 


ternal health services of the 
аге De] 


of Health. 
Associated 
Northern 


огу Sys- 


The air apparently м 


as introduced 
into the woman's vagi i 


‚ Dunne said, 
play” known 


ascumnilingus, or oral sex performed 
by a man on a woman. 
“This is a serious matter," said 


Dunne. “My understanding is that 
this is becoming а widespr 
tice among young people.” 

Dunne said death from air embo- 
isms will increase if the practice con- 
tinues to grow, A woman can be alive 
and well, "then bingo—the patient is 


Vir- 


" women ii 
реп пу as 14, may 
have died as a result of the practice 
during the past few years, he said. 


My wife and I have enjoyed oral sex 
without incident, and neither of us was 
ware of any connection between the fe 


male sex organs and circulatory system 
So, is Dr. Dunne right, or is the whole 
story ап attempt to scare people into giv- 
ing up a practice that some still consider 
perverted? 


(Name withheld by request) 
ni, Florida 

We don't know if the Virginia health 
department is morally opposed to oral- 
genital loveplay; we do know that air 
embolisms oj this kind can occur only if 
air is actually blown into the vagina un 
der certain circumstances (Jor example, 
pregnancy—placental tissue can transmit 
air into the blood stream). While the prac- 
lice isn't safe (a woman may be unknow. 
ingly pregnant), it also is not what's 
commonly known «s cunnilingus. 


CONTRACEPTIVE COMIC BOOK 

‘The birth rate is going down in every 
age group except in America's teen popu- 
tion. One study indicates that 2,100,000 
unwed girls between the ages of 15 and 19 
are currently having sexual relations, and 
а great number of them use no birth con- 
trol. Teenage mothers bear many more 
deformed and mentally retarded children 
than do older mothers and they also have 
more babies who die suddenly during 
their first year of life. 

To help prevent the problems posed by 
these situations, the Institute for 
Research and Education has developed. 
an offbeat educational comic book, di- 
rected at teenager led Protect Your- 
self from Becoming an Unwanted Parent. 
nt, the book 
bright informa- 
tion about pregnancy and birth control, 
as well as some outrageous gags. The 
basic reason for the comic-book approach 
is that kids enjoy reading comic books. И 
we are truly interested in helping youth 
and believe we have some id things to 
say, then we must approach them in а way 
that they will бий interesting. Giving 
youngsters information on birth control 
is not the same as giving them permissi 
to have sex, But simply saying 
doesn't stop teenager 

Anyone interested in obtai 
Yourself from Becoming an Unwanted 
Parent should send ach copy 
to the Institute for Family Research and 
Education, 760 Ostrom Avenue, Syracuse, 
New York 15. 


Sol Gordon, Ph.D. 
Syracuse University 
Syracuse, New Yor 


MANUAL MANIA 


ag without 
manual. This is especially true of sexual 
activity. We keep side-stepping our fee 
ings a z imo а 
subject for study and an 

America has always had a 
view of se 
genera 
Today, the bedroom is a battlefield 
where one must meet all challenges to his 


could I ring you back a little later?" 


PLAYBOY 


212 


or her honor. I I fail in bed, Tm likely to 
fail in everything else (the domino theory 
of sex), so 1 read the how-to books care- 
fully and. I learn the correct way to be 
sensuous. It would be so nice if people 
could simply be guided by their feelings 
and not rely on technical manuals. Why 
should a man or woman have to read a 
book to be good in bed, and why should 
people want to be good in bed as opposed. 
to just being happy? 

J. Edwards 

‘Atlantic City, New 


sey 


THE GIRLS FROM SYRACUSE 

In his widely publicized hook The Fe- 
male Orgasm, Dr. Seymour Fisher claims 
that "the nature of а woman's tran 
tions with her father as she is growing up 
will probably affect her c i 
+ .. They could even be the prime deter 
minant of orgasmic potential.” In а sur- 
wey of 300 women, Fisher found. that 
those who rarely reach org; 
who were casual, permi 
their values. Highly or 


ported that they were reared by fathers 
who were closely involved with them, 
showed concern and demanded that they 
meet high moral standards. 

Does rtavsoy think a woman's capacity 
for having regular and frequent orgasms 
could be related to her father’s being 
nonpermissive? 

Robert Holmes 
. Pennsylvania 
with her father 
ds certainly one of many factors that could 
influence her ability to experience orgasm 
but we deeply distrust the word deler- 
minant. Statistics show correlations, not 
causes. For example, the finding that a 
high percentage of heroin. addicts once 
used marijuana does nol mean that mari- 
juana smoking leads to heroin addiction; 
an even higher percentage of marijuana 
smokers have not gone on 10 heroin. No 
cause-and-effect relationship is established 
Ly these figures. Fisher's claim seems to 
spring from the same kind of fallacy. He 
found that a significant percentage of the 
women he studied who had low orgasm. 


А woman's 


“You go on without me tonight. I must have 
gotten hold of some tired blood!” 


consistency tended to describe their fa- 
thers as casual. But this result doesn’t 
work in reverse; there's no evidence that 
а significant percentage of casual fathers 
produces daughters with low frequency of 
orgasm. Further, there obviously ате more 
than two kinds of fathers, and there is 
slight chance that a relationship can be 
described adequately by a single term 
such as casual. 

We're also wary of Fishers source of 
dain—a sample consisting entirely of mid- 
dle-class, married, white women living in 
Syracuse, New Vork. Sex is not imple; for 
instance, Kinsey found that differences in 
sexual responses related to education and 
social class. If there is a single psycho- 
logical determinant of orgasm capacity, 
it isn't likely to be found by studying 
women who are all essentially [rom the 
same background. We refuse to believe 
that as Syracuse comes, so comes the 
nalion. 


MORAŁ QUICKSAND 

Discussing the morality of married 
people having intercourse outside of mar- 
п editorial answer to a letter in the 
January Playboy Forum stated: "Our 
basic ethical precept is that people should 
feel free to follow whatever ral code 
they prefer, as long as they don’t harm 
others and don’t try to force their views 
on the unwilling.” I'd like to know on 
what you base the qualifying clause: Is it 
God's will, scientific principle or just per- 
sonal preference? If my moral code allows 
me to harm others and to force my views 
on the unwilling, why wouldn't rrAvnov 
accept that? What is the basis for your 
morality? 

Jt seems to me impossible to resist 
wrongdoing unless one has some definite 
ground of his own to stand on. You have 
not made your grounds clear, and I think. 
that your whole ethical outlook is built on 
quicksand, 


corge Foster 
Kansas City, Missouri 

Not coercing or injuring others is, we 
believe, essential to a free society. Beyond. 
that minimum, we view morality as an in- 
dividual matter, a highly personal belief 
in what is right or wrong, We would no 
more quibble with a person whose per- 
sonal moval code allowed him to harm 
others than we would quibble with a 
venomous snake ora man-eating tiger. We 
would, however, {ту to defend ourselves 
and would enlist the help of others who 
fell similarly threatened. 

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


A love story for guys 
who cheat on their wives. 


A Paul Mazursky Production 
sax GEORGE SEGAL SUSAN ANSPACH KRIS KRISTOFFERSON 
m SHELLEY WINTERS BLUME IN LOVE" 3 


TECHNICOLORe Written and Directed by Paul Mazursky [Re 
Celebrating Warner Bros. 50th Anniversary © A Warner Communications Company 


Watch for it this summer at a theatre near you. 


» 


PLAYBO 


214 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW 1, pom page 71) 


е. But it turned out that it 
wast ay. every day, to dictate 
letters. Also, every time I answered а 
leuer, I got a pen pal So my mail 
creased geometrically- 

PLAYBOY: Has popularity changed your 


life in any other way? 
VONNEGUT: No. Hm just sorry it didn’t 
happen sooner, because I was really very 
broke for a long time, when 1 had a lot of 


children. I could have bought neat vaca- 
tions and wonderful playthings, and so 
forth. I mean, my children certainly had 
shocs, and some even had private educa- 
tions, bur Fm sorry the money wasn't 
spread out more evenly over the years. 
Now that they're all gro the money has 
a slightly mocking quality. That's one of 
the things that's ridiculous about the ccon- 
omy as far as writers go. They get either 
0 for something or S500,000—and there 
doesn’t seem to be much in between. 

PLAYBOY. Docs your surge of populi 
make you uncomfortable in any way? 
VONNEGUT: No, it's all right, bec 
the books that are popular. And I don't 
read them or think about them: they're 
just out in the world on their own. They 
aren't me. Neither is my reputation. I've 
prety much stopped making public ap- 
pearances, because I'm so unlike my 
hooks or my reputation. Strangers speak 
10 me on the street in New York about 
three times а week. T 
1m not crashingly nd the smalt 
fame D have came gradually. I adi 
Norman. Mailer very mudi particularly 


to become famous at 25. He held up very 
well under the impact. 


though, is such 
As I 


1 American busi 
said, my family’s always been in the 
so the arts to me are business. I started out 
with a pushcart and now Гуе got several 
supermarkets at important intersection: 
My career grew just the way a well-ma 
aged business is supposed to grow. After 
s at a greasy grind, 1 find t 11 
c in print and selling sicadily. 
will go on selling for a 1 
Computers and. printing. presses 
charge. That's the Ameri 
machines can find 
м become а successful bus 
don't care much now whethe: 
ness grows or shrinks. My kids are grow 
Т have no fancy uses for money. It isn't 
love symbol to 
PLAYBOY: What isa love symlx 
VONNEGUT: Fudge is onc. An 
à cottage by a lake is one. 
PLAYBOY; Arc you wealthy now? 
VONNEGUT: 1 know a girl who is always 
asking people that. I nearly drop my te 
every time she does it. My mother told me 
that was practically the rudest question a 
person could ask. The girl always gets an 


ess story. 


M the 
y to use you, you 


nessman, I 
the busi- 


nc. 
И Гог you? 
WVitation to 


answer, incident 
іну clear 
Then she asks where the money cam 
from and they tell her that. too. [t sounds 
¢ like they're talking hard-core por- 
nography. Аң my wealth is ma 
the form of copyrights, which are ve 
valuable as long as the computers and the 

g presses think I'm their man, As 
Tor cash and real estate and securities and 
Uthat. Fm nowhere near being a mil- 
It doesn't now 
he one. The 


gains. 1 have пой 


g big coming up in 
the way of capi ns. I'm a straight 
оте man. And the hell with it. As I 
id. my children I grown now and 
it would wreck their heads if 1 started 
s so they could all be 


PLAYBOY: How does it [eel to е been 
doing for years what must have seemed to 
you like good work and only now getting 
really noticed? 

VONNEGUT: I don't feel cheated. T 
had even when not much n 
g in. was in paperbacks. you 
and from the first. 1 was getting 
ates from strangers who һай 


always 
ane 


Cathouse and The 
IL pa perba 


irens of Tilan were 
nd Cat's Cradle 
irket in mind. 
gout a hardenver е 
tion of Cat's Cradle after the papel 
d been sold. The th 
get S3000 immediately for a p 
nd [always needed money 
right away, and no hardener publisher 
would let me have it 

But 1 was also noticing the big money 
nil the heavy praise of 
poraries were getting for their books, and 
1 would think. “Well, shit, Fm going to 
have to study writing harder, because I 
think what Fm doing is pretty good, too. 
I wasn't even gett quive 


originals, 
with th 
Holt decided to bı 


per- 


g reviewed, 


published a list of the American lit- 
erary world back then nteed 
author of the slightest 

somewhere. I wasn't 


on thi 


- Rust Hills put the thing to- 
gether. and I got to know him later and 
I told him that the list had literally 
made me sick. that it had made me feel 


subhuman, He said it wasn't supposed to 
he taken seriously. "lt was a joke,” he 
id. And then he and his wife got out a 


American 
Two 


huge anthology of high-qu: 
е World War 
that. either. 

Oh, well, what the hell. T was buildi 
а power base anyway. with sleazo p 
backs. This society is based on extort 
wd you can have anything you want if 
The computers of 
began to notice 


you have a power base 
my paperback publisher 


that some of my sleazo books were being 
reordered, were staying 
ment decided to see what was in them. 
Hardcover publishers sniffed an opportu- 
nity. The rest is hisory—a Guggenhei, 
professorships. Elaine's Allen Ginsberg 
nd I both got elected to the X 
Institute of Aris and Letters this 
wsweek asked me how 1 felt about two 
such freaks getting into such an augu 
mization. I said, “If we aren't the es 
lishment, I don’t know who is." 
PLAYBOY: Was Slaughterhouse 
first to sell well in hardcover? 
VONNEGUT: Yes: м an altern 
tion for Literary Guild. And Brea 
Champions is а primary selection for Lit- 
crary Guild, Saturday Review Book Club 
and Book Find Club. But Em sort of like 
Ted Williams now——I shullle up to the 
plate... . 


our writing will 

won 
D felt апе E finished 
e that I didn't have to 
ymore if 1 didn't want to. It. 
of some sort of career. 1 don't 
ctly. I suppose that flowers, 
they're through blooming, have 
sort of awareness of some purpose 
served. Flowers didn't ask to 
be flowers and I didn't ask to be me. At 
the end of Slaughterhouse-Fioe, 1 had the 
Feelin Thad produced this blossom. 
So I had a shutting-off feeling, vou know. 
1 had done what I was supposed to do 
and everything was OK. And t 


VONNEGUT: Well 
Slaughterhouse-F 


know why, exi 
when 


end of 1 could 
for myself after йын. 
PLAYBOY: Since Breakfast of Champions 


has just been published, you 
ly decided ıo continue wri 
Slaughterhouse-Five. 
VONNEGUT: Well, Slaughterhouse and 
Breakfast used to be one book. But they 
just separated completely. It was like 
pousse-calé, like oil and water—they sim- 
ply were not mixable. So 1 was able to dl 
cant Slaughterlrous and wha 
left was Breakfast of Cham pions, 
PLAYBOY: What are you trying to say in 
Breakfast? 
VONNEGUT: As | 
dactic. 1 say what I re: 
hide 


apparent- 
g after 


et older. 1 get more di 
Ily think. I don't 
as like Easter eggs for people to 
find. Now, if I have an idea, when some- 
becomes clear to me, | don't embed 
itin a novel: Ls n an essay 
rly as Le y didactically 
in the introduction to Breakfast of Cham- 
pions is that E ive without a culture 
anymore, that T realize I doit have one. 
passes for а cult dis 
really a bunch of commercials, and this is 
ntolerable. It may be impossible to live 


is cle: 


н ту hi 


re 


people in Breakfast 
seem jangled and desper situa- 
tions they can't get out oL— number 
of them consider suicide. 
VONNEGUT: Yes, suicide is 


t the heart of 


PLAYBOY 


216 


the book. It’s also the punctuation mark 
at the end of many artistic carce 

up that punctuation mark and pl 
it in the book, come to understand it bet- 
ter, put it back on the shelf a but 
leave it in view. My fascination with it, 
the fascination of many people with i 
may be a legacy from the Great Depres- 
ion has more to do with 
acter than 


sion. Tha 


the American ch 
People felt so useless for so long. The m: 
chines fired everybody. It was as though 
they had no interest in human beings any- 
more. So when T was a little kid, getting 
my empty head filled up with this and 
that, D saw and listened to t 
people who couldnt follow their trades 
anymore, who couldn't [ecd 
lie 
go on much longer. They w: 
because they were so embarrassed. 
young people detect that dislike for life 
my generation often learned from our 
rents dur 


any war. 


ned 


ng the Great. Depres 
ives them the creeps, Young people sense 
our envy, too—another thing we learned 
to do during the Thirties: to hunger for 
material junk, to envy people who had it, 
"The big secret of our generation is that we 
don't like life much. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think the younger gener- 
ation likes it better than the previous two 
or three? 

VONNEGUT. No. the younger g 
probably doesn't like it, eithe 
of the anger between the ge 
the guilt and embarrassment of the pi 
ents at having passed this on. But the 


And some 
erations is 


py experience, generally, and part ol 
1 say, is living without a culture, When 
you came over here on a boat or whatever, 
you abandoned your culture. 

PLAYBOY: How has all this affected. you 
personally? 
VONNEGUT: All my books are my effort to 
nswer that question and to make myself 
like life beter than 1 do. Em trying to 
throw out all the trashy merchandise 
Julis put in my head when I was a little 
kid. 1 want to put а culture up there 
People will believe anything, which 
means / will believe anything. 1 learned 
that in anthropology. I want to start be 
lieving in things that have shapeliness 
nd harmony. Breakfast of Champions 
йи a threat to commit suicide, inciden- 
tilly. Irs my promise d m beyond 
that now, Which is somed for me. T 
used to think of it as a perfectly reason- 
ble way to avoid delivering a lecture, to 
avoid a deadline, to not pay a bill, to not 
go to а cocktail party. 

PLAYBOY: So your books have been therapy 
for yourself. 

VONNEGUT: Sure, That's well known. 
Writers get a nice break in опе way. at 
least: They can treat their mental сэз 
es every day. If I'm lucky, the books have 
that, I'd like to be 
a useful citizen. a specialized cell in the 
body politic. 1 have a feeling that Break- 
fast will he the last of the therapeutic 
books, which is probably too bad. Crazi- 
ness makes for some beautiful accidents 
t At the end of Breakfast, I g 
ету I've used over and over aga 
freedom. 1 tell them 1 won't 

nymore. They 


nore th 


amounted 10 


in a ive 


be 
п pursue 


“Playful rascals, aren't they?!" 


their own destinies. T guess that means 
I'm free to pursue my destiny, too. I 
don't have to take care of them 


PLAYBOY: Docs that Lec 
VONNEGUT: Ir fci 


good? 
-Tm 


ists’ secret: They 
metal: 
"They only pretended to do that so they 
could have rich patrons, What they really 
hoped to do was to change themselves. 
PLAYBOY: Whitt sort of things do you 
plan to write from now on? 

VONNEGUT: | can guess. It isn't really up 
to me. I come to work every morning and 
I sce what words come out of the type- 
writer. I feel like a copyboy whose job is 
то tear oll stories from the teletype n 
chine and deliver them to an editor, M 
messes about what ГИ write next are 
based on what has happened to other 
human beings as they've aged. My intui- 
tion will pooh out—my creative crazincss; 
there will be fewer pretty accidents in my 
writing. ТЇЇ become more of an explainer 
nd less of a shower. In order to have 
enough things to talk about, E may finally 
have to become more of an educated man, 
My Career astonishes me. How could any- 
body have come this far with so liule 
ation, with such garbled ideas of 
what other writers have said? I've written 
enough. I wont stop writing, but it would 


writing Breakfast did for me 
у anger 


was to bring right to the su 
with my parents for not being | 
than they were, as 1 ment 
I'm damned if I'l] pass their useless sad- 
nes on to my children if I can possibly 
help it, In spite of chain-smoking Pall 
Malls since J was 14, I think my wind is 
still good enough or me to go chasing 
alter happiness, something I've never real- 
ly tried. 1 get more respect for Truman 
Capote as the years go by, probably be 
cause he's becoming genuinely wiser all 
the time. 1 saw him on television the 
other night, and he said most good artists 
were stupid about almost everything but 
their arts. Kevi 


се 


ш well in a play. 
tors are very clumsy oll- 
t to stop being stupid in real 
ant 10 stop being clumsy offstage, 

Part of the wick for people my age, I’ 
certain, is to crawl out of the envy 
hating mood of the Great Depression at 
hard M. Nixon, who h: 
relligent and unimagi 
ppiness, is a child of the Great Depres- 
ion, 100. Maybe we can both crawl out of 
it in the next four years 1 know this 
much: After I'm gone, I don't want my 
children to have to say about me what I 
have to say about my father: "He made 
wonderful jokes, but he was such 
unhappy 


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SOCIETY OF FRIENDS continues trom page 10) 


with a batch of hastily consumed martinis 
and was seated behind the Saint Bartholo- 
mew screen when she entered. 

“Martin, 1 have sinned: 

“I know. Its in all the newspapers, 
Muriel.” 

“He deserved 10 dic. He was an odi- 
ous man. 1 hated him.” 

“It is given only to God to determine 
Muriel. You have 


who deserves to di 
an accomplice, I take 

“OE course, Martin,” she giggled at his 
naïveté “What would a poor woman 
е myself know about explosives?” 
“Who is he? 
“Binky Applebaum, the lifeguard 
captai 

"Who?" 

"You know, the good-looking Je 
one from Beach Haven who always 
to Emilio's cocktail parties. 

“Oh, him . . . hmmm." At last there 
was a motive for this madness. It had to 
be the Farragan money. Binky, while 
not indigent, was at best seasonal. Life- 
guard during the summer, ski instructor 
in the winter. Then he remembered 
something, a joke overheard between 
two weekend husbands at the 
“But Muriel, it is said of him thar he is 
impotent. 

She sniggered 
Rie 
women that he learned no amount of ve- 
neer could disguise when they got tipsy. 


oes 


shore 


behind the screen: 


vs wile The lewdness of Irish- 


у, supposi 
п an inelhe 


that everyone 
m Uncle Tom 


thought h 
of a deric. 

‘And do you repent of your sin, Mu- 
tiel, so that I may give you 
he demanded harshly. “Will you go to 
the police and tell al 

“I cannot, Martin," she sighed mourn- 
fully. 

“And you, Martin, would you break 
the seal of the confessional and accuse 
me to the police 

7I cannot, Muriel.” 

“I was sure. Now I'm sure, M 
you're sure.” He stared wide 
th fright as the barrel of the 
edged about the end of the screen and 
waggled a few times at him, then with- 


drew. In another moment, she was 


ne. 
But he was not sure. He suffered. at 
night from chills and. frequently vom- 
ed in the morning like a woman. He re- 
searched the Farragan family endlessl 
ап easy task at almost any gathering 
these days, since everyone in the city 
semed to do nothing but speculate 
where the шай bomber would strike 
next. Only Arthur, her husband, stood 
between Muriel and the lover, Binky, 
and more than 1300 units of rolling 
stock, as nearly as he could determine. 
There was one other brother, Edmund, 
a monk, but he had long ago been 
drummed out of the will, so that in the 


“And this is my wife, Verna, class of 1971... ." 


member calamity, the 
арап board of directors would not be 
replaced by а party of buttondipped, 
note-pass ppisis. Of the next gen- 
eration, on, the son of Muriel 
and Arthur, had been a contender for 
inheritance, but his name had been 
scratched, too, when, over the Vietnam. 
war, he had fled to nada. Now, it was 
whispered. he was on his way to becom- 
g а naturalized Canadian citizen and 
had no more interest in the Farragans or 
а. 
thur was next. Martin de Porres 
Fisher was convinced of it. In the morn- 
ings, leaving his apartment to walk the 
two blocks to the chancery, where his 
rchbishop ed him, he felt himself 
struggling against a powerful magnet 
that might pull Award, drawing 
him irresistibly an identical distance in the 
opposite direction rd the city’s center, 
where his friend Rizzo, the police com 
missioner, had his office. He would be 
welcome there, take breakfast coffee and 
Danish with the cop. and somehow, 
without exactly breaking the rule of the 
confessional, would let the other know 
what he, Martin, knew, would suggest 
the profit motive, would speculate 
pointedly on the next target. But in the 
end, by 9:30 cach workday morning, 
confronted by the red-robed sternness of 
his boss, he knew there was no compro- 
mise. her he told Rizzo about Muriel 
and Binky or he kept quict. Muriel had 
him by the jugular: He revered the sanc- 
y of his priesthood, would not violate 
it; Muriel needed only ww confess her 
sius; she cared not a whit about his 
absolution. 

He lost weight constantly and fainted 
dead out when she struck next. Incredi- 
bly, it was at und, the monk, whom 
Binky zapped right between the eyes, 
ig with а high-powered rifle from 
the forest while Edmund in 
tended his toi 
tery fields up in the Pennsylvania Poco- 
nos. Martin de Porres her's motive 
theory was zapped. also, and he took two 
days off, relentlessly pacing the carpets 
of his apareme lad he had пос gone 
to Rizzo, waiting for her to call, ponder- 
ing the why of it not 
due. His moral tion 
He was a dumb dı r, stomping оп 
the inside of some Ellery Queen of a 
mystery thriller, anxious as the reader 
on the outside to know the reason. On 
the second day, after the carly-evening 
news, she phoned. 

Martin, 1 would confess.” 
“Yes, yes, hurry over, Muriel. 
He dispensed with the Saint Bar- 

tholomew sereen this time. When she en- 
tered, he sat at his desk and bade her sit 
before him. She hustled her rosary from 
her purse and crossed herself. before 
beginning. 


ve sinned.” 
ry. Muriel. 


Quite 


The question is why? He 

nocent A fat cherub of a 

monk tending his tomatoes. He had no 

1 on the Farragan money. 

“Is that how you sce it, Martin? For 
damn about the 

n people, the 


) money. My o 
lave piles of it. 
п why? 

imer, when we are said to 


have had our national nervous break- 
down, and my son, Simon, left lor 
Canada, the Farragans took out a con- 
tact on his Ше, Your fat cherub in- 
cluded, Simon lacked proper раш 
арраге 


? Serafin 


A contr 
‘Ser: "so not like that 
like you and me 
No, the hit m 
own hush: 


Mart 


to be Arthur, my 
nd. Simon's own father." 


"Muriel, you're crazy! No one would 
do a thing like that 
“They were crazy, Martin. Not 1. And 


you аге good, but very naive.” 
She stood up and went to his kitchen, 
took the ice bucket from his refrigerator 
freezer. returned to the room and made 
a pitcher of mar Shc placed two 
glasses on the desktop, then expertly filled. 
u de Porres Fisher dr 
lp and felt his ha 


“And of Arthur .. 
“I will not, Marti 
That news 3 He had 

meant to tell her, “You'd better not. 

threaten her with Rizzo. gangs of Black 

Panthers, excommunication, шуп 
nake her slow dow 
How, then, Muriel?” 
“Arthur will find the m 

own expiation, never fear, Martin. And 

Simon will live." She drained her mar- 

tini, poured two more, wiping her lips 

after cach sip she took with the tiny 
pink towel of her tongue. 
“Martin,” she said alte 
broken only by the ticking of his clock, 
yl y absolution now?” 

He gave it to her. perfunciorily. 

Hy cu her three stiff oi 

took rout or 


ns to his 


3 long silence, 


not 
if it 


not 


Ir took. until October ol 1 for Ar 
thur to find the means to his expiation 
In the interim, the seasons turned: Se 
fina icher: Rizzo became mayor of 

there were constant. whis 
bishop 


sort of liberal state 
husetis was often mentioned), 
anticipated grumbling would 
lov- 
c: Simon Farragan was into his 
т of Canadian naturalization. 
Farragan just wasted away, 


be minimal; Muricl and Binky wer 


ers lor su 
fowth y 
Arthur 


once a fine front of a man. before the 
lamprey cel of guilt suckled itself lo 
him. draining him, as Muriel had 


tended. He went almost everywhere the 


gang went, since they traveled more or 
less the same social routes, but seemed 


always alone, frightened-looking, unable 


k of son, Simon. He drank too 
and soon the knowing looks—that 
tra i de Porres 
Fisher and th Emilio Se 


fina and Emilio with Binky Applebaum 
and Binky back to Emilio and. thence 
to Martin, and so on, about the mir- 
rored walls of their grouping —c 
to make of Arthur a kind of pariah 
whose condition grew gradually more 
nizable to a larger circle of friends 
The last year was 
n. In the winter, 
he shook visibly from the cold, like 

very old man, and hardly 


сусг went 


iky worked. In the spring, he 
seemed better. but tending his roses eveu 
for a brief time exhausted him; Muriel 
played teunis with Biuky. In the sum- 
mer, when others sweated profusely from 
the heat, Arthur's sweats were clammy 
and cold; Muriel spent the entire three 
mouths at Beach Haven, where Binky 
was lifeguard captain. In the fall, when 
Arthur dispatched himself, the few who 
knew it to he a suicide were not particu 
larly surprised. It was conveyed to the 
rest of the world—with a [ew spurious 
details—as an accident 

Martin de Porres Fisher read Arthin's 
funeral Mass at the cuhedral before visi 
bly relieved throngs that did not include 
Emilio 5 nky Applebaum. 
After the graveside ceremony, he led a 
nearly prostrate Muriel to the Lincol 
preparing to take her home. Inside, о 
beyond the cemetery gates, she 
herself measurably 


e 
revived 


You jut buried a pile of rock, 
Martin.” 
And Arthur... 2" Nothing startled 


him now 
level curic 
Tomorrow morning 
Haven on Emilio’s yacht 
oll Asbury Park.” 
“But why, V 
“You couldu't expect me to bury him 
t awful family of his, could yo 
panel 
in why Asbury Park?" 


He asked the quest 


from 
ial 


well he'd been going down to 
the shore for summers since һе was 


about ten, and he'd 
to Asbury Park but 
ten around to it. Beru 
s suy. 
quite right, Muriel.” He had 
taken her home, gone back to his apart- 
ment, changed. into his oldest and shab 
biest cassock and passed what was left of 
the day at a movi ing loads 
and loads of butte К 
ing his greasy fingers on the cassock. 


says wanted to go 
ad never quite got- 
late than never, 


hours : 
they dropped anchor off the 


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PLAYBOY 


220 


justvisible hulk of the Convention Hall 
at Asbury Park. Martin de Porres Fisher 
s certain they had the makings of an 
ticlimax. on their 
were short, he intended no culogy, 
neither Muriel, Binky nor Emilio ма 
vengeful enough to attempt. one either. 
He called for a minute of silence that 
маз ned vy sighing. 
Then Serafina checked for observers in 
ll directions w binoculars and 
pronounced the coast clear. Niña, Pinta 
and Santa María upended th 
bore the canvas s 
ling, and. Arthur F 
ragan, with a minimal splash, joined the 
fishes in the decp. Serafina saluted his 
departure. They stood for a long mo- 
ment peering over the railing, w. 
him descend until he be 
small white pin point, 
altogether 
He's gone," Muriel said finally. 
There was a general garbled 
nent about that, then silence. Mar- 
de Porres Fisher could think of sibso- 
Jutely nothing to say. 
“There's good blues ru 


Binky,” 


ids. The prayers 
d 


dien 


gone 


nin’ today, 
Serafina spoke, when they all 


began restlessly sh "Want to try a 
litle casting? "That is, if йз OK with 
you, Muriel. . .?" 


"Of course, Emilio. It's such a lovely 
day. A poor widow has nothing to go 
k to, but a big cold house 
' She stripped for ac 
king off her shoes, pulling the 
rpins that held her mantilla in place. 
“How about you, Martin?” 

“I arranged to be gone the entire day. 


Is settled, then. Get 
poles,” he barked to the crew. 
up in the stern.” 

They fished for hour 
trolling slowly up toward Sandy Ноо 
the friends si wine or heer from 
en they went 
out together, even though it was тот. 
le they waited, they regaled one 
with stories of their times 10: 
fina carrying off the trophy 
hy recounting how (hitherto u 
to Мани d Muriel) Binky 
crashed one of his cocktail parties at 
Beach Haven by telling the guards 
gate he was Charlton Heston, then 
nded up being carried home that night 
clad in only his Jockey shorts. By noon, 
only Emilio had a hit, reeling it in with 
aborate fakery, splitting the shoul 
der scam of his Italian admiral's uni- 
form, convulsing the other friends and 
he expectantly 
Baccalà! Baccalà! | Codfish 
at the placid water. It turned out to 
he only а sea robin 
have it mounted anyhow. He would 
it to Muriel in memoriam. 


ihe 


‘Set them 


gether, 5 


айпа chose to 


е 


Around опе, Binky and Muriel com- 
plained of tiredness and went below. 
Serafina engaged Martin de Porres Fisher 
in planning a lateunch menu. Almost 
predictably, they decided оп lobster 
With a green salad and as much Soave as 
they might hold. Then they reversed 
course and went looking for the lobsters 
they would eat. 

The greatest achievement of his sa- 
cred п 
cerned was convincing Sc 


to pay 


for the lobsters he raided from other 
people's traps. Formerly. he stole them, 
raising the pots, sometimes in view of 
their hapless owners, who dared not 
shoot at Serafina because Serafina would 
shoot back. These days, converted, he es- 
timated by weighing the fair market 


price of what he took, slipped that 
amount into a plastic envelope and 
taped it to the marker buoy before re- 
ing the pots to the water again. Also, 
| was along, they rebaited 
ps from the pungent supply of 
chicken guts and redfish that Serafina 
kept handy у fond locker 
though Martin 
didinolibottier when he wes nor along. 
In little more than an hour, cruising 
in front of the mansions olf Deal. they 
took eight lobsters—all chicks or medi 
ums—from six pots. then sent them 
the galley to be broiled. When they w 
prepared, Serafina buzed Binky i 
Muriel in their cabin, They appeared 
most immediately, yawning, jet look 
refreshed by their sleep. The friends sa 
down to eat and drink and Serafina or 
dered the Stella Maris out into the ship- 
ping lanes, where for a time they chased 
alter a rustcovered banana freighter 
heading north toward Ambrose Light- 
house, bucking and plunging into its 
wake and laughing at the [roth of spray 
that occasionally came over the railing 
to wet them. Then Serafina, getting 
drunk, grew tired of the game and took 
over the wheel, r up the 1 
boat's starboard side and. hecdless of 
the blaring and shouting from above 
then ted acros the freighter’s bow 
ind then cut the engines to drift down 
the port side, laughing at the capt 
who bellowed at him from the larger 
ship's bridge through a bullhorn. He re 
turned to the table, drank some more 
wine, ate another lobster, then repeated 
the maneuver with a tanker that moved 
southward, riding high in the water 
toward Philadelphia or Baltimore. ре 
haps. As they passed in front of the 
boat Martin de Porres Fisher noticed 
mly it was one of those newfangled 
types whose bow jutted forward beneath 
the water line like some hidden aspect 
of an iceberg, and he wondered how far 
they were from being sliced in two. 
milio will be the death of us soi 
day,” Martin spoke distantly. Before him 
Muriel fed grapes to her lover, 
who swilled them down with wine. 


ed 


“Never, Martin,” Binky Emi- 
lio can't swim.” 

In another moment, the tankers curses 
receding, Serafina came back, collapsed 

o a lounge chair, thumping his chest 
to assert that macho was still macho, then 
promptly fell asleep. Se 
ale, Bi d Muriel rose to go below 
artin was left at the tabl 
ping at his wine. Nina and Pinta, w 
the sweat of fear from their brows, crept 
back to hi 

"Monsignore, a B 

"Si. Lente, lente. 

"b. 

They begin movin 
coast the first str 
pearing in the western sky. 
Porres Fisher sipped longer at hi 
reflecting that todays evens—the 
пега], the funeral supper, everythi 
conclusively marked the end of his inno- 
cence. He was home to stay. There had 
been а time, back in 1968, when Muriel 
ad Binky had set out on their deter 
mined campaign of extinction, when he 
had wanted out. When he 
thousand times on the verg 
the tiny black-folks voice 
him to fice, to 
hack to Baptist Geo 
er's kindly, logical congregation, to 
solace from ihe Philadelphia madness 
mong his own kind. But the decadence, 
he supposed. had already 
he stayed until he had surv 
by fire, entered and found his niche 
the Mediciland of the Catholics. a p 
from which there would be no turi 
back. The future was dimly perceived 
but promis 


dged. 


ach Haven? 


slowly down th 


ks ol sunset ap- 
Martin. de 
wine, 
fu 


nothing radical but rule hy compromise, 
паке the wealthy Irish and Тајзи pay 
for their guilt as Ser 


would not he unplcas 


› Convention 
ps over the very 


mped Arthur F: 


Hall. p 
spot they had 
n that morning. 
The godfather pointed toward the shore 
and the lights of the boardwalk. He 
took a chair beside Martin as he spoke: 
“That's where they beached the Morro 
Castle, Monsignore, in the Thi 
when it caught fire at sea.” 
“Were you there, Amira 
ppened? 
"Yes, Monsignore, 1 w 
ау so much to see the poor people 
drowning in the water 

Т1 would that 1 were there, Ammi 
raglio, at the time to weep with you." 
пиу to both their 
took out а handker 
chief to blot his dry, clasping Martin de 
Porres Fisher's hand tightly in his own, 
“Oh, Monsignore, would that you had. 
Would d you had. It would h 
been such a great sharing." 


um wm TS | `\ 
ү Мо) 
Бү? M T CY 


“1 like you, Mr. Morganthrob, because you're a man who 
has it but doesn't flaunt it.” 


PLAYBOY 


222 


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