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J TOP YOUR 
MOONING, FELLAS. 
OUR GALA CHRISTMAS 
ISSUE IS HERE— 
AND ITS SWELL!" 


Y 


"s 


On the first day of Christmas, 
my true love said to me: 


D CR 


~ 

% 

[o BERRY BROS rj 
| 2 RUDD LID f 
ү LONDON 


мед and Bottled in 
b" British Government sion : 
ion A i 


SCOTS WHISKY 


100% Scotch Whiskies 


vs uin sch Scotch Whiskies 


66 9 iei Cnt bh You know how you feel 
Don't give up the ship?” — 2s 
abottle of great Scotch. 
Well, that’s how 
everybody else feels. 
Make someone happy. 


Ui 
= 
= 
== 


John Kelley put 91,000 miles 
on his Subaru. And spent less than 
$20 on repairs. 


“As a salesman, I do a lot of 
driving—about 50,000 miles 
a year. Two years ago, I was 


driving a 1968 Cadillac and 

was getting quite tired of 
spending so much money on 
gas. So І started to shop around. 
looked into VW, Toyota, 

and Subaru. I settled on 

Subaru because of the front 
wheel drive, the mileage, 


and the dealer's reputation” 


“] put my new Subaru on the road 
in April 1971 and drove it until 


February 1973, when I traded 

it in for a new Subaru 4-Door 
sedan. In 91,000 miles, 

I spent less than $20 on 

2) repairs. Гуе been driving 
50,000 miles a year for twenty- 
five years and I've never had 

such dependable and economical 

transportation. I’ve never had 

a car that came close to the 
performance of the Subaru” 


Front Drive 
Every day more people are trading fora Subaru 


See your Yellow Pages for the dealer nearest you. Or call, toll free, 800-447-4700. In Illinois 800-322-4400. 
Subaru automobiles priced from 52,459. Plus dealer prep. freight, state and local laxes.if any 
Subaru automobiles manufactured by Fuji Heavy Industries, Ltd., Tokyo, Japan Imported by Subaru of America, Inc. Pennsauken, New Jersey 


N°5 
CHANEL 


PERFUME 


PLAYBILL "0 o vs manage 
to struggle. along 
with one day of Christmas per year. И» a 
beautiful time and, with any Inck, some 
part of it—maybe even a mechanical 
Muzak carol piped into an clevator— 
es us briefly back to when ribboned 
bicycles gleamed beneath tinseled trees 
and there was nothing to do but throw 
snowballs and cat wonderful oncea-year 
food, because school was out for the holi- 
days. "These days, though, considering all 
the commercial foreplay that leads up to 
it, one sometimes seems like more than 
h—particularly since TV Santas 
now hegin hustling their dog food and 
sprays and tradi 
uminum trees shortly after Halloween. 
Not so in the wonderful world of 
where every day is Christmas—or damned 
well better be. They've set out to prove 
it once again, by carving from the wilds 
of central Florida a new. improved 
27.000-acre Son of Disneyland; but, as 
you'll find in A Real Mickey Mouse 
Operation, by D. Keith Mano (with 
some help from his friend Research 
Editor Bernice Zimmerman), the bureau 
curs who inherited Fantasyland after 
Walt died are more familiar with cost 
accounting than with vision, 
World is something less than 
rado with rides rising out of the marsh 
grass. This is Mano's first PLAYBOY article, 
but hes had a few other things to do: 
“For the past seven у he wrote us, 
"E have managed a cement factory, а 
family firm on Long Island. Im present 
ly writing a 900-page novel, my seventh; 
ving for The New Yoi 
and The Washington Post; film 
Oui; articles for Oni and Sports Hlus- 
trated. Lots of softball and po 
Las Vegas has a reputation as а fan- 
tasyland of a blcaker sort: a place where 
Christmas never comes, full of people 
with neon running through their veins; 
home, sweet home for mobsters and frac 
tured drifters and reptilian old hookers. 
According to a pair of articles by John 
Gregory Dunne and Dan Greenburg 
(with artwork by Alex Ebel and photog 
raphy by rLAYsoY staffer Richard Feg- 
ley), that's close—but a long way from 
all of it. Dunne spent several months 
there, recovering from a nervous br 
down—a brave act, at the very least- 
nd in A Town So Tough Just Living Is 
п Full-Time Job (part of his book Mem- 
oir of a Dark Season), he tells us about a 
few of the people he met: a one-breasted 
showgirl; her ex-jockey boyfriend, now 
goler for a boozy comedian; and a 
Vegas style Marlowe, hot on the Day-Glo 
trail of a smalltime gambling-debt jump- 
er. Greenburg, with great scholarly de- 
tachment, went to Vegas and interviewed 
every showgirl he could find. Sadly, his 
atterday Kinsey report, J's Just Like 
You're Two Rubber Titties, Hello!, re- 
veals absolutely nothing unusual going 
on here, officer: The girls still consider 


WILLIAMS. 


PRITCHETT 


GREENBURG 


one-to-one relationship between a man 
ind a woman to be the height of sexual 
perversion, and the stagchands still steal 
G strings to sniff in their spare time. 
Alas. But Dan remains a scientist ter 
he finishes the screen adaptation of Scor- 
ing, he says he'll be "off to Scotland with 
Japanese submarine team to search for 
the Loch Ness monster.” M it be a 
nt iguana with silicone injections? 
Stay tuned. 

We saw Sandy Dennis a few months 
ago in a revival of A Streetcar Named. 
Desire and, while watching her play 
fine Blanche, were again struck by how 
many amazing, sexy women Tennessee 
Williams has given us over the jcus— 
some fragile a like Blanche: 
some forlornly c-bloomi ng, like Alma; 
and a few, like Maggie the Cat, hotte 
than a Saturday-night special. Jr's a gal- 
lery matched, 1, only by Faulkner, 
and we're delighted to be the place 
whe: st sce another face (and 
bly more of her) added to it. 
The lady's name is Miss Coynte of Greene, 
and she's a small-town shopkeeper with 
thy male assistants; her 
ign can be seen trembl 
dow any 
ing until after dusk. 

Our other holida 
Frederic Morton's lead story of a yuletide 
encounter that could happen only on 
nes Square. The Golden Christmas 
Ducat (with artwork by Charles Bragg) 
follows an aging refugee on an old- 
fashioned religious errand that slams 
headlong into 42nd Street's quarter 
peek meatrack reality, And thanks to the 
translating abilities of Fiction Editor 
Robie Macauley and Tim Nater, Giinter 
Grass is here in English with The Escala- 
tor. Mlustrated by Robert Tallon, it’s an 
eerie little shoreshort proving that an 
escalator ride can lead to heavier places 
than the shoe department. Finally, in 
The Spree, V. S. Pritcheu det 
other wrong road taki 
the barbershop that gets w 
curiouser and curiouser 


ped into a 
bus ride from 
London to Brighton. Pritchett told us 


tically that “dreaming about a dog 
started me off on this story.” At the mo- 
ment, he says, “I'm working like blazes to 
get a new volume of short stories fin 
ished—and not answeri 

Nobody knew it at 
Truth, Beauty and the 


the time, but 
olf at the Door 


PLAYBOY 


ight when Associate Articles 
Editor Geollrey Norman was having опе 
or two with James Dickey, who claimed 
to have written, as man, the time- 
less lines " e Coke does more for 
you/ с Coke docs more for you. 
When Norman passed this significant bit 
of literary history on to several of us, 
mebody had the flash of finding addi 
tional gems from the dark pasts of impor: 
tant writers and running them as a piece. 
Fine. Bur you'll notice that Dickeys 
contribucion is conspicuously absent 
from the profitmotivated juvenilia of 
Kurt Vonnegut, Je, Arthur. Miller and 
Bruce Jay Friedman. The Coke people 
were a little vague about it when Re 
search Editor Maria Nekam called; they 
couldn't say for sure; and when Norman 
talked to Dickey he couldn't, e 
ther. So we'll w ense, 
while thanking Dickey [or a good story 
and a nice premise. 

What would be your candidate for 
The World's Most Dangerous Book? The 
Communist Manifest? Fanny Hill? 
Jonathan Livingston Seagul scholar 
Alan Watts argues, without apologies to 
the season, that it's none other than the 


Bible—at least when read literally as 
God's 


vealed truth. Such a point of 
view isn't only wrong historically, he rea- 
sons, but—in league with fierce funda- 
mental becomes а beast 
breathing sev 

ls, 


eties of social and 
the 


far removed from 
m experience Wri 
about another disturbing habit of mind, 
Garry Wills this month provides, in The 
Tyranny of Weakness, a brilliant anatomy 
of the Watergate mentality. Wills, whose 
Ph.D. in classics seems to give him a phil- 
osophical distance unusual among politi- 
cal writers, has been watching Nixon for 
a long time and here examines how he 
came to be surrounded by п who saw 
themselves and the White House it 
stare of siege—and went to war over it. 
Our summer this year was considerably 
brightened by the presence of Jim uer 
тап, pas 
and a 


what a man's gotta chew” and "Oh- 
industrialstrength. teriyaki sauce!"—and 
once sent mo t 

TION, EARTHLIXGSS Pi 
IN A BROWN PAPER ROCKET AND FIN 
TOWARD VENUS . . . (signed) Go 
he’s now off at Cambridge read 
scure authors and chuckling to 1 1 
we've decided to blame Is the Supreme 
Court Soft on Pornography? on him, The 
most welll admit is that the rest of us 
volved—Assistant Articles Editor G. 
Barry Golson, Stalb Writers Laurence 
nzales and David $ 
ant Art Di 
many hoi 
the Playboy Towers 
waiters with what 
r 


ing the 
But he al 


me out. 
dy has the editorship of the Harvard 


LÀ 
ARSENAULT. 


AZUMA GONZALI 


GOLSON. 


Lampoon to live with, so he might as well 
ake the rap for concocting i 
And ‘tis the season to put the whoopee 
cushion under a few other venerable i 
stitutions: Roger Price tells us The True 
and Believable Story of the Invention of 
Women, wherein yeast and anger, not a 
hank of hair and a piece of bone, provide 
the main ingredients; Arnold Roth, a 
semiregul National Lampoon conuib- 
utor, gives us the first installment of a 
cartoon History of Sex; Terry Catchpole, 
another member of the Lampoon squad 
(they seem to be taking over). comes up 
with a batch of new constellations to suit 
the times: and Uncle Shelby Silverstein 
akes on Mother Goose for the best two 
ont of three falls. 

There remains a bright array of the 
ever-popular “much, much more.” Barbi 
Benton's back—and front—in а seven- 
page encore pictorial by Mario Casilli, 
who was also the eye behind the lens on 
our formalwear feature, staring TV 
Magician Bill Bixby. Bill Murray talks 
pointedly with Bob Hope in our Playboy 
Interview, For nostalgia buffs who are 
into buff. nostalgia, we've got Pinups, a 
recreation in the flesh of yesterycar's 
cheesecake by erAvuoy Photographer Bill 
Arsenault and Associate Art Director 
Kerig Pope, Richard Hammer continues 
Playboy's History of Organized Crime; 
Morton Hunt's survey moves on to ты 
1 sex; Arthur Knight checks out the 
action among the Sex Stars of 1973 
blazing poof and a cloud of smoke, 
uel Greenberg rides again with Flame Is 
the Name of the Game, photographed, 
with asbestos Nikon, by rLaynov staffer 
Don Azuma (who also had the quieter 


task of shooting our Christmas Gift 
ide)—and theres even a Playboy 
Pad that didn't come from outer space 


at all, even though it looks as if it did. 
See? We told you: much, much more. 


NELSON. STANDISH ‘SIEGELMAN 


PLAYBOY vecene 


1973. VOLUME 20. NUMBER 12. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, IN RATIONAL AND REGIONAL EDITIONS. PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N MICHIGAN AVE.. CHICAGO. ILL, 60611, SECOND. CLASS POST 


AGE PAID AT CHICAGO, ILL. AND AT ADDITIONAL MAILING CFFICES. SUBSCRIPTIONS: IN THE UNITED STATES, $10 FOR ONE YEAR POSTMASTER SEND FORI 3579 TO PLATBUY, P-D. BOX 2120, BOULDER, COLO 80302. 


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

Perhaps it is. 

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

According to the Italian legend, 


Galliano is distilled from the rays of the 
sun;so perhaps it would help to describe 
the taste as, simply, golden. 

Butthe tall bottle of golden Galliano 
makes a splendid gift. It isn't the thought 
that's sentimental. 

It’s the gift of gold behind it. 


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


vol. 20, no. 12—december, 1973 


PLAYBOY. 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL... ы s 
DEAR PLAYBOY 13 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 21 
DINING-DRINKING. ч: = A 
MOVIES. mend 26 
RECORDINGS... 50 
Be. me 60 

Court Jesis 62 
= 74 

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 77 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM 3 = 5, x D 
SEXUAL BEHAVIOR IN THE 19705—article =... MORTON HUNT 90 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: BOB HOPE—candid conversation. 97, 


THE GOLDEN CHRISTMAS DUCATI -FREDERIC MORTON 112 
TYRANNY OF WEAKNESS—opinion — -GARRY WILLS 116 
т THE WORLD'S MOST DANGEROUS BOOK-article..... -ALAN WATTS 119 
Pinup Reprise PINUPS—pictorial eed ES 


PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS CARDS— verse > m JUDITH WAX 134 
FLAME IS THE NAME OF THE GAME— drink. EMANUEL GREENBERG 137 
PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF ORGANIZED CRIME—arti RICHARD HAMMER 139 
BARBI'S BACK!— pictorial.. sss Е а DAS, 
TWINKLE, TWINKLE, LITTLE BLENDER—humor TERRY CATCHPOLE 150 
15 THE SUPREME COURT SOFT ON PORNOGRAPHY?—humer. .. 153 
THE SPREE—fiction Vo S. PRITCHETT 161 
FACTORY TESTED—playboy’s playmate of the month - 162 
Disney Whirl PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humoi eam — - 172 


THE TRUE STORY OF THE INVENTION OF WOMEN—fiction._ ROGER PRICE 174 
PRESTO! CHANGE. = ROBERT 1. GREEN 176 
UNCLE SHELBY'S MOTHER GOOSE—hum. o SHEL SILVERSTEIN 181 
MISS COYNTE OF GREENE—fiction TENNESSEE WILUAMS 184 
PLAYBOY'S CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE—gifts. m = 189 
THE VARGAS GIRL— pictorial. ALBERTO VARGAS 196 
A REAL MICKEY MOUSE OPERATION article. _D. KEITH MANO 199 
SEX STARS OF 1973—article „ARTHUR KNIGHT 200 
THE ESCALATOR—fiction Р GUNTER GRASS 213 


LOVE & LUST IN “VEGAS” 
IT'S JUST LIKE YOU'RE TWO RUBBER TITTIES—erticle.......DAN GREENBURG 215 
A TOWN SO TOUGH—article.......... JOHN GREGORY DUNNE 216 


A PLAYBOY PAD: TEXAS TIME MACHINE—modern living........... EZ 


attire. > 


Benion Returns 


THE MONK WHO WOULDN'T LIE DOWN—ribald classic. 226 
TRUTH, BEAUTY & THE WOLF AT THE DOOR—humor ar ~ 228 
A PROFUSELY ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF SEX—humor ARNOID ROTH 231 
Sex Stars P. 200 PLAYBOY POTPOURRI й es I ~ 306 


GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYBOY BUILDING. B19 NORTH MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60511. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL MANUSCRIPTS, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED 
Ir DIET ARE TO BE RETUENED AND HO RESPONSIBILITY CAN SE ASSUMED FOF UNSOLICITED MATERIALS. ALL FIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT TO PLAYBOY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCONDITIONALLY 
ASSIGNED FOR PUBLICATION AND COPYRIGHT PURPOSES AND AS SUDIECT TO PLAYBOY'S UNRESTRICTED тент то EDIT AND TO COMMENT EOITORIALLY. CONTENTS CORTRIGNT © 1873 BY 
PLAYBOY ALL FIGHTS MESENVER. PLAVBDY ANO RABDIT HEAD EYMBOL ARE MARKS OF PLAYAOY. REGISTERED U.S. PATENT OFFICE, MANCA REGISTRADA. ARGUE DEFOSEE. NOTHING WAY DE RE- 
PRINTED IN WHOLE OR IN PART WITHOUT WAITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SCHIFICTION TH TWIS MAGAZINE 
AND ANY REAL PEOPLE ANO PLACES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL, CREDITS: COVER: EUNNY/ MODEL BONITA LOU ROSSI, PHOTOGRAPHY BY BILL AFSENAULT. DESIGNED PY RERIG POPE. OTHER PHO- 
TOGRAPHY BY. BILL ARSENAULT, P. € (7). 140; DOR AZUMA, P. 137: CHARLES W. BUSH. P. 3, 4; ALAN CHACEY. P. 4; ALAN CLIFTON, P, 3. FICK CLUTHE. P. 3: JEFF COHEN, P. 3; RICHARD FEGLEY, P. 116- 
117, MICHAEL GINSBURG. P. З, GUS GREGORY. P. 21. 30, 70.74. BE, ROBERT HARMON, P 3: CARL IRI, P. & TETS ITANARA PHOTOGRAPHY. P. 21, 67. TOW KELLER. P. 4, MINOAS, P. 3, CHARLES НЕЗ 
P. d; 4. BARRY O'ROURKE, P. 3: MIRE PALADIN, P. 3. POMPEO POSAR, P. 4; SHOTMELL, P. 4; VERNON L SMITH, P. 3, 4: MORT TADDER, P. 3: UPA. P. MO (5). i45; PAT MC CALLUM YORK, P. 3 
TF. Bi AND 141. ILLUSTRATIONS BY JOHN CRAIG. P. 200-211, FROM THE COLLECTIONS OF: OSCAR ABOLAFIA/TRARSWORLD. JAY ARNOLD, DAVID BAILE, GIANCARLO BOTTI. JONN BRYSON, MARIO 
CASILLA (4). MENE CHASEAU/STONA. JEFF COHEN, MARIE COSINDAS, RAYMOND DEPANDON/GANMA, LEONAND DE RAEMY/SIGHA, RICHARD FEGLEY. GLOBE PROTOS, Inc. LARRY DALE GORDON (3); 
жин v. vA TON GEO PHOTOS, Inc. (9), SRIAN D. HENNESSEY, DWIGHT HOOKER, YORAM KANANA. DOUGLAS KIRKLAND, HARRY LANG9ON/CLODE PHOTOS. INC, MARY ELLEN MARE) 


ir cones, Мант CLUEN WARK. MINDAS. RALPH NELSON TERRY O'NEILL, ORLANDO, ALAN PAPPE/LEE GROSS (3). Pouren POSAR (2). STEVE schaPiPo. RICHARD BENKET: TAYLOR. 
@ TEDESCO. RON THAL. GENE TRINDL/GLOBE PHOTOS, INC. BOE WILLOUGHBY. Р. 156159, PHOTOGRAPHY DY: BILL ARSENALLT. DON AZUMA (4). KEN FRANTZ. ILLUSTRATIONS BY: WILLIAM 
BIDERBOST. EHALOO CARLEAT DAN CYNE. KINUKG CHAFT. JOHN CRAIG (2), SEYMOUR FLEISHMAN, KUNIO NACIO, ROY MOOEY, FRED NELSON. ELWCOD SMITH. TOM STADLER, BILL LTTERBACK. 


Two ways to get 
hifi features without 
. paying fora hi-fi. 


To a lot of people, the “hi” in 
hi-fi means emptying your bank 
account just to fill your ears. 

But we wouldn't hear of it. 

So Panasonic offers two com- 
plete record, radio and tape 
systems that give you a lot 
more than you bargain for. The 
Panasonic SE-4070, with its 
own 8-track recorder. And the 
SE-2150, with its own cassette 
recorder. 

Either way, you avoid the hi-fi 
price, but get some very hi-fi 
features. 

Like direct coupling. For less 
distortion. And more power in 


56.4070 8-Track System 


the bottom end. Where you 
really need it. 

And our exclusive 
Quadruplex™ circuitry. Which 
gives a 4-channel effect to 


stereo tapes, records and radio. 


When you add two more 
speakers. 

And each system is designed 
to help your precious records 
live longer. With an umbrella 
spindle to cushion the fall. 
Viscous-damped cueing to 
minimize those anguishing 
scratches. And anti-skating to 
keep the needle centered in 
the groove. 


We didn't cut corners inthe 
tape sections, either. They let 
you record your own music. And 
play it back. With the help of a 
VU meter to monitor signal 
strength. Fast forward to speed 
you to your favorite song. And 
an indicator to tell you when 
you get there. 

Asif allthat wasn’t enough,we 
added a pair of air-suspension 
speakers. Each with абу" 
woofer and 272” tweeter. 

It seems the only thing we 
left off is a hi-fi price tag. A 
famous hi-fi feature you can 
probably do without. 


n 
Panasonic. 
just slightly ahead of our time, 


200 Park Avenuo, New York, М. Y. 10017 


PLAYBOY 


On October 28, 1972, 
Emerson Chipps stopped 
by the Candlelight Lounge 
and ordered a bourbon and soda. 

Just as he has every Thursday evening 
since 1953. For 19 years the 
Candlelight Lounge 
served Emerson Chipps 
Early Times. 

On October 28, 1972, 
they did not. 

Goodbye, Mr. Chipps. 


. To know us is to love us. 


Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whisky * 86 Procl + Early Times Distillery Co., Louisville, Ky OETDC 1973 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 
ARTHUR KR 
ARTHUR PAUL art director 
SHELDON WAX managing editor 
MARK KAUFFMAN photography editor 
MURRAY FISHER, NAT LEHRMAN 
assistant mun 
EDITORIAL 
ARTICLES: DAVID WUTLER editor, GEOFFREY 
NOKMAN asociale editor, с. BARRY GOLSON 
assistant edilor » FICTION: ROME MACAULEY 
editor, STANLEY VALEY asociale editor, 
SUZANNE MGNEAR, WALTER SUNLETTE assist- 
ant editors = SERVICE FEATURES: том 
OWEN modem living editor, ROGER WIENER 
assistant editor; ковкит 1. GREEN fashion 
director, DAVID. PLATT associate fashion 
director; THOMAS mamo food & drink 
edilor + CARTOONS: MICHELLE URRY editor 
COPY: ARLENE nOURAS edilor, STAN AMBER 
assistant editor + STAFF: MICHAEL LAUKENCE, 
ROBERT J. SUA, DAVID STEVENS senior 
editors; LAURENCE GONZALES, REG POTTERTON, 
DAVID STANDISH, CRAIG VETTER staf] writers: 
DOUGLAS BAUER, WILLIAM J. HELMER, GRETCHEN 
MONFESE, CAR SNYDER associale editors; 
DOLGIAS C. BENSON, JOHN BLUMENTHAL, J. F 
O'CONNOR, JAMES V. PETERSEN, ARNIE WOLFE 
assistant editors; SUSAN MEISLER, MARIA NEKAM, 
BARBARA NELLIS, RAREN PADDERUD, LAURIE 
SADLER, BERNICE T. ZIMMERMAN research 
editors; J. PAUL GETTY (business & finance), 
NAT MENTOFE, RICHARD WARREN LEWIS, RAY 
RUSSELL, JEAN SHEPHERD, JOHN SROW, BRUCE 
WILLIAMSON (MOVIES), TOMI UNGERER contrib- 
uiing editors « ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES. 
PATRICIA PAPANGELIS administrative edito 
CATHERINE GENOVESE rights & permissions: 
MILDRED ZIMMERMAN administrative assistant 


ETCHMER executive editor 


ng editors 


ART 
TOM SPAEULER, каки: POPE associate directors; 
MICHAEL SISSON execulive assistant; вов 
POST, ROY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, CHET SUSKI, GOR- 
DON MORTENSEN, FRED NELSON. JOSEPH PACZEK 
ALFRED ZELCER assislant directors: JULIE FILERS, 
VICTOR HUBBARD, GLENN STEWAUD art assistants 


PHOTOGRAPHY 
MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor: 
GARY COLE, HOLLIS WAYNE asociale edi- 
fors; вил. sows technical editor; вил. 
AISENAULT, DON AZUMA, DAVID CHAN, RICHARD 
FEGLEV, DWIGHT HOOKER, POMPEO POSAR staff 
photographers; MARIO CASILLA, MiL AND 
MEL FIGGE, BRIAN D. HENNESSEY, ALEXAS URBA 
contributing photographers; JUDY 101Nsox 
assistant editor; tro keka photo lab 
supervisor; JANICE BERKOWITA Masts chief 
stylist; rosent caus administrative editor 


PRODUCTION 
JOHN MASTRO director: ALLEN VARGO man- 
ager; FLEANORE WAGNER, RTA JOHNSON, 
MARIA MANDIS, RICHARD QUARTAKOLE assistarls 


READER SERVICE 
CAROLE CRAIG director 


CIRCULATION 
HOMAS G. WILLIAMS customer services; ALVIN 
WiEMOLD subscription manager 


ADVERTISING 
HOWARD W. LEDERER advertising director 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC. 
ROBERT 5. PREUSS business manager and 
associate publisher; RICHARD S. KOSENZWEIG 
execulive assistant to the publisher; 
RICHARD M. KOFF assistant publisher 


This year, be there. 


WIN A TRIP TO THE ACTION IN THE 


Kent Championship Sweepstakes. 


1. NBA FINALS 2. SUPER BOWL 


+. 


5. INDY “500” 


8 Grand PrizeTripsto 8 Great Sports Events. 


All expense paid trips for two to the championship event(s) you win. 
Includes transportation, hotels, meals and sports tickets. 


1,563 PRIZES WILL BE AWARDED! 


Enter as many events as you like, but 
choose only one event on each entry. Eight 
separate drawings will be held to determine 
Grand Prize winners, one for each sports event. 
All remaining prizes will be awarded by random 
drawing from all entries received. See your 
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2nd Prize— 20 RCA Color Portable TV's 
3rd Prize— 35 Polaroid 90 Cameras 
4th Prize— 1,500 Thermo-Serv 

Championship Tankards 


Kings: 16 mg. “tar,” 1,1 mg. nicotina; 100": 19 mg. “tar,” 
12 mg, nicotine av. par cigarette, FTC Report Sept. 73. 


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


A کی‎ 


6. WORLD SERIES 


3. NHL FINALS 


27 
7. U.S. OPEN GOLF 


Логін 1973 


4. KENTUCKY DERBY 


KENT CHAMPIONSHIP SWEEPSTAKES OFFICIAL RULES 


Eight grand championship event prizes. 1563 prizes in 
total. MI prizes to be awarded. Enter as often as yeu like, 
win more than once, 
1, To enter, print your пате, address and zip code on the 
entry ferm or use a plain piece ol paper. 
2, Indicate your championship event selection. Select only 
‘One event for each entry you submit I more than ore event 
is indicated, you are disqualified. Mail your entry with bot 
laps trem any 2 KENT cig or hand print the 
words "Kent Micrenite filter” in block letters on a 3" » 5 
piece of paper. 
3. Important: You must also write the number of the cham- 
tering on the outside of the елу 
Fell hand corner, Failure to indicate the 
championship event number on the outside of the envelope 
will void the entry forthe Grand Prize only. 


4 Enter as oten as you мы). тай ach nt separately 

(enl Championship Sweepstakes, P.0. Box 206, Circle 
Pes Hinn. SB I be eni nies must be recen 
by the judging organization on or before January 4, 1974. 


5. One grané prize winner will be drawn out o! the entries 
in eachol the eight separate championship events. Ii there 
are no entrants in a championship event a winner for that 
event will be selected in a random drawing {rom all entries 
not yel awarded a grand prize. The balance of prizes will 
be determined by random drawing from all other entries 
received. Spot's International, Inc. is the independent 
judging organization whose decisions are final. 
6 Sweepstakes only open lo residents of the USA. over ZI 
years of age. Lerilard employees and their families. is al 
hated Companies, 15 advertising agencies and Spots 
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Missouri and wherever else prohibited or restricted by lav. 


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7. Local, state anc Federal taxes, il any, are the responsi 
bility ofthe winners. 
Favorite dealer to wan als. list his name 
е сі the eight Grand Prize winners, 
jor TV sel 
9, For a list of Grand Prize through third prize winners 
(those prizes having a retail value of $50.00 or more). send 
з separate, stamped. sell addressed envelope to: Kent 
Winhers List, P.0. Box 175, Circle Pines, Minn, $5014. 


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4 


Introducing the 1974 Volkswagen. 


While other cor makers ore busy 
taking the wraps off their new model 
cars, Volkswogen has gone one step 
further and changed the wraps. 

From the minute you drive away in 
your 74 Volkswagen, youre covered 
by our Owner's Security Blanket with 
Computer Analysis. 


Its not just a warranty. It's a commit- 


ment to our owners long after theyve 
signed on the dotted line. 


We like to think of it as total trans- 


portation because you deserve a cor 
you can count on 365 days a year. And 
we believe you shouldn't have to keep 
paying to get what you deserve. 
Nobody in the cor business hos any 
plan like it. Nobody seems to care 


enough. Or do enough. Except Volks- 


wagen. 


If you take a litile time to read this, 


you'll find out how a Volkswagen 
owner gets the most advanced new 


cor coverage plon in the world frec. 
Our 12 month/20,000 mile guarantee. 

Most carowners drive 
about 14,000 miles 
during the first 
year. So what 
earthly good is a 
12,000 mile gucron 
tee? Volkswagen's cov- 
erage is for 20,000 miles—most car 
companies don't come neor thet. 

This is our guorantee, in plain En 
glish 

“IF you maintain ond service your 
1974 Volkswagen as prescribed in the 
Volkswagen Maintenance Schedule, 
any factory parts found to be defective 
in matencl or workmanship within 12 
months or 20,000 miles, whichever 
comes first (except filters and tires), 
will be repaired or replaced free of 
charge by any U.S. or Canadian VW 
dealer: 


We guarantee against more than 

just defective parts. 

Volkswogens Owners Security 
Blanket goes far beyond just guaran- 
teeing against defects. Most car com- 
panies won't replace a windshield 
wiper if it wears cut. We will. They 
won't replace a lightbulb. We will 

Take things like brake pads and 
linings. As long as you have them 
adjusted when your Maintenance 
Schedule says so, we'll replace them 
free if they wear out. Same thing goes 
for clutch linings end batteries. 

And spark plugs and points? We 
change them free ot 12,000 miles and 
well honor that no matter how long it 
takes you to go that distance. This is 
unheard of in the auto industry. 

24 months/24,000 miles. 

We've gone one step further with 
the insides of our engine and transmis- 
ston.Wequarantee р fortwo years 


or 24,000 miles, 
whichever comes 
first. Of course we 
don't cover defects 
caused by lack of 
maintenance or |. 
abuse. М 
Ме guarantee ovr repairs. 

When youre running out of wor- 
ranty, youre still not out of luck. We'll 
make the repair free and guarantee 
the parts and workmanship for an 
additional 6 months or 6,000 miles. 

If the repair takes overnight, 
well lend you a car. 

Moving right along, 
were commitied to E 
keep you moving- 
Soil you're a qual: Ó 
ified owner and == 
you find that a war- 
ranty repair is going to 
take overnight, we'll lend you a free 


car by appointment, for as long as the 
repoir takes 

(And we haven't forgotten owners 
of older VWs. If your car needs o re- 
pair and you need a car, well rent you 
one at a nominal price.) 

Express care. 

How many times hove you heard of 
woiting two weeks before you can get 
a Feadight fixed? Not at Volkswagen. 
With Express Care if we can fix some- 
thing in less than 30 minutes, we'll do 
it while you wait. No appointment 
needed for these little repairs. 

3 free computer check-ups. 

No other car maker in the world 
has anything like Computer Analysis. 
(They probably will some day in the 
future.) 

Every 1974 Volkswagen can be plug- 
ged into a computer and out comes a 
written analysis of over 50 vital func- 
tions. Everything from your engine 


Gvalsımaren OF AMERICA, mc, 


compression down to your battery 
voltage. 

Computer Analy- ft 
siscon spot things | 
that even a 
master me- 
chanic might 
not see.So we 
can fix these |! 
things while 
you're still covered by our Owners 
Security Blanket. 

Were in this together. 

We mode the car. You own the car. 
So were in this together. As long as 
you maintain your new Volkswogen 
properly we'll do most of the worrying 
for you. Thats what Volkswagens 

Owner's Security Blanket 
is all about -once you re 
a Volkswagen Owner, 
were not going to leave 
you out in the cold. 


‚© VODKA.£0.4 100 PROOF. OISTILLEO FROM GRAIN. STE. PIERRE SMIRNOFF FLS. (OIVISION OF HEUBLEIN.)©1973. HEUBLEIN. INCORPORATED. HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT. 


The Adams Apple 


(permission to disregard. 
previous instructions) 


A while back we introduced 
anice, simple drink called the 
Adam's Apple. 

Apparently our Adam's Apple 
was too simple. People couldn't 
resist the temptation to com- 
plicate it.Thats O.K. with us. 
One guy we know made it a 
short drink so thered be room 
in his tall glass for apple slices. 
and cinnamon sticks. 


To makea ic Miems 
Apple, pour an ounce or so 


: A f Smirnoff in an ice-filled 
We've heard of people adding class (tall oret and 


cloves, nutmeg, lemon juice, 

even crushed mint. P 
Is there no end to this mad- Smimoff 

ness? We certainly hope not. leaves you breathless” 


apple juice or apple cider. 


DEAR PLAYBOY 


E] sooress PLAYBDY MAGAZINE - PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


DIFFERENT STROKES 
Your Playboy Panel: New Sexual Life 
Styles (PLAYnoy, September) is one of 
the most interesting and comprehensive 
overviews of sexual ways of life I've read 
in many months. In my clinical work 
with straight and gay married couples, I 
focus very much on the contract issue al- 
luded to by panelist and Screw cofound- 
er Al Goldstein. I strongly encourage 
my clients to approach their 1 
from a contractual viewpoint: that is, one 
in which the individuals firmly agree on 
what to expect and what to pay under 
n emotional conditions. I was im- 
ed with the diversity of your panel- 
. It’s seldom that one can spend an 
ining evening with a statistician, 
a homosexual man of God, a couple 
of erotic museum founders and a girl with 
а deep throat and a fine brain 
Dick E. Miller, Ph.D. 
Scottsdale, Arizon. 


den Haag. 
nfairly out- 


but your 
discussion proves once more that a man of 
great logic and common n acquit 
himself better d of lesser 
intelligence. 


Wolfgang Von Rot ш 
addam, Connecticut. 
4 your discussion extraordinarily 


ng of the individual personalities 
of your panelists. The sexual gourmands 
and the sexual gourmets were casily told 
apart, To each his or her ow 
Mary 5. Calder 
New York, New York 
Dr. Calderone is the executive direc- 
tor of the Sex Information and Educa- 
tion Council of the U. S. 


g your discussion, in which 
Idstein carries on about his wife being 

property,” I would remind him that 
it is common knowledge that property 
decreases in value with negligence and 
poor handling. 


Suzanne Davis 
Fredericksburg, Virginia 


Your panel on new sexual life styles 
is engrossing reading. In particular, the 
words and sentiments of panclist Al 
Goldstein captured my thoughts with 


clavity that caused me to rejoice that ab- 
solute truth. exists in the personage of 
one human being. This man is truly 
God's gift to women, and 1 feel he can 
help lead them out of the muck and mire 
of the falsehoods and lies of the women 
lib movement, Run more of his material, 
and maybe even that inferior, secondary 
gender can find redemption. 

AI Goldstein 

New York, New York 


On the subject of group ma 
panelists offer some intrig 
but not all their opinions are supported 
by the available scientific evidence. As 
researchers into the subject, we've found, 
contrary to what one panelist implies, 
that dominance is only an occasional 
issue among groups and that trios are 
outnumbered by foursomes two to one. 
As with straight marriages, there are 
more differences than similarities be- 
tween one group marriage and another. 
‘The simplistic generalizations that group- 
marriage partners will revert to monog- 
amy, cooperate less than do people in 
communes or cannot cope with open re- 
lationships outside the group do not 

nd under scientific scrutiny 

Larry L. and Joan M. Constantine 

Acton, Massachusetts 


riage, your 


LONG LIVE THE KING 
Asa member of the U. S. Chess Federa- 
tion, I want to tell you that Walter 
Tevis’ story The King Is Dead (vLaxsov, 
September) is fantastic. 
Art Tonucei, Jr. 
Shelton, Connecticut 


MARKET VALUE 

Being a lover of Lovecraft and Poe. I 
ghoulishly sank my fangs into Christina 
Rossetti’s September Ribald Classic, 
Goblin Market. X wasn't. disappointed. 
For Victorian poetry, it was certainly 
very unVictorian in style and subject 
matter. Kinuko Craft's illustrations added. 
greatly, too. 


Raymond J. Bowie, Jr. 
Somerville, Massachusetts 


As one who has personally explored 
and "openly discussed" tlie erotic aspects 
of Goblin Market, I congratulate. you 
for bringing the poem to your readers. 
Now consider, if you will, the phallic 


1973. VOLUME 20, nUnnen Vz FOnLISHER WORTHLY DY PLAYUOY, PLAYEGY BUILDING, 213 WORTH MICHIGAN 


AVENUE, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS SOEN. SUMGCRIPTIONG: IN THE UNITED STATES, IFS POSSESSIONS ANU CAMADA, $24 FOR THREE 


YEARS, $16 FOR TWO YEARS. S10 ron one vean. 


RENEWALS, CHANGE CF ADDRESS: SEND BOTH CLD AMD NEW ADDRESSES TO PLAYEOY. PLAYEOY BUILDING, зто monti m 
AVENUE, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS GOGH. AND ALLOW 30 DAYS FOR CHANGE. MARKETING: ROBERT 4 CUTWILLIG, MaRnerıne 


EMERY SMYTH, MARKETING SERVICES DIRECTOR; NELSON FUTCH, MARKETING MANAGER; MICHAEL RICH. PROMOTION DIRECTOR: LEE 


SOITLER, DINECTON OF PUBLIC RELATIONS. ADYERTISING: How 
о AVEN 


EOWERY STREET: SOUTHEASTERN MEPRESENTATIVE. 


ERS, 747 TH 


D W. LEDERER, ADVERTISING DIRECTOR; JULES KASE. JOSEPH 
. NEW тояк, NEW YORK 10017; CHICAGO, SHERMAN KEATS, 
MOORE, MANAGER, B10 FISHER BUILDING, Les ANGELES 

узсо. ROUENY E, STEPHENS, MANAGER, 417 MONT 
PIEDMONT ROAD, N.E., ATLANTA, GEORGIA 30305. 


4 


Its different on Sondra 


eX 


than on Sara. 


Cachet. 

The neu fragrance 
as individual 

as she is. 


Cachet is something а little different on 
every girl. Which means it'll be different 
on the you give it to, toc. Different 
and special. Just like her name. Cachet 
by Prince Matchabelli. 


13 


PLAYBOY 


14 


poss s of the chimney in "Twas Ihe 
Nigh Before Christmas (A Visit from St. 
Nicholas), written by Clement Moore in 
. beware! 


Tim A. Pil 
Sidney, Montana 


UP WHERE THE AIR IS RARE 
Living at sea level here doesn’t often 
ing me a feeling of vertigo. But with 
the help of Peter L. Sandberg's gripping 
story Culloway's Climb (eLaxsov, Sep- 
tember). I found that feeling overwhelm- 
ingly evoked. Congratulations to you and 
10 Sandberg. 


Oscar Wright HE 
Long Beach, California 


GHOST STORY 

Hal Bennews The Ghost of Martin 
Luther King (eLaysoY, August) is a fine 
story dealing with that complex level of 
ck American experience th as 
much mythical as real. By depicting Burn- 
side. Bennett's imaginary Southern town, 
as a community that rellects the changing 
sociology of the South as well as the 
changing values of its people, Bennett 
is able to individualize each black ch. 
acter and to relate him to the great chal- 
lenge left to all of us by Martin Luther 
King. I was moved by Bennett's command 


of his а 
James A. McPherson. 
Cranston, Rhode Island 
MePhersonts short story “The Silver 
Bullet,” which appeared in PLAYBOY in 
our July 1972 issue, was selected for in- 
clusion in the anthology “The Best 
American Short Stories 1973." 


IN THE DRINK 
manuel Greenberg's Augu: 
Great Bars /C 
ipe lor “21's” 


arde, 
reat Drinks, contains a rec- 
Green Monkey in which he 
s that bartender Bruno. Mysak uses 
either Galliano or Roiano in the drink 
1 thought you'd like to know that the rec- 
pe you tan is for a Mister Roberts and 
that “21” stocks only Galliano. 

Alan Demarest 

Yonkers. New York 


PHYSICIAN, HEAL THYSELF 
Roger Rapoport’s investigation into 

the state of healıh care i ica in Jt 

Enough to Make You Sick (eLaynov, 


porting thar should be x enough 
get ul medical revolution under 
e should be just as much a 
part of everyone's education as mathe- 
matics and basic science, since much of it 
is no more difficult than knowing how to 
cook. As things are, however, the medic: 
profession is a priesthood far more 
powerful than that of the medieval 
Church, and often as superstitions, rapit- 
cious and 
n be his own priest. Tomorrow every 
be his own doctor. We can also 


nelhcient Today everyone 


one ma 


look forward to the time when everyone 
will be his own policeman. Isn't that. 
what freedom is all about? 
lan Watts 
salito, Califor 
More answers to that question may be 
found in Watts's “The World's Most Dan- 
gerous Book" on page 119. 


Im not so naive as to bel 
every doctor in this country is а gr 
one, but Rapoport would have us be 
that по physician has enough clinical 
competence to clip his own toenails. Let's 
all hope that medical-cire crusader Ra 
poport never gets sick. because, with all 
iLose bastards in white coats around, he 
won't stand a chance. 

William Мер 

Denver, Colora 


ve that 


iel 
lo 


poport's rap at American med 
is right on target! As a student at Chica- 
go's West Side Medical Center, I appre- 
ciate his honest look at the multitude 
of problems stemming from the exist- 
ence of foreign doctors in the U.S. and 
the А.М.А-5 backward policies as they 
relate to Аше education. 
There is, of course, a severe doctor short- 
age in this country, but, even now, Ame 
can medical schools are forced to admit 
only a small fraction of the qualified 
students who apply. And while such stu- 
dents are denied admission, foreign M.D.s 
with litle or no ability to speak English 
xc entrusted with the health care of the 
American public. Rapoport's article goes 
a long way in publicizing such inequitics. 
Seymour I. Schlager, M.S. 
Chicago, Illinois 


1 medi 


ets, Аше 


Considering their lousy di 
can men should be proud they place 
as 23rd among nations in Ше 
ancy 


Arthur J 
Nashua, New Hampshire 


pist and 1, for 


Tam an inh ion ther; 


one, can confirm many of Rapoports 
observations. For many years, I have 
fought frustration, an d, finally, 


despair in reaction to the arrogant prima 
donnas, doddering old men and snotty 
young punks who call themselves doctors. 
T can assure you that for every doctor who 
understands inhalation therapy, there are 
five who do nor. I have se 
needlessly die because the attendi 
physician didn't understand respiratory 
problems and refused to lower himself by 
consulting me or even another doctor 
more familiar with the field. If only every 
doctor could spend one ye: 
education working as a lowly hospi 
orderly, he might learn humility and com- 
passion. Failing that, he might 
come to value the talents and experi 
of his nurses, therapists and technicians 


"s 


a little more. So much for dreaming. In 
the time, however, we still have 
Rapoport. Thank God for somebody with 
the balls to stand up and tell the public 
what miserable sons of bitches our Dr 
Welbys really are. 
(Name and address 
withheld by request) 


In good faith, I granted an interview 
with Rapoport thinking he could pre 
serve both the content and the context of 
our conversation. I, as well as many other 
physicians, have worked thousands of 
hours to provide quality medical care at 
reasonable prices to the people of the 
Denver metropolitan area. By misusing 
my quotes, Rapoport distorted. the truc 
feelings I have for my fellow physici 


ns 
and thereby destroyed the work I've done. 


W. H. Livingston, M.D. 
Denver, Colorado 


In Rapoport's article, I am described 
а party to an incident involving a p: 
tient whom a doctor wanted sent home. 
Referring to my hospital, the doctor al- 
legedly remarked that he had only “room 
for sick people in this place.” I partici 
pated in the incident, but Rapoport’s ac 
count is absolutely untrue. No doctor 
ement. The patient 
in no danger 
There were 
no differences of opinion between myself 
and the doctor as Rapoport described. He 
also quoted me on such subjects as luna- 
tics, problems with Indian doctors, the 
ount of money spent for an English 
course, the flunking of such a course 
particular tunnel, and a doctor expressing 
a viewpoint that some patients should be 
allowed to die. All the remarks attributed 
to me on these subjects were made up. 
Bertrella D. Mitchum, К.Х. 
Cook 
Chicago, Ш 


Irs Enough to Make You Sich is 
enough to make you sick. I am referring 
specifically to a statement attributed. to 
“IE someone doesn't have anyone at 
of him, thats his p 
lem, not ours." Not only did 1 nat ms 
tement to that effect but the view- 
point expressed is totally inimical to my 


а ма 


basic concept of medical care, My state 
ment "We encourage our doctors to be. 
lide more imaginative, a lite fr 


referred to the disposition of patients and 
ly did not disregard their home 
ion. On the contrary. it related 10 
the idea of using acute beds in hospitals 
for acute and definitive care. When this 
phase of treatment has been completed, 
every effort is made to move the patient 
to the place most appropriate, whether 
t be a convalescent home or his ow 
home. Arrangements are then made for 
visiting nurses, physical therapists, speech 


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therapists or whoever or whatever else is 
necessary for maintenance of the treat- 
ment program. 
Toby Freedman, M.D. 
Medical Director, California 
Medical Group 
Marina Del Rey, Ca 


Its Enough to Make You Sick is a onc- 
sided, superficial, unoriginal and sloppy 
hatchet job. It is one-sided because. in his 
haste to blame the AMA. for the physi 
cian shortage, Rapoport overlooks the 
facts that medical schoo!s today pay scant 
heed to any of the A-M.A/s pronounce- 
ments and that most schools would love 
to increase their enrollments; the limita 
tions are funds. It is superfici ise, 
in his haste to advocate prepa al 
cire, Rapoport fails to dig deeper into 
his statistics. If he did, he would have 
found that the Kaiser Medical Founda- 
tion, which he cited as a “new control on 
chi 


There are few elderly and almost no poor 
enrolled with Kaiser. and with that kind 
of patient population which eliminates 
those who need medical care the most— 
it's no wonder its statistics are superior 
In any case, what does the bureaucratic. 
politically induced ineptitude of one 
county hospital have to do with the total 
ity of American health care? And what it 
Rapoport chose the Los Angeles County 
General Hospital? There, patients re- 
ceive excellent care provided with a gr 
deal of humanity. Finally, Rapopor 

cle is sloppy because he implies that 
doctors are concerned only about money 
on the mere evidence that they receive a 
magazine that includes advertisements for 
porcelain sculptures and Caribbean vaca- 
tions. Such a charge is ridiculous on its 
face, That such ads appear in rLavnoy 
doesn't justify the conclusion that all its 
readers атс preoccupied solely with 
moncy. 


Lawrence D. Freedman, M.D, 


La Mirada, Calitornia 


Rapoport asks accusingly, “Why. has 
American life expectancy failed to in- 
crease since 19617" The answer is that 
American life expectancy, according to 
HEW figures, has increased from 70.2 
years in 1961 to 71.2 years today. I would 
also protest the author's frequent reli 
ance on innuendo or hearsay to prove his 
points. For example, he quotes a nurse 
sounding off about a millionaire sur 
geon: “Hardly a week went by when 
he didn’t take out a normal. stomach.” 


There are two things highly suspect in 
that statement by an unnamed nurse re 


garding an unnamed surgeon. One, total 
gastrectomy is a rare medical procedui 
Only an estimated 2000 а year are per 
formed nationally. Jt is difficult to 
believe that one surgeon in one commu- 
nity performs such a high percentage of 
the national total. Two, it is even more 


difficult to believe one weekly removal 
ol a normal stomach. Hospitals have tis 
suc committees that evaluate surgical pro. 
cedures, and a man with that sort of 
record would not be tolerated. Anywhere, 
Russell B. Roth, M.D., President 
American Medical Asso 

Chicago. Ilinois 
Rapoport replies: Mrs. Mitchum, Drs 
Livingston and T. Freedman may have 
second thoughts now, but the fact is that 
they were all quoted accurately. Many of 
Mis. Mitchum's statements were verified 
hy other Cook County doctors and the 
hospital administration. For example, 
the reference to the $32,000 spent on 
а Berlitz course for 30 forcign interns 
was confirmed by both the hospital's med. 
ical director and its public-relations de 
partment. Nearly all the comments made 
to me by Dr. Livingston in a one-and-a- 
half-hour interview reflected. negatively 
on Denver. doctors. Dr. Freedman is in 
error when he implies (hat his company 
pays for convalescent care. A typical 
group-practice plan covering public em- 
ployees (given to me by his firm) indicates 
that: “This plan docs not cover . . . cus- 
todial, domiciliary or convalescent care." 
Althongh the plan does pay for house 
calls, it would nat cover, say, an elderly 
widow needing round-the-clock convales- 
cent cave while recuperating from a heart 
attack. She would have to pay her con- 
valescent-home bill through other means. 
So Dr, Freedman is vight; convalescent 
care is the patients problem. Dr. L 
Freedman might well do a little digging 
himself. Kaiser most certainly does enroll 
both the aged and the poor. Three major 
independent surveys rank Kaiser's cov- 
erage and cosis number one against other 
group plans covering similar population 
groups Poor Dr. Roth. Here he is, head 
of the nation’s most important medical 
organization, and he can't even get a 
quote straight. Look again. The actual 
line was: “Hardly а week went by when 
he didn't take out a normal stomach or a 
healthy merus.” Many surgeons remove 
шеті every day and it isn’t at all unli 
ly that an uuscinpulous one would do an 
Unnecessary hysterectomy once a wech 
Many previous articles have documented 
numerous. instances of needless hysterer- 
1 the time my article went to 
press, the Department of Health, Educa 
tion and Welfare told me that American 
life expectancy was 70.2 in 1961 and 702 
in 1968. An HEW official expluincd that 
anres had “remained fairly constant 


tion 


Tomies, 


between those years” and indicated that 
later data was provisional and subject to 
change. Since publication, new statistics 
for 1969 have been released indicating 
lije expectancy is 704. That makes a 
percentage increase from 1961 of roughly 
three tenths of one percent. Dr. Roth's 
1971 number is provisional and subject 


to change. 
Ba 


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PLAYBOY 


20 


At this historic mountain winery, Paul Masson premium wines 
are aged slowly, patiently. The heritage dates back to 1852. As Paul Masson said 


many years ago: "We will sell no wine before its time!” 


Nothing good happens fast. 
Paul Masson 


TIANVANIZ 


PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


erry Christmas to all—especially 

George Orwell—írom an edict is- 
sued in 1970 by the Prague government 
and recently brought to our attention via 
a flier from Gommentary magazine: “Be- 
cause Christmas Eve falls on a Thursday, 
the day has been designated a Saturday 
for work purposes. Factories will close all 
day, with stores open a half day only. 
Friday, December 25, has been designated 
a Sunday, with both factories and stores 
open all day. Monday, December 28, will 
be a Wednesday for work purposes. 
Wednesday, December 30, will be a busi- 
ness Friday. Saturday, January 2, will be a 
Sunday, and Sunday, January 3, will be 
a Monday." 


Vogue magazine, take note: Ten- 
nessec's Lebanon Democrat recently re- 
ported on a county-fair ceremony that 
was highlighted when "a panel of judges 
picked the ten final competitors for the 
Miss Tiny Tit crown.” 


The Volunteer Army seems headed for 
trouble. In Fall River, Massachusetts, an 
area that has been plagued by high un- 
employment, Army recruiters advertised 
an enlistment bonus of 51500. A typo- 
graphical error transformed the sum to 
$15,000—and still no one responded. 

When the Johannesburg Star sent a 
correspondent all the way to Scotland to 
à ceremony at the Royal and An- 
cient Golf Club of St. Andrews, his effu- 
sive report more than justified the 
expense: "At the captain's di 
we attended, the ceremony was as impres- 
sive as I have ever witnessed. Here the 
installation of the captain is done sym- 
bolically by linking a silver golf ball to 
a silver club, along with those of all pre- 
vious captains. Then the inauguration 
is completed by the incoming captain 


ceremoniously kissing the capt: 


witnes 


ner, which 


1's balls. 


Poland is worried about its popula- 
tion, which has declined drastically since 
World War Two and is now one third 
short of the 415,000,000 that demogra- 


phers think would be ideal. Interviewed 
about this unusual situation, in an arti- 
cle datelined Warsaw, Polish sociologist 
Jerzy Piotrowski told U. P. L: “Everyone 
here wants to increase the birth rate, but 
no one knows how to do it! 

According to The Charlotte Observer, 
the vote count on a new contract for sev- 
eral postal unions was delayed because 
thousands of ballots were lost in thc 
mails. 


Since individual selfreliance is one of 
the main tenets of Republicanism, we 
weren't too surprised to learn, via the 
pages of the Jacksonville, North Caro- 
lina, Daily News, tiat one of the evens 
scheduled for a get-together of North 
Carolina Young Republicans was 
pork-pulling on the ocean front.’ 


Delphic dialog of the month, from a 
column called “How Can 17" in the Sali 
nas Californian: 

"Q. How cam I remedy a squeaking 
wooden bed? 

“A. Indeed not! Since the garnish is an 
intrinsic part of the dish, it is your privi- 
lege to eat it if you wish.” 


Germans looking for new gimmicks to 
make their parties swing are eating up 
an idea that must be the ultimate in bad 


taste. A Düsseldorf artist and local 


confectionery firm have joined forces to 
produce “desserts with a difference": im- 


itation severed heads coated with icing, 


true-to-life human embryos made of fine 
Swiss chocolate and, for the ladies, marzi- 
pan male genitalia, served with hot sauce. 

Opposing views of the work ethic 
come to us this month from merry old 
England. In Birmingham, Sydney H. 
Sherwood, after devoting his life to run 
ning an oil-Jamp-manufacturing company 
founded by his grandfather, died at the 
ge of 88. Per his request, his body was 
cremated and the ashes were scattered 
around the factory floor. Meanwhile, in 
Colchester, Bert Goodchild delivered his 
retirement speech. “This is the happiest 
day of my life,“ he told co-workers who 
had gathered to present him with a gold 
watch for 23 years of faithful service. 
“Because I won't have to come here 
in. I want no memories of this place. 
Conditions are disgraceful, and I'm glad 
to be leaving.” 


Herb Caen's syndicated column reveals 
that at a city-council meeting in San Jose, 
a citizen rose to make a few comments 


The Lombard, a Portland, Ore- 
gon, theater, has been advertising 
“tasteful hard-core adult programs 


2 


PLAYBOY 


22 


about the film Deep Throat. He was 
halted in midsentence by the mayor, who 
pointed out that this item was not on the 
agenda. "However," the mayor added 
helpfully, "you may bring it up at the 
end of the meeting, under the category of 
oral petitions." 


À headline we don't dispute, from 
The Toronto Star: "syECIAL LUBRICANT IS 
NEEDED WHEN MOUNTING RADIAL TIRES." 


Our Thomas Wolfe trophy for lite 
long windedness goes to the would-be 
robber who handed a Miami bank teller 


police arrested a 90) 


p against the wall. Grandmother: In Philadelphia, 
rarold woman on suspicion of selling, 
heroin, According to the Associated Press, she dropped 


a threatening note 1500 words long. And 
our Maxwell Perkins medal for editorial 


grace under pressure is awarded to the 
bank teller, who studied the note and 
calmly began correct 
mar, causing him to Пес. 


The Harvard 


Notes from the alumni 
Alumni Bulletin published the follow! 
letter from L. С. Fox, class of 71. “Sir 
You ask for news of me. Very well. At 
present I am in Kaiser Hospital, San 
cisco, recovering from a motoreyde ас 
dent on the Golden Gate Bridge that very 
nearly took my life. As it is, Lonly lost my 
spleen and a great deal 
of blood. This is my 

ond such accident in five 
weeks. Alter the first 
onc, I went in debt to 
the tune of $500 10 have 
my bike repaired. The 
bike is now destroyed. 1 
am employed as a teach- 
aide in San Rafacl, 
а suburb of San Е 
cisco, and I bring home 
the princely sum of $17 
a month, My indebted- 
ness from my Inst acci 
dent now cuts this 
half. Last summer my 
most prized possession, 
my hifi system, was st 
len. A lew weeks ago. the 


8 


oman I have loved for 
over a year lelt me for 
another man. On the 


other hand, people are 


three glassine packets while trying to outrun the arresting с impressed when 1 
officer, who finally nabbed her when she failed to scramble ll them I went to 
over an alley wall. . . . And the Wilmington Morning Harvard 

News reports that a 103-year-old man in Dundee, South . 


Africa, was charged with possession of marijuana, He said 
he mixed the drug with corn to use as medicine for his 
horse. The judge vemained unconvinced and gave him a 


one-month suspended sentence. 


In the town of Cen- 
tral, Alaska, lives a man 
who plays the organ and 


owns a winter home 
а nearby resort. He 
changes homes twice a 


year, taking his organ 
with him. This transfer 
has become somethi 
an event for the man's 
ighbors. In fact, 
cording to the Fair 
Daily News-Miner, “С 
tral residents know win- 
ter is setting in when 
Bill's organ moves.” 

An A.P. report from 
Rio de Janciro tells us 
that when members of 
a Brazilian exploration 
party finally made con- 
tact with isolated 
Indian tribe in the 
northern Amazon state 
of Pará, they found th: 
the tribe members were 
using pots and mirrors 


an 


stamped (in 
PEOPLE'S REF 


English) мары IN m 
mac OF CHINA. 


‘The least surprising headline of the 
month comes Irom North Carolin 
Greensboro Daily News: “VIRGISIA PRESS 
WOMEN ACCEPT. MALE MEMBERS. 


Without comment, we reprint this news 
item from the San Francisco Chronicle in 
s entirety: “Science is convinced there's 
о intelligent life in our solar system." 


DINING-DRINKING 
Lately, Chicago evenings seem to be 


filled with Greek waiters pouring brandy 
over dishes of Saganaki (fried cheese) 
and setting them afire to accompanying 
choruses of Opaa! (Hooray!). Smart Chi- 

0 money has known for a long time 
t most of the best restaurants in town 
not the steakhouses crowded with 
conventioning tool-anddie makers but 
the ethnic spots, most of them located 
outside the Loop and the chic Near 
North, many scattered to the far corners 
of the city. And no ethnic group has 
made more of an impression on the cat- 
ing habits of knowledgeable Chicagoans 
than the Greeks 

The oldest enclave of Greek restau- 
rants is located in a two-block area just 
north of the Eisenhower Expressway and 
just south of a last-ditch section famous 
for its wi ons—so you can 
forget the sightseeing. But about the 
restaurants: 

Parthenon (314 South Halsted), presided 
over by the brothers Liakonras, Chris 
nd Bill, is noteworthy for the omnipres- 
ent lamb centerstaged in the front wi 
dow as it turns on its spit. Decor is the 
usual conglomeration of murals, but the 
food is outstanding —Gyros (a barbecued 
mixture of lamb and beef served with 
slices), Greek salad, Mousaka 
(srulled n), a wide variety of 
lamb and beef main dishes, and the 
fully sweet Baklava dessert are first-rate. 
The place is usually jammed оп weck- 
ends, but once you get seated the ser 
s fast and friendly. 
The Greek Islands (766 West 


nos and n 


nd 
ppen to show up on 


nd the atmosphere is warm 
TE you hi 


when Broiled Red Snapper is on the 
menu, don’t pass up the opportunity for 
a glimpse into gourmet heaven. If they 


don't have the snapper, it might be worth 
your while to latch onto the Sea Bass, a 
more than satisfactory standin for the 
star performer. For an appetizer, we rec 
ommend the Taramosalata (a fish-roe 
spread that's on big chunks of 
eck bread); but you'll rarely go wrong 
wich anything on the menu 

Diane (310 South Halsted) is unique. 
You pass through a Greek grocery store to 


Introducing Zenith Allegro... 
the tuned sound system. 


Because deep, rich sound 
gets trapped inside a speaker, 
we gave ita Way to get out. 


The whole idea of a stereo system 
is the sound that goes in should 
come out again—as faithfully 
reproduced as possible. But with 
a lot of systems, including many 
with sealed speakers, you never 
hear some of the deep, rich bass. 
It gets trapped inside the 
speaker cabinets. 

With Zenith's new line of 
Allegro stereo systems," you'll 
hear those deep, rich sounds. 


The Woodstock, Model ES94W, Allegro 3000. 


p 


- They're 
e" m» channeled out 


of the speaker 
м)» through a unique 


opening in front 
"i b called a “tuned- 

port." Added to 

our specially- 
designed woofer and horn-type 
tweeter, this innovative design 
means remarkable efficiency. A 
60-watt Allegro system equals the 
sound performance of a 120-watt 
system with comparable size air- 
suspension speakers. By the 
same standard, in terms of size 
and efficiency, the Allegro system 
has the deepest, richest sounding 
speakers on the market today. 

There's more to the Allegro 

story, of course. Innovative 
features. 4-channel adaptability— 
just by adding a few extras. 
Many models to choose from. But 
the best part about Allegro is how 
it sounds. Once you hear it, you'll 
know what we're talking about. 


Allg 


С The quality goes in before the name goes on” 


The surprising sound of Zenith. 


“patent pending 


Once again,1OO Sweepstakes 
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you and pick the sweepstakes you'll enter. 

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‚prime rib roasts? Or a jingle of cowbells? 
There are 88 more possibilities 

In any case, any winner may change 
his mind and osk for 100 ft. of dollar 
bills ($200) instead. 

Each of our 100 winners will receive 
aletter explaining exactly what the prize 
includes, what choice there is (if any) of 
style or color or flavor, and what options 
there are on deliveries of perishable goods. 

Please read the rules carefully and 
especially note that each sweepstakes must 
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the sweepstakes number in the lower left 
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Here’s hoping you'll win your favorite 
prize from Benson & Hedges 1005, 
America's favorite cigarette break. 


atthe erry Derby" 


рена асое лоо” 


18 то. “tar.” 1.3 то. nicotine. av. per cigarette, FIC Report, Feb. 73. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
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ome N 
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I'm bent on winning the following sweepstakes and I've read the rules 
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The sweepstakes number is, and the prize i - 


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PLAYBOY 


get into the restaurant and the displ 
Ш the mouth-watering goodies is bound 
to give an edge to your appetite. Unfoi 
nately, the quality of the food in the back 
room is uneven: some nights it will be 
sensational; on others, you'll wish you'd 
stayed home, Check your horoscope first. 
Dicnns's Restourant Opoo (212 South 
Halsted), a recent spin-off from Diana's, 
took over the premises of a defunct Greck 
night club and reopened with the empl 


sis on food. The change was a therapeutic 


Phe place is big, with tables filling 

what was once the dance floor, and the 
air is one of unrestrained exuberance 
(well, isn't that what eating in a Gree! 
restaurant is all about?). The food is 
standard Greek fare, but the quality is 
well abo» And everything 


nother concentration 

ck eateries, all within a block or 

two of one another, Several of them are 
well worth a visit: 

Family House (2125 West Lawrence) is 
an ingenuously unprepossessing little 
box of a restaurant, but it is possibly the 
best Greek establishment in town. Fish is 
the specialty, with Sca Bass reigning su 
preme; it’s flown in three times a week 
from Boston. If you're adventurous, try 
the Fried Squid. There are lots of other 
goodies —Dolmades (grape leaves stulfed 
with lamb and rice), Pastitsio (pasta 
layered with ground meat and cheese and 
amel sauce). The place is usually 
"med, but everyone secms to put up 
good-naturedly with the waiting and the 
crowding, probably because the food is 
good enough to quiet the worst crank 

is (2412 West Lawrence), 
across the street from the Family House, 
leads two lives: one when food is the 
center of attraction; the other, after 
eight ram, when it becomes a frenetic dis- 
pensary of typical Greek. entertainment, 
which is loud, lively and charming—in a 
semicamp kind of way. Since someone 
has to pay for the entertainment, the 
booze prices go up accordingly. But you 
can get there carly, cat and linger over 
your coffee or Roditys and dig the early 


Grecian Psistari 


ament while your 
tab stays the same. However, you won't 
feel cheated if you miss the show: the 
food will keep you well satisfied. The 
Taramosalata, the Melivanosalata ( 
marvelous eggplant- based appetizer), the 
Pastitsio and a horde of lamb dishes make 
the Psista: recommended port of 
call—with or without bouzoukis. 

The Ambrosia Cafe (2415 West Lawrence), 
by contrast, is an oasis of silence. Quiet, 
suming and small, it still serves first- 
rate fare and h decided advantage 
(at least at this writing) of offering a little 
is more famous Gre- 
been overrun by the 


elbow room whe 


cian neighbors ha 
nvading Ostrogoths. 
Isewhere in town, a couple of places 
uphold the gustatorial honor of Athens: 
Aesops Tables (2856 North Broads 
is one of the better restaurants in wh 
has become known as New Town. a shop- 
ping haven for the Mod and would-be 
Mod. The decor is pleasantly Greek. wi 
an attempt at overall decoration that 
holds up tastefully for the most part. ‘The 
jukebox: plays an endless round of infec- 
us Greek melodies at a bearable deci 
bel count and the food, by and large. is of 
a high standard and reasonably priced. 
Nothing is truly outstanding, but the oni- 
sine is uniform enough so that whatever 
you choose, the odds are you'll enjoy it 
The Taberno (303 East Ohio). on the low- 
er level of the Time-Life Building, is a dis- 
cus throw from the Loop. Although thc 
decor is Greck, the place is rather schizo- 
phrenic The lunch menu is mostly 
American, with a few Greek dishes tossed 
in to keep the place honest. But at dinner- 
time, it blossoms forth as an almost full- 
fledged Greek restaurant. The lights are 
low, the atmosphere intimate and the 
menu delightful though limited. The 
ppetizers are particularly appealing and 
we strongly recommend the Tzatziki (yo- 
ghirt and cucumbers. well garlicked and 
nished with fried squash slices). 
Among the main courses, the Broiled 
Riganati Chicken, served in a lemon-and- 
butter sauce, is a standout. The prices are 
a bit above the Greck-restiurant norm, 
"s understandable. The 
hrent 


uranis included 
П дм. and stay open until 


MOVIES 


adapted by playwright- 
Arthur Laurents (author of 
st Side Story and Gypsy) from his own 
bestselling novel, The Way We Were is a 
cinch to score as the biggest, glossiest 
tic blockbuster of the waning mov- 
ie year. Under director Sydney (They 
Shoot Horses, Don't They?) Pollack, 
Laurents’ comedy-drama also turns out 
to be smoothly intelligent and irresistible, 


Faithfully 


mined with resonant topical references to 
showbiz, social commitment, Hollywood 
black-listing and political morality. There 
arc moments h nd there that threaten 
one’s faith in the film's integrity —when 
a viewer suspects, or begins to suspect, 
that The Way We Were is precisely the 
kind of slick, creamy Hollywood movie 
and guaranteed box-office Eldorado tha 
everyone up on the screen seems mighty 
quick to deplore. Just go with it, how- 
ever, and you'll be teased into a state of 
total surrender by the unexpectedly apt 
teamwork of Barbra Streisand and Robert 
Redford in the stellar roles—she as a 
militant New York Jewish girl with a 
head for political causes, he as a WASPish 
п Golden Boy 
whose second novel gets him to Holly- 
wood just in time to face the fear and 


and Bob play a beautifully mismatched 
loving and losing, marrying and 
g cach other from college days 
7) straight through to a bi 


(class of 
sweet parting in the Fifties. Though di 
rector Pollack lingers over the period 


са 


decor and costumes а 
if every hairdo, hit song and padded 
shoulder were a formal invitation to 
nostalgia—he is expert at juggling pro- 
vocative ideas while keeping his two 
stars in the best possible light. Red- 
Tord may not bc wholly bclievable as a 
ted novelist on the verge of selling out, 
but he is a real actor despite his collar-ad 


too fondly—as 


image and has everything it takes to be- 
come one of the s 
gods. As for Stre 
her first straight dram 
ferocious honesty 
humor, always earning the attention she 
instinctively commands. Bradford Dill- 
man, Viveca Lindfors, Patrick O'Neal 
and screen newcomer Lois Chiles are 
noticeable but noncompetitive in sup- 
porting roles. If we must have tear- 
jerkers bigger than life itself, The Way 
We Were is probably as good as they 
get—so eat your heart out. When did you 
last sce a love story in which the hon 
moon ended with a passionate political 
debate? 


Movicgoers who found Last Tango 
in Paris irredeemably offensive may 
enjoy the laundered air of Breezy, а 


The jewelry shown here is all priced between $150 and $1800. 
DeBeers. 


diamonds are a mans best friend. 


No other gift can mean as much to her as a gift of diamonds. 
Because no other gift can be so special. 

See the many beautiful pieces your jeweler has, now. 

Small or large, they're less expensive than you think. 

Make her your friend, not just for Christmas but forever. 


Diamonds make a Christmas gift of love. 


PLAYBOY 


30 


May-December romance guaranteed not 
to trouble anyone's sleep, though it may 
induce some. William Holden meets a 
hippic (movie newcomer Kay Lenz, in a 
title role that could do a girl's career 
more harm than good) from Intercourse, 
Pennsylvania, of all places. She's fond of 


stray dogs, and he's fond of privacy, espe- 
cally since his divorce. Nevertheless, she 
moves into his hillside manse. So docs 
her dog. which is shortly christened—hold 
onto your hat—Sir Love-A-Lot, That's 
just one instance of the chemistry that 
prompts this unlikely pair to coo over 
Il the wild, wonderful things that are 
i Going to the beach, 

ic dialog uul 


licved, though actor Clint Eastwood, who 
picked Breezy for his third directorial 
assignment, apparently believed every 
word. Glints judgment seemed sounder 
when he starred himself in Play Misty for 
Me and High Plains Drifter. His соп 
here are doggedly pedestrian. Maybe his. 
hos threw hi 


Business is so bad in his Parisian book- 
store that a quiet young married p 
tries switching to pornography to take up. 
the slack. The result is Le Sex Shop, 
mild topical comedy, in which writer- 
director Claude Berri again plays the 
leading role, as he did in Marry Me! 
Marry Me! The wheyfaced Berri is too 
bland a personality to carry a spoof al- 
ready suffering from sweeping unders 
ment. Sex Shop's delicate humor is 
disarming in the early scenes, with Berri 
зрак Milquetoast in a world of 
ators, peep shows, harnesses, hard- 
nd sex clubs, He's the kind of per 
sexual revolution would 


s bookish hero becomes a drag. 
ter he joins a swinging dental 
surgeon and his wife (played with knowl- 
edgeable cool by Nathalie Delon) in 
their experiments and finds himself un- 
able to conquer his middle-class hang-ups. 
The movie peters out, in a manner of 
speaking, but is enlivened mainly by one 


delightful scene between Berri aud a 
gentle dirty old man who calls himself 
pioncer collector of por efresh- 
g bit of testimony oi nality of 
ought to be required viewing for at 
least five Justices of the U.S. Supreme 
Court. 


Wire mob, cannon, stall, steer and poke 
are common terms among professional 
pickpockets and are the special language 
of Horry in Your Pocket, Hollywood's lat- 
апа least—endorsement of the rip-off 
s an all America sport. James Coburn 
plays the master thief, whose chief as- 
tant, Walter Pidgeon, is a cocaine ad 
dict and homespun philosopher when it 
comes to thievery. “God knows there 
aren't many left who really know this 
profession—it's a stable occupation in an 
unstable world,” Pidgeon wheezs, while 
training Trish Van Devere and Michael 
in as a pair of novices in the trade. 
The code of ethics set forth in Harry de- 
crees “no drugs" except. for Pidgeon— 
and “no whoring,” and expresses utter 
contempt for amateurs who "hit some 
old lady over the head and grab her 
purse.” Since the characters played quite 
capably by the co-starring foursome do 
nothing to woo audience sym; 
› it's easy to feel as coolly objective 
toward them as they [cel toward their 


ap 


victims—who arc simply marks, not real 
people being robbed of money they ma 

have earned for rent or vacations or doc- 
tors’ bills. Produced and directed by 
Bruce Geller, creator of telev n's 
Mannix and Mission: Impossible, the 
movie was shot in picturesque loca 
tions from Seattle to Salt Lake City and 
Victoria, British Columbia, with only a 
gencrous budget to set it apart from a 
misbegotten pilot. Entertainmentwisc, 
Нату ове ontestable proof that 
crime doesn’t always pay. 


Hit is a smashingly photographed, 
smartly acted tale of vengeance in the 
international drug trade. Going after the 
big guys is the name of the game, with 


Billy Dee Williams (a 1972 Oscar nomi- 
nee for Lady Sings the Blues) playing a 
Government agent who works out a bi 
zarre plot after his teenage daughter dies 
from an overdose of drugs. Instead of 

nging himself on neighborhood push- 
ers, he heads straight for the wholesalers 
of Marseilles, “sittin” out on their yachts, 
mpagne.” The hired assas- 
sius he recruits for the job of slaying a 
ım of rich, elegant Frenchmen 
walking wounded, cach with 
something to hide, Pick of the lot are a 
black man (played with plenty of zing by 
comedian Richard Pryor) whose wile 
was raped and murdered by an addict, 
plus an addicthooker who will do any- 
thing for a fix, In the latter, Gwen Welles 
(subject of a November 1972 PLAYBOY 
pictorial) puts a stamp of originality 
on her role as a tremulous waif with 
sufficient moxie to poison one drug mer- 
chant and shoot another dead with a 
weapon she packs in a thigh holster. 
Though slow in building because its 
long on exposition, and held back by a 
scene or two spelled out in baby talk, 
Hil! pays off with a massacre that evokes 
а gut reaction because it involves real 
people rather than the usual quota of 
candidates for a body count. Director 
Sidney J. Furie gives violence a human 
face, or a reasonable facsimile thercol, 
and covers occasional lapses of credibility 
with professional razzmatazz. 

The 1972 Olympic games at Munich 
are the subject of Visions of Eight, a unique 
documentary produced by David L. 
Wolper and interpreted by eight di- 
rectors—Czechoslovakia’s Milos Forman, 
Japan's Kon Ichikawa, France's Claude 
Lelouch, Russia's Juri Ozerov, America's 
Arthur Penn, West Germany's Michael 


Pileghar, England's John Schlesinger 
nd Sweden's Mai Zetterling. Such stylish 


nts bri 


bat diverse tal ng forth a film of 
predictably mixed blessings. Penn's seg- 
ment (The Highest) is a graceful and 
sympathetic study of the high-jump com- 
petition, while Ichikawa—deploying 30 
cameras and some 20,000 feet of film— 
distills the 100-met. lı into a brief 
but memorable visual essay on the pas- 
sion to win (The Fastest). The most sur- 
prising segments are The Strongest, Miss. 
Zeuerlings wry tribute to weight lifters 
and their ilk (prefaced by her remark 
that "I am not interested in sports +. 
but I am interested in obses 


hletes on the field —in speeded-up. 
or slow motion—with sleepy judges, 
an bell ringers and the oom-pa-pah 
brass band. Only Schlesinger's con- 
tribution on long-distance runners gives 
any screen time whatever to the tragedy 
of the 11 Israeli athletes who were slain 
by Arab terrorists during the Olympics. 
That offstage drama reduces even the 


rs 


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best of the film to relative insignificance. 
Rather like covering a race of toy sail- 
boats on the night the Titanic went 
down. 


Music is pre-eminent in a behind-the- 
scenes police story, Electro Glide in Blue, 
the hit of this year's Cannes Film Festival 
па a first film by 27-year-old James Wil- 
liam Guercio, a millionaire entreprencur 
whose Midas touch has proved a boon to 
such groups as Chicago and Blood, Sweat 
& Tears. As producer, director and 
composer of Electra Glide, Guercio si- 
multaneously proves his talent and dem- 
onstrates the maddening tendency of a 
very young man to express deep thoughts 
about life before he has actually learned 
a helluva lot. There are long, stilted 
monologs that appear to be Guercio's at- 
tempts at stylization, though such efforts 


often merely produce embarrassment 
and a hollow air of artiness for its own 
sake. Sct somewhere in the American 


Southwest—in a town that scems to lie in 
the awesome shadows of Monument Val 
Electra Glide studies the Ше and 
th of a young motorcycle cop who 
more than earns his stripes as a bastard 
Son of Easy Rider. Fascism, disillusion- 
ment, loneliness, murder and the death 
of the American dream all fall within the 
film's purview, so Guercio can scarcely be 
accused of thinking small. In fact, he 
dares to try virtually anything and occa- 
sionally infuses his musicalized, episodic 
drama with real poetic force. The perform- 
ance of Robert Blake (given his first big 
movie break since he played the title role 
in Tell Them Willic Boy Is Here) is vight 
on target, though there are limits to what 
an actor can accomplish in a work so rit 
ualistic. Guercio's almost fetishistic daw 


dling over inanimate objects—gleaming 
guns and buckles or polished leather—at 
times recalls the faggoty-fascist tone of 


Kenneth Angers underground classic 
Scorpio Rising, still the definitive state- 
ment on the motorcycle as a sex symbol. 
Blake, however, plays a cop who loathes 
his bike and yearns to become a detec 
tive, at least until he acquires a degree of 
insight through encounters with a bar 
maid (Jeannine Riley), an impotent 
detecave (Mitchell Ryan) and а kinky 
fellow officer (Billy "Green" Bush). 
tors, none is quite capable of meeting the 
director's frequently excessive demands. 
Visually very mannered—llashy as a 
squad cars blinding signal lights—the 
movie owes much of its panache to splen- 
did cinematography by Hall, 
most of its selfindulgent tricks to Guer- 
cio. Granted that Guercio needs season- 
ing, he looks unmistakably like a hot 
a cult. 


As ac- 


Conrad 


talent in search 


Strange how much there is in common 
between writer director Martin Scorsese's 
Mean Streets, selected for this year's New 
York Film Festival, and Ralph Bakshi's 


Share America's 
ponia 


S J Es When you head out for a Christmas 
party in the country, sometimes you 
VE find the roads aren't plowed. 
Sometimes you find there aren't 
ny roads. 

But no matter. A little snow won't 
hold you back. Not when the lodge is 
EN just around the bend. Where the fire 
is crackling, and a turkey's turning on 
the spit. 

Its atime when old friends make 
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Itsa time when all over America, 
people share the friendly taste of 
Seagrams 7 Crown. Not only as a 
gift, but in the holiday 
drinks they: serve. 


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Give Seagram's 7 Crown. 
It's America's favorite. 


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35 


PLAYBOY 


You think Brylcreem 
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You think 
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Brylcreem 
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| Brylcreem 
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\ Brylcreem 
thinks your 
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There are a lot of men whothink they look awful, and short of plastic 
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What these men dont know is that they can look better. They can style 
their hair to help correct natures mistakes. 


Your nose is too big? Your hair should be fuller on the sides. Wear your 
sideburns full too. But short. (Long sideburns only accentuate your already 
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an angle, avoiding the elongating effect back-combed hair can give a large- 
nosed face. 


Stick-out ears aren't a problem if your hairs full enough. Which means full 
enough to meet the outer limits of your ears and long enough to cover your 
eartops. Don't tuck your hair behind your ears. That only makes them stick 
out more. To train your hair over your ears, use Brylcreem Hairdressing. Its 
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your face. Then use Brylcreem Power Hold Dry Spray to keep your hair in 
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Face too long? There's something a good haircut can do for you. Have the 
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Maybe you dont have any of these problems. Maybe your problem is that 
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37 


PLAYBOY 


38 


Champagne grapes makea 
special kind of pink wine Veritas. 


Most of the grapes we use in Veritas are champagne 
grapes. The same American grapes from New York State 
that have been winning international gold medals for 
Great Western Champagne since 1867. We blend these 
grapes with other premium New York grapes for added 
dryness, for a touch of fruitiness. The result is Veritas, a 
dazzling pink American wine that goes with food, with 
friends, with anything. If you want something more 
dazzling you'll just have to drink our champagne. 


Veritas. The true American wine 
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Pleasant Valley Wine Co., Hammondsport, New York 14840. 


liveand-animation feature Heavy Traf- 
fic. Both take a hard, unblinking look 
at the urban jungle, accent 
on ethnic color. While Scorsese's is thc 
more conventional film, it far surpasses 
his work in Boxcar Bertha and b 
k to the culturally nourish 
e explored in his promis- 

„ Who's That Knocking at 
My Door? Manhattan's Liule Haly on 
the Lower East Side is the setting for a 
rambling but persuasive portait of а 
young man (Harvey Keitel) who comes 
of age in a world of smalltime hoods and 
petty rackets, Mean Streets says yes, V 
ostra—and here 
mills, sandwich shops 

and walk-up tenement flats where begin- 
ners play the games that ultimately 
rate the men [rom the boys. The hero, 
Charlie, hopes to muscle into part own- 


to keep some 
strong. emotional ties to a boyhood pal 
and born loser named Johnny Boy (Rob- 
ert De Nino, follow fine work 
in Bang the Drum Slowly with another 
socko performance) and to a pretty cpi- 
leptic cc Teresa (Amy Robinson), 
who keeps Шу satisfied, if noth- 
ing che d of stubborn loyalty 
between ems to be the only op- 

the stunted cross sec 


saved from 
r because its so 
in tone. The fi 

central 


coming a hustler, a nobody whose no- 
tions of heroism were shaped by old 
movies like Dach to Bataan and whose 
idols are John Wayne and 
sisi. Bu слеза coolly 
him, "Saint Francis didn't x 
numbers.” 


Good intentions lend intrinsic merit. 
and a degree of dignity to Running Wild, 
though scenarist produc дог Rob- 
ert McCahon’s writer and director hats 
appear to be sey 
His wobbly film 
fied by the painful earnestness of 
plea to save the wild horses of the Ameti- 


(Pat Hingle) who wants to shoot tlie 
horses and buy up Indian grazing lauds, 
despite the pa 
journalist. (Dii 
from Time ma 
Mexico and western Colorado, Runnin 
Wild gives a nod to the U. S. Dep: 
of the Interior, various horse br 
and conservation-minded groups. 
cooperation must have bee 
but it doesn't really help a 
With stilted dialog and a primitive, melo- 
dramatic plot that ends with a couple of 


If your watch takes 
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PLAYBOY 


amour amour 
TWO PARTS LOVE... 
ONE PART LEGEND 


Amour Amour 


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armed bad guys pursuing two youngsters 
across several hundred square miles of 
national monument landscapes 


Patricia Neal, Cloris Leachman, Bobby 
Darin and Ron Howard all go to pieces. 
one way or another, in а desolate New 
England coastal village in Hoppy Mother's 
Doy . . . Love, George, a thriller produced 
and directed by actor Darren. McGavin. 
The best of it is as scary as Psycho. the rest 
is a mélange of plots and subplots dug out 
mily closet fairly bursting with 
skeletons. not to mention fresh corpses 
One fringe benefit is a promising debut by 
Miss Neal's teenage daughter, Tessi Dahl 


Christopher. Mitchum (son of Robert) 
looks like a highly polished 1973 edition 
of his dad, while Olivia Hussey (ol Franco 
Zellirelli's Romeo and Juliet) must be the 
most exotic flower to bloom in moviedom 
since Merle Obe In Summertime Killer— 
all about a gangsters kid who grows up 
vowing to avenge the death of his father, 
which is as good an excuse as any to sec 
Portugal—this winsome twosome scems 
to be pitting youth and beauty against 
the underworld, the cops (mainly Karl 
Malden) and a preposterous script. The 
only conclusion reached is that young 
Chris Mitchum can probably make a 
career in films it he chooses. 

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. 
Frankweiler is the kind of wholesome fam 
ily picture that Radio City Music Hall 
combs the worid to find. Iwo precocious 
runaway children find гей in New 
York's Metropol Museum of Art, 
where they get involved with a piece ol 
Michelangelo statuary and an eccentric 
old patrones of the arts. The story's 
whimsical charm is laid on (hat thick 
unbe 


ble Ingrid Bergman enters 
with George Rose, playing the million- 
ire recluse and her buder, Thereatter, 
kid stuft becomes a holiday for two blue- 
ribbon hams. 


Recent unrest in the nation’s capital 
pears to be br the 
political satire, Made several y 


ше ol 


us ago. 
Hail! to the Chief was unreleased until long 
alter Watergate, and small wonder. Based 
ona wildly comic idea, all about a scheme 
10 assassinate a power-hungry pa 
U. S. President, the film became unexpect- 
edly topical but it's still a crude, blun- 
dering effort, outclassed in every way by 
subsequent intrigues in the same high 
places, and all for real. 

The socalled White House horrors 
take om a more literal m in The 
Werewolf of Washington, à bad movie bi 
to banish care. The late dwarf actor Mi- 
diael Dunn plays a character named Di. 
Kis, and Dean Stockwell stars as a 
Presidential press aide who gets bitten 
by a woll in Hung d 1 


lo 


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PLAYBOY 


44 


OK, you want a new camera, but 
you're confused by the hundreds of 
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First, let's assume 
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The most popular 
is the 35mm. Compact, versatile 
and shoots 20 or 36 pictures per 
roll. Within this category is the 
single lens reflex (SLR) camera 
that lets you view your subject 


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


SLR's also have through-the-lens 
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„Зоте also have through-the-lens 
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List price 327455 complete with 1/1.8 


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Forthe record. 
E 


The BSR BIO starts as a record player, a machine to spin discs and 
generate music. 

It's a pretty special machine, loaded with engineering advances, design 
innovations, and all kinds of fancy hardware that impresses even 
professional audio experts who don't impress easily. The 810 looks. 
classy, runs smoothly, keeps quiet, and is probably more reliable than 
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The 810 is all of these things; it fills many complex needs 
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behave a bit str 


ely. Writer-director 
Milton Moses Ginsberg (who made Com- 
ing Apart) is n lled nor a subtle 
atirist but does luck out with some lines 
rendered hilarious by hindsight. Official 
speculation that news of a wolfman on 
the White House staff might be leaked by 
hostile journalists “to discredit the Presi- 
dent" is topped, perhaps, by the Chief 
Executives own sober observation that 
“the Attorney General is just too honest 
Tor his own good.” 


her a 5] 


In a blighted corner of Long Island 
East River hom Manhat- 
ter, a couple of hit men wearing 
shoulder holsters fondled their weapons, 
cracked jokes and waited for a cue to pile 
у n House with guns 
ry, meanwhile, sat in- 
side at the bes table—divectly under 
framed photographs of James Cagney 
and Cary Grant—pufling a Marlboro, 
eyes closed. occasionally interrupt 
Paula Prentiss, his leading lady, as she 
hunede-dumined а rock. tune to amuse 
herself. Peter Boyle had just ordered can- 
noli and spumone and was enjoying a 


Sity. across the 


Crazy Joe—a scene that h: 
volve the gangland shoo! 
ter who has much 
the kue Joey Gallo, though Colu 
Pictures, the film's Italian director 
(01 Bitter Rice) aud scenarist 
lino are officially not talking 


chara 


Lizz 


Lewis C: 
about that 

ice Crazy Joe is his first full-fledged 
role, Boyle was feeling expan- 
d hungry, amazingly enough— 


мапіц 
[ 


after the scene was finished, so we 
repaired across the river to the more 
agreeable ambience of a popular showbiz 


y 


y called The Ginger Man, which had 
also been the setting for a sequence in 
Joc, the uncrazy comedy about a malevo- 
lent hard hat that launched Boyle's movie 
career. “This is Patrick O'Neal's place, 
Boyle he used to work here not so 
many years ago as a waiter and host, scat- 
ing people.” 

In purple shirt, baggy trousers and 
soiled sneakers—doffing the white-cotton 


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PLAYBOY 


48 


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W Pulsar® is a solid-state Time Computer? no larger 


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M Pulsar, thc world's first solid 
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Its brain is a high frequency 
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into 32,768 parts. As a result, we 
can guarantee that Pulsar will 
gain or lose no more than one 
minute a year. (Timing will be 
adjusted to this tolerance, if 
necessary.) 


Quartz is only a small part of 
the wonder of Pulsar. 


As long as the case and time 
screen remain intact, Pulsar is 
water resistant up to a depth of 
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It didn't miss a second in tests 
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fields won’t permanently dam- 
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When you press the command 
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the ruby-red time screen and stays 
on for 1.25 seconds. Continue to 
press the button and the seconds 
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Pulsar is powered by two energy 
cells that will last about a year if 
you check the time an average of 
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Pulsar is available in stainless 
steel at $275; in a 14 kt. gold- 
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Inspect Pulsar at the nearest 
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*Unprecedented 3-year 
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The performance and accuracy of 
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In the unlikely event that the 
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send it back to you within 48 hours 
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energy cells and does not apply 
module has been damaged 
abuse or accident.) 


ACTUAL SIZE 


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Шо oath, E 


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Subsidiary of HMW Industries, Inc 


For FREE literature write: PULSAR 
Box 1609. Lancaster, Pa. 17604 


In Canada: Henry Birks & Sons, Ltd. 


ing cap that often covers his bald 
te— Boyle still looks a lot like the over- 
30 blue-collar type he used to portray in 
countless TV commercials. "I had a 
whole career saying, "Ring around the 
collar, honey! and “Sa-aaay, this fried 
chicken is really good. People would 
come up to me on the street and say, 
I know you—Alka-Selver, right? You 
get tired of being known as Alka- 
Selver. . A mod: Mona Lisa smile 
confirmed that those days are done. 

“After Joe, 1 turned down some simi- 
lar roles in other films—ones that be 
came extremely successful matter of 
fact—because 1 didn't want to be 
stereotyped as an All in the Family mid- 
dle-American square. I've managed to get 
out from under that, I think. I get good 
money now. good parts." 

‘The roles he's had so far have included 
a delt cameo as an airborne religious 
fanatic in Kid Blue, a nice bit as a 
businessman shacked up 
Bergen im T. R. Baskin 
sensational, intellige . We're р 
nds: Т always try to see her when I'm 
California”) and a comic tour de force 
ady imitation of Brando 
in Jane Fonda's Steclyard Blues (“Jane 
is Very bright, extremely talented, but 
she’s always on her political trip, con- 
cerned with the content of the film 
Boyle also toured briefly with Fonda’ 
antiwar Free the Army (or Fuck the 
Army) show. 

Though it sounds like a publicist's fi 
tasy, Boyle was a monk ol the Christian 
Brothers’ order for two years in his youth. 
1 never got а taste of the brandy they 
make,” he said. But he did get a plentiful 
taste of the contemplative religious life— 
and found his true calling in showbiz. 
Which is certainly sexier. Unmarried and 
unhurried, Boyle fully appreciates the 
fringe benefits of fame. “True, women 
come on to me now. They sense my pow- 
er—and potency,” he said with a leer, 
pulling up his chest, “I have a girlfriend 
in California and New York. I 
wouldn't mind becoming a sex symbol in 
films, but I doubt that ГШ be asked. I'm 
not exactly the leading-man type, though 
I keep telling people that I see myself as 
another Leslie Howard.” 

In a more sober mood, he seems quite 
able to appreciate his work without 
undue egotripping. He felt he was 
“damn good in a nice straight part” as а 
politico with Robert Redlord in The 
Candidate, and he was. He also liked 
himself as Joe. "I was very loose, because 
I expected nothing, If it had been a big- 
budget movie, let's face it, 1 wouldn't 
have got a chance even to read for the 
part. But they took a chance on me. A 
real fluke. I figured it was just another 
quickie that would end up playing the 
grindhouses on 42nd Street." 

He hopes Crazy Joe will turn out to be 
а winner as well, yet he refrains fom 


andy is a 


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49 


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thumping the drums too vigorously 
“There's a communication problem, may 
be because the director is Italian, Strange 
I talk about what I'm trying to do, bur 
I'm not sure he reads me. 1 had to wrestle 
ith myself about accepting this project 
all. Basically, of course, it’s a rip-off 
They wanted to film the assassination 
scene at Umberto's Clam House dow 
town, where Joey Gallo was actually 
lled. I'm glad they changed their minds 
‘That would have been very bad taste, in 
my opinion." 

Discussing his next film commitment 
brings a fiendish grin to Boyle's face— 
teeth clenched, eyes bright, as if he were 
plugged into a pinball machine, “Ill be 
Young Frankenstein, for Mel Brooks. I'm 
going to play the monster, Gene Wilder 
the doctor. Wilder and Brooks are writ 
ing the script now. This has got to 
be fur-ny,” he said, sounding like an 

tor who knows he's about to make a 
Killing—one way or another. 


RECORDINGS 


The new band, ten pieces, is called the 
Caledonia Soul Orchestra, and with a 
name like that, it’s got to be good. And it 
is. Van Morrison has recently finished a 
tour with the basic group that cin be 
heard on Hard Nose the Highway (Warner 
Bros.), a mixed aftair but one that has two 
great moments. One of these is Warm 
Love, self-explanatory as to content, done 
by Van in а sort of Fifties country-rock 


g 


i 
style, with Jackie De Shannon helping 
out in the backgrounds. He echoes the 
chorus of this tune in the title number, in 
which the band comes on very strong 
even to a pseudo-Dixieland finale that 
just fits the country context. Other things 
on the album don't work so well. A heavy 
didactic slam called The Great Deception 
deals with the phonies and the plastic 
revolutionaries of “love city”; and the 
rather cute Sesame Street song, Green, 
pretty much disintegrates under 
mannered attack. Autumn Song is also 
cute but works better, as he cases off the 
rock hollers, On balance, it's a worth- 
while album with a great band, but Van 
ought to avoid straining for the cute, on 
the one hand, and the big production 
numbers on the other. 


Brenda Patterson, who paid her dues in 
пто] Pentecostal Church in 
as, and the Alabam 
e Troopers band, checked out of 
Dixie in 1972, finally arriving at Playboy 
Records, where she’s come up with a 
smashing album. She's assisted by nearly 
every rock musician worth working out 
with—Ry Cooder, Jim Horn and Chris 
Ethridge among them. Her material 
eclectic from songwriters such as Paul Si- 
mon, Jerry Lee Lewis and Johnny Otis— 
but everything works. However, it's on a 


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Then Konica introduced the first automatic-exposure pocket-sized range- 
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Now anyone can have automatic exposure 35mm photography. The profes- 
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THE MINI-SLIDE RULE—$6995! 


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traditional song, Jesus on the Mainline, 
that the full power of her voice comes 
through—rough and sweet Southern 
funky. 

Tom Paxton has never been one to 
court success. Instead of performing the 
same old songs for new audiences, he 
comes up with New Songs for Old Friends 
(Reprise), a delightful collection of bal- 
ds on all sorts of romantic notions. 
From children's songs through the permu- 
tations of love to vigorous putdowns of 
and injustice, Paxton’s honesty makes 
n totally believable, and every number 
here is a vehicle for this rare kind of sin- 
cerity. The songs are generally simple 
but with a lyric bite to them. Hobo in 
My Mind is a good modern mountain 
ballad that throws out some nice fan- 
tasies. Faces and Places is nostalgia, which 
says he haces but renders beautifully 

Neil-type song. The capper is 
When Princes Mec proletar ian ballad 
in medieval setting with. oddly enough. 
an easy Latin tango rhythm. The Princes’ 


. armor shines to shame the sun, 
They move like gods they do те- 
semble. 
All bow their necks lo iron fect 
When Princes meet. 


With this album, Tom should be win- 
ning new friends in droves. Most of these 
songs are good enough to be in anyone's 
standard repertoire. 

Imagine the gutticst kind of Ornette 
Coleman-Charlie Haden duet, and you'll 
have a fleeting idea of the music on Back 
Door (Warner Bros). Or, as the group 
describes itself, "Orneue Coleman plays 
Robert Johnson." Better yet. listen to 
Colin Hodgkinson's prodigious Fender 
bass, Ron Asperys soprano, alto and 
flute, and Tony Hicks's driving, tasteful 
drumming, and make your own compari- 
sons. These three Englishmen retired 
year to the wilds of Yorkshire, began 
playing in a 16th Century pub for a sym- 
pathetic owner named Brian Jones (no 
relation), who financed an LP pressing 
of 1000 copies and subsequently made it 
back to Ronnie Scott's jazz club in Lon 
don to rave reviews. Warner's got hold 
of the album and has issued it, without 
overdubs or any tape doctoriug. These 
short, precise, acerbic numbers are an 
absolute blast of fresh air. 

Although Roberta Маск Killing Me 
Softly with Hix Sone became an instant 
smash, the Atlantic album with the title 
Killing Me Softly has lots of other goodies 
worthy of your attention. Some are sur- 
prising—the bouncy When You Smil 
for instance, has a ragtime feel, while 
Conversation. Love is very much in the 
romanticballad genre. But the finale, 
Leonard Cohen's Suzanne, will raise the 
s on the back of your neck with that 


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PLAYBOY 


54 


HangUp (3 suiter). 
Sling it over your 
shouléeroricid 
Иза cary on youll 
cany oll n style 


Fast-Paks 
get you going 


quicker and 
cost less per mile? 
‘Swaga Bag, Ventura costs a little more than 
aa ordinary luggage because it's 
you wear made better— travels farther 
and packs more. So, in the 
long run, Ventura costs less. 
Wouldn't you rather have 
luggage that packs faster, looks 
Pues great and wears even better? 
(З suiter— plus), Sure! Thats why we take so 
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38 sizes in Mr. & Ms. open stock collection. For free “Tips on Packing” 
write. Venture, Dept. MF-2, Long Island City, N.Y. 11101. *1973. Also avallablein Canada 


h i Lace! 
AVE IT AT My DLACE: 
Whatever the occasion—a friendly "rr 
together or a serious business meeting—The 


Playboy Club lets you offer your guests the in- 
comparable atmosphere and service that have 
made it world famous. 

Choose in advance from any of our basic party plans; 
specify any special audio/visual or other facilities needed; 
then relax and enjoy the party as Playboy's professionals and 
beautiful Bunnies attend to your every wish. 

You'll see why so many of America’s leading corporations 

from Aetna Insurance to Wurlitzer Corporation—have 
turned to Playboy again and again for parties, meetings and 
important sales presentations. For full information on all 
the Playboy extras, contact your local Club’s Catering Man- 
ager or use the coupon. 


PLAYBOY CLUBS INTERNATIONAL 

Marilyn Smith, National Director of Sales—Club Division 

Playboy Building, 

919 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611 

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


COMPANY. {please print) 


ADDRESS. BUS, PHONE. 
cny. STATE. 2р. 

Playboy Clubs are located in Atlanta, Baltimore, Boston*, Chicago, 
Cincinnati, Denver, Detroit, Great Gorge at McAfee, N.J., Kansas 
City, Lake Geneva, Wis., London, Los Angeles, Miami, Montreal, 
New Orleans, New York City, Phoenix, St. Louis, San Francisco 
and in Jamaica. ‘in Massachusetts, it’s Playboy of Boston 


haunting. heartaching quality that has 
beca lack hallmark. It's only the 
best rendition ever of that much-used— 
and much-abused—song, 

Bandleader Dan Hicks, the master of 
high-class hoke, has broken up the Hot 
Licks just as they were beginning to make 
1 prominence. Dan's singular 
may have something to 
do with th up, for the band's testa- 
ment, Lest Train Hicksville . . . the Home of 
Happy Feet (Blue Thumb), has more than 
t craziness. Like all his 
hows the Licks (and the 
s dubbed, naturally, the 


jazz 
Some of 
these lyrics display serious, even schizoid 
undertones, but all are delivered in the 
slick Hicks style—not just parody or 
preciosity but with elements of both. 
Catch the Last Train while you can; it's 
a head trip. 


Mary Lou Williams has been playing 
piano for so long she's been taken for 
granted, but she has to rank as one of 
the jazz greats—a ur able musi- 
» equally remarkable woman. In 
her own quiet way, she has given jazz a 
dignity and stature some of us think it 
deserves. From the Heart (Chiaroscuro) is 
Miss Williams’ first solo album in 42 
years—ves, vou read it right, 42 y 
and it is splendid. The compositions 
all hers (she is also a composer of infinite 
talent) and the sounds that pour forth 
are extraordinary. On the same label, 
another jazz legend offers a solo piano 
session that calls for superlatives; Teddy 
Wilson / With Billie in Mind, a tribute to Lady 
Day and the tunes that. were closely asso- 
ciated with her. It’s a natural. Some of 
Holiday's best recordings were done with 
Wilson le: à wonderful collection of 
ns. There are 14 tunes, in- 
cluding What a Little Moonlight Can 
Do, Miss Brown (o You, Them There 
d Why Was I Born, all of which 
Billie owned. A fitting salute from one 
nt to another. 


no Berio's success as a composer 
ates his celebrated Sinfonia of 1968. 
Part of it was owing to the magnificent 
soprano voice of Cathy Berberian, per- 
haps the world’s greatest singer of “new 

music.” Now Berio pays her the homage 
of Recital 1 (For Cathy) (RCA). Or maybe, 
since its a multilayered, quasioperatic 
singer's torment and psychic en- 
trapment, she inspired him to it. This 
record is an astonishing foray into the 
re of musical and dramatic perf 


psychosocial aspects of con- 


cert singing and the schizophrenia of 
the protagonist—not, we presume, Miss 
Berberian in actuality. Berio conducts the 


T Uke че cou ur oles in 


Tut ет aoten bolas 
sp Creme on rusas 
sul noes land souc wort un 


Le loste on Tht Usa) 


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a Colt ina Sex Mass 
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80 PROOF. JOSE CUERVO* TEQUILA. IMPORTED ANO BOTTLED EY ©1973 HEUBLEIN, INC., HARTFORO, CONN. 


PLAYBOY 


56 


© 1972 Amity Leather Products Company 


DIRECTOR Body Billfold in brown or olive Pampas Steerhide. 
58.00. A cellectión cf other fine leathers Irom $6.00. Other Amity Body Bil 
a local Amity dealer, write Amity, West Bend, Wisconsin 53095. Also ereat 


In your hand, 
E ee EM 


UE IS DULCE S 


Slip the Body Billfold into your 
pocket and it's more than out of 
sight. Nary a lump or a bump 

shows. Thanks to Amity's Living 
Leather process that makes hide flex 
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all that flexibility, your billfold stays 
body-fitting. Your body-tailored 
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both you and your billfold stay 


io $22.50. I| unable to find 
f Rolfs fine leather accessories. 


Zodiac SSTAstrographic: 
The most accurate 
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The most exciting س‎ 


watch you can wea EA 


A watch so advanced you can see, 
feel, and hear the difference. 

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A choice of men'sand ladies’ 
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Automatic calendar with push 
button date changer. Shock and water 
resistant. Priced from $155. 
Model shown, $175. 

For more information, write to: 
Zodiac, Dept. L, 1212 Avenue of the 
Americas, New York City 10036. 


London Sinfonietta in a series of fascinat- 
ing eclectic musical procedures that rcin- 
force, counter and explain the action, 
opera style. The speech and speech sound 
events flow stream-of-consciousness style, 
both spoken and sung. If it sounds com: 
plicated, well, it is, besides being end- 
lessly interesting and, occasionally, even 
beautiful. This is Berio's richest work 
10 date. 


Don Nix sang in his Memphis church 
choir as a kid and has been making fine 
rock music for a number of years. He's 
very big on the old black bluesmen and, 
at the same time, gets into big country- 
Gospel production numbers. On Hobos, 
Heroes and Street Corner Clowns (Enterprise), 
you'll hear all these elements, and some 
standout guitar р 
When I Lay My Burden Down, for in- 
stance, is dedicated to Fred McDowell 
and features Furry Lewis, whose intro- 


the carly treat. After a few blues 
choruses, the piece builds into a mighty 
Gospel stomp, with a remixed overlay of 
vocal background and multiple pianos. 
Black Cat Moan is more consistently in 
the old style, with some fine bottleneck 
and steel guitar. In fact, Don's guitar- 
work is better than his singing, but with 
powerhouse rocking numbers like We 
Gotta Move (Keep On Rolling), we won't 
L “I have to cut what I 
"I have to satisfy myself 
first. I am really proud of my album." 
Since it's easily the best he's done, he has 
every reason to bc. 


complain at 
like,” says Ni 


an obnoxious bunch 


and Funk is 
of louts. We say that knowing full well 
that Todd Rundgren produced we're 
an American Bend (Capitol) providing 
smoother textures and some interesting 
mixes, and that it has become fashionable 
to praise the group now, as if to atone for 
its financial success. But it's still the same 
dumb, repetitive stull, which you'll hear 
in the first two tunes; and Farner, Brewer 
Schacher and new member Cr 


Numbers speak 


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PLAYBOY 


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tangible and theatrical 
ate Williamson performance 
ate may haye come in a brief scene 
from his one-man Nicol Williamson 
Late Show, with which he regaled New 
Yorkers last summer every night alter 
Uncle Vanya. In the middle of a 
mixture of pop songs and poetry, he 
denly gave an excruciating rendition of 
the last pages of Samuel Beckett's How 
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PLAYBOY 


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unusual approach, no 
use of a Midland 
only, "I may br 
convention." 

s that he is not influe 
nor even by past perfor 
saying that he has never sec 
fore he has perfor 


about his frequent 
miting 
walls of 


ik certain 


Vanya, Hamlet aud Coriolanus, which he 
is currently doing in London with the 
"Its better 


ire Company. * 
he mainta 
a director, you can be molded. You 
ach is parallel 
of thought 

Unlike some a 
he does not 


but pla 
“I never even { 
thought of doing Corio- 


lanus. Then I read it and 
uid, "I dont like it” He 
thought it over and changed his 


npletely. As he views the 
is about “a very proud man 
who is unable to shelter his pride in 
the background” as he advances in the 
government. "He's so cocksure, so in con- 
trol, so scathing about the rank and file. 
i ght-wing conservative. He 
e right of rule. 


1 of action who is marred by 
The audience should start 
out hating him." 

The difficulty in playing the role, he 
says, is for the actor “not to sympathize” 
with the character. As an actor, he must 
be prepared—in this and other roles— 
“for people to hate mc." Otherwise, he 
says, “why would I do Diary of a Mad- 
man? There's nothing likable about him. 


Hes a paranoiac, schizophrenic, mas- 
turbatory, loathsome, toadlike creature 
Yet there is something so tragic, so touch- 


ing about I 


“A lot of actors are very afraid not to 
be loved onstage. It terrifies them." He 
adds, with undiluted scorn, that "several 
well-known actors of this day and age" do 
not act but merely "vent their own per- 
sonalitics." As for Williamson, "I cer- 


ШУ u nk what I do is truthful a 


he p and 
situ Then he adds about his often 
offbeat interpretations, “I love то dare.” 


ys. "I've always had assurance on- 
ad remembers that at the begin- 
ning of his career, when he was 17, a «т 
observed about him, “The odd th 
about that lad, whenever he walks on 
stipe he reeks confidence" “That re- 
mark keeps coming back to me,” he says. 
кескі melling," and he al- 
most sniffs the air in memory. “If 1 did 
that, 1 fucking would die.” While con- 
ceding that he does appear to be confi 
dent onstage ("When you play someone 
who is impotent, that’s when you need 
the most confidence”), he adds that “I 


worry about people thinking I'm too con- 
fident. Doubt ever gnaws me. I'm driven 
to question everything 1 do." 

His career so far has been somewhat 
rocky. His films, such as The Bofors Gun 
and The Reckoning, have not been as 
widely recognized as his stagework. He 
has sometimes been criticized for his 
temperamental reputation; in one famous 
incident, he reportedly slugged David 
Merrick (“a monster, of course, but not 
a frightening one,” says the actor). But 
emboldened by the enormous success of 

Uncle Vanya and of his virtuoso 
X one-man show, and with his m: 
riage to the American cues 

Jill Townsend (who played 
s daughter in Inadmissible 

Evidence) and the re- 


to be enteri 
^ happier phase. 
good time in my lile." 
says Williamson. “I want to 
Then. of 
^] know I will make 
а few tremendous filers." Adding 
almost immediately: “But one must 
not be too hasty. I'ma growing lad.” 


BOOKS 


Gore Vidal v novel, Burr (Random. 
House), explores the “cunning pass 
and “contrived corridors” of history with 
such sceming y and case of 
style that purists and patriots are sure 
to consign the author and his work to 
the lowest circles of literary hell. Others 
less pure and patriotic will quaff it like 
new wine. Its a heady book, enli 
ened by the crash of falling idols. Th 
time is the 1830s, when young Charles 
Schuyler, a journalist, sets out to learn 
the facts and write the story of one of the 
new nation’s most controversial figures 
while he still lives. For Aaron Burr ts, i 
deed, very much alive, even flourishing, 
having just married a rich widow whose 
resources he meant to use to finance an 
other of his visionary schemes: settling 
imigrants in the Western terr 
tories. Schuyler is granted unprecedented 
access to Burr's memories and papers 
(we learn why at the end of the book), 
and these investigations devolve, natu 
rally, on the famous ducl with Hamilton 
(this part of the novel was published in 
our October issue), the no-lessfamous 
treason trial and assorted vignettes of the 
great. Washington, for example, emerges 
as vain, aristocratic and achingly dull, 
but a man so absolutely certain of his 
destiny as the first American that many 
more talented and idealistic politicians 
simply vanish in the shade of his sclf- 
ge. Jefferson is cast in the shape of 
deceit, using (save the mark!) Execut 
privilege during the Burr treason tri, 
decide, independ 


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what papers coming to him as Presi- 
dent the public interest permit to bc 
communicated." Historians will hav 
their say, no doubt, but even a mere 
reader may come to suspect the regulari- 
ty with which the author stands the hal- 
lowed on their heads, for the purpose of 
giving their clay feet such prominence. 
"The founding fathers may not have been 
gods. but neither were they clowns. Vidal 
is doing that most unhistorical thing—as 
signing narrow motives to historical fig- 
ures who may have been guided by other 
and perhaps even larger motives. Its a 
but a risk that pays off marvelously 
well in the high-grade ore of a brilliantly 
imagined work of fiction. 

Pentimento. "Ehe word 
repentance and pentimento is the term 
used to describe what sometimes happens 
s an oil painting ages and becomes trans 
parent, showing whatever the artist chose 
to put first on the canvas, then painted 
over. Lillian Hellman has chosen to look 
at her life and certain people who have. 
been a part of it over the years—often 
from childhood—as they once were and 
as they seem now after the alterations 
made by chance, by choice, by the experi- 
ence and awareness that n 
age. We all look back. We all paint over, 
but most of us do not do it yery well or 
y carefully. Perhaps we ford 
to or maybe we haven't kept track of 
ourselves, so find we haven't much to 
lı. Pentimento (Little, Brown) is 
g because it is written out of an 
intelligence and vitality that would make 
any story come alive. (This is the second 
Lillian Hellman memoir. The first was 
An Unfinished Woman, published two 
years ago.) But it is remarkable and im- 
nt because of the degree to which 
age and honesty have been made to 
stand at the core of this woman's life. 
Hellman was, as she admits, a difficult 
and unusual child. She grew up in New 
York and New Orleans among a sprawl 
of ое: 
relatives who would have made any child 
wonder. Her parents were not much help, 
either. She w 
from the beginning and would probably 
have bungled her way into some perfectly 
credible Southern nightmare il she hadn't 
been br n most and blessed with 
that feisty, hotblooded quality one looks 
for in survivors, She was always trying 
10 get to the bottom of things. to know 
who someone was beneath the paint and 
the jewels, the lies and the funny stories, 
the fear. Two old aunts, a gl s 
uncle gone to seed, a woman living with 


Italian foi 


tiss 


colorful and sometimes crazy 


„in many ways, on her own 


а gangster, a childhood friend 
Nazi Germany, a maid, a student, a 
lover—all interesting people in their 


ways, but they become unforgettable be- 
cause they have entered her life or she 
theirs, People meet in these stories, touch, 
perhaps pass out of each other's lives for 


while or for decades, but the thread 
remains, There is a good firm knot at onc 
end and the knot at the other comes for a 
reason. И may be the knowledge that 
loyalty was misplaced, It may be that the 
truth came slowly through years of mis 
understanding. Often the knot is tied 
because someone Miss Hellman has loved 
dics. She is not a sentimental woman, so 
a loss that seems almost unbearable at 
times to the reader is made bearable by 
her own acceptance. Her life has been 
painful; she has suffered and made too 


and some- 
times drunk too much and often acted 
badly or refused to act when she should 
haye. It has been all that, but much more 
It has been a life rich with humor 
warmth and loyalty and integrity 
courage, and it makes one wonder long 
before the end whether many of us, read- 
ing away in the early hours of the morn- 
ing, haven't somehow missed the boat 
completely. 


Pentimento is a very good book, written 
by a woman. But the book's importance 
has а lot more to do with art than with 
the sex of the author. At а considerably 
less sublime level are the books that set 
out to explain women in terms of the 
events of the past few years. A great deal 
of ballyhoo has accompanied the publi 
ion of A Diferent Women (Dutton), i 
which Jane Howard mixes autobiography 
with journalism in a brave and breezy 
auempt to make sense of her lite. She 
emerges as a somewhat baled feminist. 

I'm a sympathizer, a femsymp .. .” she 
concludes, “but some feminists come on so 
abrasive they alarm even me." The “dif 
ferent woman" in the title, one gathers, is 
none other than Ms, Howard—different 
because she's a 38-year-old, unmarried ca- 
reer woman; also, perhaps, because in 
the course of her investigations into 
American womanhood, her 
change. She likes women better now, she 
confesses, and she feels less apologetic 
about herself. Ms. Howard is at her wist- 
ful best when ruminating about her awk- 
ward adolescence in Illinois. “One of my 
most cringing memories is of making my 


own views 


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PLAYBOY 


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67 


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68 


self-conscious way, imprisoned in braces 

id. glasses . . . from locker to classroom. 
the way 1 would hail people by 
saying, "Excuse me: Hi." Early on she 
warns us that “The more a woman talks, 
the more mysterious and complex she 
proves to be.” Ms. Howard talks a lot: 
about her mother (“My mother and 1 
had a sure instinct for riling cach other, 
like stalking beasts in a forest”); about 
her compulsive traveling for fun, love 
and Life magazine (the Bahamas one 
day, Casablanca the next); and about 
myriad friends, roommates and people 
she has interviewed, all of whom she co- 
piously quotes, regardless of their tend- 
ency to repeat themselves and опе 
another. ‘There is no one, it appears, 
whom Ms. Howard docs not admire. One 
wishes, finally, that she had jettisoned 
the journalism and thereby salvaged the 
autobiography. 


On 


The long war between the police and 
the Mafia continues in publishing. The 
cop book and the Mob book have become 
two of the most profitable genres of the 
season. Jimmy Breslin successfully played 
one side of the street in The Gang That 
Couldn't Shoot Straight. And in his sec- 
ond novel, World Without End, Amen (Vi- 
king), he plays the other. Dermot Davey 
is a hard-drinking Irish cop who seems 
old at 29. He is on the take, married to 
a bingo-playing biddy and foursquare 
behind George Wallace. When he and 
his parmer ger imo deep uouble for 
beating up a black transvestite hustler, he 
decides to go to Ircland on a police char- 
ter. Dermot hopes to ingratiate himself 
with the police chaplain serving as tour 
escort. He also looks forward to a reunion 
with his father, whom he hasn't seen since 
childhood. But in Ireland, the world 
turns [or Dermot: He discovers his father 
is but a shell of a man, with whom he has 
nothing in common. He finds a young, 
spirited New Leftist colleen, Deidre, who 
aptures his heart and his head, until she 
comes to a sorrowful end, victim of an as. 
sassin's bullet. And Dermot returns to 
America to live out his fate—a disillu- 
sioned, grilting cop looking for the next 
score. Breslin knows what a Catholic 
boyhood and an Irish-American family 
are like, is familiar with the ways of che 
New York Gity police, down to the last 
greased palm, and has a good car for New 
York diction. But when it comes to the 
Ireland of Belfast and the Bogside and all 
the troubles, he’s out of his element; his 
characterizations become sentimental 
tions and his plot nothing more than 
unrealized Hemingway. Still, World 
Without End, Amen, for all its faults, 
represents a more ambitious attempt at 
serious writing than anything Breslin 
has attempted before, A wee solace for 
his fans. 


In Kind and Usuol Punishment (Knopf). 
Jesice Mitford turns her reportorial 


skills loose on prisons. "this shifting, 

сапе world of some 1.330.000 souls. 
| its complex of juvenile-detention 
homes, city and county jails. Federal and 
e penitentiaries.” The book is a chill 
ingly detailed series of probes. ranging 
from an analytical history of prise 
reform to such current aids to “rehabilita: 
tion" as the use on prisoners of behavior 
modification drugs and aversion therapy 
(Clockwork Orange style). Kind and 
Usual Punishment, however, is not 
limited to prison abuses. Miss Mitford 
also provides useful material on the 

growth of. prisoners-righus legisla 
tion. the beginning of prisoners’ 
unions and the chan, 


w 


ged nature 


a moratorium on all prison building, 
because, among other reasons, an over 
whelming percentage of those now in 
prison shouldn't be there at all. If, for 
example, such. present offenses as pros- 
titution, gambling, vagrancy, sexual acts 
between consenting adults aud drug use 
were made noncriminal, there would be 
no need (or new, huge facilitics. She also 
advocates that “sentences, which for most 
crimes are longer in the U.S. than in any 
other Western country," be greatly re- 
duced. There is a valuable appendix for 
readers moved to action—names and ad- 
ations and organizations 
ged in helping prisoners and liberat- 

ng the rest of us from the recidivist 
results of our present ways of 
bilitating 


cha 


* offenders. 


For readers who may have forgotten 
The Affluent Society, published 15 years 
o, or missed The New Industrial State, 
which appeared in 1967, John Kenneth 
Galbraith now puts it all together in 
one casyo-read and important volume 
Economics end the Public Purpose (Houghton 
Mifllin)—that is much more than а re- 
cycling of his earlier views, Galbraith 
maintains, first, that the American 
tion, insatiable consumption, causes more 
problems than it pretei 
second, that the verities of neoclassic 
ly, the self-balanc- 


ddic- 


Is to solve; and, 


economics—princip 
ing supply-and-demand features of the 
market system—h 
solete by the emergence of a nearly om- 
nipotent corporate technostructure. It. is 
the new class of technocrats—business 
s 


аус been rendered ob- 


executives, lawyers, scientists, engine 
and advertising men, not to mention 
economists—that manages the nation’s 
corporate wealth, decides its goals, ad- 
ministers prices and wages and comple 
ly dominates what remains of the market 
system in agriculture, retail trade and 


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small manuf: 
technostructure, 
state itself has become its “executive 
committee" How, then, to disarm the 
technostructure and remedy the many in- 
justices it routinely perpetrates against 
consumers, the poor, the environment and. 
sensible social policy in general? Here is 
has so 
convinced us of the technocracys vast 
powers that his attempt to formulate a 
program he calls the New Socialism 
sounds merely rhetorical. Why should a 
subservient the corporate 
giants? Wh cle sword can sever the 
tics that bind the defense industry to the 
defense establishment? How many leg; 
lators will vote to nationalize health, 
housing, agriculture, transportation, or 
to impose direct Government regulation 
of prices and production in the market 
system? 
cvertheless, бай 
is surely warranted: “Unequal develop- 
ment, inequality, frivolous and erratic 
ovation, environmental assault, in- 
ference to personality, power of the 
te, inflation . . . are part of the system 
as they are part of reality." If his remedy 
seems unequal to the need, it is perhaps 
only a measure of the distance we have 
yet to travel before we reach a sane and 
decent economic system. Once again, 
Galbraith points the w 
om April 1970 to December 1972, 
Philip Berrigan, a Catholic priest and 
one of the more visible and persistent 
the war in South- 
j ing taken 
part іп the destruction of draftboard 
records in Catonsville, Maryland. Widen 
the Prison Gates (Simon & Schuster), a col- 
lection of his prison writings, discloses 
that the time he served was nothing if 
not lively. When he wasn't involved in 
joining prisoners in various acts of resist- 
nce, Berrigan read and wrote. The re- 
sult is a self-portrait of a fervent rebel. 
There are explications, in contempo 
context, of passages from the Gospel 
smoldering reflections on the continu 
ance of the war despite all the civil dis- 
obedience and all the demonst 


the 


where Galbraith founders. He 


Шз indictment 


(even friendly journalists, he felt, 
get the point); analyses of Gandhi and 
of the possibilities of nonviolent 
in America; and—a recurrent motif—his 
fection for Sister El ter, 
whom, he reveals, he married in 1969. 
Despite their marriage, he considers him 
self still a priest and his wife still a nun. 
(The issue is not marriage or cel 
but 
Widen the Prison 
resting in s of entries concerning 
the Harrisburg conspiracy trial in which 
n and McAlister were among the 
ws. “Frankly. we played to the 
gly and unabashedly, 


bacy 


ature fidelity 10 the Gospel.” 
ates is particularly ar- 


s ser 


We learned to watch our decorum strictly 
-. to exude an air of confidence and 
cheerfu Berrigan’s main weakness 
i sional indulgence in facile 
“I don't hold 
much truck for those in politics, whether 
doves or hawks. Politics is about the or 
ganization of profits, and usually at the 
real expense of people" But how 
power going to be redistributed, if not 
through politics? Berrigan doesn't say. 


Hair was to hippies what The Sound of 
Music was to squares. Twentysix million 
people saw it in 22 countries and Galt 
MacDermot's score remains a major in- 
fluence in pop music. But behind the 
showbiz phenomenon, it now appears, 
lurked a sad little backstage dram: 
former Lorrie Davi 
Broadway cast (writing “with” journalist 


or at least the way she saw 
Down My Hair (Arthur Fields), subtitled 
“Two Years with the Love Rock Tribe— 


From Dawning to Downing of Aquari 
us" While the men who prospered 
making Hair a growth industry from 
1968 to 1972 will probably take issue 
with her, Miss Davis writes in a gossipy, 
epistolary style that smacks of authentic 
experience, The missionary zeal that di- 
rector Tom O'Horgan instilled into his 
young company soon dissipated, it 
seems, into onstage anarchy and offstage 
orgies of drugs and sex. According to the 
Davis report, “We were 23 talented no- 
bodies living under a flimsy veil of Love 
who had been brainwashed into thinking 
we were the harbingers of a new dawn- 
p. the Aquarian Age.” Fuel for the 
company's fast-fading illusions was sup- 
plied by management in the form of frc- 
quent injections by a quack popularly 
known as Dr. Feelgood, who said his 


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PLAYBOY 


74 


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needles contained vitamin B, Author 
Davis, a former nurse, remarks: "Dr. 
Feelgood gave his shots at eight in the 
evening. The curtain, and most of the 
cast, rose at 8:30." Racial tension, greed 
and Hair groupies were only a few of the 
problems encountered during the show's 
four-year run. Actors who were originally 
paid a pittance of $130-S155 a week re 
ceived a bonus of $1.50 per show for tak- 
ing their clothes off in the celebrated 
nude scene, and bad feclings multiplied 
when the management refused to cancel 
a performance alter the death of Lamont 
Washington, a black cast member. These 
rueful reminiscences are easy to read and 
loaded with wry social significance—a 
distillation of a Sixties dream gone sour. 


MUSIC 


When we heard ihat the New York 
Dolls—hyped as the new pervo band— 
were having a coming-out concert at 
Madison Square Garden, it seemed only 
proper to ash Chris Miller to cover it for 
us. He's been the National Lampoon's 
resident dirty young man for the past 
couple of years, and we knew he could 
raise a couple of three-dollav bills for the 
price of a ticket. His report 

So here's the deal: Society is collapsing. 
Reeling with future shock, stunned into 
semivegetablehood by the assassinations, 
massacres and assorted other bummers 
of the past decade, the current youth 
generation has turned to decadence for 
the style of its rebellion, In the Fifties, 
it was hoodiness; in the Sixties, hippie- 
ness; now, it's a Satyricon Clockwork 
Orange /life-sucks-so-who-gives-a-shit trip. 
In New York City at places called juice 
bars, vast numbers of teenagers are turn- 
ing out nightly in glitter, creepy make-up 
and weird clothes t0 take downers and 
bump into walls. They have. naturally, 
their own faverave groups—which have 
sprung from the streets and, as might be 
expected, look much like the juice-bar 
clientele. Only more so. They have names 
like the Harlots of 42nd Street, Teenage 
Lust and Ruby and the Red-necks. Con- 
sidered foremost among them are the 
New York Dolls. 

So I went to see the Dolls at their 
first aboveground concert in New York, 
and you know what? They ain’t so deca- 
dent. One of them did wear a tutu 
and another fired a blank pistol at the 
ceiling, grimaced and appeared to be 
coming. But musically, they were pretty 
good. They play loud, sloppy, exciting 
rock 'n' roll in the tradition of Chuck 
Berry and the Rolling Stones. But deca- 
dent? Nah. Their costumes and make-up 
seemed forlormly unconnected to their 
performance. They might as well have 
been dressed as gorillas or mailm 

You want decadence? I'll give you de- 
cadence, Let me form a band. It’s called 
Major Lips and the Pecholes. Major Lips 


is a huge bull dyke who plays electric 
dildo. The rest of the group is also fe- 
male, except for the bass player, whom 
No one is quite sure about, because he/ 
she performs in a full butylrubber suit 
such as they wear in the Chemical Corps 
when detoxifying nerve gas. The other 
Pecholes perform topless and have their 
nipples made up to resemble tiny fanged 
mouths, The glass heels of their platform 
shoes contain live cockroaches, which 
slowly die during the evening, 

OK. The band heralds its arrival by 
playing a loud tape of several people 
throwing up. Then, as slides of various 
afterbirths are projected onto a huge 
screen behind them, the Peeholes run 
onstage, grab their instruments and play 
irumental called Beer Farts. Now 
irs time for the entrance of the lead 
singer. The drummer does a roll and 
Major Lips plays her dildo, filling the 
auditorium with great amplified slush 
slushes, and onto the stage prances a 
high-energy (he's a Leo) gay in Puerto 
Rican drag. He is called Diarrhea Mon- 
tez. He looks like a cross between Judy 
Garland and Cesar Romero. And he his 
leprosy! So he comes running on, leaving 
itle pieces of himself in a trail behind 


him, grabs the mike and shoves it up his 
ass! Yes, he actually sticks it right up the 
old chocolate factory! And . . . it turns 
out... this is how he sings! The band 
comes in behind him and, without ever 
removing the mike. he launches into the 
Pecholes current top-ten smash, Back 
Door Sheep. And his voice isn't bad! 

But wait! They've only started! Before 
they leave the stage, they hurl dead cats 
into the audience, hawk phlegm at one 
another (while singing Sister Mucus), bite 
the heads off live chickens and murder 
three members of the audiencel Now, 
this is decadencel 

By comparison, the New York Dolls 
are a little tame theatrically. But catch 
their music. That’s a bitch. 


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| TO: PLAYBOY CLUBS INTERNATIONAL, 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, Ill. 60611 O Send the gift card to the recipient signed: H 
| | would Ike to order the Playboy Club Holiday Gilt Key with special bonuses. I | 
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1 GUI magazine (choose either one every month fer 12 consecutive months) and à — or [J I wish to present the gift personally. Send gift card to me. Н 
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THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


Believe it or not, I've fallen in love 
ith the girl next door, We've known 
‚ch other since childhood. We went to 

ior high, senior high, and then to a 
two-year college together. Now Im trans- 
ferring to another university and she will 
be transferring next year. Through all 
this time, we've been good friends. Sud- 
деу J fee] something more for her. I'm 
pretty sure she feels the same way, but we 
never get past the faces of friends. We 
cach scem to be waiting for the other to 
give the sign. We trust cach other, we 
tell each other our problems and we 
thoroughly enjoy the time spent together 
1 don't want this to be destroyed by my 
new attitude. 1 want to get serious, but 
І don't want to put my cards on the 
table before 1 know I've got the game 
beat, What do I do?—A, M., Troy, 
New York. 

Friendship is a beautiful frustration 
that can be spoiled by love, but no one 
has ever complained. Forget your history; 
a person changes a relationship by pledg- 
ing: “What we have in common 1 will 
now make different.” Don't be afraid to 
lay your cards on the table. Since you've 
been playing with the same deck for most 
of your life, she probably knows your 
hand as well as you do. We think she 
will fold. 


e 


Û share an apartment with two room- 
es. Although we have private bed- 
rooms, there is onc problem that spoils 
the fun whenever my girlfriend spends 
the night. My bed squeaks—loud enough 
to be heard through the entire apart- 
ment, even when the door is closed. Has 
ed a solution to the telltale 
bed?—R. W., Bowling Green, Ohio. 

Yes. The squeak probably originates in 
the frame; rub wax on both ends of the 
frame's side sails. This should silence the 
voice that has been announcing your 
nocturnal activities (at least lemporarily). 
The wax will wear off eventually, so be 
prepared to repeat the procedure. If 
it doesn’t work, check with the dealer 
who sold you the bed. Maybe you can 
trade your Howard Cosell Special for a 
water be 


ДА too often, after getting а young lady 
into the bedroom, I end up spending the 
ight . On the basis of my attri- 
butes, this should not be the case at all. 
1 am 24, well versed in the social ameni 
iss and J drive an expensive car. Some- 
how this does not seem to be enough. 1 
don't mean to sound as though Fm fail- 
ing completely, because I have been 
successful many times. I just become be- 
wildered when I seem to have my prey 
cornered, and then get nothing. 1 have 
been told by more ıhan one female 


companion that 1 have a most persua 
manner and that I can almost talk a girl 
into bed, where my talent surely does not 
stop. Why, then, do 1 end up with so 
many cases of cold shects?—H. S., Cape 
May, New Jersey. 

Social encounters shouldn't end up in 
a corner—even the fairest creature will 
turn, fight or flee if she senses that you 
view her as prey, yourself as hunter and 
your altributes as bait. A person who 
identifies himself with his technique (as 
you do) often fails to identify his com- 
panions as individuals. Sex should be 
mutual exploration, not unilateral ex- 
ploitation. Approach your dates as if 
they were members of an endangered 
specics (which they arc) and the quality 
of your relationships might improve. We 
won't guarantee an increase in quantity, 
but then, if you follow this advice, you'll 
forget about keeping score. 


Prior to our marriage, and for about 
three years after, my wile dressed sexy. 
While I was overseas in Vietnam, she 
dressed sexy and had an affair, She con- 
tinued to dress sexy when I came back 
from Nam. No underwear or bras or any- 
thing. She is very beautiful and built like 
crazy. Here is the problem: A year ago, 
we had a child. Now she claims that she 
s too old to dress sexy and that as a 
mother, she should be more conservative. 
How cin I persuade her to dress super- 
sexy again?—L. E., Atlanta, Georgia. 

I| your wife is more at ease in conserva- 
tive clothes, it's her right to dress ac- 
cordingly. We suggest a compromise: 
Drop the issue as far as streetwear is con- 
cerned and ask thai she look “supersexy” 
for you when you are al home. Dressing 
sexy is great, but it’s undressing sexy that 
really knocks your socks off. 


For years Ive heard stories that the 
Army has surplus World War Two 
Harley-Davidson motorcycles available 
Tor next to nothing. Supposedly, the parts 
are packed in greasc—you simply uncrate, 
clean and assemble them, then ride oft 
into the sunset. 1 am low on funds and 
in desperate need of transportation. Are 
these stories true and, if so, how do 
I get in line for onc?—J. В., La Jolla, 
California. 

The stories are true, but, as they say, 
it's a short vide into the sunset in South- 
ern California. A spokesman for the 
Department of Defense said that “motor- 
cycles are injrequently offered for sale 
und considerable time may elapse before 
you receive catalogs offering this type of 
property.” One of our staff writers has 
been waiting almost two years for news 
of these cycles. If you want to get in line, 
write: D. О.Р. Surplus Sales, P.O. Box 


"All my men wear 
English Leather. 
Every one of them? 


"All my men wear 
English Leather. . 
Every one of them” 


ORTHVALE, NJ. © 1971. 


77 


PLAYBOY 


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Playboy opens wide a new 
world of excitement 

Just for you. In Chicago. 


For reservations, call (312) PL 1-8100 
or call, toll-free, (800) 621-1116. 


919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


1370, Battle Creek, Michigan 49016. 
The bikes are not exactly bargains. 
One nonmechanic complained that his 
reincarnated Harley went (off) like a 
peanut-butter grenade (the chunkstyle 
fragmentation model). A more experi. 
enced bike freak said he arrived at a de- 
cent street machine only after he had 
thrown away a half ton of accessories and 
rebuilt the beast from the name plate out. 
You might have better luck looking for 
a motorcycle at police auctions. Check 
with town governments in your area for 
information and dates. 


Recenuy 1 have come across several 
reports that link asbestos and some forms 
of cancer. One article indicated that 
children’s balloons were coated with as 
bestos powder to kcep them from sticking 
together: fortunately, manufacturers have 
switched to a safer substance. It occurs to 
me that the condoms I use are also coated 
with a powdery substance that might be 
asbestos. Is this the ca: id should I 
start to worry about cancer?—G. F., San 
Antonio, Texas. 

Rest in peace; your safes are safe. Con- 
doms are coated with French talc, silicon 
or Iycopodium—all asbestos free. Lycopo- 
dium, the most common lubricant, is 
made from the pollen of plants that are 
found in Balkan countries and above the 
Arctic Gircle. The microscopic, perfect 
spheres of pollen function as tiny ball 
bearings to make balling bearable. 


Anatomy has always fascinated me, and 
after numerous encounters, I can say 
that curiosity has skilled the cat. How- 
ever, Last weekend I had intercourse with 
a young lady whose vagina was quite far 
underneath her. I found it so uncomfort- 
able to enter from the conventional posi- 
tion that I had to put her on her hands 
and knees for a better shot at the prize. 
This is only the second time in my 26 
years thar I have found a misplaced va 
gina, What is the medical term for this 
condition?—J. E., Scarsdale, New York 

There is no medical term for a mis 
placed vagina, because the condition 
doesn't exist. There are distinct anatomi- 
cal differences among women, bul it is 
unlikely that a woman’s vagina would be 
so placed as lo prohibit face-to-face inter- 
course—in fact, ordinarily, face-to-face 
anal intercourse is possible. 1's our guess 
that you and your partner simply were 
nol cooperating. 


Weich 1 moved imo a furnished cottage 
on Cape Cod for the winter, 1 noticed a 
c phenomenon that I hope you can 
explain. There are three barometers in 
the house—all within reasonable distance 
of one another. One. in the living room, 
registered 28.6 pounds of pressure, while 
nother, on the kitchen wall, registered 
32.5. Yet another, on the window sill 
above the kitchen sink, showed 31. 


ach 


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of the barometers appeared to be of the 
finest quality, yet each gave a different 
reading. T was unaware that such a 
uation was possible. Can you shed 
some light on it?—W. T., Provincetown, 
Massachusetts. 

As everyone knows, if you don't like 
the weather in New England, you wait 
five minutes and it will change. If it takes 
you more than five minutes to get from 
one barometer to the next, that might ex- 
plain the differences in readings. There 
15 another explanation. Barometers have 
to be calibrated when they are installed 
and recalibrated as they go out of adjust- 
ment. (The initial calibration takes into 
account the altitude at which the barom- 
eter is installed.) There should be an 
adjustment screw on the back of cach ba- 
rometer. Get an accurale reading of the 
current pressure from a reliable weather 
station and adjust the barometers to 
maich. They should remain within rea- 
sonable vange of one another for the rest 
of your stay. Good luck on your detective 
novel, 


During а Late show presentation of 
The Mask of Dimitrios ( sort of Mal. 
tese Falcon without Humphrey Bogart), 
1 heard Sydney Greenstreet offer Peter 
Lorre a cup of Algerian coffee, with the 
waming: “It takes longer to prepare, 
but 1 preter it” T cannot find a recipe 
г Alger does it exist, or was 
enstreet’s line another example of 
the cryptic references that abound in 
Warner Bros’ flicks of the Forties— 
N. B., Chicago, Illinois. 

The Algerian embassy tells us that 
Algerian coffee is essentially Turkish 
cofjee with extra sugar and lots of mil 
added after brewing. With that in 
mind, you might try rraveor Food and 
Drink Editor Thomas Mario's recipe for 
Turkish coffee: 


18 ozs. (6 demitasse cups) water 

6 heaping teaspoons Turkish coffee 

6 level teaspoons sugar (or more 

10 taste) 

Pour water into Turkish coffecpot 
(ibrik) Heat over low flame until 
water is hot but not boiling. Re- 
move from flame aud stir in coffee 
э; a foam will form on top. 
retain the foam, the cofjee 
should never be vigorously boiled. 
Return pot to flame; bring to a 
boil —but do not stir. Pour half the 
coffee among the 6 cups. Return 
pot to [lame and again very slowly 
bring to a boil. Pour balance of co]- 
fee into cups. Sip until sediment is 
reached. 


В work for a bank as a loan officer and 
about two months ago, I began an affair 
with the president’s personal. secretary 
Everything was going fine im every pos 
sible way. Then last week the bottom 


fell out, When we were about two blocks 
from her house, at a service station get 
ting gas for my car, my wife pulled up 
on the other side of the gas pump, in our 
second car. I immediately got out of the 
car and went over to my wife, and she 
wanted to know who was in the car. I 
told her who it was, said that we had just 
left a meeting and that I was just gettin 
some gas and was going to drop her oll 
at her house. We were actually heading 
for a local motel and had liquor in thc 
car as well, but my wife didn't sce it 
The experience was terrifying for both 
of us and, since then things have steadily 
gone downhill, My wife has been decided 
ly cool, if not hostile. And the girl, who is 
le and whom I genuinely adore, is 
ing second thoughts about our rela- 
tionship. 1t is also true that my position 
at work, and a very promising future 
there, could really be hurt by a scanda 
I would like to coordinate all three 
spheres of my life so that I can maintain 
the balance of excitement and success. 
How do you suggest 1 proceed?—J. T 
Augusta, Maine. 

We doubt anyone's ability to continue 
ап act like that for very long. A juggler 
who can't handle three balls should set- 
tle for two. Make the choices now or you 
may be left with nothing. Remember 
that no one ever paid to sce a juggler 
without any balls. 


С.си through a magazine recently, 
I noticed that onc of the models had по 
nipples. I asked my boylriend what had 
happened to them. He looked at me in 
astonishment and said. “You me 
still haye both of your nipples?” He told 
me that a woman's nipples are ofte 
moved by a man in the heat of passion 
and that one person he knows used to 
have a whole jarful. They looked like 
dried ots. I told him that this was 
ridiculous, but because my experience is 
limited, Um not really sure, What do you 
say2—Miss F. R., Iowa Cit 

The model whose picture you saw may 
have been the victim of a careless airbrush 
or an overreaction to a Supreme Court 
decision. Possibly, she had inverted nip. 
ples. Tell your boyfriend that one erag 
enous zone is as vulnerable as the next 
and that you know a gil who has a jar 
full of what appear to be mushrooms. 
That should make him bite his tongue- 
incheck. 


1 re- 


AU reasonable questions—from fash 
ion, food and drink, stereo and sporis cars 
to dating dilemmas, taste and etiquetle— 
will be personally answered if the writer 
includes a stamped, self-addressed en- 
velope. Send all letters to The Playboy 
Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 N. Michi 
gan Ave, Chicago, Hlinois 60611. The 
most provocative, pertinent queries will 
be presented on these pages each month. 


The 8:40 aam. Grand Prix. 


This is one automobile event just about 
everybody participates in. 

The course runs several tortuous miles 
from home to work. It's an obstacle course. 
Filled with practically everybody else in 
town also scrambling to get to work by 9. 

But just as Monaco has its Formula 1 
car, there is also a specially built car for 
your 8:40 a.m.Grand Prix. 

The Honda Civic™ 

The Honda has everything you need to 
fight the freeways. Front wheel drive, rack- 


and-pinion steering, front disc brakes, four 


wheel independent suspension, 
and a peppy overhead cam 
engine that gets up to 30 miles 
to a gallon of regular. 

April Road Test Magazine 
said it all: “Now...there is anew 
commuter car on the market; 
one which is large enough to be 
fairly comfortable, small 
enough to maneuver through 
rush hour traffic, gutsy enough 
to cruise at freeway speeds, 
and economical enough to oper- 
ate all week on one tank of gas. 

This amazing little vehicle 
is the Honda Civic? 

“Clearly the automobile has 


©1973 American Honda Motor CO., Inc. 


it all; it provides the most immediately 
viable solution to our traffic problems and 
does this with comfort, performance, 
economy, and low price. For center city 
commuters, Honda Civic is the car of 
the future. And it's here now? 

Well, it's 5 p.m., and we're off and 
running again. 

Gentlemen, start your engines. 


The New Honda Civic 


It will get you where you're going. 


PLAYEOY 


82 


TOMSHAW __ 
mpion 1969 


п 1969 


“I wear 
Sansabelt® 
slacks 
6 days a week... 
and sometimes 
twice on Sunday!” 


“Yes, I'm rough on slac) 
Shaw. four-time professional golf 
champion. “That's why my first con- 
sideration in clothes is quality!” 

Playing forty tournaments a year 
and practicing three hours a day, Tom. 
like all golf professionals, not only 
must hit well but must look well оп 
thecourse and off. 

So take a tip from Tom. Check out 
a pair of Sansabelt Slacks by Jaymar. 
You'll find a fantastic selection of pat- 
terns and colors in Jaymar's No-Quit 
Knits of 100% Dacron®, the big name 
polyester. All designed with the 
Jaymar look. tailored with Jaymar's 
quality touch. Try on a pair of 
Sansabelt Slacks today. You'll look 
great for all 19 holes. Jaymar-Ruby. 
Inc., Michigan City, Indiana 46360. 


says Tom 


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ек Henr Al Stores 
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Elle Ey Maurice L Rothschild 
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THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


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


ONE-WOMAN SEX SURVEY 
It strikes me as asinine that a woman 
with only two years of sexual experience, 
such as the person whose letter titled 
The Bumbling Male” appeared in the 
September Playboy Forum, would pre- 
sume to generalize about the entire male 
sex. Yet she feels free to state, “I've come 
to certain conclusions about men: (1) 
only five percent really care whether or 
not the woman comes; (2) another 20 
percent are decent fucks; (3) an appal 
ing 75 percent totally ignore the clitoris, 
probably don't know what itis. . . .” 

In the past two yea ve slept with 
five women, none of whom performed 
fellatio on me, none of whom 1 made 
anal love to, only two of whom would 
pennit me to perform cunnilingus on 
them, and none of whom asked me if I 
had been satisfied or not (satisfaction to 
me being more than just getting my rocks 
off). I have turned down, and have been 
tumed down by, many others. Given 
those experiences, I suppose I should say 
that 100 percent of women do not parti 
ipate in fel and anal sex and do not 
cure whether or not the man has bee 
ishied, only 40 percent like cui 
nd an appallingly high percentage of 
women do not care to experience any- 
thing sexually. 

If this girl slept with very few m 


her 
But. 
even if she's gone to bed with 100 or 
more in her two years—an average of 
about one lover a week—her statements 
are still absurd, It t 
night or a one-week s 


nd to learn anoth- 
er person's sexual idiosyncrasies, desires, 


tum-ofls and value system. Nobody 
makes 100 friends in two years, much less 
finds that many good bed partners. I 


doubt that this girl could have been 
friendly and enthusiastic with so many 
men. From the tone of her letter, I would 
suspect. she's the sort who often just lies 
there with a critical, hostile showanc 
attitude, 

J know lots of men are clods, but 
women who behave like sexual croco- 
diles—voracious sometimes and lying 
there like logs the rest of the time—de- 
serve no better. 

(Name withheld by request) 
Merritt, British Columbia 


The woman who asserted that 75 per- 
cent of all men are sexual bumblers who 
don't know anything about clitoral stim- 


ulation must lead one hell of an active 
sex life. I mean, that kind of wild gen- 
eralization requires a lot of experience 
and she says she's been screwing for only 
two years! 

Let's assume for the moment, though, 
that she knows what she’s talking about. 
If men are as ignorant as she claims 


about female sexuality, complaining 
won't help her. The answer to ignorance 
is education; if she would just take time 


either to explain what she likes or to 
place the guy's hand on the spot where it 
feels best, he'd probably learn willingly 
and quickly how to please her. The fact 
„ most men do care whether or not their 
partners come, if only because it increases. 
their own enjoyment. 
Actually, 1 think that this frustrated fe- 
male’s assessment of three fourths of 
males as “easy come, easy go” is a Iot of 
crap, and reflects her problem, not the 
. She's probably one of those bum- 
bling broads who expect every man they 
screw to know what turns them on by 
telepathy or something. 

D. Crawford 

Chicago, Illinois 


PENIS-SIZE HANG-UPS 

‘The discussion of penis size in the Au- 
gust Playboy Forum, where readers tricd 
to defend underdeveloped men by assert- 
ing that only their performance matters 
to a woman, is interesting but foolish. OL 
course a woman prefers a well-hung man 
to one who is less fully endowed! Every 
woman with whom I have had sexual re- 
lations—and there have been many over 
the years—has commented on the size of 
my penis and has enjoyed every centimc- 
ter of it. Women are basically submissive 
and seck a feeling of being ravished, and. 
the penis, the stronger this 


Peter Torge 
Los Angeles, California 
There are two possibilities: (1) your 
experience with women is limited to those 
who are turned on by big penises, or (2) 
your experience with women is limited to 
those who know how to puff up your ego. 


T'm 58 years old and in the past quarter 
century or so I've enjoyed women in 
many different parts of the country. 
From all 1 can determine, my penis is 
below average in size, yet none of my 
sexual partners has ever mentioned this. 
I attribute my success in bed to having 


TM 


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85 


PLAYBOY 


86 


been taught about sexuality by a group of 
prostitutes when 1 was in my late teens. 
ГІ forever be grateful to those ladies. I 
advise men with penissize hang-ups to 
develop their sex techniques and to apply 
them without inhibition. Of course this 
includes the usc of oral sex. If this last 
is properly performed, when it comes 
time to put the penis in the vagi 
could well be the Jolly Green 
all your partner would care 
(Name withheld by request) 
Houston, Texas 


HOW TO HANDLE A WOMAN 
From what Рус read of The Playboy 
Forum's correspondence on impotence, it 
scems that surprisingly few people know 
that an erect penis is not essential i 
order to satisfy а woman. Vaginal stimu 
lation actually plays a very minor role in 
bringing her to orgasm. Physiologically, 
the clitoris is the center of erotic sensa- 
n and clitoral stimulation is basic to 
most women's climas. Thus, the intr: 
vaginal movement of the penis during 
intercourse is of incidental importance— 
10 the woman, anyway—compared with 
stimulation of the clitoris, which normal- 
ly occurs concurrently. In fact, о 
al or other types of stimulati 
often quite superior in their 
satisfy a woman sexually. 

A man who, even though impotent, 
knows the value of such techniques will 
stand a good chance of giving his partner 
a satistying roll in the hay without ever 
bringing his penis into the act. Indeed, 
usc of untimely flaccidity 
is fear of not performing up to some 
ndard, the discovery that an erection 
is not a sine qua non for performance 
may solve a man’s problem of impotence. 

Robin M. Lake 
Houston, Tex 


MECHANICAL MASTURBATOR 

1 was appalled by the letter from the 
man in Baule Creek, Michigan, who 
writes that he includes "masturbation 
with shaving and showering as standard 
preparation for a date" (The Playboy 
Forum, September). To me, sex must 
mean something. Even masturbation can 
mean something: For the adolescent boy 
bedeviled by preachers, it can be exci 
ingly sinful and depraved—a rebellious 
ct. For the older mai tion can 
1 the 
absence of a suitable partner. But to 
treat an ejaculation as something to be 
out of the way, so as to improve 
your timing in bed later on, is to cheapen 
sex and turn yoursel into a kind of 
mechanical man. 


J- Graham 
Indianapolis, Indiana 


THE PAINS OF LOVE 
very tired of people declaring 
there's something neurotic about a desire 
to be bound or spanked as a prelude to, 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


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


ANTLSEX DRUG 
LONDON—A new drug that reduces or, 
in some cases, abolishes sexual desire 
has been tested in British clinics and 
marketed as a prescription medication. 
According to researchers, the drug, ben- 
peridol, has been used successfully in the 
treatment of compulsive sex offenders. 


PASSIONATE PATIENTS 

Loxbos— The British Medical Defense 
Union has set up a central “passion” file 
оп amorous women patients to help pro 
tect doctors against unfounded charges 
of sexual misconduct. The file contains 


letters and gifts sent to doctors by women 
fantasizing love affairs. The union ve. 
ports that this is a growing phenomenon 
among middle-aged, middle-class women 
and that some, when their advances are 
their doctors of at- 
tempting to seduce them. 


nol returned, accus 


FROM SAUNA TO SEX 

ANAHEIM, CALIFORNIA—A 46-year-old 
mother of eight children has sued a health 
club in Orange for $1,000,000 damages, 
alleging that she was trapped and burned 
in a sauna bath and that the traumatic 
perience has made her sexually pro- 
miscuous against the dictates of her con- 
science, The suit states that her injuries 
caused her to develop two warring per- 
sonalities—one that of a sexually hungry 
and compulsive woman who has sought 
out men in bays, and the other that of a 
guilt-ridden mother who bitterly regrets 
her actions and her infidelity to her hus- 
band. The woman's attorney, in a similar 
case in 1970, won a $50,000 judgment for 
a San Francisco typist whose serious in- 
juries їп a cable-car accident were found 
by a jury to have caused a profound sense 
of insecurity that manifested itself in an 
insatiable need [or sex. 


A DOSE FOR A DOSE 

A new prescription drug—tested and 
marketed but not yet widely available 
appears 10 be highly effective against 
gonorrhea, The U. S. Public Health Serv- 
ice describes the medication as a liquid 
combination of ampicillin and probene 
cid that is taken orally, works in 48 hours, 
has а 90 percent cure rate per single dose 
and causes no unpleasant side effects 
when used as recommended. One phar 
maceutical company is already manufac 
turing the drug under the trade name 
Polycillin TRB. Another has applied to 
the Food and Drug Administration to 
produce the drug under the name Glapi- 
cillin. The medication was originally 
administered in nine large and foul-tast- 
ing tablets per dose, but the liquid form, 
according to one drug-company spokes- 
“tastes! so good is атой a 
pleasure getting the disease.” A Chicago 
V. D. expert wryly observed, "Getting it 
has always been a pleasure; getting rid of 
it has been the problem.” 


man, 


HAZARDOUS DUTY 

WASHINGTON, D.c—About 1800 volun- 
teers from the aircraft carrier U.S. S. 
Hancock are helping the Navy test a new 
anti-V. D. pill and provide bacteriological 
data toward developing a vaccine against 
gonorrhea. The sailors agreed to undergo 
detailed physical exams before and after 
the carrier stopped at Subic Bay Naval 
Base in the Philippine Islands and to те- 
port any sexual contact they had while 
ashore. Navy Department officials, fear 
ful that the research might be construed 
as encouraging sailors to visit prostitutes, 
said that “All the men on the ship were 
cautioned before arriving at Subic of the 
hazards of V. D. and advised thal the only 
safe way to avoid V. D. is to avoid sexual 
contact.” They added, however, that an 
aircraft carrier is isolated at sea for long 
periods of lime, and that a port call com 
pled with close medical surveillance of 
local prostitutes provide ideal conditions 
for studying the military's V. D. problem 


TEXAS TRAGEDY 

LA GRANGE, TEXAS—The oldest whore- 
house in Texas, and possibly in the coun- 
Iry, has been closed by order of Governor 
Dolph Briscoe, over strong protests from 
the community and the county sheriff. 
Edna’s Fashionable Ranch Boarding 
House dated back lo 1844, when Texas 
was an independent republic; it acquired 
iüs popular nickname—the Chicken 
Ranch—during the Depression when the 


young men of central Texas paid for 
their pleasure with chickens and other 
livestock. Sheriff Jim Flournoy, a 70-year- 
old former Texas Ranger, initially re- 
fused to close the brothel, stating: “It’s 
been here all my life and all my daddy's 


life and never caused anyhody any 
trouble. . . . My constituents want it 
there. If the people didn't like the way I 
ran the county, I wouldn't be around. 
He finally capitulated when the governor 
threatened to send in state police, but he 
joined the local newspaper publisher and 
other citizens in defending the Chicken 
Ranch as a community asset that kept 
down crime, attracted business and 
erously supported civic projects. Dr. Joe 
B. Frantz, a prominent historian at the 
University of Texas at Austin, also la 
mented the closing: “It was one of the 
few reputable places where a young work 
ing girl could meet many of the state's 
most successful businessmen, professional 
people and politicians, and get to know 
them—in the Biblical sense.” 


LAVENDER PANTHERS 

SAN FRANCISCO—Charging police indij- 
ference to crimes a; 
San. Francisco Gay Alliance has called a 
news conference to announce the organi- 
zation of a defense 
group called the 
Lavender Pan- 
thers. According to 
the alliance chair- 
man, the Reverend 
Ray Broshears, the 
gay panthers will 
operate in three- 
man squads, pos- 
sibly armed with 
sawed-off pool cues, 
patrolling the are- 
us of the city where 
most of the mur- | 
devs and beatings of homosexuals have 
occurred. He urged gays to keep rifles 
and pistols in their homes and businesses 
and to carry aerosol cans of ved paint to 
spray at any attackers. 


ainst homosexuals, the 


POT LAWS ATTACKED 

WASHINGTON, D.c.—A class-action law- 
suit charging that Federal marijuana laws 
are unconstitulional on several grounds 
has been filed in U.S. District Court in 
Washington, D.C., by the National Or- 
ganization for the Reform of Mavijuana 
Laws (NORML) The suit. petitions the 
court to convene a three-judge Federal 
panel to rule on Federal laws (and, by 
extension, state and local statutes) against 
the simple possession and personal use of 
pot. It charges that existing laws invade 
privacy and violate other civil rights of 
adult citizens and cannot be constitu- 
tionally justified on grounds of any com- 
pelling state interest or public need. The 
NORML case is being argued by former 
U.S. Attorney General Ramsey Clark 
who secenily joined the organization's 
advisory board. 


HOPHEADS 

SACRAMENTO, CALIFORNIA—State nar- 
coties officials are studying reports that 
some of the state's illegal marijuana 
growers are trying to cross pot with hops 
to develop a new and legal psychedelic 
weed. At least in theory, the grafting of 
hop shoots to Cannabis roots would result 
ina hap plant whose leaves contain THC, 
the active ingredient in marijuana. A 
narcotics official said, "It sounds like a 
horticultural put-on to me, but Pm going 
го have my area office look into it” 


SO MUCH FOR SCIENCE 

NEW YORK—A group of sociologists 
who served on various national commis. 
sions charged that their findings and ree- 
ommendations have been consisientl 
rejected or ignored by all three branches 
of the Government, usually for political 
reasons. At a news conference during the 
annual meeting of the American Sociolog- 
ical Association, former members of the 
Federal commissions on crime, pornogra 
phy, population and the causes of 
violence warned that the Government's 
unresponsiveness 10 research may make 
й difficult 10 recruit social scientists for 
such projects in the future. Dr. Otto N. 
Larsen of the University of Washington 
described the fate of the commission he 
directed: “The Commission on Obscen- 
йу and Pornography was conceived in 
Congress, born in the White House and. 
after 27 months of life, was buried with- 
out honor by both parent institutions 
He said it was denounced by some Con- 
gressmen, rejected. by the President and 
ignored by the U.S. Supreme Court, 
which took a completely contrary posi- 
tion in support of stricter pornography 
laws and cited only the commission's dis- 
senters in ils recent series of obscenity 
decisions, 


or during, intercourse. They say it’s an 
indication of guilt feelings or something. 
If bondage people and spankers were ex- 
cessively susceptible to guilt, how could 
they enjoy a form of sex that is generally 
condemned as perverse? 

In these days of women's liberation, 
it's difficult for many to realize that some 
women are most aroused by a male who 
can subdue them completely. Such women 
simply enjoy the passive role. I would nor 
try to speak for others, but 1 like this role 
because my helplessness is all that is re 
quired of me to please my partner, ak 
lowing me to concentrate on my own 
sensations, 

As for spanking, it is titillating. not 
painful, when done as part of sex. 1 have 
been spanked, even whipped and caned 
when aroused and have not been aware 
of how strong the blows were until 1 
bruises the next day. Yet on one occasion 
when my husband spanked me in ange 
it hurt like blazes. 

1 just wish people who don't enjoy 
bondage and discipline would stop cri 
cizing those who do. 

(Name withheld by request) 
Golden, Colorado: 


FEMALE POLYGAMY 
It is sexism to daim, as Pepper 
tz does (The Playboy Forum, 
July), that since a woman's sex drive is 
equal to or greater than a man's, no one 
man can satisfy a woman. Miss Schwartz 
states that "few husbands make lo 
their wives more than twice a week, 
rarely docs the time of penetration exceed 
hve minutes.” On the other hand, how 
many husbands might complain that their 
wives show no enthusiasm? Since the prob- 
lem of sexua slaction affects both 
sexes, Ier's try to solve it together 
Paul G Lowell 


PHILOSOPHICAL PROBLEM 

My husband and I have a good mar- 
riage, totally open and without decep- 
tion. We encourage cach other's outside 
personal relationships. both sexual and 
nonsexual. We believe that with sharin 
and openness, there is no reason for ¡cal 
ousy: however, it is not to find 
people who agree with this philosophy. 
Sometimes I catch myself hiding the fact 
that I'm married from a new acquait 
псе—а practice that gocs against the 


honesty I believe in so strongly, but one 
that 


seems the only way to develop 
ps with other men. When I do. 
admit that Vm married, men either don't 
believe that I still consider myself free— 
even after I've preached my bel 
them for hours—or else they think Fm 
nut who wants to create a situation th 
could lead to violence. I thought 1 had 
one guy convinced and even intrigued. 
But he called twice and my husband an- 
swered each time and he immediately 
hung up. He must have thought J had 


87 


PLAYBOY 


BB 


been lying to him all along, for what pur- 
pose I can't imagine. 

When I look about me and scc millions 
of uptight couples locked into marriages 
that are sexual prisons, I see a power- 
hungry need to possess another human. 
being in the name of love. I thought love 
meant unselfishness and wanting the 
other person to be happy. 1, for one, 
want my husband to experience other 
sexual partners and to bring home new 
experiences, new confidence and new 
faction. And if someday he should 
find someone he wants to stay with, I 
would be very unhappy for myself, but 
very happy for him. 


Patricia Bond 
Denver, Colorado 


ST. JAMES VS. SAINT PAUL 

In civilizations such as those of Baby- 
lon and Egypt, the temple prostitute per 
formed a sacred function and was held in 
high regard; even later, in Greece and 
Rome, the courtesan was a woman of es- 
teem, often the he 
piration of great philosophers and art- 
ists. When Saint Paul introduced prud- 
ery into Western consciousness, all 
this changed and the whore became an 
object of contempt and the victim of 


persecution. 
An attempt to restore human dignity 
to the women of this profession has been 


organized by Margo St. James of San 
Francisco, under the name Covote—A 
Loose Women’s Org У 
26354, San Francisco, C: a 94126). 
Its aims are the same as these of the 
original labor unions, or the c 
movement or women's liberation—to se- 
cure safety from oppression and to pro- 
mote traditional civil rights and liberties, 
common decency and justice. 

As many have pointed out, prostitu- 
tion is a crime without victims—a totally 
voluntary relationship—that would not 
be a crime at all in a rational society. In 
this country, we not only make ita crime 
but also we enforce the law selectively: 
Except in very rare cases, where the po- 
lice or D.A. is trying to make headlines, 
the customers are never arrested or har- 
assed, but the prostitutes are subjected to 
these indignities constantly. As Miss St. 
James says, “Some radical changes are 
now due,” 

In this age of the Linda Lovelace cult, 
pot smoking, wid 
enhancement techniques from sensual 
massages to yoga, vibrators, nude 
beaches, Masters and Johnson and con- 
nued success for PLAYBOY, there must be 
millions of us who believe in the right to. 
joy and the wholesomeness of ecstasy. IE 
we don’t allow the puritan swing of the 
Nixon Supreme Court to depress us, we 
can force our legislators and police to 
give prostitutes at least as much y 
as plumbers or chiropractors. In my 
opinion, these ladies probably do more 
than all the М.О» and psychiatrists in 


the couniry to reduce rape, prevent neu- 
roses and ulcers, relieve the body, calm 
the mind and generally slow down our 
descent into mass hysteria. It is time they 
stopped being the scapegoats for every 


prude, puritan, h hunting D.A. 
and vice cop with a gr 

A. Clark 

Los Angeles, California 


POLICE AS PROSTITUTES 

One day in 1971, two consenting 
adults participated in a sex act for about 
15 minutes. Both got paid for it. ‘There 
as no audience. The case may wind up 
the U.S. Supreme Court with a re- 
quest that it decide whether or not pros- 
titution really is a crime that can be 
committed only by women. 

Boise, Idaho, like many other citi 
has massage parlors that provide the serv- 
ices of prostitutes. The head of the city's 
vice squad wanted to close down these 
parlors. To do it, he hired several men 
to work as undercover police agents. 

One of the men went toa 
lor a 
as recorded in a transcript of the trial, 
he quickly let the young woman working 
on him know that he wanted more than 
а massage: 

She told me I was a naughty boy 
and did T have something else in 
mind. I got up at that point and she 
approached me and I said. "Every- 
thing.” She asked me what I meant 
by that, and 1 mdicated a trip 
around the world. 


After agreeing to a price of $20, the 
young woman stripped and once again ap- 
proached the police agent. ‘The testimony 
continucs: 


She then came to me and as I had 
sat up the towel had fallen from me, 
of course, and she took hold of my 
organ and shook it and said, “That's 
pretty bad, TH have to do something 
about that," asked me to lie down 
and proceeded with oral copulation. 


The girl worked on him as best 
she could for ten to 15 minutes, with 
Then he arrested her for 


no success. 


convicted. Her attorney ar- 
gued that the agent was also a prostitute, 
because he, too, had sold his body for sex- 
1 purposes, the only difference being 
that he got paid by the taxpayers. 

A district judge ruled st the de- 
fendant, but added that the police spy's 
conduct "shocked ihe conscience." He 
said that any woman of adult years and 
sound mind who contracted for а пір 
around the world was a common prosti 
tute in the legal meaning of the te 
and it was not necessary for the police 
man to take the trip in order to prove h 
case. The defendant's attorney is plan- 
ning to appeal and will take the case to 
the Supreme Court, if need be. 

This man was not the only undercover 


agent who could not bring his service to 
a satisfactory conclusion. A second mas- 
sage girl said she was with another police- 
man and had used three tried-and-true 
techniques to finish the job, to no avail. 
When he arrested her, she said, she sus- 
pected it was out of frustration as much 
as anything. 

The vice-squad head objected to hav 
ing the trial held in open court because 
he didn't want his agent to be identified 
publicly. In the first place, he felt that 
the man’s wife might not understand— 
she hadn't known how he eaming 
extra money. And secondly, the police 
did not want anything to happen that 
would—aliem—blow their spy's cover. 

Dwight Jensen 
Pocatello, Idaho 


GRATUITOUS SLAP. 

A letter in the September Playboy 
Forum neatly cut down Texas high 
school coach Tony Simpson's condemna- 
tion of long-haired athletes, but it failed 


to mention the gratuitous slap at women 


contained in Simpson's tirade, He said 
thar men are superior to women, that the 
Bible supports this view and that athletes 
with long hai authority 
over women but are treating them as 
equals. 

What this has to do with athletics I 
don't know, except that in bedroom 
sports, as elsewhere, failure to treat 
women as equals is becoming incrcasing- 
ly hazardous. T suspect that coach Simp- 
son succeeded not only in alienating 
athletes who would rather be judged on 

an appearance but also 
g up their mothers and sisters 


as well. 
Harold C. Luckstone, Jr. 
Forest Hills, New York 


EQUAL TIME FOR PARTHENOGENESIS 
An item in the September Forum 
Newsfront mentions a new Tenses 
see law that would require public school- 
teachers to give equal ti ! 
and. other religious accounts of creation 
when they present the theory of evolu- 
tion. The pious legislators who have 
passed this bill might be inspired to 
even greater idiocy by a tongue-in-cheek 
editorial in the March 1973 National 
Lampoon. which suggests that, in the 
terest of bein to religion, science 
textbooks should also present the theory 
that the earth is flat and the sun revolves 
around it, the idea that lunacy is caused 
by demonic possession and “a detailed 
explanation, preferably with diagrams, 
of the fascinating mechanisms involved 
in virgin birth.” 
B. A. Head 
West Palm Beach, Florida 


fa 


TEST OF THE TRUTH 

I have long been a philosophical rela- 
tivist, rejecting the opi that there 
is such a thing as objective truth anc 
that science is the final authority for 


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Q PIONEER’ 


when you want something better 


PLAYBOY 


so 


ng. I believe that each of us lives 
erse of his own creation and that 
true for you may not be true 


Imagine my surprise to find support 
for this position in Nixon's Supreme 
Court! There it is, in Paris Adult Thea- 
tre us. Slaton, in which the Court holds 
that lawmakers need not be guided by 
scientific evidence and says that if they 
want to believe pornography is harmful, 
they may do so, adding, “From the b 
ng of civilized societies, legislators and. 
us unprovable 


There's just one catch in this philo- 
al position that the Nixon-ap- 
pointed authoritarians may not like so 
much: It happens that the assumption 
that pornog harmful, while it 
may be пи ixon, Burger and 
g Jr. is not true for 
me or for many others like me. There- 
fore, the only justification for laws 
against obscenity is that those who ap: 
prove them have the bigger guns on their 
ind this is tyranny. The only 
tic solution to this dilemma is to 
grant that the individual is the only 
person who has a right to decide if por- 
nography is harmful for him, and the 
Government has no business in this area. 

J. Green 

New York, New York 


THE COURT AND OBSCENITY 
Ik Gud fur d preme Courts 
ns on pornography. I've got 12 
reels of old 8mm stag films and some 
tattered eight-page comics that had com- 
pletely lost their prurient appeal in com- 
- current. adult. movies. 
le to dig them out and 
once more be the most popular kid 
on my block. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Pasadena, Cali 


MR. HARRIS GOES TO PARIS 

Curtis Р. Па ct attorney of 
Oklahoma City, a vociferous advocate of 
censorship, has confirmed fears that the 
U. S. Supreme Court decisions on obscen- 
ity would be used not just against bl. 
tant pornography but also against valid 
works of art. He has shut down the 
claimed movie Last Tango in 
. United 
distributors of the film, filed suit in a 
Federal court to get the ban lifted. Two 
members of the three-judge panel ruled 
that, under the communitystandards 
principle, the ban was a matter for state 
courts, but added that they don't think 
Oklahoma's obscenity law is constitu 
tional, since it doesn't protect works of 
serious value and is not limited to pro- 
g patently offensive material. 
predictable 
'eryone wants to see the movi 
It has played in Tulsa for the past two 


SEXUAL BEHAVIOR IN THE 1970s 
PART Ill: SEX AND MARRIAGE 


article By MORTON HUNT in contrast to kinsey’s postwar couples, 
most husbands and wives today find sex a pleasure 


above and beyond the 


To Most PEOPLE, sex liberation signifies 
increased sexual freedom for the unmar- 
ried, the unfaithful and the unconven- 
tional. But the Playboy survey reveals 
that in terms of numbers of persons af- 
fected, sexual liberation’s greatest impact 
has been upon husbands and wives, many 
millions of whom have been freed to 
pursue and obtain sensuous pleasure in 
marital coitus. Married people today have 
intercourse more often, take longer to do 
so, use more variations and get greater 
satisfaction from it than did the married 
people surveyed by Dr. Alfred Kinsey 
from 1938 through 1949. (In these and all 
comparisons that follow, we use only the 
white portion of our sample in order to 
match Kinseys—which was allwhite—as 
closely as possible.) 

Sexual liberation enters marriage 
through many gates, Both partners now 
bring freer attitudes and broader premari- 
tal experience to the marriage bed; the 
pill and the I. U. D. afford increased sen- 
suous potential; discoveries hy Masters 
and Johnson and other clinical rescarch- 
ers haye placed effective methods of 
arousal, ejaculation delay and sensate 
focus at the disposal of couples; and wom- 
ens liberation has virtually demolished 
the archaic image of woman as sexually 
passive. Above all, husbands and wives 
continue to be influenced by an influx of 
information, attitudes and erotic stimuli 
in the printed word, film and the conver- 
sation of friends, Here is testimony from 
interviews that supplemented the survey: 

* Waitress, 37: "What changed our sex 
life was that a bunch of us girls on the 
same block started reading books and 
passing them around. My husband was 
always ready to try out anything I told 
him I'd read about. Some of it was great, 
some was awful and some was just funny." 

* College instructor (male), 33: "Our 
ideas about sex have changed a lot since 
we've been married, partly from maturity 
but largely from the influence of the com- 
mon culture—all the things one reads and 
hears about. 

+ Teacher (female), 34: “I kept hearing 
and reading about this multiple-orgasm 
thing, and I'd never realized before that 
it was normal. My husband and I talked 
it over and decided to make a special try 
+ ++and wow! I was really bowled over— 
and he felt pretty proud of himself, 100.” 

"Ehe fact that marital coitus has become 
more frequent is the best indication that 


call of conjugal duty 


sexual liberation has had a deep influ- 
ence; greater frequency is what one would 
expect if inhibitions had weakened or 
pleasure had increased or both. Male and 
female estimates of coital frequency differ 
somewhat, because of subjective factors, 
but if we compare our married males with 
Kinsey's married males to eliminate this 
variable, we find that the median fre- 
quency of marital coitus in every age 
group has increased by one fourth to one 
half over the figures of a generation ago. 
The median frequency as reported by 
females is likewise higher today (though 
by a smaller margin) in every age group. 
If we assume that the truth lies midway 
between the male and the female esti- 
mates, the figures are as follows: 


The change is particularly remarkable 
when we measure it against the decline 
marital coital frequency that Kinsey 
reported in 1953; at any given stage of 
marriage, the younger women in his 
study were having less marital coitus than 
older women had had. The drop ap- 
parendy was due to the growing power of 
wives to refuse coitus when they chose to. 
Their power to do so has increased great- 
ly since then, yet we find an across-the- 
board increase in coital frequency—clear 
evidence that today's women find ma 
coitus more rewarding than thc 
cursors did. 
Indeed, nine tenths of the wives in the - 
Playboy survey said that their marital 
coitus in the past усаг had been generally 
pleasurable or very pleasurable; only 
about a tenth found it neutral or un- 
pleasant. Husbands voted even more af- 
firmatively. A large part of the wives? 
satisfaction, and some part of the 
husbands’, is undoubtedly due to a high 
rate of orgasm in the wives, When we 


compare married women at the 15th year 
of marriage in Kinsey's sample with mar- 
ried women in the Playboy sample (whose 
marriages average 15 years), we find a 
distinct increase in the number nf wives. 
who always or nearly always have orgasm 
(Kinsey: 45 percent; Playboy: 53 percent) 
and a sharp decrease in the number of 
wives who seldom or never do so (Kinsey: 
28 percent; Playboy: 15 percent). 
Equally remarkable is the fact that 
coital frequency has increased in all age 
groups, not just among the young. Sexual 
liberation apparently keeps husbands and 
wives sexually interested in each other 
longer than used to be the cise. Among 
the probable causes are greater use of 
variant practices (which prevents bore- 
dom), lessening of shame or self-conscious- 
ness about sexual activity in middle age, 
and control of menopausal and postmeno- 
pausal vaginal discomfort by means of 
cstrogen-replacement therapy (ERT). Per- 
haps as important as any of these is 
the stimulus value of erotic literary and 
artistic materials; these are vastly more 
common than they used to be, and for 
every man and woman who found them 
sexually arousing in Kinsey's time, there 
are today two to several men and women 
who do so. Clinical experiments show that 
exposure to such materials tends to in- 
crease marital sex activity for a day or two. 
"The increase in the imaginative, volup- 
tuous and even playful aspects of marital 
coitus is evident throughout the sample 
population, but it is most notable among 
those who have no college education. 
Kinsey found that this group regarded 


prolonged foreplay and coital variations 
as particularly suspect. 

In general, we find the greatest magni- 
tude of change today in the activities 
that were most strongly taboo in Kinsey's 
time. For instance, the increase in man- 
ual-breast activity is small because it was 
so widely used even at the lower educa- 
tional level a generation ago. However, 
the increase in mouth-breast contact is 
larger because it was less widely used: 
Fewer than three fifths of Kinsey's non- 
college married males said they frequent- 
ly used this technique; more than nine 
tenths of ours do so, Among college-level 
married males. the proportion rose from 
just over four fifths to over nine tenths. 
Similar increases occurred in the propor- 
tions of husbands who said their wives 
touched or fondled their penises. Wives" 
estimates of the use of these techniques 
showed smaller differences between Кі 
sey's time and today. but there were di 
tinct increases in every case. 

‘The most dramatic changes, however, 
have occurred in the area of oral genital 
contact, which was almost unmention- 
able in Kinsey's time. Here we find wide 
disciepancies in Kinsey's data (though 
not in ours) between what males re- 
ported and what females reported. For 
instance, fewer than one out of six high 
school-level husbands in Kinsey's sample 
said that their wives had ever fellated 
them, but close to half of the high school- 
level wives iu his sample said that they 
had fellated their husbands. The expla- 
nation may be that many high school- 
level girls marry college-level men and 
become more sophisticated sexually, while 
ihe opposite is not true. Despite these 
discrepancies, there are impressive in- 
creases for both sexes in oralgenital 
practices in marriage. The following data 
for cunnilingus are typical: 


The change is of historic dimension. 
Fellatio and cunnilingus suddenly havc 
become part of the American repertoire 
of marital sex acts for a majority of the 
high school-educated and for a large ma- 
jority of the college-educated. The fig- 
ures are yet higher in the younger half of 
our sample, and even when we combine 
the two educational levels, nine tenths 
of husbands and wives under 25 report at 
least occasional fellatio and cunnilingus. 


The growing (concluded on page 256) 


months, and a theater in nearby Norman 
showing the picture 10 overflow 
оке. Norman's D. A. remarked, “Any 
me you have one person who sets com- 
you have a dictator 
been to see Last 
Tango in Paris. Emerging from a private 
ing, he told reporters, “I didn't see 


In 1972, Oklahoma City's rate of seri- 
ous crime rose two percent, while the na- 
tional statistics for the same crimes went 
down. While the city's chief Iaw-enforce- 
ment officer hounds movie-theater own- 
ers, booksellers and news dealers, the 
incidence of murder, manslaughter, rape, 
robbery, assault, burglary and 
increases. Those who clected Harris are 
a high price for his brand of 


James Neill Northe 
‘Oklahoma City, Oklahoma 


THE NEW INQUISITION 

Here in Chicago, the local morality ex- 
pert, Father Francis Navier Lawlor, has 
celebrated the Supreme Court's new ob- 
scenity de by urging law-enforce- 
ment offcials to "swing into action and 
start making arrests and prosecuting the 
offenders.” You will be interested to know 
that high on the list of culprits is Hugh 
Hefner, who “has long preyed on the cu- 
riosity of immature and unstable individ- 
uals” and “brought untold harm to 
millions of young people of this genera- 
I guess the good father thinks that 
if PLAYBOY is taken away from us we will 
all become celibates like him. 

I presume similar morality experts are 
raising the same cry in other cities, and 
publishers, writers and artists will be 
getting jugged on all sides. This will un- 
doubtedly distract attention from Water- 
gate, and Nixon can therefore be 
expected to exploit this to the hilt. A 
good spasm of holier-than-thou sexual 
hysteria, as the new inquisition hunts 
down the crotic heretics in our midst, can 
certainly get everybody's mind off the 
little Mafia in the Oval Room and its odd. 
habits of forgery, bribery, burglary, per- 
jury, espionage, sabotage, and so forth. 

Who ever started the idea that society 
has actually emerged from the Dark Ages? 

Simon Moon 
Chicago, Illinois 


SEMBLANCE OF MORALITY 

The Costa Mesa Register did an arti- 
cle on Ed Kirby, director of the C; 
nia Department of Alcoholic Bevera 
Control, who is described by it as “the 
man who put some semblance of mo- 
rality back into the bars." Kirby has 
appointed himself a crusader against 
nude entertainment. The le states 
that friend Kirby is a grandfather, is 
from a Catholic background and served 
in the FBI for 20 years. His notion of 


91 


PLAYBOY 


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morality apparently is based on sexual 
полоз he learned as a small boy, which 
he thinks should be the present-day law 
of the state of California. This, of course, 
is not morality in any philosophical 
sense; it is primitive taboo. 

Says the Register, “At first glance, he 
[Kirby] might pass as a bookkeeper. Or 
even as a minister. But law-enforcement 
people throughout the state who know 
him know he's ‘straighter’ than some min 
isters and more exact and organized than 
а bookkeeper.” It quotes his philoso- 
phy as follows: “I don't care what people 
do in private, If they want to behave like 
rimals behind closed doors, that’s their 
business. But, personally, Гус never 
thought of sex as a spectator sport.” 
Kirby's job gives him the power to en- 
force his prejudices, at least until he is 
sent out to pasture 

Minding someone else's business is 
called wowserism by the Australians, а 
word H. L. Mencken introduced here in 
the 1920. Kirby is the epitome of won 
serism; Nixon ran all his campaigns as 
dedicated wowser; Warren Burger's 
preme Court is now making wowserism 
10 the law of the land. The Register 
inadvertently found the right phrase for 
this mentality: not morality but "some 
semblance of morality." It bears as 
much relation to civilized ethics as thc 
sulis exchanged by schoolboys bear to 
rational debate. 


H. Dixon 
San Francisco, Califor 


CDL UNDER SCRUTINY 

An editorial comment in the Septem- 
ber Playboy Forum mentions that Citi- 
zens for Decent Literature is being 
investigated in New York and Minnesota 
and has been refused permission to solicit 
in North Carolina. Now The Philadel- 
phia Inquirer reports that Pennsylvania's 
Commission on Charitable Organizations 
has told CDL it can no longer solicit 
money for its anti-pornography camp: 
in that state. This is the fast time the 
commission has kicked such an organiza- 
tion out of Pennsylvania, whose 
stipulate that organizations soliciting 
tributions can use only 35 percent of their 
receipts for administrative costs. T 
Pennsylvania authorities estimate that 
CDL is using about 90 percent. 

The newspaper quoted a spokesman 
for CDL as saying that the cost of th 
mass mailings, which urge people to pi 
test pornography, is counted as an ad- 
ministrative cost because the letters also 
request donations. In 1971, the Inquirer 
reports, CDL took in $1,122,741 in con 
butions and spent $1,017,741 on its 
direct-mail campaign. 


Joseph F. Hackett 

Elmer, New Jersey 

“The Playboy Forum" has received a 
letter from the office of the attorney gen- 
eral of Mississippi telling us that it has 


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BOOB-TUBE BLUES 
I've run across an article in the Wash- 
ington, D.C. Star-News about Stop 
Immorality on TV, the blucnose organi 
zation mentioned in the April Playboy 
Forum, SAT. is the brain child of 
L. Brent Bozell, former spcechwriter for 
Senator Joe McCarthy. A few years ago, 
Bozell was the head of Sons of Thunder, 
a right-wing group accused of a hooligan- 
esque attack on a hospital where abo 
tions were performed. То put it mildl 
he is somewhat to the right of W m 
F. Buckley, Jr, and, indeed, they had a 
political split over a decade ago because 
Buckley seemed too liberal to Bozell, 
Whenever I turn on the boob tube, T 
am aghast at the childish level of the cn- 
tertainment and news coverage offered, 
When the networks do dare to tackle 
something sexual or controversial, they 
appro: ly as 
Victorian father uying to explain the 
facts of life to his teenage son. If they 
show a so-called adult movie, they cut it 
to shreds first, to ensure that it doesn't 
offend some Bible-banger in Mississippi. 
If this is immorality, I am a brass 
key, Mr. Bozell. 
According to 
S.I.T. has or 
bringing in 18,000 to 19,000 protest lct- 
ters a month to the Federal Communica- 
tions Commission, A spokesman for the 
organization said they have sent out 
3.500,000 letters, explaining, “We buy 
mailing lists of any group we think 
would be interested in u usly, 
unless the rest of us start writing on 
the other side, this small minority of 
ng noodle-heads might convince 
3 that they speak for all of us. In 
case, the boob tube will become 
even more infantile. Anybody for a 
steady dict of Donald Duck cartoons? 
В. Andrews 
Washington, D.C. 
Stop Immorality on TV casts its nel so 
wide that even Hugh Hefner receives 
its appeals. Like those sent by the Citi- 
zens Jor Decent Literature, the letters are 
printed with the recipient's name and 
state of residence inserted here and there 
to add that personal touch, Each letter in- 
forms Hefner that “you were especially 
selected" to receive this mailing. Warning 
that “a small but powerful group” that 
controls network TV is presenting “as a 
normal part of life things which most of us 
were brought up to believe are wrong,” 
SIT. offers “Maude,” “M*A*S*H,” 
“The Dean Martin Show,” “The Carol 
Burnett Show" and “Allin the Family" as 
examples of programs menacing Ameri- 
can morals. “Please don't despair" over 
“these terrible things,” the letter adds 
soothingly. It then offers a rationale for 
its efjorts Lo interfere with other people's 


h it as awkwardly and timi 


the Star-News 


story, 
nized a campaign that is 


that 


entertainment. “In the past, too many 
people have felt that their only respon- 
sibility was to lead a good moral life for 
themselves. But things have gotten so bad 
that the time has come when all good 
people must take positive action to stop 
this immorality.” The letter promises 
that “this problem can be solved” with 
the help of a donation of “$10 or $15 or 
$25 or $50 or $100 or even more if you 
can possibly afford iL" S.LT. not only 
wanis to censor people's TV watching, it 
wants them to pay for the privilege. Ap- 
parenily the organization is unaware that 
each TV set has a builtin device where- 
by each individual can censor any or cll 
programs: the on-off switch. 


MARITAL PRURIENCE 


following defi 
uneasy with de 
haying 

Imagine my shock when I realized that 
my own husband arouses my р 
interests. 


(Name withheld by request) 
Redondo Beach, California 


DALLAS DEMENTIA 

Before Texas changed its marijuana 
law, The Playboy Forum published a se- 
ries of letters about excessive prison sen- 
tences for pot users under the heading 
“LoneStar Lunacy.” I've been mea 
to protest this for some time. because it 
n't the whole of Texas that's crazy. 
just Dallas, the hole of Texas. The 1000- 
year prison sentences, the witch-hunts 
ads and the wild absurdities 
ng hate all emanate from Da 
las and environs. 

Now the pot law has been reformed, 
but Dallasites can still sink their 
to pornography. Last August 
jury sentenced three men and two women 
to the maximum penaltics, five years in 
prison and a $9000 fine cach, for conspi 
ing to exhibit Deep Throat. There 
numerous theaters in Dallas show 
pornographic movies, and several 
bookstores, but the people involved in 
showing Deep Throat had the misfor- 
tune to be connected with 2 porno film 
that has earned national attention and is 
an obvious target. 

Dallas considers itself onc of the most 
modern and progressive cities in the 
Southwest. In some ways, it is. In some 
ys, Germany in 1939 was one of the 
most modern and progressive i 
Europe. 

Please don't pub 
relatives in Dallas. 

(Name withheld by request) 

А Fort Worth, Texas 


h my name. I have 


LAWYERS FOR POT REFORM 
The American Bar Association has of- 
ficially urged the decriminalization of 
(continued on page 305) 


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was BOB HOPE 


a candid conversation with the fast-talking daddy warbucks of comedy 


No one—not even. John. Wayne and 
certainly not Richard Nixon—can lay a 
better claim to the title of Mr. America 
than a fast-talking, swoop-nosed comedi- 
an who wasn't even born in this country. 
And yet during the past 20 years, he has 
unquestionably become а nutional mon- 
ument, instantly recognizable and be- 
loved by Americans everywhere and, more 
significantly, a symbol to the outside 
world (and to some in this county) of 
the traditional American spirit —optimis- 
lic, energetic, pragmatic and generous 
to a fault, but also proselytizingly patri- 
otic, tiresomely wisecracking and danger- 
ously simplistic, especially in the sensitive 
area of politics. 

What foreigners may think of Bob 
Hope, however, doesn't concern most 
Americans, especially that segment of the 
population that deeply mistrusts not 
only foreigners abroad but ethnic minori- 
tics at home. To that America, Bob Hope 
speaks most eloquently; in fact, though 
he says he has never aspired to be 
anything but what he is—a gifted and 
supremely disciplined enterlainer—he 
could concewably vun jor President and 
win. After all, it’s been pointed out, his 
colleagues George Murphy and Ronald 
Reagan made it from showbiz to high 
elective office on far less talent than he. 

To bolster any possible political aspira- 
lions he might have, the story of Hope's 


carly life is right out of “Horatio Alge 
Born Leslie Townes Hope on May 29, 
1903, in Eltham, a working-class suburb 
of London, he was the son of a stonema- 
son, a hard-drinking, hard-gambling man 
who immigrated with his family to Ameri- 
ca in 1906 and settled down in Cleveland 
in scarch of a better life. He never found 
it, and it was his wife, Avis, the tough- 
minded daughter of a Welsh sca captain, 
who kept the family together by toking 
in boarders and sending Leslie and his 
four brothers out into the world as soon. 
as they were old enough to walk. Young 
Leslie did time as a newspaper boy, a 
caddie, a butcher's helper, a shoc sales- 
man and a stockboy; he also became pro- 
ficient with a pool cue and by the age of 
72 was hustling successfully. In between 
jobs, hustling and school, he sang on 
amateur nights at the local vaudeville 
houses, where his mother invariably led. 
the claque and helped him win prizes. It 
seemed only natural to him that, after a 
brief and not too successful stint as a 
boxer, he'd wind up in show business. 

He began in vaudeville, working with 
male and female partners, first as a soft- 
shoe dancer, then as a blackface comedi- 
an. dlong the way, he changed his name 
and soon graduated to tabs—miniature 
musicals and variety revues that toured 
the various theater civcuils—playing sev- 
eral shows a day. The pay was low and 


the life grueling, but the experience, 
Hope has always claimed, was invaluable 
И. was also during this period, while he 
was working a tiny theater in New Castle, 
Pennsylvania, that he stumbled onto his 
extraordinary talents as a monologist and 
ad libber. Asked on short notice by the 
manager о] the theater to introduce the 
other acts on the bill, Hope began lacing 
his improvised spiel with remarks that, to 
his gratification, made the often danger- 
ously bored local audiences rock with 
laughter. 

By the time Broadway beckoned and 
Hope went into his first full-scale must 
cal, “Ballyhoo of 1932,” as a solo perform. 
er, he was a seasoned veteran who had 
mastered all the basics of his profession 
and needed only a lucky break in the 
form of the right part in the right show 
to become a star. This came along in the 
fall of 1933, when he was cast as Huckle- 
berry Haines, the fast-talking best friend 
of the leading man (Ray Middleton) in 
“Roberta,” a hit musical with a score by 
Jerome Kern. Despite an unfavorable 
personal notice from the prestigious crit 
ic of The New York Times, Hope all but 
stole the show from Middleton and such 
other seasoned male troupers in the cast 
as George Murphy, Fred MacMurray and 
Sydney Greenstreet; his career was 
launched. He soon branched out into 
radio and films and began, with the help 


“If we had declared war in Vietnam, this 
thing would have ended in a year, because 
the military would have taken over. We'd 
have gone all out and—bang, bang, 
bang—it would have been over.” 


“This kid comes up to me and says, ‘Get 
with Jesus" He hasn't heard the good 
news and the bad news. The good news 
is that he's coming back, but the bad news 
is that he's really pissed off. 


CHARLES W. BUSH 
“I did a joke once about the Mafia join- 
ing forces with gay lib, so that now with 
the kiss of death you get dinner and an 
evening of dancing. Two gay groups were 
going to beat me with their purses.” 


97 


PLAYBOY 


98 


of a stable of top comedy writers, to pro- 
duce the slick, lightning-fast stand-up 
monologs that became his trademark and 
made him a star. 

The Bob Hope style, or what others 
have called his formula, was most fully 
developed and established on radio's 
“Pepsodent Show,” which for over a dec- 
ade, from 1938 on, kept the comedian 
among the top four laugh getters in the 
nation's living rooms. His chief rivals 
were Jack Benny, Fred Allen and Edgar 
Bergen; the critics generally considered 
him inferior to them, but he usually 
topped them in the ratings. While the 
other airwave comedians went to great 
pains to establish characters for them- 
selves and to create the atmosphere of 
entire milieus, Hope ignored characleri- 
zation, revealed little about himself or 
others on his show and created no small 
worlds for the imagination of his listeners 
10 roam in. What made him unique was 
simply the monolog that opened every 
show, in which he peppered his listening 
audience with a barrage of quips that 
one of his writers once likened to “casting 
with a fy rod—flicking in and out" 
Neither his technique nor his material has 
ever pleased the intellectuals much, and 
such critics as John Lahr, whose father, 
Bert, was one of the great clowns of the 
American stage, have complained that he 
never displayed in his comedy “the kind 
of inner wound that makes an artist.” 
Hope's comedy has always been consid- 
ered in these circles 10 be artificial. the 
machine made product of a team of gag 
writers, and Hope himself merely a slick- 
talking, glorified night-club emcee. 

Apart from the fact that such crilicism 
ignores the finely tuned sense of timing 
that it takes to deliver such monologs suc- 
cessfully—building and piling laughs on 
one another io a climax that enables the 
comic to exit deftly on the crest of a wave 
of applause—there’s no denying that 
these machine-gun monologs have made 
him a multimillionaire. According to J. 
Anthony Lukas, writing a few years ago 
in The New York Times, Hope's image 
is one of “the guy in front of the drug- 
slore, the fastest tongue in town. And his 
lines are brisk, [lip wisecracks delivered 
with a mixture of breezy self-confidence 
and pouting frustration.” 

The image grew and flowered not only 
in radio but in most of Hope's 71 films. It 
was first used to perfection in “The Big 
Broadcast of 1938” (in which Hope also 
sang his theme song, “Thanks for the 
Memory,” for the first time) and was 
most fully exploited in the famous series 
of “Road” pictures that co-starred him 
with Bing Crosby and Dorothy Lamour. 
In these movies, Hope was more often 
than not the loser; Crosby usually got the 
girl and almost all of the songs. But it 
was Hope—as the falsely cocky, gir 
crazy, basically cowardly fast talker, al- 
ways ready to cut corners, always on the 
lookout for the main chance and never 


able to resist a joke, even when about to 
be dismembered by a gorilla—who got 
most of the laughs and with whom the 
American audience immediately iden- 
tified. “In movies, Bob is sort of the 
American Falstaf]" one of his PR men 
said recently. "He always survives be- 
cause he never stops trying, he never 
gives up, no matter how badly things 
‘may be going [or him, no matter how 
long the odds against him, He really be- 
lieves the cavalry is going to come charg- 
ing to his rescue any minute.” 

When Hope went into TV, he had to 
try a new approach. “1 honestly think 
that the secret of TV is being relaxed, 
casual and easy,” he once observed. He 
slowed down what he called his “bang, 
bang, bang" delivery and concentrated 
more on putting across his personality, 
which remained basically what it had be- 
come Lack in the Thirties in radio and 
movies. He also wisely limited his TV ap- 
pearances to a series of specials every 
year, so that, alone of all the major come- 
dians, he has remained in consistent public 
demand year after year jor over two dec- 
ades. The only other exposure he re- 
ceived on the tube was his annual stint 
as emcee for the Academy Awards, a task 
1hat—until it ended, at least temporarily, 
a couple of years ago—presented vintage 
Hope to an estimated 60,000,000 viewers. 
His two Christmas shows, filmed at U.S. 
military bases in Vietnam in 1970 and 
1971, drew the largest viewing audiences 
for specials in the history of the medium. 

Though these two shows suggest the es 
teem and afjection in which the comedi- 
an is held, they are also at the heart of 
the considerable criticism he has received 
over the past few years for his hawklike 
stance on Vietnam and his open identi- 
fication as a leading spokesman for the 
political right. His detractors say that, 
though it's perfectly true that Hope has 
been entertaining regularly at American 
military bases at home and abroad for 31 
years, ever since World War Two, he has 
exploited his most recent trips to Viet- 
nam by making highly successful and 
commercially lucrative network televi- 
sion specials out oj them. He is an out- 
spoken admirer and close friend of 
Vice-President Agnew, as well as a crony 
of most of the other major conservative 
figures in American life, from Westmore- 
land to Wallace, and he seems totally 
unsympathetic to ethnic minorities and 
young people, with all of whom, it is 
said, he is painfully out of touch. Even in 
his comedy routines, he pays only lip sero- 
ice to objectivity, favors his own side 
and puts down everyone else, while never 
digging at all below the surface into the 
more painful areas of life probed by so- 
cial commentators such as Mort Sahl and 
the late Lenny Bruce. 

Though Hope's friends say that he do- 
nates about $1,000,000 a year to various 
charities, his so-called humanitarianism, 
jor which he has received an honorary 


Oscar and dozens of other awards, has 
also been questioned. Hope is supposed 
to be one of the richest men in the world 
(worth, according to one published esti- 
mate, at least half a billion dollars) and, 
though gencrous enough with his time, 
he is reputedly a notorious tightwad who 
would never dream of putting his money 
where his mouth is. Even his personal life 
has come under attack: Though he has 
been married for 39 years to Dolores 
Reade, a former nightclub singer, and 
together they have raiscd four adopted 
children, it's no secret that he is almost 
never home and that his wife, a devout 
Roman Catholic, is most often seen in 
the company of aged Jesuit priests. 

To quiz him on the above and re- 
lated matters, PLAYBOY assigned William 
Murray to interview the 70-year-old star. 
Murray reports: “Gelting to sit down 
with Bob Hope is a lot harder than gct- 
ting an audience with the Pope. It's not 
that he doesn’t want to see you; it’s only 
that the man is hardly ever in one place 
for more than a day or two, and then 
he's always surrounded by people—his 
friends, his writers, his personel staff, his 
agents and managers and flacks and the 
boys from the network. It took me three 
months and the efforts of his son Tony 
and his two PR firms to get me to him. 
When a meeting was finally arranged, I 
was told by somcone on his staff that 1 
could have a total of one hour at lunch 
with him, between rehearsals for his first 
TV special of the season. 1 explained I'd 
need at least two taping sessions of a 
minimum of several hours each and the 
poor guy recoiled in horror. ‘If I tell Bob 
that, he said, ‘he won't see you at all? I 
decided to take my chances and rely on 
my famous charm. 

“I needn't have worried. Hope is, first 
and foremost, an entertainer. Get him 
talking about showbiz and you can take 
il from there. I also came away, after sev- 
eral long sessions with him over a period 
of three weeks, liking the man a lot. We 
talked mostly in what he calls his game 
room, a bright, airy place in the big 
house sprawled over seven acres of North 
Hollywood land that he bought for prac- 
tically nothing more than 20 years ago. 
Out the window 1 could see the fairway 
of his private one-hole golf couse and a 
corner of a huge swimming pool. Hope 
bounces as he walks, hums little tunes to 
himself, seems to vibrate quietly in his 
chair, as ij he’s consciously, like a trained 
athlete, working all the time at keeping 
himself loose. For a man his age, he’s in 
superb condition, the jowls of his famous 
profile firm and his flesh tone that of a 
man in his early 50s. His tongue is still 
in great shape, too; in the ten hours we 
talked, he proved time and again—en- 
tertainingly—that he doesn't need his 
writers around to sound like a comedian, 
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lot of people now think of you as an 
American institution, Do you think of 
yourself as one? 

HOPE: Hardly—although I have a few 
jokes Fm leaving to the Smithsonian. 
Then I think maybe if they went up on 
Mount Rushmore and retouched Lin- 
coln a little bit and gave him a ski nose, 
1 could sneak in there. You know, I can't 
take a question like that seriously. I'm 
just worried about my next show. 
Do you have any pol 


HOPE: No 1 way. 

PLAYBOY: And yct you've been linked very 
closely in recent years with men like 
Nixon and Agnew, whose views presu 
ably you share. 

HOPE: From F.D.R. on, I've been 
ndly with all the Presidents 
men around them, and I've found that 
they're г 


time I went to W 


very 


I used to 


shington, 
drop in on J.F.K. and swap jokes with 


him. He was a great 
hespent a lot of time in Congress. But I'm 
also an Agnew man and a Nixon man 
Aud a Reagan man and a Rockefeller 
man and a Connally man, so during the 
next election I'm moving to South Ameri- 
ca, "That's how chicken 1 am. 

PLAYBOY: You didn't say you were a 
Kennedy or a McGovern man. All the 
politicians you say you support are 
conservatives. 

HOPE: Look, ] don't want to get into that. 
Every article about me recently has been 
spouting the same bullshit about my pol- 
itics. They hook me into it on account of 
Agnew and the Vietnam war, The only 
reason I was for Nixon and this Admil 
tation was because I knew that’s who 
would end this war and get those kids 
back home. None of those jerks walking 
around with those signs was ever going to 
end the war. I knew Nixon was the only 
person who could do it, and it should 
have been done eight years ago. As for 
my politics and all that, I vote for the 
man and only for the man. Fm an Am 
can above everything, and that’s another 
reason I've hated to sce this political gar- 
bage going on that's been breaking up 
our country, this political soap opcra 
we've been sitting through. 

PLAYBOY: You mean Watergate? 

HOPE: Yes. I've been watching Ihe Wash- 
ington Squares, Every time 1 see Sam 
Ervin, I get the feeling that Gomer Pyle 
has aged. 1 Iove to watch him dust off the 
furniture with his eyebrows. And that 
Senator Baker, he's a very personable 
guy. The two of than will do great 
minstrel shows ever come back. Ervi 
taught me a lot about how to be a chair- 
man. You have to wait for your laugh 
before you hit the gavel. They're all 
beauties, though. Some days you take a 
look at that group up therc and you feel 
the whole mob should have Snow White 
in front of them. 


udience for comedy 


PLAYBOY: What kind of impression did the 
witnesses make on you? 

HOPE: I thought Ehrlichman was marvel- 
ous. And Peterson was great. I love 
people who aren't awed by that commit- 
tee. They go in there and stand up and 
Peterson said, if the 
politicians had kept their hands off of it, 
the Justice Department would have han- 
dled it just fine. This is like the McCarthy 
1 did a joke about Joe McCarthy one 
n Appleton, Wisconsin, 
rthy's home state, wrote 
per, which he owned, that 
1 was a Communist. So 1 wrote him back 
and told him simply that telling jokes 
was my racket. Alter that, he wrote in his 
paper that Bob Hope was a preity good 
Am ad we became friends. I send 
mas cards and he sends me 


cheese. 

PLAYBOY: Then you agree with President 
Nixon that the matter should be handled 
in the courts? 


g this thing on. 
for years and years is giving dirty politics 
a bad name. E Administration has 
been plagued by some kind of scandal or 
other. The whole thing has had a Mack 
Sennett feel to it. Actually, I don't know 
whether they ought to get them into court 
or Central Casting. I understand Screen 
Gems wants Ulasewicz for a series. Why 
would anybody want to bug Democratic 
ters to steal Ma 
? That's petty larceny at most. 
PLAYBOY: Don't you think the Wawi- 
gate committee has served a le 
function? 

HOPE: Hell, yes, but it's been dragging on 
and on and its not good for the country. 
1 know that the committee is stuck with a 
lot of television make-up, but E think they 
ought to sell it to somebody and get on. 
with the real business at hand. 

PLAYBOY: How about your own television 
makeup? Haye you made your la 
overseas to enter 
bas 
HOPE: As far as any kind of formal trip is 
concerned, yes. I can't say absolutely that. 
Ive made my last trip, because, if any- 
thing happened and they asked me to go, 
I would. But on regular basis, I'm 


at our mil 


through. In fact, I'm doing à bock called 
The Last Christmas Show, which tells the 
story of the last trip. 

How 


PLAYBOY: 


many tips have you 


nt overseas six times du 
ing World War Two and 23 or 24 es. 
between 1918 and 1972, maybe 30 trips 
in all. My golfing buddy, Stuart Syming- 
ton, started the whole thing about the 


nd then took us to 
Alaska the next year. From then on, we 
were locked in by the Defense Depart- 
ment. In fact, we got hooked on the box 
lunches ourselves. A different kind of uip, 
one that stands out in my memory, was 
the Victory Garavan in 1942, which was 


our own private train that began in 
Washingıo: nd went all over the coun- 
wy for about three weeks, playing every- 
where to standing-roon-only crowds: the 
idea was to get people to buy Victory 
Bonds. We had 25 stars on board. Cary 
Grant and I were the double emcces and 
we had Pat O'Brien aurel and Hardy, 
Crosby, Merle Oberon, Claudette Colbert, 
Jimmy Cagney, Charles Boyer—25 star 
you never saw anything like it in your life 
And Groucho used to run around the 
train and needle everybody. I remember 
we had a guy named Charley Feldman 
on board, who was known as "the good- 
looking agent"—he looked a little like 
tble—and Groucho came down the 
le one morning, ars got 
so mixed up ight Charley Feldman 
found himself back in his own bed.” God 
it was fun! After that I bes 
seas for the troops. 
PLAYBOY: You've been getting some mixed 
reactions to your more recent tours, both 
here and abroad, and there were reports 
that, in a couple of places at least, you 
were actually booed 
Well, that’s all from politics. It 
шу me to think that we have American 
kids over there fighting, kids who've 
been asked to go over there and fight for 
their country, and for some reason it’s 
wrong to go over and entertain them 
That's all we've ever done. In World War 
Two they cheered, and I've. been lucky 
enough to have received every medal 
that's сусг been given out by the Govern’ 
ment, Take a look at the people who crit- 
icize; look at their records. An awful lot 
of great Hollywood people have been on 
those trips. 
ive years ago I took the Golddiggers, 
and one of the biggest th 
ducing them 
the exp 


faces. ШУ 
an exciting thing to be overseas and see 


ms on those kids” 


show that ha 
tions, with great big b 
year I took along 12 of the most gorgeou 
s, called the American Beauties. For 


Ziegleld Follies propor 
iful girls. Last 


g 
these kids there is nothing you can do 
better than that. They fight to get into 


the shows. And we went everywhere, 
even up to onc small base in Alaska where 
they'd written us, begging us to come. We 
had trouble landing there. The ground 
was so cold the plane refused to put its 
l down. What a bleak outpost! The 
big thrill there was to wake up in the 
morning, count your toes and get up to 
ten. The guys screamed when we played 
there; they had to to keep warm. Anyway 
you feel lucky that you're able to do it, 
and anyone who says anything about any 
of these trips, well, in my book he's a 
petty jerk. 

PLAYBOY: Don't you think that most of the 
s motivated by sincere oppo- 
sition to the Vietnam war? 

HOPE: Sure. They linked me with the ма 
Bur I hate war. I wouldn't get 
kind of conflict if I could help it, and 


101 


PLAYBOY 


102 


Je Dui 
Muy 


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I've had a couple of rough scrapes: but 
this has been tlie greatest part of my life 
and anybody who has ever gone with me 
knows what it’s all about, Ihe emotion 
and the gratification are fantastic. From. 
the time you get on the plane to the time 
you get back, you feel youre a sacred 
cow. They just give you everything and 
they love you for coming. Look, I didn't 
go to Vietnam because it was Vietnam. 1 


EO to the camps where our guys are and 
because they're screaming for us. We рес 
requests all the time. But we've had it 


now, unless (here's a new crisis some- 
where and we're really needed. 

PLAYBOY; But how do you feel about the 
war itself at this point? 

HOPE: I'm concerned about Cambodi 
now. I guess nobody else is, so 1 don't 
know why I should worry. Im concerned 
that if we lose Cambodia, the Commies 
will get a foothold there and maybe start 
the whole thing over again. 1 hope not 
and pray not. 

PLAYBOY: Is it any bu 
form of government 
choose to live under? 
HOPE: Let me explain one thing about 
South Vietnam. When you get guys like 
Eisenhower and his stall, Kennedy and 
his stall, Johnson and his staff, all of 
whom thought it was important enough 
to save this little nation from commu- 
nism or enslavement, then you have to 
think maybe they know something. When 
we were in Thailand, the king would 
vite us into the palace and hed s 
“Thank God the U. S. troops are here, be 
cause otherwise the Communists would 
е over.” The same people who didn't 
like what happened jn Hungary and 
Czechoslovakia don't think about this. 
Unless irs happened to you, you don't 
think much about it. But that’s why our 
Presidents the troops in there. 
They're brilliant enough to know what 
they're doing and why. They did it to save 
this country and all of Southeast Asia and 
I'm concerned now that, if we run into 
problems elsewhere, well have to go 
back in. We're patriotic enough in this 
country th somebody hurts us in 
some way, sinks a ship or something, we'll 
go back in and itll start all over 
PLAYBOY: Do you think the President has 
the constitutional right to wage war with- 
out the consent of Congress? 

HOPE: When you say the President, you're 
not speaking about one man. The Presi- 
dent has a fantastic group around hi 
And he invites the leaders of both parties 
and the Joi fs and everybody has 
was a great military 
der, but he didn't wage war on his 
own. Neither did Kennedy, and neither 
did Johnson, and it was Johnson who 
sent in mox of the troops. They have 
great stalls, and they call on everybody 
for advice. Of course, the President is the 
Commander in Chief, so he's got to issue. 
the order. But 1 "C sit alone 
room and say, “I want to wage war.” 


iness of ours what 
other countries 


m 


sent 


does: 


PLAYBOY: But doesn't the Constitution 
specify that the Congress must declare 
war before American troops can be com- 
mitted to large-scale action abroad? 

HOPE: It’s truc that we t declared 
M The Korean War was a police action 
and so was this one. That was the prob- 
lem. If we had declared war, this thing 
would have been over in a ycar, because 
the military would have taken over. Wed 
have gone all out and—bang, bang, 
bang—it would have been over. We 
wouldn't have Jost any international 
prestige and we'd have saved about hall 
a million lives, as well as a lot of our 
international prestige. 

PLAYBOY: Thats debatable. But what do 
you think we ought to do now in 
Indochina? 

HOPE: As I said, I'm very concerned about 
the Cambodian situation. 1 have a lot of 
friends in Washington—a couple of very 
big ones, and 1 don't mean the President, 
but a couple of guys I play golf with 
and Fm going in there next week and 
I'm going to sit down and ask them, just 
for my own understanding, what's going 
to happen. I heard one of these big guys 
say the other day that Cambodia is going 
down the drain. Well, if Cambodia goes 
down the drain, then you tell me what 
the hell is going to happen with Thai 
land. They're worried as hell about it. 1 
don’t think we have to worry too much, 
but what about our kids? I'd like to see 
u cr have another war. That would 
be great, just great. H we handle things 


PLAYBOY: One of the Ns Nixon m. 

when he was elected in 1968 was to bring 
the country together. The most recent 
polls would suggest that he hasn't, be 
cause а majority of the public isn’t satis- 


hes tell the muth about 
Watergate. How do you feel about his 
performance? 

HOPE: I think he has a tremendous rec- 
ord, I really do. What he's done with the 
Russians and the Chinese has taken a lot 
of the heat off. It great job. Thar 
and the fact that he brought back 500,000 
of our men from Vietnam are enough lo 
make me like him yery much. The fact 
that the polls show that a lot of people 
don't believe him doesn't mean a hell of 
а lot. For one thing, the polls are ofte 

wrong: It’s like the Nielsen ratings. They 
call up eight people and ask them what 
they Liked on television last night. Three 
of them were out seeing The Devil in Miss 
Jones, four of them were taking a nap so 
they could wake up later and watch 
Johnny Carson and the other one doesn’t 
have a television set. The only time to 
believe any kind of rating is when it 
shows you at the top. They should get off 
Nixon's back and let him be President, 
because he's a damn good one. He's also. 
gota greatlooking nose. 
PLAYBOY: What do you th 


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103 


done with the young people who refused 
to haye anything to do with the war? 

HOPE: I do feel they should serve their 
country in some way, because it's not fair 
to the people who did go over there and 
serve. I've got compassion for everybody, 
but I've been in places where you see 
American fighting boys who've been badly 
hurt. It shakes you up. 

PLAYBOY: You scem to get most of your 
ideas on public issues from conversations 
with high-ranking politicians and mili- 
tary men. Do you feel you might be out 
of touch with ordinary people and espe- 
cially the young? 

HOPE: Oh, no. First off, I catch a lot of 
flack from my own kids, who tell me we 
ought to just slap the Reds on the wrist 
and run, and sec what happens. Its hard 
for me to win an argument in my family, 
because two of my kids are 1 
another one is married to a 
they have two little briefs, But they're all 
fans of my trips, because they've all been 
along on them. h me in 
the burn wards and intensive-care wards 
and seen the kids suffering and dy 
We argue about а lot of things but not 
about the trips. 

PLAYBOY: Aside from the young men 
you've played to in Army camps, do you 
think you're popular with young people? 
Do you feel close to them? 

HOPE: NBC tock a poll recently and 
found that, because of my pictures! being 
on TY, even little kids of eight and nine 
buy mc. The other night, when we taped 
our first special for the new season, I 
looked out into the front rows and there 
were all these kids scr . I grab all 
of them. I go and I play the colleges and 
afterward we have a kind of foru 
talk about everything. "hey ask me 
about everything, including the war and 
the killing, and so on, and it gives you a 
great chance to talk to them. If you talk 
to young people in a big group, you also 
find that the sense of fairness in them 
will come out. They won't let any one 
guy try to ride over you. And I take my 
own polls, you know. I ask for votes on 
whether the kids thought we were doing 
the right thing in Vietnam or wherever 
ad, you know, the majority of those kids 
have said we were doing the best thing 
possible. I Jove to talk to the kids. I get a 
cat kick out of that, the rapport you 
reach with them and feeling them out 
nd finding out what they're thinking 
about. It really gives me a charge. 
PLAYBOY: What about some of the things 
young people are into—such as оре 
marriage and women's lib and the gay 
liberation front? Can you relate to all 


PLAYBOY 


and 


ed spectator, 


І haven't known any open m 
though quite a few have been aja 
When those women throw away the 
brassieres and then ask for support—t 
104 love it. But I think people can get too 


carried away with this sort of thing. I 
can't understand why Raquel Welch 
would want equality with Don Knotts. 
And I haven't noticed any big changes in 
Dolores yet. She still hasn't burned her 
credit cards. 

PLAYBOY: What about the wend among 
the young to turn back to Jesus? 
HOPE: Anything that gets them 
straight line helps kids like that, as long 
as they don't overdo it. About three years 
ago, Dolores and I—Dolores is so reli- 
gious, you know, she's something else; we 
Couldn't get fire insurance for a long 
time because she had so many candles 
burning—well, anyway, we're getting off 
this plane and this kid comes up to us 
and he says, "Get with Jesus!" When we 
get outside, he comes up to us again and 
says, “You gotta get with Jesus, because 
that's where it’s at!” I call him over and 
I say, "Look, you got with Jesus and it's 
a great thing and we know all about 
But don't sell people off it. Play it cool!” 
Because, you know, this guy is yelling. 
Anyway, he hasn't heard the good news 


Mo a 


that he's really pissed olf. 

PLAYBOY: You've always been a quick man 
with a quip, but п said that you 
rely heavily on your writers. How many 
do you have working for you? 

HOPE: Seven right now. JE I do a picture, 
1 might add three or four more. I've had 
a lot of good writers working for me and 
two or duce of then have been with ше 
for years—one guy, Les White, since 1932, 
off and on. At one Writers Guild show, 
they asked all the writers who had ever 
worked for Bob Hope to stand up and 
about 100 guys сате up on stage. I've 
had fabulous writers. 1 put them to work 
nd then they bring it in and we 
put it all together and rewrite whatever 
we want to de and rehearse and see if it 
plays and then rewrite again. We can 
come up with jokes in 15 minutes just 
alking in my dressing room and save a 


PLAYBOY: What's the secret of your com- 
edy? The material? 

HOPE: The material has a lot to do with it, 
but the real secret is in timing, not just of 
comedy but of life. It starts with life. 
Think of sports, even sex. Timing 
the essence of life, and definitely of come 
edy. There's a chemistry of timing be- 
tween the comedian and his audience. If 
the chemistry is great, it's developed 
through the h: of the material and 
the timing of it, how you get into the au- 
dience's head. The other night I was at 
dinner here and the guy who 
was introducing the acts had this very 
high voice. Well, when I got on I said, 
“I'm glad I was introduced before his 
voice changed. He sounds like Wayne 
Newton on his wedding night.” Well, you 
n't get a better start than that. Here 
was something that was in the minds of 
all those people sitting there and when 


you deliver it to them with the right 
timing and the right delivery, the light 
goes on in their heads and you're coming 
down the stretch. All the good comedian 
have great timin 
PLAYBOY: But you couldn't get along with- 
ош your writers. 
HOPE: Every comedian needs writers, be- 
cause to stay on top you always need new 
material. It's like getting elected to of 
fice. You're going to get elected if you say 
the right things—but only if you say 
them right. The great ad-libbers are the 
guys with the best timing, like Don 
Rickles. I showed up in the audience one 
night at NBC, where he was cutting e 
erybody up on the Dean Martin Show. 1 
walked in after the show had started and 
the people in the back saw me and be 
applauding and then the audience i 
front turned around and they applauded 
and I was taking it big. Rickles backed 
away to the p nd when everything 
quieted down, he walked up to the mike 
and said, “Well, the war must be over.” It 
was just magnificent timing and it hit 
very large. Timing shows more in ad libs 
than in anything else. 

Back in 1952, I was doing a 15-minute 
daily show and I had a question-and- 
answer period with the audience. Most 
people ask how old you are and all the 
usual stufi, which is all fun, because 1 
have stock lines for a lot of it, but one 
night this guy LA up and waved his hand 
id he said, * ich way docs a p i 
иши, ШОО ог counterclockwise? 
was such a wild question that the aud 
aughed like hell, and when they 
finished laughing I said, “We'll find out 
when you leave." And the theater rocked, 
it just rocked. It was so good that alter 
that, I pura plant in the audience in some 
of those shows to get that laugh aga 
PLAYBOY: You've been attacked from time 
to time for telling ethnic jokes, most re 
cently for one in which your central ch 
acter was called a Jap. Do you thi 
ethnic humor can be demeaning? 
HOPE: It can be, but mostly it has to do 
with who's telling the joke. 1 get into 


trouble when I do it, because I'm sup- 
posed to be one of the top guys. The 


other night in Jersey, 1 heard some guy 
do 15 minutes of Polack jokes and nobody 


a word. I did two or three Polack 
jokes at the Garden State Art Genter and 


the guy who owns the local newsp: 
rushed up and demanded an apology. Ev- 
erybody in the country tells these jokes, 
but if I do them, somebody jumps. Ust 
ly, I try to even them up. Like I sa 
you know how a Polack lubricates his 
саг? He runs over an Iu ." But the 

you have the Пай ainst you and 
that’s not good if you want to cat in 
New York. I once did a joke about tli 

Mafia joining forces with the gay lib 
group in New York, so that now with the 
kiss of death you get dinner and an eve- 
ning of dancing. I did that joke in Madi- 
son Square Garden and immediately 1 


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heard from two groups of gay activists. 
They were going to come around and 
beat me with their purses. But a lot of it 
depends on where you do these jokes. 
You can do a lot of things in a place like 
Vegas that you can't do on TV. 
PLAYBOY: Wouldn't you like to have more 
freedom on your own TV shows? 
HOPE: No, you'vc got to think about the 
Bible Belt. They've got a hot finger and 
they can click you into oblivion faster 
BC censor. But one of the 
at things about TV is that the 
kids have rediscovered a whole lost era of 
comedy by seeing all these old films on 
t must be like the first time. 
I saw Charlie Chaplin. I waited an hour 
and a half in a doorway once just to sce 
plin walk out of a building in New 
« I couldn't believe he was really hu- 
. That's what television does today 
and everybody thought it was such a bad 
deal that our pictures were being shown 
on the Late Show and we weren't getting 
any money for it. But it was the greatest 
publicrelations thing we ever had. Td 
like to sce a special comedy channel cre- 
ated on TV, where all these great clowns. 
like Jackie Gleason and Red Skelton and. 
Sid Caesar, who have been sitting around 
for a couple of years, could do their stuff. 
I think the Government should subsidize 
them, instead of some of this garbage you 
sce on the educational channel. We spend 
so much money on stupid things, why not 
entertain the public? 
PLAYBOY: Governments a 
having a sense of humor. 
Hope: Maybe not, but I can hear a lot of 
laughing in the background around tax 
time. Laughter is important for the coun- 
iry because laughter is therapy—it makes 
you forget meat. If you can laugh once or 
twice a day, it relieves a hell of a lot of 
tension 
PLAYBOY: You were one movie with 
W. С. Fields. probably the most icono- 
clastic comedian we've ever had. Was he 
your kind of comic? 
Hope: That was my first picture, The Big 
Broadcast of 1938, and 1 got to know 
Fields a little n't ordinarily 
talk to many people, you kno 
strange cat and had his own little group. 
1 was in his dressing room one day when 
a nice little man from the Community 
Fund, a charity we all used to give money 
to, came by and he said, “Mr. Fields, we 
haven't received your donation" And 
Fields said, “Well, I only belicye in the 
S.E.B.F. Association,” and the nice little 
n from the fund office said, “What is 
And Fields said, "Screw Everybody 
But Fields.” I think he liked me because 
he'd heard some of my one-liners. He 
liked my joke about the drunk who came 
down to the bar in the morning and 
asked for a Scotch and the bartender 
1, and the guy said, “I 

couldn't stand the noise." 

PLAYBOY: Who makes you laugh today? 
108 HOPE: Oh, I laugh at a lot of people, I 


PLAYBOY 


ent noted for 


really do. We have one writer named 
Charley Lee—we call him Grumpy; he 
makes me laugh. A lot of my writers 
make me laugh. They have great senses 


of humor. Shecky Greene and Don 
Rickles and Benny and Jessel, they all 
make me laugh, When Jessel rattles his 


medals, I fall down. Jimmy Durante 
doubles me up; he's one of the greatest 
guys around. I used to laugh a lot at 
Groucho when we hung 


carly. I'd say, "What are you doing: 
he'd say, “1 want to break in the room." 
Funny, really fu 
PLAYBOY: Do any of the younger comics 
make you laugh? 

HOPE: God, yes. Mort Sahl and Woody 
Allen, they're great. Bur my favorite was 
Lenny Bruce. The first time I ever saw 
him was about 14 ye 
g at Paramount in a picture and he was 
playing in a little Hollywood club, sort 
of a converted grocery store. I went over 
there for the first show and the place was 
about half filled and we had a great time. 
He did one routine where he called the 
Pope on the phone and told him he 
could get him on the Ed Sudlivan Show 
he wore the big ring and would send him 
some cightbyien glossies, and two or 
three people got up from the audience 
and walked out. Of course, today that 
scems so tame. 

I saw Lenny several time 
The last time I saw him was at El Patio 
in Florida. I'd seen everybody else on the 
Beach and I just saw а litle ad saying, 
“Lenny Bruce at E] Patio, nd 1 said, 
"We've got to go.” We went out there and 
I sat way in the back. In those days, 
planes were falling going from New 
York to Miami, for some reason or other, 
so he walked to the mike and he said, “A 
ane left New York today for Miami 
md made it.” That was his opening, not 
ello” or anything. And then he told 
the audience I was there and he shouted, 
“Hey, Bob, where are you?” And I said, 
“Right here, Lenny." And he said, “To- 
night Fm going to knock you right on 
your ass" And he did. Funny material, 
this cat! He did an impression of Jack 
Paar on the toilet, looking around the 
i lking, you know? Then he did 


phisticated material, but he had some- 
thing. He had so much grease paint in 
his blood, it came out in his act. That's 
what J Joved about him. He talked our 
language. 

PLAYBOY: You've made a lot of movies 
over the years, but your biggest hits were 
in the Forties and Fifties, Do you think 
Hollywood has been going downhill 
since then? 

HOPE: No question about it. The movie 
audience has shrunk [rom 80,000,000 to 
about 14,000,000. Partly it was television, 
but also it’s the dirty pictures. Theyre 
doing things on the screen today I 


wouldn't do on my honeymoon. I can't 
believe what they're showing on the 
screen. I remember the days when Holly 
wood was looking for new faces. Parents 
aren't going to send their kids to see stag 
material, so they tie them down in front 
of the tele 
at those two old guys dancing on th 
wity to utopia. 

PLAYBOY: What do you mean by stag mate- 
rial? Would you consider Last Tango in 
Paris a мар movi? 

HOPE: І want to sce it, but I can't get a 
note from my doctor. Look. 1 don't 
object to dirty material. I love dirty 
jokes. I tell more dirty jokes than 
body. I tell them at the golf club, 
when I get brave IH tell one to my wife, 
if 1 have my track shoes on. Bar to expose 
this Kind of stuff to kids I think is a 
shame. I also think our business has lost 
so much prestige overseas, because we 
used to send such fabulous pictures all 
over the world, and the pictures we make 
represent our country and the morals of 
our country. I think they should have 
special theaters just for that stull—X 
ated theaters. 

PLAYBOY: They do. Thats where movies 
like Deep Throat arc shown to adults 
only. 

HOPE: Deep Throat—I thought that was 
an animal picture. ] thought it was about 
a giraffe. I haven't seen й, but I've heard. 
about it and I don't believe it. But my 
point is that mothers take their children 
to sce a dean picture and they'll have a 
preview for next week showing people in 
bed doing all the acts. Thats what I 
object to. People come up to me when 
Im traveling around the count 4 
they squawk like hell about it. Our busi- 
ness used to be a glamorous business. 
Now you don't sce any big openings any- 
more. You know why? It's because a lot 
of people don't want to be seen going 
into the theater. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think the recent Su- 
preme Court decisions against hard-core 
pornography are on the right track? 

HOPE: Oh, definitely. Ihe hard-core stuff 
could harm kids Pictures like Deep 
Throat and The Devil in Miss Jones are 
dangerous pictures. I hear a lot of young 
couples arc going to sec these movies 
now, but we don't even know if they're 
married or not. It has to affect their lives 
in some way. 

PLAYBOY: Isn't it possible that people 
might learn something constructive by 
going to sce a pornographic movie? 
HOPE: І don't sec how any public exhibi- 
tion of this kind can do any good. I thi 
it could lead to disaster in many cases. To 
day the sort of people who need help can 
go and buy a sex book. They don't have 
to go out in public and see that kind 
of thing on the screen. We now have sex 
books and sex counselors. For a few dol- 
lars, Masters and Johnson will come to 
your house and sit on your piano and do it 
PLAYBOY: Much of what you say about 


ion set and tell them to look 


There they 
sat. Like a bomb 
waiting to go off. 


20 of the world's 
ns and Lolas 
ever to meet on the same track. 
Am chal- 
lenge race 
hty times around a 2%-mile 
of frightening turns and 
see 
speeds in excess of 200 mph. 
But, right now, the most power- 


st Porsches, 
The Can- P: 
al despite ace 
siraightaways that would 
ful car on the course was a bright 


yellow mid-engine Porsche 914. 
The car that would pace this race 
аа 

Which was fitting. The 914 was 
designed hy the same engineers 
who designed and built the mid- 


Porsche 


engine Porsche 917s 
that were racing that 
day. They gave it a 2.0- 
liter engine, 5-speed gear- 
box, rack-and-pinion steering, and 
fantastic mid-engine balance. 

It is, as Mossport puts it, “the 
ideal pace car. 

“IPs quick enough to keep out in 
front of those big Can-Am cars. 
And it’s probably the hest looking 
pace car we've ever had.” 

So for one lap, that’s how it went. 
20 big racing Porsches, McLarens 
and Lolas, led by one Porsche 914. 


Come to where 
the flavor is. 


) Country. 


You gel a lot to like 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
CRE Thot Cigarette Smoking ls Dangerous to Your Health. 
av. per cigarette, FIC Report Feb: 73. 


America today seems to express а long: 
ing many people feel for a time when 
things were presumably better. Do you 
remember such a time? Do you think the 
mood of the country was better when you 
were young? 
HOPE: Not to me. I w: 
known. I remember a time I was playing 
Evansville, Indiana. It was about my 
third date on the road after opening in 
Chicago. 1 rehearsed and then | went 
into the restaurant and bought a paper 
to check my billing. It said, “The Golden 
Bird," which was t had a bird 
that answered questi somethin 
and underneath that 1. "and Ben 
Hope.” I threw up right at the table, and 
then I walked into the managers olfice 
and I said, “Whats the idea spelli 
And he said, 
id, “Bob 
He said, “Who knows but you 
mes have changed for me since then, 
thank God. Last summer I played the Ar- 
lington Park Fair near Chicago and the 
theater is outdoors s 
pretty suong rain and Joey Н 
iy dancing in the rain, with 40,000 people 
sitting there and nobody's moving. They 
sat there and cheered. When I came out, 
, "Joey Heatherton dancing in the 
inds me of Danang,” and they 
all went “Yee: 
membered u 
dience today. 1 played a lot of different 
dates this summer and everywhere I went 
I felt things really couldn't he better 
Naturally, a lot of things upset them, like 
е, but basically they re 
frightens you most about. 
the country today? 
HOPE: That I'll vun out of tax money 
PLAYBOY: Nothing about the state of our 
society today worries you? 
HOPE: Let me tell you something. This 
country is so strong, our people are so 
strong, that nothing's going to happen to 
this system. They've enjoyed this system 
too much, and I dink that when it 
gets down to the short licks, everybody's 
going to think the same. Now, the Demo- 
ts I know, they were saying it just the 
other day, we've got ro stop making a 


n't that well 


PLAYBOY 


my name Ben Hope? 
“Well, what's your п 
Hope 

1 


public exhibition of the country's poli- 
tics and get back to taking c 


of the na- 
tion's business. I think the people fecl 
the same way, becausc I get around with 
a lot of the people and I talk to them and 
boy, they're strong. You should tr 
with me around this country and get 
some of these cities and talk to these 
people and dig the way they feel. It’s de- 
lightful to go into a residential section of 
Minneapolis or Oklahoma City or any. 
where, I don't care where it is, San 
Francisco and Seattle, and sce wonderful 
families living the good life, with two or 
three cars. They aren't going to let this 
stuff slip away from them. They're well 
established and they like this system we 
110 have, because we have the greatest system 


in the world. There’s nothing like it and, 
though we may have our problems here 
and there, we're not going to let it get 
away from us. I know that. I meet the 
wonderful people and I get the feeling of 
them and what they are thinking about. 
Americans are a great people and they 
ve great lives. You come away very 
proud of them, 

PLAYBOY: You're talking about the white 
middle class. How about the 25,000,000 
poor whites, blacks, chicanos and In 
t of the 


part of it? 
HOPE: Maybe the best thing about our sys 


tem is the opportunity it gives people to 
make something of their lives, [ think 
most people want the good life; they 
want to live in nice houses and eat well 
and have some of the material things. 
And if you don’t want them, nobody's 
forcing you to have them, right? All our 
system offers anybody is a chance to make 
good and live well. It’s not perfect, but 
it's the best there is. Let's face it, Bing 
was from a very poor Catholic family. 
And F tra was from a very poor 
ly. In what other country in 
the world could a meatball and a piece of 
spaghetti command so much bread? 
PLAYBOY: If you couldn't be a comedi. 
what would you do with your life? 
HOPE: I'd probably have a chain of restau- 
rants or hotels, something like that, 
where I could appeal to the tastes of 
people. I've always thought about. that, 
because I dig food and Гуе always no- 
ticed how different resi 
tract people. That's onc thing I di 
vaudeville. When the other guys were eat- 
ing in the Greek restaurants, 1 would al 
ays find a tearoom and get the dainty 
food, because I loved that. I used to go 
up to the stagehands and 
where's a tearoom around her 
look at me like I was a fag, bu 


got the best stomach in town just from 
being careful 
PLAYBO: true that you've given a lot 


of money to universities and schools? 
HOPE: Yes, but the only thing FI tell you 
about that is that they named an clemen- 
tary school in San Antonio after me, The 
kids voted to name the school and I went 
down there and 1 got up and said, 
flattered because the kids themselves se- 
lected me. It just goes to prove how 

ys go for а person who is 
alented, and whose 


PLAYBOY: ls it wue that you're one of the 
richest men in the world? 

HOPE: That's what they say. 1 wish some- 
body would tell me where all the money 
is. Some guy in a article said I 
5 the richest n 1 Amer 
J. Paul Getty. Listen, Getty sends me а 
CARE package every year. This money 
bout me is silly. 1 started working 
in vaudeville for five dollars a day and I 
haye my house paid for and I'm a mil- 


е, OK, but this stuff they've been 
writing in tne magazines is absolutely vi 
diculous One guy said I was worth 
5500.000,000. It’s become like some of the 
movie magazines you read. You know, 
"Does John Wayne sleep with a night 


light?" They just put this stuff in. Its a 
provocative style of reporting and it sells 
magazines. It’s just like the dirty movies; 


it's all for the money. Say, you don't want 
me to pose for the centerfold, do you? 
PLAYBOY: It hadn't occurred to us. 
Hore: A couple of magazines have asked 
me to. J told them 1 wouldn't do it unless 
I could carry a catcher's mitt. 1 saw that 
one with Burt Reynolds. It didn't prove. 
anything except that he's left-handed. 
PLAYBOY: So you're not worth half a bil- 
lion, but youre doing all right. There 
was an item in a Los Angeles paper a 
while back saying that you had turned 
down $40,000,000 or so for 327 acres of 
prime Malibu land with occan frontage. 
Is that true? 
HOPE: When you're through with rLaynoy 
would you like to be a real-estate agent? 
Irs wue, 1 do own some property in 
Malibu, but it’s not exactly ocean. front- 
age, except in case of a very high tide 
Right now we can't do anything with the 
property because of the ecological restric- 
tions. Not that I have anything against 
ecology. I'm looking forward to breathing 
again. 
PLAYBOY: When did you buy all that 
real estate? 
Hore: Oh, Гус been buying si 
Crosby and I struck oil down 
back in the Forties. It was a big str 
had a lot of wells and we made a good 
capital gain on it. To Crosby, it wouldn't 
have made any diflerence if he'd struck 
orange juice. He's been living on White 
Christmas for 20 years. I put the money I 
made in oil into property. That's where 
I got whatever I've got. All the rest of my 
попеу went to the Government, all the 
money I ever made from pictures and 
radio. The taxes grabbed me, 
PLAYBOY: What are your aspirations now? 
HoPE: To keep working. I'm going to do 
a movie based on the life of V 
chell, either a movie or a two-episode rele- 
vi: i love with the idea. 
l knew Winchell, I went through that 
whole cra. I'll really enjoy that. 
PLAYBOY: You seem to be always involved 
in something and constantly on d 
move. Why? 
HOPE: I've always lived that way. The 
always so much to do. I've been in town 
a whole week this time and 1 don't re- 
member ever being home this much 
Im always working on something— 
movies, specials, bencfts, fairs, running 
out to wave at the tour bus. A star's work 
is never done. 
PLAYBOY: What 
after 607 
HOPE: You bet. 
Especially the one 


we 1949. 
Texas 


about sex? Is there sex 


And awfully good. too. 


the fall. 
E 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


He's a man whose holiday giving reflects his year-round generosity. To him, the unexpected 
gift is the most happily received. And when he's making his choice, price is seldom a major con- 
sideration. Fact: The average yearly gift expenditure for PLAYBOY's 21 million readers is a hefty 
$470. Those readers and PLAYBOY form America’s greatest male marketplace. That's a win- 
ning combination for advertisers at holiday time or anytime. (Source: Playboy and the Gift Market.) 


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


112 


ШШ 
di 


ERTAINLY Di. Krommbach 
never expected sex on Christ- 
mas Eve, though perhaps the 
telephone should have fore- 
warned him. It rang con- 
stantly, always with some thick 
tongue at the other end. “Ida, 
swcetic piel” On any other day, 
Dr. Krommbach would have 
turned on МОХЕ very loud 
to drown out rings invariably 
dressed to someone else. 
the telephone decided the greeting 
preceding, Dr. Krommbuch’s son Theodore 
I called twice or more, Dr. Krommbach wou'd add a per 
sonal note to the printed text of the card. However, Theo had 
called just once so far, back in April, and had spoken so hur- 
tiedly Dr. Krommbach couldn't understand the name of his 
new grandchild. Now, on Christmas 3:05 vax, the 
telephone shrilled aguin—this time for a La Mañana Liquor 

Theo's chance had expired. Dr. Krommbach uncapped 
pen to sign “Father.” Nothing more. He affixed 
mail stamp. plus an underlined AIRMAIL sticker to alert 
I too frequently delinquent postal system. The only other 
ical chore before the trip downtown was typing out an 
explanation to the new reverend. 


But on December 24th. 
card. I, in the y 


To the Reverend of Saint Philip the Apostle: 

he enclosed gold ducat is worth by yesterd: 
tion a little more than 20 (twenty) dollars. It is donated 
by the undersigned on behalf of Frau Emma Philip of 
Vienna, who kept the undersigned and his son Theo 
hidden for two days, November 9th to November 1101, 
1938, the so-called Crystal Night pogrom ol the Hider era, 

On departing Ior the U.S. A., the undersigned was given 
by Frau Philip a gold ducat so that a church in the New 
World would light candles in the memory of Frau Philip's 
mother, deceased on Christmas Eve. The undersigned did 
this on arrival in this country in 1939 and has repeated the 


з quota 


custom ever since with 


dependently obtained ducats at 
the Church of Saint Philip the Apostle. Frau Philip's 
mother was named Emma Heugl. If the ducat is sold at a 
future date, its value should increase in view of the upward. 
tendency of gold. 


Yours sincerely, 
Dr. Abraham Krommbach 


Dr. Krommbach polished the laurcHaced profile of Emperor 
Franz Joseph. Nowadays, even dealers on Madison Avenue 
sold coins in dulled condition. This new inattentive pricst 
might disregard the note and confuse an indifferentlooking 
ducat with some sort of big penny. Dr. Krommbach placed. 
the gleaming disk in his purse, which he buttoned into the 
pickpocketproof right inside pocket of his jacket. Next the 
thermometer outside his window was to be consulted throug! 
the magnifying glass. Forty-six degrees. To that figure three 
ded, for such was the difference in temper 
Iway. Di. Krommbach 
decided on the lighter of his two overcoats and on the silk 
rather than the wool scarf. The card to Theo he posted on 
West End Avenue, where collections were unjustifiably more 
frequent than at the Riverside Drive mailbox; and, on walking 
to Broadway. he experienced frosty gusts that made him wish 
for the heavier coat after all. A certain contraction troubled 
his bladder. 

However, this passed and the southbound bus for which 
Dr. Krommbach often recorded waiting periods up to 17 
minutes came auspiciously fast. Dr. Krommbach did not 
observe his Jewish faith (cultural pride in it was a different 
matter). nor was he a romanticizer of Christianity. But he 
did like auspiciousness on Christmas Eve. There was some- 
us about the Church of Saint Philip the Apostle, 
ly in its name for which Dr. Krommbach had. 
selected it years ago. Saint Philip’s held an auspicious afternoon 
Mass (in addition to the midnight one), so Dr. Krommbach 
could avoid the dirk and ntage of the pre-four 
Pat, senior citizen discount on the bus 

Furthermore, there had been somethin 


а auspicious about 


fiction 
BY FREDGRIS MORGON 


it was almost sacred to him— 
so how could the coin open up a 
world of whores and horrors? 


the portly priest officiating at Sai 
Philip's for so many Christmas Eves. He 
had an accent like that liule Irish film 
actor. “Och, God bless you, sir, yours or 
ours,” he used to say to Dr. Krorimbach. 
"It sure wouldn't be Christmas without 
you.” But last усаг, of course, the new 
priest had appeared at Mass, a much 
younger man with thin fingers drumming 
against his vestments, This person hadn't 
seemed to understand the purpose of Dr. 
Krommbach's ducat. In fact, he had 
looked so uninterested Dr. Krommbach 
had not asked where the facility for gen- 
temen was in the rather pretentiously 
remodeled church. 

Dr. Krommbach wondered if he should 
place his address on the upper-left-hand 
corner. But in these peculiar times, it was 
bette way too much infor 
mation. At any rate, Dr. Krommbach’s 
n could not support w g in the 
jolting twilight of the bus, And as he de 
barked into the winds of West 46th Street, 
he realized that the vehicle's bad springs 
ped awake in his bladder his 
need for a lavatory 

On bygone Ch 


PLAYBOY 


s Eves, when Dr. 
traveled downtown 
with his ducat, the Great White Way had 
seemed almost tropical, quite warmer 
than the Upper West Side. But now 
Times Square reminded him of —well, of 
nded in the arctic. The 
abbed like icicles, puckered 
under Dr. Krommbach’s gloves. 
Low ıd whistles (апей йош crevices 
in walls. Through his soles, the pave- 
ment struck icily into his very bladder. 
Saint Philip the Apostle was still more 
than two cross-town blocks distant. Dr. 
Krommbach concluded that he would 
have to use a facility soon. But in all the 
rs along the way there leaned Negro 
dandies whose broad-brimmed hats ob- 
scured rashes caught (presumably) from 
the very ladics these pimps offered so gar- 
Шу on the sidewalks. Around the cor 
ner of West 45th Street, however, Dr. 
Krommbach noticed some white men in 
solid-gray overcoats (two were carrying 
briefcases) leave a restaurant, It seemed 
to be a very modern establishment, for 
Dr. Krommbach's watering eyes could not 
discover a sign. Since he was under con- 
siderable internal pressure, he decided to 
go in. He found himself in a magazine 
store opening into nothing less providen- 
al than a public lavatory with booths. 
It was really like a Christmas gift. Dr. 
Krommbach appreciated how rare pub- 
lic conveniences were in New York. 
Rarer still was the fact that the place 
looked clean, without offensive smells. A 
loudspeaker tinkled, and though Dr. 
Krommbach did not care for the Ru- 
dolph Reindeer song. he thought it an 
amiable gesture, A tall man. equally ami- 
able, pointed to a booth. 
“You can lock it, Pop. 
Inside the booth, Dr. Krommbach 
144 found a second door with a slot saying 


256. Of course; a civilized convenience 
like this could not be expected to be free 
in America. Dr. Krommbach inserted a 
quarter. And he didn’t realize his mistake 
until it was too late. 

It was too late, even though he knew 
instantly, from the very clink, that it was 
his gold ducat that had dropped down. 
His heart pounded, but the door, too, the 
door in front of him, responded to the cà 
lamity. It developed a burning point in 
the middle, an aperture, to be exact, 
which lit up and twitched furiously, and 
Dr. Krommbach, astounded, realized that 
in front of him was not the gate to a pay 
toilet at all but a hole through which a 
film could be viewed. 

Instinctively he bent forward and there 
was a nude bony Asiatic woman on her 
spread knees, riding (to put it mildly) on 
the mouth of a mulatto female while a 
white woman occupied herself with the. 
breasts of the Asian, their various lipsticl 
smeared mouths rigidly open to display 
ecstasy and the heaving of these 
much-too-thin bodies making the specta- 
cle even more squalid. 

His gold ducat had unleashed that! 

Dr. Krommbach recoiled, turned. fled, 
but in his rush mishandled the lock; he 
pushed the hook down instead of up. and 
when he realized the error and tried to 
open the door properly, the hook wi 
jammed fast into the loop. Once more Dr. 
Krommbach tried, but he could not exert 
enough leverage in the eramped twilight, 
and dic sound wack of the film, iis groans 
nd whispered under- 
mined his strength. The hook would sim- 
ply not budge from the loop, tho 
Krommbach sprained his already rheu 
matic left thumb in the «ог. He did 
find the lighter in his pocket (he still car- 
ried his old Viennese lighter, though he 
had had to give up cigars years ago), yet 
even the blunt end of this instrument 
could not hammer the hook out of the 


loop. Meanw! d 
begun to yodel in what sounded like or- 
giastic Malaysian, and Dr. Krommbach 


knew he had to start shouting himsell. 
“Sirt” 

ger out! 
“What's the matter, Pop: 
“The hook is jammed! 
“What? 
"I have put the wrong coin in the slot!” 
“A slug? You upset the machine! What 

the fuck is the matter wi 


апа back. Let me try! . .. Shit” 
“This place is improperly identified" 
Now, take it easy, Pop." 
"am dueat the Church of saint Philip! 
u had better inform the police! 
"TH get the mechanic." 
n going to file a complaint!" 
immer down, Pop. Ber 
"Hello! . .. Hello, 
The man was gone. Some terribly 
heavy breathing issued from the peep- 
hole. Then the three women blacked 


out into silence. Sure enough. Dr. 
Krommbach, who had adjusted to the 
dark, noticed another sign saying SIX PART 
SFRIES QUARTER EACH. Dr. Krommbach, 
hering strength from this respite, at- 
acked the hook again just as the peep- 
hole began to burn and twitch and rasp 
anew. Yes, the three women reappeared. 
this time forming an abominable Y on a 
bed, tongues and orifices connecting with 
slurping ferocity. Such was the perverted 
power of the ducat that it unreeled the 
entire series, which otherwise demanded 
six separate coins! Dr. Krommbach was 
furious as well as appalled. He kicked 
the peephole, If anything, this had a sti 
ulating effect on the Chinese woman. 
who reared up buttocks first and once 
more crooned her adenoidal ecstasy. Dr. 
Krommbach, beyond thought, acting in 
sheer reflex, lashed out with his cane. 
The door flew open—the hook must have 
been knocked away. 

Dr. Krommbach stood outside. in the 
le between the booths, trying to calm 
his lungs, leaning on his cane, whose han- 
dle had been badly scratched. Through 
h breath Dr. Krommbach heard the 
tinkle of Rudolph the Reindeer, and 
when he consulted his watch (his wrist 
hurting as he turned it). the time was 
37. He could not reach Saint Philip 
the Apostle for Mass, and even if he 
did, the gold ducat would still be here, 
driving those thin awful women throi 
their contortions 

Aud there was nobody to help. The 
door of the establishment opened. not to. 
admit the proprictor or the mechanic 
(Dr. Krommbadrs one quickly dimin- 
ishing hope for the retrieval of the 
ducit. A man in a long United States 
Army overcoat pitched in, together with 
frosty lights and shadows from Times 
Square. The disappointment added to 
the weight on Dr. Krommbach's bladder 
па threw the floor beneath into a tilt. 
aint 
iout com- 
memoration of Frau Emma Philip's kind- 
ness, the 20th Centu ady faltering, 
would collapse altogether. The moral 
supports were melting and the flames of 

mes Square the world. 
ps an irrational thought. D 
Krommbach had to get away from the in- 
fectious insanity of the place. But he 
couldn't move toward the street, because 
the man in the overcoat extended his arm 


"Here's twenny cents,” he said. 

1 am mot in charge here,” 
Krommbach said. 

“C'mon. What's the best lookic 
wookie? 


ou shall have to wait for the propric- 
tor,” Dr. Krommbach said, indignant at 
this new trial. 

“Better gimme the nummer-one ac 
tion!" the man said, advancing on Dr 
Krommbich, He had a rather distin- 
guished red beard, which deserved better 
(concluded on page 252) 


"But I told you, Miss Cromski lives next door." 


ns 


THE 
b 
WEAKNESS 


when richard nixon finally got a chance to 
fight back, he wasn’t sure he was up to it. 
so he hired the dirtiest guns in the east 


ray Farry in Nixon's first term, he held a bachelor 
" sympathetic 


dinner in the White House for "intellectu 
10 his reign. (It goes without saying that the gathering was 
а small one.) One guest at the meal said, later, he had 
looked forward to hearing from the President himself, 
from such little known quantities as Haldeman and Ehr- 
lichman, or from the other guests. But John Mitchell was 
the man who commandeered the table. steered and owned 
the conversation, thumped down opinions, course by 
question—and, all the while, 
proud 


course, not pausing for 
Nixon fairly hung on his [riend's words, looking 
of his performance. The least interesting man present had 
succeeded in interesting the one man who counted 

It is difficult now, after his fall, to appreciate the magic 
of John Mitchell's brutishness in its full blossom. Only a 
slight touch of that charm lingered when he appeared, 
rheumy-eyed and mottled, before Sam Ervin's committ 


a acc of the old manner preserved long after its base had. 
been eroded. This trapped man could muster heartier con- 
tempt for his baiters than they could bring to bear on him 
Without a leg to stand on, he remained stronger than 
most of the preceding witnesses, A worshiper of power 
could still be impressed—William $. White wrote a column 
full of praise: “In John Mitchell the President selected a 
mun and mot some spuriously golden-haired boy." But 
White learned, in his L B.J. days, to enjoy being bullied 
Most viewers saw only a lumpish insensitivity under the 
loose veil of liver spots woven aver Mitchell's fac 

To sce what Mitchell looked like by candlelight to Rich- 
ard Nixon, we must recall his time of power: seiting up a 
Government, taking on a job (at Justice) without bother- 
15. casually suggesting to his 
predecessor (Ramsey Clark) that a friendly gesture initi 


ing to learn its requireme 


ated by Clark—alter all Nixon's campaign attacks—would 
make the transition go smoother. Just before lic w 
in, Mitchell condescended 10 dispatch a young 
Kevin Phillips—to scout out his new assignment. Phillips 
seemed weirdly uninquisitive to those trying to instruct. 
him in routines of the department—as if any q 
would imply selEquestioning, convict him of Clark's own 
dubiety or hesitance. But Phillips made it clear he was not 
worthy to unlatch his master’s sandal when it came to 


estion 


opinion 


By GARRY WILLS . 


selLassurance: "Of course, Clark came up 
through the ranks and is more chummy 
h his stall than an outsider would be. 
But Mr. Mitchell wiil be the only pe 
y in that room when he takes over. 
The others will be his assistants.” Later, 
Mitchell would pur this minion in hi 
place: When asked if he agreed w 
Phillips’ Southern strategy. outlined i 
merging Republican Majority, he 
1 don't really have a practice of 
subscribing to the theories of my aides. 
erally works the other way.” 
ps whether 
he had become disillusioned with Mitch- 
ell yet, and he replied: “I saw through 
him eight months ago." It took him, i 
other words, only four years—and Phil- 
lips is a bright young man, not one to lin 
ger with a los 
Yet Phillips. in the long run, gives us 
no better cue than White to the original 


PLAYBOY 


force of Мисће in his friend's Adminis- 


tration. White liked being kicked, and 
Phillips was going to arrogance school— 
pt pupil to à master teacher. Nixon, on 
the other hand, prefers kicking when he 
can get away with it, and realizes it is 100 
latc for him to acquire an imperturb 
surance. Besides, the mys- 
tery of that White House dinner is only 
partly tied to Nixons own admiration 


сапу steps in office. There is even 
greater puzzlement in Nixon's use of the 
for this unlikely assignment. The 
dinner was meant to woo, however dis- 
creetly, men from a sector of the popula- 
tion hostile to this Administration —even 
though in the past, ed 
that he thinks of h 
tal, too. He works 1 
arcas he knows wel 
ncc) an empty dilettante in 
policy matters. As he once told 
Jules Witcover: “In order to make a deci- 
ion, an individual should sit on his rear 
nd dig into the books." Nixon takes 
fied pride in the number of books— 
nd the number of countries—he has 
“dug into” by sheer dint of study. Yet no 
one. not even Nixon in his most smitten 
days, could think of Mitchell as a very 
great digger into books. The man never 
hid his contempt for academicians—look, 
for God's sake, at the salaries they get. 
Challenged by party regulars over his 
lack of political experience before the 
1968 campaign, Mitchell just reminded 
them of the money he had made—for 
him, that skill was the measure of all 
others. Asked if he might be awed now 
boss was President of the United 
he told an interviewer: “I've made 
more money in the practice of the law 
than Nixon, brought more clients into 
the firm, cin hold my own in argument 
with him and, as far as I'm concerned, 1 
can deal with him as an equal.” No mere 
professor can make that boast. 
Mitchell was as unlikely to imy 
118 tellectuals as they were to upset 


N 


an intellec- 
the 


tudes 
1970 pronouncement; "[Nixon is] aware 
of everything that’s going on. ГЇ! tell you 
who's not informed, though. Its these 
stupid kids... . And the professors are 
just as bad. if not worse, They don’t 
Nor do these stupid bas 
re running our educational 
ixon has, indeed, certain 
impressive claims to being an intellectu- 
al, which just deepens the mystery: Why 
has he been, from the days of Murray 
Chotiner to the days of Char es Colson, 
an intellectual who trave's in the compa 
ny of thugs? It wou'd be one thing if he 
used them as his buffer when 
with the harsher side of politics—to awe 
the businessmen or show regulars how 
tough he is. But he brings out his less 
appetizing specimens precisely when he 
wants to move into circles where he 
should feel at home himself. 

But of course he is not at home among 
even the friend’iest intellecua’s. He 
talked once of teaching ne of the 
fine schools Oxford, for instance," if he 
lost his bid for the Presidency. Nothing 
could be less likely. Cast by history on 
the side of pseudo-Populist anti-establish- 
mentarians like Joe McCarthy, Nixon 
who lacked their relish for assaults on 
doomed to champion the 
‘common folk” against uncommon clites. 
He continues to star in that comedy. even 
the Administration that will 
play in Peoria,” though Nixon his les 
of the common touch tha 
of modern times. He hide: 
ionaires, decking out his White House 
with trumpets and formality; he never 
feels шо п when secluded 
th a German professor talking about 
Asiatic statesmen. Nixon is a psschically 
displaced person—nor th the 
ir attacks 
not at home in 
blishment, even when its power 

ve been put in his control. He 
y intruder—pirouctting 
from aggression to obsequiousness in mid- 
sentence. wooing and afironting at the 
same time. He mixes his delerence with 
resentment, his admiration with envy, i 
ways that make him a man of halt-gestures 
and permanently checked impulse. 

"That alone can explain his dinner and 
the Mitchell monolog. He was saying, by 
their mere in n, that he wanted 
these men and could use their help. But 
he was simultaneously anticipating rebuff, 
letting Mitchell signal that he did not 
really need them. He does not have the 
righteous contempt for excellence that 
his Wallacelike role demands—he must 
Jean on the brutal types for that. He 
relies on them to be worse than he is in 
front of those he obscurely considers bet- 
ter than he is. It is a curiously self-cflac- 
ing assertiveness—he "toughs it out 
through his minions because he is 100 
sensitive and intelligent to do his own 


contemning. He travels with thugs be- 
ке he is nor a thug himself{—these are 
sensitivities. He told Theodore 
n an unusually revealing inter- 
1 never shoot blanks.” He meant 


view 
that his bullyboys don't. Just as he said 


he knew nothing about Watergatc—"the 
boys,” as Mitchell called them, were sup- 
posed to take care of that. The tone was 
set by that Attorney General whose first 
judyment over Watergate was that “Kay 
Graham has her tit caught in a wringer 
Nixons perpetually off-guard a 
ward attitude in most company—but 
most of all in company he respects—led 
indirectly (his only direction) to Water- 
gate. Power 
when it fe 


ational security). Our Fed- 
overnment has been an unwieldy 
t for decades; but now it is a fearful 
giant the kind we have best reason to 
fear. It is the man who wanted to teach 
t "one of the fine schools" whose aides 
tried to cut off MIT grants, whose Vice- 
President attacked Yale's president, 
whose closest advisor called university 
heads “stupid bastards,” whose apologists 
mounted the most sustained threat of 
censorship since World War Two. The 

n who considers himself an intellectu 


al hay run an Administration openly at 
war with intellectuals. It is indicative 
that Nixon chose, as his fine school, 


a foreign one. not native. Mitchell 
might grump that no school run by the 
stupíd bastards could be really good. But 
Nixon must have felt that none in Amer- 
ica would have him. Dithery Hubert. 
dewlapped with half a century's chin 
ng, was hired to lecture 
ply) at Minnesota. Eugene Mc 
poetically hesitant, was posed i 
of a poetry seminar in Mary 
owing he knows more than 
well enough he would ve 
ture onto the campus as an alien. almost 
as a capti play picce—and 
in grasping that inequity. he laid the 
asis for his friends’ intense hatred of 
outsider 
Outsiders, 


to the Nixon 
all those who might misunderstand or 
wrong their leader—as he was wronged 
so often in the past. It was bad enough to 
be humiliated in the press, or mocked by 
the pretentions, when he was a private 
citizen. But for a President to be mis 
treated is a national disgrace. No precau 
tion could be ned when this was at 
tke. The White House guard had to 
about demonsu not only 
assed outside the White House but slip- 
ping into it—a woman might step for- 
Ч out of a singing group and 
insulting banner, musicians might refuse 
to play Hail to the Chief, some un- 
considered worshiper might pray for 
peace at a prayer breakfast. A composer's 
(continued on page 138) 


men, were 


Li 
~ 


E 
$ 


3 


lor ma or many centuries” 


y 4 the Roman Catholic Church was op- 
By posed to translating the Holy Scriptures 
into the “vulgar tongue." Co this day, 
you can still get rid of a Bible salesman € 
7 by saying, “But we are Catholics and, Y 
of course, don't read the Bible.” Che SFB 
) Catholic hierarchy included subtle theo- C 
LON logians and scholars who knew very XL 
Pa Well that such a diverse and difficult collection — 
|" of ancient writings, taken as tbe literal Word of God, would — 
> pe wildly and dangerously interpreted if put into the bands H 
Jw ef ignorant and uneducated peasants. Likewise, whenamission- J 
ary boasted to George Bernard Shaw of the numerous converts be Vi 
4 bad made, Shaw asked, “Can these people use rifles?” “Ob, indeed, FA 
mE yes,” said the missionary. “Some of them are very good shots.” — 177 
` Ў bereupon Shaw scolded bim for putting us all in peril-in the day 
ASU When those converts waged holy war against us for not following the 
V VA Bible in the literal sense they gave to it. For the Bible says, _ 
y “What a good thing it is when the Lord puttetb into the bands Y 
a Of the righteous invincible might.” But today, especially $ 
7 in the United States, there is a taboo against admitting that yay 
abere are enormous numbers of stupid and ignorant people, < 
ENS 0 inthe bookisband literate sense of these words.Chey ус 
УД may be highly intelligent im the arts of farming, ( a 
№ Manufacture, engineering and finance, and even yc 
| N in Physics, chemistry or medicine. But tbis A 
j intelligence does not automatically flow 4 
p> 2 over to the fields of history, archaeology, HEM 7 
linguistics, theology, philosophy and gaz 
Pits ZA RAR V ASA t 


PLAYBOY 


122 Catholic, Jew or Mos 


mythology—which are what one needs to 
know in order to make any sense out of 
such archaic literature as the books of 
the Bible 

This may sound snobbish, for there is 
an assumption that, in the Bible, God 
gave His message in plain words for 
plain people. Once, when I had giv 
radio broadcast in Canada, the annou 
er took me aside and said, "Don't you 
think that if there is a truly loving God, 
He would have given us 2 plain and 
specific guidebook as to how to live 
our lives?” 

“On the contrary," I replied, “a truly 
loving God would not stultify our minds. 
He would encourage us to think for om 
selves." I tried, then, to show him that his 
belicf in the divine authority of the Bible 
rested on nothing more than his own per- 
ion, to which, of course, he was 


the Bible, the church, the state. or of any 
spiritual or political leader, is derived 
from the individual followers and believ- 
crs, since it is the believers’ judgme 
ders and institutions speak 
with a greater wisdom than their own 
is, obviously, 2 paradox, for only 
the wise can recognize wisdom. Thus, 


standing the Bible, as distinct from the 
interpretations of the Church, which orig- 
ly issued and author 
But Catholics seldom. SEXES that the au 
thority of the Church rests, likewà 
the opinion of its individual members 
that the Papacy and the councils of the 
Church are authoritative. The same 
true of the state, for, as a French states- 
man said, people get the government they 
deserve. 

Why does one come to the opinion ¢ 
the Bible, literally understood, is the 
truth, the whole truth and nothing but 
the truth? Usually because one's “elders 
and betters," or an impressively large 
group of one’s peers, have this opin- 
ion. But this is to go along with the 
Bandar-log, or monkey tribe, in Rudyard 
Kipling's Jungle Books, who periodically 
get together and shout, “We all say so, so 
it must be true!” Having been a gr 
father for a number of years, I 
particularly impressed with pa 
authority. 1 am of an age with my own 
formerly impressive grandfathers (on 
whom was a fervent fundamentalist 
literal believer in the Bible) and I r 
ize that my opinions are as fallible as 
theirs. 

But many people never grow up. They 
stay all their lives with a passionate need 
for external authority and guidance, pre- 
tending not to trust their own judgme 
Nevertheless, it is their own jud 
willy-nilly, that there exists some author 
own. The fervent 
fundamentalist—whether Protestant or 
is dosed 


on 


1, 


lem- 


reason and even communi 
of losing the security of childish depend- 
ence. He would suffer extreme emotion- 
al heebie jeebies if he didn't have the 
fecling that there was some external 
and infallible guide in which he could 
trust absolutely and without which his 
very identity would dissolve. 

This attitude is not faith. It is pure 
idolatry. The more deceptive idols are 
not images of wood and stone but are 
constructed of words and ideas—mental 
images of God. Faith is an openness and 
trusting attitude to truth and reality, 
whatever it may turn out to be. This is a 
ky and adventurous state of mind. Be- 
lief, in the religious sense, is the opposite 
of faith—because it is a fervent wishing 
or hope, 2 compulsive clinging to the 
idea that the universe is arranged and 
governed in such and such а w Belief 
g to a rock; faith is learning how 
i—and this whole universe swims 
in boundless space. 

Thus, in much of the 
world, the King James Bible is a rigid 
idol, all the more deceptive for being 
translated into the most melodious En 

sh. and for being an anthology of 
cient literature that con 
wisdom along with barbaric histories and 
the war songs of tribes on the rampage 
All this is taken as the literal Word 
and counsel of God, as it is by fundamen 
talist Baptists, Jesus freaks, Jehovah's 
Witnesses and comparable sects, which— 
by and large know nothing of the hi 
1y of the Bible, of how it 
put together. So we have with 
cial menace of a huge popu 
intellectually and morally irresponsible 
people. Take a ruler and measure the 
listings under “Churches” in the Yellow 
Pages of the phone directory. You will 
nd that the fundamentalists have by far 
the most space. And under what pressure 
do most hotels and motels place Gideon 
Bibles by the bedside—Bibles h clea 
ly fundamentalist introductory material, 
taking their name Gideon from one of the 
more ferocious military leaders of the 
ancient Israelites? 

As is well known, the eno: 


nglish-sp 


king 


an- 
s sublime 


power of fundamentalists 
makes legislators afraid to take laws 
nd crimes oll 


gainst victimless 
the books, and what corrupts the police 
them to be armed preachers 
ng ecclesiastical laws in a country 
where church and state are supposed to 
be separate—ignoring the basic Christian 
doctrine that no actions, or abstentions 
from actions, are of moral import unless 
undertaken voluntarily. Freedom is risky 
and includes the risk that anyone may go 
10 hell in his own way. 

Now, the King James not, 
as one might gather [rom listening to 


ble 


fundamentalists, descend with an angel 
heaven Ал. 1011, when it was 
st published, It an elegant, but 


often inaccurate, translation of Hebrew 


and Greck documents composed between 
900 в.с. and a.b. 120. There is no manu- 
script of the Old Testament, that is, of the 
Hebrew Scriptures, written in Hebre 
earlier than the Ninth Century s.c But 
we know that these documents were first 
put together and recognized as the Holy 
Scriptures by a convention of rabbis held 
at Jamnia (Yavne) in Palestine shortly 
before a.p. 100. On their say-so. Likewise, 
the composition of the Christian Bible, 
which documents to include and which 
to drop, was decided by a council of the 
Catholic Church held in Carthage in the 
latter part of the Fourth Century. Several 
books that had formerly been read in the 
churches, such as the Shepherd of Не 
mas and the marvelous Gospel of Saint 
Thomas, were then excluded. The point 
is that the books wanslated in the King 
James Bible were declared canonical and 
divinely inspired by the authority (A) of 
the Synod of Jamnia and (B) of the 
Catholic Church, meeting in Carthage 


more than 300 years after the time of 
Jesus. It is thus that fundamentalist Prot- 
estamts get the authority of their Bible 
from Jews who had rejected Jesus and 
from Catholics whom they abominate 


as the Scarlet Woman mentioned 
Revelation. 

The Bible, to repeat. is an anthology 
of Hebrew and late Greek literature, 
edited and put forth by a council of 
Catholic bishops who believed that they 
were acting under the direction of the 
Holy Spirit. Before th imc the le as 
we know it did not exist. There were the 
Hebrew Scriptures and their translation 
into Greck—the Septuagint, which wi 
made in Alexandria between 250 в.с: and 
100 п.с. There were also various codices, 
or Greek manuscripts, of various parts 
of the New Testament, such as the four 
Gospels. There were numerous other 
writings circulating among Christia 
including the Epistles of Saint Paul a 
Saint John, the Apocalypse (Revelation) 
and such documents (later excluded) as 
the Acts of John, the Didache, the Apos- 
tolic Constitutions and the various 
Чез of Clement, Ip, and Polycarp. 

In those days, and until the Protestant 
Reformation in the 16th Gentury, the 
Scriptures were not understood. excu- 
sively in a narrow literal sense. Fron 
Clement of Alexandria (Second Century) 
to Saint Thomas Aquinas (13th Century). 
the great theologians, or Fathers of the 
Church, recognized four ways of inter 
preting the Scriptures: the literal or his- 


torical, the moral, the allegorical and the 
spiritual—and they were overwhelmingly 
interested in the 
(Second Century) reg; 

ament as "puerile" 


wise preoccupied with finding hidden 
meanings in the Scriptures, for the con- 
cern of all these theologi to inter 
pret the Biblical texts in such a way us to 

(continued on page 136) 


7 
Z 
f 
tuo dolls re-create a ds c spawned 
was less.complex and Cr re ingenuous 
N Mas X 
e. 


INUPS, contrary to 

populer belief, have 

been hanging around since long before the 
first staple was removed from the navel of 
a Playmate of the Month. They came into 
their own during World War Two, when glossy 
photos of Betty Grable and Veronica Lake, of 
recent and revered memory, adorned foot- 
lockers and Flying Fortresses. But the golden 
age of cheesecake was the Thirties, when the 
pinup girl was still, for the most part, a fig- 
ment of artists’ imaginations. In magazine 
foldouts (notably Esquire’s), on calendars, 
on the covers of such racy periodicals as 
Spicy Stories and College Humor, the classic 
pinup was created by George Petty (whose 
“long-stemmed American beauties” frequently 
caressed a white telephone), Earl Moran, 
Fritz Willis, Gil Elvaren and Alberto Vargas. 
Vargas’ monthly contribution to our own 
pages keeps the tradition alive, but PLAvBOY's 
preference has always been —to paraphrase 
the old song—less for paper dollies than 
for real live girls. Acting on the theory that 
even such fantasies can become reality, As- 
sociate Art Director Kerig Pope and Staff 
Photographer Bill Arsenault swore that they, 
and their models, could bring those painted 
pinups of yesteryear alluringly to life in a 
gallery of photographs. We didn't believe 
them. We were—quite obviously— wrong. 


"WHAT A LINE-UP” 


5 
a 


"WAITING FOR 
A STEAMER^ 


"FIT 10 BE TARRED" 


д 


Though all the world recoiled in shock 
At tales of your skulduggery, 
You only did what you do best— 


Just good old-fashioned buggery. 


TU THIS 
YEAR'S FLESH- 
FLIEK QUEEN 


Raise the Ripple to our love! 
Joyous carols sing! 
Baby, our relationship’s 
Avery heavy thing. 
Nothing’s ever happened like the 
Vibes between us two, 
Grooving night and day together. 
Love till death, 
Guess who 


PLAYBOYS 


verse ДЇЇ WAN 


We'd like to buy some gilts for you, 
Some festive little sundries, 
But do we shop in “Gifts for Guys” 
Or stick to “Ladies’ Undies”? 
Perhaps the problem can be solved— 
Why choose things male or femme? 
We'll seek, instead, that perfect gift 
For the compleat SM. 


LOSE 60 POUNDS 
IN 60 MINUTES 


What far-out physiology! м 

You're Sex Star of the Year! f NS S 7, 1 
Despite your famed achievement, though, 3 é 
The news is bad, we fear— 

They've found another Wonder Girl 

(Get ready for this, dear), 

She's got a trick left nostril 

And a really freaky ear! 


CHRISTMAS 
Ad 


Why do critics smirch your name? 
Why can't they keep quiet? 
What could be unethical 
About your moose-milk diet? 
Let those nabobs snipe away, doc; 
Little does it matter 
How you trim the patients if your 
Wallet's getting fatter. 


PLAYBOY 


136 


MOS'T DANGEROUS BOOK 


make the Bible intellectually respectable 
and philosophically interesting. Concern 
over the historical truth of the Bible is 
relatively modern, whether in the form of 
fundamentalism or of scientific research. 

But when the Bible was translated and 
widely distributed as a result of the in- 
vention of printing, it fell into the hands 
of people who, like the Jesus freaks of 
today, were simply uneducated and who, 
as the depressed classes of Europe, even- 
tually swarmed over to America. This is, 
naturally, a heroic generalization. There 
were, and are, fundamentalists learned 
in languages and sciences (although the 
standard translation of the Bible into 
Chinese is said to be in fearful taste), 
just as there are professors of physics and 
anthropology who somehow manage to 
be pious Mormons, Some people have 
the peculiar ability to divide their minds 
into watertight compartments, being crit- 
ical and rational in matters of science 
but credulous as children when it comes 
to religion. 

Such superstition would have been rela- 
tively harmless if the religion had been 
something tolerant and pacific, 
‘Taoism or Buddhism. But the re 
the literally understood Bible is chau- 
vinistic and militant. It ison the march to 
conquer the world and to establish itself 
as the one and only true belief, Among 
its most popular hymns are such bat- 
Че songs as "Mine eyes have seen the 
glory” and Onward, Christian Soldiers. 
The God of the Hebrews, the Arabs and 
the C] ians is a mental idol fashioned 
in the image of the great monarchs of 
Egypt, Chaldea and Persia. It was possi- 
bly Ikhnaton (Amenhotep IV, 14th Cen- 
tury в.с.). Pharaoh of Egypt. who gave 
Moses the idea of monotheism (as sug- 
gested in Freud's Moses and Monothe- 
ism). Certainly the veneration of God as 
"King of kings and Lord of lords" 
borrows the official title of the Persian 
emperors. Thus, the political pattern of 
tyranny, beneficent or otherwise, of rule 
by violence, whether physical or moral, 
stands firmly behind the Biblical idea 
of Jehovah, 

When one considers the architecture 
and ritual of churches, whether Catholic 
or Protestant, it is obvious—until most 
recent times—that they are based on 
royal or judicial courts. A monarch who 
rules by force sits in the central court of 
his donjon with his back to the wall, 
flanked by guards, and those who come to 
petition him for justice or to offer tribute 
must kneel or prostrate themselyes—sim- 
ply because these are difficult positions 
from which to start a fight. Such mon- 
archs are, of course, frightened of their 
subjects and constantly on the anxious 
alert for rebellion. Is this an appropriate 
image for the inconceivable energy that 
underlies the universe? True, the altar- 


(continued from page 122) 


throne in Catholic churches is occupied 
by the image of God in the form of 
one crucified as a common thief, but he 
hangs there as our leader in subjection to 
the Almighty Father, King of the uni- 
verse, propitisting Him for those who 
have broken His not always reasonable 
laws. And what of the curious resem- 
blances between Protestant churches and 
courts of law? The minister and the 
judge wear the same black robe and 
“throw the book” at those assembled in 
pews and various kinds of boxes, and 
both ministers and judges have chairs of 
estate that are still, in effect, thrones. 

"The crucial question, then, is that if 
you picture the universe as a monarchy, 
how can you believe that a republic is the 
best form of government, and so be 2 
loyal citizen of the United States? It is 
thus that fundamentalists veer to the ex- 
treme right wing in politics, being of the 
personality type that demands strong ex- 
ternal and paternalistic authority. Their 
“rugged individualism” and their racism 
are founded on the conviction that they 
are the elect of God the Father, and their 
forebears took possession of America as 
the armies of Joshua took possession of 
Canaan, treating the Indians as Joshua 
and Gideon treated the Bedouin of 
Palestine. In the same spirit the Protes- 
tant British, Dutch and Germans took 
possession of Africa, India and Indonesia, 
and the rigid Catholics of Spain and 
Portugal colonized Latin America. Such 
territorial expansion may or may not be 
practical politics, but to do it in the 
name of Jesus of Nazareth is an outrage. 


The Bible is a dangerous book, though 
by no means an evil one. It depends, 
largely, on how you read it—with what 
prejudices and with what intellectual 
background. Regarded as sacred and au- 
thoritative, such a complex collection of 
histories, legends, allegories and images 
becomes a monstrous Rorschach blot in 
which you can picture almost anything 
you want to discover—just as one can 
see cities and mountains in the clouds 
or faces in the fire. Fundamentalists 
“prove” the truth of the Bible by trying 
to show how the words of the prophets 
have foretold events that have come to 
pass in relatively recent times. But any 
statistician knows that you can find cor- 
relations, if you want to, between almost 
any two sets of patterns or rhythms—be- 
tween the occurrence of sunspots and 
fluctuations of the stock market, between 
the lines and bumps on your hand and 
the course of your life or between the ar- 
chitecture of the Great Pyramid and the 
history of Europe. This is because of 
eidetic vision, or the brain's ability to 
project visions and forms of its own into 
any material whatsoever. But scholars of 
ancient history find the remarks of the 


prophets entirely relevant to events of 
their own time, in the ancient Near East. 
The Biblical prophets were not so much 
predictors as social commentators. 

1 am not in the position of those liber- 
al Christians who reject fundamentalism 
but must still insist that Jesus was the 
one and only incarnation of God, or at. 
least the most. perfect human being. No 
one is intellectually free who feels that 
he cannot and must not disagree with 
Jesus and is therefore forced into the 
dishonest practice of wangling the words 
of the Gospels to fit his own opinions. 
‘There is not a scrap of evidence that 
Jesus was familiar with any other reli- 
gious tradition than that of the Hebrew 
Scriptures or that he knew anything of 
the civilizations of Ine China or Peru. 
Under these circumstances, he was faced 
with the virtually impossible problem of 
expressing himself in the peculiar reli- 
gious language and imagery of his local 
culture. For it is obvious to any student 
of the psychology of rel 
he needed to express was the relatively 
common change of consciousness known 
as mystical experience—the vivid and 
overwhelming sensation that your own 
being is one with eternal and ultimate re- 
ality. But it was as hard for Jesus to say 
this as it still is for a native of the Ameri- 
can Bible Belt. It implies the blasphe- 
mous, subversive and lunatic claim to be 
identical with the all-knowing and all- 
ruling monarch of the world—its Phar- 
aoh or Gyrus. Jesus would have had no 
trouble in India, for this experience is the 
foundation of Hinduism, and the Hindus 
recognize many people in both ancient 
and modem times as embodiments of the 
divine, or sons of God—but not, of course, 
of the kind of God represented by Jeho- 
vah. Buddhists, likewise, teach that any- 
one can, and finally will, becomea Buddha 
(an Enlightened One), in the same way 
as the historic Gautama. 

If the Gospel of Saint John, in particu- 
lar, is to be believed, Jesus emphatically 
identified himself with the Godhead, 
considering such phrases as “I and the 
Father are one,” or "He who has seen me 
has seen the Father,” or “Before Abraham 
was, I am," or “I am the way, the truth 
and the life." But this was not an exclu- 
sive clarm for himself as the man Jesus, 
for at John 10:31, just after he has said 
"I and the Father are one," the crowd. 
picks up rocks to stone him to death. 
Hc protests: 


"Many good works have I shown 
you from my Father; for which of 
those works do you stone me?" The 
Jews answered him, saying, “We do 
Tot stone you for a good work, but 
for blasphemy, and because you, be- 
ing a man, make yourself God. 


And here it comes: 


Jesus answered them, “Is it not 
written in your law, ‘I said, you are 
(continued on page 278) 


a yule log of pyrotechnic christmas potables to add a flare to your holiday festes 


drink By EMANUEL GREENBERG some зоо years 


ago, the English poet Thomas IU advised his contempo- 
raries: “At Christmas play and make good cheer/ For Christmas 
comes but once a year.” Ol) Gy there were no fies on old 
Thomas T., and his advice still makes a lot of sense. The whole 
world seems to turn on at yuletide, Joy, il not supreme, is cer- 
tainly rampant, There aré folia and flings, revels and bust 
outs wherever you go—and dela nd isaWash in plum puddings, 
fruitcakes, well-browned ЫШ and Wassails. Which is fine 


After all, Christmas Паре drawn (rom 4000 years oi pagani 
and Christian celebrations of the winter Solstice, Bu atm: 
son, instead of hosting one more Tom and Jerry Bal ЧН 
n innovative fillip to your year-end wingdingeasdazzling 
chnic display of Haming drinks will cast mew ШИ ИНИН 
y hostmanship—and brighten the longest И ЩИ ИП 
the year. 

Now, the art of flambé may look mysterious when BE 
but the fact is that anyone can flame (continued OPA 


EE 


TYRANNY OF WEAKNESS 


text might contain some veiled insult— 
best cancel it and stick to perfectly safe 
ngs. like the 1812 Overture. 

Nixon, who has suffered through so 
many demeaning moments in his life, 
must be spared any further one, no mat- 
ter how small the issue. Much of the Wa- 
tergate team first gathered its resources to 
head off street demonstrations. That was 
Egil “Bud” Krogh's early assignment; the 
matter was too grave and personal to be 
trusted to D.C. police or the Justice 
Department. 

‘The White House was under almost 
perpetual siege. People came in on tours 
and poured blood there, or carried in- 
sulting signs out front. The professors 
came, too, or praised the students for 
coming. No wonder those inside felt the 
aggression was all upon the other side, 
the outside. It was typical of slick Chuck 
Colson to pooh-pooh the White House 
enemies list as a mere screening process 
for those to be invited to the White 
House. But there was some genetic con- 
nection, after all: Each person entering 
the White House was seen as a potential 
enemy—even the friendly academics who 
were bored by Mitchell. If you cannot 
trust the Johnny Mann Singers, whom 
can you trust? 

No one, really—and certainly not any. 
professor. Even Pat Moynihan, while 
working up his style of sycophantic flam- 
boyance for Nixon's delight, was not 
trusted by the keepers of the Presidential 
dignity. He not only talked too much but 
talked with too many people—even with 
the enemies. He was a new kind of secu- 

ty risk—a dignity risk in the starched 
and pompous White House. Anyone who 
laughs that much might well laugh. some- 
day, at the President. In some covert 
way—who knows?—he was probably al- 
ready laughing at him while pretending 
to laugh with him. 

Indeed, it was his very access to the 
President that made him dangerous. 
Since Nixon is an intellectual (though 
not given proper recognition as one), he 
tests his теше with a chosen few profes- 
sors—a Kissinger, a Moynihan, a Shultz. 
This is inevitable, perhaps—but not a 
happy sight for those protecting him. He 
must be protected even from himself. 
Purge and attempted purge would be the 
order of the day near Nixon. When a 
Wally Hickel aligns himself with stu- 
dents, he must go. Even Kissinger sees 
too many acquaintances from Harvard. 
“Pete” Peterson goes partying in George- 
town. Len Garment is not only assigned 
to placate blacks but seems to like their 
company. For that matter, Klein even 
likes some journalists, 

Mitchell, again, had been the first to 
hunt for infiluating "liberals" in the 
Nixon camp. Even during the 1968 cam- 
paign, he was alarmed by Evans and 
138 Novak reports that some young staffers 


PLAYBOY 


(continued from page 118) 


were not far enough right to suit the 
Nixon image. He hated to hear about a 
Bob Dole or a Bob Finch talking mushily 
when he was orchestrating barks and 
growls. After using Bob Mardian to sabo- 
tage Finch’s HEW on the busing issue, 
Mitchell—beginning his own slow de- 
cline—still served as a bumper between 
Finch and Nixon in the White House. 
Mitchell was also upset at Ripon Society 
types who gravitated toward the Moyni- 
han office, He once referred to Ripon's 
young members as "juvenile dclin- 
quents,” and the society was a particular 
target for Kevin Phillips, who disliked its 
establishment style. Most politicians try to. 
reach beyond their immediate constitu- 
ency; Mitchell kept expelling people from 
that small first circle of Republican in- 
tellectuals—whence his first-strike offen- 
siveness at the White House dinner. 
Others were learning the lesson of that 
dinner, along with the invited guests. If 
Nixon admired the boorish strength of 
Mitchell, a pre-emptive rudeness that an- 
ticipates insult, then Haldeman and 
Ehrlichman knew what path they must 
follow upward. And their righteousness 
had a solider base than Mitchell's mere 
selfsatisfaction. Haldeman, lean and as- 
cetic, with an insect's economy of feature 
and death’shead nose, was trimmed 
down to monomaniac devotion. Ehrlich- 
man the teetoraler was meant to deal 
with the Hill, to indulge his contempt 
for drunken Gongressmen—he just wid- 
ened the voracious smile, as his guillotine 
eyebrows were gleefully drawn up and 
dropped. These two could outoutgrowl 
Mitchell in distrustfulness, could b 


ed enough in his loyalty. Those closest to 
Nixon had to be shoved aside most encr- 
getically. When even Len Garment feil 
victim to this process, he was not sur- 

“Considering the way Nixon 
ed in, they [Haldeman and Ehr- 
lichman] were probably essential. With- 
out them, he might have fallen apart.” 
That is not disillusioned bitterness 
speaking—as Garment proved by going 
hack to serve when there was even great- 
cr danger to the Nixon stability. Those 
who admire Nixon most also feel a need 
to nurse and minister to him. Theodore 
White quotes “one of the three men clos- 
est to him” (at that time, Mitchell?) as 
saying in 1970: “They'd driven one Presi- 
dent from office, they'd broken John- 
son's will Were they going to break 
another President? They had him on the 
edge of nervous breakdown.” The pro- 
tectors’ strength grows from their charge's 
weakness, his demand for shelter, for 
quict and surcease from insult; from the 
fact that he has been wronged so often 
and felt it so deeply. What was simply а 
crude manner in Mitchell became a prin- 
cipled ruthlessness in Haldeman, an in- 
sensitivity toward the outside fed from 


acute sensitivity to Nixon's wounds and 
exposed nerves. Thus power grew by feel- 
ing powerless; aggression always looked 
like self-defense. Only terrified men in 
stitute a Terror. 

Haldeman was cruel out of an unques- 
tioning kindness toward his boss. But 
other White House aides, more complex 
than he, had to ask some questions. They 
needed not only the instinct for averting 
scorn but a theory of their grievances—a 
way to account for the regularity with 
which that scorn did strike. Moynihan 
elaborated, in his memoranda, a view that 
liberal do-gooders were angered at their 
slipping hold upon the proletariat. He ad. 
vised Nixon that he must not let himself 
be—as Lyndon Johnson was—"toppled 
by a mob”: “No matter that it was a mob 
of college professors, millionaires, flower 
children and Raddiffe girls. It was a mob 
that by 1968 had effectively physically sep- 
arated the Presidency from the people.” 

Patrick Buchanan thought the press 
was out to get revenge for the fading of 
Camelot. Both men talked of elitism and 
argued that the electorate (not so much 
the President) was the true victim of 
the intellectuals. Moynihan said the lib- 
erals meant to deprive the people of 
their President, and Buchanan agreed: 
“These men [TV commentators] are 
using that monopoly position [on the 
three networks] to persuade the nation 
to share their distrust of and hostility 
toward the elected Government.” Moyni- 
han thought liberalism, in its decline, 
had an almost Luciferian urge toward 
utter negation: “The leading cultural 
figures are going—or have gonc—into 
opposition. . It is their pleasure to 
cause trouble." Buchanan describes the 
same phenomenon, of men "taking an 
increasingly adversary stance toward the 
social and political values, mores and 
traditions of the majority of Americans.” 
"To be an adversary of American political 
tradition is almost the definition of a 
traitor—a definition Haldeman would 
make even more precise when describing 
Nixon's Congressional opponents. 

In attacking clitism for its scorn of the 
electorate, both men called their op- 
ponents unrepresentative. Who elected 
Walter Cronkite? Buchanan writes: “To 
whom do the gentlemen of the networks 
answer, other than some nameless execu- 
tive, whose principal concern is less wi 
the welfare of the nation than the Nicl- 
sen ratings and profit margins?” Here 
Buchanan skates on very thin ice. If Niel- 
sen ratings control the networks, then 
viewers do elect Cronkite. And a dis- 
interested effort at “the welfare of the 
nation,” carried on despite its unpopu- 
larity, sounds, by irony, elitist. 

Theodore White, trying to sort out the 
inconsistencies in Moynihan-Buchanan- 
ism, to save its essential point, argues 
that the self-proclaimed guardians of the 
nation's good, who do not have to answer 

(continued on page 160) 


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As New York governor, Fronklin D. 
Roosevelt went after corruption, 
crime and the U.S. Presidency. 


private purses of ordinary 
Americans nor in the state or 
Federal treasuries. and the 
sources of revenue were fast 
disappearing. The melancholy 
anthem of the age was sung all 
over the country: Brother, 
Can You Spare a Dime? 

With Government sceming- 
ly unable or unwilling to meet 
the worsening crisis, many saw 
a developing potential for rev- 
olution. On one level, there 
was a crescendo of demands 
for action and change—radi- 
al and violent or moderate 
and peaceful; it didn't matter 
much which, as long as there 
were signs that someone was 
doing something. On another 
level, there was a demand, a 


Raiding police lay waste to a New Orleans bockie joint operating in a private home 


Judge Samuel Seabury headed 
the commission that turned heat 
on New York's mobsters in 1931. 


necessity, for escape from the 
increasing wretchedness of life, 
if only for just a few hours 

The bankrupt Administra- 
tion of Herbert Hoover was 
swept out of office in the 1932 
election by Franklin Delano 
Roosevelt, and he brought to 
Washington and the nan 
infectious optimism, a frantic 
100 days and more of action, 
a parade of needed reforms 
that, if not ending the Depres- 
sion. at least offered the hope 
that it would be ended. 

Those who provided the 
country with its escapes and 
diversions had no less a stake 
in the survival of the system, 
though their contributions 
were of a different kind. By 


As corruptas he was colorful, New 
York City mayor Jimmy Walker 
finally exiled himself to Europe. 


Organized crime hit the jackpot 
by playing an the public's weok- 
ness for the one-armed bandit. 


1-2 


1937. The raid wos 


опе of many during a much-publicized but not altogether successful compoign against illegol gambling and 
other Mob-controlled vice that had taken firm root in Louisiana during the reign of “Kingfish” Huey P. Long. 


л 


к = "A 
With the help of his friends in 
the New York Mob, Huey P. Long 
introduced the slots to Lovisiono. 


coincidence. they were made 
possible in some measure by 
the Roosevelt Administra- 
tion's rural-clectrification pro 
grams, which brought the 
wonders of electricity to those 
who had never known it be 
fore. With the eleciric light 
came another wondrous in 
vention: the radio. Like televi 
sion two decades later, in the 
Thirties the radio became a 
necessity in even the poorest 
household. Every evening the 
family would gather around 
the little box with its lighted 
dial to forget reality and enter 
the world of Jack Benny, Fred 
Allen, Amos and Andy, Major 
Bowes, Fanny Brice as Baby 
Snooks, Cecil B. De Mille in. 
troducing the Lux Radio 
Theater, the whole distant 
world of drama and laughter 
and adventure. In the morn 
ings and afternoons, a house- 
could go about her 
drudgery without thinking. 
her mind on the endless en- 
tanglements of Young Doctor 
Malone, Our Gal Sunday, The 
Romance of Helen Trent, Ma 
Perkins, Pepper Young's Fami- 
ly and all the rest of the soap 
operas. The world outside 
might be black, but inside the 
box all things were possible. 
Amusement, change, total 
escape were even morc satisfy 
ing in the darkness of the new 
talking-movie palaces, where, 
for a dime or a quarter, one 


wife 


In Monhotton's Gorment District, 
both monagement end labor 
sought the services of gangsters, 
who proceeded to thoroughly in- 
filtrote and seize almost total con- 
trol of thot industry in the Thirties. 


ILLUSTRATION BY RON VILLANI AFTER JOHN KANE CIRCA 1930 


К»? 


ARSS 


PLAYBOY 


could enter a convincing dreamland. On 
Wednesday nights there was bingo and 
on Saturdays a visiting celebrity, or may- 
be only the theater manager, might draw 
a number from a fish bowl and the lucky 
ticket holder would have a new set of 
dishes. Then the lights would dim and 
everything would be forgotten except 
these flickering black-and-white images 
on the huge silvery screen. It was a safe 
but exciting world: where Little Caesar 
was only Edward G. Robinson firing 
blanks, where the Public Enemy was 
Jimmy Cagney and Scarface was Paul 
Muni in make-up, where Boris Karloff 
and Bela Lugosi could create delicious 
shudders as Frankenstein's Monster and 
Dracula, where Busby Berkeley could 
work glamorous miracles along 42nd 
Street or with the Gold Diggers of 1933 
and where the bulbous nose of W. C. 
Fields gleamed almost red in black and 
white. 

But the escape provided by radio and 
movies, though vital, was an escape into 
a realm that even the most gullible knew 
(despite the publicized talent hunts and 
the exodus of pretty girls and handsome 
young men from the small towns to Hol- 
lywood's dream factory) was only a short 
fight for an hour or two before the 
return to . There were, however, 
other avenues of escape—some not so un- 
real, for they held out the possibility of 
power and riches. These were the dreams 
purveyed by the American underworld. 

The survival of de American system 
was just as important to the criminals as 
to any other group. The underworld's 
roots were as deep in American society 
and tradition as the most honest pa- 
uiors, and many of its leaders, sensing 
this, became the most conservative of citi- 
zens. In later years, no single group was 
more patriotic or more virulently anti- 
Communist, more dedicated to the con- 
tinuance of the American Way of Life 
without alteration. Major  racketeers 
were casy marks for those who appealed 
to their love of country; their bank rolls 
were always open. (A dream of Meyer 
пашу а longtime conservative Repub- 
lican, and Tommy Lucchese, a conserva- 
tive Democrat, and a dream both 
realized, was to see their sons graduated 
from West Point and become commis- 
sioned officers.) 

For organized crime, the climate of the 
Depression was in some ways superior 
even to that of the Twenties. The racket- 
eers were the dispensers of dreams and 
escape—in the form of alcohol, gam- 
bling, money, drugs and sex—and, by the 
early Thirties, they had enormous wealth 
and influence. Under the leadership of 
Lucky Luciano, Lansky, Frank Costello 
and their peers, the organized criminals 
were openly courted by politicians seek- 
ing their support, their allegiance and 
their dollars. They were too powerful 
even to display concern over the growing 


142 reform movement that was demanding 


an end to politically protected crime. 

The time had come, it seemed to 
many, to do something about the corrup- 
tion that had flourished in New York, 
and in most of the nati ics, since 
the start of Prohibition. It had been one 
thing for city officials, judges and police 
1o flout the laws openly, take payofis and 
live high during an era of boom and 
prosperity. But it was another thing en- 
tirely for these same public servants to 
conduct business as usual during the De- 
pression, when joy had given way to des- 
peration. The most blatant forms of 
venality could no longer be endured, and 
even the most blasé and jaded began to 
demand at least some semblance of hon- 
esty in civic government. As the new 
decade began, the scandals of the admin- 
istration of New York's wastrel mayor, 
James J. Walker, and his Tammany 
lies and sponsors, such as Jimmy Hines, 
had reached the point where even the 
blind were forced to see. 

Early in 1931, Roosevelt, then New 
York's governor but already beginning to 
sound like a Presidential candidate, and 
the New York appellate court appointed 
a commission to take a searching look at 
what was happening in the nation's larg- 
est city. The commission was headed by 
Judge Samuel Seabury, who not only 
Sought to open some windows in the back 
rooms and let in light but no doubt rel- 
ished the opportunity 10 expose the cor- 
ruption of Tammany Hall, which had 
cost him a governor's racc шше Шап a 
decade earlier. All through 1931 and 
1932, hardly a day went by without some 
major disclosures from the commission. 
The Seabury hearings were an unending, 
serial of payoffs, bribery, venality, cor- 
ruption and crime, developing the al- 
most unbreakable link between Dutch 
Schultz, Luciano, Costello, Louis Lepke 
Buchalter and other underworld figures 
and the political world of Hines, Tam- 
many Hall, Mayor Walker and various 
police commissioners. 

‘Though the publicity was certainly un- 
desired, the gangsters assumed the heat 
would soon die down and it would арай 
be business as usual—especially coi 
ering the political events of the u 
The Democratic National Convention 
would open in Chicago at the end of 
June 1932. Its nominee for President 
would almost certainly be swept into the 
White House over the forlorn and dis- 
credited incumbent, Herbert Hoover. 
The convention's choice seemed to be 
between Governor Roosevelt and the 
standard-bearer from 1998, Al Smith. 
(In the big cities, по one gave a mo- 
ment's thought to the third contender, 
John Nance Gamer, Speaker of the 
House of Representatives; after all, he 
was from that land of cowboys and Indi- 
ans, Texas, which the cities didn't even 
think of as part of America.) Both were 
New Yorkers and, to appear as viable 
candidates to the convention, both had 


to control their home state's delegation. 
Smith, with his easy, garrulous manner. 
his Lower East Side accent, his loyal 
party record, was the traditional Tam 
many favorite. The patridan Roosevelt, 
with his Harvard education, upper-class 
accent, Hyde Park manner and personal 
wealth, was, to those in the city. only 
a charming and somewhat suspicious 
unknown. 

"Tammany's control of a large bloc of 
city delegates to the convention made it, 
then, the object of fervent dealing on the 
part of both Smith and Roosevelt back- 
ers: and since control of Tammany rested 
not just in Hines and his rival leader, 
Albert Marinelli, but also in their under- 
world allies, the political trading neces 
sarily had to include them. Early in 1932, 
the problem for Roosevelt seemed to be 
the pressure generated by the Seabury 
vestigation. As long as Tammany and its 
underworld allies were under fire, Roosc- 
velt could not count on their support. 

Roosevelt denounced civic crime, graft 
and corruption in ringing terms, lauded 
Seabury and his fellow commissioners for 
their work and then, mildly, said that he 
did not think a strong enough case had 
been made against Walker or anyone else 
10 warrant legal or executive action. 

The statement, and Roosevelt's refusal 
to authorize any action, did just what it 
was intended to do. Hines promptly an 
nounced that he was backing Roosevelt 
for the Presidency and would lead a large 
delegation w Chicago in ue governor's 
behalf. But Tammany's underworld asso- 
ciates were not yet ready to make a total 
commitment. They hedged their bets. 
Marinelli prodaimed his allegiance to Al 
Smith and his intention to lead a Smith 
bloc to Chicago. 

Hines and Marinelli were taking or- 
ders, and those who were giving them 
also attended the convention. At the 
Drake Hotel, Luciano took a large suite 
for himself and Marinelli. Down the 
hall, Costello took an equally lavish suite 
for himself and Hines. And in between, 
Lansky had his own suite, where the un- 
derworld's beneficence was dispensed to 
all willing delegates and where Lansky 
s prepared to mediate, to enteri 
and to explore new worlds out in the 
hinterlands. 

In that late-June week there was no 
pretense of observing the doomed 18th 
Amendment, of drinking secretly. Liquor 
was for sale openly to any delegate who 
wanted it. There were well-stocked bars 
doling out free booze to all comers in 
Lansky's, Costello's and Luciano's suites, 
night and day. It was during an extended 
drinking bout in Lansky's suite that a 
florid politician from Louisiana named 
Huey Long, “the Kingfish,” proposed 
that Lansky and his friends take gam. 
bling and slot machines to New Orleans 
and the other parishes, and so provide 
amusement for the natives and riches for 

(continued on page 152) 


the busy miss benton stars 
in a triumphant return engagement 


а 1000-candle-power flash that starts 

in the clear hazel eyes, spreads over 
the ingenue's face and, finally, illurni- 
nating a wide circle, encompasses every- 
one around her. She's a fascinating 
enigma, this threetime PLAYBOY cover 
girl and subject of a March 1970 pictori- 
al She's been variously labeled Barbi 
Doll, child princess, Rebecca of Sunny- 
brook Farm, a miniskirted Dorothy pre- 
siding over a Southern California version 
of Oz, a tomboy, an incurable romantic, 
a windup Shirley Temple, a teenage 
cheerleader, the girl on Hugh Hefner's 
arm. And, on the surface, there's some 
truth in all of that. But Barbi Benton is 
also intelligent (a straight-A student in 
high school who, before she dropped out 
of college in favor of show business, was 
doing quite respectably as a premed 
zoology major at UCLA), competitive 
(one of the country's better women back- 
gammon players) a self-supporting ca- 
reer woman (with film, television and 
night-club credits), someone whose untir- 
ing curiosity leads her to sign up for— 
and master—courses in everything from 
modern dance to glass cutting. She's 
guileless, candid, refreshingly innocent— 
but the possessor of an impish sense of 
humor, alternatively turned. inward, as 
if she stands aside and sees the wryness of 
a particular situation in which she finds 
herself, or outward, when with a giggle 
she punctures some bit of pomposity. 
Barbi Benton has a whole repertoire of 
laughs. "If anybody else laughed that 
much, you'd get nervous," Tom Burke 
wrote of her in the September issue of 
Cosmopolitan. “With Barbi, you look 
forward to it.” Its true. There's the 
carefree laugh, her head thrown back; 
the intimate, “just-between-us-friends” 
laugh; the quiet laugh. almost a 
“Hmmm-hmmm-hmmm"'; and the wicked 
laugh, deep down in the throat. The over- 
all impact of Barbi Benton is, well, some. 
thing else. 

Even Hefner finds it hard to describe. 
Talking im the context of her acing 
style—most recently on view in the ABC- 
TV Playboy Productions Movie of the 
Week The Third Girl from the Left, tele- 
сам this fall—he observes: ilm and 
TV acting is a special kind of thing, a lot 
of which is not learned, and she has that 
special quality. whatever it is—some- 
thing unique, a charisma—that comes 
across even in a cameo role.” He smiles, 
puffs on his pipe and heads out of the 
living room of the Playboy Mansion 


E THE SMILE that gets to you first— 


“These pictures were all taken at the 
Playboy Mansion West,” says Barbi. 
“That's Macbeth, the macaw, on 

my shoulder. There are so many 
exotic animals roaming around, 

the place seems like a Shangri-La. 
The lion, of course, is marble." 


West, his five-and-a-halfacre estate in the 
Holmby Hills district overlooking Los 
Angeles, bent on pursuing a backgammon 
game with friends in the den. 

After he leaves, Barbi expounds on 
what she thinks her appeal is—at least to 
Hefner, “You can see it in the pictures he 
chooses. He doesn't like to see me look 
like a New York model; when he sees a 
photo of me that looks very sophisticat 
ed, and older, and Poguelike, he doc 
like it, because it isn't me.” 

Isn't it? 

Its a side of me; if I can look that 
way in a picture, I can certainly act that 
way. But irs not a side that he likes to 
see. One of the things he likes least 

women is sophistication, and thats 
why he digs me, because I'm not terribly 
sophisticated." Pause, broken by an 
outrageously mugged simple-girl face, 
then the mock-devilish laugh. “7 know 
what's cool 

The episode demonstrates why Hefner 
thinks she'd be a natural comedienne. “1 
love comedy, but I'd rather be a serious 
actress. I feel more comfortable doing 
crying scenes," she says. Nonetheless, it 
was her playfulness that won her one of 
the most popular of several television 
commercials she's done, the Wash & 
Comb minidrama of a girl who uses 
lions of competitive hair-care toiletries 
before turning to the sponsor's. “At one 
point, I crack an egg on my head and it 
drips all over the place and 1 just laugh, 
even though I’m a mess. Everybody else 
who read for the job was serious; I took 
it to be very silly, ad-libbing nutty prod- 
ucts like rutabaga shampoo. 1 think that's 
why I got the job. 

Commercials—plus her appearances as 
a regular on Hee Haw, the syndicated 
series that has parlayed a combination of 
Laugh.m visuals. country music and 
corn pone into a popular package t 
aired on 216 stations weekly—provide 
the income that makes Barbi financially 
independent. She's now in her third sea 
son on Hee Haw. “It pays beautifully, 
she reports. "And a day's work on a good 
commercial can make you ten thousand a 
year. Of course, you make about ten com- 
mercials before you get one that. really 
moves." Among her most successful: one 
for Certs, another—as a mermaid—for 
Groom & Clean. About the mermaid 
role, she recalls, "It was really warm in- 

le that fishtail. The outfit wasn't un- 
like a Bunny Costume—tight-waisted, very 
flattering, and it looked great on. But 
wouldn't (text continued on page 302) 


She's “little-girl sexy," said a col- 
umnist when she first drew public 
attention on the Playboy After Dark 
TV series in 1968-1969. It's an 
image Barbi Benton still retains, 
though her career and her life style 
have gone through major changes. 


A 
di Алу 
N; 


Ty; 


A ^ * 
те peopl 
AOS = 


CEPHEUS? PERSEUS? Orion? For centuries, mankind has been toad y- 

ing up to the ancient Greeks by plugging 1n those half-baked 

fairy tales to make them fit the patterns of the night sky. To 

which we say, Bulfinch! Let's face it; today the Avon Lady is 

more meaningful as a heavenly image than some winged virgin 

in a long nightie—or anything else those loony Ionians claimed 

to see after a long day of sipping juniper juice under the hot E ] 

Aegean sun. We Шс ойт Eum E mment of those announcing a chic new set of 
stellar configurations. Incidentally, navigational aids remain  constellations Jor a tired old galaxy 
unchanged: When you are lost at night and wish to find "true 

north," you merely measure the distance between the Little hum or 


Blender and the Riding Mower, divide by two, take its square 
root—and then pray like hell that the search party ison its way. ВЕ ТЕВВҮТ CATEHNPALE 
j 


sd PARIS » 


1 
je 
$ 


ILLUSTRATION BY CHAS. В. SLACKMAN 


PLAYBOY 


HAPPY DAYS AND HARD TIMES 


the Kingfish. 1t would take time to make 
all the arrangements, but then millions 
would be extracted from Louisiana. 

And in Luciano’s suite. it was decided 
that Smith had no chance and that Tam- 
many and the underworld would throw 
their support to Roosevelt, After all, they 
were confident the governor was, as Wal- 
ter Lippmann had written, "an amiable 
man with many philanthropic impulses, 
but he is not the dangerous enemy of 
anything. He is too eager to please. . . . 
Franklin D. Roosevelt is no crusader.” 
With Roosevelt as the candidate and with 
Roosevelt in the White House, it seemed 
certain, they would have nothing to 
worry about. 

But with the nomination in his pocket, 
the New York governor proved less com- 
pliant than expected. Ever since he had 
denounced corruption, he had been un- 
der steady public pressure from Seabury 
and from New York City congressman 
Fiorello H. LaGuardia to take action. 
Now he did just that. Tammany's record 
and reputation were liabilities in the 
campaign and Roosevelt proceeded to 
dump the machine. Echoing La Guardia's 
constant refrain, he thundered that pub- 
lic office was indeed a public trust, the 
highest of public trusts. Those holding 
"s wife, must be above 
suspicion. If suspicions were aroused, the 
officeholders must allay them. They must 
answer all questions put to them by re- 
sponsible investigators or get out of of- 
fice. If there were questions about the 
sources of Walker’s money, then let 
Walker answer those questions. Seabury 
could ask away and the answers had 
better be satisfactory. 

Judge Seabury promptly haled a pa- 
rade of Democratic city politicians and 
officeholders before the commission and 
grilled them relentlessly about their un- 
derworld connections, about caches of 
money that were suddenly turning up. 
Walker, for one, was less than co- 
operative; his manner suddenly became 
subdued and evasive, and Roosevelt an- 
nounced his intention to throw him out 
of office. Before he could, Walker sent 
him a telegram: "I HEREBY RESIGN AS 
MAYOR OF THE CITY OF NEW YORK. . . - 
JAMES J. WALKER.” And before anyone 
quite knew what had happened, he was 
on a boat for Europe with his showgirl 
mistress. (When he returned years later, 
the scandals were just old memories and 
he was greeted with nostalgia by New 
Yorkers who fondly remembered “the 
good old days.) 

But the flight of Walker and the rev- 
elations about his aides had little im- 
mediate effect on the masters of the 
underworld. While the rest of the nation 
was suffering, the underworld was in the 
midst of one of its great booms. It was ex- 
panding wildly in every direction, seem- 


152 ingly without check, though some of the 


(continued from page H2) 


directions had long been charted. 

By the late Twenties, sagacious men 
like Arnold Rothstein and Johnny Tor- 
rio had been predicting the eventual de- 
mise of Prohibition, especially if the 
national economy were to suffer a sharp 
downward turn. At the Adantic City 
meeting in 1929 and especially at the 
1931 Italian-dominated session in Chica- 
go, the leaders had begun to consider the 
increasing likelihood of legal liquor and 
its effect on their empires. As the Depres- 
sion worsened, the public’s demand for a 
legal glass of beer or shot of booze be- 
came a deafening roar that could not be 
ignored. In the euphoria of the Roose- 
velt ascendancy, the new Democratic 
Congress in March 1933 legalized the 
manufacture and sale of light beer and 
es. Less than nine months later, Pro- 
jon was dead at the age of 14 On 
December 5, Utah became the 36th state 
y the 21st Amendment to the Con- 
Stitution, repealing the discredited 18th. 

When that day came, those who had 
made their fortunes in bootlegging or in 
Canadian booze—great amounts of which 
had made its way to the U.S. during 
Prohibition—were ready to move in on 
the newly legitimized U.S. industry. 
Going legit was, of course, an obvious 
move. Samuel Bronfman became one of 
Canada's richest and most respected men 
as owner of Seagram, and Lewis Rosen- 
stiel, who numbered among his close 
friends both Lansky and John Edgar 
Hoover—he would eventually create and 
endow the J. Edgar Hoover Foundation— 
became one of the United States’ most 
renowned philanthropists and industrial- 
ists as head of Schenley. (Rosenstiel and 
Schenley, from which he retired in 1968, 
have consistently denied his underworld 
background.) But if there were some who 
with Repeal tried to escape their unsa- 
vory Prohibition backgrounds, there were 
others who played both roles. Costello and 
his longtime partner in gambling, Phil 
Kastel, set up Alliance Distributors, which 
became the exclusive United States agent 
for Scodand's Whiteley Company, pro- 
ducer of King’s Ransom and House of 
Lords Scotch; and by the mid-Thirties, 
Costello and Kastel bought a control! 
interest in J. G. Turney and Son, Lt 
the British holding company for White- 
ley. Torrio took control of Prendergast 
and Davies Company, Ltd. another 
major Scotch importer and wholesaler, 
and among those fronting for him in that 
company was Herbert Heller, Rosen- 
stiel's brother-in-law. Lansky, Luciano, 
Bugsy Siegel, Joe Adonis, Costello and 
their friends all had shares in Capitol 
Wine and Spirits, a major importer and 
distributor of French wines, Scotch, Ca- 
n and domestic whiskies. Schultz 
and just about everyone else got into the 
legal beer-brewing business. After 1933, 
there was hardly a major bootlegger who 


didn’t have a piece of one legal distillery 
or another, and through the years liquor 
has remained a mainstay of the Mob. 

But bootleg booze. despite Repeal. 
stayed a lucrative business. During the 
campaign to legalize drinking, some 
bright young men in the new Roosevelt 
what they consid. 
ered a brilliant idea. Prohibition had 
dearly demonstrated that there was no 
way of stopping drinkers from drinking. 
The underworld had cashed in on that 
for billions of dollars. Now that liquor 
was going to bc legal again, why shouldn't 
the financially hard-pressed Federal and 
state governments cash in on this with 
high excise taxes? 

Those who conceived this plan thought 
they had discovered a new Golconda that 
would pour billions into public treasuries 
(as, indeed, would eventually be. the 
case). But excise taxes that would raise 
the price of booze as much as 50 percent 
meant large profits in the illegal manu- 
facture of untaxed liquor. All over the 
country, the Prohibition bootleggers be- 
came Repeal bootleggers, setting up huge 
dandestine stills and bottling plants. 
Perhaps the biggest and most famous 
was Molaska. 

Just ten days before Utah ratified the 
21st Amendment, the little company 
called Molaska Corporation was regis- 
tered in Ohio. Molaska's president was 
one John Drew. His real name was 
Jacob Stein and he was a disbarred New 
York auormey who had been a close 
friend a decade before of Gaston B. 
Means, one of the prime movers in the 
Ohio gang brought to Washington by 
President Warren C. Harding. Working 
with Means back in 1922, Stein had got- 
ten the FBI director, William J. Burns, 
to release Government bonded whiskey 
into his bootleg pipeline, through payoffs 
to Burns, Attorney General Harry M. 
Daugherty and the Republican Campaign 
Committee. Now Stein, or Drew, as he 
was calling himself, had re-emerged as 
president-in-name of Molaska. But he 
was only a front, as were the other pub- 
licly identified officers, including one 
Moses Citron of New Jersey, the assistant 
treasurer. The real owners of Molaska 
were the underworld powers: Lansky, 
who was Citron's son-in-law; Moe Dalitz, 
Sam Tucker, Chuck and Al Polizzi of 
Cleveland; Pete Licavoli of Detroit; Ado- 
nis; Longy Zwillman and others. 

According to its incorporation papers, 
Molaska had been set up for the ostensi- 
ble purpose of manufacturing dehydrat- 
ed molasses (hence its name) as a sugar 
Its source of molasses was 
itless. During Prohibition, as 
he scoured the Caribbean in search of 
bootleg booze, Lansky had made friends 
with just about every corrupt politician 
in the area, He had become particularly 
close to Fulgencio Batista, and when Ba- 
tista emerged as Cuba's strong тап, 

(continued on page 244) 


IS THE 
SUPREME 
COURT 
SOFT ON 
PORNOGRAPHY? 


WE DARE Nor—and certainly wouldn't care to—use all 
the language in the Supreme Court's most recent 
decisions on obscenity, but this much is clear: 


* That community standards will determine 
whether any work, taken as a whole, appeals to 
P***x***t interests. 

* That the depiction of se**al acts must have seri- 
ous literary, artistic, political or scientific value. 
* That descriptions of ultimate se**al acts, nor- 
mal or per****ed, simulated or suburban; or 
таѕіжжжжжжоп; or excr***ry functions; or lewd 
exhibition of ржпіїж]ж must not be presented in a 
patently offensive way. 


So far so good. But... 


m а ma eR 


WHAT ABOUT H-T D*GS? 


UKE MANY well-intentioned Americans, you may feel thot the recent Supreme Court deci- 
sions on obscenity were a crackdown on hord-core pornography. But we here а! PLAYBOY, 
where chostity has long been o primary concern, oren't so eosily misled. I's obvious thot 
the decisions are merely a more insidious way of encouraging other, new forms of filth 
to flourish. Nine monkeys with enough gavels could have come up with the same decisions. 
Surprised? Perhops yov shouldn't be. What else would you expect from nine old men who 
do odd things behind closed doors and dress up in floor-length gowns to sotisfy their 
craven desires? The time has clearly come to check the power of our lust-crazed judiciary 
and alert the American public to the holocaust of harky-ponky yet to come. 


«came the exclusive United States ages. 
^ for Scotland's Whiteley Company, pro- y, 
‚ent ducer of Kings Ransom and House of 
¿N AS Lords Scotch; and by the mid-Thirties, were 
NEW YORK. . . . Costello and Kastel bought a controlling who was Citron 
d before anyone interest in J. G. Turncy and Son, Ltd, Sam ‘Tucker, C 
tappened, he wes the British holding company for White- Cleveland; Pete 
“ith his showgirl ley. Torrio took control of Prendergast піз; Longy Zw” 
later, and Davies Company, Ltd, another Ar 
and major Scotch importer and wholesaler, Mr’ 
~ and among those fronting for him in that > 


Clearly, the Court needs help. Obscenity lurks everywhere. As responsible ond right- 
thinking citizens, we've devised practical solutions to stem the tide, beginning with . . . 


- . . our precious national heritage. The Capitol’s pert, melon-firm dome has long con- 
cerned us, so we've done the only decent thing: awarded a contract to Maidenform. 


Sodly, no laws con prevent Old Faithful's regular lurid display, but we have at Washington Monument's frank appear- 
least had it fitted with a chic lambskin tarpaulin, with a beautiful thin reservoir tip. ance is a disgrace—so we've fixed that. 


155 


156 


= бр. < 
“= 


The sight of our boys jerking up Old 
Glory at lwo Jimo has sent spasms of 
concupiscence, not patriotism, through 
otherwise decent people. Changes 

are clearly needed in this criticol orea. 


While we don’t object to rockets as such, we could do without 
NASA's prurient launches. There is o cleoner poth into spoce. 


Decent Americans 
would not believe 
the shameful places 
Coke bottles hove 
been deposited, then 
quickly returned. 


Certainly, we at rtavsovintend to practice whal we 
preach. Our salacious Times Square Playmate (top) will be 
corrected to comply with local guidelines. In the second 
Gatefold, skilled pLavsoy artisans have used sophisticated 
techniques to erase objectionable areas for rtvsov's 
Cleveland edition. For the third Playmate, well-to-do 
physicians have surgically removed ell erogenous zones 

to meet Orange County's enlightened obscenity require- 
ments. Finally, celibote blacksmiths help us meet 
local standards in God's Wrath, Georgia. 


Е 
Е 


To: 


lewd, provocative sky 
scrapers, of course, are 
epidemic. The damage 
they've already done is 
irreversible, but a few 
sensible changes in the 
building codes can re- 
verse the thrust of today's 
naughty architecture. 


The arts have been flooded too long 

with the disgusting symbolism of throbbing 
trains plunging headlong into moist, quivering 
tunnels. We have one answer, but, admittedly, 
we haven't worked out all the bugs. 


157 


158 


X EA anas > 
So-called cantemporary art is actually absceni 
the mast insidiaus sort: No matter what they 


say, filth, even in the abstract, is still filth. 


(Opposite) The over-all problem 
remoins, however, ond drastic 
measures are obviously required 
ta permanently sofeguord cur 
beloved wives, children and 
livestock. Our solution may not 
wipe aut pornography 
campletely, but there prabably 
wan't be any local standards for 
o while, anyway. 


Fixtures in public washrooms con cause even 
normal males to experience temporary insonity 
‘and expose their most private parts. Shutting dawn 
these dens of exhibitionism has become a full-time 
job. Traditional grafiti will not be tolerated. Nuts and bolts ore 

beyond redemption. 


And does our 
Christian irode- 
mark represent 

the sort of father- 
son relationship we 
care to encourage? 
Alsa, we have 

long felt that 
something should be 
done about the 
shocking state 

of Florida. 


PLAYBOY 


160 


TYRANNY OF WEAKNESS 


to popular mood, are family-owned news- 
papers such as The Washington Post and 
The New York Times. (CBS presents 2 
problem to this theory, which White 
fudges in the few places where he cannot 
manage to forget it) Mrs. Graham, in 
this theory, runs her wringer to please 
herself, not the public; and this private 
kind of rich kid's operation may catch up 
various parts of her person, White gives 
us, in politer terms, the theory adum- 
brated by Mitchell's crack. 

And it is nonsense. The Times and 
Post are liberal not because they can af- 
ford to ignore their constituency but be- 
cause their constituency is liberal. It is 
made up of the academic world and of 
those awed or influenced by that world. 
This is a self-certifying and self-perpet- 
uating elite—a point so obvious that it is 
tautological. Buchanan sputiers against 
“an arrogant and unelected elite"—as if 
an elite would be OK if it were Populist 
controlled (ie. nonelite). A nobility is 
all right, as long as the commoners create 
it. But elites are self-certifying. It would 
make no sense for the uncredentialed 
to grant credentials. A profesor of 
mathematics is judged by his peers, not 
by plebiscite. Even the Administration 
admits this in its calmer moments. Try to 
get a Government grant for research by 
tal i in the street, The mili- 
tary is a self-judging elite that Nixon's 
men think admirable. (When was the last 
time enlistees voted for a general?) The 
business elite is almost as acceptable. 
(His assembly line does not vote Mr. 
Ford into office.) So it is not elitism in 

self that Nixonians deplore. Any elite 


this Administration—is not only praise 
its degree of selfcertilying professional- 
ism is a point of honor. The chosen 
heroes of this Government are, 
the elite test pilots and 
meet the rigorous requirements to be 
astronauts. 

No, what bothers Nixonians like White 
is any elite that dares oppose election re- 
turns—not simply by having different 
ternal procedures from the plebiscite 
(the Army has those) but by questioning 
the vote's outcome, challenging widely 
accepted views, claiming an expertise 
over matters moral and philosophical as 
well as technical. Space engineers know 
how to get to the moon; and the military 
even used to know how to win wars. But 
whether we ought to go to the moon or 
enter a war—those large moral questions 
the democracy alone must judge, not al- 
lowing for privileged judgment by any 
minority. (Billy Graham, Nixon's only 
moral "expert" hastens to tell you he 
knows nothing special about distant 
places like Vietnam or Cambodia; his writ 
extends only to local familiar places, like 
heaven and hell) 

What is fascinating is that the suppos- 


(continued from page 138) 


edly conservative Nixon. Government is 
ignoring history, our American past, and 
arguments that were recognized as con- 
servative only a short time ago. Under 
Democratic administrations—under the 
alphabetic thralldoms of F.D.R., H.S.T., 
ЈК. L.B.J—conseryatives regularly 
praised elites, thought they rescued 
people from popular fads. The educated 
class has always had an impact, for good 
or ill, felt to be necessary by most civi- 
lized nations. Whether the “creative 
minority" was actually creative or de- 
structive, it did try out ideas that the 
more sluggish majority came in time to 
accept or reject. In the 18th Century, the 
buzz of an intellectual capital like Lon- 
don or Paris or Philadelphia brought 
about most changes despite resistance 
from the larger bodies connected to these 
heads. Even so democratic an ideolog as 
Jefferson thought this was as it should be 
and said an elite was needed in America. 
he Senate was at first conceived as an 
elite body of "lords" to balance the more 
popular "commons" of the House. In 
other words, the clite Jefferson had in 
mind was desirable precisely as it op- 
posed more popular pressures, as a leay- 
ening and correcting force. What 
Buchanan calls its vice, Jefferson consid- 
ered its main virtue. It has been impossi- 
ble to maintain this ideal within the 
electoral machinery itself (though up 
until yesterday conservatives defended its 
remains in the poll tax, the seniority sys- 
tem, the filibuster, the Electoral Col- 
lege). Yet the educated will always have 
more time to spend on affairs touching 
government; they will reach positions of 
greater influence, employ skills needed 
by the nation. Haldeman tried to deny 
this kind of dependence, asking that 
MIT grants be canceled. A government 
that tries this is committing suicide, no 
matter what returns say at election time. 
Most people do no more thinking about 
government than to show up (if at all) 
every four years at the polls. In between 
these elections, there are all kinds of 
tasks that must be performed—rulers 
must rule, as well as get elected. It has 
been the tendency of Teddy Whitism to 
reduce government to elections; and 
Nixon, with his distaste for domestic af- 
fairs, and his private way of running 
the world with the help of Kissinger, 
hoped the rest of the country could be 
ignored between his periodic wooing of 
the masses. He was the real radical. He 
tried to deny the need foran intelligentsia. 

In the time of his Kulturkampf, Vice- 
President Agnew liked to assert that pro- 
testing students were not typical of the 
young. He was right in terms of sheer 
number. They did not represent the 
apolitical, the apathetic, the grade grinds 
and jocks and minimal performers. But 
if you went onto any campus in the late 
Sixties, you invariably found that the 


head of the student government, the edi 
tor of the school newspaper, the class 
orator were critics of the war. Those who 
would in time become influential, the 
articulators, the politically involved, were 
out of sympathy with the Nixon Admin- 
istration. That Administration likes to 
praise “achievers” in one of its moods 
the one that glorifies the work ethic and 
success. Yet it had to appeal to the mass 
of inert and nonassertive types to claim 
support among the young. 

1 realize, of course, that the educated 
are sometimes wrong, and always pomp- 
ous; a dangerous class even when it is not 
an insufferable one. I realize that being 
an intellectual is not at all the same as 
being intelligent—that “the best and the 
brightest" can fail spectacularly. 
y society that wants to be i 
has to have an intelligen 
oppose it. The Nixonian conservatives, 
recklessly innovating, tried not only to 
ignore this factor but to destroy it. "They 
took offense, not because the elite pre 
vailed (how many votes did McGovern 
get, after all?) but because it dared tar- 
nish the electoral victory, robbing it of an 
intellectual sheen that was given so easily 
to the Kennedy victory over Nixon in 
1960. It is not enough, anymore, to 
diminish the establishments influence 
or power: the very existence of “effete 
snobs” who can mock the people’s choice 
is an affront to right order. Such people, 
in the words of Nixon's first press confer- 
ence on Watergate, "didn't accept the 
mandate of 1972.” The Nixon men felt 
an angry summons, therefore, to go 
search and-destroy missions whenever thi 
elite looked vulnerable. The intellectu- 
als glorification of Ellsberg gave them 
license to break in on (or beat up) this 
enemy of the democracy. When Mitchell 
and Kleindienst ignored the law during 
illegal arrests on May Day, they made no. 
bones of the fact th: the people were on 
their side and that was the higher law 
and order of Law and Order. 

The fury of this assault on the elite is 
perfectly symbolized by its concentration 
on the press. The academy is protected 
by the taboo of academic freedom. Ex- 
perts safe behind doctorates are not as 
easy a target as the working journalist. 
The press is especially vulnerable be- 
cause it has a double constituency. It is 
meant to inform the masses; but much of 
what it must report on, from develop- 
ments in science 10 economic trends, 
involves talking knowledgeably with 
experts. Besides, the writing skill and 
broad curiosity increasingly demanded of 
those who rise in journalism means that 
they have closer and closer ties with the 
academic and literary worlds. Е 
more, beyond the wireservi 
reporting level, those who wi 
work a thorough and critical reading 
themselves part of an elite. Thus, White's 
book describes a landslide Nixon victory, 

(continued on page 277) 


he was told that a house by the 
sea would keep him young — but 
that wasn't what he needed 


By V. S. PRITCHETT 


THE SPREE 


нє oto MAN—but when does old age begin?—the old 

man turned over in bed and, putting out his hand to rest 

on the crest of his wife's beautiful 
comforting bottom, hit the wall with his 
up. More than once during the two years since she had died 
he had done this and knew that if old age vanished in the 
morning, it came on at night, filling the bedroom with people 
until, switching on the light, he saw it staring at him; then 
it stalked off and left him locking at the face of the clock. 
‘Three more hours before breakfast; the hunger of loss yawned 


under his ribs. Trying to make out the figures on the clock, 
he dropped off to sleep again and was walking up Regent 
Street seeing, on the other side of it, a very high-bred white 
dog, long in the legs and distinguished in its step, hurrying 
up to Oxford Circus, pausing at each street corner in doubt, 
looking up at each person as he passed and whimpering 
politely to him, “Me? Me? Me?" and going on when he did not 
answer. A valuable dog like that, lost! Someone will pick it 
up, lead it off, sell it to the hospital and doctors will cut 
it up! The old man woke up with 


ILLUSTRATION. BY ROY CARRUTHERS 


(continued on page 282) 161 


FACTORY 
TESTED 


don't tell christine 
maddox that modeling 
isn’t easy; she used to 
work on an assembly line 


Fr O 75 


IT'S NO SECRET that California harbors а 
wide spectrum of realities—and no two 
could be more different than those of 
Long Beach. the Los Angeles suburb 
where Christine Maddox now lives, and 
of Tracy, a little town about 20 minutes’ 
drive from Stockton where she was born 
24 years ago. According to Christine it 
has “a high school, one theater and one 
bowling alley.” It also has a number of 
factories. Her father works in one of 
them; he’s a watchman for a paper com- 
pany. Christine herself worked for a 
while in a factory, checking paint jobs on 


adding machines and TV sets; she also 
did some knob attaching and hot stamp- 
ing (“putting little silver things on top of 
little plastic things"). It wasn't cxactly her 
life's calling. So, in spite of the fact that 
she loves Northern California (“You're 
so close to the lakes and mountains, not 
to mention the snow in winter”), she 
made her way south te Los Angeles. She 
considers the city overpopulared, and it 


With the holidoy seoson approaching, Chris- 
tine d i jing in Son Pedro for. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


wasa little “spooky” at first: “Back home, 
everybody knew everybody else. But here, 
I'd smile at people and they wouldn't 
smile back. Eventually, I got used to it. 
Christine may have been aided in making 
that adjusument by the fact that she comes 
from a large family. It didn’t hurt, either. 
that modeling jobs—for furniturestore 
ads and things like that—began to ma- 
terialize without much delay. She's also 
had a number of olfers to act; but so 

she’s turned them all down because 
she feels acting would be “too time- 
consuming." Christine still sees her rela- 
tives fairly often—her brother lives in 
nearby Hawthorne—but home is now 
her Long Bcach apartment, and when 


Christine, who'll try "olmost anything,” 
is fond of motorcycle dirt riding. She also 
digs bicycles, but somebody recently took 
her ten-speed from in front of the hou 

*4 efi it unlocked for oll of five minutes!” 


Our Playmate takes a sp d hes to get o little 
first aid for her bruises. It reminds her of the time 
she wns cycling on the Pacific Const Highway, wearing 


a short blouse that inspired a matorist to ogle her— 
and bump inta a von. No serious damoge—then or now. 


Christine and Tim manage ta get together at her Lang 
Beach apartment for an early unwrapping af СІ 
mos gifts, but later she has ta bid him goodbye; she ll 
be spending the holidays with her falks in Tracy; he'll 
be samewhere at sea on a nuclear-powered destrayer. 


she's not posing for photographers, she busies herself in classic California 
style—swimming and waterskiing, riding a motorcycle or cruising around 
in the '64 Dodge that she keeps threatening to fix up. Last year, she 
widened her horizons with a nineday junket to Hong Kong, and she 
was thoroughly need by the unfamiliar sights, sounds and smells of 
the Orient, Christine also makes frequent excursions to Disneyland, where 
her visits haven't been without incident: “Once Porky Pig was picking out 
girls to dance with during a show, and when he picked mc, I was so em 
barrased 1 started running through the crowd—with the Big Bad Мой 
chasing me. Next time I'll know what they're up to in advance and I'll 

away before they notice me.” Which indicates that Miss December is 
still a modest, small-town girl at heart. We wouldn't have it any other way 


Her dad cuts the turkey 
at a family holiday get- 
tagether. Actually, it's a 

feast whenever they gather, 
since the clan makes up a 
sizable part of Tracy's popula- 
tion: Christine has faur sisters 
and a brother; the oldest ond 
youngest siblings cre almost 

30 years apart. Christine—who 
says she loyes kids—alsa has 

no fewer than eight nieces and 
nephews. Below: Making like 
prospector, Christine pans for 
gold while visiting a ghost 

town in the California hin- 
terland. But if any nuggets 
eluded the 49ers, they don't 
seem to be biting today. 


Far from the city and its 
aggravations, Christine— 
always at home outdoors— 
enjoys a few reflective 
moments in the company 
of rocks, water and logs. 
Los Angeles may have 
taught her a few things, 
but it hasn't spoiled her. 
She's unpretentious and 
telaxed—and we havea 
hunch she'll stay that way. 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


A man grew desperate at being dragged along 
by his wife on Saturday clothes-buying expedi- 
tions to carry the packages and watch her purse. 
During one such excursion, she elbowed her 
way into the crowd at a lingeriesale counter, 
held up a pair of flimsy panties and asked her 
husband quite audibly if he liked them. “Z cer- 
tainly do, darling,” he said brightly, “but I don’t 
think your husband would approve of them 
at all!” 

The following Saturday he got to stay home 
and watch basketball. 


B.y.O.B. has been variously interpreted as 
manng Bring Your Own Bottle or Bring Your 
Own Blonde. Some strapped harhecue enthu- 
siasts are now using it to indicate Bring Your 
Own Весі. 


When the surgeon came to see her on the 
morning after her operation, the young wom- 
an asked him somewhat hesitantly how long it 
would be before she could resume her sex life. 
“I really haven't thought about it,” gulped the 
stunned surgeon. “You're the first patient who's 
asked me that after a tonsillectomy!” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines vampire 
in drag as a Transylvestite. 


The bride smiled sweetly at her maid of honor 
when they both happened to hear the groom 
say to his best man, "Look, I'm so positive Ann's 
a virgin that I'll give you odds of ten to one.” 

But later, as the newlyweds drove off from the 
reception, Ann screeched, “How could you do 
such a thing? We've only been married a couple 
of hours, and already you're throwing moncy 
away!” 


An Irishman from Belfast immigrated to the 
United States and promptly went to an employ- 
ment agency. “Oh, so you're from Northern 
Ireland,” commented the interviewer. “Tell 
me, what are things really like there?” 

“They could be worse,” the immigrant noted 
laconically. 

“And what was your last job in Belfast?” 

“Tail gunner on a bread truck.” 


Why. that was outand-out pornography!" 
spluttered the woman to her college-professor 
husband as they left the movie theater. 

“As you say, my dear,” replied the man dryly, 
“but do try to be precise in your terminology. 
‘Inand-out pornography would much more 
aptly describe it.” 


The tradition of putting an angel on the top of 
the Christmas tree has an interesting origin, 
according to our researchers. It seems that Santa 
Claus had the flu, his wife had been nagging 
him, Donner and Blitzen had had an argument 
and were not pulling together and the elves 
were threatening to strike and refused to fix a 
loose runner on the sleigh. . . . 

And then, right after he learned that Mrs. 
Claus's mother was coming to visit them, there 
was a knock at the door. When the old gent 
opened it, he saw a little angel standing out- 

“Hi, Santa,” piped the visitor cheerfully. 
Tve brought your Christmas tree, C.O.D. 
Where should I put it?” 


Gourmets can't agree on the merits of German- 
Chinese cuisine. The food is great, but half an 
hour later you're hungry for power. 


Now. sir," said the sociologist who was doing an 
in-depth study of conditions and attitudes in 
Appalachia, "what are your professional views 
on the increasing employment of aphrodisiacs?” 

“Waal,” ruminated the man being ques- 
tioned, "as long as they do their job, I don't 
think it makes no difference how they wears 
their hair.” 


In the powder room of a fashionable cocktail 
lounge, a very successful young woman about 
town was being questioned by some of her envi- 
ous acquaintances. “How did you get that love- 
ly mink?" they asked her. And “How could you 
afford those diamonds?” And “How did you 
manage that fantastic sports car?” 

Her response to each query was the same: “I 
simply had another deposit made in my bank 
account. 

Suddenly, the golden girl's cigarette dropped 
into her lap and her filmy dress burst into 
flames. “Help, help!” yelled one of the women. 
“The bank's on бге!" 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a post- 
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, 
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, 
ll. 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


forget darwin and all that adam and 
eue stuff —this is how it really happened 


fiction Once upon 


a time, in 
the days before history was discovered, there were only 
a few, a very few people in the world, perhaps 50 alto 
gether. And they were all men, As they were all men, 
they did not, for reasons that will be apparent to the 
more worldly of you, increase in number but lived an 
idyllic masculine existence. 

They had no knowledge or even awareness of sex 
and, as a result, they did not suffer from either stomach 
acidity or ambition, which are, as is well known, the 
cause of all evil, including death. 

The men's normal day (continued on page 180) 


ERE WAS A TIME when no self 
Ц er magician would dare go 
on stage in anything less than white tie 
and tails. How else would he be able to 
tap his top hat with his ivory-tipped cane 
and produce a rabbit or two or three? The 
famed Houdini, for example, wouldn't 
have been caught dead without his soup- 
and-fish, even when locked in a trunk un 
der 20 feet of water. But magicians and 
times have changed. The trend among 
lusionists—and among those who move in 
the social world that calls for “formal- 
wear"—is away from whitetie/black-ti 
jacketing. Magicians come on far 
more casually these days, as do today's 
night people, who manage to conjure up a 
look of elegance while avoiding the slight- 
est resemblance to a flock of penguins. 
And so it is with Bill Bixby, onc of Holly- 
wood's better-dressed leading inen. 
master of legerdemain i 
and star of NBC's new series The Magi- 
cian. In the accompanying photographs, 
Bill demonstrates dramatically that for- 
malwear can be fun, while he runs 
through some of the more mind-bogglin 
feats he will perform on tele 
out. regrettably. the lovely assis 
has here). It is, of course, against the 


The lady’s in suspense as Bixby hoops it up 

in a mohair and wool dinner jocket with 
silk-satin peak lapels, slash pockets and 
deep center vent; slightly flared trousers 

опа double-breasted silk satin vest are 

Part of the act, all from Le Dernier 

Cri, $340. Appearing behind the 

velvet bow tie, $10, is an eggshell-colar 
cotton shirt, $40, both by Le Dernier Cri. 
Below, the old quick switch is given a new 
lock as Bixby reappears in a black cashmere 
cardigan, $120, wl shirt, $45, ond. 
matching bow tie, $12.50, as well as trousers 
with satin side trim, $75, all by Ralph Lauren. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY MARIO CASILLI 


Above, Bixby creates a penetrating spectacle 
while wearing o flaral cotton-chiffon shirt, 
$70, natural-chamois trousers, $125, and 
silver-studded leather belt, $35, cll by. 

Mike Bein. Top right, our master magician 
takes off on The Lady or the Tiger, while 
tricked out in a gray-flannel dinner jacket and 
trousers, by Pinky & Dianne for Pretty Boy 
Floyd, $150, raised white-on-white ploid 
polyester shirt, by Pierre Cardin, $25, and a 
gray suede rose, by Laura Paprika, $6.50. 
Right, for the grond finole, Bixby divides and 
conquers in a deep-gray mohair and wool 
dinner jacket with shawl collar and flap 
pockets, and trousers with velvet trim, $260, a 
rufle-front polyester shirt, $25, block tie, 
$7.50, and—with a bow to Mandrake— 

a black Dacran/cotton cape with 

red-satin lining, $70, all by After Six 


magician's code of honor to reveal the 
secrets of his profession, and we wouldn't 
think of pressuring Mr. Bixby into 
loosening the string on his bag of tricks, 
despite our frustrations. So we can only 
assume that levitation is an act that takes 
great concentration to perform: One slip 
of the mind—and the subject will surely 
fall. Though it appears slightly less dan 
gerous. the Strap Exchange obviously re. 
quires perfect coordination, Before the 
curtain is closed, the girl is strapped and 
locked in, When the curtain is opened 
seconds later, she is free and Mr. Bixby 
has somehow become the prisoner. Am: 
ing! And how does one shine a light 
through a human body or change an ас 
tractive lady into a tiger right before our 
eyes? And the rather bizarre feat at right 
in which a perfectly formed lady goes all 
10 pieces? It’s all beyond us. For that mat- 
"t pretend to comprehend the 
neat trick that goes into putting together 
опа formalwear. But we do know 
that when it's done right, it always works 


PLAYBOY 


180 


began around 11, when they began mak- 
ing plans for lunch. When not eating 
or sleeping, they occupied themselves by 
smoking cheap cigars, hunting, fishing, 
using foul language, gambling, drinking, 
quarreling, wrastling, bragging and sweat- 
ing a lot. In a word, they devoted them- 
selves to those natural pursuits to which 
the male is congenitally suited. 

So that this socicty could exist in an 
orderly manner, each man had one job 
assigned to him. One man, Pablo, was 
the cheap-cigar maker. Another, Beaure- 
gard, was the tobacco grower. Another 
raised pigs and another was the book- 
maker. Sam was a tailor and Casey was a 
distiller, One, Adamovitch, was the chef, 
an important position because the men 
ate in a communal dining hall, which 
was built, of course, by the carpenters 
(Charley the framer, Christofsen the 
joiner and Hans the roofer). 

In time the men, as was only natural, 
became proud of their own specialty or 
job and considered its practice their per- 
sonal prerogative and a proper subject 
for lying and bragging and quarreling. 
This circumstance was to prove, as we 
will learn, unfortunate. Because there 
arose an exception. Although the other 
men never thought of infringing upon 
the plumber's right to plumb or the shoe- 
makers right to make sneakers, they 
would on occasion da their own conk- 
ing. On Sunday morning or late at night, 
they would often fry a recently trapped 
rabbit or boil up a mess of beans and 
pork. Or make sandwiches. 

Now, in those days, the men were di- 
vided racially, or, to use a more con- 
temporary word, ethnically. roughly along 
the same lines one finds in the species 
Homo sapiens today. Some were Teu- 
tonic, some Latin, some black, some Ori- 
ental, and so on. This, I think, has some 
bearing on what happened, because 
Adamovitch the chef was a Slav and, as 
such, was more apt than some of the 
others to feel that his honor had been 
impugned. 

"Whenever he discovered any of the 
other men cooking, Adamovitch would 
fly into a rage. They were, he felt cor- 
rectly, taking advantage. It was not fair. 
He threatened and remonstrated but to 
no avail, and in time he became bitter 
and, at last, vindictive. 

He decided to take steps. “I gone fix 
all chem shitheads,” he would mutter. "I 
don't grow no tobacco. I don't take no 
bets. They shudden do no cooking." 

Adamovitch thought and thought and 
finally he had an idea. He decided to 
make a change and, by so deciding, he 
affected the future of the world, irrevers- 
ibly. for all time, because change is and 
always has been destructive and wicked, 
as that which exists is always better than 
that which does not exist. If you don't 


believe this simple maxim, then you ob- 
viously haye not studied such recorded 
history as is available concerning the 
latter-day experiences of the human race. 

Adamovitch had figured out that if 
other men could cook, then he was rc- 
lieved of the restrictions that kept him. 
from practicing their specialties, so as a 
first step in his master plan for revenge, 
he decided to steal some of the secrets of 
Albert the magician. In those days, there 
was no skepticism and in the face of a 
total lack of disbelief, Albert was able to 
perform actual magic. It was his skill in 
necromancy that provided the community 
with such basic requirements as felt 
for the pool tables, matches to light the 
cheap cigars and metal equipment for the 
construction specialists. 

Adamovitch began to hang around 
Albert's workshop and in a few months, 
he had learned something of the tech- 
niques Albert used and managed to steal 
a number of secret ingredients, such 
as powdered toad liver, bats wing and 
Bi So Dol. 

"These, along with other arcane condi- 
ments, he added to a largish lump of 
dough he was allowing to ferment in the 
back of his kitchen. The lump of dough 
was the basis of his plot. He planned to 
use it to create a New Fellow, a golem, 
who would be his slave and do whatever 
he told him. He would, he reasoned, 
teach the New Fellow to do all of the 
other men's specialties, to sew clothes, 
slop hogs, make cigars, etc. He would 
create chaos. He would get even 

Adamovitch devoted all of his spare 
time (he still cooked the meals for the 
‘other men) to his mysterious project, con- 
stanly kneading and rekneading the 
swelling lump of dough. He began to 
anthropomorphize the lump and gave it 
a name, Steve, “Hey, Steve,” he would 
whisper to it as he rolled it about the 
floor, "we gone fix all them shitheads. 
You bet.” 

When questioned about his activity, he 
merely said he was working on a recipe 
for a superior soda cracker, and such was 
the innocence and lack of genuine sus- 
picion in those days that nothing was 
thought of it. 

Finally, at midnight on the first full 
moon of spring. Adamovitch the chef in- 
scribed a pentagram on the dirty floor 
of his kitchen and, placing the dough 
le it, he began to mold it into a 
human form. Having no training as an 
artist, his work left much to be desired. 
It bulged in some places, was too thin 
in others and was generally out of pro- 
portion, However, it was his own and he 
viewed it with pride and affection. “Hey, 
Steve,” he said, “you gone be one hand- 
some sumbitch.” 

When he had the form completed to 
satisfaction, he modeled the face, 


two jumbo olives for eyes and chicken 
livers for lips. For a heart he inserted a 
small pigs knuckle. Realizing his crea- 
ture needed brains, he filled the inside 
of its head with oatmeal, to which he 
added marjoram, rosemary, cumin, bay 
leaves and peppercorns. He then put a 
mop atop the creature's head and ar 
ranged its worn strands to simulate hair. 
Stepping out of the pentagram, he studied 
his creation critically for a full minute 
before he noticed a singular omission. 
“Goddamn!” he said. “Hcy, Steve, you 
got nothing to pee with. I fix that." 
Getting a Knackwurst from the refrigera- 
tor, he stuck it deftly into the creature's 
crotch. “There,” he said. "Now you a 
real regular fellow." 

Adamovitch sat down, wiped the sweat 
from his face and beard and picked up a 
book of incantations for all occasions he 
had stolen from Albert. Leafing through 
it, he picked one at random and began 
ing an odd sauce. As he mixed, he 
toned the following: 


Depilatory, Listerine, 

Bobby pins and hormone cream, 
Blood-red paint, a fall of hair, a 
Pinch of Pan-Cake, green mascara, 
Pucci, Gucci, Blue Chip stamps, 
Ortho-Novum, monthly cramps, 
Playtex, Windex, I. U. D.s, 
Ohrbach's, tampons, frozen peas, 
Anacin and Feminique, 

A page from B. Friedan's “Mystique,” 
Ajax, Sardo, Big Blue Cheer, 
Steinem, Millett, Germaine Greer! 


A doud of noxious smoke rose at once 
from the sauce and Adamovitch hur- 
riedly brushed it over his human figure. 
Finished, he placed it on its back on a 
long tray and slid it headfirst into the 
hot oven. Unfortunately, he discovered 
that the figure was too long, and he had 
to shove the legs up in order to close 
the door. This tended to make his crea- 
tion shorter, lumpier and bulgici the 
seat than he had intended. 

Then he sat down to wait. Throughout 
the night, he occasionally opened the 
oven door and poked at the figure with 
long spatula to sce how it was coming 
long. It was dark in the oven and he 
didn't notice that his prods with the 
spatula first dislodged the Knackwurst he 
had attached to his golem and subse- 
quendy made a deep crevice between 
its legs 

‘Toward morning, Adamovitch the chef 
fell asleep. 

He was awakened around ten o'clock 
by loud sounds of banging, clanging and 
swooshing. Leaping up, he saw that his 
kitchen had undergone a shocking trans- 
formation. Layers upon layers of scum 
and grease had been scraped from his 
stove, which now glistened obscenely at 
him. Two tablecloths had been h 
up, one on each side of his window. And 
by the door, tie New Fellow was busy 

(concluded on page 254) 


mothers, you better know where your kiddies are—cause silverstein’s loose in the nursery 


Uncle Shelbys Mother ase 


9 Im 


TOM TOM THE PIPER'S SON 
STOLE A PIG AND AWAY.HE RUN 


H 
H 
H 


eesecosesssesesosqossosseasosone 


THREE BLIND MICE 
SEE HOW THEY RUN 
THEY ALL RAN AFTER THE FARMER'S WIFE 
SHE CUT OFF THEIR TAILS WITH A 
CARVING KNIFE JUST AS THE MAN FROM 
S.P.C.A. WALKED IN AND.... 


AND TOM WENT CRYING 
DOWN THE STREET. 

SO LEARN THIS LESSON, 
CHILDREN ALL; 

AND DON'T BE A PIG 

OR STEAL ANYTHING SMALL 


Jack 


JACK BE NIMBLE 
JACK BE QUICK 
> JACK JUMP OVER 

THE CANDLESTICK 
UNTIL FINALLY 
HIS PANTS CATCH 
ON FIRE AND 
THEY TAKE HIM 
TO THE HOSPITAL 
AND HE MAY NEVER 
WALK AGAIN -- 
EXCEPT ON 
CRATCHES -- 

SO STAY AWAY 
FROM CANDLES 
AND MATCHES ! 


DP 


H 
H 


Hubbard 


OLD MOTHER HUBBARD 
WENT TO THE CUPBOARD 
TO GET HER POOR DOG A BONE. 


BUT WHEN SHE GOT THERE 
THE CUPBOARD WAS BARE 
AND SO THE POOR DOG HAD NONE! 


: 
H 


SO WHAT DO YOU THINK HE DONE...? 


$9690s00000040000000000095000400000 0000000 0000000005400 4009 000000000 0000000 


n—————X—— M 


DID D К л ЛКК ГРН 


182 


LITTLE JACK HORNER 
SAT IN THE CORNER 
EATING HIS 

CHRISTMAS PIE, 

HE STUCK IN HIS THUMB 
(WHICH WAS FULL OF 
GERMS) AND GOT 
DYSENTERY AND 
PTOMAINE AND HAD TO 
BE RUSHED TO THE 
HOSPITAL TO GET HIS 
STOMACH PUMPED OUT 
AND MISSED GOING TO 
CAMP AND HAD TO STAY 
IN THE CITY ALL 
SUMMER AND GOT 

HIT BY A CAR 


GOOSEY GOOSEY Gos ч 
GANDER 

WHERE DO 

YOU WANDER? 

UPSTAIRS AND 5 

DOWNSTAIRS 


IN MY LADY'S CHAMBER. 
THERE I MET 

AN OLD MAN WHO WOULD 
NOT SAY HIS PRAYERS. 
I TOOK HIM BY THE 
LEFT LEG AND THREW 
HIM DOWN THE STAIRS. 
(AND WHAT WILL YOU 
DO IF YOUR GRAND- 


ELTITLIELIITITELIELTETTELTIITTELEIITLIRILER 


FATHER WILL NOT 
SAY HIS PRAYERS?) 


eesossssecsisostotio besos i00000000090000000 0900000000000) 0000000090 9000000 00000000000 000 


MARY, MARY, 
QUITE CONTRARY 
HOW DOES YOUR 
GARDEN GROW? 
WITH SILVER BELLS 
AND COCKLESHELLS 
AND PRETTY MAIDS 
ALL IN A ROW 
AND A LITTLE 
HORSE MANURE... 
JUST TO BE SURE. 


2690500000 000000050900000090000002 90000000000 


WEE 
WILLIE 


AND DOWNSTAIRS 
IN HIS NIGHTGOWN 
TAPPING AT THE 
WINDOW, CRYING 
THROUGH THE LOCK, 
"ARE THE CHILDREN 
ALL IN BED, FOR IT'S 


PAST EIGHT O'CLOCK’ 
AND WHAT IS IT HIS 
BUSINESS, ANYWAY, 

THE DIRTY LITTLE FINK. 
MAYBE TONIGHT WE GET 
A BUNCH OF THE KIDS 
TOGETHER AND BEAT THE 
HELL OUT OF HIM AND 
STAY UP AS LATE AS 

ME WANT! 


eens 


LONDON BRIDGE 

IS FALLING DOWN 
FALLING DOWN 
FALLING DOWN 
LONDON BRIDGE 

IS FALLING DOWN -- 


SO MAKE SURE THE DYNAMITE 
IS PLANTED JUST RIGHT! 


eese eesssnecesso heec oo soo ваооововавованооооовозоовоаованеоновевеооааненооненеоооеноонооеооотенитое. 


HARK, HARK, 
THE DOGS DO BARK BYE BABY BUNTING 


DADDY'S GONE A-HUNTING 


THE BEGGARS 

ARE COMING TO GET A LITTLE 
TO TOWN RABBIT'S SKIN 
SOME IN RAGS TO WRAP HIS 

AND SOME IN TAGS BABY BUNTING IN 
AND SOME IN AND LEAVE THE 


POOR LITTLE BUNNY 
RABBIT ALL SKINNED 
AND BLEEDING IN 
THE SNOW, 

ALL FOR YOUR 
LOUSY BUNTING!!! 


VELVET GOWNS. 
AND IT'S THE ONES 
IN VELVET GOWNS 

I WANT YOU TO 
KEEP AWAY FROM... 
EVEN IF THEY 
OFFER YOU CANDY! ! 


ПОТЕ 
Т 


СРЕТНА 


WHAT ARE LITTLE 

BOYS MADE OF? 

FROGS AND SNAILS 

AND PUPPY-DOGS' TAILS 
AND BLOOD 
AND ENTRAILS 
AND MUSCLE 
AND INTESTINE 
AND.... 


PEAS PORRIDGE HOT 
PEAS PORRIDGE COLD 
PEAS PORRIDGE 

IN THE POT 

NINE DAYS OLD 

SO TRY A BOWL IN THE 
SCHOOL CAFETERIA, 
WITH ITS NINE-DAY-OLD 
GREEN BACTERIA. 


etep Neve 


PETER, PETER, 
PUMPKIN-EATER 
HAD A WIFE AND 
COULDN'T KEEP HER 
HE PUT HER IN A 
PUMPKIN SHELL 
AND THERE HE KEPT 
HER VERY WELL... 
UNTIL THE POLICE 
CAME AND FOUND 
HER THERE A 

MONTH LATER, 
COMPLETELY-- 


eas 
orridge 


LITTLE TOMMY TUCKER 
SINGS FOR HIS SUPPER 
WHICH IS IN DIRECT 
VIOLATION OF RULE 217 
OF THE MUSICIANS' UNION, 
WHICH CLEARLY STATES: 
ALL PAYMENT FOR ALL 
PERFORMANCES SHALL BE 


M 


3 BUT I'M AFRAID 
xA 5 2 THE REST OF THE STORY 
115 A LITTLE TOO CORY...! 


оноо оовооооо ноо оаене оооетоотовеонооооененоооеееооаоееонаевован 


fiction 


BY TENNESSEE WILLIAMS 


she called 
them memory roses 
and she wanted 
to scatier 
them around town 
in homage to 
all her lovers 


3 W Wp 155 COYNTE OF GREENE 
was the unhappily 
dutiful caretaker of 
a bedridden grand 

mother, This old lady, the grandmother whom Miss 
Coynte addressed as Mère and sometimes to herself 
as merde, had outlived all relatives except Miss 
Coynte, who w agle lady approaching 30. 

"The precise cause of Miss Coynte's grandmother's 
bedridden condition had never been satisfactorily 
explained tn Mise Соуте by their physician in 
Greene, and Miss Coynte, though not particularly 
inclined to paranoia, entertained the suspicion that 
the old lady was simply too lazy to get herself up, 
even to enter the bathroom. 

"What is the matter with Mêre, Dr. Sete?” 

Matter with your grandmother?” he would say 
reflectively, looking into the middle distance. "Well, 
frankly, you know, 1 have not exactly determined 
nic nature that really accounts 


anything of an o 
for her staying so much in bed." 
Dr. Settle, she docs not sta much in bed, but 


what I mean.” 


she stays constantly in it, if you kno 

"Oh, s, 1 know what you mean, 

“Do you know, Dr. Settle, that I mean she is what 
they call ‘incontinent’ now, and that I have to spend. 
half my time changing the linen on the bed?" 

Dr. Settle was not unsettled at all by this report 

It's one of a number of geriatric problems that 
one has to accept." he observed dreamily а 
toward the downstairs door. "Oh, where did J put 
my hat? 

You didn't have one,” replied Miss Coynte 
rather sharply 

He gave her a brief, somewhat suspicion 
and said, "Wall, possibly 1 left it in the office 
ossibly you left your head there, too. 

"What was that you said?" inquired the old doc 
tor, who had heard her perfectly well 

[said that Chicken Little says the sky is falling, 
replied Miss Coynte without a change of expression. 

The doctor nodded vaguely, gave her his prac 
ticed little smile and let himself out the door. 


he made 


"lance 


Miss Coynte's grandmother had two major articles 
vis her bedside table. One of them was a telephc 


| N 


a | E 


PLAYBOY 


into which she babbled all but inces- 
santly to anyone she remembered who 
was still living and of a social echelon 
that she regarded as speakable to, and 
the other important article was a loud- 
mouthed bell that she would ring be- 
tween phone tzlks to summon Miss 
Coynte for some service. 

Most frequently she would declare that 
the bed necded changing, and while Miss 
Coynte performed this odious service, 
Mére would often report the salient 
points of her latest phone conversation. 

Rarely was there much in these reports 
that would be of interest to Miss Coynte, 
but now, on the day when this narrative 
begins, Mére engaged her granddaugh- 
ters attention with a lively but deadly 
little anecdote. 

“You know, I was just talking to Susie 
and Susie told me that Dotty Reagan, you 
know Dotty Reagan, she weighs close to 
three hundred pounds, the fattest woman 
in Greene, and she goes everywhere with 
this peculiar little young man who they 
say isa fairy, if you know what I mean." 

"No. Mére, can you swing over a little 
so I can change the sheet?" 

“Well, anyway, Dotty Reagan was walk- 
ing along the street with this little fairy 
who hardly weighs ninety pounds, a 
breeze would blow him away. and they 
had reached the drugstore corner, where 
they were going to buy sodas, when Dotty 
Reagan said to the fairy, ‘Catch me, I'm 
going to fall,’ and the little fairy said to 
her, ‘Dotty, you're too big to catch,’ and 
so he let her fall on the drugstore 
corner.” 

“Oh,” said Miss Coynte, still trying to 
tug the soiled sheet from under her 
grandmother's massive and immobile 
body on the brass bed. 

“Yes, he let her fall. He made no effort 
to catch her.” 

"Ol aid Miss Coynte again. 

“Is that all you can say, just 'Oh'?" 
inquired her grandmother. 

Miss Coynte had now managed by al- 
most superhuman effort to get the soiled 
bed sheet from under her grandmother's 
great swollen body. 

“No, I was going to ask you if anything 
was broken, I mean like a hipbone, when 
Dotty Reagan fell.” 

A slow and malicious smile began to 
appear on the face of Miss Coynte's 
grandmother. 

“The coroner didn't examine the body 
for broken bones," the grandmother said, 
“since Dotty Reagan was stone-cold dead 
by the time she hit the pavement of the 
corner by the drugstore where she had in- 
tended to have an ice-cream soda with her 
fairy escort who didn't try to catch her 
when she told him that she was about 
to fall. 

Miss Coynte did not smile at the 
‘ory, for, despite her con- 
nota frigid, spinster ap- 
proaching 30, she had not acquired the 
alice of her grandmother and, actually, 


she felt a sympathy both for the defunct 
Dotty Reagan and for the 90-pound fairy 
who had declined to catch her. 

“Were you listening to me or was I just 
wasting my breath as usual when I talk to 
your” inquired her grandmother, flush- 
ing with anger. 

“I heard what you said," said Miss 
Coynte, “but I have no comment to make 
on the story except that the little man 
with her would probably have suffered a 
broken back, if not a fracture of all 
bones, if Miss Dotty Reagan had fallen 
on top of him if he had tried to catch 
her.” 

“Yes, well, the fairy had sense enough 
not to catch her and so his bones were 
not fractured.” 

“I see,” said Miss Coynte. “Can you lie 
on the rubber sheet for a while ill I wash 
some clean linen?” 

“Be quick about it and bring me a 
bowl of strawberry sherbet and a couple 
of cookies,” ordered the grandmother. 

Miss Coynte got to the door with the 
soiled sheet and then she turned on her 
grandmother for the first ime in her ten 
years of servitude and she said something 
that startled her nearly out of her wits. 

“How would you like a bowl full of 
horseshitz" she said to the old lady, and 
then she slammed the door. 

She had hardly slammed the door 
when the grandmother began to scream 
like a peacock in heat; she let out scream 
after scream, but Miss Coynte ignored 
them She went downstairs and she did 
not wash linen for the screaming old 
lady. She sat on a small sofa and listened 
to the screams. Suddenly, one of them was 
interrupted by a terrific gasp. 

"Dead," thought Miss Coynte. 

She breathed an exhausted sigh. Then 
she said, “Finally.” 

She relaxed on the sofa and soon into 
her fancy came that customary flood of 
erotic imagination. 

Creatures of fantasy in the form of 
young men began to approach her 
through the room of the first floor, clut- 
tered with furnishings and brica-brac in- 
herited from the grandmother's many 
dead relatives. All of these imaginary 
young lovers approached Miss Coynte 
with expressions of desire. 

They exposed themselves to her as 
they approached, but never having seen 
the genitals of a male older than the 
year-old son of a cousin, Miss Coynte 
had а somewhat diminutive concept of 
the exposed organs. She was easily satis- 
fied, though, having known, rather seen, 
nothing better. 

After a few hours of these afternoon 
fantasies, she went back up to her grand- 
mother. The old lady's eyes and mouth 
were open, but she had obviously 
stopped breathing. . . . 

Much of human behavior is, of course, 
automatic, at least on the surface, so 
there should be no surprise in Miss 


Coyntes actions following her grand- 
mother's death. 

About a week after that long-delayed 
event, she leased an old store on Marble 
Sueet, which was just back of Front 
Street on the levee, and she opened a 
shop there called The Better Mousetrap. 
She hired a black man with two mules 
and a wagon to remove a lot of the in- 
herited household wares, especially the 
brica-brac, from the house, and then she 
advertised the opening of the shop in the 
daily newspaper of Greene. In the lower- 
left-hand corner of the ad, elegant 
Victorian script, she 
Valerie Coynte, inserted, and 
her how little embarrassment she felt over 
the immodesty of putting her name in 
print in a public newspaper. 

The opening was well auended, the 
name Coynte being one of historical em 
nence in the Delta. She served fruit 
punch from a large cucglass bowl with a 
black man in a white jacket passing it 
out, and the next day the occasion was 
written up in several papers in that part 
of the Delta. Since it was approaching 
the Christmas season, the stuff moved 
well. The first stock had to be almost 
completely replaced after the holiday 
season, and still the late Mére's house 
was almost overflowing with marketable 
uities. 
iss Coynte had a big publicity break 
in late January, when the Memphis Com- 
mercial Appeal did a feature article 
about the success of her enterprise. 

It was about a week after this favora- 
ble write up that a young man employed 
as assistant manager of the Hotel Alcazar 
crossed the street to the shop to buy a 
pair of antique silver salt and pepper 
shakers as а silver-wedding-anniversary 
gift for the hotel's owner, Mr. Vernon T. 
Silk, who was responsible for the young 
man's abrupt ascendancy from a job as 
bellhop to his present much more im- 
pressive position at the hotel. 

More impressive it certainly was, this 
new position, but it was a good deal less 
lucrative, for the young man, Jack Jones, 
had been extraordinarily well paid for 
his services when he was hopping bells. 
He had been of a thrifty nature and after 
only six months, he had accumulated a 
savings account at the Mercantile Bank 
that ran into four figures, and it was 
rumored in Greene that he was now 
preparing to return to Louisiana, buy a 
piece of land and become a sugar-cane 
planter. 

His name, Jack Jones, has been men- 
tioned, and it probably struck you as a 
suspiciously plain sort of name and I feel 
that, without providing you with a full- 
figure portrait of him in color, executed 
by an illustrator of remarkable talent, 
you can hardly be expected to see him 
as clearly as did Miss Coynte when he 
entered The Better Mousetrap with the 

(continued on page 198) 


Exhibition ski 

boot with high 

front and bock 
wrops oround leg to 
absorb shocks and 
distribute pres- 
sures; rolsed heel 
allows for forward 
lean, by Hanson, 
$175 a pair. 


CHRISTIN 


р ре 
one U1 
Q spe e great 


poroso 


Sree 


Above: Coronamotic 
electric portable 
typewriter with car- 
tridge ribbon system 
features quick-set visi- 
ble margins and change- 
able type, by Smith- 
Corona, about $260, 
including carrying case. 
Below: Equipage 4-az, 
cologne atamizer, $8, 
cologne, 4 ozs., $7.50, 
and bar of soap in dish, 
$3, all by Hermés. 


Above: An elegant 
tria of art-decoatyle 
accessories made fram 
palisonder wood and 18- 

kt. gold include a cig- 

arette case, $2500, 

a lighter with 

Dunhill warks, $1500, 

and a double pillbox, 

$850, all frem Hunting World. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DON AZUMA 


Below: Individually hand-blown Halmegaord 

glasses in o new stemware pattern called Flute Include 
a 1%-oz. cardial, $9, and a 10-oz. beer glass, 

$18.50 (champagne and sherry styles also available), 
all fram Svond Jensen af Denmark. Battom: 
Sterling-ilver tea holder, from Bulgari, $700. 


Above: Karl Springer- 
designed polished- 
steel ond Lucite folding. 
choir with padded 
leather sling measures 
35” high by 21” wi 
by 19" деер; 
available through 
interior decora- 
tara anly, $1500. 


Above: Golf irans 
made by costing rath- 
er than farging club 
heods ore said 

to give swinger 

a much broader 
“sweet spot," extra 
score lines offer 

more conirol of back 
spin, by Lynx, $325 
for set of 10 irons, 


PLAYBOYS CHRISTMAS GIFT GUIDE 


Right: Model Z-1 
4-<ylinder superbike with 
903 c.c., disk brakes 

up front ond drum at 
rear, plus a five- 

speed gearbox, by 
Kawasaki, $1995 P.O.E. 
West Coast. 


р 


19144 e ч 


Л 


et, 


Left: Cognac Grande 
Champagne of the 
same blend that 

was served 

to King George 

Vl in 1938 comes 
packaged in a hand- 
blown Baccarat 
decanter, by Remy 
Martin, about $75. 


Right: Fire Xtinguisher 
that’s both handsome 
‘ond practical meas- 
ures 1234" x 3a" x 
27%” and contains 2% 
pounds af dry chemi- 
col, by Rogin 

limited, $17.50. 


CHRISTMAS Gi 


FT © 


UIDE 


Left: Curvilinear foor- 
standing speaker 

aytem employs spherical 
airsuspension enclo- 


Loft: 17-j0wel 
blank-faced starling- 
silver wrist watch 
with lizardskin 

band end a sapphire 
crown, by Corum, $340. 


Зи" №ен 


rs, by Elec 


Left: Expandable picnic 
bag of Leatherlux 
(canvas that has been 
vinylized) and bri- 

dle leather, from 
Hunting World, $350. 


¿Dun sp ^24 wy (ш 
1102 Г 104m som DY L, 


THE VARGAS GIRL 


PLAYBOY 


MISSCOYNTE OF GREENE continued rom page 180) 


5 those antique 
Vernon Silk's 

Mr. Jones was a startlingly personable 
young man, perhaps more startlingly so 
in his original occupation as bellhop. not 
that there had been a decline in his looks 
since his advancement at the Alcazar but 
because the uniform of a bellhop had 
cast more emphasis upon certain of his 
physical assets. He had worn, as bellhop, 
a little white mess jacket beneath which 
his narrow, muscular buttocks had jurted 
with a prominence that had often invited 
little pats and pinches even from elderly 
drummers of usually more dignified de- 
portment. They would deliver these little 
jarities as he bent over to set down 
their luggage and sometimes, without 
knowing why, the gentlemen of the road 
would flush beneath their thinning 
thatches of faded hair, would feel an 
obscurely defined embarrassment that 
would incline them to tip Jack Jones at 
least double the ordinary amount of 
their tips to a bellhop. 

Sometimes it went past that. 

“Oh, thank you, suh," Jack would say, 
and would linger smiling before them. 
“Is there anything else that I can do for 


no, son, not right now, 


Later? You'd like some ice, suh?" 

Well, you gct the picture. 

There was a certain state senator, in 
his early 40s, who began to spend every 
weekend at the hotel, and after midnight 
at the Alcazar, when usually the activities 
there were minimal, this junior senator 
would keep Jack hopping the moon out 
of the sky for one service after another — 
for ice, for booze and, finally, for services 
that would detain the youth in the sena- 
tors two-room suite for an hour or more. 

A scandal such as this, especially when 
it involves a statesman of excellent farni- 
ly connections and one much admired by 
his constituency, even mentioned as a 
Presidential possibility in future, is not 
openly discussed; but, privately, among 
the more sophisticated, some innuendoes 
are passed about with a tolerant shrug. 

Well, this is somewhat tangential to 
Miss Coyntes story. but recently the 
handsome young senator's wife—he was 
a benedict of two years’ standing but was 
still childles- took to accompanying 
him on his weekend visits to the Alcazar. 

The lady's name was Alice and she had 
taken to drink. 

The senator would sit up with her in 
the living room of the suite, freshening 
her drinks more frequently than she sug- 
gested, and then, a bit after mid 
seeing that Alice had slipped far down in 
her seat, the junior senator would say to 
her, as if she were still capable of hear- 
ing, “Alice, honey, I think it's beddy time 


198 for you now.” 


He would lift her off the settee and 
carry her into the bedroom, lay her gen- 
dy upon the bed and slip out, locking the 
door behind him: Then immediately he 
would call downstairs for Jack to bring 
up another bucket of ice. 

Now once, on such an occasion, Jack 
let himself into the bedroom, not the liv- 
ing-room door with a passkey, latched the 
door from ide and, after an hour of 
commotion, subdued but audible to adja- 
cent patrons of the Alcazar, the senator's 
lady climbed out naked onto the window 
ledge of the bedroom. 

This was just after the s 
ceeded in forcing his way into that room. 

Well, the lady didn't leap or fall into 
the street. The senator and Jack man- 
aged to coax her back into the bedroom 
from the window ledge and, more or less 
coincidentally, the senator's weekend vis. 
its to the Alcazar were not resumed after 
that occasion, and it was just after that 
occasion that Mr. Vernon Silk had pro- 
moted Jack Jones to his new position as 
night clerk at the hotel. 

In this position, standing behind a 
counter in gentleman's clothes, Jack 
Jones was still an arrestingly personable 
young man, since he had large, heavy- 
lashed eyes that flickered between hazel 
and green and which, when caught by 
light from a certain angle, would seem to 
be almost golden. The skin of his face, 
which usually corresponds to that of the 
body, was flawlessly smooth and of a 
dusky rose color that seemed more sug. 
gestive of an occupation in the daytime, 
in a region of fair weather, than that of a 
night clerk at the Alcazar. And this face 
had attracted the attention of Miss Doro- 
thea Bernice Korngold, who had stopped 
him on the street one day and cried out 
histrionically to him: “Nijinsky, the face, 
the eyes, the cheekbones of the dancer 
Waslaw Nijinsky! Please, please pose for 
me as The Specter of the Rose or as The 
Afternoon of the Faun!" 

“Pose? Just pose?” 

“As the Faun you could be in a reclin- 
ing position on cushions!” 

“Oh, I see. Hmm. Uh-huh. Now, what 
are the rates for posing?” 

“Why, it depends on the hours!” 

"Most things do," said Jack. 

"When are you free?" she gasped. 

"Never," he replied, "but I've got 
afternoons off and if the rates are 


OK. 


ator had suc- 


Well, you get the picture. 

Jack Jones with his several enterprises 
did as well as Miss Соуше of Greene 
with her one. Jack Jones had a single and 
very clear and simple object in mind, 
which was to return to southern Louis 
ana and to buy that piece of land, all his 
own, and to raise sugar cane. 

Miss Coynte's purpose or purposes in 
life were much more clouded over by 


generations of dissimulation and propri- 
ety of conduct, by night and day, than 
those of Jack Jones. 

However, their encounter in The 
Better Mousetrap had the volatile feel- 
ing of an appointment with a purpose; 
at least one, if not several purposes of 
importance. 

She took a long, long time wrapping 
up the antique silver shakers and м 
her nervous fingers were employed at this. 
her tongue was engaged in animated con- 
versation with her lovely young patron. 

At first this conversation was more in 
the nature of an interrogation 

“Mr. Jones, you're not a native of 
Greene?” 

“No, ma'am, I ain't. Sorry. I mean Tm 
not. 

*] didn't think you were. Your accent 
is not Mississippi and you don't have a 
real Mississippi look about you." 

"I don't have much connection with 


de stein junior state 
senator, I heard it from Mère, was pre- 
paring you for a political career in the 
state.” 

“Senator Sharp was a very fine gentle- 
man, ma'am, and he did tell me one time 
that he thought I was cut out for politics 


‘And his wife, Mrs. Alice Sharp?” 
"Mrs. Alice Sharp was a great lady. 


"But inclined to . . . you know?" 

“I know she wanted to take a jump off 
the filth-toor window ledge without 
wings or a parachute, ma'am.” 

“Oh, then Mére was right.” 

“Is this Mére a female hawss you are 
talking about who was right?" 

“Yes, [think so, Tell me. How was Miss 
Alice persuaded not to jump?” 

“Me and the senator caught ahold of 
her just before she could do 

“Well, you know, Mr. Jones, I thought 
that this story of Mére's was a piece of 
invention.” 

“If diis Mère was a female hawss, she 
done a good deal of talking." 

“That she did! Hmm. How long have 
you been in Greene?" 

“TI а been here six months and a 
week next Sunday coming: 

“Why, you must keep a 
exact about the time you arrived herel" 

“No, ma'am, I just remember.” 

“Then you're gifted with a remarkable 
memory,” said Miss Coynte, with a shaky 
little tinkle of laughter, her fingers still 
fussing with the wrapping of the pack- 
age. "I mean to be able to recall that you 
came here to Greene exactly six months 
and a week ago next Sunday." 

“Some things do stick in my mind.” 

"Oh!" 

Pause. 
there a fly in the shop?” 
py 


(continued on page 237) 


е mepalocephalic bird's head 
at Fun stuck across its beal ‘on probation at Walt 
isney World. A dieadful fecling. un-American: like geuing, 
йитте out of the cub scouts for selbabuse. Wherever 1- go 
Hey supervise me. Charlie Ridgway, the Disney public relations, 
‘man, measures his stride to mine, He comes on real cordial, 
wrecked Bert Parks, but his smiles are an afterthought of 
policy. When we interview a Disney employee, Ridgway is 
there, covering, the hard ee S: And the employee's lips 


down, bland and cheertul asa pul 
Castle. lis dozen ‘stiff, circumcised towers look affliacd with 


a chronic priapism. I can't help it: Bawdry teases my mind. 
© Overholy. pompous places have that (continued on page 322) 


IAUSTRATION BY JERRY POOWIL 


COUPLES: Ali MacGraw and Steve McQueen struck sparks 
in 1972's The Getaway (above); now that they're wed, Ali 
is temporarily inactive and Steve's in Papillon. David Car- 
radine and Barbara Hershey Seagull (above right) have 
collaborated in prodi and three films. 


NOTEWORTHIES: Sii 

Diana Ross (below right) have moved stylishly to movies: 
he as a drifter in Blume in Love and Billy in Pat Garrett and 
Billy the Kid, she as Billie Holiday in Lady Sings the Blues. 


PLAYBOY. In all of them, she speaks pride- 
fully of her esophageal prowess and—as 
in her remarks during PLAYBOY's panel 
discussion of New Sexual Life Styles in 
September—of its importance to man- 
kind. Her contributions to that conver- 
sation—in which she was surrounded by 
psychologists, sociologists and other as- 
sorted experts—caused one observer to 
remark: "She may not have a Ph.D., but. 
she's certainly passed her orals." At pres- 
ent, while awaiting the longdelayed re- 
lease of Deep Throat II, Linda is sharing 
a Malibu Beach pad with her good friend 
and manager, Chuck Traynor, about 
whom she says with great earnestness, 
"He taught me everything 1 know." 

Over in the men's camp, 1973 finally 
produced a number of candidates for sex 
stardom to replace the fallen Frasier. 
The busiest of the lot was virile Burt. 
Reynolds, whose coy centerfold in last 
year's April Cosmopolitan definitely 
placed him in the running. A trio of 
films—Shamus, The Man Who Loved 
Gat Dancing and White Lightning— 
helped him maintain that position in 
1973; in all of them, he was praised not 
only for his thespian talents but for his 
even more evident machismo. The fact 
that co-star Sarah Miles had found refuge 
in his digs when her sceretary-manager 
died mysteriously while on location for 
Cat Dancing merely enhanced the im- 
age—although its conceivable that Reyn- 
olds’ constant companion, Dinah Shore, 
might have had some other ideas on the 
matter. Whatever the facts in the case, he 
seems to have wooed and won that spe- 
cial segment of the audience that once 
pledged eternal fealty to Errol Flynn. 

Flinteyed Clint Eastwood is another 
who, at the moment, can do no wrong. 
His High Plains Drifter, in which the 
tangy star again plays a mysterious, 
monosyllabic loner, has stood high on 
the box-office charts for the greater part 
of the year. Magnum Force, his scquel to 
Dirty Harry, scheduled to appear just 
about the time this hits print, can only 
duplicate the success of the earlier film; 
it has all the Eastwood ingredients of 
paranoia, violence end simplistic self- 
righteousness to make it work. Mean- 
while, he has also directed and produced 
Breezy, a surprisingly lyrical and seduc- 
tive amelioration of the generation gap 
starting William Holden as a 50ish cynic 
who would like to think that maybe a 
30-year age differential isn't too bad. 
Eastwood, with a ten-year advantage on 
Holden, is even more apt to attract the 
teeny-bopper crowd—and he doesn't al- 
ways shoo them away. 

But the male sex star of the year has to 
be the protean Marlon Brando, if only 
because he followed his role as the aging, 
faltering Don Corleone in The Godía- 
ther with his multifaceted portrait of a 
failed American in Paris in Bernardo 
Bertolucci's Last Tango in Paris—the 
212 most discussed film of 1973. For some 


PLAYBOY 


critics, his work in Godfather and Last 
Tango removed completely the tarnish 
left on his crown by a full decade of 
flawed movies. Others weren't so sure. 
^While it is a superbly professional 
performance,” wrote Time's reviewer, 
"it is also something of a self-portrait 
He conceded, however, that "the corre- 
spondences between the role and the life 
are not always precise; in the case of 
Pauls kinky sexual predilections and 
darker rages, the viewer can only specu- 
late whether such correspondences exist 
at all." 

Time's man was no doubt being cir- 
cumspect, for, kinky or not, Brando’s sex- 
ual predilections and darker rages have 
been a matter of public record since 
his stormy advent to stardom more than 
two decades ago—particularly since both 
his marriages ended in bitter divorce 
proceedings, followed by even angrier 
wrangling over custody of the children. 
‘One recalls Rita Moreno's attempt at sui- 
cide at Brando's home in 1961, former 
wife Anna Kashfi's several well-publi- 
cized brawls, his long liaison with Tarit: 
the Tahitian beauty he met while film- 
ing Mutiny on the Bounty. Inevitably, 
there were rumors of further entangle- 
ments with his uninhibited Tango co- 
star, bouncy Maria Schneider—rumors 
that she only partially laid to rest with 
her cryptic statement, "We were never 
screwing on the stage.” Brando, as usual, 
said nothing. 

Always a loner, Brando has if anything 
grown even more reclusive of late, spend- 
ing much of his time the South Sea 
Island home he bought in 1966. When he 
speaks out at alll (as, by proxy, in his cele- 
brated “no-show” at this years Academy 
Awards presentation, or in person on 
his 90-minute appearance on The Dick 
Cavett Show), it's about the plight of the 
Indians and similar social concerns, never 
about himself. His insistence on privacy 
is so strong that when, earlier this усаг, 
a magazine writer flew all the way to 
Brando’s island retreat in Tetiaroa, his 
subject met him with a shotgun. The 
writer had to content himself with a 
lengthy piece on how he didn't get an 
interview. Only with dose friends (which 
generally means old friends) is he affable, 
or even approachable. There were not 
Hollywood who mourned when 
do's skyrocketing career began to 
spiral downward during the Sixties with 
films like The Appaloosa and Morituri. 
Nor is there any noticeable rejoicing now 
that the spiral has reversed itself. Holly- 
wood is still a fairly ingrown community, 
and gratuitous slights—such as sending 
an unknown Indian actress to reject his 
Oscar for The Godfather—are neither 
readily excused nor quickly forgotten. 
Besides, Last Tango was an Italo-French 
production, and Hollywood has always 
reserved its greatest enthusiasm for home- 
grown products. 

On the other hand, if superstardom 


were simply a matter of Hollywood pop- 
ularity contests, everybodys pal Ross 
Martin—whose closest brush with fame 
has been a co-star slot in the now-defunct 
teleseries The Wild Wild West—would 
be a big name today. The big stars at any 
time are those who kindle the audience's 
enthusiasm and curiosity—the ones 
whose faces recur month after month in 
the national weeklies, night after night 
on the television talk shows. They are 
there because the media sense the pub. 
lic’s interest and cater to it for their own 
selfish purposes—greater newsstand sales 
or a bigger piece of the Nielsen ratings 
(with advertising rates in both instances 
pegged to the cost per thousand). While 
it's true that the public can be manipu 
lated to a degree—that a canny publicity 
campaign can on occasion create a star— 
not only are the costs prohibitive but the 
staying power is nil. The really big star is 
the one who hires a publicity man to 
keep his name out of the papers and 
fights off the talk-show invi 

By these standards, 1973 was Brando's 
year. Though he's pushing 50—the hair 
line receding, the hair itself graying, the 
jowls sagging just a bit, the once-hard 
body sagging even more—Brando re- 
mains nevertheless a figure of tremen- 
dous authority and power. His portrait 
ot the aging Don Corleone in The God- 
father re-established him as an actor 
without peer (even though he had to go 
through the humiliating ritual of a 
screen test to obtain the role); and while 
the critics weren't quite so unanimous in 
their assessment of his performance as 
Paul, che American expatriate in Last 
Tango, there was no denying his undi- 
minished sexuality. Especially when, in 
the film's penultimate sequence at the 
tango palace, he steps out onto the floor 
as slick and svelte and smoldering as if he 
were still playing Sky Masterson in Guys 
and Dolls. |t was just a flash of the 
mighty Marlon that was; but it was more 
than enough to make his onceardent 
fans believe that the past could live 
again, that the fires had not been com- 
pletely banked. 

Rising quickly, if not to Brando's for- 
mer eminence, is blond, wiry James 
Caan, who, ironically, got his biggest 
boost as Brando's toughest boy, Sonny, in 
The Godjather. Columnist Joyce Haber 
called him “the sexies the 
world” after polling her readership. Ac- 
tually, Caan came in third, after Tom 
Jones and TV soaper (Days of Our 
Lives) hero and Playgirl centerfold 
Ryan MacDonald—but their “fan clubs 
were most perceptible,” she explained. 
Caan, a rugged nonconformist and genu- 
inely good actor, had been cli 
steadily, if imperceptibly, 
hit the big time in Lady in a Cage back 
in 1964. Although he alternated be- 
tween TV and features with remarkable 

(continued on page 214) 


fiction BY GUNTER GRASS гус just pur Maria on 
ihe express train for Bremerhaven. I don't dare linger on the 
station platform to watch her departure, Neither Maria nor I 
likes to leave the other behind this way—it is almost like making 
a sacrifice to some minor god of punctual railway timetables. 
We embraced quietly and parted company, as if only until 
tomorrow. 

Now I'm striding across the waiting room, I bump into 
somebody and apologize—too late; he's gone. I reach into an 
inside pocket and coax a single cigarette out of the pack. I 
discover that I have to buy myself some matches, Taking a deep 
drag of smoke, I pick up a newspaper, a hedge against the 
boredom of the long bus ride to come. 

‘Then I must wait while the crowd of passengers, dressed in 
their autumn clothes, slowly feeds onto the escalator. At last 
I can make my move and I stand in the file crammed between 
two damp rubber raincoats. I like to ride escalators. I sur- 
render myself to the pleasure of the cigarette and rise slowly 
upward, like its smoke. The smooth machinery of the stairs fills 
me with a sense of confidence. There's no need for conversation, 
either from above or from below. It’s as if the escalator were 
speaking to me, and my thoughts fall into order: By now, Maria 
should have reached the city limits; the train should get into 
Bremerhaven precisely on time. Given a little luck, she’s had 
no difficulties, Schulte-Vogelsang had assured us that we could 
rely completely on his preparations. And everything would go 
smoothly on the other side, too. Still, maybe it would have been 
better if we'd tried it through Switzerland? Perhaps—but every- 
body has told me how dependable Vogelsang is. He's done the 
job for lots of people, and it's never failed, they told me. So why 


that short ride up the 
moving stairs changed his life 


should Maria—who really hasn't worked with us very long—be 
the one to get stuck? 

The woman in front of me rubs her eyes and sobs through 
her nose. Probably she has just seen someone off on a train— 
but she should have come away from the platform earlier, as 
I did. The departure of a train can have more meaning than 
it’s humanly possible to bear. Maria has a window seat. 

I look behind me and I sce hats—a long row of them. People 
are crowded at the foot of the escalator and, from where I 
stand, they are only a collection of hats, scarves, various head- 
gear. It does me good not to have to look at the individual 
prints of human faces—that's why I don't want to look upward 
to the top of the escalator. But eventually I must turn. 

I shouldn't have. Up there, where the hard rubber steps level 
out and are swallowed back into the mechanism, where, neck 
after neck, hat after hat, all move off and disperse—up there 
stand two men. I have no doubt that their earnest, quiet sur- 
veillance is meant for me alone. 

I can't imagine myself turning around again, let alone push- 
ing my way back down the stairs against the oncoming line of 
hats. This funny sense of security, this seductive feeling that as 
long as you live here on this step, you are alive. As long as there 
is somebody breathing right in front of you and somebody 
breathing right behind you, no one can thrust in between. 

The two men call me by name. They show me their identi 
fication. Smiling, they assure me that Maria’s train will get to 
Bremerhaven on time. There will be other gentlemen there to 
meet her—though they certainly won't be waiting with flowers. 

How fitting it is that I've just finished my cigarette. I follow 
these men. 

—Translated by Tim Nater and Robie Macauley a 


ILLUSTRATION BY ROBERT TALLON 


213 


PLAYBOY 


SEX STARS OF 1973 


consistency, his big problem was that no 
role came along that separated him from a 
dozen or more other good-looking guys 
who also played heavies. Critics began 
noticing him in offbeat films such as 
Games and The Rain People—but critics 
were practically the only people who saw 
them. The turning point came when—re- 
luctantly—Caan went back to television 
alter two years’ abstention to play Brian 
Piccolo in the ABC Movie of the Week 
Brian's Song. It gamered top notices, big 
ratings and numerous reruns. For Caan, 
it also meant a return to the big screen — 
first as the tough romantic lead opposite 
Candice Bergen in T. R. Baskin, imme- 
diately thereafter in the plum role of 
Sonny in The Godfather—directed by 
Francs Ford Coppola, who had also 
done The Rain People. Since then Саап 
made the zany comedy Slither, another 
comedy, Freebie and ihe Bean (with 
Alan Arkin); and before the year is out, 
Cinderella Liberty, in which he co-stars 
with Eli Wallach, will be released. 

Caan wears his faded blue denims al- 
most as a uniform—a uniform against 
the uniformity he despises. Both physi- 
cally and temperamentally, he is in the 
tradition of Brando, James Dean, Paul 
Newman and precious few others who 
have chosen to live their own lives in 
their own way—and to hell with the stu- 
dios. Caan, whose great hobby is rodeo, 
admits that he is constantly broke—and 
he doesn’t really care. "I own my own 
car, some clothes and two beds—the leg 
of one is broke, I think—and a lot of 
footballs and baseballs.” Born in Sunny- 
side, Long Island, 34 years ago, Caan went 
to Michigan State University on an ath- 
letic scholarship, majoring in baseball 
and prelaw. Later, he switched to basket- 
ball and drama at Hofstra, which led to 
the famed Neighborhood Playhouse and 
some off-Broadway roles, followed by a 
Broadway debut in Blood, Sweat and 
Stanley Poole, starring Peter Fonda. He 
married at 21. ("She's beautiful, and 
she's remarried, thank God," is his sum- 
mary of that interlude.) For the past few 
years, he has been consoling himself with 
1969 вилувоу Playmate of the Year Con- 
nie Kreski and making no bones about it. 

Also placing high on the Haber poll 
was Robert Redford, who has managed 
his career with greater care—and intelli- 
gence—than any other top star, male or 
female, in the film colony. Notoriously 
choosy of his roles, Redford can swing 
easily from comedy to drama to adven- 
ture. After his critical acclaim in Jere- 
miah Johnson, he opted for the role of 
the WASPish Hollywood writer in Arthur 
Laurents controversial The Way We 
Were, a tale of Hollywood in the dark 
days of the black list, with Barbra Strei- 
sand as his militant costar; then reunit- 
ed with his Butch Cassidy pal, Paul 


214 Newman, for The Sting. From there, he 


(continued from page 212) 


went into Paramount's much-touted ver- 
sion of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great 
Gatsby, with Mia Farrow ultimately ac- 
quiring the role originally scheduled for 
Ali MacGraw, former wife of Paramount 
executive Robert Evans. Between pic- 
tures, Redford simply retires with his 
wife and children to his triple-A-frame 
home on a mountaintop in Utah, looking 
after the year-round sports resort called 
Sundance that he has developed outside 
Provo. 

Among the other major male sex stars 
who have lost none of their allure in 1973 
is the exuberant Ryan O'Neal—particu- 
larly now that he has finally, and officially, 
untied the knot that bound him to Leigh 
Taylor Young. The Thief Who Came to 
Dinner was hardly helpful; but Paper 
Moon, which he co-starred with 
Tatum, his talented nine-year-old daugh- 
ter (by a previous marriage), certainly 
placed his zooming career back in full 
orbit. At the moment, he is in England 
for the title role in Stanley Kubrick's 
next picture, Barry Lyndon, a period 
piece. Considering how Kubrick works, 
the moment is apt to be a protracted one, 
although with Ursula Andress on hand 
(offstage), it shouldn't be too burden- 
some. Even more prolific in 1973 was the 
talented George Segal, an actor of con- 
siderable range who seems to have 
discovered his flair for comedy only re- 
cently. Blume in Love caught ucatly and 
perceptively the stresses of a man who 
still loves his ex-wife, even though she 
has left him after finding him flagrante 
delicto with his black receptionist— 
and no small part of the film's humor 
derives from the fact that he rather likes 
the guitar.twanging layabout (Kris Kris: 
tofferson) his erstwhile spouse shacks up 
with. In A Touch of Class, one of the 
year's wilder comedies, Segal was in top 
form again as a philandering husband 
who takes up with the strong-minded 
Glenda Jackson. By contras, his own 
marriage to Marion Sobol has been one 
of Hollywood's longer and happier case 
histories. Before 1973 has bowed out, 
Segal should be visible again in Michael 
Crichton’s Terminal Man, this time op- 
posite Joan Hackett. 

Rounding out the frontrunners among 
the male sex stars of 1978 is the dark, 
saturnine Al Pacino, whose perform- 
ance as The Godfather's reluctant heir 
apparent not only rushed him to the top 
but brought him an Academy nomina- 
tion and an immediate flood of film 
offers. Alter careful picking and choos- 
ing. Pacino opted for Jerry Schatzberg's 
offbeat and inventive Scarecrow, in which 
he played a simpleminded exsailor 
opposite Gene Hackman's even more 
simple-minded ex-con. A kind of Mid- 
night Cowboy of the open road, the film 
reinforced the critics’ high opinion of 
Pacino's talents and gave audiences a 


character with whom they could more 
readily sympathize than the nascent 
capo. He will be seen again toward the 
end of the year in the New York-based 
Serpico, taken from the Peter Maas book, 
by wl time he should be well into the 
production of The Godfather, Part 11. 
Meanwhile, on the romantic side, Pacino 
has switched partners, having dropped his 
girlfriend of record, beauteous Jill Clay- 
burgh, soon after the release of The God. 
father. Now if he is seen anywhere 
(which isn't often), it's generally with 

the talented, mercurial Tuesday Weld. 
Perhaps a distinction should be drawn 
here between the major star, male, and 
the major sex star, male. There may be as 
many as a dozen top stars—the names of 
Kirk Douglas, Charlton Heston, Gregory 
Peck and George C. Scott spring imme- 
diately to mind—who have established 
themselves as reliable and effective per- 
formers, with that added industry plus of 
being eminently bankable: Money is gen- 
erally available for pictures to which 
their names are attached. While at one 
time or another they all may have been 
sex stars as well, age and familiarity have 
long since removed the bloom. Just this 
year, for cxample, the versatile and amia- 
ble Jack Lemmon, for the past decade 
the studios’ first choice for light-comedy 
romances, seems to have crossed the 
point of no return with films like Avan- 
ti! and, especially, Save the Tiger. The 
y is still there, with Save the Tiger 
'obably his best performance ever; but 
that added flip of sexuality that riveted 
attention on him in a subsidiary role in 
Mister Roberts, and in such subsequent 
entertainments as Some Like It Hot, The 
Apartment and Irma la Douce, has grad- 
ually faded. From here on, it would 
seem, whatever excitement he gives off 

will have to be generated by the script. 
And then there are some major stars 
whose popularity was never predicated 
‘on sex appeal but on the power and the 
conviction that they brought to their as- 
sorted roles. Ernest Borgnine, for exam- 
ple, with his beetle brows and beer barrel 
build, can never completely erase the J. 
Filthy McNasty image—and, indeed, 
attempted to do so only once, some 20 
years ago, in Marty. But rather than wait 
around for another Marty, Borgnine has 
wisely concentrated on the kind of vil 
lainy he does best, such as his portrayal of 
the sadistic train conductor known as 
Shack in this years Emperor of the 
North. (Even when Borgnine plays a 
married man, as he did with Stella Ste- 
vens in the highly successful Poseidon 
Adventure, there is the implication that 
his sex life is more rigorous than roman- 
tic) Peter Boyle and Warren Oates, two 
ly rising and expert performers, 
givc off the same unwholesome vibes. 
Gene Hackman, Borgnine's costar in 
Poseidon and Al Pacino's partner in 
Scarecrow. sets off no sensual tremors 
(continued on page 291) 


RUBBER TITTIES (continued) 


clear to me. I am told it is because models cost 
а lot 1055 in Vegas. Although this is not а logi- 
cally satisfying answer to my question, I am 
ager as the next guy to get a free trip som 
where, and 1 drop my counterproductive line 
of questioning. 

$0, one balmy day in August 1972, with the 
temperature standing pat at 110 degrees, inside 
a warehouse that is supposed to be air condi- 
tioned but isn't, I am lying on this carpet, 
intertwined with these 25 naked people for two 
successive afternoons, all of us perspiring freely 
‘onto one another's bodies; and, although it is 
probably even hotter than 110 degrees down on 
the carpet, what with the lights and the close 
proximity of all ihat warm flesh, it is not really 
such a terrible way to kill a couple of days. 

What you do when you are lying intertwined 
h a lot of naked people on a carpet, while 
1 director and a photographer on an over- 
head balcony keep calling out minor adjust- 
ments in position ("OK now, Greenburg, you 
put your left hand on the right breast of the 


w 


girl on your left, and . 
talking. 

Here is the first actual conversation I had 
with one of my co-models, a young woman with 
enormous breasts, the right one of which I was 
holding, as instructed, with my left hand. The 
young lady asked me what this photo was going 
to be used for and I said, "Oh, it's for this arti- 
cle I wrote about this orgy I went to” The 
young lady didn't seem to be perceptibly im- 
id. "I suppose you've been to 
quite a few orgies yourself, have you?” 

“I don't know,” she said, “does four people 
count?” I said 1 thought it probably counted. 
She seemed relieved. “Oh, well,” she said, “then 
I guess I've been to orgies. In fact, I guess I've 
st about every way you can do it with 
four people. I've done it with two men and two 
women, I've done it with three men and me, 
I've done it with three women and me” 

“Tell me about three women and you," I 


, is that you get to 


"Well," she said, "first we dropped acid, of 
course. Then we gave cach other baths. We 


TOWN SO TOUGH (continued) 


disrespectful to her and also to the act onstage. 
She liked to say that she stood in awe of talent. 
Not that she had been struck dumb by any of 
the talent she had met in her season in the line 
at the Tropicana, There had been a comic in 
the lounge who had promised to marry her and 
after she had driven to Nogales and had the 
abortion, she discovered that the comic already 
had wives in both Pittsburgh and St. Louis. 
The trip to Nogales had cost her the job in the 
line at the Tropicana, because she had started 
to hemorrhage and had to stay in bed for a cou- 
ple of weeks and when she got back to Vegas, 
the job was gone. In the past, she had occasion- 
ally spent weekends with people in on a junket 
when she needed money, so she free-lanced 
along the Strip for a while until the new Lido 
de Paris revue started holding auditions. The 
creator of the revue had once told her that she 
had the best nipples on the Strip, perky even 
when she was not getting laid, whereas most of 
the girls in the line had to rub ice cubes on 
their nipples to get them up before a show. 


Maisy Morgan was sure her nipples would 
get her a job in the Lido de Paris revue, but 
then one morning she noticed a lump on her 
left breast and two weeks later, she had a 
mastectomy. 

Maisy Morgan never thought much about 
having one breast, although sometimes when 
she was drunk, she said she thought it was 
“freaky.” She was 26 years old when she had 
the mastectomy and her condition was con- 
ducive neither to working in a line nor to free- 
lancing. Whenever someone wanted to ball her, 
Maisy Morgan would carefully tell him that 
he was getting only half of what he expected 
up top and if that did not bother him, she 
would be honored to go to bed with him, In 
matters sexual, Maisy Morgan always affected 
a rococo speaking style. It was (his manner of 
specch that had first attracted Dominick Di- 
Cicco, that and the fact, as he told Maisy 
Morgan later, that “fucking a girl with one 
tit a first for old Dom.” Dominick DiCicco 
was Maisy Morgan's second husband and she 
had not seen him in three years. Maisy Morgan 


DESIGNED BY TOM STAEBLER / PHDTOGRAPHID BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


“Just think, right now Momma is probably baking Christmas cookies, 
Poppa’s putting up the tree, the twins are busy stringing popcorn 
and little Jimmy is trying to stay awake so he can see Santa Claus.” 


219 


TWO RUBBER TITTIES к. 


set each other's hair, we did cach other's mails, we 

“Did you have any sex?” 1 asked. 

“Oh, yeah, we all went down on cach other,” she said. "You 
have to understand—our lives here in Vegas are kind of weird. 
I mean, we all see each other so much, we've used up all the 
normal stulf and we've gotten sort of kinky. To me, the kinky 
has become the commonplace. You know the kinkiest thing I 
could think of doing right now?" 
^ T asked 
straight, one-to-one relationship with а man,” 


PLAYBOY 


rd, 
d what it was like to 
Vegas showgirl. I wondered what it was like to be that 
beautiful, that sexy, that bored, that kinky. I wondered what 
it was that had pulled these girls to Vegas, to work nude or 
seminude on a stage six or seven nights a week, two or three 
shows а night, I wondered if they ever fell in love or got mar- 
ried or had kids. I wondered what they wanted out of life and 
I wondered how different their goals were from mine and from 
the other ordinary humdrum clothed folks I knew in New York 

I decided to find out. Early last January, E found myself 
back in Vegas. 


When I step off the plane from New York late in the alter- 
noon, I find it is not 110 degrees: its about 30 degrees 
snowing. I walk past a long line of slot machines, which seves 
of my overcager fellow passengers stop to play. I claim my 
baggage, linger briefly before the counter of SAVEMOR RENA: 
CAR With its THINK PINK signs and its four hostesses clad in pink 
hotpants, pink sweaters, pink Dynel wi nd I decide in 
favor of a cab. 

I check into Ca gure if you're doing an article 
on Taste City, you might as well live right in the red-hot cen- 
ter ol the quintessential Vegas taste. 

Caesars Palace, you will not be too sumned to hear, is 
themed in a Roman motif: Roman columns flank the phone 
booths in the lobby; Roman columns support the slot machines 
n the casino; Roman columns serve as bases for the lamps in 
your room, your TV set, and so on. The lady keno runners, 
who enable you to keep betting en things right through meals 
and other annoyances, wear minitogas. Ihe men's and ladies" 
rooms are labeled carsars and cieoparaas. The snack shop is 
called The Noshorium. The card that hangs on the knob out 

ide your room says ро Nor DISTURRUS. Almost everything in 

the hotel that I have failed to mention has а small plaque at- 

hed to it with a message in pseudo-Roman lettering that 
about the function of whatever 
aesan,” etc, My 
my room, which reads: 
list thc following local television. channels for your 
ng pleasure. . . ." 

The first showgirl I look up once I am settled is опе I'd met 
at the photo session that August. Her name is Janet. Janet is 
ge. very good-looking, very well-built her 20s. She 
stands just under six [ect without shoes; when she wears stacked 
heels, you sort of shout up to her. Whatever color her hair is 
now is not the color it was the last 

Janet told me two things in August that I loved a lot. The 
first was that she had been painted by “the foremost nude 
painter in the world,” a person who turned out to be named 
Julian Ritter, 

“When 1 wi g cditor of Eros magazine some years 
back," 1 said, d extensive dealings with another well- 
known painter by the name of Salvador Dali. Have you сусг 
heard of him? 


" she said, “I was his date at Versaille 
id, my crude attempt at name-dropping instantly 
“Tell me, what was it like. being the date of 
ata place like Ve ; 


outclassed. 
220 vador Dal 


es?” ^ (continued on page 


TOWN SO TOUGH onina 


had married for the fist time when she was 15 and seven 
months pregnant. Her first husband's name was Eugene Pruitt 
1 Eugene had not been inclined to marry Maisy when she 
told him that she had missed three months in a row. Eugene 
Pruitt was the high scorer on the Green City, Oklahoma, high 
school basketball team, which in 1957 had gone to the semi- 
finals in the Class B state tournament. Even today. Maisy 
Morgan would recall, there was still a faded sign on the out- 
skirts of Green City that had been crected by the chamber of 
commerce and that said, WELCOME TO GREEN CITY, HOME OF THE 
GREEN HORNETS, 1957 CLASS B SEMIFINALISTS, OKLAHOMA INTER- 
SCHOLASTIC BASKETBALL TOURNEY. 

Eugene Pruitt had been able to persuade the four other 
Green Hornet starters, plus two substitutes, that they all had 
had a wha id was nor 


promise of a half interest in his Phillips 66 station—that plus 
the vow to break Eugene Pruitt's legs with a tir 
not do so. Maisy and Eugene were married 
Oklahoma, in March of 1957 with Maisy’s father 
Two days after the wedding, Eugene Pruitt left and 
enlisted in the United States Marine Corps. Maisy Morgan. 
son was born in St. Augustine's Hospital in Tulsa and she 
named him Ralph, alter her father. Ihe child had six toes 
on cach foot and only one arm and died four days after birth. 
Maisy called it a bl She never told Eugene Pruitt of 
either the birth or the death of her son, although she w 
reasonably sure that he was the father. Eugene Pruitt neve 
returned to Green City, Oklahoma. 

Now that she was 31 and had only one breast and was a 
practicing graphologist. Maisy Morgan was less interested i 
Forrest Duke than in Dr. Alvarez and Ann Landers. Every 
morning between 9 and 11, she would saturate her Nescafe 
with Coflee-mate and saccharin and settle down to see what 
Dr. Alvarez had to say about Pap smears. Maisy Morgan had a 
every six months and her gynecologist, who attended 
me female acts on the nly be i 
philanthropy in dispensing reds, had told her she 
to worry about. But Maisys absent breast often itched and the 
i would make her th artholin cysts and she would 
scour Dr. Alvarez to see what he had to say about vaginal 
disorders. Maisy no longer used a contraceptive, because she 
was convinced that the mastectomy protected her [rom ever 
n becoming pregnant. She readily admitted that this was 
a superstition without much basis in medical fact, but shi 
“H you had had a kid with six toes on each foot, then I gu 
you'd be superstitious, too." 

I readily agreed that 1 would be superstitious, too. It was 
nearly five in the morning and Maisy Morgan and I were sitting 
in the collec shop at Caesars Palace. I was constantly amazed in 
the months that I was in Vegas by the encounter-group atmos- 
phere prevailing in the bars and collec shops of the casinos 
during the hour or two belore dawn. Here in this anteroom ol 
purgatory was a constituency of the emotionally dispossessed. 
Tt was as if the end were at hand and there were only one priest 
to hear all the confessions. 

The first thing that Maisy Morgan had said about my hand- 
writing was that I had “original ideas.” I am sure that the 
reason she had said this was that she could not decipher my 
signature and had asked me to write down something longer 
something ihat would give her more opportunity to decode the 
swirls and pressure points of my script. 1 was pretentious 
enough to jot down a few lines from Yeats: 


O love is the crooked thing, 
There is nobody wise enough 
To find out all that is in it 


ille, 


"You have such original ideas," Ma 
was not altogether sure whether she 


y Morgan had said. I 
(continued on page 310) 


A PLAYBOY PAD: 


, TEXAS 
p TIME. 


‚MACHINE 


three wildly innovative 
young designers create a 
"lunar module" retreat 


Above: At home in its setting 
a peaceful, private lake neor 
a large Texas city—the house 


exemplifies the organic forms 


made possible by the use of 
reinforced cement. Left: The 
raund windows are placed so 
as tc filter the intense sunlight. 


к CONGRATULATE the ant 
for his industry, tough- 
ness and organization. 


we also fear him, since he seems 

ready to take over the world 

whenever we decide to abdi- 

cate. A band of cultural gucr- 
Y rillas who call themselves the 
Ant Farm—they include pl 
losophers. inventors a 
makers —resemble thei 
sake in those attributes. Thr 
retreat of reinforced cement, 
on a private lake in Texas, 
is the creation of Ant Farmers 
Richard Jost, Chip Lord and 
Doug Michels—architects all 
“The House of the Century 
idit 


is its title, 


to the unpredictably curvilin 
design (which recalls the 
mastic churches. parks and 


houses built by the Spanish 
surrealist Antoni Gaudi). The 
iure is formed by the 221 


DINING AREA 


MASTER BEDROOM 


SLEEPING 
PLATFORM 


GUEST BEDROOM 


Top left: A poir of tall Texuro 
pouse at the entrance—o long, 
well-lit tube of Plexiglas and 
steel, whimsically adorned with a 
tractor seat (above). The cutawoy 
drawing at left emphasizes the 
free-farm approach token by the 
architects, Richard Jost, Chip 
Lord ond Daug Michels—oll 
members of Ant Form, a cultural 
commando group. There ore na 
squares, no rectangles ond na 
real circles, either—just the 
graceful, mobile forms thet 
nature itself fayors. The tower 
is visible from the wings, which, 
turn, are visible fram 

the bedrooms in the tower. 


convolutions of the inner shell, 
which is molded of Plexiglas 
and laminated. wood, hand- 
ted, brilliantly colored and 
nged around a central 
aircase. Ihe functions of the 
house are concentrated in the 
tower; the work and play 
areas, in the two bulbous 
wings, sport a futuristic array 
of gadgets (a TV, for instance, 
is set right into the kitchen 
sink). A small moat, with alg 
and some baby crocodiles, en- 
circles the interior. Entrance 


Top: That object in the center, 
overhung by the upholstered arch 
of the ceiling, is the kitchen 
sink. It's made of hendcrofted, 
laminated wood. The some 
material wos used to make the 
sunken fireplace arec ond 

the dining-room table, which is 
le to the right. Above; A 
head-on view of the fireplace. 
Right; Illuminated by windows 
that resemble phosphenes—the 
lights you see when you press on 
your closed eyelids—a couple 
relaxes in the living room. 


Above: The dining erea—in use. 
The sink, visible to the left, hos. 

a TV set mounted on it; that, plus 
the view through the window, 
makes dish doing less tedious 
than usual. Left: The bedroom 
surfaces ore uphoistered in 
vinyl, for reasons both acoustic 
and decorative; access is by 
means of the ladder. The bed, 
like the dining and kitchen 
facilities, is built in. Far left 
The bathtub is also made of 
lominated wood; the pipes are 
transparent, making the flow of 
water visible. Opposite page: A 
time machine on a moonlit night, 


to The House of the Century 
is through a tube of steel and 
no-glare Plexiglas, illuminated. 
from below. If that all sounds 
like it was conceived while 
somebody was on a trip—well. 
that’s how the dropout archi- 
tects say they got their inspira- 
tion. Bur these guys know whit 
they're doing; Jost, Lord and 
Michels not only designed the 
place, they did most of the 
Tabor themselves. As one guest 
observed, "It just goes to 
show what architects can. do 


when they have по hang-ups 
about form.” Or anything else. 


226 


the monk who wouldn't lie down 


xr Far TIME, Guillaume the money-changer went to Provins 
and bought 80 pounds of fine provisions on behalf of several 
neighbors. But, after he had left Amiens on his way back. he 
passed through a forest, where robbers were lying in wait. 
When they saw Guillaume, they rode at him from all direc- 
tions, knocked him from his horse and stole his money belt. 
Then the thieves turned their attention to killing his servant 
and Guillaume was able to escape on foot. 

He was a generous man and an honest one, so that when 
the neighbors came to the market and angrily demanded pa 
ment for the lost goods. he said, “Don’t be angry. І have thre 
grain mills that mill flour; take them and their profit until 1 
am able to pay you back in full.” Then he went home to his 
wife, Ydoine, that fair and courteous lady, and said, “Our 
Lord has willed that my servant die and that the goods be lost. 
I do not know what to say, but perhaps He will give us His 
counsel.” 

"Ehe next day, Ydoine went to the abbey church, lit a candle 
and put it on the altar and began to pray for a sign from God. 
The sacristan, who had long lusted after her, watched from 
the shadows. Then he slipped up very close and whispered a 
greeting. Ydoine, intent on her purpose, showed no embar. 
rassment, nor did she move away. Emboldened at that, the 
monk murmured, “Lady, 1 have admired you for four years 
and nothing would give me greater joy than to take you in a 
secret bed. Come, what would you have? I am the treasurer 
here. One can buy many fine things with a hundred pounds.” 

Ydoine thought, "Can this be our Lord's answer? Does He 
some mysterious purpose in sending us a hundred 
pounds in this strange fashion?" She felt the sacristan's arm 
around her, his hand caressing her belly and a kiss forced 
upon her lips 

She drew back and said, “Good sir, you should not n 
love in church. Let me go home and 
about your offer.” 
Now, that is ar 
Don't be afraid, I shall put 
such a way that he will not see the whole truth." Then the 
sacristan smiled and gave her an alms purse with ten sous in 

She gladly took this, because there was no food in her 
house. 

When she returned home, she said to Guillaume, “My dear, 
for God's sake, do not be angry at the secret 1 am going to tell 
you"—and then she related the whole tale of the monk's 
offer. Her husband laughed bitterly and said that he would 


ake 
sk my husband's advice 


to him in 


from Le Moine Segretain, a 12th Century French fabliau 


rather die of hunger in a ditch than allow any other man to 
make carnal love to her. 

“I think that we must accept.” said Ydoine. 

Now, that is amazing!” cried Guillaume. 

“No—it may simply be God's way of answering my prayer 
and teaching the mouk a lesson at the same time. God intends 
thar we should trick him.” Then Guillaume listened as she 
unfolded her plan. 

‘The next day, she dressed, put on a silk wimple and went to 
the church, where she breathed an invitation to the monk. 
пеп she went home and prepared a good repast. Ihe sacris- 
tan, for his part, loaded his money belt with 100 pounds 
purloined from the church offerings. After he had entered 
illaume’s door. he dropped it onto the floor with a clink 
and Ydoine picked it up and locked it away in a cupboard. 

Then. when they had eaten. the sacristan was so tormented 
by her gentle beauty that he was in a rage to solace her be- 
tween her legs, then and there, on the floor in front of the 
fire. But Ydoine protested, "For shame! Carry me into my 
chamber.” But when the monk had done so and had thrown 
Ydoine onto the hed, Guillaume rose up with a shout and 
struck the monk with a club. He'd meant to stun the fellow, 
no more, but when the monk rushed at him furiously, Gui 

me gave him a harder blow that quite scrambled his brains, 
The monk fell down dead and Ydoine, seeing that, began 
to lament: “Oh, cursed day! Oh, unhappy wretch! Guillaume, 
why did you do it? 

“Quickly,” said her husband, “give me a doth to bind up 
his head and also one of the large grain sacks.” With the monk 
in his sack, Guillaume entered the postern gate into the abbey 
grounds and went to the jakes. There he removed the sac 
the monk on one of the privy seats and put a clutch of hay in 
his fist. Then he went home to soothe his wife. 

A little later, the prior of the abbey. having eaten too much 
pigeon pie, was seized with the gripes and hurried to the privy. 
He stopped short when he saw the sacristan, his enemy, sitting 
there. “Wake up. Sir Bowels.” he said, “this is a vile place to 
sleep,” and he took him by the arm. But when the body keeled 
over, the prior saw that the man was dead and he began to 
fear that the abbot would accuse him of murder. Prior and 
sacristan had quarreled just the day before. 

Luckily, he saw that someone had left a large grain sack i 
the corner and so the prior, stuffing the body into it, had the 
notion of depositing it at the door of the millowner, as if it 
were a sack of grain waiting to be taken for grinding. 


"Thus it was that Guillaume and Ydoine, lying in bed and. 
comforting each other sweetly, heard a thump at their door. 
When Guillaume ran down to open it, the monk’s body fell 
out of the sack and across the threshold. Ydoine, who had 
come all naked to learn what Ше trouble was, seamed. “It is 
the sacristan!” she said. “The Devil has given him legs to walk 
here, even though he’s dead! 

Guillaume groaned and replied, “Bring me my clothes and 
then help me with this grain sack.” This time, he bound the 
mouth of the sack with à rope. Ydoine, who could both read. 
and write very well, wrote the name of God on a paper and 
pinned it to the sack. Guillaume gladly trusted. that it 
would keep the Devil his distance this time. 

He carried the sack through the town and tried to think of 
a hiding place. Then he remembered Sir Tibour's dung heap. 
Now, Sir Tibout was the prosperous farmer who took care of 
the abbey's wheat fields. He had a big house, cattle, pigs and 
a pot full of gold coins buried under his hearthstone. In his 
storcroom were hung from the beams several fine flitches of 
bacon. Just the day belore, Guarnot, a thief, had broken into 
the room and had stolen a flitch, but, running through the 
barnyard, he had heard the dogs barking and had been fright- 
ened. He'd quickly buried the bacon in the dung heap, in- 
tending to come back for it when there was less risk 

What's this, by the Baron Saint Lot,” Guillaume 
himself, “another black monk?" Then he dug a little decper 
and uncovered the fine flitch of bacon. “It's truly the grace of 
God!" he exclaimed. “Just as my dear and gentle wife has 
said, He is sending His bounty in answer to our prayers." He 
put the monk in the hole and covered him with the dung. 

When Ydoine saw her husband come in with a great, b 
burden, she cried out, “You have brought him back again! 

Not at all,” said Guillaume. 
and meat; now go and find some 

In the meantime, the thief was gambling and drinking wine 
with his friends in a tavern, "My lords, I am hungry,” one of 
them said. 1 wish we had some meat to cook.” 

“Why, it so happens that I know where to fi 
of bacon,” said the thief, "and СШ gladly fetch it.” So off he 
went to the dung heap and began to scrabble into the hiding 
place. Without looking very closely in the hal£dark, he seized 
the sack and ran back to the tavern, where he dropped it in 
the kitchen and called for Gortoise, thc kitchen maid, to build 
a fire and to cook some meat for the companions. Then he 
went back to fill his wine cup and await the supper. 


‘od has sent us both money 


id a good side 


Ribald Classic 


“By Saint Leonard.” Cortoise called from the kitchen, “this 
в very tough meat, Your pig is wearing shoes!” Then all of 
the drinkers, crowding into the kitchen, were astonished to 
sce the dead monk, 

“Why did you kill the sacristan and tell us he was a pig?” 
asked the innkeeper. 
ire," said the thief in terror, crossing himself many times, 
stole a pig, but the Devil has disguised it as a dead monk.” 

"Out of my house!” roared the innkeeper. "Go back and 
hang this Devil's meat where you found it." And so the thief, 
in a great sweat, carried the sack to Sir Tibout's, made his 
way into the storeroom through a window and tied the sack 
to the beam where the bacon fitch J hung. 

By this time, the sun was coming up and Sir Tibout's wife 
stirred in bed. "Get up,” she said to her husband, "it's time to 
make breakfast. While I light the fire, you go to the storcroom 
and cut some slices of bacon 
Lam tired and I don't fecl well,” groaned Sir Tibout. 
"Then get Martin to help you,” said his wife, kicking him 
in the leg. 

So it was when Sir Tibout and his servant laid hold of the 
sack dangling from the beam, the cord broke and down fell 
the sack and out sprawled the sacristan, all pale and ghastly. 

"Now Lam dead!" said the farmer. “Someone has killed th 
monk and ha placed the blame on me. I'll be hanged from 
the gallows tree.” 

"Well," said Martin, “it hasn't come to that, sire. There's 
still a way of mending things, if you'll only be calm and listen 
Thave a thought." 

So Martin went to catch a Stray colt in the field. Together 
they tied the monk onto its back with a stout stick to prop him 
up and a longer stick tied to the monk's arm. On the monk's 
head they put a clay pot. Then Martin led the colt to the 

bbey and opened the gate to the courtyard. 

Help! Help!” he shouted. “The sacristan has gone mad 
and thinks he is a knight!" The sleepers awoke and rushed to 
their windows. Martin gave the colt a great thump on its 
crupper and everyone saw the sacristan, couching his wooden 
lance, gallop wildly across the courtyard and into the kitchen, 
from whence there soon came a huge crashing of pots, bowls, 
mortars, plates and platters. 

But Guillaume and Ydoine, behind the shutters of their 
chamber, sweetly wrapped in cach other's arms, did not 
know or care where the wandering monk had fimally 
come to rest. —Retold by Robert Mahieu Ё 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY BRAD HOLLAND 


227 


a sample of the earlier works 
of some of our best writers proves 
art’s nice but a man has to eat 


BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAM 


The first time I saw her I was on a nails and that evened us up a little. We was not my friend's first fistic encounter, 
house floor with my shirt off, pushing had been brawling for about Z0 minutes, thc nails must have confused him. Not 
fistful of threeinch nails into Oat's getting nowhere, until I thought of the exactly a doubledome thinker, he lay 
сє. He was a big guy who had me on mails and then it So long, Charlie" there, trying to figure out his next move, 
ght, had me on size, was probably for’my congenial warehouse colleague. I looking like a big beached tuna, while 1 
stronger than me, too. But I had those got them into his face and although this gotsome muscle behind that steel bouquet 
от “Warchouse Girl,” Stag magazine, January 1964, Соруп, 
Magazines, Incorporated, originally published under the by-line Jack Vance. 


KURT VONNEGUT, JR. 


стару, NEW york, January 3—Powerful atom smashers, special motors 
to drive a supersonic wind tunnel, and calculating machines for solving in minutes 
problems ordinarily requiring months were among the accomplishments of General 
Electric engineers during 1949, according to a summary released by the company 
here today. 

Listed among the ye ing highlights were such new developments as 
à gauge that measures the thickness of sheet materials with radioactivity; apparatus 
for testing parachutes for bailouts at 500 miles per hour: a radiation detector with a 
long, gu allike probe for testing for radioactivity from a safe dis 
ment which can distinguish between more colors of light than there are grains of 
wheat in Kansas; and a repeating photoflash tube that can be used thousands of times 
before having to be replaced. . 

In cooperation with the Wilson Sporting Goods Company. of Chicago. Illinois, 
engincers designed an Xray lluoroscope to demonstrate the shape and location of the 


SCH 


JOAN DIDION 


I once knew a young woman, both 
beautiful and gifted. made incoherent 
by an affair between her estranged (by 
quite mutual agreement) husband, 
whose roving eye had years before 
achieved the approximate notoriety of 
Calvin Coolidge’s taciturnity, and а rath- 
cr frumpy Smith girl who tended to 
regard Doctor Zhivago., [or that was 
the усаг, as the last, best lowering of 
imaginative literature and to approve 
most suggestions put to her with a 
straightforward "Temifc" or the more 
complex "Sounds divinc. 


cores in various golf balls. The unit is mounted in a station. wagon, and will make 
periodic touts of the. 


WEIL SIMON 


rAPARELLI: Gee, Sarge, I hope the girls 
goodJooking. 

suko: Will you trust me. I tell you 
that number 1 found in the phone booth 
had four stars next to it. And when a 
sailor puts four stars next to a girl's 
ber that ain't for perfect attendance, 
—From “Bilko Joins the Navy" (Pro- 
gam #115), the Phil Silvers show 
“You'll Never Get Rich,” presented by 
CBS, October 31, 1958. 


сию: 1 brought you something finer 
than 


H the linen in the world. 
rv: What did you bring? 


меу. 
Katey: How is your rheumatism? 
Curis: Rheumatism! In a young coun: 
try there is no place for rheumatism! 
Don't you realize 1 have just come from 
Iking to General Washington, 
: Really? 
From 


Крестословица NO 5 


В. С. 
WE FEES GG 


© 


ona» 


© 


ration's golf courses. 
—From General Electric News Bureau News Release, January 3, 1950. 


The Cavalcade of America 


— From “Jealousy—Is И a Curable 
Iness?,” Vogue magazine, June 1961 


MARIO PUZO 


Lieutenant Stephens turned his head to kiss Anne-Marie. his | 
with the expected sweetness. The dark figure stepped 
caught in the circle of moonlight, One eye was closed, the lid with long dead lashes 
covered it like a window shade. The face had the seamed weather beaten look of a 
man who has for years suffered great physical hardship. This man waited until Anne- 
Marie pulled her head back from the kiss and Lieutenant Stephens turned to put the 
jeep into gear. Then the shadowy figure put forth his right hand. There was a tiny 
Spark of flame, a flat crack like a knuckle being snapped, and Lieutenanr Stephens, 
his body filled with desire, slumped forward. dead instantly, a long lead pellet from 
the single-shot Hu n pistol buried in his brain 

From "My Body Is My Fortune,” Male magazine, March 1961, Copyright 
Male Publishing Corporation, originally published under the byline Mario Cleri. 


ARTHUR MILLER 


And you know what he told me? 
s the bread 1 baked for him is the 
he could eat that didn't catch 
in his teeth. 

RATEY: Did he say anything about re- 
turning you the money you paid for the 
bakery wages in the Army? 

curas: No. But that doesn’t matter. He 
said to give his best wishes to you. 


art pounding 
ry close to the jeep and was 


Ludwick, he said. She is a very good 
woman to wait for you so long. 

Karey: Me? General Washington said 
that about me? 

ris: You, Katey! Only yout 

Karev: Well, 1 always said, Chris, d 
your place was in the Army. Alter all, 
it's not every man understands the bakery 
Me? business like you. Did General Washing- 
Give my best wishes to Mrs. ton say you are a brave man, Chris? 
NBC Кайо, June 22, 1942 (courtesy of Eleutherian Mills Historical Library). 


VLADIMIR NABOKOV 


8 9 
Торизоптально: (1) Ничего; (2) Часть wharo; 
(3) Bocraunanie; Простонароднан част 
Необходимый челоҥкъ къ 
Ibat; (5) Hora; ДЪло conmen ; Персидская 
монета; (6) Числительное; НарБчїе; (7) Мъстон- 
menie; Hpocrora—ponnan части 
припциповъ изетерическагоучені 


Вертикально: (1) Падачъз (2) Восклицаніе; 
Греческал буква; (3) Художественное про 
согласных: 

; (5) Pyecı 


(7) Можно пстр}ътить 
(8) Берегъ; Часть автомобиля; 
ma себл maie челон 


v» пустыпф; 
(9) Обрищаюші 


—Thiy crossword puzzle comes from the July 26, 1931 
Russian émigré newspaper published in Berlin in the 


issue of Rul’, a 
wenties and Thirties. 


229 


“Oh, you know,” she shrugged. “A lot 
of people, a lot of mi 

I will tell you the other thing that T 
heard from Janet back in August and 
then you will see why I had to look her 
up again and interview her. Jt seems that 
a few years ago, Janet’s mother, to whom 
she was extremely devoted, died of c: 
cer. A few days later, Janet went blind. 
Us insurance had somchow lapsed 
nd her first operation cost several thou- 
d dollars. Janet was in the hospital 
lor a year. during which time she had 
many costly operations. Kids in the shows 
along the St sed a lot of money for 
Janet and that helped some. Then a con- 
tributor who wished to remain anony- 
mous sent her $3000. 

Au the end of the усаг, she had an op- 
eration that completely restored her eye- 
sight. One of the first things she did 
upon leaving the hospital was try to track 
down her anonymous benefactor to 
thank him. As she turned up more and 
more people who were unwilling to tell 
her who'd sent the money, J 
frightened. Then she learned he 
factor's name and grew even more fright- 
ened: He was the boss of one of the 
biggest casinos in Vegas, a man rumored 
to be high up in the Mob. By the time 
Janet burst into his office, she was so 
d up with id fear that all 
she could do was blurt: "How dare you 
give me three thousand dol ony- 
mously—how dare you?” 

The casino boss looked coolly at the 
showgirl who had burst into his office, 
thoughtfully removed. his cigar [rom his 
mouth and pointed to a chair. 

Sit down," he said. She sat. “Sweet 
art," he said, leaning back in his large 
Jeather chair, “let me tell you something. 
Three thousand dollars to you is three 
dollars to me. Now get out of here. 
It was this story U finally hooked me 
on Las Vegas. This hardened old Mob 
guy who is such a softy that he sent three 
grand to a girl in trouble, who was so em- 
Darrassed by the sweetness of the gestur 
that he had to do it anonymously; the 
poor girl so out of her mind with fear 
that all she can do is scream at him, and 
the guy forced to belittle his own gena 
osityand do a Gagney number on her. 
After the strange B-movie confronta- 
tion, Janet got to be friends with the 
Mob guy, whose name is Max. They have 
y relationship that is unsexual, very 
father-daughterish, very loving. 
I love Max, I really do,” says Janet. 
“He really has been a father to me, much 
more than my real one. I always knew 
that if anybody hassled me, Max would 
take care of hi 
“I was ninctcen when I first came here 
10 be a showgirl,” she says. “I was very 
naive. Every so often Max would say to 
me, "Here's a little something, go buy 
230 yourself а new dress,’ and he'd peel off a 


PLAYBOY 


sa 


TWO RUBBER TITTIES „солон pae 


0) 
hundred-dollar bill. I was so stupid I 
thought he really expected me to go out 
nd spend it on a dress, so I'd po to Mag- 
nin’s and take the whole day trying to 
find a dress for exactly a hundred dol- 
Jars. Then Td put it on, go back to him 
and say. "Here it is He'd look blankly 
at me and I'd say, "The dress.’ He didn't 
know what the hell 1 was talking about. 
It took me a Jong time to realize I didn't 
have to go buy a dress when he said that. 
You know,” she says, “I'd heard that 
Мах was in the Mob, but 1 м; 
when 1 first came here I never 
lieved it. Then I happened to be reading 
The Green Felt Jungle backstage be- 
tween shows and right there on the page 
I see Max's name. I rushed into his office 
and said, "You're a gangster—you really 
are 11 just read about you i 

The Green Felt Jungle” He sat back in 
his chair and he just roared with laugh- 
Then he said, "We wined and dined 
the guy and here he goes writing trash 
like that about us. I'd always read about 
gangsters and seen them in the movies. 
and here nice old Max turns out to 
really be one.” 

net, who has been a stripper and 
nude showgirl for almost six years, has 
just started in the new Minsky's show as 
straight woman to a baggy-laced bur- 
lesque comedian named Tommy Moe 
Raft. It is her first clothed onstage job. “I 
can't stand not being nude in this show." 
she says. 

1 go to Minsky's to see Janet's show, 
which is a dinner thing, and Im seated 
at a tiny ringside table across from a 
pleasant elderly lady who tells me she 
is left-handed and her grandchildren 
are left-handed, although her children are 
right handed. This oddity is either one 
that has just struck her, or it is a story 
she dines out on. I hope for the former. 
On my right is a good-natured chap 
med Verne Berkowitz, who s me 
at I'm doing taking notes and, when 
out, insists I put his name into 
my article. OK, Verne, now wha 

When my son was a little boy,” says 
the elderly lady lefthander, “I used to 
twist the tie on the cookie bag to close it, 

nd my son, being a righty, would never 
be able to untwist it. 

Why is that?” I ask, not sure how glad 
lam to be in this conversation. 

“Well, he being a righty and all, he'd 
always be trying to twist it the opposite 
way of a lefty, and he'd j 
twisted instead of untwi 
"Mnanmn 
By the time dinner is whisked onto ou 
ny tables, I have managed to case Verne 
Berkowitz in to pinch-hit for me with the 
southpaw granny who is now, as I f 


s manifest- 
led desks 


both she and her grandchildren have I 
to put up with all through school. I gr 
ly envision myself making out my first 
check to lefty liberation. as, mercifully, 
the show begins. 

Janet is in three burlesque sketches 
with Tommy Moe Raft, a short, funny 
person whose face is precisely at Janet's 
breast level. He talks alternately to each 
breast. watch that hand,” says 
Janet as Tommy snakes a hand around 
her waist. 

"You don't have to worry about that 
5 Tommy. “Here's the hand 
you gotta worry about.” 

‘Oh, Tommy,” says Janet, “I'm too big 
a woman for you.” 

What the hell,” says Tommy, with a 
ke to the audience, “I'll make two 
trips.” I don't suppose anybody knows 
j, but the southpaw 
anny is giggling and Verne Berkowitz 
haw-hawing uncontrollably. 

“I bought a new Ford.” 

"You get a Falcon?" 

"Oh. no, I got a pretty good de: 
Verne Berkowitz is having difhculty catch- 
ng his breath and the lefty granny seems 
on the verge of a coronary occlusion. 

At the end of the show, Janet comes 
over to our table and introduce her 
around. Verne Berkowitz nearly drops 
his teeth 


think we can't see them or h 
but we can. They're our audience. We 
k about them while were dancing. 
Once two ladies were making nasty com- 
ments about the show in very loud voices. 
1 swept over them with my he: 
and knocked a wig off one of their heac 
don't mind somebody talking ring- 
side,” says a dark-haired girl named Ellie, 
ng drinks on 


swept a whole row of pl 
some woman's lap. "Then 
sorry and I never did it again. 


People think it's a one-way mirror c 
there, but it’s not,” says a girl named 
Claudette. "We see lots of things. Aud 


ences don't realize they're entertaining 
you. They're scratching and picking their 
noses and making out, and you think 10 
yourself, ‘OK, you're assholes 
going to permit you to sit out there.’ 
These women in the audience with their 
boobs in push-out bras sometimes make 
really nasty comments about our bodies 
Then, of course, they go home and take 
off their bras and their boobs fall down 
to their ankles.” 

“Once some dodgy old hooker in the 
ence wi on а chap at one of 
agside tables,” says a girl named 
a with a very upper-class British 
n our dance numbers we move 
оп counts: One, two, three, four and you 
move to the right, five, six, seven, eighr 
ad you move to the lefi—well, we just 

(continued on page 257) 


PROFUSELY /A\ ILLUSTRATED 


Its Ancillary Activitiesóa Lot of Other Things which 
Ate Hard to Puta Finger On. hy ' ARNOLD RorH 


In the beginning there was nothing— To fill the void, dinosaurs agreed to have an age. 
a whole lot of it. = SUED == 
Hithere! Tm 34 years ola 
a Me,too! 


aie ` You don't look it. 
I don't feel — 
it, either! 


Dinosaurs never performed sexual acts. 
They made do by fighting with each other. 


Ooch!Ooch! Oochchch! 
Hrgher..vochit Lower and Slower. 
1 


and Faster..ooch 


For kicks, they laid eggs, said dumb things and were dull company. 


>< т just don't know 


ltr 
> T think Lay off ү 
j ils What Kind wedi Ol what toco with 
acer) 91:99 sexist thing Were ae ^ myself anymore! 
\ tonight is that fosay? Our tails in m 


egg awready. 


Then a man named Darwin had a theory. 


soy You will take "Good! 4 
a giant Step and Id like 


You didrit sas f 


mutate into 2 Vs woo Pain "нау 
higher form. alley! 7 - 


That Darwin is full A regular "What 
of Merschibpus  Moropus ass! le brain! 


Dinosaurs weren't 
too affected 
by that news, so 
scatology was born, 
anyway. 


Dinosaurs never did discover sex and—though it Cave men and others were the next with 
was hard to tell the difference—they died off. a chance to make the BIG DISCOVERY. 


j s First т Туе. Likewise, Im sure! 
_ ever been 


stiff- 4 


1 tor: caveman,cavewomnan,cave. 


Beatman Archive | 


However, accidents and chance discoveries will happen. 


A CHANCE DISCOVERY HAPPENING BY ACCIDENT 


Hey! Theres dried 
mud all over your 
little thing’; 


A cave man named Jhirque » — Beats sittin’ 
sat in a mud puddle. ... oncold rocks! 


That's OK! 
ГЇЇ just 2 
тро” 


que 


A, Sweet riid puddle 
. here come agan? 22 


As legend would have it, hair 
grew on Jhirque’s palms, his brains 
turned to tapioca, his head hair fell 

out, etc., and, as with all who 
go it alone, many shunned him. 
But to him we owe the Д of... 


mastery +.. INDIVIDUALITY. 


234 


EQUAL-TIME DEPARTMENT 
Some religionists believe sex was discovered in their own peculiar way. 
"Their tale must be told and it is glossed over here in a sense of fairness. 


А man named Adam lived in the Garden 
of Eden. He was lonely. The Garden of Eden 


From his rib was made a companion and 


had no mud puddles, helpmeat named Eve. 


ow! And to 


link. have, PA 


25 more ribs! 


One day, Eve verily thought she The snake told Eve to verily give Eve verily gave Adam 
saw а snake come out of a tree. Adam an apple. the apple. 


Netting!A hole 
lot of nothing! 
CA 


«what _ One of you is tuits | 
ae but I dort Know | 


Gidoudahere, 
jou dloidy Slobs, 


{ Sure like cantaloupe and a pound 
FON y 1 
you 


„cant wait tl of bananas, Two 
E fae 
Clean > the shing beans 
Bee no t > five cucumbers 
5 , 


BACK-TO-OUR-STORY DEPARTMENT 


P TR 
Heg!Look what They oughta be Quit lookin! P. 


i shamed of themselves | Масра got 
them tigris is asan m n S Ea respect? 


The start of what we 
have to call civilization 
dates from hunting Tigris ED 
on the Euphrates Rivers. == 


Accordingto ms 
cuneiform tablets, 
thou shalt not eat 
milk ond meat 
together! 

SS 


Heg! This gus 
in the al puddle 
hos just broken | 
ie Mosaic д 


Cuneiform? 
As always, education Can you read 
played a vital role in Я 
man’s unending progression 
toward getting on with it. 


| No! But then, 
again,I cont | 
read anything 


Which brings to a head Was necessity the 
the question: invention of all mothers? 


235 


y 
100% Scotch Whiskies. 86.8 Proof. imported by Somerset Importer: d 


Give the world's favorite Scotch for the world's favorite season 


MISSCOYNTE OF GREENE continued prom page 198) 


“Yes, it sounds to me 1 
entered the shop!" 

“I don't sce no fly i 
don't hear none either 

Miss Coynte was now convinced of 
what she had suspected. 

“Then I think the humming must be 
in my head. This has been such a hectic 
week for me, if I were not still young, I 
would be afraid that I might sulfer a 
stroke; you know, I really do think I am 
going to have to employ an assistant here 


a horsefly's 


the shop and I 


soon. When I began this thing, I hadn't 
ny suspicion that it would tu 


n out to 
be such a thriving enterprise. 

There was something, more than one 
thing, between the lines of her talk, and 
certainly one of those things w 
proximity of this exotic young ma 
was so close to her that whenever she 
made one of her fluried turns—they 
c both in front of a counter now—her 
fingers would encounter the close-fitting 
cloth of his sui 
Ir. Jones, please excuse me for being 
so slow about wrapping up these things. 
It’s just my, my—state of exhaustion, you 
know.” 

“T know.” 

"Perhaps you know. too, that I lost my 
grandmother yesterday, 

"Wasn't it week befo’ last?’ 

“Your memory is remarkable as. 

She didn't finish that sentence but sud- 
denly leaned Бас) ter 
ind raised a hand to her forehead, which 
she had expected to feel hot as fire but 
which was deathly cold to her touch. 
Excuse me if..." 

“What” 

“Oh, Mr. Jones,” she whispered with 
no breath in her throat that seemed 
pable of producing even a whisper, "if 
there isn’t а fly, there must be a swarm of 
in this shop. Mr. Jones, you know, it 
a stroke that took Mêre. 

‘No, I didn't know. The paper just 
said she was dead.” 

It was a stroke, Mr. Jones. Most 
of the Coyntes go that way, suddenly, 


from strokes due to unexpected . . . 


excitement. . . . 

You mean you feel . . 

“I feel like Chicken Little when the 
acorn hit her on the head and she said, 
"Oh. the sky is falling!” I swear that's how 
1 feel now!” 

It seemed to Miss Coynte that he was 
about to slip an arm about her slight but 
sinewy waist as she swayed a little toward 
him, and perhaps he was about to do 
that, but what actually happened was 
this: She made a very quick, flurried mo- 
tion, a sort of whirling about, so that the 


knuckles of her hand, lifted to just the 
tight level, brushed over the fly of his 
trousers. 


"Oh?" she gasped, “Excuse met" 
But there was nothing apologetic in 


her smile and, having completed a full 
turn before him, so that they were again 
face to face, she heard herself say to him: 

you are not completely 


Caucasian! 


te race 

His eyes opened very wide, very liq 
and molten, but she stood her ground be- 
fore their challenging look. 

“Miss Coynte, in Greene nobody h: 
ever called me a nigger but you. You are 
the first and the last to accuse me of 
that” 


aid was not an accusi- 
was merely" 


But what T 
tion. Mr. Jones, 
Take this! 

She gasped and leaned back, expecting 
him to smash а fist in her face. But м 
he did was more shocking. He opened 
the fly that she had sensed and thrust 
into her hand, seizing it by the wrist, th 
rt of him which she defined to herself 
as his "member." [t was erect and pulsing 
riotously in her fingers, which he twisted 
abou 

"Now what does Chicken Little say to 
you, Miss Whitey Mighty, docs she still 
say the sky is falling or does she say i 
rising? 

Chicken Litle 
straight up to — 

“Your t 

“Oh, Mr. Jones, 1 think the shop is sr 
open, although it's past dosing time. 
Would you mind closing it for me? 

Leggo of my cock and I'll close it. 

"Please! Do. I can’t move!” 

Her fingers loosened their hold upon 
his member and he moved away from her 
and her fingers remained in the same po- 
ion and at the same level, loosened but 
still curved. 

The sound of his footsteps seemed to 
come from some distant corridor in 
which a giant was striding barefooted 
away. She heard several sounds besides 
that; she heard the blind being jerked 
down and the catch of the latch on the 
door and the switching off of the two 
greenshaded lights. Then she heard a 
very loud and long silence. 

“You've closed the shop, Mr. Jones?” 

“That's right, the shop is closed for 
business, 
‘Oh! No!” 

“By no do you mean don 

He had his hand under her skirt, 
which she had unconsciously lifted, and 
he was moving his light-palmed, dusky- 
backed, spatulate-fingered hand in а 
tight circular motion over her беу 
throbbing mound of Venus, 

“Oh, no, no, I meant do 

It was time for someone to 
he did, softly. 

"Thats what I thought you meant. 
Hold still till 1 get this off you." 

"Oh, I can't, how can 17" she cried 


says the sky is rising 


ugh and 


our, meaning that her excitement was far 
too intense to restrain her spasmodic 
motions. 

“Jesus,” he said as he lifted her onto 
the counter. 

“God!” she answered. 

You have got a real sweet litle thing 
there and I bet no m got inside it 
before.” 

“My Lord, I'm... .” 

She meant that she was already ap- 
proaching her climax. 

“Hold on. 

"Can 

“OK, we'll shoot together. 

And then the mutual flood. It was 
burning hot, the wetness, and it conti 
ued longer than even so practiced a stud 
as Jack Jones had ever known before. 

Then, when it stopped, and their 
bodies were no longer internally en- 
gaged, they lay beside each other, breath- 
y fast and heavily. on the counter 
After a while, he began to talk to Miss 
Coynte. 

“I think you better keep your mouth 
shut about 1 ause il you talk about 
it and my color, which has passed here so 
ar and which has got to pass in this 
goddamn city of Greene till I go back to 
buy me a piece of land and raise cine in 
Louisi: д 

"You arc not going back to raise cane 
in Louisiana," said Miss Coynte with 
such a tone of authority that he did not 
contradict her, then or ever thereafter. 


R 


It was nearly morning when she recov- 
ered her senses sulliciently to observe 
that the front door of The Better Mouse- 
trap was no longer locked but was now 
h the milky luster of strect 
mps coming over the sill, along with 
ves of flaming color. 
Her next observation was that she was 
stretched out naked on the floor 

"Hallelujah!" she shouted. 
om a distance came the voice of 
sleepy patrolman calling out, "Wha's 
that” 

Understandably, Miss Goynte chose 
not to reply. She scrambled to the door, 
locked it, got into her widely scattered 
clothes, some of which would barely hold 
decently together. 

She then returned home by a circui 
Tous route through several alleys and 
yards, having already surmised that her 
mission in life was certain, from this 
point onward, to involve such measures 
of subterfuge. 

As a child in Loui Ck Jones 
had suffered a touch of rheumatic fever. 
which had slightly affected a valve in his 
heart. 

He was now 25 

Old Doc Settle said to him, “Son, I 
don't know what you been up to lately. 
but you better cut down on it. you have 
developed a sort of noise in this right 
valve that is probably just functional, 


237 


PLAYBOY 


238 


not organic, but we don't want to take 


A month later, Jack Jones took to his 
bed and never got up again. His last vi 
tor was Miss Coynte and she was alone 
with him for about half an hour in 

Grcene Memorial Hospital, and then she 
screamed and when his nurse went in, he 
was sprawled naked on the floor. 

The nurse said, “Dead.” 

Then she glared at Miss Coynte. 
Why'd he take off his pajamas 
asked her. 

Then she noticed that Miss Coynte was 
wriggling. as surreptitiously as possible 
under the circumstance, into her pink 
support hose, but mot surreptitiously 
enough to escape the nurse's attention. 

"I don't know what you are talking 
pout,” said Miss Coynte, although the 
nurse had mot opened her mouth to 
speak a word about what Miss Coynte's 
е of incomplete dress implied. 


she 


It is casy to lead a double life in the 
Delta; in fact, it is almost impossible 
not to. 


"I find if you put a needle prec 


Miss Coynte did not need to be told by 


any specialist in emotional problems that. 
the only way to survive the loss of a lover 
such as Jack Jones had been before his 
collapse was to immediately seek out a 
in the weekend ed n of 
The Greene Gazette, she had inserted. 
a small classified ad that announced 
very simply, "Colored male needed at 
The Better Mousetrap for heavy delivery 
с” 

Bright and carly on Monday morning, 
Sonny Bowles entered the shop in answer. 
10 this appeal. 

ame, please” inquired Miss Coynte 
n a brisk and businesslike voice, sharply 
n contrast to her tone of interroga 
with the latc Jack Jones. 

Her next question was: "Age?" 

The answer was: "Young enough to 
handle delivery service; 

She glanced up at his face, which was 
almost two feet above her own, to assure 
herself that his answer had been as preg 
nant with double meaning as she had 
hoped 

What she saw was 


slow and amiable 


ly there, it takes 
the pain out of Christmas giving.” 


grin. She then dropped her eyes and 
said: “Now, Mr. Bowles, uh, Sonny, I'm 
sure that you understand that “delivery 
service’ ather flexible term for all 
the services that 1 may have in mind." 

Although she was not at all flurried, 
she made one of her sudden turns direct- 
ly in front of him, as she had done that 
latc afternoon when she first met the late 
Jack Jones, and this time it was not her 
knuckles but her raised finger tips that 
encountered, with no pretense of acci- 
dent whatsoever, the prominent some 
thing behind the vertical parabola of 
Sonny Bowles’s straining fly 

Or should we say “Super Fly"? 

He grinned at her. displaying teeth as 

paper. 
turned off the greenshaded 
lights himself and locked the shop door 
himself, and then he hopped up on the 
counter and sat down and Miss Coynte 
fell to her knees before him in an atti- 
tude of prayer. 

Sonny Bowles was employed at once by 
Miss Coynte to make deliveries in her lit- 
tle truck and to move stock in the store 

‘The closing hours of the shop became 
very erratic. Miss Coynte had a si 
printed that said OUT то LUNCH and that 
sign was sometimes hanging on the door 
au hall-past eight in the morning, 

“I have little attacks of migr 
Miss Coynte explained to people, 
when they come on me, I have to put up. 
the lunch sign right away 

Whether or not people were totally 
gullible in Greene, nothing was said in 
her presence to indicate any suspicion 
concerning these migr cks 

"he Better Mousetrap now had four 
branches, all prospering, for Mis Coynte 
d а nose for antiquities. As soo 
family died off and she heard about i 
Sonny Bowles would drive her to the 
house in her new Roadmaster. She would 
pretend to be offering sincere condo. 
lences to relatives in the house, but all 
the while her eyes would be darting 
about at objects that might be desirable 
in her shops. And so she throve. 

Sonny had a light-blue uniform with 
silver buttons when he drove her about. 

“Why, you two are inseparable." said a 
spiteful spinster named Alice Bates. 

"This was the beginning of a feud be- 
tween Miss Bates and Miss Coynte that 
continued for two years. Then one mid- 
night Miss Bates's house caught fire and 
she was burned alive in it and Miss 
Coynte said. “Poor Alice, I warned her 
to stop smoking in bed, God bless her." 

One morning at ten, Miss Coynte put 
up her our To LUNCH sign and locked the 
door, but Sonny sat reading a religious 
booklet under one of the green-shaded 
lamps and when Miss Coynte turned the 
lamp off, he turned it back on 

Sonny, you seem tired," remarked 
Miss Coynte. 

She opened the cash register 
him three $20 bills 


"Why don't you take a weck off," she 
suggested, "in some quiet town like 
Memphis? 

When Sonny returned from there a 
week later, he found himself out of a job 
and he had been replaced in The Better 
Mousetrap by his two younger brothers, 
a pair of twins named Mike and Moon. 

"These twins were identical. 

“Was that you, Mike?” Miss Coynte 


would inquire after one of her sudden 
lunches, and the answer was just as likely 
to be 


this is Moon, Miss 


Mike or Moon would drive her in her 
new yellow Packard every evening that 
summer to the Fi Point ferry and 
across it to a black community called 
Tiger Town, and specifically to a night 
resort called Red Dot. It would be dark 
by the time Mike or Moon would deliver 
Miss Coynte to this night resort and be- 
fore she got out of the yellow Packard, 
she would cover her face with dark face 
powder and also her hands and every ex- 
posed surface of her fair skin. 

Do I pas inspection? she would in- 
quire of Mike or Moon, and he would 
laugh his head off, and Miss Coynte 
would laugh along with him as he 
changed into his Levis and watermelon- 
pink silk shirt in the Packard. 

"Then they would enter and dance. 

You know what wonderful dancers the 
black people are, but after а week or so. 
tliey would dear the floor to watch Miss 
Coynte in the arms and hands of Mike or 
Moon going through their fantastic gyra- 
tions on the dance floor of Red Dot. 

‘There was a dance contest in Septem- 
ber with a dozen couples participating, 
but in two minutes the other couples 
retired from the floor as Miss Coynte 
leaped repeatedly over the head of Mike 
or Moon, each time swinging between his 
legs and winding up for a moment in 
front of him and then going into the 
wildest circular motion about him that 


any astral satellite could dream of per- 
forming in orbit. 
"Wow!" 


With this exclamation, Miss Goynte 
was accustomed to begin a dance and to 
conclude it also. 


“Miss Coynte?” 

“Yes? 

“This is Reverend Tooker.” 

She hung up at once and put the our 
To LUNCH sign on the shop door, locked it 
up and told Mike and Moon, "Our time 
is probably about to expire in Greene, at 
t for a while. 
At least for а while" did not mean 
right away. Miss Coynte was not a lady of 
the new South to be demoralized into 
precipitate flight by such a brief and in- 
terrupted phone call from a member of 
the Protestant clergy. 

Still, she was obliged, she thought, to 


“Boy, what a dream I had last night. 
The Ghost of Christmas Yet to Come showed me 
myself grown up, slaving at some 
boring job to pay for crap like this for my kid.” 


consider the advisability of putting some 
distance between herself and the small 
city of Greene sometime in the future, 
which might be nearer than farther. 

One morning while she was out to 
lunch but not lunching, she put through 
a call to the chamber of commerce in 

iloxi, Mississippi 

She ident 
was known, even tl 

“Lam doing research about the racial 
integr 
and I understand that you have a 
ary base just o 
wonder if you might be able to 
me if enlisted or drafted blacks are sta- 
tioned at your camp there 

Answei Co 

"Oh, you said yes, not no. And that 
was theonly question I had to ask you. 

“Miss Coynte,’ 
the other end of the phone line, “we've 
got this situation of integration pretty 
well under control, and if you'll take my 
1 don't think that there's a 
need for any research on it.” 

“Oh, but, sir, my type of research is not 
at all likely to disturb your so-called con- 
trol; if 1 make up my mind to visit Biloxi 
this season.” 

Enough of that phone conversation, 

However... 


ini 


drawled the voice at 


word for 


"Ehe season continued without any 
change of address for Miss Coynte. The 
season was late autumn and leaves were 


leaving the trees, but Miss Coynte re- 
mained in Greci 
However, cha 


с. 
ges of the sort called sig- 
nificant were manifesting themselves in 
the lady's moods and condit 

One hour past midnight, having re 
turned from Red Dot across the river, 
Miss Coynte detained her escorts, Mike 
and Moon, on the shadowy end of 
her long front veranda for an inspired 
conversation. 

"Not a light left in the town: we've 
got to change that to accomplish our 
purpose.” 

"Don't you 
“that 

‘The other twin finished the question, 
saying: “Dark is better for us? 
“Temporarily only,” said Miss Coynte. 
Yow, you listen to me, Mike and Moon! 
You know the Lord intended somet 
when he put the blacks and whites so 
close together in this great land of ours, 
which hasn't yet even more than begu 
to realiz ness. Now, I want 
you to hear me. Are you listening to 


think," asked Mike or 


Моо 


ves. ma'am.” said Mike or Moon. 

“Well, draw up closer,” and, to encour- 
age them toward this closer proximity to 
her, she reached out her hands to their 
laps and scized their members like han 
dles, so forcibly that they were obliged 
to draw their chairs up closer to the 
wicker chair of Miss Coynte. 

"Someday after our time,” she said in 


239 


PLAYBOY 


240 


a voice as rich as a religious incantation, 
“there is bound to be a grat new race in 
America, and this is naturally going to 
«ome about through the total mixing to- 


gether of black and. white blood, which 
we all know is actually red, regardless of 
ski 


color!” 
АП at once, Miss Coynte was v 
pirition or vision. 

Crouched upon the front lawn, arms 
extended toward her, she saw a crouch- 
ing figure with wings 


ed by 


Lord God Jesus!" she screamed. 
“Look there!” 
"Where, Miss Coynte?" 
“Annunciation, the angel!” 
Then she touched her abdomen. 
“1 feel it kicking already!" 
ced at each 


ith alarm. 

“1 wonder which of you it, but. 
mind that. Since you're identical 
s. it makes no difference, docs it? 
He's floating ng... 
She rose from her chair without relea 
th als, so that they were 


the А 


Usually at this hour, approaching 
morning. the twins would take leave 
of Miss Coynte, despite her wild pro- 
testations. 

But tonight she retained such a tight 
grip on their genital organs that they 
were 


Coynte enjoyed 
of profound temporary exhaust 
ng into it without a dread of waking 
lone in the morning, for not once du 
ing her sleep did she release her t 
ndles the twins had pro- 
ndered?—win or lose be 
all human games that we 
times both, unnamed. 


sleep 
n, fall. 


hold on the h 


Jed—or sur 
ing the name of 
now of; sci 


Now 20 years had passed and that 
period of time is bound to make a differ- 
ence in a lady's circumstances. 

Miss Coynte had retired from business 
and she was about to become a grand 
mother, She had an unmarried daughter, 
duskily handsome, named Michele 
Moon, whom she did not admit was her 
a 


is really no problem unless we make it 
опе. 

Miss Coynte now sat on the front gal- 
Jery of her home and, at intervals, her 
pregnant daughter would call out the 
screen door, "Miss Coynte, would you 
re for a toddy?” 

“Yes, a dite toddy would suit me 
fine,” would be the reply. 


Having mentioned birth and death, 


the easy progress between them, it 
would be unnatural not to explain that 
reference. 


Miss Coynte was dying now 

It would also be unnatural to deny 
that she was not somewhat regretful 
about this fact. Only persons with sui- 
cidal tendencies are not a little regretful 
when their time comes to pass away, 
nd it must be remembered what a full 
and rich and isfactory life Miss Coynte 
had had. And so she was somewhat 
gretful about the approach of that which 
she could not avoid, unless she were im- 
mortal. She was inclined, now, to utter 
an occasional light sigh as she sipped on 
a toddy on her front gallery. 

Now one Sunday in August, feeling 
that her life span was all but completed, 
Miss Coynte asked her illegitimate preg 
nant and unmarried daughter to drive 
her to the town graveyard with a great 
bunch of Jate-blooming roses. 

"They were memory roses, a name con- 
ferred upon them by Miss Coynte, and 
they were a delicate shade of pink with a 
dusky center. 

She hobbled slowly across the e- 
yard to where Jack Jones had been enjoy- 
ing his deserved repose beneath a shaft of 
marble that was exactly the height he had 
reached in his lifetime. 

There and then, Miss Соуме mur- 
mured a favorite saying of hers: “Chick 
en Little says the sky is falling” 

Then she placed the memory roses 
inst the shaft. 


You were the first” she said with a 
sigh. “All must be remembered, but the 
first it more definitely so than all of 


the others.” 
ing 


breeze stirred the rather 


"she remarked to the sky 

And the sky appeared to respond to 
her remark by drawing a diaphanous 
fair-weather cloud across the sun for 
moment with a breeze that murmured 
lightly through the graveyard grasses and 
flowers. 

So many have gone before me, she rc- 
flected, meaning those lovers whom she 
had survived. Why, only one that I can 
remember hasn't gone before. yes. Sonny 
Bowles, who went to Memphis in the 
nick of time, dear child. 

Miss Coynte called down the hill to the 
road, where she had left the pregnant un- 
married daughter in curiously animated 
conversation with a young colored gate- 
keeper of the cemetery. 

There was mo response from the 
daughter, and. no sound of conversation 
came up the hill, 

Miss Coynte put on her fa 
glasses, the lenses of which were a 
telescopic, and she then observed tha 
Michele Moon, despite her condition 
had engaged the young colored gat 


keeper in shameless sexual play behind 
the family crypt of a former governor. 

Miss Coynte smiled approvingly 

“It seems I am leaving my mission in 
good hands,” she murmured. 

When she had called out to her daugh- 
ter, Michele Moon. it had been her in: 
tention to have this heroically profligate 
young lady drive her across town to the 
colored graveyard with another bunch ol 
memory roses to scatter about the twin 
angels beneath which rested the late 
and Moon, who had died almost as 
closely together in time as they had been 
horn, one dying instantly as he boarded 
the ferry on the Arkansas side and the 
other he disembarked on the Missis. 
sippi side with his dead twin borne in 
his halfway up the steep levee. Then 
she had intended to toss here and there 
about her, as wantonly as Flora scattered 
blossoms to announce the vernal season, 
roses in memory of that incalculable 
number of black lovers who had crossed 
the river with her from Tiger Town, but 
of course this intention was far more ro- 
mantic than realistic, since it would have 
required a truckload of memory roses to 
serve as ап adequate homage to all of 
those whom she had enlisted in “the mis 
sion.” and actually, this late in the sea 
son, there were not that many memory 
roses in bloom. 

Miss Coynte of Greene now leaned, or 
toppled. a nylon tip pen in her hand, to 
add to the inscriptions on the great stone 
shaft one more, which would bc the rele: 
vant one of the lot. This inscription was 
ng form in her mind when the pen 
lipped from her grasp and disappeared 
n the roses. 

Mission was the first word of the in. 
tended inscription, She was sure that the 
rest of it would occur to her when she 
had found the pen among the memory 
roses, so she bent over to search among 
them as laboriously as she now drew 
breath, but the pen was not recovered— 
nor was her breath when she fell. 

In her prone position among the roses, 
as she surrendered her breath, the clouds 
aided above her and, oh, my God, what 
she saw- 

Miss Coynte of Greene almost knew 
what she saw in the division of clouds 
above her when it stopped in her, the 
ability to still know or even to sense the 
pproach of 

Knowledge of — 


arth. This observation is not meant to 
let you down but, on the contrary, to lift 
your spirit as the Paraclete lifted itself 
when: 

l's time to let it go. now, with this 
green burning inscrip 
"Right оп 


En avant! or 


Let's wreak vengeance on the forces oj evil!” 


“I know! 


241 


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PLAYBOY 


244 


HAPPY DAYS ANDHARDTIMES (continued from page 152) 


Lansky rode alongside him. Batista guar- 
anteed Lansky as much molasses as he 
would ever need. (And this was just one 
of the many deals that, in the decades 
ahead, that partnership would parlay 
to millions.) 

But Molaska had no intention of us 
any but a small part of the Cuban molas- 
ses as а sugar substitute. Its real aim was 
to turn out bootleg booze. Huge stills, 
claborately concealed underground and 
complete with escape tunnels, were bui 
in Cleveland and Zanesville, Ohio, in 
Elizabeth, New Jersey, and at least 13 
(no one is really certain how many) 
other locations in the East and Midwest. 
Molaska’s product, which cost two dol- 
ars à gallon wholesale and retailed for 
$2.50 a quart, found a ready market all 
over the Eastern part of the country and 
as far West as Kansas City. The customers 
were not just ordinary drinkers who were 
looking for good cheap liquor but also a 
host of legal distilleries in which the un- 
derworld had some interest. These mere- 
ly bottled and labeled the Molaska 
liquor and then sold it, at a price higher 
than strictly bootleg booze but, even with 
excise taxes, considerably lower than 
competitive legal liquor made and sold 
by non-Mob distilleries. 

More is about Molaska than 
about other operations, because 
Molaska eventually became gargantuan 
and attracted official attention. Early in 
1935, agents of the Internal Revenue 


Service's Alcohol and Tobacco Tax Unit 
closed down the stills in Zanesville and 
Elizabeth. The onc in Zanesville, they cs- 
timated, was the largest illegal still ever 
discovered in the United States; it con 
tained at least $250,000 worth of equip- 
ment and had the capacity to turn out 
5000 gallons of 190-proof alcohol every 
21 hours, And the Elizabeth still, agents 
‚ was turning out enough booze 
flood New York and New Jersey with 
illicit alcohol.” 

Though the raids ended these two op- 


crations, it is unlikely that they discour- 
aged the underworld from its continuing 
bootleg activities. But as a major activ- 


ity, bootlegging soon lagged far behind 
gambling, fast emerging as the biggest 
moneyamaker in the underworld portfo- 
lio. With the Wall Street collapse and the 
Depression that followed, the chances 
almost vanished for a quick kil 


out ri 


of ch : a bet 
on the horses (or ig event) at 
plush horse parlor ighbor- 


hood bookics, backed and banked by the 
organization; а bet on the numba 
coin in a slot machine; a chance from a 
candystore punchboard; and, for those 
with a little more cash, roulette wheels, 
crap tables, blackjack games and other 
pastimes at the casinos the Mob was be- 
ginning to open around the count 


^] don't care if the other kids have one— 


you cannot have a pony. 


‘There was hardly a resort area any 
where in which Mob money wasn't 
building clandestine casinos, usually 
with the support of paid-off local off 
cals During Upstate New York's social 
event of the summer, the Saratoga horse 
meet, the casinos boomed, the wheels 
spun and the chips and money of the na- 

on's elite poured into the pockets of 
Luciano and Lansky and Costello, who 
ran the games. In the mid-Thirties, with 
the backing of Huey Long (whose share 
of the take may have reached $20,000,000. 
or more before his assassination), Costcl- 
nd Kastel not only took the slot ma- 
ines to New Orleans but they opened 
the Beverly Club, which was soon awash 
in the money of rich Southerners and 
acationers; Lansky built and opened 


and other places north of Mia 
Madden was running a string of 
for the Mob in Hot Springs, Arkansas, 
which was becoming not merely a resort 
for the rich but a sanctuary and a play 
ground for the rulers of organized crime. 
Zwillman, Luciano, Costello, Willie Mo- 


reui and others held controlling interests 
nted number of casinos that 
long the New Jersey strip 
tan. 


in an unce 
flourished 
down the Hudson across from Manha 
c Cleveland mobsters such as Da 
sociation with Lansky and Luci- 
nd others, were taking over wide- 


in 
ano 
open Covington, Kentucky. Wherever 


the rich traveled in search of pleasure, 
there the Mob either was waiting or soon 
followed with the games to amuse them 
nd take tl 
But the Mob's gambling was not ju 
for the rich. "There was something for 
the very poor, too. Since the Twenties, 
the numbers—the policy racket—had 
been ubiquitous in Harlem; it was the 
chance for the poor blacks, at the risk of 
only a penny, a nickel, a dime, a quarter 
or even half a buck, to suddenly have 
their pockets filled with cash. Almost ev- 
eryone played every day, and with the 
economic collapse extending poverty 10 
millions of whites, the racket spread 
pidly to every poor neighborhood in al- 
most every city in the country. 

For the better, it way painless. Who 
would miss a penny ora nickel a day? For 
that penny, he could select any combi 
tion of thr 
he won—the winning number was based 
ordinarily on the betting totals from a 
combination of races at some horse track, 
d so theoretically unfixable—he would 
get a payoff of 600 to 1. 

For the operators, policy was almost 
maginably profitable and without ma 
jor risk. Alter all, the real odds on 
numbers bet were 999 to 1 and not the 
60040-1 payoff. In 1931, for instance, 
the Harlem policy banks were grossing 
535,000 a day and paying out to winners 
only 57700 a day. Even with their over- 
head—commnissions, salaries, police- and 


numbers up to 999, and if 


u 


(o | 


Ñ e 
GINGER ALE А 


<) 


Bacardi rum Except driving. 
mixes 


everything. 


Polyethylene 
chamber 


Accept 
no 
imitations 


There are dozens of low “tar” and nicotine 


cigarettes. Some even have funny-looking 
tips and mouthpieces. 


But there's just one Doral. 


With its unique recessed filter system. 
Its easy, almost effortless draw. 

And the taste low "tar" and nicotine 
smokers really like. Truly enjoy. Even 
swear by. 


Like we said, there's just one Doral. And 
just one Doral will convince you. 


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


Recessed 
filter 
system 


o 
FILTER: 15 mg. "tar". L0 mg. nicotine, MENTHOL: 15 my 1 . 
av. per cigarette, FTC Report FEB. 73. 


ind the like— 


political protection payoffs 
they were reaping a profit of more tha 
percent. And by 1933, in the depths of the 
Depression, there were estimates t 
policy in New York City alone was gross 
ing more than $300,000 a day, or over 
$100,000,000 a year. Including the rest of 
the country, that figure could be multi- 
plied at least ten times. 

Costello, who had grown up in East 
Harlem, always maintained some control 
over the rackets there, though his re 
1erests were elsewhere. Policy was raining 
money also onto Luciano and Lepke and 
others in New York and onto the Cleve 
land Syndicate and every other major 
mob in the nation. But in the early 
Thirties, the biggest numbers operator 
in New York, and in the whole country, 
Schultz. It was said that by 1933, he 
was cleaning up $20,000,000 a year from 
the numbers alone. 

Schultz had moved in only a couple of 
ег. Backed by the counsel of his 
‚ J. Richard “Dixie” Davis, and tt 
ical muscle of Tammany boss Hines, 
who became his partner, Schultz muscled 
in on the Harlem operators around 1931 
Selfemployed numbers bankers Wilfred 
Brunder, Big Joe Ison, Henry Miro, 
Alexander Pompez and others were sud- 
denly forced into cither retirement or the 
employment of Schultz. Once he had 
taken over, Schultz put the mathematical 
genius of Otto “Abbadabba” Berman to 
work to figure out ways to increase the 
take, In of devious maneuvers 
{including the involved one of using his 
aides to suddenly increase the bets on the 
vital races to manipulate the payoff num- 
ber), Berman managed to further reduce 
the pay-out and increase the profits by 
ten percent or more. His genius 
copied by others, though nobody else 
seemed to have his ability. 

For people who t want to bet the 
numbers or who thought they were not 
enough, there were options. Bookies in- 
habited every neighborhood, often as the 
owners of candy stores or small groceries 
looking for a way to make ends meet 
most of them used the central bookm: 
ing banks controlled by Luciano and his 
allies in New York. by the heirs to Ca 
pone in Chicago and by the leading 
Mobsters elsewhere. Costello and. Kastel 
had a lock on the slot machincs and 
punchboards, and when the new mayo 
a Guardia, went on a rampage against 
them, personally wielding 
some of the slots seized 
merely took up the offer made by Long 
and moved them down to Louisi: 

The money generated by gambling 
and other rackets was mounting almost 
faster than anyone knew what to do with 
it, and when combined with the millions 
that had been salted away during Prohi- 
bition, the underworld during the De- 
pression probably had the biggest stash 
of liquid assets in the nation. It was 


serie: 


money waiting to be put to work to carn 
even more money in an upward-sp 
cycle. It was available, at a price, to any 
businessman who wanted and needed it, 
who was willing to seck out the under- 
who was willing to 
pay the usurious interest rates 
cent, 100 percent or more—or, 
th e on a partner. Shylocking de- 
veloped into one of the surest, simplest 
and most important of the underworld’s 
enterprises. "Loan-sharking, sometimes 
called ‘juice, is believed to be the second 
most important sowrce of income lor 
criminal syndicates," said former Attor- 
ey General Ramsey Clark. And, as the 
then-acting chief of the Justice Depart- 
ments Organized Grime Section, Martin 
Loewy, noted in 1971, “Organized crime 
narily short of cash. When 
ness is slow, it leaves room for or- 
ime t0 take over, What starts 
Out as a creditor ends up as a. partner." 

"That was exactly what occurred in the 
rly years of the Depression and con 
tinucs to this day. The technique is sim- 
ple. The Shylock lends whatever is 
needed at the usual usurious interest 
rate, Every week, the collectors go around 
for payment of both princi nd in- 
terest. A classic example is a man who 
borrows 51000 for ten weeks: each of 
those ten weeks, he pays the Shylock 
$150; thus, in just over two months, the 
loan shark has not only recouped his 
original 51000 but has added 5500 to it, 
all of which goes back onto the street in 
the form of new loans. 

1f, however, the borrower is short and 
cannot come across, the trouble begins. 
In the old days, the optional payment 
would be a pound of flesh, and this oc- 
ionally is still exacted as a warning to 
other defaulters. But after the Wall Street 
debacle, the Shylocks clientele expanded 
to include many respectable men in busi- 
ess and industry who had nowhere else 
to turn and 1 g took a new 
twist. Lu Lepke, Costello, 
Schultz and the other racketeers with im- 
ion and hoards of ca wed into 
the banking business in a major way. 
‘They understood that beating or killing 
a recalcitrant borrower was simply waste- 
ful: It didn't ensure that the money 
would ever be repaid and it left behind. 
a bitter customer who might go to the au 
thorities and thereby endanger an almost 
completely riskless business (police and 
court records indicate that Shylocks are 
ly arrested and even more rarely con. 
vicred). They also understood that most. 
new customers had collateral— 
their businesses. And so developed the 
pattern in which a defaulting debtor was 
no longer b he merely wound up 
with a new partner. 

Having a gangster as a partner was not 
always as bad as some have described it, 
depending on the mood and the imme- 
diate objectives of the new partner. In 


some GU the racketcer' sole desire was 
d more. So, 


ness would be milked dry and driven 
into bankruptcy. But if the business pro: 
vided а nice cover for the racketecr, 
was usually in his interest not merely to 
keep it going but to make it succeed. to 
make it pay off with high profits—which 
à gangster could sometimes do when 
one else could. The underworld had its 
contacts and its payoffs, ensuring that 
city inspectors would overlook various 
code violations that otherwise would 
necessitate costly repairs. And not infre- 
quently, the new partner would invest 
money in new machinery and equipment 
that would increase both efficiency and 
profits, 

Then, of course, there were reciprocal 
deals and interlocking arrangements 
Gangster control of a variety of com- 
panies in numerous industries opened 
many opportunities to buy supplies and 
services cheaper than legitimate compet 
ors could. Also, a company's shipments 
could be guaranteed safe and speedy 
handling, for the gangsters often con- 
trolled trucking companies, a natural 
outgrowth of their heavy involvement 
wucking during the old bootleg day: 
па if they controlled local unions (the 
price paid for their organizing help), they 
could negotiate sweetheart contracts. 

With loan sharking as either the key or 
the wedge, the underworld soon ша 
ed to infiltrate or take over many cor- 
ions in many industries. Adonis, for 
stance, was for a time the leading 
Buick dealer in Brooklyn as proprietor 
of the Kings County Buick Company: he 


no 


pe 


owned Automotive Conveying Company 


of New Jersey, which Ford paid millions 
to ship cars from its Edgewater, 
Jersey, assembly plant all over the 
he also owned, among other legi 
and semilegitimate enterprises, a major 
igarette distributorship and a large vend- 
machine operation. Moretti, to 
trolled cigarette distribution, laundr 
trucks and other businesses; Lansky, in 
addition to his liquor, gambling and 
other illegal operations, controlled a com- 
ny called Manhattan Simplex (later, 
uted Wurlitzer juke 
Albert Anastasia and 
others were able to list their occupation 
d other officials as dress 
ufacturer, with factories in New York, 
Pennsylvania and elsewhere. Joe Bonan- 
no not only owned a garment factory 
Brooklyn but, like Costello and m: 
others, was putting his money in re: 
estate. The underworld would eventually 
control office buil partment houses 
amd other choice properties in every 
major city. Some of the industries the 
underworld found easiest to penetrate 
were amusements of all kinds, includ- 
ing theaters, moviecquipment m 
facturers and distributors; automol 


ny 


nu- 


247 


PLAYBOY 


particularly distributorships; baking: 
cigarette distribution; drugstores and 
drug companies: clectrical-equipment 
manufacturing; construction; flowers 
foods, especially meats, seafood, dairy 
products, fruit—all the perishable com 
odities that required quick and efficient 
handling to avoid spoilage and loss; gar- 
as stations and garages: hotels; 
iporcexport businesses of all kinds; 
surance; jukeboxes and other coin 
operated machines; laundries and dry 


eleaners; liquor; loan companies and 
bonding agencies; news services, es 
pecially those specia in 


information; newspapers: oil: 
producis; race tracks; radio statior 
taurants: real estate; shipping: 
stevedoring; transportation. 
Corporate. 
side of the с 
filtration and 


paper 


; res 
steel: 


only one 
t went in 


. Mong with. 
ake-over of unions, espe- 
cially those in major urban centers or in 
industries in which the gangsters were 
deeply entrenched. The Teamsters, for 


опе, were an early target. During th 
Twenties, the gangsters had become 
some of the biggest trucking operators i 
the nation, controlling huge fleets used 
to transport the illegal booze to market, 
and with Repeal they turned to haul 
every conceivable kind of merchandis 
But, for Teamster organizers, moving i 
underworld-controlled companies to 
try to sig 
deals were wor! 


up drivers was no casy task. So 


ed out. The price of 
contol of Teamstcı 


onization wa 
locals and а voice in the Teamsters’ in- 
ternational union, The underworld in- 
fluence in the Teamsters became so 
strong that union pension funds and 
other hoards found their way into gung 
ıd hotels and other operations, and the 
relationship between top Teamster of 
ficials and the leading underworld rulers 
such as Dalitz and Lansky was deep. 
abiding and very friendly. So corrupt, 
in Tact, did the leadership of ihe union 
become that eventually the A.F.L.-.C.1.0. 
found that it had no choice but to ex- 
pel the Teamsters from the house of 
organized labor. 

The Teamsters was just one union that 
fell, to a greater or lesser extent, under 
gangland control. Another classic exam 
ple occurred in New York's Garment Dis- 
trict. For years, the International Ladies” 
Garment Workers Union and the Amal- 
ишлей Clothing Workers of Amer 
ica had been unsuccessfully atemptin 
10 organize the spr ndustry ol 
small loft factories piled one upon the 
other in the teeming area of the West 20s 
d 30s in Manhattan. The attempts had 
been beaten back consistently. Manufac 
tuners entered into alliances with under- 
world strong men such as Lepke and 
La 
ganizers never crossed their threshold. 


io and Lucchese to ensure that or- 


248 And when the underworld began taking 


DEPRESSION DESPERADOES 


the bank robbers of the thirties were the last of the great american outlaws 


The swaggering gangland fops of the Roaring Twenties lost much of their 
mor after the crash of a man standing in a bread line found it casier to 
identify with a righteous Robin Hood or a vengeful Jesse James. Suddenly, the 
country was applauding the downfall of the Al Capones but finding certain ro- 
dee: Pretty Boy Floyd, Bonnie and Clyde and other 
rugged individualists who “only stole from the bankers what the bankers stole 
from the people.” 

Unlike the swarthy big-city gangsters with foreign names, the Depression des- 
peradoes were ге blooded, all-American out laws who came from “good homes” and 
were “driven to crime” by misfortune or injustice. They were underdogs i 
tion of underdogs. Colorful, daring, sometimes gallant, they robbed fat-cat “ 
sters,” led the cops a merry chase and died with their boots on. At least accordin, 
to legend 

Their legends were partly ex 


ted and promulgated by the U. S. Department of 
Justice, which needed some national villains to prod Congress into passing Fede 
Laws to fight "interstate" crime—and, incidentally, to transform the FBI from an 
almost. powerless investigative agency into a formidable corps of crime-busting G 
men. In the process, Americans were treated to an exhilara le game 
of cops and robbers that provided a welcome distraction from Depression worries 

The first bank robber to attract much attention was Charles Arthur Floyd, a 
disgruntled young Oklahoma farmer who somewhere acquired a submachine gun 
and the nickname Pretty Boy. He had а flair for the dramatic and he earned himself 
a Robin Hood reputation by generously paying the mountain people who often 
harbored him, Even so, he probably would not have made criminal history but for 
some bad shooting in Kansas City on June 17, 1933. Paid to spring a convicted 
bank robber en route to Leavenworth, Floyd opened up with a tommy gun in the 
Union Station’s parking lor, killing three policemen, a Federal agent and, stupidly 
enough, the man he was supposed to rescue. 

The Kansas City Massacre closely coincided with sensational kidnapings in 
Minneapolis and Oklahoma City, and with the country in an appropriate uproar, 
the Justice Department declared the usual war on crime. Unfortunately, the FBI 
could not yet identify the Kansas City machine gunner or the Minneapolis kidnap 
crs; and, in the absence of any other big-name Federal fugitives, the country had to 
make do with Machine Gun Kelly—the only member of the Oklahoma kidnaping 
gang who wasn't immediately caught. 

George Kelly was an undistinguished Memphis bootlegger who acquired the 
formidable nickname Machine Gun only alter Federal agents captured other mem 
bers of the group and traced their submachine gun to his wife, Kathryn, who had 
bought i пор. The story then went out that Kelly could 
write his name in lead and knock walnuts off fence posts with a Thompson. Alter 
nationwide manhunt, he was captured without a fight, sentenced to life and died 

Alcatraz in 1946, apparently without ever fring a shot in 

The pursuit, capture and trial of Mr. and Mrs. Machine Gun Kelly whetted the 
public's appetite for G-men adventures (reported almost daily in Justice Depart- 
ment news releases) and newspapers quickly found replacements in Clyde Barrow 
and Bonnie Parker. Unlike the Kellys. Bonnie and Clyde were trigger-happy kill- 
ers who terrorized the Southwest from 1932 to 1034. As a boy-and-girl bandit (cam, 
they had inherent romantic appeal, and newspapers enhanced this by publishing 


Bonnie's doggerel 
theft made them Federal fugitives, but the 
by Frank Hamer, a former Texas Ranger 
them to a hide-out in western Loui 
car on a country road with 160 
“I always hate to bust a cap on 

OF all the Depression outlaws, the one 
and professional ability was John Herbert 
Dillinger was a good boy from 


а worse crowd. Released in May 19 


nd snapshots of the two horseplaying with guns 


na and, with a local posse, bushwh 
йе and machine-gun bullets. Later he admitted, 
lady, especially when she's sitting down. 


vod home who fell in with 
he bungled his first holdup and went to prison for 
he pulled some robberies and the 


Interstate car 
G men were deprived of these trophies 
turned bounty hunter. Hamer tracked 

ked their 


most renowned Lor his style, elusiveness 
Dillinger. Raised on an Indiana farm, 
bad crowd. In 1924 
ne years, where he fell in with 
helped 


his friends break out. Then they returned the favor, Dillinger having gotten him- 


self caught in the meantime. With everyone finally present, the gang 
chine guns and began 


ions for subi 
ional headlines. 
reer lasted only 14 mont 


diana police si 

quickly made na 
Dillinger's 

spectacu 

-odds and managed his sen: 

capeproof jail in Crown Poi 


bank robberies, shot his way out of police 
“wooden p 


led two In. 
bank-robbing spree tha 


is, but in that 


ime he pulled dozens of 
1 FBI traps against great 
ol” break from the supposedly es- 
¢ tried to live up to his reputation as 


gentleman bandit and he knew how to rub salt in the wounds of the FBI, which 


ions 


had not only missed him on two oc 


process. At the height of the country's greatest п 


one drove to his home in Mooresville, Ini 
home-cooked food, g with friends 
with his n 
Dillinger and 


laughing at the discomfiture 


bewayed by the woman in red and shot i 
Chicago's Biograph Theater, the Dillinger 
Dillinger 


‘The FBI had long since identified him as th 
neglected to publicize this until Dillinger w 
what the Bureau hoped would be 
gun batde 
and cut him down with 14 mach 

This el 


ied Baby Face Nelson (nee I 


ished himself mainly by killing a Federal 
FBI trap in Wisconsin. He died November 


two G men who had disabled his car in a running gun battle near 


naged to escape in their 


рст-сга 


quicker 
Va brief two-week manhunt, G men cornered Floyd on an Ohio farm 
egun bullets on October 22, 1934. 

“ester Gillis) to the top of the FBI'S pub- 
enemy list. He was the uiggerhappy member of the Dillinger gang who dist 


but had killed innocent people in the 
"hunt, public enemy number 
na, and spent a quiet Sunday eating 
nd relatives and posing for snapshots 


hine gun and wooden pistol. By this time, the country was rooting for 


of the authorities. When he was finally 
the back by G men as he walked out of 
legend was complete. 


demise made Pretty Boy Floyd the new public enemy number one 


he Kansas City machine gunner but had 
was down and Floyd properly set up for 
nd cleaner kill. After one indecisive 


agent during the gang's escape from an 
27, 1934, after a blazing shoot-out with 
rington, Ii- 
gun from the hip, killed 
car with the help of his wife and an ас 


d a few hours later from 17 bullet wounds. 


ain lasting notoriety was “Ma 


Barker. A dowdy old woman of Ozark hillbilly stock, Arizona Clark Barker suppos 


edly m 


naged the criminal careers of her fe 


Karpis. Despite bank jobs netting as much a 


licemen, the Barke лей 


them as the Minneso: 


rpis gang 


Шей by FBI bullets on January 16, 1035, 


ver continued to cite her in speeches, magazi 


exa 


nple of the permissive parent. In an A 
Hooyer articles and books ghosted by Court 


kidnapers, which made them Federal fug 
newsworthy. Ma died with her son Freddie in their 


our sons and a young man named Alvin 
s $240,000 and the killing of two po- 
tle attention until the FBI identified 

ves and highly 
lorida hide-out when it 
id for years afterward J. Edgar Hoo- 
articles and books as his prize 
meric: ne article (one of many 
wey Ryley Cooper, a particularly melo- 


dramatic crime writer of the period), he said: 


The ey 


of Arizona Clark Barker, 


; by the way, always fascinated me. 


They were qucerly direct, penetrating, hot with some strangely sınolder 
ing flame, yet withal as hypnotically cold as the muzzle of a gun. 


In 1969, Karpis, the oi 
an autobiography descril 
accepted her sons’ unusu; 
the day she was killed, wa: 


y surviving me 
Ma Barker a 


lite style. Since she w; 
not wanted by police 


mber of the gang, left prison and wrote 
halfsenile old woman who witlessly 
s not known to the public befor 
nd had no criminal record, it 


seems likely that her notoriety was largely manufactured by an FBI that needed to 
justily the killing of somebody's mother—even a public enemy's. 


With the exception of Dillinger, some of whose exploits mea 


aired up to his 


popular image, the Depression desperadoes owe their reputations largely to the 


press and the authorities, They sold newsp: 
with new Fede 
cans that even if Crime Does Not P. 


laws, supplied the FBI with its biggest trophies and taught Ame 
it ca 


apers, provided the Justice Departm: 


an be a short cut to immortality. 
WILLIAM J. HELMER 


control of countless factories, the danger 
to union organizers only increased. 

Bur gradually there came the realiza- 
tion that more profit and power could be 
attained by playing both sides, and soon 
Lepke, Lucchese, Luciano and the rest 
were not just making dresses, coats and 
suits but pinning a union label on them. 
What seemed of greatest interest to the 
garmentcenter union leaders such as 
Sidney Hillman, David Dubinsky, Jacob 
Potolsky and others during the late 
Twenties and Thirties was not the wages 
or working conditions of the laborers but 
putting a union card in their pockets and 
extracting dues from them. JE it didn't 
cost the manufacturers much, if it guar- 
меса labor peace, if it enriched the 
acketeers and increased their pow! 
then they were not averse to coming 


to the aid of the LLGW.U. and the 
Amalgamated, Soon the ranks of gar- 
mentunion organizers were swelled 


by the hirclings of Lepke, Luciano 
and the rest—tough thugs and killers 
such as Jacob “Gurrah” Shapiro, Charlic 
The Bug” Workman and Abe "Kid 
Twist” Reles. 

So the garm 


nt industry was organized, 
but the price was high. Numerous locals 
fell under the absolute control of the im- 
derworld and the corrupting influence 
marched all the way i 

quarters. Dues were siphoned off into 
the pockets of the gangsters and honest 
garment manufacturers found themselves 
forced to pay additional extortion money 
to Lepke, Lucchese, Luciano and their 
friends to avoid strikes and slowdowns, 
hile their competitors down the street, 
owned or controlled by the very same 
ad no such labor problems. 


And then there is the incredible story. 
of the 


Mob's move into the motion- 
lustry. It began in 1932, when 
George E. Browne, the business agent of 
of the International Al- 
of Theatrical Stage Employees 
(LA.TSE). linked up with one Willie 

i ind business 
nd other Ca- 
pone mobster о, Lepke, Cos- 
tello, Zwillman and many more. Browne's 
local had jurisdiction over motion-picture 
projectionists mes being not the 
best, more than half the local's 400 mem- 
bers were out of work. Biolf and Browne 
came up with an idea of how to turn that 
unemployment into golden linings for 
their personal pockets. They set up a 
soup kitchen to feed the destitute projec- 
tionists and then proceeded to squeeze 
theater owners for contributions 10 sup- 
port the kitchen, It was all pretty small- 
time until the two decided to take on 
Barney Balaban, head of the Balaban & 
Katz theater chain. 

Bioff and Browne showed up at Ba 
һап office one morning and demanded 
that he restore a pay cut he had imposed 


associate of Fr; 


249 


PLAYBOY 


250 


on his theatrical employees a couple of 
years earlier when the Depression hit. 
When Balaban resisted, the two gave him 
an alternative. They would forget the de- 
mand if Balaban would kick in $7500 a 
year to operate the soup kitchen. “Bar- 
ney,” Biol! later testified in court when 
the law finally caught up with him, 
“turned out to be a lamb. When he 
agreed to our suggestion, I knew we had 
him. I told him his contribution would 
ve to be 550,000 unless he wanted real 
trouble. By that I meant we would pull 
his projectionists out of the theaters. He 
was appalled, but we turned on the heat 
He finally agreed to pay us $20,000." 

It had all been so simple that Bioft 
and Browne decided that a single local 
was not enough, that they could make 
millions if they could capture the inte: 
national. To support that bid, there was 
the underworld. In Chicago, Nitti, Paul 
DeLucia and other rulers of the Capone 
empire put the pressure on voting union- 
ists to cast their ballots for Browne as 
che new president of LA.T.S.E. In New 
York, the Browne slate had behind it th 
muscle of Lepke, Luciano and Zwillm 
Dalitz Frankie Milano and the Polizzis 
put the same kind of heat on union mem- 
bers in Cleveland and elsewhere in the 
Midwest. The electioncering was direct 
and blunt, and successful. When the 
LA.TS.E, convention was held in Louis- 
ville, the underworld's enforcers were 


ominously present, strolling slowly 
among the delegates and passing out mes- 
sages. When it came time to vote, Browne 
was elected president unanimously. 

His first move was to appoint Bioff 
his “personal representative.” And then 
the two decided to take over the whole 
movie industry, at least to the extent of 
extorting a fortune from it. They de- 
manded a payoff from the theater chains 
in Chicago; if the theaters didn’t pay up, 
Browne threatened to strike them with 
the demand that they hire two projec- 
tionists instead of the one they then 
had to employ. The gambit worked: the 
theaters came across with $100,000. The 
only problem for Browne and Bioll was 
that their Mob backers began demanding 
a bigger share of the take: 
50-50 split, the Mobsters dem 
percent, leaving Browne and Bioff to 
share the remaining 25 percent. That 
fazed the union leaders for only a mo- 
ment; they told the theater owners they 
were taking а cut of the profits and then, 
to keep their incomes as high as they had 
been before the new split, told them to 
cut the wages of their projectionists and 
fire some of their stagchands. 

Success in Chicago propelled Bioff and 
Browne ever onward. They turned to 
New York and with no difficulty all 
took the Loews theater chain for 
$150,000, the price for calling off a strike. 
But the biggest stake was still ahead— 


“Wake up, Horace! You're tossing in your sleep again.” 


Hollywood itself. In 1936, L. . had 
few members in the West Coast movie 
studios, but that didn't deter Bioff and 
Browne or their gangland backers. They 
demanded that T.A.T S.E. be given juris- 
diction over moviestudio labor. The 
studios resisted. The Mob reacted by 
striking and closing every movic theater 
from Chicago to St. Louis. The theater 
owners, led by Balaban, howled in an- 
guish and the studios capitulated. 
Controlling Hollywood labor was the 
wedge. Bioff called on Nicholas M. 
Schenck. president of Loew's and spokes- 
man for the industry, and informed him: 
You have a prosperous business here. I 
elected Browne president of this union 
because he will do what I say. I am the 


boss and I want $2,000,000 out of the 
movie industry. 
Schenck was stunned. "At first I 


couldn't talk," he said. “But Bioff said, 
"You don't know what will happen. We 
gave you just a taste of it in Chicago. We 
will close down every theater in the coun- 
try. You couldn't take that. It will cost 
you many millions of dollars over and 
over again. Think it over.” 

Think it over was what Schenck did, 
along with Sidney Kent of 20th Centu: 
Fox and Leo Spitz of RKO, and they dc- 
cided that wisdom dictated the payment, 
immediately and in perpetuity. The first 
money d in New York, at the 
Hotel Warwick. Schenck and Kent took. 
$75,000 as thc astallment in a 
satchel and then were forced to stand 
round and watch while Bioff and 
Browne dumped their loot onto a bed 
d slowly, carefully counted it. 
he movie industry got its high-priced 
peace and Biolf and Browne and their 
Mob friends got their fortunes. This 
went on for several years, until Joseph 
M. Schenck, brother of Nicholas and 20th 
Century-Fox chairman of the board, ran 
afoul of the law. After neglecting to 
report several large items on his income- 
tax return, he was indicted for and con- 
victed of tax evasion, and in return for 
a reduced sentence, he decided to tell 
the Government of his underworld deal- 
ings. His tale led to the indictment of 
the extortionists. Browne and Bioff were 
both convicted and sent to prison, where 
they decided to do a little singing of their 
own about their Mob backers, some of 
whom were also indicted. 
another term in prison, Nitti decided th 
was too much. He con ted suicide. 
DeLucia and several others wound up 
behind bars. 

But that didn't happen until 1941. In 
the meantime, the Mob was thriving. Its 
legitimate businesses were booming. it 
was capturing union after union and its 
illegal enterprises were pouring money 
into the coffers faster than even a com- 
puter could count it. By the middle 
Thirties, such racketeering opportunities 
were clear, indeed, to the leaders of the 


to tighten 


forged at 1929 and 


Adantic City in 
at the Italian-dominated Chicago con 


ence in 1931 

In a scries of mectings during the next 
three years- nd and at 
several places in New York, including 
the 39th-floor suite of the Waldorf Tow- 
ers, where Luciano lived in luxury under 
the Anglo-Saxon alias of Charles Ross— 
there was born what some have called the 
Combination, others the Outfit, still oth- 
ers the National Crime Syndicate or just 
the Syndicate. Almost every important 
underworld figure in the nation, either in 
person or by proxy, took part in these 
discussions and decisions. 

Much of the impetus behind these ses- 
sions came from Johnny Torrio, the un 
derworld's elder statesman though still in 
his 505. But Torrio had plenty of backing 
and many allies—men with strong voices 
and firm ideas of their own who saw, as 
he did, the need for national cooperation 
and were determined to bring it about. 
"There were Luciano from New York and 
his powerful friends, Adonis, С 
Lansky, Vito Genovese, Bugsy Sie 
Lepke. There were Dalitz from Cleve 
land, who usually traveled under the name 
Мос Davis, and Dalitz friends in both 
the Jewish and the Italian underworld. 
There were Costello's New Orleans part- 


tell 


ner, Kastel, who was discovering gold in 
Southern slot machines and gambling, 
and Kid Cann, born Isadore Blumen- 
field, from Minneapolis-St. Paul. The 
Philadelphia strong men, such as Harry 
Stromberg, better known as Nig Rosen, 
all favored the plan, and so did Zwillman 
and his partner, Moretti, from northern 
New Jersey. King Solomon and, alter 
Solomon died, Hymie Abrams usually at- 
tended to voice the desires of the New 
England mobs, and Anthony “Little 
Augi fano, who had moved to 
Miami, usually appeared to lobby for the 
idea that he should have suzerainty 
there. Kansas C іку Boss Тот Pendergast. 
was kept informed of all developments, 
though he was so deeply involved with 
Federal and state authorities during 
ihese years that he couldn't spare thc 
time to attend any of the meetings; his 
organization was in chaos and his under- 
world aide, John Lazia, convicted of tax 
evasion in 1934, was threatening to 
until machine-gun bullets sealed his 
Torrio had decreed that no forma 

tation be extended to the Chicago mobs; 
his own experiences with these had 
convinced him that the Chicagoans were 
just too uncivilized to engage in polite 
discussions with perspicacious men. But 
he did permit Chicago to send obsa 
to the meetings, usually Paul "The W 
cr" Ricca, who was generally considered, 


invi- 


along with Jake 
the smart 
organization. 

The purpose of these mectings, of 
course, was to implement the decisions of 
the 1981 Chicago conference, to forge 
closer ties among all the mobs, whatever 
their ethnic makeup, in cities across the 
country, and to on the rules by 
which they could not only coexist, as in 
the recent past, but at least partially 
m 


reasy Thumb" Guzik. 
ketcer in the old Capone 


And the signs looked good that such 
hopes could be realized. Luciano fre- 
quently pointed out that the days of 
jealousy and clannishness in the 1 
underworld were over. The assassina: 
tions of Giuseppe Masseria and Salvatore 
Maranzano, for which he took due credit, 
had already begun to bring the Mafia, or 
the Unione Siciliana, as he preferred to 
call it, out of the darkness of its pro- 
vincialism to work cooperatively with 
everyone. When the underworld cartel 
was finally established, Luciano stressed, 
the Italians, too, would abide by the 
rules and disciplines of the national com- 
mission (on which, of course, he and 
other powerful Mafia figures would sit). 

Luciano, Adonis, Lansky and others 
often referred to the success of the Seven 
Group (the organization established in 
1927 to ensure cooperation among the 
seven 


jor powers) as an example of 


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251 


PLAYBOY 


252 


what interethnic cooperation could ac- 
complish, and after 1933, Lansky and 
Dalitz held up the Molaska operation 
and the joint gambling ventures as ex 
amples of how profitable interregional 
cooperation could be. 

Zwillman’s point, which he raised time 
and again, dealt with public relations— 
the need for underworld leaders to pre- 
sent and comport themselves as good 
and responsible businessmen. It became 
something of an obsession with the New 
Jersey racketecr, who was forever de- 
nouncing the violence of the Dutch 
Schultz-Mad Dog Coll warfare and the 
rise of the freelance c nals such as 
John Dillinger and his nk-robbin; 
chopperwaving. trigger-happy friends. 
Such adventurers had to be put down, he 
often said; they were bad for business, as 
was gangland feuding; and as good bus 
nessmen, he and the others must stress 
discipline, cooperatio 
Nor should they neglect to enhance their 
images as publicspirited citizens. As 
amples. he cited his own offer of a reward 
for the capture and conviction of the 
kidnaper of the infant son of Coloncl 
Charles А. Lindbergh, and Madden's of- 
fer of his own personal services at no cost. 

Through these continuing discussions, 
the determination to establish a nation- 
al Syndicate became fixed, and in the 
workings of the new Roosevelt Adminis- 
tration—the National Recovery Adminis- 
uation, with its national board and its 
regional district boards—the underworld 
found a model for its own organization, 
By 1934, the Syndicate was following this 
route, setting up its national commis- 
sion, or board of directors, to decide 
overall policy and arbitrate all disputes. 
Under it were regional boards; the 


nd organization 


country was divided into disuias with a 
regional commission in charge of all or- 
ganized crime in its territory, and with 
territorial lines inviolate. In those areas, 
such as the West Coast and Miami, where 
the organization was just getting started, 
joint ventures should be undertaken. 

To enforce these agreements, the na- 
tional commission adopted an idea that 
Lepke had long been advancing. During 
Prohibition, the Bugs and Meyer Mob 
had been the enforcers for their partners 
and for the Seven Group. Lepke pro- 
posed a similar enforcement arm, direct- 
ed by him and Anastasia and composed 
of professional killers who would work 
under contract to the national commis 
sion and to regional and local organiza 
tions. It was a plan that met witt 
approval, 
tions, voiced by Dalitz and Lansky. They 
noted that when a politician or a report- 
er was killed, the inevitable result was 
1 publicity and a wave of civic reform. 
Thus, politicians and. journalists should 
be declared off limits. With these neces- 
sary exceptions, Lepke's scheme led to 
the establishment of what would become 
known as Murder, Ii ed. 

Such elaborate plans could not be im- 
plemented in a single day or week; that 
took years and many arduous meeti 
But by 1934, the Combi was be- 
coming 

At the same time, however. the hear on 
the underworld w: sing through 
a series of scandals and disclosures 
and would soon result in staggering 
explosi 


This is the fifth in a series of articles 
on organized crime in the United States. 


xcept for two minor objec 


S. 


2 


D 


Moh 


1 


“Santa doesn't understand me." 


GOLDEN GHRISLMAS DUCAL 
(continued from page 114) 

than such a depraved, alcoholclouded 
face. “Twenny cents cash. Plenny more 
where that came from.” 

“The booths are designed to accept 
quarters,” Dr. Krommbach said. 

He decided not to retreat, although the 
man had come still closer, his fist thrust at 
Dr. Krommbach. 


"Look," Dr. Krommbach said, unre- 
treating. “In Ше meanwhile, you can go 
into my booth.” 

You gotta booth?” the man said. 
ver there, with the open door.” Dr. 
Krommbach said. “The film is still run- 
ning, be i 


y cents cash. 
No, thank you," Dr. Krommbach 
What’s the matter, American moncy's 
not good enough 
Less than ten centimeters away from 
Dr. Krommbach's nose, the two dimes 
gleamed in the ominous fist. But Dr. 
Krommbach found he could not take 
them. They were the day's final insult to 
his ducat. 
No, thank you, you are my guest, 
Dr. Krommbach said. “It is Christ 
“Oh, yeah,” the man said. The huge 
hand dropped the dimes into the U. 
Army pocket and with the same motion 
pulled out a brown paper bag. “Attaboy, 
Christmas. Have a Christmas one on me.” 
t myself to wines,” Dr. Kromm- 


“Aw, have a drink, brother! Jesus! "Joy 
yourself.” 

It was too much. Dr. Krommbach could 
not improvise further defenses. He had to 
п paper bag with the bot 
tle inside and lead it to his lips. 

‘The taste was terrible. “Thank you,” 
he said. 

“Thank you, brother,” the man said. 
“Hey, bet that’s a goody you got for me in 
there, huh? 

“I—I hope the feature is to your taste,” 
Dr. Krommbach said. He received a 
smelly pat on the cheek. The man 
walked into the booth and Dr. Kromm- 
bach, at last free to leave, felt a warmth 
worming with surprising agreeableness 
down his throat and, at the same time, 
distinet lessening in his bladder’s burden. 
Plus an absurd impulse to give the note 
meant for the priest to the man in the 
booth. Absurd, but he felt there should 
be some sort of statement. 

“I have drunk your drink in honor of a 

ady in Vienna,” he said. 

› answer came. He had not spoken 
loud enough to overcome Rudolph the 
Reindeer or the booth’s noise, which had 
become a holiday present. Dr. Kromm- 
bach closed his eyes against the chill of 
the sucer, all the soiled frenzy outside. As 
he joined Christmas on Times Square, 
he tried to remember the last time some- 
one had patted him on the cheek. 


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PLAYBOY 


254 


wielding a mop, scrubbing the floor. 

"Hey," Adamovitch said. "Hey, what 
are you doing? You ruined my stove.” 
"Things must look nice.” the New 
‘low said. “Move your feet, you dirty 

boon. 

“What's a baboon?” 
puzzled 

The New Fellow sloshed a bucket of 
soapy water over the floor. Adamovitch 
jumped out of its way. “Cut thar our.” 
he yelled. 

"Things got to look nice," the New 
Fellow repeated, 

"Listen." Adamovitch said, "You be 
long to me. I made you. You do what I 
say.” He crossed the room and seized the 
New Fellow roughly by the shoulders. 

“Eeek,” the New Fellow said. "How 
dare you!" He swung his mop in a half 
circle and caught Adamovitch full in the 
face. "Go change those dirty clothes,” the 
‘ew Fellow said. "And shave.” 

Shave!” Adamovitch said. His face 
turned red. "Out!" he suddenly shouted. 


b; 
Adamovitch said, 


(continued from page 180) 


He seized a cleaver from his chopping 
block and waved it at the New Fellow. 
"Out! Out!" he yelled. 

The New Fellow dropped his mop and 
threw up his hands, squealed and ran out 
thedoor. Adamovitch looked sadly around 
at his ruined kitchen. He poured himself 
a water glass lull of drinking sheriy. 

For several days. the New Fellow lived 
here and there in the community, sleep- 
ing outside or in the dining hall. Natural- 
ly, he attracted a great deal of attention 
ї fist, because none of the other men 
had ever seen a New Person before, but 
the novelty soon wore off 
accepted. Actually, he was tolerated more 
than accepted, because he was d 
He didn't care for hunting, chi 
bragging, gambling or. in fact, any of the 
activities that occupied the others. Until 
Thursday afternoon, 

On Thursdays, the men usually had a 
wrastling contest. Potzo was the current 
mpion, and he, of course, challenged 
the New Fellow. 


“We were wondering how you and Bruce 
feel about wife swapping.” 


The New Fellow for the first time 
showed an interest in what was going on 
He asked what wrasding was and when 
it was explained to him, he smiled shyly 
and agreed 

It was really no contest. Potzo easily 
threw the New Fellow to the ground and 
seemed to be winning handily when 
somehow they began rolling around and 
rolled beneath some bushes beside the 
river. After a time, the sound of thrashing 
about in the bushes became more sub- 
dued and regular. Potzo was heard m 
ing strange sounds. 

They did not roll back from under the 
bushes for some time. When they did, 
Powo had a strange expression on his 
face and was buttoning up his trousers. 

“Hey.” he said angrily to the few 
spectators who had remained. “Hey, what 
The others were puzzled 
expression and the tone of his 
voice. You see, Potzo was embarrassed 
probably the first, but certainly not the 


last time that m had felt this odd 
emotion. 
“Did ya beat „ Potzo?" Pablo asked. 


Рошо, normally loquacious, grinned in 
a silly sort of way and nodded. “Yeah, 
yeah, sure,” he said. Then he reached out, 
took the New Fellow by the hand and 
they wandered off toward Potzo's house. 
The next morning. the New Fellow had 
put up curtains in Potzo’s house, mopped 
the floor and was shouting at him to 
scrape his fect before comi 
“Things have to be nice.” 
no more coming in whenever you want 


ou have to be on time for dinner, And 


no more bi 


ging your crumby friends 
home without letting me know first.” 

Potzo glared at the New Fellow. "You 
shut up,” he said. 

“All right,” said the New Fellow, “but 
it you don’t scrape your feet. no more 
wrustling.” 

“Who cares? 
stomped out. 

You'll see, 
after him. 

Potro saw 

By dinnertime, he was back with his 
feet scraped and his hands washed. Two 
days later, he had shaved his beard and 
was wearing a clean shirt. That evening 
when Adamovitch came around and t 
to claim Steve as his personal property, 
Potzo hit him in the mouth. 

Adamovitch went out and began brood- 
ing again. He couldn't forget the New 
Fellow. In spite of his stra 
there was something nice about him. He 
smelled good. 

Alter a while (about ten minutes). 
Adamovitch decided to make another 
New Fellow. And he did. 

And then he made another. And an 
other. 

L 


said Povo, and he 


the New Fellow called 


was too late. 


il suddenly 


as Det 
s to You 


The Surgeon General Hi 
*According 10 the latest U.S. Government ngures. arette Smoking 15 Dangerou 
Fiter and Menthol: 15 mg. "tar", 11 mg. nicotine av. per cigerene, FTC Report Feb., 73, 


| 


| 


PLAYBOY 


256 


SEXUAL BEHAVIOR 


freedom to engage in traditionally 
shunned or forbidden forms of fore- 
play wi marriage even extends to 
stimulation, wh 
eration ago that Kinsey publ 
detailed data on it. Today, more than 
half of the married males and females in 
the younger (under 35) half of our sur- 
vey sample have experienced mi 
nal foreplay, and more than a lourth 


have experienced oral-anal foreplay 
Some of this accumulated experi 
took place before or outside of n 


but most of it occurred as part of marital 
coitus. We can gauge the generational 
change from the fact that fewer than half 
as many people in the older half of our 
survey sample have ever had cither kind 
of experience. 

Contemporary husbands and wives 
spend more time at foreplay than did 
those of a generarion ago. Our interviews 
reveal that the aim often is enjoyment of 
the foreplay process itself, not just arous- 
al of the wile to the husband's level of 
readiness. Kinsey's female data 
median duration of 12 minutes; 
ours show a modest increase to 15 m 
utes, The male data offer more striking 
comparisons: Kinsey reported that the 
foreplay of lesseducated husbands was 
very brief or even perfunctory, while that 
of the average college-bred male was more 
likely to continue for five to 15 minutes 


or more (this suggests a ten-minute medi- 
an); in our sample, the median for non- 


(continued from page 91) 


college and college-educated husbands 
alike is 15 minutes, Younger married 
people in our sample spend somew! 
more time at it, on the average, than 
older people. 


Tod; ed couples make much 
more use of variant coital positions. 
Nearly three quarters of our married 


sample use the female-above position oc 
casionally to very often: only a little m 
than a third of Kinsey's did. More tha 
half use the least som 
times; only n a quarter of 
s did so. Two fifths engage in 
entrance vaginal coitus occasionally 
or more often; a little over one tenth did 
so in Kinsey's time. 

A gen n ago, the use of such v 
ant positions was much less common 
the noncollege level than at the college 
level; today, it is equally common at both 
levels. Age is the important criterion 
Younger married couples use every var 
t position more widely and more fre- 
quently than older ones do. Some of the 
contrasts are extraordinary. Consider the 
percentages of married people who often 
use теагеппу vaginal intercourse: 21 
percent of those under 25, nine percent 
of those between 35 and 44 and fewer 
than one percent of those 55 or older. 
While very few married people 45 or 
older engaged in anal intercourse at all 
in the past year, about one out of seven 
people between 35-14 and about one out 
of four under 85 did so at least once. 


“TH tell you this: He's no ‘hot-dogger’ in the sack.” 


All of 


foregoing changes sccm 
minor when we compare them with 
the stardingly impressi crease that 
Playboy found in the typical duration of 
coitus. Kinsey's estimate was that per- 
haps three quarters of all married males 
reached orgasm within two minutes or 
less of intromission. Today, according to 
our married males and our married [e- 
les, the median duration of marital со: 
itus is about ten minutes. An increase of 
this magnitude signifies a major shift in 
outlook of married. people concern- 
sexual relations. The median 
ion of marital coitus is greatest 
among the youngest married couples (13 
minutes for under25s) and shortest 
among the oldest (ten minutes for those 
55 and over). The 
days young men (and their seniors) can 
hold themselves back because the sexual 
goal encompasses the entire process, not 
just its culmination. 

The greater enjoyment of marital co. 
itus is valuable not just in itself but be- 
cause, as the Playboy survey finds, there 
is a suong connection between sexual 
pleasure and marital success: 

* A large majority of married men and 
married women who found marital co- 
itus very pleasurable during the past year 
rated their marriages emotionally very 
close. In contrast, few of those who found 
marital coitus lacking in pleasure о 
tually unpleasant rated their m 
very close or even fairly close, 

* Three out of five women and two our 
of five men who rated their marriages 
distant or not close found marital sex 
lacking in pleasure or actually unpleas- 
ant in the past year. 

One can argue either that sexual pleas 
wre is the cause of marital success or that 
sexual pleasure is the effect of marital 
success: Sexual success tends 10 crea 
emotional closeness, but emotio 
ness permits many people to be sexually 
successful. Probably there is no onc a 
swer; in most cascs, both things are true, 
each phenomenon being both cause and 
effect, in a reciprocal interaction. 

In any case, the survey data make it 
clear that the husband and wife who 
have a 
sex relationship are much likelie 
emotionally dose than the husband and 
wife who do nor, and that the emotion. 
ally close marriage is much lı 
include liberated. intensely pl 
coitus th 
riage 
ion 


In sum, contrary to popular op 
sexual liberation has enhanced 
marriage rather than harmed it 


This is the third in a series of articles 
reporting the results of a comprehensive 
Playboy Foundation-funded survey of 
sex in America. Morton Hunt's full re- 
port will be published as a box 
Behavior in the 1970s," by Playboy Press. 


TWO RUBBER TITTIES 


(continued from page 230) 
stood there, forgetting all about the 
counts, and girls were crashing into one 
another all over the place. The fellow 
himself was just sitting there, watching 
the show with a big smile on his face like 
nothing was happening. 

We are chatting, these showgirls and 1, 
in a backstage dressing room between 
се chat, they matterof 

Y costumes and put on 
ist as though irs a 
perfectly ordinary thing to do. And al- 
though I've logged two afternoons with 
some of them naked on a carpet, this 
clothes-changing thing is still pretty pro- 


ve- You know ind th, iow it 
and you know they know it, and al- 
though you don't feel you have to actual- 


ly do a 


ng as extreme as avert you 


1 stare at a nipple or 
а bush seems somehow 
I ask the girls what 
s to be showgirls. Ell 
mer in a water show in San Diego 
came to Vegas because there seemed to 
be more jobs here. "I didn't want to work 
"I was forced into it. 
here were no clothed 
7" she says. 
Claudette was a go-go girl in Phoenix 
and didn't find out till just before cur- 
tain time on her first job in Vegas t 
she was to be working seminude. “They'd 
given me this little folded-down bra to 
wear and I spent about ten minutes 
g to fold it back up again,” she says. 
hen I looked around at the two chicks 
on either side of me at the dressing table 
and I sai 


stripper in the San 
aking $75 a week for 

ne heard there was 
better money in Vegas, ‘There was. Mon- 
ica came here from England to be in а 
show at the age of 16 and had to be chap- 
eroned everywhe had ah 


©, 1 hated it. 1 got very 
ter six months 1 went back 
1 1 found that I no longer 
ything in common with my chums 
T found myself actually getting 
homesick for Vegas—for the people I'd 
met and for the life itself. I came back 
and I've been here ev 
"I love this tov 
the desert. Thi ery good 
10 me. The only disadvantage is 1 don't 
meet a good cross section of men. But 1 
can't worry about that now. 
“One reason we have such weird rela- 
tionships with men,” says Claudette, “is 
image. АП showgirls are automati 
ly categorized as know-nothing sex 
fiend hookers. You say, ‘I'm a fireman, 
people say, ‘Oh, you put out fires.” You 
Tm a showgirl,’ they say, ‘Oh, you 
ang your tits out and hook.” They think 


e. “I love 


MOST FOLKS say this smoke control device looks out of 
place in Jack Daniel Hollow. But we're glad it's here. 


You probably know we burn hard maple 
wood to charcoal for smoothing out 

the taste of Jack Daniel's. You also know 
that too many people are burning too 
many things in our country today. 

So, to do our part to fight pollution, 

we put up this burning device to 

purify the smoke before it hits the CHARCOAL 
air. No, it won't do a thing to MELLOWED 
improve our whiskey. Yes, it 
looks a little silly. Buc all of 

us in Jack Daniel Hollow are 
pretty proud of it just the same. 


Tennessee Whiskey • 90 Proof ~ Distilled and Bottled by Jack Daniel Distillery 
Lem Motlow, Prop., Inc., Lynchburg (Pop. 361), Tennessee 
Placed in the National Register of Historic Places by the United States Government. 257 


PLAYBOY 


Boom 


“Burgess... Momma burned your porno collection." 


vow ve got to be a freak, so they're lewd 
when they talk to you or, at best, conde- 
scending. “I'm shocked thar youre so 
sweet,” they say. It's just like you're two 
rubber titties. Hello! 
Showgirls are prey.” says 
“There are so [ew guys in tow 
will take any halfway-decent one. Practi- 
cally all the girls I know who are married 
or living with someone are with stage- 
hands, musicians or dealers 


married for one year to a dealer and has 
a 12-year-old son. Claudette was married 


bitte 
‘Showgirls tend to get hooked up with 
1 who don't like to work,” she says. "I 
ed my husband for three yc. 
and then one day I said, “This is 
of a 
cause I was a single female entertainer 
nder twenty-five and I couldn't buy in- 
surance or real estate or get credit. Well, 
1 paid for it. 1 bought a house while ] was 
married, but I gave it to my husband as a 
peace offering, and now that I'm not 
married anymore, I lost my credit rating. 
The whole thing is a piece of crap! 
“What are we going to do after our 
looks go except marry some dealer or 
stagehand?” says Clarice. "I'm going to 
be twenty-five soon. 1 don't have too 
ny good years left. What am I going 
to do after that? You've only got about 
ten years of your life you can be a nude. 
You don't get bad money while it lasts, 
258 but then it’s over and what've you got 


piece 
nd got out. I got married be- 


left? Nothing. Im already panicking.” 
“Most showgirls,” says Ellie, "are really 
looking to give it up after about five or 
years. They've sown their wild oats 
and they're tired of it. They're ready to 
settle down and get married. If they're 


not married by the time they're too old 


to be showgirls, they become соскі. 
waitresses. When they're too old to be 
cocktail waitresses, they become cashiers, 
God,” she says softly to herself, "I hope I 
don't end up a cashier.” 


Lam somewhat depressed by the dress 
ing-room revelations and decide to head 
for my room. I stand disconsolately wait- 
ing for the elevator and I note that 

Ithough there are three elevators in the 
bank, one is permanently out of order, 
‘one is temporarily out of order and the 
elevator call button is held together with 
Scotch tape. The only unbroken elevator 
eventually arrives and takes me to my 
floor, І note that the mirrored wall be- 
tween elevators on my floor has been 
cracked several places and the cracks 
repaired with gray Mystik tape. 

Tenier my room and turn on the lights 
nd find that half the bulbs arc burned. 
out. I turn on the TV and switch to one 
of the local television channels that he, 
Caesar, has listed for my viewing ple: 
ure, and discover that the TV is broker 
It is too warm in the room and I fiddle 
with the thermostat, only to discover that 
its own ideas about what tempera- 
my room should be and isn't conced- 
ing anything. I go into the bathroom to 
take a shower before bed and note that 
there is only one bath towel. You know 
how you are always hearing how hotels in 


Vegas are so luxurious and so cheap in 
order to Jure people to the gaming ta- 
bles? Well, guess what? I don't consider 
gray Mystik tape on a cracked mirror and 
elevator buttons held together with 
Scotch tape and a room with half the 
bulbs burned out and an anti-Semitic 
thermostat with a mind of its own and a 
ТУ set that turns on but does not othcr- 
wise function and one lousy 
the bathroom luxurious, 
for a room is cheap, then the whole thing 
is, as my friend Claudette says, a piece of 
crap, indeed. 

I climb into bed, tur 
that are not already bu 
to sleep. 

A couple of hours later, I am dredged 
up through several layers of unconscious- 
ness by the loudest pounding I have ever 
heard in а hotel room, Alter a quick 
check to make sure the pounding is not 
in my hung-over head but on the actual 
ceiling of my room, and after a quick 
check of my watch, which informs me it 
is seven A.M. I pick up the phone and 
dial the front desk. Controlling my fury 
with difficulty, I say, as follows: 

“This is Mr. Greenburg in room three 
seventy-three. There seems to be some- 
one hammering on my ceiling.” 

“Room three seventy-three,” says а 
sweet female voice. “Oh, yes. They're in- 
stalling carpeting in four seventy-three.” 
Listen,” I say, “I only just got to bed 
about an hour or two ago and 1 have a 
really awful hangover. Don't you think 
you could please get them to stop ham- 

ing up there?" 
‘Oh, my, no," she says, amazed that 1 
would even ask such a thing. 
Why not?" I say 
Because it's contract work 

There seems to be no further explana- 
tion forthcoming, so 1 hang up the 
phone. There is no sleeping with the 
g pounding. There isn't really 
у lying in bed. So I get up, get 
dressed and go downstairs to breakfast. 

Sometime later I return to my room 
for a nap. The pounding has stepped, 
but now there is tapping. Better than 
pounding, but still not the sort of thing 
one w: ing. I pick up the 


off those lights 
icd out and go 


it has gone dead. I sigh a 
downstairs to make a person: 

One of the things that 
in the always busy Caesars Palace c 
is that there are klieg lighis and a movie 
amera set up, be Alan King is mak 
ing а TV special here. As I push my way 
through the crowd, I hear someone loud- 
ly, peppily call my name. I turn around 
to discover it is Alan King himself, who 
Hi, how arc you, how'd you like to 
write a segment on a TV special I'm 
putting together soon?” Alan King is a 
very nice fellow whom T know vaguely 
and the part about writing the segment 
on the “EV special is, I think, just what 
Alan King tends to say to folks after he 


^ 


Levis Panatela announces 
$105 worth of slacks 
for $52. 


No, this is not a sale. 

Because those Levi's Panatela 
Slacks never did cost anything 
near $35 a pair. 

But $35 (give or take a five 
spot) is what you probably 
think a truly fine pair of dress 
slacks must cost. 

However, we'll bet that 
if you make a side-by-side, 
no-looking-at-the-labels 
comparison between our 
Panatela Slacks and a pair of 
expensive dress slacks, you 
will be: 

1. Amazed. 

2. Annoyed. 

3. A much wiser consumer. 
In that order. 

Amazed that — when it comes 
to styling, stitching, fabric 
performance, or overall crafts- 
manship— Levi's Panatela Slacks 
are equal to the more expensive 
slacks. 

Annoyed that—with the 
economy being what it is—youre 
asked to pay far, far more than 
necessary for the kind of quality 
dress slacks you want. 

And finally, you'll be a much 
wiser consumer. A man who 
knows that a high price tag 
probably does mean he has a 
pair of quality slacks in his hand. 
But it cant begin to equal two 
pairs of quality Panatela Slacks 
in his closet! 


PLAYBOY 


260 


“I think we should be getting back before we're missed.” 


says "Hi, how are you?"—or at least that 
has been my experience. 

1 tell him about the pounding on my 
ceiling and ask whether he knows the 
nager, whereupon he turns around 
ad yells: “Jerry? Jerry Gordon! Come 
on over here and meet a good friend of 
mine, Dan Greenburg—give him any- 
thing he wants!” 

А man distinguished chiefly by how 
unimpressed he is with this introduction 
shufiles over to me. I introduce myself 
nd, pushing things just a wee bit be- 
cause of my fatigue, say, “Hi, my name 
Dan Greenburg and I'm doing a piece 
for ruaysor on Vegas and I was up till 
about six AA. doing interviews and at 
seven on the nose this pounding begins 
on my ceiling and they tell me they are 
laying carpeting and what I would like 
to know is whether this is going to 
continue.” 

‘What room y 
clearly even less impressed with my being 
from rıayboy and writing a picce about 
Vegas than he is with the fact that I am 
best friends with Alan King. 

I'm in three seventy-three.” 

“Three seventy-three. Oh, yeah 
They're laying carpeting in four seventy- 
three. It'll continue. 

“Ie will? But I have to get some sleep.” 
So change rooms. 
Change rooms? But I just got in there 
yesterday and I unpacked and my stuff is 
all over the place and I really am not too 
fous tw yet it all packed up again 
right now.” 

lu response to this unreasonable 
kveiching from Alan Kings demented 
friend, Jerry Gordon merely sticks out 
his hand, which, although it is his left 
hand and not his right I feel I am 
obliged to shake, because the audience 
with the manager of Caesars Palace is 
clearly at an end. I reach out and limply 
shake the left hand of Jerry Gordon and, 
as I do so, realize with the sort of sinking 
feeling I will get to know rather well in 
this town in days to come that the left 
hand was not intended for me to shake 
It was merely signaling to someone stand- 
ing just behind me. I slink back to my 
phoneless room with the tapping ceiling 
and start packing. 

“I didn't have any boobs when I first 
came to town," confides a showgirl by the 
me of Lola, who very definitely h: 
them now. We are having dinner, Lo 
ud I, in the Ah So Japanese restaurant 
id we are surrounded by bridges and 
streams and waterfalls and rivers and 
ponds and various other bodies of wa- 
ter—as a matter of fact, there is scarcely 
enough dry land in this restaurant to 
valk on. 
he producer of dis show I was in 
aid. ‘E think you ought to have the 
shots; so I got them.” 


“Yeah, I got two shots under cach 


boob down here and one on top up 
around here. Anyway, I had the shots in 
the afternoon and that night I'm doing a 
show with little Band-Aids over the shots, 
and all of a sudden I feel the silicone 
start dribbling out. Ugh! This French 
girl I used to work with had a lot of 
trouble with her shots. She got a bad 
batch of silicone and at first it made her 
boobs all red and swollen, then the s 
cone dropped and it really got messy. 

"How far down did it drop? 

“She said it started seeping into her 
vagina, She can’t work anymore. She went 
back to her family in Paris, Most girls I 
know have had the shots, but the latest 
thing now is having sea-water bags put in 
there surgically. We call them sea-water 
bags because they sort of sloosh around 
inside. They look more natural than sili- 
cone and they don't feel as hard. Un- 
fortunately, some sea-water-bag jobs turn 
out terrible, with ugly scars under the 
nipples. 

"Like Georgette’s?” I say, referring to 
a girl she'd introduced me to earlier. 

“Oh, you thought Georgette had а bad 
job? That was a good job. You should sec 
the bad jobs. 

As Tunderstand it, Georgeuehad pretty 
big boobs to begin with, but she had sili- 
cone shots anyway, and when the sili 
dropped she had s 
"How come she wan 
busted?" J say- 

Lola looks at me carefully. 
100 many copies of ртлувох," ух. 
"Most women, you know, are naturally 
n A or B cup, but you see all those big 
tits in rrAYBOY and you start thinking 
there must be something wrong with you. 
1 sure did. I used to wear padded bı 
They're filled with foam rubber, which 
makes your boobs sweat a lot. And whi 
you sweat, you lose weight. I'm con- 
vinced that with all that sweating, wear 
ing padded bras made me at least one 
cup size smaller than T was already, Lis- 
ten, you think PLAyHoy has the guts 10 
print that? What I just said abou 
"Absolutely." 

"Well, anyway, big boobs may be on 
the way our. In Vegas, I mean. They used. 
to be fine when all vou had to do was 
stand onstage and look glamorous, but 
now they're making us dance our buns 
off and it’s not so good to have big boobs 
anymore. They jiggle around so much it 
hurts. Also, all that jiggling breaks down 
the tissues and makes them drop faster. I 
guess we could all get reduction jobs. 

"What's that?” 

“On a reduction job they cut a lot of 
fat out from underneath each breast, 
then they slice off your nipples and put 
them on again higher up. The sensitivity 
in your nipples is gone for a while, but 
then it comes back. If they didn't reset 
your nipples higher, then when they took 
the fat from underneath, they would end 


“She read. 


she 


as. 


up down around your waist. A reduction 
job is a fairly common operation. 

Speaking of nipples, I had by this time 
seen several shows, and hundreds of 
naked breasts, and every nipple I saw on 
every breast, both onstage and ой, 
fully erect. E asked Lola how she account- 
ed for chat. 

“Some girls touch themselves just be 
fore they go onstage. Some rub up 
against the velvet curtain, We have one 
our show now who's very 
inst 
m just before I go onstage to make my 
¡pples hard.” 

“Aud how does this stagehand react?” 
“Oh, he doesn't have lime to react—I 
run right out onstage, Sometimes, you 
know, it’s a very groovy feeling to just 
rub up against another nude wom: 
even if you're not gay—to rub up against 
a solt female chest instead of a hard male 
one. 1 mean, if you're nude and you're 
next to somebody else who's nude, it's 
very natural to want to touch her. But 
that doesn't mean we're lesbians, because 
we're not. Not all of us, І mean. 
Are youi 

"No." Pause. “I mean, Т don't think T 
am.” Pause. don't really know, to be 
honest with you. I've never actually done 
it with another girl, 1 mean, but there've 
been times when I've been tempted to try 
it.” Pause. “See, the thing of it is that 
with all the men Гуе been to bed w 
Гуе never actually had an orgasm 
sc. “Docs that surprise you? The 


“I guess so. I don't know.” 

“I told my gynecologist and he didn’t 
сус me at first. Then he realized 1 
serious. He asked if I had orgasms 
when I masturbated. Do you know up till 
that time E hadn't even masturbated? 
Anyway. I tried it, and that didn't help 
either. Thats when I started thinking 
maybe I'm gay. I mean, I do find myself 
occasionally tumed on by chicks, so 
һе what I am is pay. Tm sort of 
red to try and find out for sure. 

Pause. Lola giggles. "This guy I knew 
who worked at one of the casinos here 
ad this one showgirl he was going with 
Puerto Rico and this other showgirl he 
going with here who was a friend of 
. He brought the girl from Puerto 
Rico to Vegas. because he thought he 
could get a threesome going. Anyway, the 
girls met and really dug each other. They 
went out for drinks and they forgot 
about the guy completely. They went to 
bed together, and then they ran off 
and got married. The guy was kind ol 
shattered, He'll never try that ag; 

Another giggle. Then silence 

"You know," says Lola, "I once went 
to a gay bar here and let myself get 
picked Pause. "I went home with 
this gil and we started. necking and it 
wasn't too bad, and then she started un- 
dressing me and suddenly I knew 1 


261 


PLAYBOY 


262 


couldn't go through with it. I mean, I 
felt kind of sick, you know? I got up and 
babbled some kind of apology and left." 
Pause. "I wonder what it would have 
been like. If I had stayed.” 

Iam with my showgirl friend Ellie be 
tween shows and we are having a drink 
in a very gimmicky bar, not because there 
aren't ungimmicky bars in Vegas but be- 
cause 1 have discovered to my chagrin 
that I tend to like the gimmicky ones. 

"Listen," 1 say, “I've been talking with 
a number of girls and I am hearing a lot 
about gayness. I have my own theories 

bout it, but why do you think there's so 
much gayness and bisexuality in Vegas 
among the showgirls?” 

“I haven't noticed any,” says Ellie. 

“You haven't?” I say. "Almost every 
girl I've talked to has spoken about it in 
some form.” 

"Thats really weird," says 
n't think there was that much of it 
g on. Гуе only made it with a couple 
of chicks, myself.” This is said quite 
matter-of-factly, and 1 act perfectly unim- 
pressed and wait for her to continue. "I 
didn’t like it with either of them," she 
says, "I couldn't wait for it to be over. I 
doubt whether I would ever do it 
1 don't say I wouldn't, Y just doubt. 
a lot more fun to fantasize than to actual- 
ly do, if you ask me. Anyway, I'd much 
rather have an affair with a man th 
woman,” Pause. "I guess the ma 
I don't have affairs with women is that I 


di 


n rcason 


find women very devious. I don't tru: 
women. I like men better. 

“You can probably control men bet- 
ter,” I say gently. 

"Yeah, that, too,” she says 
Listen," I say to Lola, the girl I'd had 
dinner with the previous night, "I was 
talking to Ellie and she says she's done it 
with chicks. 

“Oh, we all have,” says Lola. “You re- 
member that girl we met at the restau- 
rant? That was my first gay lover." 

“Let's take that again from the top,” I 
say. "Last night you told me you'd never 
made it with а chick at all." 

Lola giggles. “Oh, is that what I said?” 

ase, A long sigh. 
‘ou know the story I told you about 
the girl in the gay bar who picked me 
up?” she says. "Well, I didn't leave when 
she started to undress me.” Pause. “We 
sat on the floor in front of her fireplace 
and we drank wine and talked and gig- 
gled and had a pretty good time. And 
then we started kissing and it was very 
groovy. And then we made love. The 
whole experience was a lot tenderer than 
with a man, and nobody was tying to 
prove anything The next day she sent 
me flowers. God, I really loved that.” 


Lola has suggested we see the show at 
the Stardust lounge. which she says is the 
best lounge show in Vegas. The lounge is 
very small and fairly crowded. As we 
enter, the headwaiter leads us past six 
empty ringside tables and row after row 


“PU be a little late, dear. I have a tough client on 
my hands who is holding out for more money!" 


of filled tables, then seats us at a table 
against the back wall behind a post. 

Lola leans over and whispers that ] 
should give the headwaiter some moncy 
to get a better table. How much? T whis. 
per. About three bucks, she whispers. 1 
discover all I have are fives. Lola fur- 
tively rummages in her purse, slips me 
three dollars in a little crumpled ball, 
which I am just about to smooth out 
decide how to gracefully offer the hi 

vaiter, whose back is turned. But he has 

heard the earsplitting crackle of money, 
whips around and, like а lizard's tongue 
around a fly, plucks the ball of bills neat 
ly out of my hand. He bum-rushes us 
over to a ringside table and disappears. 

The show is a dazzling combination of 
rock music, dance, song, comedy and 
magic. It is on a small stage and it's the 
fastest-paced and most brilliantly choreo 
graphed thing I have seen in а very lor 
time. From the opening, in which a fast 
stepping group of dancers comes out in 
black-velvet monk's habits and does hu- 
morous flashes of tit, to the number 
where they reappear as huge-headed 
dwarfs, with heads and 
in enormous top hats, 
made up as eyes topped by bushy eyc- 
brows, with long rubber noses stretched 
from cleavage to pupik and huge goatces 
around their. . . . Well, it sounds sexist 
and awful on paper. You had to be there. 

Lola tells me 1 have to sec the main 
show at the Stardust but that it’s always 
sold out and almost impossible to get 
tickets. “IE you have апу she sa 
“now is the time to use it.” Juice, 1 have 
learned, is a peculiarly Las Vegas word 
meaning pull or influence. 1 tell her ГИ 
sce what I can do. 

The next evening at the Ah So bar at 
Caesars Palace, T pick up the phone and 
ask che operator to connect mie with the 
Stardust. Task the next operator to put 
me through to the manager, and when 
he answers I go into my spicl—well 
modulated, seemingly assured, carcfully 
rehearsed. It is the Hi-my-name-is-Dan- 
Greenburg-and-I'm-doing-a-story-on-L: 
VepasforPLAYmoy number, following 
which I say I have tried unsuccessfully to. 
get tickets to the dinner show at the Sta 
dustand was sure he would bc able to help 
me. The manager seems confused. Then I 
learn that the reason he is confused is that 


of Cacsars Palace—none other than 
the unimpressible Jerry Gordon of Alan 
ing-introduction and left-hand grasp- 
ignaling fame. I hang up and cower 
a moment. I chugalug 

two quarts of an exotic Japanese fruit 
andrumsith-Hlowers drink. And then I 
try again with the operator. I speak to her 
quite sternly now, indicating that I am on 
to her plot to humiliate me and will 
brook no further nonsense, I persuade 


her to stay on the line until Lam personal- 
ly speaking to the right manager of the 
right hotel. She is cowed by my new mas- 
tery of the situation and in scarcely 20 
minutes more I am speaking to the man- 
ager of the Stardust. I give him the 
pLavnoy writer number and he smoothly 
tells me that he is terribly sorry, they're 
all sold out, have been for months; per- 
haps if I'd stop by sometime in June- 

T cut short this nonsense with my juice. 
I tell him that such and such a person, 
who I happen to know is on the Stardust 
Hotel's board of directors and whose 
nickname I have just dropped, although 
I only met the man for 20 seconds the 
day before, is going to be terribly sur- 
prised, since he personally assured me I 
would have a ringside table any time I 
wanted one. The Stardust manager is no 
fool. "I see we have one table left," he 
says immediately, and I hang up with a 
smug and, it turns out, wholly inappro- 
priate smile. 

Lola and Т arrive at the Stardust, stroll 
past a block-long line of tourists who 
have been waiting there a minimum of 
48 hours and make our way up to the 
monkey-suited gent at the velvet rope. I 
say in my suavest voice that thc nick- 
named boardoldirectors man has made 
a reservation in my name, which is an 
outrageous lie, and he smiles and bows 
and lets us through the velvet rope. The 
headwaiter to whom he has given us over. 
however, has nor been properly bricfed, 


because he leads us past hundreds of per- 
fectly decent tables to one that is roughly 
a foot {топу the parking lot. I rather im- 
periously advise him that Old Nickname 
has made a reservation in my name and 
urge him to check his little book. He 
checks but finds no reservation. He tells 
me that, in point of fact, he does not re- 
member ever having heard either my 
name, the name of my magazine nor any 
of the several aliases of the boardof- 
directors chap. Lola whispers to me that 
five bucks ought to be enough. I reach 
into my pocket, pull out a roll of bills 
and, with what I hope is an insultingly 
ostentatious gesture, whip off a fivc, 
snarling as І do so: “Perhaps this will re- 
fresh your memory.” 

Alas, T am new to this game and its 
rhythms, The five-dollar bill rips in two 
and I am stuck offering half a bill to the 
bemused headwaiter. It is a terrible mo- 
ment. It would be a terrible moment 
even if J had had the presence of mind to 
quip. “OK, now you meet me ten years 
from tonight on this very spot and we 
will fit our two halves back together 
again.” The headwaiter is fortunately 
not a bloodthirsty man and doesn’t let 
me bleed much longer than I absolutely 
deserve before pocketing both halves of 
my five and showing us to a considerably 
better table. Lola doesn’t think much of 
this table either, but 1 sense that I am no 
longer the influential person I used to be 
and I tcll her to shut up. We sit. I become 


violently homesick for New York, where 
Iam a fellow who knows his way around 
tough Brooklyn cabdrivers and snotty 
French sommeliers and where I am not 
normally found with my fly open in 
public places. 

I wonder aloud if the headwaiter 
would have been impressed with my five- 
dollar tip if I had been able to deliver it 
to him in one piece. “Oh, I doubt it,” says 
my companion. “Once this Texas oilman 
took me to see Elvis Presley—he slipped 
the headwaiter a hundred-dollar bill and 
we only got a little table in the balcony." 

The show in the main showroom of 
the Stardust is as dazzling in its way as 
was the one in the lounge. In one scene, 
an ice rink appears and two skaters do a 
seminude ice ballet; in an Oriental 
scene, the ice rink is replaced by a huge, 
sunken, mirrored mountain pool with 
people swimming around inside it, wi 
waterfalls plashing behind it, while in 
the background a display of fireworks 
depicts the eruption of Mount Fuj 
a medieval English scene, two knights 
in armor riding live horses joust with 
and battle-axes and real doves fly 
overhead at the end. There is a prison 
scene, the climax of which involves a 
prison break of about three dozen female 
prisoners, and two helicopters appear on 
а track over our heads with flashing red 
lights, cops firing tommy guns, and I am 
too overpowered to know what else. 

“Have you ever seen anything like 


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263 


PLAYBOY 


264 


whisper to Lola in awe. 
h, Frederic Apcar did it three years 
the Dunes, and so did Donn Arden, 
and Barry Ashton, and a lot of other guys. 
irly common number." 

We go next to the Dunes, where a 
friend of Lola's with much juice comps 
us to the show, The Dunes’ show has no 
helicopters or pool or ice rink, but it docs 
have a fleet of bare-breasted showgirls 
driving incredibly loud motorcycles 
through the audience onto the stage and 
it does have three wild men from Argen- 
tina who do a terrifying act with bolos 
and it does have four Gauchos on li 
loping toward the audience on a 
surrounded by clouds of dry 
ice-produced dust, and it ev 
congruous salute to Israel th 
spirited singing of Hava Nagila and film 
clips from World War Two newsreels 
that, on opening night I am 1010, in- 
cluded footage from Nazi death ca 
the point of which escapes me, but it 
must have seemed like a good idea to 
someone at the time. 


Shortly before 


triving here, 1 hap- 
pened to read somewhere that Raquel 
Welch has an act in Vegas, at the climax 
of which she whips open her gown and 
gives the audience a fast flash of Every- 
thing. T ask a showgirl named Myrna 
about Raquel's flash. 

“She opens up her dress and then clos- 
es it again,” says Myrna. “Big de 
thought it was really tacky. Plus she u 
ing a G string and pasties. In Vegas 
^ 1 cop-out, It makes nudity 


look cheap, which 
wise, E didn't think 
effective.” 
We arc driving down the Strip in a car 
1 have rented and we pass the Flamingo, 
onctime hangout of Bugsy Siegel. “Hey 
says Myrna, "did you hear they discov- 
ered a safe in the floor of Bugsy Siegel's 
old office 
"Yeah," I say, "I read about that—they 
spent six hours getting it open and then 
it turned out to be completely empty. 
Myrna laughs. "Oh, is that what 
read, that it was empty?" she says. 
The Mafia in Las Vegas, which seems 
to be composed mostly of Jewish gents 
their mid-60s, is very definitely on the 
It is being cased out by giant 
ions like Hughes, which now 
five of the major hotels, and like 
ton. which owns a couple more. Fv- 
erybody I have talked to, includ 
M s sorry то see the Mafia go- 
“The Mafia didn't insist that anything 
but the casinos make a profit," she es 
plains, “The giant corporations insist th. 
every part of the hotel make a profit— 
the guest rooms, the restaurants, the 
showroom, the lounge, whatever 
doesn't, they scrap it. When t 


n't, Stagenudity. 
she was ar all 


ran this town and a gambler lost his 
whole roll, he always kncw hc ha 
bed 


free 
and meals and whatever shows he 
ted to sce as long as he stayed here, 
nd then he had a free plane ticket 
home. A couple мсек ago, I was with a 
man at the crap tables who'd just 
dropped $10,000 he asked the pit boss 
Tor a cigarette and the pit boss directed 
him to the cigarette machine. That never 


"You cheap little starlets trying to break into show 
business are all alike . . . sensational.” 


could have happened in a Mafia casino, 
and that’s why the high rollers aren't 
coming to Vegas anymore. 
1 wish there were more Mafia people 
here now,” she says. "God bless "em, they 
were a pleasure to do business with. I call 
them the Good People. You never nced- 
ed a signed contract with them, just a 
ndshake. You did your job and they 
did theirs. And if you didn’t do your job, 
they were always fair about it. Let's say a 
dealer is caught stealing from the house, 
OK? So what do they do? They take him 
out and they break both his hands. Now, 
isn't that fair? He can't steal anymore, 
ight? He was a bad boy and he got his 
hands broken. This legal-recourse stuff is 
bullshit. A couple months ago, a Maf at- 
torney gets into his car, turns on the ig 
ion and the whole thing blows to picces. 
There was nothing left of the car or the 
attorney. A very professional job and 
they never found out who did it. So that's 
one less member of the Good People here 
and thats a shame. Since the Mafia lost 
control here, the crime rate has really 
n—muggings, robberies, rapes all 
ds of urban crime. This was a dean 
town when the Майа was running it 
They were really super. They teated us 
like princesses.” 


“I just couldn't believe when I first 
came here that men would hand you a 
hundred dollars just for standing next to 
m looking beautiful while they gam- 
bled,” says my tall friend Janet. “There 
was this one Texan who was 


n, because I'd heard he 1 
lock girls up in his room. One n 
to the showroom and there was this secu- 
rity guard waiting for me with a bouquet 
of a dozen white roses. I didn't know 
what the security guard was doing there 
till I looked closely at the roses: Wrapped 
ound each one of the stems was a new 
hundred-dollar bill. It was from this 
Texan—twelye hundred-dollar bills! T 
still wouldn't go out with him, though. 
"Did you give the money back?” I ask. 
“Well,” she says, “I sort of offered to, 
but he said, ‘Oh, 1 lose that much on the 
bles every night anyway,’ so I kept it. 
I ask some other showgirls about the 
gifts that men have given them. A tough 
little number named Stevie says: “This 
one guy I knew gave me a Mustang, a fox 
stole and a diamond ring. He was in the 
Maf, but I didn't know that at the time 
1 didn't even know he had any bread at 
all till he started laying this stuff on me 
I mean, he wasn’t even an old dried-up 
guy, he just felt he had to buy my comy 
ny. I felt obligated to him and I don't d 
that. so I went to bed with him and dis- 
charged my obligation.” She looks at me 
coolly, "I don't really like men that much, 
you want to know the truth. 
There was this one old dude who 
used to take about three of us to dinner 
every so ofter s а showgirl named 


sa 


Only Christmas is Christmas. 
Ony VO BUSY 


2 


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>з 


Marcia. "And during dinner he'd slip 
cach of us a hundred-dollar bill. We real- 
ized we were being paid just to cat with 
him, to make him look good. Which is a 
form of hooking, I guess.” 

Are there showgirls who are hook- 
ers?" Task 

"There are showgirls who hook on the 
side.” says Marcia. "and there are secre- 
tarics who fuck for the rent, too. Гус got- 
ten a lot of gifts from men. 1 never scored 
a car or a house, though. One guy I knew 
gave me a strand of pearls once, but I 
don't know what it’s worth. It's a triple 
suand, eightand-a-halfamillimet 
length strand of pearls, but | h 
idea of what it's worth. And this is from 
man I never even made it with. 
don't take money or gifts from men 
more,’ ys Marcia. “I don’t need to. 
1 own three houses and I'm in pretty 
good shape financially. You know what 
ЇЧ really love to do the next time some 
dude propositi 3 hundred 
dollars on h Here, go 
yourself a hook nk I might acte 
ly do that, as а matter of fact, just to see 
the look on his face. 

Not many girls 1 talked to had ever 
cally hooked. My friend Janet took one 
though, when her mother was 
dying of cancer and there was no money 
for cobalt treatments: 

“This guy comes up to me after the 
show and offers me а hundred dollars to 
come up to his room,” Janet recalls. “I 
figured, well, I go to bed with guys any- 
— why not get paid for it and give the 
d to mother? So 1 get up there and 
in the room are these five middle-aged 
rough-looking guys. One of them tells me 


PLAYBOY 


10 go into the bedroom. He has a huge 
Tshirt and a big 
1 go 


potbelly and an old 
—really disgust 
room to change sudden 
c what I'm doing and I start to 
I can't stop crying. Then the guy 
who'd asked me up there in the frst 
place comes into the bathroom and says 
то me, ‘Is this your first time?’ I say, “Ves, 
but I'll be OK in a minute.” He says, 1 
don't think you wi and he asks me 
why I need the money and I tell him. 
The next thing I know, he’s taken out 
this huge roll of bills, peeled oll a 
hundred dollars, pressed it into my hand 
nd is shullling me out a side door. I 
"What about all those guys in there 
. "Don't worry, I'll get them someone 
se. guy turned out to be another 
ino boss. Every time I'd see him апе 
that, he'd tease me about the night in his 
room—' How's your career in hooking 
he'd say.” 

Prostitution is, you may be surprised 
to hear, legal in many parts of Nevada— 
but not in Las Vegas. No one seems to 
e this exception very seriously. E talk 
о а showgirl named Paula, who works 
t a place called Circus Circus, which 

happens to be my favorite place in Las 
258 Vegas, but more about that later. 


nto the 


sk Paula if she's ever hooked. 
she “whenever I've need- 
ed the bread. But I never have anything 
to do with pimps. Pimps are very clever. 
They find out a girl's weakness and they 
play on that till they get control of you 
1 won't have anything to do with pimps. 
ТЇЇ dance with them, I mean, or PII drink 
with them, and if I'm really in a wild 
mood T might go to bed with them, but 
I'1 never be soft and cuddly in bed with 
them like I am with other men, and I'll 
never show them any weakness. 
ppointed with 
st " she says, "When you need 
them to be the strongest, they're the 
weakest, so then you have to become the 
strong one yourself. The younger men 1 
go out with are really like toys. 
"What do you mean? 
“1 just know I can control them so ensi- 
ly. IE think when E finally get married ivl 
be to an older guy, I'm really drawn to 
older guys. They're very gentle. And they 
take care of you. I'm going with an older 
guy now, à dealer, but it's not working 
out very well, so I've got another guy 
warming up in the bull pen. I used 
think my luck with men was just a lot of 
bad breaks, but lately I sce it's a pattern." 
“Why do you think you have such a 
pattern?” I say. my closet psychoanalytic 
tendencies creeping out. 
“Because,” she says, 
Sagittarius. 


“my Venus 


That men v as sexual 
objects is scarcely news. That showgirls 
view men the same way cime às some- 
thing of a surprise to me: 

“All of us get very turned on look- 
ing at a man’s body if he's got а good 
firm body and he’s wearing nice tight 
Cothes,” says а nude dancer named Ro- 
e dancers in our show 
have fantastic bodies, and 1 know most of 
them are gay. but they still turn me 
Like, I'll grab Ron's or Alan's buns some- 
times and they're firm and hard and 1 
find myself wondering what his cock 
must be like. I love to look at a man and 
мау undress him, right through all 


w showgirls 


that way—it was con 
sidered unladylike. But if men can talk 
that way about women, why can't women 
talk that way about men? 

"It's not just showgirls who feel that 
way,” says Rochelle. “You should see how 
ihe women in the audience look at our 
boy dancers. Nice straight little house- 
wives from Akron and they're staring 
right at those guys’ goodies. When some- 
body like Elvis or Tom Jones is in town, 
the women in the audience go wild. 
They throw their room keys up onstage 
to them and even their panties 

“Why do they do that?" I say- 

“Because Elvis and Tom Jones are sup- 
posed to have very big cocks,” 

“see,” I say. "How do we know this 

“Well, when we hear that some per- 


former is a good lay, we see to it thar o 
of us checks him out and reports back." 

We then get into a very specific discus- 
n about the sexual hang-ups of famous 
people that I wish I could tell you here 
because it's the gamiest, most fascinating 
gossip you've ever heard in your life, but 
if 1 did, this would be рглүвоу' lust 
issue. What I will do is tell you one anec- 
dote and say no more than that the fellow 
n this story is a famous TV personality 
you have seen a lot and that the girl who 
told me this story is a showgirl named 
who is known for ig a number 


of oth guing qualities, her absolute 
bone-chilling truthfulness 
Let us tune in to our story shortly after 


Shari arrives at the TV star's apartment: 
He shows her a videotape mach 
turns it on, and what he plays back is not 
his latest TV show but an instant replay 
of the last lady he made love to. He ex- 
plains that taping himself in the act is 
something of hobby. He then switches 
the tape machine to RECORD and starts to 
work on Shari. 

“He was very rough with me,” 
Shari. "He pulled me around the 
by my һай—а lot of it came out. Then 
he screwed me in the ass, which I really 
. 1 ried to re 


lered a lot, but it didn't do 
She pauses to think over the scene she's 
just described 10 me. "Actually, 
“I think I might have been overacting а 
little bir at the time, because I knew 1 
wasoncamei 


Il, 


© very direct,” says a 
good-looking stagehand named Burt 
Pirs like, ag already shed Шей 
clothes, they've shed the first veil of i 
timacy or whatever. The first showgirl I 
ever met came up to me backstage and 
said, "Do you think 1 have a nice ass? 1 
damn fell oll my chair. I said sure 
So then she said, "You know, ГШ bet you 
have a great big cock.’ I've had а showgirl 
see me from behind only, sce that I'm tall 
and blond a ir, and say to 
somebody, "s just the 


e, very direct. 
ou know,” says Burt, "after a while, 
you get sort of tired looking at all the 
nudes. It's like looking at your dog. 1 
find myself ignoring the nudes now and 
trying to sneak peeks at the dancers 
while they're dressing” 

Burt telis me about « showgirl he used 

h who had two pet boa constr 
‹ really dug snakes," he says 
Sexually, you mean? 
“That, too. She also dug putting a 
ke in bed with you while you were 
making love to her, at which point Z dug 
getting out of bed and going home." 

A showgirl named Laura overhears 
this story and adds a wrinkle of her 
own. "Sheilah and I bought our snakes 
together," she says, "only at the time she 
told me they were worms. When I found 


“Well done, Simpson. You may retire.” 


269 


PLAYBOY 


“Do you realize that we've been living together. for 


almos 


out they were boa constrictors, I got rid 
of mine. Sheilah's are about Alten feet 
Jong now. 

I never got around to asking how it 
was that Sheilah convinced her to buy 
the snakes in the first place, even under 
the pretense thar they were worms, but I 


Now I will tell you about Circus 
cus, which, as I said before, is my favorite 
place in Las Vegas. Circus Circus is a rel- 
atively new hotel, the casino of which 
could comfortably hold Madison Square 
zarden. Covering the floor of the gar- 
gantuan round room is a thick under- 
growth of slot machines and gam 
bles. Along the perimeter of the ca 
is a heady array of carnival activities, in- 
cluding shooting galleries, bumper ca 
Skee-ball and basketball shooting g 
stands selling carnival eats such as hot 
dogs and cotton candy and ice cream in 

n oyster 
yer who will 


anteed to contain a pearl, and a device 

led the Bunny Bank that holds two 
live, unhappy-looking rabbits in а cage 
made up as a miniature bank office that 
270 will, upon insertion of a dollar bill into 


a year and I've neuer s 


seen your ear 


the device, pull a lever that wins you one 
of eight terrific prizes. "Oh, goody,” says. 
a tall fat man, looking at the prize a 
bunny has just selected for him, “A 
change pursc—just what I needed.” 
Up above the casino. high in the air, 
unwatched by the folks playing slots or 
craps or carny games, 

uous succession of t 
acts. Were a t to miss the bar and. 
plunge to his death, only he and the per- 
son he landed on would ever know about 
it. Everybody else would be too busy 
gambling. 

Alternating with the high-wire acts are 
other c tractions on various rings 
scattered around the upper levels of the 
casino. As I enter tonight, a troupe of 


peze and high-wire 


Mexican acrobats called The Palacios 
hing its unwarched act. The 
Ма Palacio hoy completes two 


and a hi 


If somersaults in the air be- 
tween trapezes while blindfolded. The 
gamblers below him have seen as much 
Of this as he has. The Palacios take per- 
functory little bows to their nonaudience 
and trot swiftly off to their dressing rooms, 
doubtlessly thinking bitter south-of-the- 
border thoughts about their big break 
in the land of the gringos, where nobody 
even watches them except the performer 
that follows—Tanya the Baby Elephant. 


Ranged around the casino at ring level 
are a number of gift shops catering to the 
novelty seeker. There is, for example, an 
item for sale known as “My Yiddeshe 
Keychain.” which turns out to be a key 
ring with a rectangular piece of plastic 
attached to it on which is inscribed your 
choice of the following: “schmuck . . . 
dutz . . . momser . . . уема... fresser 
-.. gon shtunk." As 1 stand there 
scribbling notes, a security guard materi- 
izes in front of me wearing a cartridge 
belt, a service revolver and a little badge 
on his chest reading, CALL ME BARNEY. 
Here is the peppy menace that epi 
Las Vegas to me: a loaded pistol and a 
jolly how-de-do 

The guard demands to know what I 
am doing taking notes, but I am by now 
weary of being pushed around by hotcl 
managers and switchboard operators and 
desk clerks and headwaiters and I decide 
not to tell him. A man cun be pushed 
only so far. 


"What could I be doing that's Шерт 


"You could be 
a competitor tak raion nor prices. 
“That's egal?” I sa 
“I don't know,” he says. 
check the books. 
Swell," I say, 
sume my note-taking. 
Suddenly, hand drops to butt of gu 
It’s no more Mr. Nice Guy. 

“OK, fella,” he says, “you tell me right 
now what youre doing or there's going 
to be trouble. 

I decide to tell him. A man can be 
pushed farther than he thought. "Im 
king notes for an article on Vegas for 
PLAYBOY Um 

"Let's see your n." he says. 

“My identification! I don't have 
identification. Why the hell do I need 
identification to take note 

Finger unsnaps leather 

г. hand closes around h 

"Look," I say, 
see identification. 
PLAYMOY press y id they 
were sending one ro my hotel, but it 
hasn't come yet. I do have one from Life, 
though. Remember Life magazine? The 
one with the pictures? That went out ol 
business?” I am babbling now as I s 
ly sift through the three doren or so cards 
that together make up my identity. 1 
out а card and hand it to him. It 
turns out to be my Chemical Bank Cour- 
tesy Card, I apologize and finally find my 
old Life press card and press it into hi 
hand—the unarmed one. He squints 
the picture on the card, then at my 
then back at the card. He de 
legit and a big grin bre: s face 

You from New York?" he says. "T 
used to live in New York. But then 1 
come to Vegas. Helluva town, Vegas, I'm 


“Td have to 


“you do that," and re- 


p on hol- 
adle of gun. 


“look. OK. You want to 
OR. 


I don't have a 


not kidding ya.” 
The crisis I have a new best 
friend. I chat with him about old times 


One jig saw cut circles around the rest. 


The method of testing was 
scrupulously fair. 

A nationally recognized 
product research organization, 


The Robert W. Hunt Company, 


conducted the entire project. 
They took comparable 
Cri aftsman, Black Dades 


43.6900. Connecticut, 180 


board feet of pine, masonite, 
oak, even galvanized metal. 

At the completion of the 
tests, one thing was clear. 

We quote: 

"Our test data indicates that 
the Rockwell jig saws have 
cutting speeds 12 К 
faster than the other sa 
tested, depending on the mate- 
rial being cut? (R. W. Hunt Co., 


Excluding Hawaii and Alaska. 


Chicago, Illinois.) 
In other words, our jig saw 
cut circles around the rest. 
For a free copy of the т 
of the tests conducted by he 
Robert W. Hunt Company, 
/ lohn Trebel, Power Tool 
‚ision, Rockwell International, 
400 North Lexington Avenue, 
Pittsburgh, Pa. 15208. 


or Rockwell International 


PLAYBOY 


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going to the beach, 
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272 


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in the Big Apple, I ponder going hunt 
ng and drinking and bowling with him, 
I finally bid him a bittersweet farewell 
d amble on out of the gift shop. 
Next door is another shop feat 
ovelty items: key chains with ado 
little pink polyethylene penises, 
cards reading, и 
. . NO FEES, NO DUES, JU 
DOVER, PRESIDENT 
that say, MAFIA STAFF CAR, KEEPA YOU 
manos ОЕР! I love having Mafia joke 
ems on sale a town that 
least partly Mafia run. 1 resume my note- 
clerk appears to ask what I 
Lam through playing games. I 
intimate friend. 


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IST СОМЕ... 


BEN 
d bumper stickers 


nd he proudly produces 
t you can hook up to your 
commode and that, when activated by 
the weight of someone sitting down on 
the toilet seat, triggers a recorded. voice 
says: "Hoy, I'm working down 


used tobe i 

I tell P. 
well. i Neri Aen th ne 
audiences at Circus Circus. We arc chat- 
ting at the Ah So bar. which has become 
sort of home away from home, and I 
m sipping rumxand-Iruit drinks and nib- 
bling the flowers that float around inside 
them, For some reason, we happen 10 be 


." says Prisci 
you have to shave around 
your bird so your pubic hair doesn't show 
around the edges of your G string. Some 
girls just shave the sides of their birds— 
Mohawks, I call them. Some girls shave 
off the whole thing. Angelique used to 
shave hers in the shape of a heart. One 
night between shows we were bored, so 
we hada bird comest. To see who had the 
prettiest bird.” 

“Who won?” I say 
1. We all thought she had the 
prettiest one. 
How come’ 
Oh, hers was blonde and ours were 
wn or red. 
I swing the subject buck to G strings 
and find out that they are not bought in 
stores, that the wardrobe women back 
them up for each of the girls, 
1 some G strings have little pockets in 
the crotch, where you cin Keep your 
money while you're onstage—there are 
o lockers in the dressing rooms. 

“I think a patch is a lot sexier than a 
Gs says Priscilla, "because when 


you're wearing a patch and your back is 
to the audience, it looks like you're 


274 completely nude, They started wearing 


in Europe, but I was one of the 
st girls here to wear a patch instead of 
a G string. When I first started wearing 
them, I used to break out in these terri 
ble rashes. See, the edges of the patch 
are adhesive—iv's actually toupee tape 
that holds it in place—then you put the 
patch over your bird and it sticks. If 
the tape isn't sticky enough, you hang the 
patch over one of the bulbs of your dress 
ingroom mirror. Then when vou put it 
on, it sticks better, plus which it's all 
d sensual. It’s hell getting that 
adhesive off, though. It's all sticky. It can 


Kc men take 
our patches or our G strings. We found 
one guy who'd swiped a G string and was 
just sitting there, sniffing it. Mae West 
once had a lifesize cardboard. cutout of 
herself backstage that she used in her act. 
Jt disappeared and they found a mainte- 
nance m 
cut a hole in the appropriate p 
was fucking it. Once we found a 
man backstage dressed in just a G string 
nd a big feathered hat. He was standing 


in front of a mirror, putting pasties on 


n with it in the basement. He'd 
ace and 
work- 


his hairy old chest. 
During the day, Priscilla looks a lot 
different than she does at night. She 


works in tate office and dresse: 
n demure little suits. She wears no make- 
up and not even onc of the several pairs 
of false eyelashes she owns. In place of 
her electric blue contact lenses, she wears 
horn-rimmed glasses. A suit and glasses— 
Great Hera! Shades of Wonder Woma 

Priscilla has earned enough money be- 
tween real-estate and showgirl jobs to 
buy herself a $28,000 house, which n- 
pressive even after I learn that all she 
had 10 put down on it was $1400. She'd 
anaged to keep her nighttime identity 
a secret from everybody at the office for 
quite some time, but then her boss found 
out and came to her show with a bunch 
of his cronies. They sat at a ringside table, 
got drunk and loud and awful. Priscill; 
decided to teach her boss a lesson. In this 
show there was a French singer whose 
routine included going down into the au- 
dience, dragging some innocuous looking 
gendeman back onstage with her and 
making an ass of him. Priscilla pointed 
her boss out to the singer, who prompily 
got him up onstage and proceeded to 
make such an ass of him that the next day 
he left town and never сапе back. 

1 find the story a little chilling. I find 
the destruction of the gentleman onstage 
sadistic, though wholly justifiable. 1 find 
the French girl's routine in gencral (it is 
a fairly common routine in Vegas shows, 
by the way) just as chilling, just as sadis- 
ast as Because that type 
of the few ways that 
showgirls are able to get back it the пи 
who daily paw and grope and condescend 
to them—that routine and, of course, 
systematically relieving these men of an 
endless stream of $100 bills, fox stoles, 


‚ opera le arls, Mus: 
tangs, town houses and what have you. 

I was not surprised, really, to have 
learned. that girls so adept at stripping 
men of money and expensive gifts should 
themselves be so vulnerable to the deal- 
ers and stagehands and other men who, in 
tn ¢ girls of their very sal 
ries. Tit for tat, you might say. Satch 
t and find a masochist, you might 
nd, of course, there is nobody 
so gullible as a con man. since con 
men and con women naively think ih 
their own particular kind of cunni 
the only brand in town 

Las Vegas is, I think, an intensification 
and a parody of the war between the 
хез that has been going on with grow- 
ing passion throughout the country. Las 
Vegas is also a study of people who are 
deprived. of things such as conven 
al family constellations, who substitute 
Mafia bosses for fathers, showgirls for 
daughters and lovers of their own sex 
when none of the opposite sex seem suit- 
able or trustable, If one's world is short 
of appropriate folks to play the neces: 
sary roles in life, one remakes thar world 
ith w vailable, And it's not too sur- 
prising that, having done so, one's sense 
of reality blurs and shifts like the focus 
an Antonioni movie, and sometimes i 
hard to tell what actually is and what 
only seems to be. 

I found it fascinating to keep inter- 
Viewing the same showgirls on the same 
stories on dilferent days. to see how the 
facis had а way of chai 1 honestly 
don't think they were trying, in most 
ses, to be deceptive or to sweeten up 
the stories for dramatic effect—the newer 
versions of the stories were no better or 
worse th 
honestly thi 


the old ones, only different. I 
ich case 
slid 


k that the teller 
simply never knew which slippi 
ing v of the facts was real 
The time T have spent in Las V 
been much like the time I have sj 


dreams—always more frightening, 
ecstatic, more grotesque, more comp 
ling than the waking world has ever 


been, And showgirls—who are the most 
attractive, calculating, vulnerable, р 
nt, sophisticated, naive women I have 
ever met—are the perfect citizens of that 
twilight world. 

Toward the end of my stay, 1 was talk 
nd somehow we drifted 
into the subject of suicide. EIN 
that she had contemplated suici 
times, which surprised me, since she 
seemed about the smartest and the most 
successful and the most together showgirl 
Thad met ther 

^I would never commit suicide,” said 
Ellie after thinking it over carefully for 
several moments, "My mother would 
make such a mess ont of my financial 
affairs after I was dead that it just 
wouldn't be worth ir." 


275 


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TYRANNY OF WEAENESS (continued jron page 160) 


but most of 
for McGover 
There is nothing surprising about this, 
nor deplorable. The press, by reason of 
is twofold direction (looking to the 
sphere of words and thought on one 
hand, and to the public it must serve on 
the other), acts as a bridge between the 
populace and the establishment, the clec- 
torate and the educators. That is why 
Cronkite, even though he is elected in 
the sense that he gets favorable viewer re- 
sponse in a competitive industry, stands 
little to the left of the man we elected 
President. Agnew quite rightly suspects 
that Cronkite and his peers arc consort- 
ing with the literary folk and with pro- 
fessors. But far from b 
Buchanan argues, this Keep 
parts of the n. 
othe:—minorities with other minor 
and with the majority. Maybe the people 
listen only to Nixon and the professors 
only to McGovern; but both listen, at 
least part of the time, to Cronkite 
therefore fulfills the abrogated 
promise to "bring us together. 
press complements, rather than parrot- 
ing, polls and election returns. It stands 
slightly apart, commenting. Without it, 
the electorate and the elite would have 
little if any contact with each other and 
that is what Buch: 
condemns the press not for divid 


readership will have voted 


an really wants, He 


g but 


n's hatred of the elite is 
magnified because he is not really at 
home with sneers at the pointyheads. 
Nixon, if anything, is mere relaxed 
ong the old Populisis’ real enemics— 


with millionaire entrepreneurs like Behe 
Rebozo and Robert Abplanalp, like 
C. Arnoldholt Smith or W. Clement 


Stone. Nixon would be awkward com 
pany in taverns. The oddity of his claim 
to be the people's kind of man is summed 
up in the fact that Agnew was troued 
before us as a hoity-toity Harry Truman 
i nd John Held, Jr., hair 
out in the debris of the Rat 


most of them disaffected intellect 
themselves, lacks the earthy disdain 
cerity that other politicians, 
home in crowds and with common people, 
exude without an effort. Nixon must 
make up for that easy identification w 
the people by obsession with the one 
thing that links him to them—the com- 
mon enemy, those intellectuals he envies 
as well as contemns. To remain the fake 
Populist he is, he must reject the more 
congenial type he might have been—the 
type he heaped ridicule on when it came 
before him as an Adlai or an Acheson, 
trying to cut them all down to the n 
ure of Hiss, and just diminishing 
in the process. It is this self-maiming for 
which, in Nixon's eyes, the world sull 
has something со 


So every Democratic opponent, from 
Muskie to McGovern, had to be cast as 
an Ellsberg, while Ellsberg was being 
typed as a Hiss. The Senators ru 
for President were "consciously aiding 
and abetting the enemy," Halden 
¡med as the election year began. It has 
been especially important for Nixon. 
from the day of his own election in 1968, 
to make people realize that Edward Ken- 
nedy is the elite's spoiled favorite. It was 
for a long time dogma in the White 
House that Teddy would be the oppo- 
nent in 1972. The whole re-election race 
was shaped as a vendetta for the Kenne- 
dy defeat of Nixon in 1960. A dossier 
on the Massachusetts Senator was early 
begun and devoutly maintained. Kevin 
Phillips was already thinking ahead to 
the Kennedy race as he helped with the 
Humphrey one. Even after Chappaquid- 
dick, "Teddy haunted the White Housc. 
Mitchell held strategy sessions on ways to 
get Teddy savaged (though not defeat- 
ed) in his reelection race for Senator. 
He wanted a hard right-winger to take 
the Republican nomination, one who 
would not be finicky about snide side 
references to the accident. (Colson, who 
was becoming the White House Ken- 
nedy expert, put up Al Capp's name for 
the job—at the height of Capp's frenzy 
against “long-hairs,” and before his own 
legal troubles with a young girl began.) 

Kennedy's inislortunes, instead of pla- 
cating the Nixon forces (as removing 
him from competition), just seemed to 
inflame them more. He could get away 
with things denied to Nixon (who 1 
mented, while Bobby was still in the 1968 
race, “Oh, hell, why does Bobby get to be 
so mean, and why do I have to be so 
nice’). Teddy acts like a spoiled child, 
yet remains the darling of the establish- 
ment, given undeserved help along the 
way, a flunk-out with professors at hi 
beck and call, the campus cutup and 
admired subtle tyrant, bullying with 
charm—a very Steerforth in the world 
where Uriah Heep must climb by obse- 
quious skill, cenim, charismatic bun 
glers get all the praise. Teddy is e 
Ду BER 
making him climb by selfabasement 
Heep lives at the contradiction point in 
a society that admits invisible distinctions 
while crowing its belief in competitior 
He is not understandable except in con- 
junction with Steerforth, he of the casy 
destructive charm. Heep, t cannot 
be understood until he can almost be ex 
cused. He is the spokesman of competitive 
merit in a world that honors it only in 
theory, one cheated by the system unless 
he cheats; speaking for the open race yet 
wronged by it and needing revenge upon 
it, even though—by being false to its ow 
principles—he seems to vindicate it. 

It was not enough for these people 
that the academy itself had begun to turn 


on Camelot and was documenting just 
how wrong elites can be. Colson still had. 
to help float a forged document that 
would damage President Kennedy (and 
the country) retrospectively. The na- 
tion had to be protected from its own 
tuation with the Kennedys, who were 
disconcertingly popular as well as “estab- 
ished"—Bobby fit into neighborhood 
verns surprisingly well. So E. Howard 
Hunt was sent to Chappaquiddick and 
Anthony Ulasewicz was given license to 
Don Giovanni all Mary Jo's friends seria- 
п, to work up horror by traducing her 
name posthumously, all in the cause of 
family sanctity and Ehrlichman pictics 
bout the Washington cocktail culture. 
Haldeman suggested 2 24-hour watch on 
Kennedy. His friends and acquaintances 
were spied on, his travels clocked. If he 
had gone to a psychiatrist, no doubt the 
doctor would have been burglarized. And 
there is the point: The operation created 
to bring down Kennedy careened on 
st lesser fry like Ellsberg and Mc- 
, long alter there was any need of 
such pious treachery. Teddy was the sym 
bol of all that had to be smashed; the 
methods used elsewhere were first legiti- 
mized a; 
The Watergate ethos, 
overlapping theorics of рпі 
reversible, despite the de 
and the ease of the ca 
McGovern. What was being asserted was 
the vileness of the elite; and that 
comin syubolic and philosophical 
issue, not just a matter of winning one 
mpaign. The organizing cnergies of 
this effort moved in concurrent waves, 
reaching successive crests. There was the 
Mitchell movement, a brute affront to 
the establishment, meant to capture 
Wallace votes—a selfassurance quite 
at home with mediocrity, reaching its 
appropriate climax in the Carswell- 
Haynsworth nominations, Mitchell's 
Sequoia cruise with Nixon and the sub. 
sequent Presidential tantrum over snobs 
who hate all Southerners. There was the 
Haldeman-Ehrlichman war on demon 
strators that reached a peak in the raid 
on Ellsberg's doctor and the strident 1970 
campaign. And there was, finally, the 
scramble of Nixonites to outdo one 
other in undoing all Democratic cand 
dates for 1972, a scramble from which 
Colon emerged as, briefly, supreme. 
While Mitchel 1 was being shunted off to. 
C.R.E. 1 Haldeman worried out 
through Porter and Strachan and Magru- 
der over keeping him in his place the 
Colson had Nixon's ear more and more 
Office Building, speak- 
ng to him in mysteries—Colson's whole 
face narrowing and wrinkling out toward 
that whispering piranha-nibble of a grin. 
He had sat with Nixon on the night of 
disappointing election returns in 1970, 
after Nixon spoke publicly what he and 
Haldeman used to tell cach other in p 


expressed 


a 


vate. The President did his own dirty 277 


PLAYBOY 


278 


work in 1970, He would have to be more 
“Preidential"—i.e., devious—in 1972. 
The open scorn of Haldeman would give 
to Colson's sneak attacks. (In 1970. 
one of the few bright spots was the way 
Colson sabotaged the Tydings race with 
a planted falsehood in Life.) 

Colson, Nixon's latest Chotiner, gave 
him what he has always needed not 
only a Haldeman protectiveness but the 
Ability to kick 
by anonymity (or—if not th 
niability"). IE he cannot be 
Bobby, he can be mild 
crawling for everyone to sce 
only on the side away from the viewer. 
The crawling, as a thing imposed on 
him, justifies whatever Kicks he can get 
. It is important to remember one key 
passage on's Six Crises, which oc 
curs just after the worst kind of grievance 
41 been visited upon him as a touring 
sident in Peru. A man who spat 
on him was instantly jumped by a Secret 
Service agent: "He grabbed him by the 
arm and whirled him out of my path, but 


at onc remove, protected 


as I saw his legs go by, I at least had the 
satisfaction of planting a healthy kick on 
his shins. Nothing 1 did all day made me 
feel better.” 
"The import 


th 


ng is not that Nixon 


kicked the man—few of us could resent 


sode. What is significant 
gloats over this sneaky little secret kick, 
years later, and w: is to know he is 
Still gloating. H others did not ha 
ce to regret that rather undigi 
nd petty vindictiveness, they would be 
too embarrassed to cackle over it. But not 
Nixon. He needs his thugs, his delayed 
kick back at am abusive world. just as 
Heep, alter crawling to the top, must 
reveal at last how he hid his kicking, 
all along, inside his crawl. It was foolish 
for anyone to expect repentance over 
Watergate in Nixon's speeches. In his 
eyes. the world has a Watergate or two 
still coming to it. 
a 


“Sorry, but due to increased costs, I can no longer stop 
in jerkwater towns. Sincerely, Santa Claus.” 


MOST DANGEROUS BOOK 


(continued from page 136) 


gods’ [quoting Psalm 82]? 11 He [i 
d] called those to whom He gave 
His word gods—and you can't con- 
tradict the Scriptures—how can you 
say of him whom the Father has 
anctified and sent into the world, 
"You blaspheme! because I said, `1 
[The or 

1) 


not "the s 

In other words, the Gospel, or “good 
news,” that Jesus was trying to convey, de- 
spite the limitations of his tradition, was 
that we are all sons of God. When he uses 
the terms I am (as in “Before Abraham 
was, I am") or Me (as in “No one comes 
to the Father but by Me"), he is intend- 
to use them ame way as Krish- 
na in the Bhagavad-Gita: 


on. 


He who secs Me everywhere and 
sees all in Me: I am not lost to I 
nor is he lost to Me. The yogi who, 
established in oneness, worships Mc 
abiding I beings lives in Me, 
whatever be his outward life. 


Mc" Krishna means the 
once the basic self in us 
d in the universe, To know this is to 
enjoy eternal life, to discover that the 
fundamental “1 am” feeling, which you 
confuse with your superficial ego, is the 
ultimate reality—lorever and ever, amen. 

In this essential respect, then, the Gos- 
pel has been obscured and muflled al- 
most from the beg or Jesus wa 
presumably trying That our 
consciousness is the divine spirit, "the 
light which enlightens every one who 


And by this 
tman that 


comes into the world,” and which George 
Fox, founder of the Quakers, called the 
Inward Light. But the Church, still 


bound to the image of God as the King 
of kings, couldn't accept. this Gospel. It 
adopted a religion about Jesus inste: 
the religion of Jesus. It kicked I 
stairs and put him in the privileged and 
unique position of being the Boss's s 
so that, having this unique advantage 
life and example became useless to every- 
one else. The individual Christian must 
not know that his own “I am” is the one 
that existed before Abraham. In this w: 
the Church institutionalized and made a 
virtue of feeling chronic guilt for not 
being as good as Jesus. It only widened 
the alienation, the colossal difference, 
that monotheism put between 
and God. 

When I try to explain this to Jesus 
freaks and other Bible bangers, they in- 
variably reveal theological ignorance by 
saying, “But doesn’t the Bible say that 
Jesus was the only-begotten son of God? 
It doesn’t. Not, at least, according 10 
Eastern Orthodox and Ang) 
ations. The phrase "only- 
-lers not to Jesus the m 


man 


Catholic, 


begotten son” 


but to the Second Person of the Trinity 
God the Son. who is said to have become 
incarnate in the man Jesus. Nowhere 


space. Furthermore, it is not generally 
known that God the Son is symbolized 
as both male and fen s Logos- 
Sophia, the Design and the Wisdom of 
God. based on the passage in Proverbs 
7 sdom of God speaks 


7-9, where the V 
as a woman. 

"But then,” they go on to argue, 
“doesn't the Bible say that there is no 
other name under heaven whereby men 
may be saved except the name of Jesu 
But what is the name of Jesus? J-F-S-U-S? 
Tesous? 4 Jehoshua? Or however 
else it may be pronounced? It is said that 
every prayer said in the name of Jesus 
will be granted, and obviously this 
doesn't mean that “Jesus” is a signature 
on a blank check. It means that prayers 
will be granted when made in the spirit 
of Jesus, and that spirit is, again, the Sec- 
ond Person of the "Trinity, the eternal 
God the Son, who could just as well 
have been incarnate in. Krishna, Buddha, 
Lao4zu or Ra a Maharshi as in 
Jesus of Naz 

It is amazing what both the Bible and 
the Church are presumed to teach but 
don't teach. Listening to fundamental 
ists, one would suppose that if there are 
living beings on other planets in this or 
other galaxies, they must wait for salva- 
tion until missionaries from earth arrive 
on spaceships, bringing the Bible and 
baptism. But if “God so loves the world” 
ind means it, He will surely send His son 
to wherever he is needed, and there is no 
difference in principle between a planet. 
circling Alpha Centauri and peoples as 
mote from lestine Ал. 30 as the 
Chinese or the Incas. 

Tt should be understood that the ex- 
pression “son of means “of the nature 
of.” as when we call someone a son of a 
bitch, and as when the Bible uses such 
phrases as "sons of Belial" (an alien 
god), or an. Arab cusses someone out as 
e-ben-kel-homa—"son of a donkey!" or 
simply "stupid?" Used in this way, “son 
of" has nothing to do with maleness or 
being younger than, Likewise, the Sec- 
ond Person of the Trinity, God the Son, 
the Logos-Sophia, refers to the basic pat- 
term or design of the universe, ever 

the inconceivable mystery 
as the galaxies shine out of 
how the great philosophers 
ol the Church have thought about the 
imagery of the Bible and as it appears to 
a modern student of the history and psy- 
chology of world religions. Call it intel- 
lectual snobbery if you will, but although 
the books of the Bible might have been 
"plain words for plain people" in the days 
of Isaiah and Jesus, an unedu ud 


emerging frou 
ol the Fathe 
space. This i 


uninformed reads 


today, 


person who them 
nd takes them as the literal Word 
of God, will become a blind and con- 
fused bigot- 

Let us look at this against the back- 
ground of the fact that all monotheistic 
ions have been militant. Wherever 
God has been idolized as the King or 
Boss-Principle of the world, believers arc 
agog to impose both their religion and 
their political rulership upon others. Fa- 
natica] believers in the Bible, the Koran 
and the Torah have fought one another 
for centuries without realizing that they 
ng to the same pestiferous club, that. 
they have more in common than they 
have against one another and that there 
simply no way of deciding which of 
their “unique” revelations of God's will 
is the true one. A committed believer in 
the Koran trots out the same arguments 
for his point of view as a Southern Bap- 
tist devotee of the Bible, and neither can 
listen to reason, because their 
sense of personal security and integrit 
depends absolutely upon pretending to 
follow an external authority. The very 
existence of this authority, as well as the 
sense of identity of its follower and true 
believer, requires an excluded class of 
infidels, heathens and sinners—people 
whom you can punish and bully so as to 
know that you are strong and alive. No 
gunmen, no reasoning. по contrary cvi- 
dence can possibly reach the 


bel 


whole 
ce 


ue bel 


who, if he is somewhat sophisticated, 
justifies and even glorifies his invincible 
stupidity as a “leap of fa 
of the intellect" He quotes the Roman 
lawyer and theologian Tertulli 
quia absurdum est, "I believe because it 
bsurd"—as if Tertullian had said some- 
thing profound, Such. pcople are, quite 
literally, idiots—originally a Greek word 
meaning an individual so isolated that 
you can't communicate with him. 

Oddly enough, there are unbelievers 
who envy them, who wish that they could 
have the serenity and peace of mind that 
come from “knowing” beyond doubt that 
you have the true Word of God 
in the right. But this overlooks the fact 
that those who supposedly have this peace 
within themselves are outwardly obstrep- 
crous 
of converts and followers to convince 
themselves of their continuing v 


ad are 


nd violent, st 


nding in dire necd 


just as much as they need outsiders to 
punish. 
Mindless belief in the literal truth of 


the Bible and furious zeal to spread the 
message lead to such w 
in the American Bible Belt, as pla 
with poisonous snakes and drinkin 
strychnine to prove the truth of Mark 
8, where Jesus is reported to have 
“They [the faithful] shall take up 
serpents: and if they drink any deadly 
thing, it shall noc hurt them." As recently 
s April 1973, two men (опе a pastor) 


lespread fol 


“Hey, I know! Let's split into couples and 
go to separale rooms!” 


279 


PLAYBOY 


280 


Newport, Tennessee, died in convulsions 
from taking large amounts of strychnine 
before a congregation shouting 
God! Praise God!" So they didn't have 
enough faith; but such barbarous congre- 
gations will go on trying these expe 
ments again and again to test and prove 
their lizing that by 
Chr is arrant spir 
ual pride. Me: the Government 
persecutes religious groups that use such 
relatively harmless herbs as peyote and 
marijuana for sacraments. 

What is to be done about the existence 
of millions of such dangerous people in 
the world? Obviously, they must not be 
censored or suppressed by their own 
methods. Even though it is impossible to 
persuade or argue with them in a reason 
able way, it is just possible that they 
be wooed and enchanted by a more 
tractive style of religion, which will show 
them that their unbending “faith” i 
their Bibles is simply an inverse expres- 
sion of doubt and terror—a frantic whis 
tling in the dan 

There have been other images of God 
than the Father-Monarch: the cosmic 
Mother: the inmost Self (disguised as all 
living beings), as in Hinduism; the inde- 
finable Tao, the flowing energy of the 
universe, as among the Chinese; or no 
image at all, as with the Buddhists, who. 
are not strictly atheists but who feel that 
the ultimate reality cannot be pictured 
in any w: nd, what is more, that not 
picturing it is a positive way of feeling it 
directly, beyond symbols and images. I 
have called this “atheism in the name of 


God"—a paradoxical 
pointing out something missed by 
learned Protestant theologians who have 


been talking about “death of God" theol- 
ogy and “religionless Christianity," and 
asking what of the Gospel of Christ can 
be saved if life is nothing more than a 
trip from the maternity ward to the crem- 
atorium. It is weird how such sophis- 
ticated В scholars must go on 
clinging to Jesus even when rejecting the 
basic principle of his teaching —the e 
се that he was God in the fesh 
ce he u 


Atheism in the name of God is an 
abandonment of all religious beliefs, 


duding atheism, which in practice is the 
stubbornly held idea that the world is a 
less mechanism. Atheism in the 
name of God is giving up the attempt to 
make sense of the world in terms of any 
fixed idea or intellectual system. lt is 
becoming ag. d and lay 
oneself open to reality as it is actually 
and directly felt, experiencing it without 
trying to categorize, identify or name it. 
This can be most easily begun by list 
ing to the world with closed eyes, in the 
same way that one can listen to music 
without asking what it says or means. 
"This is actu state of con 


as a chi 


sciousness in which the past and the fu 
h (because they cannot be 


nce between yourself and what 

you are hearing. There is simply uni 
. an 

h there is 


wh 
between self 
ing. between what you do 


nd other, or 


pens to you. Without losing command of 
civilized behavior, you have temporarily 
“regressed” to what Freud called the 
oceanic feeling of the baby—the feeling 
that we all lost in learning to m 
nections, but that we should ha 
ained as their necessary background, 
just as there must be empty white paper 
under this print—if you are to read it. 

When you listen to the world in this 
way, you have begun to practice what 
Hindus and Buddhists call meditation— 
a reentry to the real world, as distinet 
from the abstract world of words and 
ideas. IF you find that you can't stop 
naming the various sounds and thinking 
in words, just listen to yourself doing 
that as another form of noise, a meaning. 
less murmur like the sound of traffic. 1 
won't argue for this experiment. Just try 
it and see what happens, because this is 
the basic act of faith—of being unreserv- 
edly open and vulnerable to what is true 
nd real. 
Certainly this is what Jesus himself 
must have had in mind in that famous 
n the Sermon on the Mount— 
upon which one will seldom hcar any. 
thing from Which of you by 
thinking can sure to his height? 
And why arc you anxious about clothes? 
Look at the flowers of the field, how they 
grow. They neither labor nor spin; and 
yet I tell you that even Solomon in all his 
splendor was not arrayed like any one of 
them. So if God so clothes the wild grass 
which lives for today and tomorrow is 
burned, shall He not much more clothe 
you, faithless ones? . . . Don't be anx- 
ious for the future, for the future will 
take care of itself. Suflicie 
are its troubles." Even the most devout 
Christians can't take this. They feel that 
such advice was all very well for Jesus, 
being the Boss's son, but this is no wi 
dom Гог us practical and lesser-born 
mort 

You can, of course, take these words 
in their allegorical and spiritual sense, 
which is that you stop dinging in terror to 
a rigid system of ideas about wh: 
happen 10 you after you die, or as to 
vhat, exactly, are the procedures of the 
court of heaven, whereby the world is 
supposedly governed. Curiously, both 
science and mysticism (which might be 
called religion as experienced rather 
than religion as written) arc based on 
perimental attitude of looking di 
at what is, of attending to life itself 
from а book. 
The scholastic theologians would mot 


L to the day 


ls 


will 


look through Galileo's telescope, and 
Billy Graham will not experiment with a 
psychedelic chemical or practice yog, 
Two eminent historians of science, Jo- 
seph Needham and Lynn White, hi 
pointed out the surprising fact that 
both Europe and Asia, science arise 
from mysticism, because both the mystic 
and the scientist are types of people who 


want to know directly, for themselves, 
rather than to be told what to believe. 
And in this sense they follow the ad- 


vice of Jesus to become 
dren,” to look at the world with open, 
clear and unprejudiced ey 
d never seen it before. 
it that an astronomer must look at the 
sky and a yogi must attend to the imme- 
diately present moment, as when he con- 
centrates on a prolonged sound. Years 
and years of book study may simply fos- 
ze you in fixed habits of thonght—so 
any perceptive person will know 
advance how you will react to any situa 
tion or idea. Imagining yourself reliable, 
you become merely predictable and, alas, 
boring. Most sermons are tedious. One 
knows in advance what the preacher 
going to say, however dressed up in fanc 
language. Going strictly by the book, he 
will have no original ideas or exp 
ences, for which reason both he and 
his followers become rigid and easily 
hocked personalities who cannot swing, 
wiggle, lilt or dance. 

In this connection it should be noted 
u the blacks of the South swing and 
wiggle quite admirably, even in church— 
but this is because the preacher. starting 
from the Bible in deference to his white 
overlords, very soon reverts to the 
rhythms and incantations of some old- 
time African religion, and there is no 
knowing at all what he is going 10 say. 
This is perhaps one of the principal roots 
of conflict between whites and blacks in 
the American South—that the former go 
by the Book and the latter by the spirit, 
ich, like the wind, as Jesus put 
blows where it wills, and you can't tell 
where it comes from or where it's ро 

Thus, we reach the seeming p 
that you cannot at once idolize the Bible 
of Jesus. He twit- 
today he would twit 
the fundamentalists: “You search the 
Scriptures daily, for in them you think 
you have life.” The religion of Jesus was 
to trust life. both as he felt it in himself 
and as he m. Most of us 
would feel that this was a ridiculous gam- 
bic—to the Jews a stumbling block and 
to the Greeks foolishness—but, come to 
К of it, is there any real alt 
Basically, no human community сап 
exist that is not founded on mutual trust 
as distinct from law and its enforcement. 
‘The alternative to mutual trust, which is 
indeed a risky gamble, is the security of 
the police state. 

8 


aw it around h 


native? 


Hame (continued from page 137) 


drinks, provided he follows the four basic 
principles explained here. 

1. The higher the proof, the brighter 
the flame. Most. spirits. even low-proof 
cordials, will ignite under proper condi- 

ions. But the bonded bourbons and such 

ts as Wild Turkey (101 
proof) and green Chartreuse (110 proof) 
give bluer, longer-lasting flames. There 
are also 151-proof rums. Stand back when 
you light them. 

Warm the liquor before flaming. 
Warming vaporizes the alcohol and it's 
actually the vapors that ignite. To warm. 
pour the liquor into a small receptacle, 
such as a butter melter or a metal measur- 
ing cup, and set at the back of the range 
or over a pilot light or hold briefly over 
low heat or a candle. 

3. Take sensible precautions. Be care- 
ful about ties, long hair and loose gar- 
ments and keep flammable decorations 
out of the way. Refrain from adding 
i tly from the bottle to a flam- 


liquor di 


4. Save your antique crystal punch 
bowl for another occasion. While its 
highly unlikely, hot punches have been 
known to crack crystal. Instead, use an 
attractive heatproof bowl that you've 
warmed before filling. 


With this succinct briefing, and the 
tested recipes that follow, your forthcom- 
ing flambé party is bound to be a flaming 
success. 


NORTHERN LIGHTS 
(Serves 20) 


(Dim the lights before igniting the 
punch and youl have a mini aurora 
borealis.) 

1 orange 

J lemon 

14 cup suga 

1 cup water 

3-in. cinnamon stick 

1 bottle (fifth) port wine 

1 bottle (fifth) Gallo Hearty Burgundy 

or other full-bodied red table wi 

1 ozs. 151-prool Puerto Rican rum 

Remove zest (outer rind) in a spiral 
from the orange and lemon and place 
in a large enamel pan. Add sugar, water 
and cinnamon stick and bring to boil. 
Add wines and heat just to the simmer. 
Taste for sweetness and add more sugar. 
if necessary. Pour hot wine into 2 
quart punch bowl. Warm rum by pouring 
into a preheated measuring cup. 
rum on surface of punch by pouring 
slowly over the back of a large spoon. 
Ignite with longsstemmed match, then 


stand back and admire the leaping blue 
lights. Ladle the flaming punch into 
small punch cups. 


ITALIAN SALUTE 


potion is alleged to 
overtones, But then, 
the hell doesn't, in Italy? The drink 
be made with Galliano, Izarra, Cor- 
Médoc, Benedictine, Southern Com 
fort or any high-proof liqueur 

Rinse liqueur glasses in hot water and 
quickly wipe dry. Fill almost to the top 
with Sambuca Romana or Sambuca Itali- 
ano and float an espresso coffee bean in 
each glass. Dim lights, ignite each glass 
and raise in toast. Blow out flames. Let 
the glass cool for a moment and then 
slowly sip the liqu 


FLAMING HOLIDAY SOUR 


(No shaking or bl 
make this holiday sou 
and wide straw.) 

114 ozs. 100-proof bourbon 

1 small scoop lemon sherbet (about y; 

cup) 

34 oz. lemon juice 

Warm 1% 02. bourbon. Scoop the lem- 
on sherbet into a 7-oz. wine goblet or a 
6-7.02. old fashioned glass. Add lemon 
juice. Indent top of sherbet to form a hol- 
low and add remaining ounce of bourbon, 


ing required to 
Serve with spoon 


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unexpected pictures, 


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The fast shutter speed con take action-stopping pictures in bright sunlight. There's a 
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281 


PLAYBOY 


282 


filling hollow. Ignite the warmed 1% oz. 
bourbon and add to s. When flames 
subside, stir drink with spoon, then sip 
through straw. 


SPICED CHRISTMAS ALE 


8 ozs. ale 
whole cloves 

2 allspice berries 

1 tablespoon brown sugar 

1 pat butter 

1% oz. whiskey (86 proof) 

1 small sugar cube 

Simmer ale with spices and brown 
sugar for 3 minutes. Strain into mug and 
add butter pat. Float about two thirds of 
the whiskey on top. Place the sugar cube 
in a teaspoon and pour over it the re- 
maining whiskey. Hold spoon so that 
bottom touches ale. Ignite and then 
gently lower into brew. The whiskey on 
the surface should catch and flame. Stir 
and sip when flames go out. 


IRISH COFFEE BLAZER 


(There's a lovely Irish custom of plac- 
ing lighted candles in the window on 
Chrisumas Eve, as a sign of welcome. 
Yowll find this flaming drink equally 
inviting.) 

1/4 ozs. Irish whisky, warmed 

1 teaspoon sugar 

Hot black coflee 

Lightly whipped cream 

Rinse 7-07. Irish-coffee glass with just 
enough whisky to moisten inside thor- 
oughly. Add sugar to the glass and ro- 
es 10 sides. Pour 


tilt to ignite. As sugar starts to melt, add 
hot coffee and more sugar, if desired. Top 
with whipped cream. 


COGNAC A L'ORANGE 
(Serves two) 


(A favorite at Brennan's, Antoine's and 
other New Orleans hostelries, known as 
Orange Brulot. As cognac flames, it re- 
leases the orange fragrance that subtly 
perfumes the drink.) 

1 thin-skinned orange 

2 small sugar cubes 

З ozs. cognac, warmed 

Scrub orange, then soak in hot water 
for about 5 minutes. Using a sharp po 
ed knife, cut around the center of the 
orange just through the peel. Insert a 
thin spoon handle betwen the peel and 
the meat. Work the handle all the way 
around to separate them. Gently roll each 
peel half back so that it is inside out, Cut 
the 2 peel "cups" off at the being 
very careful. not to tear or puncture. Set 
cach cup into a sherbet glass or round. 
bowled wineglass. It should be a snug fit. 
Place a sugar cube and 11% ozs. warmed 
cognac in cach. Ignite. Blow out the 
flame when it starts to flicker. (Tradition 
ally, the cups are not detached from the 
fruit. The top half holds the cognac and 
the bottom serves as a base. But that's a 
lite tricky, since the thing tends to be 
ppy) 

Now that the subject of flaming drinks 
has been properly illuminated, yon may 
fire when ready, Gridley! 


“No, damn il! I said Zippo!” 


THE SPREE 


(continued from page I61) 
a shout to stop the crime and then he 
saw daylight in the room and heard 
bare feet running past his room and the 
shouts of his three grandchildren and his 
daughter-indaw calling “Ssh! Don't wake 
Grandpa. 

The old man got out of bed and stood 
looking indignanúy at the mirror over 
the washbasin and at his empty gums. It 
was terrible to think, as he put his teeth 
in to cover the horror of his mouth, that 
12 or 14 hours of this London daylight 
were stacked up meaninglesly waiting 
for him. He pulled himself together. As 
he washed, listening to the noises of the 
house, he made up a specch to say to his 
son, who must be downstairs by now. 
am not saying Lam ungrateful. But 
old and young are not meant to be to- 
gether. You've got your life. I've got 
minc. The children are sweet—you're too 
sharp with them—but I can't stand the 
noise. I don't want to live at your cx- 
pense. I want a place of my own. Where I 
can breathe. Like Frenchy.” And as he 
said this, speaking into the towel and lis- 
tening to the tap running, he could see 
and hear Frenchy, who was his dentist 
but who looked like a rascally prophet in 
his white coat and was 70 if he was a d: 
saying to him as he looked down into his 
mouth and as if he were actually tink- 
ering with a property there: 

“You ought to do what I've done. Get 
a house by the sea, It keeps you young. 

Frenchy vanished, leaving him tem 
years younger. The old man got into his 
shirt and trousers and was carefully 
spreading and puffing up his sparse 
blackand-gray hair across his head when 
in came his daughter-in-law, accusing 
him—why did she accuse? 

“Grandpa! You're up!” 

She was like a soft Jersey cow with eyes 
too big and reproachful. She was bring- 
ing him tea, the dear sweet tiresome 
wom: 

“Of course I'm up," he said. 

One glance at the tea showed him it 
as not like the tea he used to make for 
wife when she was alive, but had too 
much milk in it, always tepid, left stand 
ing somewhere. He held his hairbrush up 
and he suddenly said, asserting his 1 
10 live, to get out of the house, in air he 
could breathe: 

"I'm going 


in to London to get my hair 


cut. 
“Are you sure you'll be all righ 
“Why do you say that?" he said severe- 
Jy. “I've got several things I want to do." 
And. when she had gone, he heard her 
say on the stairs: 
“He's going to get his hair cut!” 
And his son saying, “Not again!” 
This business, this defiance of the hair- 
cut! It was not a mere scissoring and 


clipping of the hair, for the old man. It 
was a ceremonial of freedom; it had the 
whill of orgy, the incitement of a ritual. 
As tlie ycars went by, leaving him in such 
financial mess that he was now down to 
a pension, it significd. 


not much more th 
a desire—but what desire? Lo be memora- 


ble in some streets of London or, at the 
least, as evocative as an incense. The de- 
sire would come to him, on summer d: 
like this, when he walked in his so 
urbai 
for his buttonhole: and then, already 
toxicuted, he marched out the garden 
gate on to the street and to the bus stop, 
upright and vigorous, carrying his weight 
well and pink in the face. The scents of 
the barbers had been arceping into his 
jostrils, his chest, even went down to his 
legs. To be clipped, oiled and perfumed 
was to be free. 

So, on this decent July morning in the 
sunshot and acid suburban mist, he 
stood in a short queue for the bus, and if 
anyone had spoken to him, he would 
gladly have said to put them im their 
place 

“Limes have changed. Before 1 retired, 
when Kate was alive—though I must 
honestly say we often had words about 
it—1 always took a cal 

The bus came 
down to his tem- 
ple—the most expensive of the big shops. 
‘There, reborn on miles of carpet. he 
paused and sauntered, sauntered and 
paused. He was inflamed by hall alter 
hall of women's dresses and hats, by 
cosmetics and jewelry. Scores of women 
were there. Glad to be cooled off. he 
passed into the echoing hall of provisions. 
He saw the game, the salmon and the 
cheese. He ate them and moved on to 
lose 20 years in the men's clothing depart- 
ment, where, among ties and brilliant 
shirts and jackets, his stern yet bashful 
pink face woke up to the loot and his 
s heard the voices of the rich, the 
grave chorus of male self-approval. He 
went to the end, where the oak stairs led 
down to the barbers; there, cool as clergy, 
they stood gossiping in their white coats. 
One сате lorward, seated him and 
dressed him up like a baby. And then— 
nothing happened. He was the only cus- 
tomer and the barber took a few steps 
back coward the group, saying 

“He wasn't at the staff meeting.” 

The old man tapped his finger 
bly under his sheet. Barbers did not cut 
hair, it seemed. They went to staff meet- 
ngs. One called back: 
“Mr. Holderness seconded i 
was Holderness? 

“Where is Charle: 
to call the barbes 
ously, the man beg: 
with his scissors 

"Charles?" said the barber. 

"Yes. Charles. He shaved me for 
twenty years. 


whooshed him 


nd 
Knightsbridge, to 


" Who 


said the old m; 
to order. Obsequi. 
п that pretty music 


“He retired.” Another emptiness, an- 
other cavern, opened inside the old man. 

"Retired? He was a child!” 

“All the old ones have retired.” The 
barber had lost his priestly look. He 
looked sinful, even criminal, certainly 
hypocritical. 

And although the old man's head was 
being washed with lotions and oils and 
there was a tickling freshness about the 
cars and his nostrils quickened, there was 
something uneasy about the experience. 
In days gone by, the place had been baro- 
nial; now it seemed not quite to gleam. 
One could not be a sultan among a mis 
erable remnant of men who held staff 
meetings. When the old man left, the 
woman at the desk went on talking as she 
took his money and did not know his 
name. When he went upstairs, he paused 
to look back—no, the place was a palace 
of pleasure no longer. It was the place 
where—except for the stafi—no one was 
known. 

And that was what struck him when he 
stepped out the glancing swing doors of 
the shop, glad to be out in the July sun 
that here he was cool, scented and light- 
headed as а su extraordinary in 
way, sacred almost, ready for anythin, 
but cut off from expectancy, unknow. 
nowadays to anybody, free for nothing, 
liberty evaporating ont of the tips of his 
shoes. He dissembled leisure. His walk be 
сапе slower and gliding. For an hour, 
shop windows distracted him, new shops 
where old had been shocked him. Bur, he 
said, pulling himself together, I must not 
fall into that trap: Old people live in the 
past. And I am not old! Old I am not! So 
he stopped gliding and stepped out will 
fully, looking so stern and with mouth 
turned down, so corrupt and purposeful 
with success that he was unnoticeable. 
Who notices success? 

Je was always—he didn't like to admit 
it—so often like this on these days when 
he made the great stand for his haircut 
and the exquisite smell. He would set out 
with a vision, it declined into a rambling 
dream. He fell back, like a country hare 
on his habitual run, to the shops that had 
been his customers years ago, to see what 
nd where he knew no 
one now: to a café that had changed its 
decor. where he ate a sandwich and 
drank a cup of coffee; but as the dream 
consoled, it dissolved into al melan. 
holy. He with his appetite for everything, 
who could not pass a shop window, or an 
estate agent's, or a fine house without 
greed watering in his mouth, could buy 
nothing. He hadn't the cash. 

There was always this moment when 


the bottom began to fall out of his hair- 
cut days. He denied that hi 


s legs were 
tired, but he did slow down. It would 
occur to him suddenly in Piccadilly that he 
knew no one now in the city. He had been 
a buyer and seller, not a man for friends: 
He knew buildings, lifts, offices, but not 


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PLAYBOY 


people. Espeaancy was dead. There 
would be nothing for it but to re 
home. He would drag his way to the inev- 
itable bus stop of defeat and stand. as so 
many Londoners did, with surrender on 
their faces. He delayed it as long as he 
could, stopping at a street corner or gaz- 
irl and looking around 
th that dishonest look a dog has whe 
he is pretending not to hear his master's 
whistle. There was only one straw to 
clutch at. There was nothing wrong with 


his teeth, but he could ring up his den- 
tist. He could ring up Frenchy. He could 
ving him and say: “Frenchy? How's 


tricks?” Sportily, and (a man for smells) 
he could almost smell the starch in 


Frenchy's white coat, the keen, chemical, 
hygi 


smell of his room. The old gentle- 
» considered this and then went down 
couple of disheartened side sweets. In 
short cul-de-sac, standing outside a uri 
nal and a few doors from а dead-looking 
pub, there was a telephone box. An old- 
ish, brown motor coach was parked 
empty at the curb by it, its doors closed, 
all crowd waiting beside it. There 
as a man in the telephone box, but he 
me out in a temper, shouting some- 
thing to the crowd. The old man went 
into the box. He had thought of some- 
thing 10 say: 

“Hullo, Frenchy! Where is that house 
you were going to find me, you old 
scal 

For Frenchy came up from the sea 
every day. It was uue that Frenchy was a 
rascal, especially with the women, one 
after the other, but looking down into the 
old man’s mouth and chipping at a tooth, 
he seemed to be looking into your sou 

The old man got out his coins. He w 
tired, but eagerness revived him as he 


a 


“Hullo, Frenchy, i 

But the voice that replied was not 
Frenchy's. It was a child's. The child was 
calling out: "Mum, Mum." 

The old man banged down the tcle- 
phone and stared at the dial. His heart 
thumped. He had, he realized, dialed not 
Frenchy's number but the number of his 
old house, the onc he had sold after Kate 
had died. 

The old gentleman backed out of the 
box and stared, tottering with horror. 
it. His legs went weak, his breath | 
gone and sweat bubbled on his face. He 
steadied himself by the brick wall. He 
edged away from the bus and the crowd, 
not to be seen. He thought he was going 
to faint. He moved to a doorway. Ther 
was a loud laugh from the crowd as a 
young man with long black hair gave the 
back of the bus a kick. And then, sudden- 
ly, he and a few others rushed toward the 
old man, shouting and laugh 
use us,” someone said 
him aside. He saw he was standing in the 


284 doorway of the pub. 


That's nue," the old man murmured 
10 himself. “Brandy is what I need.” 

And, at that, the rest of the litle 
crowd pushed into him or past him. One 
was a young girl with fair hair 
ised as her young man pulled her 
id sweetly to the old 


“After you 

There he was, being elbowed, travel- 
ing backward into the hule bar. It was 
the small private bar of the pub and the 
old man found himself against the count- 
er. The young people were stretching 
their arms across him and calling out or- 
ders for drinks and shouting. He was 
wedged among them. The wild young 
man with the piratical look was on one 
side of him. the girl and her young n 
on the other side. The wild young 
man said to the others: “Wait a minute. 
Whats yours, Dad?” The old man was 


"Fhat's right,” said the girl to the old 
man, studying his face. “You have one. 
You ought to have got on the first bus. 


“You'd have been halfway to bloody 
Brighton by now,” said the wild y 
man. * 


ng 
he first bloody cuting this firm's 
1 in its whole bloody history and they 
bloody forgot the driver. Are you the 
drive 

Someone called out 
drive 


No, he’s not the 


had a shock," the old n 
it crowded a 
heard him. 
Drink it up, then,” the girl said to 
him and, startled by her kindness, he 
drank. The brandy burned and in a mi 
ute fire went up into his head and his 
face lost its hard, bewildered look and it 
loosened into a smile. He heard their 
young, voices flying about him. They 
were going to Brighton. No, the other 
side of Brighton. No. this side—well. 
bloody Hampton’s mansion, estate, some- 
thing. The new chai "d thrown 
the place open thrown it, 
laughed the w 
th 
he first bus.” The young girl leaned 
down to smell the rose in the old man's 
buttonhole and said to her young man, 
t's lovely. Smell it.” His arm was round 
waist and there were the two of them 
ing to the rose, 

garden?” said the gi 
1 himself, to his as 


an began, 
nst the bar, no one 


Bloody 
4 man, to the works and 
office and, as usual, “the works ger 


tonishment, tell a lie- 

“I grew it,” he said bashfully. 

“We shan't bloody start for hours, 
someone said. "Drink up." 

The old man looked at his watch: a 
ic look, Soon they'd be gone. Some- 
one said: "Which department are you in?” 

He's in the works," someone said. 


“No, Гус retired,” said the old man, 
not to cause a fuss. 

“Have another, Dad,” 
n. "My turn." 

Three of them bent thei 
him say again, “I have ret 
of them said: 

“Te was passed at the meet 
retired entitled to come. 
you've made a mistake." the old man 
began to explain to them. "I was just 
telephoning to my dentist." 

“No,” said one of the bending young 
men, turning to someone in the crowd. 
Chat bastard Fowkes talked a lot of 
bull. but it passed.” 

'ow're all right," the girl said to him 
kindly. 


id the young 
n 


heads to hear 
d," and onc 


ig. Anyone 


another, handing 
the old man another drink. 

If only they would stop show 
old man thought, I could explain. 
“A mistake,” he began again. 

“It wo 
said. “Drink up.” 

"Then someone shouted from the door. 
"He's here. The dr 

The gil pulled the old man by the 
arm and he found himself being hustled 
to the door. 

“My glass.” he said. 

He was pushed, holding his half-empty. 
glass, into the street. They rushed round 
and he stood there, glass in hand, trying 
to explain, trying to say goodbye, and 
then he followed them, still holding his 
glass, to explain. They shouted to him 

Come on” and he politely followed to 
the door of the bus, where they were 
pushing to get in. 
But at the door of the bu 
changed. A woman wea flowered 
dress with a red belt, a woman as stout as 
himself, had a foot on the step of the bus 
and was trying to heave herself up, while 
people ahead of her blocked the door. 
She ncarly fell. 

The old. man, all smiles and sadness, 
put on a dignified anger. He pushed his 
oward her. He turned forbiddingly 
on the youngsters. 

“Allow me, m," he said 
the woman's cool, fat elbow 
her up the step, putting hi 


g, the 


‚ everything 


nd took 
d helped 
own foot on 


the lower one. Fatal. He was shoved up 
nd himself pushed 


inside, the brandy 
spilling down his suit. He could not turn 
round. He was in. driven in deeply, to 


Ul the procession stopped. 


getting out," he said. 
He flopped into the seat behind the 
woman. 


Young people are always in a rush,” 
she turned to say to him. 

The last to get in were the young 
couple. 

“Break it up,” said the driver. 

‘They were stow, for they were 
and wanted to squeeze in united. 
The old man waited for them to be 
ted and then stood up, glass in hand, 


nlaced 


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PLAYBOY 


286 


as he moved 


as if offering a toast, 
forward to get out, 

Would you mind sitting down? 
the driver. He was counting the pas 
15 and one, seeing the old man with the 
Jass in his hand, said, "Cheers." 

For the first time in his adult life, the 
old man indignantly obeyed an order. 
He sar down. was about to explain his 
ass, heard himself counted, got up. He 
was too late. The driver pulled a bar and 
slammed the door, spread his arms over 
the wheel and off they went, to a noise 
bashed people's eyeballs. 

At every change of the gears, as the bus 
gulped out of the narrow streets, a 
change took place in the old man. Shak- 
en in the kidneys, he looked round in 
protest, put his glass out of sight on the 
floor and blushed, He was glad no one 
ng beside him, for his first idea 
mble to the window and jump 
at the first trafic lights. The 
girl who had her arm round her young 
man looked round and smiled. Then, he 
100 looked round at all these unknown 
people, belonging to a firm he had never 
oing to a destination unknown 
to him, and he had the inflated sensa- 
ms of an enormous human illegality. 

He had been kidnaped. He tipped back 
his hat and looked bounderish, The bus 
was hot and seemed to be frying in the 
packed traffic when it stopped ar the 
tralfic lights. People had to shout to be 
heard. Under cover of the general shout- 
ing. he too shouted to a couple of women 
across the gangway: 

Do we pass the Oval 
The woman asked her friend. who 
asked the man in front, who asked the 
young comple. Blocks of offices went by 
in lumps. No one knew except someone 
who said, "Must do.” The old man nod- 


ded. Ihe moment the Oval cricket 
ground came into sight. he planned to go 


to the driver and tell him to let him off. 
So he kept his eyes open, thinki 

What a lark, What a thing to tell them 
at home. Guess what? Had 
Cheek, my boy (he said to his son), that’s 
what you need. Let me give you а bit 
of advice: Youll get nowhere with- 
out cheek. 

His pink face beamed with shrewd fri- 
volity as the bus groaned over the 
‘Thames, which had never looked so wide 
d sly. The young girl—restless like 
ot out of her young 


free ride. 


Kate she 


was 


Three containers 
Sed. the bus slacked. then choked for- 
ward so suddenly thar the old man’s head 
nearly hit the back of the head of the ft 
lady in front. He studied it and noticed 
y the wor hair. gold 
gray in it, was darker as it came out 
of her neck like ! and li 
thought, as he had often donc, how much 
better ans head looks from be- 
hind, the face interferes with it in front. 


а wom 


And then his own chin fell forward and 
he began a voluptuous journey down cor- 
ridors. One more look at the power sta 
tion, which had become several jumping 
power stations, giving higher and higher 
leaps in the air, and he was asleep. 

А snore cime from him. The talking 
woman across the gangway was annoyed 
by this soliloquizing noise, which seemed 
10 offer a ri ative; but others 
mired it for its steadiness, which peace- 
fully mocked the unsteady recovery and 
spitting and fading energy of the bus and 
the desperation of the driver. Between 
their shouts at the driver, many glanced 
idmiringly at the sleeper. He was swing- 


ing pleasurably in some private barb 
shop that swerved through space, some- 
times in some airy corridor, at oth 


times cirding benefcently round а 
ket match in which Frenchy, the um 
pire in his white linen coat, was ollering 
him a plate of cold salmon, which his 
daughter-in-law was ying 10 stop him 
from. eating, so that he was off the bus, 
5 way home on foot at the tail 
of the longest funeral procession he had 
ever seen, going uphill for miles into 
fields that were getting grecner and cold- 
er and emptier as snow came on and he 
sat down, plonk, out of breath, waking 
up to hear the weeping of the crowds, all 
weeping for him, and then, still. waking, 
he saw himself outside the tall glass walls 
of a hospital. It must be a hospital, for 
inside two men in white could be clearly 
acen glass enclosed room, one of 
them the driver, getting ready to carry 
him in on a stretcher, He gasped, now 
fully awake. There was absolute silence. 

The bus had stopped: It was empty; he 
was alone in it, except for the woman, 
who, thank God, was still sitting in front 
of him, the hair still growing from the 
ck of ber neck. 

Where. he began. Then he saw 
that the hospital was, in fact, a garage. 
The passengers had got out, garage men 
were looking under the bonnet of the bus. 
Ihe woman turned round. He saw а 
d face, without ma 
We've broken down,” she sii 

How grateful he was for ıl 
He had thought he was dead. 
I've bee 
" He n 


mild 


we 


tion. “Quarter past thr 
ing 30 miles out, stuck fast in derelict 
country at a crossroads, with а few villas 
sticking out in helds, eating into the grass 
among a few trees, with a hoarding on 
the far side of the highway saying bla- 
nly, MogGaces, and the Gus dashing 
lis like birds. 20 at a time, still 
ip away Westward into space. 

d turned to study him 
ıd when he got up, flustered, she said in. 
a strict but lofty voice: 

й down.” 
He sat down. 
"Don't move, 


" she said. “I'm not going 


to move. They've made a mess of it. Let 
them put it right.’ 
She had now twisted round and he saw 
her wide full face, as meaty as an obsti- 
nate country girl's, and with a smile that 
made her look as if she were evaporating. 
"This is Hampton's doing." she said. 
nything to save money. I am going to 
tell him what I think of him when I see 
him. No onc in charge. Not cven the 
driver—listen to him. Treat you like cat- 
Че. They've got to send another bus. 
Don't you move until it comes 
Having said this, she was happy. 

When my husband was on the board, 
nothing like this happened. Do you 
know anyone here? I don’ 

She studied his gray hair. 

The old man dung for the moment to 
the fact that they were united in not 
knowing anybody. His secretiveness was 
ng back. 

"I've retired,” he said. 
The woman leaned farther 
ck of the seat 


over the 
and looked around 
nd then back at him 
as if she had captured him. Her full lips 
were the resting lips of a stout woman 
between 


1 
the empty bus 


you at the works 
п John." she said. “It was always a 
y in those days. Or were you in the 
office? 

1 must get out of this, the old man was 


thinking and he sat forward. nearer 10 
dy t0 get out once more. T must 
find out the name of this place, get a 


train or 
home. 
But, since his wife had died, he had 
never been as near to a strange woman's 
Tace. It was a wide, ordinary, babylike 
face damp in the skin, with big blue eyes 
under fair, skimpy eyebrows, and she 
studied him as a soft, plump child would 
study—for no reason, beyond an assump- 
tion that he and she were together in 
this: They weren't such fools, at their 
cs, to get olf the bus. But it was less the 


а bus or something, get back 


nearness of the face than her voice that 
kept him there. 
It was a soft, high voice that seemed to 


blow away like a child's and was far too 
young for her, even sounded so purely 
truthful as to be false. It came out on 
deep breaths drawn up from soft but 
heavy breasts that looked as though they 
could kick up a hullabaloo, a voice thar 
suggested that by some inner right she 
would say what suited her. It was the 
kind of voice that made the old man swell 
polite, ме desire 
10 knock the nonsense out of her head. 

T can smell your rose from here,” 
said. “There are not many left who knew 
the fum in John’s time. It was John's 
lifework.” 

He smiled complacendy. 
secret. 

She paused and then the childish voice 
went suddenly higher. She 


with pmensely in 


she 


He had his 


was not 


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simply addressing him. She was addressing 
a meeting. 

I told him that when he let Hampton 
flatter him, he'd be out in a year. I said 
to John, ‘He's jealous. He's been jealous 
all the time.” 

‘The woman paused. Then her chin 
and her lips stuck out and her eyes that 
had looked so vague began to bulge and 
her voice went suddenly deep, rumbling 
with prophecy. 

“He wants to kill you,’ T said. You,” 
said the woman to the old man, “must 
have seen it. And he did kill him. We 
went on a trip round the world, America, 
/' her voice sailed across countries. 

That's where he died. If he thinks he 
can wipe out that by throwing his place 
open to the staff and getting me down 
there, he’s wrong.” 

My God, she's as mad as Kate's sister 
used to get after her husband died, 
thought the old man, I'm sitting behind 
à madwoman. 

Dawson," she said and abruptly stood. 
up as the old man rose, too. "Oh," she 
said in her high regal style, gazing away 
out the window of the bus. "I remember 
your name now. You had that row, that 
terrible row—oh, yes.” she said eagerly, 
the conspirator. “You ring up Hampton. 
He'll listen to you. I've got the number 
here. You tell him there are twenty seven 
of his employees stranded on the Brigh 
ton read.” 

The old man sighed. He gave up all 
idea of slipping out. When a wor 
ders you about, what do you do? He 
thought she looked rather fine standing 
there prophctically. The one thing to do 
in such cases is to be memorable. When is 
a man most memorable? When he says 

No, I wouldn't think of it,” he said 
curly. “Mr. Hampton and | are not on 
speaking terms.” 

“Why?” said the woman, distracted by 
curiosity. 

Mr. Hampton and I,” he began and 
he looked very gravely at her for а lou 
time. “I have never heard of him, Who is 
he? Im not on the stall. I've never heard 
of the firm.” And then, like a conjurer 
waving a handkerchiet, he spread his lace 
into a smile that had often gor him an 
order in the old days. “I just got on the 
bus for the ride. Someone said, ‘Brigh 
ton,’ ‘Day at the sea,’ I said. п 

The woman's face went the color of 
liver with rage and unbelief. One for the 
law, all the rage she had just been feeling 
about Hampton now switched to the old 
man. She was unbelieving, 

"No one check?” she said, her voi 
throbbing, She was boiling up like the 
police. 

The old gentleman just shook his head 
atly. "No one checked"—it was a deh- 
radise. If he had wings, h 
would have spread them, taken to the air 
nd flown round her three times, sayi 
Not a soul! Not a soul!” 

She was looking him up and down. He 


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287 


PLAYBOY 


288 


stood with a plump man's dignity, but 
what saved him in her eyes were his 
smart, well-cut clothes. his trim hair and 
the jaunty rose: He looked like an old 
rip, a racing man, probably a Crook: at 
ny rate, a bit of a rogue on the spree, yet 
осет, too. She studied his shoes and 
he moved a foot and kicked the brandy 
glass and it rolled 
hesmiled slightly. 
“You've got a nerve,” she said, her smile 
spreading. 
Sick of sitt 


10 the gangway, and 


g at home,” he said. 
Weighing her up—not so much her char- 
acter but her body—he said: “Гус been 
living with my daughterindaw since my 
wile died." 

He burst out with confidence, for he 
saw he had almost conquered her. 

Young and old don't mix. Brighto 
would suit me. I thought I would have 
look round for a house.” 

Her eyes were still busily goi 
him 


g over 


pick it up. As she straightened, she 
leaned on the back of the seat and 
Tnughed out loud. 

"You just got on. Oh. she 
laughed loudly, helplessly. "Serves Hamp- 
ton right. she said. He sat 


down. She sat down on the scat oppo- 
site. He was astonished and even shy to 
see his peculiar case appreciated and his 
peculiarity grew in his mind from a joke 
to a poem, from a poem to a dogma 
"E meant to get off at the Ova 
dropped oll to sleep.” He laughed. 
‘Going to see the cricket?” she said. 
No," he said. "Ноте mean, my 
son's place.” The whole thing began to 
appear lovely to him. He felt as she 
laughed at him, as she still he!d the glass, 
twiddling it by the stem. that he was 
able. 
Years ago I did it once before,” he 


e was alive. I got a late train from 
London, went to sleep and woke up in 
Bath. I did. I really did. Stayed at the 
Royal. Saw a customer next day. He was 
so surprised to see me he gave me an 
order worth three hundred pounds. My 
wife didn't believe me.” 

“Well, can you blame hex?” the wom 
said. 

‘The driver walked in from the office 
of the garage and put his head into the 
bus and called out: 

“They're sending a new bus. Be here 
four o'clock.” 

The old man turned. “By the way, Fm 
getting off.” he shouted to the driv 

“Aren't you going on?” said the wom- 
an. "I thought you said you were having 
a wip to the 

She wanted him to stay. 


n 


aid the old тап, 
ngsters—we'd been having a 


То be frank,” 
“these you 


drink, they meant no harm—pushed me 
on when I was giving you а hand. I was 
in the pub. I had a bit of a shock. I did 
something foolish. Painful, really. 
What was that?” she said. 

"Well," said the old man, swanking in 
embarrassment and going very red. “I 
went to this telephone box, you know, 
where the bus suited from, to ring 


him up, but I got through to the wrong 
number. You know what I d 
the mumber of my old house, when 
Kate—when my wife—was alive. Some 
nswered, maybe a boy, 1 don't know. 
ve me a turn, doing a thing like that. 
1 thought my mind had gone. 

"Well, the number would 
changed.” 

“L thought, E really did th 
ond, it was my wile. 

The traffic on the main road sobbed 
or whistled as they talked. Containers, 
private cars, police cars, breakdown vans, 
cars with boats on their roofs—all sob- 
bing their hearts out in a panic to get 
somewhere else. 

"When did your wife die 
woman. “Just recently?” 

“Two years ago,” he said. 

“It was grief, That is what it was— 
grief,” she said gravely and looked away 
to the sky outside and to the 
derelict bit of country. 

That voice of hers, by turns childish, 
silly, passing to the higher notes of the 
and belligerent widow—all that 
rtners killing cach other!—had 
his wife's used to do after some 
tantrum, simply plain. 
ief. Yes, it was. He bl 
of tears before her understand 
ese two years he seemed, because of 
his loneliness, to be dragging an increas 
ing load of unsaid things behind him, 
things he had no one to te I. With his son 
and his daughter-in-law and their young 
friends, he sat with his mouth open ready 
to speak, but he could never get a word 
in. The words simply fell back down his 
throat. He had a load of what people call 
boring things that he cou 
had loved his wife; she had bored him 
had become a bond. What he needed was 
not friends, for since so many friends had 
died he had become a stranger: He need- 


have 


‚for а sec 


" said the 


ked awa 


whose face was as Бап 
time having worn all expre 
Irom it. Because of that she looked now, 
if not as old as he was, full of life vou 
could see, but had joined his lonely race, 
nd had lost the look of going nowhere 
He lowered his eyes and became shy. 
Grief—w i? A craving. Yet not 
for a face or even a voice or even for love, 
but for a body. But dressed. Say. in a 
flowered dress. 

To get his mind off a thought so bold. 
he uttered one of the boring things, a 


wa 


sort of sample of what he would ha 
said to his wife. 
“Silly thing. Last 


e 


ight I had a dream 
about a dog,” he began, to test her out as 
a stranger to whom you could say any 
damn silly thing. A friend would never 
listen to "damn silly things. 

The woman repeated, going back 10 
what she had already said, as women do: 

"Remembering the telephone num- 
E” And then went off at 
"Dont mention 


alow 1 saw my husband walk across 
ing room clean through the elec 
uic fire and the mirror over the mantel- 
piece and stand on the other side of i 
hot looking at me, but saying something 
to me that 1 couldn't hear—asking for 
box of matches, I expect. 


the old man, 
He had no desi 
and's antics, but 
he did feel that warm, already possessive 
desire to knock sense into her. It w 
ighiful feeling. 

“Tt wasn't 
squaring up to him. “I y 


she 


said, 
acked my things 
ind went to London at once. I couldn't 
stand it. 1 drove into Brighton, left the 


the station 


d went up to London 
few days. That is why, when I heard 
about Hampton's party at the office, I 
took this bus. Saved the train fare,” she 
grinned. “I told Hampton I was coming 
to the party, but Im not. Im picking up 
the car at Brighton and going home 
to the bungalow. It's only seven miles 
away." 

She waited to see if he would laugh at 
their being in the same boat. He did not 
d that impressed her, but she sutked. 
husband would not have laughed, 
either. 

“I dread going back.” she said sul 

“L sotd my place,” he said. "I know the 
feeling. 

"You were right,” siid the woman. 
“Thats what I ought to do. Sell the 
ce. I'd get a good price, too. I'm not 
1 s forward to going bick 
there this evening. It's very isolated —but. 
the cat's there.” 
nothing. Earnestly, she said: 
“You've got your son and daughterin 


law waiting for you," giving him a pat on 
the knee. “Someone to talk t0. You're 
bium 


The driv 
and said: 
All out. The other bus is hei 
That's us,” said the woman. 
The crowd outside was indeed getting 
nto the new bus. The old man followed 
her out and looked back at the empty 
seats with regret. At the door he stepped 
past her and handed her out. She was 
stout but landed light as a feather. The 
wild young man and his friends were 


! in the door 


put his he 


shouting, full of new beer, bottles in 

their pockets. The others trooped in. 
“Goodbye,” said the old man, doing 

his memorable turn. 

You're not go 


* said the woman, 
And then she said. quietly, look 
round secretively, "I won't say anythi 
You can't give up now. You're worried 
about your daughter-indaw, 1 know,” she 
said. 

The old man resented 
doesn’t worry me,” he said. 

“You ought to think of them," she 
said. “You ought to.” 
here was a shout of vulgar laughter. 
from the wild young man and his friends. 
They had seen the two young lovers 
long way off walking slowly, with all 
time to themselves, toward the bus. They 
had been off on their own. 

‘Worn yourselves out up in the fields, 
bawled the wild young man and he got 
the driver to sound the horn on the 
wheel insistently at them. 

“You can ring from my place. 
woman. 

The old man put on his air of being 
offended. 

You 


ng 


that "That 


said the 


might buy my house" she 
tempted. 

The two lovers arrived and everyone 
laughed. The girl—so like his wife when 
smiled at him. 


she was young 
“No. I can get the train back from 


Brighton,” the old man said. 

"Get in," called the driver. 

The old man assembled 70 years of dig- 
He did this because dignity seemed 
to make him invisible. He gave a lilt to 
the woman's elbow, he followed her. he 
looked for a seat and when she made 
room for him beside her, invisibly he sat 
there. She laughed hungrily, showing all 
her teeth. He gave a very wide sudden 
nile. The busload chattered and some 
п to sing and shout and the young 
couple, getting into their clinch again, 
slept. The bus shook off the last of the 
towny places, whipped through short vil- 
lages. passed pubs with animal names. 
The Fox, The Red Lion, The Dog and 
Duck, The Greyhound and one with a 
new sign, The Dragon. It tunneled 
under miles of trees. breathed afresh in 
scampering fields and 30 miles of green- 
ery, public and private: until, slowly, the 
ald hills near the sea came up and, 
nder them. distant seams of chalk. Fa 
ther and farther the bus went and the 
bald hills grew taller and nearer 

The woman gazed disapprovingly at 
the young couple and was about to say 
something to the old man when, sudden- 
ly, at the sight of his spry profile, she 
began to think—in exquisite panic—ot 
criminals. A man like this was just the 
Lind, outwardly respectable, who would 
go down to Hampton’ garden р 


beg: 


case the place—as she had read—pass as 
a member of the staff, steal jewelry or 
plan a huge burglary. Or come to her 
house and bash her. The people who 
lived only a mile and a half from where 
she lived had had burglars when they 
were away: Someone had been watching 
the house. They believed it was someone 
who had heard the house was for sale and 
had called. Beside her front door, behind 
a bush, she kept an iron bar. She alwa 
picked it up before she got her key 
out—in case. She saw herself now sud- 
ting out with it passionately, so 
t raced, then, having bashed 
, she calmed down; or. rather, 
o one of her exalted moods. 
as wearing a heavy silver ring with 
a large brown stone in it, a stone that 
looked violet in some lights, and she said 
neel, faraway voice: 
n India, an Indian 
prince gave this ring to me, when my hus- 
band died. It's very rare. It's one of those 


rings they wear for protection. He loved 
my husband. He gave it to me. They be- 


lieve in magic.” 

She took it off 
man. 

“ The people down 
the road were burgled.” 

The old man looked at the ring. It was. 
very ugly and he gave it back to her 

What fools women are, he thought and 


ad gave it to the old 


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283 


PLAYBOY 


290 


felt a huge excess of strength; but aloud. 
he said: 

“Very nice." And, not to be outdone, 
he said: “My wife died in the Azores." 

She took a deep breath. The bus had 
broken through the hills and now cliffs 
of red houses had built up on cither side 
and the city trees and gardens grew thick- 
er and richer, The sunlight scemed to 
splash down in waves between them and 
over them. She grasped his arm. 

^I can smell the sea already!" she said. 
“What are you going to tell your daugh- 
terin law when you ring up? I told the 
driver to stop at the stati 

“Tell them?” said the old man. A bril- 
liant idea occurred to him. 

"П tell them I just dropped in on the 
Canary Islands,” he said. 

The woman let go of his arm and, after 
one glance, choked with laughter. 

“Why not?” he said, grinning. “They 

many questions. ‘Where have you 
“What are you doing?’ Or I might 
say Boulogne. Why not?" 

“Well, it's nearer,” she said. “But you 
anust explain.” 

"Ehe wild young man suddenly shouted: 

"Where's he taking us now?" as the bus 
turned off the main road. 

“He's dropping us at the station,” the 
woman called out, bossing them. And, in- 
deed, speeding no more, grunting down 
side streets, the bus made for the station 
and stopped at the entrance to the sta- 
tion yard. 

“Here we are,” 


she said. "I'll get my 
She pulled him by the sleeve to the 
nd he helped her out 

‘They stood on the pavement, surprised 
to see the houses and shops of the city 
tand still, every window looking at 
them. Brusquely, cutting them off, the 
bus drove away downhill and left them 


ih it out of sight. The old man 
at the last of the bus and 


Tt was. the moment to be memorable, 
but he was so taken aback by her heavy 
look that he said: 

"You ought to have stayed on, gone to 


she said, shaking brightness 
onto her face. “I'll get my car. It was just 
seeing one's life drive off. Don't you feel 
that sometimes?" 

"No," he said. "Not mine. Theirs." 
And he straightened up, looked at his 
watch and then down the long hill. He 
pur out his hand. “I'm going to have a 
look at the sea." 

And, indeed, in a pale-blue wall on this 
July day, the sea showed between the 
houses, Or the sky. Hard to tell which. 

She said: "Wait for me to get my car. 
Till drive you down, 1 tell you what—I'll 
get my car. We'll drive to my house and 
have a cup of tea or a drink and you can 
telephone from there and YII bring you 
back in for your t 

He эш hesitated. 

"I dreaded that journey. You made 
me laugh, 


And that is what they did. He admired 
her managing arms and knees as she 
drove out of the city into the confusing 
lanes. 

"It's nice of you to come. I get nervous 
going back," she said as they turned into 
the drive of one of the ugliest bungalows 
he had ever seen, on top of the downs 
close to a couple of ragged firs torn and 
bent by the wind. A cat raced them to the 
door. She showed him the iron bar she 
kept behind the bush by the door. A few 
miles away, between a dip in the downs, 
was the pale-blue sea shaped like 
her lower 


‘There were her brass Indian objects on 
the wall of the sitting room and on the 
mantelpiece and, leaning against the mir 
ror he had walked through. was the pho- 
tograph of her husband. Pull down a few 
walls, reface the front, move out the fur- 
niture, that’s what you'd have to do, he 
thought, when she went off to another 
room and came back with the tea tray, 

ag a white dress with red poppies 


ow telephone,” she said. “FIL get 
the number.” But she did not give him 
the rument until she heard a child 
answer it. That killed her last suspicion. 

“I want twenty-one thousand pounds 
for the house,” she said grandly after he 
had spoken to his daughter-in-law. 

The sum was so preposterous that it 
his head and made 
him spill his tea in his saucer. 

“IE I decide to sell,” she said, noticing 
his shock. 

“If anyone offers you that,” he said 
Т advise you to jump at it.” 

‘They regarded each other with disap- 
pointment. 

“PII show you the garden. My husband 
worked hard in it,” she said. “Are you a 
gardener?” 

“Not any longer,” he said as he fol- 
lowed her sulking across the lawn. She 
was sulking, too. A thin film of doud 
came over the late-afternoon sky. 

“Well, if you're interested, let me 
know.” she said. “I'll drive you to the 
station.” 

And she did, taking him the long way 
round the coast road, and there, indeed, 
was the sea, the real sea, all of it, spread 
out like the skirt of some sly and lazy old 
landlady with children playing all along 
the fringes on the beaches. He liked being 
with the woman in the car, but he was 
sad his day was ending. 

“I feel better,” she said. “I think FII go 
to Hampton's, after all,” she said, watch- 
ing him. “I feel like a spree.” 

But he did not rise. Twenty-one thou- 
sand! The ideas women have! At the sta- 
tion he shook hands and she 

“Next time you come to Brighton . ..” 
and she touched his rose with her r- 
The rose was drooping. He got on the 
tr 


"Who is this ladyfriend who keeps 
ringing you up from Brighton?” 
daughter-in-law said in her lowing voice, 
several times in the following weeks. 
Always questions. 

“A couple I met at Frenchy's,” he said 
on the spur of the moment 

“You didn't say you'd seen Frenchy. 
How is he?" his son said. 

“Didn't I?" said the old man. “J might 
go down to see them next week, But I 
don't know. Frenchy's heard of a house.” 

But the old man knew that what he 
needed was not a house. 


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au Back 


SNE з PLAYBOY 
From firstissue (Vol. 1. No.1) 


Webuy ald Comic, Movie & 10 present issues. Send 
Pulp maguier Toy Wim $1.00 for complete price 
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Statement ot ownership, management and 
(Act of August 13. 1070: Seron 3085. y 
United states Cude): 1. Title of publication: PLAYBOY 
2. Date of ling: September 14, 1971. 3, Frequenes 
of Issue: Monthly. 4, Location of known осо of 
publication: 919 N. Aticilgun Ave.. Chiengo, Cook 
County, I. 00511 5, Location ol 

or general business piires of no p 

Michigan А 

9. Names 

managing editor 


und addresses of publisher, cd 
se and Editor, Hugh M. 
key Cac, HL. 60611: 
250 N. Clovelund, 
lay boy Enterprises. 
Chicago, 11, Names and 
owning оғ holding one 
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Townes 111. 45 London Wl 
England; Arthur Paul, 175 E. Delaware 
IS Known bondholders, mortgagecs. 
security hold dng 


$ For optional 
Tishers mailing at the regular rates 


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тышы for p 
пег ak suri rate. T 


Dess Mauger. 
Average, ве cot 


copies. 
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culation. 6 
po 
nd other t 


D. ree dit 
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copies. 45.570. C) Coples distributed 
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prioren. 


date: A. Total no, copies 
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Sampion Жеми. А. 


SEX SIARS OF 1973 

(continued from page 214) 
whatsoever; although there were bed 
scenes in both The French Connection 
and Scarecrow, the act seemed purely 
perfunctory, as if he did it because it was 
there. (Robert Duvall, who finally 
achieved full stardom this year as the 
angry cop in Badge 373, gives off much 
the same aura—indubitably male but 
essentially sexless.) And though Peter 
ich began as a low-voltage romantic 
lead in films like Elephant Walk and The 
Nun's Story, he has now matured into 
the eternal “other man," the one who 
doesn't get the girl—the Ralph Bellamy 
of our day. 

Contrast these with such stars as Jim 
Brown, Michael Caine, James Coburn 
Lee Marvin, Steve McQueen, Robert 
Mitchum and Richard Rounduce. Even 
though they may vary widely in age, race 
and national origin, their mere presence 
in a picture is enough to produce an erot- 
ic tingle—a promise of things to come. 
With the possible exception of McQueen, 
whose performance in The Getaway pro- 
vided a welcome restorative to а slipping 
career, all of these men have been in 
what the airlines would describe as а 
holding pattern. Nothing they did in 
1978 either enhanced or blackened their 
reputations; their studios provided them 
with staple fare that neither displeased 
mor distressed their many fans. 

It is almost axiomatic that а rez 
star must be sexy ollscrcen as well as on. 
His exploits, as duly reported in the gos- 
sip columns and fan magazines, become 
part of the charisma, part of the allure. 
Certainly. The Getaway didn't suffer 
when word began to leak from the loca- 
tion for the film that the love scenes 
between McQueen and Ali MacGraw 
weren't all taking place in front of the 
camera: the public went to the local 
Bijou to scc how much of the voltage had 
been recorded on celluloid. The two stars 
went through divorces and their eventual 
marriage to each other, soon after the pic 
ture went into release, was almost ant 
mactic. Leathery Lee Marvin—who had 
been sharing his Malibu pad so openly 
and so long with the same woman that 
last year she ofücially (but without sanc- 
tion of clergy) changed her name to 
Michelle Marvin—suddenly and impul- 
sively took off last spring and returned 
home wedded to a girl from his old home 
town. Michelle is currently suing for ali 
mony as his common-law wife. Similarly, 
it was no well-kept secret that Michael 
Caine, whose interviews invari i 
ated his affection for "the birds 
up light housekeeping with the exotic 
Shakira Baskh. And when they finally 
married earlier this year, no one was р 
ularly surprised that their baby arrived 
prematurely." Although big Jim Brown, 
hero of the Slaughter films, has been rela- 
tively quiet of late, he has frequently 


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PLAYBOY 


292 


made headlines in the past through 
penchant for pushing around women and 
cops, usually in that order. 

But it’s all part of the image, all part 
of the game. And it's a gamc—or even a 
e style—that many of the younger. not 
quite established stars can play, too, Den- 
nis Hopper, whose Last Movie told much 
about the drug culture in movicland, 
generally keeps himself well away from 
the film colony these days, living on a re 
mote ranch in New Mexico. But that 
doesn't mean he hasn't kept busy, quite 
apart from his starring role in the crit 
cally acclaimed Kid Blue. Di 
lovely Brooke Hayward 
producer Leland Hayward 
Margaret Sul 
Michelle Phillip 


orced from 
(daughter ol 
nd the latc 
he married doe-eyed 
(of the late Mamas and 
the Papas) early in 1972. It lasted about 
a week. Now he is married to Daria Hal- 
prin (of Zabriskie Point). After spl 
from Hopper, Michelle beg 
good deal of his Easy Rider 
Nicholson, who then began sceing 
Dunaway, who is also seeing Elliot 
Gould, who used to be married to Barbra 
Streisand. There were rumors, ni 
while—later denied—that Michelle was 
thinking of reuniting with her former 
husband, John Phillips (also of the late 


Mamas and the Papas); the dust has not 
yet settled, It’s fascinating to contemplate 
the Ronde that Arthur Schnitzler might 
have produced if he were alive and well 
nd living in Hollywood today. 
Popsinger-turned-actor Kris Kristof- 
ferson, whose films in 1973 include major 
roles in Blume in Love and Pat Garrett 
and Billy the Kid (he played Billy), 
made no secret of his attachment for fel- 
low singer Rita Coolidge. "I was on my 
way to Memphis to rehearse with my 
band and he was on his way to Nash 
ville,” Miss Coolidge explained. “I met 
him at the ticket counter. He wound up 
flying to Memphis, and after that we 
were flying back and forth across the 
country to see each other. It got a little 
ridiculous, so we just put our bands to- 
gether.” Obviously, it was more than the 
ot together. Rita worked 
in a small role, in Pat Garrett 
d shared the bill with him this past 
summer in a highly successful series of 
concert engagements before they tied the 
marital knot late in August. 
And so it gocs. David Carr 
been living with Barbara Seagull (nee 
Hershey) these past several years, and 
has a baby to prove it- but nothing else. 
Michael Sarrazin has been playing house 


ine has. 


“1 don't know a betler securilies-market prognosticator— 
when ihe moon is right." 


with lovely Jacqueline Bisset just about 
as long, although after her several public 
appearances this year with the likes ol 
Henry Kissinger and François Truffaut 
(her director on the French-made Day 
for Night), the Hollywood rumor mills 
have it that she and Sarrazin had broken 
up. Other splits have ar- 
riages of the Peter Fondas and the Rich- 
ard Roundtrees, although neither was 
е so spectacular as the on-again, off. 
again, on-again divorce of the Burtons 
Elizabeth was supported through her 
well-publicized ordeal by such Holl 
wood friends as Laurence Harvey and 
Peter Lawlord; but insiders placed the 
blame on fastrising Helmut (Ludwig) 
Berger, her costar in Ash Wednesday. 
Чо question about it, the sex stars play 
sexual games, and to the winner belong 
the spoils—and often the spoiled. С 
sider the of rugged, muscul 
Charles Bronson. Нар amied, Bro 
son and his wife saw a good deal ol 
televisions blond, intellectual David 
(The Man from U.N.C. L. E.) McCallum 
d his wife, Jill. Before long. Bronson 
was seeing more of Jill than of David. To. 
day, Bronson is married to Jill. Tho 
his performances as a paid killer-diller 
The Mechanic and The Valuchi 


n 


mily—Bronson rer ig 
among the top box-office stars of western 
Europe and needs only another money 
role to restore him to the favor he en 
joyed a year ago in this country 

If at this scason the skics arc filled 
with falling stars, so are the skies over 
Hollywood. Perhaps the biggest to fall is 
Richard Burton. Advance reports ош of 
Moscow suggest that his portrayal of 
Ficld Marshal Tito in the grand-scaled 
epic he made in Yugoslavia is a total dis. 
ter, a repeat of the hammy, overemphat 
ic performance he proffered last year as 
‘Trotsky in a film that also flopped. At the 
very least, his future without Liz around 
10 bolster his asking price is problemai 
са]. 5 у, Donald Sutherland without. 
Jane Fonda seems to be finding the 
going rough. Her m: 
tivist Tom Hayden—which produced 
other "premature" baby—seems to have 
left Sutherland out on an uncomfortable, 
and unprofitable, limb. Peter Sellers, 
who for the past several years has fancied 
himself a singularly desirable sex image, 
surged to the fore again for the few 
weeks that he and Liza М elli were 
cast by the columnists as a hot item. It 
«ooled abruptly when it became clear 
s interests were turning else 
ind Sellers went back to work on 
ish comedy, Soft Beds and Hard 
Battles, which may be here before New 
Year's. It will have to be awfully good to 
ome the pall of apathy cast by his 
past few films. Sidney Poitier, whose cur- 
rent heart interest is his Warm December 
costar Esther Anderson, seems to have 
lost out completely at the box office to 


Give her a present thatll 
make you both look good. 


Shethinks you're the cleverest, darlingest man 
in the whole wide world. 

But clever, darling men don't give ho-hum 
presents for Christmas. 

They give "Wow! You're unreal! | could kiss you 
forthis!" presents. 

Enter Clairol’s True-io-Light" Mirror. 

Itmagnifies, showsall her terrific angles, and 
gives her four kinds of lightto look sexy in. 

And the sexier she looks, the sexier she feels. 
And the sexier she feels, the sexier she acts. 

And the sexier she acts, the better for you. 
Hey, who is this a present for anyway? 


Clairol True-To-Light Mirrors 


true-to-ight Ш 
by Clairol 


TM © 1973 CLAIROL INC. 


such superstud soul brothers 
Brown, Ron O'Neal, Billy Dee Williams, 
Richard Roundtrce and F jil 

Nor have the Europeans contributed 
ything like their customary quotient of 
exciting male leads. Perhaps most eagerly 
ited was the American debut of Jean- 
Louis Trintignant, the protean star of— 
among dozens of other outstanding 
French picturcs—4 Man and a Woman, 
The Conformist, Z and My Night at 
Mand’s. Trintignant was brought here 
for The Ouiside Man, in which he was to 
costar with ^ Dickinson and Ann- 
Margret. It may arrive this year, but too 
e to affect his status here one way or 
the other. Less known in this country, 
bigger than Trintignant 
tive France, is tall, d 
т Delon. At 38, he has appeared 
п about 40 pictures—Rocco and His 
Brothers, Is Paris Burning? and his own. 
production of Borsalino among them— 
owns his own airline and is generally con- 
sidered one of France's most practiced 
heartbreakers. Last year, however, he 
was represented here as the shady as- 
sasin in Joseph Loseys ham-handed 
rendering of The Assassination of 
Trotsk nd this year fared little better 
as yet another assassin in Michael Win- 
ner's confused (and confusing) Scorpio, 
in which Delon's unhappy assignment 
was to hunt down CIA delector Burt 
Lancaster. The ambitious, bilingual 
at this moment has both eyes on 
his next country for conquest 
te the gods who shuffle his 
movie scripts have not been kind. 

Nor have England's several entrants in 
the sex-star sweepstakes been notably 
more successful this year. When Sean 
nery once again demurred over re- 
turning to his golden Bondage, the h 
assed producers of the series, Albert К. 
Broccoli and Harry Saltzman, signed up 
British TV star Roger (The Saint, The 
Persuaders, Ivanhoe) Moore 10 fill his 
patentleather shoes—indicating, unkind- 
ly, that they had actually been after 
Moore for the role as far back as On Her 
Majesty's Secret Service, the one 007 epic 
starring George Lazenby. There is no 
doubt that Live and Let Die did well; all 
the Bond films do. The only question is: 
How well did it do for Roger Moore? 
For all the tub thumping, and not a few 
critical comments that found the s 
polished Moore closer to Jan Fleming's 
007 than Connery had ever been, he still 
lacks the insouciant swagger, the machis- 
mo that made Connery the ultimate 
Bond for many fans. Whenever Ce 
has backed off to play a “serious” 
alts have been singul: 
What, Деп, 

isn't even as magnctic а 
ad's other contenders this 
year were sparkleeyed Malcolm McDow- 
ell, the amoral hero of Stanley Kubrick’s 
294 A Clockwork Orange, as a present-day 


aw: 


PLAYBOY 


Candide in Lindsay Anderson's boldly 
original O Lucky Mant; young Simon 
Ward, who made a strong impression last 
ar as Young Winston and scored again 
this year in Hitler: The Last Ten Days 
though the movie Y; and 
nch, whose original boost to star- 
dom came in the title role of Playboy's 
Macbeth production, visible this time 
around as the almost too gentlemanly 
husband of Lady Caroline Lamb. All 
three are firstrate actors—not conven 
tionally handsome but with an impres- 


sive presence. Their futures will be 
worth watching. 
One last major star—indisputably 


male—to emerge this year came from, of 
all places, Hong Kong. During the past 
three years, the busy Hong Kong studios 
of Run Run Shaw and Golden Harvest 
have been cranking out dozens of low: 
budget action pictures demonstrating the 
fighting techniques of Kung Fu, a kind of 
mayhem h no holds are barred in 
pursuit of the swilt, bloody and utter de- 
struction of the opposition. no matter 
what its numbers. Gradu: 


made their way into Western m 
and, very much like the I 
Westerns of a few years hack, suddenly 


developed into a craze. Rid 
of this craze was the dark, lithe, ev 
smiling Bruce Lee, the world's top 
screen exponent of the ancient art. Actu- 
ally, although of Chinese descent, Lec 


g the crest 


as Cato in The Green Hor nel series. 
A graduate of the University of Washing- 
ton, he taught karate in Los Angeles be- 
fore beginning his acting career. On 
visit to Hong Kong just about two years 
ago, Lee was invited to play the lead i 
Kung Fu special, Big Boss. and scored an 
overnight success. The studios asked for 
more and such was his drawing power 
that in less than a year. his price per pic- 
ture zoomed from $10,000 to $250,000— 
following which he set up a coproductio: 
deal with Warner Bros. to film Enter the 
Dragon, the first English. 
Fu epic ever made in Hong Kong. On 
July 20, shortly before he was scheduled 
с for the United States to promote 
the picture, he was found unconscious in 
his Hong Kong home. Rushed to a hospi 


m. He was 32. 

If Bruce Lee was carried to fame and 
fortune by his skill in arts of violence, 
the pseudonymous Georgina Spelvin 
found her niche by reason of her apti- 
venery- Indeed. so pseudonymous 
s Spelvin that for the first seve 
months her hit hard-core film, The Devil 
in Miss Jones, was in distribution, the 
credits listed her as Georgina Spev 


speaks of growing up in a sei 
towns throughout the South 
west, terminating with junior 
in Marsh s. She ran off at the age 


11, T. 


of 12 to join the Pollock Circus—doing 
acrobatics, trampoline and some dane 
ng—and joined the corps de ballet of 
the Radio City Music Hall in 1953. 
"Pranced from alst to 58rd Street every 
day,” she recalls, not quite accurately. 
She appeared in sales and promotional 
pictures and was one of the dancers in 
Hello, Dolly! when that company was on 
location in Garrison, New York. 
Although she had appeared im skin 
flicks before Miss Jones (one of them, Pa- 
renial Guidance, has [ешеш һееп 
rereleased as The High Priestess of Sex- 
ual Witchcraft, now touted as starri 
Georgina Spelvin), her original function 
on that film was simply to have been run- 
ning the commissary. "I read the script.” 
she said recently, “and Gerry Damiano. 
[ves he of Deep Throat—Ed.] and I 
talked about it. The lead role was already 
cast, but he changed hi d and 1 did 


$600 for her chores on Miss Jones—"L 
won't know till I get my W-twos,” she 
says—but she does know that in the fu- 
ture she is going to get а percentage or 
no deal, Unlike Linda Lovelace, who has 
found a sociological rationale for her 
work in the pornos, Miss Spelvin could 


care less. “I got enough trouble saving 
my own soul without trying to save 


the world” 
Her troubles indude a couple of m. 
riages that didn't work out and some 
noni ges thar didn't, either. As re- 
ported in Bruce Williamson's authorita- 
tive Porno Chic (PLAvBoy, August). she 
now “keeps house with actress Claire 
Lumiere—her partner in private as well 
the le 
About her films, she has a very simple 
and pragmatic outlook: "If you don't dig 
‚ don't go sce it.” As this year's Supreme 
Court obscenity rulings take effect, you 
may not get a chance to. 

Not quite in the Spelvin-Lovelace cate- 
gory at this point, but climbing fast, is 
Marilyn Chambers, the 21-year-old S 
Francisco beauty who made her hard- 
core debut just about а усаг ago in the 
Mitchell brothers’ erotic fantasy Behind 
the Green Door. A Cybill Shepherd look- 

like, Marilyn is also the girl on the 
Ivory Snow box—a fact that gave her less 
pause than it did Procter & Gamble when 
the New York Daily News headlined. 
RS. CLEAN IS PORNO CUTIE." P&G subse 
quently renewed her contract, after now 
ing, as Marilyn herself put it, that the 
publicity had sold a lot of soap. Whatever 
the special talents or charms of these 
hard-core queens, their futures are not 
precisely in their own hands. At this 
point in time, as they say, thc courts 
would seem to hold the ultimate answers. 

Back in the mainstream of film ma 
ing, no one at all seems to hold any fi 
answers. Rarely has there been a уса 
when a new star, a vibrant new personal- 
ity, hasn't zoomed into focus, raising all 


is the way she looks at it. 


n sequence of Miss Jones." 


Can you spot 
the Camel Filters smoker? 


Rx 


| ay Even at the firemen's parade, 


everyone seems to have a 
p gimmick—almost everyone. 
Pick the one who doesn't. 


1. Sorry. Meet "Clean Еа" 
Mealmangel, discount diner owner. Gimmick: Leaves his thumb 
print in mashed potatoes. Smokes ABL's “Any Brand Left" in the 
ash trays. 2. No. And no. Tex'n'Tilly, icky-poo radio-TV person 
alities. Gimmick: If it moves, interview it, They once even used a 
stethoscope to talk to а mole. 3. Jerry Jibroni. Spends so much 


WELCOME 

| \ 
CU 

DISTRICT 3 


'3 R. J, Reynolds Tobacco Co 


lime setting up, he never sees parado. Smokes cigarettes so super-long 
he almost needs binoculars lo light them. 4. He's Tom Thump. His » 
bass drum really is a gimmick: Can't stand the noise, buthe — | 
likes lo wear it. Puts cotton in his ears and in his cigarette filters. 

5. Right. He enjoys the passing parade, without any gimmicks. | 

That’s why he smokes Camel Fillers. They re good tastin, 
easy and honest. His kind of cigarette. 6. He’ 
Streale. Hopes mounted police won't = 
parade. But they always do. 


Camel Filters, CAMEL 


Theyre nar for everybody | 


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


but they could be for you). ES 


20 mg. 3 mg nicotine av. per cigarette, FIC Report FEB.73. 


PLAYBOY 


296 


hopes. Not so in 1973. Ai the outset of 
the year, all signs pointed to Liv Ull 
described then on Time's cover as 
HOLLYWOOD'S NEW NORDIC STAR." A 
stand-by regular in Ingmar Bergman's tal 
ented troupe, she had just completed for 
him her di g role in Cries and 
IWhispers, and For his fellow director Jan 
Troéll the even more demanding role of 
a reluctant émigrée from Sweden to the 
United States a century ago in his two- 
part epic, The Emigrants and The New 
land. While in Hollywood to promote 

he Emigrants’ chances for an Academy 
homination, she was signed by Ross Hun 
ter for the female lead in his musical pro 
duction of Lost Horizon. This, in tum, 
was still before the cameras when pro- 
ducer Mike Frankovich olfered her the 
starring role in the movie version of the 
Broadway hit comedy /0 Carats. Colum- 
nists wrote of the advent of another 
Garbo. another Ingrid. Bergman, 

But nothing happened. Lost Horizon 
was a gigantic turkey—critically, artisti- 
Пу, financially. A flat and unimagi 
tive remake of Frank Capra 
hit—with songs, yet—the film gave 
little to do beyond looking beautiful 
imd Burt Bacharach's second-rate score 
called upon her to sing a Julie Andrews- 
wpe number, The Wold Is a Circle, 
that suddenly made you appreciate Julie 
Andrews. And 40 Casals, which F 
vich had had rewritten to emphasize that 
Miss Ullmann i d to de- 
emphasize that she is considerably less 
than 40, enjoyed only a moderate recep- 
tion. As an older woman who purported- 
ly falls in love with a boy of 20, Miss 
Ullmann, herself a radiant 54, seemed f 
too desirable to make the age discrepancy 
worth noticing, and far too intelligent 10 
let the whole affair happen in the first 
place. Still to come before the year's end 


is The New Land, in which she is noth 
ing short of magnificent as the patient, 
longsuffering wife of an early Minnesot 
settler. Generally dressed in faded cali 
сосу and bulky sweaters, and pregnant 
during the film's climactic episodes, she 
may well garner another New York Film 
Critics Award: but the role can hardly re- 
store her to the sevstar status she en- 
joyed when the year began 

Sheer inactivity robbed others of their 
eminence. Lovely Cybill Shepherd. the 
WASPish golden girl of Charles Grodin's 
Hint ite deeem AP Io 
Kid, was the hottest young st Holly- 
wood as 1973 began. Instead of choos- 
ing à new picture, however, she chose to 
be director Peter Bogdanovichs latest 
flame. They're making a film together 
Italy, but there's no chance that it w 
ve before 1974. Similarly, Liza Min 
nelli, whose Cabaret swept the Acidemy 


last March, has spent the subsequent 
months in some concertizing, and even 
more socializing, with the paparazzi con- 


stantly in pursuit. 
Arnaz, Jr., Peter Sellers or who? She gor 
lots of pictures in the papers, none on 
the screen. Equally wasted. it would 
seem, was Diana Ross's electrifying per 
sonification of Billie Holiday in Lady 
Sings the Blues. Happily married (to 
personal manager Robert Ellis). and 
millionaire since she was 25, Diana hard- 
ly needs the money. But in the bad old 
days of Hollywood, no studio would have 
dreamed of failing to capitalize at the 
carliest possible moment on the surprise 
success of one ol its stars. Ci they 
wouldn't be pe 
Europe—as Di 


Was it going to be Desi 


held ag: 


the fact that it had, as we 

т, all Ше machinery and 

ate stars is something 
. For the studi 


studio system. 
indicated car 
the muscle to cr 
woefully missed tod: 
the stars were assets. 
film inventories, their back lots and the 
theater chairs. Because the performers 
were tied to them by long-term contracts. 
was to the studios’ advantage to turn 
them into household names as quickly 
they could. Not only did they maintain 
enormous publicity departments for this 
purpose, constantly. feeding photos and 
reams of interview material to the world 
press: they also cast their contract people 
in picture alter picture, so that by the 
end of a single year—alter as many as 
four, five or six appearances the pub 
lic was well aware of a Jimmy Stewart or 
а Lana Turner, The studios quite literal 
ly built their stars. 

Not so anymoi 


The wo 


Jd-be 


ar 


must make it on his (or her) own—which 
generally means his (or h 


er) own agent. 
ess manager and publicrelitions 
Some, like curvaceous Edy Wil 
liams, have a flair for selfadvertise 
ment, flaunting the body beautiful on 
every plausible—and sometimes implan 
sible 

plenty of attention, but nothing tangible 
beyond roles in several films by her then- 
husband, Russ Meyer, including the 
trailer for a picture called Foxy that was 
once appended to Blacksna 
movie that Meyer made earlier this 
without Edy. The r milly have it 
that this had a good deal to do with the 
subsequent Me mus separation. 
In any case r has been lopped 
olf Blachsnake and Foxy is no longer on 


bu 
firm. 


occ 


moi 


Meyers schedule—nor, as of this n 
ment, has anything else turned up on 
dys. On the other hand. when the 


equally curvaceous Raquel Welch wed 
Patrick Curtis, she got a husband, agent 
business manager and public-relations 


firm rolled into one, and her cuca 
soared. Patrick's problem was that he 
wanted to be a producer as well, using 
his wife's name as the bait for a number 
of dubious packages. The pictures failed. 
and so did their marriage. Ever since 
then, the gossip columns and trade press 


have been filled with harshly ami- 
Welchian comments about her "unpro- 
fessional conduct" on The Lasi of 
Sheila and her sudden withd 

retracted, from the E based pro- 
duction of The Three Muskelevis, She 


was said to be distressed with the small 
size of her role but at last report was back 
on location. filming in Spain 

As any old studio publicity hand could 
tell you, no small part of the publicist's 
ms out of the 
the 
names out 
ng them in 


job is to keep such it 
pre 

problem isn't keeping. ih 
of the papers but ge 
The Hollywood trades are filled with 
hot items like, "Spooling spaphett 
Nicky Blair's: Mark Nathanson & Lei 


. But for most young hopefuls 


NO MATTER HOW YOU GO THROUGH LIFE 
AT LEAST GO ON TIME. 


> ocean or out on the 


Whether you're meeting someone de: 
an Accutron’ watch 


mnis courts or at a sid 
ill get you there on tir 
We have watches to suit most ony ach one you'll hear 

the hum of our faithful tuning fork movement that promises complete ac- 


curacy to within a minute a month” 
Isn't it nice to know that no matter which road you take, there'll be one thing 


you con depend OVA А C CUTR ON 


Formen and women. 


J dol. # cand hand. #21077 -- leone umiraus honds с 
high fashion 14K gold c =. Bottom row from left 0= 14K gol 
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chose within ene year fron: date of purchese. f Bulo 


PLAYBOY 


298 


“Those of you who may be hijackers are warned that 
this is a fully automated. flight. There is no pilot, copilot 


nor navigator, and I myself am a wax dummy." 


Laylor-Youn 


Fatrening on fettuccini 
orante: Angel Tompkins $ 
nes”; “Milking mai tais at The 
Tab Hunter M 
sip columns dote ev 
who is going with whom—" 
ng much of Skip Burton,” 

Fred Williamson's 
“Hollywood's new two: Sally 
a and Clihon Davis (of Two 
Gentlemen of Verona)" And ihe afo 
опей unfortunate death of Sarah 
Miles's secretary ger while on loct 
tion for The Who L 


current 


Man 
Dancing provided a good two w 


copy (with the movie always c 
identified). 

‘This is not to suggest that any of these 
momentous events had been arranged for 
the special benefit of the gentlemen and 
ladies of the press, but it would be ingen- 
uous to suppose that, once having taken 


place, there wasn’t а publicist around (at 
out $100 a week) to “leak” them to the 
papers. Ann-Margret’s Lake Tahoe acci- 


full 
of 


ıt battle back to 
control of 1 won the sympath 
the en ion. But what was the 
announced project for her following her 
Arthur Miller's After the 


dent, 


Fall. There will always be a press agent. 
may be suffi- 
to grab off a few lines of type (and 
remind a casting director that one is still 
around), they are hardly the stuft of 
which movie legends are made. A film 

: appearances om 
the screen, not in the trade papers or the 
zines. Because the number of 
films has dedined drastically 
the years, however, such opportuni- 
have become increasingly та 
cially, oddly enough, for womer 
very least, two or three good 
quick succession are necessary to estab- 
lish lasting star potential. But how mauy 
get a run of such luck? Beautiful Victoria 
rdner 
h perhaps a 
ckie Kennedy—lucked into 
Paul Newman's 
e and Times 
nmediate- 
yboy's production of The Naked 
As a result, Victoria has two major 
ck, to her 

considered comer, But 
x she will come depends on how 
good her next film roles arc—and how 
soon they arr 


how 


At the moment, Lindsay Wagner—a 
Il, tawny-haired former model wi 
essive list of television appes 

is in very much the 


position. Although Robert Wise’s Two 
People was hardly one of the major I 
of 1973, the lissome Miss Wagner received 


gi 
all kinds of good notices, borh for her 
looks and for her performance as Ihc 
haute couture model who falls in love 
with GI deserter Peter Fonda. The film: 
release was held up long enough to I 


it into fairly close proximity to 20th 
Century-Fox's The Paper Chase, in which 
she plays a Harvard professo ful 
daughter who shacks up with one of 


poppa's better pupils, Timothy Bottoms. 
Critical reactions were uniformly lavova- 
ble—to her, at least. But what does she 
do for an ? At this point, 
must be half à dozen or more young 
actresses, good-looking and talented— 
Tiffany Bolling, Diane Keaton, Jane Sey- 
mour, Valerie Perrine, Angel Tompkins 
and Susan Tyrrell among them—wa 
either for another picture or for that one 


big one that will make them strong con 
tenders for future fame. 
OF 


1 the studios on the West Coast, 
= most closely resem- 
bling the old Hollywood. right down to 
its New Talent Development. program. 
Under the of Monique 
James, young. tresses discov 
ered in off-Broadway or university plays, 
or even im the films or television. pro 
of rival studios, are brought to 
al under contract, ur 


graduate into Ге 
tame out of i 


But so d 
ine Ross and C; 
Anybody heard from them 
And Jo Ann Pflug, that. promis- 
Het ol two years ago, you will be 


ied to singer Chuck Werk 
whocver he may be. 

Every year, there 
who, on the basis of 


шге seems 
10 happen for high-fashion model M. 
Berenson—who once graced the 
PLAYBOY and had а wordle: 
Death in Venice 
an indelible role as Liza Minnelli’s Jew- 
ish friend and confidante in Cabaret. La 
anddaughter of designer 
grearniece of the late art 
historian Bernard Berenson and long- 
time companion of banker David Roths- 
ild (of those Rothschilds)—has been 
signed 10 appear opposite Ryan O'Neal 


пісу Kubrick's new movie. "I think 
an English countess.” she told 
columnist Joyce Haber. "I've never met 
Mr. Kul 'm dying to. Ryan says he’s 


PLAYBOY 


300 


fantastic” Miss Berenson may be an 
amateur, but she indubitably has talenı— 
nections. Obviously, her future 
t rest on whether or not she makes 
it in Hollywood. 

Another young actress who scored im- 
portantly this year, her first time out, 
was Michelle Phillips, playing Billie 
Frecherte to Warren Oates’s grinning 
Dillinger in the motion picture of the 

As we observed earlier, Mi- 


same name. 
chelle was formerly with the Mamas and 
the now she’s seemingly wedded 


10 her new profession. “1 want to be a 
star," she announced on completing hei 
Dillinger assignment. “A bi Big 
like stars used to be." No question about 
it, she has the potential But will she 
have the opportunity? At the present 
ш. ev h Dillinger has been 
socko biz, no new assignments have 
been posted for thi ng new talent. 
On the other I g lası— 
the film scene has suddenly opened up 
ented blacks. Within the past two 
according to Variety, there have 
more than 50 black-oriented mov- 
which has meant unprecedented. op- 
portunities for actresses who are not only 
black bur beautiful. Topping the list, of 
e Diana Ross and Cicely Tyson, 
both of them nominees for last year's 
Academy Awards. (Possibly they can- 
celed cach other out: Liza Minnelli 
won.) The diminutive Miss Tyson has 
stently turned down offers ever 
A black activist and a militant fo 
inist as well, she refuses to appear in any 
goes against her principles. 
d, this past fall, she did a TV film 


Instea 


ny would have paid her, simply because 
she believed t it was saying. Miss 
Ross has yet 10 make another film com- 
mitment, even though the offers have 
been coming thick and fast. 

But there are others—the 
low the Gunns, the Sh 
Flys through their incredible adventures. 
Brenda Sykes was eminently 
Jim Brown's girliviend in Black Gunn, 
id has had many more roles as a conse 
quence, Cool-eyed Pamela 
rently one of the most active young 
women in Hollywood: She has starred in 
Соју and offered strong support in such 
films as Scream, Blacula, Scream; Trouble 
Man; and Black Mama, White Mama. 
Almost as active is Playboy’s own New 
York Bunny aduate Gloria Hendry, 
seen this year in Black Cuesar, Slaughter's 
Big Rip-Off and Live and Let Die. Paula 
Kelly, the sinuous star of Don't Bother 
Me, 1 Can't Cope on the stage. registered 
strongly as Chuck Connors’ mistress in 
Soylent Green. “I suppose some years ago 
it might have caused raised cycbrows," 
she says. "It seems so totally natural to- 
day, I doubt that anyone in the audience 
would say, "Why is she h " She has 
since been American Film. 


girls who fol- 
fts and the Super 


is cur- 


‘Theater's production of Lost in the Stars 

Certainly the most resounding, success 
of the year in black films was registered 
by the statuesque (6/27) ex-model Tamara 
Dobson, whose starring role in Cleopatra 
Jones her first movie outing — promptly 
racked up boxoffice tallies to ri 
of Super Fly. Cast as 
persexy undercover agent, Tamara fights 
Shelley Winters and her drug racketcers 


ful, Miss Dobson is off to a flying start. 
Other black beauties currently on the 
way up include the lovely Vonetta McGee 
(Shalt's compan 

Allen, Rosalind Cash, Sheila Frazier and 
Polly Niles. But most of them would 
agree with Vonetta, who recently told an 
interviewer, “I've done too many films in 
the last year which abused my head, my 
mind and my body. I used to think it was 
important to keep working, but when the 
at part comes along, I fear I will hate 
acting so much I won't know it when I 
see it.” 

She was, of couse, 
kinds of roles generally assigned to blad 
actresses the blaxploitation field. 
Lynn Hamilton, who has a continuing 
role on the Sanford & Son 
series, provided what seems to be 
typical illustration. Summoned by a pro- 
ducer to read for a movie in which she 
was 10 play what was described to her à 

she wa 


referring to the 


a “uong Augela Davis type, 
asked almost immediately if she were 
willing to do nude scenes. Although she 


was noncommittal in her reply. she w 
sked to read for the part anyway 
started to read,” she later reported, 
here is this woman who holds 
of academic degrees and has a high posi 
tion opening the door totally nude to 
dmit her boyfriend. a policeman. The 
first thing he says is, “Fix me some break- 
fast.” She starts to fry bacon. It was com- 
pletely unrealistic. Any woman knows 
that bacon splatters grease, and she 
would or cook it without 
on, the 
boyfriend is patting her butt and feeling 
her breasts and saying things like. ‘Baby 
you move me: I was incensed. It's doubly 
wrong to ha intelli woman 
whom you profess to be an Angela Davis 
type running around like this. Y left, and 
they never did ask me 
background. But just turning down roles 
like this doesn't stop them from being 
itten,” Miss Hamilton continued. 
"here is always an actress hungrier than 
the one who tumed it down. Actresse 
especially minority actresses, are in no 
position to bargain. 
ut things may beginning to 
change out in Hollywood, for white ac 
tresses as well as black. The new mili- 
tancy that has characterized the women's 
liberation movement has finally struck at 
the film industry, hitting simultaneously 


be 


at its male-chauvinist hiring policies and 
t what the movement regards as the 
simplistic, demeaning image of women 
perpetuated by the screen. Women's 
committees have been formed within 
both the Screen Actors Guild and the 
Writers Guild of America to study ways 
and means of ameliorating conditions 
in their respective areas. More recently, 
under the leadership of Tichi Wilkerson 
Miles, publisher of the Hollywood Re- 
poster, Women in Film—an organization 
of established and respected names in the 
industry, banded together to provide job 
information that could transform the 
studios from what they call a “White 
Male Club"—was formed. Another group. 
Cine is planning a Women's 
ilm Festival—similar to that held Last 
усаг in New York—io be presented 
Hollywood next February. A new femi- 
nist mag; Women & Film, has pub- 
lished several issues, and a second 
magazine, Myth America, is scheduled to 
ppear shortly. 

While all of these ave prim 
cerned with the bread: 
ness of opening up more jobs behind 
the camera to women—which involves 
on such staunchly conservative 
those of the cameramen and the 
os—their ultimate rationale is 
that only in this way can they alter the 
image of women that's presented on the 
screen, Only this way, they feel, can they 
counter the type of thinking offered by 
such exccutives as Paramounts Robert 
Evans, who recently opined, “Women are 
turned on by male violence, bloodand- 
guis films, as long as they are not part of 
it. They enjoy them just as they some 
times enjoy porno films, Writers write for 
men, not women, and there are no fe 
male stus except Barbra Streisand who 
could hold up а film.” Ic is this type of 
thinking th. es arde 


rily con- 
butter busi. 


ї feminists 
y dicam. 
rself. She 


such as sereenwriter Eleanor Pei 


ding a studio hı 
calls it her favorite fantas 
But the hard fact vem 
oday a 
men—they are wri ad produced 
by men. And since the accent now is very 
much on violence, there are precious few 
orible female roles that am actress 
an play—unless, like Tamara Dobson, 
she doubles in karate. Perhaps casting di- 
rector Joyce Selznick had this in mind 
when she stated, “Today, the few women 
who come up as acuesses get one or two 
nd then you never hear of 
" Certainly, the present im- 
between male and female sex 
s would seem to bear this out. For two 
years now, the dominant male has no- 
where been more domi 
But nature 
ps next year, nature. 
п of women's lib—will find a ws 
ticular vo 


ins that most 


for 


movies 


en 


€ not only wi 
* 


ures 


“It's just thal we think you ought to get that 
box of yours seen to, Pandora.” 


301 


PLAYBOY 


302 


BAREPS BACE! ouo page e) 


want to go to lunch i 


ch, and dinner, and 
breakf h on Barbi's list of pas- 
times, and it’s a passion that sometimes 


gets her in trouble. “I like to eat every- 
thing”—mischievous laugh—"and that's a 
problem. If I slip up for five days, I put 
on five pounds. I'm five, three and I like 
10 weigh about a hundred and one: do 
like anybody to be able to say I have love 
dics," grabbing herself around the 


- But I find my- 
self eating all the carbohydrates T want 
one day and saying to myself that they're 
low in calories: and then the next day ГИ 


pinch of flesh. * 


have а big omelet, followed by chicken 
legs and all kinds of goodies. and it comes 
10 three thousand calories, and I 


‘Oh, well, I'm on a low-carbohydrate diet 
today.” But somehow that doesit work! 
So Lend up fasting for three days drink- 
ing water and iced tea.” She stits a tall 
glass of 


iced tea, very pale, the way the 


II knows she likes it. served with huge 
wedges of lemon and a boule of Swecta 
“One, two, three, four, five.” she counts 
the drops of sweetener. "II I were to р 
jough sugar in my iced tea to suit me, 
it would take three tablespoons.” 

Does she diet to please Hefner? "No, 
he’s very good about it. But he notices 
when I've gained or lost: when Em heav- 
ier he likes my fac «b when Im thi 
he likes my body. 1 don't think he'll ever 
get both. 

Over the five years since she met Нег. 
ner on the set of his television seri 
Pluyboy After Dark. where she'd been 
sent by a modeling agency to be one of 


“I'm putting on Ravel's 


"Bolero - 


ihe gi 


slopes four times. 
He got to be beuer 


am—but th 
ready to chi 


No, but I'm ready to take him on at 
ammon!” 


bad 


5 
What do Barbi 


common? Th 


up slowly, 
overflowing 
Jashed eyes. 


We always 


don't know, I think he'd like me to be 


less competitive 


kili 
Bac 


dies’ 
tembe 
Pips. su 


but there 


think 


into 
Wi 
dissolves into 


s who lent a house party atmos- 
phere to the show, Barbi has been t 
to interest Hefner in gourmet cu 
Unsuccessful 


He's still a potr 
She had 


t tennis th 
isn’t saying much." 
lenge Bobby F 


ES 


the crinkled. 
re both lazy.” The 
smile. 


an never work as 
t 


as him if I beat hi 


'eturns. 


Angeles” 


you can keep up?” 


newhat 
Jing him to join her in 
“I got him on the ski 
nd he took up tennis. 


iggs, then? 


nd Hefner have in 
time the laugh bubbles 
s il starting from her toes and 
thickly 


"No, we both love 
mes and were both y 
petitive, so we 


y com- 
team. 
ch other. 
. he doesn't mind i 
‘s considered par for the course: 
ally boil 
ckgammon. lt would both 
inued to beat him at any he: 


1 beat 


him if I 
men- 


probably. but I can't 
help it, Um built that way. Kill, Bubba, 
The laugh 
mmon is probably their favor- 
e бите Ван 
invit 
at Los 
prising 


ed and hosted a 
ional tournament in Sep- 
exclusive club 
and somewhat embar- 
first place— 
Monopoly, 
Risk. pinball, a sort of electronic table 


tennis called Volly, and Barbi's personal 
Computer Quiz. "TIL have to admit 
е an edge over most people there, 
because part of the score depends on how 
fast you can answer the questions, and 
Гуе had a course in speed reading.” The 
quiz game, pinball and several of the 
larger toys are housed in the former gar- 
dener's couage, now known as the Game 
Room—one end of which is dominated 
by Barbi's prize purchase, an enormous, 
illuminated, stained-glass Seeburg Oi 
chestrion: a combination of player 
piano, organ, castanets, cymbals, bells 

d xylophone. “I i ten 


o'dock at night, because the neighbors 
complain” 
She bought the Orchestrion at an auc- 


tion, the sort of event she haunts—along 
with that typically Southern Californi 
version of the flea market, the swap 
meet, There she picks up thi 
fany lamps, funky fox Iurs—no longer 
available, or overpriced, in Los Angeles 
antique shops. “The most interestin 
meets are usually held in drive-in the: 
ters, sixty miles or more out of town," she 
They start at six in the morning, so 


1 have to leave the house by five; but I 
enjoy driving at that time of day.” At the 
meets, sellers spread their merchandise 


on tables: "Most of the things have prices 
written on them, bur you have to ba 
1 I have this problem," she says, 
frowning slightly, "of feeling a bit guilty 
about that, because I know I can afford 
at thev're asking. But half the fun is 
¢ to haggle. So I do. 

Her swap-meet and auction bargains 
are only a few of the things Barbi ralks 
about as she takes guests on a tour of 
Playboys 30-room Western Mansion. 
Others are her needlepoint—hundreds of 
items, (mostly her 
own abstract desi med repro- 
ductions in Mona Lisa, 


(the 
hunting scenes, erotic figures from the 


chery 


sketchbook of sculptor Frank Gallo): 
the huge black. marble bach Cth 


Nun labels are pretti 
Lafite-Rothschild ones ha 
and her new sitar 
swap meet. 
Outdoors, she passes a tree laden with 
justripened apples. "Wanna tummy 
ache?” she inquires with a grin, pickin 
nd offering one, raking а bite of anotl 
er. Strolling on, she points out and 
names some of the scores of exotic ani 
mals and birds that populate the grounds 
hats Yogi. the woolly monkey. He 
smells like coconut.” Moving along the 
walk, she stops, opens a wooden bucket 
on a post and extracts a couple of ba 
nanas and а handful of grapes. Imme- 
diuely. she's surrounded by 
monkeys: each gets his or her favorite 
treat. “Oh, look.” exclaims В point 
ing infant monkey dutching its 


but th 
ve more class"): 
also discovered at a 


spider 


to an 


Jan Lloyd of “Stories” 


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PLAYBOY 


304 


mother pickaback style, "How exciting! 
1 wonder if Hef knows about it. That's 
the first baby I've seen here. But then,” 
she adds straight-faced, “they're always 
Tooling around, so I'm not surprised." 
Reaching a pool, she tosses a handful of 
fish food to some of the stock of 400 
p. who instantly turn the water into 
roil of orange and silver. Perched on 

© such characters as 
s Merlin, Merkin, Macbeth 
1 and the cockatoos Casper 

Hef and I named them all,” 
she says. “You'll notice we went in for al- 
Iteration." Less easily identifiable are 
the pony-sized sheep dogs, Big Dog and 
Little Dog, since Little outweighs Big by 
a stone or two. In the conservatory, filled. 
with orchids and other tropical plants, 
are the iguanas—not among Barbi's fa- 
vorites—colorful finches and а growing 
г oflspring of the pair she 
gave Hefner last Valentine Day. "Aren't 
they sweet? Look, she's sitting on anoth- 
er egg now." 

Its obvious that Barbi lavishes a good 
deal of maternal instinct on these pets. 
How does she feel about having children 
of her own? “Oh, I'm a nester, 1 would 
like to have children, but not right now. 
And I certainly wouldn't want to have 
children unless I were married. Some 
people—well, like Hef- think you can 
ahead and have them anyway, because 
there are no taboos anymore, 1 don't be- 
Tieve that. 1 don t care 11 Mia Farrow had 


the 
nd Mary 
and Calvin. 


таса 


her children out of wedlock or not. It 
would bother me. Someday the time will 
come to have children, but I want to get 
married first. 1 guess in lots of ways Im 
an old-fashioned girl.” 
plans loom much larger on Bar- 
bi's current horizon than any marit 
prospects do. She's made three films—the 
aforementioned Third Girl from the Left 
and another ABC-TV movie, The Great 
American Beauty Contest, in both ol 
which she had relatively minor roles, 
and the German production How Did a 
Nice Girl Like You Get into This Busi- 
new, in which she had the lead. She 
has several night-club engagements as a 
singer-guitarist under her belt, with an- 
other coming up next year at Chicago's 
prestigious Mister Kelly's, and she's be- 
coming prominent—getting more lines 
and more songs to sing—on Hee Haw. 
“Doing Hee Haw isn't really like 
work; it seems as if we get paid for hav- 
g 1 great time on the set. I always look 
forward to going to Nashville to do 
The Hee Haw cast congregates in Nash- 
ville every six months for a daily shoot- 
ing schedule lasting from two to five 
s, “I don't know why, but I'm a 
different person in Nashville,” Barbi 
We work long hours, but after we 
we gather at some- 
one's house and everybody brings his in 
strument—I take my guitar—and we sit 
‘ound the fire and sing. I would never 
dream ol inviting all my lriends over 


says. 


finish a day's taping, 


"Your streetwalking days are over. 
Your arches are gone." 


with their instruments. Ir would be 
But in Nashville we just have a 
great time—for about two weeks. I 
wouldn't want to live there; I'd miss 
Los Angeles.” 

One thing Barbi prefers about Nash- 
ville: the recognition she gets. “It's 
funny. In Los Angeles, Гус always been 
recognized as Hef's girl. In Nashville, I'm 
girl on Hee Haw.’ That pleases me, 
use it's something that I've done 
myself." She smiles. “If I went to Nash- 
ville with Hef, they would think he was 
Mr. Benton." Another laugh, the qui 
one this time. “Nothing would please 
me more.” 

Although Hee Haw isn't exactly an in- 
tellectual show—"It has thirty million 
viewers. twenty million of whom are 
probably pretty square”—she feels her 
increased exposure on it is helping her 
shed a certain aura of superficiality she 
acquired. "I think thar T definitely have 
an image of not being smart, because 
people think of me as a doll: “She walks! 
She talks! She cries real tears!" Actually, 
when 1 was cohost with Hef on Playboy 
After Dark, I never had any lines; you 
just saw my face. It was more like: “She 
walks! She cries real cars! But does she 
talk? Ws ridiculous. Of couse 1 talk.” 
Barbi feels she most needs to 
gainst now is spreading herself 
п, becoming something ol a dilet- 

"d like to be good at a lot of 
things, and Hef is always warning me to 
be c I remember when 1 started 
lessons. Hef walked in 
1 behind a partition while I was 
tiding to one of those records with 
the melody left out. He turned off the 
phonograph and sat me down and said, 
"Dear, E think you should concent 
your acting. He thought I shouldn't di- 
vide my energies. It was te 
and cried. 1 kept on, thou 
I'm good enough for him to want to hire 
me to sing in all th 
I have to 


dancing gui 
1 want lesons and 
ijo lessons. And"—spreading her 


from the Hee Haw cast, Misty Rowe, just 
called. She's landed the lead in onc of 
those Bruce Lee-type movies and she has 
to study karate. Well, you know me, the 
old sucker: When Misty asks, ^ 
ate lessons with me? I s; 
! So I guess I'm going to be tak- 
arate, too. I don't have time to do 
everything." 

‘bi looks at her w 
promised my agent I'd see hi 
noon about a 
flashes up the е, quickly 
changes her clothes, runs back down, 
hops into her Maserati and leaves the 
place she's often described as radise, 
heading for the workaday world of 
Hollywood below. 


this after- 
And she 


PLAYBOY FORUM 


a. Basically a conservative group 
g 170.000 lawyers throughout 
the nation, the A.B.A. announced its 
new position on marijuana at its annual 
meeting in Washington, D.C., last Au- 
gust, alter a major effort by a number of 
wrorneys working closely with the Na 
mal Organization for the Reform of 
Marijuana Laws (NORML) 

We at NORML planned id executed 
a thorough program to educate delegates 
to the A.B.As convention. During an 
hourlong floor debate at the annual 
meeting, a past president of the A.B.A. 
and а former chairman of the A.B.As 
house of delegates spoke in support of 
the marijuana resolutions. When the 
al tally was taken, the resolution stat 
ng that “there should be no criminal 
laws punishing simple possession of mari- 
juana by users" had passed by а vote of 
122 to 70, and. g 
“that casual distribution of small amounts 
not for profit be treated as simple posses 
sion" had been approved by a 10310-84 
vote. 

The majority of. public officials at all 


levels of gove 


econd resolution ur 


su 


nent are Lawyers, and 
m are A.B. A. members. As 
stich, they are receptive to A.B.A. posi- 
tions, particularly on questions 


1 changing legal response to current social 


many of il 


(continued [rom page 94) 


issues. We expect that many legislators 
who previously had a waitandsee atti- 
tude toward marijuana will now feel free 
to favor decriminaliza 
Frank R. Fioramonti 
Legislative Counsel 
NORML 
КЕШЕ 


D.C. 


SCIENTISTS IN CAGES 

I must say I agree with Robert Anton 
Wilson's letter on the case of Dr. Timo- 
thy Leary in the June Playboy Forum. 
Wilson's comparison of Dr. Leary's s 
tion to the case oE Dr. Wilhelm Reich is 
especially apropos. It is dismaying to re- 
call that only a handful of psych sin 
the country protested when Dr. Ri 
jailed and his books were burned in 1956. 
Tt ist at the protest in the Leary 
case has been equally microscopic 

OF course the ideas af Dr Reich and 
Dr. Leary are especially offensive 10 mia- 
jority opin 


ча 


This is why protest should 
arous. We owe our exist 


" 
8 
liberties not to people with acceptable 
ideas but to the w 


c 


have been vigi 


agness of bar asso- 
and ar 
groups to fight like hell for heretics with 
unpopular ideas. Every scientist, every 
writer and publisher, every teacher, cv- 
ery man and woman who might at some 
time have an unpopular idea should 


ions, 1 d soci simil 


ies 


protest loudly and persistently until Dr. 
Leary is freed, The civil liberties you 
save may be your own 

E. Hart. 

Fort Worth, Texas 


THIS LAND IS WHOSE LAND? 

ast spring. Cont al Oil Compa 
nys mineral division staked 3200 acres 
of land, affecting about 2000 homes in 
the Tucson mountain area of southeast 
ern Arizona. Conoco officials said they 
would be drilling on this staked property 
for as long as three years. It may seem 
wrong that a person can't refuse to let а 
mining company dig on his own land 
but an 1872 Federal mining law reserved 
the mine ts of much of the land 
in the state. To acquire these ri 
company has simply to find mineral de 
posits: then anyone living ou the land 
must permit the company to dig 


We local homeowners formed an 
ation called SMART. (Stop 
Mining Around Residential Tucson) 


When the first drill rig c 
land. we sat in Iront of it and stopp 
Law enforcement agents finally forced 
us to let the rigs on our land, inform 
ing us thar we couldn't occupy oi 
property if it interfered with drilling 

operations, 
In July, we walked 190 swelteri 
(concluded on page 308) 


ne on 


r own 


miles 


RELAX 


YOU'VE GOT 
MASTER CHARGE 
Helen. Lorraine. Jackie. Evelyn 
Sue. Ginger. Bunny. Mary Lee. 
Alice. Meg. The Master Charge 
card is good in more places 
across the country than any 
other card. And, if you like, you 
can stretch out your payments. 


Merry Christm: 


306 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 


people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement 


CLAP HANDS, 
HERE COMES CHARLIE 
There he is, rolling around on roller skates, 
taking a tumble in Modern Times. It's vintage 


Chaplin and it’s only one of 15 masterpieces in QUICK KICK 

both I6mm and 35mm that are available on a The French, they are a funny race; they fight with their feet and, 
rental basis (rates vary, depending on whether well, you know the rest. And the French have come up with 
or not you charge admission) from RBC Films, what probably is the best footsball game built, René Pierre's 
933 N. La Brea Avenue, Los Angeles, competition model, available from its American distributor, 
California, Other rarities include 4 King in Peabody's Inc, Box 163, Virginia Beach, Virginia, for $495 

New York, Monsieur Verdoux, The Creat plus shipping. (Football, for all you hermits, is a terrific 
Dictator, The Circus, The Idle Class and a table game where players attempt to maneuver a ball into an 
forthcoming Peter Bogdanovich-Bert Schneider opponent's goal via the use of miniature soccer men 
documentary, The Life Work of Charles оп rods.) René Pierre's features telescoping rods, spring shock 


Chaplin, Be assured they're the reel thing. absorbers and rugged construction. You'll get a kick out of it 


WILD AND WOOLLY 
To paraphrase that old Roger 
Miller lyric, you may not be 
able to rollerskate in a 
buffalo coat, hut now at least 
you can buy one. The Black 
Hills Buffalo Coat Company, 
Box 131, Keystone, South 
Dakota, has a variety of 
shapes and sizes for sale, from 
ski-jacket styles at $340 
to full-length yet lightweight 
models at $495. (It will 


FARAWAY LOOK even customize your 
With everyone carrying Vuitton luggage these choice with $15-each 
days, God knows there’s got to be something else solid silver buttons and a 
around that will still impress all those airport velvet quilt lining. You 
security people. There is. Period luggage stickers can also order unlined 
from the Twenties, Thirties and Forties that 8°x10° rugs at $175 or 
the Nostalgia Factory in Crazy Eddie's Game lined ones at $250.) Lastly, 
Centre (2022 Peel Street, Montreal) is selling for all you conservationists 
50 cents each or 12 for five dollars. You can, can calm down, as the buffalo 
pay your money and take your chance or is no longer an endan- 
request a specific establishment: Shepheard's gered species, and we're 


in Cairo, perhaps, or even the Hotel Winthrop not buffalcing you 
"the heart of the evergreen playground,” about that, pardners. 
acoma. Now, that's class. 


SEALS OF APPROVAL. 


"To everyone's relief, the annual slaughter 
of harp seals in the Gulf of St. Lawrence 
has been suspended—and will stay so, 
provided tourism replaces some of the 
revenue lost by this grisly practice. So this 
spring, Hanns Ebensten Travel in 
Manhattan is offering four-day, $495 round 
trips by air from Montreal to view the 
pups in their natural habitat. Join up! 


HIGH HORSE 
Christmas toys arc traditionally found 
under the tree. But here's one that will 
dwarf just about anything, assuming you 
can get it in your door. It’s an 11’ x 7” 
hand-carved pine rocking horse that's 
available from Ken Bright (8 Point House, 
18 West Grove, Greenwich, London S.E. 
10, England) for only $3735 plus shipping. 
‘Thoughtful givers, of course, will include 
a stepladder as part of the surprise. 


INNIES AND OUTIES 


‘The belly button is a truly 
wondrous thing—man's only 
common birthmark. Why. 

if it weren't for the belly 

button, you couldn't even be 
sure you were born. Jewelry 
designer Eric Marlow appreciates 
this and has cast a navel in 

solid bronze and made a belt 
buckle out of it, which he sells 
for $15. J£ by some quirk 

of fate you're not a bb. 

freak, try a bronze-onsterling 
nipple medal, $45. (Both 

from Box 28224, Columbus, 
Ohio.) And if by some slight 
chance you're neither, go 

bite a dog, you prevert. 


Yes, violence buffs, relief is in sight, courtesy of Warner Bros., 
from all the good-will-to-men jive that you'll soon be getting from 
street-corner Santas. This month, Clint Eastwood as hard-nosed. 
Dirty Harry is scheduled to ride again through the crime-packed 
alleys of San Francisco. His vehicle this time is Magnum 
so-named for the trusty .14 Harry prefers never to be 
Holbrook costars as Harry's disgruntled superior in crime prevention, 
"Ted Post directs and the script is from a story by John Milius. Ka-chow! 


CUTTING THE CORD 


If Ma Bell's latest model doesn't 
keep you in touch with enough 
people, take note: A completely 
cordless telephone, which sells 
for $350 postpaid, has been 
developed by Hugle International 
(625 Ellis Street, Mountain View, 
California). It operates via a 

base unit transmitter that plugs 
into your phone jack and a 
110-volt outlet. Then you just 
raise the antenna on the battery- 
powered rechargeable push 
button shown at right and stroll 
wherever you please—or even 
floatabout your pool—provided 
you stay within 200 feet of the 
transmitter. Hello, sweetie, come 
on over, the water's... glub. 


307 


PLAYBOY 


308 


PLAYBOY FORUM (continued from page 305) 


from Tucson to Phoenix. Four of us went 
to see the governor, presenting him with 
an 8000-signature petition asking for 
al session of the legislature to pass 
bills regu g operations, which 
he rejected. At the prompting of state 
ator John Scott Ulm, who is a strong 
opponent of the mining companies’ ex- 

s е, senator Willi 
president of the senate, met with 
the marchers. He promised to help draw 
up the bills we wanted and to get a spe- 
session to get the bills passed. Now 
we're waiting. 

The Federal mining law were fight- 
ing affects not only Arizona but also 
Utah, Nevada, Colorado and a number 
of other Western states in which the G 
ernment has reserved 
e hoping for n; support. 
those who want to help to write to 
5.М.А.К. Р.О. Box 26107, Tucson, 
Arizona 85723. 

One image stands out in my mind as a 
r demonstration of what we're up 
inst. Alter our meeting with the gov- 


or, | took a look at the seal of the 
ate in the capitol. It depicted a beau 
ful sunset, lovely scenery and a miner 

standing in the foreground, pick and 

shovel in hand. 

John D. Krygelski 

Public Relations Director 

SMART. 


"Tucson, Arizona 


HOW NOT TO FIGHT CRIME 

Alter spending two years in study 
$1,750,000, th Com- 
mission on Cı dards 
nd Goals, appointed by the U.S. De- 
partment of Justice in 1971, has made 
many sound proposals for fighting crime 
and one proposal that is disastrous. 
The commission recognizes the folly 
ıd wastelulness of laws ag: 
les crimes such as gambling, prostiru- 
pornography, marijuana use and 
te sex acts between consenting 
adults. It recommends that states re-ev: 
uate such laws and, at the very least, 


“Yet, where would we be, you and I, if he had not 
fleeced widows and orphans?” 


abolish prison sentences for offenses in 
most cases. The commission's report also 
proposes cutting back on the prison sys 
tem, reducing sentences, seeking 
tives to incarceration and guai 
prisoners more rights and pr 
suggests that law-enforcement authoritic 
concentrate maximum effort on reducing 
murder, rape, aggravated assault, robbery 
and оша: 

With all of this, I agree. Bur then the 
report Gills on state governments to 
limit possession of handguns to the po- 
and the military by 1983, to "ac- 
quire” (cute word) all privately owned 
handguns and to render collectors’ items 
operative. 

For as Jong as anyone can remember, 
the antigun forces in this country have 
been condemning those firearms owners 
who have adamantly resisted efforts to 
pass laws requiring the registration of 
apons. The idea that registration leads 
to confiscation was scoffed at as just an- 
other example of gun-nnt paranoia. The 
commission's proposal has proved that 
confiscation—or acquisition, if you pre- 


atit) (its Sy mehr or ere tay 
seem calmly prepared to create a whole 
Is out of gun owners, 
spected the law 


going to work any 
t handgun ownership than it did 
juana or any other 

"problem" that millions of Ame 


consider a basic personal right. 


Minnesota 


DEFYING THE GUN LOBBY 

At last am official body—the National 
Advisory Commission on Criminal Jus 
tice Standards and Goals—has had the 
courage to defy the gun lobby and to rec 
ommend the confiscation of handguns. 
"The only purpose of such weapons is kill 
ing people. Ma n owners will how! 
but, for the sake of the thousands of in- 
nocent people not yet murdered by 
bulles or robbed at gunpoint, | hope 
this sensible proposal isn't rejected. by 
vote-hungry politi 


as. 
William Smith 
ewark, New Jersey 


"The Playboy Forum" offers the 
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 10 The Playboy Forum, 
Playboy Building, 919 North Michi- 
venue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. 


DEWARS PROFILES 


(Pronounced Do-ers “White Label”) 


JOHN ALAN STOCK 


HOME: Chesapeake, Virginia 

AGE: 28 

PROFESSION: Architect/Urban Planner 
HOBBIES: Animated cinematography, 

tennis, wine-making. 

LAST BOOK READ: "Capitalism, the 
Unknown Ideal" by Ayn Rand 

LAST ACCOMPLISHMENT: Preliminary 
design for Underwater Housing Development 
Study for human occupancy. 

QUOTE: “The urban planner in the 20th 
century must lead people from the world of the 
practieal into the realm of dreams and then back 
again in a way that makes dreams possible.” 


PROFILE: An individualist. A creative 


Authentic. There are more than a thousand ways 


thinker. Optimistic about the future of mankind, le Pieno anang т Seland bii fewara ELS pa 

oC E TENE eh TR M YE or Dewar's “White Label." The quality standards we se! 

yet concerned enough to take a leadership role. down In 1846 have never varied. Into each drep go only 

SCOTCH: Dewar's “White Label” the finest whiskies from the Highlands, the Lowlands, the 
Hebrides. 


Dewar's never varies. з 


found them in the handwriting or in the 
Yeats. “You're artistic, you dislike routine 
and you're a nonconformist.” 

Which was why I was on my sixth cup 
of coffee at Caesars with her, awaiting 
the arrival of her new boyfriend, Sonny 
Iver (this and all other names are 
fictitious). Writers, she had said, were 
good listeners, and she had filled me 
on the mastectomy wi off the 
pastram 

You're going to like Sonny,” she said. 
“I read his hand and knew right away 
that he was in some kind of athletics. 
You could tell." 

You certainly could. Sonny Silver was 
47994” tall and was an cxjockey. He 
worked for one of the biggest comedians 
on the Strip as a combination gofer, mas- 
seur, bookie and pimp. His profession 
was unique to Vegas; he was a si 
He had been the side-kick to a singer be- 
fore the comic and to one of the People 
before that. He made them laugh, he 
knew where to get a knish at five in the 
morning and that the fifth at Hollywood 
k was a bont race and that there was 
hooker on the Strip who would pop her 
glass eye and take it in the socket. 

How you hitting them, slugger?” he 
said when we shook hands, He pointed 
to Maisy Morgan. "She tell you about 

he bool 

1 did not quite know what to say. 

“She tells everyone about that tit. You 
know, I think she's really looking for it. 
She's going to be driving down the Strip 
one night and here's this tit walking out 
the front door of the Desert Inn. With 
Howard Hughes. The first time anyone's 
seen Howard in forty-two years. But I 
knew Howard in the old days and if 
there was one thing he could never pass 
up. it was a good tit.” 

Maisy Morgan was slapping the 
shaking with mirth, “Sonny, you really 
make me laugh.” 

‘ou know, I could have made it i 


PLAYBOY 


big room," Sonny Silver said. "Bur you 
got to be five feet tall. 1 defy you to name 
me one comic under five feet ta 


Mickey Room 
ive, two and three eiphths." 
Sonny Silver ordered a Shirley T 


ple. He said he never drank hard 
liquor. The comic he worked for was a 
heavy boorer and Sonny said it was up 


to him to be a good example. The comic 
billed Sonny Silver as "entertainment. 
coordinator." 

"People ask me what an entertainment 
coordinator is,” Sonny Silver said, "and 
you know what I tell them?” He cupped 
his hand over the side of his mouth. 
* How much does the chick cos 

“Sonny, show John your trick," Maisy 


210 Morgan s. 


TOWN SO TOUGH ыы ол page 20) 


"You want to see my tric 

Sure” 

“Then ГИ show you my trick." 

Sonny Silver reached. into his jacket 
and drew out a long sheet of lined paper. 
Ar the top of the paper he wrote down 
number 68.000. 
“Sixty-eight thou: 
Morgan said. “Jt w 
this mo 


d, Sonny.” Maisy 
only sixty thousand 


imp." Sonn 
Silver said. He mentioned the comic. “We 
had the house debugged. You know, half 
this town is wired. My friend and I, we 
make a lot of bets around the country. I 
know people at all the tracks. They say. 
"Майку Tit in the fourth? so we get 
lite action down it to one, that 
thirty-1wo grand at Del Mar alone. The 
Feds know that, so they put a wire on 
your phone- 1 tell my friend I know a guy 
who can find the wire. So he comes in. 
finds the wire and for a couple of d 
you don't have the eagle on your ass. You 
get the eagle on your ass in this coun 
and you are in big trouble. The bastards 


worth, it was the eagle.” 
“You better start, Sonn 


2" Maisy Mor 


Sonny Silver took a gold pencil from 
his pocket. He said it was a personal gift 

mmy Davis Jr. On the sheet of 
he began to write down numbers, 


fom 
papel 


one, two, three, four, five, six, seven. 
eight nine, ten, eleven. Maisy and 1 
watched silently. trying not to interrupt 


Sonny Silver's concentration. The min- 
wes passed. Sonny Silver wrote on, oc- 
casionally shaking his wrist to ward off 

i mp- The numbers piled up on 

435, 436, 437. Ten min 

utes. Fifteen. Twenty. No one sa 

word. Finally, with a wiumphant flour- 
ish, Sonny Silver wrote 69.000 at the bot 
tom of the back of the paper. 

“L bet you never seen anything like 
in your life,” Sonny Silver said. 

1 still was not quite sure what 1 had. 
just spent 22 minutes watching. 

"I counted to à thousand,” Sonny $ 
versaid. 

Why? 
"Because I'm counting to a milli 
“Oh. 

“I bet you never met anyone 
whole life who's counted 10 a million.” 

“No.” 

"I've done it three times.” 

hat means that Sox 

three million, if you add it all up, 

Morgan said. 

"I guess that’s what it means," I said 
It's a very simple operation.” Sonny 

Silver said. "I take Sammy Davis’ pencil 

here and three t 

a thousand," 


n your 


"s counted to 
Maisy 


‘That's three thousand а day," Maisy 
Morgan said. 
te it all down just so I gor a rec 
ord of it. You know, there's people in 
this town, you tell them you've counted 
10 a million, they won't believe you. 

"Yeah. I can believe that," I said. 
about twenty minutes to a half 
hour every time I count to a thousand. 1 
write the number I begin with at the top 
of the page, the number E end with at the 
bottom. To double-check, so to speak. 

T nodded. 

‘Any more than three times a day, you 
tend to lose interest,” Sonny Silver said. 
“Less than that, the whole operation 
would take too long.” 

"You wouldn't want that.’ 

“Did it once in three hundred and 
thirty-three days. The longest was three 
hundred and forty-five days. And I got a 
record of every page. Signed, with the 
date. You want to witness this one? 

I signed my name with Sammy Day 
gold pencil on the page full of numbers. 
Tasked what he did with the pages. 

Sonny Silver said he gave them to the 
comic, “It makes him laugh. He shows 
them to real superstars, Buddy Hackett 
ink Gorsl 
It really makes them laugh," Maisy 
Morgan said. “I've seen them.” 

“And people ask what an enter 
ment coordinator doe 
said. 


s depressed. It had been a bad 
day nhattan Beauty College. 
She blamed it on the recession, "That 
g Nixon. She wasn't political, she 
ad never registered to vote. Register to 
nd she might be called to jury duty 
па if she were called to jury duty, it 
would be hard to work. Although it 
might be nice, when a judge asked what 
she did. - "I blow a lot of guys.” 
That would shake up his Honor. Fuck 
him. And Nixon, too. There was a reces- 
ion, he was in the White House, he 
should have fixed it Artha blamed 
Nixon for getting busted. It was the first 
time she had been busted since Milwau- 
kee, and that was for carrying reds, This 
time the bust was for hooking. It was 
Nixon's recession, it was his fault. When 
she applied to the Manhattan Beauty 
College, she had thought she would hook 
only on weekends. That would keep her 
going and leave her time to study on 
week nights. But the recession had hit 
Vegas so hard that she was now forced to 
work during the week, She was not doing 
her homework: she had begun to cut 
asses. Pt was difficult to take а three 
o'clock date and then get up for an eight- 
‘lock class. It was better to cut the class 
liogether than to be tired and make a 
mistake in ting. She was 
tired all the time now. The nights were 
longer. There were so few high rollers 


to sa 


saint! 


“You're jolly, Nick, but you ain't no s 


311 


PLAYBOY 


312 


around that the pits were not coming 
through with the steady good tricks and 
she had started to cruise. Because of the 
recession. And cruising was how she got 
busted. Right off a blackjack table at the 
Landmark. 

Artha had stopped to play a hand of 
21. She did not gamble much, She just 
wanted to rest her feet. And be on di: 
play. A single girl at а blackjack table 


three in the morning, Even the rubes 
could figure that out. She had been cruis- 


ing since midnight with no luck. The se- 
cret of cruising was to keep moving. 
Caesars first, then the Tropicana, then 
the Sands, No luck. No more than two 
drinks in any casino. Stay for more than 
two drinks without making a connection 
and hotel security begins to get nervous. 
The hotels draw a very fine line, They 
like the girls available for the roller who 
wants a pop, but then they don't want 
the casino to look like a lamppost. So two. 
drinks and move on. Artha had talked to 
a lot of guys. Lookers, talkers, guys who 
wanted to negotiate. The nice thing 
about working out of the pits was th: 
there was no negotiating. That was all 
fixed beforehand. A hundred dollars, 
cash or chips. Cruising was diflerent. 
There was always some dude who got his 
rocks off negotiating. A hundred dollars 


to $50, $50 to $30. At three o'clock in the 
morning with no hits, even S30 looked 
good. Then the guy would say no, he 
thought not, it was a little steep. Fuck 
him. That kind of guy was trouble. When 
she first got to Vegas, before she made he 
connections in the pits, she had always 
cruised with a friend. If she got a trick, 
she would tell her friend his room num- 
bcr. If she was not down in an hour, give 
the room a call. There were guys who 

ed to work a girl over, a little punch i 
the tit to liven up the evening. So call 
an hour to see if I'm OK. It was better to 
be safe than sorry. 

Artha was tired at the Landmark. Her 
feet hurt and she did not feel like mov- 
ng on to the 5 That was her mis 
take; she did not keep moving. She 
looked up and saw the cop beckoning to 
her. She had never seen him before, but 


she knew he was not just another john. 
Johns never beckon. They always ask for 
a match or the time or say what a nice 


night it is or how lucky they feel. Only 
the vice crook their finger. When a dude 
snaps his finger, beckons with his hand 
and wears a small American flag in 
lapel, a working girl can be sure 
it's the vice. 

She went along. A girl always went 
along. It was not smart to cause trouble, 


“You didn't just mak. 


silly jokes, no, sir! You 


really gave us something to think about.” 


She wanted to work the Landmark again 
and if she caused a scene, she never 
would. Hotel security would be on her 
s before she got through the automatic 
door. Nor did the vicc want to cause a 
scene. The hotel would disapprove and 
the hotel had too much juice downtown. 
The only dilference between getting 
busted and walking out of the hotel with 
a trick was that she did nor take the cop's 
arm. Nobody could tell what was hap- 
pening except hotel security and some of 
the people in the pits. No one scemed to 
notice, not even a blackjack dealer who 
had turned a S50 pop over to her the 
might before. Before the recession, the 
dealer used to turn her on to a couple of 
wicks a week. Artha had never turned 
any money over to him. He had balled 
her a few times and there was one thing 
about him that she particularly liked. He 
had never asked to go to her apartment. 
She would have let him, but he never 
asked. He lived in a two-bedroom apart- 
ment on the west side of the Suip and 
sometimes after a date, she would play a 
couple of hands at his table and he 
would say that if she was not busy, he got 
off in a half hour or so. That was all, 
nothing more. Sometimes she would say 
yes and other times, when she was tired 
or had had too much action, she would 
smile and say no. “You're at the end of a 
long line,” she would say, and he would 
Laugh and deal her another hand. He 
never paid. That was part of the bargain. 
she did not turn him down too ofte 
“Times were too tough and the supply far 
exceeded the demand. If a girl wanted to 
a living, she could not tell a good 
contact in the pits to go take a cold 
shower every time he hinted around for 
a freebi 

Only her contacts got the free pu 
All the other locals paid. Artha h 
ked out an elaborate pay scale for the 
locals. She let a dealer go for a “quarter,” 
or $25, a pit boss for a half, or $50, It w: 


w 


anted up $150 every time. The cxtra $50 
so the girl would not м: n. He 


seemed to him too profesio: 
money did not make it professional, only 
the washing. That was how Artha had 
lost him as a trick. She had washed his 
joint first thing. He Jet her finish, but 


even worked his hotel. She was 
afraid that because she had soaped his 
joint he had put the word out for hotel 
security to lean on her if she ever came 
in. It was too bad, but she washed every- 
onc, she did not care who he was. She 
said it was going to be difficult for her if 
she ever got married, because on her wed- 
ding night she was sure to take a wash- 
cloth, some soap and warm water, and 


that would not look right. But it 
paid off. She had got the clap only once 
d that was when she was in high school 
Wisconsin. She was almost sure she 
had caught it from a boy named Walter 
Keenan, whose brother was a Dominican 
priest and whose mother was a 
the Society of Saint Vincent de F 

Arıha often wondered how she had 
ged to catch the clap only once, 
even with all the washing. She had 
played around with a very rough group 
in Milwaukee, spades mainly, numbers 
people, pimps, second-story men, some 
dealers in reds. She had never taken to 
drugs. She simply did mot like them. 
“They just don't agree with me,” she 
said. She had taken up with a black pimp 
after her baby was born, There 
black girl in the maternity ward with 
her and the pimp had come to see her a 
couple of times, but he had spent most of 
his time talking to Artha. She had never 
balled a black man before, although at 
that time she never called them blacks. 
In the part of Milwaukee where she was 
brought up, blacks were “niggers,” and it 
surprised her when she got out of the 
hospital and began going with the pimp 
that the blacks called each other nigger, 
although they did not much like it if a 
white person did. She went with 
pimp for several months and he bought 


ma 


was а 


the 


her clothes and paid for her apartment 
and one day when he asked her to do a 
white friend a favor and work a house in 
Antigo, Wisconsin, she said, “Why not 
Antigo is in the potato and lumber coun 
пу and the house was a twogirl affair 
and she was expected to service anyone 
who came through the door. The other 
girl did not seem to be around and the 
madam said the other girl was having her 
period, but a couple of days later Artha 
learned that a lumberjack had laid open 
the girl's skull with an ax handle. It was 
an accident: he was drunk; the girl 
would live. Artha was not reassured. She 
had arrived in Antigo on the bus on a 
Tuesday and was back in Milwaukee 
day afternoon, missing the big weekend 
rush in the lumber country. But in the 
slow middle of the week in Antigo, Tues- 
day night, Wednesday night and Thurs- 
day night, she had serviced 31 potato 
farmers and Jumberjacks, and that 
seemed more than adequate payment for 
the clothes and the apartment the pimp 
had given her. 

She took up with another pimp, who 
took her to Chicago and set her up in a 
cheap hotel on the 1000 block of North 
Clark Street, three dollars a night for 
the room, and every trick paid the three, 
so the hotel did not mind the heavy waf- 
fic. There was a coin-operated television 
set in the room, 25 cents for a half hour 


of TV time, and she balled the night 
derk for a roll of quarters in order to 
watch The Man from U. N.C. L. E. and 
her other favorites between tricks. The 
night clerk's name was Opatashu and he 
had cancer of the rectum and he shit out 
of his side into a little bag attached to his 
waist. But he was staight—on, olf, no 
tricks, no gimmicks, not like some of the 
guys she met on North Clark Street, espe. 
cially the one with the hot plate. The 
john with the hot plate would carry it 
around with him and when he picked up. 
a girl, he would fry up a couple of eggs in 
her room, dump the eggs on her pussy 
nd then eat them with a plastic knife 
nd fork. That was all, nothing more, ex 
cept the yolk from the sunny side up 
crusting in her pubes. Opatashu died 
while she was on North Clark Street and 
she went to his funeral. It was something 
to do, she did not like to waste her quar- 
ters on the game shows on TV in the 
afternoon and the local cooking show 
reminded her of the john with the hot 
plate. The assistant manager and the 
housekeeper of the hotel were at the 
cemetery, and it struck Artha that it was 
а sad way to die, cancer of the asshole, 
poor Opatashu, no place even to crap out 
of in the end, attended at death only by 
a fag, a hooker and a spade maid. 

Chicago was the farthest east she had 
ever been. She wanted to sce New York 


Lighters shown, $3.95 to $5.95 
Precious metals to $560.00 


“it will work, always, 
or we will fix it free! 


Zippo Manufacturing Co. Bradford, Pa. 16701 
In Canada: Zippo Mfg. Co. of Canada, Ltd. 


PLAYBOY 


314 head. Beu 


“Who was that masked man? I wanted to thank him.” 


someday, but the place that really inrer- 
ested her was Bullalo. No reason. She 
just liked the name. She did nor even 
know anyone there. She was like that 
about cities. If the name was nice, the 
city was probably nice. Another city she 
thought would be an allright place was 
Macon, Georgia. Once she had tricked a 
john from Macon. He was in the dental- 
supply business and was in Vegas for 
convention and told her he wanted 
“the W. F. W. 

"What's that?” 

“The whole fucking works. 
said. “It’s a Macon expression 

W. F.W. She liked that and eased it 
into a conversation whenever she got the 
ch restaurant she would order 
el with the W. E. W. and if the 
waiter looked at her swangely, she would 
say. “The whole fucking works, its a 
Macon expresion." That was a nice 
thing about Vegas; the waiters never bat- 
ted an сус. They had heard it all, d 
W. F. W. When a trick took her ro d 
she would immediately call for the wine 
list. She always ordered wine by the num- 
ber on the list. “Number sixty-nine,” she 
would say. It was cute the way the waiters 
always got the joke, 

"May | recom 
y five." they would. 
That's four short,” she would say 

She had been in Vegas five years. Long 
enough to learn all the tricks. She free 
Tanced for a while, until she met a couple 
of hell capt But the trouble with 
hooking through the bell captains or the 
bdrivers was that they took 10 percent. 
Off the top. Working out of the pits was 
not as steady, but there was less ove 
free pussy to every dealer in 


` he had 


EET 


nner 


number 


town than 10 percent. The barmen got to 
know her. That was imporiant. They 
would tell her when the vice way making 
a sweep through the hotel and she would 
disappear into the ladies room. Once 
while she was cruising the Sands, the hear 
made a swing through the casino and 
when she disappeared into the ca 
old broad in a silver pants suit offered 
50 to watch her take a leak. Artha had 
to take a Teak anyway, so it was no prob- 
lem. That was another thing she liked 
about Vegas: It was possible to turn a 
Mein S 

She kept moving, she never got busted. 
Until the recession. Nixon's recession. Not 
that she ever got careless. It was too casy 
to run afoul of the heat. One of the first 
things she did when she got to Vegas w 
10 get herself a bail bondsman. Just in 
case she did get busted. The bail bonds- 
man’s D 
the hookers on the Strip used 
easy 10 


sons and most of 
m. [t was 
ad him in the Yellow Pages. He 
lvenised himself as "Friend of the 
Working Girl" She gave Bill Parsons a 
$50 cashier's check so that in case she did 
get busted, he could bail her right out. 
d she got herself a lawyer. Again, just 
in case. The charge in a hooking bust was 
loitering. It was j 
ing tactic the vice used to keep cruising 
in the casinos within reason. The vice 
would never bust a gil when she was 
with a wick, There was no knowing how 
much juice the trick had. He could be an 
optometrist, but then again he could be 
the chief of police in Broken Butte, Ar- 
kansas. Or one of the People. Or some- 
one with a $30.000 I; at the 
‘The kind of people it was best 
not to mess with. 


me was 


usually st a harass- 


е of credi 


Tt was just Artha’s bad luck that she 
was alone and that it was after midnight 
If she had been busted before midnight, 
she could have made bail and been back 
in th inos within the hour. But after 
midnight you have to spend the night in 
the tank. She made her one call to Bill 
Parsons and he said he would get her out 
the next morning. She seed in for the 
night. Or what was left of it. Iu knee 
boots and a black-velvet pants suit. The 
only excitement was when a spade tricd 
to pinch her sausage-curl wig. Artha told 
the spade she would get a kick in the 
cunt if she was not careful. It was tou 
enough to cruise in the recession without 
а boot up the twat. The spade got the 
message 

Artha was out by ei 
ing. She gave Bill Parsons another 
check to cover the bond for the next time 
she was busted and went home to bed. 
She would not have to appear in court. 
Vag loitering was a misdemeanor and the 
cases were always dismissed. But the Iaw- 
yer cost $100, and with Bill Parsons’ $50, 
that meant a C and а half. And no tricks 
to cover it. She would have to cruise 
again th ht. Which is what caused 
all the trouble at the Manhattan. Beauty 
College. 

The problem was that she had missed 
the lessons about applying the solution 
for a permanent. Because she was work- 
ing nights and cutting classes the next 
day. At school she was now on the floor 
and over the past weck she had picked 
up 57.85 in tips while doing 521.50 worth 
of work. What she had learned, she had 
armed well. She was good at dyes and 
tints into ens, practicing 
on the wigs and falls that the Manha 
College kept on blocks for the 
students to work on. The customers of 
the college were all women who worked 
downtown, older women, mostly, the 
kind who want rinses and permanents 
d want them done cheaply. Artha had 
done a rinse and a tint that morning and 
she had performed both jobs metic 
Tously. She was not fast, but she was thor- 
ough, and speed would come Later. What 
was important now was learning how t0 
do the job right. Everyth 


well until this old br s came 
in and demanded a pe Artha 
was the only girl free on the floor. She 


did not have permanents down yet, but 
it was worth a try. She put on too much 
n хо complain. 
as tired, she 


She zed 


how little sleep she h 
Fist the night in the 
night, trying to make up for it, with a 
man from Chicago who dealt in po 
futures. She had spent the evening with 
1 the аар tables at the R. nd 
then, when she finally got him to his 
тоот, he could not ger it up. She worked 


К. then 


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PLAYBOY 


316 


on him for two hours, until 4:30 in the 
morning. The john was in for $100, but 
when he could not make it, he demanded 
$50 back. She had first told him to go 
fuck himself and then she remembered 
the night in the tank and returned the 
$50. Two nights in the tank were two too 
And now this old bitch way com- 
plaining about the solution. It was b 
ing her scalp, it was splicing the hair 
ends. Mr. Luigi ordered Artha off the 
floor and began to soothe the customer. 
Her permanent would be free. Mr. 
Luigi would perform it himself, That 
old bitch. Fuck her. Fuck the recession. 
Fuck Nixon. 


шац 


Buster Mano filleted a Hostess Twin- 
kie as neatly as if it were a Dover sole. 
With a butter knife he scooped the 
cream filling from each half of the cake. 
leaving a hollow in cach like a pitted 
avocado. Buster never ate the cream in a 
Twinkie; he claimed the filling made 
im bind up. His lower intestine was a 
Dunkirk always waiting to be eyacuated 
and Buster kept up-to-the minute status 
reports on the departure readiness of his 
bowels. He signaled the waitress for a 
half cup of coffee. Hot and weak. The 
waitress extracted a pencil from the 
northern extremities of her lavender-tint- 
ed beehive and pondered the order. A 
ilf cup, hot and weak. 

I don't know about that," she said. 
Ihe plastic name tag on her unilorm 
identified her as Reeta. 
now about what? 


Buster Mano 


said. 
“We don’t serve half cups at Denny's.” 
А whole cup tends to get cold before 
you finish,” Buster Mano said. 
“I'd have to charge you for a full cuy 
Reeta persisted. 


ys all the coffee you can 
drink for the price of a cup,” Buster 
id. "So it docsu't matter if the 
ast cups a whole cup or a half cup. 
does it?” 
1 guess I never really thought of it 
that way,” Reeta said. 
“Takes thinking,” Buster M 
“A half cup, then 
Reeta studied her order pad. “You 
wouldn't mind if I wrote down a full cup 
on the check and not a half cup, would 
you?" she said. "The boss mipht think 
it's funny, you know, order 
cup." 


o said. 


ure thin; 
оште nice. You from Vegas: 
Buster shook his head and m. 


the name of a Midwestern city. 

“The nice ones never come from 
Vegas,” Reeta said. “I'm from Fresno 
and, believe me, have I gota story 


7I bet,” Buster Mano said, not unkind- 
ly. “The coffee.” 
“Half cup comi 


and 


Buster quartered his Twinkie 
dunked a quadrant into the 
colfee. He closed his eyes as he ate, smi 


ing to himself, and then finally hc said, 


eyes still shut, “Lester Pugh.” 
I did not realize I was supposed to 
reply. 
Buster opened his eyes and dabbed a 


from his ester 


piece of Twi 
Pugh,” he repeated. 

T took the bait. "Who is Lester Pugh? 
o smiled. "Leser Pugh, 

is a loser.” 

A casino downtown had asked Buster 
Mano to locate Lester Pugh. It was а 
small matter. Lester Pugh had run out 
a marker of $2700 and dropped out of 
sight. His telephone had been discon- 
nected and a hooker named Moreen was 
now living in his apartment. Moreen had 
never heard of Lester Pugh. Moreen 
said she had put two months’ rent dow: 
on the apartment and to leave her the 
fuck alone. She had juice, she had a 
boyfriend who had eight points in the 
‘Thunderbird and her boyfriend had con- 
nections downtown and his connections 
would lean on anyone who bothered he 
Who the fuck was Lester Pugh, anyway 
A nobod 

Moreen was right. Lester Pugh was a 
nobody and the casino decided to let 
matters drop. Gambling debts axe legally 
uncollectible and 52700 was not enou 
to get upsct over. Better to cat 
pecially when it might cost two bills to 
find Lester Pugh. Nor was $2700 worth 
any rough stuff. Not that Lester Ри 
ppearance did not rankle. Money 
was money, there was a principle in- 
volved. It was just that it was hard to 
Pugh in terms of princi- 


ps. 


d 


a steady player. a good 
er, he knew the layout and figured 
the percentages. A quiet little fellow. 


from Fort Smith, Arkansas. The only 
g that anyone could really remember 
him was that he hated the niggers. 
ughter had drowned in an inte- 
grated community swimming pool in 
Fort Smith and Lester Pugh blamed 
Martin Luther King. It was a stretch, but 
everything about Lester Pugh was a 
sueth. He came (o Vegas after his 
daughter died and got a job selling dice. 
Dice and the Reverend M. L. King were 
the only things Lester Pugh ever 
about. Always M. L. King. never Mar 
Luther King. He liked to hold a p: 
of dice in his hand and talk about the. 
tolerances. Precision milled to one ten- 
thousandth of an inch. Sand-finished rath- 
er than clear, because the added friction 
gave dice more action on the table. He 
would stand at a crap table at three 
o'clock in the morning and talk about 
dice. He always gambled downtown. 
There were too many Jews on the Strip. 
Jews and M. L. King, there was the 


trouble with the world. A pair of dice 
was the only thing that had any meaning. 
Lester Pugh claimed to sell 8000 pairs of 
dice a month, $1.40 a pair. It was a good 
ing, he had no major expenses. Just a 
girlfriend, а dim number with no tits 
who had flunked the dealer's test at a 
gambling school—ihe blackjack test, the 
easiest one to learn. A typical Lester 
Pugh girlfriend. The girlfriend never 
went gambling with Lester Pugh. He 
would always stand at the table alone 
and go into his monolog about dice. 
Never to anyone in particular, just to 
nself If anyone was listening, fine. Te 
was for this reason that there was never 
much action at any table where Lester 


world that has any meaning. Three 
quarters of an inch to a side, edges razor 
sharp, made from cellulose nitrate, you 
call it celluloid, heaviest of all the ther 
moplastics, the spots are flush, that’s be 
cause recessed spots make the six side too 
light, 1 bet you didn't know the heat 
from your hand distorts the tolerance, 30 
days, that’s as long as you should keep 
dice on the shelf, alter that give them to 
the U.S. О. Lester Pugh was а nut about 
dice, as he was about M, L. Ki 

It was a pit boss from the casino down- 
town who spotted Lester Pugh coming 
out of the Valley Bank of Nevada in 
Henderson. ‘The pit boss had 
talked to Lester Pugh about dice and he 
knew there was 2 $2700 ma T and that 
Lester had quit his job and left town 
four months before. Or so everyone had 
surmised. The pit boss told his shift boss 
that he had scen Lester Pugh in Hen- 
derson and the shift manager told the ca- 
sino manager and the casino manager 
called Buster Mano. Tt was not the sort of 
ме that Buster Ma ly took oi 
but he was offered not only his time but 
five percent of the marker. Buster said 
ten percent or find another boy. Seven 
and f, the casino manager said. Te 
Buster Mano repe: аз a matter 
of some honor with him. It was Buster's 
on that the People con- 
trolled casinos and when dealing 
with the People, the only way one could 
Ivage some dignity was to get top dol- 
lar. That is the only language they 
understand, Buster would say. Never 
mind that ten percent in this case is only 
5270. i top dollar, And $270 plus 
time is better than a kick in the as 

Buster Mano got his ten percent and 
immediately went to work. He sent a 
leucr in a windowed envelope to Lester 
Pugh's Jast-known address, knowing the 
post office would not forward the letter 
but would probably put the forwarding 
address he had requested on it before 
returning it to him. The letter came back 
to Buster Mano address unknown and he 


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PLAYBOY 


318 


arefully noted on his expense sheet, 
One U.S. stamp—eight cents." Next he 
checked his IBM printout of power- 
meter credits. Anyone who had trans- 
ferred his utilities over the past year was 
isted in that book. Again, no luck. Buster 
placed a call to the casino manager. 

"Whats the name of Lester 
friend?” 

“The one with no 
She might have three tits, for all I 
know.” 

“T'I get back to yo 

The name of the girl with no tits was 
LaVerne. No known last name, She had 
once worked as a cocktail waitress at the 
Stardust. Buster calle friend in the se 
curity office of the Stardust. The friend 
said he would see what he could do. On 
his expense sheet Buster noted, “Two 
telephone calls—20 cents.” 
The friend at the Stardust called back 
c next day. “LaVerne Burdette. A real 
dumbbell. No tits.” 

Buster checked the power company 
printout. Four months earlier, LaVerne 
Burdette had moved from an apartment 
on Rome in Las Vegas to another in Hen- 
derson. Her new telephone number was 
. Buster dialed the number. 

“Hello.” 

“LaVerne Burdette?" Bust 
was up half an octave, quick, exhilara 
Yes." 

"Les Lacy, LaVe 
sound of Las Ve 
Тез” 

How about that, LaVerne? I bet 
you're not even thirty yourself. You sound 
ikea... twenty-four. 

"I'm iwenryseven, Les.” 

“How about that? Ма 
өг yet, Les. 
But a boyfriend 


рз 


$ voice 
ed. 


ic, KENO Radio, the 
for ov n 


d, La 


hough. rightz" 


lu 


y young 
man do?” 
“He's in sales." 
“In sales! How about that? Wha 
he sell? 
“Patio furnitur 
“Patio furniture ^n 
wouldn't be for White Front, would 
White Front is a sponsor, got to get 
every plug we can, you understand that, 
I bet, LaVerne.” 
1 sure do, Les. He works for Mojave 
Lawn and Patio. 

"Would you believe 
sponsor, LaVerne 

“This is just so wonderful, Les." 

“And it's going to be even more won- 
ful, listen, 
rd my show 
"Oh, sure, Les." 

“Well. you know we 
LaVerne, if you can answer the lucky 
question.” 

“I never w 


docs 


How about ths 


thar’s another 


ow, 


уо! 


anything, Les." 


"Your luck is going to 
here, LaVerne. Ready or 
comes. 

"I'm so scared." 

“Irs a tough one, LaVerne. Now. for 
the original sound-track album of The 
Sound of Music. 1 want you to tell me 
who was the star of the movie version of 
at hit Broadway musical.” 

+ Andrews," 

ne, I thought you told me you 
anything, but you have just 
won an original sound-track album of 
The Sound oj Music with Julie Andrews 
and all those other great stars, Isn't that 


change right 
not, here it 


there's just о 
Tve already got Julie on The 
Sound of Music 

“LaVerne, sweetie, now you've got 
two. Let me ask you something. You got 


"Sure do, Les.” 

“Wal, now, with your new album, 
you've got your mom her Christmas pres- 
ent next December. A little carly Christ- 


mas shopping, LaVeri t that 
exciting? 
"It sure is, Les 


“Ciao, LaVerne, it's been great tal 
to you.” 

Buster Mano hung up, His brow was 
beaded with sweat. A long low fart whis- 
tled through his office. 

“Jesus, 1 thought 1 was going to cut 
one when I was talking to her.” Buster 
no said. “It would have blown the 
whole number. Maybe I blew it anyway. 
1 should have told her the show was on 
ng the dials 
ng to find me.” He farted 
‘Oh, well, you live and learn,” 
Buster Mano 


^ Lasked. 
“Why what?” Buste 
“Why do you do i 


"s my motivatic 


hole. 
the next morning and Buster 
Mano and I were driving to the casino 
downtown with the information. about 
Lester Pugh. Buster had called Mc 
Lawn d they had volun- 
teered Pugh would mat 


ied. terrazzo benches?” Buster 
d asked. 

‘Oh, absolutely. Stain resistant to any 
food and drink.” 

“Just what Fm looking for,” Bus 
Mano had said. 

‘There was a tape recorder beside me 
on the front seat of the car and the 
seue was monitoring our conversation. 
Buster hefted the tape recorder in his 
hand. 


Im trying to find Lester Pugh; 
you're trying to find me; there's no dif- 
ference. You're the same kind of Peeping 
Tom I am. Except I don't give a shit. I 
like looking for people and I deared 
eighteen grand last year before taxes. So 
don't give me that crap about mot 
tion. Motivation is a very poor explana- 
tion of character." 

1 shut off the tape recorder. 

"No dramatic gestures," Buster Mano 
said. He switched the machine back on. 
“By the way. did you fuck that spade who 
was in your apartment that nigh 

We parked the car and went into the 
casino. Buster never gambled, but he 
knew a number of the players at the ta- 
bles. Buster preferred downtown to the 
Strip. It was a city and he understood 
cs. Cities meant failure and he was a 
connoisseur of failure. 

“Buster.” 

“How arc yo 
k Eastern, Buster 
I'd know you anywhere, Jack.” 
"What's it been, Buster?” 

Three years anyway, Jack. You're 
looking good.” 


g good. Buster. I'm sev- 
ars old. 


"Stopped playing goll four yea 
What are you doing for exercise 
I'd walk up Fremont Street buck-uss 
cd if I could stop getting old.” 
d like to take you up on that, Jack." 
"Only thing worse than dying is get- 
ng old. 
Th. 
Buster М 
The casino manager was pleased at the 
progress of Buster N ation. 
He sat in his Naugahyde desk chair, a 
heavyset man with a walleye, and owirled 
the dial of a closed-circuit television set 
on the desk in front of him. 
zeroed in on a different pi 
watching a blackjack 
“Look at that losing son of a bitch,” he 


on-oa-biteh though 


paid 18. 
"The manager turned olf the set. "With 

stiffs like him, this could be a good 

business,” he said, He was wea 

whiteonawhite shirt with his 

monogrammed on the cuffs. It was hard to 

tell which was his good eye, whether he 

was looking at Buster or me. 

o you found Lester 

Buster Mano grunted. 

me to do?” 

set the money back.” 

"How bad you want 

"We'll serle. Even like his business 

K- Cash business.” 

“And il he won't settle?" 

“That son of a bitch likes to gamble 


"What do you 


“For Ma. Bakst, Christmas is still a pagan festival.” 


319 


PLAYBOY 


320 


too much. TH put his picture in every 
casino in town." 
You got his picture‘ 
You got a Polaroid?” 
“Gotcha.” 


st of the Strip. Pastel 
20 rools, two-car g 
rages. There was a developers sign in 
front of the model house—orrx FOR Iv. 
SPECHON—LOW DOWN—VIIA /FHA—FROM. 


o walked through the liv- 
ing room with his Polaroid camera in 
hand 
You don't mind if I take pictures?” 
he asked the real-estate agent. “For the 
litle woman. She works days at the 
Sands. 

“Really?” the real-estate woman said. 
She was a hefty blonde, nearing 60, in a 
miniskirt, and her voice was guarded, 
as if LOW DOWN—VHA/FHA—FROM $22,095 
was too steep for the husband of what she 
seemed to assume was а cocktail waitress 
at the Sands. 

Buster Mano caught the hesitation. 
“In the publicity department,” he 


“May I sugg 


“OL course, go right ahead," the real- 
estate woman said. 

Buster Mano began snapping pictures 
with his Polaroid. 

“You'll notice the light dimmer,” the 
te agent s; 

1 like the pusl 
erM E 
And it's all name-brand furniture. Of 
course, it doesn't come with every house, 
but the manufacturer is willing to give a 
discount. And no separate financing. It 
would all come with the initial loan." 
With approval of credit, I presume," 
Buster Mano smiled, 

“Oh, of course. And isn't the bres 
g? An all-electric Кисе 
e butane now," Buster Mano 
he wife hares it." 

Well. then, this is the place for you." 

Buster Mano tore off а snapshot, nod- 
ded with satisfaction and put the photo- 
graph in his pocket. 
ts the patio I'm really interested in,” 
he said. "We spend all our time on the 
patio. Ruth and the dog and myself. We 
don’t have any children. Mustard, our 
dog, he's family enough for us. 


button controls," Bust- 


est the canard bigarade au Grand Marnier? 
Vd like to see what the hell it 


We went out the sliding y 
the patio. Lester Pugh w: 
тапап grouping around the barbecue. 
On a танап cocktail table, there w 
tray full of empty plastic liquor bottles, 
a Scotch-plaid ice bucket and some tinted 
plastic patio glasses. 

"Td just love a picture of that,” Buster 
Mano said. He motioned Lester Pugh to 
one of the rattan chairs. “Could you s 
in a chair? I want my Ruth to get the full 
flavor of it.” 

Lester Pugh moved reluctantly into 
the chair. He was a small, ferrct-faced 
man in a dark suit and a string tie. On 
his right pinkie finger was a diamond 
ring with the stones worked into the ini- 
tials L. P. 

Buster Mano raised the camera to his 
“Ws a wonderful effect with the bot- 
aid. “A real selling point. Just 


a 


The real-estate woman came out onto 


the patio. “T didn't give vou my card. I'm 
Mrs. Becker. And this is Mr. Pugh from 
Mojave Lawn and Patio. I can't wait for 
your wife. 

"Ruth. 

"Of course, Ruth. I can't wait for 


Ruth to see the patio." 

“Do you have any other kind of patio. 
tes?" Buster Mano said. He tore off 
to Lester 


= 
the snapshot and showed 


Pugh. "You should smile more," Buster 
Mano said. 
"Contemporary or classic?" Lester 


Pugh said. 
"Polished terrazzo," Buster Mano said. 
“Wed have to order it.” Lester Pugh 


d. "Siv-week delivery 
"m afraid you'd skip town if we gave 
you six weeks, Lester," Buster Mano 


id. 
Lester Pugh sat t 


isfixed in the rat- 


tan chair. His bones seemed to have col- 
lapsed. He tried to wipe his forehead, 
but he could barely lift his arm. 

“Um sure Mr. Pugh could have it here 
Mrs. Becker 


quicker than six wecks,” 


ks, I could write you an 
ester Pugh said weakly. 

„ Lester,” Buster Mano said. 
He looked at the snapshot once again. 
“You take such a good picture 
m sure I don't understand.” 
Becker said. 


Mrs. 


“Tell her, Lester," Buster Mano said. 
Lester Pugh tried to rise from the 


LaVerne,” he said fi- 


lly 


g to get The Sonnd 


chair “That stupid 
nally, "You know, that dumb bitch г 
thought she was g 
of Music. 

Buster M. 
Lester Pugh from the chair. 

“Oh, hell, TU buy her the album, 
Lester," Buster Mano said. 


o extended a hand to help 


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PLAYBOY 


322 


mickey MOUSE ара 


effect. The thyroid duck shakes its head. 

But the crowds are unsuspicious. They 
mean to have fun: soldiers with a three- 
day R and R in Hong Kong. I envy their 
посепсе. One Disney flier notes that 
W. D. W. has a bigger annual draw than 
Mecca. Mecca's a lousy attraction, any- 
way: no rides, no ducks. Lines here, 
though. My God, you don't get such lines. 
except maybe at Lenin's tomb. And this 
erage day in the Magic Kingdom. 
Lines are bent into metal mazes; а 50- 
minute wait is camouflaged by right 
ngles. "We're nuts,” says one lady, wcar- 
ng cameras crossstrapped like Pancho 
Villa's bandoleers. “In line for an hour 
to see something that takes maybe seven 
minutes. But it's great. I love it. 

The crowds aren't crowds: They're 
audiences. And the lines aren't lines: 
queues. You'll have to learn the language. 
The Disney organization employs a full- 
time staff of semanticists. The nomen- 
damre department. Queues are roofed 
over. There's a rainy season in central 
Florida: It lasts all summer long. Terrific 
storms detonate over the Magic King- 
dom. But the audience holds its ground. 
For most folks, the trip to W. D. W., repre- 
sents a 12-month commitment of savings 
nd anticipa At those prices, you 
danm well better enjoy yourself. And 
people do. I don't question it 

W. D. W. is as clean п intensive-care 
unit. The streets are washed more fre- 
quently than day-old kittens. If they were 
made of human skin, they'd be wrinkled. 
Drop a cigarette pack and men in white 
with whisk brooms converge, swans after 
a bread crust. Underneath Main Street, 
there's another Main Street. The M 
Kingdom 
unm of mai 
ties: unseen, magic. The Swedish AVAC 
ge system guns trash through big 
tubes to a compacting station. Smoke is 
scrubbed smokeless, In the near future, 
sewage will be bowdlerized 10 drinking 
water. The waste heat from Disney's pri- 
vate electric generators is used to air-con- 
dition buildings. It works: It interlocks 
ike Disney marketing. Every book, sweat 
shirt, record, film sells another book or 
sweat shirt or record or film. 

Main Street, Fronticrland, Adventure- 
land, Tomorrowland: ll Nineteen 
Fiftiesland. The Disney kids arc swell. 
Sideburns calipered to the odd half hair, 
my college service society at a crippled or- 
plans’ picnic. Polite, jolly, helpful; extro- 
vert as hell. I ask around. They're happy 
ing at W. D. W. They say “Walt” the 
way angelist minister says "Amen 
frequently and with reverence. It's a won- 
derful name; fits to words like gosh and 
“Gosh, Walt" Adolph Disney 
© gone into another line of 
tting good-naturedness 
vement. I'm very favor- 


is no meager ac 


ably impressed. The Disney organization 
is our greatest trainer of people, оп 
greatest. manager of crowds—audiences. 
1 notice there are no steps to speak of in 
the Magic Kingdom. It's emblematic. 
Mostly gentle ramps. Saves a mortality in 
ankles and moves the audience with a 
swift, casy grace. 

No casy grace for me. I'm an outsider 
in the Magic Kingdom. It's like reaching 
puberty at the age of six: makes you dif 
ferent. PLAYBOY is on the Disney Index. 
The corporate images, let us say, do not 
mesh. You cim buy 100-proof Smirnoll's 
at the Disney hotel stores, but no center- 
folds. And rraynoy has committed a par 
ticular, recent indiscretion. The April 
issue, which hit the stands a day or two 
before I hit Florida, featured the pictorial 
Disney's Latest Hit—Dayle Haddon, a 
ney studio starlet, naked as а newborn 
mouse. And better looking. We got calls 
ay and from Jim Stewart, a 
West Coast Disney publicrelations hon- 


л, and I are on trial. Getting a moral 
shortarm inspection. Dayle Haddon, 1 
figure, is finished in the 
Film business. If she buys a Micke 
Mouse watch, her wrist will turn black. 


They'll speak to us. Just that: speak. A 
grudging, guarded, scared courtesy. For 
candid opinions, set Martha Mitchell. 


The Disney outlook is as flat and simple 
as Mickey's cartoon face: We have made 
the best of all possible corporate worlds. 
gative words are sex-changed by the 
nomenclature department. This will be 
idle written by nameless people: 
Disney employees who were willing to 
talk frankly—off the record, for God's 
sake, I've got a wife and three kids. The 
Disney loyalty has become a joke. It's 
more an unhappy joint silence. Enforced. 
All is not Tinker Bell in Fantasyland. 
But I grant them magic. They're entr 
neurs of disorientation. They blinker 
you, crowbar you away from the present, 
away from the Florida latitude and longi- 
tude. Only the audience jus. 1 wonder 
they don't hand out costumes at the gate. 
It’s all stage sets, your vision is the cam 
the motion-picture-artdirector’s ap- 
proach, In five acres, say, they fabricate a 
suspending lianas, chimpanzees 
and disbelief, W. D. W. is themed with 
acy; they'd edit a 747 out of the 
skies over Frontierland if they could m: 
age it. Here's an example: From my hotel 
window, I sce two huge blank dice lying 
comer up in the Seven Seas Lagoon. A 
Cinker. I sense it. They happen to be 
ramps for the daily waterski show. But a 
Polynesian lagoon doesn’t have waterski 
ramps. When an old-fashioned paddle- 
wheel steamer passes, they subvert the 


pr 


illusion. Later Im told that a sunken 
ship will be fashioned around the ramps. 
I knew it. The ramps were uncostumed. 
Fm starting to think Disney. The а 
ence is grateful, They want to be some 
where else. And there have been better 
times than America circa 1973. 

No rides at W.D.W.: The temm is 
attractions, Ride is a camy word; it 
suggests pitchmen and geeks and the top 
of an old icecream cup stuck to your 
sole. Walt loathed dirty, sucker-a-minute 
amusement parks. Still, by other 


any 
name, there are rides in the Magic King- 
dom. With this difference: They impose 
a persona on you—Peter Pam or Mr. 


Toad or Captain Nemo. They cast you 
momentarily in a role. The Haunted 
Ma docsn't supply a new identity, 
but it is incredibly sophisticated, decades 
of light-years beyond the Coney Island 
spook ride, where a few dangling strings 
and a lot of darkness arc the best effects. 
‘The Haunted Mansion illusions bewilder 
me. Foot high ghosts, real as Johnny Car 
son on my 24-inch black and white, but 
standing free. Three.dimensional. Alive. 
The literature mentions lasers. I don’t 
want to know the logistics of it. T want to 
be astonished. I a а half-dozen times. 
Success is contagious. It may be incon- 
venient to stand in line, yet the 
convenience is also compelling and 
exclusive. The longest line marks the 
most popular play, movie, attraction. 
More bon ton, more fun to watch the 
New York Gi play with 62,000 Гапу— 
though you can't park and sitting in traffic 
boils your radiator over. Some weeks back 
I stood with a group of 50 people staring 
across 42nd Street in New York. I stood 
for three minutes; 1 saw nothing. Behind 
me, the crowd increased. I left, frus- 
trated. Down the block а cop told ane, 
“Oh, we picked up a shoplifter twenty 
Yet the rubbernecking 
ghost of the event. long alter. 
nts to miss out 
At W. D. W. you also hear people say, 
od, how much they must have spent 
on all this." Great cash outlays impress. 
The Pyramids have a similar effect: You 
think in terms of size, of unreimbursed 
man-hours, not of art. This—and clean- 
lines and politeness—accounts in great 
measure, I think, for the Disney triumph 
nd the collapse of Palisades Park, 
converted to unamusing high-rises. 


persisted, a 
No onc wa 


ow. 


Frankly, W.D.W. disappointed. me. 
xcept for the Haunted Mansion, the 
Country Bear Jamboree—perhaps one 


other “big” attraction—the Disney rides 
are rides, they belong to a century-old 
amusement-park. wadition. The carrouscl 
is there. W.D.W's Mad Tea Party dis 
guises the Concy Island whip, Dumbo, 
the Flying Elephant, appears, in one in- 
carnation or another, at every county fair. 
The Small World water ride is your tun- 
nel of love, made endless and saccharin 
boring, without even the promise of a 
kiss, There are twice as many attractions 


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PLAYBOY 


324 


per acre at W. D.W. They are larger, 
more carefully machined, more expensive. 
"They use the Disney characters. But they 
cannot, in any sense, be called original. 
Yet, when asked, I amaze- 
ment W. D. W. place for cynicism 
nor even an ordinarily critical eye. It 
would be cruel and cheap. People are 
enjoying themselves. You don't tell Pol- 
ish jokes at the Pulaski Day parade. The 
emperor may ha 
dressed —but I wasn't going to blow the 
whistle. I'm not thar kind of guy. And T 
don't think this assessment is unfair. I 
remember the same disappointment, 
the age of 15, visiting Disneyland. 

W. D.W- merchandises education 
vicarious travel. Few people really want 
to see Africa—tsetse flies, you know, and 
cholera shots and, God, Alricans—but 
the Jungle Cruise provides a bugless, na- 
r And the presump- 
tion is: Your children will learn. The 
Flight to the Moon, the Hall of Presi- 


ive been naked—or semi- 


and 


less simulacrum 


"I dunno. Can we arrest him if it’: 
and his own wife: 


dents are instructive, though 20-minute, 
contractions of U.S. 
space science are antieducational, like 
onerecord courses in French. Yet we 


never pretended to teach; W. D. W. gives 
the sensation of healthful mind improve- 


ment. The reaction is awe that it can bc 
done at all—create moon shots in a build- 
ing—let alone with such technical skill 
and illusion. The deft doing, rather than 
what is done, impresses. 

Transportation is entertainment. 
Wales lone frivolity back-yard 
steam railway. W. D. W. provides canoes, 
a sky ride, keelboats, horsecars, you name 
And the monorail, which has been de- 
scribed as a “futuristic device whose time 
has passed." Disney releases call it a 
“high-speed” 45 miles per 
hour, High speed for my 1962 Oldsmo- 
bile. But it looks fu 


was 


monorail: 


s his own home 


and it disposes crowds efficiently. Mo- 
ion is crucial to the W. D. W. strategy. It 
controls illusions. Easier to move people 
through things than to move things past 
people. In fact, the Disney attractions are 

n exact analogue of film. Movement 
life or the impression of life: mo- 
tion pictures. Each car, each boat in an 
traction is one frame of a film passing 
through action. But the process is 
versed. The camera moves. The set is а 
stationary series of images. 

And so audio-animatronics: another 
claboration of film technique, Richard 
Schickel is scared by audio-animatronics. 
In The Disney Version, he writes, “Here 
is the dehumanization of art . . . at this 
point the Magic Kingdom becomes a 
dark land, the innocent dream becomes 
a nightmare.” Nonsense. I'm not scared. 
When Walt started in animation, he used 
the most primitive method: dolls that 
could be articulated joint by joint, then 
frame by frame. 
no more than a 
three- 


logical 
dimensional cartooning. Sure, to the 


ad of vulgarity 
in hooking an outboard motor to 
m Lincoln. But it’s essentially 
nocuous. "Го be fair, of course. an audio- 
animatronic Walt should appear in the 
Walt Disney Story attraction on Main 
Street. However, my saint is my saint and 
an electric Barbie doll. 

idio-animatronics for quite 
dead-end 


T distrust 
иной 


shrug of n shoulder, one human. 
kneecap flexing lazily embarrasses a fig- 
ure computerized for 10,000 tics and ges- 
tures. Abe Lincoln's mouth will always 
look like Sophia Loren’s, dubbed 

nglish by someone from the Andy С 
school of elocution. Is an irony 
that several commentators have noted: 
Disney, the fantasist, was hung up on 
toons. with the multi- 
plane camera, with National Geographic 
reproductions of animal life, were 
bogged in a stupid literalism—and short- 
changed the superreal possibilities of the 
medium. For my taste, audio-animatronic 
Presidents rank with hardware salesmen's 
conventions for tedium: It's a gimmick 
worth five minutes’ attention at most. 
The Mickey Mouse Revue gets one and 
1 half yawns on the excitement meter. 
No figure can ambulare and who knows 
how a duck forms its glottal stops or pops 
its Ps, anyway? Just so many complicated 
metronomes for a mélange of Disney 
theme songs. 

‘There is an exception of sorts: the 
Counuy Bear Jamboree. If God ever 
made an audio-animatronic figure, it was 
the bear. Bear faces are semihuman (in- 
deed, the show is a cruel yet humorous 
parody of Appalachian types). You accept 
their grimaces: not human enough to 
seem inaccur 
irrelevant. I 


PLAYBOY 


e betwee 
audio-animarron! 


Yet 
ily 


sney or 


cost-oFliving raise and their h 
styles are precisely the correct length. 
From time to time rumors, savagely 
denied, hint that Walt isn't dead at all. 
He's been frozen, they say, waiting for the 
kiss of a cryogenic Prince Charmi 
Probably untrue, but the story has a 
Walt adored technology 
micks, It was his faith. In 1901, the year 
of Walts birth, machines still surprised, 
still scemed positive n. His 
her was a fermer-handy man who 
moved with small success from one Mid- 
western Main Street to another. You 
Walt took with him to Hollywood a fine 
distrust of banks and debt: independent, 
ornery from the first. The Disney genius 
was a compound: tough: 
tion of technology, m 
326 (partly brother Roy's contribu 


a sweet ear for the nation's simple у 
ings. Walt was never ап avuncular, 
mouse-loving pushover. He came on hard 
new boils. For instance, through a fam- 
ily firm called Retlaw, Walt licensed his 
name back to Walt Disney Production: 
Like superstitious natives who secrete 
js and odd locks of hair to pro- 
tect identity from evil magic, Walt stayed 
aloof, private. The face, the name, the 
easy drawl were marketable ven 
his own corporation had ro pay for them. 

Walt didn't invent things. He was an 
entrepreneur of entertainment, a use 
He never could draw a respectable 
Mickey Mouse; he couldn't even manage 
that spidery signature with the fut dot 
on the 1; His autographs were suspected 
y Steamboat Willie was a 
h for Disney: the first sound 
He guessed the possibilities— 
and sound—but he didn't 
create a technique. There is a much-quot 
ed story. Young child asks, “But what do 
you do, Mr. Disney?" As Schickel h 
Walt. ponders, "Well, sometimes I think 


of forg 
breakthre 
cartoon 


animation 


of myself as a little bee. I go from one 
area of the studio to another and gathe 
pollen and sort of stimulate everybody 
Accurate cnough—down to the stinger. 

Walt attracted. creative people—nota- 
bly, the man with the gargled name: Ub 
Iwerks, Iwerks first drew Mickey. He dc- 
veloped the multiplane camera, which 
permits three-dimensional effects in ani 
mation. Walt the bee added great energy, 
coordination and his excellent sense of 
what middle America wanted: animals 
good craftsmanship: pratfall jokes; dean, 
cute, uncontroversial story lines. He took 
a chance on Snow White, the 
length cartoon. A d 
it worked. But, €: 


first feature- 
ngerous fin: 


ncial 
ly most signifi 

mag- 
ination, open-mindedness and perfection 
t Disney Studios—not to mention loy- 
alty, family spirit and a willingness to 
work for almost i In 1941, when 


the spirit curdled and family animators 
went on strike, Walt felt sharp betrayal, 
Camelot showed h cracks. How 


could they? He wa swell guy. 
Walt approached “art” with ice ton 
and rubber gloves. Not his 


ly became a cult 
was quite uninten 
Walt as sayi 


onal. Schickel quotes 
1961. “Oh, Fantasía! 
and I don't regret it. 
But if we had to do it over again, ] 
don't think we'd do it.” There are fine 


moments in Fantasia—the Sorcerer’ 
Apprentice and A Night on Bald 
Mountain sequences—but most of the 


film, particularly the Ave Maria 
Pastoral Symphony. is cloying, ти 
pulsive. The concept imtrigues: a sy 
acthetic melding of vision and sound. 
Schickel: “Disney enjoved working on 
the sequence [Bach's Toccata], perhaps, 
because its basic concept was his: 71 said, 
ILI can see is violin tips and bow tips— 
like when you're half asleep at a con- 
сем." He thought they were abstrac- 
tions, but they were not, of course. They 
were merely a form of iteralism different 
from any he had attempted before 
Alter seeing the Pastoral Symphony м 
ment, Walt—who remembered being half 
sleep at concerts—suid, "Gee, thiyil 
make Beethoven.” At first, Fantasia was 
a four-star box-office Пор. Walt 
gave the film th 


а the 
re 


ever for- 
He judged his chil- 


dren as a Calvinist minister would have: 
the elect were the prosperous. 
And cost i 


coun fected the film 
Soon Walt Disney Produc- 
g out of the animation 
business. Too expensive. Walt had caught 
ght pap films were more profit- 
The Love Bug, Son of Flubber, Lt. 
Robin Crusoe, U.S. N., dozens like them. 
These films are empty and workmanlike 
and they never require parental guid- 
тсе. The ratio of animated 1o live films 
has been roughly one to ten. Even in the 
middle Fifties, Walt was making cartoons 


*When you're Spinnaker Riding in the Grenadines, 
an ill wind can bode you no good? 


“It's sort of like aerial 
surfing. Your ‘surfboard’ 
si sail—attached tO „= 
the mast by a long зити oe C 
line—so it can float rim. mcm i 
free of the mast. But the 

f air currents you ride in the Tobago Cays 

| are wilder than the waves at Makaha 

Beach. Almost as soon as Cheryl got 

onto her perch—a gust sent her soaring. 


> 


ANCU 


16.8 PROOF, BLENDED CANADIAN WHISKY. © 1913, 


“Cheryl had all the luck that day. 

Everything started out all right when 
I took flight. Then, just when | 
reached peak altitude of 50 feet... the 
spinnaker collapsed and | was wiped 
out. Kerplunk! Some devil of 

a wind had decided that 

my next destination was 

the deep blue sea. 


“Later, we toasted our adventure with Canadian Club 
at the Secret Harbour Hotel in Grenada.” Wherever you 
go, C.C. welcomes you. More people appreciate its 
incomparable taste. A taste that never stops pleasing. 
It's the whisky that's perfect company all evening long. 
Canadian Club “Тһе Best In The House" іп 87 lands. 


Imported in bottle from Canada. 


7 
ОЖ? 


Lunes 


PLAYBOY 


328 paradoxically, a 


with great reluctance, only because they 
refurbished the corporate image: per- 
haps one every three years. 

But Walt's sweet ear was pressed to the 
ground. Novel ideas, innovations never 
ved him. Against the smartmoney ad- 
vice, he backed a young couple who 
were nature photographers. According to 
Schickel, when Seal Island won an Acad- 
emy Award, “He trotted around to his 
brother's office, opened the door and 
flung the Oscar at the wall above his 
head." Television gave Hollywood a case 
of nervous colitis. Not Walt. He used it. 
The Mickey Mouse Club and the hour- 
long Sunday show became wonderful free 
advertisements for the Disney product. 
And then—with great insight and guts— 
Walt sensed that a clean, polite, educa 
tional, fun amusement park, a place that 
would please adults as well as childra 
that would showcase Disney characters for 
generation after generation, would be tit 
illation for America’s pleasure zone. No 
one agreed with him. The corporation 
was without amusement-park experience. 
Walt had to hock his own life insurance 
for capital. But he was right. Again. And 
Walt Disney Productions was bullied 
into an cra of big business and spectac- 
ular success. 
imes have changed. Walt is dead. Roy 
is dead. There are new ears and they 
have shown a distu tone deafness. 
Oddly, as Walt aged and as the day-to-day 
cashflow pressures diminished. his en- 
treprencurial imagination opened out. 
He got better as he went along. For a leg- 
cy, he left dreams of an extraordi 
ude, But, as we shall see, Wall's 
dreaming has confounded the corporate 
dwarfs who inherited his sorcerer's robes. 
The guts, the confidence are gone. Walt 
must be turning over in his graye. Or, if 
the rumors are true, in his freeze i 

The operative word is show 
showbiz. Remember it. One Disney em- 
ployce told me, “I can hand them a fifty- 
page report and they don't understand it 
unless they see a show. Everything has to 
be translated. They're like kids—but 
they aren't fools. Jt better be a damn 
good show." Even the annual stockhold- 
ers' meeting ends with a Disney flick. 
Ridgway lets us see the tunnels, the 
computers, the wardrobe rooms. He's 
game enough, but uncomfortable: a five 
foot politician caught without his ele 
tor shoes. I'm awed by the hardware. 
Th America. W. D. W''s digestive tract 
ihrums in busy per round me. 
The mirror streets beneath are veined 
for garbage and water and clectriaty and. 
compressed air. Ridgway deprecates. It's 
backstage; it’s negative. True, The ur 
derground streets are ghosttown. empty. 
The computer room is like other comput- 
er rooms. Now and then, a technician 
will bicycle past, going to fix some re 
fractory audio-animatronic figures, chain 
drive echoing against concrete walls. Or, 
sweating employee, 


(2) 


mouse head under his arm, will pass 
beneath the logical, ncat plumbing. Anti- 
septic. They axed a U.S. Steel commer- 
1 on W. D.W. because it pictured the 
intenance areas. “We like to empha- 
size what's up front.” The man inside the 
mouse suit doesn't exist. 

And you aren't hired at W. D. W. 
you're cast. The job interview is an audi. 
tion. There are several dozen cameo 
parts, but the big role is cheery, kempt, 
1 kid. All ingénues; all romantic 
s. Archie and Veronica. Our Town 
done by De Mille, with a cast of 10,000 or 
12,000. Like the Lord Jehovah, they 
k the sparrow's fall and verily, broth- 
er, every hair on your face is numbered. 
No beards, no mus t, they 
tal you, wouldn't have hired himself. 
W.D.W. is 27,000 acres of depilatory. 
And when they aren't shaving hairs, they 
split them. Note these picky standards 
for women. “The only hair accessory will 
be a plain barrette either silver, gold or 
tortoise shell. If a hair ribbon is worn it 
should compliment [sic] the costume 


and be no wider than one half inch or 


longer than four inches when tied. Hair 
ribbons are lor the express purpose of 
holding the hair away from the face, not 
as a decorative addition to the costume.” 
Cynthia, you can pick up your pay check. 
That's a decorative hair ribbon. “Finger 
nail tips must not exceed one fourth of 
an inch, Perfume or sented [sic] powders 
should not be used excessively.” Barba 
punch out on the clock. Your deodorant 
just registered as an odorant. The cast 
can't be radically fat or short or tall, 
either. Costumes come in a middle- 
American range of sizes. Prince Disney 
eliminating the nation's ugly stepsisters 
by their foot width. 

They arent joking. A lady called 
Greta Groom, the last. puritan, spies on. 
employees. Pokes under fingernail: 
ows the сус shadowers, One warning, 
maybe two: The Magic Kingdom says 
тил and youre gone. But, in general, 
the stall doesn't resist. They 
ribbons amenably. The screening 
process has rooted out troublemakers. 
1 ask W.D.W.s personnel director, 
Pat Vaughn, what happens when the 
АСАМ. comes down; when it rules 
you can't refuse employment to Tiny 
Tim. Hes hurt, surprised. How could 
that be? We cast, we don't employ. Right. 
on, but the grooming standards apply 
even to a hotel bartender. Correction: 
W.D.W. doesn't have bartenders. Bar- 
tender isn't a family word. The nomen- 
lature department has renamed them: 
Beverage Hosts. Beverage Host is a role, 
like Spear Carrier. Yes. All the V 
Disney World's a stage. Still, I suspect 
the A.C.L.U, will arrive ida some- 
And ill be fun to watch. 

That's not all: They'll even try rebap- 
tizing you. We get a guided tour, Our Dis- 
ney hostess is lovely; right out of some 
archetypal Orange Bow! halftime show. 


Born with a silver baton between her 
teeth. From Florida: Disney employs 
a whole carillon of Southern belles. It 
strikes me that the guided-tour accent is 
the Southern accent. The same lazy, long 
vowels for stress, gratuitous diphthong- 
ing. “On yo leeft, Fahantasyland.” Our 
guide's name is Honey: the nomenclature 
people didn't like her name. I mean, what 
it some good family man said, “Hi, 
Honey"? Masher, “They're very strict. 1 
had a hard time. I had to bring my birth 
certificate.” But Honey approves of 
W.D.W. and its standards. I ask her 
about the ACLU. She's hurt, sur- 
prised. “They wouldn't do that, would 
they? Gosh. It'd spoil evahthing- 

No question: This is the very best 
aspect of W.D.W., of Disneyland. Each 
id gem a one. indoctrination 
the Disney "philosophy" at the Disney 
“university.” Philosophy is a bit much: 
Its nothing more than people-handling 
techniques. We visit a classroom wall- 
papered with flash cards: WORKING 
TOGETHER: EVERY GUEST 15 A VIP; THE 
MAGIC MIRROR OF YOUR SMILE; ACCEPT 
PEOPLE AS THEY ARE. The university's 
dean, Bill Hoelscher, is pleasant, avuncu- 
lar, so softspoken he could do Prepara- 
tion H commercials. The kids get Disney 
dust sprinkled on them, holy water from 
an aspergillum. They sit in director's 
chairs: Walter Pidgeon, Phil Silvers, Vera 
Miles. They're shown a film about Г 
ney Studios. Hollywood. Glamor Audi- 
єпсє. They're meant to think—like the 
man who pushed a broom behind the 
circus elephants—that, bang, they're in 
showbiz. I read one card aloud. “Accept 
people as they are" T add: "But you 
don't accept people as they are.” The 

les 

гау doesn’t 
don't. We use this ki 
cause we find it works for u: 
as usual The Disney philosophy is a 
eting device, soap-lake boxes, S&H. 

Stamps. But cynicism hasn't 
filtered down. The kids are enthusiastic 
d damned nice. They make W. D. W. 
In a few months during 1971, the um 
versity trained 10.000 people. They use 
young kids: A frontline company on the 
Somme had about the same attrition rate. 
J's an extraordinary accomplishment. 
The methods are sophisticated. In cach 
employment area there's a lead, respo 
sible for efficiency and morale. The lead 
gets 20 cents an hour extra but has no 
authority to fire or assign work. He oper- 
ates on charisma and push, nothing much 
clse. This is the kindergarten for middle 
псу organization is 
families once 
were. A high percentage of top manage- 
ment has worked for no other firm. And 
gement's roster lists very few 
Jews, very few Catholics. No blacks. No 
. "There's the obligatory black in 
charge of minority affairs: Thats it, Dis- 
ney hiring practices are impeccable, of 


smile. "No, we 
d of employee be- 
Busines— 


course; they're too street wise to be caught 
on that one. A Disuey employee told me, 
“They're not prejudiced. They have Walt 
Disney's Midwest approach. 1 remember 
hitchhiking through Iowa with a Jewish 
friend when I was a kid. We stopped at a 
n passing I men- 
d was Jewish. The 
stepped back and. 
nd if I look at 
person before’ 


small-town store. Ju 
tioned that my fri 
store owner, an old gu 
said, "Excuse me, 
you? Never saw a Jewisl 
That's the way it is at Disney. Not preju- 
dicc. Ignorance. Blindness. Lets say 
they're not too aware of things. Thei 
sense of history doesn't 
yond Pearl Harbor in either direction.” 

Show is the word, But there’s another 
word. Control. Understand these two 
words and you pretty much unde 
Disney. In the 
box office after box office, V 
to sell his film library for quick cash. The 
other studios panicked. capitulated to 
IV. Now Disney Productions can re- 
release films every four or five years with 
handsome profit and negligible over- 
head: Snow White looks good as Garbo 
the fifth time around. Control When 
Walt decided, against the world’s advice. 
to build Disneyland, he ignored the ex 
pert but impure carny men, He ordered 
cartoon animators to shift from two di- 


mensions to three and to design а 
revolutionary amusement park. You 
can't trust outsiders. Control. Не got 


because of another 
m: Spend, spend bi; 
for quality; make mistakes, bur get it 
right. Walt could afford this wise extra 
gance, because a Disneyland attraction or 
film costing scveral million. dollars can 
pay back with relative swiftness. But 
ground rules are changing and the Dis- 
ney organization has lost its great 
reflexes. The legs are gone. There is con- 


fusion. The formula for success, take 
externally, may well be a praci 
Tor trouble. Financial pressures have 


compelled Disney to move beyond show 


The experience so far has been unpleas- 

nt. They're not comfortable. And no 
new methods have been developed. 

The C 


ntemporary Resort is impolite: 


The monorail passes 
through it. In fact, the Contempora 
seems to exist just so the monorail can 
pass through it. Inside, baby, it’s the Big 
House: tier after tier of prison cells 
reaching up. Emptiness architectured 
The place is massive and unattractive 
and superbly inefficient. U.S. Steel 
owned the hotels and constructed the 
rooms for Disney on site in а Disn 
built factory. Each modular room was 
trucked to the steel-and-concrete croquet 


rific cost overrun: Sp 
Contempo 
Polynes 
рапсу; even so. it'll be two weeks after 
Armageddon before the Co 
cracks its fi 
appalled, annoyed. Roy Disncy wanted 
to placate U.S. Steel if it was the last 
thing he did. It w 
chase of the hotels and 
hours later. The Dist 
ion control, And it was in a new business. 
And it wasn't show. 

For a while, very reluctantly. they 
hired an outside hotel spec 
work. He wasn't to the 
A Disney man told me. 
man: 


ht Vice presidents right at gro 
Bob Allen, a veteran Disney m 
hotel expe 
Contempo 
disaste 


spokesm; 
has done an outstanding job in hotels. 
be 


id for quality. The 
y (and its sister hotel, the 
n) Operates at 98-percent. occu- 


ncial nut. U.S. Steel was 


He arranged pur 
ied some few 
nization had 


nner trained. 
They want top 
gement to be right in the store. on 


largest uncovered yawn. An A — the scene, not sitting behind a desk some- 
it looks like your old pop-up where. That's the Disney success sto 


nd level. 
n with no 
nce, was brought in. But the 
ary remained a $40-per-day 
rea. At one New York Socicty 
y Analysts meeting, a Disney 
n had the nerve to say, “Bob 


use it isn't that complicated. It’s а 


ater of giving people service, of get 


the 


in orderly, getting them out 
and so on.” Bull. Hotel manage 


wicket, then was slid into place, a bureau ment is a deep art. 
drawer. Estimates vary: anywhere from Audiences will queue up to see the 


$60,000 to $100,000 per module. A ter 


Haunted M. 


ision. They're somewhat less 


Here they are. 


challenge—provi 


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330 


willing to stand in line for breakfast. 
That's not much of an attraction, after 
all. Fred Ferreui York Times ve- 
porter, cooled his family's heels for 90 
minutes while a room was being made 
up. Everything is computerized, even the 
icompetence: Mickey Mouse as Sorcer- 
ers Apprentice. And in the Contem- 
porary Hotel, Disney has made an 
uncharacteristic mistake. It can't be cast 
or costumed, Shows at W. D. W. are either 
past or future or geographically dislocat- 
ed. But contemporary? How do you play 
that charadc? Hell, I'm contemporary. 
Who isn't? Disney doesn't act out the 
present very well. Its Polynesian Hotel, 
smaller and themed, apparently plays 
better. The staff, in ersatz Oriental dress, 
like Warner Oland doing Charlie Chan, 
has some morale. The Contemporary 
staff acts trapped: stowaways on the Ti- 
anic. And the place is as homey as an 
rplane hangar: You expect your voice 
to come echoing back from the far prison 
tiers, worn out even at the speed of 
sound. There is one futuristic item: room 
service. It’s about four hours in the fu- 
ture. I rang up at ten rat. and asked for 
scrambled eggs at seven the next mor 
ing. Well... they had an opening for me 
just after 11. If I didn't mind, I did. 

I dwell on the Contemporary because 
it’s symptomatic: suggests a limit to the 
himart-director approach. The Contem- 
porary was designed in part by W. E. D., 
the “imagineering” arm at Disney (which 
es its name from Walter Elias Disney's 
initials). Previous experience: the Jungle 
Cruise and Cinderella's Castle. But the 
imagincer is boss. The engincer has to go 
along, sink or swim. Spend big for quality. 
Bill Hoelscher says, "W. E. D. wanted the 


monorail. It's the way we design things. 
Then we get right down to where's the 
nd up with a very tiny 
tch- 


hen and you w 
chen. We've got to get a bigger 
en.” Hotels aren't all. monorails 
show and 1000 admissions per hour. More- 
over, the university can't train a 19-year 
old kid, say, to be a talented waiter 
overnight. Serving is another deep art— 
deeper than the magic mirror of anyone's 
smile. We chatted with the hotel restau- 
nt staff, Demoralization, off the record. 
Everyone's left. They managed to keep 
the chef, but that's about all.” It’s a very 
competitive job market in central Florida. 

Later we had dinner at a hotel far 
from the Magic Kingdom. Our excellent 
er said, "Why should I wor 
icy? They don't know how to run a res 
ашап. Anyway. I don't want to shave 
off my mustache.” I order veal Osca 
The waiter shakes his head. “No, sir. No. 
The veal Oscar isn't very good." What a 
ure. At Disney restaurants, friend, 
Oscar is always good. Always. No 
negative thoughts. And the hair in your 
p is exactly two inches long. 


From square one, the Disney orga 
tion has been a firstname autocracy. ILS 


typical of the most cagey modern dicta 
tors, the Uncle Joe Stalins. that they 
relinquish tides [or power. Walt Disney, 
Walt to уоп, was a superstar tyrant: but 
he was also a genius of several sorts. For 
alt didn't even have an officia 


nothing—repeat, nothing—came out of 
W.E. D., out of the studios, without his 
. Prime stamp. Production 
ani- 
ach employce made tab A or 
slot B; few knew how to fit them togeth- 
er. Overall concepts were understood by 
perhaps half a dozen men. Then Walt 
died. His brother Roy—a financial fairy 
godfather and a somewhat more be- 
nevolent, low-key ruler—slipped on the 
equipment of absolutism. Then Roy 
died. There was a vacuum, which the 
icy firm abhors. With no history of 
self-government. it gravitated to dictator- 
serfs might to some new fiefdom. 
It needed, probably craved, a tyrant. 
Alter just months, it got one—E. Cardon 
Walker. Card to you, buddy. 

Roy had groomed two 
ship: Dom T 
on Tatum is 
top-notch finan 
honor" "A great y 

s chairman of the hoard. But 
Walker, who started with the E 
m 1938 as a traffic man, make: 
excathedra decisions. He claims to be a 
sacred repository of Walt's ideas and 
dreams. Nuts. At best, Card Walker 
knows what Walt wouldn't have wanted: 
Xrated films, long fing 
gem Mickey Mouse watches. Walt’s vision 
changed ycar to year. Only another Walt 
could, for instance, have dared to make 
the dangerous and brilliant leap from 
films to amusement parks. Walt left a 
ter-or--ycar master plan: This has tem- 
porarily protected the mediocre leader- 
ship from its own mediocrity. But the 
master plan has been just as often an 
embarrassment as a support. You see, 
Walt didn't expl 


n for leader- 


man. 


ma 


hi 
call 

Mafia. 
and tough, they enforce Cards ти 
vision. The most notorious 
Numis, vice-president of oper 
Disneyland and W.D.W. N 
Sandy Quinn and Ro ll came 
out of USC. Nunis, with his third-degree 
crewcut, made it by running Disneyland 
as a noncom runs a platoon: that is, not 
from behind a desk. Nunis w 
spot, brother, when trouble happened. 
The above quoted employee said. "You 
can't talk to Dick, Either he's lecturir 
you or he's figuring out how he сап fire 
you. He terrifies me.” Miller, who has a 
second-degree creweut, is a special per- 
son. He's married to one of Wall's two 


daughters. Miller is executive producer 
for Disney Studios. He has two big ad- 
vantages: nepotism and a strategic posi 
tion. Card pampers Ron. The Walker 
faction—despite a corporate poker face 
of unity—doesn't get along at all well 
with the Disney family and those who 
have been loyal to Walt and Roy. Rela- 
ons with the relations are strained, to 
say the least. Miller is a Disney at one re- 
move. He's also Card's personal stock- 
holder: Through his wife, Ron controls a 
ir number of shares, Roy's son, Roy. 
avoids company politics, wears a 


Jr 
beard, He makes some films and enjoys 


his wealth. Enough for any man. 

Disney employees outside the Walker 
faction have an uninsurable corporate 
life. I get these phone responses: Talk to 
PLAYBOY? Even off the record? “If they 
found out, I'd be up to my you know 
what in hot water.” “Are you kidding? 
I've got three kids.” This state of siege 
doesn't nourish creativity. The films are 
squalid pap, (A) because no one at Dis 
ney will approach social issues with a ten- 
foot magic wand and (B) because they 
refuse to lay out decent sums for decent 
material. I'm not offended by the Walker 
tyranny: Tyranny is more or less stand- 
rd in American businesses. But unimag- 
ive tyranny is inexcusable and, from 
all reports, Walker is a vacillating ty- 
rant, the worst kind. "Card has great 
enthusiasms, He'll get all hot for some- 
thing. Then hell change his mind, Ivs 
d on his yes men. They don't know 
when to say yes—he might w: 
thing different tomorrow." W. 
ue to design interesting 
for the two theme parks. "The technology 
is there. But the Walker 
conducive to risk, to a 
through. A 
embarrass ma 
ganization has abdicated as an innova- 
tive factor in American life. It will do 
aly what it knows how to do: nothing 
much else. And it’s a damned shame. 

Our Florida probation. lasted four days 
and three nights, On Saturday we ask 
Charlie Rid; 
nia? Will Nunis and Walker see 
Ridgway is noncommittal, nervous. 
depends on Sandy Quinn." For this, 

just work here. A Walker man 
to check you out.” We have a 
п dinner with Quinn: 
ion. He's 
at ease. Strawberry blond, affable, hand- 
some, in fine shape: good for 50 push- 
ups. T notice he chews a lot, even when 
there's nothing in his mouth—gives him 
time to think out the answers, Quinn 
asks: Will the article be negative? I'm not 
that stupid, nor entirely hypocritical. 1 
do some chewing myself: Well, we can't 
judi we look at the California op- 
eration. I have my tape recorder on. J get 
n hour plus of my own voice. On the de 
tensive. But it’s not good enough. Our 


major 
jor breakthrough would 
nagement. The Disney or- 


us? 
“Ir 


“It was really for Mrs. Culpepper in 23C, but what the hell.” 


331 


PLAYBOY 


332 help promote the p 


rabbit test comes up negative, or posi 
tive: Depends on how you look at it. Jim 
Stewart calls from the C 
later. Nunis and Walker haven't yet got- 
ten over the shock of seeing Dayle Had- 
don nude. May never get over it: a 
fouralarm trauma, They won't talk to us. 
Then, by chance, Bernice comes across 
a PLAYBOY memo. "Can you please make 
sure I get the [photo] rejects returned to 
me after the feature has been laid out 
and approved. Disney wants them back.” 
Disney wants them back? Call to 
PLAYBOY'S West Coast Photo Department. 
Yes, the Disney people were delighted 
with our pictorial. Yes, one Disney pro- 
motion man lent us transparencies [ron 


Dayle's film. I call Stewart, Jet him in on 
the good news. Heavy breathing ar the 
other end. He would like to know the 


m ime, Goddanm right he would. 
“OK—be glad to tell Mr. Nunis when 1 
see rnia.” I have no com- 
punction publicity angles are 
obviously too—ah—stark for Disney; he's 
in the twilight of a short career. 
Stewart says, “ГИ call you back.” 
back: Nunis and Walker wil 
all. 1 pack for thc other Magic Kingdom. 
a few days later. Nunis and 
Walker have decided not to sce us, after 
all. Guess they found the poor bastard 
without me. 


¢ caught on; "The ruling 
isn't a team of Tinker Bells 
When you're а smart, virile young jock in 
the business of marketing deer and crick- 
ets you compensate but 


good with toughness. Nobody's gonna 
you 


believe in fairies. Disney Produc 
wlieeler-lcalering from the strength 
s powerful image, comes on like 
a covey of Scrooge McDucks. The stin 
gines and arrogance аге legendary. 
Lonnie Bun n ex-Mousel 
lized it for the Chicago Reader. 
the cheapest major studio 1 ever 
worked for in my life. | mean, we 
couldn't even keep the [Mickey Mouse] 
cars after three years, because they cost 
twenty-five dollar." Do business with 
Disney, man, and you're lucky to keep 
your own ears, 

Down in W. D. W. they refer to “Amer- 
ican Industry” as il it were a subsidiary 
of the Disney or; 
two theme parks, th. 
rate enough. The capitalist biters are bit 
To ger your soda or your film on Main 
Sucet, you pay through the corporate 
nose. Irs a great location. Ten million 
plus people pass annually, twice: going 
, coming out. Disney calls these firms 
"participants" A rabbit participates in 
Hasenpfeffer. One participant told my 
associate—oll the record —"Theyre very 
difficult people to deal with. They have 
a fine product and they want то ring a 
dollar ош of every single thing they can 
The world owes them a living because 
they're Disney and they do nothing to 
articipating com- 


was 


nization, And at the 


sumption is accu 


panies." Control. The man who sells you 
a Coke or an Oscar Mayer wiener at 
W. D. W- is a Disney employee. Any р 
ticipant commercial or promotion that 
mentions W. D.W. is scrutinized by Dis 
ney with a jeweler's loupe. Still the pa 
ticipants line up. There is no firm in 
America that could command such re- 
spect from its peers—or serve up such 
frank abuse—and get away with it. 

GAF laid out a hot $1,000,000 to be- 
come the oficial film ar W.D.W. for 
three years. Sandy Оз ted that no 
arücipant has paid royalties to use a 
Disney character. I guess the noma 
clature department covered for him ou 
that one. Probably there's another word 
for royalty: duck rent, perhaps. But be 
sure, it's cheaper to hire a $100-an-hour 
girl as your live-in baby sitter than it 
is to get Gooly on your box top. Business 
Week conadias Quinn: “A participat 
ing company ... pays an annual fee that 
can run from $75,000 to $200,000 for use 
of the names and characters. In addition: 
It pays perhaps $40,000 a year to lease 
space in which to sell its wares or promote 
its corporate identity." And “They are 
told point-blank that the money taken in 
across the counters will not pay for their 
investment at Disney World." The Pope 
sold indulgences with a si come-oi 
supernatural they line 
цр. You don't find such Westin v м ill- 
ingness under “M 
fied section of Screw. 

And. like it or lump it, Disney has 
turned the sovereign state of Florida into 
another subsidiary. When Walt planned 
Disneyland, he underestimated by about 
ten square miles. A roadside ghetto of 
motels and quick-stops sprung up around 
it. Walt was indignant: a gross cancer on 
magic body. It wasn’t clean. 
couldn't control it Also, 
strange cash registers kept I 
night No miscalculation 
W.D.W. is nearly 100 times the size 
of Disneyland, twice the size of Manhat- 
tan Island. Only alligators around the 
second Magic Kingdom: poor competi- 
tion ıperty was assembled w 


. superb discretion. The Disney or 
ization paid an average of $167 per 
acre. Since W. D. W. opened, at least one 
prime acre site outside the complex has 
gone for $500,000, 

Florida sold its birthright for a mess of 


. T have the “Disney Bill” in my 
lap—with ind it runs over 200 
pages—the fattest piece of enabling legis- 

passed in And, 

t enables. It ei todo 


damn all. 1 doubt if there has респ any- 
thing comparable in the nation’s legal 
history. W.D.W. i a government: a 
goodsived principality. With the re- 
straint due embarras the text never 
once mentions Disn the Reedy 
Creck Improvement District, the cities of 
Reedy Creek and Bay Lake, are Disney, 


nothing but Disney. The most monstrou: 
company towns ever conceived. 

The Reedy Creek. Improvement. Dis- 
ийа has every governmental perquisite 
except police power. And the two cit 
can have even that, "Each municipal 
judge shall have the power . . . to h 
brought before him any person cha 
with violation of city ordinances and 10 
conduct all proceedings of a c 
паше” Gor that? The city cou 
appoints judges and the city council. 
though elected at large, is an instrament 
of the district. OL Disney, that is. “The 
legislature hereby finds . +. that it is es 
sential for the welfare of the residents 
and property owners of the city and for 
the harmonious development of the city 
and of the RGLD. . ... that the exercise 
of the powers and duties vested in the 
city - . . be coordinated with the exercise 
by the board of supervisors of the 
R.C.LD. ... and conform to plan, pro- 
grams, resolutions and other actions 
adopted or undertaken by the board of 
supervisors for the district." And the 
board? “All of the members of the board 
shall be owners of the land within the 
And who owns the district, all 
27,000 acres? Right. 
ordinary. Florida has e 
its right of condemnation. 
government in the country 
of its constituency. W. D. W, is an Animal 
Farm democracy. Who's afraid of the big, 
bad wolf? You hcti bc if you live in 
Disney city. When we bring up the 
enabling legislation at W. D.W., Ridg- 
way or Quinn or vice-president General 
William Potter tend to talk building 
codes. You see, Disney construct 
ods are so new, so comple: 
could never have built Ci 
tle under existing Flo Yes. 
City powers shall include “the right to 1 
cense, regulate, restrict and control. the 
manufacture and sale of alcoholic bever- 
ages... lo own, acquire, operate and 
maintain cemeteries and crematories and 
otherwise provide for the burial of the 
dead." Building codes. Cinderella's Cas- 
tle is half womb, hall tomb. And, accord- 
ing to Ridgway, Disney has donc local 
Florida governments a big favor: Alter 
all, W. DW. 1 need fire protection. 
sewage, eic. But the local governments, 
ungrateful, don't consider themselves. 
quite so favored. 

W. D. W. was subtracted from two Flor 
da counties—Orange and Osceola. Paul 
Pickett talked to me: He's one of five 
Orange County commissioners and he 
has been in office since well before Walt 
went South with his Mary Poppins car- 
рей ickeu is a wiry, intense п 
His severe crewcut would probably gi 
Greta Groom palpitations. Picket in 
dicis the Disney organization for arro- 
gance and tactlessness, Take the story of 
585—an I8foorwide country road: It 
winds amiably through orange groves. 
Disney selected 535 as the employee-access 


n ceded 
No elected 
he as sure 


m meth- 
that they 

lerella's Cas- 

codes. Y 


does: 


е 


*Naturally grown menthol. 
«Rich natural tobacco taste. 
• No harsh, hot taste. 


IE Y V ES N King or Super King 


= 1 
Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined E — Р; 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. E A KING: 19 mg."tar", 1.3 mg. nicotine, 
L = KI mg. nicotine, av. per cigarette, FTC Report РЕВ. 73. 


PLAYBOY 


“You look aut for po 


ible rescue planes and 


I'll look out for ships.” 


road. Pickett: "We told them that there is 
no way you can have an entrance for 
10,000 or 19.000 employees on tha 
road. If you do, you're going to have the 
damnedest traffic jam. And one of the Dis- 
cy representatives looked at me and said, 
‘Fella, that’s your problem. When they 
leave our property, they're your problem. 
You go build the road" Tinker Bell. 
Bambi. A spoonful of sugar makes the 
medicine go down. Mind you, the state 


had heady spent $6,250,000 con- 
structing a major highway to serve 
W.D. W. Pickett got tough: The ena- 


bling legislation had been jammed down 
Orange County's throat. He wasn't about 
10 swallow, "We're not going to interrupt 
anned expansion to run down 
h a bunch of money.” Under- 
standable, I think. Huh, fel 

Disney went ahead. They sited the em- 
ployee entrance on 535. And they aow 
barred аг Pickeu's will with some 
hotshot marketing techniques. “They 
got a group of employees to write a song 
called Can You Arrive Alive om 535? 
‘They published this song in a very pro- 
fessional manner. They put thousands of 


bumper strips on automobiles that said 
ARRIVE ALIVE ON 535: They put large bill- 
their property, COXGRATULA- 
VE ARRIVED ALIVE AFTER DRIVING 


535.” Jiminy Cricket. Peter Pan. Snow 
White. Pickett held firm, though the 
county did put clay shoulders on the road. 

But things weren't happening fist 
enough. The Papal State of Fun isn't 
used to procrastination, So Dick Nun 
the enforcer, decided to shoot him some 
trouble. He got on the spot. One Disney 
employee told me, “Back then W. D. W. 
and the local government were on a 
honeymoon. But that didn’t last long. 
Nunis killed it before the marriage was 
consummated.” 

Pickett: “The problems we had with 
Mr. Nunis were a result of his coming in 
and sitting down and telling us exactly 
what he needed to be done and wi 
time tomorrow are you going to start 
doing it? Mr, Nunis is a very domineer 
g personality.” 

W. D. W. has one obligation to Orange 
County: It pays $2,000,000 in taxes annu- 
ally. But the Orange County sherirs 
budget alone went up 30 percent—went 
50,000 in one year. "The county 
has gotten nine months pregnant almost 
night and Disney ignores the pater- 
nity suit. Pickett: “Only the warm-body 
people profit." Newspapers, insurance 
salesmen, merchants. From December 
1971 to December 1972. Orange Gounty 
ined 42,012 new residents: а one-year 


increase greater than the populations 
of 43 Florida counties. Hotel rooms have 


proliferated like Watergate indictments: 
from fewer than 6000 to 21.000, with 
200 under construction and another 


5000-10,000 proposed. According to the 
Orange County Extension Service, each 
1000 new inhabitants means 27 blind 
people, 45 aged people, 37 juvenile delin- 
quents and no fewer than 83 alcoholics 
(making alcoholism the largest voting 
bloc in the nation). Services: jails, courts, 
s, schools, drying-out facilitic 
Coun 
In 1972, it assessed W.D. W.'s 
estate tax on the cash value of surround- 
ing propert long a bill for 
$15,000,000. The dispute is being adjudi- 
cated. If Osceola County wins, it'll be a 
terrific blow, compounding financ 
pressures on the Walker faction. P. 
defends Disney here. He feels that 
veloped land, including 7500 acres at 
W.D.W. set aside for conservati 
should not be assessed ar the going rate 
for an acre's worth of gas pumps. 
Employee housing is a serious problem. 
now in Orange County. There are 10.000 
Disncy kids, pulling down maybe $2.35 
n hour. The Papal State washed its 
hands of responsibility. Land values dou- 
bled, tripled; doubled the triplir 
contractors were reluctant to undertake 
low-income housing. Then, abrupuy, 
goosed by money considerations, Disney 
decided to go into the realestate busi 
ness. And big. Pickett: "They announced 
that they w 


c going to build twent 


For 10,000 employees. most of whom can 


afford to live only two or three per apart- 
ment? “Obviously. the whole concept 


was to go into the realestate land- 
development business with apartments.” 
Pickett came down hard. Twenty-two 


thousand units meant at least that many 
residents and another couple thousand 
alcoholics. The Disney organization 
ked off, became flustered. Pickett was 
told, “News to us: The announcement 
came out of California.” Ridgway said 
it came out of Florida and, gosh, he 
didn't know who'd thought up that crazy 
22,000 figure. Pickett: "The Disney or- 
ation vacillates between confusion 
1 chaos. It never gets better than con- 
fusion and never gets worse than chao: 
The domineering posture. though, re- 
mains pretty consistent. 

Comparisons are odious: nonetheless, 
I illustrate with one. The Martin Mari- 
cua firm arrived in central Florida in the 
late Fifties with 12,000 employees. It do- 
nated the land for one entrance road, 
donated the land and paid for construc- 
tion of a second road. Employees need 
services: Martin Marietta gave 400 acres 
for school and public purposes. Orange 
County had no sewage plant. Pickett 
“They came 10 us and said, "We'll 
‘ive you the money and the Land to build. 


n 


Enli 


оеп 
someone. 
Give Crow Light Whiskey. 


us back some- 


a sewage plant and jou pa 
time in the future, just give us a discount 
or something through the years until 
you pay us back. Disney hasn't given 
land to anyone for any purpose.” 

charlie Ridgway. He's in- 
Marietta has Federal 

ke care 


“Martin 
And, anyway, "We t: 


dignant. 
subsidi 
of our own sewage," True. This is called 
ve public relations. PU Aush my 
, you flush yours. 

While we're on the subject of fush- 
- Orange County has a special con- 
It’s the water-recharge area of all 
central Florida, The county is zoned for 
orange trees, one-acre housing and tourist 
facilities (the latter don't require second- 
ary services: schools, hespitals, paving). 
Pickett: “Disney's real big on planting 
trees on their own property. But I sin- 
cerely believe they don't give a damn 
about what happens outside the perimeter 
property.” W. D. W-s onsite е 
ntal efforts are admirable. For in- 
stance, treated sewage is shot by cannons 
over a tce farm: The rich water 
improves growth remarkably. (In future, 
W. D. W. hopes to supply its own p 
needs: ecological pragmatism.) 

Orange County has lost 5000 acres of cit 
1 two years. Orange County, Califor. 
(Disneyland), lost 50 percent of its 
¢ in ten years, Land va 
unprofitable. Pave 
nge groves and rain water 


PLAYBOY 


"t percolate through to the Florida aq 
n underground formation that 
every well from Orlando to 


rather succinctly Disney's concern for the 
quality of life beyond the magic pale. 
What can the county governments do? 
Not much, Pickett says, "We can't stop 
them by exercising a county regu 
but picture yourself hypothetically 
starting a business someplace . . 
based on a special law you 
that gives you the power of God. Now. 
can you picture what might happen if 
the government suddenly decided your 
whole damn law was illegal and uncon- 
stitutional? We're convinced it is and the 
next time we bump heads, we're going to 
take it to court and prove it" Maybe 
Pickett is bluffing. I cant judge. The 
Disney Bill was declared constitutional 
by the Florida supreme court. And the 
Disney legal department seems to have 
nticipated a Pickett or several Picketts: 
"IFany section, clause, sentence or pro- 
act... shall be held inoper- 
ative, invalid or unconstitutional . . . it 
shall not be deemed to affect the validity 
or constitutionality of any of the rem: 
ing parts of the act.” 

Even so, says Pickett, “At the moment, 
the one thing they can’t stand is a court 
test. Do you know what would happen 
on the stock market?” I don't know. But 
1 do know that Nunis and Gompany has 

335 alienated the two local governments 


that W. D. W. will have to work with 
most intimately. 

The warm-body people aren't alien- 
ated. They circle overhead. W. D. W. has 
bcen playing Rosalind to Orlando and 
it's just as they like it. Once a sleepy 
retirement town, Orlando has been 
renamed by its own nomenclature 
tment: “The Action Center of Flor- 


into Disney's orbit: Circus World, Sca 
World; Cypress Gardens and Silver 
Springs are expanding to catch the over 
flow. Anybody with a two-headed chicken 
ог a fourfootdeep sinkhole is printing 
up tickets. Spokesmen for Orlando's 
chamber of commerce fice to the east 
when they mention W. D, W. Sure, some 
fixed-income people have had to get out 
because of increased realestate taxes. 
Sure, there are hookers, pushers and 
apprentice big-city criminals now. It's 
the price of growth 
Even the Salvation Army is a Babbitt- 
ish Disney booster. I interviewed Brigi 
dier Richard Bergren. During W. D. W.'s 
fist eight months, his Salvation Army 
facilities were S.R.O. Indigents, drifters, 
nswered the siren whistle 
of warm weather and jobs. Early news- 
paper articles had pictured Bergren as 
being deeply worried. But Bergren 
doesn’t seem worried at all. The salva- 
tion business is just another numbers 
game. Bergre back, grandfatherly 
and comp! deep rugged of 
the gloss of dark, sturdy 


fice; there 
woods around us. “The people here gave 
one half milli ıs to build a wel- 
are building, entirely private means. 
Tell be ready this time next усаг. There's 
prosper € beyond the imagination 

with this, vou always bring in the un- 
bles, I don't condemn W. D. W. be- 
cause they've made my work harder; 
that’s what Im here for," And Bergren 
has a swell new ty. Warm bodies. 
Warm souls. 

Warm labor relations. W.D, W. ga 
unions a foothold. Florida has been stuck 
in the Cro-Magnon age of labor org: 
ion. As W. D. W. goes. so central Florid: 


des 


t 
gocs. (Right now, it goes at a 1.8 percent 
wnemployment rate: only mule sl 
and dumb-waiter makers out of 
‘The building trades eagerly negotia 
nostrike, no-stoppage contract. W. D. W. 
opened on time to the minute: an Au- 
gean effort for any project of that magn 


tude, Disney also agreed to accept the 


50 percent of the kids. No single 
had a chance. So six unions blurred their 
jurisdictions, formed a Service Trades 
Coundl. With considerable difficulty, i 
managed to recruit a majority. Though 
salaries were lower at W. D. W., the council 
ned a contract. It balked only once— 
when Disney suggested the council moni- 
tor bralessness. "We passed on that, 
says Paul McCastland, council chairman. 
"Disney is the fairest group I've negoti- 


ated with in Florida in the past twenty 
years. It's mostly top-down decision mak- 
ing. Everything is lH call you back, The 
organization leans toward summit meet- 
ings. Card. Walker has the yes or no on 
everything now." Or the maybe. Disney- 
land has experienced minor stoppages: 
ifornia is more labor wise. In Florida, 
unions can't afford to kill the duck that 
laid them a golden nest egg. 

A strike in Florida, where the orj 
tion has concentrated its assets, would be 
calamitous. In fact, the Walker manage- 
ment is under significant financial stress. 
Disney Productions has been a glamor 
issue for some time now. New York secu- 
rities mavens want a solid return on 
vestment, never mind family fun, never 
mind innovations, One Disney officer 
told me, “The Walker f: m doesn't 
know how to handle New York. They 
think you give a show." Headlines after 
a weak fist quarter indicate the psi 
of investment pressure, "DISNEY STOCK 
MAGIC WANES." “IRRATIONAL MOOD: OVER- 
REACTION TO DISNEY QUARTERLY." А six- 
percent profit dip initiated flurries of 
selling. On one full day's volume, Disney 
Productions took a nose dive steeper 
than the Matterhorn ride: down nearly 
ten points. Walt would have had a terse 
reaction. With help, perhaps, from his 
nomenclature department, he would 
have said, “Shove it." His business. His 
. But to finance W. D. W., Roy em- 
sale of stock. 


massive new 


Family holdings have been diluted. The 
Walker 


action hornpipes to a New York 
inst his own life 
insurance when he started Disneyland. 
But the time of risk is past. Adventure- 
land exists only as a theme kingdom. Size 
and respectability have made Disney Pro- 
ductions arteriosclerotic. 

New York pressure accounts for the 
premature announcement of 22.000 apart- 
ment units. “The 27,000-acre site—most 
of it a condominium for alligators and 
possums—has become somewhat burden- 
some: somewhat more burdensome should 
Osceola County score with its $15,000,000 
sessment. At present, Disney is build- 
g Lake Bucna Vista (originally Reedy 
Creck), one of the two cities provided 
for by its enabling legislation. A com- 
y of town houses and single-family 
second homes. They are leased 
to corporations ar a high price, 58000 or 
$10,000 per year. We visited several of 
these houses. Southern Califo rchi- 
tecture grafted forcibly onto central Flor- 
ida: pleasant enough, conservative. But 
Lake Buena Vista is a balance-sheet sue 
cess, An insurance firm, will lease 
one home and send agents down for three- 
day vacations as an incentive. More and 
more, the Papal enclave is focusing on 
real estate. It needs a fast cash turnover. 
“The dreams are gone. 

And Walt bequeathed dreams. His ten- 
suggested before, has saved 
and-dime leadership from its 


the nid 


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338 


characteristic befuddlement. But the 
biggest, the best of Walt’s dreams has 
proved discomfting. EPCOT is the 


an Experimental Pro- 
of Tomorrow. With- 
EPCOT represents the 
nd important concept 
n American corpora- 
tion. Before his death, Walt earmarked a 
good portion of W. D. W. for his second 
city: a city that could test and develop 
advanced urban technologi EPCOT 
would be 25 years ahead of its time: it 
would change continually. Mass trans- 
portation, sewage, energy. building medi 
ods, whatever: EPCOT would have 
0.000 residents lifetesting the newest 
d D of American industry. 

Yet EPCOT would also have been a 
show, the quintessential Tomorrowland. 
Admissions, queues, cash: Walt could 
have made it profitable. Certai 
EPCOT was an influential selling tool 
when Walt peddled W. D. W. to the Flor- 
ida legislature, Potenually, EPCOT could 
sed America. When Walt ar- 
rida, he was ready to go. 
c Kingdom, more or less a 
n Disneyland, the hotels, the 
ably bored him. As Gen- 


biggest. the bes 
totype Communi; 


ever proposed by 


R 


у, 


їп 
The M: 


eral Wil 
deni, say 


“Walt wasn't a repeat 
No. B Ш the present mana 
ent is: repeaters. Pickett told me 
inion was seconded by every Disney 

yee or Disney watcher we talked 
about three minutes 

t stopped breathing. 
Dead. But kept around as W; 
piece of the true cross Wa 
Nunis and Potter е the public 
relations value of EPCOT. It’s the only 
coming attraction that isn't Son of 
Disneyland—or sheer commerce 
But not a thing has been done, No Dis 
ney spokesman could remember a single 
item— conceptual or 
implement EPCOT. And Quinn 
had the gall to suggest that Disney's 
000 из were EPCOT. 


afte 


Balls. 
There 
cial and psycholog 
Society of Securities Analysis meen 
Walker was asked about EPCOT. He wal. 
fled for three wanseript pages about sew- 
ers and tree farms, then came out with it 
“Dl be very honest to say that we don't 
have any définitive plan for EPCOT, nor 
did Walt" Walt died seven years ag 
what's Walker's excuse? Ma 
range a séance. 


At that rate, Levittown 
'€ two sorts of reasons: 
At the New Y: 


ing to 

1 questioned a securiti 
would happen if Disney annou 
that it was shelving EPCO 
stock would probably go up. 
$400,000,000 sunk in W. D. W. 
zation hesitates to undertake 
multimillion-dollar projec: It couldnt 
stand the New York hea 

Moreover, EPCOT would require the 


dose cooperation of Disneys branch 
office—American Industry. And. Ameri- 
can Industry has evidenced typical 
shortsightedness: It isn't much interested 
EPCOT. Gene ministers 
EPCOT есиге, something 
el locomotive. Pot- 
Gobel in death. Im- 
itating Walt, he smokes heavily; Гог his 
better ideas, Potter has a copy of Bart- 
lett's Familiar Quotations on the desk. 
Potter: "Walt told me, get on your horse 
American industry has on 
p boards." When questioned, 
though, the plans on those drawi 
ds had slipped his 
" one Disney employee told me, 
“American industry is working 

new ways to sell cars 
bulbs." Anyhow, American industry has 
caught on to Disney. The "participant 
experience is well known: Working with 
Disney is working for Disney. 

We talked to half a dozen firms that 
had been hired as Disney consultants. 
“Unless we scream, they won't even put 
our name on the project. H's as if we 
didn't exist.” Well. it may be worth while 
to introduce a new soda in the Magic 
Kingdom. But to invest millions, say, 10 
develop a new communications system for 
Walt Disneys Experimental Prototype 
Community of Tomorrow at Walt Disney 
World, run by Walt Disney kids? Once 
bitten, twice nuts. 

The psychologi 
more compelling. I 
stance: Friend of mine tried to visit Dis- 
neyland. His belt buckle—ger this—had 
a bronze representation of a marijuana 
leaf on it. The Disneyland security hosts 
suggested he remove the belt. Then it 
was not a suggestion, My friend had to 
rent a locker for his belt and spend the 
afternoon thumb-hooking his pants up. 
EPCOT would be a real city, with real 
people—not artificial second-home 
community for middle-class salesmen like 
Lake Buena Vista. One Disney employee 
said, “Were terrificd of social issues. 
JOT would have high schools. OK: 
а develop great audiovisual equip- 
ment. But what would we teach? The 
Walker people don’t want to think about 
epistemology. They don't even know what 
the word means. And suppose the high 
school kids decided to burn an American 
flag?” Just suppose. Real people; real 
marijuana leaves. The Disney org: 
tion understands technological gimmick: 
nd show not life. If an urban problem 
an't be computerized or shot through 
a tube, it makes them irritable. 

Walts dream was a dirty trick. And he 
had another dream: It turned out to be 
another dirty wick. Walt envisaged a 
creative people: all 
hetic fraternity. Walt 
deal of cash to found his 
California Institute of the 
has been an ongoing night- 
mare for the Disney organization. Social 


1 reasons are perhaps 
ive you a lor in- 


community of youn, 


the arts in а syna 
left 


gres 


issues. Sexual issues. Drug 
apine talented young 
Greta Groom. Political views somewha 
to the left of Hubert Humphrey 

Students and faculty went at the Disney 
administration: Jt was like the battle 
between scorpion and tarantula in The 
Vanishing Desert. One teacher, unhapp: 
stripped nude at a faculty meeting. Не 
bert Gold tells the story delightfully i 
The Atlantic. He quotes one ex-lcan: 
“La had a little group that want 
ed to slash tires and chant Om 
eyes rolled up, and others who just want- 
ed to play the violin nine hours а day. 
Roy Disney was always telling us: Don't 
deface the $26,000,000 white walls.” And 
then there was “Womanhouse, with its 
nude closet, its monster garden, its men 
struation bathroom... the kitchen covered 
y pjacks-breasts 
and the torn and suffering - . . crocheted 
doth afterbirth womb room.” Can 
you imagine? Dick Nunis' private hell. 
Lardy, under Bill Lund, a Disney son-in- 
law, genuine efforts have been made to 
give Walts dream artificial respiration 
But Cal Arts reinforced the Disney par 
noia. Avoid social issues, Do only the 
things you know how to do. 

What's new at Disney Productions? 
Not very much. W. D. W. is Di 
but bigger: with golf courses 
estate developments and gove! 
ives to embarrass a fascist, And 
idle has been written without once 
ment the terrific enviro 
resistance Disney has met at M 
King, its proposed California wi 
sports complex. Admirable restrai 
think. Bill Schwartz, a stock analyst for 
Drexel, Burnham Co. predicts tha 
W. D. W. will be constructed in southern 
Europe. perhaps Sp years. from 
I'm not so sure. 1 doubt if Walker 
is ready to deal with people who don't 

h, people who have a history 
of chronic anti-Americanism. And how 
could he be sure of control? 

Its frankly tragic This isn’t the story 
of just another business grown too fat 
too unwieldy and cautious, for innova: 
tion. In a time when American industry 

subjected to knee-jerk abuse, Disney re 
fine reputation and the good 
mly all the nation’s people. In 
usc, Disney is our most. powerful 
ion. It has resources and prestige 
and opportunity. EPCOT—or at least a 
able, smaller version—could improve 
the quality of. American lile. But time is 
against Disney. The incumbent leader. 
ship is young. It has let financial consid. 
cations and a myopic social outlook rui 
what could have been positive forces of 
unguesed influence. Walr's cece: 
brave and always profitable dreams hang 
lifeless—feruses floating in formalde 
hyde. From California to Florida, C 
Walker and his men have been scatt 
Mouse-nots across the land. 


issues. Just im- 


th plastic fried eggs 


now. 


“There goes old Fogerty with his annual Christmas goose.” 


DMD Ц 


339 


PLAYBOY 


340 


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BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN GOES TO THE CARIBBEAN AND JUST MAYBE 
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ROBERT MORLEY ALSO TAKES A TRIP, BUT HIS IS BETTER. ARMED WITH 
FLY WHISK AND FALSE BRAVADO, HE CONQUERS THE DARKEST CORNERS 
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GARRY WILLS REVEALS HOW THE SILENT MAJORITY BECAME ANOTHER 
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JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH, NOTED ECONOMIST. POINTS AN AC- 
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MARSHALL BRICKMAN CONCOCTS AN OUT-THE-WINDOW SEXUAL BE- 
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MORTON HUNT TREATS THE SAME SUBJECT SERIOUSLY, IN “SEXUAL. 
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WHY IS THE BRASS MONKEY 
STILL IN HIDING? 


New inquiries suggest some nasty realities in the story behind the drink 
that defeated the Japanese Imperial Secret Service in World War II. 


Ona foggy nightin Macao 
in 1942,a name was whispered 
into the darkness. “Rasske! 

HE. Rasske!” 

Was this simply the cover 
name ofan Allied spy—code- 
named the Brass Monkey? Or, 
wasitalso the alias of a 
Japanese agent? 

Lately, some of our mail 
has suggested a startling new 
theory to resolve the contra- 
dictions in the Brass Monkey 
legend. Is it possible that 
Admiral Kokura, head of 
Kempeitai Counterespionage, 
and HE. Rasske were both 
double agents—and that each 
was protecting the other? 

The Story As Originally Told. 


The "facts" as leaked 

so far, revolve around a 

notorious club allegedly 

operated in the port of 

Macao. A small brass 

igurine squatting in a niche 
the door gave the place its 
name, and the sunshine yellow 
drink they served, its renown. 
Both were known as the 
Brass Monkey. 

Weare asked toassume, 
perhaps too conveniently, that 
only our operatives knew that 
the drink was the key to a spy. 
That by scratching out the 
words, "No Evil" from the 
coaster under the Brass 
Monkey cocktail, then eliminat- 
ing every letter from “The Brass 
Monkey” that didn't match 
those in “See, Hear, Speak,” the 
name of the contact—H.E. 
Rasske—would be revealed. 


The face in this photograph is said to be H.E. Rasske, the man we think was the Brass Monkey. 
Heublein Brass Monkey*: 48 Proof. Made with Rum, Smirnotf® Vedi and Natural Flavors GIS/3. Heubletn, Inc. Hartord, Conn. C6101, 
Sina 4 Dum pam oec 


Secrets of a Bar-Girl. 

Is it possible that none of 
these coasters got into the 
wrong hands: even though 
members of the Kempeitai no 
doubt infested the place? 
Surely they pumped every 
likely employee for information, 
especially the club's bar-girls. 
These girls routinely tempered 
their own intake of liquor by 
mixing the Brass Monkey with 
orange juice. Even with this 
stratagem, is it possible that 
none of these girls, however 
innocently, ever let slip a single 
piece of information? Or, that 
all of them successfully resisted 
thetemptation tosollout? — 
Possible, but unlikely. 

Incriminating Evidence? 

How then was the Brass 
Monkey spy ring able to per- 
form so cavalierly rightunder 
the nose of the enemy? Surely, 
it was more than dumb luck. 

Kokura was quoted as 
saying, "The Brass Monkey is 
worth two aircraft carriers in 
the Coral Sea." Was this 
ambiguous remark a quarded 
admission that Rasske was 
more valuable to Japan alive + 
than dead? Or, was his value 
to Kokura himself? 

That would solve the 
riddle of the all-tco-accommo- 
dating suicide of the Macao 
Kempeitci section chief and 
the closing of the Club itself at 
about the same time, Both 
events could have been 
engineered to cover Kokura, if 
the section chief was about to. 


un-mask him asa double-agent. 
Behind the Mask. 

The possibility that the 
Brass Monkey himself was 
“doubling” (with headquar- 
ters’ approval, of course) is too 
logical to discount. But why is 
the Bross Monkey still in 
hiding? Has he secrets still too 
dangerous to divulge? Does a 
former Japanese admiral still 
vow revenge for his betrayal? 
Or, could certain of Rasske's 
own ex-functionaries believe 
to this day that he deceived 
them? 

Will the Brass Monkey 
ever show his face again? We 
don't know. Mr. H.E. Rasske, if 
that really is your name— 
will you? 

What's a Brass Monkey? 

Its an absolutely smash- 
ing drink made from a secret 
combination of liquors. Tasty, 
smooth and innocentlooking, 
but potent. The color of sun- 
shine with the mystery of moon- 
light. If you've got along eve- 
ning ahead of you, try mixing 
the Brass Monkey with crange 
juice. Especially if you have 
your own secrets to keep, = 


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