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ENTERTAINMENT FOR ME 


PLAYBOY 


OUR ANNIVERSARY GIFT TO YOU: FICTION BY SAUL BELLOW, VLADIMIR NABOKOV, 
JOHN UPDIKE AND SEAN O’FAOLAIN * AN EXTRAORDINARY INTERVIEW WITH HUGH M. 
HEFNER • 20 YEARS OF PLAYMATES IN PICTURES (OF COURSE) » OUR ANNUAL PLAYMATE 
REVIEW * JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH ON WHAT HAPPENED TO THE DOLLAR » BRUCE 
JAY FRIEDMAN ON A SHORT—BUT NOT SHORT ENOUGH-STAY IN HAITI » ROBERT MORLEY 
ON HIS INVASION OF AFRICA • ART BUCHWALD ON A PERVERSION THAT'S ENGULFING 
AMERICA • GARRY WILLS ON THE ACTIVISTS OF THE SIXTIES » MORTON HUNT ON 
EXTRAMARITAL SEX * PLUS: A BACKSTAGE LOOK AT JERRY LEWIS • TOM DEWEY VS. DUTCH 
SCHULTZ AND LUCKY LUCIANO IN PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF ORGANIZED CRIME * THE 
TRIUMPHANT RETURN OF VERUSCHKA • THE WURST-BESSER SEX QUIZ • A VERY SPECIAL 
PLAYMATE GATEFOLD » TWO DECADES OF PLAYBOY'S MOST MEMORABLE MOMENTS 


JOIN OUR SPECTACULAR ANNIVERSARY PARTY—THERE’S A LOT MORE GOING ON INSIDE! 


H21095 Q30N378 + 3OI/ADTHOM ало SHY, 21 


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PLAY BILL “п cies ron us And а round of drinks, too. You don't sce many magazines celebrating longevity 
or anything else these days. What you do sce is a publishing landscape dotted with the bones of big maga- 
zines, once considered institutions, that have foundered and died: Colliers, Look, Life. But Pravaov this month celebrates its 
20th year and is not just healthy but damned robust. We're also the most frequently imitated magazine around, and you know 
what they say about sincere flattery. So on this birthday, prosperous and flattered, we agreed to go out and have a little fun— 
feeling that we owed it to ourself, by God 
First we decided to interview the man behind гтлхвоу and something of a cultural force in his 
own right: Hugh M. Hefner. The interview is good by all of our normal standards and extraordi- 
nary in the way it reveals the essence of a man who has been so widely unknown, or misunder- 
stood, up to now. As easy as they are on the eye and as full of information, Playboy Interviews 
do not come easy. In fact, the process can be a lot like pulling teeth. Sometimes with a screw- 
driver, When we started out to interview the boss, we took special care in selecting the inter- 
viewer—wouldn't you? After some thought, we settled оп Larry DuBois, who has become a real 
stand-by for us, having interviewed Jack Anderson and Roman Polanski, among others. DuBois 
throws himself imo his work with a vengeance and, for this job, spent the better part of six 
w all of this complex man's facets and explored. thoroughly 
The results are remarkable and we've given DuBois a couple 


A lot has happened in this first 20—more than we realized until we 
went through the archives and selected some of the high points for an 
informal album: Twenty Years of Playboy. We also have a ten-page 
Playmate retrospective—which features а 40 рі company from our first 
two decades—and (will it never stop?) our annual Playmate Review. Also, 
there is Painted Lady, which Veruschka brushes on some skintight 
clothes and is photographed by Holger. Striking, we think. 

Over the years, PLAYBoy has published some of the very best fiction 
around. Other magazines continue to bail out of the fiction business, 
leaving us all a little poorer. But you can tak from this issue. Where 
else could you find new stories by Saul Bellow, V. Nabokov, John 
Updike and Sean O'Faolain? No NABOKOV 
place we know oL Humboldt's 
Gift is taken from Bellow's upcom- 
ing novel of the same title, which 
will be published by Viking. Na- 
hokov's story, 4 Nursery Tale, will 
be included in his collection Ty- 
rants Destroyed, to be published 
by McGraw-Hill next. fall, The 
illustration for Nabokov's story 
is by Elizabeth Bennett. Nevada 
is Updike in good form, and 
Diirling, or the Faithless Wife 
O'Faolain just being marvelous, which is his specialty. Fiction lives. 

But man does not live by fiction alone. He needs some journalism and 
analysis, too. And never let it be s; that PLAYBOY does not serve the 
whole n n this issue we have The Country That Wasn't 
There, by Garry Wills. H is Wills's thesis that as Americans earnestly tried 
to deepen their identities over the past few years, becoming black or gay 
ог women, they lost their identity as Americans. This makes the third 
пе Wills has appeared in this magazine in as many months. We've told 
that if he keeps this up, we'll have to move him to Chicago and give BENNETT 
m an office. So far, he's stayed put in Baltimore, writing his newspaper 
column and working on a book about Thomas Jefferson. GALBRAITH 

We decided that the time was ripe for A Layman's Guide to Monetary 
Crises after it became clear that the dollar would never again be the Secretariat of curren- 
Чез and that no smart German or Japanese banker would take payment in dollars if there 
were a way to avoid it. John Kenneth Galbraith, eminent economist, wit and statesman, studied. 
the situa and tries to dear up some of the confusion as well as offer remedies of his own. 
As а companion to Galbraith’s article, there is Will the Real Gnomes of Zurich Please Stand Up! 
by Andrew P. Tobias, who is а connibuting editor on financial matters to New York. Gnomes 
and speculators are in bad repute these days—most days—but it's à dirty job and somebody 
got to do it. Besides, your friend at the Chase isn’t above making a few bucks in currency spec 
lations, as Tobias points out. 

A while back. Bruce Jay Friedman took a little trip to the Caribbean to clear some of the cob- 
webs, get New York out of his system and just generally relax. So he checked into Haiti. There 
he ran into a regular rogues’ gallery of international con men and fugitives, some of them so 
desperate and sleazy they would depress Mary Poppins. If it didn't make for a great vacation, it at least was terrific material for 
Haiti, Goodbye, Friedman’s account of his trip. 

Wills, Galbraith and Friedman you've heard of and read in these pages before. O'Connell Driscoll is а newcomer, but one we 
expect you'll be hearing from more and more. Driscoll is a young California writer and Jerry Lewis, Birthday Doy is his first major 
magazine article. It isan impressive debut. Driscoll spent several days with Lewis, traveling and watching him perform. He caught 
all the moods and the strain and the very essence of showbiz—the paranoia. The illustration for Driscoll's article is by SI 


WILLS 


Shea. To fill your January ration of serious nonfiction, there is the sixth installment of Richard Hammer's series on organized 
crime and the fourth part of Morton Hunt’s examination of changing sexual attitudes since Kinsey. The Hammer installment 

vestigations and string of convictions took him to the 
and that's your crime and sex for this issue. 


deals with the rise of Tom Dewey, the fearless New York D.A. whose 


top—almost. Hunt examines extramarital and postmarital se: 

But there's still humor and we all know that the only thing in shorter supply and morc desperately required in this world is 
crude oil. But for humor, you don't have to go hat in hand to some Arabian sheik. One of the first things you should do is read 
Marshall Brickman’s sexual-attitudes quiz, Is It Nice to Have Sex with a Brussels Sprout? Before 
we took Brickman’s test, we thought that one over. We’ hot sure. Kumquats, certainly, 
Rutabagas, never. But Brussels sprouts fall into that gray area covered by “taste.” (Assistant Art 
Director Bob Post is responsible for the artwork that accompanies Brickman’s quiz.) 

Then there is Art Buchwald's contribution, Can Tennis Swapping Save Your Marriage? 
‘That particular aberration has reached epidemic proportions in some areas of society—not sur- 
prisingly, those where a lot of tennis is played—and we thought it was high time somebody said 
something about it. Buchwald got the nod. Lousy backhand, but the kid can write. The illus- 
tration for Tennis Swapping is by Hedda Johnson. 

For the past year or so, a number of funny young guys have been showing up at our offices, 
moving in, doing a lot of typing, generally hanging around and getting on the payroll. We don't 

m really mind—in fact, we're pleased—except it's bewildering. Every one of them has managed 
2 to keep his sense of humor intact in spite of growing up in the Fifties 
MORLEY "o and Sixties. It must have been the strontium 90 in the milk, 

The first onc of these guys was G. Barry Golson. We enjoyed the stuff 
he kept sending in as а Irce-lancer, invited him out from Connecticut to 
have a look at him and liked what we saw enough to hire him. He keeps 
writing these funny things and we keep publishing them. "This month 
he may have tipped his hand and revealed his secret in Рт OK— 
You're So-So. Read it and see if you, too, can maintain equanimity, 
even a smile, in the face of life as it is. Golson's own method is re- 
markably simple: "It шау be unorthodox, but whenever I feel plagued 
by mental disorders, I tell myself that I'm OK, that life is pretty good 
and that other people are a bunch of yo-yos. 

"Ehe last guy to join this parade of wits is John Blumenthal, our new- 
est A: at Editor. Your Horror- 
scope is his first contribution to 
PLaysoy. It seemed to Blumenthal 
that astrology was woefully deft- 
cient in at least опе re; lc 
never scemed to predict any of the 
genuinely awful things that hap- 
pen to most of us. So Blumenthal 
broke out some charts, spent his 
evenings looking decply into the 
heavens (it is rumored that he did 
some barking from time to time, 
but no one here is sure) and came 
witha horoscope suited to the real world we have all come to know. 
Life is, after all, six to five against, as Damon Runyon 

Those of you who have heen reading New Republic 
days who hasn't?) will recognize the name Judith Wax. Late last summer, 
her parody The Waterbury Tales appeared in that magazine. It was so 
faithful to the spirit of both Chaucer and Watergate that Time and 
Newsweek picked it up and used it in their sections on national affairs. 
We've known about Wax and her comic gifts for some time now. Just 
as in every January for the past six years, she is on hand with That 
HAMMER Tooke Was the Year That Was. No year is really short of material for Wax. But 

е 1973 was ridiculous, 

We're always glad to sce Robert Morley in our pages, and we're especially pleased to have 
an article of his in this anniversary issue. No doubt every magazine has its favorites, and Morley 
is one of ours. His wit is droll, his delivery is deft and we just like him. His article this month is 
Mr. Morley, I Presume, an account of his trip to Africa basic Hemingway story. 

Harvey Kurtzman and Will Elder are also old friends, They've been responsible for Liitle 
Annie Fanny all these years and we thought it would be nice to run a picture of them and let 
them know how much we appreciate their work. This month, they have Annie running into the 
Mafia. I's an installment we couldn't refuse. 

Quick. What do people think of when they i ? The gatefold, right? Well, for 

STFEDMAN our 20th anniversary, we decided to do something special with that feature. While you enjoy it, 
think of the work Staff Photographer Dwight Hooker went through to produce it. Of the 13 
Playmates photographed by Hooker (who also shot this month's cover), this was by far the most difficult 

Richard Steedman is the photographer responsible for the picture that accompanies Emanuel Greenberg's drink feature, The 
Other Bubblies. Stecdman's big problem was getting the bubbles to behave themselves. 

We took extra care with this issue. After all, 20 is а pretty important birthday. But we aren't planning for our old age just yet. 
This year has great promise. And visionaries among us are looking to the next 20. Although the future of magazines is clouded, 
what with Court rulings and postal hikes, the future of this magazine looks good. And who's going to argue with our track record? 


a. s: 
JOHNSON 


PLAYDOV. sanuany, 1875, voume з. 
Ret PMD AT CMICAGO, ILL. ANDAT 


NUMBER 1. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY FLAYBOY. IN NATIONAL AND REGIONAL EDITIONS. PLAYBOY BUILOING, DID N MICHIGAN AVE. CHICAGO, ILL. GONT. SECOND-CLASS POST. 
IONAL FAILING OFFICES. SUBSCRIPTIONS: IN THE UNITED STATES, MO FOR ONE YEAR, FONFMASTER; SEND FONM 3:78 TOPLAYDOT, P.O, BOK 2420, BOULDER, COLD, B0302. 


* 


VICEROY EROY 


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


vol. 21, по. 1—january, 1974 


PLAYBOY. 


CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 


PLAYBILL > + А 
DEAR PLAYBOY. s n 
PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS. = 19 
BOOKS —— 22 
RECORDINGS ke 30 
DINING-DRINKING.... 34 
MOVIES " z MY 
TELEVISION = а 
THEATER 42 
THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 47 
THE PLAYBOY FORUM. si 
SEXUAL BEHAVIOR IN THE 1970S—orticle MORTON HUNT 60 
PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: HUGH M. HEFNER—candid conversation 63 


HUMBOLDT'S GIFT—fiction - ............SAUL BELLOW B6 
A LAYMAN'S GUIDE TO MONETARY 


CRISES— article = JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH 90 
THE ELEVENTH-HOUR ЅАМТА gifts 95 
Playmate Reprise A NURSERY TALE—fiction 28: VLADIMIR NABOKOV 98 
TWENTY YEARS OF PLAYMATES —pict 102 
YOUR HORRORSCOPE—humor fes JOHN BIUMENTHAL 113. 


THE OTHER BUBBLIES— drink 
15 IT NICE TO HAVE SEX WITH 


....... EMANUEL GREENBERG 114 


А BRUSSELS SPROUT?—humor Е... MARSHALL BRICKMAN 117 
MR. MORLEY, 1 PRESUME—article ROBERT MORLEY 121 
PAINTED LADY — picloriol E 122 
PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF ORGANIZED CRIME— eriicle RICHARD HAMMER 131 
O LUCKY GIRL!—playboy's playmate of the month А 138 
PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor... Р В 152 
JERRY LEWIS, BIRTHDAY BOY—porconatity O'CONNELL DRISCOLL 154 
CAN TENNIS SWAPPING SAVE YOUR MARRIAGE? humor. -ART BUCHWALD 157 
FREE STYLE!—oltire ... E 160 
THE VARGAS GIRL— picto AIBERTO VARGAS 165 
NEVADA —fiction JOHN UPDIKE 167 
HAITI, GOODBYE—article BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN. 169. 
THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS—humor e JUDITH WAX 170 
THE COUNTRY THAT WASN'T THERE—epinion ....... GARRY WILLS 173 
DÜRLING, OR THE FAITHLESS WIFE—fiction „SEAN O'FAOIAIN. 175 
PLAYBOY'S PLAYMATE REVIEW— pictorial 179 
THE BALLAD OF LUKA THE HOSE—ribold clossic... IVAN BARKOV 194 
TWENTY YEARS OF PLAYBOY —pictoriol... 197 
I'M OK—YOU'RE SO-SO—psrody ...........6. BARRY GOLSON 213 
PLAYBOY'S ANKUAL WRITING AWARDS 2 216 
ОМ THE SCENE—personclities 224 
PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 238 
THE REAL GNOMES OF ZURICH—orticle. ANDREW Р. TOBIAS 248 

Playboy Album LITTLE ANNIE FANNY —solire.... HARVEY KURTZMAN ond WILL ELDER 291 


тигу AAE TOBE RETURNED AND по RESPORSIBILITY CAN BE ASSUMED FOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS, ALL RIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT TO FLAYBDY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCONDITIONALLY ASSIGNED 
FOR PUBLICATION ANE COPYRIGHT PURPOSES AND AS SUBJECT TO FLAYBGY'S UNRESTRICTED RIGHT TO EDIT AND TO CON МЕНТ EDITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT © 1873 6Y PLAYEOY. ALL RIGHTS 
RESERVED. PLAYBOY AND FABBIT HEAD SYMBOL ARE MARKS DF PLAYBOY, REGISTERED U. S. PATENT OFFICE, MARCA REGISTRADA, MARGUE DEPOSEE NOTHING WAY BE REPRINTED IN WHOLE OR IN 
PART нот WRITTEN PERMISSION FROM THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIMILAPITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION AND SEMIFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AND ANY REAL PEOPLE AND 
PLACES 15 PURELY COINCIDENTAL, CREDITS COVER: MODEL/ PLAYMATE CYNDI WOOD, DESIGNED ау LEN WILLIS, PHOTOGRAPHY BY DWIONT HOONER. OTHER PHOTOGRAPHY BY. BILL ARSENAU 

PLATS: DOM ALMAE P. tee, LONNIE BADIS, Р. 3. BREYN PUBLIC Li0/EFA NEWS PHOTO. P. 12% CHARLES М. BUSH, Р . 217, CAMERA PRESS, P. 216. 217. MARIO салшы, P. 170 (3). 187: DAVID 
Cham, Fs 178, 102, ALAN CLIFTON. P. a; SEFF COHEN, г 217, GARY COLE, P. A, DEPARTMENT OF THE TREASURY, P. 122, JOYCE DOPAKTM. P. 3 RICHARD FEGLEY. P. 178. 183. TSC: GERTRUDE FEHR. 
Pa BILL Ако MEL лос. P. 190 (3), Tas MLL PRANTE P 3, 4 (3), ED GALLUCCI. P. 3: HOLGER. P. 3 (1): DWIGHT HOOKER, P 179. 186: СІНІЦА, P- d: TOM КЕР. P. 4; JEFF LOWERTHAL. P. 3; 
MURRAY HASDER. P. A. MINDAS. P- EO. 181. IA, тй, PATRICK MORAN, P. 216: N.Y. DAILY NEWS, F 133 (4). 134 (5). J BARRY OTIOURKE, P. 4 (3). 216, 217; PICTORIAL PARADE. P. 122. PONPIO 
posi, р. UIS (3). тен. 191. SMOTWELL, P. 4, 140. 151, VERNON IL. SMITH. P. 3, 4, 216: MORT TADDER, Р. 3; IOPP-S CHEWING GUM. INC. P. 26, UT 1. P. 132 (3), 133 (3). 134 (2): WIDE WORLD 
PHOTOS, P. 133 (3). P. лосаи FROM THE COLLECTIONS CF; FRANK BEZ (2), DON ERONSTEIN, MARIO CASILLI (5). FIGGE/ DE LONG (3). PETER GOWLATD, CURT GUNTHER, ARTHUN-JAMES. OWIGHT 
HOOKER, Ток KELLET, EO LEJA RUSS MEYER, ORLANDO/ GLOBE. POMPEO POSAR (10). DESMOND RUSSELL. ALERAS UNDA (3), KON VOGEL. WILLIAM READ WOCOFIELO, DUNNE YEAGER (2). F 193-211 
FROM THE COLLECTIONS OF; NAL ADAMS, BILL ARSEMAGLT (2), JAMES DAES, BROADWAY PHOTOCRAPHIC STUDIO, DON BRONSTEIN (3). DAVID CHAN. FALL DAVIS, BEN DENISON, JOWN DEREK- 
Frank ECK. ALFRED EISENSIALDY, СЛАНО FIOLLY. MEN FRART2. BURT CLINN, LARRY DALE CORDON. JACK HAMILTON. DWIGHT HOOKER. JOE MYANS. GORDON KIBEEE. BILL KOBAIK/ GLOBE 
Лотов Int. STAN MALIMONSKI, MARVIN, E NEWMSN. A BIRBY O'POURKE MICKEY PALLAS/R. SEAVER, PARAMOUNT. BEA PAUL. PLAYBOY STUDIOS, FONAN POLANSKI, РОНРЕО POSAR (i), 
ALAN POLLOS, PUNCH. ARNOLD RYAN. FRAKK SCHALLWIS. LARRY SCHILLER, FRED SCHNELL, LARRY SWAN. MIKE SHEA (4). VERNON L. SITH, PHILIP D, STERNS, STARS AND STRIPES- PETE 
TURNER. UTED PRESS PHOTO. SHERMAN WEISRUAD, SAM WU. BUNNY YEAGER. P. 61, ILLUSTRATION BY JONN CRAIG. P. 95-97. CONSTRUCTIONS BY MARTIN WATSERSKL. P. 114, COUCH COU 

Test YHE PACE COLLECTION, INC. Р, 207, COVER PORTRAIT COURTESY TIME MAGAZINE; COPYHIGHT TIME. INC, 1957. PORTIONS OF THIS ISSUE © PLAYBOY EACH YEAR FFON 1952 THROUGH 197 


GENERAL OFFICES: rLATBEY BUILDING, ms 


N*5 
CHANEL 


PERFUME 


PLAYBOY 


HUGH M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher 


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


EDITORIAL 
ARTICLES: рлу» nuTLER editor, GEOFFREY 
NORMAN associate edilor, G. BARRY COLSON 
assistant editor = FICTION: ROBIE MACAULEY 
editor, SIANLEY vALEY associate editor, 
SUZANNE MG NEAR, WALTER SUBLETTE assistant 


editors » SERVICE FEATURES: TOM OWEN 
OUR C ASSETTES DON T modern living editor, ROGER WIDENER assistant 
editor; иовкит t, CWEEN fashion director, 
avin marr fashion editor; THOMAS MARIO 
SELF-DESTRUCT! food е drink editor - CARTOONS: маннит 
" Urry editor + COPY 


ARLENE BOURAS editor, 
Columbia cassettes are made to stay alive for a long time. In fact, they're the only STAN AMBER assistant editor = STAFF: ROBERT 
E EE E J. SHEA, DAVID. STEVENS senior editors: 

E cm TAURENCE GONZALES, RIG TOTTERTON, DAY 
We have low noise/high output gamma-ferric oxide tape. And thanks to a 20-20,000 uvm cubo mid CH e, 
Hz frequency range, what you hear is what you pet. 


BAUER, WILLIAM J, HELMER, GRETCHEN MCNEESE 
We use oversized Mylar slip sheets; impregnated with graphite. So there's CARL SNYDER associate editors; DOUGLAS C. 
no friction. Then the tape is guided along by Delrin rollers, mounted in metal pins. RESO UTI UCASE Ue Cea ees Te 


You can't find 2 more sure-footed cassette. JAMES R. PETERSEN, ARNIE WOLFE assistant! 


е е x editors: SUSAN EISLER, МАША NEKAM, 
And to top it off, each cassette comes with two extraself-sticking ENON Aves Dues GIO. pane 
recording labels, an index and a bonus coupon. That gives you one free SX. meds m EUR EIN 
C-60 cassette after you've bought 11. 


editors; J. vauk Gerry (business & finance), 
Our cassettes are something special. We call them fail-safe. You'll call NAT HENTOFF, RICHARD WARREN LEWIS, 
them fantastic. 


RAY RUSELL, JEAN SHEPHERD, JOHN SKOW 
© COLUMBIA 


BRUCE WILLIAMSON (movies), TOMI UNGERER 
wes THE FAIL-SAFE TAPE 


conbibuling edilors = ADMINISTRATIVE 
SERVICES:HATRICIA PAPANGE administrative 
editor; козе JENNINGS йиз c permissions; 
MILDRED ZIMMERMAN administrative assistant 


ART 
Walt Frazier reall лом STAERLER, KERIG rore associate directors; 
н. MICHAEL, мэмәх executive assistant; BON 
POSF. ROY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, CHET SUSKI, GOR: 


knows how to enjoy | DON MORTENSEN, FRED NELSON, JOSEPH PACZEK 


ALTREDZELCER assistan directors; JULIE FILE 


a time out EE E 
E - g 


PHOTOGRAPH 
MARILYN GRABOWSKI west сой! editor: 


Up to the final buzzer it's hustle and pressure. For 
a complete change of pace Walt relaxes with his hi- дн Бен eee Ба? 
system. He's a Pioneer hi-fi fan from start fo finish — ed c C M Put een eee 
AM-FM stereo receiver, turntable, cassette tape deck Ra ALTA MT ONERE OR FEROCES INTRO 
and speakers. After all, one great performer appre- Qux FEGLEY, DWIGHT HOOKER, POMPEO гози staf) 
ciates another. For the finest in high fidelity, visit your photographers; MARO CASILLA, MILL AND 
Pioneer dealer. U.S. Pioneer Electronics Corp. 4 MEL EIGGE. BRIAN D. HENNESSEY, ALEXAS URBA 


178 Commerce Road, Carlstadt, N.J. 07072 > contributing photographers: JUDY JOHNSON 
' e assistant editor; tro кшыл. photo lab 


supervisor; JANICE BERKOWITZ MOSES chief 


0 PIONEER E PME 


when you wan! something betler 


PRODUCTION 
Jonn mastno director; ALLEN VARGO та 
ELEANOKE WAGNER, RITA JOHNSON, 
MANDIS, RICHARD QUARIAKOLL assistants 


READER SERVICE 
CAROLE CRAIG director 


CIRCULATION 
THOMAS с. 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. 5. ROSENZWEIG 
executive assistant to the publisher; 
07 / Canada: S. Н. Parker Co. Ont. | RICHARD M. КОРЕ assistant publisher 


‘Perth sends you its Best for the Holidays 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


EJ гонг PLAYBOY MAGAZINE - PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


THIS SPORTING LIFE 

Your October interyiew with National 
Football League Commissioner Pete Ro. 
zelle was perfectly timed and is another 
example of the quality I've come to ех 
pect from rraynoy. Commissioner Ro- 
zelle’s comments are very entertaining 
and Im certain I speak for sports fans 
from all over the country when I say, 
Thank you. 


Dennis E. Wilson 
St. Marys, West Virginia 


Rozelle responds to interviewer Larry 
Linderman's charge that militarism has 
crept into football by saying, “We try to 
put on a pageant and thats all... it 
hasn't been our intent to be political and 
we certainly don't want to hecome a cause 
of political controversy among our fans. 

I would remind Rozelle about a relatively 
recent Green Bay Packers pregame show 
in which Melvin Laird swore in more 
than 300 Armed Forces volunteers. If that 
isn't militaristic, I don't know what is. 
Rob Waters 
Norwalk, Connecticut 


In your interview, Pete Rozelle ques- 
tions the ability of blacks to quarterback 
an N. team. АП I can say is that 
white quarterbacks of consistently ques 
tionable ability such as George Mira, 
Bobby Douglass and Kent Nix have 
had jobs for years as starters or backup 
quarterbacks. To date. no black quar- 
terbacks have been given comparable 
opportunities. 


Joc! Simmons, Jr. 
Monroe, Louisiana 


Commissioner Rovelle’s comments аге 
especially interesting to me; last year, I 
completed a study of institutional racism 
in professional football. With the back- 
ing of much evidence, 1 find, contrary to 
Rovelle’s view, that racism is an everyday 
part of the professionalfootball scene. 
Rozelle argues that public knowledge of 
the sports internal political problems 
will ruin it. This implies that the game 
must be saved at the expense of eradicat- 
ing its social political ills. From my per- 
spective, these ills will be more easily 
eradicated only when the public becomes 
aware of them. To choose between. “sav- 
ing" sport and doing away with racism 


should be easy. And, in reality, the choices 
are hardly mutually exclusive. 

As for Rozelles daim that the num 
ber of black players in the league and at 
quarterback is not regulated, allow me to 
inform you that from performance statis- 

including starting rosters and all-star 
teams, it is clear that only the best black 
players gain access to the N.F.L 
Mediocrity is a white luxury. The list of 
black quarterbacks presented by Rozelle 
includes a minuscule proportion of the 
quarterbacks who have played in the pro- 
fessional ranks. Furthermore, six of the 
nine quarterbacks mentioned were the 
most marginal performers at quarier 
back; they played only when all other 
quarterbacks were too injured to play. 
Rozelle also poinis out that quarterbacks 
and linebackers “require more education 
in technical and mental skills than any 
other positions" and claims that black 
players (who've largely atiended small 
colleges) don't "ger the football educa- 
tion they need to make the N. F. L.” Such 
reasoning, prevalent throughout thc 
N. F. L., is fallacious. Many white quar- 
terbacks and linebackers have come from 
ges and have done the job. 
Rozelle maintains that “the 
[N. F. L] owners take a great personal 
interest in the players; they become part 
of their families in many са Black 
Americans have had to contend with such 
white paternalism for 350 years, and to- 
days young blacks find it repugnant. 
More of the same won't е the situa- 
tion any better. 

Jonathan J. Brower 

Assistant Professor of Sociology 
California State University 
Fullerton, California 


1 wish your interviewer had forgone 
your usual liberal borseshit concerning 
the problems of race relations and drugs 
in the N.F. L. and asked Rozelle to com- 
ment on the most significant question in 
the minds of pro-football fans today: 
What is professional football going to 
do to keep the spectators awake during 
games? Today, most games are dominated 
by the cheap field goal, which is usually 
kicked by some 150-pound European soc- 
cer player imported to make American 
football one big yawn. At least if Rozelle 
had answered that, I wouldn't have had 


years, 5 


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You don’t have to get out of 
bed to tum off this Zenith 
portable TV. Just pre-set the 
timer for up to 3 hours, 
Then even if you fall asleep 
during a late show, the 

TV will switch off — 
automatically. For listening 
Privacy, there’s an 
earphone with a 15-foot 
cord, Plus a dependable 
Zenith 100% solid-state 
chassis. Instant picture 

and sound. And a bright, 
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in a handsome Lustre White 
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your Zenith dealer. 


The quality goes in 
before the name goes on. 


PLAYBOY 


to sufler through an interview that beat 

the same dead-horse issues of race and 

fatcat football franchises into the ground. 
Robert. Rossfeld 
Evansville, Indiana 


FALLOUT FEEDBACK 
Congratulations on that fabulous cat- 
alog of atomicage mutants, The Fallout 
Follies (pLaynoy, October). Authors Scot 
Mortis and Wayne McLoughlin had me 
on the floor. Follies is one of the best 
pieces I've ever read in your magazine. 
Adrian Loveridge 
Culver City, California 
Well, at least it was the best satire we 
ran last year. McLoughlin and Morris 
took top honors in that category in our 
annual writing awards. 


HUSTLING HUCKSTERS 
I handle Glenn W. Turner's public 

tions and all I can say is that your 
article, The Promoters, which 
Turner, really tells it like it ist 
tions to you and to writ- 
a Td like to say much 
ad his legal batles, 
but, at present, he is being prosecuted by 
the Federal Government in Jacksonville 
Florida, and the judge has placed a tight 
gag rule on him, his auorneys and his 
agents. Nevertheless, we were encouraged 
by your report. 

"Tom Bush 

Altamonte Springs, Florida 


My cor 
er Stephen Y 
more about Turn 


Until the lobbyridden Government 
passed a bunch of initiative-killing laws, 
I worked for Glenn Turner's companies. 
AIl those companies offered excellent sal- 
able products and all it took to make a 
good living was personal effort and a 
positive attitude. I'm no longer working 
but the tr and mot 
got from that experience helps 
me daily. Turner's genuine love for his 
fellow man and faith in our goodness 
have inspired thousands. God bless you 
for featuring him, and remember, you're 
only as great as you dare to be! 

Joe Roth 

St. Clements, Ontario. 

We suppose so, Joc. 


Yala's article is most interesting, but, 
while it correctly documents the success 
of Terry Knights Grand Funk Railroad, 
it fails to tell the complete story of hi 
later rock promotion efforts. 
that "rewards are sure 10 follow” once 
ight again assaults the musical tastes 
of young America, Since Grand Funk, 
Knight has been “rewarded” with critic 
and commercial turkeys cach time his 
Mom's Apple Pie group has released an 
LP. As for his anonymous combo, Faith, 
when it was discovered that its debut al- 
bum was a rerelease of а record cut by 
justifiably obscure Midwestern group, 


Limousine, United Artists Records termi- 
nated its agreements with Brown Bag 
Records and Terry Knight. 
John M. Lomax 
Nashville, Tennessee 


Stephen Yafa's profile of Davey Rosen- 
berg in The Promoters captures only one 
ide of him. Davey is а warm human 
being who knows that the public is al- 

He's truly 
s hc claims, 
the world's greatest press agent 

Carol Dod: 
псіѕсо. California 

Miss Doda and her legendary chest can 
still be seen at the place where topless 
began, Davey Rosenberg's San Francisco 
night club, the Condor. 


SKIN SHOW 

In your September Party Jokes, dere 
was a mention of a fictional band named 
The Four Skins. I am writing to inform 
you that there is an actual Four Skins 
and I am in it, Enclosed is a photo of us 


off the job. Thanks for your publicity. 
however unwitting. I just hope that there 
is no attendant rush on our name by 
foursomes around the country with a 
sense of humor as banal as our own 
Redd Regan 
Davis, California 


CRIMINAL CLASS 
Richard Hammer's September install- 

ment of Playboy’s History of Organized 
Crime wins my plaudits for its research 
1 attention to detail. I was especially 
struck by his statement, “Maybe the poli- 
ns could outlaw booze, but all the 
id all the pious pronouncements 
were not going to stop thirsty people 
from finding ways to buy and drink the 
stulL" If we substitute the word marijua- 
na for booze and eliminate the references 
to thirst and drink, we have as good a 
case as any for the legalization of pot. 

Тап A. Overend 

Toronto, Ontario. 


laws 


As a longtime chronicler of the under- 
world in fact and fiction, I congratulate 
Richard Hammer for his accurate spa 
ing in the muck of organized crime. Т 
quarrel, however, with the limitations of 
his purview, with its absence of value 
judgments, as if to introduce them would 
somehow corrode journalistic objectivity. 


Hammer never addresses the central 
questions of organized crime, which are: 
What is its function? And does it supple- 
ment and strengthen the маш» quo or 
does it interfere with it? Organized 
crime. of course, is the dark underbelly of 
our capitalistic system, But more signifi- 
cantly, the interests of organized crime, 
thought to be opposed ro those of the 
established rich, are, in actuality, 
inseparably. Big business and 
bossism have always gone hand in hand. 
"The fix—that instrument of political cor- 
ruption so popular during Prohibition— 
ensured the continuing flow of illegal 
revenue not only to the Syndicate but to 
big business as well. Eroding the elector- 
al process, sabotaging the Jaw and con- 
trolling labor by racketeering serves not 
only the interests of the mobsters but the 
interests of corporations as well. Another 
question arises: If gangsters perform so 
effectively for the powers that be, why 
are they persecuted, prosecuted, deport- 
ed and harassed? The contradiction, it 
seems to me, is only an apparent one. 
The Mafia families have done well, 
against odds. The Dow-Jones families 
have done better, with the odds. Whe 
the Dow-Jonesers go after the Mob, it's 
only because the Mob has outlived its 
usefulness. Who needs the Costellos and 
the Lucianos to maintain order when the 
Nixons and the Rockefellers can do it 
without them? Why allow the Mafia all 
that skimoff—more properly the loot of 
Episcopalians? Yet, if our economy hi 
bottom and the natives get restless, we 
see the mobster rise again. After all, 
didn’t Al Capone base his parole appeal 
on the grounds that he wanted to "fight 
communism”? 
rei Bright 
North Hollywood, Californ 


Your series points up the need to re- 
think our attempts to legislate morality, 
especially in the arca of gambling. Today, 
as in previous years, illegal gambling 
brings in billions to the underworld and 
the flow of money isn't going to stop. 
People who want to gamble are going to 
whether it is legal or not. But if we le; 
ize and regulate gambling, we provide 
revenue for much-needed programs 
while, at the same time, we choke off the 
greatest source of income for organized 
ne. Why shouldn't we give people the 
freedom to strike it rich? That's free 
enterprise. 


Michael Boland 
East Moline, Illinois 


lam reading with interest your fine 
seris on organized crime. We in the 
field of law enforcement are constantly 
combating those who perpetrate such 
crimes. In general, the public is aware 
of the рте suffered by society 
through such activities as narcotics, loan- 
sharking and hijacking. The crimes of 
keteering. bankruptcy, fraud 


losse: 


Theres a lot of good 
between" Winston... 


and should?" 


n tastes good GOOD, like a cigarette should 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 
20 mg, "tar", 14 ng 


and the illegal manipulation and theft 
of securities and credit cards, however, 
often go unnoticed. By alerting your 
readership to these less well-known vio- 
lations of law, you are performing a 
eat service. In addition, there is onc 
other point that comes through in every 
Hammer article that is most important 
to the vocal, interested and informed 
public necessary for the fight against or 
ganized crime: Corrupt public officials 
e indispensable to the survival of the 
кез. Supply our citizens with such 
id you stimulate support 
пе programs. 
Robert B. Murphy. Chief of Police 
San Jose, California 


information a 
for 


been following Playboy's His 
ganized Crime. To me, the 
Hammer's articles are de: 
ringers for the present Administration in 
Washington. 


B. Reece 


Phoenix, Arizona 


READ ALL OVER 

Allow me to commend photographer 
Michael Kornafel and you for your picto- 
on Sacheen Littlefeather, Sacheen 
(vtavnoy, October). But please clear up 
one thing for me: I just read that Miss 
lefeather is not, 
night, an * 
reported that the birth cc 
of Sacheen Litdefeather lists her real 
name as Marie Louise Cruz, whose moth- 
er is listed as white and her father as Fili- 
pino. Is this true? 


David Burnt 
Roanoke, Virginia 
Sacheen did not claim she was an 
Apache princess. She was bom Мане 
Louise Cruz. Her mother was white, her 
father a full-blooded White Mountain 
Apache, and not Filipino. Sacheen has 
changed her name legally and she does, 
in fact, serve as spokesman for the Ameri- 
can Indian Affirmative Image Committee 
and belongs lo the United Вау Arca 
Indian Council. No American Indian 
to date has come forward to challenge 
Sacheen's credentials. 


Your pictorial convinced me that Sa- 
cheen Litilefeather needs the Indian 
movement far more desperately than the 
movement needs her. 

T. E. D. Klein 

New York, New York. 


HIGHER LEARNING 

G. Barry Golson's list of popular col- 
lege courses in College (Yawn) Is 
Tougher than Ever (2-2-2-2) (PLAYtOY, 
September) is as barren and as inaccu- 
rate а representation of today's college 
life as Гус read. Golson pictures academe 
as a hideaway where spoiled kids make 
their four-year stay a “feverish pursuit of 
higher indolence.” While the college 
scene is more relaxed than that of some 


ist, it hasn't reached the level of 
frivolity that Golson attempts to satiri- 
cally describe. 


s R. Zambrano 
tchburg, Massachusetts 
Obviously, it hasn't. 


LOST AND FOUND 

I Lost IL in the Second Turn 
(rtAvmoy, October) is an exciting ac 
count of a NASCAR championship. Writ- 
er “Stroker Ace" put me right behind 
the wheel. 


Richard Kilroy 
Santa Cruz, California 


You've done it again! By publishing 7 
Lost It in the Second Turn, you helped 
at least one person forget the woes of the 
day and added a bright spot of humor 
to his life. Thank you and keep up the 
good work. 


‘Tomi Frankovich 

Shadyside, Ohio 
ce," otherwise known as William 
vely and Bob Otium, was so bricht 
und so humorous thal we've awarded him 
(them) first prize in our annual writing 
awards best-humor category, Another 
first for “Stroker” 


BUNNY POP 
I don't usually inspect popcorn as I cat 
it, but this particular kernel in a batch 1 


popped not long ago caught my atten- 
tion. ! thought you might enjoy seeing it. 
Douglas O. Smith 
San Mateo, California 
Pop! Pop! Hop! 


RAPOPORT REDUX 
"Thank you for Roger Rapoport's Sep- 
tember article, It's Enough to Make You 
Sick. Tm glad that a magazine of your 
reputation has the guts to prick at the 
AMLA” balloon of self-importance. You 
have done our country a real ser 
David J. H. 

Hopkins, Minnesota 


І represent doctors in malpractice liti 
gation and recognize that there is some 
truth in Rapoport's very critical article. 
1 also recognize that generalizations are 
almost always unfair and that to paint all 
doctors and hospitals as incompetent— 
because of the actions of a few—is also 


unfair. Most. doctors appear to be sin- 
cerely interested in the welfare of the pa- 
tient and while a few don't keep up with 
their particular medical specialty, most 
do. But don't expect lawyers to solve the 
problems generated by incompetent, 


pompous or indifferent doctors. As it is, 
we are the only ones who benefit fom 


th 


present system. 
Bill Chanslor, Jr. 
Houston, Texas 


Rapoport’s article showed promise of 
being useful and interesting. but when it 
zeroes in on the hosp re I work— 
Cook County Hospital in Chicago—i 
xeportorial standards are far from accept- 
able. Rapoport is out of focus. He pro- 
vides statements from two quoted sources 
but doesn’t look at the total institution— 
where it's trying to go and how it mi 
ures up. He culls a three-yearold tale 
from Jack Starr the defunct 
Look magazine about fly swatters in our 
operating rooms, significantly overlook- 
ing the current situation: a fully air- 
conditioned array of 15 operating suites 
that have been completely renovated at a 
cost of $5,000,000. 

Some of the things we're up to: 

Reorganizing our emergency room, 
where 800 to 900 patients are seen daily, 
so that 90 percent of all patients arc эссп 
and taken care of within three hours, Our 
next goal is to make that 100 percent in 
two hours—fur better than the private 
sector. 

Establishing the first frozen blood bank 
in the country, assuring an end to agoniz- 
ing shortages and virtually climinating 
the hepatitis hazard. 

Joining ex-Medical Corpsmen with 
our own attending physicians and house 
taff to upgrade health care for the 
amates of the Cook County Jail. 

Inquiries and applications to our t 
ing programs are pouring i 
the rate of last year, because we are trying 
to create the new Kind of health-care sys- 
dat Rapoport himself seems to seek. 
Twish that when he came here he had not 
overlooked. the more important d 
we're undertaking to secure the hu 
goals he wants. 

Quentin D. Young, M.D. 
Director, Department of Me 
Cook County Hospital 
Chicago, Ilinois 


A FAN'S NOTE 
"This is the first letter I've ever written 
to a magazine, but it's really no surprise 
that Гуе picked yours. I simply want to 
let you know that PLaynoy is, by far, 
the most entertaining magazine available 
today. Your articles are so excellent that 
I devote a whole month to reading and 
rereading them. Keep up the good work. 

Louis Kokay 

Ouawa, On 


rio 


WAS THE BRASS MONKEY A WOMAN? 


Further speculations concerning the drink that defeated the Japanese Imperial Secret Service in World War IL 


Bits and pieces of the Brass 
Monkey legend are still surfac- 
ing. As hard to pin down as 
quicksilver as boneless as 
oysters, but as hard to ignore as 
the jolt of brass knuckles. The 
truth? Where does it lie? 

Candidly, we don't 
know. 

Itis rumored that 
early in 1942 the Japan- 
ese Imperial Secret 
Service began a con- 

E Centrated search for an 
agent. Code name: Brass 
Monkey. Affiliation: our side. 

Gossip had itthatatrofficker 
in information, probably Ha Fat, 
the quinine dealer, had put the 
Secret Service onto a drinking 
club in the port of Macao, 

The Japanese began 
around the clock surveillance. 

Heavy Traffic 
The Clubs heaviest trade 


was in a sunshine 
yellow drink It was 
named, like the club 
itself, after a small brass 
figurine perched in a 
niche beside the en- 
trance: The Brass Monkey. 

Soldiers of fortune, 
riftraff, purported 
agents, and double 
agents, ordered the 
Brass Monkey. Smiled, 
were content, and went 
on with their business, 
nefarious and otherwise. 

AClue 

One night an 
Imperial Observer was 
said to have noticed an 
unusual pattern. The 
club entertainer—a 
Eurasian chanteuse of 
notable endowments 
who called herself 
Loyana—sang the same 
song repeatedly. Each 
time upon request. 

Loyana’s Swan Song 

Next night, the Imperial 
Agent allegedly returned with a 
cryptologist from the Code 
Division of the Kempeitei. Could 
he discern a message in 
Loyana's song, “My Love isa Мап 
of Gold"? Was there a code in the 
lyrics? In the changing notes of 
the accompaniment? 

Was the Brass Monkey a 
woman? 


to give a command performance 

in a lonely, fog-wrapped 

warehouse. | 
Perhaps after hours 

of “persuasion” she was 

forced to tell it all. 

In any event, the 

night following the time-of- 

many-singings,Loyan 

disappeared. Not 


long after the club ' 


PerhapsLoyanawas' invited” 


closed. Not the Japanese fileon 
the case, though. Till the end of 
the war the Brass Monkey was 
rumored to be a monkey wrench 
in the plans of the Axis. 
Still A Mystery 

Who then, was the Brass 
Monkey? Legend has it that 
Allied Agents learned his iden- 
tity from the coaster served with 
the Brass Monkey cocktail. When 
they crossed out the words, “No 
Evil then removed all the let- 
ters from “The Brass Monkey” 
which did not appear in "See, 
Hear, Speak," they were left with 
the name: H. E. Rasske. That 
name, though, could have been 
an anagram for E. H. Kessar. 
Or Rhea Kess. A woman. 

Н.Е:з Homage? 

Hearsay has it that every 
few years since the end of WW T, 
a gray-haired gentleman visits 
а nun's cloister in Hong Kong 
across the estuary from Macao. 
Could he be the same man who 
some say once enjoyed a rela- 
tionship with Loyana? The same, 
perhaps, who is identified as 
H. E. Rasske, inventor of the 
Brass Monkey cocktail? 

What's a Brass Monkey? 

Its an absolutely smashing 
drink made froma 
secretcombination of 
liquors.Tasty smooth 
and innocent looking, 
but potent. 

The color of sunshine 
withthe mystery of 
moonlight. 

The Brass Monkey. 
For menand 
women who don't 
just wait for things 

tohappen. 


HEUBLEIN 
COCKTAILS 


HEUBLEIN, 


Tass MONKEY | 


Heubloin Brass Monkey 48 Proof, Mode with Rum, Белона Vodka and Natural Flavors. 61072. Heubleln, Ine, Hartlord, Conr. O6101. 


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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


his is not a Polish joke. Honest. It's 
just that an official tourist brochure 
published by the Warsaw government ad- 
vises visitors: “As for the tripe served you 
at the Metropol Hotel, you will sing its 
idehildren as you lie 


praises to your gr 
on your deathbed.” 


Penaltics for pot busts are becoming 
less severe in some parts of the country, 
but a court in Port Neches, Texas, may 
have come up with the most unusual se 
tence we've heard of—as a story in the 
Beaumont Enterprise suggests: “Gerald 
Lec Klitz, 23, was sentenced to 15 fuxs in 
jail on his guilty plea to possession of 
marijuan 


Chief U.S. District Judge Oliver J- 
Carter has a forthright way of addressing 
defendants. During one slow-moving 
trial, he told a prostitute: “I'd like to get 
this case over so you can get out of here 
and go about your business.” In a later 
trial involving a lesbian, the judge one- 
upped himself by declaring to a stunned 
courtroom: “I know you want me to put 
the finger in the dike for you and I'm not 


going to do it.” 

Most typographical errors are merely 
human mistakes; some, however, are sub- 
lime. The following news story appeared 
in The Atlanta Journal and Constitu- 
tion and we reprint it in full: 


Pacifce Palisjdes, Calcf. (U.P.L)— 

"Don't hurt me, lady,” the armed 
intruder begged a mousewife mold 
ing a statue over hisnmead, just after 
she struck himnwith a lamp. 

With tmose words, according to 
police, the gunman fled from the 
home of Mary Patricia Stephens, 41, 
unsuccessful attdmpt 


ending hi 
tonrob her. 

Mis. Stephens oold officers her ini- 
to martiag arts began when 
fhd returned home yesterday oo find 
a man in und housd. He pointed a 
pistol at hdr and demanded, “Give 
me all your money or I'll kilInxou. 
Ohe woman said she only had $5 
and the bandit said it wasn't enough 


tiation 


and ordered her into the bedroom 
and oold her to rdmove her clothes. 

Shenrefusdd. The bandit ohen be- 
gan tearing at ljmpnand hiono- 
menman on herndressnand Mrsn 
Stev-mens picked upn a nearby the, 
head, according to police. n 

Tme gunman responded by strik 
ing Mis. Stephens on the head with- 
nmis pisool. tmdn shd reached fo 
statue and hio him on the side of 
ime hdad 

Just before he, left, the gunman 
pleaded. “Don’t mkrt me, lady. 

Police said umdy were searching 
for the gunman, described in hisn- 
carly 20 


The newest member of the censorship 
board in Clarkstown, New York. is Marty 
Snyder, a Republican committeeman 


who will assist in reviewing X-rated mov- 
ies and vote on whether they're obscene. 
Snyder does not believe the fact that he 


is blind will make any difference. "Рог- 
nography isn't a case of seeing,” he told 
the press, “it’s a case of fecling." Asked to 


define his artistic criteria, Snyder said 
that while he was no stuffed shirt, he felt 
that movies should return to the old 
days, "when at least a girl had a thing 


across her back. 


Production of honey and beeswax has 
dropped by 50 percent in Bengal, in case 
you were wondering. The reason, says 
India's Ministry of Forests, is that 
tiger hunting has been banned. A re- 


port in the highly respected Australian 


Beekeeper explains: "So far, 29 honey 

collectors have been caten by tigers and 

this has rather discouraged enthusiasm 
ice. 


and dilig 


Profiles of centenarians are standard 
newspaper fare, but one that especially 
gladdened our heart appeared in New 
York's Utica Observer-Dispatch under the 
headline “E's A HUNDRED AND STILL 
HUMPING. 


We can't say precisely why, but some- 
how this news item made us think of 
Linda Lovelace: A rhinoceros at the Los 
Zoo, name of Radha, put her 
ad 


Angel 
head through the bars of her cage 
got stuck. Firemen freed her by coat 
her throat with Vaseline. 


Burning rubber: The Los 
Angeles Times reported, with- 
out further amplification, that 
“the world record is 243.9 
miles per hour sex by — / 
Canada's Gary Beck." 


Evidence of group sex gone amuck 
comes to us by way of nouncement 


in the University of Calgary's Gauntlet; 
the student council had compiled a 


19 


PLAYBOY 


20 


definitive list of the university's student 
groups and clubs, and the title read as 
follows: “Copulation of All Registered 
ties, Clubs and Organizations and 


Current 1973-1974 Executiv 


g what it is 


As Carlos Castaneda tells it, he w 
driving through the Sonora Desert 
with his favorite Mexican sorcerer, 
Don Juan, when he saw a pair of 
headlights gaining on him from be- 
hind. But suddenly they disappeared, 
scaring Castenada and leading Don 
Juan to observe, “Death is always Бе 
hind you; sometimes he drives with his 
headlights out.” We would only add 
that sometimes he is driving not a 
hearse but a Good Humor truck. 

Bronco fan couldn't hear it: A Den- 
ver football fan, despondent over the 
Broncos’ 3310-14 loss to the Chicago 
Bears this season, tried to kill him. 
self, deputies said. He shot himself in 
the head. but the wound was not fatal. 
The man wrote a note before firing 
the gun: “I have been a Broncos fan 
since the Broncos were first organized 
and 1 can't stand their fumbling 
anymore 


Police looked inside а refrigerator 
and arrested a man sought for the 
murders of two women in Chicago. 
When they found bottles and pack- 

es of food in the trash can at the 
Division Sucet apartment of the sus- 
pect’s wife, police opened the refrig- 
crator and found him sitting inside— 
cating olive 

A 30-year-old New York City man 
attempted to drown himself by jump- 
ing into the East River at 23rd Street. 
He was found by the Coast Guard, tei 
hours later, still swimming around 
the river. As they were turning him 
over to the police, he tried to jump 
back in. 

"We human beings, through the his 
tory of the world, have protected our 
continents from cataclysmic carth- 
quakes by murder,” said a Santa 
Cruz defendant. He was accused of 


U.S. Mint to find out what the Govern- 
ment actually pays to manufacture all 
that money whose value has been 
diminishing so precipitously. The answer 
confirms our worst suspicions: As usual 
with Government, everything is back- 
ward. Specifically, the most costly item to 
manufacture is the one that's worth 


ten murders, though his defense con- 
ceded that he killed 13. “Just check 
the records back from the beginning 
of time,” he said. * 1 see 
that during the time of war there are 
no carthquakes.” 


While on the а 2 year-old disc 
jockey in Oregon cued up Sofily as I 
Leave You and then hanged himself 
with a telephone cord as it played. 

Dr. Alice Chase, author of Nutri- 
tion for Healih and several other 
works on proper dietary habits, has 
died in London of malnutrition. 

A black man found hanging by 
noose from a pine tree, with his legs 
tied together and his hands bound be- 
hind his back, was declared a suicide 
hy an all-white jury in Газма, Ar 
zona. The jury reached the verdict 
after three minutes of deliberation. 

A housewife was beaten to death by 
the fins of a washing machine when 
her bra became entangled in the drum. 
Investigation showed that when her 
bra strap caught in the spi 
drum, her head was wapped so that it 
was struck repeatedly by the fins in 
the washer. 

A man Port Elizabeth, South 
Africa, killed himself by drinking 
hydrochloric acid after unsuccessfully 
attempting suicide by shooting him- 
self in the head, slashing his wrists, 
throttling himself with a necktie and 
swallowing am overdose of sleeping 
pills. 
whales landed on a 
remote be: the northern Mexi 
can state of Sonora and died in what 
was believed to be collective suicide. 


не 


Happy New Year, anyway. 


Jeast—the lowly penny. Copper is expen 
sive, after all, and the price has been ri 
ing. The Mint now spends 57 cents to 
make a dollar's worth of pennies. Nickels 
are the second mest expensive (25 cents 
per dollar's worth), then quarters (seven 
and a half cents per dollar), dimes (si 
and a half cents per dollar), silver dollars 
(five and a half cents) and halves (four 
and a pest by far is 
our beleaguered paper currency, which 
costs just nine dollars per 1000 bills 
regardless of denomination. This means 
that even the most expensive of green 
backs—the onedollar bill—is still 63 
times cheaper than one red cent. The 
logical extension here is that the dollar is 
really worth 1/63rd of a cent: or, alterna- 
tively. that the penny is really worth $63. 
Whichever the case, we find it disturbing. 
And since the Government can produce 
larger bills for the same price as singles, 
we now understand why it's so intent on 
spending such vast sums of the taxpayers? 
money. It's more economical that way. 


Presumably in accordance with new 
Federal statutes prohibiting job classi- 
fication by sex, мете witnessing a new 
spiciness in want ads. The Springfield. 
Massachusetts, Union recently ran a list 
g calling for a “cowperson”: “Applicant 
must be proficient in profanity and must 
share bunkhouse with four cowboys who 
seldom bathe.” Not to be outdone, The 
New York Times informed job seekers 
that “a new business department of a 
national company" was looking for a 
ay/Cuy Frida 


A LOOSE TONGUE 
| САМ GET YOU 
INTO TIGHT PLACES 


Who says religion has to be dull? (Sign 
above a North Little Rock, Arkansas, 
church.) 

Much as we respect the intellectual in. 
tegrity of the underground press, the case 
of a New York publication called Rat i 
lustrates what can happen when ideology 
outruns common sense. Rat, you may re- 
call, began as an alternative to the East 
Village Other, which itself began as an 
alternative to The Village Voice, the 
granddaddy of all underground publica- 
tions, started by Norman Mailer and 
others as an alternative to every other 
newspaper in Manhattan. Not too long 
ago, Rat seized by feminist staff 
members. Then it was seized by lesbian 


€ Lorillard 1973 


E» 


King Size 
or Deluxe OOS. 


Micronite filter 
Mild, smooth taste. 
Americas quality cigarette. 
Kent. . 
The Surgeon General Has Determined 
Kings: V mg. “tar,” 1.1 mg. nicotine; That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


100's: 19 то. “tar,” 1.3 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, FTC Report Feb. "73. 


PLAYBOY 


22 


feminist staff members. Then it was scized 
by black lesbian feminist stall members. 
Then it folded. 


In an article on the Hon 
tal scene, the China Mail declared that of 
all the marriages recorded in 1972, “44 per- 


cent were not consummated in church.” 


Kong mari- 


Sound advice from the women’s section 
of the Albuquerque Journal: “Do not 
pee raw mushrooms; this is unnecessary 
work amd a waste of good mushroom 


BOOKS 


ers and music lovers, sports fans 
nd movie fans, photography buffs and 

icma bull—all these and others 
re well served by this season's crop of 
gift book: 
Kling in the artvolume array 
The Rohon Master (Braziller), seventh in 
the illustrious series of facsimiles of il- 


his Book of Hours, done i 
ary Paris, keeps to Braziller's stand- 
rds of selection and reproduction. 
igh compliment ows 
the name of the Rohan Master, but no 
ilerysoer will [ail to recognize the 
ames of the American Masters (Random 
House) whose private lives are subjected 
to scrutiny by critic Brian O'Doherty 
and photographer Hans Namuth. The 
ames—Jackson Pollock, Mark Rothko, 
t Davis, Willem de Kooning. Jo 
seph Cornell, Edward Hopper, Andrew 
Wyeth, Robert Rauschenberg. 
Underground art is brought above 
‘ound iu Erotic Illustrations (Grove), which 
imley culled fom clan- 
rely printed volumes, Other new and 
amply illustrated labors of love include 
itive Erotic Art and Erotic Art of the West, 
edited. respectively, by Philip Rawson 
and Robert Melville, and published by 
Putnam, 

A different sort of art and artist is cele- 
brated in The Art of Walt Disney (Abrams), 
wherein Christopher Finch takes us "from 
Mickey Mouse to the Magic K 
with the help of 763 illustrations, ne. 
alf of them in full color. А lay 
10 à phenomenon of our times. Another. 
Hollywood phenomenon receives his due 
in The Busby Berkeley Book (New York 
Graphic Society), by Tony Thom 
Jim Teny. The g 
lls from Berkeley's films demonstrates 
s knack for combining anatomy and 
geometry. 

The period in which Berkeley worked 
forms the subject for photo-ich Grand 
Musions (McGraw-Hill), by Richard Law- 
ton and Hugo Leckey. Here, in the hey- 
day of Hollywood. are Valentino and 
h, Garbo and Dietrich, Bogart and 
Boyer, amid a cast of hundreds, From 
much the с era comes The Gershwins 


(Adhencum)—letters, lyric, saapbook. 
clippings and photos having to do with 
the talented brothers, rounded up by 
Robert Kimball and Alfred Simon and 
intelligently put together by designer 
Bea Feitler. 

Now that MGM for all practical 
purposes, no longer a movie studio (take 
à bow, Mr. Kerkorian), The Golden Era: The 
MGM Stock Compeny (Arlington House), by 
James Robert Parish and Ronald 1. 
Bowers, is particularly appealing. The 
authors have compiled bios on the 150 
stars and character actors, from June 
Allyson to Robert Young, who worked for 


nated Hollywood and, by extension, the 
movie screens of the world. Lots of pic 
tures, reams of facts—it's a trip. 
To shake off the sense that America 
is synonymous with show business, 
п turn 10 Alistair Cooke's America 
photo and-text. volume based 
on the Anglo American jour- 
nalists well. received TV series 
One section ol 
West (Regnery). ie 


evoked in a remarkable selection ol 
prints made from rare glass wer-place 
negatives, circa 1859-1900. Compiled by 
David R. Phillips, they bring back scenes 
of labor and leisure in such roughsind- 
ready towns as Leavenworth, Kansas: So- 
corro, New Mexico; and Deadwood 
Gulch, South Dakot 

The American Indian 
highly s 
publishing business. Е week goes 
by without some new work appearing. It’s 
distinctly possible that the Indian cause 
may suller from verbal overkill. But Deg 
Soldiers, Bear Men ond Buffalo Women (Pren- 


become a 


tice-Hall), “A Study of the Societies and 
Cults of the Plains Indi worthy 
entry into the Held. illustrator 


"Thomas E. Mails de; 
that inhabited the 
to 1850 and the intr 
evolved to sustain and explain their live: 
The artwork is profuse and fasci 
the text is artless but informative. 

What with the fashion world and the 


moviemakers zeroing in om 
Gatsby, we're undoubtedly. 
gerald flood —books by 
for him. i 


The Great 
n for a Fitz- 
iim, about hi 
n—but one of the mo 
fascinating has got to be the handsome 
facsimile reproduction of F. Scotts Ledger 
(NCR). In that unlikely bookkeeping 
receptacle, Fitzgerald set down a succinct 
synopsis of the first 40 years of hi 
The entries arc toucli 
of-factness: April 1934, “Zeld: 
tion. Clark Gable to lunch." March 
n pawn. Hopkins Hospital. Work go- 
ing badly—the two bad Scottie storics 
& others." 

The Best of Life (Time-Life) 
right 
tion 


‘Oh. 
1" The finest news 
aphers and photo journ: 
ther worked for Life or had the 
show up in its pages. [E you 
lieve it before, this volume should wi 
you over. 

For more high-caliber photography, 
have a look at Alfred Stieglitz (Random 
House). by Dorothy Norman. the first 
jor book on the life and work of 


m 
this pioneer ol the lens. People (Viking) 


able 
aedi, Among his subjects 
hchev, T, S. Eliot 


offers 100 photographs by the esti 
Allred Eise 
Hider and Kl 


chock 
full of color photos, to those good old cars 
and the joys of racing; restoring and just 
relishing them. Action on the slopes is 
the spirited subject of Morten Lund's The 
Skiers World (Random House), which 
ps us, in four colors, from Stowe to 
Kitzbühel, from Zermatt to As 


n'y Champogne 
ive account of the 
rise of the bubbly. To move from the 
sublime to the metely thirst-quenching, 


who cin resist Lawrence Dietz's Sede Pep 
(Simon & Schuster), “the history, advertis- 
ing, are of solt drinks 


in Americar 
Robert 

king) ойе 

nonsi 


"s Cooking fer You (Vi 
the home chef 260 varied, no- 
e recipes, along with a tempt 
color picture of cach dish and much 
ditional expert advice, For after the h: 
quet, there's Carl Ehwa’s The Book of Pipes 
end Tobacco (Random House), which tells 
as much as anybody would care to know 
about the lore and lure of the bowl. 

The Gladiators (P ice- Hall) is the best 
“coffee table” book on pro football we've 
seen. Big, bulging with beautiful color 
photographs, replete with knowledgeable 
descriptions of every phase of the game by 
avariety of authors, it should help sustain 
a fan through the off season. 

Another of the niftier 


big sports 


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PLAYBOY 


24 


For the man who wants to experience all 


Pictures of ihe Great Depression are amongthe 
examples given in the volume on Photo- 
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that comment on cvents and on people. 


How to freeze motion at the cial moment 
is explained in the volume on Special Problems. 


How pictures are taken underwatei 
heavens, through a microscope are shown and 
explained in Photography as A Tool. 


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the creative pleasures of photography 


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TIME-LIFE BOOKS, Dept. 0402 
|| TIMES LIFE BUILDING, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60511 
|. Yes, 1 would like to examine The Camera. Please 

send it to me — together with the Photographer's 
| Handbook “for 10 days" free examination and emer. 
[gy pebstiption to the LIFE Library of Photography. 

H 1 decide to keep The Camera, | will pay $1.95 
| (58.95 in Canada) plus shipping and handling. 1 then 


will receive future volumes in the LIFE Library of 
Photography series, shipped a volume at а time ap- 
proximately every other month. Each is $7.95 ($8.95 


im Canada) plus shipping and handling and comes 
оп a 10-day free examination basis. There is no mini- 
mum number of books that | must buy, and 1 may 
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"(Please Print) 


SR оа 


25 


PLAYBOY 


26 


books is Joe Namath's А Matter of Style 
(Little, Brown). With the help of plenty 
of pictures and sportswriter Bob Oates, 
Jr. Joe reveals how he passes, plots 
апа perplexes the opposition (when he's 
~ hcalthy).TheGreor 
American Baseball 
Cord Flipping, Trad- 
and Bubble- 
gum Book (Little, 
Brown) isa pacan 
by Brendan C. 
| Boyd and Fred 
C. Harris to b: 
men, bumblers 
| and the bubble- 
| gum makers who 
|| spread their im- 

ages across the 
land, Wanna trade two Stan Musials for 
a Mickey Mantle? 

Finally, just for the hell of it, The Har- 
verd Lampoon Centennial Celebration 1876— 
1973 (Little, Brown) offers a feast of 
features, selected by Martin Kaplan, from 
several generations of Cambridge wits, 
including the memorable Lampoon take- 
off on pt Aynoy. Happy reading 


Near the end of the 
campaign, Candice Bergen app 
McGovern press room in Long Beach, 
Califor and announced to the с 
hausted reporters who were hastily phon- 
ng in theirstories: “You all suck.” Well 
it's a better line than anything she's ever 
heen given in a movie, but did the re- 
porters deserve it Timothy Grouse’s 
The Boys on the Bus (Random House) goes 

long way toward answering that ques- 
tion. While the nation’s best political 
journalists scrambled around the country 
dutifully recording McGovern's blunders 
and Nixon's noncampaign. of occasio 

js, soaking up free whiskey, get- 


by on four hours’ sleep а night, 
trying to placate their editors and antici- 
pate their compe stories, Crouse 


covered the press itselE-—covered the cov- 
erage. He is better with personalities 
than with issues probably because the 
reporters themselves are the best cvi 
dence around that Spiro Agnew (R-LP.) 

s ing at the moon when he 
tried to paint the press as a vast conspi 
aded men out to do in Ridi- 
‘The truth is that these men 
worked hard and followed only the stand- 
ards of their profession, not the seductions 
of ideology. They were as hard on McGov- 
ern as they were on Nixon. Maybe harder. 
And that is their job. Some of them 
are likable, humorous men like James 
Naughton, Jules Witcover and Dick 
Stout, who finally irritated Jane Muskie 
so much that she pushed а piece of cake 
imo his face. (A joke, it was later ex- 
plained) Some of these journalists are 
hustling cgotists. Like К. W. “Johnny” 
Apple of The New York Times. And 
some are patrician gentlemen, like David 
Broder of The Washington Post. But all 


of them adhere to professional standards 
and cherish the respect of their peers. 


This alone makes them far more hon- 
orable men than their enemies, the 
p cians who ll scll honor and 


dignity—their very souls—for a few mil- 
lion votcs. 

John Sack is one of our better re- 
porters. His Vietnam book, M, was one 
of the very best to come out of the war, 
perhaps the best. But Sack has slipped 
some—first with his Liculcuant Calley, 
which he co-authored with Vietnam's 
most famous (notorious?) soldicr, and 
now with The Mon-Eating Machine (Farrar, 
Straus & Giroux). Most of Sack's repor 
is still first-rate, but the notion of stri 
ing four magazine articles together, then 
adding a little moral commentary to make 
a book, was a little hasty. Especially when 
that commentary is of the sort that claims 
“We were all William Calley.” One ask: 
“Even the soldiers who refused to commit 
atrocities in My Lai?" On the same sub- 
ject: The Mcn Who Won the Medal of Honor 
(Random House) is a tirade that author 
Len Giovannitti has passed off as a 
novel. His narrator has been awarded the 
Medal of Honor when the only people 
he killed in Vietnam were Americans. 
At the White House ceremony, he goes 
for the Big Fragging. He fails and so does 
this witless book. 


"Fucking grex venalium, he mut 
tered, displaying both aspects of his 
ground—the slums and the university 
halls...“ Well, that's quite a mutter, but 
any chiller addict will promptly identity 
the muiterer. Who but Dr. Jonathan 
Hemlock, the multitalented dude—acad- 
emician, art authority, mountaineer, 
sexual athlete and smil ssassin for 
CH—inyented by monomonickered 
thor Trevanian and turned loose last 
year in The Eiger Sanction, a sleeper 
(though grabbed by the Playboy Book 
Club) that was practically self-propelled 
to bescsellerdom? Now Hemlock's b 
The Loo Sanction (Crown), having split to 
England on a leisurely lecture tour. He 
thought, But hardly has he uttered his 
mutter than he's set up by a comely col- 
Icen, set upon by two goons and hauled 
olf to Wessex (Thomas Hardy's name for 
Dorsetshire), there to meet the vicar, a 
bona fide cleric who doubles as head of 
Loo, England's equivalent of the CII. 
‘The vicar's problem is to retrieve films of 
government bigwigs cavorting in an ex- 
clusive orgy dub called, of course, The 
Cloisters. The films have been sealed i 
side a Marini bronze to be auctioned 
Sotheby's—and whoever buys it will ob- 
viously rule Britannia. So again its 
sanction time for Hemlock. If you've 
read Eiger, you'll know what to expect. If 
not, expect а witty, swift-paced suspense 


extravaganza, with aptly dubbed charac- 
ters such as Amazing Grace, a bl: 
ty who's always nude; Van(essa) Dyke, 
a les ait critic; Maximilian Strange, who 
runs The Cloisters and who combines a 
Dorian Gray complex with the tastes and 
talents of De Sade, Expect some damn 
good writing (belatedly lauded by Gore 
Vidal), with only occasional lapses. Ex- 
pect throwaway gags, sophisticated dia- 
log, show-off erudition—like that grex 
venalium (Latin for “a herd of whores"), 
which was Dr. H's reaction to an 
ulua-Mod mob scene at a London vernis- 
Also expect calculated camp—eg., 
loo is British slang for privy and the out 
fit was so called because the HQ of MLS 
and MI-6 adjoined the men's room. But 
primarily expect the unexpected—jump 
cuts from realism to eroticism to ex 
oticism, and from the gracious to thc 
grisly. ly. expect to be entertained, 
even enthralled, and in Jonathan Hem- 
lock expect to meet the James Bond of 
the Seventies. P. S. Don’t expect another 
sleeper: Crown printed 50,000 copies, 
with an ad budget close to six figures. 
George Plimpton's new book, Mad Ducks 
and Bears (Random House), is a sentimen- 
tal pilgrimage back to the gridiron, 
which he artfully 


of anecdotes, recollection 
and diary excerpts to form a 


world of pro football. It’s a triple head 
er, actually. First, an aborted project for 
a book on line play to be done by Plimp: 
ton with John Gordy and 
Alex “The Mad Duck” Karras, 

men for the Detroit Lions, yields, instead, 
a frightening /funny look at the thoughts 
and feelings of men who live on the line 
of scrimmage. Second, a huge chunk of the 
book consists of the diary Plimpton kept 
while he was training with the Baltimore 
Colts to prepare for four plays he would 
quarterback for a television special. 
The final segment focuses on Plimpton's 


ine- 


.after your winemaster 
„after you've done everything you can to make a fine wine, 
you need one thing more to make it great: time. 


After you've harvested the noblest grapes... 
has worked his magic.. 


Nothing good happens fast. 
== Paul Masson 


мизине цур 


[AR 10% 


PLAYBOY 


journalistic efforts to find out why the 
at Colt team deteriorated so sud- 
son. Like some other books 
ether from leftover notes and 
tapes, plus previously published magazine 
pieces. this one could have been a zero. 
t saves it iy the sometimeshilarious, 
s 1 behavior of its in- 
credible cast of characters; and Plimpton's 
Skill at combining. his puzzled empathy 
gluis into a таты 


but always ent 


In the years since World War Two, 
New York City has become for the apoca 
Іурхе what Loch Nes has been for the 


ouster. Not e » claim 
orc frequent sightings of total disaster 
than New York. In г Ba- 


kersfield, one can proclaim the end of the 
world only so olten before the family has 
him committed, Back East, persons sul 
fering that syndrome are invited to 
contribute to The New York Review of 
Books. Emma Rothschild, a New York 
Review convibutor, has described. with 
ity and force her view of the Ame 
pocilypse (automotive division) 
this, her first book, Peredise tes (R: 
dom House). She is a highly skilled 
writer and an able researcher and her 
book is easily the most readable and com- 
pelling of all the currently fashionable 
antitechnology tracts. Miss Rothschild is 
young, English and a former reporter] 
researcher for The Times of London. 
Her youth and her overseas origins make 
Paradise Lost even more impressive in 
the comprehensive technological detail 
ol its coverage, As described on the jack- 
et, “This book looks at the many prob- 
lems that айс the United States ашо 
business, as well as the auto industry 
throughout the world.” Which is putting 
it mildly. To say that the book “looks at 
problems" suggests ап objec 
© overview of Ames automotive 
which is not the case. Miss 


Cas 


y quote 
prosecuting attorney ge 
penalty. Even when some poor auto 
mogul is quoted in a context that presents 
him as aware of the problems and striv- 
ing to do something about them, the lady 
seems to duck with disapproval. Like 
her fellow technophobes. she 
absolutely no good in her chose 
gets—even when they i 
Like Ralph Nadei 
d one of its products 
the keystone for her text. Interest 
enough, however, she has chose 
ng success, to illustrate her 
ct, the robust Vega prob- 
ably proves the opposite of her intended 
point. Far from being proof of G-M.'s in- 
Ability to cope with the future, it seems 
to demonstrate a capability for flexible 
response to changing times, She de- 
scribes a frantic industry, trying desper- 


s 
ng lor the death 


£ she were a 


case; when, in 


ately to deal with hostile customers, 

hostile labor and hostile governmer 

med only with Henry Ford's worn-out 
facturing technology and Alfred 


g baule 
perhaps hope 


Sloan's 50-year-old. merch: 
plan. Her only solution 
is a better word—lies in her vision of 
alistic reorder 
s that would 
of our tr 
portation resources from the hands of 
the auto biggies and turn it over to . . . 
the people? One is not sure. Perhaps 
c problem with her thesis has to do 
with her vantage point. She is English and 
she nied to uncover the definitive and 
truth about the American automo: 
as seen from New York. Ii is true 
that the automobile. no longer works in 
New York, nor in several of the smaller 
satellite New Yorks seatre nd the 
country. But those 
places, and it would be hard, even unj 
to blame the automobile any more than 
the Democratic Party or pettiloggin: 
legislatures or the builtin but 
able Haws of a capitalist system. The 
tomobile 
Sheridan, Wyomings, 
our New Yorks. Like most antidotes for 
apocalypse. Miss Rothschild's cure for 
the automobile requires Шып everyone in 
the United Stites simply stop living. 
working and playing the way he is and 
start way that would be more 


is- 


ed a 


nothing works in 


ren 


our 
is useless 


acceptable 10 her and to her peers in the 
amtitechnology intelligentsia, This seems 
aharsh price for the nati just to 
humble our auto-indust ablishment, 


Bend Sinister (McGraw-Hill), we are i 
formed from the handsome dust jacket, 
is the novel Vladimir Nabokov 
te Its republication at 
s point in time (И one may borrow а 

The book was 


wh 
massacred in а 


h a particu- 
manner to 
he 


ctors 


and locale have changed, but the old 
theme hasn't. Adam Krug, professor of 
philosophy. is a citizen of that Nabokov 
n Erewhon somewhere between Stalin's 
galloping lunacy and Hitler's bubbling 
insanity. Paduk, a former schoolboy 


chum of the professors (known as the 
Toad in gei 
boss of il 
The 


iler days), has just become 
country im a bloody coup. 
creed is called. Ekwilism, а 
suggests its matter: the redis 
ibution of human consciousness so that 
s more than another, or 


new 


some such nonsense. Krug. whose wile 
has just died after 


unsuccessful oper 
i» bring hounded to endorse the 
new state philosophy. Although riddled 
with grief, the professor hay enough mind 
left not to lend himself to such an 


ation, 


ту event, after his refusal begins the 
appearance of his friends and the sur 
1 agony of polit on. Nabo- 
kov's tale splendidly suited to the 
task of t down the sinister bends 
of olficial pursuit. With his background 
of exile and his passion for wordplay 
xd mirror image, he stylizes, as perl 
no one else cin, the familiar and terrible 
landscape that is to be seen between the 
conscience and the concentration. camp. 
Krug. of course. is destroyed, as any state 
«an destroy an individual if it so wishes 
but in the process of destruction, Nabo- 
kov traces with magical art the equiv 
шепсе of the madness into which Krug 
retreats and the madness [rom which he 
withdrawn. A beloved son is sacri 
ficed to Krug's conscience and the state's 
dumb will. and once again the classic am 
biguity becomes clear: Nothing is worth 
—nothing-—uxd except for the human 

bility to swallow the stupidity and 
ielty of others, mankind would have 
given up long ago. Nabokov is unique in 
many ways, but particularly in the way of 
exploring the hidden corners of terror. 
To quote his later masterpiece Lolita: 
and 


His Picture in the Pepers (Charterhouse). 
by Time-Life film їйї d Schickel. 
is described as “A Speculation on 


Celebrity in America Based on the 
Life of Douglas Fairbank Author 
Schickel's discur 


ogra 


ly 


Fairbanks film and reaches the unsur- 
prising conclusion that we perhaps 
punish our ter raising them too 
high. Ther great deal more of con- 
jeaure and instant social analysis in a 
book that manages to sound simultane- 


ously glib and pontifical, and it is best 
when it sticks to the salient facts about 
Fairbanks himself—what he did, and 
how, and where fabulous success 
went sour. As tl їз first superstar- 
ring stunt man, whose Zorro and Thief 


Musicians, high-fidelity perfectionists, 
music lovers of all sorts, are talking about 
Capitol 2, the world’s best iron-oxide tape. 

Cassette users rave about the frequency 
response (20-22,000 H2), the backcoating 
that makes the cassette jamproof, and the 
new package (Stak-Pak™) that ends 
cassette clutter. 

Everyone's giving the Stak-Pak special 
mention. Probably because it's without 
a doubt the world's ultimate cassette 
storage method. Stak-Paks come with two 
Capitol 2 cassettes, and they slide or snap 
together to form a tiny chest of drawers, 
each with its own two labels. 


©1973 Audio 


Reel-to-reel bugs get excited about 
being able to buy a tape that's as good as. 
the best tape the recording studios 
themselves use. 

And 8-track cartridge people are 
delirious with the Capitol 2 Audiopak* 
High Output/Low Noise cartridge, already 
a standard of the music industry. It's 
even available in a newly engineered 
100-minute playing time. 

Visit your favorite tape store, and try 
the new Capitol 2 tape. So that the next 
time your friends start talking about tape, 
you'll have something significant to add 
to the conversation. 


Capitol 2" 
'Gets the good sounds right. 


Cassettes /Cartidaes/Reel Tape. 
Devices, Inc., a Capitol Industries Co., Glenbrook, Conn. 06906. 


PLAYBOY 


30 


of Bagdad paved the way for swash- 
bucklers such as Errol Flynn (not to 
mention Douglas Fairbanks, Jr., who was 
out of favor for long stretches because the 
egocentric Doug, Sr., as age overtook him, 
didn’t relish a grown son following in 
Dad's flashy footsteps), Fairbanks mar- 
ried America's sweetheart Mary Pickfo 
and played king to his queenly Lite 
Mary at. Pickfair, the celebrated family 
seat that functioned as a kind of Western 
White House back in the heyday of silent 
movies. Doug and М ntertained roy 
alty and rich embers of the 
smart set who had once considered Holly- 
wood. socially speaking, a cut below Dev- 
id. By so doing. the gregarious 

toc 
су a model they would follow for 
encrations to come. Though the Fai 
perfect union dis- 
rupted by scandal and divorce years later, 
their devoted fans never seemed to mind. 
that Doug and Mary had severed ties with 
former mates and their Catholic faith 
in order to marry in the first place. When 
treating Fairbanks as an t who 
wrote, produced and performed the ath- 
leüc spectacles that fixed his name in 


banks-Pickford. 


the Hollywood pantheon, Schickel quotes 
generously from writers and critics of the 
period- 


also from Alistair Cooke's 


0—ihen hastens back to his 
bout fickle fame. touching 
upon everything from Shirley N 
ne's politics and Marshall Мела 
oracular pronouncements to the assassi- 
ation of John Kennedy. He scems, at 
times, to return reluctantly to the rou- 
tine business of biography. as if Fai 
ks were merely a big name chosen for 
ай—їһе comeon for a much morc 
serious but less appealing book that 
kel hasnt quite found time to write. 
What is needed to bring the banking 
try to lile is an insider's confes 
written with great style and wit. Unfor- 
ely. it is well known that bankers 
ig the world’s least witty people 
style in banks is frowned upon. 
d, we are invited to settle tor 
). а compre- 
ble, diatribe 
outsider, Christopher Elias. а jour- 

ers 
ny years. Many of his arguments— 
inst credit cards, а 
pendence of the Fed, 
шайы the “usuri 
terest charg 
and, in some cases, 
is does a credi 
the history of banking in this country 
through one conflict of interest to 


So, inste: 
The Dollor Barone (Macmill 
hensible, if less than delec 


by 


nalis who has been following ban 
for 


inded. 


ith the so 
good. How was it that the Morgan Gu 


anty and Trust Company sold. 391,575 


Central stock. before the 
ignificance of that 
cial difficulties w 
that the Cleveland. Trust Compa 
accumulated for its trust accounts. 
cent of all the outstanding stock in—the 
Cleveland Trust Company? How did 
Chase Manhattan work hand and glove 
with Gulf & Western as that conglome 
ate acquired one company after another? 
The general public 


the stock market 
about the "real" financial power in this 
—the banks. The Dollar Barons 
bad place to start to learn more. 
The Gift (Random House) is Pete Ham 
ill's short novel about а young sailor who 
returns to his family for Ch 
the Korean War. The setting is 
Brooklyn and the people are poor Irish, 
and the temptations for weepy sei 
lity are great. But Hamill plays the 
whole thing straight and the book is a 
1 gem; not perfect but real 
written with obvious feeling and hon: 
The only thing is—S4.95 seems a little 
steep for 83 pag 


countr 
is not 


RECORDINGS 


Despite the gimmicks and the gewgaws 
that pop up at Christmastime as just the 
ift you've been looking for, multiple- 
LP albums still rate five stars for yule 
giving—or getting If your Christmas 
bonus runneth over, you might feel like 
ing on Philips’ fouralbum. 16-LP 
ging of Richard Wagner's “Ring” 
cycle recorded at Bayreuth during the 
1966 and 1967 seasons. The conductor is 
Karl Böhm: some of the principal singers 
re B Nilsson, Kurt Böhme and 
and the overall cffect 
of total immersion in Das Rheingold, Die 
Walküre, Siegfried and Gétterdémmerung is 
nning. So is the price—S104.70—but 
isumas comes but once а year. Anoth- 
jor project has been completed just 


a time for the festive season, RCA is 
offering almost everything pianist Sergei 
Radimaninoff recorded. The Complete 


Rachmaninoff amounts to a fivealbum, 15- 


LP collection, covers a 23year span— 
from 1919 to 1912—and includes a large 
body of his own work. In short, a collec- 
хог dream. Also available from the same 
company is the four-LP album The Tenor 
of the Century: Caruso. It includes a number. 
of selections not previously put out 
commercially 

On a more modest but impres- 
sive nevertheless, is Gregorian Chant (Co 
lumbia), performed by students of thc 
Schola Cantorum of Amsterdam 
ducted by Міш yan Gerven. TI 
fantastic all the way through this three- 
LP album and the voices and music arc— 
well—heavenly. Although volume two of 
The Ат of Igor Кірвіз, harpsichord and 
c of England, Germany 
actually a repackaging 
of LPs that had previously been offered 
singly on the Epic and Odyssey labels, 
the new Columbia album is a worthwhile 
convenience and makes a handsome gilt, 
Then there's Angel's album of music for 
Prokofiev's ballet Romeo ond Juliet, per- 
formed by the London Symphony Orches 
wa under André Previn—thrce LPs ol 

tic sound. 

E of Romeo ond Juliet, Capitol 
has issued the complete sound tack from 
the Franco Zefhrelli film. It holds up 
very well on the turntable, which may be 
something of a tribute to Zeffirelli, but 
the real kudos obviously belong to good 
old Will Shakespeare. They don't write 
"em like that anymor i 
ith words. 


everyone 
who is even slightly imo humor ca 
vouchsale. Caught in the Act (Poppy) cap. 
tures Gregory's farewell nightclub. pci 
formance (he'll be limiting himself to 
campus appearances) and by the time 
he works his way through the two LP: 
there's hardly a sacred cow-—political 
or sođial—that hasn't been butchered. 
Farewell and h 

Old wine in new boules seems to be 
the order of the day in the jazz/pop/rock 
fells. Atlantic, long one of the most 
prestigious names in those arcas, has re- 
constituted the oll Commodore label 
nto five twin-LP offerings under the 
umbrella The Commodore Years. They in- 
dude: wo albums featuring the tenor 
sax (one with Coleman Hawkins and 
Frank Wess, the other with Chu Berry, 
Ben Webster and Lester Young): one 
ng Jelly Roll Morton: a fourth on 
the famous Town Hall ‘oncert of 
1045. spotli such greats as Red 
Norvo, Gene hrupa, Teddy Wilson, Don 
Буаз. Charlie Ventura and Stuff Smith 
filth album devoted to the wares of 
Condon 


Eddie 


LP reprises of its own to celebrate 
ter century in the record biz: The Jaze 
Years (with such luminaries as Monk, 
Mann, Mingus, McGann and the MJQ. 
Marvelous!) and The Soul Years (from 


THE GREAT HOLIDAY PARTY SECRET. 


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PLAYBOY 


32 


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PLAYBOY 


3 


LaVern Baker to Betty Wright, with 
Brook Benton, Ray Charles, Areth 
nklin, Wilson Pickett and many others 
n). Those age. 

field 
Ibum offer- 
п die 
sound tracks from Singin’ in the Rain and 
Easter Porode, The Bond Wegon and Kiss Me 
Kote, Seven Brides for Seven Brothers arid Rose 
Morie, and Till the Clouds Roll By and Three 
Little Words. Pass the popcorn. Jazz bulls 
should dig Verve’s six-volume, single 
stt ol The Newport Years, recordings made 
ak over and the Jazz 
be moved ло the Big 
such stellar attrac 
d and Billie Holi 
ad Jimmy Rushing, 
Teddy Wilson 
Mulligan, Oscar. Peterson. and С 
Hawkins. Halcyon divs, Copitol's Christ 
t to rockuiks is a slipcased presen. 
of three albums that well worth 
: Seiler In. the Steve Miller Band. 
Music from Big Pink lv. The Band and Quick- 
silver Messenger Service. Vi l- 


before the erctins t 


\pple 
tions 


may gi 
Tation 


pressive ant; 


Nostalgia of another sort. mav be 
indulged im by picking up on MCAS 
sound mack from American Groti H 


the Beach 
Mauer theyre 
bete Midler and 

would do well to plu 
Andrews Sisters (MCN). 
elforts of Pa 


iovs. Buddy Holly, the 
II on tap. Followers of 
the Pointer Sisters 
inito The Best of the 
The close-harmony 
Masene and LaVerne 
hold up surprisingly well. Thirty years 
1 the likes ol Rum and Coca Cola. 
Beat Me Daddy, Fight to the Bar. Rhum- 
boogie and Hold Tight have lost little 
of their luster. 


Stevie We 
a beautiful fusion of the lyric and 
dactic, telling us 


ders Innervisions (Tamla) is 


view thats 
cally op- 
con 
stant search 
lor the Higher 
Ground, but tl 


full 
(Jesus Children of America) and the 
starkly rendered poison of the city (Living 


dope (Too High), lies 


of snares: 


for the City). Wonder seems to s 
all people delude themselves but have to 
be willing to pay their dues and esi 
tentially accept the present. "Today's 


yesterday. / And all thi 

ing” is the way he puts it in Visions, the 
key tune of the album—pr 

ous 


reggae, even 
nod to Johns (All in Love ls 
Гау. it’s all Stevie, unmistakably. 
He plays most of s throug! 
overdubbing, and there isn't a phony note 
anywhere. М had it that. after 
August car. crash, Wonder wouldn't. be 
playing concerts for several mouths. We 


his 


wish him well: with an album like this, 
he shows he hay a lot of sength——musical 
d emotional fall back on 


Hd is probably full of kient 
these who thre 


The w 
Zappaphil gh one pass 
of Pue or another have never been made 
аге of Frank Zappa's sircon-cncrusted 
groove of rancid madness. For these 
henighted Tolk. the place to мап is not 
with ан abortive um opus such as 
20) Motels but with Overnite Sensation 
(DiscReet). a happy return to the insane 
preoccupations of yesteryear. like rai 
der nd fucking. The latier al 
п the most. bizarre circum- 
es. as it does in Camarillo Brillo. а 
ching encounter with а Ма, 
whe breeds dwark. throws a 
and has a “fuming incense stencher 
“She snipped / Her rancid poncho | 
м1» 
jt rill we were un-concho / An 


foss 


wayy occurs 


wi 


out naked by the door / We did 


was nse 
Dinah-Moe Humm 
ps the hi 


less any more. 
Dirty Lowe а 


lighis in 


The playing of 1 
ways 1 
carly 
newest efori, und 
production, Valley Hi (| 
rock fr 
lesly negot 
Shady Lies: d 
Jackson Brown 
ed by fine 
work: 


en tasteful 
1 Convention 
Mich 
ект 


days 1e 
1 Nesmith’s 
This is fotk 
jew, all law 
the country charm of 
descending chords of 
s These Days, punctu- 

ic and steel g 


cized but nonetheless successful. Th 
rich albumin sound, productic 
nical skill and taste. 

Moria Muldaur (Reprise)—she of the 
fine shape and the slinky, crystalline 
vaice—has come out of the Woodstock. 
woodwork to make a magnificent album, 
her first solo album under her own name. 
Maria has moved way from the 
days of Jim Kweskin's Jug Band, and she 
has brought with her a roster of accom- 


a loi 


ying musicians 
ic slie sings: Richard 
Keith, Mac Rebennack, Ry С 
Ethridge. and more. The tuncs tend te 
г: s: the raunchy, honky 
stu (eg. Vaudeville 
azzish pop. such as Midnight at 


Dixie 


the Oasis, ıt song given great pro 
duction by Lemy Waronker and Joe 
Boyd and a beautifully insinuating vocal 
by Maria: and two umes—Kate McGar 


rigle’s The Work Song and Wendy Wald 
man's Mad Май Me iat are beyond. 
categorizing. The late Joni Mitchell 
xd of song but w rc depth to the 
ries. and Maria seems 10 infuse every 
ıt of herself into this lovely and power- 
I hardly be called 
debut album, since Maria’s been on 
for ten years or so, but it’s а da 
g display of her Far-ranging. sophisti 
dl clon 


Mi 


it from 


you might not have k 


"wn 


unsuspecting 
In Goats Heed Soup (Rolling Stones), 
maybe the best album the Stones lave 
ever done Mick cavorts as everything 
from the Devil's partner (Dancing with 
Mr. D) to outra 


he works in a Van Mori 
shilts ıo a poignant, 
d about lost love 
Angie) im the frenetic do 
ings of the superstars and their chicks, 
the star-fuckers (Stay Stay). Jagger carries 
out this prog: 
because he is 
on 


betwe 
Storal м 
Y register in a ba 


оп 


w lers os й 


nd —still and forever—that 
ng musically without 
The others in the group 
ively unsung sup 
porters of the J stique, but Keith 
Richard and Nicky Hopkins 
lure charge of much of the 
produced here The 
old а occurs in the paced, flowing 
and powerlul Can You Hear the Music. 
© some fiue bass lines get clear of the 
ensemble blast at rock-n-roll 
umber, Silver Train. IVs good to know 
up in the Mr 
he assumed for 
he never seemed 


ive style of ca 


10 care. 


abso- 
ic thats 


a city where spiritu- 
ous beverages are regarded with suspicion, 
if not downright hostility, seems an un 
likely place to look for fine food. Never- 
af the be: 
ples at thi 


theless, you'll find som 
food this side of N 


Ristorante 
della Fontana, a converted. church 


South Fourth East in Salt Lake C 
stained glass windows are still i 


86 Proof Blended Scotch Whisky © 1973 Paddington Corp., N.Y. 


One of the rare pleasures of Christmas. 


PLAYBOY 


36 


seat some of the diners and the pulpit 
decorates the lobby. Where the baptismal 
font once stood, however, there's now a 
ceiling-high fountain: the choir loft has 
become a waiting room and bar (bring- 
your-own, as defined by Utah law), and 
the hushed reverence of the faithful has 
way to an atmosphere of relaxed 
derie, Everyone is welcome, and 
guests include well-dressed familics cn- 
Joying an evening out, high school kids 
entertaining their dates i 


nd, in the win- 
ter months, a substantial number of cas- 
ually clad and s 


tanned skiers in from 
the several major slopes that lie within 
n casy half hour’s drive. (The surround- 
ing Wasatch Mountains are touted as the 
deep-powder capital of the world) Be- 
yond the charm and сопу the 
Fontana’s reputation is based on the 
manner in which excellent service is com- 
bined with superb cuisine. The emphasis 


is oF ng as а total experience. If a 
sign of good service is being barely aware 
that you're being waited on, having needs 
met almost before they've become con- 
scious, then the Fontana's service is near 
perfect. The pace is leisurely, calculated 
to enhance the food and to allow you to 
savor cadi course before the next is 
served. (You can order à la carte, but do 
yourself a favor—don't.) The first course 
is the thickest. heartiest Minestrone we've 
sted, crammed full of vegetables. 


ever 


Resist the temptation to fill up on it, be- 
cause there's fresh melon соз fol- 
lowed by a crisp Heart of Romaine Salad 


-bleu cheese 
t's great), a pasta 
course (your choice of ravioli, spaghetti 
or spinach noodles) and Italian ice to 
clear the palate. Up to this point, every- 
thing has been prepared with such loving 
care and attention to detail that it's hard 
to believe the entree can measure up. It 
does. The Parmiggiana al Forno is su 
perb—tender slices of veal (when avail- 
tble—beef when it isn't) cooked in a 
lightly spiced sauce of parmesan and 
mushrooms with a taste subtler than any 
Italian recipe we've tried. Merluzzo al 
Forno in Casseruola is а baked casserole 
of halibut with mushrooms in a cream 
sauce that makes you wonder why halibut 
has never tasted so good. If you like chid 
en livers, the Fegato di Pollo con Funghi 


(mushroon: 


ill turn you on. Chicken? 
Try the chicken breast, stuffed with de 
ately scasoned dressing and served with 
supreme sauce, or the Cacciatora, both ex- 
cellent. There are over a dozen entrees 


from which to choose and all, including 
such presumably pedestrian dishes as 
spagheui, га and lasagna, are pre- 

and creativity. As if all 


this weren't enough, there's still coffee 
and dessert: а basket loaded with fresh 
fruit and cheese. And one more plea 
surprise: the size of the check. The din- 
ll seven courses—will set you 
k only $3.50 to $7.25 (for the New 
aches 
include 


York strip steak). Three-conrse 1 
53.60 


from $1.95 то and 


run 


salad or It A word of 
ag is in ord those who feel 
that no meal is complete without wine or 
cocktails. Utah's liquor Taws. as we've 

nplied, are, well, eccentric. Alcoholic 
ges can be sold only by the bottle 
е liquor stores. Fortunately. many 
cating establishments just happen to have 
such a store on the premises—a closet or 


some other converted space stocked with 
wines and/or drinksize minibottles of 
hard liquor. The Fon! 


"s store has an 
adequate selection of wines. mostly do- 
mest 4 liquor. If you want 
mixed drinks. you'll have to take your 
own bottle; you're also welcome to take 
your own wine. Setups and mixes are 
available at а nominal charge, as is wine 
service. The Fontana is always crowded, 
so reservations are strongly recommend- 
ed (801-328-4243). Even so, you'll prob- 
ably wait a bit before being seated; but 
that’s to be expected in an establishment 
that refuses to hurry its guests. The Fo 
tana is open Monday through Thursday 
from 11:30 a.m. to 10 rar., Friday and 
Saturday until 11 р.м. or later. American 
Express, BankAmericard and Master 
Charge are accepted. 


„ but no ha 


MOVIES 


Among directors of action drama, Hol- 
Iywood veteran Don Siegel can claim 
credit for such movies as Dirty Harry 
and The Beguited, and he also helped 

unch the с: m Peckinpah. 
Siegel's 29th (йш, Charley Varrick, is a virt 
ally flawless work of its kind—tough, un- 
sentimental, fast-moving enter 
played to the hilt. If anyone 

ovie world still cares, it is also covertly 


eer of 


Mr. Right i 
character, a stunt flier turned bank rob- 


this instance is the title 


ber who knocks over а bank in a whistle- 
stop Western town and learns too late 
that he and his accomplices have un 
knowingly grabbed a huge stash of Mafia 
gambling money in transit from Las 


Vegas. When a Mafia killer (deftly 
played by Joe Don Baker, a movie mean- 
ic worthy of the name) comes after them, 
Varrick frames his friends, tricks his 
s and presumably wins the айтай 
ion of every moviegoer who has ever 
secretly yearned to get away with grand 
larceny and murder. If anyone but 
Walter Matthau were cast in the part, it 
would be clear enough that Charley 
ick is an utter son of a bitch, but M. 
thau plays him with such easygoing 
Teddy-bear charm that it becomes almost 
cme when Charley says goodbye to his 
dead wife (shot during the robbery), with 
time out for a tender kiss as he sprin- 
Kles gasoline over her stillwarm body 
and sends her up in smoke in their geta- 
way car. Felicia Farr (Mrs. Jack Lemmon 
ate life), Sheree North and Andy 
n lend effective support in a 
piece that smacks of first-rate profession- 
lism in all departments. W! спе 
does may be of questionable value in the 
long haul, but there's no denying his skill 
at projecting Charley Varvick with a cer- 
tain malevolent force. 
d- and fourth-generation 
American moviegoers whose great 
parents or great-greacgrandparents came 
over from the old country 
includes а large majority of us—should 
find The New Land an altogether admirable 
sequel to Jan Troell’s The Emigrants. As 
co-scenarist, director, photographer and 
editor of his films, Troel exhibits the 
same flawless taste and quiet compassion 
toward the family of Swedish emigrants 
(again led superbly by Liv Ullmann, Max 
von Sydow and Eddie Axberg) who were 


‘ar 


Second-, thi 


last seen on the verge of settling down in 
Minnesota. During the latter part of the 
19th Century, they endure the hardships 
of hunger, sickness, childbirth, gold fever, 
untimely death prising—all 
recounted in simple human terms with 
litle emphasis on dramatic fireworks. 
‘The touching epilog. in fact. is merely a 
у portrait mailed back to 
Sweden circa 1890 with a message from a 
ites pointedly, “Your 
brother's children have forgotten Swed- 

р s. conditioned by 
of shock, may find 
Troells work slow in tempo, yet New 


nd à Sioux 


Would he walk 
a mile for me? 


The Surgeon General Has Determined 
rette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


1973 R. J. Raynolds Tobacco Company, Winston-Salem, N. С. 


25 mf. tal, 16 mg. nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report FEB.73. 


Brylcreem tells you 
how to have short hair 


in 1974. 


Short is still theopposite of 

long. But super-clipped sides 
are out. Your hair should be 
about the same length all over. 
Say 1’ to 1-1/2; depending on 
texture. If your side hairs are 
growing to this length a little 
Brylcreem Hairdressing will 
groom them so they dont look 
fuzzy and unruly. 


How short уси top hair should 
be depends on how curly it is: if 
your hair is straight, it should be 
left slightly longer so it lies 
smoothly in place; if your 
hair is really curly, it should 
be cut slightly shorter so it 
forms a little bulk. 
Conditioning with 
Brylcreem Hairdressing 
gives your hair a healthy- 
looking bounce no matter 
what lengthit is. 

No matter how short your hair is 
in 1974, it should cover your eartops by 
about an inch. Dont tuck your hair behind your ears; it just. 
makes them stick out. Brylcreem Hairdressing will train your hair 
to cover your eartops neatly. 


There is no excuse for short sideburns. They should stop about 
1/2" above the bottoms of your ears. 


And 
how to have long hair 


Longer hair today is layered е 
hair; cut so your hair is about 4" In 9 
long on the top and sides, and 6” 
long in back. ( Ihe Apache look 
is a thing of the past.) Keep your 
newly styled hair in place all 
day with Power Hold Dry 
Spray, the long-lasting 
hairspray by Brylcreem. A 
little spritz will do ya! 

If your long hair is getting 
thin ontop, cut it shorter; it 
will bulk up and look 
thicker. If youre training 
hair over a thin place, Power 
Hold Dry Spray is your best 
friend for holding it where 
you want it all day. 

First you make a definite 
part in layered hair this 
length. Then you comb it from 
the whorl at the crown of your 
head. Groom top hair forward, 
side hair and back hair directly 
down. 

Frequent shampooing 
adds to the liveliness of 
your hair. Brylcreem 
Once-A-Day Shampoois 
formulated to use everyday. 
Its pHis close to that of your 
scalp soit wont disturb your 
natural chemistry. 

Sideburns that extend beyond the 
bottom of the earlobe are too long for 
1974. Sorry. Sideburns are closer to your 
head this year, too. Trim them parallel to 
the floor, at the base of your ear, and 
keep them that way every day when you 
shave. 

Whether you decide on long hair, short ] 
hair, or even in-between hair in 1974, 
weve got a product that will help you. 


Th 
Brylcreem 
group. 


Меме come a long way 
since“a little dab will do ya^ 


PLAYBOY 


40 


Land and its companion piece are defi 
tive films—both idealistic and enligh 
ened and mercifully free of the usual 
flag-waving frontier corn. 


Two of the seven deadly sins—namely, 
gluttony and lust—are explored ad nau- 
Seam in The Grande Bouffe (The Big Feast), 
ably the most controversial major 
film since Last Tango in Paris. In fact, 
Italian director Marco Ferreri and a cou- 
ple of outraged patrons came to blows 
over BoufJe at the 1073 Cannes Film Fes- 
tival, while festival judge Ingrid Ber 
man volubly deplored having to sit 
through such offensive material. Despite 
the brouhaha, Ferreri’s farout comedy 
won an International Critics Prize—and 
deserved it, Vulgar but brilliant, crude 
but pointedly sardonic, this outrageous 
no-holesbarred satire costars Marcello 
Mastroianni, Michel Piccoli, Philippe 
Noiret and Ugo Tognazzi as four affluent 
gentlemen—respectively, an airline pilot, 
a TV producer, a judge and а chef—who 
repair to an elegant mansion to commit 
suicide by overfeeding themselves. The 
idea of fornicating to death as well comes 
as an afterthought, and the quartet is 
etted thereto by three hookers and a 
plump schoolteacher (the latter marvel- 
ously played by Andrea Ferreol) who 
evidently embodies some eternal female 
principle—since she ultimately beats her 


gluttonous male hosts at their own game. 
A film maker with avowed leftist lcan- 
ings, Ferreri leaves little doubt that what 
he has in mind in Grande Bouffe is а 
symbolic celebration of the end of the 
bourgcoisie—a hedonistic consumer soci- 
ety glutting itself to the point of extinc- 
tion. He tops his statement with a 
climactic image of raw meat and sides of 
beef hung over shrubs and trees outside 
the house, largely ignored by a pack of 
dogs—creatures too sensible to cat when 


they're not hungry—though by this time 
most of the principals have succumbed to 


hed 
belching, farting, Fuckin 
are so frequent that it sounds like а con- 


their voluptuous rites in the best possible 

ste, even with flourishes of real refine 
ıt. Perhaps the most startling moment 
h Tognazzi, near death 


m 
is a scene in wh 
but ready to climax, lics stretched on a 


kitchen table for an 
sendoff, simul 
soufllé and Though 
gocs too far—or farther than necessary 
for the film's avowed purpose—he is a 
fierce, uncompromising satirist who sel- 
dom loses sight of his goal. Like it or 
loathe it, Grande Bouffe delivers a mag- 
num of cultural shock. Beiter stay home if 
such dark and heady visions repulse yo 


Jean-Paul Belmo 


lo is back and oozing 
star quality from every pore in The In- 
feritor. “On planes or trains, I like to 
make love to a woman T don't know,” 
murmurs Belmondo, coolly eying Carla 
Gravina in his role as а potent. роже 


hungry, dashing and filthy-rich heir 
to $150,000,000. Though writer-director 
Philippe Labro (whose last fi sa tidy 


thriller called Without Apparent Motive) 
exploits Belmondo's superstud image 
even at the risk of cheapening his script, 
The Tuhey itor is а provocative tale—load- 
ed with fast action, sleek women and a 
few fine true touches about life inside the 
entourage of a reformed jetset swinger 
who begins to turn serious when he dis- 
covers that an act of sabotage caused h 

father's plane to crash 

chief of a huge press.and 
glomerate. Belmondo as young Bart Cor- 
dell becomes almost a Kennedylike figure, 
meeting assassination attempts and learn- 
g to his dismay that the Italian girl 


whom he rebelliously married—and who 
bore him a son—may be the pawn in a 
ruthless Mafia takeover engi 
Labro* 


ed by her 
tempt to mix big- 
ns and the intrigues of 
an international crime syndicate with 
spills, thrills and sex looks strained now 
and then, But when the plot slackens, 
atching Belmondo operate proi 


father. 


board. 

The art direction, camerawork and 
sheer gambler's instinct expended on the 
film version of Joncthan Livingston Seagull 
dicit a whistle of admiration. if not 
undiluted praise. Producer-director Hall 
Bartlett hi ed a movie chock full of 
the prettiest pictures you ever saw of blue 
skies, crashing surf, mountains, sunsets 
and rly the wild and 
trained gulls zooming in as doubles for 


the title character (whose voice is supplied 
by actor James Franciscus) and his winged 
disciples. It's all unabashedly inspiration- 
al and faintly banal, thus locked in close 
aesthetic kinship with Richard Bach's 
flyaway best seller about а bird addicted 
to freedom, selfexpression, 

speed and somewhat met 
al musings. If one 
nts to take the skep- 
tical rather than 
the bird’s-eve 
view for a 
moment, 


Jonathan is doggedly middlebrow—orni- 
thology’s answer to Lost Horizon and 
Love Story, with a creamy musical score 
composed and performed on the sound 
track by Neil Diamond. Incurable dream- 
ers aged seven to 70 are apt to find it 
enchanting, all the same, and why not? In 
an age of cynicism and moral slippage, a 
languid little hymn to positive thinking 
can justly lay claim to equal time. 

Supreme Court or no Supreme Court, 
porno movies are still with us, some of 
them looking as uninhibited as ever. The 
latest from San ncisco’s Mitchell 
Brothers (creators of Behind the 
Door) is Resurrection of Eve, again sta 
ring blonde Marilyn Chambers—the girl 
on the Ivory Snow box—as a scrumptious 
young creature whose discjockey hus 
band (Matthew Armon) introduces her 
to orgies. Turns ош she likes them a lot 
better than he does. Eve suffers from 
sloppy sound and camera- 
‚ plus all the other ills that 

ks are heir to, yet beats most exi 
competition as both sex and cinema 
mely women's lib angle also helps 
tle. And Marilyn is а born wi 
Grace Kelly of hard-core, sizz 
sex appeal when she simply jumps up to 
dance. 


Green 


flesh 


the core of Mistress Pomelo, ап 
made tribute t0 Tom Jones, 
based on a creaky classic novel written 


amuel Richardsor 


some years earlier by 
Adapter producer-director Jim O'G 
nolly has Ann Michelle as the luscious 
virgin at bay in the household of his lord- 
Mistress. Pamela 
cns and maid- 
with such asides as "Lust. 
could they have put out their 


desire 
talon daws and grip 
which the reply is, 
mo conscience 


quentia nally saggi 
the burden of virtue too long pres 
aand for 
sts stars 


Perhaps to satisfy the de 
wholesome f: fare, The Opt 
Peter Sellers as а Chaplinesque old 
bum who sings on street corners in Picca- 
dilly, his mangy cur alongside him, and 
charms the bejesus out of two poor tyk 
from the Battersea slums. Lionel (Olives!) 
Bart contributed words and music for this 

Anglish exercise in schmaliz—brim full of 
kids, dogs, crotchets and corn. Pessimism 
is apt to overwhelm optimism long before 
The End. 


A Brooklyn squ: amed George 
feeling buried alive in his father’s print 
ing shop, is the hero of Hurry Up, or I'll 
Be 30, an amiable and quirky comedy by 
81-year-old New York film maker Joseph 
oby. John Lefkowitz as George and 
Linda DeCoff as Jackie—the off off 
Broadway actress who gives him just a 
glimpse of the wide world beyond the 
Brooklyn Br dd warmth, color and 
counterpoint to writer-producer-director 
Jacoby's Martylike portrait of a schnook. 


e 


Three meddlesome businessmen set 
out to find suitable husbands for a dead 
friend's widow and her comely daughter, 
and make a wonderful mess of things. 
That modest plot is all you need to 
know of Lote Autumn, another masterful 
human comedy made in 1960 by Japan's 
Yasujiro (Tokyo Story) Ozu, whose work 
was virtually unknown in the West until 
after his death. For the uninitiated, an 
Ozu film may seem as slow-paced and 
special, at first glance, as а Japanese tea 
ceremony. But have ра It’s people 
who tend to compl life 
simple,” is Ozu's timeless message, ex- 
pressed here, a , with unfailing hu 
mor and transcendent poetic truth. 


eli 


TELEVISION 


Nostalgia is the key to some quality 
Glms-for-TV programing on ABC. Jane 
Fonda is scheduled to adorn the network 
on December 23 in Henrik Ibsen's classic 
of liberated womanhood, A Doll's House, 
directed by Joseph Losey. It w: 
in its American premiere las 


We put more into it, so you 
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Our UDC-46 is exactly as long as the average Lp. No 
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PLAYBOY 


42 


the New York Film Festival. A rival 
movie version starting Claire Bloom as 
plucky Nora got into theaters 
fast, and thus helped television sidetrack 
Jane onto the home screen—all to Ше 
good, since Fonda's performance has a 
decided edge in femini 

contemporary 

Nora from caged canary to free soul was 
never stated more cogently. 

Another glint of pure gold in ABC's 
псыр of films for television is pro- 
vided by Katharine Hepburn in a new 
production of The Glass Menogerie, the 
luminous memory pliy by Tennessee 
Williams, first telecast on December 16 
but slated for a rerun on January 20. 
Under producer David Susskind 
rector Anthony Harvey 
through the film ver 


m of The Lion in 
Winter—Miss Hepbum delivers a per- 


formance as personalized as a monogram. 
In the role of Amanda Wingfield. a Deep 
South supermom who wants only the 
best for her children, she expresses a New 
Englandy indomitability that's far stern- 
г castles in the 
air still spoken of in hushed voices by 
theater bulls who saw the original 1945 
production starring the late great Lau- 
rette Taylor, No imitator, Miss Hepburn 
is inimitable. She also enjoys the advan- 
tages of fluid camerawork by England's 
Billy Williams (who filmed Women in 
Love) amd a first-class supporting cast 
headed by Sam Waterston, Joanna Miles 
and Michael Moriarty. Though admi- 
rable one and all, Moriarty (tlie movie 
newcomer currently making а noise in 
Bang the Drum Slowly) plays Menagcric's 
Gentleman Galler better than any prede 
cessor, as if the part had been written for 
n just yesterday. 


er stuff than the роѕѕапи 


ABC's fashiest showpiece, however, 
will be F. Scott Fitzgerald and "The Last of the 
Belles,” a two-hour blend of pop biography 
and vintage Fitzgerald drama slated for 
January 7. While Richard 
and Blythe Danner, as Seott 
and Zelda, are the nominal stars of the 
opus, they are of secondary importance 
to the play-within-a-play offered by the 
Emmy award-winning team of writer 
nes Costig: nd director George 
Schaefer. Costigan picks up the unhappy 
couple at а captain's gala aboard ship in 
1928, as they return from a European 
voyage characterized by “booze and gen- 
eral unpleasantness.” Costigan has Cham- 
be g ship stewards with such 
nes à gerald . 


If there is any valid point to these me- 
ndering scenes of marital unrest, it 
seems to be to d the folks out in 
televisionland that Fitzgerald was, by 
God, a very distinguished but drunken 
Americin writer whose heroines often 
resembled his beautiful, flapperish wife. 


y. though, the better part of 
en up with Costigan's ex- 
pert dramatization of a superior Fitzger- 
ald short story titled The Last of the 
Belles. Shot on location in Savannah, 
Belles evokes an era of lost innocence in 
America between World War Опе 
the Roaring Twenties. Its hero 
vard man in uniform (David Huilman) 
who apparently serves his country by 
paying court to the tow 
à devasti 
Calhoun, the one local girl whose social 
credentials seem to be in order, As Miss 
Calhoun, whose feverish seach for a 
young man with "sincerity" actually 
means that she demands uncritical wor- 
ship of her somewhat shallow charms, 
Susan Sarandon (heretofore seen princi- 
pally as a regular on ABC's soap opera 4 

World Apart) is a funny, captivating, in- 
elfably sad paragon of classic Southern 
coquetry. 

Ignore an occasional flashb: 
chamberlain /Fitzgerald at his writ 
table —supposedly in the act of composi- 
tion—and Last of the Belles outdoes most 
previous efforts to catch the essence of 
Fitzgerald on film. There's less stress on 
plot than on probing characters of a 
particular time and place and social mi- 
Tieu. Steaming silences оп a country-dub 
dance floor are part of it, or maybe jazz- 
ing around in a vintage flivver. or 
leaving discarded beaux in the dust, 
while a world at war, oc 
not quite subdue the insistent 
beat of Back in Your Own Backyard a 
Valencia. M it all seems faindy arch. 
and magnoliascented, like an early W 
ner Bros. period piece with Bette Davis 
as the lence, that’s because 
Costigan, Schaefer and Miss Sarandon 
have done their work so well. The much 
bigger names behind an imminent movie 
of The Great Gatsby may find 
tough act to follow. 


ns away, can 
ick v-tick. 
nd 


this 


THEATER 


Ifa line such as “It will be the end of 
monarchy; E feel ill with shame" sends 
er through your heart, then you n 

need medical attention—but by all mea 


by 


buy tickets to Royce Ryton's Crown Matri- 


monial. Everyon 


else could safely skip this 


nglish import. Why bother retelling the 
story of the Duke of Windsor's abdication 
unless there is some new insight into cha 


acter or politics? This is still the head 
suong Edward (although there is a vague 
attempt to show that he would have been 
a modern, forward-looking king). And 
politics is largely a reason for name-drap 
ping—"How was George of Greece?” said 
matter-of-factly, so that one knows that 
the characters are royal. The play's sole 
innovation is that Mrs. Simpson is kept 
olistage, leaving Edward—uncony 
ly—to catalog her virtues and to reiterate 
that she is “the woman I love." Perhaps 
this should have been a musical. The most 
intriguing character is Queen Mary: 
Resolute. officious, she is devoted to the 
nd negligent of her offspring. In 
а better play, Queen Mary would be mon- 
nd—despite the familiari 
the drama— Edward might be tragic. but 
Ryton's writing is easy and predictable 
(here, with a thud, comes another cu 
ne). Although he has an occasions 
tendency to sound and look more 
young Wiuston than young Windsor 
George Grizzard gives quite a creditable 
performance and Eileen Неге has thick- 
ly brocaded herself into the costume and 
the role of Queen Mary. The acting is 
lively, but it cannot vivily a lifeless play 
At the Helen Hayes. 210 West 46th Street. 
A Japanese thief—he has just stolen a 
camera from another Japanese, because 
he is offended by the stereotype that all 
Japanese have cameras—is handcuffed to 
à radiator in the middle of a living room 
and. to his dismay, is not the center ol 
attention. In fact, everyone ignores h 
All around him is exploding a crazy a 
archic comedy called Nourish the Beast and 
he is the least of the oddities onstage. The 
heroine of this new play by Steve Tesich 
(a comic discovery of the American Place 
Theater) is а casual Earth Mother named 
Goya. This is her house and these are her 
people—an orphan who grows up to be 
rge stolid cop (and finds neither 
role satisfying), Goya's hysterical prodi- 
gal daughter. a grandfatherly graybeard 
who becomes violent when anyone calls 
him grandpa, and the latest in a series of 
husbands (when one dies, she places a 
husband-wanted ad). The current one is 
dying—very gracefully—and this time he 
takes out an ad, which keeps the doorbell 
buzzing and the comedy cascading, Like 
that thief, the author smashes stereotypes. 
His message is: You can be whatever you 
want to be. At times the humor is a bit 
too insistent, and some of the monologs 
go on too long—the play could use some 
judicious pruning—but it's original and 
effervescent, a wise, crackling contempo- 
rary equivalent of You Can't Take It 
with You. The cast (directed by Edwin 
herin), particularly Olympia Dukakis as 
Goya and Randy Kim as the thiet, is 
blissfully in tune with Tesich. At the 
Cherry Lane, 38 Commerce Street. 


a 


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Panasonic offers all kinds of 


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. Did you ever wake up 
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PLAYBOY 


46 


Automatically answer 
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Mig. Sugg. Ret 


THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


Ё am unusually afraid to ask an attrac- 
tive girl for a first date, whether she is 
old friend or a new intance. T 
size that she will think that I am after her 
bod, that she will be repulsed, offended 
or, more realistically, that she will just 
not be interested. In most , 1 would 
like to have sex, but I am never pushy on 
the first date and I play it conservatively 
by car after that. The risk of rejection, of 
being put down by a no, is greater than 
the possible bencfit and ego boost of her 
ing yes. What should I do:—K. A., 
ew Jerse 
Avoid confusion: Ask her to leave her 
bod home on your first date or ask her 
for a second date first. Your fear is self- 
defeating. Risks aren't real until you 
take them, and then they become con- 
sequences, which are a lot easier to live 
with. Failure at least gives you something 
tangible to work with; your forebodings 
of rejection don't. 1] she says yes, keep in 
mind that there are betler parts of the 
anatomy to play it by than your ear. 


During a forthcoming vacation, I ex- 
pect to travel to England. I've heard that 
it is possible to buy an old. prewar luxury 
auto—a Bentley or а Rolls—for less than 
$5000. Is this true and. if so, would I run 
to any Wouble trying to get one ino the 
United States—A. A.. Sr. Louis, Missow 

A sales representative for Rolls-Royce 
says that it is possible to buy a vintage 
Rolls at a low price [rom a private source 
in England but that the chances of find- 
ing one are thin, especially on a brief 
visit. He also warns that the quality of a 
luxury auto available for $5000 probably 
would leave much to be desired and that 
unless you found a real bargain, the ex- 
penses involved in transporting and. re- 
storing the vehicle could bring the final 
cost close to the price of п new model. 
Current. U.S. autosafety requirements 
would not interfere with your scheme, 
since you would probably license the car 
as an antique vehicle. (Caution: Some 
slates restrict highway use of antique 
cars.) None of the above arguments 
would discourage a true classic-car buff. 
Good hunting. 


AAS a salesman for а clothing firm, I 
often entertain clients, An incident oc- 
cured on my kst trip that has me 
puzzled. I called the buyer of my largest 
account and invited him to lunch. He 
accepted. When I met him at his office, 
he asked me if I had an expense account. 
I told him the truth, that I did not. He 
said that fact changed the place where 
we would eat, Instead of an expensive re- 
past, we had beer and sandwiches at a 


quiet restaurant. I don't think I will lose 
the account because of this incident, but 
I wonder what I should do if the ques- 
tion arises again?—S. S., Chicago, Illinois. 

The debt of a salesman concerns no 
one but the salesman and the Internal 
Revenue Service. Although the buyer 
was presumably looking out for your in- 
terest, he really should not have inquired. 
The next time someone asks, imply that 
you will be reimbursed for the meal. 
en if you aren't on an expense account, 
you can still say thal it is a business ex- 
pense and claim a tax deduction. 


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


Since 1 was 16 years old, Т have enter- 
tained the fantasy of being spanked bare- 
bottomed. T confided this desire to my 
husband, but he seems reluctant to do it. 
We have an extremely good sex life: 
pressive, inventive, loving—and this is 
the only area in which we disagree. Con. 
sequently, 1 am becoming more and 
more frustrated. How can I convince my 
husband to try spanking?—Mis. R. C, 
Fort Worth, Texas. 

The desire 10 be spanked is a common 
sexual idiosynerasy; an open mind and 
an open hand combine well with a per- 
son who gets turned on when turned 
ет. After all, the buttocks ате a legiti- 
mate erogenous zone, even if neglected 
һу many lovers. Ask your husband to ex- 
plain his reservations. He тау be ajraid 
that he will hurt you—tell him that you'll 
be sure to ask him to stop if you become 
uncomfortable. Не may think it is 
wrong—ask him to let the punishment 
fit the crime. We think that he can be 
persuaded 10 try spanking (at least 
once). Sexual experimentation is its own 
reward and you may end up hearing your 
husband exclaim: “This is going to please 
me more than it pleases you.” 


For the pase few years, I've been living 
with a gentle, slightly withdrawn long- 
hair. E d tionship—we're into 
drugs, music and lots of guiltfree sex. 
Now, though my job, I have been ap- 
proached by many attractive, well-off, 
straight guys who'd like to date me. I 
have gone out with several of them and 
must admit that they are a different 
breed of cat from my old man. They 
seem to expect me to go to bed with 
them, as though it has become a social 
nicety to ball your escort (like 
cabdriver or а bellhop). I'm miles from 
being a prude, but Гус grown used to 
sex in the context of involvement and 
I'm put off by this casual payoff-forthe- 
dinner attitude. Is it possible to ball 


our rel 


ү 


pping a > he 


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


‘OF MEM COMPANY, NORTHVALE, NJ. Œ 1971 


47 


The 
Old Timer. 


PLAYBOY 


ом 


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fully with jocks? I'd like to know 
how to refuse their demands without b 
coming uptight.—Miss M. M., Flagstalf, 
Arizona. 

Sexual freedom gives you the right 10 
have sex and to be free of it. You can re- 
fuse to go to bed with your dates and 
probably should if you Jeel they view the 
act as obligatory payment Jor the cue- 
ning. But do it with style. One of our fa- 
vorite parables tells of a young girl who. 
passing the courtyard о] à rich merchant, 
saw a kettle filled with boiling broth. She 
had only a loaf of bread for dinner, so 
she held the loaf over the kettle so that 
the vapors would add flavor to her meage: 
fare. The merchant came out of hi 
house, saw what was happening and de- 
manded payment. The girl reached into 
her pocket, rattled a handful of coins 
and announced: “I will pay for the scent 
of your broth with the sound of my 
silver.” I's up to you to determine the 
currency and the vate of exchange ac- 
cording to your own interests. Meaning 
is where you make it. 


Orc of the guys I drink with always 
asks for buffalograss vodka or Polish- 
bisou brew. Most bartenders say they've 
never heard of the stuff or ignore him, 
figuring that his requ ethnic slur 
or an old joke. Seei s there are no 
buffalo in Poland, Em inclined to think 
my friend is putting us all on. Do you 
agree? D. O., Macon, Georgia. 

There are buffalo in Poland; they ure 
called zubra and they ате fond of a wild 
grass that grows in the Bialowieza Forest. 
Zubrówka or Bison Brand vodka is fil- 
tered through this grass, which imparts a 
pale-green color and an aromatic herb 
flavor to the bever (There's a blade 
oj buffalo grass in each bottle.) Zubrowka 
is the traditional drink served to return- 
ing hunters in eastern Poland. It is avail- 
able in this country, although not in most 
bars, and it makes an excellent aperitif. 


А... 


month ago, I married а won- 
derful girl whom I had dated for wo 
years. Now I find myself in a dilemma: 
Her sex drive isn't nearly what mine is 
and its driving me up а wall. For the 
many months we dated, she insisted on a 
hands-off policy, which ] assumed was 
due to a series of unsuccessful affairs in 
her past. In the month weve been mar- 
ried. we've had intercourse only twice 
The rest of the tiine she insists that E stay 
on my side of the bed, and she politely 
but firmly resists any affectionate 
proaches. She stays up watching late 
movies or reading murder mysteries until 
two or three in the morning in what I 
think is her way of avoiding intercourse. 
Ironically, when the subject of newly 
weds conversition with 
friends, you 
sexual desires. 

when we do hay 


comes up in 


1 swear she was а slave to my 


1 might mention that 
intercourse, there is no 


problem—she seems to enjoy it as much 
as 1 do. I deliberately have not subjected 
her to unusual positions or unique sexual 
methods. I performed oral sex on her 
once and she obviously enjoyed it, but 
since that time she has resisted my ad 
vances. 15 there anything | can do to 
improve the situation?—F. Ry Fort 
Wayne, Indiana 
The other night we heard a character 
in that old movie “Lady Luck" tell a 
troubled friend: “Son, you just broke the 
eleventh commandment—never accuse а 
woman of your own imagination” Or 
lack of one. Your letter is a catalog of 
things you assume about your wife. Get 
her side of the story and you'll probably 
have company on your side of the bed. 


Hoping to be able to move off campus, I 
placed a want ad om a school bulletin 
board for a couple of roommates to sh 
ment Lh 
joke. Г added. “Men 
cred on an equalopportunity 
Well. sure enough. two young ladies 
called in response. Although they could 


re 


be pulling my leg, it is possible that 
th 


e serious. Should 1 do it —D, B.. 
Norman, Oklaliom: 

Oklahoma doesn’t have a law against 
cohabitation, so go ahead. A mixed apart- 
ment, with everyone taking a full shave 
of rent, cleaning, cooking, ct 
very enjoyable and preferable to the 
dormlile atmosphere of living with the 
guys. But if you anticipate a harem ar- 
rangement. with the ladies taking care of 
cucrything and catering to your whims— 
if, indeed, your fantasies have them pull- 
ing more than your leg—you may be in 
Jor a rude awakenmg. Know what you 
want, know what they want and be sure 
to read the lease as (0 financial liability 
for the rent, should the arrangement not 
work out. 


can be 


Goan the use of amphetamines (spe 
increase one’s sexual desire? 1 am a 
yea uate student and 1 
amphetamines (black beauties and cross- 
roads) quite frequently. especially around 
exam time. I become extremely aroused 
whenever I take one. Also, І don't con- 
sider myself addicted to speed, but I 
wonder if the two or three pills T take 
each week could affect my offspring— 
L. G.. Ann Arbor, Місіі; 

According to “Sex and Drugs” by 
Robert A. Wilson, amphetamines affect 
the entire central nervous system and, 
hence, all bodily functions, including the 
sex drive. Speed increases circulation and 
the pace of nerve impulses and produces 
an exhilaiation that sometimes makes se; 
more enjoyable. Typical black beauties 
and crossroads are dextroamphetamines, 
the least harmful of the drug group. 
However, with chronic abuse, even these 
can produce anxious or paranoid states. 
Damage to future offspring has not been 


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conclusively documented, but we do know 
that speed freaks tend to he distraught, 
emaciated and potentially dangerous й 
dividuals, highly suspicious and easy to 
anger. With а personality like that, we 
wouldn't worry about offspring—the 
problem mould be finding someone who 
would put up with you long enough to 
conceive and bear your child. 


Because 1 haye a problem with pre- 
the a 
Is there 
R. B.. Philadelphia, Penns 

First, define your terms. In one sense, 
every ejaculation that a virgin has is pre- 
mature, but that is not the same as a 
shortcoming. If you discovered your 
problem while masturbating, then you 
do not have a problem. If you discovered 
your problem. during am intimate en- 
counter, then you do have a problem. 
but probably not the one you think you 
have. It's called end point. release. For 
some men, sex is a test and ejaculation 
becomes the bell that signals the end of 
the exam period. You have to hand in 
your answer whether you think you've 
passed or not. Relax. One orgasm is no 
reason to end the evening. It's not hard 
to recover and there are plenty of things 
to do in the interim. Don't feel embar- 
rassed or anxious; we heard of опе guy 
who, having ejaculated, tried to change 
the subject and started lecturing his date 
оп the political implications of Water- 
gate. She lost interest, as you can im- 
agine, Don't digress and don’t expect 
your hair-trigger sensitivity to disappear 
overnight. Novelty creates a friction that 
can come as a surprise to the most ex- 
perienced lover. Masters and Johnson 
say that before you can condition your- 
self, you must first learn. to sense the 
level of sexual stimulation that precedes 
the stage of orgasmic inevitability (just 
prior to cjaculation). When you've 
learned to identify this (masturbation is 
опе way to learn, intercourse another), 
ask your partner’s help in remaining 
relatively inaclive at that point. The 
urge will die down, then you can start 
coital activity again. You may have to 
start and stop many times, but eventu- 
ally you should develop a sure sense of 
control. Don't be afraid to talk to your 
companion; more and more women real- 
ize that duration of intercourse involves 
both partners’ response ability and ave 


от mu 
ion, food and drink, stereo and sports 
cars to dating dilemmas, taste and eti- 
quette—uvill be personally answered if th 
writer includes a stamped, self-addressed 
envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy 
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THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


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


THE COURT'S OBSCENITY DECISIONS 
In the October 1973 Playboy Forum 
editorial statement titled The Court and 
Obscenity, you severely criticized the 
Supreme Court's obscenity rulings, but 
you failed to say how they will specif 
ly affect PLAYBOY. In fact, your comment 
that “national publishers . will be 
forced to meet the most conservative 
common denominators for sexual materi- 
als or face constant litigation at the whim 
of local prosecutors” hinted that PLAYBOY 
might do aboutface and march 
straight back into the Fifties, So far 1 
have heard little to dispel that impres- 
sion. If you do plan to retreat to the 
safety of euphemistic prose and coyly 
hidden pubic areas, please let me know 
so that I can cancel my subscription 
Thomas Cunningham 
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 
We will not retreat from our present 
editorial or pictorial policies. To alter 
PLAYBOY in response to the Court's yul- 
ings—which are directed at hard-core por- 
nography—would mean that we have 
been publishing obscenity—which we 
haue noi. Our warning about the possi- 
ble effects of the Courts obscenity rul- 
ings refers to the danger that the 
community-standards doctrine, carried to 
its logical extreme, will, as Justice Doug- 
las put it, “make it possible to ban any 
paper or any journal or magazine in 
some benighted place.” Though there 
have been occasional attempts over the 
past 20 years to prosecute PLAYBOY for 
obscenity, none has ever succeeded. The 
fact that the Court has permitted local 
communities to determine their own 
standards for obscenity means thal there 
will probably be more litigation, but in 
amy community where our editorial in- 
legrity is challenged, we will defend 
PLAYBOY as vigorously in the future as we 
have in the past. 


statement оп the 
Supreme Court's decisions on pornogra- 
phy described many Americans as “right 
ened by the transition to greater freedom 
of sexual expression in recent years." I 
am not afraid of free expression about 
sex, but T despise pornography. Sex to 
me is a profound experience that eng 
many of the special qualities that 1 
us human, People want to care 
someone and be cared about. Porno, 
phy totally ignorcs this human dimension. 

But 1 do agree with PLAYBov that each 


adult should be free to choose whatever 
material he wants to read or see. A moral 
decision is meaningful only when it is a 
free choice, and censorship prevents such 
freedom, 


Donald Boyd 
ttle, Washington 


Your editorial stat t misses an im- 
portant point. There is an analogy be- 
tween the problem of air and water 
pollution and the moral issues raised by 
the sale of pornographic literature. If onc 
groups consumption imposes hardships 
on others—be they automobile ist 
fumes or the sight of pornographic liter: 
ture—then the group of consumers 
should be penalized for their actions. You 
may not think that people should be 
bothered by pornography. That is irrele 
vant. As long as people think they are 
bothered, then, in fact, they are. 

The Court recognized that morality is 
important only to the extent that people 
think it is; therefore, it did not attempt to 
impose a national moral standard. Some 
communities may adopt quite p 
cal laws. But this is a problem many 
dustries routinely confroi 
must conform to diffe: 
standards for different com 

David Levy 
Lewiston, Maine 

Exposure to pollution is usually un- 
avoidable and involuntary, whereas ex- 
posure to pornography is a matter of 
choice, and pollution does not simply of- 
fend people, it measurably injures them. 
One of the main issues in the obsceni 
controversy is the procensorship forces’ 
bland dismissal of the abundant scien- 
tific evidence that pornography hurts no 
one. Also, your argument implies that the 
majority in a community has a right to 
suppress any sort of literary or pictorial 
matter that offends it. To adopt that 
principle would be to abolish the First 
Amendment altogether. 


n- 
when they 
air-quality 


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Everyone knows that pornography 
twists and destroys the minds of those 
who view it. It is good, therefore, that 

upreme Court has taken steps to 

the distribution of this dangerous 
filth. However, we are concerned about 
the judges who will have the respon- 


sibility of protecting the moral sensibili- 
ies of their communities. So much smut is 
being produced that these men may be 


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51 


PLAYBOY 


52 


forced to spend all their time reviewing 
it and thus will be hindered in their abil- 
ity to mete out justice to other types of 
criminals. Also, since immersion in ob- 
scenity сап only degrade and pervert 
one’s outlook, how long will it be before 
these sume judges, their minds tortured 
by what they have seen, take to molesting 
innocent tots and other equally disgust- 
ing forms of perversion? 

Recognizing these dangers, we are pre- 
pared to make a monumental sacrifice 
for the American moral heritage. To save 
our nation from moral subversion and 
our judges from mental perversion, we 
arc offering to sacrifice our own minds to 
view and pass judgment on these lewd 
literary and cinematographic debauch- 
cries. Indeed, to paraphrase another 


patriot, we only regret that we each have 
but one mind to give for our country. 
Ron Cluskey 
Joe Gelling 
Brimfield, 1 


REDEEMING SPACIAL VALUE 
So pornography has no value? Not 
true, according to a story in Time maga- 
zine about the stresses astronauts and 
submariners endure when spending long 
stretches of time isolated from the nor- 
mal world. On nuclear submarines, the 
men are keen consumers of X-rated mov- 
ies and what they call “crotch novels.” 
‘The article quotes a psychologist who has 
studied the submariners as saying, “The 
Pornographic route has probably served 
а useful purpose." Pornographic librar- 
ies are even being proposed for nuclear 
subs, to ease tension. Much of this sub- 
marine rescarch will be used to help 
astronauts endure long space voyages such 
as the proposcd two-year trip to Mars. 
Don't be surprised if the first movie 
shown in deep space is Deep Throat. 
Miroslav Novotny 
Kaneohe, Haw 


THE TWO FACES OF DALLAS 
A Dallas jury gaye maximum sentences 
of five years in prison and $5000 fines to 
three men and two women convicted of 
violating the states obscenity law by 
showing Deep Throat. But, according to 
Dallas Morning News columnist Robert 
Miller, “some people in the office of 
District Attorney Henry Wade, the same 
office that prosecuted the [theater] em- 
ployecs, are showing the film around 
privately to various groups." 
Arthur Lewis 
Houston, Texas 


PORNOGRAPHY IN DENMARK 

In its decisions on obscenity issued last 
June, the U. S. Supreme Court, in the ab- 
Sence of any supporting scientific evi- 
dence, said that it is reasonable for 
legislatures simply to assume that pornog- 
raphy is harmful. Is it really so reasona- 
ble? A number of years ago, Denmark 
removed restrictions on pornographic 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


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


BEDSIDE MANNERS 

Los ANGELES—Of 460 doctors respond- 
ing lo a survey, about fme. percent said 
they have had sexual intercourse with 
some of their patients and another eight 
percent said they occasionally used other 
evolic practices as treatment. However, 87 
percent flatly rejected all forms of sex 
as destructive to the doctor-patient re- 
lationship, unethical or “professional sui- 
cide.” The study, conducted by a team 
of UCLA psychiatristsand reported in the 
American Journal of Psychiatry, found 
that the doctors most opposed to sex with 
patients were psychiatrists, obstetricians 
and gynecologists. 


NEW TREAT ON SESAME STREET 
MONTREAL—The National Cablevision 
Company has apologized to Montreal 
parents whose children tuned in “Ses 
ame Street” and ended up watching the 
Miss Nude Galaxy Pageant, A Cablevi 
sion oficial explained that an electronic 


switch automatically shut off а weaken- 
ing line signal carrying the children's 
program and substituted the program on 
the studio's test monitor. As it happened, 
station cmployees were using ihe test 
monitor lo look at a video lape of the 
nude beauty contest. 


LETTER OF THE LAW 

VANCOUVER, BRITISH  COLUMBIA— 7 ie 
British Columbia Liquor Control Board 
threatened to close down a night club be- 
cause il featured nude dancers without 
having at least a three-piece orchestra as 
required by law. The owner willingly 
complied, hiring an orchestra consisting 
of three nude girls. The board found this 
acceptable. Suid a spokesman, “As long 
as he has three musicians, how they are 
attired is of no concern to us.” 


THE PORN PICTURE 

The U.S. Supreme Court's decision to 
let states define pornography on the basis 
of community standards has inspired 
fewer prosecutions than first expected 
and so far, at least, judges and. juries 
have not displayed a strong inclination 
toward censorship: 


+ A Manhattan supreme-court judge 
ruled that four hard-core sex movies 
were “patently offensive” but refused to 
close them down, because “There is no 
evidence before me to gauge the con- 
temporary standards of the New York 
communily.” He went on to declare the 
New York State obscenity law unconsti- 
tutionally vague. 

* A jury in Little Roch, Arkansas, found 
“Deep Throat” obscene by community 
standards, but a jury in Jacksonville, 
Florida, decided that the same film was 
acceptable. 

* In Los Angeles, an attempt to close 
down “Deep Throat” as a public nui- 
sance under the state's Red Light Abate- 
ment Act [айса when a local judge ruled 
that the law applied to brothels, not to 
movies. 

+ In Washington, D.C., a jury of ten 
women and two men watched the sex- 
orgy film “Distortions of Sexuality" and 
acquitted its distributor of violating Fed- 
eral laws against transporting obscene 
materials across state lines. The Federal 
prosecutor said the verdict would not 
halt future obscenity prosecutions, but 
added that further acquittals would com- 
pel his office 10 “rethink” its attitude 
about acting against sexually explicit 
films. 

* The supreme court of Puerto Rico, 
in overturning the conviction of a maga- 
zine-store cashier, declared that the act of 
censorship is more offensive than the por- 
nography it is supposed to control and 
called on law-enforcement officials to 
concentrate their efforts against murder- 
ets, robbers and other criminals, The 
court said that the “confiscation of books. 
magazines and newspapers by agents of 
the public order is too reminiscent of the 
tragic Nazi eva to be a tolerable activity.” 

* The city council of Riverview, Mich- 
igan, invited the neighboring community 
of Inkster to join in endorsing proposed 
state legislation against pornography and 
obscenity. In response, the Inkster city 
council sent the city fathers of Riverview 
а copy of the First Amendment. 


IN THE LAND OF THE FREE 
CHESTER, NEW JERSEY—A 16year-old 
high school student has sued the FBI for 
$65,000, alleging that the bureau. inter- 
cepted her letter to the Socialist Labor 
Party and then subjected her to a secu- 
rity investigation. The letter was writien 
ns part of a school social-studies project to 
compile general information on the dif- 
ferent political parties in the U.S. The 
suil, supported by the American Civil 
Libertics Union of New Jersey and the 
Rutgers Constitutional Litigation Clinic, 


seeks punitive and compensatory dam- 
ages, the surrender of any FBI files on 
students in the school project and a court 
order forbidding the bureau from inter- 
fering with citizens’ mail to lawful politi- 
cal organizations. 


WOMEN'S RIGHTS VICTORY 

sack MENTO— California husbands lose 
their legal status as head of household 
and women acquire equal credit rights 
under a new state law that takes effect this 
month, The Equal Property Rights Act 
gives a wife joint control to acquire and 
dispose of community property, meaning 
that spouses will have to obtain each 
other's permission before they sell even 
household effects and clothing. A com- 
panion law makes it illegal to refuse 
credit to women for reasons of sex or 
marital status. 


ILLEGITIMATE FATHERS 

HARTFORD, CONNECTICUT—A three-judge 
Federal court has upheld a Connecticut 
law under which a court may order unwed 
welfare mothers to name the fathers of 
their children. The decision permits state 
welfare officials to deny welfare funds to 
women who refuse to help the state 
compel the fathers to pay child support. 
Legal Aid Society lawyers argucd that 
the law was used as a means of forc- 
ing women off welfare rolls and that it 
was as much an invasion of privacy as 
forcing a wife to testify against her hus- 
band. The court ruled, however, that 
“The relationship that these unwed 
mothers seek to protect from disclosure 
is emphatically different. There is no 
privilege to withhold the testimony of a 


mere paramou 


FOGGY BOTTOM FOLLIES 
WASHINGTON, D.C.—Security officers, act- 

ing on a tip, searched the U.S. State 

Department Building and discovered a 


room apparently used by Government 
employees for surreptitious sexual activi. 
lies. State Department press officials first 


denied any knowledge of the matter but 
later confirmed the report and said the 
room, intended for storage of janitorial 
supplies, was on the third floor in a 
section of the building occupied by the 
Agency for International Development. 


THE PRESIDENT'S MUG 
SAN FRANCISCO—Giting a Federal coun- 
erfeiting statute, the U.S. Secret Serv- 
e has seized und destroyed some 2000 
novelty coffee mugs bearing a caricature 
of President Nixon on a facsimile of a 
three-dollar bill. The 
mugs had been manu- 
factured in Japan for 
a giftware importer. 
The agent in charge 
of the Secret Service 
office in San Francisco 
said the mugs violated 
currency laws govern- 
ing "similitude"— 
resemblance to — 
U.S. paper money. | 
“Even one minute Y 
corner of the bill, 
if it’s in similitude, 
is usually deemed a 
violation. And that’s regardless of the 
material. whether it's paper, cloth, glass 
or anything.” The local U.S. Attorney, 
who has declined to prosecute, said, “This 
doesn't sound like the most serious viola- 
tion Гое ever heard of.” 


KEEP ’EM IN THE CLINK 

AUS] EXAS Phe Texas court of 
criminal appeals has struck down the 
provision of the state's new liberalized 
marijuana law that would have permit- 
ted sentence reductions for an estimated 
400 to $00 people convicted under the 
old statute, which made even first-oflense 
possession a two-years-to-life felony. The 
court held that the provision violaled the 
slate constitution by delegating to judges 
clemency powers ucsled solely in the gov- 
ernor and board of pardons. The law was 
challenged by Austin district attorney 
Robert O. Smith, who has obtained 
hundreds of pot convictions and who 
opposed resentencing of Frank 4. De- 
molli, serving a 23-year prison term for 
pot possession (“The Playboy Forum," 
April 1973). Austin attorney Sam Houston 
Clinton, Jr. who represented Demolli, 
had argued that “We're unable to dis- 
cover why criminal courts cannot by legis- 
lative enactment be given control over 
their own judgments.” He said he now 
hoped that Governor Dolph Briscoe 
would respond to the spirit of the new 
law and the intent of the legislature by 
exercising his clemency powers in the 
cases that probably would have been 
affected under the statute's original re- 
sentencing provision. 


books for adults and later did the same 
for movies. I don't believe there was even 
a ghost of a whisper of the word Den- 
ny of those five turgid, philo- 

up decisions issued. by 
leads me to 


mark 
sophically mixet 
the Burger Cour. Th 
suspect that the Danish ex 
unrestricted pornography for adults 
proved what every intelligent, nonbra 
vashed person in the U. 5. could reasona- 
bly assume—that pornography is totally 
harmless. Could The Playboy Forum 
confirm this? 


In 1967, Denmark removed legal pro- 
hibitions on the sale of written pornogra- 
phy to those 18 years of age and over, 
and in 1969, it ended the ban on pictorial 
pornography and lowered the permissi- 
ble age of access to 16 or over. If pornog- 
raphy causes antisocial sexual behavior, 
the number of sex crimes in Denmark 
might have been expected to rise from 
1967 on, but it has declined. This killed 
the theory thal pornography is a trigger 
of sex crime, but raised the possibility 
that pornography might actually be a 
safety valve for the impulses of poten- 
tial sexual criminals, Psychologist. Berl 
Kutchinsky, director of Copenhagen's In- 
stitute of Criminal Science, has been 
investigating the relationship between 
pornography and sex crime т Denmark. 
Kutchinsky found that there has been no 
change in the vate of rapes in Copenha- 
gen between 1959 and 1970, which seems 
to mean this crime has not been affected 
by availability of pornography. There 
were drops in other sexual offenses dur- 
ing the same period: exhibitionism (a 
decrease of 58 percent), pecping (an 80 
percent decrease), molesling of women 
(down 56 percent) and molesting of girls 
11 years of age and under (a decrease of 
69 percent) 

The sharpest dectine in these crimes 
occurred after 1967, when pornography 
was first legalized. After analysing rec- 
ords of each type of crime, Kutchinsky 
concluded that, in today's more relaxed 
sexual climate, instances of exhibition- 
ism and mild cases of fanny-atiing and 
the like ojien don't bother people 
enough to make them go to the police. 
However, Danes consider peeping an 
invasion of privacy and do report it, and 
both police and civilians continue to 
lake a serious view of child molestation, 
so any reduction in the reporting of these 
crimes is unlikely. Kutchinsky tentatively 
concludes that. potential child molesters 
ате able 10 satisfy their sexual feelings 
through pornography, probably com- 
bined with masturbation. As for the drop 
in voyeurs’ bothering private persons, 
that’s easy, because Denmark with free 
access to pictorial pornography has be- 
come, as Kutchinsky remarks, a "peeper's 
paradise.” 

Munch of this information has been 
available to U.S. authorities for years, 


53 


| 
| 
| 


PLAYBOY 


56 


since Kutchinsky reported his interim 
findings in 1970 to the Federal Commis- 
sion on Obscenity and Pornography. 
President Nixon and his appointees on 
the Supreme Court chose lo ignore this 
evidence. 


CENSORING MAUDE 

An attempt by the United States C: 
olic Conference to prevent the rebr 
cast of two Maude TV episodes dea 
with abortion succeeded to the 
that the shows were not aired by CBS af- 
filiate stations in 39 cities. Seven. major 
U. 5. corporations also withdrew sponsor- 
ship of the broadcasts. 

The debate about whether sexus 
terial should be protected under the 
Amendment will continue for a long 
time. But there is no question about the 
Maude incident. As Archbishop John F. 
Whealon, Catholic Primate of Hartford, 
said in 2 published statement, “I see this 
«+, asa usc of TV to advance the doc- 
trine that abortion is an acceptable solu- 
tion to an inconvenient pregnancy.” 

Precisely. And that doctrine, whether 
the archbishop likes it or not, is protected 
by the First Amendment. Even if the Su- 
preme Court can define pornography as 
nonspecch, and thereby tke away its 
First Amendment le; nobody can 
claim that а doci bout abortion, 
whether pro or con, is not precisely the 
sort of speech the First Amendment was 
intended 10 protect. By blocking the ex- 
pression of this point of view, the Catho- 
lic Church has set itself above the 
Constitution and invaded the civil liber- 
tics of us all. 

1 was delighted 10 sce that the Na- 
tional Organiza’ en, Zero 
Population Growth and the National As- 
sociation for Repeal of Abortion Laws 
strongly oppose the Catholic Church on 
this, J was sorry to see that Catholic Jib- 
crals were not heard in defense of our 
freedom of speech. И I were a Catholic. 
I would howl long and loud against chi 
attempt to make my church the propo- 
nent of un-American and undemocratic 
practices. 


George Jackson 
Phoenix, Arizon: 
Also condemning this TV censorship 
were the American Civil Liberties 


Union, the National Council of Churches, 
the Union of American Hebrew Con- 
gregations, the Young Women's Christian 
Association—U. S. A. and the Freedom to 
Read Committee of the Association of 
American Publishers, In a joint stat 
ment deploring the obstacles encoun- 
tered by “Maude” and the TV version of 
the antiwar play “Sticks and Bones,” the 
groups stressed television's responsibil- 
ity to offer the public diverse points of 
view and declared that failure to do 
so “amounts to self-censorship on the 
grounds of mere controversiality, a most 
insidious abridgment of free expression. 
... The public interest is not served when 


a station's progran decision is made on 
the basis o] fear of controversy, or when 
an advertiser's sponsorship is determined 
by fear of economic reprisal.” 


CRO-MAGNON ATTITUDES 

Wendy Berlowitz, whose letter describ- 
ing her arrest for taking her bra off in 
public appeared in the October Playboy 
Forum, has been acquitted. The judge in 
her case ruled that the Oklahoma law 
that makes it a felony for one to "Чему 
expose his person" is unconstitutional 
because of its vagueness, He added, inter- 
estingly enough, that there is no "author- 
y that breasts are part of the . . 
‘private parts’ "Hf. generally accepted, 
this would mean that the law could not 
prevent women from going bare-breasted 
in public. The police chief of Norman, 
Oklahoma, commented, “I think that 
this puts us back in the primitive ages 
when people were allowed to do these 
thing 


Robert Foster 
Carson City, Nevada 


OUT OF THE SEWER 

In a TV debate on erotic entertain- 
ment here in Honolulu, the participants. 
were Jerlene Rome, mistress of ceremo- 


the Dunes night club, who spoke 


on behalf of nightclub owners and de 
fended their right 10 show whatever the 
customers will pay to sce; John Flint, 


of the conservative Young Americans for 
Freedom, who presented the traditional 
libertarian position that one should 


mind one's own business; and Gerri 
Madden, of the Hawaii League of Decen- 
cy, who espoused her own right to mind 
everybody else's business. 
nd Flint emphasized that there 
is no scientific evidence that nudity and 
stage lead to crime and that no 
minority has the right to enforce its own 
prejudices on other people. Against this 
tional and democratic position, what 
Madden have to offer? 1 quote from 
the Honolulu. Star-Bulletin's report on 
the debate: 


Sex is sacred. Anything that's sa- 
cred, you don’t joke about. And what 
docs laughter mean? They laugh i 
insane asylums. We must demand 
that the community does not 
further into the mire. The 
i soul is the business of 
everybody. 

A man carried away by lust will 
commit horrible crimes. When you 
have sex aroused through imagi 
tion, that's damnable. . .. Their will 
is weakened, and they go out of there 
picturing things, picturing debased 
sex. 

I don't need to climb down a 
sewer to know there's filth in there. 
I know what they do at those shows. 
They cavort around and show their 
penises. Don't you put in the paper 
that I said that. . 


And one other thing that bothers 
me—those conservationists always 
talking about “quality of life.” 1 get 
d at them. Purity of the water, 
y of the air—who cares? It’s 


purity of soul that we should be 
worrying about. 
As far as one can find an argu 


amid all these blind assertions, M 


scems to be saying that the pecu 
ner in which she perceives sex. (“mires 
“sewer,” “filth.” etc.) is the way sex really 
is and that those who do not perceive it 
that way must be compelled by law to act 
as if they do. 
Wed betta 
may be Nixon's next 
Supreme Court. 


ch this woman. She 
ppointment to the 


DIVINE LAWGIVER 
In his letter titled “Crybaby Freaks, 
R- H. Woods writes, “You don't acknowl- 
edge the cxistence of God, so how do 
you know that murder ng?" (The 
Playboy Forum, October). This is an at- 
titude typical of people who have been 
to think that we can't discover good 
e 
ЧУЛЕР figure 
out good and evil for ourselves whether or 
not we acknowledge it. The old prohibi- 
ast Killing, ste: 


men 
prehistoric times. Then, to give these 

ary social rules weight, e: 
fabricated tales of gods who ha 
these Jaws together with promises of 
supernatural rewards and punishments. 
Such fairy tales (Woods's attempted sar- 
csm is unwittingly accurate in calling 
the Bible a fair » science fic- 
tion with a bit of history thrown in for 
good measure) may have been useful in 
more ignorant ages. But today we are as 
well equi sce what is good 


t is bad in human conduct and 


we don't need to complicate the 
bringing in mythical dei 
Alba 
Mo 


ме by 


Plante 
trel, Quebec 


BIBLE VS. BIOLOGY 

1 read in the papers that the legislature 
of Tennessee has enacted a law ordering 
that biology textbooks must give equal 
space to both scientific and Biblical ac- 
counts of the origins of the earth and. 
of mankind. To set a crown of сос 
tyranny on top of this pumpkii 
statute, the law further states, 
aching of all occult or satanic 
liefs of human origin is expressly c: 
ed from this act" Books on Or 
religions or minority traditions w 
Judaco-Christian theology are frequently 
classified as occult; this law can easily 
exclude cabalistic Judaism, Christian 
Gnosticism, Sufism, spiritualism and the- 
osophy. Finally, as a last blow at rational- 
ism and liberalism, the law ordains that 


the so-called Holy Bible is defined as 
reference work, not a textbook and, there- 
fore, unlike the science texts, does not 
have to carry the disclaimer that its ac- 
count of creation is theo 

A few years ago the 
board of education set up guidelines 
(since modified) requiring biology text- 
books to include the Genesis myth a: 
alternative 10 the theory of evolution. 
And last August, in California, two de- 
vout members of the Assembly of God 
[undamentalist church took insulin away 
from their diabetic child because а faith 
healer in the church said the boy was 
cured. Their son died, of course, and the 
parents then announced that he would be 
iraculously resurrected four days later. 
(He wasn’t) But how long will it be be- 
fore dim-witted legislators in some state, 
acing on Chief Justice Bu declar 


g equa 3 space with insu 
Last year, (wo members of а snake 


those with laith can SEn drink poison 


(Forum Newsfront, August 1973). Mean 
Justices of the U.S. Supreme 
displaying no more intelligence 
than any of these other benighted souls, 
work to make theological prohibitions of 
pornography into the law of the land. 

d, Christian soldiers. It’s a 


THE BLOODTHIRSTY MR. LOEB 

William Loeb, publisher of the Man- 
chester New Hampshire Union Leader, 
wrote to Dear Abby to ge his opinion 
of pornographi 
comes to trying to put it stop to this type 
of filth, I believe they should shoot the 
people who exhibit these films. 

Even in the light of the recent U.S. 
Supreme Court obscenity decisions, shoot 
hers is going a bit far! 

Norm Pliscou 
Holiville, California 


A letter in the October 1973 Playboy 
Forum quoted the insulting Janguage 
used in an editorial published in the 
Manchester New Hampshire Union Lead 
tr in reference to homosexuals, Here's 

h 


about Jane Е the suggestion 
of this newspaper that Miss Fonda cither 
be refused sion to the United 
States or, immediately following her 
return, be tried for treason. She should 
be shot if a verdict of guilty comes 
Betty M. Graber 

Houston, Texas 

Jane Fonda is alive and well and will 


Champagne grapes make a 
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 
from Great Western. 


Pleasant Valley Wine Co., Hammondsport, New York 14840. 


57 


PLAYBOY 


58 


be interviewed along with her husband, 
Tom Hayden, in the April uayuoy. 


WAVES FROM WATERGATE 

As the carlicr phase of the Watergate 
investigation recedes into history, the out- 
of what we've learned begin to 
appear. First of all, if this is to be a co 


tutional republic and not 

state, the 

does not у 

ful political activity nor the covering up 
by Government officials of their involve- 


ment in cı inal acts. 

Secondly, Watergate is not merely a 
matter for the courts: The publicity at- 
tendant on the Senate investigation h 
been extremely valuable. Public reaction 
at the ballot box is more important than 
g sure that a few low-level culprits 
go to jril—the issucs of political. princi- 
ple at stake are more important than 
questions of individual guilt or inno- 
cence. The American electorate, nol the 
courts, must be the final judge of the 
Nixon Administration. 

Thirdly, it is not true that press cover- 
age of Watergate has been unfair. IE it 
were not for the press, this infection in 
the body politic might never have been 
discovered. Virtually all the newspapers 
in the U, 5. endorsed Nixon in the last 
election. We heard no Administration 
complaints about bias in the press then. 
Nor do Т recall that Nixon or Agnew 
chid the press for excessive preoccupa- 
Чоп with the Eagleton affair. A free press 


has tried to Uaim—between the civil dis- 
obedience of the Sixties and the illegal 
activities of the Watergate culprits. The 
former were open, nonviolent protests 
against laws and Government actions 

de by ci i it of civil rights. 


tempts by 


ernment agents to deprive 
people of their civil rights. Anybody who 
can't see the difference is politically and 
morally blind. 


Edward Thomas 
New Orlcans, Louisiana 


LOVELACE FOR PRESIDENT 

The San Francisco Chronicle reports a 
California supreme court decision that 
held that a teacher may be deprived of 
her teaching license for immorality. The 
case involved a 48-year-old married 
woman who, with her husband, belonged 
to а club called The Swingers, where a 
police spy observed her performing oral 
copulation on three men. The court said 
that this indicated “immoral and unpro- 
fessional conduct . . . moral turpitude 
++. unfitness for service . . . а seriou 
defect of moral character,” and so forth. 

These judges seem quite mad to me. 1 
would say that this teacher performed a 


Iness for the three men far superior 
to loaning them five bucks till payday or 
removing a speck from their сус or giv- 
ing them lodging for the night. People 
who give sexual pleasure are probably 
doing more to make the world a better 
се than all the doctors and psych 
s alive, and cert n the 
judges and the politicians. In short, the 
judges’ view of morality is precis 
wards, because giving a man a blow job 
is a kindness, whercas locking him in a 
cage is an atrocity. In а sane society, 
Linda Lovelace would bc more likely 
to get elected President than any of the 
types currently being considered for 
that officc—if she weren't canonized a 
saint first. 


ainly more tha 


ren Robertson 
са, Mexico 


REMEMBER THE CHICKEN RANCH! 

Anyone with a deep respect for tradi- 
tion will be saddened to learn that law 
and order has fi and 
tes 
most historic institutions. The so-called 
La Grange Chicken Ranch, an cast- 
central Texas house of ill repute whose 
lineage stretches back to the 1840s, had 
served ny generations 
of Texans that it was practically a state 
shrine, like the Alamo. It operated 1e- 

y and openly (if illegally) with 
community consent, ull a thoughüess 
television jou in Houston chose 
to cite it as an example vf selective 
enforcement, compelling state authorities 
gly to do their duty (Forum 
Newsfront, December 1973). 

Not only did the Chicken Ranch pro- 
vide our citizens with an old and stable 
rock to which they could cling through 
these perilous times of social turmoil but 
it also helped to bridge the generation 
p between sons and fathers and even 
ndfathers and possibly great-grand- 
fathers. Of course, it's a little ironic th: 
a house of prostitution should now be- 
come a sentimental landmark, but the 
truth is that the Chicken Ranch will be 
missed as much by those who never € 
perienced its dubious pleasures as by its 
regular customers. 

Dr. Joc B. Frantz 
University of Tes 
Austin, Texas 


s at Austin 


NOBLE NAVEL 

I'm a navel lover, like the 
kakce, Michigan, whose letter appeared 
the October 1973 Playboy Forum. One 
day it occurred to me that the world's 
most erotic outfit is a pair of low-slung 
hip-huggers and a snug halter, and that 
thought led me to elevate the belly but- 
ton to the status of most exciting part of 
the female body. 

Up to now we've hidden beh: 
nyn s the man from Kankakee did, 
from the scorn of the titsand-ass major- 
ity. But 1 say enough of that. I'm calling 


in Kan- 


d ano- 


on fellow navel watchers t0 come out of 
their closets to breathe and ogle in 
ght. Our preference has dignity. 
The navel is noble! 


SWINGING AS A HOBBY 
My wife and I have been swin 
for four years, and reject the frequent 
assertion that most people arc pote 
gers. We've heard lots of stories of 
swingers who tied to tum on straight 
uds, and most of the attempts resulted 
a loss of friendship. Swingers who are 
evangelistic tend to forget that the suc- 
cessful swinger is a somewhat contradic- 
tory blend of childlike hedonism and 
emotional maturity. and that the vast 
majority of Americans find such char- 
acters either morally objectionable or 
emotionally threatening. 
Just about all new swingers go through 
a frustrating and discouraging period of 
answering ads until sooner or later they 
find а couple who will guide them into 
the “in” group. People who are looking 
for meaningful relationships probably 
will not find them through swinging. 
Most of the couples we know are swingers 
n the same sense that they are stamp col- 
lectors, skiers, veterans, church members, 
home improvers, athletes, garden enthu- 
ists, college graduates and parents. 
Swinging is a part of their lives: it doesn’t 
define them. Swingers are interested in 
sex with attractive. considerate. friendly 
hedonists. Meaningful relationships do 
occur among swingers, but they are not 
the norm, because a common interest in 
extramarital sex is no more logical a basis 
for a deep friendship than a common in. 
terest in mixed-doubles tennis. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Florida 


NEW SEXUAL LIFE STYLES 
Throughout the discussion the 
Playboy Panel: New Sexual Life Styles 
(September 1973) ran a thread of impli 
tion that if one does not enjoy, or at least 
accept, sexual diversion ranging from bes- 
tiality to swinging, he or she is not really 
with it and is therefore immature, stunted 
and provincial. I can't help thinking that 
many mature, satisfied, happy pcople 
will be misled into thinking that they 
have not arrived sexually until they can 
embrace all the types of behavior de- 
scribed by your panel. Should we not 
allow that it is quite possible for a man 
d a woman to find complete sexual ful- 
fillment within the confines of tradi- 
ional marriage? 
Kenneth P. Turner, M.D. 
Logan, Ohio 


I found the Playboy Panel: New 
Sexual Life Styles fascinating but utterly 
depressing. The only members wh 
avoided the mean. psechosociologi 
the "scxologisc 
(continued on page 60) 


Annual Report 


THE PLAYBOY FOUNDATION 


During 1973, the Playboy Foun pated in a 
movement that won a major court victory, expanded its work 
into new areas and continued its support of numerous other 
projects to advance the social and legal reforms advocated in 
The Playboy Philosophy. 

The victory came with last January's Supreme Court deci- 
sion legalizing abortion. This was especially gratifying because 
of the Foundation’s long campaign for reform, which began 

1066. The Foundation helped several abortion-reform 
groups, including Ilinois Citizens for the Medical Control of 
Abortion, the Clergy Consultation Service on Problem Preg- 

ncies, the N Association lor Repeal of Abortion 
aws, the W tional Coalition and local organizations 
n several states, These organizations and others constituted the 
movement whose efforts ultimately carried the issue to the 
Supreme Court and produced the favorable ruling. Though a 
decisive battle has been won. the Foundation will remain alert 
to attempts by antiabortion forces in state or local gover 
ments to limit the availability of abortion through restrictive 
guideli ies. 

One of the new recipients of Foundation support is the 

ional Women's Rights Project of the American Civil Liber- 
m. The project, which received a subs 
provide the following lega 
+ Direct legal representation in selected cases of 1 
nificance as well as legal and strategic assistance to cooper 
attorneys in other specific litigatis 

* Compilation and analysis of existing Federal and state laws 
that are sexually discriminator 


nes or pol 


1 informing wom- 
en of their divorce, employ- 


nent, cdu 


ud uedi 
aces and training progra 
working in the arca of women's rights. 

The Foundation has also made a sizable grant to the 
AGLI Privacy Project, whose purpose is to chal 
Jenge Jaws that restrict private sexual behavior between con- 
ing adults, Like the National Women's Rights Project, this 
«псу will act as а resource for attorneys and bring significant 
tigation. This grant is a logical outgrowth of The Playboy 
Philosophy and Hugh M. Hefner's commitment to individual 
iberry in sexual matters, Other 1973 Foundation projects 
related to sexlaw reform include: 
* Assistance Tor the appeal of a California woman convicted 
nd sentenced to jail for performing oral intercourse with a 
consenting adult in a sex film that wis made several years ago. 

Support of legal-aid 1 ging the constitution. 
ty of procedu y Dangerous Persons 
Act. The act allows a psychiatrist to institutionalize indefinitely 
a person he has judged to be “sexually dangerous,” without 
the legal safeguards afforded. convicted. criminals or mental 
patients. 

+ Support. through the A.C.L.U. of Northern California, of a 
project to educate the public in the cost of enforcing Taws 
gainst such victimless crimes as prostitution and consensual 
sex and to draft model legislation designed to redirect law- 
enforcement efforts to public safety. 5 

id ıo the Homosexual Information Cente 
California sex laws against homosexual acis betwc 
ing adults. 


ms for people 


crvice employment to homosexual 

Drug-law reform has long been a major concer 
dation, which has participated in numerous 
lenging both the laws and unusually sever 


of the Foun- 
ases chal- 


continues to offer substantial support for the legal and educa- 
tional programs of the National Organization for the Reform 
of Marijuana Laws (NORML). Thanks in part to the еПогіѕ 
of NORML, the Texas legislature was persuaded to liberalize 
the state's strict marijuana law and the American Bir Associa- 
tion voted to support the decriminalization of pot. NORML. 


‘These were the Founda tion's major reform efforts during 
1973. Others include: 


Capital Punishment: In response to the restoration of the 
death penalty in a number of states. the Foundation contrib- 
uted funds to various organizations and cooperating attorneys 
to monitor capital-punishment. cases to ensure full 
protection of the law and the right of appeal to | 
These groups will also coord 
and historical research aimed 
ality of death sentences. 

Rights of Prisoners: In cooperation with the ACLA, the 
Foundation continued to support the Prison Rights Project, 
which deals with virtually every kind of problem faced by pris- 
опет. The Foundation also aids Justice for Americans Impris 
опей and Lost (JAIL), an organization that locates and assists 
people imprisoned in foreign countries. 


isone 
ate sociological, psychological 
t challenging the constitution- 


Police Misconduct and Community Redress: In addi 


n to. 
ion, the 


joining the A.C.LU. in supporting specific liti 
Foundation is helping the Chicago Council of Lawyers develop. 
а legal-referral service. conduct. training seminars and 
ition manual lor attorneys secking redress of 
nst public agencies and othcials. 

Sex Research: The Foundation continues to 
and Johnson's Reproductive Biology Research Found: 
the University of Minnesota medical school's prog 
human sexuality, the Sex Information and Educat 
of the United 
individuals doing research on sexu 
population control. 

The Public's Right to Know: The Foundation is contribut 
ing funds to Ralph. Nader's Center for Responsive Law in a 
three-year program to compel Government agencies to comply 
with the Federa 
mate interest to journalists. schol 

Censorship: Besides participating 
cases, the Foundation continued its support of such organi- 
ions as the Reporters Committee for Freedom of the Press, 
the Freedom to Read Foundation of the American Library As- 


asse 


Council 
tes (SIECUS) and selected other groups and 


lity, sex education and 


zivil Rights and Liberties: The 
National Lawyers Guild's Grand 
Project. The project will assist 
witnesses called before grand juries, especially in investiga- 
tions of the i SSC ers. Other 
projects in this area concern the rights of mental patients, the 
constitutionality of courtroom procedures and the 
ment of military ju 


ion is siding the 
] Defense Witness 
отуу in representing 


Since it was established in 196: 
helped hundreds of individuals 
much more to be done. During the coming year, the Founda- 
tion will especially concern itself with such serious threats to 
our free society as censorship, wire ta and electronic sur- 
veillance and Government encroachments on basic civil rights. 


PLAYBOY 


were Al Goldstein, Troy Perry and Made- 
line Davis. At least they displayed some 
genuine feeling. in contrast to all the 
others, who, with their dogged carncstness 
and belief that they knew what was good 
for us, scemed to jump out of the pages of 
Brave New World. Of these, however, 
quite the most repulsive on every tenet of 
human contict—whether physical, cmo- 
tional ог intellectual—were panelists 
Betty Dodson and the Kronhausens. If 
these pathetic souls, vibrators in hand, are 
the arbiters of international sexual taste, 
we are truly lost. But congratul 
anyway, for giving this revolting t 
opportunity to discredit themselves so 
completely before the largest liberal 
readership in the world. 

G. R. Greenhous 

Maidenhead, England 


The panel on new sexual life styles 
makes important contribution to 
greater public understanding and accept- 
ance of divergent sexuality, As а staffer 
on a suicide-prevention service, I can tell 
you that many of the problems plaguing 
people nowadays relate to sexuality and 
sexual roles. Your panel went a long way 
in clearing up some of the misconcep- 
tions, prejudices and anxieties that sur- 
round the subject. 


Tim Williams 
Buffalo, New York 


SEXY SENIOR CITIZEN 
‘The oftrepeated daim that masturba- 
n is immature is just puritanical bal- 
derdash, At 65, I often vent my semen by 
hand. My wife lost interest in the sex 
department about five ycars ago, though 
she is still quite happy to accommodate 
me when I have the urge. I Jove her as 
much as ever, for a wonderful 35 years in 
bed and out, and I have resolved to spare 
her the bother of sexual intercourse a 
sort of gift of love from me to her. She's 
more in love with me than ever, and if I 
need the relief that comes with ejacula- 
tion, I masturbate or visit the neighbor- 
hood massage parlor. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Los Angeles, California 


NO, NO, ONAN 

The guy who wrote that he mastur- 
bates belore а date because it delays his 
orgasm when he's screwing later in the 
evening (The Playboy Forum, Septem- 
ber 1973) seems to think he's doing his 
women a favor. Ridiculous. Why doesn't 
he save both orgasms for the ladies; a 
one-shot lover has to be one of the greater 
ir sex must face. 

This poor fellow has a lot to learn, in- 
cluding the fact that the woman’s orgasm 
isn't dependent on bis. There are all 
Kinds of ways to satisfy a woman, with or 
without male orgasm, so it’s stupid to 
worry about timing. As for his own fun, 
if after he comes (prematurely or not— 
it doesn't matter), he uses his fingers, 


тиЕ PLAYBOY SURVEY finds that, contrary 
to popular belief, sexual liberation has 
had little impact on traditional attitudes 
toward or adherence to the ideal of ma 
tal fidelity. In 's time, m. 
people had only two alternatives to life- 
long sexual exclus divorce and se- 
cret extramarital relations. Since then, 
we find, sexual liberation has made the 
divorced far freer ital sexual 
behavior, but it has had lite effect on 
secret extramarital sex. As for the new al- 
ternatives about which there is so much 
talk—open marriage, mate swapping, 


SEXUAL BEHAVIOR IN THE 1970s 
PART IV: EXTRAMARITAL AND POSTMARITAL SEX 


article By MORTON HUNT sexual liberation hasn't increased the rate 
infidelity, nor decreased the consequences, but it’s 
done wonders for the divorced 


striking is the change in coital frequency: 
"The median is more than twice a week— 
more than double the median that 
Kinsey found. 

+ The contrasts are even тоге impres- 
sive for divorced women. Roughly a 
third of Kinsey's younger postmarital 
women and a majority of those beyond 
the mid-40s were having no coitus at all. 
Only a tenth of our sample is sexually 
inactive. The median frequency for the 

ve is almost twice a week (nearly as 
high as for divorced men)—roughly four 
ter than in Kinsey's 


group sex, group marriage, etc.—the data 
suggest that they are mostly just talk. 


Kinsey’s data combine the widowed 
with the separated and the divorced 
(here called simply the divorced), Later 
studies showed the widowed то be sexual- 
ly less active than the divorced, but by 
omitting data for people over 55 (to ex- 
clude most of the widowed) and by re- 
weighting Kinsey's figures, we can make 
reasonably sound comparisons of our 
sample with his. 


Man, 41: “My marriage had been so 
rotten that I almost never felt апу sexual 
desire. . .. I lost all belief in myself as a 
After I left [my wife], 1 couldn't 
bring myself to try it for nearly a year, 
and then I was only half hard and just 
barely made it. . . . Things slowly got 
heuer; with one girl, I was functioning 
marvelously. But for several years, ny 
time with any new woman was al- 
c of nervousness and worry. 


ny forces have made it socially, cco- 

lly and emotionally more feasible 
for men and women to quit unsatisfac- 
tory marriages: the divorce rate is now 
more than twice as high as it was in 1938, 
when Kinsey began his studies. Sexual lib- 
cration has played a major role, taking 
much of the onus off postmarital coitus 
and permitting the divorced to lead full 
and relatively normal sex 1 
not the case a generation ар 

* Of Kinsey's under56 postmarital 
males, from four percent to 18 percent 
were having no coitus at all, the hgure 
being higher among older men. In our 
mple, no divorced man of any age was 
coitally inactive in the past year. (In all 
comparisons with Kinscy, whose sample 
was all-white, we use only the white por 
tion of our own sample) Even more 


es. This was 


31: “I had always thought 
that sex with my husband was very good. 
After we broke up, I began to find out 
what it was all about. One man taught 
me how to be really aware of my own 
body and my reactions. Another 
man was so sensuous that I became that 
way myself. ... But I have this fear of 
getting trapped again. I get into a 
panic whenever I think I'm too involved 
with someone, 

While todays divorced people—fe- 
males in particular—are far freer in their 
sexual behavior, they е not become 
notably indiscriminate. Yet, for various 
reasons—maturity, fear of premature en- 
tanglement, need for self-retesting—they 
are distinctly more casual and experi 
mental than young singles. For 

* Divorced males have a median of 
ht coital par 
under 25 have 
34 have four. 

* Divorced women have a median of 3.5 
coital partners a year; single women un- 
der 25 have one; and single women 25 
to 34 have three. 

Kinsey published no data on the num- 
bers of postmarital coital partners, but it 
is reasonable to suppose that our find- 
ings reflect increases since his time that 
are similar to the increases in coital fre- 
quency of the divorced—that is, between 
twolold and fourfold. 

Kinsey also published no data on tech- 
niques of foreplay and coital variations 
used by posumarital people, In-depth 
interviews with which we supplemented 
our study suggest that divorced people 
today are a good deal freer in both than 
were those of a gencration ago, and our 
survey data show them to be as free 
as or freer than todays under25 hus- 
bands and wives (who, aside from a 


and single men 25 to 


handful of sexual radicals, arc among 
our most liberated respondents). Мет: 
Nine tenths of our divorced men 
more than four fifths of our d 
women had at least some oral.genital ex- 
perience in the past year—about the 
same number as under-25 married people. 
Ист: Divorced men and women were 
more likely than 25 husbands 

d wives to use positional variations in 


n anal intercourse at least. 


gaged 
the past ycar—twice as many as in the 

nder25 married group. Пет: Nine 
tenths of divorced women and even more 
divorced men rate sex as pleasurable or 


псе 


n 


very pleasurable, and more than four 
fiftlis of the women reach orgasm at least 
three quarters of the time. 

Postmarital life still involves many 
decp. complex problems—largely social 
and emotional—but sexual liberation en- 
ables the great majority of the divorced 
to lead healthy, constructive, satisfying 
sexual lives as they repair their egos, test 
out new relationships and work their way 
back into marriage—as, indeed, at least 
four out of five do. 


Man, 45 (physic : “She 
was 20 years younger than I and very 
seductive, Iong-legged, high-breasted. She 
took the initiative, there on the waiting- 
room couch. At first, I was all torn up 
about it, but it made me feel you 
and morc attractive, completely reawak- 
ened inside. It went on for months. . . . 
And now, listen to the funny part—she 
was no good at all, sexually - 
frigid.” 


п contrast, sexual liberation has made 
litle change im extramarital sexual be- 
havior, Recent opinion polls have shown 
that general disapproval of extramarital 
sex persists in the United States, and 80 


percent to 90 percent 
of the husbands and 
wives in the Playboy 
survey say that they 
and their mates would 
object to any such ac- 
tivity by cach other. 
Significantly, most of 
the young are as wr 
willing as older people 
to tolerate such behav- 


jor in their mates. 
Or in themselves. 
Most husbands and 


wives, at all ages, vol- 
untarily refrain from 
extramarital sex. A few 
do so for prac 
sons (fear of V.D. or 
but most 
1 reasons. 
A very few of the latter. 
igidly follow religi 

edicts ("105 a sin to 
commit adultery,” said one Roman Cath- 
olic housewife. “I couldn't do it if 1 want- 
ed to."): more have nonreligious moral 
revulsion (“It’s wrong to play around, 
‘once you've made your commitment,” one 
bluc-collar man said. “It’s dishonest. И I 
did, Га be miserable and disgusted with 
myself"); most restrain themselves out of 
moral concern for their partner's feelings 
and for the integrity of the married love 
relationship (a TV executive said: "My 
wife and I have a very good and rare kind 
of marriage, and 1 know it would hurt her 
badly and make her feel terribly insecure, 
so I simply don't let myself do it"). 


Man, 45 (married): “I was ripped up 
by it, but for months I couldn't break it 
off—I felt as if I were hooked on some 
drag.” 


Despite all the talk, the Playboy survey 
finds little increase in extramarital coitus 
in the past generation. Kinsey estimated 
that about half of all married men com- 
mitted adultery. In our sample, only 41 
percent have ever done so. To be sure, 
many of them still are fairly young; an 
eventual lifetime figure, we think, would 
be about the same as Kinsey’s—but no 
higher. We do, however, find an unm 
takable increase in one part of the sam- 
ple: $2 percent of our under-25 married 
d divorced men have had at least onc 
extramarital experience, as compared 
with 27 percent 2 generation ago. 

Our data show no over-all increase for 
women from Kinsey's time. Indeed, they 
seem to show a drop, but this is because 
Kinsey's female sample was overweighted 
with divorced women, whose extramarital 
rates are higher than those of married 
women; if we rewcight his data to correct 
the imbalance, we find no over-all de- 
«rcase—but no overall increase, cither. 
By the age of 45, for instance, the adjusted 
figure for a (continued оп page 286) 


tongue and tocs to keep the woman 
going—instead of lying back like some 
spent stud—he's likely to discover a few 
things he didn't know about his own 
body's responsive potential, 

Michael 

Altea, Spain 


Бег 


MALE WHO CARES 

I think the woman from Trenton, New 
Jersey (The Playboy Forum, Septem- 
ber 1978), is wrong in saying that in sex- 
ual intercourse only five percent of meu 
care whether or not a woman has an 
orgasm. І believe I'm a typical malc, 
and 1 am willing to devote a great deal ol 
tender, loving care to my partners 
orgasm. 

For example, I once ran into a wom- 
an who, at 25, had never experienced 
n orgasm. I make no claims to being a 
sexual athlete, so by conventional meth- 
ods I couldn't pull her over the finish 
line. She was normally passionate and en- 
joved intercourse up to a point, but then 
her excitement would tend to fade rather 
than mount to а climax. After a few epi- 
sodes like that, T decided to postpoi 
intercourse and devote myself to trying 
to masturbate her to orgasm. Each time 
we did this she seemed to enjoy it a little 
more. 

‘Then one day as 1 was stroking her 
clitoris she built up a big he 
and had her first orgasm. Soon she was 
having one nearly cvery time, And then 
every time, She got to enjoying them so 
much that she'd squirm all over the bed 
and I'd have to hold her down to keep 
my ed er in the right spot. 

From time to time, we tried screwing 
without preliminary masturbation, and 
it wasn't long before she got so she could 
have an orgasm du ary ten-toes- 
upandtentoesdown intercourse, too. 
One day she told me that for the first 
time in her life, she felt like a normal 
After that, our custom was for 
turbate her to cl 
three times, and then we'd screw once or 
twice. Having never had any orgasms be- 
fore, she wanted to make up for lost time. 

"What I did was apply common knowl- 
edge—the value of foreplay im ses 
to a particular situati Our attitude 
was important, too—an amalgam of op- 
timism, pi nd mutual concern. I 
can only guess that the young woman 
from Trenton has had a run of bad luck 
in sexual partners. 

(Name withheld by request) 
Mt. Sterling, Kentucky 


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


61 


THERE IS ONLY ONE JOY...THE COSTLIEST PERFUME IN THE WORLD 


плот mw: HUGH M. HEFNER 


a candid conversation with playboys editor-publisher on our 20th anniversary 


From the moment viaynoy first hit the 
newsstands in December of 1953, it was 
obvious that Hugh Marston Hefner's new 
publication—a 48-page, undated issue 
with a cover and center spread featuring 
Marilyn Моп 'asn't going to be just 
another magazine. It was Hefner's own 
vision of what a men's magazine ought to 
be: а judicious blend of fiction, nonfic- 
lion, humor, art and photography—all 
reflecting a healthy appreciation of the 
opposite sex and of what he called “the 
great indoors" There had never been 
anything quite like it on the market; 
something about it struck a chord with 
the 70,000 readers who made the first 
issue a sellout. Within months, in an 
era in which publishing empires were 
crumbling, rLaynoy was thriving; it went 
on 10 become the industry's biggest post- 
World War Two success. As Time maga- 
ипе commented in a 1967 cover story 
about Hefner: “He was the first publisher 
to see that the sky would not fall and 
mothers would not march if he published 
bare bosoms; he realized that the old 
.. He took the old 
fashioned, shame-thumbed girlie maga- 
zine, stripped off the plain wrapper, 
added gloss, class and culture. It proved 
to be a sure-fire formule.” 

So much so, in fact, that in less than 
a decade, its creator had become not only 


taboos wore going. 


“I enjoy the public's fantasies about the 
way 1 live almost as much as the way I 
really live. And I can't deny being 
amused at the mixed reactions 1 arouse, 
often in the same people.” 


a multimillionaire but the subject of 
countless profiles in other publications. 
He had also become the most flamboy- 
ant practitioner of the affluent, sexually 
uninhibited lifestyle he presented in his 
magazine. During the —while 
Hefner hardly ever ventured out of the 
self-contained total environment he'd 
constructed for himself in his Chicago 
Mansion—the magazine grew into a di- 
versified empire, with a string of Playboy 
Clubs in 19 cities and hotels in Jamaica, 
Wisconsin, New Jersey, Chicago and 
Miami Beach, 

As the decade ended, Hefne me 
out'—with gusto— purchasing the world's 
most luxurious private plane, a custom- 
ized DC-9 he calls the Big Bunny. He's 
used it to lake a number of trips lo 
Europe and Africa and to commute from 
Chicago to the latest addition to his per- 
sonal and corporate world, the Playboy 
Mansion West, a five-and-ahalf-acre es 
tate from which he supervises the com- 
pany's further expansion into films, 
television, records and other areas of the 
entertainment business. 

Despite—or perhaps because of—the 
conspicuous success of the magazine and 
its offshoots, PLAYBOY and its Editor-Pub- 
lisher have been subjected to criticism 
from various quarters. First there were 
the sexual puritans, who were shocked at 


“There is an enemy out there. This 
country—indeed, the whole world—con- 
sists of two opposing forces: us, and those 
who would force their own values and 
attitudes on us.” 


the sight of bare flesh, however tastefully 
displayed. Then came the religious com- 
mentators, who took with “The 
Playboy Philosophy.” As flak from the 
righi died down, it appeared from other 
quarters: the radical left, denouncing 
PLAYHOY's “materialism,” and the shriller 
fringes of the women's liberation move- 
ment, reviling its supposed sexism. Both 
leftists and feminists chose to ignore the 
commitment of the magazinc—and. the 
Playboy Foundation, established in 1963 
as an activist force in the batlle for preser- 
vation of constitutional rights—to the 
very causes they espoused. 

Even more than critics, though, 
PLAYKOY has spawned imitators—most of 
them unabashed rip-offs of whal they see 
as the rıaynoy formula. Some are pros- 
pering, but PLAYBOY. readership, mean- 
while, has continued to climb toward 
an alltime high of some 26,000,000 
monthly—more than the total of all its 
imitators combined. 

With vcavnoy approaching the end of 
ils second decade, we decided to ask our 
Editor Publisher selects all the 
names for this feature—to approve our 
suggestion for the subject of this 126th 
“Playboy Interview." We couldn't think 
of a more fitting occasion than our 20th 
Anniversary Issue for the controversial 
target of so much attention from the 


issue 


eho 


MINDAS 
“They say that imitation is the sincerest 
form of fiattery, so 1 guess I've been 
flattered more sincerely—and more 
blatantly—than any other magazine pub- 
lisher in history.” 


PLAYBOY 


press to speak for himself in the pages of 
his own magazine: discussing what the 
past 20 years have signified to him per- 
sonally, to PLAYBOY and lo its readers, 
and what the next 20 years may hold. Not 
without some rescrvations—which he con- 
fides in the interview—Hefner agreed. 

For this unprecedented assignment, we 
picked free-lance writer Larry DuBois, a 
31-year-old former Time writer and cor- 
respondent whose penetrating “Playboy 
Interviews” with Jules Feiffer, Jackie 
Stewart, Roman Polanski and Jack 
Anderson convinced us that he had the 
experience, ability, tenacity and good 
humor we knew this job would entail. 
We were right about it and him. Here's 
his repon 

“In the Butler Aviation terminal at 
O'Hare airport outside Chicago, where 
the private-plane set is pretty blasé about 
your average limousine, people still snap 
to allention when a huge Mercedes 600— 
license number HITI310—pulls up, and 
when the owner steps out, the place prac- 
tically freezes like а snapshot to watch 
him stride briskly through, followed al- 
most at a trot by a couple of beautiful 
blondes—one his girlfriend, the other his 
highly competent secretary, who's madly 
taking notes as he dictates a memo on 
the fly. 

“A jew hours later, over Los Angeles, 
he and his friends are finishing their last 
game of Monopoly, and as his plane 
zooms in low over the freeway, trafic 
slows 10 a crawl when drivers catch sight 
of that sleek jet-black DC-9 with the Rab- 
bit’s head on the tail. It belongs, of course, 
10 Hugh Hefner; everybody knows that. 
A's the most famous private plane in the 
world, he's the most famous publisher in 
the world and he leads one of the most 
publicized personal lives of anyone in 
public life. 

“Then why do people always ask, 
when they find out you've met him, 
"What's he really like? It's а good ques- 
tion, and the fact that it gets asked so 
often is as good a demonstration as any 
that, while Hefner has managed to make 
his name perhaps as well known as that 
of his magazine, the conflicting stories 
about him have obscured his identity so 
effectively that most people don't have a 
clue to what sort of man he actually is. 
After getting to know him as well as any- 
one but his oldest friends, I still don’t 
have any final answers to that question 
myself, but I can say that in many way: 
he isan even more remarkable figure than 
his legend. And trying to reconcile one 
with the other turned out to be an un- 
forgettable experience. 

“Last March, 1 showed up at Hefner's 
Mansion in Chicago, expecting to be 
there for the first of a couple of two-hour 
interview sessions. I ended up staying six 
months. Pm still not sure exactly how 


that happened. Past of it, I must admit, 
was the irresistible, almost extraterrestrial 
seductiveness of a sybaritic environment 
hermetically sealed from the strife and 
Seasons of the outside world. But the main 
reason I stayed—and stayed—was that I 
realized soon after arriving that this was 
the only way I'd cver walk out with 
an interview I'd want to see published 
anywhere, let alone in Hefner’s own 
magazine. 

“During our first tape session, he re- 
sponded to my questions about the maga- 
zine and its critics with all the facility 
and polish of an uncommonly shrewd 
politician; but it was obvious to both of 
us, I think, that if we went on like this, 
I'd have just another slick interview with 
the thinker and theorist; we'd never pass 
beyond that. He's got a tremendous re- 
serve, I found, and he's not about to sur- 
vender much of himself to a stranger. So 
he invited me to be his guest at the house 
for a while so we could get to know each 
other better. 

“We quickly became friends, and I en- 
joyed myself enormously. Hefner's world 
really is fun. After months of playing 
backgammon and pinball, getting to 
know his friends, feeling the special 
rhythms and patterns of his private world, 
the tone of our interview sessions became 
very personal—somctimes serious, some- 
limes jocular, always enthusiastic and un- 
tiring. ‘Being around Hefner, one of his 
friends had told me, ‘is like plugging 
yourself into an electric socket? He w 
tight. The man is 47, but his energy is 
staggering and he scems to know one 
emotional pitch: flat-out, hard-charging, 
turned on, 

“Some days we'd talk far into the night. 
Other days, when business matters were 
piling up, he surrendered himself totally 
to meetings with executives that turned 
into 24-hour marathons; and when the 
last bunch stumbled away at ten in the 
morning, as likely as not, Hefner would 
make a dash for the game room to ren- 
dezvous with his pals and do a fiercely 
competitive and often raucous six hours 
on the pinball machines before retiring 
to his quarters with a girlfriend. So much 
for the popular notion that beneath all 
the glitter, Hefner must be jaded or 
bored. He's not. 

“Whatever he's into at the moment, his 
powers of concentration are—well—over- 
whelming. Until you've had his atten- 
tion, says one of his old staffers, you've 
never had atlention. His mind is хо quick, 
so totally focused on whatever he's doing 
that if it doesn’t involve you, you might 
as well not exist. One night, а pretty 
young TV correspondent who had inter- 
viewed Hefner carlier in the evening and 
experienced that riveting attention of his 
approached him at the Monopoly table 
10 say good night. For at least a couple of 


minutes, she stood at his side waiting for 
him to look up and acknowledge her. 
Finally, growing uneasy, she tapped hin 
on the shoulder; he jerked his head 
around and practically jumped to his feet 
to shake her hand. It was one of those 
moments that could have been interpret- 
ed as rudeness, but it wasn’t. He'd been 
so involved in that Monopoly game that 
he hadn't even noticed her standing six 
inches away from him. 

“And so it goes. That kind of energy, 
enthusiasm and concentration make him 
an incredibly compelling personality. 
Though none of these qualities has сист 
been explored much by writers who've 
tried to portray Hefner, they shouldn't 
come as a surprise to anyone who's been 
around him longer than an hour. But 
there was one tremendous surprise for 
me, which is a side of him that I hadn't 
seen recorded anywhere, even though I'd 
read everything there was to read about 
him. When he's not serious, the man is 
positively zany. A routine night of play- 
ing games with him is as funny and off- 
the-wall as—and not unlike—a Marx 
Brothers movie. And in a conversation 
with him about, say, that day s Watergate 
news, he offers the same kind of mordant 
satirical perceptions you might expect 
from a Lenny Bruce, who happened to be 
a cherished friend of his. 1 don't think it's 
an exaggeration lo say that if Hefner had 
the kind of personality that opened up in 
a crowd, he could be a very successful 
stand-up comic, 

“But he saves all this for his close 
friends and, believe me, it wasn't easy lo 
get й on lape. Much of what I consider 
the best of our interview sessions, in fact, 
came from questions I asked as a result 
of bantering at the Monopoly table, play- 
ing backgammon, splashing in his Jacuz: 
grotto in Los Angeles, riding in the Mer- 
cedes to and from airports. If he hadn't 
been willing to share those moments with 
me, I wouldn't have been able to share 
them with the reader, 

“As a result, I think you'll be able to get 
some sense, if not of what Hugh Hefner is 
really lihe, then at least of what it's like to 
be around him. 1 think you'll also see 
that it's a forceful, funny, absolutely ex- 
traordinary experience. Like his legend, 
Hefner is larger than life, the kind of 
elusive, contradictory, sometimes madden- 
ing, sometimes just mad genius it те 
quired not only to build a $200,000,000 
business empire and 10 create a prienle 
world thats been called—vather un- 
imaginatively—a ‘Disneyland for adult? 
but also to have an absolute ball playing 
with it all.” 


PlAYbOY: Why are you doing this inter- 
view? 

HEFNER: It seemed like a natural, if 
unique, editorial notion for our 20th 
Anniversary Issue. 


PLAYBOY: Do you have any reservations 
about being interviewed in your own 
magazine? 

HEFNER: Well, I hope it doesn’t seem like 
a man talking to himself when it appears 
in print. 

PLAYBOY: Do you think read: 
Tieve that you agreed to do this without 
any special controls or limitations? 
HEFNER: Certainly. Just don't bring up 


s will be- 


anything that might jeopardize your fur. 
ture as a PLAYBOY contributor. 

PLAYBOY: What could be fairer than that? 
OK, g How 


to start PLAYBOY in the 
first place, and why? 

HEFNER: Well, to really begin at the begi 
ning. I got the journalism bug early. T w: 
publishing my own neighborhood news- 
paper at the age of eight or nine—labori- 
ously typing out cach issue on an old 
Royal—and selling it door to door for a 
penny а copy. As a child. I spent most of 
my spare time writing and cartooning— 
fantastic stuff, filled with mad scientists, 
monsters, supersleuths, space travel, that 


sort of thing. I remember being repri- 
manded by one of my gra 
ers for draw 


ide school teach- 
ing cartoons in class when I 
ing. She sent the 
gs home to my mother with a note 
ng that if I continued to waste my 
time this way in school, I would never 
amount to anything, 

In high school, 1 started drawi 


np a Car- 


toon autobiography called School Daze 
for the amusement of any Фах 


tes, 
which continued after graduation— 
through two years in thc Army and col- 
lege after that—and eventually turned 
into an autobiographical scrapbook that 
I still update from time to time. In the 
Army, I became a magazine bufl—study- 
ing the editorial concepts and contents of 
various publications, By the time I wa 
graduated from the University of Il 
nois—where I drew cartoons for the Daily 
Ші and edited Shaft, the campus humor 
magazine—I knew I wanted to start a 
magazine of my own. The only thing 
wrong with that dream was the money: 
I didn't have any. 

1 tried to sell a couple of comicstrip 
ideas to the newspaper syndicates, but 
they weren't interested, and I wound up 
working as a copy writer in the ad de- 
partment of Carson Pirie Scott for $40 
a week. That led to my next job, as a 
copy writer in the promotion depart- 
ment of Esquire, at $60 a week. I thought 
at would be exciting, because in my 
early teens, Esquire had represented a 
world of urbane sophistication that real- 
ly appealed to me. But the magic I'd 
found in the magazine wasn't present in 
the job. There weren't any Petty Girls 
working at. Esquire. 

PLAYBOY: Is that story true about your 
leaving Esquire because they wouldn't 
give you a five-dollar raise? 


HEFNER: I not only didn't get the raise, the 
head of the promotion department spent 
almost an hour tying to convince me 
that I wasn't a good "company man” to 
consider quitting for that reason. He was 
right. Anyway, Esquire moved to New 

York and 1 started thinking seriously 
bout a magazine of my own. 

The most popular men's magazines of 
the time were the outdooradventure 
books—True, Argosy and the like. They 
had a hairy-chested editorial emphasis, 
with articles on hunting, fishing, chasing 
the Abominable Snowman over Tibetan 
mountaintops. 1 confess that I'm a little 
more urban oriented than that; I'm an 
indoor guy and an incurable romantic, so 
I decided to put together а men's m 
e devoted to the subjects I was more 
nterested in—the contemporary equ 
lents of wine, women and song, thou: 


not necessarily in that order. Esquire had 
changed its editorial emphasis after the 


eli 


most of the lighter ma- 
icrial—the girls, cartoons and humor. So 
the field was wide open for the sort of 
magazine 1 had in mind. 

PLAYBOY: What made a guy like you, from 
a fairly straitlaced Protestant back- 
ground, want to publish a magazine like 
PLAYBOY? 
HEFNER: Perhaps in part it was because of 
my straitlaced Protestant background. 
My parents are wonderful people and 
they instilled in me an idealism for which 
I'm grateful. Ay a kid, T remember being 
moved to tears by such ic movies of 
the Thirties as Mr. Smith Gocs to Wash- 
ington, which dealt with the typical Amer- 
ican theme of one man against society 
fighting for the most b 
ideals, and so I admired the image of an 
onoclastic individual who questions the 
accepted “truths.” But my parents also 


ic democratic 


raised a son whose skepticism of bullshit 
included even the bullshit they them- 
selves accepted; 


ared 


they had been r 
in a very strict, almost puri 
tantism. So at а very early age, I began 
questioning a lot of that religious fool 
ishness about man’s spirit and body bi 

conflict, with God concerned primarily 
with the spirit of man and the Devil 


dwelling in the flesh. 
The Puritans thought they could sim- 


ply repress man’s sexual nature, and they 
reaped a whirlwind as a result. Their 
code of sexual morality—which became 
America’s—was nothing more than a set 
of rules laid down by people who be- 
lieved that all pleasure was suspect. Н. L. 
Mencken defined the puritan as a person 
who is terribly afraid that someone some- 
where is having a good time. That carried 
over into the idea that work was virtuous 
but that enjoyment of the rewards for 
that work might somchow lead to deca- 
dence. I wanted to edit a magazine that 
would express my views on these 


subjects, а ma 
sex and the benefis of materialism, 
ne that tried to put some of the 
play and pleasure back into life. So part 
ly, I guess, I started PLAYBOY as а kind of 
cause. But the other half of it is that pub 
lishing a sophisticated men's magazine 
seemed to me the best possible way of ful 
filling a dream I'd been nurturing ever 
alot. 


PLAYBO: 
HEFNER: Sorry, that just slipped out. 1 
don't know what came over me. 1 remem- 
ber, in the days prior to PLavnoy, walk- 
ing the streets of Chicago late at night, 
looking at the lights in the high-rise 
apartment buildings and very much 
wanting to be a part of “the good life" I 
thought the people in those buildings 
must be leading, I suspect that a. great 
many young men who haven't yet found 
what they want in life have had similar 
feelings, I wanted to be where it was hap- 
pening—whatever жаз. When I fi 
nally found out, of course, it wasn't wi 
J thought it would be; it was infinitely 
better, unbelievably more exciting than 
I'd ever dreamed. But there w 
could guess what was coming when 1 
started the magazine. 

I still didn't have any money, but I was 
27 years old and I was afraid that if T 
didn't try it on my own soon, I might 
have to learn to be à good comp 
Iter all. I went to the bank 
household Ian of 5200; then E went down 
the street to Local Loan and put up my 
furniture as collateral for another 5400. 
Then I went to friends, relatives, friends 
of friends—anyone who'd listen—and 
managed to raise another $3000. A hun- 
dred dollars here, $50 there; I took 
whatever I could get. One writer friend 
contributed an с for the first 
and took his $200 payment in stock. 1 
was probably the most lucrative m: 
article anybody ever wrote. It made him 
a millionaire. 

Anyone familiar with the business 
could have told me that there's no possi- 
ble way to start a major m 
53600, but 1 didn't know 
good thing I didn't have any friends who 
were familiar with the business, As a 
frame of reference, Time, Inc., started 
Sporis Hlustrated about the same time 
I started PLAYBOY, and I understand they 
went through $30,000,000 before it 
turned a profit. If I'd known as much 
about publishing then as I do today, 1 
probably wouldn't have been foolish 
enough to take the chance. Sometimes 
ignorance really is bliss. 

PLAYEOY: Were you confident of PLAYBOY'S 
success from the very beginning? 

HEFNER: On the contrary, I was so uncer 
tain about the magazine's chances that 
the first issue didn't even have a date on 
it. I figured, well, if it doesn’t sell out in 


agazine on 
that dUs a 


65 


PLAYBOY 


the first month, well leave it on the 
stands a second month. I was the entire 
editorial staff; and I didn't have a single 
day of professional editorial experience. 
We printed 70,000 copics of that first 
issue—and sold almost all of them in the 
first couple of weeks. With that initial 
response, I got a small advance from a dis- 
tributor and we were able to print a sec- 
ond issue, and then a third, and so on. 
PLAYBOY was a success, as [ar as ] was con- 
cerned, when I realized it was going to 
produce enough profit to permit me to 
continue publish 
On our first anniversary, 1 remember, 
the employees of the company—seven 
of us by that time—celebrated in a booth 
at а local sandwich shop. I knew we 
were in business to stay, so I picked up 
the check. I still had по idea, of course, 
that in the years ahead гилүзоу would 
become the most successful magazine of 
its time and that the Rabbit would be- 
come famous around the world as the 
insignia of a huge, diversified eny 
Did you know that 1 almost called the 
nagazine Slag Party and the symbol was 
inally going to be a stag? I changed 
my mind just before we went to press, 
thank God. Somehow, it wouldn't have 
been the same. Can you imagine a chain 
of key clubs staffed by beautiful girls 
wearing antlers? 
PLAYBOY: We'd rather not. How do you 
explain Ше magazine's phenomenal 
success? 
HEFNER: I think it was the right idea in 
the right place at the right time. A great 
many of the traditional social and moral 
values of our society were changing, 
PLAYBOY was the first publication to rc- 
flect those changes. We offered an alter- 
nate lifestyle with a more permissive, more 
Jay-and-pleasure orientation. People get 
less sense of identity out of their jobs now 
than ever belore, and with increasing af- 
fluence, how one spends one’s leisure time 
and finds value in it is more important 
than ever. An article in a university quar- 
terly а Гем years ago offered an inter- 
esting comparison of riaynoy and Poor 
Richard's Almanac. Ben Franklin was 
writing a guidebook for coping with life 
when a more frugal, work-oriented pur 
tan ethic was essential to survival in a 
frontier society; PLAYnoy came along and 
offered a new set of ethical values for the 
urban society. The editor 
лувоу came through loud and dear: 
Enjoy yourself. Paul Gebhard. director of 
the Institute for Sex Research, once said 
that the genius of Pravnoy was that it 
linked sex with upward mobility, and 
that’s a sociologists way of expressing 
what Pm tal 
In the y d that, of 
course, rLavnoy has become much more 
than that—more than the embodiment 
of an upwardanobile, pleasure-oriented 
lifestyle, and more than just a magazine 


rs since he 


of “entert nce our 
rather modest beginnings, it's become 
not only onc of thc most popular maga- 
zines in publishing history but also— 
graphically, literarily and journalisti- 
cally—one of the best in the world. Hell, 
s the best. 

It may not surprise you to learn that 
T also think Pravnov is one of the most 
important and influential magazines in 
the world, in terms of the impact it's had 
iot only on sexual morcs but as a cham- 
pion of individual rights. Somewhere be- 
tween our covers—though you look like 
the type that never gets beyond the 
centerfold—you may have noticed that 
we've devoted a great deal of space, in 
articles, in interviews, in The Playboy 
Forum, to championing for others the 
same freedoms and opportunities we're 
lucky cnough to enjoy ourselves. 
PLAYBOY: Have you done anything to 
support these freedoms and opportuni 
tics, apart from advocating them in the 
magazine? 

HEFNER: That's why I started the Playboy 
Foundation, which backs many of the 
same causcs we espouse in the magazine 
especially the ones that are unpopular 
enough to have been left largely una 
tended to by the Government and other 
foundations. We've supported countless 
civil liberties cases, the antiwar move- 
ment, Jesse Jackson's PUSH and other 
civil rights organizations, political reform, 
sex research and education, abortion re- 
form before it became popular, prison 
reform before it became popular, and the 
continuing campaign to reform our re- 
pressive sex and drug laws, as well as 
ny number of cha and community- 
fund efforts. For a long time, we were the 
chief sponsor of the Kinsey Institute and 
the research of Masters and Johnson, and 
right now we're the biggest financial sup- 
porter of the National Organization for 
the Reform of Marijuana Laws, because 
I think making criminals out of people 
who smoke marijuana is very damaging 
to the social fabric of this society. I've 
made the social commitment through this 
and lar foundation fori 

same time; they're the m 
of my stock in Playboy. 
PLAYBOY; The funds for yo 
come from profits on what Life called 
“the house that flesh built." By talking 
only of rLaynoy's editorial and financial 
commitment to social and political causes, 
"t you downplaying the importance of 
nude pictures in the magazine's success? 
HEFNER: I never want to be accused of 
that. I love those ladies. They are, and 
always will be, an integral part of 
PLAYBOY'S total editorial package, just as 
sex should be an integral part of the total 
human experience. рілувоу has tried to 
integrate the crotic and intellectual in- 
terests of its male readers, and that has 
proved to be a far more controvei ad 
misunderstood editorial concept than I 


could have guessed when we began. Even 
as relatively sophisticated a magazine as 
Newsweek has criticized ртАүвоү [or 
marring its otherwise excellent editorial 
content with what it termed а “peck-a- 
boo” interest in sex; but as far as I'm 
concerned, incorporating the two is 
PLAYBOY'S greatest virtue. There's a de- 
contaminating process that takes place 
as a result of the open publication of 
nude pictures of the human body. I'm 
convinced that because of rLavnoy, our 
society suffers from fewer sexual h: 
ups than it did 20 years ago. 

"There are still people, of course, who 
t that they don't think sex is dirty 
but that it ought to remain private, a 
concern of the individual. They fail to. 
understand the nature of human sexual 
ity. If you don't encourage healthy sexual 
expression in public, you get unhealthy 
al expression in private. If you 
itempt to suppress sex in books, maga- 
zines, movies and even everyday conver- 
sation, you aren't helping to make sex 
more private, just more hidden. Youre 
keeping sex in the dark. What we've tried. 
to do is turn on the lights. 
PLAYBOY: But the magazine's nude photog 


raphy has been criticized for encouraging 
not open, healthy sexuality but a voy 


curistic, look-but-don't-touch attitude. 

HEFNER: There's a lovely line in our new 
film, The Naked Ape; “Voyeurism is a 
healthy, nonparticipatory sexual activity. 
Ihe world should look at the world.” We 
are sexual beings, whether we try to deny 
it or not, and open, healthy sexuality re- 
quires that we not be ashamed of our 
own bodies. When PLAYBOY started, most. 
men probably would have been uneasy. 
in the presence of a wife or girlfriend, 
about opening up a magazine with nude 
pictures in it. What pLayuoy has been 
saying is that a person shouldn't feel 
guilty about an open interest in sex 
We've taken some of thc shamc and 
mystery out of human sexuality, 
this kind of repression of our sensual 
interests that has led to the kind of voy- 
sm that makes looking a subsi 
for, rather than a preamble to, touching 
PLAYBOY: Don't you enforce a look-but- 
don't-touch policy in the Playboy Clubs? 
HEFNER: Of course we do. And we've been 
criticized for it by the same people who'd 
shout even louder if we permitted any 
policy. One critic referred to the 
as “a bordello without a second 
floor.” If we permitted members to man- 
handle the Bunnies, we'd have the equiva- 
lent of that second floor, and you don't 
need a vivid imagination to see where 
that would lead. The policy was estab- 


hed for the protection of the Bunnies, 


and we've continued it at their insistence. 
We don't attempt to police their per- 
sonal lives, just keep them separate from 
the operation of the Club. 

ng the magazine, as well 


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PLAYBOY 


68 


as choosing Bunnies for the Clubs, your 
taste in women has been criticized as im- 
mature, showing an almost infantile 
preoccupation with big breasts. 

HEFNER: Well, I can’t deny that І prefer 
big ones to small ones, but to me that's 
rather like saying that 1 prefer girls to 
I'm very suspicious of the pop psy- 
nalysts who suggest that there's 
something infantile about being attract- 
са by those physical characteristics that 
һ the sexes. In fact, 
мау women are built is 10 me, on 
the inspired notions of creation, 
PLAYBOY has unashamedly fought 
asexual image of female beauty long 
projected in the women's fashion maga- 
zines with then -chested, bony ladies. 


ir 
PLAYBOY: It’s been said that PLAYBOY is 
I as on pulchri- 


hung up on youth as wi 

tude, that it's doing a disservice to older 
women by fostering an adolescent taste 
in men for pretty young gi 
HEFNER: Does that mean PLAYBOY would 
be more mature if it ran photos of 40- 
year-old Playmates? If I prefer to publish 
pictures of pretty young women—and I 
do—it seems to me that says less about 
PEAYHOY's maturity or mine than it does 
about our society's emphasis on youth and 
beauty. My taste 
a personal aberration; it happens to 
be shared with some 26,000,000 PLAynov 
readers. PLAYBOY's readers ure no dilfer- 
ent in this regard from the overwhelm- 
ing majority of the male population of 
the world. Since time immemorial, youth 
has set the universal standard of physical 
beauty, and the reason is simply that a 
shapely, firm young face and body are 
more attractive sexually and aesthetically 
than bulges, sags and wrinkles. 

PLAYBOY: The girls you feature in the 
magazine may be too young to have wrin- 
kles, but praysoy has been accused of 
retouching its pictures to eliminate every 
other flaw of nature, thus creating a 
fantasy of female perfection that the 
reader will find unattainable in real life. 
HEFNER: That's simply untrue. We do try 
to pose and photograph our Playmates as 
attractively as possible, but the editorial 
emphasis in PLaynoy has always been on 
feminine beauty that’s both real and nat- 
ural, with a sort of girl-next-door believa- 
bility. They may be better looking than 
the girl who lives next door to you, but 
that’s only because we have photogra- 
phers scouting all over the country for 
lates for our centerfold. We publish 
pictures of beautiful women—the most 
beautiful we can find—because I'm 
reasonably certain our readers would 
rather look at a pretty face and figure 
than a plain one. It’s also healthier, in 
my opinion, to associate the erotic as- 
pects of our photography with images as 
attractive as we can make them. But we 
do relatively litle retouching. As а mat- 
ter of fact, we cosmetize our pictures far 


less thay the women’s magazines do, and 
probably no more than our ladies do 
themselves before they go out on a date. 
PLAYBOY: How about the criticism that— 
until recently—you cosmetized your nude 
pictures by not publishing any that 
sbowed pubic hair? 
HEFNER: Personally. I've always felt that 
this hang-up with body hair was so incon- 
gruous as to be laughable, even though it 
was, and still is for some people, what 
separates obscenity from acceptable erot- 
ict. Is amusing to consider the fetish 
our society has made of pubic hair in 
light of the hang-up the older generation 
has also displayed over the long hair of 
young people. If these foolish fuddy- 
duddies are to be believed. the (all of 
Western civilization is imminent because 
of an excess of body hair. But as society 
began to mature in its ability to accept 
reality, 1 felt we could begin to present 
photography with more realism, and at 
the point when frontal nudity became 
commonplace in both motion pictures 
and the legitimate theater, 1 was satisfied 
that a major part of the public was no 
longer hung up on hair, and we decided, 
carly in 1969, to “go pubic,” as one wit 
pur it 
PLAYBOY: Do you think you made the 
right decision—and at the right time? 
HEFNER: It was certainly the right deci- 
sion, and my feeling that the public was 
ready to accept it turned out to be right. 
The initial reaction was mixed, of 
course; it seemed at first as though we'd 
be damned because we did just as much 
as we'd been damned before because we 
didn't. But thanks to the taste with 
which we've always tried to edit the mag- 
azine, the readers seem to have accepted 
pubic hair in PLAYBOY just as they do on 
their own bodies. It’s about time. 
PLAYBOY: With or without pubic hair, ac 
cording to some members of the women’s 
liberation movement, the girls featured in 
PLAyBoy—particularly the Playmates— 
re treated as sex objects. 
HEFNER: PLAYBOY treats women—and men, 
too, for that matter—as sexual beings, not 
as sexual objects; not as things but as 
people. In this sense, I think, rrAvnov. 
has been an eflective force in the cause 
of female emancipation, Gloria Steinem 
once called me the father of women’s 
liberation, and 1 rather liked that. She 
didn't mean it in the complimentary 
sense, of course, but there’s more truth 
to that interpretation than would 
care to admit. 

As far back as The Playboy Philoso- 
phy, 1 wrote that the major beneficiaries 
of sexual emancipation would be women, 
because they've been the major victims of 
our repressive sexual heritage, which rele- 
gated women to the level of chattel—first 
the possession of their fathers and then 
of their husbands. Female virginity has 


been prized in our society simply because 
an unused possession is valued more high 
ly than a used one. It’s part of our 
Judaco-Christian heritage that women are 
either "good girls or "bad girls’— 
on the basis of their sexual behavior. 
Women have traditionally been either 
put on pedestals or damned as the source 


of all sexual temptation and sin. These 
are two sides of the same coin, since both 
place women in a nonhuman role. 


PLAYBOY has opposed these warped se: 
wal values and, in so doing, helped 
women step down from their pedestals 
and enjoy their natural sexuality 
much as men. 

PLAYBOY: Does that involve their becom- 
ing as sexually aggressive as men? 
HEFNER: Whatever turns them—and their 
men—on. But I'm not suggesting tha 
women become like men. Our deepest 
drives and most fundamental identities 
are rooted not only in our sexuality but 
in the differences between the sexes. It's 
on this point that I part company with 
the more radical members of women's lib 
who suggest that the ideal we should 
strive for is some sort of unises society 
which all cultural and behavioral distinc- 
tions between men and women cease to 
exist. What a drab, unexciting world that 
would be! 

PLAYBOY: Well, no one could accuse 
PLAYboy's Playmates of being indisti 
guishable from men. The trouble is that 
many women find the image of a pinup 
nude dehumanizing. 

HEFNER: The innovation of our Playmate 
pictorials was an attempt to humanize 
the pinup concept. There's a rich tradi 
tion of pinup art in America that goes 
back to September Morn, the Gibson 
girl at the turn of the century, the John 
Held girl in the Twenties and the Petty 
and Varga girls in the Thirties and 
Forties. They were all unreal, highly styl- 
ized projections of erotic male 
Pinup photography followed in the same 
tradition, using movie stars and glamor 
girls of the period—sexual images unat- 
tainable to mere mortals—in unnatural 
poses and artificial studio sets. 

PLAYBOY changed all that. For our 
Playmate features, we choose girls from. 
everyday life—secretaries, college stu- 
dents, stewardesses—instead of 
aloof movie queens or professional mod- 
cls; and we pose them naturally, in real- 
life settings. Accompanying the pictures 
a story about the girl that adds to her 
reality as a person. The entire girl-nest- 
door concept that we created for our 
centerfold was intended to make the 
Playmates more a part of real life for 
our readers. If some people still consider 
it dehumanizing for a woman to appea 
naked in the pages of a men's magazine, 
they're really objecting to the sexual 


airline 


MARCONI, 
MEET SONY. 


Guglielmo Marconi, youd be amazed. The wireless 
you invented could receive only dot-dot-dash. With a lot of 
hiss and crackle. 

This Sony can receive Bach-Bacharach-Beach Boys. 
With hardly any distortion. 

We gave it a big 6' speaker and 5 watts of power (for 
the now sound of the Beach Boys). A resonant hardwood 
cabinet (for the beauty of Bacharach). And a loudness 
control (so no Bach pianissimo gets lost). 

All at a price that would have seemed reasonable to you 
eveninl896. 

No baloney, Marconi. 


PLAYBOY 


70 


connotation in the pictures, and that’s 
just the same old repressive puritanism 
under a different label. 

PLAYEOY: As you know, some feminists 
think that the Bunnies, too, are a male- 
chauvinist creation and that the costume 
is demeaning to the wearer. 

HEFNER: When we first conceived the idea 
for The Playboy Club, we simply wanted 
distinctive costume for the girls who 
ited on our members, and an adapta- 
tion of our already famous Rabbit trade- 
mark seemed logical. The extent to which 
our Bunnies have become known around 
the world suggests that we were right; 
the word Bunny has even entered the 
language as a synonym for a pretty girl. 
PLAYBOY: The [act attractive girls 
are part of a slickly packaged lifestyle/ 
business enterprise convinces many of 
PLAYBOY'S adversaries that you regard 
women, if not as sex objects, then as no 
more Шап ап accessory to "the good 
along with clothes, sporis cars, stereos 
nid penthouse pads, 

HEFNER: Anybody who feels that way ob- 
viously misses the whole point of what 
pravnoy is all about. Far from being an 
accessory to the good life, women—and 
the romantic liaison between them and 
our male readers—are the very point 
and purpose of what PrAvuov espouses as 
a guide for living. The physical accou- 
terments are there to provide the most 
ant possible environment for the 
between two people to 
ce the magazine has al- 
ways been an extension of my own 
dreams fantasies, it shouldn't be too 
difficult to figure out what's most impor- 
tant to me. The fact is that if you could 
find your way to the very heart of Hugh 
Heiner, what you would find is a man 
ated by romance. More than wealth 
and power and whateyer other primary 


wi 


moi 


ns most men have, what lights 
my romantic relationships w 

women. 

PLAYBOY: Haven't most men passed th 


period by the rime they reach their 40s? 
HEFNER: After their 30s, too many people 
“settle down" into a kind of dull, gray 
tediu rationalized as maturity. 
Its an aging process that might more 
ightly be called hardening of the cmo- 
i xteries. It dries up one’s enthusi- 
asm, snufis out our lust for life. When I 
was in college right after the war, there 
was à great resurgence of interest in F 
ott Fitzgerald, and I got very caught up 
in his works, but even then I was struck 
by his downbeat attitude toward middle 
age. There were many aspects of his writ- 
ing 1 could relate to, but I couldn't un- 
derstand that melancholy feeling about 
ile's being downhill after 40. 1 refuse to 
succumb to that. My 40s have been better 
than my 30s, which were fabulous, and I 
expect my 50s to be even better than my 


a 


but in my case 
think the boy was father to the boy. 
PLAYBOY: That boyish ent of 
yours obviously extends ro your relation- 
ships with women. What kind of woman 
are you attracted 10? 

HEFNER: Well, there isn't any one phys 
type, since the most important women in 
come in a variety of shapes 
and sizes: some blonde, some brunette, 
some tall, some short, some big-breasted, 
some smalbbrcasted—believe it or not. 
What really turns me on is a woman who 
Ли, unaffected, enthusiastic, oper 
nd honest What often passes 
cation in our society holds no 
appeal for me whatever 
PLAYBOY: Aren't women. 
ticated  ones—ever put 
reputation? 

HEFNER: Some are, of course, but I'm not 
apt to come in contact with them in the 
PLAYBOY-oriented world I live in. Cur 
ously enough, a great many women are 
attracted to а man who has been rom: 
tically involved with a number of other 
women. There's also something compli 
mentary about being singled out for at- 
tention by а man who has numerous 
lovely ladies to choose from. 

PLAYBOY: Part of the pul 
about you has to do wii 
of your personal relationships with the 
women vou pick as Playmates. Tell us 
about it. 

HEFNER: "here isn’t any casting couch 
volved, if that’s what you mean. I've 
been personally involved with a number 
of our Playmates over the years, but Гус 
never let my personal Ше interfere with 
the editing of the magazine, or vice 
Curiously enough. however, there does 
seem to be a rather high correlation be- 
tween our most popular Playmates and 
those who have been the most important 
to me personally. 

: You're obviously living a life 
ny men relate to in their 
des are often disap- 
danger 


even unsophi 
olf by your 


you'll become jaded? 

No way. If anything, it seems to 
ing the other wa 
more turned on by a romantic relati 
ship today than I would have thought 
possible a few years ago. lm more оре 
more sensually and sexually responsive 
now than at any previous time in my life. 
PLAYBOY: Most of the women we" 
around you are at least 20 years you 
Why? 

For one thing, I simply find 
m more attractive physically than 
women my own age. "There's also some 
thing nice about an aflair that's the first 
rious relation a girl's life: it per- 


around. I'm 


е seen 
7 


mits you to recapture your own early 
omantic responses. It’s а way of holding 
onto your youth and the enthusiasm you 
first felt about life and love. 
PLAYBOY: It's been argued by a number of 
female writers who've written articles 
about you that what you're really doing 
is avoiding more mature women who 
might challenge you more and demand 
more equality in a relationship. 
HEFNER: I don't think an older woman is 
necessarily any more of a challenge than 
a young one. Young people today have 
really got it together—in a way that we 
never did when we were their age. | 
think it’s a mistake to prejudge any rela 
tionship on the basis of the ages of 
the two people involved. Our society's 
condemnation of relationships between 
older women and young men is particu- 
larly strong, and it doesn't таке any 
sense to me at all. I have a secretary who 
happens to be into younger guys right 
now, and I think it's groovy. Each indi- 
vidual has to decide what's right Гог him- 
self or herself, and no one сїзє is really in 
position to make that decision for 
п. Different strokes for different folks. 
But let me also add that I don't go 
looking for any sort of challenge in a ro- 
mance. ] want а woman who comple- 
ments the person I happen to be, not one 
who wants to make me over or demands 
kind of relationship I'm not comfortable 
with. Pm not looking for a female Hugh 
Hefner. A romantic relationship for me 
is an escape from the challenges and 
problems I face in my work. It's a psycho- 
logical and emotional island I slip away 
to—away from the trials and tribulati 
of the rest of my lil 
goes home from the hi 
to a wife or girlfriend w 


ho also gives him 


Im not going to pattern my life after 
some fashionable notion of an emanci 
pated relationship in which both part- 
ners are equal. IE that works for others, 
that’s OK, but it wouldn't work for me. 1 
dmit to being a rather strong-willed 
dividual. I make most of the decisions in 
my life, and I like it that way 

PLAYBOY: Do your girlfriends like it. too? 
HEFNER: If they didn't, they wouldn't 
stick around. But I tend to be attracted 
to the sort of woma n't competi- 
nd doesn’t feel frustrated or resent- 
use she isn't in charge. There are 
great many women around who 
want a man to call the shots. establish the 
nature of the relationship, and so forth. 
"s male chauvinism, so be it. It's the 
1d I don't apologize for it 


who 


ea 
rel 


h individual ought to seek the 
ionship that 


nost satisfies his or her 


needs—with a partner who complements 
him rather than competes emotionally 
PLAYBOY: Surrounded as you are by 
women, there must be a great temptation 
to simply play the field. Yer, over the 
years, you've always had a girlfriend with 
whom you've preferred to spend most of 
your time, Why? 

HEFNER: While variety certainly has its 
own rewards, I’m essentially a sentimen- 
tal, quite sensitive, romantic fellow, and 
I need the kind of emotional rapport 
that's possible only in a longterm 
relationsh 
PLAYBOY: Your most publicized romance 
in recent years has been with Barbi 
Benton. What drew you to her? 

HEFNER: Barbi is something special— 
bright, spirited, with an enthusiasm for 
whatever she's into that’s really quite coi 
tagious. She was a college kid when I mer 
her—a Sacramento girl, straight-A. stu- 
dent, excheerleader, ex-Miss Teenage 
America contestant—who'd gone down to 
Los Angeles to study premed at UCL. 
She was working part timeas a model and 
I met her on the set of our TV show 
Playboy After Dark carly їп the first 
season. 

We started rapping while they were set- 
ting up the lights and cameras to tape 
the next segment, and | invited her to 
come along with me and a few friends to 
the Candy Store, a local discothèque. 
after the show. I already had a date, but 
t night 1 only had eyes lor Barbi. One 
y friends —I think it was Shel Silver- 
i—asked her whether she ever dated 
older men. She said she'd never been out 
with anyone over 21, and I told her that 
was OK: neither had 1, 

So we started dating, but it remained. 
rather casual for a while, because she 
really wasn't sure she wanted to get in- 
volved with a guy with my reputation. 1 
remember the first night I picked her up 
at her college dorm. I pulled up in a 
limousine, which really freaked out her 
girlfriends, and instead of being 
pressed by that sort of status thing, 
she made a point afterward of di 
her own car and meeting me someplace 
else for our dates. I dug that. 

It took a while for the relations| 
get serious; there was a college boyfriend 
in the picture, and she was also geu 
the rush from guys like Jimmy 
once she decided our rel: 

at she wanted, it was wonderful. 

She's a sports nut—an expert. skier, 
swimmer and gvmnast—and I, as I've 
said, am a very indoor guy. I remember 
one trip we took to Acapulco, soon after 
our romance got going, when some of the 
gang decided to go kiting over the bay. 
Naturally, Barbi had to be the first one 
10 try it and, romantic fool that 1 am, 
not to be outdone by my mew girl- 


5 
fricnd, I decided to try it, too. So there 1 


We gave our hest turntables the shaft. 


Ani they're better because ofi. == 
The BSR 810 and 710 have their brains in their 
shaft. A carefully machined metal rod holding eight 
precision-molded cams. When the cam shaft turns, 
ihe cams make things happen. A lock is released, 
an arm raises and swings. a record drops, a platter 
starts spinning, the arm is lowered, the arm stops, 
Ihe arm raises again, it swings back, another record 
is dropped onto the platter, the arm is lowered 
again, and so on, for as many hours as you like. 


Deluxe turntables from other companies do much 
the same thing, but they use many more parts— 
scads of separate swinging arms, gears, plates, and 
springs—in an arrangement that is not nearly as 
mechanically elegant, or as quiet or reliable; that 
produces considerably more vibration, and is much 
more susceptible to mechanical shock than Ihe 
BSR sequential cam shaft system. 


When you buy a tumtable, make sure you get 
ihe shafL The BSR 710 and 810. From the world’s 
largest manufacturer of automatic turntables. 


RSR (USA) Lid. 
Elauvelt, New York 10913 


DEAR PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


[Р icase seule something. My friends say that instead of buying PLAYBOY 
every month at the newsstand I should simply buy a subscription. Then, they 
say, I'd be sure never to miss an issue. And, I'd save money because a one-year 
subscription is just $10, a $3 saving ОЙ the single-copy price. Can they be right? 
—J.D. 

Lucky is the man with wise friends. Yes, it’s all true. And it's so easy to 
subscribe. Just complete and return this coupon. 


¦ PLAYBOY 


Playboy Building, 919 N. Michigan Avc., Chicago, Illinois 60611 
Please enter my subscription to PLAYBOY for: 

©) 

[O 2 years 518 (save $8 olf $26 single-copy price) 


[ З years $24 (save $15 off $39 single-copy p 


[O 1 year $10 (save $3 off $13 
E] Bill me later. 


ingle-copy price) 


D Payment enclose: 


CT 


E] Charge to my Playboy Club credit Key no. 


EE 


Name 


{plese print) 


Address 


City State Zip 


0.5 


U.S. Poss. Can 


Rates and € 


71 


PLAYBOY 


72 


was, high above Acapulco Bay, hanging 
onto that kite for dear life, wondering if 
the motorboat that was pulling the kite 
would be able to put me down safely on 
the little raft where I'd started. From 
that height, the raft looked about the size 
of a postage stamp, and I can't swim а 
stroke. Fucking incredible! 

PLAYBOY: You must have been crazy, 
HEFNER: Love-crazy..My life is too sweet to 
be risking it with such daredevil foolish- 
ness, but there 1 was, just the same. The 
only other time I got involved in such a 
dangerous sport was when I was in col- 
lege. I learned to fiy, got my pilot's li- 
cense and spent one summer learning to 
do stunts in a Stearman trainer—doing 
stalls, spins, loops, Immelmanns, every- 
thing. But even then, I never went stunt. 
flying over any lakes. 

PLAYBOY: There's also been considerable 
publicity recently about your concur- 
rent relationship with Playmate Karen 
Christy, who Chicago Man- 
sion. Time reported, "Long a two-of- 
everything consumer, Hefner has lately 
extended the principle to his romantic 
ic... . Somehow the arrangement con- 
tinues to work.” Does it? 

HEFNER: Not as well as it did before the 
press started playing around with it. 
Some of the gossip columnists in. Holly- 
wood have made it sound as though 
Barbi is being replaced, which isn’t the 
case at all. 

к\лтвот: Isn't any involvement with 
more than one girl at a time bound to 
cause complications? 

HEFNER: It depends on the relationships 
T think, and what sort of understanding 
you have with the girls involved. There's 
always the chance of someone's being 
hurt in any romantic situation, and if 
you care about the feelings of others, that 
can produce conflicts and tensions—some 
of them self-imposed, some imposed 
by circumstances. Tm aware that any 
woman with whom I'm involved may 
haye needs or desires that are different 
from my own, and when that happens, 
you have to adjust the relationship 
accordingly. 

PLAYBOY: Does the subject of marriage 
ever come up? 

HEFNER: Occasionally. 

PLAYBOY: How do you handle it? 
HEFNER: By simply being open and honest 
about 
being preceded by my reputation, which 
nnounces that Im not apt to be getting 


married in the near future and that my 


lifestyle isn't apt to dramatically change 
as a result of any new relationship. So in 
most cases, a girl has different expecta- 
tions with me than she might with anoth- 
er man, and that makes it easier for me 
to avoid disappointing her. 

You know, I tried marriage once a 
long time ago, right after I got out of col- 


lege, and I took the idea of being mar- 
ried very seriously. I don't enter into 
anything halfheartedly. I expected to be 
m 'd to the same woman the rest of 
my life, but even then the misgivings 
were there, the fecling that something 
was missing: I knew it was less than what 
I really wanted, but 1 thought that was 
one of those things you had to settle for. 
My marriage was like the jobs 1 had be- 
fore I started PLAvBov—the kind of com- 
promises most of us make in the adult 
world. And, like those jobs, the marriage 
wasn't a happy experience, 

It had nothing to do with Millie, my 
ex-wile. She's a great lady. We're still close 
friends and we have dinner together reg- 
ularly with our two children: our daugh- 
ter Christie, who's a Phi Beta Kappa at 
Brandcis; and our son David, who'll be 
graduating from high school this June. It 
ns out Hefner's а family man. How 
about that? T sure Jove those two kids. 
But when the marriage was over, I felt 
Tike I had broken out of prison. J ob- 
viously wasn't ready for marriage dhen, 
and maybe I never will be. 
PLAYBOY: Is it even a pos: 
HEFNER: ОГ course. But I do enjoy the ad- 
tages of bachelorhood without most 
of the disadvantages. 1 don't have to do 
my own cooking and cleaning, and I 
don't have very many lonely nights. I'm 
not saying my lifestyle is the one that's 
right for everybody. There are legitimate 
reasons for geuing married; but there are 
also legitimate reasons for mof getting 
married, and in my сазе, those are rather 
dominant. I have this keenly developed 
sense of personal freedom, a portion of 
ve up when you 
accept the responsibilities that go with 
marriage. It would mean that I'd be liv- 
ing much of my lile according to а pre 
conceived set of expectations that—at this 
time, at Ieast—I'm not willing to accept. 
1 think most people wind up living their 
lives according to other people's expec- 
tations and forgetting about what it is 
they really want for themselves. All that 
would drive me up a tree. 

PLAYBOY; In other words, you're selfish, 
HEFNER: Everyone is, and should be. It’s 
just that we all have different ways of ex- 
pressing our sell-concern—some of it en- 
lightened and some of it hurtful—to 
ourselves and to others, as well as to soci- 
ety at large. “This above all: To thine 
own self be true, and it must follow, as 
the night the day, thou canst not then be 
false to any man.” I think there's consid- 
erable merit in that, and it was a favorite 
quote of mine as I was growing up. 

I expressed some of my views on en- 
lightened self-interest in The Playboy Phi 
losophy, and some of the critics claimed 
I was advocating a form of selfish hedon- 
ism, which isn't the case at all. What 
Tm saying is that every one of us needs 


a personal sense of identity and selt- 
worth in order to function satisfactorily 
in society. If you haven't worked out your 
own needs, how can you successfully deal 
with anyone else's? If you don't like 
yourself, you're not going to be able to 
like those around you. As one who has 
learned to like himself just fine, I think 
Ive taken an important step in getting 
myself together as a person. It's amazing 
how, once you take that step, a lot of the 
need to throw your weight around disap- 
pears, because if you're content with who 
you are, you don't need хо prove any: 
thing—to yourself or to your subjects. 
Playboy: Right, Hel. 

HEFNER: One of my little jokes. 

PLAYBOY: Then why did you make us kiss 
your Playboy ring when we arrived at the 
Mansion’ 

HEFNER: 1 heard you've got a kinky thing 
for jewelry. 

PLAYBOY: The public has heard, in nu- 
merous stories about your personal life, 
that you have a Kinky thing for a lifestyle 
that's one continuous round of dham- 
pagne and caviar, communal sex with 
wall-to-wall women, water beds, baby oil, 
vibrators, mirrors on the ceiling and 
video-tape equipment for instant replay. 
HEFNER: Sounds OK. But you ought to 
come to one of my wild parties. 

PLAYBOY: Frankly, in the weeks we've 
spent at both Mansions, we haven't seen 
anything wilder than a couple of your 
pet flamingos humping on the lawn in 
LA. 

HEFNER: Sorry I missed that. But for real 
excitement, you should take a dip in the 
fish pond when the carp are spawning. 
You know, Art Buchwald, who's a friend, 
once wrote a very funny column about 
the first time he stayed at the Chicago. 
Mansion. He had all these wild expecta- 
tions, and he described how he ended up 
spending all night playing gin rummy 
with me 
downst 


md some of the guys. He went 
airs to the pool, he said, and it was 
empty. He checked the steam room and 


there, barely visible through the haze, w 
what he thought must be one of the Bun- 
nies who live in the house. It turned out 
to be Shel Silverstein, 

Buchwald spoofed the Playhoy mys- 

tique, but other reporters have seemed 
genuinely disappointed not to find a 
full-scale orgy taking place in the ball- 
room on their arrival. They've dismissed 
the tales of revelry in the Mansion and 
attempted to create an image of Hefner 
as a square rather than а sybarite. 
PLAYBOY: Which image is the true one? 
HEFNER: The truth is somewhere in be- 
tween. 
PLAYBOY: You have two dozen Bunnies 
ing in the Chicago Mansion, plus visit- 
ing Playmates and others aspiring to be 
Playmates or posing for various pictorials 
for PLAvmoY. Doesn't that create any 
problems? 


HEFNER: Nothing we can't handle. 
PLAYBOY: Guests who stay at the Man- 
sion—celebrities, writers working on as- 
signments for the magazine, personal 
friends—must expect some fun and 
games with these girls. 

HEFNER: Gloria Steinem did an article- 
interview on me for McCall's a couple of 
years ago in which she described a writer 


arriving at the Mansion being asked by a 
pLaynoy executive if he would like a 
Bunny sent to his room. A few minutes 
ter, the executive supposedly called the 
er's room and asked, “Well, how was 


she? 
My male guests usually know me well 
enough to be tever hap 
pens in the house is a matter of al 
initiative and the personal preferences of 
the people involved. The sort of imper 
sonal exploitati the story 
ign to me. 


That was a complete bibrication 


ware that wh 


in McCall's is completely for 
It's simply not my style 
PLAYBOY: Do you find that that sort of 
misrepresentation occurs very often in 
stories about you and pLayuoy? 

HEFNER: I think writing about rraynoy 
and the lifestyle of its publisher is rather 
like a Rorschach test. Our society suffers 
from so many hang-ups related to the en- 
joyment of sex and materialism that writ- 
ers frequently produce pieces that are 
more 3 projection of their own preju 
dices and fantasies—or those of their 
readers—than they are about us. 
PLAYBOY: In an article for Esquire, Rust 
Mills marveled at the private world 
you've managed to create for yourself—a 
controlled environment in which, in con- 
trast to the world outside, everything 
works. Is he right? 

HEFNER: Nothing always works. But mine 
comes about as close as humanly possible 
for a total environment as complex and 
ambitious as the one I've created. Hills 
saw that the Playboy Mansion is more 
than just an elaborate pleasure palace 
it’s a place in which 1 can both work and 
play without unnecessary interruptions 
or inconvenience. Man is the only animal 
able of controlling his environment, 
and what I've created is a private world 
that permits me to live my life without 
a Jot of the wasted time and motion that 
consume a large part of most people's 


lives. 

The man who has a job in the city and 
а house in the suburbs is losing wo or 
three hours a day simply moving himself 
physically from where he lives to where 
he works and back again. Then he has to 
energy to go out for 
lunch in some crowded restaurant, where 
he’s more than likely dealt with in a 
rushed and impersonal fashion. He's liv 
ing his life according to a preconceived 
notion—certainly not his own—of what 
айу routine ought to be. I've elimi 
nated that problem by having my office, 


take the ише a 


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After checking into one of 
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PLAYBOY 


919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


PLAYBOY 


74 


personal staff and a conference room here 
on the premises. In addition, I have a 
video-phone hookup with the Playboy 
Building a few blocks away, which permits 
me to hold instant minimcetings with fel- 
low Playboy executives when necessary. 
"rhe details of most people's daily regi 
men ure dictated by the dock. They eat 
breakfast, lunch and dinner at a time 
generally presc al custom. 
They work during the day and sleep at 
night. But in the Mansion it is, quite 


it to be. I happen to be a n 
so if I want to begin my day in the late 
afternoon, 1 often do, 1 can. The 
round-the-clock services of the Mansion 
permit me, or any of my guests or any of 
the Bunnies, to order breakfast at mid- 
night or dinner at noon if we wish. 
With our video-tape equipment, I can 
watch a TV special when it’s actually 
aired or the following day, if 1 prefer. A 
pool table, pinball machines and other 
electronic games in the game room, a 
bowling alley, gym, swimming pool and 
steam room are all available to anyone in 
the house at any time of day or night. We 
also have a library of feature films on 
nd for our guests that ranges from 
isney to Deep Throat. Norman Mailer 
observed, after staying at the Chicago 
Mansion, that it was like being in a 
spaceship “outward bound and timeless,” 
nd I think that captures the feeling of 
the place very nicely: 
PLAYBOY: Isn't your fascination with fancy 
electronic gear more than а matter of 
personal convenience? In one interview, 
you were quoted as saying, “Neat to 
beautiful women, 1 like gadgets best.” 
HEFNER: Next to beautiful women, I like 
iul women's gadgets best. The elec- 
pment simply makes life more 
enjoyable as well as more efiicient—pro- 
ling everything I need for work and 
ay right here at my finger tips. OK, I 
admit that I'm also inuigued with the 
James Bondian gadgetry that can en 
hance any man's mid-20th Century life- 
style. But where Bond used his gadgetry 
for death and destruction, mine is in- 
tended for living and loving. 
PLAYBOY: Tom Wolfe called your ultimate 
gadget—that rotating, vibrating circul 
bed—"the center of the Playboy world. 
Is it? 
HEFNER: It's certainly the center of my 
world when I'm in Chicago, since I work 
in it, play in it, cat and sleep in it. 
PLAYBOY: Is there really any advantage to. 
a round bed? 
HEFNER: Well, it gives me something to do 
with all those round sheets in the linen 
closet. 
PLAYBOY: Much of the control you exer- 
cise over your environment—including 
the electronic gadgetry that's built into 
and around your bed—has been made 


possible only by the technolog 
vances of the past 20 years. 

"s true. And I think thit 
asingly, others will be applying ad- 
vances in electronic technology to the 
same ends. Marshall McLuhan predicted 
improved methods of electronic 
communication will make it possible for 
more people to avoid the inconvenience 
of separating where they work from 
where they live and to turn their homes 
into electronic entertainment complexes. 
Our homes will become the centers for 
most of our ies. In that respect, I 
suppose you might say that the controlled 
ronment of the Playboy Mansion is 
the shape of things to come. But you're 
going to have to find your own Bunnies, 
PLAYBOY: Why is control so important 
to you? 

HEFNER: I'd like to hear the arguments on 
the other side. What virtues are there in 
being without control? One of the great- 
cst sources of frustration in contempo- 
rary society is that people feel so 
powerless, not only in relation to what 
happens in the world around them but 
in influencing what happens in their 
own lives. Well, I don't feel that [rustra- 
tion, because I've taken control of my 
life—and I'm even lucky enough to have 
some influence outside it as well. 

PLAYBOY: Some people might wonder 
whether it's possible to get the most out 
of life when the private world you've 
created seems to cut you off from so 
much of the rest of it. 

HEFNER: Physical insulation isn't the same 
psychological isolation. A private 
world that manages to minimize wasted 
time and motion actually permits greater 
attention to individual interests and mat- 
ters of greater importance. During one 
period in the Sixties, when I rarely ven- 
tured outside the Chicago Mansion, I 
developed a reputation as a Howard 
Hughes-style recluse. We've both chosen 
to live in sel contained, separate physi- 
cal worlds, but Hughes has purposely cut 
himself off from all contact with other 
people, and the Playboy Mansion was 
conceived as an environment in which I 
could more readily enjoy the company of 
others. 

When гтлувоу first started, I was a fa- 
miliar part of the social scene on Chica- 
go's Near North Side. Then the magazine 
began growing so rapidly and I got so 
totally immersed in it that I found it 
more convenient to live at the office than 
to go home to an apartment. That ar- 
rangement worked for a while, but by 
the end of the Fifties Td decided I need- 
ed a place to escape to when the work 
was done—a house elegant and elaborate 
enough to make me want to leave the of- 
fice routine occasionally, and that turned 
out to be the first Playboy Mansioi 

The concept worked so well that with- 


in а year I was doing almost everything 
in the Mansion. I moved my office and a 
secretary in and, with the arrival of the 
Bunnies, my social life was increasingly 
concentrated there, too. The house soon 
became a favorite hangout for friends, as- 
sociates and visiting celebrities. Instead 
of going out for a few drinks in some 
crowded, smoke-filled bar, we relaxed 
and rapped in front of the fireplace in 
the main room, ordered our favorite food 
and drink from kitchen and bar fa 
ities superior to most of the res 
in town, played pinball or pool 
game room, took a swim or a stcam, or 
wound in the romantic comfort of the 
underwater bar, which can be reached 
most easily by sliding down a fire pole 
from the floor above. The pole was typical 
of the playful innovations T introduced 
as a contrast to the grand turn-of-the-cen- 
tury elegance of the house. Such a place 
should also have secret passageways, I 
figured, and since there weren't апу, I 
added them. The Mansion ended up 
working so well that going out came to 
seem like a useless exercise. What the hell 
was it I was supposed to go ont for 
PLAYBOY: Perhaps to visit places that 
couldn't be brought to you. 

HEFNER: Places hold no interest for me. A 
friend recently suggested driving up 
from L.A. to San Simcon, the old Hearst 
caste. He thought I might be interest 
in seeing how another famous editor- 
publisher had lived. But I doi 
Hearst, and the grandeur of his old do- 
main is now something for the tourists 
What I'm interested in is rela 
with people. Visiting the most beautiful 
or historic spot in the world would have 
no meaning for me unless it were shared 
with someone 1 cared about. Visiting 
Paris just to sce the sights would bore me. 
But if a girl I was romantically involved 
with were there and couldn't come to me, 
Id yo hallway around the world to be 
with her. 

PLAYBOY: During the Sixties, when you 
spent virtually all of your time in the 
Chicago Mansion, didn't you ever feel 
ike just taking a stroll around the block 
or a drive in the country? 

HEFNER: When I felt like it, I went out. 
Irs that simple. Obviously, I didn't feel 
like it very often, because there were 
often weeks, and sometimes months, 
when I didn't go out at all. I remember 
one winter, Chicago had a record snow- 
fall. I thought that was too good to miss, 
and since I couldn't bring it inside—at 
least not without melting—my girl and I 
took a midnight walk and wound up 
building a snowman in front of the Man- 
sion. When we got back, we learned that 
the news had spread through the house 
like there'd been a prison break—"Hef's 
gone out! Hef's gone ош!" There were a 
Jot of jokes of that sort—even around 


ral Wine & Spirits Co., NYC, ВО proof 


Ronrico , 
the rum with 
the bright 
taste has its 
own gift box. 


£ 
2 

A 

7 


riboro Red or Longhorn 100’s— —' 
~ “you get a lot to like. ч 


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


but life is al- 
I'm painfully 
Yt enough 
the 
Es 


here—about my lifestyle, 
ways a matter of choices 
are that there simply 
c in one short life to do all 
ags 1 want to do, so I've tried to el 
te the distractions, inefficiencies and 
conveniences thar get in the way of 
whatever I'm doing. Thar 

the house is all about. 
PLAYBOY: Then what made you decide, in 
the late Sixties, to widen your horizd 
build your pri ne, take trips, buy 
your West Coast Mansion? 

HEFNER: [ think a lot of men be; to re. 
evaluate the pattern of their lives i 
their middle years, whether they're m 
ried or single, successful or unsuccessful, 
and I decided that what had worked very 
well for me earlier in the decade wasn't 
sfying any longer. 1 was fortunate 
nough to be able to dramatically change 


PLAYBOY 


really what 


hat’s another example of the impor 
tance of staying in control of your lif 
The company had grown so big that onc 
п could no longer hold onto the reins 
as tightly as I had. I began to delegate 
i t of authority to my 
key executives, and that wasn't easy, be- 
cause Playboy has always been such a 
enterprise. 
reed to host a new TV series, 
Playboy After Dark, to be taped in Los 
Angeles, because I knew that would force 
me out of the house and into new areas 
of activity. In addition to its obvious 
promotional values, the TV show 
intended as a first step in Pl 
Enterprises West Coast diversifi 
10 moti i 


yboy 
ion 


plane to provide prompt, comfor 
transportation between our Chicago head- 
quarters and our 
throughout the country 
the world. 

The plane is a Ic 
concept behind the house: We ordered a 
stretched version o from Douglas 
crat, with l gas tanks to 
give it intern nd had 
a custom interior designed that turned it 
to an айо ment. In that way, 
whatever time is spent in transportation 
isn't wasted, since 1 cin do anything 
aboard the Big Bunny that I do in the 
Playboy Mansion. Well, almost anythi 
We don't 1 swimming pool or a 
bowling alley on the planc. 

Id had an apartment on top of the 
Playboy office building in Los Angeles 
1 years, but with more of our ac- 


enterprises 
1 the res 


of 


house. What I fou 
з I had envisioned—an elegant 
һ Tudor home, set on five and a 
cres of ground just a block and 

а half from Sunset Boulevard in Holmby 
7g Hills, that became Playboy Mansion 


West. T now spend almost as much timc 
there as I do in Chicago. 
PLAYBOY: What's the attraction? 
HEFNER: I don't think anything 1 could 
say would adequately describe the place. 
The main building was inspired by a 
mansion England called Holmby 
House: it's built of stone, with slate roofs 
and The grounds ave 
handsomely i roll 
а variety of uces, plans and flowers 
what is reputed to be the largest redwood 
forest in Southern California. We added 
is court and a se g pool, with 
adjoining ponds and waterfalls, and i 
troduced exotic varieties of fish. birds 
als as а finishing touch. It 
s the Chicago Mansion, but 


leaded w 


ater 


even more impressive because of the ele- 
gance of the lecture and the grounds, 
Th te guesthouse, à green- 


house me house, with an outdoor 


b; done in the same 


t can be 


built. as a part of the pool, tl 
mered by swimming through a water 
nd includes an elaborate series of J 
cui baths that arc enjoyed more as a 
1 activity than for their 
In short, the West 
itable Shangri-La, 
and rumor has it that you really do start 
bly after leaving the 


percept 
grounds. 

PLAYBOY: As a guy who carned rather than 
inherited his money—who started out as 
a middledass working sil don't you 
ever take a look around you at all this in- 
and wonder if it's too 
"s all a dream 
nd irll all be 


credible luxury 
good to be true, feel that 
and maybe yoi 


gone? 
HEFNER: ] still have certa sense of 
wonder at all that's happened. but that 


adds to my enjoyment of it, I don't think 
Til ever become jaded by the success or 
the life I'm leading: it’s simply not my 
mature. As а mater of fact, E feel like a 
kid in the world’s biggest candy store. 
PLAYBOY: Must you be so | 
HEFNER: I could р 
I'm having too good a time. PI 
cool, affecting that hip sense of wea 
with it all that’s so fashionable these days, 
would be foreign to me. If my enth 
strikes some people as unsophisticated, 
that’s their problc 
PLAYBOY: A good deal of your c 
is directed, during your leisure hours, 
toward games—backg: 
pinball, cards and a dozen other such 
pastimes, Why? 

HEFNER: When I finish with my work, I 
с to lose myself in games of v 
kinds with friends. И my game playing is 
enthusiastic, it’s because that’s the way E 
approach almost everything I do. I enjoy 


ing it 


mon, Monopoly, 


ious 


the competitive nature of game playing, 
as well as the social contact that goes 
with it, Most of my friends are serious 
game players, too. Backgammon is what 
we're really into now, as you know. 
great gamc—relatively simple in concept 
and easy to learn. but qu 
in its strategy once you begin to really 


e sop 


get involved in it. Its 
morc excit 

like cards, it’s played on 
a board wher sce the 


moves—with the opportunity for consid. 
erable interplay- 

A couple of friends 
started 
Pips—atter the 1 
on the board 


(d 1 recently 
п LA. called 


where 


you 
pieces—and the major appeal of the cl 


move your 


long with an excellent res 
and discothèque, is backgammon. Pips 
become, in the few short months since it 
opened, the most popular celebrity ha 
out in town, just as backg: 
come the most popular р; 
PLAYBOY: You said most of your friends 
game players. Being serious 
about games seems a contradiction in 
terms. Isn't it rather frivolous to devote 
as much time and energy as you do to 
that sort of th 
HEFNER: The ability to enjoy such frivo- 
lous pastimes is part of what life ought 10 
be all about. The notion that work 
dally redeeming, but that play isn’t, is 
a hangup that still persists in our 
сту. Alter the meetings, dictation and 
editing are done, I'm ready to relax and 
play—whether irs in my rotating bed or 
the game room with the gang 


amon has be- 


are serious 


PLAYBOY: Or in your rotating bed with 
the gang? 

HEFNER: You've been peeping. 

PLAYBOY: Your guest registers at both 
Mansions read like the proverbial Who's 


Who of show business, sports, polities 


journalism, ап, sc law and even 
religion. De you consider yourself a 
celebrity buff? 

HEFNER: Unashamedly so. But most of us 
are, no matter what degree of success 
we have achieved. 1 grew up in the 
‘Thirties and Forties, and film stars were 
my idols as а kid, so the celebrities of 


show business have special meaning for 
me. They're the closest thing Americans 
ve to royalty, and the biggest of them 
enjoy much the same prestige. 

PLAYBOY: Among the celebrities you've 
ed are George McGovern, Ringo 
т, Rudolf Nureyev, John Kenneth 
braith, Liz Taylor, Timothy Leary, 
alph Nader and Linda Lovelace. What 
do you have in common with such a 
diverse list of people? 

HEFNER: Some are close friends who stay 
at the house whenever they're in town. 
Others are just casual acquaintances 1 


The first true rosé wine was produced in France. 
The best still is. 
Vive la Nectarose. 


LECTABLE NECTAROSE, AMERICA'S MOST POPULAR FRENCH ROSE 
IS INEXPENSIVELY IMPORTED BY BROWNE VINTNERS COMPANY. NEW YORK. NY. AND SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA 


PLAYBOY 


80 


know socially or with whom I share some 
commo: terest. In. terms of common 
interest, I remember an evening of serious 
conversation with the Reverend Martin 
Luther King, Jr. and fellow clergymen 
Bishop John Robinson, Dr. Harvey Cox 
and the Reverend Jesse Jackson. Jesse 
has become a close friend in the years 
since King's death, and the Mansion is 
something of a sanctuary for 1 
he feels the need to get away from it all. 
On another occasion, about a year be- 
fore his marriage to Miss Vicki on the 
Tonight Show, Tiny Tim spent a nervous 
evening here asking my advice on women. 
He obviously didn’t take it. 
PLAYBOY: The Rolling Stones stayed for 
four days at the Chicago Mansion during 
their last American concert tour, What 
can you tell us—for publicat: 
that legendary visit? 
HEFNER: Mick and the boys spent most of 
th ne with us conversing on impor- 
tant social issues of the day over brandy 
in the library. And for relaxation, we 
yed a few games of chess. 


HEFNER: Won't buy that, eh? Well, let's 
just say that a good time was had by all— 
starting in my Roman Bath and ending 
four nights later with an impromptu con- 
cert by the Stones and Stevie Wonder in 
the ballroom. When the tour was over, 
the Stones told the press that the high 
point of their eight weeks in America 
had been the time they spent at Hefner's 
house in Chicago. 

PLAYBOY: Does that kind of informal con- 
cert happen often? 

HEFNER: Well, Buddy Rich is a guest 
the Chicago Mansion whenever he's 
town, and one evening he brought his 
entire band over as a surprise. They set 
up their standsat one end of the ballroom 
and did an entire show for us. On another 
evening, we were throwing a party for 
Ssome visiting dignitaries from Morocco 
when the entire cast of Hair came in 
singing Aquarius. They wound up naked 
in the pool doing most of the score 
from the show. 

Most of the musical moments at the 
Mansions aren't that elaborate, of course. 
Harry Nilsson entertained us around the 
piano with several of his songs at a party 
last New Year's Eve. Tony Bennett did 
the same thing on a different occasion. 
Shel Silverstein—who is one of my closest 
friends and stays at one of the Mansions 
as much as he does on his own houseboat 
in Sausalito—regularly regales the Bun- 
nies with his songs, a number of which 
have been inspired by incidents that took 
place here. 

PLAYBOY: Including Freakin’ at the Freak- 
ers Ball? 

HEFNER: No comment. 

PLAYBOY: Tom Jones has been an occa- 
sional guest of yours; has he ever per- 


formed at either Mansion? 
HEFNER: Not musically. 
PLAYBOY: Got any more hot items for the 
gossip columnists? 

HEFNER: Well, let's sec. I don’t want to 
compromise Chuck Percy's reputation, 
and I don't know what this may imply 
in terms of his Presidential chances in 
1976, but on a recent visit to the Chicago 
Mansion, the Senator challenged me to 
a game of ping-pong—and lost deci 


story we 
HEFNER: Oh, no? Well, Masters and John- 
son, the noted sex researchers, spent a 
t here prior to their marriage, and 
they stayed in separate—but adjoining— 
bedrooms. Norm Mailer and Budd 
Schulberg once spent a long weekend in 
the same two adjoining rooms, but their 
relationship didn’t work out quite as 
well On the second night, I d to 
referee a verbal bout that threatened to 
turn physical. When Mailer invited 
Schulberg to step outside for some old- 
fashioned fisticuffs, Budd—the soberer of 
the two—declined with the obseryation 
that he had once refused to fight with 
Hemingway, and if he hadn't fought 
Hemingway, he wasn't going to lower 
his standards now and fight with Mailer. 
Most of the time around here, though, 
it's make love, not war. Warren Beatty, 
another noted sex researcher, spent a 
considerable amount of cine at the Cl 
cago house when we were both 
involved in the McGovern campa 
I sec him more regularly now at the L.A. 
Mansion, where he can usually be found 
heading in the general direction of the 
Jacuzzi, being a well-known lover of 
water sports, 
PLAYBOY: Yevgeny Yevtushenko, the Ru: 
ian poet, stayed at the Chicago Mansion 
during onc of his visits to America. Did 
you get along? 
HEFNER: Well, we spent several hours de- 
bating the relative merits of our two 
systems of government. But he departed 
early the next morning, disgruntled be- 
cause he hadn't been able to interest 
any of the Bunnies in further cementing 
Soviet-American relations, 
PLAYBOY: You haven't mentioned the big 
parties you throw for a few hundred 
friends every week or so in either Chi 
cago or Los Angeles. Do the stars come 
to gaze at one another on these occasions? 
HEFNER: And at our Bunnies, and at the 
Playmates—and vice versa. Bu 
gest turnouts—in terms of show-business 
celebrities, at least—are the popular 
closed-circuit telecasts of sporting events 
that I host several times a year. Last 
summer in the L.A. house, we screened 
a Muhammad Ali fight, and half the male 
stars in town were there, plus a few fe- 
male fans as well. Groucho Marx and 


our big- 


George Raft were on hand, representing 
the old Hollywood: Bill Cosby, Jac 
Nicholson, Burt Bacharach, Joe Namath, 
Jim Brown, Tony Curtis, Bob Culp, 
David Steinberg, Jimmy Caan, John 
Derek, Clint Eastwood, the ever-popu 
Warren Beatty, Harry Nilsson with Sally 
Kellerman, Ryan O'Neal with Ursu 
Andress, Don Adams with Don R ickles— 
everybody was there. Tommy Smothers 
looked around at the room of familiar 
faces and said, “If somebody set off a 
bomb in here tonight, you'd have to start 
show business all over aga 
PLAYBOY: In another interview, you said 
you enjoy your reputation almost 
much as you do your lifestyle. What did 
you mean? 
HEFNER: I meant that I enjoy the public's 
fantasies about the way I live almost as 
much as the way I really liye, And I can't 
deny being amused at the mixed re 
tions I arouse, often in the same people. 
Even if they put me down, they ea 
They want to know what's going on 
those Mansions. What's it like on th 
plane? What does he really do with those 
Bunnies? There's even a story going 
around about the stars on the cover of 
the magazine representing the number 
of times I've made Iove with that month's 
Playmate. 
PLAYBOY: Ihe version we've heard i 
volves the girl on the cover. 
HEFNER: I hate to spoil all those fantasies, 
but the number of stars designates noth- 
ing more than the geographical edition 
azine. I think it's been of 
great value to PLaynoy, though, that the 
boss isn't a faceless chief executive but 
a guy people can fantasize about and see 
a representative of the good life the 
magazine promotes. 
PLAYBOY: A number of your personal 
tastes—for simple clothing, food and 
drink—don't exactly fit that image. 
HEFNER: PLAYBOY has never taken the po- 
sition that there's only one right kind of 
neckwear or music or one right way to 
live your lile. The magazine promotes 
not what people should be doing to look 
hip but an attitude that has to do with 
voring life however you choose to 
about it. I'm a living testimonial to that. 
It would be an affectation for me to wea 
ings I didn't enjoy because I felt | 
ought to. And Pepsi happens to be what 
llike to drink. As a matter of fact, I like 
Pepsi so much that I used to polish off 25 
or 30 bottles a day, and I started worry- 
ing about putting on weight, so I began 
smoking my pipe, rhinking that would 
cut down my drinking. 
PLAYBOY: Did it? 
HEFNER: No, I just acquired another bad 
t. As for my plain tastes in food, I 
imply enj d chicken more than 
pheasant under glass. It’s a hangup of 
minc, probably a result of retarded cat- 
ing habits in my misspent youth. 
PLAYBOY: Is it really truc, as we've heard, 


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PLAYBOY 


82 


when you went to Maxim's in Paris, 
generally considered one of the world's 
finest restaurants, you dispatched an aide 
to the kitchen beforchand to provide 
them with your personal recipe for fried 
chicken? 
HEFNER: It's true. My aide spent the after- 
moon showing them how to prepare 
Southern fried chicken the way I like it, 
and with all due credit to Maxim's, it 
was delicious. It tasted just like Colonel 
Sanders. You must understand that at 
that point, we'd been traveling for a 
month through Africa, the Greek isles, 
Italy, Spain, England, and so forth, and 
by the time I got to Paris . . . it sounds 
like a song: “By the time I got to Paris, 
she was risin'.” Anyway, by then, I was 
pretty horny for some home-cooked 
chicken. 
PLAYBOY; Did Maxim's ever recover from 
your vis 
HEFNER: Apparently they took it rather 
well, because later they tried to sell me 
the restaurant. But I didn’t like the 
chicken that much. 1 guess the real bot- 
tom line about food is that it's just not 
important to me. I've been known to go 
for two days without it. All it gives me is 
the energy I need to do what I really get 
pleasure from. Do 1 need to spell that 
ont? 
PLAYBOY: Is it a four-letter word? 
HEFNER: Four letters, sounds like. 
And besides being fun, it's not fauening. 
I should have mentioned that in The 
Playboy Philosophy. 
PLAYBOY: In areas other than food, drink 
and dothes, you could hardly be accused 
of simple tastes. Your lifestyle is so ex- 
traordinarily lavish, in fact, that some 
people regard it as an embodiment of the 
philosophy of conspicuous consumption. 
HEFNER: Well, there's no denying that I'm 
one of the nation’s major consumers—or 
that I haven't tried very hard to conceal 
that fact—but my feeling, frankly, is that 
T earned it and I have a right to do with it 
exactly what I damn please. And I'd feel 
the same way about it even if 1 didn’t also 
spend a good deal of what I've made on 
the causes I happen to believe in. But 
beyond what anyone thinks of me, there's 
an implicit assumption I can't accept in. 
the hostility some people—particularly 
among the affluent young left—fecl not 
only toward conspicuous consumption 
but toward materialism itself, and the 
assumption is that it's evil. They make 
no distinction between the ills wrought 
by materialism—corporate greed, urban 
blight, pollution, artificial obsolescence 
and the like—and the benefits of materi- 
alism, which indude, thanks to technolog- 
ical progress, a longer and healthier life 
and a better ability to feed and clothe 
the people of this planet. 

They also fail to appreciate the fact 


that, thanks to the benefits of material- 
ism, their own lives—however simply 
they choose to live—are very different 
from, and very much better than, the 
simple life led by those in the underde- 
veloped countries of the world. If a kid 
gets hungry in Taos, he can wash dishes 
somewhere and make enough to get by 
on. Or he can hock a watch to pay for à 
meal—or a doctor. Or if worst comes to 
worst, he can always go home to San 
Francisco. The kids in Burma and Tan- 
zinia don't have those option: 
don't see too many of these idealistic 
young kids throwing away their motor- 
cycles and their stereos, or using the 
money they spend on jeans and lowered 
shirts to buy food and clothing for the 
poor instead. I'm not saying they shoul 
but they should examine their own val- 
ues before condemning other people's, 
and they should realize that by rejecting 
materialism itself rather than the excesses 
of materialism, they're throwing out the 
baby with the bath water. 

PLAYBOY: Many of these young people 
you're talking about seem to feel that 
TLAYbOY accepts materialism as unques- 
tioningly as you say they reject it. 

HEFNER: We've never believed—or im- 
plied—that money can buy happiness. 
But we don't feel it's the root of all evil, 
either. It's all in what you do with 
Money can certainly be used exploitively 
and for destructive ends, the Watergate 
campaign funds are a perfect case in 
point. But it can also be used to enhance 
life—ior oneself and for others—and 
that’s what we've tried to promote in the 
magazine and the way I try to live myself. 
Tm fortunate enough to live very well, 
indeed, but it’s not the money that mat- 
ters to me; it's not even the things I can 
acquire with it. It’s the pleasure—and 
the personal freedom—it can provide for 
me and for those I care about. 

PLAYBOY: Isn't there any level on which 
the money itself—the fact that you made 
it yourself and that you've made as much 
as you have—is gratifying to you? 

HEFNER: Certainly. The financial part of 
my success isn’t meaningless to me. But 
it's much more meaningful to me that 
the thing I decided I most wanted to do 
when I was in college—to start and cdit. 
a magazine of my own that I could be- 
lieve in—is exactly what I've been able 
to do. And T take great satisfaction in the 
fact that this has been the most imitated 
magazine of my time, that it's had so 
many different impacts on our social and 
sexual values. All these things are much 
more meaningful to me than the dollars 
Гуе earned, 

People who are major bu 
cesses, with whom our net worth would 
be all we have in common, hold very lite 
interest for me. I have very few friends in 


ness suc- 


business, and sitting around with the 
head of a huge stecl company talking 
about how we got to the top would bore 
me shitless. I know there are men for 
whom it would be important to make an 
extra half billion dollars so they could 
se from being the 64th richest man in 
the world to the 23rd richest man. But 
I've never had any interest in making 
Playboy Enterprises as large as General 
Motors What I've really sought is to 
create a unique and exciting company 
that also shows a nice enough profit so 
that we can do what we want to do with- 
ig about money. 

Two years ago, you decided to 
finance future ех) n and diversifi 
cation by going public. After keeping 
Playboy an almost completely personal 
enterprise for so long, it must have been 
a painful decision to scll stock to the 
publ 
HEFNER: Not at all. I only went from 80 
percent ownership down to 70 percent 
ownership, so it wasn't exactly like scll- 
ing out my control. But you're right to 
the extent that it wasn’t a decision that 
came naturally to me. Td equate it with 
my decision in the late Sixties to start del- 
egating more authority. They were both 
made reluctandy but for the good of the 
company. When we went public, it was 
because I felt it was a proper step to 
assure greater growth. 

PLAYBOY: To judge from how the stock 
has fared, Playboy's position in the mar- 
ket isn't very good. 

HEFNER: I don't think the stock market re- 
Пса» the true value of the company. We 
just happened to go public immediately 
before a dramatic bear mood hit the mar- 
ket, and as far as I'm concerned, the drop. 
in the stock is related to the period of 
recession, inflation and poor political 
leadership that has caused the market to 
fall so much, rather than to any problems 
in Playboy, which is a very healthy and 
expanding enterprise. 

Playboy is entering what is going to be 
a very exciting period of growth in all 
inds of entertainment and leisure-time 
activities. Among the projects we've 
planned are convolled-environment resi- 
dential villages located on the grounds of 
our hotel properties and offering hotel 
services. In the last five years, we've also 
invested $50,000,000 in our new resorts 
in Wisconsin and New Jersey; they're 
both expected to add considerably to the 
appeal of Playboy Club membership and 
to produce a very nice profit. 

Were also considering a number of 
new magazines—fresh concepts, all of 
them very different from PLaynoy and 
Oui—that promise to tap fresh markets 
for us. The film division, which has sey- 
eral major theatrical features in the 
works, has acquired the rights to That 


The world’s most popular 
Christmas Club. 7 


Luxuriously gift-wrapped 
at no extra charge. 


IMPORTERS INC, DETROIT, WICH, 85.8 PROOF, BLENDED CAMDIAN WHISKY, © 1973. 


G YEARS OLO. IMPORTED IN BOTTLE FROM САМОА BY HIRAN WALKER 


PLAYBOY 


84 


Championship Season, which won not 
only a Pulitzer Prize but the Tony 
awards for best play and best director on 
Broadway. d ABC led off its fall 
made-for-TV movie season with Deliver 
Us from Evil, one of three major tele 
sion features we've completed—all of 
them produced under budget and all of 
them turni e profit. 
PLAYBOY: You Jost money on your 
film, Macbeth, Didn't that chasten you? 
HEFNER: It was only disappointing com- 
mercially, not ally. It was well re 
viewed, and it was voted best picture of 
the year by the National Board of Review 
of Motion Pictures. so I'm certainly not 
sorry we made it. The film business is 
lways a crap shoot in which only a small 
percentage of films make moncy, but it's a 
alculated risk I'm happy to take, because, 


isti 


on a longrange basis, film making is 
going to be an increasingly important 


form of expr society moves 
beyond the p ind I want to be 
personally involved in Playboy's develop- 
ment of expertise in that field. In the 
not-distant future, when cible television, 
cassette video tapes and ev 
publications become major forms of mass 
communication, Playboy will have the 
experience to take advantage of those 


n electronic 


g the 
nbs to match 
пе last decade— 
nightclub. atmos- 
phere to more informal dining and 
drinking and to more contemporary en 
tevutinment of every kind for young 
singles and couples ch of enjoyable 
alternatives t0 the tube and the movie 
теме 


from the traditio: 


Were also redesigning and ex- 
cs in many of ou 


of them—in Montreal, 
Detroit and, most recently, Los Angeles— 
have been moved to new locations that 
reflect the sl urb centers ol 
social activity. 

But the most important. news for our 
members is that I'm going to be more per- 
ally involved than ever before in the 
policies of The Playboy Club, and there 
will be an even greater emphasis on 
ng to our clientele—just as we em- 
phasize our readers’ interests when we're 
iting the magazine—that should make 
our Clubs, resorts and hotels among the 
most popular gathering places on the 
contemporary scene in the y head. 
PLAYBOY: How do you [cel about the pro- 
liferation of pLaysoy imitators in the past 
year or two, and the fact that some of 
them are obviously trying to copy more 
п your magazine? 

HEFNER: They say that imitation is the 
sincerest form of flattery, so I guess I've 
been flattered more sincerely—and more 
blatantly—than any other magazine pub- 


E 


© 


e 


s inspired an. 
unprecedented number of similar publi- 
cations since we started 90 years ago. The 
first of any significance was Escapade, 
followed by Nugget, Dude, Gent, Rogue 
and Gavalier. Each enjoyed some initial 
success, then floundered—to be replaced, 
more recently, by Penthouse, Galler 
Genesis, Cog, a black version titled 
Players and several dozen foreign varia- 
tions on the theme, such as Lui in France, 
Playmen in Italy, etc, The trouble with 
most of these magazines is that they try to 
compete by shamelessly copying our own 
publication instead of offering т 
something fresh and original 

Penthouse ample. It wa 
going to be called Playgirl until lawyers 
warned its publisher, Bob Guccione, of 
the danger of trademark infringement in 
using a title so similar to PLaYnoy’s. So 
he settled on Penthouse. a name closely 
associated with rrAvmov—our first ТУ 
series was titled Playboy's Penthouse and 
Playboy Club showrooms are similarly 
named—but not dose enough to be 
actionable. 

The primary feature in each issue of 
Penthouse is a picorial ripoff of our 
own Playmate of the Month, a 
tively retided “Pet of the Month"— 
which, in turn, inspired such derivative 
spinoffs as an annual Pet review, “Per 
of the Year” and a Pet calendar. 

This copyeat concept extends 10 other 
editorial features as well—including the 
Playboy Interview and Playboy Forum, 
which Penthouse picked up without even 
bother Че. Recent issues h 
included a kinky comic strip, à la Little 
Annie Fanny, while Guccione's personal 
cartoon contribution is pseudo Feiffer— 


ders, 


зар! 


1 1O те 


at, without any 
Penthouse even 
key instead of a 
ces at the end of 
cach story and article. Such inspired i 
novation, The only th i 
"What Sort of Man Re 
1; and, believe it or 
other imitators even 
that, along with an attempt to duplicate 
the art and design of our magazine that 
ompted Time to refer to one recently 
йв “PLAYBOY plagiarism.” 

Of course, the most blatant rip-off of 
I is Gallery. After taking offices 
the street from the Playboy Building 
several lower-echelon PLAYBOY 
they produced a first issue 
that attempted to duplicate rLavsoy ex- 
actly, page by page. Unfortunately, the 
result looked less like the original than 
one of the numerous PLAYBOY paro- 
s produced by the college humor 
azines. 


of his wit or insight. 
has а small symbol— 
Rabbit—which it pl 


ot, some of the 
include a copy of 


тозу 


and 


ma 
PLAYBOY: Considering the debt that Pent- 
house, Gallery, Genesis and the rest owe 


to rtavnoy, how do you react when their 
publishers tell interviewers that PLAYBOY 
is old-fashioned and that their own maga- 


zines are more in tune with contemporary 
standards? 
HEFNER: I think it's very funny, but what 


else 


you expect them to say? Because 
they concentrate almost totally on the 
most obvious aspects of PLAYBOY ap- 
peal—the permissive sexual orientation 
and the nude pictures—these magazines 
are actually the old-fashioned ones, hark- 
ng back to pre-rLayuoy days when sex 
was separate from the rest of man 
terests. Actually, I think the appeal of 
Penthouse is the implied naughtiness of 
the Victorian-porn approach it takes in 
its kinky letters section and its nude pho- 


tography. It's so old-fashioned diat it 
the virtue of nostalgia going for 


PLAYBOY: Considering the limited nature 
of its editorial content, how do you ex- 
plain the favorable press coverage Pent 
house has received in the past year? 
HEFNER: The one thing Guccione docs 
well is publicize his publication. He 
mounted an effective newspaper ad cam- 
couple of years ago that used our 
t trademark as an attention 
nd created the ide: 
house wis out to give PLAYBOY some real 
competi Guccione further drama- 
tized the idea with personal attacks on 
PLAYBOY in the press. It's an obvious 
que, bur the media went for it 
's no denying thar Guccione is a 
talented promoter, and he’s 
photographer: he's just not 
editor, 
PLAYBOY: In a recent interview with Guc 
cioue for Screw, the interviewer su 
ed that there's a love-hate rel 5 
underlying n not only to 
compete with PLaysoy but also to follow 
your footsteps in other arcas—with a 
Penthouse key club in London, a resort 
hotel, a Penthouse book club, a line of 
Penthouse products and a recent 
nouncement of plans to get into mot 
picture production 
HEFNER: T hc compulsion seems to extend 
to hiis personal life as well. He's attempt 
ng to create a very familiar public image 
ing for the 
ment that he’s moved into his own Peni- 
house mansion. But I don't really object 
to this energetic impersonation of his: 
if I were he, I'd want to be me, too. 
PLAYEOY: What made you decide to pub 
lish Oui, which might sccm to some like 
PLAYBOY imitating itself? 
HEFNER: I wanted to try some new ideas, 
variations on the theme, that w 
make sense in PLAYBOY but n 
new, slightly more frivolous, far-out 
azine, Oui is international in its editorial 
emphasis, which appeals to me, because 
(continued on page 288) 


һо good 
гу good 


ve 


nnounce 


WM. 


WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY? 


A man for whom success is no accident. He approaches a casual get-together with the same enthu- 
siasm and interest that he gives to every facet of his life. And this man's life has many facets. Not 
surprisingly, he finds all of them reflected in his favorite magazine. Fact: PLAYBOY, now celebrating 
its twentieth anniversary, is far and away the most popular magazine for men in publishing 
history. That's one of the reasons why, when you advertise in PLAYBOY, your success is assured. 


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


the check that bounced, 


the mafioso furioso, the 


ficti airplane bank notes 
2 each step led toward the 
А By SAUL BELLOW 


idea of the dead poet 


IT SO HAPPENED that I, Charlie Citrine, a lanky bald person with kinky back hair, ambled into a sort of eminence while 


my friend Von Humboldt Fleisher dropped dead. He, the poet, died in a dismal hotel. I, a different sort of writer, re- 


mained to mourn him in prosperity. Y couldn't help it, I had made money, too. Ah, money, the money! Humboldt 


thought I had a lot. He said I was a millionaire. He didn’t say, he accused me of making millions. 
And money wasn't what I had in mind. What I really wanted was to do something good. Besides, how much is a 


lot? In Chicago in the rackety Twenties, kids used to go treasure hunting in the March thaw. Along the curbs you 


sometimes found Indianhead pennies, buffalo nickels and other high va bles. And just this spring I found myself, 


almost an elderly fellow, treading the curbs, staring just as keenly into the slush. Because I needed some luck. Then I 


FAINTING BY ROY SCHN 


87 


PLAYBOY 


88 


realized with a shock of despair—what 


is a dime? And even if I were to find 
a dollar—what's a dollar? 

But Humboldt would tell people, 
“Citrine? He's loaded. There's money in 
his kind of wri ” Many reports were 
brought to me of all the damaging and 
mordant things he said. By this time— 
speak of writing!—there were stunning, 
pitiful, awful messages scribbled over 
Humboldt’s wide, pale face, A poet ob- 
sessed by money; that, in part, was what 
Humboldt had become. He envied, hated 
and admired me for having made it. Well, 
he exaggerated, and he didn’t live to see 
the witty, cranky Mammon take it all 
back. He died five years ago. Those five 
years have had the weight of 50. 

In his day, Von Humboldt Fleisher 
was famous. That day was long ago and 
brief. A kid from West End Avenue in 
New York, he published at the age of 22 
a book called Harlequin Ballads. You 
would have thought that a young man 
who had educated himself in the public 
schools, on the steps of the 42nd Street 
library (an intellectual forum) and at 
CCNY would be clumsy, that he would 
fumble, that his syntax would be coarse. 
Not at all. His Modernist avantgarde 
poems were musical, pure, piercing, radi 
ant, witty, humane and highly Platonic 
(desiring passionately to return to an 
original perfection). The words werc 
impeccable. This poetry was the work 
ol agel. 

I was then 19 and I used to pi 
tion pool in the Rathskeller at Ma 
Wisconsin. Someone had left Humbolde’s 
book lying on the felt-covered massive 
green slab under the warm light, and I 
pinched it. Instead of taking it to lost 
and found, I went out to the terrace and. 
began to read. I read all afternoon and I 
stayed up all night, much moved. These 
poems also were treasure reclaimed from 
the gutter. The sublime and vulgar 
American mixture, Antichrist was sup- 
posed to come from the slums. All the 
genteel people were worried. But here in- 


stead, to surprise everyone, came a Hun 
boldt. Perhaps he was not wholly 
American. In his elegance, he was slightly 


foreign. I was a bit foreign myself. All 
the closer to me, therefore, all the truer. 
He was willing to speak openly of deep 
emotions in a way that 


dawn I took off my clothes and jumped 


into Lake Mendota in my underpants. So 
carly in the morning, T didn't think any- 
one would be watching, but an old 
woman ran out onto the pier threatening 
to report this obscenity to the police. I 
waded out dazed, and that afternoon in 
my suffocating attic on Langdon Strect, 
1 wrote Humboldt a letter. 

ight was his big year. 
Conrad Aiken praised him, Т, S. Eliot 
noticed the ballads favorably (this was 
cating; Humboldt worshiped Eliot). 


Even that unappeasable purist Yvor 
Winters had a good word to say for them. 
Humboldt was made, First of all, he 
conquered Greenwich Village. The best 
doors in the Village opened to him. 
Behind those doors Russian literature 
and Marxist politics were discussed. New 
York was a very Russian city in the 
Thirties. It was a case, as Lionel Abel 
correctly said, of a great metropolis wish- 
ing with all its heart to belong to another 
county. Leninism, Stalinism, Trotskyism 
preoccupied thousands of people, Hum- 
boldt 

Bolshevism, the Smolny Institute, the 
Shakhty Engineers, the Moscow. Trials, 
the Spanish Civil War. He 
much affected by Trotskys history of 
the Russian Revolution and by Sidney 
Hook’s From Hegel to Marx. We 
new those books. You couldn't be taken 
seriously in New York if you didn’t know 
them. Some of us were on fairly quict 
terms with this information, but it 
not in Humboldt to know anything 
quietly. He was a great talker—not gar- 
rulous but an extraordinary conversi- 
tionalist. In fact, the Mozart of 
conversation. He was taken up by H 
vard, Yale and Princeton, by scholars, edi- 
tors and critics. He knew Max Eastman 
and Edmund Wilson, Calverton, Hook, 
the Partisan Review. He was invited to 
Kenyon by John Crowe Ransom, who 


ng them. He knew a lot about 


so courted and flattered and pu 
by women. When we met, he quoted 
had 
1917, when he saw that the Bol- 
n gover 
He was giddy with power, with 
triumph. Humboldt later added that his 
own Mai intasies had been realized 


said i 
sheviks had captured the Russ 


meni 


Success, for he often described himselt 
as a Manic Depressive. To Succeed you 


needed Manic energy, but you paid the 
Depressive price. Humboldt hid been 
warned against Fame and, like any well- 
read person, he knew what a lot of 
trouble Beauty was. He was in a danger- 
ous position, he said. When he talked li 
and Danger glowed like 
1 globes at са 

Humboldt had answered my Madison 
letter and in 1939 I had gone to New 
York t0 sce him. Hé received me co 
ially in his room on Bedford Street and 
opened a boule of gin, which we drank 
neat. Then he began, delightfully, to talk 
and he never stopped. His theme for the 
day was Success and, as we crossed the 
Hudson on the Christopher Street Ferry 
to have lunch in Hoboken, he lectured 
me endlessly about it. He covered the 
problem under numerous headings—Cal- 
sm, Grace, Depravity: the steward- 
ship of John D. Rockefeller, who insisted 
that his money had come str 
God. Next Humboldt spoke about the 


meaning of eminence in an age of social 
revolution. Masses, melting pots, sccth- 
g populations, technical transforma- 
tions. What was social station in a 
country like the U. S., anyway? Besides, 
Henry Adams had said that mechanical 
progress would break our necks in а few 
decades. There was a tremendous lot of 
embroidery in these monologs of Hum- 
boldrs. He reasoned, he illustrated, 
cited, adduced, he crooned, he barked, he 
aughed, he was somber. 

Humboldt, that grand, erratic, hand- 
some person, with his wide blond face, 
rounded at the temples, that charming, 
fluent, learned, decply worried man to 
whom I was so passionately attached, 
lived out the theme of Success. Naturally, 
he died a Failure. That's all that can re- 
sult from the capitalization of certain 
nouns. Humboldt, in my opinion, had 
far too many capitals—Poctry, Beauty, 
Wasteland, Politics, Unconscious. And I 
must not forget Manic and Depressive. 
“Lincoln was our great Manic-Depres- 
sive,” he said. Alter the war, Humboldt 
added Winston Churchill to the list. 
‘Churchill was a classic case of Manic- 
Depression. Whats wonderful about 
Manic-Depressives, Charlie, is that they 
have the power to make entire nations 
act out their condition. Emerging from 
rresistible. They make 
d Revolutions. They capture His- 
They force mankind to enter into 
their cycles. 

Poor Humboldt didnt 
cycles on mankind very effect 
Manics with more cnergy, more lust, 
stronger demons beat him out. One 
morning he woke up to find himself, like 
young Byron, famous; 30 years later, the 

ame was gone and he died in a flop- 

house near Times Square. Just a little 
earlier, in June of that year, l'd had a 
glimpse of him across 46th Street. He 
didn't see me and, because we hadn't spo- 
ken in 12 years, I didn't approach. 

I was appalled. He had become gross, 
he had gone all gray. His face was gray 
and mad. He had the grimness of death 
all over him. He stood at the curb eating 
prevel sticks out of a bag, grinding them 
1 his teeth hungrily. Hidden, still, b 
ter, very bitter, I watched him for a while 
and then I took off. 

This gray, gross, weak Minotaur with 
bloodshot eyes, Humboldt, six months 
before his death had moved into the Hs- 
combe Hotel, not far from the Belasco 
Theater. At the Belasco a dozen years 
ago, my play Von Trenck ran for eight 
months. Then 7 was а Success. Humboldt 
made a scene on the sidewalk opening 
night. He came from the Village with a 
group of eggerson, his cheering section 
from the White Horse on Hudson Stect. 


impose his 
ly. Other 


He had then just been 
Bellevue. Of course, he was crackers. And 
suffering. He carried a picket sign. He 

(continued on page 112) 


“Gee, Mom—you were incredible!” 


article 


By JOHN KENNETH GALBRAITH 


SINCE WORLD WAR TWO, the international monetary crisis 
has become a fixed feature of what people with a gift for 
cliché call the financial landscape. Through the Fifties 
and into the Sixties, crises happened in Britain roughly 
at two-year intervals. There were occasional unspectacular 
episodes involving the French franc and the Italian lira. 
In the past six years, the crises have been much more seri- 
ous, and all have involved the dollar. The summer and 
autumn of 1971 and the autumn and winter of 1972-1973 
produced spectacular episodes, the last blowing up with- 
out any seeming reason or warning. Both ended with de- 
valuation of the dollar. Since then, the dollar has wavered 
and then got stronger. But more crises are ahead—perhaps 
next time for the pound again and maybe one day even 
for the yen. 

A monetary crisis is, in all respects, a curious thing. It 
gets large and alarming headlines that are read by people 
who remain unperturbed, Things are not right in the 
world; there is mismanagement somewhere, but it is not 
a thing that will affect people personally. A monetary 
crisis is bad somewhere, but it does not have an identifi- 
able effect on the life of anyone living in Des Moines, 
Lyons or London, Ontario. For most of us, it is an im- 
portant nonhappening. 

A further peculiarity is that neither its causes nor its 
consequences are much understood. Not only are the by- 


standers confused, which is understandable, but so also 
are many of the participants. When a crisis comes, the 
Secretary or Assistant Secretaries of the Treasury, the 
Minister or Deputy Ministers of Finance, the Chairman 
of the Federal Reserve and other central bankers fly to 
meetings in London or Paris or Washington. When they 
emerge from these meetings, they are described as grim or 
unsmiling. Reporters question them, and after some 
thought they say, “No comment." This is not surprising, 
for a fair number either do not know what is wrong or 
do not know that they do not know what is wrong. The 
reporters, all of whom will write alarming pieces on the 
development, are, needless to say, similarly ignorant. 
‘The problem is that there is no such thing as a purely 
monetary crisis. What is so described is a manifestation— 
a symptom—of more deeply seated problems in the eco- 
nomic life of the afflicted countries. And, this being so, it 
follows that there is no monetary remedy for the disorder. 
Durable improvement is only possible in consequence of 
fundamental changes in economic policies of the countries 
concerned—changes that, because they involve unions, 
taxes, prices and budget priorities, are not only politically 
contentious but far beyond the competence of monetary 
experts to bring about. Being human, the experts do not 
wish to admit that they are helpless—that they manipu- 
Tate levers to which no machinery is attached. So they 


2 


NS 


what is a dollar and why are they saying all those bad things about it? 


persuade the public, and more urgently themselves, that 
they have a solution. A little time and international good 
will, a further deployment of monetary expertise and 
there will be a new workable world monetary system. 

It is hard to believe that such great matters involve 
such fraud—that those involved are fooling themselves as 
well as the public. Money is important to almost everyone. 
Its possession is agreeable and undeniably а solvent for 
many personal problems. There is a natural mystery as 
to how anything intrinsically so worthless as a few pieces 
of paper can do so much for the man who owns them. 
We want such things understood and handled. So the 
temptation to believe that there is some priesthood that 
has penetrated the mystery of money and can, by incanta- 
tion, resolve its problems is overpowering. And so is the 
temptation to be a priest. Yet even a moment's thought 
is sufficient to raise doubts about the omniscience of those 
involved. The search for a solution to the world's mone- 
tary problems, in its modern manifestation, has been 
proceeding with mounting energy for half a century, with- 
out results. This should suggest that the effort, like the 
pursuit of perpetual motion, could be a chimera. 

‘There is also the instant process by which monetary 
experts are made, Thus, on February 8, 1971, Mr. John 
Connally of Texas became Secretary of the Treasury. An 
eminently successful politician and lawyer, especially in 


the pursuit of his own ends and those of his more affluent 
friends, Mr. Connally had never been previously accused 
of having knowledge, training, background, instinct, in- 
sight or other qualification where monetary problems 
were involved, his own personal assets apart. His acces- 
sion to office coincided with the onset of a monetary crisis; 
overnight, he became a world expert. His peer had not 
been seen since the days of Hjalmar Schacht, John May- 
nard Keynes or Montagu Norman. In a blaze of publicity 
that omitted reference only to his personal contribution, 
he was held to be leading a brilliant search for a solution, 
and finding it. Then Mr. Connally left office. His standing 
as an expert dissolved the day he resigned. Soon afterward, 
so did the remedy that he had negotiated. If such is the 
nature of the great monetary expert, the layman will per- 
haps be persuaded that monetary expertise does not come 
to much. He will be right. 

The latter-day monetary crisis is the consequence of 
two irreconcilable but inescapable features of modern 
economic life, together with some subsidiary aggravating 
tendencies. The first feature is the compulsion of modern 
national states to manage their economic systems in their 
own way, in response to differing institutional develop- 
ment. Or, in the case of the United States, to make prayer, 
rhetoric, faith in the free market and predictions that are 


derived almost exclusively from hope a substitute for ac- 
tual management. The second cause is the need, in a closc- 
ly interconnected world where there must be a good deal 
of advance planning of economic activity, for some reason- 
ably predictable relationship among currencies. Among 
the important contributing causes of trouble are the mod- 
ern transnational industrial and banking enterprises that 
can shift funds across national lines with consummate 
case and, increasingly, persuade the public that any ad- 
verse consequences are the shady work of international 
speculators and Arabian sheiks. Also heavily at fault are 
economists who have allowed their affection for gadgetry 
to obscure their judgment. 

Divergence in national economic policies naturally 
causes divergence in the costs and prices of goods among 
different countries. It makes the costs and prices of tankers 
or television sets low in Japan, higher in Britain and may- 
be, as in the case of most s, prohibitive in the United 
States. This divergence has profound competitive effects 
when costs and prices are converted from one currency to 
another—from yen or marks or pounds to dollars—at a 
fixed rate of exchange. So much is obvious, but a number 
of factors have combined to make the divergence in policy 
and in costs and prices particularly grave in recent times. 
Of these, the most important is the interaction of wages 
and prices in causing inflation. 

Until sometime after World War Two the main in- 
fluence inducing inflation was an unduly high level of 
private borrowing and investment or an undue excess of 


public expenditures over receipts. The remedies—higher 
interest rates, higher taxes, less public spending —were 
more or less equally available to all modern governments. 
And all or most governments had a tendency to apply the 
same final rule—to aim at a generally balanced budget 
unless unemployment or idle plant capacity minimized 
the danger of inflation and indicated instead the desira- 
bility of a deficit and the resulting expansion. In the past 
quarter century, however, major institutional changes— 
stronger unions, more competition among unions, a 
lessened incentive by the modern bureaucratic corpora- 
tion to resist wage increases, a heightened ability and will- 
ingness to pass wage increases along to the public—have 
made wages in their direct effect on prices and prices in 
their effect on wages a primary cause of inflation. 

The effect of a budget deficit was much the same in all 
countries. But the impact of wages on prices and the re- 
ig effect of prices on wages differ radically among 
countries, depending on the structure and traditions of 
the trade-union movement, the stage of development of 
the corporations and the sensitivity of the unions and 
corporations to international competitive effects—a sen- 
sitivity that is relatively high in Germany and Scandi- 
navia but much lower in Britain and nonexistent in the 
United States. And, a most important point, as there is 
no very strong tendency toward convergence in wage- 
price behavior among the advanced industrial countries, 
so also is there none in the policy for dealing with it. Some 
governments, notably those of the United States and 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY SEYMOUR FLEISHMAN 


PLAYBOY 


94 


Britain, admit of the need for controls in 
practice but not in principle. Some, as i 
the case of France, are unbothered by the 
principle of controls but do little to en- 
force them. Some use informal restraints 
Some have no controls. Where wage price 
inflation is concerned, divergent r 
tendencies must be assumed. 

There is also continuing and perhaps 
increasing divergence among modern 
states in the productivity of labor. Thi 
too, affects costs. At some stage, with in- 
creased industrialization and affluence, it 
was always imagined that workers would 
reduce their efforts and substitute leisure 
or a lower level of diligence for pecu 
niary return. Numerous philosophers have 
won a modest reputation and income by 
that the time of increased 

е was near and explaining how it 
would be used. Such a slowdown evidently 
has been occurring and, as might be ex- 
pected, it has come first in the older in. 
dustrial countries, notably Britain and 
the United States. But when this en- 
lightened embrace of leisure by the prole- 
tariat means not turning up for work on 
Monday or i i 
praise for it is less universal or ecstatic 
than we were earlier led to expect. 

A second factor affecting productivity 
is that different countries use their cap 
tal and technical resources in different 
ys. Since 1950, the United States has 
nvested technical manpower and capital 
very heavily aments and in the 
space race, und we've exported them 

y for our Asian war. ny and 
n part because of arms limita 
s imposed by the victorious powers 
alter World War Two, have been forced 
to concent r more of their resources 
on their civilian industries, including 
their export industries. This has added 
powerfully 10 their competitive advan- 
. One wonders if it would not h 


ta е 
heen wise, in the negotiations seeking an 
end to the Vietnam Henry 
Kissinger to have 1 apose а 


similar restriction on us. I once suggested 
it, but the idea was not well received. 

In the past ten years, all of the diver- 
actors—wage-price in the 
predictable slowdown, the differing use 
of capital and technical resources 
been mostly unfayorable to the United 
States. Given fixed rates of conyersion 
tying the mark, yen, pound and other 
currencies with the dollar, the result was 
able. Where they were in competi- 
the cheaper overscas products pro- 
gressively replaced the more expensive 
American products. This happened in 
the United States, in the markets of the 
competitive country and in third 
countries. The excess of sales over pur- 
chases—the favorable commercial 
ance long a feature of the American 
relationship with other countries 
dwindled and disappeared. Overseas 
military expenditures and capital exports 


ion, 


continued. So unspent dollars accumu- 
lated in foreign hands. 

No one could avoid selling to Ameri- 
cans or serving American tourists. And 
since the dollars could be exchanged at 
the bank, th centive to avoid 
us as customers. But since we were not an 
economical place to buy, the dollars so 
exchanged and accumulated were not 


readily spent. And as dollar holdings i 
creased, so did the a 


xiety as to their 
ntually, the anxi 
led to a general ellort to be rid of them; 
and others, sensing the inevitable effect 
of these fears, borrowed dollars to ex- 
change. It ndubitably, one of the 
ic laws of economics that before any- 
one can sell, there must be someone to 
buy. and if there is a major desire to be 
rid of something, there will be 
repugnance about acquiring it. Th 
currency crisis. Prior to the de 
of 1971 1 1973, so m: 
rid of dollars, so few wanted to buy them. 
that their purchase at fixed rates had to 
be abandoned. 

In principle—a principle that has 
greatly captivated economists—currency 
crises can be avoided by not having fixed 
rates of exchange. If dollars or. pounds 
€ too plentiful and people desire to be 
id of them, let them overcome the reluc 
tance of buyers by taking a smaller num- 
ber of marks, yen or Swiss francs. At some 
level, reluctance will be overcome. And 
at the new rate of exchange, since dollars 
or sterlin inge for less foreign cur- 
rency, foreign products will be more ex 
domestic products cheaper. At 
this point. the underlying trade imbal- 
ance that produced the surplus of cur- 
rency in foreign hands will be corrected, 
"This solution, сі l if not miraculous 
its simplicity, has appealed as a flash 
of revelation to many economists. It is 
called the float. The name is used lovii 
ly by the cognoscenti. It has, more than 
ng else, given rise to the notion 
there is a purely monetary solution 
to monetary crises. Unfortunately, 25 a 
і OL exist. 

The shortcoming is simple but devas- 

There is no way of conducting a 
number of business transactions 
without knowing, within fairly narr 
limits, what you are going to have to pay 
or receive. here is an element of futu- 
y in newly every business transaction, 
This increases as economic life becomes 
more highly organized, The float makes 
the value of all future payments uncer 


matching 
i the 


w 


A buyer can overcome uncertainty 
to what he will have to pay by having 
the transaction in his own cmrency. But 


this only transfers the uncertainty to the 
seller, who does not know what he will 
receive. He can hedge—ensure against 
what marks will cost six months from 
now by buying them now for future ( 
six months hence) delivery. But there is 
a charge for this, which, with uncer 


g sharply. And 
it’s a solution that is available to the siz- 
able company only and only where the 
forward market is well developed. For the 
yen, lor example, it has never becn good. 

The need for some degree of certainty 
is present in every kind of business trans- 
action. The ordinary tourist planning a 
trip to Europe wants some reasst 
that his dollars will pay for his hotels 
meals. He can buy a package tour in dol 
lars; that only transfers the risk to the 
company that organizes the tour. The 
company can make dollar arrangements 
with hotels abroad; that shifts the risk of 
currency fluctuation to them. As with 
these simple transactions, so with those 
who buy and sell automobiles, television 
lcs, computers, art. To conduct 
international trade on a vast scale with 
large and unpredictable fluctuations in 
the rates of exchange between the rele 
vant currencies may not be impossible. 
Trade s 
uncertainty is ve handicap. 

Proponents of the float would agre 
that widely and erratically fluctu 
rates arc a handicap. Most of them would 
also concede that leaving rates to find 
their own level—refiecting not only the 
differences in national economic policies 
but also speculation on the course of 
these policies and the course of exchange 

es themselves—will cause such fluctua- 
n. Here enters one of the subsidiary 
causes of the present problem: the exist 
ence of large nal corporations, 
"cluding very specifically the banks, 
that are able to move funds between 
countries in very large amounts at very 
short notice or even to postpone move- 
ments they would ordinarily make. If a 
floating currency seems likely to fall, they 

п quickly desert it in large amounts for 
another that seems likely to appreciate. 
The act then fulfills the expectation. The 
resulting fluctuation сап be very gre: 
The word float has an ingenuously be 
nign sound. One imagines drifting gently 
m pool stitutions and 
ies being what 
re, the float takes place on a 
tempestuous sea. 

The speculation that gi 
tempest, it must be emphasized, is under 
the most le 
of е 


rvives many obstacles. But such 


profit of those concerned. There wa 
much mention of international spec 
lators and the emerging interna 
uncial vilains of our time, the Middle 
Eastern oil sheiks. Until there is absolute 
evidence of innocence, it had better be 
ssumed that the major operators were 
the big commercial banks here and 
abroad and the corporations on one or 
nother of Fortune's lists, foreign or 
domestic. The U. S. Tariff Commission re 
cently put the short-term liquid assets of 
corporations subject to such moyement 

(continued on page 218) 


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сте 


TaN 
NURSERY 
TALE 


fiction 
By 
VLADIMIR NABOKOV 


every woman he desired was his for the asking— 
but there was just one little catch 


RF THE FLUTTER, the rapture of fantasy! Erwin 


knew these things well. In a tram, he would always sit on the righthand side, so as to be 
nearer the sidewalk. Twice daily, from the tram he took to the office and back, Erwin looked out the 
window and collected his harem. Happy, happy Erwin, to dwell convenient, such a fairy-tale 
German town! He covered one sidewalk in the morning, on his way to work, and the other in the late 
afternoon, on his way home. First one, then the other was bathed in voluptuous sunlight, for the sun also 
went and returned. We should be: so morbidly shy that only once in his life, 
taunted by rascally comrades, had he accosted a woman, and she had said quietly: “You ought to be 
ashamed of yourself. Leave me alone.” Thereafter, he had avoided conversation with strange young ladies. 
In compensation, separated from the strect by a windowpane, clutching to his ribs a black briefcase, 
wearing scuffed trousers with pe, and stretching one leg under the opposite seat (if 
unoccupied). Erwin looked boldly and freely at passing girls, and then would suddenly bite his nether 
lip: This signified the capture of a new concubine; whereupon he would set her aside, as it were, 
and his swift gaze, jumping like a compass needle, was already seeking out the next one. Those 
beauties were far from him, and therefore the sweetness of free choice could not be affected 
by sullen timidity. If, however, a girl happened to sit down across from him, and a certain twinge 
told him that she was pretty, he would retract his leg from under her seat with all the signs 
of a gruffness quite uncharacteristic of his young age, and could not bring himself to take stock of her: 
The bones of his forehead—right here, over the eyebrows—ached from shyness, as if an iron 
helmet were restricting his temples and preventing him from raising his eyes; and whi 
s when she got up and went toward the exit. Then, feigning casual abstraction, he 
looked—shameless Erwin did look—following her receding back, swallowing whole her adorable 
nape and silk-hosed calves, and thus, after all, would he add her to his fabulous harem! 
"The leg would again be stretched, again the bright sidewalk would flow past the window, and 
in, his thin pale nose with a noticeable depression at the tip, directed streetward, Erwin 
would accumulate his slave girls. And this is fantasy, the flutter, the rapture of fantasy! 


n such à 


n mind that Erwin wa 


pinst 


a relief it w; 


One frivolous evening in May, Erwin was sitting at a sidewalk table. He watched 
the tripping throng of the avenue, now and then biting his lip with a quick incisor. The 

entire was tinged with pink and the street lamps and shop-sign bulbs glowed with a kind 

n anemic but pretty 
young girl. Rather fittingly the calé phonograph was singing the Flower Aria from Faust. 

A tall middle-aged lady in a charcoal tailor-made suit, heavily, yet not ungracefully, swinging her 

hips, made her way among the sidewalk tables. There was no vacant опе, Finally, she put one 
hand in a glossy black glove upon the back of the empty chair opposite Erwin. “May 12 
queried her unsmiling eyes from under the short veil of her velvet hat. “Yes, certainly," 
ed Erwi ad ducking. He was not awed by such solid-built women with 
Down onto the table with a resolute thud went her 99 


urday, or 


thly light in the gathering dusk. The first lilacs were being hawked by 


of unca 


answa 


slightly rising 
thickly powdered, somewhat masculine jow 


LUSTRATION EY ELIZABETA BENNETT 


PLAYBOY 


100 


oversized handbag, She ordered a cup of 
coffee and a wedge ol apple tart. Her deep 
voice was somewhat hoarse but pleasant. 
The vast sky, s ith dull rose, 
ker. A tram screeched by, inui 
dating the asphalt with the radiant tears 
of its nd shortskinted beauties 
walked by. Erwin's glance followed them. 
1 want this one,” he thought, notch- 
ing his nether lip. “And that one, too.” 
Т think it could be arranged," said his 
viscvis in the same calm husky tones in 
which she had addressed the waiter 
Erwin almost fell off his chair. The 
lady looked intently at him, as she pulled 
off one glove to tackle her coffee. Her 
made-up eyes shone cold and hard, like 
showy false jewels. Dark pouches swelled 
under them and—what seldom occurs in 
the case of women, even elderly women— 
hairs grew out of her felines! 
wil. The shed glove revealed а big 
wrinkled hand with long, convex, beauti- 
ful fingernails. 
"Don't be su 


prised,” she said with a 
у mufiled a yawn and 
added: "In point of fact, I am the Devil.” 
Shy, n: took this to be a fig- 

ure of speech, but the lady, lowering her 
voice, cont s follow. d 
Those who imagine me with horns 
and a thick tail are greatly mistaken. 
Only once did I appear in that shape, to 
some Byzantine imbecile, and 1 really 
dont know why it was such a damned 
success. I am born three or four times 
every two centuries. In the Eighteen- 
seventies, some fifty years azo, T was bur- 
ied, with picturesque honors and a great 
shedding of blood, on a hill above a clu: 
ter of African villages of which I had 
been ruler. My term there was a rest after 
more stringent incarnations. Now I 
a German-born woman whose last I 
band—I had, I think, three in all—was 
of French extraction, a Professor Monde. 
In recent years, I have driven several 
young men to suicide, caused a well. 
known artist to copy and mul 
picture of the Houses of Parliament on 


am 


She gobbled up her slice of tart and 
Erwin, mumbling something, reached for 
his hat, which had tallen under the table. 
Чо, don't go yet," said Frau Monde, 
simultaneously beckoning the waiter. "I 
im offering you something. I am offering 
you a harem. And if you are still skepti- 
cal of my power see that old gentleman 
scs crossing the street. 
ve him hit by a tram.” 

Erwin, blinking, turned streetward. As 


the ched the tracks, he took 
out hi rchief and was about to 
sneeze i 

flashes 


both sides of the avenue, people rushed 
toward the tracks. The old gentleman, 
his glasses and handkerchief gone, was 


ig on the asphalt. Someone helped 
him up. He stood, sheepishly shaking his 
head, brushing his coat sleeves with the 
palms of his hands and wiggling one leg 
to test its condition 

“I said ‘hit by a tram,’ not ‘run over," 
which I might also have said,” remarked 
Frau Monde coolly, as she worked a thick 
neled holder. “In 
ple. 


у case, this 

She blew two streams of gray smoke 
through her nosuils and again fixed 
Erwin with her hard bright cyes. 

“I liked you immediately. 
ness, that bold imagination. You remind- 
ed me of an innocent, though hugely 
endowed, young monk whom I knew in 
Tuscany. This is my penultimate night. 
Being а woman has its points, but bei 
an aging woman is hell, if you wi 
pardon me the expression. Morcove 
made such mischief the other day— 
you will soon read about it in all the 
apers—that 1 had better get out of this 
fe. Next Monday, I plan to be born 
elsewhere. The Siberian slut I have 
chosen shall be the mother of a marvel- 
ous, monstrous ma 

“I see,” said. 

“Well, my di 


hat shy- 


win. 
т boy,” continued Frau 
Monde, demolishing her second piece of 
try, "I intend, before going, to have a 
of innocent fun, Here is what I 


suggest. Tomorrow, from noon to mid- 
night, you can select by your usual 
method"—with heavy humor, Frau 


Monde sucked in her lower lip 
culent hiss—“all the girls you 
fore my departure, I shall have them 
ithered and placed at your complete 
. You will keep them until you 
have enjoyed them ай. How does that 
strike you, amico 

Erwin dropped his eyes and said softly: 
“If it is all true, it would be a great 
appiness.” 
"MI right, then,” she said, licking the 
pped cream off her spoon 


ht. One condition, nevertheless, 
must be set. No, it is not what you are 
thinking. As I told you, I have arranged 


ion. Your soul I do not 
The 
nd 
n odd number. This 
. Otherwise, I can do 


my next incarn 
require. Now, this is the conditio 


total of your choices between noon 


lnight must be 
is essential and fin. 
nothing for you." 

Erwin cleared his throat and asked, al- 
most in a whisper: 

"But—how shall I know? Let's say I've 
chosen one—what then?” 

"Nothing," said Frau Monde. "Your 
feeling, your desire are a command in 
themselves, However, in order that you 
may be sure that the deal stands, I shall 
given you every time—a 
smile, not necessarily addressed to you, a 
dane word in the crowd, a sudden 
patch of color—that sort of thing. Don't 
worry, you'll know.” 

"And—and—" mumbled Erwin, shul- 
fling his {ect under the table, “and where 


is it all going to—uh—happen? 1 have 
only a very small room. 
"Don't worry about that, either, 
Frau Monde, and her corset creaked as 
she rose, “Now it’s time you went home. 
No harm in getting а good night's rest. 
T'I give you a lift. 
In the open taxi, with the dark wind 
streaming between starry sky and glist 
ing asphalt, poor Erwin felt tremen- 
dously elated. Frau Monde sat erect, her 
crossed legs forming a sharp angle, and 
the city lights flashed in her gemlike eyes 
"Пете your house,” she said, touch- 
Erwin's shoulder. “Au revoir 


Many are the dreams that can be 
brought on by a mug of dark beer laced 
with brandy. Thus reflected Erwin when 
he awoke the next morning—he must 
have been drunk, and the talk with that 
funny female was all fancy. This rhetor 
cal turn often occurs in fairy tales and, as 
in fairy tales, our young man soon real- 
ized he was wrong. 

He went out just as the church clock 
had begun the laborious task of striki 
noon. Sunday bells joined in excitedly 
and a bright breeze ruffled the Pers 
lacs around the public lavatory i 
small park near his house. Pigeons settled 
on an old stone Herzog or waddled along 
the sandbox where small children, their 
flannel behinds sticking up, were diggin 
with toy scoops and playing with wooden 
trains, The lustrous leaves of the lindens 
moved in uke wind; icir acc-ofspades 
shadows quivered on the graveled path 
and climbed in an airy flock the trouser 
legs and skirts of the strollers, racing up 
and scattering over shoulders and faces, 
and once again the whole flock slipped 
ck onto the ground, where, barely stir 
ring, they lay in wait for the next foot 
passenger. In this variegated setting, 
Erwin noticed a girl in а white dress who 
Ind squatted down to tousle with two 
fingers a fat shaggy pup with warts on its 
belly. The inclination of her head bared 
the back of her neck, revealing the ripple 
of her vertebrae, the 
der hollow between her shoulder blades, 
4 the sun through the leaves found 
fiery strands in her chestnut hair. Still 
playing with the puppy. she half rose 
from her haunches and dapped her 
hands aboy The fat little animal 
rolled over on the gravel, ran off a few 
feet and toppled onto its side. Erwin sat 
down on a bench and cast a timid and 
avid glance at her face. 

He saw her so clearly, with such piere- 
nd perfect force of perception, that, 
it seemed. nothing new about her fea- 
tures might have been disclosed by years 
of previous intimacy. Her palish lips 
twitched as if repeating every small soft 
mov of the puppy; her eyelashes 
beat so brightly as to look like the raylets 
of her beaming eyes; but most enchant- 
ing, perhaps, was the curve of her check. 

(continued on page 116) 


“AILT sell is cheeseburgers, but I sell a lot of cheeseburgers.” 


101 


102 


from two decades of beaut, a choice array of what has become an international institution 


TWENTY YEARS OF PLAYMATES 


MARILYN MONROE Bit parts in “The Asphalt Jungle" and “All About 
Eve” had marked her for stardom, but news that she’d once pored in 
the nude caused a sensation. The shot at left, featuring MM os "Sweel- 
heart of the Month,” made rtavsoy’s first issue о virtual sellout. 


JANET PILGRIM “Playboy's Office Playmate," Miss July 1955 (below) 
made history as the first of our girlnext-door types—and as the only 
Playmate to grace the gatefold three times. Janel, once PLAYBOY Sub- 
scription Manager, lcter headed our Reader Service Department. 


MARGUERITE EMPEY We were twice blessed with Marguerite (above)— 
in May 1955 and February 1956; the latter was photographed by Russ 
Meyer, later king of the skin flicks. Marguerite eventually became a 
well-known figure in the nudist movement in Southern California. 


CARRIE RADISON А? the age of ten she was in summer stock in Min- 
nesota; at 13 she sang with New York's City Center Opera. After 
appearing as Miss June 1957, Carrie (right) wen! on to become c 
Bunny—first in Chicago, then in Phoenix, New York and New Orleans. 


IN A NATIONALLY CIRCULATED interview—not the one you'll find elsewhere in this issue—a reporter once asked Hugh 
Hefner what PLAYBOY would be without its Playmates. “I don't think people buy PLAYBOY for just the Playmate, if 
that’s what you mean,” he replied. But, he went on, she's an integral part of the magazine—just like good articles, 
good interviews, good pieces of fiction. We'll buy that, and so do our readers. In tribute to the 242 girls who have made 
the center spread of pLavnoy what it is, we present here a distillation of the past two decades. We may have omit- 
ted your personal favorites, but we're sure you'll enjoy this editorial return with us to the golden days of yesteryear. 


LISA WINTERS She was tao shy to pose for a man, so it was lucky for 
us thal photographer Bunny Yeager spotted Lisa (right) at a Miami 
bus stop and talked her into becoming a centerfold celebrity. 
Readers voted Miss December the most popular Playmate of 1956. 


ELSA SORENSEN “Danish Pastry," we called this yaung thing from Co- 
penhagen (below) who, thartly affer she cavorted thraugh our pages in 
September 1956 on о supermarket shopping spree with singer Guy Mitch- 
ell, married him. The union, we regret 1o report, wasn't a lasting ane. 


JOYCE NIZZARI Another of Bunny Yeoger's finds, December 1958's 
Playmate (above) become a Bunny herself—in Playboy Club cotfentail— 
before wedding actor Jack Hogan of the “Combat” series. Joyce and 
Jack live on Oahu; both did “Hawaii Five-O” segments last season. 


JAYNE MANSFIELD When she appeared anonymously as Miss Feb- 
ruary 1955, Jayne (left) was an unknown actress from Texas. Readers 
wrote in asking her name; praducers, too, showed interes! and a rale. 
in Broadway's "Will Success Spail Rack Hunter?" launched her career. 


103 


GINGER YOUNG Our centerfold selection for Moy 1960, Ginger 
(above) was another of топу stor-struck Playmates. This green-eyed 
redhead impressed viewers of several {ор television productions of the 
fime, notably “The Steve Allen Show” and "The Jerry Lewis Show." 


STELLA STEVENS An oble aciross who's still every inch оз beautiful 
оз when she was Miss Janvary 1960, Stella (right) hos ployed opposite 
many of Hollywood's top leading men, from Glenn Ford Io Gene Hock- 
man. She's currently the female load in Cineramo's comedy “Arnold.” 


ELLEN STRATTON Our first Playmate of the Yaar, Ellon (lef) wos 
working as a legal secreiary when we invited her to be Miss December 
1959. Ellen subsequently traded in her steno pod for a Bunny Cos- 
tume in Chicogo—and still later became a successful New York model. 


YVETTE VICKERS Miss July 1959 (below), photographed for our goto- 
fold by the ubiquitous Russ Meyer, wos a devotee of then-lashionable 
beatnik coffeehouses who went on fo a career in films (none of them 
Meyer's) ronging from “Attack cf the 50-Foot Woman" to “Hud.” 


HEIDI BECKER At the time of her June 1961 magazine appearance, 
Heidi (right) had spent only four years in this country. A native of 
Austria, she emigrated to Wisconsin at 16, became a Milwaukee hair 
stylist and loter moved west fo Los Angeles, where she was a Bunny. 


CHRISTA SPECK An L.A. bank secretory, German-born Christa (below) 
became friends with Heidi before making PlaYsoY's pages. Miss Sep- 
tember 1961 wos chosen Playmate of the Year, then married puppet- 
cor Marly Krofft, whose “Lidsville is a kids’ hit Saturdays on МЕСТУ. 


CHRISTINE WILLIAMS I! may be true that goed things come in small 
pockages, but Christine (above) is living proof that they come in tall 
ones, foo. Chris, Miss October 1963, stands six feet in bare feel. Film 
fans moy recall her as a showgirl in Barbro Streisand's "Funny Girl.” 


JUNE COCHRAN A winning smile ond other obvious attributes not 
only made June (left) our December 1962 Playmate but won her the 
title of Miss Indiana in the 1961 Miss Universe pageant and in the 1962 
Miss World competition. She was 1963's Playmate of the Year as well. 


105 


DONNA MICHELLE Ore 
of the all-time most popu- 
lor Ploymotes, Miss De- 
tomber 1963 (right) was 
discovered in the cast of 
a high school ploy. After 
reigning as Ploymate of 
the Yeor, she went on to 
films, IV, summer stock 
and a pholo business. 


worked as o Bonny in ТГ 
Miomi and Chicago be- БШ 
fore posing for PLAYBOY'S 
June 1963 gotefold. Con- 
nie (below) has olso been 
ап Oleg Cassini model 
and the siar of several 
films, including a horror 
movie, “The Blood Feast.” 


CHINA LEE Miss Augus! 1964 (above) is talented (remember her in 
Woody Allen's "What's Up, Tiger Шу"), efficient (she's trained hun- 
dreds of Bunnies) and athletic (she pitched New York cotfontoils lo the 
1963 Broodway Show League fille). No wonder Mort Sahl married her. 


NANCY SCOTT When we found Nancy (left) and persuaded her to 
become Miss March 1964, she was working as о medical technician 
for o tos Angeles doctor. Shortly thereofter, she decided to chonge 
careers ond suited up as a VIP Room Bunny in the LA. Playboy Club. 


ALLSON PARKS After 
our October 1965 gole- 
fold girl (left) won the 
crown of Playmate of the 
Year—1966, she spent 
time enjoying her prizes, 
notably а set of flying 
lessons, then became a 
model ond a regular 
on “Playboy After Dark.” 


JENNIFER JACKSON Our 
first black Ploymote (be- 
low) was c college co- 
ed and, along with hor 
twin sister, Jon, a Bunny 
in the Chicago Playboy 
Club when she adomed 
the centerfold in March 
1965. Jennifer loter mod- 
eled in New York City. 


JO COLLINS Miss December 1964's life is never dull, Jo (above) be- 
come Playmate of ihe Year, got sent to Vietnam, wed (and split from) 
boseball stor Bo Belinsky, was hoaxed into a widely publicized date 
with о fake P.O.W. and is now Ploymote-Bunny Promotion Manager. 


DINAH WILLIS Most of the time, it doesnt pay to write in ond osk for 
o chance to be a Ploymote; usually, our misses of the month are found 
by professional photographers. A New Mexico poodle trimmer—loter 
a Bunny—Dinoh Willis of December 1965 (right) wosa notable exception. 


USA BAKER Photographer Bill Figge, one of California's champion 
Playmate scouts, happened upon her at с wedding; the bridesmaid 
shortly was transformed into Miss November 1966, Lisa (above) learned 
to ski os Playmate of the Year, ond schussing is now her favorite sport. 


ANGELA DORIAN Thnt's the name her press ogent invented for Miss 
September 1967—and Playmate of the Year—1968 (right). She's used 
her real one, Victoria Vetri, in films such as “Rosemary's Baby,” “When 
Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth,” “Group Marriage" and “The Honey Factor.” 


DOLLY READ One of six British Bunnies who came to Chicago to learn 
how fo staff Ployboy’s London Club, Mist Moy 1966 (lef?) spent а 
decade in drama school in Brisiol-—which paid off with a role in "Be- 
yond the Valley of the Dolls.” She's now Mrs. Dick ("Laugh-In") Martin, 


GWEN WONG Argyles are coming back, but April 1967's Playmate 
never went out of style. One of the first Jo! Bunnies on Hugh Hefnor's 
plone, Gwen (below) combines cottontailing о? the new Playboy Club 
in Century City with a rapidly growing interior-decorating business. 


DE DE LIND Maybe it’s the sun-blonde hair, or the freckles, or the wide- 
screen smile, or all of the above, but Miss Augus! 1967, a former 
feen-magazine model (right), has drawn more fon mail—1610 letters, 
at latest couni—Ihan any other Playmate in the magazine's history. 


CYNTHIA MYERS “Wholly Toledo!” we exclaimed, typographicolly, 
over the abundant attributes of our December 1968 Playmate. Cynthia 
(below) landed one of the leading roles in "Beyond the Volley of the 
Dolls'"—ond a place in the heart and home of co-star Michael Blodgett. 


MAJKEN HAUGEDAL—"“Just 
coll me Mike,” Danish-born 
Maiken (above) advised after 
gaining international attention 
оз our October 1968 Play- 
mate. At that time а Bunny in 


-the Montreal Club, Majken left 


to vacation in Scandinavia, 
returning lo Canada to a 
busy schedule of modeling. 


CONNIE KRESKI The delec- 
toble nymph in the fille role 
of Anthony Newley's film “Con 
Heironymus Merkin Ever For- 
get Mercy Humppe and Find 
True Hoppiness?,” Miss Janu- 
огу 1968 ond Playmate of the 
Year—1969 (left) has been 
actor James Coan's constant 
companion in recent months. 


SHARON CLARK She was trucking cround on Truk, teaching English 
to Micronesian students, when we photographed her as Augus! 1970's 
galefold personality. Sharon (righi) returned to California, became 
Playmate of the Year—1971, and lives, we hear, happily ever after. 


MARY AND MADELEINE COLLINSON Our only twin Playmates, the 
Collinson sisters—that’s Mary at left and Madeleine at right below— 
won dual billing on PLAYBOY's October 1970 centerfold. Ex-models from 
Malta, they're now in films (“The Love Machine," “Т th 


CLAUDIA JENNINGS Self-styled Queen of Ње B Movies ("Truck Stop 
Woman” and seven others), Miss November 1969 and Playmate of 
the Yeor—1970 (above) can now afford to await roles more in keeping 
with abilities that have rated raves even from acerbic critic John Simon. 


UV LINDELAND Her name, in her native Norwegian, means "life.'^ 
And 1972's Playmate of the Year (left), first seen here as January 1971's 
choice, enjoys hers. She's done summer stock (""Marriage-Go-Round"') 
end a movie ("Save the Tiger”), under the name liv Von Linden. 


ЦЕКО ENGLISH This Joponese-American beculy (above) represented 
Okinawa іп the Miss Universe confes! before PLAYtOY spotted her. 
She's since been a Bunny in the Atlanta ond Chicogo clubs, Miss 
June 1971 ond is now a high-flying hostess on our Big Bunny jet. 


MARILYN COLE She was just о skinny kid from Portsmouth, on the 
English seacoast. Then Marilyn (right) grew up—spectacularly—moved 
fo London. became a Bunny, then London Club's PR girl, Jonuory 
1972's Playmate and finally Playmate of the Year—1973. Good show. 


KAREN CHRISTY This girl from Abilene sow o Bunny-recruitment od in 
a Dallas newspoper ond shortly thereafter found herself o Windy 
City cottontail. Today, Miss December 1971 (left) is a model and 
Hefner's favorite backgammon partner at Chicago's Playboy Mansion. 


JANICE PENNINGTON When first we met Janice (below) ond invited 
her to become Miss Moy 1971, she was making television guest shots— 
on “Lough-In,” on specials with Bob Hope and other shows. Now she's a 
regular on CBS-TV's long-running daytime series "The Price Is Right." 


was silently frantic, red-eyed. On one side 
this picket sign read THE AUTHOR OF THIS 
PLAY Is A FINK. On the other side it was 
CITRINE 15 A BETRAYER. This was reported 
in the Times. “POET AND ROOTERS PICKET 
PLAYWRIGHT.” 

But now on the night of his death, 
Humboldt had been 
in his stifling room, dr 
reading Yeats and Hegel and, in ad- 
dition to these visionary authors, the 
Daily News and the Post, kee] 
with Leonard Lyons and the M 
Farl, the National League. Used Car 
Prices, Banking News. As long as he had 
fingers, they would creep toward the 
world’s pulse. Then at about three a.m. 
(insomnia, he often used to say, is com- 
mon with ManicDepresives, he de- 
cided to take his garbage down. He was 
in the elevator with the pail when his 
heart atack began. When the pain 
struck, he pressed all the buttons, appar- 
ently, including the alarm button. Bells 
rang, the door opened and he stumbled 
into a corridor. "There he fell, spilling 
cans, rinds, crusts and fighting for 
breath. He ripped off his shirt. He was 
removed in а police ambulance and was 
dead on arrival at the hospital. 

At the time of which I speak—or 
didn’t I speak of a time?—T started out 
one morning to see Murra, my account- 
ant, and I found that my Mercedes Benz 
had been attacked in the night. Not just. 
scratched or dented by a careless driver- 
Somebody had pounded it all over, I 
assume with baseball bats, and this ex- 
pensive car, no longer new but worth 
$14,000 three years ago, had been mauled 
with a ferocity difficult to grasp—to 
grasp. E mean, in an aesthetic sense, for 
these Mercedes coupes are beautiful, the 
silver-gray ones in particular. 

My elegant car, the shimmering silver 
motor tureen that I had had no business 
to buy—a tense, tall, mustached person 
like me, hardly stable enough to drive 
this treasure, much less own title to it. I 
nearly broke down—appalled, almost 
swooning. Because everything!—the deli- 
cate roof with its sliding panel, the fend- 
ers, hood, trunk, doors, locks, lights— 
had been beaten and clubbed. The win- 
dows were shatterproof, so they held up. 
but they looked spat on all over. They 
were covered with white fracture blooms, 
they had a kind of crystalline internal 
hemorrhage. I felt like a man covered 
with tropical rash and out of his head 
with the itch thrust under a scalding 
shower. Someone had done to my car as I 
had heard rats did in warehouses, running 
wild, racing through by the thousands and 
tearing open sacks of flour for the hell of 
it. I felt a similar rip at my heart, and as 
if my blood were pouring out. The ma 
chine belonged to a time when my in- 
112 come was in excess of $100,000. 


PLAYBOY 


HUMBOLDTS GIFT кылг rom page s) 


First of all, how could such a thing 
happen on the street? How could anyone 
get away with such a clatter in the mid- 
dle of the night? It must have sounded 
like rivet guns. The car was parked 
around the corner from my high-rise, in 
a sort of lane. But wouldn't the doorman 
have heard the racket? 

1 knew perfectly well who was respon- 
sible for this assault. I had been warned 
any number of times that something was 
going to happen. But I must be the orig- 
nal Hear No Evil, the second monkey. 
Late at night the phone often rang 
and when I picked up the receiver, my 
caller was already yelling, “Citrine! You! 
Citrine!” 

“Yes? Yes? What?" 

“You know what, you son of a bitch. 
Look what you're doing to me. Pay me. 

“Doing to you?” 

“To mel You fucking-A right. The 
check you stopped was to me, wasn’t it? 
Make good, Charlie. Make that lousy 
check good. 1 warn you. Don't force me 
10 do something.” 

“I was fast asleep. I'm trying to wake 
up. Mr.” 

“No names. Get smart for once in your 
life. Jesus, is it ever time. No-no, no 
names! All we're going to talk about is a 
stopped check. Four hundred and fifty 
bucks. That's the only subject.” 

These gangster threats in the night, 
against me—mel Of all people! А pecul- 
jar soul and, in my own mind, almost 
comically innocent—made me laugh. 
Some people are provoked by the way I 
laugh. I should have checked myself. 
“Christ,” he said, “you sound like the 
alarm going off in one of those jewelry 
stores that sell to the niggers on State 
Street. Man, you may be in Who's Who, 
but that’s not a normal way to laugh. Lis- 
ten, Citrine, you lost this dough to me in 
a poker game, and you'll say that you 
were drunk, but that's a lot of crap. I 
took your check, I don't give a shit about 
the lousy money, but 1 won't hold still 
for a slap in the face.” 

“You know why I stopped payment. 
You and your buddy were cheating.” 

‘Could you prove that?” 

“The host saw. He says you cheated. 
George swears that you were flashing 
cards to each other.” 

“So why didn't he speak up, that dumb 
prick! Why didn't he stop the game?" 

He may have been scared to." 

“Who, that health fiend, with all that 
color in his face? For Christ's sake, he 
looks like an apple, with all that jogging 
five miles a day and the vitamins he 
takes, but he has no guts. If we cheated, 
he should have thrown us out.” 

“Well,” I said, “it wasn't a good eve- 
ning. I was high, though you don't seem 
to believe it. Nobody was very rational. 
Everybody was out of character. 1 think 
we should just forget it.” 


“What? I have to hear from my bank 
about your stop order, which is like a 
kick in the ass, and then drop it? You 
k I'm a punk? I'm sorry now we got 
into all that talk about education, I men- 
tioned that I went to that cow college 
outside Moline. I saw the look on your 
face when 1 told the name of my Catholic 
college. 

“What's college got to do with it?” 

"Don't you understand what you're 
doing to me? You've written all that 
stuff. You're supposed to be famous. 
But you dumb asshole, don't you under- 
stand?” 

“You wake me at two in the morning 
and ask me to understand. Can't we meet 
in the daytime, when my head is dear?” 

“No more talk, day or night. Make 
good that check or I lower the boom on 
you. When I say boom. I mean boom." 

Г received several such calls, alway: 
the small hours, from Rinaldo Cantabile. 
In this respect he resembled the late Von 
Humboldt Fleisher. Humboldt had often 
used the dramatic properties of night to 
bully and harass people. Now, I had sev- 
eral times discussed this Cantabile matter 
with George Swicbel, at whose kitchen 
table we had played poker. It was George 
who prevented me from paying the debt. 
He had ordered me to stop my check. 
George was an old friend, a businessman, 
who knew or said he knew the ways of 
the underworld. For many years he had 
wised me up. He had told me about 
whores and brothels. the track. machine 
politics, the racket unions and the Syndi 
cate. He was, so to speak, my expert, my 
authority, and his reputation was at 
stake. George and I had sat next to each 
other in the fifth grade at the Chopin 
Grammar School near Western Avenue. 
Dear old school days. For 45 years we had 
been friends. So what George told me 
carried weight. "You don't pay him," he 
said. He then repeated in a loud shout, 
“Don't pay, Charlie! Those punks were 
cheating, cheating, cheating; I never saw 
anything more raw." 

“But, George, Cantabile wants to 
know why you didn’t call him on ht 
away. Honestly, I think he has a point. 

"He's got nothing. He's nobody. I 
shouldn't have let him into my game. If 
he'd lost three bucks, we'd be chasing 
him still. Also, half the time he's spaced 
out on drugs. You were in no condition 
to notice, Cha but Cantabile was 
talking a mile a minute about literature, 
psychology, the Book-of-the-Month Club, 
and you"— George laughed with his spa- 
cious, breathy laugh—"talked about ev- 
erything I'd warned you not to. For 
instance, my past, my family, your di- 
vorce, my divorce, You mentioned a lot 
about yourself and your ideas—ideas no- 
body understood one milligram of. Also 
about how we got taken in Africa on that 
beryllium-mine investment.” 

“Well, I must have been exceptionally 

(continued on page 196) 


LIBRA (The Scales] 


YOUR HORRORSCOPE 


humor 
BY JOHN BLUMENTHAL 


CANCER (Tho Crab 


at last, someone has had the guts io step on 
astrolog ys rose-colored glasses—so brace yourself, buster 


IN THESE TURBULENT TIMES of ours, we are but fragile, sensitive souls cast upon a stormy sea. We like to be 
pampered and coddled and made to think that everything will be all right—even if it won't. Our clergymen 
tell us that our wasted, meaningless lives have some higher purpose. Our Government tells us that peace and 
prosperity are just around the corner, Our psychiatrists inflate our ailing egos. But the worst optimist is the 
astrologer, who each month predicts what joyous and wonderful things lie ahead for us, Flip through your 
magazine horoscope someday—you'll see that it is either sickeningly optimistic (continued on page 228) 


ILLUSTRATION BY CHARLES RODRIGUES 


(wey ец) SV 


113 


[sss n approaches, corks will pop from well.iced 
bottles and a pale. luminescent beverage will gush forth in 
a glory of foam and froth. The mood definitely will be cham- 
pagne. but the wine may or may not be. Americans tend 
to call every wine that bubbles champagne and at one time 
that was the only sparkling wine. But today the designation 
is generally reserved for the elegant, somewhat austere wines 
of the Champagne region of France, a relatively small area 90 
miles east of Paris. For reasons of treaty and trade agreement, 
Spanish sparkling wines are labeled espurnoso, German effer- 
vescents are Sekt or Schaumuwein, Italian are spumante and 
French sparklers grown outside the designated area are called 
vins mousseux. The United States is one of the few countries 
where the name is not forbidden, but wines so labeled must 


THE OTHER 
BUBBLIES 


drink By EMANUEL GREENBERG 


making the case for wines 
that sparkle plenty but aren’t champagne 


be identified as American champagne, California champagne 
or New York State champagne 

World-wide demand for French champagne, combined 
with dollar deval: ion, has prices at almost punitive levels. 
Fortunately, nearly cyery area that produces still wines also 
produces sparklers, with some very enticing specimens among 
them. They may not have French champagne’s cachet, but 
neither do they carry its heavy tag. 

The Loire valley, particularly Vouvray, Saumur and Anjou, 
is a fertile source of fine effervescents. Caterers often serve 
them at “champagne” breakfasts and wedding receptions, i 
variably to rave reviews. They're round, soft, lightly sweet, 
with a charming, fruity aroma characteristic of the chenin 
blanc, the most prolific grape of the region. Interestingly 
enough, "poor" years make bewer sparkling wines than 
“good” years in this area. Priced at about half the cost of 
champagnes, these Loire-valley sparklers are prime candidates 
for anyone's year-end fete. 

Some blanc de blancs are shipped under the Roger Gouin 
and Ackerman labels. Made from white (blanc) grapes, they 
tend to be lighter, drier and more tempered than wines bear 
ing district names. Both firms market sparkling vouvrays 
rosés, and Ackerman also bottles an inviting blanc 18 
which has more body and flavor than its blanc de blancs. 

Loire sparklers are primarily sipping wines, but locals will 
occasionally spike one of the drier offerings with a dash of 
crème de cassis, to make a somewhat boisterous kir. Another 

andby of the region, Sparkling Nectarose, has been trans- 
formed into a still frisky, though less frenetic, Crackling Nec- 
tarose, and seems all the better for the change. It's fairly sweet, 
beguiling and fun, Just don't take it seriously. 

Sparkling burgundy is familiar as a red and, less frequently, 
as an oeil-de-perdrix. But in the past seven or eight years, 
sparkling white burgundies have come into prominence. A 
brand named Kriter is now the largest-selling sparkling wine 
in France and Great Britain, and it's doin, ly in the 
States, thank you. Enthusiasts have compared Kriter to cham- 
рабте, which it is not. But it's very good, fairly light and soft, 
without champagne’s brilliant, (continued оп page 246) 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD STEEDMAN 


ns 


116 


A NURSERY TALE (continued from page 100) 


now slightly in profile; that dipping line 
no words, of course, could describe. She 
started running, showing nice legs, and 
the puppy tumbled in her wake like a 
woolly ball. In sudden awareness of his 
miraculous might, Erwin caught his 
breath and awaited the promised signal. 
At that moment, the girl turned her head 
as she ran and flashed a smile at the 
plump little creature that could. barely 
keep up with her. 

“Number one,” Erwin said to himself 
with unwonted complacency and got up 
from his bench. 

He followed the graveled path with 
scraping footsteps, in gaudy, reddish- 
yellow shoes worn only on Sundays. He 
left the oasis of the diminutive park and 
crossed over to Amadeus Boulevard. Did 
his eyes rove? Oh, they did. But, maybe, 
because the girl in white had somehow 
left a sunnier mark than any remem- 
hered impression, some dancing blind 
spot prevented him from finding another 
sweetheart. Soon, however. the blot dis- 
solved, and near a glazed pillar with the 
tramway timetable our friend observed 
two young ladies—sisters, or even twins, 
to judge by their striking resemblance— 
who were discussing a streetcar route in 
vibrant, echoing voices. Both were small 
and slim, dressed in black silk, with saucy 
eyes and painted lips. 

“That’s exactly the tram you want.” 
onc of them kept saying- 

“Both, please,” Erwin 
quickly. 

“Yes, of course,” said the other in 
response to her sister's words. 

Erwin continued along the boulevard. 
He knew all the smart streets where the 
best possibilities existed. 
“Three,” he said to himsel 
ber. So far so good. And il 
night right now" 

Swinging her handbag, she was coming 
down the steps of the Leilla, one of the 
best local hotels. Her big blue-chinned 
companion slowed down behind her to 
light his cigar. The lady was lovely, hat- 
less, bob-haired, with a fringe on her 
forehead that made her look like a boy 
actor in the part of а damsel. As she went 
by, now closely escorted by our ridiculous 

val, Erwin remarked simultaneously 
the crimson artificial rose in the lapel of 
her jacket and the advertisement on a 
billboard: a blond-mustached Turk and, 
in large leucrs, the word yest, under 
which it said in smaller characters: 1 
SMOKE ONLY THE ROSE OF "THE ORIENT. 

"That made four, divisible by two, and 
Erwin felt eager to restore the odd-num. 
ber rigmarole without delay. In a lane 
off the boulevard. there was a cheap res- 
taurant that he sometimes frequented on 
Sundays when sick of his landlady's fare. 
Among the girls he had happened to note 
at one time or another there had been a 
wench who worked in that place. He en- 


requested 


“Odd num- 


were mid. 


tered and ordered his favorite dish: 
blood sausage and sauerkraut. His table 
was next to the telephone. A man in a 
bowler called a number and started to 
jabber as ardently as a hound that has 
picked up the scent of a hare. Erwin's 
Blance wandered toward the bar—and 
there was the girl he had scen three or 
four times before. She was beautiful in a 
drab, freckled way, if beauty can be drab- 
ly russet. As she raised her bare arms to 
place her washed beer steins, he saw the 
red tufts of her armpits. 

“All right, all right!” barked the man 
into the mouthpiece. 

With a sigh of relief enriched by a 
belch, Erwin left the restaurant. He felt 
heavy and in need of a nap. To tell the 
truth, the new shoes pinched like crabs 
The weather had changed. The air was 
sultry. Great domed clouds grew and 
crowded one another in the hot sky, The 
streets were becoming deserted. One 
could feel the houses fill to the brim with 
Sunday-afternoon snores. Erwin boarded 
a streetcar. 

"The tram started to roll. Erwin turned 
his pale face, shining with sweat, to the 
window, but no girls walked. While pay- 
ing his fare he noticed. on the other side 
of the aisle, a woman sitting with her 
back to him, She wore a black-velvet hat 
and a light frock patterned with inter- 
twined chrysanthemums against a semi- 
transparent mauve background through 
which showed the shoulder straps of her 
bodice. The lady's statuesque bulk made 
Erwin curious to glimpse her face, When 
her hat moved and, like a black ship, 
started to turn, he first looked away as 
usual, glanced in feigned abstraction at 
a youth sitting opp him, at his own 
fingernails, at a red-cheeked little old 
man dozing in the rear of the car and, 
having thus established a point of depar 
ture justifying further castings around, 
Erwin shifted his casual gaze to the lady 
now looking his way. It was Frau Monde. 
Her full, noJonger-young face was blotch- 
ily flushed from the heat, her mannish 
eyebrows bristled above her piercing 
prismatic eyes, a slightly sardonic smile 
curled up the comers of her compressed 


lip: 

4 she said in her soft 
husky voice. "Come sit over here. Now 
we can have a chat. How are things 
going?” 

“Only five,” replied Erwin with em- 
barrassment. 

“Excellent. An odd number. I would 
advise you to stop there. And at mid- 
єз, I don't think I told you— 

you are to come to Hofi- 
mann Street. Know where that is? Look 
between number twelve and number 
fourteen. The 1 lot there will be re- 
placed by a villa with a walled 
‘The girls of your choice will be 
for you on cushions and rugs. 1 shall 


шесі you at the garden gatc—but it is 
understood,” she added with a subtle 
smile, “I shan't intrude. You'll remember 
the address? There will be a brand-new 
streetlight in front of the gate." 

“Oh, one thing,” said Erwin, collecting 
his courage. “Let them be dressed at 
first—]. mean, let them look just as they 
were when 1 chose them—and let them be 
very merry and lovin 

“Why, naturally,” she replied. "Every- 
thing will be just as you wish, whether 
you tell me or not. Otherwise, there was 
no point in starting the whole business, 
n'est-ce pas? Confess, though, my dear 
boy—you were on the very brink of en- 
rolling me in your harem. No, no, have 
no fear, I am kidding you. Well, that's 
your stop. Very wise to call it a day. Five 
is fine. See you a few secs after midnight, 
haha.” 


Upon reaching his room, Frwin took 
off his shoes and stretched out on the 
bed. He woke up toward evening. A mel- 
lifluous tenor at full blast streamed from 
a neighbor's phonograph: “I vant to be 


happee——" 
i ‘Number 


one, the maiden in white, she's the most 
artless of the lot. I may have been a little 
hasty. Oh, well, no harm done. Then the 
twins near the pillar of glass. Gay, paint- 
ed young things. With them I'm sure to 
have fun. Then number four, Leilla the 
rose, resembling a boy. That’s, perhaps, 
the hest one. And. finally. the fox in the 
alchouse. Not bad, cither. But only five. 
Thats not very many!” 

He lay prone for a while with bis 
hands behind his head, listening to the 
tenor, who kept wanting to be happy: 

“Five. No, that’s absurd. Pity it’s not 
Monday morning: Those three shopgitls 
the other day—oh, there are so many 
more beauties waiting to be found! And 
1 can always throw in a streetwalker at 
the last moment.” 

Enwin put on his regular pair of shoes, 
brushed his hair and hurried out 

By nine o'clock, he had collected two 
more. One of them he noticed in a café 
where he had a sandwich and two drams 
of Dutch gin. She was talking with great 
animation to her companion, a beard 
fingering foreigner, in an impenetrable 
language—Polish or Russian—and her 
pray eyes had a slight slant, her thin aqui 
Tine nose wrinkled when she laughed, and 
her elegant legs were exposed to the knee. 
While Erwin watched her quick gestures, 
the reckless way in which she tap-tapped 
cigarette ash all over the table, a German 
word, like a window, flashed open in her 
Slavic speech and this chance word (of- 
fenbar) was the “evident” sign. The 
other girl. number seven on the list. 
tuned up at the Chinese-style entrance 
of a small amusement park. She wore a 
scarlet blouse with a brightgrcen skirt, 
and her bare neck swelled as she shrieked 

(continued on page 268) 


IS IT NICE 
TO HAVE SEX 
WITHA 
BRUSSELS SPROUT? 


direct from vienna, 

a foolproof quiz that will 
reveal what you never knew 
about your sexual preferences, your 
sexual fantasies and the 
geography of bolivia 


humor 


pIsTRESSINGLY high percentage 
of concerned and intelligent 
young men may be seen these 
days wande the streets in a di- 
sheveled manner, eyes wild and darting, 
seeking the а a difficult and pro- 
found quest "Why am I so horny 
all the time?" In response to this and re- 
lated queries, and in direct consequence 
of today's breezy climate of sexual en- 
lightenment, we herewith publish the 
latest and most comprehensive example 
in the current trend of selfanalysis 
through print: the Wurst-Besser Com- 
plete and Inclusive Sexual Maladjust- 
ment Lest, named after two of the most 
respected toilers in the field of sexual 
theory. Dr. Teman Wurst is professor 
of secretions at the University of Vienna 
and holds the degree of D-T. (doctor 
of tumescence) at that institution, earned 
through his brilliant work in kissing and 
tickling. Dr. Anna Besser is most widely 
known for having developed the Reme- 
dial Fondling Program now used by 
many therapists; in addition, she has a 
limited practice in New York and once 
shared a cab with Wilhelm Reich. Work- 
ing together, Drs. Wurst and Besser ar- 
rived at their startling insights into 
human sexual practices utilizing the sim- 
ple yet bold technique of observing actual 
couples during the act of intercourse, 
often through terrestrial telescopes. This 
test is based on their assumption (now 
generally accepted) that we are ail quite 
ЗИ and that our happiness depends upon 
the extent of the illness and our adjust- 
ment to it, Whether you're a social ninny, 
a narcissist, a neurotic or merely а 
garden-variety necrophiliac, the following 
questionnaire, compiled by 2 team of 
dedicated researchers, all wearing lab 
coats, will help you determine how sex- 
ually maladjusted you really arc. Answer 
all the questions, selecting whichever 
answer most closely approximates your 
honest response. At the end of the test 
you'll find a discussion, scoring and ex- 
planatory section. Start now, do not cheat 
or rub out your answers. 


PART L SEXUAL ATTITUDES—FORMATIVE 


Professor Vilmos “Happy” Wedekind, 
a pioneer in the field of child molestation, 
has stated that “So soon do we as children 
consider sex, as therefore is it so extreme- 
ly early in the tiny mind, that it is for 
many to deal with, some difficulty” (trans- 
lation by Helga Wedekind). Few psychia- 
tists can argue with this, and the first 
part of the quiz will reveal the sources of 
your sexual temperament. 

1. Where do babies come from? 

A. Puerto Rico. 

B. The doctor brings them in a 
little black bag. 

С. When a man and a woman wish 
to expressa mature, abiding love 
for cach other, they go out and 
rent a baby. 


D. Noopinion. 
2. Babies are: 
A. Punishment; a visitation from 
God, like the Plague of Toads. 
Cuddly-wuddly little numkins. 
The random result of spermato- 
zoic implantation of various ova. 
D. Of no interest until they can 
kick in for part of the rent. 
3. As a child, did you have any siblings? 
A. None. 
В. One. 
C. Two. 
D. ‘Three or more. 
4. Were you pleased with that situation? 
A. Yes. 
B. No. 
C. Confused. 
5. Did you play with your sibling? 
A. Alot. 
B. Occasionally. 
C. Rarely. 


от 


(continued overleaf) 


emums against a semi- 
we background through 
he shoulder straps of her 
уз statuesque bulk made 

glimpse her face. When 
and, like a black ship, 
he first looked away as 
in feigned abstraction at 
opposite him, at his own 
red-checked little old 


is casual gaze to the lady 
way. It was Frau Monde, 
young face was blotch- 

the heat, her mannish 
ed above her piercing 
a slightly sardonic smile 
orners of her compressed 


n,” she said in her soft 
оте sit over here. Now 
chat How are things 


replied Erwin with em- 


PLAYBOY 


120 


E 


What is a sibling? 
A. A male member. 
B. A family member. 
C. Present indicative of the verb to 
sibble. 
D. Like a spider, only with more 
legs. 
7. How many pleasant memories do you 
retain from your childhood? 
A. One. 
B. Two. 
C. Buckle my. 
D. Shoe. 

. Until the age of seven (what Wede- 

id calls “those wonderful, sick 
years"), did your parents require you 
to masturbate? 

A. Occasionally. 
B. Rarely. 
C. Only when 1 couldn't get regu- 
lar. normal sex. 
9. After the age of seven, how frequently 
did you masturbate? 
A. Daily. 
B. Hourly. 
C. Never stopped 

10. During puberty, did you examine 
your developing body, including 
genitalia? 

A. Yes. 
B. No. 
11. If yes, indicate what you used: 
A. Eyes and hands. 
B. Dental mirror. 
C. Sniperscope. 
D. Calipers. 
Е. Tracing paper and charcoal. 

12. As an adolescent, did you ever make a 
brass rubbing of the privates of a 
close friend? 

A. Never. 

B. Sometimes. 

C. Frequently. 

13. Masturbation: 

A. Makes you blind. 

B. Makes you nearsighted only if 
you don't quit early enough. 

C. Causes pornography. 

D. Is illegal in several Northern 
states and Canada. 

E. Is encouraged in several South- 
ern states and Mexico. 

14. Are you using this questionnaire to 

masturbate with? 

A. Huh? 

B. No, no—see? Both my hands 
are on the desk. 

C. Have a headache 


= 


PART 2. SEXUAL ATITTUDES—ADULT 
‘This section is designed to determine 
your mature sexual attitudes, if any, and 
Teveal any abnormalities or obsessions. 
Do not look at the paper of the person 
sitting next to you. Answer quickly, 
15. What is the silliest part of the male 
anatomy? 

A. Hand. 

B. Nose. 

C. Gland of Cowper. 

D. Sex organ. 

E. Upper lip. 


16. How long should the male organ be? 
A. At least four inches. 
B. At least five inches. 
С. At least six inches. 
D. At least seven inches. 
17. What is the capital of Bolivia? 
A. Bolivia. 
B. Lima. 
C. Sucre. 
D. At least nine inches. 

18. The best lubricant for sex is: 
A. Your own saliva. 
B. The saliva of a bystander. 
С. The poems of Rod McKuen. 
D. The Lawrence Welk recording 

of Bubbles in the Wine. 

19. The missionary position is: 

A. Manon top. 

B. Woman on top. 

C. Both on top, missionary under- 
neath. 

D. Praying during intercourse. 

20. Coitus interruptus refers to that part 
of the Catholic Mass that occurs after 
the response. 

A. True. 
B. False. 
21. During normal sex, you usually 
climax: 
A. First. 
B. Second. 
C. Third. 
D. Fourth or other. 

22. During sex, you and your partner 
reach orgasm: 

A. Always, and simultancously. 

B. Never. but simultaneously. 

C. Simultaneously, but in different 
cities. 
D. Orgasm? 1 never lose control. 

23. Directly after making love, you usual- 
ly like to: 

A. Have an orgasm. 

B. Have a complete and thorough 
physical examination, including 
X rays, liver-function tests and 
blood count. 

C. Smoke a large pipe. 

D. Eat a banana-and-peanut-butter 
sandwich. 

E. Introduce yourself. 

24. At the moment of climax, you often. 

A. Scream, “Into the boxcars, all of 
you!" 

B. Visualize a surgical glove stuffed 
with lentils. 

C. Become rigid and dammy, like 
a dead carp. 

D. Exclaim, "O rapture! O sublime 
. . . Such exceeding lubricity; I 
spend... I die!" 

25. The correct number of breasts for a 
woman is: 

А. Опе. 

B. Two. 

C. Threc. 

D. Any even number. 

26. The most unusual place you have 
ever had intercourse is: 

A. In the lavatory of a 747, 30,000 
feet above the Andes. 
B. In an inner tube at Lake Placid. 


C. In an inner tube, 30,000 feet 
above the Andes. 

D. On the afikomen, or ceremonial 
Passover matzoh. 

27. (To be answered by heterosexuals 
only.) 

1. If you were a homosexual (and 
don't be so sure, stud; nobody's 
100 percent anything), your idea 
of an evening's fun would be to: 

A. Go to the park and roll hetero- 
sexuals. 

B. Design tacky pants suits for 
suburban matrons. 

C. Mince around with your hands 
on your hips, saying “Dearie.” 

D. Take a weekend pack trip 
across John Wayne. 

(Io be answered by homosexuals 
only.) 
If you were a heterosexual (and 
you probably are; just look deep 
within yourself), your idea of an 
evening's fun would be to: 

A. Go to the park and roll hetero- 
sexuals. 

B. Bomb the hell out of Cambo- 
dia, just to teach them a lesson. 

C. Go to a locker room and com- 
pare talcum powder with the 
fellows. 

D. Trade punches with an elderly 
lady. 

28. (Answer quickly and honesily.) 

1. Yellow-check trousers with pleats 

are "all reer!” 
A. True. 
B. False. 

2. Sen Sen is sure-fire with the 
ladies. 

A. True. 
B. False. 

3. Spooning on the first date is OK, 

but only up to “first base.” 
A. True. 
B. False. 

4. Any freak scene with more than 
two chicks can get heavy unless 
one of them swings both ways. 

A. Truc. 
B. False. 
PART 3. FANTASY LIFE— 
WAKING FANTASIES 
Recent studies prove that over 96 per 
cent of all automobile accidents inyolve 
daydreaming drivers engaged in reveries 
of sensational sex with a Swedish dental 
assistant named Kristin. The power of 
these waking fantasies, or, as the Swiss 
call them, daydreams, is so great that the 
normal senses are overpowered and the 
hapless motorist doesn't see or hear that 
semitrailer barreling toward him. The re- 
sult is often a late appointment, embar- 
rassment or death. Answer the following 
to reveal important aspects of your fan- 
tasy life. 
29, Have you ever thought about kissing 
a horse? Be honest. 


(continued on page 262) 


wast, mystenions, forbidding 
thal was oup intrepid explorer, 
afina didnt stand a shanga 


article Ey ROBERT MORLEY OF ALL THE MADNESS I experienced as a child, nothing reached a higher 


quotient of insanity than the geography lessons. I was instructed to draw the course of the Euphrates River and to mark and 
name the principal tributaries, Who was I at the age of eight to decide the relative eminence of rivers? I still do not know 
where the Euphrates rises and falls. I sometimes wonder whether, indeed, the Euphrates is still rising and falling, so scldom do 
I hear it mentioned. And even today, as I travel the globe, I am still trying to hide the fact that I have only the haziest idea of 
how the world fits together and why, for example, when flying out of Britain, 1 must pause at Frankfurt en route to Kenya. I 
had decided on Kenya for a holiday, because if one is to bask in the sun, it’s smart to get as close to the equator as possible, 
Mombasa is not only near the equator, it is thoroughly spoiled. 1 am not one for the unspoiled (continued on page 130) 


ILLUSTRATION BY CHRISTOPHER COREY 


PAINTED 
LADY 


international 
model-celebrity 
veruschka 
and photographer 
holger play 
a fascinating game 
of undress-ups 


З... OF PLAYBOY will по 
doubt recoll ten remorkoble pages in our 
January 1971 issue in which haute couture 
model-octress Veruschka was painted to 
lock like c panther, a snake and other slinky 
living things; then she droped her body 
over logs, wound it around tree limbs and 
generally behaved in a most olluring way. 
Because that was one of our most talked- 
about pictorials ever, we were delighted to 
welcome Veruschka and her paintbrush 
back for another exclusive PLAYBOY pictorial, 
So here she is—paint once more 
provocatively applied, her optical illusions 
more ingenious and captivating than 
ever—and we hope she'll be back again. 


Still more of Veruschka’s dazzling trompe l'oeils: Weoring 
black semigloss and an Avengeress-tough stare (opposite poge), 
in very faded jeans that go one better than skintight (middle) 
and posed on cloth, as a flamenco dancer (above). 


She had to be something of a contortionist, 
but Veruschka herself applied the paint 
for every “costume.” As a Thirties gangster, 
she shoots from the hip—and other places. 


Swishing a sleazy feather boa, stripper Veruschka 

wriggles out of her disappearing “costume.” Opposite poge: 
A blonde and glittery Veruschka brings off her most amazing 
characterization yet as she becomes the inimitable MM. 


PLAYBOY 


WR MOREL 0 PRESUME (continued from page 121) 


terrain, the empty beach, the thornbush, 
the flyblown kiosk with the lukewarm 
beverage. Give me the marble terrace, the 
steps leading down into the water. J can 
ignore the high-rise apartment at my 
back. Lam locking the other way. 

When I leave the water, I like elegant 
patio furnishings and a cool drink—not 
out of the coconut but from the refrigera- 
tor. I like the loving care of the barman, 
not the childlike friendliness of the 
noble savage. I am not interested in ecol- 
ogy. I refuse to worry about the fate of 
the spotted hartebeest. If it's had its day, 
that's all right with me. I shall manage 
without the creature. On the other hand, 
when it's hot, I prefer not to manage 
without ice and air conditioning. Why 
should 1? 

It was exceedingly hot in Mombasa. I 
had only to put my nose outside and the 
skin pecled. Fellow visitors coated their 
features with cream and wore plastic 
shields. My world was full of the chicken- 
mayonnaise crowd and I was content to 
lie in the shade behind some rocks and 
watch a honeymooning French couple 
play ches every aftemoon under a 
coconut tree. 

In the bar one evening 1 met a man 
who had a house in Lamu, a town farther 
up the East African coast toward Italian 
Somaliland; and the next morning I was 
flying there. I decided against making the 
journey byroad and dugout canoe through 
the mango swamps, as I didn’t fancy һау- 
ing to stand upright in the latter, watched 
by rapacious crocodiles, When we landed, 
the pilot warned us against taking photo- 
graphs of the ground staff, who were con- 
victs. They seemed remarkably young to 
be serving prison sentences. But farther 
along the path to the jetty and the 
motorboat that was to take us across the 
lagoon to the town itself, we came upon 
a more mature group breaking stones. 

In Lamu, I was welcomed by the cura- 
tor of the museum, who introduced me 
to his parrot. The parrot came from 
London and hadn't learned to fly, on 
account of a defective wing. Each after- 
noon at four local time, wl і 
shop closing time in Britain, the parrot 
insisted on being put to bed in a dark 
room with the door locked. Until that 
happened, he screamed. 

The rest of the town came from Alice 
in Wonderland. Once upon a time, Lamu 
was the richest port on the coast, with 
plumbing far in advance of anything Eu- 
rope had experienced up to then—in- 
cluding the bidet. Wealthy residents even 
drove gold rods into the walls of the 
houses by way of ostentation. Little re- 
mains of the elegant extravagance that 
demanded four slaves to a canopy as the 
local sherifs paraded the main street. The 
sherifs still parade, holding thcir own 
umbrellas; the sons of the prophets are 


180 everlastingly marrying the daughters of 


the faithful, and everlastingly divorcing 
them the пем morning. A night with a 
sherif for her virgin daughter. and moth- 
er goes to heaven, or so they tell her. 

A great deal remains in Lamu, includ- 
ing even the British. There are many 
cannons on the waterfront and a pletho- 
ra of bones in the sands beneath. Lamu 
played a home madi around 1800 
against the neighboring island of Pate 
and won 1700 to 6—a famous massacre, 
as when the tide went out suddenly, the 
away team couldn't get off the reef. 
Usually when Lamu lost, she lost to the 
cannibal tribes, the Portuguese, the Ethi- 
opians and, of course, the British. 

One afternoon I lunched on my hotel 
terrace and noticed the beach being pa- 
trolled by soldiers. The oldest of all the 
English residents had taken to exposing 
himself by the waters edge and the 
newly appointed district commissioner 
was determined for some reason to catch 
m in the act. "Will they shoot him?" T 
asked anxiously. They won't even catch 
him, I was told. His wife is keeping 
him indoors. 

Later, I signed the visitors’ book imme- 
diately below the Aga Khan, who had 
just left. There is one family in Lamu 
that subscribes to his faith and he had 
taken pains to meet them, but not while 
he was alone. If you are a follower of the 
Аваз and catch him alone, he must ac- 
cede to your request. The family was 
anxious to buy the local mosque at a 
knockdown price, knock it down and 
build a hotel. The Aga Khan was 
courteous, circumspect and perpetually 
accompanied on his walks along the 
waterfront. 

On the way back from Lamu I stopped 
in Ma Kenya, to lunch with the 
British and take tea with the Krauts. Na- 
tionalism is encouraged by the package 
tour. The Germans are winning hands 
down; there are at least four jumbo 
flights each week from Frankfurt. Of the 
Americans, there is little sign along the 
coast. They simply haven't the time to lie 
around in the sun; besides, that sort of 
life comes easier and cheaper at home. If 
they come to this part of Africa at all, it 
is to Mombasa or Nyali Beach, and then 
only for two or three nights, to rest up 
between safaris. Americans are in the 
game game, and how well they play it. 
‘The men try to look and dress like 
Stewart Granger; the women favor Dor- 
othy Lamour—the head turbaned, the 
figure sheathed in fiery African colors. 
‘They are armed with cameras, not rifles; 
zoom lenses, not cartridges. 

There is not really a great deal to buy 
in Africa, but Americans have a stab at 
shopping. Occasionally, they are stabbed 
themselves. One party, in particular, was 
nearly speared to death by the Masai be- 
cause they laughed too loudly and bent 


themselves double, pretending to have 
been wounded by the dancers’ spears. 
"The tribesmen, suddenly bored by audi. 
ence participation, decided to play it for 
real. None of the visitors was killed, 
but the guilty tribe was punished by 
being deprived of the dance concession 
for a spell. 

Some tourists also ask for trouble by 
stepping out of jeeps to feed an elephant 
the remains of a picnic lunch or by 
climbing down from a tree hut to proffer 
a leopard a drink. Punishment when it 
comes is condign; an elephant takes its 
time trampling а man to death. When 
it's finished, all that’s left is a thin, 
red mush. 

ОГ course. not all trouble is invited. 
"There can be no harm, surely, in tea on 
the lawn and no blame attached to any- 
one, except possibly the Jioness herself, if 
she chooses to hunt and catch a baboon 
among the chocolate biscuits and the but 
tered scones. ‘Two of my guests finished 
up in the wees and quite an old lady up 
to her neck in the pond,” Mr. Pascoe told 
me. Mr. Pascoe is manager of the appro- 
priately named Hunter's Lodge, which 
stands just to the side of the Nairobi- 
Mombasa highway. “We have a good 
many lions here,” he went on proudly, “I 
usually take guests for an evening ramble 
and we nearly always see something, even 
if it’s only a snake.” 

Water holes are a great feature of 
the game lodges. Floodlit and with a 
thoughtfully provided artificial salt lick, 
they provide an opportunity for the 
game to have a look at the guests in their 
natural habitat. All day the latter have 
been bouncing around in jeeps, making 
it difficult for the elephant and particu- 
larly the leopard to count them accurate- 
ly. But here, bunched at the bar, they can 
be inspected by the wart hogs and hyenas 
at leisure. 
ting next to me at the bar was a 
Kenya policeman's wife, who had lived 
in Africa all her life and who knew a 
good deal about the Mau Mau. “We had 
à cook in those days," she told me, “who 
was one in a thousand, the kindest, most 
obliging, most dedicated cook in all of 
Africa, famous for his spaghetti souflé 
With this talented man in the kitchen, I 
couldn't go wrong as a hostess and he 
might have stayed forever, had not my 
husband come home one evening and 
told me that our splendid chef was the 
senior Mau Mau oath administrator for 
miles around. It was a terrible oath, you 
know,” she continued, “the worst sort of 
black magic and quite unmentionably 
obscene. Arrangements were made that 
he be arrested in his own village because 
he was such a charming old man. That 
night the fellow cooked his last souffié, 
or so we thought, and the next day we 
drove him back to his home, where a 
dozen soldiers werc waiting. He got into 
the truck and bumped off to prison and, 

(continued on page 236) 


PLAYBOY'S пеат ee CRIME 


THE HEAT'S ON 


article By RICHARD HAMMER a politically ambitious young prosecutor 
takes on the syndicate and proves that the pen can be as mighty as the sword 


THE MAYOR AGREES. 


THE DUTCHMAN 15 A (8 
NEXT! 


1 


DE 


IT LOOKS BAD FOR THE 


8963 BUT WATCH OUT, TOM... 
МОВ PLAYS ROUGH! 


ATER, AT THE PALACE CHOP HOUSE 
o ay e 


efforts by Federal, state and 


BY THE EARLY Thirties, it cians and police took money became their servants. There 


scemed that nothing could halt 
the spread of underworld pow- 
er. Most of the country's major 
cities and many of the smaller 
ones were, in important ways, 
controlled by criminals. Politi- 


and orders from the racketeers; 
businessmen facing bankruptcy 
during the Depression had no- 
where else to turn for cash, and 
so fell under their control; ип. 
ions sought their services and 


were times when the entire 
nation seemed at the mercy 
of the Mob. 

But the specter of govern- 
ment by gangsters also in- 
spired the first major reform 


ILLUSTRATION BY DON MARGOLIS AFTER CHESTER GOULO CIRCA 1935 


local authorities. The Federal 
effort was led by Elmer Irey 
and his associates at the Inter- 
nal Revenue Service. When 
all other tactics seemed un- 
availing, there was still the 


possibility of sending gangsters 
for income-tax evasion. 
In New York, longignored 
civic corruption was suddenly 
in the spotlight of the Seabury 
commission. And a little later, 
the city itself would join the 
drive against the underworld 
when a new mayor, Fiorello 
“Little Flower” La Guardia, 
and his reformist fusion ad- 
ministration came to power. 
Under the spur of President 
Herbert Hoover and Treasury 
Secretary Andrew Mellon, 
Ircy had kicked off the Feder- 
al drive in Chicago in 1927. 
He had collected enough finan- 
cial evidence to send Ralph 
and Al Capone, Jake Guzik, 


Tom Dewey launched his politi- 
cal career by jailing gangsters. 


Frank Nitti and others to pris- 
on. In Kansas City, his agents 
had brought about the dis- 
grace, if not the total collapse, 
of the Pendergast machine. 
And in New York, the multi- 
millionaire bootleggers and 
racketeers were being put un- 
der the tax microscope. The 
initial target was Waxey 
Gordon. 

There was little affection 
for Gordon in the fiedgling 
national crime Syndicate. His 
control of illegal distilleries 
in Philadelphia, New Jersey, 
New York and elsewhere, and 
his hold on foreign sources of 
supply, had given hima degree 
of independence and power 


Fiorello La Guardia promised to 
run the gangs out af New York. 


that forced almost everyone to 
come to him. Moreover, re- 
quests for deals with Gordon 
usually resulted in his de- 
manding 2 partnership, and 
his tough, arrogant manner 
further alienated his business 
associates. In Philadelphia, he 
had feuded long and bitterly 
even with his allies, men such 
as Nig Rosen and Boo-Boo 
Toff. Perhaps mue serivus, 
the enmity between him and 
Meyer Lansky had deepened 
over the years, By the end of 
the Twenties, they would 


The dying Dutch Schultz contemplates the bullet holes he received on October 23, 1935, in Newark's. 
Palace Chop House. In direct defiance of Syndicate orders to leave public figures alone, Schultz had set 
out to assassinate Tom Dewey. Luciano considered this good for Schultz but bod for public relations. 


Death and taxes equally threatened mobsters once the Treasury 
Department decided that ill-gotten gains were taxable income. 


rarely speak to each other or 
sit down together in the 
same room. Lucky Luciano, Joc 
Adonis, Longy Zwillman and 
his partner Willie Moretti, 
Tommy Lucchese, even Lan- 
sky's oldest friend and longtime 
partner, Bugsy Siegel, all of 
whom had tried to work with 
both, found it increasingly diff- 
cult to keep the peace between 
the two sccmingly indispensa- 
ble men. They wanted no 
showdown, but if one were to 
come, they would side with 
Lansky. The “Little Man,” as 
the 54” Lansky was often 
called, had brains and ability, 
kept his ambitions to himself 
and preferred to stay in the 
background as a man who 
would not challenge the 
power of anyone else. Even 
more than Frank Costello, 
Lansky seemed content to 
guide obliquely by suggestion 
and subtle persuasion. So Gor- 
don's vitriol against Lansky 
won him no points in the or- 
ganization. And he lost points 
in the early Thirties when he 
made himself another power- 
ful enemy in Dutch Schultz, 
as each began invading the 
others brewing domains in 
anticipation of legal beer. 
Gordon, with his wealth, 
power and ostentation, was as 
natural a target for Irey’s tax- 
men in the East as Capone 
had been in the Midwest, and, 
according to some underworld 
sources, the Ircy investigation 
was secretly abetted by Gor- 
don's multitude of enemies. 
Through Lanskys brother 
Jake and others, the taxmen 
were quietly fed information 


' = a 
_ Mayer Lansky 2 Charlie. “Lucky” Luciano 'ank Costello. 
i TENNA 


Vito Genovese 


- Willie Moretti 


his war with Dutch Schultz, earned himself the nickname "Мой Dog” in July 1931, when his gunmen fired at rival mobsters 


оп Monhotlan's Upper East Side and instead hit several children, killing a five-year-old boy. Seven months later, Coll was comered in the 
telephone booth of a 23rd Street drugstore and riddled with machine-gun bullets. His new bride was among the few to weep at his funeral. 


and leads about Gordon's 
sources of income, In a num- 
ber of private underworld 
meetings, the decision was 
made not to deal with Gor- 
don by the old, violent meth- 
ods, though some, especially 
Schultz, favored such action. 
To kill Gordon, the wiser 
counsel went, would only re- 
sult in more bad publicity at 
a time when too many bodies 
were already littering the 
landscape, so the undoing of 


Waxcy Gordon would be left 
to the Government. 

But Schultz could not resist. 
taking one last blast at Gor- 
don, and in April 1933, he 
sent 2 crew of killers after the 
bootlegger. As they went in 
the door of Gordon's room at 
the Carteret Hotel in Eliza- 
beth, New Jersey, Cordon 
escaped, Not so lucky were 
two of his aides, who were 
both gunned down, 

Schultz's failure to get Gor- 


don was his last chance. The 
Government's tax case had by 
then been fully developed and 
put in the hands of a young 
United States Attorney in New 
York. He was a small man with 
a mustache, an immense ego 
and outsized political ambi- 
tions, a small-town Michigan 
Republican who had become 
a Wall Street lawyer before 
entering public service. His 
name was Thomas E. Dewey. As 
a prosecutor of businessmen, 


financiers and industrialists 
indicted for financial pecu- 
Jations, Dewey маз some- 
thing less than brilliant; he 
seemed unable to convict prom- 
inent citizens. With gangsters, 
however, it was different. He 


Bo Weinberg, the financial wiz- 
ard of the Dutch Schultz mob, 
paid the price for disloyalty. He 
vanished one night in 1935— 
reportedly the victim of a one- 
way swim in the Hudson River. 


ILLUSTRATION BY WARREN LINN AFTER JACK LEVINE CIRCA 1635. 


PLAYBOY 


136 


seemed then a vengeful tiger with an 
instinct for the jugular Within five 
months of his appointment as an Assist- 
ant U.S. Attorney in 1931, he did what 
prosecutors had been uying to do for 
years: convict Legs Diamond. Unfortu- 
nately, Diamond never scrved a day; 
while free on bond pending his appeal, 
he was murdered in an Albany, New 
York, rooming nouse, probably by the 
Schultz mob. 

In 1933, Dewey was named interim 
U. S. Attorney and personally took charge 
of the tax-evasion case against Gordon. 
His presentation was masterful, replete 
with histrionics, selErighteousness and 
scorn. Gordon, he told the jury, had a 
real income in excess of $2,000,000 a 
year, was spending more than $6000 
a year in owned vast amounts of 
property, including several homes with 
lavish furnishings, spent money on innu- 
merable luxuries and then had the gall 
to file income-tax returns declaring a net 
income of only $8125 a year. The jury 
was convinced. Gordon was convicted in 
December 1933, fined $80,000 and sent 
to prison for ten years. That was the end 
of Waxey Gordon as a major underworld 
figure. (Released just in time for World 
War Two, Gordon immediately got into 
the black market and ended up back in 
prison. When next on the streets, he re- 
turned to an occupation of his youth, 
pushing drugs, and by the late Filties was 
hack in prison once more.) 

With Gordon out of the way, the next 
target for the IRS and Dewey was 
Schultz. This upset the Dutchman and. 
gave rise later to his plaint that the cops 
were after him, that he was not 
only because his name fit the hea 
better he should have remained Arthur 
Flegenheimer. For by this time, Schultz 
was, indeed, a household name, con- 
stantly in the headlines as the Seabury 
inyestigation and others dug deeply into 
his racketeering and his relationship with 
politicians. But worse for Schultz, though 
he didn't know it yet, was the fact that 
he had also become a target for his some- 
time partner in the underworld. 

The Dutchman had an unpopular 
penchant for trouble and violence. He 
had fought Gordon for control of the 
beer business in New York and New Jer- 
sey, while almost simultancously warring 
with "Mad Dog" Coll, the young Irish 
killer and beer runner who had left 
Schultz in the late Twenties to form a 
rival gang. The struggle lasted about a 
year and filled the streets, alleys and riv- 
ers with bodies from both sides—nobody 
was ever sure how many, since the Castel- 
Jammarese war was going on about that 
time and there were other internecine 
battles as well. 

For a short time in the middle of the 
Schultz-Coll war, there was a truce, but 
only because Coll was out of commission. 
A car filled with his gunmen had roared 


through east Harlem prepared for a 
shoot-out with some of Schultz's troops in 
residence at a social club. Coll's men 
sprayed the area with bullets, hitting 
several nearby children and killing a five- 
year-old boy. That outrage finally com- 
pelled the police to intervene. Coll was 
picked up and charged with murder, His 
trial was something of a farce. Coll's lav. 
yer, Samuel Leibowitz (who would win 
the reputation as the nation’s most vin- 
dictive hanging judge when he sat on 
the countycourt bench in Brooklyn), 
riddled and ridiculed the state's case and 
Coll won a directed verdict of acquittal. 

But this was Coll's last hurrah. No 
sooner was he back in circulation than 
Schultz was after him. Coll's older broth- 
er, Peter, had already been gunned down 
оп a Harlem street. Coll replied by shoot- 
ing several Schultz hirclings Schultz 
stepped up the attack and Coll went into 
hiding but was tracked down to a room- 
ing house in Manhattan's Chelsea district. 
On February 8. 1932, he left his room to 
make a telephone call at the corner drug- 
store. Schultz's killers waited until he 
closed the door of the phone booth, then 
riddled it, and its helpless occupant, with 
submachine-gun bullets. 

‘The Dutchman's victory was some- 
thing of a disappointment to his under- 
world friends Luciano, Lansky, Costello 
and Louis "Lepke" Buchalter. For them, 
Schultz had become an object of concern 
and envy. His successes in battle and in 
capturing the Harlem policy racket made 
many fear that he would soon be casting 
eyes on their domains. Furthermore, they 
themselves were coveting the Schultz em- 
pire and would not have objected if Coll 
had eliminated the main obstacle to their 
taking it over. 

When Coll failed, the next hope was 
the Federal Government. In the waning 
days of his Presidency, Hoover, pleased 
with the early successes of his Treasury 
agents, began to pressure them to go 
after Schultz as well as Gordon; and in 
January 1933, Dewey presented enough 
evidence to a Federal grand jury in New 
York to indict the Dutchman for fail- 
ing to file tax returns for 1929, 1930 and 
1981. In those years, the Government 
charged, his provable taxable income 
from bootlegging alone amounted to 
$481,637.35, and he was thus in arrears 
for $92,103.34, plus interest. It appeared 
to be an airtight case; the Government 
could not lose. 

But Schuliz was a different breed from 
Capone, Gordon and the rest. Where they 
had readily surrendered to authorities 
upon indictment and gone to trial, 
Schultz had new interests in policy, in res- 
taurant protection and in breweries that 
needed his personal attention. "That at- 
tention could best be given while he was 
a free man, so he went into hiding, at 
least officially. With the overt and covert 
assistance of bribed police and politi- 
cians, he managed to remain at large, 


even travel about, despite more than 
50,000 wANrED posters prominently dis- 
played all over New York. He lived open. 
ly at a number of apartments around the 
city, receiving friends, associates and those 
public servants on his payroll, and he did 
not abandon his nightclubbing nor his 
regular visits to Polly Adler’s brothel. 

By mid-1934, nearly a year and a half 
after the indictments had been handed 
down (and by which time Republican 
Dewey was out of the U.S. Attorneys 
office and temporarily practicing law on 
Wall Suet), Schultzs flouting of the 
law had become too blatant to ignore. 
Franklin Roosevelt's Sccretary of the 
Treasury, Henry Morgenthau, put the 
heat on Federal and local officials. FBI 
director J. Edgar Hoover ordered his 
agents to bring in Schultz without delay, 
and New York's new reform mayor, La 
Guardia, who had ridden into office on 
the promise to “throw the bums out," dì- 
rected his new police commissioner. 
Lewis J. Valentine, to get his men off 
their asses and after the Dutchman. 

Schultz turned to his supposed friends 
for help, not suspecting the kind of help 
they really wanted to give him. At that 
moment, though, they helped him hide 
ош and he offered to cough up $100,000 
аз a settlement if the Government would 
withdraw the indictments. Like his prede- 
cessor in the Hoover Administration, who 
had turned down a much more generous 
$400,000 offer from Capone, Morgenthau 
refused. “We don't do business with crim- 
inals,” he said. 

The search for Schultz intensified, 
and with the then-trigger-happy FBI in- 
volved, Schultz decided to avoid any con- 
frontation. On a cold November day in 
1934, he walked into the Albany office of 
United States Com: s 
Hubbard and said, “I'm Arthur Flegen- 
heimer. I am under indictment in the 
Southern District of New York. 1 wish to 
surrender.” 

In the following months, Schultz, free 
on $75,000 bail, toiled at preparing his 
defense. The last thing his battery of 
lawyers wanted was a trial in New York 
City, where Schultz was notorious. La 
Guardia's campaign against the under- 
world and the continuing Seabury rev- 
elations had finally caused citizens to 
withdraw some of their tolerance toward 
glamorous gangsters. A change of venue 
was requested and eventually granted. 

The trial was scheduled for April 1935, 
in Syracuse. The Governments case, 
built with diligence by Dewey and his 
staff before they returned to private prac- 
tice, was handled by John H. McEvers, 
special assistant to Attorney General Ho. 
mer Cummings. McEvers paraded witness 
after witness before the jury to lay out 
the details of Schultz's bootleg empire 
and the amounts of cash that flowed into 
it. There seemed litle possibility that 
the Government would lose, particularly 

(continued on page 164) 


a eL. 


“You shouldn't blame yourself, Santa. Mother warned me 
you wouldn't come unless I was good.” 


137 


0 
LUCKY 
GIRL! 


small-town miss nancy cameron 
took a chance on the big city—and 
it’s worked out just fine, thank you 


JANUARY PLAYMATE Nancy 
Cameron isn’t the introspective 
sort, but on the eve of her 
20th birthday—which just hap- 
pens to coincide with ours— 
we caught her in a reflective 
mood. "Ive been thinking 
what would have happened 
if I hadn't gotten away from 
home." Home for Nancy was 
Arnold, Pennsylvania, a small 
town about 20 miles outside 
Pittsburgh. "I'd probably have 
gotten married—to my very 
old-fashioned high school 
sweetheart—and most likely 
have seuled for a career as a 
dental assistant.” Nancy makes 
a face. “And I'd never have 
gotten to meet Alice Cooper.” 
We should explain that Miss 
January works for her boy- 
friend, Paul St. John, a rock- 
concert producer in Pittsburgh. 
Nancy books hotel reservations 
for incoming groups, ensures 
that rooms are supplied with 
ample provisions of food and 
drink and arranges press par- 
ties, limousine service and the 
like. “Somebody was throwing 
a party for Alice after the con- 
certand Paul wanted me togo," 
says Nancy. “But I told him I 
was tired and we argued about 
it. So I'm sitting home alone 
when the phone rings and 
there’s a man on the other end 
of the line saying, ‘Hello, Nan- 
cy. This is Alice.” And I hear 
Paul laughing on the line like 
it was some big joke. But Al 
ice was really quite nice. He 
straightened everything out be- 
tween us.” Nancy pauses, then 
says, "Now, I don't mean to 
give the impression that I'm a 
close friend of every rock star 
who passes through Pittsburgh. 
] don't even like to show up 


“I really con't say thot | have сп 
everyday routine,” says Nancy. 
“But 1 like it like that.” One day, 
no! too long ago, began (top left 
опа right) with a brisk shower and 
(center) some work on friend Paul's 
Rolls-Royce. "The Rolls," she tells 
us, “has to be kept tuned constant- 
ly. Paul doesn't let me work on it 
too often, but | gladly do what he 
lels me. We're going to enter the 
cor in shows, but that’s a long way 
off. Neither of us has the time now 
to get it into the kind of coi 
it needs to be in for compe! 


at the concerts. But if I hadn't 
met Paul, I never would have 
had the opportunity to go in 
the first place.” In fact, says 
Nancy, it was Paul who encour- 
aged her to go to Pittsburgh. “I 
had been working as a dental 
assistant for several months— 
in Arnold. That was a drag. 
I had been modeling, too, just 
for the sake of doing something 
different. I model two or three 
times a week; there’s not a 
whole lot of that kind of work 
in Pittsburgh. Anyway, one day 
I was on a job at a shopping 
center, promoting a modeling 
agency; Paul passed by, and 
we met. Since then, I’ve done 
things I'd never thought I'd 
ever be doing, met people I'd 
never thought I'd meet, had 
experiences I'd never thought 
I'd have.” At the time she took 
off for Pittsburgh, Nancy was 
just a few months out of high 
school. “1 had been very popu- 
lar," she recalls, "secretary of 
my junior and senior classes, 
drum majorette, principal's 
pet and all the rest. But I knew 
nothing of Rolls-Royces, rock 
stars, fine restaurants Or big 
cities. The only time I'd ever 
gotten out of Arnold to any 
major new place was to Chi- 
cago, where I competed in a 
national gymnastic meet. 
[Nancy placed second in over- 
all competition, which in- 
duded turns on the uneven 
parallel bars, horse, rings and 
free exercise.] But then 1 had 
to go back to my job as a dental 
assistant. Eventually when 
more modeling assignments 
started to come my way, І quit 
dentistry and worked nights as 
a receptionist at a country 


Top to bottom, left to right: Next, 
Nancy works out with her older sis- 
ter, Debbie, ot a local gym. Debbie 
spots as Nancy executes a hip cir- 
cle on the uneven parallel bars and 
а routine on the bolance beam. 
Then it's off to cn assignment as a 
demonstrator for a cosmetics firm, 
where Nancy gives her younger 
sister Robin a lesson in make-up 
application. At dusk, she attends a 
cookout with Poul ond some friends. 
A go at the chain sow turns a limb 
into firewood, and soon the bright 
glow of a campfire warms the night. 


club. Which was OK, 
with modeling during the day 
and working at night, my life 
consisted of not much more 
than work and sleep. That is, 
until Paul came along.” Nancy 
hasn't abandoned her old life 
entirely, though. She still finds 
time for exercise with her sis- 
ters, who belong to Sokol, an 
Arnold gymnastic group. "I've 
been a gymnast my whole lile, 
as have my parents and their 
parents before them. We're all 
Slovak, and it would be hard 
to find a people crazier about 
gymnastics than the Slovaks. 
Since my mother is an instruc- 
tor and my sisters still com- 
pete, I guess we can match any 
family as gymnast fanati 
For the moment, however, 
Nancy says she can't foresee 
time when her passion for the 
sport would evolve into any- 
thing serious enough to give 
her Olympic aspirations. “I'm 
OK on the uneven bars, es- 
pecially when I put my mind 
to it. But I'm terribly incon- 
sistent, and 1 freeze under pres- 
sure. During one meet a while 
ago, 1 was doing a required 
routine on the rings. Suddenly 
I caught the judge's eye and 
got so scared that 1 forgot an 
entire sequence. My mind went 
blank, and by the time I came 
out of it, I was just hanging 
there improvising tricks I'd 
never done before." When she's 
not working out, Nancy divides 
her hours about equally be- 
tween modeling assignments 
nd concert production work. 
Frankly,” she says, “I'd rather 
spend more of my time model- 
ing, but I enjoy meeting the 
groups and helping them.” All 
the same, if she were asked to 
trade her present life for the 
one that would have awaited 
her had she remained in Ar- 
nold, we're absolutely certain 
whichone Nancy would choose. 
“But I've already made that 
choice,” she says, “I'm here with 
you now, aren't 12” And how. 


“Of course, I'm flattered to have 
been chosen to be PLAYBOY's first 
double-gatefold Playmate. But poor 
Dwight Hooker, the photographer, 
must have lost ten pounds running 
from one camero to the other.” 


WI22 YMONEJ riso» чун ox іне wonin 


"п spite of the fact that I've moved 
away from my home town," says 
Nancy, “I still don't consider my- 
self а y person. | like the 
restaurants, concerts and people of 
the city, but I've found that I'm 
happiest when I'm walking through 
the woods or driving through the 
countryside. 1 guess my ideal in life 
is to combine the two worlds. But 
I've lols of fime to work that out.” 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY OWIGHT HOOKER 


152 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


1: took plenty of time and persuasion, but the horny 
vice-president finally persuaded the new secretary to 
drop her panties and bend over the back of his 
leather couch. 

“And just where have you been until this hour?” 
demanded his wife when the wayward husband 
arrived home. 

“Down at the office, honey,” replied the fellow, 
“working like a dog.” 


The elderly couple was watching a TV faith healer. 
"And now, my friends," he intoned, "you can be 
made whole again! I invite those of you who are ill 
to place one hand on my image on your television 
screen and the other hand on that part of your body 
that needs holy healing.” At this, the old woman 
leaned forward and touched the screen and also her 
stomach, while her husband divided his hands be- 
tween the TV screen and his groin. 

“That's going too far, George,” cackled the wife. 
“The reverend spoke about healing the sick, not 
raising the dead!” 


Madam," said the irate conductor to an incompe- 
tent lady cellist during rehearsal, “you have between 
your legs an instrument that could give pleasure 
to thousands—and all you seem able to do is 
scratch it!" 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines football groupie 
as a jock absorber. 


Have you tried Head and Shoulders?” tactfully 
whispered the girl in dose embrace, 

“Huh . . . what?” whispered back her date. 
“Shoulders?!” 


A fairy named Wind said, “I could, 
If healthy, give pleasure—and would! 
But, rile disease 
Cramps my yearning to please, 
Since an ill Wind blows nobody good.” 


Simultaneous orgasms,” explains a sex therapist, 
“are mostly the result of a stroke of luck.” 


The three Bedouin tribesmen had almost reached 
the ozsis on their flect camels when a hillock of sand 
suddenly loomed up in front of them. Ali swerved 
around it to the left and Hassan did so to the right, 
bur dauntless Abdul rode right up and over the 
obstacle—and straight iso cr je eit HOE EEC 
camels engaged in lovemaking. Ihe copulating 
beasts became frightened and broke apart at their 
climactic moment just as Abdul swept by, the male 
of the pair showering him with the potential mak- 
ings of millions of little camels. 

“Poor Abdul,” muttered Hassan, as their bespat- 
tered comrade came up to join them, “he doesn't 
know enough to rein in out of the cum.” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines loser as a guy 
whose computer-dating service sends him the num- 
ber of Dial-A-Prayer. 


And then there was the French girl who came to the 
U.S. but soon returned home—she missed her na- 
tive tongue. 


pital,” comments 


What prevails in our nation’s 
is the law of the 


one Watergate-case observer, 
bungle.” 


Two veteran horseplayers decided to pool their re- 
sources and try a new system in an effort to change 
their luck. “In the first race, Max," suggested Lou, 
“let's bet the horse with the same number as your 
glove size.” 

“That's eight,” said Max, so they bet on number 
eight and he romped home a winner. 

In the second race, they used Max's shoe size, 
which was nine, and number nine won pul 
away. And so it went all afternoon. "And now, in 
the sixth,” proposed Lou excitedly, "let's put the 
whole bundle on the length of your dick!” 
and the bet was placed; 


but number five won. 
“Oh, Lord,” groaned Max, “why did I have to 
be such a liar?" 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines nude coloratura 
as a muff diva. 


No, no, Virginia," said the ster to his in- 
quisitive young daughter, e labia minora 
are not something our Jewish friends light up for 
Hanukkah." 


ag Yoo 
STIG] 
Zi V 


A shipwrecked sailor who had spent many years on 
a remote South Pacific island was finally rescued. 
When he arrived in California, reporters asked him. 
what he had done for sex. "Oh, there were plenty of 
passable and willing native girls on the island,” he 
replied, "but they all had either V. D. or T. B." 

“That must have been frustrating," commented 
one of the newsmen. 

“Not at all," said the sailor. “If a girl coughed, 1 
screwed her.” 


Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a postcard, 
please, 10 Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY, Playboy 

ing, 919 North Michigan Avenue, Chicago, 
Illinois 60611. £50 will be paid to the contributor 
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned. 


жора 


“The captain’s having trouble controlling his hook.” 


ND THEN THEY SAY, “Now, ladies and gentlemen, here's the star of our show,” 

and we both come out and go for the microphone, and you grab it and start 

right in, ‘Good evening, folks, it's so great to be here in Miami, and I say, 

"Wait a minute, what are you doing out here? I'm supposed to be on first, 

I'm supposed to open the show,’ and you say, ‘No, they told me I was sup- 

posed to open the show,’ and we go back and forth like that until you say—no, I say— 

"Look, didn't you sce the sign when you came up to the hotel? Didn't you see that name 

up there with all the neon lights? Well, that's me.’ And then you look and take a beat 
and say, ‘Oh, you must be Air Conditioning. " 

Milton Berle stopped to light his cigar. "You have to be sure to take that beat, Jerry,” 
he said. “Then you say, ‘Oh, you must be Air Conditioning.” 

Jerry Lewis looked at Berle but said nothing. He stood in his narrow dressing room 
backstage at the Deauville Hotel, dressed in a tuxedo, holding a plastic cup of white wine 
in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He took a sip of the wine. 

"So then I'll say, “Look, Jerry, why should you be on first?’ And you say, "Well, you 
heard me last night,’ and I say, ‘Yeah, you were very funny,’ and you say, ‘Funny? Are 
you kidding—you could hear them laughing across the street.’ 1 say, ‘Oh, really? What 
was playing over there?” ” 

Berle puffed on his cigar, then reached out and grabbed Lewis by the arm. “Listen, 
Jerry, 1 have to tell you about the ending." Lewis dropped his eyes quickly to where 
Berle held him, then raised them again. 

“When 1 finally introduce you,” Berle said, “you start in telling some story, right? 
And I back up a couple of steps and say, 'Listen to this, this is a terrific story, you'll love 
it, and you turn around and say, ‘Would you mind? Could you just back off?” I say, 
‘Sure, Jerry; and I go a couple of more steps, and as soon as you start again, 1 
turn to the band and say, “This kills me, this story; wait'll you hear it And you say, 
"Look, would you just back away, I’m trying to do a show here. Back off.’ Then 1 walk up 
and say, ‘How far do you want me to go?’ And you say, ‘Have you got a car?” ” 

Berle tightened his grip on Lewis’ arm and pulled himself toward him. “Now, you 
can't jump on that line, Jerry. You got to give it some time. When I say, ‘How far do 
you want me to go?” you have to look at me and take а beat before you answer. Then 
you deliver the line. It's funnier that way. Last time," he said, "you rushed that line.” 


JERRY LEWIS. 
BIRTHDAY BOY 


personality BY@"GONMELL DRISCOLL 
“Pm not the best yet, but i soon will be,” said jerry. “maybe tuesday,” he added 


Lewis still said nothing, but he gave his arm a slight twist and pulled loose from 
Berle's hand. 

“I think we got it all set, Jerry,” Berle said, heading toward the door. 
member the pause. These people need time to think down here.” 

Berle started out of the room, then turned and looked at Lewis. “ "Ноу far do you 
want me to go?’ ” he said. Then he paused dramatically and counted three beats in the 
air with his cigar. "And then you say, ‘Have you got a car?" " He put the cigar back in 
his mouth and walked out the door. 

Lewis stood and watched him leave. Then he walked over to his dressing table and 
dumped the rest of his wine into the sink. He filled the plastic cup with water and used 
it to put out his cigarette. The cigarette hissed and then floated on the water like a 
dead fish. 

Lewis shook his head and looked over at his wife, Patti, who was sitting in a cor- 
ner of the dressing room, doing some needlepoint. 

“He didn’t let you say a word, Daddy,” Mrs. Lewis said, looking up at her hus- 
band. “I don't believe it. Milton came in here and did the whole opening routine and 
he didn't even let you speak.” 

“I don't have to speak," Lewis said. He sat down in a high-backed chair and shut 155 


ust re- 


ILLUSTRATION BY SHAWN SHEA 


PLAYBOY 


156 


his eyes. "Milton does all the parts. He 
even does audience reaction." 

Lewis opened his eyes and leaned for- 
ward to look at himself in the lighted 
mirror. He turned his head slightly to 
one side and then to the other. Ünder a 
layer of make-up, his skin was deeply 
tanned; and although his face had be- 
come fuller and more mature-looking 
with time, it had also retained a good 
deal of youthfulness. Jerry Lewis did not 
look his age, today, on his 47th birthday. 

“Rehea Lewis said, patting back 
his hair. “That’s all Milton has on his 
4. We've gone over that routine a 
n times since yesterday. And it's 
just an opening bit, for Crissake.” 
don't see why Milton behaves that 
way." Mrs. Levis said. 

‘Well, Milton is the master of his 
said Lewis. "Everybody learned 
from him. He's a perfectionist and a con- 
summate showman. And for that I love 
him." Lewis dosed his eyes again and 
rubbed them. "But he's driving me fuck- 
ing bananas with all his rehearsing.” 

“I think he goes a little too far, 


"You could walk up to him and say, 
"Good morning, Milton, and he'd give 
you three other ways to read the line. On 
tne way to his funeral, he's going to be 
telling the guy how to drive the fuck- 
ing hearse." 

Lewis stood up and began to look 
duvugl a pile of mail diat was sitting, on 
his dressing table. He picked up a tele- 
gram from Bill Harrah, the nightclub 
Owner, wishing him a happy birthday, 
and held it as if he were weighing it. 

“We were wrong to come here,” Lewis 
said. “The € place i is wrong. I don't belong 


said Lewis suddenly, 
rowing the telegram back on the table. 
ilton’s coming in here and telling me 
how to deliver my fucking lines. I wrote 
the whole fucking routine, I should know 
how to deliver the lines, 

“Milton shouldn't act like that,” 
Lewis said. 

‘And he's explaining to me about tim- 
ing. He's telling me about timing.” Lewis 
looked in the mirror. “I'm forty-seven 
years old today. 1 don't need lessons 
in timing.” 

"Of course you don't,” Mrs. Lewis said. 

А tall man with a mustache, who was 
the announcer for the show, stopped in 
the doorway and stuck his head into the 
room. “Are you just about ready, Mr. 
Lewis?” he asked. 

Lewis nodded without turning around. 
He straightened his jacket and his tie. 
Then he leaned over and kissed his 
wife. "Good luck, Daddy,” she said to him. 

“You know that Milton has always 
been шу idol," Lewis said as he stepped 
out of the room. “But I think he's turn- 
ing into a prick.” 

Mrs. Lewis watched her husband as he 


Mrs. 


left to go onstage; then she went back to 
her needlepoint. 

The day before his 47th birthday, 
Jerry Lewis stood in the lobby of the 
Deauville Hotel, looking out through an 
enormous picture window at the swim- 
ming-pool area. "Momma!" he said 
"Come here and look at this! Look at this 
ping-pong table!” 

Mrs. Lewis, wearing a summery pants 
suit and sunglasses, went over and stood 
next to her husband. “Look at what 
those people are playing on," he said. 

Lewis pointed through the window. 
Beyond it lay a huge swimming pool that 
nobody was using. The pool was flanked 
on two sides by narrow cabanas, most 
of which were open, occupied by post- 
middle-aged people sipping drinks and 
avoiding the hot afternoon sun. A num- 
ber of other people were sitting out in 
the open, on deck chairs, some with silver 
reflectors strapped around their necks, 
and their heads thrown back like astro- 
nauts' on take-off. 

In an area directly beneath the picture 
window, a man and his wife were playing 
an energetic, if somewhat unpolished, 
game of ping-pong. Both wore broad- 
brimmed straw hats, and most of their ef- 
forts were directed at retrieving the ball 
after a missed return. The table they 
were playing on, the only ping-pong 
table in sight, was a warped piece of ply- 
woud painted исси, mailed ошо two 
sawhorses. The adhesive tape that had 
been applied to mark off the playing sur- 
faces was fluttering lightly at the edges. 

"Can you believe that?" Lewis asked, 
his eyes fixed on the table. “People here 
are paying a hundred, a hundred and fifty 
dollars a day for а room, and look at that 
piece of shit they provide in the way of 
recreational facilities. That is absolutely 
unexcusable.” He turned away from the 
window. "Welcome to Miam 

Ic was about noon and Lewis had just 
arrived at the Deauville to rehearse for 
the opening of his show that night. He 
had come from The Jockey Club, where 
he was staying, а 25-minute ride by 
chauffeurdriven limousine across the 
bay from Miami Beach. 

"Lets find out where we're supposed 
to go and go there," Lewis said. He start- 
ed off across the lobby, followed by his 
wife and by his assistant, 2 man named 
Bob Harvey. 

“Look at the carpeting!” Lewis called 
out as he walked along. "Holes in the 
carpetingl" He stopped above one of the 
holes and examined it. Two silver-haired 
ladies sitting nearby looked on with 
interest. 
low, it would be one thing,” Lewis 
, "if they said that the carpeting had 
been torn in the last fifteen minutes and 
they just hadn't gotten around to fixing 
it yet. But those holes have been there 
since Lindbergh landed in Paris.” 


“This used to be such a groovy hotel,” 
Harvey said, catching up to Lewis. 

“This was the best,” said Lewis. 
was class. Now take a look.” 

“The Fifties was the best time for 
Miami,” Harvey said. “The late Fifties. 

“The town was alive then,” Lewis sa 
“The people were alive. Now everyoi 
in sight is on his way to fucking death. 
He looked around at the silver-haired 
ladies and lowered his voice. “It m: 
you sad to see a town deteriorate like 
this.” 

Mrs. Lewis came up and joined them. 
“Did you see the carpet, Momma?” 
Lewis asked. Mrs. Lewis locked at the 
carpet and shook her head. 

Lewis led them toward the stage-door 
entrance. Harvey asked him if he'd seen 
the room in which he was performing. 
Lewis shook his head. “It’s big, Jerry, 
he said. 

They went through the door and into 
the room. “Holy Christ!" said Lewis, 
looking around. "Is this where the Dol- 
phins play their home games?” 
ike a convention hall," said 
hing. “They could hold 
а convention in here, Daddy.” 

“They must be out of their minds,” 
Lewis said. “They're never going to fill 
this place every night. There aren't that 
many people in Florida.” 

A number of people were moving un- 
hurriedly around the room, setting up 
the lighting and sound equipment. On- 
stage, the band was being led through 
the numbers in Lewis’ act by his accom- 
panist and conductor, Lou Brown, a full- 
faced and pleasant man who has been 
with Lewis [or 23 years. 

"Some room they got here, huh?” 
Brown said as Lewis walked over to the. 
edge of the stage. 

“Nice,” said Lewis. “Especially if you 
want to fly an airplane.” 

"Maybe thats what the show needs,” 
Brown said. 

Lewis smiled and took some notes out 
of a briefcase. He glanced through them, 
then stood listening to the band. “When 
do you need me, Louie?” he 

“Not right away,” Brown said. “We'll 
go through it all first. Then you can 


“This 


come nd tell us how we did it all 
wrong,” 
Lewis and his wife came out of the 


Deauville together and alone and walked 
over to the car that was waiting for them. 
The night air was misty and muggy. The 
neon time-and-temperature board on the 
delicatessen across the street said that it 
was 72 degrees, a few minutes before 
midnight. 

Lewis was wearing the tuxedo that he 
had performed in, except for the jacket. 
He had left the jacket backstage. He had 
on a dark-blue nylon windbreaker zipped 
up to the throat and a white bath towel 
wrapped around his neck. His make-up 

(continued on page 158) 


CAN TENNIS SWAPPING 
SANE YOUR MARRIAGE? 


if bob © carol © art & alice do it, why shouldn't you? 
humor By ART BUCHWALD 


THERE 15 A LOT more tennis swapping going on in the United States than 
anyone would like to admit. Almost every tennis and country club now per- 
mits mixed doubles out in the open and people are starting to talk about it 
for the first time. 

While doing research for a book on what tennis was doing to destroy the 
American family, I interviewed people who admitted they had been swapping 
tennis partners and in many cases they said it had not only helped their game 
but brought them closer together. 

Bob P. told me how he got into tennis swapping. “I'd like to say first that 
my wife, Carol, and I are very happy playing tennis together, but occasionally 
we like to swap partners just for variety. We got into it in a funny way. We 
were on a tennis weekend at Grossinger's and we met this couple named Ted 
and Alice, The first day my wife and I played them and we won eight to six, 
six to three and six to four. 

“That night we had dinner with them and as a joke, Ted said it would 
be kind of fun if he played with Carol and I played with Alice. My wife 
blushed and I think J just brushed it off, though (continued on page 243) 


ILLUSTRATION BY НЕООА JOHNSON 


157 


PLAYBOY 


158 


was smeared and running from the per- 
spiration that dripped from his hair and 
his forehead, and both the collar of his 
shirt and the bath towel were stained with 
the tan-colored grease- 

He slumped into the seat and put his 
head back, his eyes shut. The driver 
turned around and gave him a question- 
ing look. Mrs. Lewis made a small mo- 
tion with her hand and the car pulled 
away from the hotel. 

“There won't be any slecping to- 
night," Lewis said in a tired voice. "I 
havc to look for some answers. There 
have to be some answers." 

“What did Milton have to say?" Mrs. 
Lewis said. 
lon was very understanding," 
Lewis said. “He said to me, “What can we 
do? He told me that he knows he went 
way too long. I said, ‘Milton, that's only 
a small part of it.’ The thing about chem- 
istry is that there are particles, and 
pieces, and small factions that build into 
the totality of the end result. Time is just. 
one thing,” 

Lewis took the corner of the bath 
towel and wiped some of the sweat off 
the side of his face. 

“You can't plan a concept,” he said, 
“and then change it, and expect it to 
work after you've made the change. 
When we originally planned to do this, it 
was going to be Milton and myself and 
the Louis Prima outfit—and we were 
going to work in concert and build a 
kind of revue. Then Prima became un- 
available. And then Lee Guber, who put 
the show together, said that it would just 
be Milton and myself, and that it would 
work just as well that way, with each of 
us doing about an hour. And I really had 
some reservations about that. But 1 knew 
how important it was to Milton, I knew 
how much he was looking forward to us 
working together, and so I really didn't 
put up any resistance to the show's 
changing from the original concept. Be- 
cause I didn't want to make waves. 

“But you know I talked to Milton, 
months ago, and I kept trying to make 
him understand that there had to be a 
device to take the place of the original 
concept. And then I just ran out of time. 
1 left the country, and then my dad got 
sick, so we never did get together. And 
even if we had gotten together, it would 
have been a very amateurish thing for us 
to attempt to work in total concert. Here 
you have two men who shouldn't really 
be working together at all, trying to 
weave their two styles and two acts to- 
gether in some way. Anyhow, we never 
did work anything like that out, because 
there was just no time.” 

“Daddy, can 1 interrupt a minute?” 
Mrs. Lewis said. 

“What” 

“I don't think you ought to have this 


(continued from page 156) 


conditioning on. I think it’s too much. 
for you, darling. It's so cold on 

your neck." 

Lewis asked the driver to turn off the 
the back of the car. 
` Mrs. Lewis said to 
the driver. "He's still all wet and it gets 
too cold for hi 

They drove in silence for a while, and 
then Lewis said, "Les really a strange 
thing. ] was so confident tonight, for 
some reason. I had heard how the audi- 
ence reacted to Milton during that whole 
first half, and I said, ‘Jesus Christ, they're 
up, they're high. And when 1 walked 
out, I walked out just like I did in Paris. 
Very secure and very confident. And the 
minute I began. I knew I was in trouble. 
That it wasn't going to work. They're 
different people. It's a different place 
and a different audience, and I just—I’m 
not right here." 

Lewis shifted in the seat and rested one 
foot on top of the seat in front of him. 

“They just didn't understand some of 
the things that you were doing,” Mrs, 
Lewis said. “You were too subtle for 
them. Too quick.” 
‘Well, you can't do subtleties and artis- 
tic pieces with this audience," Lewis said. 
“They aren't used to that kind of comedy 


ance, the way they a 
even the way they are in Las Vega: 

“You did pieces tonight that would get 
a fiveminute laugh in Las Vegas,” Mrs. 
Lewis said. "And here they didn't re- 
spond at all." 

“Well, this isn't Vegas," Lewis said. 
his is Miami, and I haven't been in 
Miami in a long time. They haven't seen 
my style of performance in a long time. 
In a sense, they didn't recognize me." 

‘The car bumped slightly as it pulled 
onto the causeway and headed across the 
bay. Behind it, the carnival lights of 
Miami Beach were dim and fuzzy in the 
gray mist, as if the city had been wrapped 
in wax paper. 

"You looked so gorgeous up there,” 
Mis. Lewis said. smiling at her hus- 
band. "So polished and so—well—really 
performing. Milton wasn't really per- 
forming. 

“Oh, yes, he was, Momma," Lewis said. 

"Oh, not to me, it’s not a perform. 
ance,” Mrs. Lewis said. "He just works 
around the other people he has on with 
him. Like that harmonica player, that 
Stan Fisher. He plays beautifully and 1 
really enjoy the music, but it was too 
much and too loud. It's a drag. You come 
to see Milton Berle and you see a har- 
monica player.” 

‘Well. I don't know how long that 
went,” Lewis said. 

“He had an awful lot of time, Daddy. 
Much too much." 

"Yeah, Stan might be on too long,” 
Lewis said. "But you can't say Milton 


wasn't performing, honey.” 

"No," Mrs. Lewis said. "To mc, that's 
not a performance. I'm sorry, it's some- 
thing else. I don't know what you'd 
call 


You might call it prejudice," Lewis 
said. 

“No, that's not it.” 

“You know better than making it a 
contest,” Lewis said. 

"I'm not making it a contest, and I'm 
not saying 1 didn't enjoy it. 1 enjoyed 
Milton. But he was too loose. He wasn't 
organized. He looked—he looked like he 
was floundering all over the place. Com- 
pared to what I sce you do.” 

Mrs. Lewis reached over and began to 
rub her husband's neck lightly. 

“I knew what the outcome was going 
to be,” Lewis said. “I had a feeling it was 
going to happen this way. I told you that 
last night.” 

“Yes, you told me,” Mrs. Lewis said. 

“I could just feel that the chemistry 
was wrong,” Lewis said. 

“Maybe it would be better if you 
opened the show," Mrs. Lewis said. 

“Well. I told Milton that I'd be pre- 
pared to do anything at all to make it 
work; and maybe that means me per- 
forming first. But I don't even know if 
that's right. 1 think the problem is much 
more fundamental.” 

The car turned onto Biscayne Boule- 
vard and headed north. There were no 
other cars and no other people, and the 
small singlestory houses that were set 
back on cither side of the wide street 
were quiet and dark. 

The limousine turned into the en- 
trance of The Jockey Club and a uni- 
formed guard stepped out of his booth. 

“Mr. Lewis,” the driver said. 

The guard bent over slightly and 
looked in the back window at Lewis 
and his wife. "OK," he said and waved 
them on. 

“Phil, what time is it?” Mrs. Lewis said 
as they drove through the gate. 

The driver looked at the clock on the 
dashboard. "Almost twelve-thirty, Mrs. 


she said. "It's your birth- 


Mrs. Lewis put her arm around her 
husband’s shoulders and gave him a 
“Happy birthday,” she said. 


“Happy birthday, Jerry,” Jan Murray 
said. He poured some wine into the glass 
Lewis held in his hand. “Here's hoping 
for many more.” 

Murray's wife, a beautiful woman 
named Toni, held up her own glass in a 
toasting gesture. “Happy birthday, 
Jerry.” she said. "We all love you." 

Mrs. Lewis laughed and applauded 
lightly. “Hooray for the birthday boy," 
she said. 

The four of them sat in Lewis’ small 
backstage dressing trailer. Lewis, who 

(continued on page 272) 


D 


Jonn 
ump SY 


“Remember that couple we met in the pro shop at Pebble Beach 
last summer who kept asking us if we wanted to play a round?” 


159 


HERE'S NO DENYING that when you design men's clothes, you project. 
your images of the men who arc going to wear them. So if you 
invite a number of designers, spanning several generations, coun- 
tries and ethnic groups, to submit oneofa-kind creations to be 
showcased at a gala fashion extravaganza, what you're going to have—in 
addition to a host of smashing outfits sartorial symposium on human 


160 


Cowhide provides Jan Strotion 
(U. 5.) with the medium for his 
foshion messoge, above: a cow- 
hide coot lined in спосо fur 
worn over a zip-front cowhide 
vest and motching flored slocks. 


from playboy's exclusive 
international collection: 
creative menswear by 

the world's top designers 


FREE STYLE! 


A fantasy patchwork-print [вап 

Jacket that’s anything but % 
Mickey Mouse Is the offbeat 4 
creation of Bill Bowers and Paul 
Gearity for Caprice (U.S.A.). 


162 


nature. And that’s what almost 300 fashion celebrities and media people 
were treated to, not long ago, at New York's Four Seasons restaurant when 
PLAYBOY Fashion Director Robert L. Green again presided over our annual 


ative Menswear International Designer Collection. While previous col- 
lections had featured clothes more experimental than practical, this year’s 
selections (totaling 67) were, with few exceptions, (concluded on page 268) 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY 


The collective creativity of New 
York's Pinky & Dianne far Flo 
Toronto hos conjured up the 
above wrap satin smoking 
jacket with goldfish print, shawl 
collar and matching ponts. 


England's Tommy Nutter 
contributes a veddy British 
black-silk evening jacket 
combined with Oxford bags, 
striped vest, silk scarf, 

fabric camellia on the lapel 
and—what else but?—a silver- 
headed walking stick. 


when Schultz entered no denials. His 
defense took only three hours to pre- 
sent. There was the startling admission 
that the Government was, if anything, 

nderstating his booeg income. But, 
the defense contended, Schultz had not 
filed tax returns because his lawyers 
had told him he didn't have to. that 
income from illegal sources could not be 
declared for tax purposes. When this ad- 
vice was proved wrong, Schultz claimed, 
he had made his offer to come across with 
$100,000. As he explained it outside 
court (and the jury was not unaware of 
the remarks), “I offered 5100.000 when 
the Government was broke and people 
were talking revolution and they turned 
me down cold. .. . Everybody knows I am 
being persecuted in this case. I wanted to 
pay. They were taking it from everybody 
else, but they wouldn't take it from me. 
I tried to do my duty as a citizen—maybe 
I'm not a citizen?" 

The jury debated for two days before 
coming back to court to inform the judge 
that it was hopelessly deadlocked, seven 
to five for conviction. 

But the Government was not ready to 
give up. A second trial was called for 
July in the isolated Upstate town of Ma- 
lone, near the Canadian border. Schultz 
arrived in town a week before the trial, 
At home, he was a miser. In Malone, he 
became a gregarious and cxtrovertcd 
spendthrift. He toured the bars and 
taverns every night, standing all the cus- 
tomers to free drinks. He made lavish 
contributions to local chari and went 
to major social events with the may. 
other politicians and prominent bu 
nessmen. An outraged local clergy, rant 
ing about his corrupting influence, 
managed to get his bail revoked and he 
was lodged in the local jail, but he had 
made a deep impression on Malone and, 
according to rumors, had enriched a 
number of its influential citizens. 

So a climate had been established. 
‘The trial was almost a replay of the one 
in Syracuse, and Schultz's attorneys in- 
formed the jury that he intended to “do 
my duty as an American citizen” and pay 
over the $100,000 he had offered, no 
matter the outcome. Again, the jury de- 
bated two days, returning to court to an- 
nounce that it had reached a unanimous 
verdict. Schultz was not guilty. Federal 
Judge Frederick H. Bryant was hoi 
“Your verdict,” he told the jury, 
that it shakes the confidence of law-abid- 
ing people in integrity and truth. It w 
be apparent to all who followed the evi 
dence in this case that you have reached 
а verdict based not on the evidence but 
on some other reason. You will go home 
with the satisfaction, if it is a satisfaction, 
that you have rendered a blow against 
law enforcement and given aid and en- 
164 couragement to the people who would 


PLAYBOY 


THE HEATS GW (continued from page 136) 


Hout the law. In all probability, they will 
commend you. I cannot.” 

The Schultz case was one of few 
ures that Government had or would have 
in prosecuting racketeers for tax evasion. 
Even the quiet man, Johnny Torrio, be- 
hind the scenes, fell victim to the charge 
in 1939 and wound up in Leavenworth. 
But Schultz, as in so many ways, was 
the exception. 

News of the acquittal was received 
with considerable shock back in New 
York City, and not just by city officials. 
Schultz's underworld associates were also 
shaken. During the time since his sur- 
render, they had been operating on the 
assumption that Schultz was finished and 
had begun cutting up his empire among 
themselves, with help from inside the 
Dutchman's kingdom. As Schultz's tax 
troubles and future prospects worsened, 
his senior lieutenant, Abraham “Bo” 
Weinberg, the man who kept the books 
and who knew intimately every business 
secret, had become increasingly restive. 
Schult was drawing off large sums from 
his policy. protection and the other 
rackets to pay for his defense, and this 
did not make Weinberg happy. What 
particularly worried him was his own 
future once Schultz departed for good 
and his empire became spoils for the rest. 
of the underworld. 

He took his problem to his ald and 
good friend Zwillman. To Zwillman he 
offered to open the books on all the oper- 
ations and turn over the organization in- 
tact, thereby avoiding a war that would 
almost certainly shatter the empire he 
had worked so hard to build. In return, 
he wanted a percentage of the take and a 
job as overseer of the business, doing 
what he had done so long. 

As a member of the national Syndicate 
and as a friend and partner of most of 
the other underworld leaders, Zwillman 
could not very well take over by himself. 
He took the Weinberg package to his 
compatriots and they grabbed it eagerly 

itting it up: Zwill- 
man got all the New Jersey interests; Cos- 
tello and Lansky took the restaurants 
and protection; and Luciano, as de facto 
chairman of the board, was cut in for a 
piece of everything. As for Weinberg, he 
worked for the whole Syndicate, coordi 
nating the Schultz operations, with Zwill- 
man his contact man for the group. 

It was all fine as long as Schultz was 
away and preoccu 
of jail. But after 
to New York, he w; 
tive of the way his ii 
tected by 
there was little he could do in the way of. 
reprisal. Some of what had been seized 
was returned with the explanation that 
his friends had merely been managing it 
in his absence. Schultz had to buy 
he was still under constant harassment by 


ied with staying out 
acquittal and return 
less than apprecia- 


La Cuardia and Valentine and could 
hardly make a move without being 
picked up for questioning. So he began 
spending more and more time in New 
Jersey. cultivating his interests there. In 
New Jersey, he found himself potentially 
embroiled with Zwillman, who had be- 
come a major political and underworld 
power in the state, and again Schultz bit 
the bullet. The two had been longtime 
friends and business partners and Schultz 
still had hopes of moving into some new 
ventures in partnership with Zwillman. 

But Weinberg was another 
Schultz knew that his operations could 
not have been so quickly gobbled up and 
so efficiently run without the help of 
Weinberg. And Weinberg was not high 
in underworld circles, was not protected 
Опе warm September evening in 1935, 
Weinberg left his office after a day's 
work, possibly to meet Zwillman. In any 
case, he was never seen again. The story 
goes that Schultz himsel was waiting, 
put a bullet in Weinberg's head, his feet 
in concrete, his body in the Hudson 
River. 

While the dispatch of Weinberg must 
have been personally satisfying to 
Schultz, it did not solve his problems. 
Nor did it permi to reconstruct his 
sundered empire. He was now the prey 
of many and the traps were being set. 

Former Federal prosecutor Dewey was 
setting one of them, as part of the clean- 
up drive that had been begun some ycars 
earlier with the formation of the Seabury 
commission. That panel's revelations had 
driven Jimmy Walker to exile in Europe, 
had created enough public disenchant 
ment to propel La Guardia into the 
mayor's chair. But though La Guardia 
was mayor and his police commissioner, 


Valentine, was telling the cops. “I'll 
promote the men who kick these goril- 
las around and bring them in. And IJI 


demote any policemen who are friendly 
with gangsters,” it took longer for the 
spirit of reform to infest the district at- 
torney's office. To avoid any such cor 
gion, Jimmy Hines had put up 2 
candidate for D.A. named William Cope- 
land Dodge—"stupid, respectable and 
my man,” Hines said of him—and Dodge 
won narrowly. However, once in office, 
Dodge proved himself equally respon- 
sive to the demands of La Guardia, the 
press and the reformers and empaneled 
a special grand jury to investigate cor- 
ruption, graft, policy and other evils. 
Then, of course, he refused to do any- 
thing about the evidence it uncovered. 
The grand jury gave up, but it wired 
Governor Herbert H. Lehman and de- 
manded a special prosecutor, asserting 
that it was hopeless to work with Dodge. 
Lehman came up with a list of four 
prominent Republicans. One after an 
other, the four declined. A fifth Republi- 
can lawyer, Tom Dewey, was suggested 
and he accepted with alacrity. 
(continued on page 230) 


“Tue been asked 


party that’s 


toa New Year's Eve 


come-as-you-are. ...” 


THE VARGAS GIRL (continued) 


©... And I certainly did.” 


NEVADA 


like a mirage, his 
past life rose up from 
the desert, 
tantalizing and 
unreachable 


fiction By JOHN UPDIKE roor curr. His wite, Sarah, 


Wanted to marry her lover as soon as the divorce came through, she 
couldn't wait a day, the honeymoon suite in Honolulu had been booked 
six weeks in advance. So Culp, complaisant to a fault, agreed to pick the 
girls up in Reno and drive them back to Denver. He arranged to be in San 
Francisco on business and rented a car. Over the phone, Sarah mocked his 
plan—why not fly? An expert in petroleum extraction, he hoped by driv- 
ing to extract some scenic benefit from domestic ruin. Until they had 
moved to Denver and their marriage exploded in the thinner atmosphere, 
they had lived in New Jersey, and the girls had seen little of the West. 

He arrived in Reno around five the afternoon, having detoured 
south from Interstate 80. The city looked kinder than he had expected. He 
found the address Sarah had given him, a barn-red boardinghouse behind 
a motel distinguished by a giant flashing 
domino. He dreaded, yet anticipated, 
the pain of seeing Sarah again— 
divorced, free of him, exultant, 
about to take wing into a new mar- 
riage. But she had taken wing be- 
fore he arrived. His two daughters 
were sitting on a tired cowhide 
sofa, next to an empty desk, like 
patients in a dentist's anteroom. 

Polly, who was 11, leaped up to 
greet him. Then the fears of 
abandonment she had been 
entertaining rebuked her joy. 

“Mommy's left" she said. 

“She thought you'd be here 

hours ago.” 4 
, rose with a 


with her. 
really mad when you 
idn't show. 

Culp apologized, “1 
didn't know her sched- 
ule was so tight.” 

Laura perhaps 
misheard him, an- 
swering, “Yeah, she 
was really uptight.” 

“T took a little de- 
tour to see Lake 
Tahoe.” 


“Oh, Dad,” Laura said 
“You and your sight-seeing.” 

“Were you worried?” he asked. 

GE 

A little woman with a square jaw hopped from a side room behind the 
empty desk. “They was good as good, Mr. Culp. Just sat there, wouldn't 
even take a sandwich I offered to make for no charge, Laura here kept 
telling the little one, "Don't be childish, Daddy wouldn't let us down’ 
I'm Retsy Morgan, we've heard of each other but never met officially." 
Sarah had mentioned her in her letters: Morgan the pirate, the landlady. 
And her residency witness. Fred glimpsed himself through Mrs. Morgan's 
eyes. Cuckold. Defendant. Discardee, Though her eye was merry, the 
hand she offered him was dry as a bird's foot. 

He could only think to ask, “How did it go?” 

‘The question seemed foolish to him, but not to Mrs. Morgan. “Eleven 167 


ILLUSTRATION BY LEON TADRICK 


minutes, smooth as silk. Some of these 
judges, they give the girl a hard time 
just to keep themselves from being 
bored. But your Sary stood right up to 
him. She has that way about her.” 
“Yes, she did. Does. More and more. 
s, got your bags?” 

Would have kept their room one 
night more, but then this lady from 
Connecticut showed up yesterday could 
take it for the six weeks.” 

"That's fine. TI take them someplace 


PLAYBOY 


а, I tell you truly," 
the landlady said, and she bent down 
and kissed the two girls. This had been a 
family of sorts, there were real tears in 
her eyes; but Polly couldn't wait for the 
hug to pass before blurting to her father, 
“We had pool privileges at the Domino, 
and one time all these Mexicans came 
and used it for a bathroom!” 

They drove to a motel not the Domi- 
no. Laura and he watched Polly swim. 
“Laura, don't you want to put on 2 
suit?” 

“Naa. Mom made us swim so much I 
got diver's ear.” 

Gulp pictured Sarah lying on a pool- 
side chaise longue, in the bikini with 
the orange and purple splashes. One 
smooth wet arm was flung up to shield 
her eyes. Other women noticeably had 
legs or breasts; Sarah's beauty had been 
must vivid in her arms, arms fit for a 
Greek statue, rounded and fine and pale, 
arms that never aged, that preserved the 
grace of girlhood, without a trace of 
wobble above the elbow, though at her 
next birthday she would be 40. Indeed, 
that was how Sarah had put the need for 
divorce: She couldn't bear to turn 40 
with him. As if then you began a return 
journey that could not be broken. 

Laura was continuing, "Also, Dad, if 
you must know, it’s that time of the 
month." 

With clumsy jubilance, Polly hurled 
her body from the rattling board and sur- 
faced grinning through the kelp of her 
ovn hair. She climbed from the pool and 
slap-footed to his side, shivering. “Want 
to walk around and play the slots?” 
Goose bumps had erected the white hairs 
on her thighs into a ghostly halo. “Want 
10? It's fun. 

Laura intervened maternally. "Don't 
make him, Polly. Daddy's tired and 
depressed.” 

“Who says? Lets go. I may never see 
Reno again.” The city, as they walked, 
reminded him of New Jersey. its skyline 
low against the sky, whose desert clarity 
ig had the even steel tint of in- 
haze. Above drab shop fronts, 

second story windows proclaimed rei 
dence with curtains and a flowerpot. 
168 There were churches, which he hadn't 


expected. And a river, though not so 
grand as the Passaic, flowed through. 
Mecca to so many, the Reno courthouse 
seemed too modest, it wore the dis- 
heartened granite dignity of justice 
the country over. Only the downtown, 
garish as a carnival midway, was differ- 
ent. Polly led him to doors she was for 
bidden to enter and gave him nickels to 
play for her inside. She loved the dot 
machines, loved them for their fruity 
colors and their sleepless glow and their 
sudden gush of release, jingling, lighting, 
as luck struck now here. now there, 
across the dark casino. Feeling the silky 
heave of their guts as he fed the slot and 
pulled the handle, rewarded a few times 
with the delicious 5 g of coins into 
the troughs other hands had smoothed 
to his touch, Culp came to love them, 
too; he and Polly made a gleeful hopeful 
pair, working their way from casino to 
casino, her round face pressed to the 
window so she could sce him play, and the 
plums jerk into being, and the bells and 
cherries do their waltz of chance, 1-2-3. 
Опе place was wide open to the sidewalk. 
A grotesquely large machine stood ready 
for silver dollars. 

Polly said, “Mommy won twenty dol- 
lars on that one once.” 

Culp asked Laura, who had trailed 
after them in disdainful silence, “Was 
Jim with you the whole time?” 

“No, he only came the last week." She 
searched her father’s face for what he 
wanted to know. “He stayed at the 
Domino.” 

Polly drew close to listen. Culp asked 
her, “Did you like Jim?” 

Her eyes with difficulty shifted from 
visions of mechanical delight. “He was 
too serious. He said the slots were a 
racket and they wouldn't get a penny of 
his.” 

Laura said, “I thought he was an utter 
pill, Dad.” 

"You don't have to think that to 
please me.” 

He was. I told her, too. 

"You shouldn't have. Listen, it's her 
life, not yours." On the hospital-bright 
sidewalk, both his girls’ faces looked un- 
well, stricken. Culp put a silver dollar 
into the great machine, imagining that 
something of Sarah had rubbed off here 
and that through this electric ardor she 
might speak to him. But the machine's 
size was unnatural; the guts felt sluggish, 
spinning. A plum, a bar, a star. No win. 
Turning, he resented that Polly and 
Laura, still staring, seemed stricken for 
him. 

Laura said, “Better come eat, Dad. 
We'll show you a place where they have 
pastrami like back East.” 

As Route 40 poured east, Nevada 
opened into a strange no-color—a rusted 
gray, or the lavender that haunts the 


comers of oyerexposed color slides. The 
Humboldt River, which had sustained the 
pioneer caravans, shadowed the express- 
way shyly, tinting its valley with a dull 
green that fed decklings of cattle. But 
for the cattle, and the cars that brushed 
by him as if he were doing 30 and not 
80 miles an hour, and an occasional gas 
station and cabin café pron 
there was little sign of life in Neva 
This pleascd Culp; it enabled him to 
run off in peace the home movies of 
Sarah stored in his head. Sarah pushing 
the lawn mower in the South Orange back 
yard. Sarah pushing a blue baby car 
riage, English, with little white wheels, 
around the fountain in Washington 
Square. Sarah, not yet his wile, waiting 
for him in a brown-and-green peasant 
skirt under the marquee of a movic- 
house on 57th Street. Sarah, а cool sub- 
urban hostess in chalk-pink sack dress, 
casing through their jammed living 
room with a platter of parsleyed egg 
halves. Sarah after a party doing the 
twist, drunk in a black-lace bra, at the 
foot of their bed, Sarah in blue jeans cry- 
ing out that it was nobody's fault, that 
there was nothing he could do, just let her 
alone; and hurling a quarter pound of 
butter across the kitchen, so the calendar 
fell off the wall. Sarah in miniskirt leav- 
ing their house in Denver for a date, just 
like a teenager, the sprinkler on their 
flat front lawn spinning in the evening 
cool, against the prairie drought. Sarah 
trim and sardonic at the marriage coun- 
selor's, under the pressed. paper paneling 
where the man had hung not only his 
diplomas but his Aspen skiing medals. 
Sarah some Sunday long ago raising the 
shades to wake him, light flooding her 
translucent nightgown. Sarah lifting her 
sudden eyes to him at some table, some 
moment, somewhere, in conspiracy—he 
hadn't known he had taken so many 
reels, they just kept coming in his head. 
Nevada beautifully, emptily poured by. 
The map was full of ghost towns. Laura 
sat beside him, reading the map. “Dad, 
here's a town called Nixon.” 

t's go feel sorry for it.” 

“You passed it. It was off the road 
after Sparks, The next real town is 
Lovelock.” 

“What's real about it? 

“Should you be driving so fast?” 

In the back seat, Polly struggled with 
her needs. “Can we stop in the next real 
town to eat?’ 

Culp said, 
more breakfast. 

“I hate hashbrowns.” 

“But you like bacon.’ 

“The hashbrowns had touched i 

Laura said, “Polly, stop bugging 

(continued on page 240) 


You should have eaten 


HAITI, COODBYE 


sketches of a dark island: the greek surrealist, the ohio ladies, the graveside 
guards, the lapsed radical—and the smell of poverty that coats your skin 


article By BRUCE JAY FRIEDMAN Trey are tzApING a blind 


Haitian onto the plane. H€ is the blindest man I've ever seen. The kind of blind in 
which the eyes remain open and staring, two giant socketed holes with dead TV 
screens in them. He might have been branded. Or he was struck blind, from seeing 
something terrible. There is a tiny satchel of flesh below one socket that looks as if it 
might contain his old sight, all folded up and tucked away. Now they are taking 
him back to Haiti. Perhaps back to the thing that struck him blind. His blindness 
is enormous. Is he going to stand opposite that terrifying thing and not see it with 
that same enormity? 


Port-au-Prince. . . . I have been away for 13 years. The only difference is that 
the welcoming band is hooked up to electronic amps. I am almost through the air- 
port security net when an inspector spots a small Y-shaped handgrip in my carry- 
ing case. He doesn't like the looks of it. Suddenly, there are eight men with guns 
around me. I tell them it's for strengthening your grip and I demonstrate by 
knocking off a quick 75 with my right hand, 60 with my left, Not a smile in the 
crowd. They just don't like the looks of it. What are they (continued on page 172) 


CONSTRUCTION BY BEA PAUL 


THAT WAS THE YEAR THAT WAS 


Sinatra wowed the White House crowd. 
They cheered him loud and long. 

(He also wrote the lyrics for 

The Maxine Cheshire Song.) 


The housewives had a bone to pick 
As swine grew dear as pearls. 
And some swore, as their beef increased, 
The Butz to roast was Earl's. 


“Marlon go to Wounded Knee,” 


Sayum Injun lass. 
Brando brave a no-show there. 


Headed off at pass? 


The wedding for Britain's equestrian Anne, 
x According to Buckingham sources, 

Was planned by the princess to limit the guests 
To only immediate horses. 


Liza told the world about her 
Love that never ceases. 
Love for Desi, love for Peter, 
Love for press releases. 


The break-in try at Ellsberg's shrink 

Did not come off too well. 

They couldn't find Dan's file, ‘cause they 
Were looking under “ 


When Kekich and Peterson traded their wives, 
The Yankees were rocked with romance. 

Not even Cosell could recall such a play 
Since Tinker to Evers to Chance. 


When William Е. Buckley debated Ms. Greer, 

It clearly came off as her thing. 

“Just think,” said Germaine, "of the damage I'd do. 
If could get Bill in the ring. 


We learned, via Spiro, such words as nabobs; 
His language was rich in its splendor. He 
Also invented effete used with snobs, 

But who taught him nolo contendere? 


“American Family's" Patty and Bill 
Permitted the nation to learn 

How not to stay married (in 12 TV steps) 
By starring in “As the Louds Turn.” 


| The Palace pipes were leaking and the Knights were sore appalled, 
| “We've got to save the King!” and so a Plumbing Team was called. 
| The Yellow Pages ad they chose said, "Hunt & Liddy, Inc., 

We Guarantee to Stop г Leak and Find a Commie Link.” 

| They had the latest plumbing gear, the newest. model rigs, 

| And some had got their training on the job at Bay of Pigs. 

But, lo! They'd lost the King's address and, what a dreadful hassle, 
| Had blundered to the Watergate (а Democratic Castle). 

I Of course the bunch got busted there, like ordinary thugs, 

Just when their foreman, Jim McCord, was checking water bugs. 
| The Knights all said, “We're not involved; it’s just а third-rate crime, 
| 
| 
l 
1 
l 
| 
І 


We all were doing noble deeds At That Point in Time," 
The King was getting ready for a jousting for the crown, 
And though this talk of leaks and pipes might get his Highness down, 
The D.C. "Post" had scriveners who wouldn't let it go— 
Re: Who Did What and When to Whom . . . and Did the Good King Know? 
It might have flushed away, but Jim McCord was not cooperative. Was seconded by Howard B.—the G.0.P.'s new prince. 

ive!” Sirs Inouye and Weicker were such diligent expungers 
“What's that?” the Senate cried in shock. “The Palace pipes have flaws? Of evil-doing dastards, all villains feared their plungers. 
We'll make us a committee and we'll change the Plumbing Laws!” They summoned lots of witnesses, some very clean-cut types, 
Their Chairman, Sam of Simple Birth (albeit Harvard hints), And asked “em who did dirty to the nation's sacred pipes. 


humor By SUDITH WAX 
tongue-in-cheek remembrances of sundry newsmakers who —in word or deed —made the headlines in 73 


4 т They were а torrid twosome till 
Mr. Spitz swam up the aisle, ^ 
His Susan smiled and kissed ‘im, 2 пе рш тауа 


акан: Niss Carroll burned for someone else 
Mark believes in marriage, since 
It's like the buddy system. \ ‘And David got the Frost. 


John Connally went G.O.P. [ 37] y When Billie Jean played Bobby Riggs, 
Despite the White House panic. ( He couldn't have done worse. 

(He's also booking passage for т Riggs threatened to jump off а bridge. 
A cruise on the Titanic.) Said King, “I'll hold your purse.” 


The Burton bust-up stunned a world 
That waited tense for news 

Of who would get to keep the rocks 
And who would get the booze. 


The Justice Department had room at the top— 
Good pay, but an irksome requirement: 

Like Richardson, Ruckelshaus (and Mr. Cox), 
One must expect early retirement. 


They sing of Argentina's charms— 
The country's fair, the climates good. 
So Juan Perón just borrowed it 

While he таз in the neighborhood. 


Tom Hayden wed Ms. Fonda 
And now they're two love-nesters, 

Who, settled down to married bliss, 
Are raising wee protesters. 


Though Bradley won the L.A. race 
That brought Sam Yorty down, 
Sam hasn't heard about it yel, 
"Cause he's still out of town. 


Linda Lovelace, superstar, 
Has acting skills of note. 

The judges, though, were unimpressed 
And made her clear her throat. 


The Good King's men may need to stage Ye Goode Olde Break-and-Enter. 
The King, to save the nation, may consent to this maneuver —”" 

(At this, a ghostly moan was heard . . . the fate Sir Edgar Hoover!) 
Soon Lord High Haldeman appeared to join the witness traipse, - 

And everyone was jealous ‘cause he'd heard the Royal Tapes. 

A Kalmbach, Sloan and Kleindienst came, they faced the Counsel Dash, 
Sir Stans, who ruled the Counting House, was probed per Laundered Cash. 
A steady stream of witnesses, ‘twas wondrous to behold, 

With “dirty tricks” and “deep six” shticks and Mexicali gold. 

On, on they came, and ever on, and some Knights of the C.R.E E.P. 
Could tell a tale so piteous wouldst make a dragon weep. 

And some expressed complicity, while some maintained their purity 
(And some would steal your codpiece for the National Security!). 
Indeed, it was a fearsome time, good people cried, “What hit us? 
Whence came this wicked Watergate that verily undid us?” 

Perhaps we'll never know it all, but one thing's as it seemed: 

And some said, "Knave Magruder!” And some said, "Squire Dean!" When Plumbers doeth dirty work, the country getteth reamed! 

And Lady Martha phoned and said, "1 know my John is clean!” 

"Тіс | who told the King,” vowed Dean. “ ‘Your Majesty, | think. 

There's Cancer on the Kingship—and some ickies in your sink.’ " If you abhor this simple verse now that you have read it, 

Then Earl of Ehrlichman explained, “To catch a Red dissenter, Simply tear on dotted line and shred it, baby, shred it. 


ILLUSTRATIONS BY BILL UTTERBACH. 


m 


thinking—that I'm going to take over the 
country with a handgrip? Go down to 
the presidenr's palace, wave the grip at the 
palace guard and say, “АП right, nobody 
make a move"? They let me go, but they 
are still not convinced. Not really. 

Olofison’s. . . . Giant tropical salad of 
a hotel with a little chocolate mousse on 
the side. A very rich brew. House of 
Flowers, Casablanca, House of Blue 
Leaves, Serendipity and the Coney Island 
Fun House. If it were a cake, you could 
handle only a few bites a day. I once told 
an actor who was annoying me that he 
had too much charm. He told me it was 
the cruelest thing anyone had ever said 
to him. Olofison’s is just on the edge. Just. 
a little more charm and it goes sinking 
into the mud. I'll say this for it. There 
is no place in the world quite like it. I 
am put in the Mick Jagger Suite. It is 
next to the Barry Goldwater Suite. I look 
at the hotel brochure and find myself 
wedged between Sir John Gielgud and 
Lord Snowden as one of the many lumi- 
naries who have been here. Since I have 
never stayed at the hotel before, this 
opens up a credibility gap as to Sir John 
and Lord Snowden. Either that or it is 
the voodoo at work, calling me from the 
mainland. They must have known I 
would be here someday, so they simply 
included me in the literature. 

A girl bounces into the hotel, full of 
energy, heavy with metallic jewelry. She 
is the entire Village Voice rolled into one. 
Interests: folk art, shell collecting, aul- 
tural bike rides, pottery. She has recently 
enrolled in a course called Communica- 
tions: An Impetus to Change, offered by 
the Smithsonian Institution. 
just come from a small Hai 
where she has recorded the voices of chil- 
dren in 2 Baptist church. She whips into 
the lobby, plays some Bach on the piano 
and switches briskly to selections from 
Annie Get Your Cun. Comes back and 
hurls some rock specimens onto a table, 
also a little petrified wood. There is 
something missing. She says she is study- 
ing pre-Columbian art on the side. That's 
what was missing. I don’t usually do this, 
but I take it upon myself to suggest that 
she pare herself down a bit, simplify her 
life. She looks at me and says, “You're a 
very auractive man." 

I am joined at dinner by a sugar beet 
C.P.A, an American accountant who 
counts Haitian beets for a sugar com- 
pany. We talk about Haiti. He says he 
doesn't know if there has been progress. 
When "Baby Doc" Duvalier visited Cap. 
Haitien to dedicate a plaque, 50 locals 
had to be put in jail for the duration of 
the vi I reach for the butter and he 
winces. He advises me not to touch the 
172 dairy products, not unless I want "the 


PLAYBOY 


HAITI, COODBYE oninncd from page 169) 


Haitian jollies.” I skip on to the main 
course and I am about to dig in to the 
squash when he shrugs and says 
funeral." Vegetables are out, too. When 


I reach for some cold mango, he says, "I 
hope you've brought along twenty or 
I was quite 


thirty changes of underwear." 
ill the last time I visited Hai 
back, so even though my appetite is sav- 
age, I wind up eating bread and drinking 
wine. I am about to put a little salt on 
the bread when he says, "Oops." Salt is 
ош, too. І find out later that he is a fel- 
low with a sensitive stomach who gets 
sick all over the world. The next day I 
dig in—salt, buter, squash, mango, 
mountain goat, the works. Nothing hap- 
pens. I feel fine. 


"The last time I was in Haiti, I was with 
my wife. Now I'm alone. І notice that 
when you are alone and seem to be 
enjoying your own company, it makes 
people emit. Everyone wants 
to help you and get you to join in. Less 
than perfect couples want to get at your 
secret. You can't fake this alone business. 
You have to want to be alone for it to 
work. On that last trip. people wore pi 
tols on the hip and the hotel owner trav- 
cled about in an armored car. I saw my 
first serious roadblock, not the state- 
trooper kind but one that said it was pos- 
sible to get killed. Two people hanging 
on a hook, as a warning for the villagers. 
1 don't know if I saw that hook or read 
I honestly don't 
nd of place. Poverty 
is a word that doesn't apply. Poverty is 
civilized. This is beyond poverty, It has a 
smell to it that coats your skin and lin- 
gers for years. 

A few Haitians have whatever money 
there is. They are schooled in France and 
send their children there. One of them 
had whipped us through a village at 100 
miles an hour. If someone happened to 
get caught on the fenders . . . well. ... 
‘There aren't a million stories out there. 
‘There is just one—and a grim tale it is. 
All that flesh. You have the feeling you 
can order up a dozen ten-yearolds 
through room service—six boys, six girls, 
two with a limp—and they will be served 
with a frozen daiqi and hors d'oeuvres. 
I've been there. This time I'll stay at the 
hotel and get some sun. That ferocious 
tian sun. I'll stay at the pool and let 
the island come to me. It does. 

At the pool the most perfectly 
matched couple I have ever seen, They 
are slender, small-boned and French. Ev- 
erything they do is in sync. They swim 
an immaculate rhythm and put on 
suntan lotion that way, too. He is the 
male version of her and she is the female 
version of him. When they look at cach 
other, it must be like staring into a mir- 
ror, one that adjusts for gender. Is it 


about it or drcamed 


possible they are brother and sister? 1 
ink so, but I am not ruling that 
they find each other alter a long, 
ng search or did they luck into 
this arrangement? I would like to have 
the answer to that one. You don't want 
to ask them questions, somehow. It might 
throw them off the beat. They dry ofl, 
after a swim, and sit on a chaise longue, 
arranging themselves like book ends, This 
is what the word couple must mean. 1 
have an idea of what their lovemaking 
must be like. 1 would like to see it, but I 
am not sure I could take too much of it. 
It must be pretty and also masturbatory 
Tt would upset me a bit if I found out 
that either one had a lover. But I would 
not be surprised. There would have to be 
a need to get an atonal note in the pic 
ture, to break that perfect rhythm. 

Three middle-aged ladies from Ohio. 
‘They take up a great deal of room at the 
pool, mostly because of their equipment. 
Aspirin boules, containers of milk, head- 
ache powders. It takes me longer than it 
should to realize that this is drunk equip- 
ment. The ladies are on a drunk tour. 
They are not modestly and discreetly 
tipsy but plastered, ossified, blasted out 
of their skulls. In the broiling sun. That 
is what they have come all the way down 
to Haiti for. They are sad, but they are 
also desperately unattractive. It gives you 
a hangover just to look at them. Squint- 
ing through swollen lids, а once-pretty 
one announces that she would love to be 
taken to a “bawdyhouse.” 1 don't pick up 
on this. When I don't, she says I have 

I still don't pick u - 
stead, I concoct a story about practicing 
abstinence. I think this works the wrong 
way. It adds to my charisma. 

A young sales executive tries to organ- 
ire a bareass swimming party at mid- 
night. The ladies dig down deep and 
«ome up with some shyness. Hc hits thc. 
bare-ass phrase very hard, The great leap 
forward in sexual understanding has 
passed him by. He is stuck in the Fifties. 
With bare-ass. I wait for him to organize 
a panty raid. Im sure that's next. Later, 
1 find out he has taken the Ohio ladies to 
Madam Evelyns, where the whores, 
shaky in their geography, have serenaded 
the foursome with Tennessee Waltz. On 
reflection, it seems a very kind thing for 
him to have done. 

Late in the afternoon, a couple swims 
toward me; the young man has cheerful 
blue eyes and a gold ring in his ear. The 
girl is compact, Arabic. I do a quick read- 

and take them for a couple from a 
New York suburb. He is in children's 
wear but would like to be known asa fel- 
low with freaky tastes. The gold earring. 
lt is almost fun when I find out how 
wrong I am. The fellow is a famed Sixties 
radical whose voice once went booming 

(continued on page 214) 


THE COUNTRY THAT WASN'T THERE 


opinion 


BY GARRY WILLS 


we were searching for something 
called america during the sixties, 
but no one could ever find it 


THE LIBERALS did not desert; they were 
deserted—that is what made the whole 
thing so painful, After the martyrdoms 
{ Chaney and Goodman and Schwerner, 
white kids were told to get out. It was 
like a scene from Mad magazine. with 
Indians pouring in on the Lone Ranger: 
‘We're surrounded, Tonto.” “What's this 
we, white man?" Liberals who wanted to 


CONSTRUCTION BY VINCENT PEREZ 


sway, holding hands, as they sang We 
Shall Overcome, found the black hand 
withdrawn and a sneer that said, "You 
are what we'll overcome." SNCC rhetori- 
cians took to saying the white men they 
liked to deal with were Goldwater and 
Wallace—you knew where you stood with 
them. Anything you can wrest from 

Wallace is no favor but concession to an 


opposing power. Blick power early came 
to prefer demanding to begging. 

It is hard to remember, now, how the 
mere term black sent shivers down liberal 
spines, making the very N in SNCC ob- 
solete, and the CP of NAACP—all the 
good work disowned or undone, inte- 
gration halted or reversed. “Black and 
white to-geh-eth-ther-ur"—no more. “God 
is on our si-ihe-ide-uh"—whose side? And. 
which God? God is black, man. He's got 
to pass a color test to get on the Black 
man's side. White liberals flunked the test. 

A horrible vision was called up, the 
“two nations, separate amd unequal,” of 
the Kerner report. The new blacks even 
called themselves a nation, and “the 
blood.” Racism had returned on the 
other side of the barricades. And if there 
were to be two nations, then why not 
more? Not only black against white 
but cracker against bleeding heart, Car- 
michael against King. Our country had 
never been united on what we had. But 
now it was divided on what we wanted. 
We did not lose unity (not having it to 
lose) but the very ideal of being united. 

And just as things were coming un- 
stuck at home, they fell apart on the i 
ternational scene. In the early Sixties, 
a horde of new nations thronged 
colorfully to the General Assembly, a 
whole Third World in chat organization 
balanced between the Free World of Ken- 
nedy rhetoric and the Russians’ satel 
system, Tribesmen were assembling to let 
us know the Congo was no longer ours 
for the disposing. (Foo bad they didn't 
convince us that the same was true of 
Vietnam —but the tribes invited did not 
yet include the Chinese.) Strangers had 
taken over the big powers’ forum: The 
big powers took revenge by ignoring 
the forum. 

But though the UN faded in impor 
tance, those first African arrivals stayed 
vivid in the memory. They came with ex- 
otic tides and costumes, registered at the 
best hotels and were treated with all 
diplomatic courtesy. Cabdrivers might 
still think them jigs, but these were offi- 
cial jigs—and they had to be treated 

Шу. Harlem would never be the same. 


PLAYBOY 


Castro thought he could impress black 
Americans by camping out on 116th 
Street 


and scattering chicken bones 
but some younger activists were 
more interested. in those foreign digni 
taries eating the Americana Hotel's pai 
Soon Harlem kids were choosing African 
ancestors and shopping around among 
languages (Swahili was a favorite) for res- 
onant new names. Little Leroy down the 
street was now called Burning Spear, and 
where would it all end? 
Most of the worries were groundless. 
Leroy had gone clangorously after proph- 
ets who—when they got him out in the 
wilderness (or in jail)—taught him the 
Protestant work ethic. The Muslims 
might speak in a mystical way, but they 
174 were banking solid cash. And some of 


the younger militants began equating 
black power with green power. When 
they said that, any Imamu or Amari was 
talking good America 
guage of the buck. Most Mu 
bared teeth and flashing scimitars, were 
fighting their way into the middle class, 
using the African bush as a springboard 
into the bourgeoisie. Africa was the 
route, but America was the goal—a place 
they could reach only by this detour. 

For these people were not Americans, 
not yet. They had not been let in. They 
were withdrawing from us, therefore, to 
come back at us fresh from А! „ land- 
ing on our shore and wanting in; but 
really in this time—in on terms, and they 
would set the terms. They were so anx- 
ious to tell us they had just come from 
Africa that they tried to look like the 
bush, with Afros and naturals like explo- 
sions of black consciousness fuming out 
of their heads. They had to have a whole 
new language to show us they were not 
just up from the plantation, their hand- 
kerchiefed heads newly conked. On the 
other hand, the things they had avoided 
when they were asked to be off-white were 
now being flaunted, such as soul food 
and the preacher's style. It was a psychic 
maneuver both startling and subtle. It al- 
most gave us a reprieve from history, а 
second chance. “Don't botch it this 
time,” was the real edge on their threat. 

Mainly, of course, man being what he 
we botched it. At least part of the rea- 
son is that white students, expelled trom 
the blacks’ movement, misunderstood the 
advice to go take care of their own, 
James Baldwin said race is the white 
man's problem, not the black's. But the 
white students did not so much open 
their society to racial pariahs as discover 
they were pariahs themselves, in need of 
a movement all their own. Mario Savio 
came back from registering blacks in the 
South and decided to liberate from its 
bondage to official scorn the oppressed 
word fuck. This seemed at first a satire 
оп democracy—equal rights for all men; 
equal rights for all words. But a different 
logic was at work here, one entirely 
sed by those who said the free-speech 
ids lacked civility. They were not lack- 
ing in civility but at war with it—with 
the authorized charm of words that 
strands them for ten years in politely 
scheduled irrelevance. Sociologists call 
ours an interstitial society: and students 
fall into one of the greatest interstices, 
drift there weightless, falling, for a dec- 
айс or more of their lives. They mesh 
with mo part of the world’s workings; 
their gears do not mesh but spin wildly, 
disengaged; no wonder, when the gears 
were pushed against social reality, they 
just chewed into the scenery. Outside 
their parents’ homes, without families of 
their own yet, transient, with young ener- 
gies unrecruitable for serious enterprise, 
the students move aimlessly home and 
back, to school and out on vacation, 


resentful, yet guilty at their resentment 
The civil rights movement had given 
some of these young people a purpose; 
but now that was withdrawn from them. 
And they felt. like the blacks, out of 
place. They were not oppressed; they 
simply did not belong to the society in 
any immediate sense. They were comfort- 
ably functionless. So they, too, came at us 
in outlandish ways, from out of our land 
entirely. From Africa, wearing white 
Afros somehow teased high up over be- 
spectacled white faces. From Asia, trailing 
their swamis and clattering beads. From 
European dreams of anarchic plots. From 
outer space, weird and zapped, star-trek- 
king in. But the farther out they came 
from, the more urgently they wanted 
in—into Sproul Plaza, or the administra- 
tion building, or ће R. O. T. C. office. 
"They "occupied" the places they had 
merely camped in, nomads threatening 
the ranchers, gypsies come to kidnap other 
children, swelling their own ranks. They 
took possession ol their own files, the 
school records, deportation slips from 
school to school, certifying “rights” for 
these displaced persons of privilege. 
They were gratuitously rude in the 
same way blacks had been. The blacks 
laid claim to African energy. The kids 
liberating words expressed the sexual 
drives and violence of adolescence. They 
were barbarians landing, not children 
asking for bigger allowances: “Accept us 
or well sack your city.” Black hostility 
had been mobilized to get compensatory 
treatment for the underprivileged, while 
avoiding the taint of condescension. The 
kids’ crudity was meant to take posses 
sion of favors without feeling guilty, апу. 
more, that these privileges had not been 
won. They were now being stolen. Mr. 
Chips had to be stung into violent reac- 
tion of his own—much as Rap Brown 
wanted to deal with Wallace, not some 
bleeding heart. So the kids arrived, un- 
ruly strangers, with nonnegotiable de- 
mands. As blacks emphasized their own 
sh side—"I'm а baaad nigger"—so the 
called themselves “motherfuckers” 
and “the freaks.” The crazies, The kids. 
It was harder for students, whose real 
(and recent) past was spent in middle- 
dass homes, to come up with a history 
of themselves as foreign. Ghetto. blacks 
could dream a ‘Tedhnicolored Africa. 
The kids had to settle for dim scraps of 
Marxist theory—themselves the proletar- 
iat, employed by teachers, grades their 
wages (slaverys chain) and lack of stu- 
dent control on campus a sign of class 
exploitation. Actually, as Robert Paul 
Wolff points out, academic wage slaves 
areall on the faculty. Students are a privi- 
leged class for whom these employees 
are hired by parents and the statc, acting 
through a managerial class of adminis- 
uators. The real history of academi 
freedom was a process of liberating the 
teacher from  state-alumni censorship. 
(continued on page 212) 


PLAYBOY 


opposing power. Black power early camt 
to prefer demanding to begging. 

It is hard to remember, now, how the 
mere term black sent shivers down liberal 
spines, making the very N in SNCC ob. 
solete, and the CP of NAACP—all the 
good work disowned or undone, inte. 
gration halted or reversed. "Black and 
white to-geh-eth-ther-ur"—no more. “God 
is on our stie ide-uh"— whose side? And 
which God? God is black, man. He's got 
to pass a color test to get on the "Black 
man’s side. White liberals flunked the test. 

A horrible vision was called up, the 

ns, separate and uncqual," of 
the Kerner report. The new blacks even 
called themselves a nation, and “the 
blood.” Racism had returned on the 
other side of the barricades. And if there 
were to be two nations, then why not 
more? Not only black against white 
but cracker against bleeding heart, Саг. 
michael against King. Our country had 
never been united on what we had. But 
now it was ided on what we wanted. 
We did not lose unity (not having it to 
lose) but the very ideal of being united. 

And just as things were coming un. 
stuck at home, they fell apart on the 
ternational scene. In the early Sixties, 
a horde of new nations thronged 
colorfully to the General Assembly, a 
whole Third World in that organization 
balanced between the Free World of Ken- 
nedy rhetoric and the Russians’ satellite 
system, Tribesmen were assembling to let 
us know the Congo was no longer ours 
for the disposing. (Too bad they didn't 
conyince us that the same was true of 
Vietnam—but the tribes invited did not 
yet include the Chinese.) Strangers had 
taken over the big powers’ forum: The 
big powers took revenge by ignoring 
the forum. 

But though the UN faded in impor- 
tance, those first African arrivals stayed 
vivid in the memory. They came with ex- 
otic titles and costumes, registered at the 
best hotels and were treated with all 
diplomatic courtesy. Cabdrivers might 
still think them jigs, but these were offi- 
jigs—and they had to be treated 
civilly. Harlem would never be the same. 
Castro thought he could impress black 
Americans by camping out on 116th 
Street and scattering chicken bones 
around: but some younger activists were 
more interested in those foreign digni- 
taries eating the Americana Hotel's påté. 
Soon Harlem kids were choosing African 
ancestors and shopping around among 
languages (Swahili was a favorite) for res- 
onant new names. Little Leroy down the 
street was now called Burning Spear, and 
where would it all end? 

Most. of the worries were groundless, 
Leroy had gone clangorously after proph- 
ets who-- when they got him out in the, 
wilderness (or in jail}—taught him the | 
Protestant work ethic. The Muslims) 
might speak in a mystical way, but they 


YA were banking solid cash. And some of | 


fiction 
BY SEAN OXYAOLAIN 


HE HAD NOW BEEN STALKING his beautiful Mlle. O'Mur- 
phy, whose real name was Mrs. Meehawl O'Sullivan, 
for some six weeks, and she had appeared to be so 
amused at every stage of the hunt, so responsive, 
séduisante, even entrainante, that he could already 
foresee the kill over the next horizon. At their first 
encounter, during the Saint Patrick's Day cocktail 
party at the Dutch embassy, accompanied by a 
husband who had not a word to throw to a cat 
about anything except the scissors and shears that 
he manufactured somewhere in the west of Ireland, 
and who was obviously quite ill at ease and drank 
too much lrish whisky, what had attracted him 
to her was not only her splendid Courbet figure 
(whence his sudden nickname for her, La Morphée), 
or her copper-colored hair, her lime-green Irish 
eyes and her seemingly poreless skin but her calm, 
total and subdued elegance: the Balenciaga cos- 
tume, the peacockskin gloves, the gleaming croco- 
dile handbag, a glimpse of tiny, lace-edged lawn 
handkerchief and her dry, delicate scent. He had 
a grateful eye and nose for such things. It was, 
after all, part of his job. Their second meeting, two 
weeks later, at his own embassy had opened the 
doors. She came alone. 

Now, at last, inside a week, perhaps less, there 
would be an end to all the probationary encoun- 
ters that followed—mostly her inventions, at his 
persistent appeals—those wide-eyed fancy-meet- 
ing-you-heres at the zoo, at race meetings, after- 
noon cinemas, in art galleries, at more diplomatic 
parties (once he had said gaily to her, "The whole 
diplomacy of Europe seems to circle around our 
interest in each other"), those long drives over the 
Dublin mountains in his sports Renault, those titil- 
lating rural lunches, nose to nose, toe to toe (rural 
because she quickly educated him to see Dublin 
as a stock exchange for gossip, a casino of scan- 
dal), an end, which was rather a pity, to those 
charming unforeseen-foreseen, that is to say pro- 
posed but in the end just snatched, afternoon 
promenades champétres under the budding leaves 
and closing skies of the Phoenix Park, with the first 
lights of the city springing up below them to mark 
the end of another boring day for him in Ailesbury 
Road, at the embassy, for her another possibly 
cozier but, he selfishly hoped, not much more ex- 
citing day in her swank boutique on Saint Stephen's 
Green. Little by little those intimate encounters, 
those murmured confessions had lifted acquaint- 
ance to friendship, self-mocking smiles over some 
tiny incident during their last meeting to eager 
anticipation of the next, an aimless tenderness 
twanging to appetite like an arrow. Or, at least, 


He had not seen, heard 
nor smelled anything in those 
five minutes of passion. 


PLAYBOY 


that was how he felt about it all. Any 
day now, even any hour, the slow count 
down, slower than the slow movement of 
Mendelssohn's Concerto in E Minor, or 
the most swoony sequence from the Sieg- 
fried Idyl, or that floating spunsugar 
balloon of Mahler's Song of the Earth, to 
the music of which on his gramophone 
he would imagine her smiling sidelong at 
him as she sofily disrobed, and his ingen- 
ious playing with her, his teasing and 
warming of her moment by moment for 
the roaring, blazing takeoff. To the 
moon! 

Only one apprehension remained 
with him, not a real misgiving, some- 
thing nearer to a recurring anxiety. It 
was that at the last moments, when her 
mind and her body ought to take leave 
of each other, she might take to her 
heels. It was a fear that flooded him 
whenever, with smiles too diffident to 
reassure him, she would once again 
mention that she was a Roman Catho- 
lic, or a Cat, a Papist or a Pape, a con- 
vent girl, and once she laughed that 
during her school days in the convent, 
she had actually been made an enfant 
de Marie. The words never ceased to 
startle him, dragging him back misera- 
bly to his first sexual frustration with 
his very pretty but unexpectedly proper 
cousin Berthe Ohnet during his lycée 
years in Nancy; a similar icy snub a few 
years later Quebec; repeated still 
later by that smack on the face in Rio 
that almost became a public scandal; 
memories so painful that whenever an 
attractive woman nowadays mentioned 
religion, cven in so simple a contex 
"Thank God I didn't buy that hat, or 
frock, or stock, or mare,” a red flag at 
once began to flutter in his belly. 

Obsessed, every time she uttered one 
of those ominous words, he rushed for 
the reassurance of what he called The 
Sherbec Test, which meant observing 
the effet on her of some tentatively 
sexy joke, like the remark of the young 
princess on tasting her first sherbet: 
“Oh, how absolutely delici 
what a pity it isn't a To his relief, 
she not only always laughed merrily at 
his stories but always capped them, in- 
deed, at times so startling him by her 
coarseness that it only occurred to him 
quite late in their day that this might 
be her way of showing her distaste for 
his diaphanous indelicacies. He had 
once or twice observed that priests, 
peasants and children will roar with 
laughter at some scavenger joke and 
growl at even a veiled reference to a 
thigh. Was she a child of nature? Still, 
again and again, back would come 
those disturbing words. He could have 
understood them from a prude, but 
what on earth did she mean by them? 
Were they so many herbs to season her 
desire with pleasure in her naughti- 
ness? Flicks of nasty puritan sensuality 


178 to whip her body over some last ditch 


of indecision? It was only when the 
final came that he wondered if 
this might not all along have been her 
way of warning him that she was nei- 
ther a light nor a lecherous woman, nei- 
ther a flirt nor a flibbertigibbet, that in 
matters of the heart she was une femme 
trés sérieuse. 

He might have guessed at something 
like it much earlier. He knew almost 
from the first day that she was bien 
élevée, her father a judge of the Su- 
preme Court, her uncle a monsignor at 
the Vatican. a worldly, sport-loving, 
learned, contriving priest who had per- 
suaded her poppa to send her for a fin- 
ishing year to Rome with the Sisters of 
the Sacred Heart at the top of the 
Spanish Steps: chiefly, it later appeared, 
because ıt convent was near the centre 
hippique ın the Borghese gardens and it 
was his right reverend's opinion that no 
Irish girl could possibly be said to have 
completed her education until she had 
learned enough about horses to ride to 
hounds. She had told him a lot, and most 
amusingly, about. this unde, who, when 
she had duly returned from Rome to 
Dublin, and whencver he came over for 
the hunting. always rode beside her. 
This attention had mightily flattered 
her until she discovered that she was 
being used as a cover for his uncontrol- 
lable passion for Lady Kinvara and 
Loughrea, then the master, some said the 
mistress, of the Clare-Galway hounds. 

“How old were you then?” Ferdy 
asked, fascinated. 

“L was at the university. Four blissful, 
idling years. But Y got my degree. I was 
quick. / she smiled, “good-looking. 
Te helps, even with professors.” 
ng to hounds as a student?” 

“Why пог? In Ireland, everybody 
docs. Children do. You could ride to 
hounds on a plow horse if you had 
nothing else. So long as you keep out of 
the way of real hunters. I only stopped 
after my marriage, when | had a mis- 
carriage. And I swear that was only 
because I was thrown." 

A monsignor who was sportloving, 
worldly and contriving. He understood, 
and approved. It explained many 
about her. 

The only other ways in which her 
dash, beauty and gaiety puzzled and be- 
guiled him were trivial. Timid she was 
not; she was game for any risk. But the 
coolness of her weather eye often sur- 
prised him. 

“The Leopardstown Races? Oh, 
what a good idea, Ferdy! Let's meet 
there. . . . The Phoenix Park Races? 
No, not there. Too many doctors show- 
ing off their wives and their cars, trying 
to be noticed. And taking notice. Re- 
member, a lot of my college friends 
married doctors. . . . No, not that cinc- 
ma. It has become vogueish. . . . In fact, 
cinema on the south side of the 
river. What we want is a good old flea- 


bitten picture house on the north side 
where they show nothing but Westerns 
and horrors and where the kids get in 
on Saturday mornings for thruppence. 

. Oh, and do, please, only ring the 
boutique in an emergency. Girls gossip.” 

Gould she be calculating? For а sec- 
ond of jealous heat, he wondered if she 
could possibly have another lover. Cool- 
ing, he saw that if he had to keep a 
wary сус in his master's direction, she 
had to think of her bourgeois clientele. 
Besides, he was a bachelor, and would 
remain one. She had to manage her 
inexpressibly dull, if highly success- 
ful, old scissorsand-shears manufacturer, 
well past 50 and probably as suspicious 
as he was boring; so intensely, so cx- 
haustingly boring that the only subject 
about which she could herself nearly 
become boring was her frequent com- 
plaints about his boringness. Once she 
was frightening, when she spat out that. 
she had hated her husband ever since 
the first night of their marriage. He 
had taken her—it was odd how long, 
and how intensely, this memory had 
rankled—not, as he had promised, to 
Paris for their honeymoon but to his 
bloody scissors-and-shears factory in the 
wet wilds of northern Donegal. ("Just 
me, dear, ha-ha, to let 'em see, haha, 
other half of me scissors.”) 

Ferdy had, of course, never asked her 
why she had married such a cretin; not 
after sizing up her house, her furniture, 
her pictures, her clothes, her boutique. 
Anyway, only another cretin would dis- 
courage any pretty woman from grum- 
bling about her husband: (A) because 
such grumblings give a man a chance to 
show what a deeply sympathetic nature 
he has and (B) because the irformation 
incidentally supplied helps one arrange 
one's assignations in places and at times 
suitable to all concerned. 

Adding it all up (he was a persistent 
adder-upper), only one problem had so 
far defeated him: that he was a for- 
eigner and did not know what sort of 
women Irishwomen arc. [t was not as if 
he had not done his systematic best to 
find out, beginning with a course of 
reading through the novels of her coun- 
uy. A vain exercise. With the exception 
of the Molly Bloom of James Joyce, the 
Irish Novel had not only failed to prc- 
sent him with any fascinating woma 
but it had presented him with, in his 
sense of the word, no woman at all. 
Irish fiction was a lot of 19th Century 
connerie about half-savage Brueghelesque 
peasants, or urban petits fonctionnaires 
bly solved their (ал ыг 


or undiluted whisky, or by taking flight 
to England. Pastoral melodrama (Giono 
at his worst). Or pastoral humbuggery 
(Bazin at his most sentimental). Or, at its 
best, pastoral lyricism (Daudet and rose 

(continued on page 192) 


180 


Miss Septemben 


Geri Gloss (right), after posing 
for our September centerfold, 
traveled around the country for 
a while; then she returned to 
LA. and was all set to resume 
her studies at Col State when 
she got a coll from a major 
film director. In classic Holly- 
wood style, he'd noticed the 
gotefold and figured she might 
be just right for a part he was 
trying to cast. So ot presstime, 
Geri was eagerly awaiting her 
screen test; if it works out, she 
just might have to put that next 
semester indefinitely on "hold." 


Misa June 


Ruthy Ross (opposite), whose 
Playmate appearance closely 
followed o sojourn as Bunny of 
the Year—1972, greeted key- 
holders as Door Bunny at our 
new Los Angeles Club. She's 
done a few TV shows—a re- 
cent segment of Adam's Rib, for 
one—ond, like so топу of last 
year's gatefold girls, she's done 
some wandering; in her case, to 
Las Vegas and Son Francisco. 
Lately, though, she's been stay- 
ing at home in Resedo—carpet- 
ing rooms, installing appliances 
and otherwise fixing up things. 


Misa April 


Julie Woodson (left), the country girl 
who made good in New York, hesn't 
gotten into any new bog since we 
checked with her last July. But then, she 
hasn't needed to. She's still in Manhat- 
fon, where she's one of the busiest 
ladies in the modeling business (chances 
are that in the past week clone, you've 
seen her in about a dozen TV commer- 


cials or mogazine ads). She still studies 
acting—ond karate—on the side. She 
still keeps in touch with her mother back 
in Kansas. And Julie—who walked off 
the Super Fly set after a dispute over o 
nude scene—continues to get movie 

fers, which she keeps turning down: 
Either the money's not right or the part 
isn't right; | don't want jus! any role." 


Miss duly 


Martha Smith (above), like Julie, wants 
to break into films—to direct them rath- 
er than to act in them—but she, too, 
hasn't made much progress in that di 

rection lately. The reason is the same— 
her modeling career has kept her too 
busy—and it's parily our fault, We've 
had Martha on a promotion-a-week 
schedule that obliges her 10 leave town 


every Wednesday or Thursday, to 
grace the opening of a new shopping 
center ar apartment complex some- 
where; the rest of the time, she handles 
her regular assignments in Detroit. But 
Martha's planning to make movies, 
and in the next year or so she may head 
westword—and/or go back to school 
in order to study the film moker's art. 


183 


Misa August 


Phyllis Coleman (opposite) 
hasn't worried too much lately 
about her boss—and man—rac- 
ing-car driver David Cormony. 
But only because he hasn't hod 
much opportunity to roce—and 
that’s not good. It's been c little 
Tough to come up with the kind 
of financiol sponsorship that а 
driver needs in order to com- 
pete. Phyllis is confident, how- 
ever, that things will get better. 
1n the meantime, she's helping 
other young people find jobs, 
under the aegis of the Colifor- 
nio Department of Employment. 


Misa Octoben 


Valerie Lone (left), who styles 
hair for mole customers at 
Mr. Ron's, in Newport Beach, 
California, has noticed a real 
upsurge in business lately; it 
seems that a lot of guys noticed 
Valerie's centerfold and de- 
cided to lose their locks—spe- 
cifically, ot Мг. Ron's. Some 
showbiz people oppear to have 
noticed, too: Yalerie’s gotten 
several acting offers. Because 
she’s a neophyte when it comes 
to performing, however, she's 
decided to consult an agent 
before making any moves. 


185 


Misa November 


Monica Tidwell (left) is the most enig- 
matic of 1973's Playmates. Since her 
gatefold appecrance, Monica's gone 
underground. Though we see her 
around now and then, she’s no longer 
pushing a pedicab or selling ice cream 
and records, Because she doesn't need 
the money now? "Well, that's port of 
the reason—but not all of it.” Mysteri- 


ous pause. Monica was at home when 
we cought her, ond she'd been spend- 
ing а lot of time there, reading books 
and pondering the future ("I guess you 
could say I'm waiting to see what hop- 
pens next"). In the post, though, Monica 
has told us she wants to write a novel. 
We wouldn't be surprised if she were 
taking o crack at it—and not telling us. 


Misa Januany 


Miki Garcia (above) hasn't slowed 
down a bit. Well, she's dropped one 
job—she no longer works os on insur- 
ance underwriter. But Miki's been travel- 
ing everywhere from Florida ta Han- 
lulu (resulting in “jet log," she claims); 
she's designed a new line of swimwear 
that she expects to be on the market in 
a few months; she still lobbies for home- 


less animals (“The state capital sees me 
quite often”); and she went to a White 
House dinner last spring as the date of 
a former P.O.W. Miki's also been on 
TV a lot, as a madel, ond as co-emcee 
of several telethans—and there's a 
good chance that by the time you read 
this, she'll have her own TV talk show 
{if she doesn't run out of breath first). 


187 


188 


Miss May 


Anulka Dziubirısku (right), who 
is British born, despite the 
name, began her post-Playmate 
life by crossing the U.S. Then 
she went back to Europe—with 
а vengeance, hitting just about 
every country there, plus the 
Canary Islands, where she spent 
almost four months ("They're 
totally uncommercialized"]. An- 
ulka herself, though, has been 
making commercials for British 
TV—and digging it. “I've only 
buckled down to it in the last 
two months,” she says, “but I'm 
doing well." We believe her. 


Misa Manch 


Bonnie Large (opposite) no 
longer hangs out with Ralph the 
robot, nor lets a magician saw 
her in half in front of conven- 
tioneers—not since she quit the 
production company she was 
working for and moved to Pasa 
dena, where she’s been model- 
ing, taking temporary office 
jobs, studying modern dance 
‘and giving classes in skin care 
for o company that makes “nat- 
ural” cosmetics. Bonnie's on 
kind of a natural kick, in fact: 
“I gave up all processed foods, 
and it does make o difference.” 


“ele 


Misa December 


Christine Maddox (left) hadn't yet ap- 
peared in PLAYBOY when we went to 
press—so we're по! able to report too 
many significant changes in her life. 
When we last talked to Christine, how- 
ever, she was thinking of a trip to Vir- 
ginia to see relatives. She had already 
modeled in several ads for PLAYBOY and 
was expecting to do more of the same. 


She was also planning to replace her 
ten-speed bike, which was token from 
the sidewalk in front of her Long Beach 


apartment last fall. And she told us she 


hoped her Playmate experience would 
enable her to meet "a lot of inter- 
esting people.” (No problem there, 
Christine; just wait till those cards and 
letters stort piling up in the mailbox.) 


Misa Febnuany 


Cyndi Wood (above) lets no grass grow 
under her feet. First, her singing career 
has been going great guns—she's been 
doing a lot of studio work, night-club 
gigs and TV shows (Sonny & Cher, for 
one). She's continued her modeling os a 
side line—and even picked up c new 
activity: photography. Thot started as 
a hobby, but Cyndi is fast becoming 


professional at it. She's already had 
а number of cammissions—for actors’ 
portfolios ond for magazine advertise- 
ments ranging from matarcycles to cig- 
огећеѕ. And her ambition knows no 
bounds: She told us that she'd like to 
shoot a centerfold herself someday. If 
she does, she'll be the first Playmate to 
make it on both sides of the camera. 


191 


FAITHLESS WIFE 


water). As for Molly Bloom! He enjoyed 
the smell of every kissable pore of her 
voluptuous body without for one mo- 
ment believing that she had ever existed. 
James Joyce in drag. 
" he had finally implored his 
id in Ailesbury Road, Hai 
Bey. the third secretary of the Turkish 
embassy, whose amorous secrets he will- 
ingly purchased with his own, "if it is 
too much to expect Ireland to produce 
a bevy of Manons, Mitsous, Gigis, Clau- 
dines, Kareninas, Oteros, Leahs, Sanse- 
verinas, what about those greacthighed, 
vast-bottomed creatures dashing around 
the country on horseback like Diana fol- 
lowed by all her minions? Are they not 
interested in love? And, if so, why aren't. 
there novels about them?” 

His friend laughed a gelatinous 
laugh, "Turkish delight and replied 
in English in his laziest Noel Coward 
drawl, all the vowels frontal, as if he 
were talking through bubble gum, all 
his Rs either left out where they should 
be, as in deah or cleah, or inserted 
where they should not be, as in India-r 
or Гоша. 

“My deah Ferdy, did not your deah 
fatheh or your deah momma-r eveh tell 
you that all Irish hohsewomen are in 
love with their hohses? And anyway, it 
is well known that the favorite pinup 
gihl of Abland is a gelding.” 

“Naked?” Ferdinand asked coldly, and 
refused to believe him, remembering that 
his beloved had been a hohsewoman and 
satisfied that he was not a gelding. In- 
stead, he approached the Italian ambas- 
sador at a cocktail party, given by the 
Indonesian embassy, to whisper to him 
about l'amore irlandese in his best stage- 
French manner, eyebrows lifted above 
fluttering eyelids, voice as hoarse as, he 
guessed, his ехсеПепсуѕ mind would be 
on its creaking way back to memories of 
Gabin, Jouvet, Brasseur, Fernandel, Mon- 
tand. It proved to be another futile exer- 
cise. His ex groaned as operatically as 
every Italian groans over sudh vital, and 
lethal, matters as the Mafia, food, taxa- 
tion and women, threw up his hands, 
made a face like a more than usually 
desiccated De Sica and sighed, “Les 
femmes dirlande? Mon pauvre gars! 
Elles sont d'une chastet'—he paused and 
roared the adjective" FORMIDABLE!" 

Ferdinand had heard this yarn about 
feminine chastity in other countries 
and (with those two or three excep- 
tions already mentioned) found it true 
only until one had established the pre- 
cise local variation of the meaning of 
chastity. But how was he to discover the 
Irish variation? In the end, it was Celia 
herself who, unwittingly, revealed it to 
him and, in doing so, dispelled his last 

192 doubts about her susceptibility. inflam- 


PLAYBOY 


(continued from page 178) 


mability and volatility—despite the very 
proper sisters of the Spanish Steps. 

The revelation occurred one night in 
early May—her Meehawl being away in 
the west, presumably checking what she 
contemptuously called his Gaclicsqueak- 
ing scissors. Ferdy had driven her back to 
his flat for a nightcap after witnessing the 
prolonged death of Mi La Boheme. 
She happened to quote to him Oscar 
Wilde's remark about the death of Little 
Nell that only a man with a heart of stone 
could fail to laugh at it; and in this vein 
they had continued for a while over the 
rolling brandy, seated side by side on his 
settee, his hand on her bare shoulder lead- 
ing him to hope more and more fondly 
that this might be his horizon night, until, 
suddenly, she asked him a coldly prob: 
ing question. 

“Ferdy! Tell me exactly why we did 
not believe in the reality of Mimi's 
death.” 

His palm oscillated gently between 
her clavicle and her scapula. 

“Because, my little cabbage, we were 
not expected to. Singing away like a 
lark? With her last breath? And no 
lungs? | am a Frenchman. I understand 
the nature of reality and can instruct 
you about it. Art, my dear Cel 
because it is not reality. It does not 
copy or represent nature. It improves 
upon it. It embellishes it. This is the 
kernel of the classical French attitude 
to life. And," he beamed at her, “to 
love. We make of our wildest feelings of 
passion the gentle art of love.” 

He suddenly stopped fondling her 
shoulder and suryeyed her with feelings 
of chagrin and admiration. The sight of 
her belied his words. Apart from dress- 
ing with taste and, he felt certain, un- 
dressing with even greater taste, she 
used no art at all. She was as innocent 
of makeup as a peasant girl of the 
Vosges. Had he completely misread her? 
"Was she that miracle, a fully ripe peach 
brought into the center of the city some 
20 years ago from a walled garden in 
the heart of the country, still warm 
from the sun, still glowing, downy, pris- 
ie, innocent as the dew? He felt her 
juice dribbling down the corner of his 
mouth. Was this the 
her jigsaw? An ensealed innocence? If 
so, he had wasted six whole weeks. This 
siege could last six years. 

“No, Ferdy!” she said crossly. "You 
have it all wrong. Im talking about 
life, not about art. The first and last 
thought of any real Catholic girl on her 
deathbed would be to ask for a priest 
She was facing her God." 

Who at once pointed a finger at him 
through the chandelier? Within seconds 
they were discussing love among the 
English, Irish, French, In Mos- 
lems, Italians, naturally the Papacy, 


Alexander the Sixth and incest, Savo- 
narola and dirty pictures, Joan of Arc 
and martyrdom, death, sin, hell-fire, 
Cesare Borgia, who, she insisted, screamed 
for a priest to pray for him at the end. 

“A lie,” he snarled, "that some beastly 
priest told you in a sermon when you 
were a schoolgirl. Pray? | suppose," he 
challenged furiously, "you pray even 
against me.” 

Abashed, she shook her autumn.gold 
head at him, threw a kipper-eyed glance 
up to the chandelier, gave him a ravish- 
ingly penitential smile and sighed like 
an unmasked sinner. 

“Ah, Ferdy! Ferdy! If you only knew 
the real truth about me! Ме pray 
against you? 1 don't pray at all. You re- 
member Mimi's song at the end of the 
first act? ‘I do not always go to Mass, 
but I pray quite a bit to the good Lord." 
Now, 1 hedge my bets in a very differ- 
ent way. I will not pray, because I re- 
fuse to go on my knees to anybody. Yet, 
there I go meekly trotting off to Mass 
every Sunday and holyday. And why? 
Because I am afraid not to, because it 
would be a mortal sin not to.” She 
gripped his tensed hand, trilling her Rs 
over the threshold of her lower lip and 
tenderly umlauting her vowels. Dürling. 
Coward. Li-cr. "Amn't I thc weak cow: 
ard, diirling? Amn't I the awful li-erz A 
crook entirrrely?” 

‘Only a thin glint of streetlight peep- 
ing between his curtains witnessed the 
wild embrace of a man illuminated by 
an ayowal so patently bogus as to be the 
transparent truth. К 

“You а li Һе gasped, choking 
with laughter. “You a shivering coward? 
A double-faced hedger of bers? A de- 
ceiying crook? A wicked sinner? For 
the last five minutes you have been 
every single ohe of them by pretending 
to be them. What you really are is a 
woman full of cool, hardheaded discre- 
tion, which you would like to sell to me 
as a charming weakness, Full of dreams 
that you would like to disguise as 
wicked lies. Of common sense that it 
suits you to pass off as crookedness. Of 
worldly wisdom still moist from your 
mothers nipple that, if you thou; 
you would get away with the deception, 
you would stoop to call a sin. My dea 
est Celia, your yashmak reveals by pre- 
tending to conceal. Your wick is to be 
perfection masquerading zs villainy. I 
think it is enchanting.” 

For the first time, he saw her in a 
rage. 

“But it is all true. I am a liar. I do go 
to Mass every Sunday. I do not pray. I 
am afraid of damnation. I——" 

He silenced her with three fingers 
laid momentarily on her lips. 

"Of course you go to Mass every 
Sunday. My father, a master tailor of 
Nancy, used to go to Mass every Sunday, 

(continued on page 218) 


ivacy of their 


clse's. 


id no one 


is their business an 


edroom 


“Well, we feel that what three people do in the pr 
own b iness 2 


194 


the ballad of luka the hose 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND. 


There lived, a scanty kilometer 

From Basil’s Dome in Moscow City 
А merchant's lad 
\ peach. but no 


young and pretty, 
ithout а... (pit?) 


tle on the gray side, 
But neither senile nor a runt— 

Had dropped abruptly by the wayside, 
Depleted by her wondrous. .. (cunning?). 


(I cannot help it, gracious reader. 

My song is full of holes like this; 

m пога good conjecture breeder 
Would you supply them, learned miss? 


Most girls become more t 
You will agree, as they grow h 
But for inclusiveness and vigor, 
This gifted lady stood alone. 


sc-prone, 


His pestered pestle pined and pouted, 
It temporized and took no stand, 
She simply would not hear about it 
And bade her mortar to be manr 


His strength, alack, was bound to fail 

From this eternal mortar-minding; 

And he passed on to yonder vale, 

Where they have harps, no organ- 
grinding. 


The widow, though, felt little change 


In fervor figure, 
afield to trigger 
Exploits of targetry and range 


She sampled o z Jolly Rogers, 
Delicious striplings, crisp old codgers; 
She olfered succor, undemanding, 

Го almost anyone upstanding. 


me went on, her zest and whimsy 
rew die muzileloading sport: 
mrods seemed—the one too flimsy, 
The other gnarled, the third too short 


A fourth would be all wilt and flabbage, 
A fifth might come with balls of lead, 
Like small but solid heads of cabbage, 

А real embarrassment in bed. 


Each time, malfunctions to surprise one! 
The widow called, in some chagrin, 
Matrióna Márkovna, u wise one, 

To lay some better ramrods in. 


Beyond Mosk on River Meadow, 
А snug thi ndowed hut is seen, 
In which, а nd carefree widow, 


Lived the Matriona whom I mean. 


-w 


In circles of the merchant class, 

No matter what the dan or locus, 
Matriéna Markovna would pass 

For quite the best of marriage brokers. 


An Imitation of The Ballad of Luká Mudishchev, by Ivan Barkov, 1732-1768, 


This vestal priestess, stout and steady, 
Of confidential years, when ready 
To cast the matrimonial lots, 


Some merchant daugh 
bucksome 

Who lived in discord with her spouse 

She'd help by trysts outside the house 

To prove her mettle, bı 


ifc, the 
sap and well in season— 
found a substitute. 


A wife will seek, when hubby sours, 
A hobby for the winter hours: 
She gets, no need to fret or wheedle, 
V tool that beats the knitting needle. 


And if some customer be nervous, 

He might be fleeced or rolled outside— 
Matrióna offers chamber service 

And everyone is satisfied. 


Then the widow in her anguish, 

‘To summon help, wrote this dispatch: 

“Matriona, how I languish 

Lives there a man who'll fit my . . 
(match?) 


The stout procuress made obeisance 
Before the icon, bowed her head 
In token of advance complaisane 
And, sitting down beside her, said: 


“I gather tricks are going bad 
me maladjustment or shortcoming. 
I will accommodate you gladly; 
Trust me to see that things start 
hummi 


Is it the deadly itche de ditch 
Perhaps in bed you labor vainly? 
Well, I have many tricks to teach." 


"The tricks Гу 
dear— 

The crouch, the bridge, the 

Or swingi 


tried don’t wor! 


my 


agle split, 
£ from a chandeliei 
possible to fit 


“I need a lead-pipe cinch, a clincher, 


t least а twenty-seven-incher; 
For nothing shorter is it worth 
My messing up the lower berth.” 


“Dear lady, have a heart! Good hi 

You don't want much! I beg of you, 

They don't grow wild, those twenty- 
sevens! 

1 might scrape up a twenty-two. 


vens, 


“But wait . . . I do have on con 
A thing to suit you, I suppose; 


It takes the proper 
But looks more like a fire hose. 


“Оп first full view, it struck me dumb. . ~ 
It’s not a thing you'll go to sleep with, 
More apt to count a million sheep with 
And club the Devil, should he come. 


*Still—you are spo 

Lhe, to match you, is the 

What's more, discreet, and knows what's 
cooking: 

Luka Mudishchev is his name.” 


Already sensing, all elation, 

‘That pyrotechnic instrument, 

She hugged the friend whom heaven 1 
sent 


With throbs of w 


rm anticipation. 


a, mother mine, no sl 
Bring your Mudishchey to my arms: 

‘Tell him to get his hydrants working 
And be prepared for five a 


king! 


Premonitory palpitations 

With axle grease and oil of rose 

Helped her prepare with middling 
atience 

For the uncoil 


g of the hose. 


No tools held any terrors for her 

That knew divine and human Laws; 
But this portentous pumpkin corer, 
This humdingdonger, gave her 


Here rang the bell! Her courage 
ustered. 

She calmed herself as best she could. 

Belore her with Matrióna stood 

The record holder! She was flustered. 


He stood in reach, all scrubbed and 
handy: 

In getup something of a dandy, 

Well groomed, closeshave 

nspoiled: 

Not plastered, mind you 


yet 


just well oiled. 


Lest her vicinity might shock 

‘The hosier and her pretty mourner, 
Matrióna slipped into a corner 
And set herself to knit a sock. 


Alone with hi m—what сап arouse us 


id who would mock 


She slid her hand into the pocket 
Of his still-lormant nankcen trousers. 


Her touch, however, made them hectic: 
The contents, instantly up tight, 
Surged swollen, purple, apoplectic 
Upon her wonderstricken sight. 


St. Petersburg 


Ribald Classic 


“О most exalted land-and sea cock!” 
She cried; and, shedding gown and lace, 
She spread her fantail like a peacock 
And drew him into her embrace. 


As if a wagon shaft had goosed her 
nd pa 
The gleaming nozzle bruised and sluiced 


iny 


pales, she yellows. 
She jerks the inllammation's source; 
Luka pants 1 icksmith’s bellows 
And fights the fire with all his force. . . 


Matrióna in her corner, reeling, 

Dropped seven stitches and a shoe 
“Mismatched, outclassed! 
with feeling. 

“He must have hosed the girl in two! 


Still with her sock and knitting needles, 
She scurried headlong to the site, 

To cap the well, call in the beadles, 

Or tender any help she might 


Luka, triumphantly uncoiled, 
guishing his victim; 
The widow, up a tree and foiled, 


Had never slowed the hose or nicked hi 


ig needles rampant stabbed 


yin the hose, now in the pouch. 


‘ed: before she thought to 

ck rack, 

He drew on her with yards of lead. 

And with that fearsome instant blackjack, 
Belabored her about the head. 


Matriona howled with lungs of leather, 
But gamely clawed upon the couch, 
Drew her remaining strength together 
And forcibly deballed his pouch. 


Mudishchev, with a dreadful ery, 
Donged her to death just li 
Then fell himself, a lifeless corse 
Killed by bere 


And thus that triple horror came to pass: 

There lay, flat as a pancake, poor 
Matrióna; 

The widow, all unstitched from bush to 

iss E 

Luká, a husk, at peace but not with. 
honor; 

And in his hose cleven spits of brass. . . - 


—Retold by Walter Arndt У | 


PLAYBOY 


HUMBOLDTS GET кшен ee 


stupid, even for me. But now he thr 
ens me in the night and I think I'd better 
this gangster.” 

“No pay!” shouted George. “Phe Can- 
tabiles got thrown out of the rackets i 
the Thirties, He's just a bigmouthed kid 

i ro mustache. He's seen The 
Godfather or something. Forget it!” And 
so I had submitted to George's judgment. 


Something had to be done about my 
Mercedes. 1 fetched the doorman, Ro- 
land. inny, clderly, unshaven 
The slack clectricblue uni- 
at he shared with the other doo 

gs about him. We had y 
had an agreeable kidding relationship. 
Both of us believed in cheerful greetings. 
He had already seen this disaster. He 
hadn't rung my bell but had let me dis- 
cover the ruined car for myself. Tenants 
their way to work had seen it. 100. 
They knew, of course, to whom it be- 
longed. Roland said, “This is a real bitch, 
Mist Citrine.” He wears thick glasses, 
and when I approach him, he often gi 
a snort of laughter. He thinks me an old 
гоц, because women so often drive up, 
buzz me on the house phone, make in 
quiries leave notes for me. “Somebody 
really has it in for you to mess up this 
beautiful car. I didn't come on till seven 
o'clock. 

One or two people couldn't 
done this," I said. "It must have been a 
whole gang, with clubs, bats, hammer: 
monkey wrenches, out and 
clobbering. Like a speeded-up anvil cho- 
rus. They could have done the job i 
ninety scconds. A terrific racket, but short 
enough so that people would ман up 
from sleep and then turn over. They'd 
just as lief not look, anyway. N. 
wants trouble. If E hear shots at n. 
always say it's backfire from а саг. 
Roland's face was strongly puckered 
bout the mouth. His glance hinted that 
1 vengeful husband had done this to me. 

“Flag those useless fellows in the squad 
car when they pass, will you, Roland, 
please? Have them take a look and ring 
my bell. They'll probably give me a park- 
ing ticket... ." I tipped Roland a dol- 
lar. To bind his good will, after such 
malevolence. 

When 1 entered my apartme 
phone was ringing. It was Can 
“Have you seen your car, smartass?” he 
sked. “What you finally forced me to 
Чо?" 

Senseless!” I said. “N ndalism!" 

“You drove me to it.” He accused me 
loudly, but his voice shook. 

 madc you hammer my саг?" 

“Ten times you were warned. I 
emotions, too. You wouldn't believe how 
1 feel this minute,” I tried to speak, but 
he shouted me down. “Last night was 
step one. Now if you don't. next is 


swarmi 


196 you know what.” 


“No, no, let's stop all th 
to settle." 

"No settle. Pay. You 
good. The full amount. And cash 
not fucking around any Г c: 
later. We'll make a date.” 
“When?” 

“Never mind when. You stick by the 


Im 
П you 


phone till I call." 
Next instant 1 heard 


dial tone—that 
ло. Desperate 
fo tell someone, to consult, I dialed 
George Swiebel. Sharon, his scerctary, 
out on a job. He's in the con- 
struction business. 

Now. what was I to do to compose my 
self? To regain calm, I did the one yoga 
thing I know. I removed. my shoes and 
took everything out of my pockets. Then 
1 stood on my head. 

My loveliest of machines had been de 
stroyed in the street, its silver skin pitted, 
its headlights crushed, its doors unopen- 
able. The Mercedes shop steward would 
tell me in his German accent that all 
parts had to be imported from Europe. 

And I, clutching my bald head in both 
hands, fingers interlocked in a gesture of 
r, legs in the air, tufts of side hair 
out, the green Persian carpet 
under me. 1 was heartinjured 
that material possessions could mean so 
much 

I would never—repeat, never! 
penny from the insurance com] 
such a queer claim. They 
small print and a thousand ways to wea- 
sel out. American corporations were boss 
before, but in the Nixon Administration 
they were drunk with immunity. The 
good old bourgeois decencies, even as 
window dressing, were gone- 

It was from George Swiebel that I 


actly a ph 
voted to th 
him for health advice. George has his own 
system and, as a rule, he cures himself. 

So, when 1 told him about my arthritic 
neck, he prescribed standing on my head. 
Though I threw up my palms and 
shrieked with laughter at this recommen- 
dation (looking like one of Goya's frog 
caricatures—a visión. burlesca—the. one 
with the huge padlock on his parts), I 
cticed against the wall, I learned the 
trick and T was cured of my neck pains. 
Next, when I had a swicture, E asked 
3eorge what to do. He said, “It’s our age. 
It’s the prostate gland. It’s happened to 
me, too—you start, then you stop, then 
you trickle again? And it burns a bit? 
‘And you feel humiliated? 

“All correct." 

“The remedy is, as you stand on your 
head, to tighten your buttocks. Just suck 
in the buttocks, as if you were trying to 
bring the cheeks together.” 


Now standing on my head actually re- 
lieved me. 1 breathed again. But J saw 
І was upside down, two luge cir- 
cles in front of me, very bright. These 
occasionally appeared during this cxer- 
cise. I figured they were produced by 
pressure on the cornea. Such, at least, 
my explanation. The weight on my skull 
buckled the cornea and produced an 
sion of big diaphanous rings, like seci 
eternity. Which, believe me, I was entire- 
ly ready for. I had a view of the bookcase 
behind me, and when my head w 
readjusted with more weight shifted to 
my forearms, the beautiful rings swam 
ay, ideas of mortality vanished with 
them, and in reverse Î saw rows and rows 
of my own books, some hack work, some 
sincere, biographies in many language 
а few copies of my big failure, The Sense 
of Being in Americans, and many editions 
of my play Von Trenck. The fortune I 
was alleged by Humboldt to have made 
was earned mainly by Trenck. I didn't 
add the money up while it was coming in 

I was more moved to do the addition 
when it was ebbing. For me it had been 
а gled the job, 
despite my keen interest (which I had 
bied to dissemble, concealing it even 
from myself, wanting terribly to be high- 
minded). Immediately, the dough came 
between Humboldt and me. He claimed 
that I owed him a large amount, and he 
put through a check for 3000 bucks. The 
bank paid and 1 didn’t contest the m 
ter, although I owed him nothing. He 
was very litigious, Humboldt was. 
Moreover, I was crippled by guilt. T 
sn't absolutely sure that I had done 
right by Humboldt, and I had а feeling 
that my gains were ill-gotten. The play 
that brought me such wealth was not the 
play 1 had written. I had only provided a 
bolt of material from which the director 
, shaped, basted and sewn his own 
Trenck. Broadway, after all, does adj 
the Garment District. 

The cops leaned long and violently on 
my bell. I let them in and they began to 
write up their report. These heavy men 
were amused by this unusual case—a 
Mercedes crushed in the street. They en- 
tered smelling rather stale. Sitting in a 
squad cur seemed to give them an assy 
sort of odor. Their hardware clinked and 
their wide hips were bulky with blanks. 
“Somebody re 
huge black cop said. He was hinting 
t underworld complications. Perhaps I 
owed money to a juice man. Possibly I 


wher 


le 
wasn't going to name 
“I don't know 
lieve the police approved of my reserve. 
never saw such а car massacre,” said 
the first cop. "It's a 
His buddy said, “Jesus, if I didn't have 
a garage 1 wouldn't own but a piece of 
(continued on page 250) 


/ M Q 

Asie ten 

pu Gti f 
We 


e deal 


If you liked Summer of ^42, 
you'll love Summer of ’53. 


It opens with nattily at- What might have been: The embryo publication came 
tired Hugh Hefner banging within а hare's breadth of being named Stag Party. 
away ata battered type- Illustration for the first issue had to be 


changed from stag to rabbit at the last minute. 


of his apartment on Chica- 
go's South Side. He single- 
handedly produced almost 
all the copy for a then. 
untitled new magazine 
designed to attract “the 
ated urban male.” 


Unselfishly dedicated 

to his duties, 

We didn't know y PLAYBOY'S Art 

it then, but the. Di rectors Arthur Paul, 

lady who appeared makes sure Terry Ryan 
у in our first puts her best foot 


forward in a Playmate 
shooting for the 
December 1954 issue. 


subscription ad 
gave us a sneak 
preview of the 
Playboy Club 
Bunny. - 


You'll notice that the cover of our 
first issue—December 1953—carrted 
$ no date. We didn’t know if there 
would be a second issue- 


An editor's work is never done 
—especially if he's the only 
editor: Swigging one of 
countless Pepsis con- 
sumed in the course of 
a night's work, pajama- 
clad Hefner reads а 

manuscript in the 
i bedroom of the 
first PLAYBOY 


FAHRENHEIT 45] _ —7 e 2 E office early 


SML 401954. 


to be serialized, in spring of 1954— 
was Ray Bradbury's prophetic novel Fahrenheit 451. 


“Help!” trumpeted the copy on the 
first cover of Trump (midwifed by 
Mad's Harvey Kurtzman), our 1957 
entry into the humor-magazine 
field. We needed it. Trump's sun 
sank quickly—and permanently— 
into the west after the second issue. 


"RUM 


) Walter S. Tevis” The Hustler and 
George Langelaan's The Fly were the first 
$ PLAYBOY originals to hit the 
screen. The Fly's artwork was 
strikingly unorthodox: a blank page 
E x with a tiny fly in the corner. 
P Actress Vikki Dougan's gown, revealing 
a new cleavage, was immortalized in. 
| т\лүвоү via The Back, June 1957. 


d 


PLAYBOY'S most prolific writer, the late Ken W. Purdy, made the first of 75 
contributions with The Compleat Sports Car Stable in our Apri 


When Elizabeth Ann Roberts, Miss 
January 1958, was found to be 
underage, Heiner considered 
pointing out publicly that 
September Morn's model was а 
nymphet, too. He didn't have to; 
court action was dismissed. 


Gahan Wilson's bizarre creations 
have been haunting PLAYBOY pages ever 
since this creepy character 
swept into our hearts in March 1958. 


After “The Back" came “The Bosom,” June 
Wilkinson, seen here in one of the pictures 
(taken in Hefner's office bedroom) that 

we shot for a 1958 pictorial. For obvious reasons, 
Ош nickname for the British beauty stuck—in 
Hollywood and in later PLAYBOY features. 


First of more than 
150 such lovelies to 
grace our pages: the 
inimitable Vargas 
Girl, September 1960. 


If she'd been a Bunny, 
she wouldn't have needed 
a tray. June Wilkinson 
clowned on the set of our 
1959-1960 TV series, 
Playboy's Penthouse. 


Teevee Jeebics, 
Shel Silversteii Á X 
wacky brain child, s ; Charlie was still ostracized 
debuted for Late in the U.S. when the late 
Show fans in 1959. EFA L Charles Beaumont profiled him 
" in Chaplin (March 1960), mem- 
orably illustrated by Arthur Paul. 


"Damn it, 1 said three by 
five feet, not inches!” 
Playboy Promotion Di: 
rector Victor Lownes Ill 
had problems with the 
flags ordered for the 
1959 Playboy Jazz Festi- 
val, which wasa hit 
anyway. 


We thought The Nude Look's The ubiquitous. 
styles (July 1960) were a far-out . Janet Pilgrim 
satire. History proved us wrong. strikes again— 
in the PLAYBOY 

bowling league. 


IF YOU DON'T SWING, DON'T 
+ RING, translates the Latin 
doorplate on Chicago's 
Playboy Mansion; Hefner 
moved in in 1960. 


Edited for TV: Fur trim modified the | Ac S. 
prototype Bunny Costume of receptionist S і о сі 
{later Assistant Cartoon Editor) s А " 
Cynthia Maddox on Playboy's Penthouse. i oli iniia 


19€I-19€62 


Playboy's Pigskin Preview in 1961 
featured Harvard's band ina 
Rabbit-head formation. 


Most memorable shot from 
Playmate Holiday House Party, 
December 1961: Christa. 
Speck takes a flier. 


Ingenious readers found 

that covering the top half of 
‘our June 1962 cover provided 
a bit of titillation we 

hadn't intended. 


Requiescat in pace: 
Show Business Illustrated, 
born September 1961, 
died April 1962. 


The debut of Eldon Dedini's 
salirical satyrs was a highlight. 
of cur March 1961 issue. 


"First of all, you must learn. 
10 be preocctipied with sex!” 


Itstarted in December 1962; we 
thought it would appear in one, 
maybe two issues. But before 
Hugh Hefner ran out of 
typewriter ribbon, The Playboy 
Philosophy had run 25 

install ments—and kicked off 

an era of social consciousness 
in the magazine. 


October 1962 introduced 

a popular new heroine; 
Little Annie Fanny, created 
by Mad's madcaps Harvey 
Kurtzman and Will Elder. 


How to Talk Dirty. 

and Influence 

People, autobiog- 

raphy of the 

Sixties! quin- 3 

essential tragi- To herald James Bond's novelistic debut in 

comic figure, ‘our pages—at the height of the 007 craze— 

Lenny Bruce, wes Robert Weaver created this illustration, which 

published first won a New York Art Directors Club awar What sort of man 

in PLAYBOY. reads PLAYBOY? Its. 

appeal, obviously, is. 

universal, Check 

this well-undressed 

Australian aborigine. 


For reasons that remain 
abundantly unclear, shots 
of Jayne Mansfield in 
the film Promises, Promises | f 
got Hefner busted in 1963 dd » \ 
рН ; | ” Artists have depicted 
hung jury couldn't figure E i | Hefner in many 
it out either; the case н 1 vays- notall 
was eventually dismissed. y 3 complimentary—but 
| E : Ў? | Jack Davis, from whom 
he bought 15 
cartoons, saw 
himasa 
skinny Santa. 


Silverstein’s History of 
Playboy, which began in 
January 1964 and ran for 
thee issues, offered this 
predictably irreverent 
view of our beginnings. 


ea 

Tor thirty-five у 

‘the public don't want another 

sapazine If they want news. 

they got Tibe and Nersreok 1. One of our most 

wy want stories. they ] 

got The Saturday Evening Post popular Playmates, 
December 1963's 
Donna Michelle, 

got herself into 
Tn. 4 Rabbit shape for 

they want sophistication, Р Мау 19645 cover. 

there's The Мет Yorker. 

they want adventure, 

(here's True and Argosy... 

ч 1 geography. 

there's ihe National Geo 

Look al tne knockers 
on that bip blonde 
crossing the street rti" 


Using 2 false name, 
she applied for a job 
at The Playboy Club. 
Before her "exposé," 

А Bunny's Tale, was 
serialized in Show, 
few had ever heard. 
of a Phi Beta Kappa 
from Smith named. 
Gloria Steinem. 


This chaste kiss, magnified to screen 19630-1966 


proportions in the nickelodeons of 1896, 
scandalized Victorian audiences, 

critics Arthur Knight and 
Hollis Alpert reported in 
the opening History 
of Sex in Cinema, 
April '65. 


The Playboy Bed, which also appeared in April 1965, 
was our readers’ first glimpse into our 
editor-publisher's luxurious life style. 


Woody Allen's first 
personal appearance 
in films—and in 
PLAYBOY—in What's 
New, Pussycat?— 
was in 1965; Paula 
Prentiss, he sai: 
made him a “passion: 
ridden, snarling maniac.” 


She Is Ursula 
Andress, а 
12-page 
photo feature 
by her then 
husband, John 
Derek, seta 
record as 
the longest 
PLAYBOY 
pictorial ever 
devoted to ANAT 
‘one female. ۳ UML "rm e 
It made her ¢ р 3 Among the satiric cartoon 
a star. = strips drawn for PLAYBOY by the 
gifted Jules Feiffer was his four- 
part opus Hostileman, Jules also 
mixed his media as author of 
fiction (Harry the Rat with Women, 


Just as it in PLAYBOY) and films (Little 
has spawned Murders, Carnal Knowledge). 
imitators, 

PLAYBOY'S 

been parodied it used to be called the 

more often Palmolive Building, and its 

than any other beacon lit the way for 

magazine in generations of navigators 

the world. Two оп Lake Michigan. In 1966, when 

of the best Playboy headquarters moved 

from the Sixties: West in, the 37-story edifice 

Point's Prayboy and, at 919 North Michigan Avenue. 

from the Stanford in Chicago became the 

Chaparral, Layboy. Playboy Building—and its 


guiding light was tagged, 
inevitably, The Bunny Beacon 


Buck Brown's Granny, America's 
favorite dirty old lady, got on 
the right track in August 1966. 


Writer Alex Haley, in arranging to interview 
‘American Nazi Party head George 
Lincoln Rockwell, assured the Fuhrer he 
wasn't Jewish, He didn't mention being 
black. Result: a chaperoned conversation. 


Hefner, the “theologian” of The 
Playboy Philosophy, earned a 
clerical collar foran illustration 
in a Look special issue on 

the American male. 


“Honest, lady, we didn't come 
to rape or molest notiody—. 
just to rob the damn train . 


Time, in its March 3, 1967, issue, did 
a PLAYBOY cover story that, a magazine 

| spokesman told Hefner, drew more mail 
than any such feature in its history. 


FRI, ale 
Our December 1964 5 
gatefold girl—Jo Collins— Alter being named 1965's 
inspired sculptor Larry Playmate of the Year, “СІ Jo” 


Collins visited the front. So 

popular was the magazine, wrote 
correspondent Ward Justin the 

April 27, 1967, Washington Post, that 
“if World War Two was the war of 
Stars and Stripes and Betty Grable, 

the war in Vietnam is PLAYBOY's war 
and the centerfold Playmate is every- 
body's girlfriend, mistress or wif 
Grunt with backpack obviously agreed. 


Rivers to create this 
Plexiglas dream girl for 
The Playmate as Fine 
Art (January 1967). The 
work was selected 
for PLAYBOY's world- 
touring exhibit 
Beyond Illustration, 


A take-off on familiar 
advertising clichés, 
Mad Ave Unclad, which 
brightened our pages 

in November 1968, 
typifies the irreverent 
approach we've always 
taken toward 

the media— 

including ourself 


Somehow Ruth Buzzi doesn't 
seem Hefner's type, but 

the two of them made 
beautiful comedy together on 
31968 episode of Laugh-In. 


Wanda Hickey's 
Night of Golden 
Memories (June 
1969) won an 
unprecedented 
fourth PLAYBOY 
Writing Award 
for humorist 
Jean Shepherd. 


Back in August 1969, with Lawrence Schiller's exclusive pictorial of 
actress Paula Kelly, we unobtrusively pioneered in the tasteful display 
of what had hitherto been a major-magazine taboo: pubic hair. 


The irony of itall: After Grin- 
nell College students were ar- 


rested for staging a strip-in Barbi Doll and friend. 
protesting a talk by a Playboy Miss Benton hugs the foam- 
representative (which made head- rubber replica of her boy- 
lines throughout the world, viz., friend that was used as a 
Japan's Yomiuri Shimbun above), playful prop on our second 
the Playboy Foundation was asked television series, Playboy 
for—and gave—defense funds. Alter Dark, where she met 


Hefner in 1968. 


statement, A Testament of 
Hope (January 1969), Dr. 
Martin Luther King predict- 
ed ultimate victory for 
"the poor and despised.” 
Dr. King’s contribution, 
illustrated by Shelly 
Canton, won that year's 
Best Essay Award, 


Our leader is 
pictured with a lot 
on his mind in July 
1970's Audience 
magazine. 


She's “the perfect wife—inex- 
pensive to dress," wrote Joe 
Hyams of his wife, Elke Sommer, 
apropos this exclusive photo. 


You'd think he was slicing into 
the real thing: As Barbi looks 
on, Hefner cuts up with an edible 
model of his multimillion- 
dollar jet, The Big Bunny, on 
an episode of his Playboy 
After Dark TV series. 


Dragging their tails behind them: not Bo-Peep's lost 
sheep but Miami Beach Bunnies, waterlogged while 
posing for photos of the Playboy Plaza in 1970. 


The most popular feature we've ever run was, 
surprisingly, about a $14,000 home, September 
1970's Portable Playhouse. Letters are still 
coming in; at last count, they totaled 7763. 


Everybody into the pool: Civil libertarians 
all, the Chicago cast of Hair buffed it in 

the wee hours ata Playboy Mansion benefit 
for the ACLU. in December 1969. 


Shares in Playboy 
Enterprises, Inc., 
went on sale in 
November 1971. 
Some investors 
may have bought 
certificates for 
their visual 
appeal alone. 


1 
2 #— | 
1 
E A 
d ASA 
1n 1971, Hefner moved into 
the Playboy Mansion West— 


and stocked the 52-acre 
estate with friendly pets. 


Describing his choice for Personal 
Visions of the Erotic (December 1971), 
Pete Turner admitted his compelling 
photo of “a woman pulling another 
woman's nipple affects some 


We've received so many requests for reproductions 
Of PLAYBOY artwork—such as Fred Berger's 

laughing Jesus, which illustrated critic- 
turned-contributor Harvey Cox's January 1970 
essay, For Christ's Sake!—that we added 

in 1971 to the hundreds of Playboy Products now 
on the market a unique line of posters. 


During the Playboy Writers’ Convocation 
in 1971, Hefner and table companions 
break up at the hilarious introduction by 
Art Buchwald (oficamera) of speaker John 
Kenneth Galbraith (second from left). 


So what if Burt Reynolds bared (nearly) all in the April 1972 

Cosmo? PLAYBOY beat him to the Punch. The British 

humor magazine devoted an earlier issuetoa y 
PLAYBOY parody with Hefner as the centerfold. g 


viewers emotionally.” 


Roman Polanski, director of Playboy's 
first film, Macbeth, took this photo 
of one of the movie's naked 

witches and sent it to Hefner. 

for consideration as a centerfold. 


Line forms to the right for jobs in 

the PLAYBOY photo studio: Here's how 
the illustration for Dan Greenburg's 
first-person saga My First Orgy. 
(December 1972) was staged. 


Porn queen Linda Lovelace, head artist 
of Deep Throat, opened up verbally for 
PLAYBOY, first in a pictorial profile, 
then in a panel on sexual life styles. 


Pad ЭЩ 
for Playboy's second theatrical film, The Naked 
Ape, artists created a series of lifelike 
effigies representing Homo sapiens’ evolution 
from the simian to contemporary man—embadied 
here, though not onscreen, by a familiar figure. 


Readers are saying oui to 
‘our new offspring: the 
overnight success OUI. 
which sold out with its 

first issue in October 1972, 
and the foreign-language 
editions of PLAYBOY, which 
got going in Germany and 
Italy in August and 
November of 1972 and in 
France in November of 1973. 


Everybody who's anybody comes 
to The Playboy Club. Well, nearly 
everybody. The guy with the 
Chicago Bumper-Poo! Bunny is 
impersonator Richard M. Dixon. 


The cover of this, our Twentieth | 
Anniversary Issue, is devoted, 
appropriately enough, to the 
Playboy Rabbit—created. he says, 
"їп half an hour" by Arthur Paul. 
So closely identified with the 
Playboy empire has it become 
that mail bearing no written ad- 
dress—merely a Rabbit design— 
finds its way to our offices in 
Chicago. After two decades, in 
fact, it may be the world's 
best-known corporate symbol 


But now students turned these wage 
carers into oppressors, berating their 
‘own парреї employees. Economic analy- 
sis was never the kids’ strong point. What 
mattered was to have some kind of history 
as outsiders that would give them a lever- 
age for breaking inside—on terms, of 
course, nonnegotiable terms. And, after 
all, the professors dressed like factory 
owners, in suits and ties, while students 
wore drab prole dungarees. The Sixties 
campus imposed factory clothes on young 
men and women at their most peacock- 
ing time of life. When the kids stumbled 
across a real proletariat, they were quick 
to pigify it, turning Chicago's cops into 
members of a ruling class. Max Yasgur, 


PLAYBOY 


on the other hand. was symbolically 
blessed at Woodstock, since he was a 
farmer (Le., а large agricultural busine 


man), glowing in the kids’ minds like 
some new socialrealist poster of The 
Man with a Hoe. 

These maneuvers had а less compel- 
ling quality than those of the blacks, 
since the students’ experience of repres- 
sion was more psychological than eco- 
nomic, the unintended result of affluence, 
not a deliberate imposition of poverty 
But psychological affronts are real, and 
can be crippling. What was interesting 
was the sense of departure (“We are leav- 
ing; you don't need us") and wandering 
("We've all gone to look for America”) 
and the invasion of what was found at 
ast (“We'll soon shake your windows and 
rattle your walls”). 

The feminist movement also talked in 
Marxist terms of liberation. И even 
picked up the Thirties charge of male 
chauvinism—i.e., treatment of a class as if 
it were a nation; the confusion of tribal 
symbols with economic reality. These 
women needed а new language, reflect. 
ing secret history; and they were uncivil 
on principle. This last note of ferocity 
stunned many sympathetic observers. 
After all, civility was supposed to be an 
invention for protecting women, favoring 
he qualities that go beyond brute 
strength. Indeed, women seemed to be on 
their strongest ground when criticizing 
the macho waits of competitive and 
warring males, the cult of the tough guy. 
Then why come on like so many tough 
gals, using karate and weapons to license 
insults and obscenity? 

For the same reason blacks did not ask 
favors or kids want their allowance 
upped. The old rules can be exploited— 
by ‘Tomming it, or teacherspeting. 
or linlexomaning the husband. ‘That 
would improve the game a bit, as played 
by those old rules. But this just amelio- 
ates the treatment of outsiders; it does 
not bring them inside. Blacks had stayed 
outside the system of dignifying symbols. 
Students were still outside the familial 
nd public worlds of responsibility. 
212 Women were outside the world of the 


COUNTRY THAT WASN'T THERE Eare from page 174) 


They were not taken with full 
seriousness as students or employees, 
much less as professionals or employers. It 
did not make sense to ask for the pale 
recognitions of civility, exacting def- 
erence to womanhood as such, By that 
standard, academic and other work was 
commended as good (for a woman), the 
damning parentheses always half-voiced, 
depriving women of a language that 
would stamp their work as good tout 
court, Thus, the feminist movement 
was obliged to advance by denial of femi- 
ninity—just as the kids had by affront- 
ag academic decorum or the blacks by 
never “knowing their place.” The women 
had to get outside the structure entirely 
to force their way back in. The very fact 
that this confounded those well disposed 
under the old rules showed that the tactic 
was wor meant to shatter 
their framework, disorienting them. 

The sisters had to be wild outsiders ar- 
riving, not “lite women” restive in the 
home. They must be strangers before they 
could again be lovers. They looked on the 
native culture of America like discoverers 
amazed at our odd language, full of gaps 
where female pronouns should be. The 
insistence on terminological nicety sor- 
prised, provoked or struck men as urivial. 
Who cares whether it is chairman or chair- 
But we should not have been 
1 had 


person 
surprised, Blacks 
their own langu nsisted on it. 
In some ways, it was harder for women 
than for blacks or students to demand lib- 
cration, since the ropes that bind them 
seem made of silk and velvet. Women as 
such are not minors in the way thar stu- 
dents were; certainly not deprived in the 
literal manner of blacks. But these very 
advantages lead to irritation. ‘The most 
educated woman is the one trammeled 
subtlest disqualifying bonds—never qui 
man's equal as a student, faculty member, 
professional, colleague, editor or boss. 
Education, which is supposed to be the 
great equalizer in our society. points up. 
the culture's inequalities. That is espe- 
cially true for women, who have been 
educated to а level of expectation, work 
and independence not supplied by the 
culture after they leave school—not, any- 
way, for the normal run of women. (There 
are exceptions, the house woman, like 
the house black—e.g., Midge Decter.) 
Where did the new women come fr 
Not simply out of the kitche 
needed a foreign h 
true immigrants. Their "herstory," truly 
formidable, came from the traces of 
matriarchy, gynecocracy and. Amazon 
hes in myth. This suggests th 
ism, too, is essential to the feminist move- 
ment, like the kids’ cheerful obscenities 
or the blacks’ glowering savagery. All our 
internal immigrants have had to make 
some claim of self-sufficiency in order to 
pose a credible threat. For the blacks, the 


threat was to make cities uninhabitable. 
For the students, to use their interlude 
from real life as a sanctuary for raids upon 
politics and the military. In both cases, 
there was a separate base from which the 
threat was issucd—the ghetto or th 
campus. But woman has been both more 
intimate with her oppressor and more de- 
pendent upon him. Her only base for 
separate action was the kitchen—and the 
bedroom undermined that bastion within 
the home. Women had to declare them- 
selves more subily autonomous, psycho- 
logically independent. Since the basis for 
both dependence and power within the 
old rules was sex, woman's independence 
had to be asserted. sexually. Lesbianism 
asa threat or possibility was therefore al- 
ways implicit in their stand and was re 
forced by their chosen prehistory. 
Lesbianism was not a thing that could. 
be lightly added to the feminists’ pro- 
m, or lightly subtracted from it, as a 
matter of day-to-day tactics. It was а nec- 
essary part of their psychological pa 
age. Unless women can be taken as a 
e tribe, the whole 10; 
tion fails. 
larity of gay liberation to all 
other “lib” movements is obvious. The 
homosexuals have their selective reading 
of history, all of which comes out a story 
of pederastic genius, from Socrates to 
André Gide. There is the same stress on 
language. Some words are out: fag, homo, 
dyke. Orhers are in: gay, homosexual, 
bisexual (the innest word of all). But 
words that are out can be used by people 
who are in: Just as blacks can call them- 
selves bad niggers, so dykes can call one 
another butch. The gays also share with 
other movements an urge to gratuitous 
affront. They will not seule for a 
civillibertarian permissiveness (to "do 
their own thing" undisturbed as long as 
they are inconspicuous). They must e 
tablish a right to do openly what hetero- 
sexuals do (c.g. kiss and hug in public). 
hey will call attention to themselves. 
This shows the difference between be- 
ing gay and being a gay activist, part of 


ll Negroes ai ) The 
old liberals’ best bargain went like this: 
€ won't bother you if we don't know 


who you Kinkiness, like religion, 
should be a private matter, outside the 
public busin ists want to 


be recognized in for 
what they are and accepted into the pub- 
ness (eg. by tax and property 
righis within homosexual marriage). Civil 
liberties are granted to the individual. 
The пу powers come from be- 
“Look how many of us 
аге һе last thing straight so- 
ciety wants to hear. How many canoes 
have the savages got? If they keep coming 

in, we natives will be forced to bargain. 
There is no end to the movement of 
internal immigrants, as we 
(con 


see from 
inued on page 265) 


parody By G. BARRY GOLSON ихти. сехи, psychiatry was the only cure for patients troubled by de- 


pression, efinui, feelings of worthlessness, paranoia, neurotic fears, alienation and, on rare occasions, scurvy. Today, of 
course, the self-awareness industry has expanded considerably, as countless new forms of psychotherapy, encounter 
and quasi-religious sects have sprung up everywhere. Some of these appear to hold promise, but the ity are 
destined to be mere fads. What is worse, a good idea is often corrupted. Before proceeding to describe the Fm OK— 
You're So-So of life, which has been proved 100 percent effective, let us examine a few of these corrupt self-help 
programs that are currently in vogue (and often in Time and Newsweek as well) in order to point out their drawbacks: 
* Transatlantic Meditation. The original version was popularized by an Indian mystic and self-made millionaire, 
the Maharishi Hershic. (Observers of the youth scene will recall that this was the path of (continued оп page 284) 


how to achieve 
self-fulfillment through 
mental discipline, 
positive thinking and a 
Jim belief in other 
people's mediocrity 


ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN P. SCHMELZER, 


round the world, Some say that he, and 
others like him, mobilized the nation’s 
conscience and ultimately closed down 
the war. 1 don't disagree. The girl is a 
Gestalt psychologist. She introduces her- 
self and says she is insecure in. Haiti. “My 
usually precedes me." It's 
t Wilbur Wood special, but I 
don't swing. She is likable and I have 
towering respect for the radical. The 
beard is gone, but the eyes remain wild, 
messianic. I don't like the way he swims. 
He seems to be restless, shifting around 
for a new and exciting position. He is a 
bit like a rock s 
have scattered, whose fame has slipped 
away. He says he is going down to the 
palace and knock on the gate and ask to 
sec young Duvalicr. I respectfully suggest 
that he not do that. "They don't know 
about guerrilla theater here. They don't 
know about put-ons." 

We shift to Watergate. “The people 
who hate Nixon are really having a ficld 
day," he says. Is that the way he’s going 
to po? He's going to start loving Nixon? 
I pick that one right off, It won't work. 
Tt won't send his voice booming round 
the world a second time. He needs some- 
thing else. 


PLAYBOY 


Enter the Greek. Chiseled face, mag- 
nificent beard, eyes blazing with Fi 
dom, Liberty, Conscience. He's a walking 
coin. 1 find out quickly that much of this 
Freedom to push his own welfare, 
taking Liberties with other men's wives. 
"The Greek says he is an artist. a citizen of 
the world. He tells me he once had a lit- 
tle trouble in Spain. At а bar. he was 
overheard shouting that he would like to 
shit in Franco's mouth. They threw him 
out. T can see he's in the wrong cou 


chuckles and says that in Haiti, the cur- 
rent technique is to put you in jail and 
nge your name and then forget about 
vou. You have never existed. Г can sce 
that the Greek is going to be a great 
deal of trouble. I turn out to be right. 
That night, the radical and the Gestalt 
psychologist run into the hotel, excited 
They report that а sea of Haitians has 
just converged on a woman who beat up 
her baby and now wants to eat it. Is the 
crowd going to eat her before she eats the 
by? No one is sure. I have dinner with 
the radical and his girlfriend. I tell them 
I'd like to read a piece telling what hap- 
pened to the Sixties radicals. What hap- 
pened to the movement. My new friend 
says terrific, he'll write it. I tell him that's 
not the one I want to read. It would have 
10 be wriuen by an outsider. Someone 
lı cold eyes. The m: pi- 
geon. The radical feels there is some- 
2M thing wrong with eating a bird like that. 


HAITI, COODBYE (continued from page 172) 


A peaceful bird like a pigeon. “It doesn’t 
want to be eaten.” But while he is saying 
that, he is eating the pigeon. I don't think 
he ought to be doing that. What you 
do, I think, if you don't want to eat the 
pigcon is send it back and order a cheese- 
burger. Or you eat the pigeon 
quiet. You don't say the pigeon 
want to be eaten while you're ca 
come to an easy and cozy conclu: 


I don't like myself for it, but Tam stuck 


with it: That's what happened to the 
movement. Some of the guys ate the 
pigeon. 

Later, the radical rips off a New York 
Times {rom the casino and gives it to me. 
и a lovely thing for him to do—the 
paper is virtually impossible to find on 
the island—and even though it isn't 
much to him, he knows how important 
the “print media” is to me. I'm even sor- 
rier about the pigeon hypothesis, but I 
believe it and 1 can't drop it. 


I gamble for a while alongside some 
Syrians, 1 have a naive belief thar people 
gamble according to their national styles. 
The Syrians are supercautious at the 
blackjack table. A Syrian has a 19, sees 
the dealer’s picture staring him in the 
face, he doesn't draw. He holds on to 
ас he's got, afraid of what may be up. 
ahead. This style forces me to be a little 
more reckless than I am normally. I pull 
to 16s, start pulling to soft 17s. Under 
his breath, one Syrian mumbles, each 
time I draw, “Ouvert, ouvert.” The cock- 
sucker is rooting for me to go bust. Th 
makes me even more reckless. 1 feel like 
g to 18s and 195. Maybe that’s the 
yrian business style. Get you infuriated 
so that you move away from your normal 
pattern. You break your neck and the 
Syrian is there to pick up the pieces. 
back to the hotel, at four in 
. D see thickets of people 
ame under a sour light. 
"The driver says they are “the ones who 
never sleep.” T tell him they must sleep 
sometime. Never, he says. Then the 
must die young. No, he says, they never 
sleep and they die in their 80s and 90s- 
The owner of the hotel and his wile ar- 
rive from Key West. I've always wondered 
how an American could stay in this coun- 
try for long periods of time. The owners 
miss Chinese food and that is one reason 
they travel to the mainland. I watch the 
hotel owner in action. He has a gruff, 
cigarsmoking Vegas style and his work 
involves dealing with an endless proces- 
sion of Haitian officials, high and low 
who appear before him with their 
hands out. Each time this happens, the 
hotel owner looks startled, outraged, 
and shouts, "Pourquoi" He fixes cach 


solicitor with a long, menacing stare, but 
no one gets stared down, No one goes 


in extended. He 


away and the hands rem: 
reaches into a ci 
menace, hands over a Haitian bill, as if 
to say, "Don't try that again.” But they 
do try it again. All he has done is slow 
down the process a bit. The bills are 
of meager denomination, but they must 
add up. That's his work. Handouts all 
day Jong and Lord Snowden in the eve- 
ning. He can't possibly be in this for 
the money. 


I am told of a towering gangland fig- 
ure who came through with two bod: 
guards. It upset him that there was no 
air conditioner in his room. The hotel 
owner said he knew of a fine hotel down 
the road where the visitors could have 
three clean suites, each with its own 
conditioner, spanking new. He started to 


make а call and the racket leader said, 
“We stay here.” For a week, through rec- 
ord breaking heat, the bodyguards never 


removed their jackets. After several days, 
the head man said his men would pre- 
pare a spaghetti dinner for the guests, 
who were to assemble at the pool at si 
o'clock, two hours before the regular di 
ner hour. The owner had to roam the 
island, hunting down spaghetti-s: 


i 
gredients. None of the guests assembled 
at the appointed hour and the sauce did 
not work out. Toward the end of his stay, 
the gangster put an arm around the hotel 
owner and said, "I have a plan to take 
all the goat's milk in Haiti and ship it to 
the States to make mozzarella cheese. We 
will be partners." "The owner wondered. 
about the starving Haitian children, who 
need this milk. "You don’t understand 
the racket man said. "I have a plan in 
which we take all this goat's milk and 
what we do is ship it to the States to 
make mozzarella cheese. You and 1 will 
be mers.’ 
ow 1 understand, 


said the owner. 


“Bitch 
Pig" 

“Chauvinist dud 

The world's most complicated fag 
comes running down to the pool. He has 
long flowing hair and a С 
tache and goatee. He is а grap 
Maoist-liberated-activist- d fag 
who makes a living in show business. It’s 
difficult to know where to start with him. 
He has just had a big fight with his room- 
mite. He feels they have no business liv- 
ing in such luxury and. wants them to 
stay in a thatched hut with underprivi- 
Ieged Haitians. The roommate appears. 
He isa media man who loves the sun. He 
has dyed black hair, heavily barbered. No 
way you're going to get this fellow into 
thatched hut. The complicated fellow 
is in a constant state of pique, but I 


(continued on page 226) 


“The magic has gone out of his carpet, too.” 


215 


216 


Best Major Work 


S3 


Best Essoy 


announcing the prize-winning authors and their 
contributions judged by our editors to be the past years most outstanding 


PLAYBOYS ANNUAL 
WRITING AWARDS sS 


GEORGE MACDONALD FRASER, British- 
born creator of the inimitable Harry Flash 
man, captures first place with another of his 
anthcros adventures in Flashman at the 
Charge (April-June), later published in book 
form by Alfred A. Knopf. Ex—Assistant U.S. 
Attorney for Massachusetts George V. Hig- 
gins is runner-up with The Diggers Game 
(January-March), also published by Knopf. 


Is a Four-Letter Word (January), arguing 
that all sexual exploitation is actually а form 
of rape, Author-critic Alfred Kazin’s The 
Writer as Political Crazy (Jum 

ion of the erratic political predilections of 
writers such as Ezra Pound, is runner-up. 


Best Short Story 


Best Article 


#1 


ANTHONY AUSTIN, who took part in the 
in Shanghai during World 
War Two, wins first prize for his fictional ac- 
count of that event in When the Americans 
Came (October). Gore Vidal's gripping Burr: 
Portrait of « Dangerous Man (October), 
which became part of his new historical 
novel, Burr, published in November by Ran- 
dom House, is 2 very close runner-up. 


JOHN CLELLON HOLMES, а winner in 
1964 and 1971, takes first prize aj 
Gone in October (February), a somber recol- 
lection of the funeral and last lonely years of 
his friend Jack Kerouac. Second prize gocs 
to The Day Bobby Blew It (july), Brad 
Darrach's vivid account of the maddening 
down-to-the-wire efforts to get the irascible 
Bobby Fischer on that planc to Iceland. 


IT’S TIME ONI 


E AGAIN, friends, for us here at PLAYBOY to retire to our hallowed chambers and choose this year's award 
winners. Don't think it's a picnic. Since your basic magazine editor is at best a bit flaky, the task of coming up with 


а list of nominces, let alone winn 


s, is a yearly trauma. What one of us thinks is a classic collection of bons mots 


usually doesn’t quite cut the mayonnaise for another. But that’s Ше, right? Being amiable fellows at heart, we've devised 


a civilized method for deciding these matters—fisticuffs. So what you see on these two pages, after weeks of voting, 


soul-searching and arm wrestling, is what we, by some miracle, have finally agiced upon as the best material to have 
appeared in the magazine this past year. Winners in each category get a grand, runners-up a half, and both get hand- 


some silver medallions like the one on the left. Losers get a hearty—but, regrettably, nonnegotiable—handshake. 


Best New Contributor (Fiction) 


NADINE CORDIMER, whose short stoi 
The Conservationist. (Maid 

ofa South African farmer's indifference upon 
finding а corpse on his property, gets the blue 
ribbon, Also new to our pages is Tom Griffin, 
ex-copy writer / actor | playwright / theater- 
company manager. His Flies, Snakes, Fat 
Benny (August)—introducing Benny, a slob 
with a wandering spousc—is runner-up. 


Best Humor 


“STROKER ACE” (who tur 
Bob Опит and William Neely) zooms into 
first place with a highspeed vernacular ac 
count of а “sumbitch” of a stock-car race in / 
Lost It in the Second Turn (October), which 
Little, Brown published as part of a book 
called Stand on ft. Our number-two sidesplit- 
ter is Jean Shepherd's Lost at C (May). about 
the comeuppance of a scholastic Fak 


Best New Contributor (Nonfiction) 


ROGER RAPOPORT makes an auspicious 
debut with his imvestigative перон ort sume 
of the questionable practices of the medical 
profession in It’s Enough to Make You Sick 
(September). It was. Second place goes to 
Laurence Leamer, another new face in our 
Playbill, for Twilight for а Baron (May), a 
profile of Major William Purviance Tams, 
Jast of the West Virginia coal barons. 


WAYNE McLOUGHLIN and SCOT MOR- 
RIS ace the satire field with a hypothesis 
that takes Darwin’s evolution beyond the 
World War Eleven stage im The Fallout 
Follies (October). Paul Krassmers Thomas 
Eagleton Scagull (September), to be included 
in a book this winter, and Marshall Brick- 
man’s The Celebrated Ponce-Kmitch Match 
(April) tie for second place. 


217 


PLAYBOY 


218 


FAITHLESS WIFE 


not once but three times, and always 
as conspicuously as possible. Why? Be 
cause he was a tailor. Just as you do be- 
cause you run a boutique. You don't 
pray? Sensible woman. Why should you 
bother your Bon Dieu, if there is a Bon 
Dieu, with your pretty ргаше about 
things that He knew all about a thou- 
sand million years before you were a 
twinkle in your mother's eye? My dearest 
and most perfect love, you haye told me 
everything about Irishwomen that I need 
to know. None of you says what you 
think. Every one of you means what you 
don't say. None of you thinks about what 
she is going to do. But every one of you 
Knows it to the last dot. You dream like 
opium eaters and your eyes are as calm 
as resting snow. You are all of you realists 
to your bare backsides. Yes, yes, yes, уез, 
yes, you will say this is true of all women, 
but it is not. It is not even true of French- 
women. They may be realists in lots of 
things. But in love, they are just as stupi 
as all the rest of us. But not Irishwomen! 
Or not, I swear it, if they are all like you. 
TH prove it to you with a single questioi 
Would you. like Mimi, live for the sake 
of love in a Paris garret?” 

She gravely considered a proposi 
that sounded delightfully like a proposal. 

“How warm would the garret be? 
Would 1 have to die of consumption? 
You remember how the poor bohemian 
poet had to burn his play to keep them 
all from being famished with the cold.” 

"Yes" Ferdy laughed. “And as the 
fire died away, he said, ‘I always knew 
that first act was too damned short.’ 
But you are dodging my question 
I suppose, durling, amy woman's an- 
swer to your question would depend on 
how much she was in love with whoever 
he was. Or wouldn't it2” 

Between delight and fury he dragged 
her into his arms. 

You know perfectly well, you sweet 
slut, that what I am asking you is, Do 
you love me a lot or a little? A garretful 
or a palaceful? Which is it? 
ckling, she slid down low in the 
settee and smiled up at him between 
sleepy-cat eyelashes. 

“And you, Ferdy, must know perfect- 
ly well that it is pointless to ask any 
woman silly questions like that. If some 
man 1 loved very much were to ask me, 
“Do you love me, Celia? I would na 
rally answer, ‘Ni order to make 
him love me more. And if it was some 
man 1 did not like at all, 1 would natu- 
Шу say, ‘Yes, I love you so much I 
think we ought to get married,’ in order 
to cool him off. Which, Ferdy, do you 
want me to say to you?" 

Say," he whispered adoringly. “that 
you hate me beyond the ninth circle of 
Dante's hell." 

She made a grave face. 

“I'm afraid, Ferdy, the fact is I don't. 


(continued from page 192) 


like you at all. Not at all! Not one least. 
litle bit at all, at all.” 

At which lying, laughing, enlacing 
and unlacing moment they kissed pneu- 
matically and he knew th 
women were Celias, then the 
mankind were mad ever to have ad- 
mired women of any other race. 

Their lovemaking was not as he bad. 
forcdreamed it. She hurled her clothes 
to the four corners of the room, crying 


out, "And about time, too! Ferdy, what 
the hell have you been foot! ‘ound 
p the last six weeks?” Within 


five minutes she smashed him into bits. 
passion she was more like a lion 
a lioness. There was nothing about 
her either titillating or erotic, indolent 
or indulgent, she was as wild, as animal, 
as unrestrained as a forest fire. When, 
panting beside her, he recovered 
enough breath to speak, he expressed 
his surprise that onc so cool, so ladylike 


in public could be so different in pri- 
vate. She grunted peacefully and 
her muted brogue, 


aid in 
“Ah, shure, durling, 


everything changes in the beddaroom 

He woke at 3:25 in the morning with 
that clear bang so familiar to everybody 
who drinks too much after the chimes 
at midnight. rose to drink a pint of cold 
water, lightly opened his curtains to 
survey the predawn May sky and, turn- 
ing toward the bed, saw the pallid 
street lamp's light fall across her sleep- 
ing face, as calm, as soothed, as inno- 
cently sated as a baby filled with its 
mother's milk. He sat on the side of the 
bed looking down at her for a long 
time, overcome by the terrifying knowl- 
edge that he had, for the first time in 
his life, fallen in love 

The eastern clouds were growing as 
pink as petals while they drank the cof- 
fee he had quictly prepared. Over it he 
ly gasping whis- 
next mecting the following 
afternoon—"This afternoon!" he said 
joyously—at 3:25 o'clock, henceforth his 
Mystic Hour for Love, but only on the 
strict proviso that he would not count on. 
her unless she had set three red geraniums 
n a row on the window sill of her bou- 
tique before three o'clock and that she, 
for her part, must divine a tragedy if the 
ins of his flat were not looped high 
20 o'clock. He 


cur 
when she approached at 3: 
could, she knew, have more easily checked 
with her by telephone, but also knowing 
how romantically, voluptuously, eroti- 
cally minded he was, she accepted with 
an indulgent amusement what he ob- 
viously considered ingenious devices for 
increasing the voltage of passion by the 
trappings of conspiracy. To herself she 
thought, “Poor boy! He's been reading 
too many books.” 

Between two р.м. and three рм. that 
afternoon, she was entertained to sce 


him pass her boutique three times in 
dark glasses. She cruclly made him pass 
a fourth time before, precisely at three 
o'clock, she gave him the pleasure of 
seeing two white hands with pink fin- 
gernails—not, wickedly, her own: her 
assistant’s—emerge from under the nct 
curtains of her window to arrange three 
small scarlet geraniums on the sill. He 
must have hastened perfervidly to the 
nearest florist to purchase the pink 
roses whose petals, when she rang his 
bell five cruel moments after his My 
Hour, she found tessellating the silk 
sheets of his bed. His gramophone, 
muted by a bath towel, was murmuring 
"Wagner. A joss stick in a brass bowl 
stank cloyingly. He had cast а pink silk 
head scarf over the bedside lamp. His 
dressingtable mirror had been tilted so 
that from where they lay they could sce 
themselves. Within five minutes he did 
not sce, hear nor smell anything, tum- 
ig. falling, hurling headlong to con- 
usness of her wild laughter at the 
image of her bottom mottled all over by 
g rose petals. It cost him a 
brutal effort to laugh with her, at himself. 

All that afternoon he talked only of 
flight, divorce and remarriage. To cool 
him, she encouraged him. He talked of 
it again and again every time they met. 
Loving him, she humored him, On the 
Wednesday of their third weck as lovers, 
they met briefly and chastely, because 
her Meehawl was throwing a dinner at 
their house that evening for а few of lı 
business colleagues previous to flying 
ош to. Manchester fof а two-day con- 
vention of cutlers. Ferdy at once prom- 
ed her to lay in a store of cham 
viar, pülé de foie and brioches, so 
that they need not stir from their bed 
for the whole of those two days. 

“Not even once?" she asked coarsely, 
and he made a moue of disapproval. 

You do not need to be all that reali 
tic, Celia!" 

Already by 3:15 that Thursday after- 
noon, he was shuffling nervously from 
window to window. By 3:25 he was 
muttering, “I hope she's not poing to be 
late." He kept fecling the champagne 
to be sure it was not getting too cold. At 
3:35 he moaned, “She is late!" At 3:40 
he cried out in a jealous fury, glaring 
up and down the street, “The slut is 
betraying me!” At a quarter to four his 
bell rang, he leaped to the door. She 
faced him as coldly as a newly 
ue of Carrara marble. She rep 
his arms. She would not s 
door mat. Her eyes were di 

“It is Mechawll” she whispered. 

“He has found us out? 

“Ws the judgment of God on us 
both! 


hing: 
“A stroke." 
She made a violent, downward swish 


Only Christmas is Christmas. 
Only VO isVO. 


Scagra 


vO. 


CANADIAN WHISK] 


CIFT-WRAPPED AT NO EXTRA CHARGE 


Seagram's WG) The First ous 


LCANIOIAN WHISKY—A BLERO OF SELECTED MHISKIES. SIX YEARS OLD. B В PROOF. SERA 


PLAYBOY 


I remembe: vie Loi EES) 
aie ee aac 


with the side of her open palm. 
Unc attaque? De paralysie: 

“He called at the boutique on his 
way to the planc. He said goodbye to 
me. He walked out to the taxi. I went 
into my office to prepare my vanity case 
and do peepee before I met you. The 
tani dri an in, shouting that he had. 
fallen in a fit on the pavement. We 
drove him to etysix. That's Saint 
Vincent's. The hospital near the comer 
of the green. He is conscious. But he 
cannot speak. One side of him is p 
lyzed. He may not live.” 

She turned and went galloping down 
the stairs. 

His immediate rebound was to roar 
curses on all the gods that never wer 
Why couldn't the old fool have his 
ttack next week? His second thought 


was glorious, "He will die, we will get 


married." His third made him weep, 
"Poor little cabl His fourth 
thought was. “The brioches I throw 


out, the rest into the fridge.” His fifth, 
sixth and seventh were three Scotches 
while he rationally considered all her 
posible reactions to the brush of the 
dark angels wing. Only time, he de- 
cided, would tell. 

Bur when liars become the slaves of 
do but lie like 


time, what can time 
them? A vat, solidtooking enough for 
old wine; it leaks at every stave. A ship. 


rigged for the wildest seas; it is rust- 
bound to its bollards on the quay. She 
said firmly that nothing between uem 
could change. He refuted her. Every- 
thing had changed, for the better. He 
rejoiced when the doctors said their 
patient was doomed. After two more 
weeks, she reported that the doctors 
were impressed by her husband's re- 
markable tenacity. He spoke of flight. 
She spoke of time. One night as she lay 
hot in his arms in his bed, he shouted 
triumphantly to the chandelier that 
when husbands arc imprisoned, lovers 
are free. She demurred, saying that she 
could never spend a nigh h him in 
her own bed: not with a resident house- 
keeper upstairs, He tossed it aside. 
What matter where they slept? He 
would be happy sleeping with her in 
the Phoenix Park. She was furious. She 
pointed out that it was raining. "Am I 
а seal?” He proffered her champagne. 
She confessed the awful truth. This 
night was the last night they could be 
together. 

“While he was dying, a few of his 
ess pals used to call on him at the 
nursing homc—the place all Dublin 
knows as ninety-six. Now that the old 
devil is refusing to dic, they refuse to 
call on him anymore. 1 his only 
faithful visitor. He so bores everybody. 
And with his paralyzed mouth, they 
don't know what the hell he is saying. 
Do you realize, Ferdy, what this mean: 
He is riding me like a nightmare. He 


rang me four times the day before yes- 
terday at the boutique. He rang again 
while І was here with you having a 
drink. He said whenever I go out | 
must leave a number where he can call 
me. The night before last, he rang me 
at three o'clock in the morning. Thank 
God 1 was back in my own bed and not 
here with you. He said he was lonely. 
Has terrible dreams. The nights are 
long. He is frightened. That if he gets 
another stroke, he will die. Diirling! I 
cannot spend a whole night with you 
again!” 

Ferdy became Napoleon. He took 
command of the campaign. He accom- 
panied her on her next visit to 96. This, 
he discovered, was a luxury (i, Victo- 
an) nursing home in Lower Leeson 
Lane, where only cardinals died, only 
coal fires were in order, where every- 
body was presented with a menu from 
which to choose his lunch. and dinner. 
The carpets were an inch thick. The 
only internal sound heard was the Mass 
bell tinkling along the corridors early 


every morning as the priest went from 
room to room with the Eucharist for 
the dying faithful. The Irish, Ferdy de- 


cided, know how to die. He, knowing 
no better, bore with him copies of Le 
Canard Enchainé and La Vie Pari 
sienne. Celia deftly impounded them. 
“Do you want him to die of high blood 
pressure? Do you want the nuns to 
think he's a queer? A fellow who pre 
fers women to drink: ted at one 
side of the bed, facing her seated at the 
other, he watched her, with her deli- 
cate lacetdged handkerchiel (зо disturb- 
gly reminiscent of her lace-edged 
panties). wiping the unshaven chin of 
the dribbling hallidiot on the pillow. 
In an unconsumed rage, he lifted his 
eyebrows into his hair, surveyed the 
moving mass of clouds above Georgian 
Dublin, smoothened his already black- 
boardsmooth hair, gently touched the 
е carnation in his lapel, forced 
self to listen calmly to the allbut- 
unintelligible sounds dribbling from 
the dribbling corner of the twisted 
mouth, and agonizingly asked himself by 
what unimaginably devious machinery, 
and for what indivinable purpose, the 
universe had been so arranged since the 
beginning of time that this bronze- 
capped. pasteleyed. rosy-breasted, round- 
Duttocked, exquisite flower of paradise 
sitting opposite him should, in the 
frst place, have matched and mated 
with this slob between them, and the 
and then, or rather AND 
THEN make it so happen that he, Fer- 
dinand Louis Jean-Honoré Clichy, of 9 
bis Rue des Dominicains, Nancy, in the 
Department of Meurthe et Moselle, 
population 123,428, altitude 212 meters, 
should happen to discover her in remote 
Dublin and fall so utterly into her power 
that if he were required at that particular 


or rather 


second to choose berween becoming am- 
bassador to the Court of Saint James for 
life and one night alone in bed with her. 
he would have at once replied, “Even for 
one hour!” 

He gathered that the object on the 
pillow was addressing him. 

"Oh, mosheer! Thacks be to the ever- 
cliving and doving Gog I khav mosht 
devote clittle wife in all Khlistendom. 
2. Га be chlost without her, . . . Ah, 
mosheer! If. you ever dehide to marry, 
marry an Irikhwoman. . . . Mosht fafe 
ful eatures in all exhisht 
Would any Frenchwoman atte 
pid ole шап «Шке me the way Chelia 
doesh? 

Ferdy dosed his eyes. She was ten- 
derly dabbing the spittled corners of 
the distorted mouth, What happened 
next was that a sister took Celia out to 
the corridor for a few private words 
and that Ferdy at once leaned forward 
and whispered to the apparently im- 
mortal O'Sullivan, “Monsieur O'Sulli 
van, your wife does not look at all well. 
1 fear she is wilting under the strain of 


“Chistrain!” the idiot said in aston- 
ishment. "What chlstrain? Е khlsee no 
khlsignch of any chistrain! 

Ferdy whispered with a gentle fierce- 
ness that when one is gravely ill, one 
may sometimes fail to observe the grave 
illness of others. 

“We have 
that if your dittle wife were to collapse 
under the chlstr . . . under the strain of 
your illness, it would be very scrious, 
for you 

After that day, the only reason he 
agreed to accompany his love on these 


to remember, monsieur, 


s ended 
begging him to take his poor clitde, 
cloving clittle, devote сіце pet of a 
wife to a movic for a relaxation and а 
rest, or for a drink in the Russell, or to 
ng races in the park; where- 
would both hasten, panting, 


the even 


idly and tively—swiltly be 
cause their time was limited, wildly be- 
cause her Irish storms had by now 
become Oriental typhoons of rage, and 
he had simultaneously become cured of 
rose petals, Wagner, dim lights and 
pink champagne, and vindictively in 
т to declare and crush their humil- 
ation at being subject to another m: 
n another bed. 

Inevitably, the afternoon  came—it 
was now July—when Ferdy's pride and 
nerves cracked. He decided that enough. 
was enough. They must escape to frec- 
dom. At once. 

"Celia! И we have to fly to the end of 
the world! It won't really ruin my ca- 
reer. My master is most sympathetic. In 
fact, since 1 hinted to him that I am in 


221 


PLAYBOY 


222 


love with a belle mariée, he does noth- 
ing but complain about his wife to me. 
And he can't leave her, his career 
depends on her, she is the daughter of 
a secretary of state for foreign affairs -— 
and rich. He tells me that at worst 1 
would be moved off to some place like 
Los Angeles or Reykjavik. Celia! My 
beloved Hower! We could be as happy 
as two puppies in a basket in Iceland. 
She permitted a measure of Icelandic 
silence to create itself and then asked 
rellectively if it is ever warm in Iceland, 
at which he pounced with a loud 
do you mean? What are you asking? 
What is really in your m 
She said, “Nothing, dürling,” for how 
could she dare say that whereas he 
could carry his job with him wherever 
he went, she, to be with him, would 
have to give up her lovely old, friendly 
old, silly old boutique on the green 
where her friends came to chat over 
morning coffee, where she met every 
rich tourist who visited Dubiin, where 
she made nice money of her own, where 


she felt independent and free; just as she 
could never hope to make him under- 
stand why she simply could not just up 
and out and desert her husband, 

“But there's nothing to hold you 
here! In his condition, you'd be sure to 
get custody of the children. Apart from. 
the holidays, they coud remain in 
school here the year round.” 


So he had been thinking it all out. 
She stroked his hairy chest. 

1 know. 

“The man, even at his best, you've ac- 


nowledged it yourself, over and over, 
fool. He is a muzhik. He is a bore.” 

I know!" she groaned. “Who should 
better know what a crasher he is? He is 
a child. He hasn't had a new idea in his 
head for thirty years. There have been 
times when I've hated the smell of him. 
He reminds me of a hotel ashtray. 
"Times when I've wished to God that a 
thief would break into the house some 
night and kil him. And," at which 
point she began то weep on his tum 
“I know now that there is only one 


“OK, boys—Crawbuck and Moffet go in the back, 
Hudson and Comier go up the fire escape, I cover the front 


and Flynn, here, goes down the chimne: 


thief who will come for him and he is so 
busy clcwhere that it will be years be- 
fore he catches up with him. And then 
I think of the poor bastard in his hospi 
tal bed. umab’e to stir, scarcely able to 
talk, looking up at his ceiling, inconti- 
nent, practically a wetanddlirty case, 
with no scissors, no golf, no friends, no 
nothing, except me. How can 1 desert 
him? 

Ferdy clasped his hands behind his 
head, stared up at heaven's pure cei ing 
and heard her weeping like the sum- 
mer rain licking his windowpane. He 
created a long Irish silence. He herd 
the city whispering. Far away. Farther 
away. And then not at all. 
And to think,” he said ar last, “th 
1 once called you a realis 

She considered this. She, too, mo 
longer heard the muttering of the city’s 
авс. 

“This is how the world is made, 
decided. 


e meanwhile be 
beloved Meehawl with me? 

“I know that there's not one of 
those bitches who wouldn't give her 
left breast to be where I am at this 
moment. 

They got out of bed and began to 
dre 


ing your 


nd, also meanwhile, I presume you 
do not know that they have a snotty 
name for you?" 

“What пате?" 
е back for the knife. 
[hey call you The Diplomatic Hack.” 

For five minutes, neither of them 
spoke. 

While he was stuffing bis shirt into 
his trousers and she, dressed fully ex- 
cept for her frock, was patting her 
penny-brown hair into place before his 
mirror, he said to her, “Furthermore, I 
suppose you do realize that whether I 
like it or not, I shall one day be shifted 
to some other city in some other coun- 
What would you do then? For once 
in your life, tell me the plain truth! 
Just to bring you to the crunch, What 
would you do the 

She turned, comb in hand, lcuncd 
her behind against his dressing tb'e 
and looked him straight in the fly, which 
he was still zipping. 

“Die,” she said flatly. 

“That,” he said coldly, “is a manner 
of speech. Even so, would you consider 
it an adequate conclusion 10 a love that 
we have so often said is forever?” 

They were now side by side in the 
mirror, she tending her brown hair, he 
his black, like any long-married couple. 
She smiled a little sadly. 

“Forever? Durling, docs love know 
that lovely word? You love me. I know 
it. 1 love you. You know it. We will al- 

ays know it. People die, but if you 


1 she turned her 


have ever loved them, they are never 


gone. Apples fall from the tree, but the 
tree never forgets its blossoms. Bur 


marriage is different. You remember 
the day he advised you that if you ever 
marry, you should marry an Irishwoman. 
Don't, Ferdy! If you do, she will stick to 
you forever. And you wouldn't really 
want that." She lifted her frock from the. 
back of a chair and stepped into 
me up, dürling, will you? Even my 
husband. There must have been a time 
when T thought him attractive. We used 
to sail together. Play tennis together. He 


was very good at it, Alter all, I gave him 


two children. W They'll be 
home for the holidays soon. АП I hive 
left for him now is contempt and com- 


he went to the window, 
button! flowered waistc 

remembered from his café d 
dent a ruffle of aphorisms about love 
and marii; Marri: begins only 
when love ends. Love opens the door to 
marriage and qui als away. I 
faut toujours s'appuyer sur les prin- 
сірех de lamour—ils finissent. par en 
céder. What would she say to that? Lean 
heavily on the principles of love— 
they will always crumple in the end. 
Marriage bestows on love the tender 
ness due to a parting guest. Every af- 
faire de coeur ends as a mariage de 
ed to her, 


his hat. She was peeking into her hand- 
bag, checking her purse for her keys 
and her lace hı 
her gloves, giving a last. glance. 


hat. One of the things he liked about 
her was t 
You 


t she alwa 


he said. quietly “Oh, 1 don't 
pout loving me. I have no doubt 
about you on that score. But when you 
persuade yourself that you can't leave 
him because you feel compassion for 
him, that is just your selfexcuse for 
continuing a marriage that has its evi 
dent advantages." 

She smiled lovingly at him. 

"Will you ring me tomorrow, dür- 
ling?" 

“OF course.” 


nuil tomorrow, di 

As usual, he let her go first. 

That afternoon was some two years 
ago. Nine months after it, he was tran: 
ferred to Brussels. As often as he could 
ngle special leave of absence, and she 
could get a relative to stay for а week 
with her bedridden husband, now back 
in his own house, they would fly to 
Paris or London to be together agai 
He would always ask solicitously after 
her husband's health, and she would 


“May I remind you, son, that when 
you attack religion, you set yourself 
against morality. against honorable tradition, against 
scholarship and against the only thing that 
stops you from becoming a curry.” 


always sigh and say his doctors had 
assured her that “he will live forever.” 
Once, in Paris, passing a church, he, for 
some reason, asked her if she ever went 
10 confession. Sle waved the question 


with a laugh, but later that after- 
ug 


noon he returned to it pertinaciously. 
"Yes. Once a yi 
“Do you tell your priest abos 


“Lell him that my husband is bed- 
nin love with another 
n. That we make love. And that I 
nor give you up. As T can't. dürling." 

“And what docs he say to th; 

"They all say the same. That it is an 
impasse. Only one dear oll Jesuit give 
n of hope. He said that if I 
d pray to God that my hus- 
band might die.” 

“And have you so prayed?" 

“Diirling, why should 12" she asked 
gaily, as she stroked the curly hair be- 
tween his two pink buttons. “As you 
once pointed out to me yoursc'f, all this 
was foreknown millions of ye n 

He gazed at the ceiling. In her place, 
unbeliever though he was. he would, 


з ago 


for loves sake, have prayed with pas 
sion. Not that she had said directly that. 
she had not. Maybe she had. Two ev: 
sions in one sentence! It was all more 
than flesh and blood could bear. It 
the hish variation all over ag 
Never let your left ass know what your 
t ass is doing. He decided to give 
her one more twirl. When he got home, 
he wrote tenderly to her, “You are the 
Iove of my lile! 

He could hear her 
“And me, 100, darling’ 

What she actually replied w 
1 know i 
months later, he had maneuvered 
himself imo the consular service and 
out of Europe. to Los Angeles. He 
there consoled his broken heart with 
a handsome creature named Rosie 


ionate avowal, 


O'Connor. Quized about his parti 
for 


the Irish, he could only flap h 
ds and say, “I don't know. They 
awful liars, There isn't a grain of 
romance in them. And they are such 
faithless creatures. 


223 


RALPH BAKSHI drawing power 


“YoU CAN'T WALK AROUND unshaven in California," says onc of 
its new residents, animated-film maker Ralph Bakshi. “In New 
York, I used to put on a dirty shirt and visit the Bowery. It was 
great, But here, everybody's so clean. It’s ridiculous." He's glad 
to be in California anyway, because that's where people who 
make movies live and the 32-year-old Bakshi has just finished 
his second, Heavy Traffic, the semiautobiographical story of a 
shy cartoonist in the New York slums, whose world is filled with 
dog-faced drag queens, legless bar bouncers and violent visions 

ing through space—the stuff of ghetto nightmares. “They 
were my nightmares, And I held back, if you want to know the 
truth. T was pretty conservative in deciding to show what I did.” 
Before Traffic, Bakshi did Fritz the Cat, billed as the first X- 
rated cartoon and a film that proved to be both a break and a 
curse for him. "Fritz was a hit, but I went six months without a 
picture afterward, because everybody wanted me to do another 
Fritz. I could have spent the rest of my life drawing animals 
fucking.” He leaned animation at CBS Terrytoons, his first 
job after high school, then moved to head Paramount's cartoon 
studio. After six months, he was so bored he quit. “Everyone 
was limited in his thinking about animation, I wanted to show 
that animation can compete with live action in fulllength 
films.” He finally met someone who listened, producer Steve 
Krantz, with whom he collaborated on Fritz and Troffic, and 
the rest is recent history. Now Bakshi has his own company and 
is immersed in his next project. “It’s called Coon Skin and it's 
a white man looking at black people and saying, ‘Wow! Look 
what the fuck we did to them." " After that, he hopes to work 
with “a major writer to animate an original work, Something 
really significant. "There's no reason why something as impor- 
tant as War and Peace couldn't be done with animation. 
Given his talent and the scope of his ambition, it looks as if 
Bakshi will be spending a lot of time at his new drawing board. 


монд. MAUNEY 


JODY SCHECKTER whiz kid 


KEEPING TRACK of racecar drivers is like watching rabbits— 
every time you look, there's a new one. Yet once in a while, a 
driver will varoom past all the rest with such consistency that 


even the experts start bet 
were on a young South 
after a steady wave of 


ag on him. This past season, the odds 
African named Jody Scheckter. At 23, 
mpressive Formula 5000 wins, he had 


been dubbed fastest rookie on the road by people who know 


what's fast—pcople like Enzo Ferrari, Jackie Stewart and Brian 
Redman, Starting in his father's garage in East London, South 
Africa, at the age of ten, Scheckter has raced everything from 
gocarts to stock cars, He soon became the Junior Johnson 
of his native country, where stock-car racing still has the 
backwoodsy flavor of the early fairground-circuit days in 
America. “I got my style—or rather my lack of it—from 
stock-car racing," says Scheckter, “where it really ain't racin’ if 
you don't crack into "em." Scheckter doesn't crack into them 
anymore, but he does have a remarkable way of careening side- 
ways around tricky turns without killing himself. “People say 
it looks dangerous and way out of control,” he says, “but 
actually, it's completely controlled and very natural. Other 
wise, I'd lose time.” Until Scheckter's arrival, Formula 5000 
racing was not exactly a spotlight event. Begun in 1967, 
it features slightly slower versions of the Grand Prix cars. 
Scheckter, who locked up the L&M Championship at Pocono 
Raceway, Pennsylvania, in the eighth race of the season, scored 
his most impressive victory at Watkins Glen, New York, where 
he won in а car he wasn't used to driving, breaking Jackie 
Stewart's Grand Prix track record in the process. was 
nervous at first.” Scheckter admits, “but the new car was 
really very good." In fact, Scheckter has managed to break 
course records on most of the tracks he's raced. “It went well 
this past season,” he says, “so we'll give a go at the Grand Prix 
in 1974 and see what happens." Fasten your scat belts, world. 


DAVID Al 


i : 


LEXANDER 


DR. JOHN good for what ails you 


HE WAKES UP after nine rast., rides over to the gig with his road 
manager and walks slowly, anonymously up the back stairs to 
the dressing room. While his sidemen don their surreal finery— 
grass skirts, top hats, etc—he garbs himself in chamois, adds a 
staggering number of amulets and charms (“People give me this 
stuff that they think I like"), wraps a snakeskin around his 
head, tops that off with a feather headdress and—while make-up 
is applicd to his face by a San Francisco Cockette who's been 
flown in for that purpose—talks to reporters in a remote but 
kindly way: Yes, he's really into voodoo; no, he didn't “create” 
the Dr. John character, it created him. Out front, the band 
gets the packed house rocking with a classic New Orleans r&b 
tune; when the doctor and his two girl singers appear, tossing 
glitter into the crowd, the kids are ready for an orgiastic rock 
show—and that's just what they get. Most of them don't know, 
of course, that Dr. John—real name, Malcolm Rebennack, Jr. 

was born 82 years ago in New Orleans, where his father ran an 
appliance business and sold records: that he was an A&R n 
for Ace Records by the time he was 17; nor that he wound up 
in Hollywood playing on sessions for Sonny and Chér before 
he decided, in 1968, to do his own thing and came out with the 
first Dr. John LP, a midnight ramble through the folklore of 
south Louisiana, with Creole thythms, dolorous voodoo chant 
ing, trippy lyrics that were part put-on, and his own one-oLa- 
kind voice (“I figured that if what Sonny and Chér did could 
be considered singin’, then what I did could be considered 
singin’, too”). He quickly acquired a small but devoted follow- 
ing, yet he didn’t hit the top-ten jack pot until he went into 
the studio to record Right Place, Wrong Time with pianist- 
producer Allen Toussaint. Now Dr. John’s a genuine star. He'll 
bc happier, though, if he can help bring back some of the 
Crescent City rock giants who taught. him his stull—old-timers 
like Professor Longhair and Fats Domino, We'd be happy, too. 


ROBERT FAILLA / RAINBOW 
a ‚т чы 


- 


PLAYBOY 


226 


HAITI, COODBYE „оп page 211) 


notice that they stay at the hotel. To my 
knowledge, they never make it to that 
thatched hut. 

The Greck has been losing his friends. 
He seemed to have a great many at first, 
but they are dropping away, He looks at 
me with a certain longing. He holds his 
upper abdomen a lot and I find out he 
has an ulcer condition that’s in high 
gear. He has fainted а few times and 
there is а girl at the hospital who gives 
im shots to keep the ulecr under con- 
wol. It isn't really under control. He is 
not supposed to do this, of course, but he 
drinks brandy around the clock and 
smokes six packs of cigarettes a day. He 
says to me: "I have a story to tell you, bi 
1 can't tell it while I'm in this country 
1 tell him not to say he’s got a story but 
that he can't tell it. That's no usc to any- 
one. It's called jerking someone off. He 
lets that go down. And 1 have a feeling 
Till be hearing from him again. 

Iam in Haiti for a rest, but I am not 
much of a rester. As soon as 1 feel rested, 
Im finished resting. I can't imagine 
doing any resting for the future. I have 
to get away from the hotel and look 
around. I buy a Haitian primitive paint- 
ing and I am delighted to learn that the 
artist is 82. I look at some cameras. There 
is a great to-do about a new Minolta that 
can take pictures around corners. They 


can't understand why I don't want. one. 
You'll get a Watergate,” one says. I head 
for a place called Kenscoff, in the moun- 
tains, stop off for a bite and wind up hav- 
ing the most magnificent meal of the 
trip. Or any trip. It costs $20 just to get 
to this restaurant and 1 appear to be the 
only customer of the day. Possibly the 
month. It is not an ideal location for a 
gourmet restaurant and I deduce that the 
host is a poor planner. 

1 never get to Kenscoff. I do make it to 
Duvzlicr's grave. I've heard that ten men 
with submachine guns guard it night and 
day. It is inlaid with hundreds of thou- 
sands of dollars in gem stones. The crypt 
is neat, handsomely marbled, smaller 
than those of other dead Haitians. A lit- 
tle vaciuon home. Of the ten guards, five 
are military slick, the other five are 
sleepy and sit on chairs, dozing, with 
guns in their laps. I worry about these 
sleepy ones. There is an eternal fire in 
front of the crypt and I flirt with the no- 
tion of lighting my cigar on it, but I don’t 
proceed to do so. This is 2 good caper sit- 
uation. Steve McQueen and a small band 
ripping off Duvalier’s grave. On second 
thought, it's not that good. On the way 
back, each time we stop for a light, crip- 
ples and blind people are presented to 
me by their children or friends, as 
though for comment. As h one is 
shoved forward, the presenter steps to 


“Atkins, I'd like you to resign for reasons of 
ill health. You make me sick." 


the side with a flourish, as if to sa 
“What do you think of that?” We pass a 
square where there is а giant picture of 
the dead Duvalicr and a banner that 
Says, L'IDOLE DES PEUPLES. I recall an argu- 
ment at the hotel in which a Haitian i 
sisted that the banner said, “Duvalier, 
hero of the people." He was incorrect. 

T've had enough. It is Thursday and I 
plan to leave Friday. The Greek is up to 
eight packs of cigarettes a day and is 
drinking shots of rum along with hi 
brandy and black collec. As I understand 
it, this is poor ulcer therapy. Hc is living 
under a very real cloud, but I notice that 
he has managed to pick off the wife of a 
vacationing Midwestern ecologist. He 
has made a loud public announcement to 
this effect at the pool, describing the se- 
duction in detail. So he is not the world’s 
most attractive fellow; but in spite of 
this, 1 don't like to sce him in such cond 
tion. He takes me aside and attempts to 
tell me his story. Before he begins, he ges- 
tures toward а man in an open-collared 
sport shirt who is sitting ten steps away, 
on a barstool. І realize that he goes with 
the Greek. Whenever the Greck moves, 
this fellow follows him, ten steps away. 
No sunglasses, No apparent weapon in 
his slacks. This is the new Haiti. єр 
that he is always there. 

‘The Greek whispers his story to me. 
When he is finished. 1 wait to be envel- 
oped by a sense of outrage. This does 
not happen. Here is his story: 

A group of wealthy Haitians hired him 
to give “order, suructure and technique" 
to Haitian art. His way of going about it 
was to start a kind of commune, bringing 
together ten of the country’s most prom- 
ising artists and, in some cases, their 
wives and girlfriends, "They lived with 
the Greek, ate with him, slept at his 
house and used his equipment. The ar 
Yangement was that the art produced 
would stay within the group, until five 
yeas had passed, at which ti 
thought would be given to its commercial 
use. And there would be a division of the 
profits. The Haitians turned up one day 
with a lawyer (someone with a badge 
that said Lawyer) and said they wanted 
their work returned, they were backing 
out. The Greek said, “Take it," and 
stepped out onto the terrace, wondering 
how they were going to take 40 percent 
of cach canvas. The artists took 250 
vases, slashed a painting of the Greck's 

nd took the supplies he had brought to 
the country. While they were doing this, 
the Greek’s adopted ten-year-old Haitian 
of the artists on the knee and 
ted. later, the Greck dis- 
covered that $5000 in cash, hidden in his 
underwear, was gone, too. He called an 
official in the government, who told him 
to leave Haiti as quickly as possible. He 
asked the owner of the hotel what to do 
d received the same advice. When he 
made arrangements to leave the country, 


he found that his papers were “not 
in order.” 

So the story docs not outrage me. I 
have seen the Greek in action. Its possi- 
ble the deal he made with the Haitians 
was highway robbery. Taking your wile 
or girlfriend to live in the Greek’s house 
is not intelligent. His predicament is 
hardly a cause célóbre and the Creek is 
not Central Casting in the here depart- 
ment. Still, heroes are in short supply 
these days, And T don't like the biting 
episode, 1 don’t think they should have 
taken the $5000. Once again. it's not the 
Dreyfus case, but I don’t like the shadow 
assigned to him. I don't think they 
should advise him to leave the country 
and then not let him out. The ulcer, the 
terror in his face are unmistakable. Its 
not pretty to watch. The Greek says he 
will go to the airport with me the next 
day, pretending that everything is all 
right. T picture a scene in which I'm let 
through the gate and the Greek is seized. 
screaming for help. What do I do then? 
I'm not looking forward to it 

The Greek is amazing. In the middle 
of this squeeze play, his eyes socketed 
with borh ulcer pain and the fear of Hai- 
tian prisons, he takes time out for a nude 
swim with the ecologist's wife. Before he 
jumps into the pool. he covers his geni 
I call him on that. Gencrally. he is 
having some trouble being sexy. He муз 
he's been told not to go near the airport 
on Friday. To stay where he is. In Haiti. 
So T don't have to worry about t 

port scene. 

The Greek takes me to his villa and 
shows me his paintings. They are being 
put onto rolls, some of which will be 
handed over to the "bare-ass" salesman, 
for sale in the States. The Greek is 
working very quickly. He is proud of 
some giant surrealist canvases; they sccm 
derivative to me. There is a group he dit 
in Paris, in the early Sixties, that are mar- 
velous, soulful, lonplegged girls with 
great exploding thighs. ‘The Greek hi 
repudiated these, T take a swim at the 
hotel and when 1 am finished, 1 notice 
that my contact lenses are missing. Tve 
put them in their container, in the same 


at 


place, six nights in a row, and now they 
are gone. Any other place in the world, 1 
would dismiss the possibility that some. 


one h п fucking around. But we're 
in Haiti. The Greek is very hot. And I'm 

who goes near him. So I get 
nd 1 am impossible to deal 
with ший I leave. That night, the Gree! 
knocks on my door, puffing at a cigarette 
as if it’s his life line, and asks me if ГА 
like 10 take the Ohio ladies to the whore- 
house. I tell him I don’t want to do that. 
And that isn't all I tell hi 


1 am happy to be leaving. I say good 
bye to a few people at the pool and then 
I come to the Greek. A good question to 
ask is how come they are persecuting 
him. He is not a. political type. What 


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227 


PLAYBOY 


228 


good is it going to do? The Greek an- 
swers this for me. He says he has used his 
last trump card, a friend in high H. 
circles, who has promised to come to the 
hotel and square things for him. But the 
friend never shows up. And he can’t be 
reached on the phone. “Maybe he got 
lost in trathe,” I suggest. 

The Greek says: " don't understand 
the man. I know his wife. I know his mis- 
tress. We all made love together. 1 made 
beautiful love to his mistress.” So I guess 
the answer lies in this area. The Greek 
asks me to give him a book. I hand over 
my copy of The Digger's Game, which I 
liked a lot and wanted to keep. He gives 
me a “soul” handshake, which I have 
trouble dealing with, He asks for my 
number in the States and says 1 should 
I don't hear from 

I'm not sure I 


ta few days and 
him-—blow tie whistle. 
have а whistle to blow. I try to leave, but. 
he won't let go of my hand. Thave a great 
deal of trouble getting away from him, 

1 go to the airport with the salesn 
In the car, I wonder aloud if the Greek is 
going to get out. He is a Greek citizen, 
but 1 don’t imagine the colonels are 
going to be cager to help. The salesman 
taps me on the shoulder and gestures 


ver. I get the idea and Tam 
quiet. 1 am very happy when the wheels 
of the plane leave the ground. 


I wait until the weekend goes by. Then 
Moni nd Tuesday. Late Tuesday, I 


get a call from Paris. Collect. It’s the 
Greek. He has gotten out, traveled 
through Guadeloupe and then on to 
ance. What he did was go to the airport. 
as though everything were in order. A 
lectured him there, 
ye you'll conduct yourself 
| the future; then ducking 
over and whispe “Is two hundred 
in cash to leave.” The Greek paid up. He 


said it was marvelous once again to be 
breathing the cl 
would I please 
z 


air of freedom and 
Ik up his su t can- 
ses in art circles, so that he could sell 
them for huge prices. 


Long before the Greek calls, 1 decide 
not to go back to Haiti. It is not exactly 
a moral judgment. People from the land 
of Watergate don't get to make those for 
a while. Its just that I've been there 
twice. 1 know what's there, And at the 
moment, it's not for me. 


“We could newer work ii out, 
Howard. I'm a highly conscious, liberated person, 
and anyhow, I hate your wee-wee!” 


YOUR HORRORSCOPE 
(continued from page 113) 
or just plain ambiguous but never, never 
ive. After all, there's no sense worry 
bout things before they happer 
ight? Wrong! We've been pampered and 
coddled long enough. It’s time for our 
astrologers to мор pussyfooting through 
our futures and tell us the cold, cruel facts. 
as they stand. We don't w 
scopes to sound like 
Peale baccalaureate address, do we? Of 
course not. So here, for the first time 
nywhere, PLAYBOY's team of crack 
uologers presents the unsoftened, u 
purgated truth about jour future. 


ARIE! 
March 21-Apri 


ri 


20 

With the entrance of Pluto into Can- 
cer, you begin the happiest period of 
your entire life. Get ready for it, y 
lucky ram, because it's going to last only 
three minutes—and if our stars are right. 
you'll probably be asleep when it occurs. 
Our advice to you: Stay awake all month. 

TAURUS 
April 21-May 21 

As a Taurus, you are basically a trust- 

ing fellow. You are also quite dense most 


of the ume. Although it is of the utmost. 
importance to you not to appear para- 
noid, keep your antennae up this month. 


or 


Pcople may be plot 
nce, why do your hisper 
and giggle when they pass you on the 
street? And how come your girlfriend 
keeps trying to get you interested in sky 
And have you ever stopped 10 
мей those Claymore Mines 


1 yos 
ends wi 


diving: 
think who pl 


Check on these things t, subtle 
manner this montli 
bodys feelin 


don't be | 


пад 


nays people. 


Beware: A terrible, terrible fate awaits 
you at the close of this month. Your 
knowledge of this celestial fact will tor- 
ment you, causing you to lose sleep, ap- 
petite and friends. You will fall into a 
deep depression, tics and twitches will 
develop, your voice will crack and your 
hands will shake. Since your demeanor is 
portant to your occupation, you will 
lose many clients, go into debt and send 
your family on а long trip. At the end 
of the month, anxiety, lone 
and depression will become unbe: 
and you will kill yourself. You rea 
here first. 


] Venus is the 
d this month it will 


As you'd better г 
planet of memory, 


he in perfect opposition to your full 
moon. This means a sizable portion of 
your memory will go on the fritz. Here 
are some of the things you'll probably 
forget this month: your native language, 
your boss's last name and profession, this 
forecast, the difference between an auto- 
mobile and a laxative, how to use your 
left foot, and the Alamo. If you're smart, 
you'll lock yourself into a hospital room 
for the duration. But since you're a Can- 
cer, you're not smart. 
LEO 
July 23-August 23 

This month, with Pluto in conjunction 
with a hall-moon, the essence of your 
true Leo personality will emerge. Let's 
at cool facade lis a 
boring, clumsy, stupid, hideous excuse 
for a Besides that, you 
have a miserable disposition, a demented 
outlook on life and an oppressive odor. 
But don't despair—life is only skin-decp. 
Just because you're a total reject in every 
conceivable way doesn't mean you 
should be unhappy. It means you should 
be suicidal But suicide is not in your 
stars, so you'll just have to be content 
with being unhappy. 


VIRGO 
August 24-September 23 

Jupiter is in opposition to Saturn, 
which means that this is your big month 
for overcoming fantastic odds. Take 
stock of this once: ime opportuni- 
ty. If you bet on the horses or play the 
lottery, you will undoubtedly clean up 
this month, despite scemingly impossible 
odds. This will make you very, very 
happy. So happy, in fact, that you wil 
forget the negative aspects of your good 
fortune and as you are about to collect 
your winnings, a great meteorite will fall 
to Earth. Guess who it will hit. 


LIBRA 
September 24-October 23 

Your sun is about to enter your fifth 
house with your new moon in opposition 
to Mercury and this indicates a slight. 
change in your life style. As a result, you 
will shed your buuondown shirts, your 
conservative ties and Bass Weejuns and 
give up your lucrative nine-to-five office 
job in the city to become a cave dweller 
and wandering sage ‚ New Jer- 
sey, where you will achieve enlightenment 
through a serics of lengthy philosophical 
dialogs with an empty oyster shell. After 
reaching a state of higher consciousness, 
you will announce to the world that you 
are the Messiah and contract infectious 
hepatitis. 


RPIO 
November 22 

"This month your sun will be entering 
your 11th house, while the full moon is 
in direct opposition to Mercury. Also, a 


October 2 


“Have you ever had a tune running through your head 
and you just can't get rid of ii?” 


parallax relationship will be set up be- 
tween Saturn and Mars. This can mean 
one of two things: Either absolutely 
nothing will happen to you this month 
or you will die. 
SAGITTARIUS 
November 23-December 21 

You Sag ns are sensitive, romantic 
souls constantly in search of true love. 
The girl of your dreams is out there 
somewhere and all you have to do is find 
her. This month, skyrockets will go off, 
bells will ring, waves will crash against 
diffs! Unfortunately, these are everyday 
occurrences and have nothing to do with 
your love life, which will be the same as 
grim. 


CAPRICORN 
December 22-January 20 


As a Capricorn, you were born under 
the sign of the goat. This explains your 
lousy cating habits. Fried foods, greasy 
foods, rich foods and fatty foods are your 
idea of paradise, Unfortunately, they are 
not your hearts idea of paradise and 
pretty soon you're going to regret the dis- 
gusting way you've been filling your face 
with garbage. This month, your body 
will begin to rebel. So be sensitive to sub- 
tle changes in your bodily functions— 

such as your heart stopping. 

AQUARIUS 

January 21-February 19 

At this point in time, many cydes will 
be completed. In other words, all the 


honest, rotten, lousy things you 
thought you got away with once will be 
catching up with you. For instance, re- 
member that tax form you filed in 8? 
Your accountant kept saying it was a big, 
big mistake and you'd regret it one day? 
Well, this is the day, No sense in trying to 
cover it up, either. The fact that you 
bungled it is unimpeachable. Tough 
break. Who knows, maybe you'll get to 
like prison. Aquarians are able to adapt 
to almost any change in atmosphere. 
PISCES 
February 20-March 20 

Guess what, sport? The powers of the 
cosmos, in their inimitable wisdom and 
inscrutable hindsight, are really going to 
fix your wagon this month. Why? you 
may wonder. Why not? Since your sun is 
about to enter your seventh house, you 
will lose the pow 
munication, the little bit you had, any- 
way. Your conversation will be composed 
solely of mom sequiturs. For instance, 
when your boss says, “Good morning,” 
you will answer, “Ihe Kaiser 
When your scerctary asks, 
your reply will be, “Damn the potatoes. 
Full speed ahead.” And so on. Eventually, 
your family will put you in a home, But 
don't feel too bad—being a Pisces, this 
will fulfill your desire to be committed to 


something. 


229 


Reactivated prosecutor Dewey moved 
into special quarters early in 1935. Work- 
g slowly and carefully with a staff of 
bright young attorneys and investigators, 
he began accumulating evidence. Schulz 
was of no special interest initially, be- 
cause the Federal Goverment had him. 
But once he was acquitted in Malone, 
Dewey publicly announced that Schultz 
was his prime target. The rumor spread 
that Dewey was set to indict Schultz in 
connection with the restaurant rackets 
and that this case would be unbeatable. 
But there was another rumor, as well. 
Dewey, it was whispered. was gathering 
evidence that would put Schultz in the 
Sing Sing electric chair for the 1935 mur- 
der of one Jules Modgilewsky. sometimes 
called Jules Martin or Modgilewsky the 
Commissar, one of Schulizs restaurant 
jıforcers with whom he had had i 
out. (A few years Inter, Schultz's some- 
time lawyer, close advisor and confidant, 
J * Davis. then on trial 
for crimes growing out of the association, 
told the full story of that snowy March 
g near Albany, how Schultz, with 
Davis watching, had pulled a gun in a 
hotel room and killed Modgilewsky on 
the spot.) 

As the rumors spread, Schultz's under- 
world friends worried considerably. И 
Schultz were convicted and confronted 
with а long stretch nitentiary, 
ild he take some of his friends with 
him in trade for a reduced sentenc 
would he, if acq iin, declare total 
to recover his empire? E 
breathi 
to everyone 


PLAYBOY 


To make things worse, Schultz also wi 
spout! 


ng the need to kill Dewey. pro- 
claiming with nearsighted logic that Dew- 
суз demise would solve his immediate 
problems and the future problems of 
others. Schultz even had a plan for the 
assassination and he turned to Albert 
Anastasia for help, asking Anastasia to 
stake out Dewey's Fifth Avenue apart- 
ment to see how easy it would be to get 
to him. Anastasia obediently did just 
that, but he did more. Concerned about 
the reaction of his friends at the top of 
the organization, he discussed the Schultz 
proposal with such rising voung aides as 
Carlo Gambino, who did not take kindly 
to the idea of a hit on a prosecutor and 
convinced Anastasia to carry word of the 
Schulz plot to Luciano and the other 
leaders of the Combination. Such news 
was upsetting, indeed, coming so soon 
alter the Syndicate had established firm 
rules against the killing of public ollicials 
and newspapermen, There was only one 
recourse. Schultz had to go, and the con- 
tract was given to the Lepke-Anastasia 
enforcement arm of the Syndicate. One 
of the top killers in the outht, Charlie 
230 “The Bug” Workman, a longtime Gar- 


THE WERT 9 ОМ ког» кет) 


ment District enforcer, was given per- 
sonal responsibility for the job. 

On October 23, 1935, Schultz went to 
a favorite hangout, the 
House and Tavern, i 
him in a back room were two bodyguards, 
Abe Landau and Bernard “Lulu” Rosen- 
krantz, and the wizard of the numbers, 
Otto "Abbadabba" Berman. Late in the 
evening, Schultz left the table to go to the 
men’s room. As he closed the door behind 
him, the front door of the Palace opened 
nd Workman and another killer entered. 
On their way to the back room, one of 
them opened the men'sroom door and 
shot the n 
fired at the men 


1 at the urinal while the other 


п the back room. А 
quick survey identified Landau, Rosen- 
Krantz and Berman, but no Schulu. Then 
the killers went back to the toilet. There 
was the Dutchman—the first man they'd 
shot. simply as a precaution against an 
attack from behind. 

Schultz lingered until the ne 

received the last rites of the Catholic 
Church and issued а long and deliri 
ous soliloquy with such admonitions as. 
"Mother is the best bet and don't let 
Satan draw you too fast.” Then he was 
gone. Six years later, Workman was 
rested and tried for the murder. In the 
middle of the trial, he suddenly pleaded 
guilty and was sentenced to life in prison. 
(In 1961, he was paroled and returned to 
New York, a shy, quiet man. When last 
heard of. he had become sales- 
man in the Garment District he had tcr- 
rorized so many years before.) 
Upon the Dutchman's death, the de- 
led records he had kept in his miserly 
concern over every penny spent fell into 
the hands of the authorities, Dewey would 
use them and other evidence to prosecute 
the underworkd's political allies, In the 
next four years, he managed to snare 
Davis, and then used him as a witness to 
ad the biggest Tammany tiger of them 
Il, Jimmy Hines, who ended up in Sing 
Sing for four years. 

Moving against Hines and the political 
hacks of Tammany Hall was only one 
facet of the Dewey campaign that would 
put him in the district 
the governor's mansion and, twice, on 
the campaign trail for the White House. 
Once Schultz was gone, the next target 
of the special prosecutor was the chair- 
man of the n ıl crime Syndicate, 
Charlie Lucky. For years, Luciano had 
followed the examples of Torrio, Lansky 
and Costello and had lived quietly ac- 
g to the principle out of sight, out 
d. Most of his troubles with the 
law had come carly in his career. Twice 
he was deeply involved in narcotics, and 
that stigma would remain with him the 
rest of his life. In 1916, he had been ar- 
rested as a runner and sent to a prison 
farm. In 1993, he was arrested again by 


T- 


Federal narcotics agents, who trapped 
him with heroin in his pocket. He ma- 
neuvered his way out of trouble that 
time by directing the agents, in exchange 
for dismissal of charges, to a large cache 
of heroin in a trunk hidden in a bas 
ment closet on Mulberry Street in Little 
Italy. But from that time on. he remained 
clean, or as clean as a rising underworld 
'erlord could ever be, his record dotted 
with arrests only for traffic violations, con- 
cealed weapons and bootleg counts, all 
of which were dismissed or nulled w 
small fines. 

Even alter the murders of С 
fasseria and Salvatore М. 
the most powerful underworld lead- 
er in the nation, Luciano ren 
lowy and slightly sinister figure 
whom much was whispered and little was 
known. He was seen with beautiful sho 
girls, most often with the dancer Gay 
Orlova, making the rounds of the best 
town spcitk-casies. He enjoyed the 
best seais at major sporting events. Un- 
like most of his underworld associates. he 
never married, opting instead for а no- 
madic existence in the best hotels. from 
the Barbizon Plaza to the Waldorf Tow- 
ers. His reputation was that of a sports- 
man, gambler. bootlegger, whose private 
cliems inhabited society's upper strata 
and who often invited him to their golf 
clubs and panties. 

Luciano had a growing reputation as 
one of the major underworld powers, 
but the true ез uence w: 
zed until he was singled out 
dia. As soon as he took ollice, 
La Guardia denounced Luciano as the 
city's leading hoodlum and ordercd his 
rest. He was, in fact, picked up by 
friendly cops but promptly released, be- 
cause there were no charges on which he 
could be held. If nothing else, the arrest 
sed the kind of publicity La Guardia 
craved and Luciano detested. 

After La Guardia's attack, Luciano be- 
came for New Yorkers something more 
than just another mobster, and after the 
murder of Schultz, he found himself in 
the middle of the spotlight. Dewey pro- 
moted him to the top of the list of those 
he was determined 10 send away. But it 
was no simple matter for the boy prose- 
cutor to nail the underworld's be 
chairman, Unlike Schulz, Luc 
maverick, run 


by 


tion man, a model corpo 
The Italian underworld, the U 
Siciliana or the Mafia, for want of a bet- 
ter name, had been restructured under 
his command—for though theoret 
he ruled but a single family, it 
that all the families looked for guidance. 
By the mid-Thirties, there were many 
strata of managers between Luciano and 
the actual commission of crimes. Maybe 
Luciano gave the orders from his head- 
quarters at the Waldorf Towers, in the 


Claridge Hotel, in a small midtown office 
on Broadway, in the back rooms of a 
dozen inconspicuous restaurants 
like the dictates of any corporate execu- 
tive, they filtered down through the chai, 
of command before they were executed 
To tie Luciano directly to any racket or 
crime seemed almost impossible. 

The deeper Dewey's staff dug into the 
various rackets, from protection to num- 
bers and all the rest in which they knew 
Luciano to be involved, the more hope 
less the task seemed. Charlie Lucky had 
covered himself well. 

As ome promising investigation after 
another collapsed. а sense of frustration 
filled the special prosecutor's office. But 
late in 1935. one area began to show 
promi i t Attorney. Fu- 
nice Carter had been given the thankless 
job by District Attorney Dodge of prose- 
cuting the endless parade of whores 
picked up in the brothels and on the 
streets of Manhattan. Though she won 
few convictions—the magistrates’ courts, 
where such trials were held. were per- 
haps the most corrupt in the city—Mrs. 
Carter observed some rather striking co- 
incidences. On the witness stand. most 
of the prostitutes told almost identi 
stories, how they were poor working girls 
from out of town who just happened to 
be visiting а friend when arrested: they 
were all represented by the sime law 
firms; if they were fined, the same bonds- 
men appeared with the money; and hov- 
cring in the background was always the 
same disbarred lawyer, Abe Karp, who 
was known to have close contacts in the 
underworld. Soon Mrs. Carter decided 
she was dealing not with freelance pur- 
veyors of joyless sex but with a huge and 
tightly controlled organization. She took 
her suspicions to Dodge, who ridiculed 
them. But down the street at Dewey's of- 
fice, she found a receptive audience. 
Dewey hired her away from Dodge 
put her to work with two of his bı 


young attorneys, Sol Gelb and Murray 
young y ў ау 
п (now a United States District 
ned 


Gurte 
Judge in New York), who soon confir 
that the whores were, ii 
Wherever they looked. the 
kept reappearing: Ralph “The P 
Liguori, a smalltime punk who controlled 
scores of prostitutes and wielded more 
power than his reputation indicted; Ben- 
ny Spiller. a loan shark who supplied 
money for defense and fines; Tommy 
“The Bull" Pennochio, a man with a rep- 
utation for at least some financial acu- 
men, to whom much of the prostitution 
money appeared to flow; and a middle 
level organization hoodlum named David 
“Liule Davie” Betillo. For Dewey, Be- 
tillo was the key; he was known to be a 
member of the Luciano organization, 
though exactly how high up nobody 
was certai 

More and more Dewey staff members 
were assigned to the investigation. There 
scemed no doubt that а vast prostitution 


ring had been uncovered—Dewey would 
later estimate that it controlled 200 
brothels throughout the city, employed 
1000 prostitutes and grossed more than 
$12,000,000 annually. What the investiga- 
tors were determined to prove was that 
the ring did not stop with Betillo but 
reached to the very highest echelons of 
organized crime and even to Luciano him- 
self, As yet, there was no evidence of this 
nd some doubt that it could be devel- 
oped, for it seemed unlikely that anyone 
of Luciano's stature would deal directly 
with prostitutes, madams and pimps, any 
more than he would deal directly with 
underlings in any other racket 

But by сапу 1936, enough evidence 
had been developed to make an overt 
move. On February first, in coordination 
with Commissioner Valentine's special 
squads of police, Dewey's staff raided 
brothels all across the city, picking up 
more than 100 prostitutes, pimps and 
madams, and rounding up, too, Liguori, 
Pennochio. Betillo and others 

Once these low-level workers had been 


an rountdthe-clock grillings. To 
those under questioning. it soon became 
apparent that they were of no concern to 
Dewey; he was alter much bigger game— 
namely, Luciano. As potential witnesses, 
they were made some promises in ex- 
nge for a little testimon 
would talk about the ring and about 
Charlie Lucky, all charges against them 
woukl be dropped, immunity would be 
granted and. once Luciano was locked 
away, they would find that their lives 
would take a sudden change for the 
better. 

At first, Luciano himself displayed lit- 
tle concern over the stories that Dewey 
was out to get him or over the roundup 
of men like Бей, Pennochio and 
Liguori, who had worked for him in a 
variety of enterprises. That they might be 
nvolved in prostitution did not seem 
likely. The combination of the Depression 
and the end of Prohibition had sent 
scores of middle- and low-level hoodlums 
scrour for new sources of income. 
Some had gone into narcotics, others into 


i 


rested, Dewey's investigators installed prostitution and a dozen other illegal ac- 
them in rented offices and hotel suites tivities But Luciano was certain that 


231 


PLAYBOY 


232 


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ороду could link him with these morc- 
orless-independent enterprises, for, he 
strenuously maintained, no such link ex 
isted—especially with prostitution. 

So Luciano was less concerned over 
what Dewey's investigators might uncover 
concerning prostitution than with what 
they might come up with in other arcas— 
or manufacture for the purpose of prose- 
cating him. Early in March 1936, these 
suspicions were confirmed when. 
егэ revealed to Luciano that some un- 
specified charges were about to be lodged 
against him. Luciano decided not to wait 
around to find out what kind of charges 
and, one step ahcad of the detectives, he 
beat a hasty retreat to Hot Springs, Ar- 
kansas, an underworld sanctuary where 
he could relax, gamble and wait for things 
to cool off. Owney Madden and his paid- 
off politicians and police were supposed 
to sce to Шаг, 

On April second, Luciano learned сх 
actly what Dewey had in mind for him. 
A blue-ribbon grand jury in Manhattan 
indicted 12 persons for running the pros- 
titution racket. Betillo, Pennochio and 
Spiller w mong them. So 
was one Charles Lucania, as the indict- 
ment incorrectly read, charged with 90 
(later reduced to 62) counts of compul- 
sory prostitution, Dewey immediately 
nounced that Luciano was Public Enemy 
Number One in New York and demanded 
his arrest on sight. 

But Luciano was nowhere to be found. 
A Buna detective iu Hut Springs on 
another case was strolling along the Bath 
House Promenade when he came upon 
Luc 
Herbert Akers, the resort community 
chief of detectives. Word was flashed back 
to Dewey, who publicly demanded that 
Hot Springs and the state of Arkansas 
arrest Luciano and return him to New 
York for trial. Luciano was, indeed, ar- 
rested, but then released on 52000 bail 
put up by two of Madden's better casinos, 
the Southern and the Belvedere clubs. It 
was obvious he enjoyed the protection 
and the sanctuary of the city. 

Dewey was incensed. "I ca 
stand how any judge could release this 
п on bail," he said. "Luciano is regard. 
cd as the most important racketeer in 
New York, if not in the country. And the 
case involves one of the largest rackets, 
nd one of the most loathsome types of 
crimes." Embarrassed by the outcry, Ar- 
sas governor J. Marion Futrell or- 
gain, the 
cketeer was lodged in the Hot Springs 
il, but there he was given complete 
freedom of movement, use of the tele- 
phone and rooms for private conferences 
with his corps of le; visors, headed 
by a former Assistant United States Ацог- 
ney named Moses Polakoff (who would 
provide legal counsel for a host of other 
top racketcers, including Lansky, in the 
years ahead). They decided to fight ex- 


no in friendly conversation with 


n't under- 


m: 


tradition and to counter Dewey's public 
pronouncements with some of their own. 
“Back of this action is politics,” declared 
Luciano to reporters at a press confer- 
ence. “I may not be the most moral and 
upright man alive, but I have not, at any 
time, stooped to aiding prostitution. I 
have never been involved in anything 
so messy.” 
There wi 
no rem: 


stalemate. As long as Lu- 
ned in Hot Springs, there was 
little chance of extraditing him, and he 
showed no inclination to leave. Dewey 
continued to press the governor and state 
attorney general Carl E. Bailey and Ar- 
became the object of considerable 
nal scorn. Eventually, Bailey or- 
dered Luciano brought to Little Rock for 
before Governor 
Futrell. The Hot Springs sheriff refused 
to honor the order. Finally, Bailey dis- 
patched a troop of Arkansas Rangers 
with orders to storm the jail if the sheriff 
wouldn't hand over the racketeer. The 
sheriff capitulated. 

In Little Rock, Luciano tried another 
ploy to block extradition. One of hi 
underlings offered Bailey $50,000 to per- 
mit Luciano to remain in Arkansas. It 
was a bad move. At the hearing before 
the governor, Bailey stormed, "Arkansas 
cannot be made an asylum for criminals. 
Officers of Hot Springs seem to have 
issued an invitation to criminals to come 
to that city, where they are told nor to. 
worry, that they will be given protection 
and that they will not be compelled to 
return to answer for crimes committed 
elsewhere. The money these criminals 
pay for protection is blood money, from 
their murdered victims and from women. 
We are tying to make it impossible for 
that class to spend its filthy money in 
Arkansas.” 

And so Luci handcuffed, was 
shipped back to New York, where he 
soon posted $350,000 bond and began 
planning for the t y 
yers included Polakoff, George Morton 
Levy, one of the country’s most respected 

lawyers, and Francis 
who had succeeded Dewey as United 
States Attorney in New York and who 
two decades later would become New 
York Citys police commissioner. The 
trial, which lasted more than three weeks, 
begun in New York Supreme Court in 
Manhattin on May 13, 1936. In the jury 
box were 12 substantial New Yorkers. On 
the bench was a socially prominent jurist 
and symbol of moral rectitude, Justice 
Philip J. McCook. Dewey, ever eager to 
enhance his own reputation, handled the 
prosecution himself. 

The line Dewey would follow was set 
in his opening statement, “The vice in- 
dustry,” he asserted, “since Luciano took 
over, is highly organized and operates 
with businesslike precision. It will be 
proved tha 1o sat Way up at 
the top, in his apartment at the Waldorf, 


as the czar of organized crime in this 
ity. Never did Lucky or any codefendant 
actually sce or collect from the women, 
зо, though, was always in touch 
with the general details of the business. 
We will show you his function as the man 
whose word, whose suggestion, whose very 
ement ‘Do this’ was sufficient: and all 
the others in this case arc his servants.” 
And how was Dewey to prove this? Dur 
ing the three weeks devoted to the prose- 
cution’s case, he paraded 68 witnesses 
before the court. Forty were simple Ia- 
borers in the vineyards of vice who had 
never seen or heard directly from Lu 
ano, though they could point to Liguori, 
Pennochio. Betillo and most of the others 
as directly involved in the business. But 
they set а proper stage. They described 
the scamy story of prostitution, of being 
enticed into the ring, of being held al- 
most captive in brothels, of being forced 
to tum over so much of their money to 
madams, pimps, nd 
bondsmen, so that they considered them- 
selves fortunate to keep $25 а week after 
servicing scores of men every day. They 
described how they were turned on to ad- 
dictive drugs, which were then given or 
withheld as inducement to make them 
perform up to prescribed standards (and 
all declared that thanks to Dewey and 
his staff, they had received treatment 
and were now free of addict 
At first. nothing implicated Luciano: 
and he sat relaxed at ilie defendant ta 
ble and chatied easily with reporters out- 
side the courtroom. But Dewey had been 
ainstakingly creating a picture of such 
sery and degradation that the jury was 
only waiting for the first mention of Lu- 
ciano to believe g said about him. 
That word came, initially, from an іп. 
corrigible thief named Joe Bendix, 
brought down from Sing Sing. where he 
was serving a mandatory life sentence 
for a career of robbery and burglary. Lu- 
iano, he dedared, had personally of 
fered him a job as a collector for the 
prostitution ring, had boasted of how he 
controlled it 
If Bendix gained yardage for Dewey, 
Cokey Flo Brown scored at least one 
toudidown. A prostitute, madam and 
drug addict, she suddenly appeared in 
court in a shabby, ill-fitting blue dress, 
worn shoes, disheveled dark hair, looking 
like a small, lost and defenseless waif who 
had been ill used by society. She had met 
Luciano, she declared, оп a number of 


docto 


lawyers 


occasions, had been at one meeting with 
him when he asserted, “I'm gonna organ- 


ize the cat houses like the AXP,” had 
tended another when he told the whore- 
house managers to use strong-arm meth- 
ods to bring the madams, bookers and 
girls into line. “First you got to sit on 
them," Cokey Flo quoted Luciano, “then 
you got to step on them. Talking won't 
do no good. You got to put the screws 


on.” He had. she said, ordered the girls 
threatened, beaten, forced to use narcot- 
ics. The points Cokey Flo scored mounted 
when she would not be shaken under 
crossexamination. 

And more points were scored by ? 
Presser, a faded belle who 
the profession at 13, had risen to high 
cd callgirl and mistress of Gordon, 
Schultz, Adonis, Masseria and more, and 
had at last fallen into the hands of Liguo- 
ri who had lodged her as a common 
laborer in a two-dollar Harlem cr 
Luciano, she asserted, was an old and 
close friend, and he had rescued her from 
this low point in her life, calling her onc 
day and summoning her to his Waldorf 
Towers suite for the first of many visits. 
“When Charlie called me over. he'd gi 
me a hundred dollars, but we'd just talk. 
That's all. We never went to bed." Dur- 
ing her hours with Luciano in his bed- 


conversations with Betillo and 
others about the prostitution ring. 

If all this sounded somewhat unlikely, 
Dewey was prepared to demonstrate that 
Nancy was telling the truth. He led her 
through a detailed description of the Lu- 
ciano quarters, including the furniture 
and the arrangements. But during cross- 
ion, Nancy's сус for finc detail 
proved to be somewhat astigmatic and 
her memory more t le muddled 
Her description of the suite was at con- 
lcrable bh йиз truc ar 
rangement hes not an interior 
decorator” was the way Dewey dismissed 
that problem). And then there was her 
testimony that she had entered and left 
the Waldorf Towers late at night on all 
her many visits without ever sceing any 


examina 


employees, without ever being stopped 
nyone; she had just 
and 


and questioned by 
walked in, gotten on the elevator 
ridden up to the 39th floor. TI 
surprising, since the hotel manager test 
fied to the Waldorf's tight security ar 
rangements; there was always somebody 
on duty inside the entrance and all 
visitors were checked and announced be- 
fore being permitted to enter. And then, 
not only was Nancy unable to describe 
the hotel or the location of the eleva- 
tors, she wasn't even quite sure where die 
Waldorf was, except somewhere on the 
East Side near Park Avenue 

Did this damage Dewey's case? Not at 
all. The jury and the judge seemed more 
concerned with the personal plight of 
Miss Presser than with what was being 
done to her story. 

To some observers at the time, and to 
many who examined the court records 
ater, the case against Lucitno—if not 
against Betillo and the other code- 
fendants—was beginning to emit an of 
fensive odor. That odor became even 
ranker when Dewey led witness after wit- 
ness into declaring that she had been 


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234 


threatened if she testified against Luci- 
ano, and the court, over strenuous de- 
fense objections, let those statements go 
into the record and the jury's ears. And it 
was ranker yet when Frank Brown, ап 
assistant. nager of the Barbizon Plaza, 
where Luciano had lived as Charles 
Lane, was called as a prosecution witness. 
He crossed up Dewcy, declaring that he 
had been intensely interrogated by 
Dewey staff members who demanded 
that he identify photographs of the other. 
defendants as frequent callers on Luci- 
ano. Brown testified that when he could 
not do so, one of the Dewey staffers 
“warned me about jail if I didn't tell the 
truth. There were three or four in the 
room. They were very insistent about my 
identifying the pictures. When I said I 
couldn't do it honestly, they threatened 
me. They hinted that Mr. Dewey was 
very powerful and could do as he liked." 
But the blue-ribbon jury preferred to 
believe the testimony presented by the 
prosecutor and not the holes poked in it 
оп cross-examination or the complete de- 
1 by Luciano. Indeed, Luciano turned 
out to be his own worst witness, being 
forced by Dewey to admit a life of crime 
and association with almost every notori- 
ous underworld figure in the country. If 
the jury retained any doubts, they were 
dispelled by both Dewey and Justice 
McCook. In his seven-hour summation, 
Dewey accused the defense of using every 
trick and “all their evil means” to break 
duwa the testimony of his witnesses be 
cause “they dare not face the truth." Lu- 
ciano, he dedared, had committed “a 
shocking, disgusting display of sancti- 
monious perjury—at the end of which I 
am sure not one of you had a doubt that 
before you stood not a gambler, not a 
bookmaker, but the greatest gangster in 
America.” McCook drove the final spike, 


telling the jury that it did not need to 


find that Luciano had ever dealt direct- 
ly with the prostitutes, madams or any- 
one else in order to find guilty— 
only that he had in some manner received 
some of the proceeds of prostitution. And 
then, to show his own feelings, he œn- 
cluded, "The crimes of which these men 
arc accused are vicious and low and those 
who would aid and abet such crimes are 
not to be met in polite society. 

Within six hours, the jury's verdict was 
in: guilty on all counts. McCook sen- 
tenced Luciano to 30 to 50 years in state 
prison, the longest sentence ever handed 
down for prostitution, 

In what can only be considered an 
arrogant confession, Dewey afterward 
crowed, “This, of course, was not a vice 
trial, Jt was a racket prosecution. The 
control of all organized prostitution in 
New York by the convicted defendants 
was one of their lesser rackets. . . . The 
prostitution racket was merely the vehicle 
by which these men were convicted." 

The question of whether Dewey 


there was black humor in the 
tommy gun’s corporate motto: 
“on the side of law and order” 


When the Thompson submachine gun 
was introduced in 1921, military-weap- 
ons experts acclaimed it as a triumph of 
American ordnance technology. Police 
officials marveled at its size and fire- 
power and predicted that it would ei- 
ther kill or cure the country's gunmen, 
rioters and “motorized bandits.” Five 
years later, a Collier's writer described it 
less approvingly: “This Thompson sub- 
machine gun is nothing les than а 
diabolical engine of death . . . the para- 
mount example of peacetime harbarism 
. . the diabolical acme of human in- 
genuity in man's effort to devise a 
mechanical contrivance with which to 
murder his neighbor.” Over the next 
ten years, the “tommy gun" became 
synonymous with crime and violence 
and earned itself an enduring place 
the national folklore as the gangster 
equivalent of the cowboy's six-shooter. 

‘This was hardly the future that Ge: 
eral John Taliaferro Thompson had 
envisioned for the invention that bore 
his name. An aristocratic oldJine Army 
officer, Thompson conceived the original 
“submachine” gun during World War 
One in the belief that a small, hand- 
held, fully autom: on would en- 
able Allicd infantrymen to break the 


The submachine gun as originally conceived 
in 1917 for storming German trenches. 


Completed in 1918, the first Thompson gun 
used ammunition belts instead of clips. 


isplays the Model 
buttstock removed. 


General John Thompson 
1921 tommy gun 


stalemate on the Western Front. But 
the first successful model of the gun was 
not completed until the fall of 1918— 
too late for the war but just in time to 
play a bloody role in two of the coun- 
шу' most lawless decades. 

With a small fortune already invested 
in arms development, Thompsons u 
pany, the Auto-Ordnance Corporation 
of New York, put its faith in the po- 
lice and military markets and con- 
tracted with the venerable Colt’s Patent 
Fire Arms Manufacturing Company to 
build 15,000 submachine guns, model 
of 1921. The Thompson was, after all, 
2 unique and revolutionary weapon: a 
machine gun weighing only ten pounds 
and firing 45-caliber pistol cartridges 
at a rate of about 800 rounds per min- 
ute. It used either a straight magazine 
carrying 20 rounds or drum magazines 
holding 50 or 100. It had the careful 
workmanship, the blued finish and the 
graceful walnut stocks of a sporting 
firearm, which made it all the more 

Auto-Ordnance 
tion machine gun 
and semi-automatic shoulder rifle 
the form of a pistol"—an "anti-bandit 
gun that could either cut a fleeing bank 
robber's car to pieces with copper- 
jacketed slugs or “humanely” disperse 
labor rioters with special bird-shot car- 
tridges. In short, anything a rifle, pistol 
or shotgun could do, the Thompson 
could do better. 

Despite extrav: 
motion, the submachine gun was a com- 
mercial flop. The military decided it was 
wonderfully conceived but tactically 
useless, and police had sober second 
thoughts on the wisdom of sweeping 


nt claims and pro- 


city streets with machine; 
dits or no. At this point, the Thompson 
might quietly have joined the ranks of 
other inventions whose time had not 
yet come. It was saved from obscurity 
mainly by the outbreak of Chic 
gangland "beer wars" in 1925-1926, 
which called for a weapon combining 
portability, concealability and fircpow- 

hese happened to be the card 
virtues of the tommy gun, which also 
had the coincidental virtue of being 
completely. leg the laws 
that many cities had enacted to control 
handguns did not apply to machine 
guns which traditionally werc heavy, 
cumbersome devices of interest only to 


The Thompson Submachine Gun 
‘The Mos Effective Portebla Fire Arm In Essence 


the military. This meant that a Chi- 
cagoan, for example, could not legally 
buy or carry а pistol without a police 
permit, but for $175 he could walk into 
any well-stocked gunshop and walk out 
with a submachine gun, no questions 
asked. 

If the “chopper” was discovered and 
popularized by big-city bootleggers who 
routinely riddled one another in am- 
bushes and massacres, it acquired even 
greater notoriety in the hands of John 
Dillinger, Baby Face Nelson, Machine 
Gun Kelly, Pretty Boy Floyd and other 
Depression desperadoes who terrorized 
and titillated the country with sensa- 
tional bank robberies and mainstreet 
gu aules. This kind of violence was 
more disturbing than gangland assassi- 
ions and, by the late Thirties, strict. 
state and Federal laws were gradually 
taking the Thompson out of general 
circulation 

Despite widespread rumors that the 
tommy-gun company was getting rich 
and even supplying big-name gangsters 
with free samples for promotional pur- 
poses, by the late Thirties the Auto- 
Ordnance Corporation was moribund, 
and had been for several years. More 


than a third of the original 15,000 guns 
still languished in a Сој warehouse 
and John Thompson, retired and in 
failing health, was sorely regretting 
that he'd ever conceived such a weapon. 
He took little comfort in the 
the country's police departme 
the FBI had adopted the gun—th 
done so mainly in self-defense. Nor was 
he consoled that the Marines had bought 
a few hundred for use in Nicaragua, that 
the Navy was placing it on gunboats or 
that the Army, at long last, had adopted 
it аз a special-purpose weapon. Shortly 
before he died in 1940, at the age of 79, 
"Thompson wrote a melancholy letter to 
‘Theodore Eickhoff, one of the three 
young men who had built the first 
working model of the gun in 1918: 


1 have given my valedictory to 
arms, as I want to pay more atten- 
tion now to saving human life tha 
destroying it. May the deadly 
T.S. M.G. always “speak for" God 
and Country. Jt has worried me 
that the gun has been so stolen by 
evil men and used for purposes out- 
side our motto, “On the side of law 
and order.” 

A few months earlier, the Auto- 
Ordnance Corporation had fallen into 
the hands of Russell Maguire, a shady 
Connecticut financier who had per- 
suaded the estate of Thomas Fortune 
Ryan, the deceased majority stock- 
holder, to sell him the controlling in- 
terest for $529,000—less than halt the 
retail value of the unsold guns and 
accessories. To Maguires credit, he 
foresaw—as the 1075. British and 
French armies had not—the value of 
the submachine-type weapons that were 


The 1920 prototype gun hed no buttstock 
and fired at a rate of 1500 shots per minute. 


already proving so effective in the hands 
of German blitzkrieg troops. He con- 
tracted with the Savage Arms Corpora- 
ion to put the Thompson back into 
production and began building his 
own factory. By the end of 1910, every 
Allied army was clamoring for subma- 
chine guns and Maguire's long-obsolete 
Thompson was the only one in town, 
During World War Two, he sold al- 
nost 2,000,000 guns for $130,000,000, 
becoming a multimillionaire and a wa 
time celebrity as America's fusighted 
and patriotic “Tommy Gun Tycoon. 

WILLIAM J. HELMER 


suborned perjury to convi 
never been resolved. Luciano himself 
maintained to the end of his life that 
while he was involved in many kinds of 
crime, prostitution was not one of them; 
that he had been framed by a prosecutor 
who could get him no other way. Luci 
ano's statement may be self-serving, but 
some persons close to Dewey in those days 
have privately indicated that Luciano's 
contention is very close to the truth. 


Further, there are some pieces of circum. 
stantial evidence supporting t 
witnesses. 


The 
testified — damagingly 
indeed, well re- 


who 


couple of the other 
pense of the state, for 
ons to Europe, retun 
only with the outbreak of the war. All 
would, a few years after the trial, declare 
n depositions obtained by Lucia 
lawyers, that they had lied on the stand 
and that they had been prepared and re- 
hearsed in those lies by Dewey's stall. Lhe 
appeals courts, however, preferred to 
credit th al testimony and not 
their retractions. 

Dewey could take pleasure in the way 
the case enhanced his own reputation 
providing him a springboard to higher 
and higher office. And the city could 

some satisfaction in the fact that the 
underworld’s board. chairman scemed to 
he out of commission, locked far away i 
Clinton State Prison in Dannemora, New 
York. Yet even from his cell, Luciano. 
continued to rule, to give orders, to 
maintain his power. He left behind an efi- 
cient and. powerful organization and he 
left it in the care of some very efficient 
manapers—Adonis, who was the link with 
the Italian underworld; Costello, who 
J worlds; and Lansky, who was 
the link between the national Syndicate. 
and Adonis, 

Vito Genovese might have been onc of 
the heirs, but Don Vitone, as he was 
often called, had too many troubles of 
his own. As one of Luciano's chief lieu 
tenants and already one of the biggest 
narcotics dealers in the underworld, he 
was next on Dewey's list for prosecution. 

Ironically, what really spelled trouble 
for Genovese was a smalltime badger 
game. As Joe Valachi and others have de- 
tailed, soon after his return from а hon- 
cymoon trip to his native Italy—he had 
fallen in love with Anna Petillo and 
then murdered her husband so he could 
marry her—Genovese had been brought 
a supersucker by a smalliime pu 
named Ferdinand “The Shadow" Bocci 
The sucker, a Brooklyn merchant, was 
lured into a card game with Genovese 
and a fellow thug named Michele 
"Mike" Miranda, who would later rise 
high in the Genovese underworld family. 
‘They took their victim for $60,000, then 


235 


PLAYBOY 


offered him a chance to recoup: They 
would sell him a machine for $100,000 
that manufactured real ten-dollar bills. 
The idiot bought it and Genovese was 
ahead $160,000. 

Then Boccia came around, looking for 
the one-third cut he had been promised 
for setting up the deal. Genovese, who 
sometimes made the penny-pinching 
Schultz look like a spendthrift, decided 
on a different 


Rupolo to 
. Then he 
5175 to kill Gallo. Rupolo. 
unequal to the task, man: 
wound Gallo in two wies. Understand- 
ably put out, Gallo turned Rupolo in to 
the cops and then gave testimony that sent 
him away on a nine-ro-20.year sentence. 
‘This was all quite upsetting to Geno- 
хехе. Dewey was after him on a number 
of grounds, Ru- 
polo, in the solitude of his prison cell, 
might consider revealing the whole Восс 
murder plot. С + decided to take a 
ion. He packed $750,000 and some 


ging only to 


a 


dotes in a black satchel, kissed Anna 
goodbye and boarded a ship for Italy. 
с he hoped to find sanctuary with 

the friends he had made on an earliei 
vip. friends who were high in Mussolini's 
novese envisioned only 
„ but he reckoned without 
world events that would extend his visit 
to 1945 and deprive Dewey of this trophy- 
But the fight of Genovese was merely 
an annoyance; in 1937, the ambitious 
prosecutor, on the strength of his Luciano 
conviction, was elected Manhattan dis- 
uia акопе ı die dink 
nd Genovese in Dewey set his 
sights on the next biggest gangster in New 
York, Louis “Lepke” Buchalter. But what 
would emerge from the Lepke investiga- 
tion would surprise and shock not oni 
y citizens but even the most 
cuted law-enforcement officials. 
And it would add а new name to the 
American lexicon: Murder, Incorporated. 


This is the sixth in a series of articles on 
organized crime in the United States. 


* Don't you have 
any words of wisdom for PLAYBOY'S 
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but don’t break it. Wrap it wp and 


I'll take it 


MR. MORLEY, 0 ЖАША 

(continued from page 130) 
as we thought again, his death. Then 
about three months later, my husband 
and I went to dinner at the home of the 
police commissioner. The meal began 
with spaghetti soufflé.” 

I asked her about problems confront. 
ing white Kenyans these days and she 
thought cattle rustling was as serious as 
any. The whole farming economy is un- 
dermined by the necessity of enclosing 
the stock every evening. It means cows 
can't be left out to pasture but have to be 
driven into pounds. Their grazing is in- 
terrupted and the milk yield and growth 
rate are far lower than they should be. 
When cattle are stolen, the farmer must 
do everything possible to recover his 
bea otherwise he will lose more of 
them next time. The thieves have to be 
acked, sometimes for weeks, and all 
work on the farm comes to 3 stand- 
nd when the cattle are found they 
have to bc driven home and they lose 
more weight in the process. 

companion was one of the few 
white Kenyans 1 met who didn’t seem af 
fronted by the way things were goi 
The others always prefaced their opin- 
ions by confiding how long they had 
lived in Kenya. They felt a peculiar sense 
of injustice at the n; lism they were 
now encountering. Whatever their ani- 
tude had been before independence, they 
no longer dapped their hands and shout 
ed for Charley. When they spoke to their 
. they almost wl 
couching them 
reasonable terms in which one might ad- 
dress a difficult seven-year-old. "Don't 
scream,” they seemed to be pl 
“and don't stamp your foot, but just run. 
along like a good boy and see 


be fun, now 

How much fun the Africans have these 
js difficult. 10 assess. The women 
1 lives of incredible austerity: cach 
су must walk miles in search of 


day 
firewood and to fetch water from the 


communal tap. They also must do the 
housework amd till the fields and mind 
the herds and contrive at the same time 
to dress elegantly and to carry their 
youngest on their back, 

For men, life is easier. Unless, that is. 
they elect to work in the hotels, where 
they must watch the guests waste the 
bath water and leave the food untouched 
on their plates. What do they think of 
the luxury in which we wallow, com- 
pared with the deprivation and under- 
own folk? I asked 
the proprietor of Leisure Lodge, argu- 
ably the most comfortable and certainly 
the most beautiful hotel in Kenya. He 
told me that the African wasn't under- 
nourished, that most Europeans were far 
from clean and only with the greatest 


reluctance would he be willing to en- 
tertain one in his home. This was p 
ticularly true of hippies, whose physical 
presence nauseated him, 

According to the proprietor, his staff 
had no need to work; they were all pos- 
sessed of small holdings that brought 
them adequate incomes. They worked 
order to pay for more wives. The acqui: 
tion of wives was a complicated and 
lengthy game. "It is played," he ex- 
plained, “rather like Monopoly.” 

“But if you were an African awakened 
in the night by your child crying for a 
drink of water, how would you feel if you 
knew the nearest tap was five miles aw 
I asked. “Would you go yourself? Would 
you send your wife?” 

I would wake my wife,” he told me, 
ind she would give the child a coconut 
or a glass of goat’s milk, Very few Afr 
cans drink water." 
ure whether I believed. him 
or not. I recalled the experience of one 
settler who had taken his head cattle 
man, a Masai tribesman, to the Royal 
Show in London last summer. After two 
days he was asked what had struck him 
most forcibly. “Those taps,” he said, “all 
those taps.” 

"There is a man called Donovan Maule, 
an actor like myself, who went to Nairobi 
after the last war and decided to stay 
and found a stock company. Curiously 
enough, he made a fortune, retired and 
built himself and his wife a bungalow on 
a uech aca Mombasa, The cheater is 
now run by his daughter. They still play 
Rattigan and Coward and Priestley and 
Maugham, but the heart and the profit 
have gone out of the business. “A lot of 
our patrons have had to pack up and go 
home. They don't like it. you know; Fn; 
land isn’t what it was, any more than thi 
place. What they dread most is haying to 
retire to somewhere like Canterbury.” 
He poured me another gin and slapped 
his wrist. “We don’t get mosquitoes here, 
you know.” 

"Nor in terbury," I told him, but he 
seemed unconvinced. 
was once called the White 
hlands, beyond the Aberdare moui 
gc, the British still farm the land, 
but no longer with the confidence they 
used to display when the Mau Mau was 
round and each settler had a gun at the 

ady. They have pur their guns away 
but still greet the stranger on thi 
with caution. They know that his 
case hides no fearsome machete, but more 
probably just a letter from the president, 
himself, inquiring in the politest possible 
manner whether perhaps the present 
owner might care to sell his propert 
After that, of course, it's only a matter 
of time before Canterbury, or a bungalow. 
near Mombasa, becomes a reality. 

‘The mission pilot was on his honey- 
moon and lived in Abyssinia. He was the 
only man I saw in Africa actually eat 
coconut and he did it with expert. ease, 


even producing a bowl for the milk. He 
had been married only three days, which 
was perhaps why, in true African fashion, 
he neglected to offer his wife any until 
he had almost finished it, There was 
plenty of coconut meat for both of them, 
and as he munched, he explained why he 
found it necessary to spend an hour on 
his knees each week, specifically asking 
the Almighty to put an end to the per- 
missive society in West London. 

“Are you praying for a holocaust?” I 
asked him. 

“If necessary.” 

“Tell me, I urged, "about Addis 
Ababa. Is it true the penalty for stealing 
is to cut off a hand?" 

"Sometimes. 

“My goodness" I told him, "I 
wouldn't like to see that sort of thing in 
Britain. Think of the number of onc- 
armed shoppers you'd meet. I think I 
prefer the permissive socicty." 

On my last night in Africa, I hired а 
launch in order to inspect the carmine 
bee eaters. raordinary birds, which 
look like psychedelic starlings, who 
choose to roost cach evening in one par- 
ticular clump of mango trees thrce or 
four miles upstream from the creek on 
which stands the Mnarani Country Club. 
The club is an elegant establishment, 
much patronized by big-game fishermen 
and, especially, the present Lady Dela- 
mere. The murder case in which her hus- 
band. Delves Broughton, was tried and. 
acquitted of the killing of "Boy" Errol in 
the Fifties still provokes raised eyebrows 
and lowered voices wherever two or three 
Kenyans are gathered together with а 
stranger who will listen to the tale. 

Upstream, we dawdled by the river- 
bank. I was convinced the boatman was 


uncertain which mango clump harbored 
the birds. But no, it was too early and 
they hadn't yet arrived, Meanwhile, he 
showed me huge pelicans perched in ban- 
yan trees and egrets fishing from the 
bank and sea eagles circling above and, 
rounding a bend of the river, a village 
built on the mud flats with children call- 

ng us to come closer and be inspected 
for cigarettes. My boatman ignored them 
and, turning the boat suddenly, brought 
us back downstream, He's lost, I told 
myself, we'll not find them now, it will 
be too dark to эсс. Then suddenly the 
carmine bee caters came swooping and 
soaring, settling for a moment and then 
flying away, and returning, and all the 
time the beat of their wings and the 
sound of their voices filled the air with 


This is Africa, T told myself. This i 
what I came to see, and wondered if it 
was true that these were the only carmine 
bee caters in the world and this the only 
mango swamp they patronized. But wher 
it was quiet again and darkness fell and 
we journeyed back downstream to the 
country club, I found myself considering 
for the 100th time the riddle of Delves 
Broughtor 

The rip-roaring days are over for the 
British. Now they walk abroad as deli- 
cately as the Japanese. In Kenya, they 
are remembered, but without gratitude. 
"They n example of incormptibility 
in the administration that has not been 
followed. They planted sisal and grew 
groundnuts and became croppers. They 
left Kenya no richer than they found it, 
but look, an African will tell you, look 
what they got out of it for themselves. 


237 


238 


AND GOD CREATED WOMAN 
"The movie is called Take Off and it shows a San Francisco stripper 
doing her thing—except that after she’s peeled off her clothes, 
she proceeds to remove her head, her legs, etc., until she's just a torso, 
floating off into space. The idca of the film—made by a Bay Area 
lady, Gunvor Nelson—is to show just how dehumanizing a striptease 
can be. It's one of three flicks available on a rental basis ($100 for a single 
showing) from Polymorph Films, 331 Newbury Street, Boston, Massa- 
chusetts, under the encompassing title Films About Women. (The others 
are Six Film-Makers in Search of a Wedding and How to Make a Woman.) 
‘According to Alvin Fiering at Polymorph, Films About Women isa 
feminist-consciousness-raising package, ideal for meetings of your friendly 
neighborhood women’s libbers, and not for chauvinist-pig parties. Oink! 


SOB STORY 


Remember how, way back in 1952, an eager young fellow who just 
happened to be running for a high political office was viciously accused of 
taking illegal campaign gifts? Remember how he went on TV and made 
us all weep for him when he told us all about his daughters’ cute doggy, 
Checkers? Remember how he made everything perfectly dear? Remember 
how we all forgave him? Well, that was ages ago and things are much 
different now, right? But in case you want to refresh your memory, 

The Center (P. O. Box 157, East Elmhurst, New York) will send you a 
printed copy of this landmark American soap opera for only a buck. 
Chances are, you won't weep this time around. 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI 


people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement 


SHIP SHOPPING 
Invest ten dollars for a three-year mem- 
bership in Air and Marine Travel's Drop 
of the Hat Freighter Club (501 Madison 
Avenue, New York City) and what you'll 
get is first crack at using certain ship- 
‘owners’ suites—should management decide 
not to make the next voyage. Or, if you'd 
just like to do some reading on whither 
various cargo ships wander, send two 
bucks for the latest freighter guide. 


CHICKEN SOUP TO NUTS 
Have they got a deal for you! Mrs. Greene 
and Mrs. Brown make up the staff of 
Renta Yenta (Р. O. Box 415, Tarzana), a 
new California-based outfit that will 
do almost any cockamamic thing you 
want it to, as long as it's legal— 
anything from deghosting a haunted 
house to teaching your parakeet to 
speak French to arranging blimp rides. 
And you don't even have to be Jewish. 


JANUARY IS 
DELICIOUS 

Tt would seem there's a 
calendar for every subject from 
male nudes to horticulture— 
but would you believe one on 
recycling? Yes, environmen- 
talists everywhere, the next 12 
are your months when you 
hang up Eat January, a calen- 
dar available from Resource 
Planning Associatcs, 44 Drattle 
Street, Cambridge, Massachu- 
setts, for $5. Each month is 
a crash course in various recy- 
cling problems and most are 
reusable, Pass the salt, please. 


SAIL AWAY 
Now that bicycling has become 
one of the popular ways 
to get a little exercise, some- 
body's come up with a device 
that does away with almost 
all the work: the Viking 
Bicycle Sail Company (P. О. 
Box 603, Oregon City, 
Oregon). With the dlear-vinyl 
sail attached to your handle 
bars, you can cast your fate to 
the wind practically without 
moving a muscle. The sail 
can also be adapted for use 
with ice skates, skis, canoes, 
kayaks and inner tubes, and 
it's yours for $22 postpaid. But 
will it power a wheelchair? 


JANUARY 


SMTWTEFS 


2 
6 7 8 9 1011 12 
13 14 15 16 17 18 19 
20 21 22 23 24 25 26 
27 28 29 30 31 


NADER'S NADIR 


There must be as many ways of getting high 
as there are folks who want to. But there's 
only one way to know just how high you 
really are, and that’s by using an altimeter. 
Until recently, such devices were too 

bulky to tote about, but now the AGA 
Corporation, 550 County Avenue, 

Secaucus, New Jersey, has lightened your 
Joad with its Swiss pocket model 

that sells for $79. Head for the hills! 


Art Herschberger of Solar Automotive in Princeton, Wisconsin, 
knows a bad thing when he sees one. That's why his business is 
converting nasty old Corvairs into fast, luxurious Cavaliers. 
Sound crazy? Maybe, but Cavalier owners swear by their 300-hp 
engines—and additional options range from water injection 

to Rallye mirrors. Furthermore, you can take in your own 

Corvair or pick one of Art's reconditioned babies. Prices range 
from $4000 to $7000, depending on options. For a Corvair? 


WHO REMEMBERS WORLD WAR II? 
Just when you were getting into Fifties nostal- 
gia, Kenneth Waissman and Maxine Fox, the 
producers of Grease, are asking you to turn back 
the hands of time one more decade. Beginning 
February 27, the two living legendary Andrews 
Sisters, Patty and Maxene, will open on 
Broadway in an original Forties-era musical 
called Over Here, which, we're told, is about 
"two sisters who run a home-front U.S. O. 
canteen for boys in uniform.” We're hep! 


239 


Daddy, you're making him nervous.” 
Culp told her. “I am nol nervous." 
Polly told her, “I can't keep holding 

ао 


Baby. You just went less than ап 
hour ago.” 

"Fm nervou: 

Culp laughed. Laura said, “You 
funny. You're not а baby anymore. 

Polly said, “Yeah and you're not a 
wife, either. 

Silence. 
iobody said I was." 
la spun by. Sarah stepped out of 

their old Corvair convertible, 
g a one-piece bathing suit. Her 
hair was stiff and sun-bleached and wild. 
She was eating a hot dog loaded with 
relish, Culp Jooked closer and there was 
sand in her ear, as in a delicate discov- 
cred shell. 

Polly announced, “1 
a place in three miles. ‘Soft Drinks, 
Sandwiches, Beer, Ice and § 

“slots, slots,” Laura spit, furious for a 
reason that eluded her father. “Slots and 
sluts, that's all there is in this dumb 
st 


PLAYBOY 


not 


e. 
Culp asked, "Didn't you enjoy Reno?" 
“I hated it. What I hated especially 

was Mom acting on the make all the 

me.” 

On the make, sluls—the language of 

women living together, it occurred to 

im, coarsens like that of men in the 

Army. He mildly corrected, “I'm sure 

she wasn't on the make, she was just 

happy to be rid of me." 

"Don't you kid yourself, Dad. She was 
on the make, Even with Jim about to 
show up she 

"Yeah, well," Polly said, "you weren't 
that pure yourself, showing off for that 
Mexican boy.” 

1 wasn't showing off for any bunch. 

of spicks, I was practicing my diving and 

I suggest you do the same, you toad. You 

look like a sick frog, the way you go off 

the board. A sick fat frog. 

‘Yeah, well. Mommy said you weren't 

so thin at my age yourself." 

Culp intervened: “I's nice to be 
plump at your age. Otherwise, you won't 


have to shape up when you're 
Laura’s age. 

Polly giggled, scandalized. Laura said, 
"Don't flirt, Dad," and crossed her 


thighs; she was going to be one of those 


women, Culp vaguely saw, who have 


from 


legs. She smoothed back the h 
her brow in a gesture that tripped ће 
home-movie camera again. Sarah before 
the mirror, He could have driven for- 
if he had known Nevada 

was so easy, he could have planned to 
240 reach the Utah line, or detoured north 


NEVADA шыг irom pose 


to some ghost towns. But they ha 
reservations in Elko, and stopped. The 
hotel was three stories high; on thc 
ground floor a cavernous dark casino 
glimmered with thc faces of the slots 
and the shiny uniforms of the change 
girls. Though it was only three in the 
afternoon, Culp wanted to go in there, 
to get a drink at the bar, where the 
bottles glowed like a row of illumined 
stalagn But his daughters, after in- 
specting their rooms, dragged him out 
into the sunshine. Elko was a flat town 
full of space, as airy with emptiness as a 
honeycomb. The broad street in front of 
the hotel held гайг tracks in its cen- 
ter. To Polly's amazed delight, a real 
h in scale but docile in 
terialized on these tracks, 
halted, ruminated. and then ponder- 
ously, thoughtfully dragged westward its 
chuckling infinity of freight cars. They 
walked down sun-struck sidewalks, past 
a drunken Indian dressed in clothes 
black as his shadow, to a museum of 
mining. Polly coveted the glinting 
nuggets. Laura yawned before a сазе of 
old-fashioned barbed wire 
her reflec the glass, Ci 
upon an exhibit, between Indi 
and pioneer hardware, incongruously 


devoted to Thomas Alva Edison. He 
and Sarah and the girls, driving home 
from a Sunday on the beach at Red 


Bank, would puss a service island on the 
Jersey Turnpike named for Edison. They 
would stop for supper at another one, 
named for Joyce Kilmer. The tar on the 
parking lot would sting their bare fect. 
A peppery smell of carbon waste and 
butane in the air. Sarah would go in for 
her hot dog wearing her dashiki beach 
wrapper—hip length, with slits for her 
naked arms. Her arms would be burned 
pink in the crooks. The sun would have 
ignited a conflagration of douds beyond 
the great Esso tanks, Here, in Elko, the 
sun rested gently on the overexposed 
purple of the ridges around them. On 
ighest ridge a large letter E had 
a somehow cut, or inset, in what 
ned limestone. Polly asked why. 
nswered, "I suppose for 


air- 


ra amplified, “If they don't put 
initials up, the pilots can't tell the towns 
apart, they're all so boring. 

“I like Elko,” Polly said. “I wish we 
lived here.” 

Yeah, what would Daddy do for a 
living?" 

This was hard. In real life, he was a 
chemical engineer for a conglomerate 
that was planning to exploit Colorado. 
shale. Polly said, "He could fix slot ma- 
chines and then at night come back in 


г the future, that this peaceful 
Nevada nowhere was all the future they 
had. He took Pollys hand, crossing the 
railroad tracks though the tracks were 
arrow straight and по train was materi- 
alizing between here and the horizon. 

Laura flustered him by taking h 
as they walked into the dining room, 
which adjoined the dark grotto of slo 
an expectant р] 
the child, after he had ordered a drink 
for himself. “No. She's only sixteen. 

When the waitress had gone, Laura 
told him, “Everybody says I look older 
than sixteen Reno with Mom, I used 
to wander around in the places and no- 
body ever said anything. Except one old 
fart who told me they'd put him in jail 
I didn't go away." 

Polly asked, "Daddy, when're you go- 
ing to play the slots?” 
“I thought I'd wait till after dinner.” 

“That's too long. 

y now. Just until the 
He took a mouthful of h 
drink, pushed up from the table and fed 
ten quarters into a machine Polly could 
D 
there, amid the machines’ warm and 
peruous colors, consoled him. Expo 
menting, he pressed the button. marked 
пі in a red uniform crin- 
kling like embers came to his side in- 
quisitively. Her (асс, though not old, 
had the Western dryness—eyes smoth- 
ered in charcoal, mouth tightened as if 
about to say, J thought so. But some- 
thing sturdy and hollow-backed in her 
stance touched Culp, gave him an intui- 
tion. Her uniform's devilish cut. bared 
her white arms to the shoulder. He gave 
her a fivedollar bill to change into qı 
ters. The waitress was bringing th 
Heavy in one pocket, he returned to the 
table. 

“Poor Dad,” Laura volunteered. “That 
prostitute really turned him on.’ 
, I'm not sure you know what 
2 prostitute is." 

“Mom said every woman is a prosti- 
tute, one way or another.” 

“You know your mother exaggerate: 

“I know she's a bitch, you mean. 


arm 


atch. Though he won nothing, being 


Dad. Look what she’s done to 
you. Now she'll do it to Jim.” 

"You and I have different memories 
of your mother. You don’t remember her 
when you were lite 

“1 don't want to live with her, either. 
When we all get back to Denver, I want 
e with you. If she and I live togeth- 
er, itll always be competing, that’s how 


“I believe your firm can use aman like me, sir. l'm young, 
aggressive, and I won't take no for an answer!” 


PLAYBOY 


“Must have cost him a fortune!” 


it was in Reno; who needs it? When 7 
get to forty, I'm going to tell my Jover to 
shoot mi 

Polly cried out; an astonishing noise, 
like the crash of a jackpot. "Stop it” she 
told Laura. "Stop talking big. That's all 
you do, is talk big." The child. salad 


dressing gleaming on her chin, pushed 
her voice toward her sister through 
tears: "You want Monmy and Daddy to 


fight all the time instead of love cach 
other even though they are divorced." 

With an amused smile, Laura tamed 
her back on Polly's outburst and patted 
Culp's arm. “Poor Dad," she said. “Poor 
old Dad." 

Iheir steaks came, у 
dried. They walked out into Elko aj 
and at the town’s one movie theater saw 


a Western. Burt Lancaster, а down- 
trodden Mexican, after many insults, 
including crucifixion, turned implacable 


242 avenger and killed nine hirelings of a 


racist rancher. Polly seemed to be sleep- 
ing through the bloodiest parts. They 
walked back through the dry night to the 
hotel, Their two adjoining rooms each 
held twin beds. Laura’s suitcase had 
appeared on the bed beside his. 

Culp said, “You better sleep with your 
sister 

“Why? We'll leave the door between 
open, in cise she has nightmares.” 

“I want to read. 
So do 1." 
fou go to sleep now. We're going to 
make Salt Lake tomorrow.” 

“Big thrill. Dad, she mumbles 
kicks her covers all the time.” 

“Do love. ГЇЇ stay here reading 
you're asleep.” 
And then what? 

"I may go down and have 
drink.” 

Her expresion reminded him of how, 
movie, the villain had looked 
ncaster showed that he, 


and 


nother 


in the 
when Burt 


too, had a gun. Culp lay on the bedspread 
reading a pamphlet they had bought at 
the museum about ghost towns. Cham 
pagne and opera sets had been trans 
ported up the valleys where now not a 
mule survived. Train whistles at intervals 
scooped long pockets from the world 
beyond his room. The breathing from 
the other room had fallen level. He tip- 
toed in and saw them both asleep, his 
daughters. Relaxed. Laura's face re- 
vealed its freckles, its plumpness. the 
sorrowing stretched smoothness of the 
closed lids. Polly's face wore a film of 
night sweat on her brow; his kiss came 
away tasting salty. He did mot kiss 
Laura. in case she was faking. He 
witched off the light and stood consid- 
ering what he must do. A train howled 
on the other side of the wall. The beau- 
tiful emptiness of Nevada, where he 
might never be again, sucked at the 
room like a whirlpool. 

Downstairs, his intuition borne 
out. The change girl had noticed him, 
and said “I thought so." 
er go off duty?” 
duty?” 
ed at the bar, waiting for the 
fill him; it couldn't, 
room inside him kept expanding, 


was 


ON 


bourbon to the 
and 
. after two, sidling 
up on the stool (a cowboy moved over) 
n a taut cotton dress that hid the tops 
of her arms the Миг on her face seemed 
product of her inner chemistry, not 
his. "You've a room?" As she asked that, 
her jaw went square: it reminded him of 
somehody. who? The landlady. 

"E do.” he said, “but it's full of lide 


when she joined 1 


ached 
sipped and said 


for his bourbon and 
in 2 voice older than 
her figure, “This place is lousy with 


rooms.” 


Gulp arrived back in his own room 
after five. He must have been noisier 
than he thought, for a person in a white 
nightgown appeared in the connecting 
doorway. He could not sec her features. 
she was a good height. she reminded 
him of nobody. Good. From the frozen 
pose of her, she was scared—scared of 
him. Good. 


You OR?" 
"Absolutely." Though already һе 
could feel the moruing's sun grinding on 
his temples. "You been awake, sweetie? 
Sorry.” 
“I was worried about you.” But Laura 
did not cross the threshold into his room. 
"Very worried?" 
“Naa. 
Listen. It’s not your job to take ca 
of me, It’s my job to take care of you. 


TENNIS SWAPPING (continued from puge 157) 


st admit the idea of having Alice 
tner intrigued me. 

“When we were alone in our room 
later, I said to my w ‘You know, 
might be sort of nice if we swapped part- 
nem tomorrow. We'd get a better game 
out of it." 
arol became furious and said I was 
a dirty old tennis player and she would 
never consent to any such thing. But 
about one o'clock in the morning she 
admitted that Ted's forchand had fas- 
cinated her and that she had wondered, 
while we were playing, what it would 
feel like t0 be standing next to all that 
power. She finally consented to give it 
а uy. 

“The next day I told Ted that Carol 
and I didn't know if he had been jol 
or not. but if he hadn't been, we'd like 
to swap partners for our morning game. 

“He said Alice and he had also dis- 
cussed it and nothing would please them. 
more. Alice had been really turned on by 
my serve and he said he had dreamed 
about my wife's lob all night long. 

“Ted told me he and Alice had been 
swapping tennis partners lor two years. 
He said they do it only when they're 
away from home and nobody knows 
them. He told me they had met some 
wonderful couples that way and when- 
ever he and Alice can find someone to 
stay with the children, they go somewhere 
for a mixed-doubles game. 

“In every other respect, they are the all- 
American couple. pillars of their church 
and community. Far from breaki 
is swapp 
together but it's 
improved their game tremendously 

Bob continued: "After our game w 
nd Alice, which we both found un- 
vably stimulating, we became tennis 
swappers ourselves. Sometimes we meet 
couples through ads in the papers, other 
times we go to а tennis club where we 
know mixed doubles arc ecd. It's 
changed our lives and we're sorry we 
didn't do it ten years carlicr."" 

John and Mary L. were childhood 
sweethearts and had gotten married the 
day after they both graduated from col- 
lege. When they were first married, they 
lived in the city and played tennis only 
once or twice a week, which they felt was 
enough. Then John was offered a job 
with a computer firm in lise Valley. 
He bought a $75,000 home in Paradise 
Acres, where all the executives from the 
computer firm lived. 

A few weeks after they moved in, they 
were invited to an evening tennis party 
at the Paradise Valley Country Club. 

Johu told me, “We were both very ex- 
ited and we went out and bought new 
tennis outfits, including Adidas sneakers. 
When we showed up. all the courts were 


ncour: 


full. I knew a few of the couples 


was surprised to find they weren't pl g 
with each other. 
‘Then Beecham, who was my supcr- 


visor, came up to Mary and s 
and I are on next ag 
wife, Suzanne’ 
y was shocked and looked at nc 
wide-eyed. ‘I don't think I want to play; 
‘Oh, come on, Mary,’ Suzanne said. 
‘No one in Paradise Acres plays doubles 
with her husband. Be a good sport 
‘John has a great future with the 
company, said Beecham coldly, ‘provided 
he plays the game." 
“1 whispered to Mary, "You have to do 
it. My job depends on it." 
With tears in her eyes, Mary went 
onto the court with Beecham. At first she 
could do nothing but double-fault. But 
pretty soon she became angry and was 
hitting drives across the net like I've 
never seen her hit before. They beat us 
in three straight se 
at night Mary said to me, “All 
right, you son of a bitch, you got me into 
it and I want you to know I enjoyed it. 
TIL play with 


president of the goddamn company, but 
don't ever ask me to play with you again, 
because, buster, I am now a liberated 
tennis woman.’ 

John said, “Well, the rest of the story 
is that Mary is now known around Pa 
dise Acres as someone who will play with 
anyone who asks her. Whenever 1 come 
home at night she's on the tennis court. 
1 guess it was my fault for getting he 
into it, but how the hell did I know she'd 


nd Cynthia M. have their ома 
tennis court and have been swapy 
tennis partners for 15 years. 
Cynthia wold me, "Our man 
on the rocks. Rod and I lost interest i 
playing with cach other and we were 
drifting ap: sick 
and Rod played doubles with our neigh- 
hor, al redhead. He came home 
and told me about it and I got so excited 
insisted on going out onto the court and 
playing him at that very moment. It was 
the best tennis game we ever had. After 
that we would play with other partners, 
but the best part of it was telling each 
other about it at night. 1 would excite 
Rod discussing my partner's net game 


"Say, how about moving in with 
my wife and me? The kids are grown up and gone 
and we've got lots of room,” 


243 


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PLAYBOY 


246 


and he could drive me wild describing 
his partner's backhand. It brought a new 
dimension to our lives. 

‘We never get jealous, because I know 
that Rod is still the best partner ГЇЇ ever 
have, and he has assured me none of the 
women he has played with can ever fit in 
my tennis shoes.” 

Noc all te Hise aa ends happily. 

Lola Q.. a California housewife, told. 
mc, "My d and I had what we 
thought was a beautiful relationship. 
One day for a lark we decided to swap 
partners in a mixed-doubles tournament 
on parents day at our son's boarding 
school. 

"Terry played with rhe mother of my 
son's roommate and 1 played with my 
son's math teacher. 

“Jerry's partner put a top spin on her 
serve, which is something I could never 
develop. I was hopelessly outmatched. 
‘Since then it’s never been the same 
between us. Jerry still plays with me, but 
1 know he’s only going through the mo- 
tions. Every time I serve he closes his 


eyes and T 
her top spi 

"We've been going to a tennis clinic 
for a year, hoping to get back what we 
had together, but it’s over between us. 
How can I compete against a woman with 
a topspin serve?” 

Dr. Riband Rogenthaler, a tennis psy- 
“ашы who has worked with many 
mixed doubles couples, considers tennis 
swapping a healthy thing, provided both 
are willing. 

‘or years people have been repressed 
about their but now they feel the 
important thing is to let it all hang out. 

"Tennis between two consenting 
adults can be the most beautiful experi- 


partners in xed-doubles match, The 
important thing to think of it 
game, and no matter who you play with, 


always keep your eye on the ball.” 


“Miss Del Santo is appearing as а friend of the court.” 


OTHER BUBBLIES 


continued from page 115) 
bracing definition, Kriters Blanc de 
Blancs Brut de Brut isn't bone-dry despite 
the name. Their Blanc de Blancs Special 
Brut has a couch more sugar, though it's 
by no means sweet. Both bottlings are 
vintaged. 

Sparkling red burgundies go much bet- 
ter at parties than at dinners. They're 
made sweeter to neutralize the bitterness 
of the tannin in the grape, which the 
bubbles bring up. Chanson, B & С, 
Bichot, Pi are all respect- 


Interesting for their singularity are 
blanquette de limoux—sweet, almost 
white, like a mild asti—and the oddball 
е Vin Fou, a humdrum white effer- 
vescent from the Jura n that benefits 
from clever merchand: 

One expects all kinds of effervescents 
from France; but Spain? Well, Cavas Co- 
dornitt is the world’s largest producer of 
sparkling wine by the méthode champe- 
noise (secondary fermen in the 


original bottle), Bowing to the current 
fad, Codorni blanc de blanes 
that is softer ic than cham- 


pagne, but lacks the radiance of the proto- 
type. Brut Godorni has more oomph. 
A Non Plus Ultra Brut which rests five 
years on its yeast, may be Codorniti's best. 
Its quite dry, between the blanc de blancs 
and the brut in body and bouquet, with 
sse beyond either. 

region comes a spar- 
kler with the unlikely name of Royal 
Carlton; available as Brut Natur and a 
sweeter Extra Seco. It has more body 
n Codori and as 


legedly a tribute to Winston Churchill's 
fondness for the brand. 

The Astu 1 contributes some- 
g different in the way of bubblies— 


dra. It's a hard cider, redolent of apples, 
n but less alcohol 
American 


with more carbonat 
(under seven percent) than 
apple wines. Around the holi 
hombres toss а shot of brandy into a 
glass of Zarracina or El Esca 
to make a blood-warming Sp: 
Per capita, Germans put av 
the tingly stult than anybody. It’s consid- 
ered a status symbol there 
en apparently want their neighbors to 
know they're participating in the coun- 
^ ic boom. Sekt has come to 
n di Ithough the 
term for spark Е 
The word Sekt is supposedly a corruption 
of sack, which in Chaucer's time meant 
wine from the south. In our time, Sekt 
has taken on a quality connotation, 
which is recognized by the new German 
ine regulations. To warrant its use on a 
label, the wine must contain at least ten 
percent alcohol, have a low level of sul- 
phur dioxide, he produced by way of a 
second fermentation (not carbonation) 


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and exhibit "flawless color, bouquet 
and flavor." A Sekt containing at least 
60 percent German wine may be sold 
аз Pradikatsekt. 

Deutsches Sekts run to the touch of 
sweetness and Ricsling fragrance charac- 
teristic of German still wines. The better 
ones achieve a refreshing balance be- 
tween sweet and acid, but even they 
generally have a sweet edge. A lot of 
cheap wine brought in by tanker goes 
into the lesser lights. 

Henkell and Sochnlcin are the largest 
producers in Germany, but only Henkell 
is known in the U.S. 5 a worthy 
representative. In an attempt to get a 
foothold in America, it pushed a Piccolo, 
split size, at distress prices. Henkell and 
Soehnlein both have bottlings labeled 
trocken (dry, but they are not sehr 
trocken (very di 

The familiar Blue Nun is equally pal- 
atable and considerably more festive as 
Sekt Sparkling Blue Nun. The flavor of 
the Sekt is consistent with still Blue Nun, 
so if you like one, you'll probably like the 
other. A ridged plastic cork is a helpful 
innovation, affording some protection for 
the novice cork popper. 

Dienhard Lilac Sekt, Langenbach 
Kupferberg Gold are well-made 
from smaller houses and do not suffer 
when compared with the biggies. For a 
g change of taste, try Erdbeer Sekt, 
п Sparkling Strawberry. It’s on the 
sweet side, with a redecming tart edge 
and strawberry scent. 

If German regulations are 


recise, the 
that is 
ble. Still wines often 
id occasionally erupt 
splendor. Practically every 
table wine has a vivacious counterpart 
asti spumante being the most notable. 
It's a pa i i 
with the u 
cat grapes in its bouquet, Wines run from 
fairly to frankly sweet, but the bubbles 
keep them from being saccharine. 

The spumante and panettone party is 
a favorite form of holiday entertainment 
in Italy. MR, Fontanafredda and 
sano are exemplary astis, the latter not 
quite as sweet or perfumy as the others. 
Cora, about two dollars below M&R, is 
good value. Don't look for méthode 
champenoise on asti labels. It’s one spar 
kling wine for which tank fermentation 
is preferable. 

Italy's drier whites can have а slightly 
bitter aftertaste. You might investigate 
Calissano Duca d'Alba, Carpene Мајо! 
Brut or Cinzano Brut Riserva. The last is 
known as the Elizabeth Taylor Special at 
Metropolitan Wine and Liquor, Ne 
York, because they've delivered it by the 
case to her door. Lacrima Christi, which 
can bc quite dry, is being phased out as 
a sparkling wine, although there's still 
some around, 

Ttaly's foremost red foamer, Nebbiolo 
Spumante, is sweet and velvety, with a 


hint of violets in its bouquet. Barbera, 
Brachetto and Lambrusco are also made 
spumante. Be aware that the two-dollar 
Lambruscos now flooding the country 
are not sparkling, though most do have a 
pin-point prickle. 

What about American sparklers? We 
have them in profusion—not to say con- 
fusion, The whites, with a few excep- 
ions, are labeled champagne. One such 
exception is an extravagantly bouqueted 
Sparkling Muscadelle du Bordelais out 
of the Hanns Kornell Cellars. And Kor- 
nell’s winy sparkling burgundy. made 
with pinot noir grapes, is one of the best 
reds. They're flirting with the idea of 
calling it Champagne Rouge. Sparkling 
Pinot Noir might be more apt. 
le the cold-duck caper seems to be 


d 


|| 


i] 


“Dear Sir- 


abating, that champagne-burgundy mix- 
ture js sull in demand. Paul Masson 
s one of the drier premiums and 
André is hard to beat at the price. Le Do- 
maine and Gold Seal, available in mag- 
nums, are prospects for the punch bowl. 
And if you've a hankering, there are 
ebullient fruit wines, boisterous mosca- 
tos, turbulent cabernets, crackling rosós 
and an alluring S may Beaujo- 
lais from Mi 

So count on it. Where there's a still 
wine, somebody's going to bring it out as 
a bubbly. The gamut runs from terrible 
to terrific, thus we suggest a preparty sam. 
pling to determine whether your initial 
choice is a hit or a miss. Happy holidays 
and happy sipping! 


your sheer self-indulgent pleasure 


at attaining your 20th anniversary is the reason for 
this, my 240th letter of complaint.” 


247 


PLAYBOY 


248 


sources of the greatest respect 


MONETARY CRISES 


at 268 billion dollars, а figure that 
the First National City Bank thinks тоо 
high but would cut only to 130 billion 
dollars. The commission concluded that 
“much of the funds which flow interna- 
tionally during a crisis doubtlessly are of 
multinational corporation origin." We 

е not only speculation with conse- 
quent uncertainty but speculation from 


Given the risk and cost of doing busi- 


ness with large and unpredictable fluc 


Economist-in-Chicf Richard М. 
Nixon: "In the past seven years 
there's been an average of one mone- 

every vear. Now, who t 
from these crises? Not the working- 
п, not the investor, not the real 
producers of wealth. The gainers are 
the international money speculators: 
because they thrive on crises. they 
help create them.” 

You know—the gnomes of Zurich. 
The Arab sheiks. The eastern Europe- 
an central bankers. The un 
types. True to form, Nixon ha 
us an enemy to blame. Doi 
him, blame the ational money 
speculators. But Pogo long ago saw 
the true enemy—"and he is us." 

he брой, an old Wall Street 
hand told me, was last July Fourth 
(since we are making it a matter of 
patriotism). "The banks here were 
closed. and the dollar fared much bet- 
ter than in the days just before and 
after. The New York Times reported: 

Although this Independence 
Day in the United States, banks were 
open in Europe and trading in fo 

gn exchange was active. The holiday 

е helped the dol ope 
ans have been taking their lead from 
banks in New York, which have been 
heavy sellers in recent weeks. With the 
New York banks closed, this addi- 
tional pressure was not felt." In fact, 
for the first half of 1973, Chase М 
hauan, for one, reported а pre 
forcign-exchange trading profit of 
about $16,000,000, According to Dr. 
Robert Alibe thor of The Interna- 
tional Money Game, much of that 
profit must have come from selling 
dollars. 

Likewise, many of the huge Ameri- 
can multinationals have profited as the 
dollar sank in value over the past cou- 
ple of years, if only because their 
foreign profits and working capital 
equal more dollars under the new е 
change rates. In addition, the prudent 
corporate treasurer who is expect- 
ing payment at some future date 


was 


(continued from page 91) 


tuations—i.e., without knowing what one 
will receive, or taking a heavy discount 
on exchange because the bank doesn't 


know what it will get, or paying the cost 
of hedging—the proponents of the float 


fall back on an obvious remedy: That. 
10 keep the fluctuations within narrow 
limits. If the dollar is being driven down 
or up in relation to the mark, central 
banks or international authority must 
step in to buy or sell dollars and arrest the 
fall or gain.This eliminates uncertainty, 


surance as to what his money will buy in 
Germany and giving Volkswagen rcason- 
able assurance as to what it will get for 
its cars. 

А moment's thought will tell the read- 
er where this solution arrives—although 
advocates of the float are not always so 
percipient. It goes back to fixed exchange 
rates. Rates are not absolutely fixed, but, 
like a horse race, if rates are a little fixed, 


they are fixed. And among the things 


that will change them is further trade 


disequilibrium deriv 
cou 
perform: 


ng from the 


n a weak currency will go into the 
foreign-exchange futures market now, 
selling that weak currency short, in 
order to lock in his dollar profit, just 
farmer locks in the price of his 
corn before it’s grown. Is that specu 
tion? Is it speculation to decide not to 
lock in the dollar profit on a transac- 
tion that is to be paid off in a strong 
currency, which might become more 
valuable by the time the transaction is 
settled? Is it speculation, if the dollar 
looks weak and the mark looks strong, 
for the American parent to send the 
German subsidiary some dollars to be 
used to prepay a loan denominated in 
marks? These and other for 
пре management techniques 

generally considered entirely | 
mate, But when the German Bundes- 
bank is being flooded with dollars, it 
doesn’t help much to know that most 
of them are legitimate. (Many wou'd 
rgue, it should be noted, that the 
role of the speculators is also legiti- 
mate, indeed 

Monetary crises are not issues of pa- 
triotism but of good sense. As long as 
there is a system of fixed, or semi 
fixed, exchange rates, there will be 
cris. Because every so often, fixed 
rates will have to be refixed to bring 
currencies back into alignment with 
each other. (They fall out of line a 
different national economics develop 
differently.) It is the job of Morgan 
Guaranty, Citibank, Chase Manhat- 
tan and the others to advise their cl 
ents as to the weaknesses and strengths 
of different currencies: and it is the 
job of the dients not to lose their 


holders’ money in devaluations. 


The only reason there is ever а "cri- 


sis" at all is that the central banks of 
various countries come rushing in to 
support the artificial fixed rate 
When they do, they subsidize everyone 
else, induding Mr. Nixon's intern 
tional money speculators, at ta 
payers’ expense. (You don't sce much 
taxpayer protest over this, because the 
whole subject is so tortuously compli- 


cated and Богі 

y the bill.) 

Tt is true that intern 
tors thrive es, but 
their role in creating them is probably 
greatly overblown. Walter Wriston, 
who, aschairman of First М: ii 

nk, is the generally ac 

leader of the banking industry, and 
who, unlike Professor Galbraith, 
vors floating exchange rates, told C. 

ws and World Report: “The money 
that moves on the margin—the rou- 
leue players from Las Vegas'—is so 
small as a percentage of legit 
transactions as to be unimportant.” 

Just who these speculators are—and 
they may change from crisis to crisis 
is hard to say. Understandably, they 
пу to keep a low profile, which is 
rather easy for a gnome to do. About 
the only speculators dumb enough, or 

rogant enough, to boast about their 

ions have been the Iraqis and 
ns, according to an interna- 
tional-banker friend of mine, who 
calls them “downright perverse." But 
the other Arabs—and they have most 
of the money—do not seem to h 
joined in. (Not yet, anyway. 

t Morgan Guaranty and С y 
the Saudis and the Kuwaitis actually 
built up their dollar balances prior 10, 
the last devaluation 

“You can forever identify villains 
when there's currency unrest," the 
foreign-exchange manager of a large 
multinational told me. “The players 
are there; they've got a huge amount 

i nd, whether 
they be banks, ationals or 
sheiks. And when you've got tensions 
and imbalances and an artificial or 
fragile system, any amount of money is 
going to bust it. I think at one point 
this year it was just $50,000,000 that 

used the Bundesbank to say, ‘Oh, 
the hell with it, that’s the ball game, 
and they practically closed down. 
That's nothing, $50,000,000. You can 
blame it on whomever you want, The 
problem very simply was that the sys- 
tem was wrong.” —ANDREW P. TOMAS 


tional specula- 


of national economic prices and 
€ leading to a new outbreak 


of speculation. "The risks of currency ac- 
cumulation will come to seem excessive 
to the central banks—in recent times, the 
Swiss government has absorbed the Jos 
National Bank—and the 
Й. A radical change in 
exchange rates will then occur. In other 
words, there will be a stable and orderly 
float until the next currency crisis 

‘There is another danger from the so- 
called float. The ultimate solution for 
international currency problems lies in 
national policies, a point on which a [air 
number of authorities—Arthur Burns of 
the Federal Reserve, Robert Trifin and 
Henry Wallich of Yale—agree. But if it is 
supposed that anything so easy as а float 
a remedy, it is certain that no more dif- 
ficult solution will be sought or tried. 
Rising wages, responding price 
excess pri public demand, poor 
use of capi g 10 a coun- 
international competitive positio 
c unpopular action. No govem- 
ment, and certainly not one as given to 
wish and prayer as opposed to policy as 
the present U tration, 
angle with unions 
be remedied by a litle 
sorcery with exchange rates. And by the 
time it is discovered that sorcery is not 
а solution—that it makes everything 
worsc—the sorcerer is likely to be safely 
back in his Texas law practice or at the 
University of Chicago teaching his errors 
to the young: 

Also at some stage, deliberate down- 
ward floating, more rightly called deva 
uation, could become an international 
game, something like chess. То put your 
currency down is to achieve a competi- 
ve advantage in other markets. That 
advantage others сап ollset by making 
their currency go down, too—by ollset- 
ting the other country's downward float 
by an aggressive purchase of that coun- 
пуз currency and counterpart sale of its 
own. This keeps that mation's products 
cheap, its employment high, its competi- 
tive position strong. In Ше years since 
World War Two, in reaction to wartime 
currency disorder and the competitive 
devaluation that preceded it, the moral 
aversion to such acti 
It is now weakening. А new er 
petitive international currency 


support will 


burden to a new 
dimension to international tension. If it 
happens, the prophets of floating rather 
than fixed exchanges will bear a heavy 
responsibility, and one can only hope 
that, by some magic, they will be tagged 
with the blame. International trade and 
even international relations will be ad- 
versely affected. International. monetary 
disorder will no longer be a noneyent, 
even in De 


The proper course of action is now evi- 
dent. There is no monetary solution. 
Тһе search for such a solution is a form 


“Why can’t you just nag, nag, nag like other wives? 


of escapism unworthy of the adult mind. 
In a closely knit world, there must be 
some stability and predictability in ex- 
change rates. That can be achieved in 
only опе way—by much greater coor 
nation among national economic policies. 
One cannot have a stable international 
system and grossly divergent national 
policies. It is to the latter that attention 
must be turned, 

Th fist. glance, will seem 
midable, even unrealistic proposal. How. 
can we unite or coordinate the wagc-and- 
price policics, or the fiscal policies, or 
even the monetary and central bank poli- 
cies of the United States, the Common. 
Market counuies and Sweden, Sw 
pd, Austria and the other countries 
outside? In fact, coordination will not 
be accomplished by Assistant Secretaries 
and central bankers meeting to agree on 
wagesnd-tax policies over which they 
have no perceptible influence at home. 
George Meany and the British Trade 
Unions Council will not casily subor 
nate their wage demands to international 
need and convenience when they do not 
fully accept the need to intervene for 
domestic reasons. A Secretary or Assistant 
Secretary of the Treasury who goes to 
Paris to meet on such policies may not be 
able to see the President before he leaves 
or when he returns. 

Yet there is no other answer and, oddly 
enough, this is the way the problem has 
been solved in the past. Anciently, the 
gold standard provided fixed rates of e: 
change between each of the relevant 
currencies and gold, and thus betwee 
all. And in its classical manifestation— 
more precise in theory than in practice— 
the gold standard compelled the coor- 
dination of the participant countries, 
Countries with a fiscal policy that was too 


Tor- 


casy, monetary policy that was too lax, 
found their prices rising. This manifes- 
tation of uncoordinated national. policy 
was then brought into line by the loss ol 
gold, the resul 
lending and the wai 
and expenditure pol 
This coordination did not disappe: 
in the years following World War Two. 
It no longer brought about the movement 
of gold from one central bank to anoth- 
er. Nor, needless to say, was it the w 
of ollicials meeting agreeably and later 
going out to dinner. It was, above all, the 
id predicta- 
ble economic policy in the United States, 
to which other countries could accommo- 
е. Prices in the United States in the 
ilties and Sixties were relatively stable. 
re were steady gains in productivity. 
In the early Sixties, the guidepost policy 
eliminated. the modest wage-push. infla- 
tion of the Eisenhower years, and our 
sanity had not become suspect from 
misadventures in Vietnam. Wall Street 
1 not yet got into the go-go binge and 
seemed a good place to send dollar 


nees. In those years, we were an easy 
country with which to live. We did not 
coordinate our policies with other 


countries’, but our policies were predicta- 
ble, and smaller and more manageable 
countries could coordinate their policies 
with ours. 

This is the clue to the present need. 
Nothing depends on monetary solutions. 
Eventually, the anachronism of national 
governments in an international econo- 
my of transnational business firms will 
have to be faced, but that will not be 
soon. The immediate nced is for a pre- 
dictable economic policy in the United 
States. 

The esse 


al features of a predictable 


249 


PLAYBOY 


policy are without surprise. There must 
be control—permanent control—in the 
nized sector of the American econo- 
my where union settlements act on prices 
and prices pull up wages. In the recent 
past (and even as this is written), there 
was urgent need for higher taxes to soak 
up the purchasing power that pulled up 
prices in the market sector of the Ameri- 
can economy. And in the future, there 
must be willingness to use taxes wher 
er such restraint on aggregate demand 
required. The President of the U 
States three years ago announced his con- 
version to Keynes, a man many of the 
President's followers once equated with 
Marx. It was an incomplete conversion— 
baptismal terms, a partial submersion. 
A Keynesian will reduce taxes to expand 
output. Mr. Nixon went that far. But the 
complete Keynesian will also raise taxes 
to curb an excess of aggregate demand. 
‘This step Mr. Nixon declined to take. 
dditionally, there is need for a strong 
policy of public-service employment. This 
is important, for it eliminates the need to 
use crude economic policy measures to 
carry the full cost of keeping unemploy- 
ment at an acceptably low level. Jobs 
be provided in the number and in the 
places where they are needed. Even in 
budget terms, it is a great bargain. 
Finally, there will be need, on occa- 
sion, for judicious monetary restraint. 
But this must not be a central reliance. 
Monetary policy is the most uncertain of 
all policies in terms of the relation be- 
tween a given action and the size and 
timing of the result. And it works with 
marked discr n against those 
industries that, by their nature, must 
borrow money. Quite a few foreigners 


са 


al 


ÁN 


recognize that world monetary stability 
requires, first of all, that the United 
States get its own house in order. Un- 
fortunately, they confine their further 
recommendations to proposals for mak- 
ing greater use of high interest rates. 

There cannot be a predictable infla- 
tion. Price stability is the only possible 
thing to which other countries can an- 
chor—with which they can coordinate 
their policy. Given stability, other coun- 
tries сап accommodate. Nor is this an 
inferior role; it is the natural relationship: 
between small countries and large. 

On occasion, no doubt, this coordina- 
tion сап be facilitated by nepoti 
among the United States, the Common. 
Market countries and Japan. A comm 
ment to a common target respecting 
сез and perhaps also productivity 
might have a certain moral effect. And 
n policy is in order, the 
working out of cosmetic details—the de- 
monetarization of gold, strengthening of 
the Bretton Woods machinery, expand- 
ing drawing rights, developing other in- 
ternational monctary gadgetry—will give 
useful employment to world monetary 
experts. Restraints on the movement of 
capital by the banks and multinational 
corporations need also to be devised. As 
an interim measure—until dollar bal- 
ances are reduced and stabilized —this. 
would be very uscful, as сусп conserva- 
tive banking authorities agree. (Even 
Switzerland. ii a substantial 
measure ot control over such movements.) 
But the major point must be empha- 
sized. With proper American policy, 
everything is possible. Withont it, noth- 


ing is possible. 


“If you're noi making these long-distance calls 
to Australia, then who is?” 


HUMBOLDTS GIFT 


(continued from page 196) 
junk, only.” He spoke on behalf of good 
judgment, and it made him pious. Then 
he saw the framed medal in green plush 
on the wall and he said, “Is that from the 
war? Were you in Korea?” 

“No,” I said, “it's from the French gov- 
ernment. The Legion of Honor. Chev. 
lier. I'm a knight.” 

“I di know an American was al- 
lowed to be,” he said. 

Von Humboldt Fleisher had sent me 
an unsigned postcard on that occasion, 

“Shoveleer! Your name is now lesion.” 

The hand was shaky, but it was Hum- 
boldt’s, no other. He had been on a 
Finnegans Wake kick for 20 ycars. When- 
ever I was similarly honored. he sent me 
a message. "Now you are one of Pulitzcr's 
pullets, Lucky Р. R. Always in a muddle.” 
In the old days, we had had theoretical 
discussions about the deformation of 
language, a further extension of the 
artificial derangement of the senses. All 
of which came from the necessity to re- 
daim consciousness from reccived idcas. 
Tt was Blake and Vision against Locke 
and the tabula rasa. Did you, beholding 
the sun, see a pale blot in the sky, or did 
you sce a heavenly host and hear it sing- 
ing “Holy, holy, holy"? Art must redeem 
us from the cartoon world of positivist 
stractions. 

The state of mind Humboldt had 
created for himself had little to do with 
Art and Redemption. He became con- 
vinced that the main ingredient of my 
Success had been "stolen" fom him. He 
didn't claim that he had written. Von 
Trenck. What he said was that 1 couldn't 
have done it without him. It followed 
that he should have been an honored 
first-nighter in a tuxedo escorting a star- 
let and later, like a fair-haired bison, he 
should have been one of the guests at Sar- 
di's upstairs, waiting for the reviews. 
Instead, he behaved like a lunatic out- 
side the Belasco, picketing me, applaud- 
ed by his own cheering section, his 
cronies from the White Horse. The po- 
lice offered to run him in, but I cried out 
in a frenzy, "Don't you touch him!" It 
was not one of my happiest evenings in 
New York. 

Soon after, he drew that check for 
$3000 on my account. He had smashed 
up his Buick I understand that he 
bought himself an Oldsmobile with my 
moncy. 

I had heard, too, that he was living 
with a gorgeous black girl who studied 
the French horn at Juilliard, but T knew 
that this was not possible when I had my 
last sight of him on 46th Strect. He 
couldn't have been living with а pretty 
girl, he was too destroyed for that. His 
color was dead. His face was a sort of East 
River gray and he was floundering in a 
large gray suit. His head looked as if the 
gypsy moth had gotten into it and spun 


its tent. His eyes were red. He stood cat- 
g pretzel sticks at the curb, his lunch. 
Hiding behind the cars across the street, 
I wore English shoes, custom-made by 
Poulsen and Skone. My underpants were 
combed Sea Island cotton, seven bucks a 
pair. I was in this period of my lile 
dressed like Sugar Ray Robinson. Not 
that Y had the fighter's spirit. Oh, no, E 
wasn't arrayed to fight but to be over- 
come. Seeing Humboldt, 1 was overcome 
by horror, compassion, ideas of Fate and 
other humanistic lah-de-dah. And I beat 
I went nd the corner on long 
nbling legs, jaws and teeth shut 1 
and my very mustache stinging me. I 
to myself, “Humboldt, goodbye! ТЇЇ see 
you in rhe next world.” 

And a few weeks later, he dropped 
dead at the TIscombe Hotel. 

On thar same day, 1 went from break- 
fast at the Plaza, the Edwardian Room, 
to LaGuardia. On the 727. I opened 
he Times and turned to the obituarics. 
There I saw his handsome, ruined face in 
black and gray. I went into the can and 
wept, while lights flashed RETURN TO 
YOUR SEAT 

In his youth, he had had it all. The 
Goddess was with him. He was hand- 
some, wise, angelic—he was a genius. Ніз 
poems were musical, his ideas were d. 
ing. he was an original conversationalist, 
and women were mad for him. At a party 
I once heard a lady say, "Do you know 
what 1 think you're like, Humboldi? To 
"re like a person irom a painting, 
. he was destroyed. For a long time 
after his death, what I felt was that there 
were left in the world only cert 
comical disheartening persons in custom- 
made shoes or suits with psychedelic 
ing. And that these, or people like them, 
promoters, hard-nosed men, moral defec 
tives, powerful dimwits—these owned 
the stock portfolios, the corporations, the 
reputations, these sailed the Aegean on 
уаЧиз with gold faucets, These brutes 
had power and governed the nations 


gross 


I sat rubbing my mustache, staring at 
the walls, waiting for that telephone call 

And actually, this Rinaldo Gantabile 
didn't make me wait too long. 1 didn't 
know whether he was a real hoodlum or 
only an aspirant, but he was as subject as 
anyone else to the daily rhythms of the 
metropolis. the click that starts the trafic 
rushing ас sunrise, the five-o'clock buzz- 
g that rumbles it back from industries 
and offices. This great ш beast is 
covered by a scale of minutes. Lunchtime 
is lunchtime. Rinaldo phoned me at half 
past H. He probably had another date to 
keep. He said, "All sight, you dumb 
prick. we're going to meet. Bring cash. 
And that’s all you bring. Don't make any 


are 


“I wouldn't know what or how," I said. 
"You come alone." 
"What clse, it never суеп occurred 


“Well, it better not occur. And bring 
new bills. You go to the bank and get 
new money. I don't want any grease or 
snot on those dollars. Get nine bills of 
fifty. New. And be glad if 1 don't make 
you eat the fucking check that bounced.” 

What a fascist! But maybe he was only 
priming himself, keeping up the savagery 
level. 1 had a hunch that it might be so. 
I said, in appeasement and abasement, 
“Any way you want it.” My sole object 
now (through docility) was to put 
end to our relations. “Where do you want 
me?" I said. 

"On Di 
Bath,” he said. 

“That old joint! For the love of God!" 

"You be in front of it at one forty-five, 
and wait. Alone,” he said. 


on Surcet, the Russian 


t he hadn't 
waited for agreement. Again T heard the 
dial tone. I identified this interminable 
sound with the anxiety level of the disen- 
ed soul. 

I tried again to get hold of George 
Swiebel to warn him away from the Bath 
Apparently, X had mentioned during the 
fatal poker game that it amused George 
to join his fathcr now and again in the 
old steam room on Division near what 
used to be Robey Street, There could be 
по other reason Cantabile had picked 
that place for our rendezvous. The Rus- 
sian Bath on Division Street is as old as 
okl Mr. Swiebel. who is now in his 80s. 
and perhaps older. In childhood 1 went 
there with my own father and the place 
was as dank and rotten then as it is now, 
but always very agreeable as well. The 
steam was comforting and golden. it rot- 
ted the wooden posts until they resem- 
bled beaver fur. it softened the plan 
Old. Mr. Swiebel steamed himself there 
daily. 1 told George's secretary, Sharon, 
No Russian steam today. This is Charlie 
Ciuine. H's important, Sharon, you 
hearz" 

George had said of his receptionist, 
"She digs emergencies.” This was under- 
standable. Sharon, а low-built, pla 
woman, had had her throat cut last ус: 
Without warning, unprovoked. a fellow 
off the street stepped into the office one 
day with а razor and swept it over h 
throat, He went out again and was never 
seen. “The blood George, “fell like 
curtain." With wonderful presence of 
nd, he knotted a towel on her neck 
and rushed her to the hospital. She now 
behind a glass panel. 

1 was afraid that Cani : 

med up оп my Mercedes, would want 
to go on to George. George Swiebel is 
generous, a good soul, a bright man, in 
his own way. George had organized that 
poker game for my pleasure and instruc- 
n. He said I was alone too much and 
out of things. He wanted to show me 
“real people,” the masses. But his guests 
knew why they were invited and felt thar 
they were on exhibit, The categories are 
grasped nowadays by those who belong to 


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251 


them. Thus, George’s poker pals, aware 
that they were on display, enriched the 
evening with their own irony. It was all 
perfectly clear to them. They saw the 
Cantabiles for what they were. Emil, a 
smalltime hoodlum, was born to throw 
rocks through windows and to twist arms. 
His cousin Rinaldo, with his black mus- 
tache and elegant clothing, talked big, 
blufled madly, read books but pretended 
to be a cast-iron lowbrow. About mc the 
gucsts obviously knew that I was some 
kind of mental fellow whose name they 
could find in a reference book at the 
public library, and that I was there to rel- 
ish their peculiarities. I proved to be by 
far the most peculiar. 

I am a bad poker player. Besides, I was 
distracted by the people George had 
brought together: one undertaker, one 
junior statistician from the branch of 
the State University, one hilli 
George's sales force, a fellow in the 
tuxedo-rental business, and Rinaldo 
and Emil, who had pushed their way in 
uninvited. My legs jittering under the 
I was smiling as the cards flipped 
d me. 

We sat with whiskey, poker chips and 
cigars in this South Chicago kitchen, 
amid the dark breathings of steel mills 
and refineries, under webs of power 
lines. Driving over the Skyway, I often 
note odd natural survivals in this scene 
y industry. Carp and catfish still 
ve in the benzinesmelling ponds ni 

by, Black women angle for them witli 
dough bait. Woodchucks survive among 
the dumps. Redwing blackbirds with 
their shoulder tabs fly like uniformed 
ushers. Daisies and violets persist 

It's truc I dropped about 600 bucks al- 
together, counting the check to Cantabi 
le, but I am so used to having money 
taken from me that 1 didn't really mind 
Т had great pleasure that evening I 
drank, I relaxed and I laughed a good 
deal. I was told later, however, that I 
alone failed to understand what was 
going on. The others saw how the Cant 
bile cousins were cheating, flashing cards. 
and finagling with the deck. 

Та the Capone era, the Cantabilcs had 
been bad eggs. At that time, for one rea- 
son and another, the whole world had 
identified Chicago with blood, there 
were the stockyards and there were the 
rackets. In this myth of blood, the Canta- 
biles had stood in the middle rank, They 
were quite well known. They worked for 
the Mob, they beat people and shot 
them, they drove whiskey trucks. Un- 
fortunately for the family, there was a 
weakminded uncle who joined the po- 
lice force. This police Cantabile, one eve- 
ning when he was off duty, got drunk 
a bar. Two playful punks took away his 
pistols and had fun with him. At 
gunpoint, they made him crawl on his 
belly, eat sawdust, they kicked his ass 

252 while he lay on the floor moaning with 


PLAYBOY 


humiliation and rage. When they had 
nough, they ran away, full of glee, 


had 
throwing the guns down. This was th 
mistake. He recovered his pistols, pur- 
sued them and Killed them both in the 
street. For this he got a life sentence. It 
was a hard blow for the family. After 0 
disgrace, the Cantabiles were dropped by 
the underworld. They had always been 
average minor racketcers. Now, because 
of old Ralph "Moochy" Cantabile, no 
one would take them seriously. There- 
Tore, Rinaldo Cantabile could not afford 
to be brushed off by a person like me 
who lost to him at cards and then 
stopped his check. Perhaps George was 
right and Rinaldo, or Ronald, was of no 
consequence as a hoodlum. But he had 
done a terrible thing to my Mercedes. 
Whether his rage was natural or coi 
trived, no one could say. He was ар 
ently one of those proud, sensitive 
fellows who arc a causc of so much 
trouble in human lile through being 
ssionate about internal matters of 


рә 
very slight interest to any other sensible 
person. 

I got moving. I went out to my dented 


car, which, in maintenance costs alone, 
me $1500 per annum. Encountering 
bad air, which often comes in garbage 
gusts across the corner of the lake from 
the greatest steel-and-oil complex in the 
world—a brown air, more gas than air— 
I put up the windows and turned on the 
air conditioner and the stereo. It was be- 
"Thanksgis 
id the cultural FM stations 
were performing sacred music—oratorios 
by Monteverdi and Palestrina and Han- 
del. Christ Lag im Todes Banden, ar- 
ranged by Greenberg, with Gohen on the 
viola da gamba. I drove off, barely able to 
see through the windshield. 

І hadn't yet decided in what order to 
do things, Maybe it would be best to take 
my car to the Clark Suect garage and 
then takea taxi to the bank. 

A little later, with the new $50 bills in 
my wallet, I was riding westward in a 
taxi. AIL I could see of the driver was а 
steel-wool Afro and atop that a cap. The 
back of the cab was dusty with cigarette 
ash and smelled like a tavern, 

This is my old neighborhood. a district 
of small brick buildings painted by the 
Polish owners, with their strong property 
sense, mainly in Chiisunas red. The grass 
plots are fenced with blackiron pipe 
There must be Baltic towns that look 
like this, Gdynia, for instance, But the Il- 
linois prairie erupts in vacant lots and 
occasionally the wind drives tumbleweed 
down the streets. 

In the old days, the days of coalmen 
and icemen, broken hot-water boilers 
were cut in half with acetylene torches, 
and these long troughs were used as 
planters on the grass plow of the brick 
bungalows coated in blaring red. The 
woughs were often painted silver in the 


tween 
December, 


spring; they had double rows of 
rivets and in their black soil geraniums 
grew. Big Polish women in ribboned dust 
caps beat the carpets, shook out mops 
and hosed the flowers. 

As there was still time for it, I told the 
cabby to go farther, so that I could look 
at old landmarks. T had to speak to him 
through the perforations of the bullet- 
proof screen. We went another mile west. 
The old landmarks had been demol- 
ished! I felt like a captive flamingo in 
the back seat, trying to look through the 
windows at the mangroves of his youth. 
With the pulsatory agitation of a bird, 1 
saw that Lovi's old restaurant had been 
swept away, plus Ben's Pool Hall, and 
the old carbarn and Gratdı's Funeral 
Parlor, from which both my parents had 
been buried. Eternity had allowed no 
picturesque interval, The ruins of time 
had been bulldozed and scr; ped away. 
Steel beams were rising in the air. It was 
the famous acceleration, the oblitera 
of familiar and sentimental attachments 
of which Americans are so bitterly proud. 
Polish kielbasa no longer hung in butch- 
crs’ windows. The sausages in the carni- 
ceria were Caribbean, purple and 
wrinkled. The old signs were gone. The 
new ones said HOY, MUDANZAS. IGLESIA. 
This was now a Puerto Rican neighbor- 
hood, There was more rubble in the 
street than formerly, a great deal of 
crushed plaster and broken glass. But the 
low limestone Russian Bath building (it 
was alo a lodginghousc or proleta 
hotel) still stood. The second floor used 
to be for bachelors or widowers who 
drove milk wagons or wor 
line, aged working stiffs. lone Uk 
grandfathers. 

Ah, yes, I knew the place from boy- 
hood. My father used to bring me. He 
had great faith in steam and in bein: 
athered with oak leaves. These steam 
bathers don't look at all like the lean, cld- 
erly downtown people. They are cast in 
an antique form. Here you see men with 
nd fatty breasts as yel- 
low as buttermilk, thick pillar legs with 
a sort of creeping verdigtis or blue-cheese 
mottling of the ankles. After steam 
these old fellows eat enormous 
and drink schnapps. You see hard, stout, 
old-fashioned bellies. Things are very 
elementary here. An atmosphere of con- 
scious obsolescence, of a line of evolution 
ndoned by nature, And down in the 
superheated cellar, all of these Slavonic 
cave men and wood demons with hang- 
ing laps of fat and legs of stone and 
lichen boil themselves and splash ice 
water on their heads by the bucket. While 
in the locker room upstairs little dudes. 
па grinning broads leap up and down 
on the television screen and make smart 
talk. And Mickey, who keeps the food 
concession, fries skirt steaks and potato 
pancakes and, with enormous knives, 
chops cabbages for cole slaw and quarters 
grapefruits for the old men who mount 


in bed sheets from the blasting heat. The 
steam below rises from a pile of white-hot 
boulders on which Franush, the attend 


red salamander, Franush 
creeps up with a stick to tip the latch of 
the furnace, which is too hot to touch, 
and then on all fours, with testicles 
swinging on a long sinew and the clean 
anus staring, he backs away, groping for 
the bucket. Then he flings the water and 
the boulders flash and sizzle. There may 
be no v n the Carpathians where 
I. 

Father Myron 
h his own her- 
kel 


Loyal to this place, 

Swiebel came every day wi 
ring, raw onions, buttered pump 
and bourbon whiskey. Though he had no 


driver's license, he drove his own Plym- 
outh. On both сус he had cataracts. But 
he could see well enough straight ahead. 
Tt was the side vision that was poor 
Owing to this, he did great damage to 
other cars in the parking lot. But Г was 
ious about George, 1 didn't want 
Cantabile to run into him here. 

1 asked Mickey, who was зе 
steaks and frying onions. “Ha 
come in today?” 

А man of peace built like a bounce 
with huge bare arms and an 
very high under his muscles, Mickey hiss 
a twisted lip. During the Depression, he 
had to sleep in the parks and from the 
cold ground he got a partial paralysis of 
the cheek Ir r le him seem to scaff or 
jeer. This was a misleading impression, 
for he was gentle, earnest perso: 

"The oll man is here; he said. 
“George came on Sunday but not today." 

1 hurried out past the cashier's cag 
with its little steel boxes where patron 
left their valuables. I passed the squirm- 
ing barber pole, and when I got to the 
sidewalk, which was as dense as the gal- 
axy with stars of broken glass, a white 
Thunderbird pulled up in front of the 
Puerto Rican sausage shop across the 
street and Ronald Cantabile got out. He 
sprang out, 1 should say. 1 saw that he 
was in a terrific state. Dressed in a brown 
raglan coat with a matching hat and 
wearing brown-kid boots, he was tall and 
good-looking. His dark and dense mus- 
tache was as fine as mink. But through 
this crackling elegance of dress there was 
a current, a desperate sweep, so that the 
шап cime out, so to speak, raging from 
the neck up. Clear across Division Street, 
I coukl sce how red he was. He had 
worked himsell up to intimidate me, I 
thought. But also, he was making un 
usual steps. His feet behaved strangely. 
Cars came between us just then, so that 
he could not cross over. Beneath them 
1 could see his trotting movements. At 
the first break im the traffic, bile 
opened his raglan coat to let me see that 
he iring a magnificent belt. But 

wasn't a belt that he wanted to 
display. Just beside the buckle, some- 
thing was sticking out. He clapped his 


ng fatty 
s George 


hand to it. He wanted me to see that he 
was carrying a gun. More cars came and 
Cantabile was jumping up and down. 
Under the utmost strain, he called out to 
me when the automobiles had passed, 
“You alone?” 

“Alone. I'malont 

He drew himself up toward the shoul- 
der with pecul 
"You got anybody 

“No. Just me. Nobod 

He opened the Thund 
brought up two baseball bats from the 
floor. A bat in cach hand, he started 
toward me. A van came between us. Now 
1 could see nothing but his fect moving 
rapidly in the high boots. 1 thought, he 
sees I've come to pay. Why should he 
dobber me? He's got to know that I 
wouldn't pull anything. Should 1 run? 

As the last of a string of cars passed, 
Cantabile took a long stride with both 
bats, as if to rush. upon me without a 
pause, Bur 1 yelled, "For Chris 
Cantabile!” 

He paused and I held up open hands. 
Then he flung one of the bats back into 
the Thunderbird and started for me with 
the other 

“I brought the money.” I said 
don't have 10 beat my brains out.” 

“You got a gun. 
got nothing.” 
“You come here, " he said. 

1 went willingly to the middle of the 
He made me stop. “Stay right 
" he said. I was in the center of 
heavy traffic, cars honking and the pro- 
voked drivers rolling down their win- 
dows. He tossed the second bat back into 
the T-bird. Then he strode up and took 
hold of me roughly. He treated me as if I 


bird and 


deserved the extreme penalty. I held out 
the money, I offered it to him on the 
spot. But he refused to look at it. He 
pushed me with what I though! n 
sort of fury toward the stairs of the Bath 
nd past the squirming barbershop cylin- 
ders of red, white and blue. We hurried 
in, past the cashier's cage and along the 
dirty corridor. 
"Go on. go oi 
"Where do you w 
“To the can. Where 
“Don't you want the dough?" 
“I said the can! The can! 
1 then understood, his bowels were act- 
ing up, he had been caught short, he had 
to go 10 the toilet, and I was to go with 
him He wouldn't allow me to wait in the 
street. "OR," I said, "just take it casy and. 
TIL lead. you." He followed me through 
the locker room. The john entrance was 
doorless. Only the individual stalls 
doors. I motioned him forward and 
about to seat myself on one of the Iocker- 
room benches, but he gave me a hard 
push on the shoulder and drove me for- 
ward. These toilets are the Bath at its 
worst. The radiators put up 
dry heat. The tiles are never washed, nev- 
cr disinfected. The hot dry urine smell 
тизе» to your cyes like onion fumes. 
Jesus!" said Cantabile. He kicked 
open a stall, still keeping me in front of 
him. He said. “You go in first.” 
The both of us: 
"Hurry up. 


“There's space o 


aid Cantabile. 
t to до?” 


ly for one.” 
He tugged out his gun and shook the 


butt at me. "You want this in your 
teeth?" The black fur of his mustache 
spread as the lip of his distorted face 


stretched. His brows were joined above 


253 


PLAYBOY 


254 


the nose like the hilt of a large dagger. 

In the comer, you!" He slammed the 
door and, panting, took off his things. 
He thrust the raglan and the matching 
hat into my arms, although there was a 
hook. There was even a picce of ha 
ware 1 had never before noticed 
ached to the door was a brass fitting 
groove labeled cicar, a touch of old-fash- 
ioned class. He was seated now with the 
gun held in both palms, his hands be- 
tween his knees, his eyes first closing, 
then greatly dilating. 

In a situation like this, I can always 
switch out and think about the human 
condition. OF course, he wanted to humil- 
ме me. Because I was a chevalier of the 
légion d'honneur? Not that he actually 
knew of this. But he was aware th 
s as they would say in Chicago, а 
brain, a man of culture oi 
this why I 
nd slopping and smell his 
antasies of savagery and 
monsuosity. of beating my brains ош, 
1 loosened his bowels. Hum 


E Е (to distract my: 
self) of all the volumes of ape be 
ad read in my time, of Kohler 
nd Zuckerman and Schaller on. 
nd of the rich repertory of 
tivities in the anthropoid branch. Te 
ible that I was a more lim 
п a fellow like Cantabile 


in 
ntellectual 


ed person th: 
spite of my concentration on 
achievement. For it would never have oc- 


curred to me to inflict anger on anyone 


ng improving thoughts, I 
waited with good poise while he 
crouched there with his hardened dagger 
brows. He was a handsome. slender man 
whose hair had a natural curl. It was 
cropped so close that you could see the 
roots of his curls and the contraction of 
his scalp in this moment of stress, He 
wanted to inflict a punishment on me, 
but the result was only to make us more 
intimate. 

He stood and then wiped, and then 
pulled his shirtails straight, belting his 
pants with ue large oval buckle and 
sticking back the gun (I hoped the safety 
catch was on). when he pulled 
his shirttails stra buckled his styl- 
yg the 
gun in, flushing the toilet with his point- 
cd kid boot—too fastidious to touch the 
lever with his hand—he said, st i1 
catch the crabs here!" As if that would be 
my fault, too. I saw that he was a violent, 
reckless blamer. He said, "You don't 
know how I hated to sit here. These old 
guys must piss on the seats.” This, too. he 
held against me and entered on the debi 
side. Then he said, "Who owns this 
joint? 

Now, this fascinating question 
never occurred to me. The Bath w 


ish belt on the hip-+huggers, thrus 


had 
so 


ancient, it was like the Pyramids of 
Egypt, the gardens of Assurbanipal. T^ 
never heard of an owner,” 1 said. “For all 
I know, it’s some old people out in Bri 
ish Columbia.” 

"You're too fucking smart. I only 
asked for information. ГЇ find out.” He 
washed his hands without soap, because 
none was provided. and then refused the 
roller towel. I admit that it had a kind of 
repulsive originality in its cake of filth. 
Full of the nastiness of the place, he 
ked, “Is this what they call a Ba 
We went together to the lunch counter 
bile dried his hands with 
per napkins, which he pulled angrily 
from the dispenser, crumpled and 
dropped on the floor. He asked Mickey, 
"Why don't you have soap and towels in 
your can? Why don't you wash the god- 
damn place out? Theres no disinfectant 
in there.” 

о? Don't you put moth 1 


alls in there 


anymore, Joe? We got some Lysol left?" 
black 


1 silent, leaned on the 
with its brass pedestals 
d upsidedown bronze legs with feet. 
Aged and wordless, he seemed to wish to 
remind us all of some remote, grand со 
siderarions—possibly Honor, maybe Rea- 


son. perhaps Destiny 
“You guys are gonna buy supplies 
from me,” said Cantabile, “Disinfectant, 


liquid soap. paper, everything. 1 got а 
shop on Clybourn Avenue.” He took out 
a long ostrichskin wallet and threw a bu 
ness card onto the counter 
Mickey took up the 


d with del- 


erence, His huge fingers were covered 
"Em 


with black knile marks. x the 
boss, I just have the restaurant conces- 
sion. But ГЇЇ pass the word on to manage- 
ment downtown.” 

Mickey, who owns the Bath?" I asked. 
But he simply raised his eyebrows and 
looked blank. It would be curious, 1 
thought, if it should turn out to belong 
to the Syndicate. 

Is George Swiebel here?” Cantabile 
asked. Mickey shook his head. “Well, he’s 
a dumb shit. Tell him I said so.” 

We went out into the street. The sky 
had suddenly cleared. I couldn't decide if 
gloomy weather wasn't more suitable to 
these surround r was cold; the 
light was neat and sharp, the shadows 
thrown from blackened buildings made 
patterns on the ground. 

"Well, let me give you th 
brought the clean bills. Tha 
wrap up the whole thing, Mr. Cant 
I said. 


fou think it's 


said Rinaldo. 
"Well, I'm very sorry. It shouldn't have 
ppened. I really regret it." 

Do you take your friend George's 
word for everything? Why, he 

hole. Why didn't he catch Emil and me 
in the aci? No, he has you stop the check, 
and then you and he and that undertak- 
er, the tuxedo man and all those other 


that easy?” 


ha 


dummies spread around the gossip that 
Ronald Cantabile is a punk. M You 
could never get away with that. Don't 
you re: 

"Yes, now I realize. 

“I was watching you at the game, and 
I didn't dig you. When are you going to 
do something—and know what you're 
doing?" These words he spaced, he ac- 
cented, he vehemently uttered into my 
face. He snatched away his coat, which T 
was still holding, the rich brown raglan 


ize?" 


with its large buttons—such buttons as 
Circe might have had in her sewing box 
Very beautiful, really, rather Oriental- 
‘The last garment I had 


treasure buttons. 


about 12 years old. His limousine had 
stopped in front of the Tribune Tower 
(1 was there to obtain a free map of Chi- 
goland, as the colonel had renamed ir). 
Two gunmen of small stature came out 
of the limousine first, cach with two pis- 
tols, and crouched and circled on the 
pavement, defending all approaches 
"Then, in this four-gun setting, the colo- 
nel stepped out in just such a tobacco- 
colored coat as e's. and a pinch 
hat with gleaming harsh fuzz which 
would have given you nettle rash just to 
look at 

“You think I don't know 
doing? 

“No, you don't. You couldn't find your 
ass with both hand 

11е made me get into his showy auto. It 
had red bucket seats and an im- 
mense instrument. panel. He took off at 
top speed from a standstill, like 
adolescent drag racer, the tires wildly 
squealing. 

In the car, I got a slightly different 
pression of him. Seen in profile, his nose 
ended in a sort of white bulb, which was 
darkly lined. His eyes were bigger than 
they should be, artificially dilated, per- 
haps. His mouth was wide, with an cmo- 
tional underlip that seemed to evidence 
a childish struggle to appear full-grown. 
The look in his dark eyes also hinted that 
he aspired to be something he'd never at- 
tained and that this was a violent grief 
for him. 1 suspected that he didn't know 
what was he tried for. Only the 


what lm 


real. 
We were speeding eastward 


“Didn't I 


hear that you fought in Vietn 1 
asked. 
“I was in Vietnam,” he said. "I got 


out of that smelly Catholic college and 
enlisted," 

"Did you see some action?” 

He laughed. “I started some action. 1 
tole а complete tank truck of gasoline 
and sold it to some black-anarket guys- 
Then I got caught. But my folks made a 
deal. Senator Dirksen helped. I was only 
eight months in jail. 

He wanted me to know that he was no 
Uncle Moochy Ralph but a true Twenties 
Cantabile. with a criminal pedigree. The 


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nt business on Clybourn 
was obviously one of his rackem. He 
probably had a currency exchange or two 
and maybe an exterminator business, But 
he was obviously in the minor leagues. 
No, this restless, striving. smoky-souled 
Cantabile was on the outside trying 
get in, He was the sort of small entrepre- 
neur the sanitation department fishes 
out of sewers after three months of de 
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were found in the trunks of automobiles 
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PLAYBOY 


t the next corner, Rinal- 
ight. He rode the humpe 


ieee specially 
upholstered in soft crimson blood.splash 
leather. He wore gloves sold to horsemen 
hy Abercrombie & Fitch. At the express- 


way, he gunned up the slope, running 
into merging trafic. The cars behind 
braked noisily. His radio played rock 


йез 


i 
Tt w: 


. Aud 1 recognized С 
Canoe. 


scent, 


Rinaldo took me first to the Playboy 
Club. The Bunny at the door knew him 
and the checkroom Bunny was all smiles, 
He threw his coat down on the counter; 
1 handed mine over carefully. 

We stepped into the semidarkness, the 
opulence, onto the thick carpet of the 
bar, where bottles shone and sensual fe- 
male forms went back and forth in an 
aber light 


some people. When I gi 
you pay me the money and apologize.” 1 
realized that I was going to make amends 
in public, at least in а small way. Had a 
Cantabile family council ordered Rin 
do to do this—to repair the damage to 
thcir good bad 

We were st 
rd 


me 
nding belore a table 
like ıo 


Cite 


Mike, this is Rot 
The rest was, “ 
E 


ald. 
it down, what'll you 


drin 
Bill was unknown to me, but Mike w 
Mike Sdmeiderman, the gosip colun 
nist. He was large, heavy, strong, ta 
sullen, stupid, fatigued, his I 
cull buttons nearly of a size 
with his sleepy eyes. His neck 
clumsy flap of silk brocade. 
1 his old fashioned and 1 
sedentary 
with people in bars and restaurants. He 
as clumsy by nature, smooth by prac 
tice. At certain moments he looked blank 


Hello, Cha Th 
за famous person. He lives 
in Chicago incognito." 

1 was beginning ro appreciate wl 
255 пао had done. He had gone to a lot of 


trouble to set this up. Many strings had 
had to be pulled. many phone calls 
madc, onc could be sure of that. Т 
Bill, a connection of his, perhaps owed 
the Cantabiles a favor and had agreed to 
produce Mike the columnist. I thought 
bill Nostra look. Very 
aven, his powerful vet vulnerable 
nose curved deeply toward the nost 
thought it the kind of nose that would 
bleed easily. In a 
would have guessed him to have si 
out in life as a violinist. to have become 
disgusted with the bow and strings and 
10 have gone into the liquor business. He 
had been well sunned 
was sleepy and haughty. Bill, doing R 
naldo a small favor, seemed contempt 
ous. Too bad. In a way, my sympathy 
this moment was with Rinaldo, who had 
gone to great trouble to organize what 
should have been a beautiful encounter 
al 


illiteracies. The names of the happy few 
appeared in bold type. He was used, of 
course, to people trying to crash his col- 
umn. The Bunny took our drink order 
Up to the neck, she was ravishing. 
I was business anxiety. The wı 
tween her eyes had more force than the 
soft crease of her breasts could overcome. 
Where the Club is, this lakeshore strip 
of the city is stupendous—skyscrapers of 
every form, and the shining road beside 
the shining golden-white vacancy of Lake 
Michigan, Man had overcome the empti- 
ness of this land. But the emptiness had 
ven him a few 
Here we were 
h and power with pretty maidens 
nd booze and tailored suits, and the 
men wearing jewels and using scent. 
Mike Schneiderman the columnist w: 
most skeptically, for 
esting offering. I drank down my double 
Scotch eagerly and, being a quick ex- 
pander, started to laugh. No one joined 
mc. Ugly Bill said, "What's funn 
"Only that 1 learned to su 
cet before all 
iss went up. 


these glamorous build 
used to come on the streetcar. It went no 
irther than Wells. E had a greasy bag of 
dwiches My mother bought me а 
girl's bathing suit at a sale and I way mor- 
tified by the little skirt with its rainbow 
Now I'm hei 

Cantabile gave me 
table with his whole foot, probably leav- 
g a dusty print on my trousers. His 
Trown spread upward into his scalp, rip- 
pling under the close-cut curis, while his 
nose became as white as candle w 

1 said, “By the w 
took out the bills. "I owe you money.” 

“What money? 

“The money 1 lost to you at that poker 
game. [t was some time back. 1 guess you 
forgot about it. Four hundred and fifty 
bucks. 


don't know what 


you're talking 


about,” said Rinaldo Cantabile. “What 
ате?” 
“It seems to have slipped your mind 


at George Swiebel's 


ince when do you book guys play 

poker?” said Mike Schneiderman. 

Why? We have our human side. Poker 

has always been played at the White 

House. Perfectly respectable. President 

Harding played. Also during the New 

Deal. Morgenthau, Roosevelt and so on.” 
¥ ‘ou sound West Side Chicago 

id Bill. 

Tumboldt Parks" said. 

"Well. put away vour dough, Charli 

bile. “This is drink time. No 

ness. Pay me later." 

"Why not now, while I think of it and 
as long аз I have the bills out? You know, 
g slipped my mind. and 
ht I woke up with a start, think- 
ing, ‘I forgot to pay Rinaldo his dough." 
ris, I could have blown my brains 


le said violently, "OK, OK, 
He snatched the money from 
1 crammed it without counting 
о the breast pocket of his jacket, He 
Quod look of high irritation, а fam- 
ig look. Nor could I imagine «мү What 
ШАШЫ УАШ 
had power to put you in the paper 
you were in the paper, you 


me 


in vain. Death's hold over you was in 
part canceled. You were not just a two- 
legged o shane fr 


brief hou 


ys. Charli 
Another play, 
You know,” he said to 
"Charlie's a real famous guy. They 
k out of his Broad 
whole lot of stull.” 
Broad- 


said. Mike Schneiderman. 
maybe? A movie: 
Bill, 
made a terr 
hit. He's written. 

“Thad my moment of glory c 
. "I could never rej 


like a cat gli 
ugh a said, “We've got to 
I followed him and in the lobby he 
What the fuck is the m 


1 you wanted to blow your 
ins out. You must know « 
creep, that Mike Schne 


you 
brother blew his brains out two m 
ago. You read about it in the paper, how. 
he 


rfeit bonds [ог col 


4 got caught 
that Schneiderman! 


The fe 
ates, the 


end," said 
You did it on purpose to 
louse me up.” 

1 didn’t, 


“Blowing my b 
expression. At 
ian slip. Absolutely 


tentional 
You aly 


s pretend you dou't know. 


“I used to hate office parties until I learned 
to relax around management.” 


PLAYBOY 


258 


what you did. I suppose you'll try to tell 
me that you didn’t know Bill Lakin, the 
guy with the big nose. I suppose vou'll 
Say its all news to you that he took the 
forged bonds as security and got indicted 
lerman's brother 
should he be indict- 


“Is that true? Wh 


ed just because brother Schneiderman 
put one over on hi 
Bird brain. you don't understa 


what you read in the news. He bou 
Lekatride from Schneiderman for a b 
а share when it was worth six 
you d of Kemer. eithe 
ics and trials? But 
care about the things that other people 
knock themselves out over. You have 
tempt. You're arrogant, Citrine. You de- 
spise us 

“Who's us?" 

“Us! People of the world . .." said € 
tabile. He spoke wildly. Ir was no timc 
for argument. ] was to respect and to fear 
п. It would be provoking if he di 
think I feared him. I didn't think that he 
would shoot me, but a be: surely 
possible, perhaps a broken leg. As we left 
the Playboy Club. he thrust the money 
to my hı 
nest мор w 


you don't 


on- 


g wa 


ag 


Our 
Building, somewhere on the 60th or 70th 


in the Hancock 


story. It looked © apartment, 
nd yet it seemed also to be a place of 


business. It was furnished in decorator 
with plastic trick art objects hang- 
un the walls, geometrical forms of the 


type that intrigue business 
we peculiarly vulnerable 
eers. The gentleman who 
in a brown-hop- 


disciplined belly. 
White hair was slicked back upon his na 
row head. The liver stains on his hands 
were quite Under the eves 
about the nose, he did not look altogeth- 
er well. As he sat on the low sofa 1 
judging by the way it gave under | 
was stuffed with down, his 
s extended far 
pet. The pressure of his belly brought 
out the shape of his рі: 
Long nose, gaping lip 
s velvet, gold- шеме һор- 
tin, and 
wpe-l'oeil objects. From tlie conversa- 
n, I gathered that his jewelry 
nd that he dealt with the underworld. 
Perhaps he was also a fe 
I know? Rinaldo C: 
had an anniversar 
shopping for a bracelet. A 
houscboy served drinks. I am not б 
drinker, but today I understandably 
wanted whisky and 1 took a double shot 
of Black Label Scotch, From high up, E 
could contemplate the air of Chicago on 
this short December afternoon. 
western sun spread orange light over the 
dark shapes of the town, over the branches 
of the river and ck trusses of 
bridges. The lake, gilt, silver and ame- 


bile and his wile 
coming and he was 
Japanese 


rol ice 


ready for its winter cov 


4G т 
ngle call seemed local. 
They were all Las Vegas, LA. Miami 


and New York. "Send your boy over to 
Tiffany and find out what they ask for 
this item,” our host was saying. 1 then 
heard him speak of estare jewels and of 


n Indi, 
whole lot of s 
ing bids. 

At one interval, while Cantabile was 
fussing importantly ove ay of di 
monds (nasty. that white stuff seemed to 
nc). the old gentleman spoke to me. He 


» Nizam who was trying to sell 
uf in the U.S.A, and 


av 


“I know you from somewheres, 
E 
UYes E sid, "from th lpool at 


the Downtown Health 


out sports, taxes, 
television programs, best sellers or chat- 
bout Acapulco and the Cayman 
ads. I didnt know but what this old 
n had one of those infamous 
near the swimming pool to which 
chicks were invited for the siesta. 
had been sandal and protest ov 
What was done behind drawn drapes in 
the cabinas was no one's business. of 
course, bur some of the old. mon- 
strative and exhibirionis 
seen fondl Tittle do'ls 
terrace, removing 

public ro give the gi 
self hud seen some of these spider-bellied 
sun deck 
hookers 


I was excited, E admit, by this aps 


ment and its сштеу of criminality. 1 
could feel the need to utter rising, 
mounting, always a sign that my weak- 


Amerie 


ness for the sensational, my 
зап (as well as persoi 
for high stimuli, for incon; 
tremes was 


you could onder кагу 
1 shop! done 
by were compensated in 
heroin by the fences. As for the police, 
they were said to be paid off. They kept 
the merchants from making too much 
noise, Anyway, there nsurance. 
Iso the well-known “shrink- 


Ranta The 


wits 


Revenue Ser 
about corruption 
Chicago. wa 
fied a cer 
one’s Chicago 
ldu't. really 


nal 


сер. It even s 
It harmonized with 
view of society. You 
айога to be taken i 


fine Ac- 
lipped it on. His old 


> was 
cutron watch 


intrig 
nd 


watch he tossed to the Japanese, who 

ght it I thought the moment had 
come to recite my piece and I said, “Oh, 
by the way, Ronald, 1 owe you some 


dough from the other night.” 
“Where from?” said Cantabile. 
From the poker game at Georg 
Swiebal’s, I guess it slipped your mind." 
“Oh, 1 know that guy Swiebel with all 
the muscles.” said the old gentleman 
“But he’s terrific company. you 
know. he cooks a s TH 


And 


Emil imo this g 
was my fault, Anyhow, Ron 
us. Ronald is one of the poke 
uis. L ended up аһа 


six hundred in 
e my LOU. 


er 
the hole and he had 


I've got the dough on me 
I better give it to you while we both 
remember. 

“OK.” Again Gantibile. without look- 
ing, crumpled the notes int ker 
pocket, His performance was better than 


mine, though T was doing my very best. 
Bur then, he had the honor side of the 
deal, the affront. To be angry was his 


right and th all ad 
When we were out of the 
in. I said, "Wasn't that OK? 
OK—yes! OK!" he said loud and bit 
ter. Clearly, he wasn't ready to let me off 
Not yet. 
T figure that old pelicin will pass the 
word around that I paid you. Wasn't that 
the object? 


buildin 


joking his 

I didn't like 

у ng at me und 
ight bodkin brows. 

“Well, then, that does 
cab." 

He caught me by the sleeve. 
2" he said. I did 
to do. "Aren't you enjoving our 
on?" said Cantabile, and grinned. At- 
tempting to Тапа this off, L failed. The 
globus hystericus interfered. My gullet 
fel sticky. "Get in, Charlie.” 

I sat in the crimson bucket seat, 
supple fragrant leather again rem 
me of blood. 1 fumbled for the seat belt— 
you never can find those cursed Бис 

"Don't fuck with the belt, we're not 


“You 
really know what 


the 


Out of this informa 
T 1 could. We were 
nue, hy 
skyscra 
trunk swooping up. 
lights. Below the early darkness now clos 
g with December speed over the glis- 
ing west, the sun like a bristling fox 
jumped down beneath the horizon. 
Nothing but a scirlet edge rem 
iw ir between the el pill 
mendous russes of the ший 


ion E drew what 
higan Ave- 


bubbles. The 
would never be so 
»t out, slamming 
the car doors, and 1 followed Cantabile 
over some plank bedding laid down Гог 
the trucks. He seemed to know his way 


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around. Maybe he had clients among the 
hard-hats. If he was in the juice racket. 

Anyway, Cantabile had brought his 
own hard hats. We put them on. Every- 
thing was prearranged. He said he was 
related by blood to some of the super 
sory personnel. He mentioned also he 
lots of business hereabouts. He said 
he had connections with the contractor 
and the architect. He told me things 
much faster than I could discount them. 
However, we rose in one of the big open 
elevators, up, up. 

How should I describe my feelings? 
Fear, thrill, appreciation, glee—yes, I ap- 
preciated his ingenuity. But it seemed to 
me that we were rising too high, going 
too far. Which button had he pressed? By 
daylight, I had often admired the mantis- 
like group of cranes tipped with orange 
paint. The tiny bulbs, which from a dis- 
tance seemed so dense, were sparsely 
strung through. I don't know how far we 
actually went, but it was far enough. We 
1 as much light about us as the time 
of day had left to give, steely and freez- 
ing, keen, with the wind ringing in the 
empty squares of wound-colored rust and 
beating the hanging canvases. On the 
cast, violently rigid, was the water, icy, 
scratched, like а plateau of solid stone, 
and the other way was a tremendous effu- 
sion of lowlying color, the last glow, the 
contribution of industrial poisons to the 


PLAYBOY 


beauty of the Chicago evening. We got 
out. About ten hard-hats who had been 
waiting crowded into the elevator at 


once and went down, leaving us no- 
where. Cantabile scemed to know where 
he was going, but I had no faith in him. 
He was capable of faking anything. I fol- 
lowed, I went slowly. He waited for me. 
There were a few windbreaks up here on 
the 50th or 60th floor, but the wind was 
storming them. My eyes ran. I held on to 
a pillar and he said, “Come on, Granny, 
come on, check stopper.” 
1 said, "I have leather heels.” 


“You better not chicken out.” 


“No, this is it," I said. 

But actually, we had come sulficiently 
far. “Now,” he said, "I want to show you 
just how much your dough means to me. 
You sec this?" He held up a $50 bill. He 
rested his back on a steel upright and, 
stripping olf his fancy equestrian gloves, 
he began to fold the money. It was in- 
comprehensible at first. Then 1 under- 


stood. He was making a child's paper 


glider of it. Hitching back his raglan 
sleeve, he sent the glider off with two fin- 
gers. I watched it specding through the 
strung lights with the wind behind it out 
into the steely atmosphere, darker and 
darker below. On Michigan Avenue, they 
had already put up the Clirisumas orna- 
ments, winding tiny bubbles of glass 
from tree to trce. They streamed down 
there like cells under a microscope. 
He sailed off more of the 50s and they 
flew like finches, swallows, butterflies, all 
ово bearing the image of Ulysses 5. Grant. 


They brought ercpuscular fortunes to 
people in the streets. 

“The last two I'm going to keep,” said 
Cantabile suddenly. “To blow them on 
drinks and dinner for us. Let's go.” 

Tf you didn't think of falling, the walk- 
way was more than adequate. I crept 
along, fighting paralysis of the calves and 
the thighs. My face was sweating faster 
than the wind could dry it as I took hold 
of the final pillar. Gladly, I fell into the 
seat of the Thunderbird when we got 
down. Cantabile removed his hard hat 
and mine, cocked the wheel and started 
the motor. 

“Look,” I said at the stoplight, my 
head hanging back over the top of the 
seat. “You've proved your point. You've 
made me atone for a whole day. I sec the 
money was not the issue. Let's stuff the 
rest of it down a sewer, I want to go 
home.” 

“Shut up, Citrine.” But there was a 
milder note in his voice and he drove in 
a more civilized way. 

We went to Gene & Georgetti's, on 

lin, just off the spur of the elevated 
train. Parking among the other sinister 
luxury cars, we went into the drab old 
building, A crash of Muzak met us. The 
high and beautiful bar was crowded with 
drinkers, the gorgcous mirror jammed 
with bottles. 

"A quiet table" Rinaldo told the 
waiter, "and don't put us by the men’s 
room, Giulio.” 

“Upstairs, Mi. Cantabile?” 

Why not?" I said. 
antabile sta 
asked you?” But he said, “ 

We passed a fresco pa 
lcs of tomato sauce and went up. 
ntabile ordered. “Two bottles of Piper- 
dsieck," he said. 

In the Capone days, hoodlums had 
mock battles with champagne at 29nd 
and Wabash, jigging the bottles up and 
down and shooting cach other with corks 
and foaming wine. Ail in black tie, and. 
like a fun massacre. 

“Now I want to tell you someth 
d it's a new, different subject," s 
aldo Cantabile. “I'm married, you 


H 


You bet 1 am and it would surprise 
you. She's a marvelous, beautiful, intelli- 
gent girl. 

A housewife?" 

Not my wife. You better know it, 
buddy. 1 wouldn't marry that kind of 


broad. My wife is working on her doctor- 
ate at Raddiffe, Harvard.” 


do you mean, no?" said Canta- 
nd this is where you come 
You know what her thesis 
subject is? She's writing about that poct 
who was your friend, 
"You'rc kidding!" 
"Von Humboldt Fleisher. You were 
talking about him at the poker game, 


Charlie. 


and how much he meant to you.” 

“Was 1? Somebody should have locked 
me up that night." 

For some magarine, you were going to 
write your recollections, all about Von 
Humboldt Ficisher. You were very emo- 
tional about that.” 

never, but never, speak of these 
things at all,” I said. "My brain is soften- 
ing. Chicago must bc giving me arctic 
madness. I think Fd better gct out of 
here. Was there more?” 

“If you've got a secret left, I'd like to 
know what it is. The taxes, the lawsuits, 
the cunt you go with. But never mind all 
that. Listen to me, I'm very proud of my 
wife. She comes from a very good fan 
She's terrific. I want her to get th 


Ph.D., you understand? You're gonna 
gi 


her information about this Fleisher 
n. Have you written anything about 
him? 

“I don't know what I've got. A mass 
of stuff, 1 haven't looked at it, it’s cha- 
otic. Give me a few minutes to th 
Everything is much too strange. 
schwindelt 
“Your mistake, Citrine,” said Rinaldo 
mtabile, “is that you think you're the 
only person around with any brains 
Now, read this.” He handed me а type- 
written letter, signed by his wife, Lucy 
Wilkins Cantabile. I read it. Jt was neat, 
polite, detailed and efficient, the letter 
of a model graduate student. She had 
prepared for me a long list of questions 
about Humboldt and his work. 

What does she want" I said. 

“Answers. 

“Written answers?” 

“1 said answers. 


Es 


“1 won't do it," I said. “I'm not going 
10 write a wor 


|. I never do anything like 
this. I always throw questionnaires away 
nd I've practically stopped writing let- 
ters at all. Anyway, it’s too much, I'm 
d. My heart will break. I draw the 
line. Go to hell. Bump me off. Lots of ab- 
surdities I can take, like the ones you гап 
me through today, but there arc things 1 
don't do. Regardless of how the world is 
swollen out of shape, Cantabile. Take 
this letter back to your wife." 
тте not going to answer 
No, I'm not.” 
Would you talk to Lucy?" 
"I might. I might not." 
“You'll talk to her.” 
7I may agree to a short chat.” 
With a tape recorder?” 
No. 1 don't like the way my voice 
comes out on tape.” 

“You don't have to listen. All right, 
don’t get yourself into an uproar. Drink 
some champagne. Giulio, bring cham- 
pagne glasses. Don’t bring me that heavy 
junk. I want the lightweight with the 
stems.” 

Mr. abile.” Deferential 
jo knew how to let Rinaldo 


look big- 


Share America's 


When you head out for a Christmas 
party in the country, sometimes you 


Ё find the roads aren't plowed. 

Sometimes you find there aren't 

j any roads. 

But no matter. A little snow won't 
hold you back. Not when the lodge is 
just around the bend. Where the fire 

is crackling, and a turkey’s turning on 
the spit. 

Its a time when old friends make 
new friends, and everyone shares the 
joy of the season. 

Its a time when all over America, 
people share the friendly taste of 
Seagram's 7 Crown. Not only as а 
gift, but in the holiday 


drinks they serve. Г 4 


Seagram's 7 is America’s 
favorite whiskey. Especially 
j for Americas favorite time 
M of year. 
Give Seagram's 7 Crown. 
's America's favorite. 


SEAGRIM DISTILLERS СО. K Y С. AMERICAN WHISKEY A BLENO. 85 PROOF. CIFT-PACKAGED AT NO EXTRA COST. 


261 


PLAYBOY 


SEX WITH A BRUSSELS SPROUT? 


С. Need more information about 
the horse. 


50. 


Sz 


36. 


38. 


39. 


- Have you wondered if the ast 


Any other beast? If yes, indicate 
which: 
D. Wolf. 
E. Other. 
. In this fantasy, who makes the first 
move? 
A. Ido. 
B. The animal acts in seductive 
manner. 
C. Introduced by mutual acquaint- 
ance. 
How often have you fantasized being 


romantically involved with a vegeta- 
ble, such as corn or Brussels sprouts? 
A. Oncea month. 
B. Once a weel 
C. Never. 
In these fantasies, is French dressing 
involved, or some form of hollan- 
daise? 
A. Once a week. 
R. Twice a week 
С Never- 
Do you ever think it would be nice to 
be baked into a large pic for the 
king's supper? 
A. Once û wee! 
B. Twice a week. 
C. Thrice a week. 
D. Nought. 


Do you ever wish that someone would 
dominate you and force you to caress 
а veal chop? 

A. Yes. 

B. Never. 


How many rubber raincoats do you 
own? 
A. None. 
В. On 
C. Two. 
D. Three. 
E. Four or more. 


nants 
ever abuse themselves while in space 
just to trace the trajectory under 
weightless conditions? 

nes. 


C. I just know they do. 
You can make people do whatever 
you want just by wishing it. 

A. True. 

B. False. 

(This question does noe apply to 

any political figures above Cah 

level.) 
While en route to a Danish hospital 
for a delicate prostate operation, your 
plane crashes and, as the only survi- 
vor, you are stranded for six months 
on a desert island off New Cuinea, 
with no companionship and no nour- 
ishment save fronds and roots. One 
evening, your campfire attracts a 
plump young cassowary bird (large, 


(continued from page 120) 


flightless). You immediately 


A. Tie it up and take its tempera- 
ture. 

B. Kill it for food, but in an un- 
usual w 


C. Ignore it, what do you need 
with a cassowary, you already 
have enough problems. 

40. The ancient legend of Oedipus, who 
Шей his father and slept with his 
mother, gives us the name for a classic 
neurosis. To see if you suffer from 


the Oedipus complex, answer the 
following: 
А. Do you harbor any desire to 


sleep with Oedipus’ mother? 

B. All right, then—do you know 
her sodally or have you ever 
heard of her? 

C. Then what were you doing 
mooning around Agamemnon's 
house last week, wearing a false- 
nose-and-sandals set? 

РАКТА. FANTASY LIFE—DREAMS 

Dreams, as Freud said, are “the royal 

Toad to the unconscious; if not, why am 
I wasting my time?” Once we understand 
the unconscious, it is only a short trip to 
brooding, depression, despondency, sui- 
cide and the discovery that the car has 
been towed away. These questions will 
give a profile of your dream activity. 

41. Do you ever dream you are an insect? 

А. Yos. 

B. No. 

19. A lower? 

A. Yes 

B. No. 

15. An ral? 

A. Yes. 

B. No. 

44. If yes to 43, ind 
А. Lignite. 
В. Stibnite. 
C. Quartz 
D. Other. 

Do you ever dream you 

named Esterházy: 
А. Yes, but my name is Esterhi 
B. Never. 

C. Rarely. 

46. Do you ever have a dream in which 

you are specifically not a man named 

Esterházy; that is, you walk around 

explaining, “I am not Esterházy. Es- 

terházy is shorter and has a mustache. 

Repeat, I am not Esterházy."? 

A. Always. 
B. Sometimes. 
C. Never. 
Do you have dreams in which you can 


m 


ate which: 


45. re a man 


у. 


à Sometimes, 


C. Never. 


ms, are you equipped 
radar and ground-control 
equipment, as required by the FAA? 
A. Yes. 
B. No. 


49. Are there drinks and a movie on 
board or just magazines? 
A. Drinksand а movie. 
B. 
50. Have you ever had а 
with another neuroti 
having a flying dream? 
A. Yes. 
B. No. 


HOW DID YOU SCORE? 
Now that you have completed the 
questionnaire, vou сап put down your 
pencil and read on for a discussion of the 
sections of the test and what they mean. 


nid-air collision 
who was also 


PART 1, SEXUAL ATTITUDES—FORMATIVE 
This section deals with two important 
formative features of childhood: the curi- 
osity of the child as to its own origins and 
the disgusting habit of certain children 
who sniff and poke around their bodies, 
when they might better be occupied 
memorizing the Scriptures. There are no 
“correct” or "incorrect" answers to any 
of the 14 questions in this part, except 
question 3: "As a child, did you have any 
siblings?” The correct answer to this is 
B—one sibling. If you answered A—no 
siblings—go back and rethink your child- 
hood. Weren't there some other short 
people hanging around while you were 
growing up? Those short people just 
might have been brothers or sisters or, 
rarely, midgets, if your mother kept a very 
loose house. If you answered € or D— 
two, three or more а 
are you are embellishing in 
1 off feelings of sibling 
Questions 10 and 11 should 
you to break out into a cold s 
they deal with the enormous gi 
are the legacy of all children 
nto the world since the Refor- 
ion (1517). Masturl 
8. 13, 14) has been variously 
“the Devil's handiwork,” “a shod 
waste” and “the shepherd’s salvation.” In 
contrast with these extreme views is the 
enlightened attitude of sex educator Dr. 
Fleming Twit, Erogenous Fellow at Ox- 
ford, who describes masturbation as “on 
the whole, more fun than getting it 
caught in а cornhusker.” 


PART 2. SEXUAL ATTITUDES —ADULT. 
Many sex problems find their origins 
in the subject of this part of the question- 
naire, especially questions 15, 16 and 17. 
In order to fully understand the role of 
п in intercourse, a radical 
s devised by Drs. Wurst. 
nid Besser, involving the design of arti- 
ficial coital equipment. A plastic penis was 
developed, incorporating coldlight illu- 
mination with filmic/thermal /pH factor 
observation and recording сар 
and a variable rate of thrustand-depth 
penetration, voluntarily controlled by 
the female subject. The entire device 
was electrically powered. Unfortunately, 
before it could be properly integrated 


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PLAYBOY 


“How about a couple of humbugs for Christmas?” 


nto the program, Dr. Besser took it home 
and thercalter claimed that she “must 
have lost iL" However, it was observed 
that several times a week, eight before 
midnight, the streedights outside her 
house would dim for about 90 minutes. 
Questions 15, 16 and 17 will reveal your 
attitude toward that all-important fea- 
unre of the male anatomy known as the 
ou know what.” Anxiety about the size 
of the male organ has existed for over 
two millennia (before that, there were no 
male or female organs and reproduction 
was accomplished by ange of 
postcards): primitive sculpture deals ex- 
tensively with the genitalia, and phallus 
worship is still a major feature of some 
contemporary cultures, particularly those 
of the New Hebrides Islands and 42nd 
Suect between Broadway and Eighth 
Avenue in New York City. Many intelli- 
gent, well-educated males are morbidly 
concerned with their organ size, despite 
the fact that for years, sexologists have 
emphasized that the size of the male 


obviously circulated by Ph.Ds with 
smaller-than-average organs. Let's face it: 
The larger the better. Everyone secretly 


an 
enormous variety of other endeavors— 
accep о the Friars’ Club, credi- 
bility in business, the respect of world 
lers—all depend upon having an or- 
largest possible size. If you 
arc depressed about this part of the test, 
remember that a passable sexual encoun- 
ter can be achieved with a penis of si 
inches or two penes of three inches each. 
If you are still depressed, measure you 

organ and convert the result to cen 
meters; seven and a half sounds a lot 
ва better than three. "Sexual Savvy" (55)— 


questions 18-26—is a phrase used by 
Janos Barbarian, M.D., im his classic 
manual, Fear Without Love, to describe 
the degree of sophistication of a sexual 
partner, If you didn't know the answers to. 
these questions immediately, you lack SS 
and, on the scale of subtlety and sophisti- 
cation, fall somewhere between a wound- 
ed water buffalo and Louis Prima's act. 
Question 21 touches upon an often sensi- 
tive area. If you tend to climax before 
your mate (for instance, during dinner 
or the movie), you are hypertense and 
must learn control. Fortunately, there 
has been some research into this problem 
nd help is readily available, 
through therapy or at your local drug- 
gists. Sharp & Dohme, the pharmaceutical 
house, manufactures a large hard-rubber 
mallet of the type used at carnival 
strength-testing machines, which, if ap- 
plied to the olfending region directly be- 
fore orgasm, produces startling results. 
However, the best way to detain climax 
as long as possible is to start having sex as 
late as possible. That is, if you'd like to 
climax at 11:30 г.м, it hardly makes sense 
to start messing around during Sesame 
Streel, docs it? Sometimes it pays to sit 
down calmly and think things out. Ques- 
tion 27 will determine any latent homo- 
or heterosexuality in your personality. If 
you giggled during this question, start 
working out or taking more showers. 
Question 98 deals with the differences in 
style and approach between age and 
social groups. If you answered True to 
the first three in this set, the odds are you 
haven't been out of your room since the 
Harding Administration and have some 
catching up to do. 


PARTS. FANTASY LIF 
WAKING FANTASIES 

Our daydreams can take many forms. 

from musing over the lovely shape of the 


office receptionist to believing we are 
Frederick, fifth Duke of Saxony, and 
wearing a funny hat. Questions 29-36 
will reveal any lurking animal, food or 
clothing fetishes. Questions 37-40 were 
induded at the insistence of Dr. Wurst, 
who wishes to compare a sample reaction 
with his own experience and views. II 
you answered positively to any of these 
questions, you are imaginative, creative, 
spontaneous and possess an enviable 
stock portfolio containing a prudent 
ixture of blue d nd municipals, 
plus a few glamor issues that will soon 
reap lucrative short-term gains. If you 
tended to vely, you find the 
world confusing and disappointin; 
You are jumpy, introverted, suspicious, 
your blade after each shave and 
re defensive about Watergate. We do 
not especially want you as a subscriber to 
this magazine. 


PART 4. FANTASY LIFE—DREAMS 

In examining the writings of Freud, 
we must always bear in mind that al- 
though he was one of the supreme gen- 
iuses of Western thought, he did have 
an unreasonable fear of crouching and 
wore a dip-on beard. Perhaps dreams are 
significant, perhaps not. As Jung е 
pressed it: “Dreams, shmeams. What 
about the fee?" Dreams of being some- 
one or something other than what we are 
(questions 41-46) indicate some dissatis- 
faction with the rea if 
you ever dream you are the mineral anti- 
mony (questions 43. and 41), you might 


e Esterházy syndrome (questions 45 
and 46) was first observed by Adler, who 
reported it to his colleagues in the Euro- 
pean Journal of Orthopsychiatry (June 
1939), and they all had a good laugh over 
ying dreams (questions 47-50) reveal 
a desire to return to the safety of the 
womb or to the period of infantile om- 
nipotence and pleasurable sexualit 
ciated with the child-mother experience; 
or they indicate а sincere desire of the 
dreamer to be Captain. Marvel. Dreams 
offer respite from the painful rea 
the world and allow us an escape into a 
world of our own design. If you have 
dreams in which you are dissatisfied and 
disappointed, just as in real life, well, 
that is a у 1 break. 

To compute your score: Look over the 
entire test and your answers. Then throw 
your answers away. Now. on a scale of 
100, give yourself what you think you de- 
serve. After all, 95 percent of all success- 
ful sex is confidence. We hope you gave 
yourself at least a 65. That would mean 
you are a mass of contradictions, guilts 
and neuroses. In other words, you are 
perfectly normal. 

a 


COUNTRY THAT WASN'T THERE aos page 212) 


chicano and American Indian activism. 
These, too, purify the language of terms 
that are degrading; resurrect a flattering 
history; take on separatist truculence; 
confront occupants of power with an 
ultimatum, leading to truce and final ac- 
ceptance on their terms. The acculu 
tion of literal immigrant groups 
city machines) involved the same kind of 
confrontation leading to accommodation. 
But now the process takes place in а so 
metaphor acted out with surprising con 
sistency by groups very different in kind 
This sameness may itself throw doubt 
on the authenticity of each group's 
promptings. Aren't they just imitating 
nother? More specifically, have not 
alisms imitated the first and 
sful (because most necessary) 
movement of the blacks? No, there is 
separate ethos at work in cach group, 
making its own demands. The proof of 
this is that one tactic cannot be moved 


Out of its psychological package, to per- 
ther 


form the same function in 
group's set of reactions—as feminists 
have discovered when they try to recruit 


lack sisters. Sexual apartness does not 
mesh with racial separatism. By stressing 
the menace of African maleness, black 
activists cultivate a certain macho against 
white society's effort to dominate black 
men. Women in such a snovement must 
play a supportive role, dissociate them- 
selves from the semimatriarchy whites 
have fostered in the ghetto (hiring black 
women over men, favoring the women in 
wellare schemes, relying on her registra- 
n as the ghetto voter). It was found 
that black female dominance within the 
thered white male do 
over il » femi 
by black women, in a vitiating context. 
Each immigrant tribe has its own set of 
priorities, though it may find ground: 
Tor tactical alliance against the common 
спешу, the “conti invading. In 


ist cannot function without cer- 
nges as part of an activism that 
is primarily gay. In the former context, 
she will often be opposed to the marriage 
institution, while those in the latter camp 
are claiming legal marriage ıites for the 
gay. Each group re-enacts an immigration 
on its own terms, by a dynamic intrinsic 
to itself. 

Another argument against mere exter- 
nal imitativeness among the gı 
the fact that some traces of intei 
gration had shown up even before the 
civil rights movement was filled with spe- 
cifically black consciousness. On the cam- 
pus, for instance, faculty members felt 
left out of the American consensus dur- 
ing the Filties, resenting their treatment 
as “eggheads” rather than efficient. prag- 
matists, So they declared an end to 
ideology, struck a zealous anti-Commu- 
nist stance and tried to outtough the 


businessmen and hard-nosed politicians. 
Professors did not achieve the tribal soli- 
darity of blacks. They stuck more at the 
stage of their own NAACP, the American 
Association of University Professors. But 
a sympathy for aliens and immigrants, 
best symbolized in Harvard's fight for 
Sacco and Vanzetti, is inherent in the 
whole of ican education. Schooling 
was intended as an induction into Ameri- 
can consciousness. That is why public 
funds could be forcibly exacted for the 
process, and all children compelled to 
undergo it. Schools were to impart not 
only the skills (eg. literacy) demanded 
for self-government but the attitudes 
(pluralistic) and propositions (“АП men 
€ created equal") that give vou 
importance. Indeed, the equalizing proc- 
ess was in time concentrated almost 
entirely in the schools, where it would 
teach cooperation between blacks and 
whites, men and women, Protestants and 
Catholics. If this process failed to take, 
then the whole recruiting of citizens had 
failed and should be repeated—the immi- 


grant should be allowed to "arrive" once 
more, this time successfully. 
Such images were always latent in our 


concept of American identity. But they 
pushed up with great new force in the 
xtics—not only among radical minori- 
ties but even in the large mid-area of our 
people. Herc is the supreme proof that i 
ternal immigration was not mere fashion 
among radicals. Even those who did not 
lire blacks, and certainly would not 
imitate them, were clamoring to be let in. 
This last wave of internal immigrants 

made up of those external immi 
grants whose assimilation had been 
boasted of for years. The new ethnic coi 
sciousness was a protest voiced by old 
ethnic groups, saying they had not been 
admitted to this land of American prom- 
ise. Enough of “Black is beautiful!” Now 


it was “Polish is peachy!” Ethnic grou 
found they had a history to refurbish 
Green History for the curriculum, in- 
stead of Black History. A nicety of | 
guage had to be enforced, No more 
Polack jokes. Italians made sure The 
Godfather never breathed the forbidden 
syllables of Mafia across the screen. Even 
the uniform of working Americans took 
on ideological cance; the hard hat 
was a tribal helmet of war, presented to 
ethnic heroes such as Nixon and Agnew. 

It can be urged that this is nothing new 
We always had ethnic neighborhoods and 
an ethnic politics. Just look at Mayor 
Daley's ruling structure. The real police- 
man's day in New York is March 17. But 
now the emphases were new. The ethnic 
groups were not just asking to continue 
their particular heritage, have soul food 
at home and some singing by the 
they did not need to ask for this. 
What was preached as ethnic politics was 
а demand for change in public standards, 
for recognition of a group, for political 
ved, if necessary, by in- 
timidation (picketing, demonstrating, tak- 
ng to the streets). The hard-hats first 
became a symbol, after all, when they 
broke up à Wall Street peace march with 
their wrenches. Whites who once criti- 
cized blacks for making politics in thc 
street were demonstrating against busing. 
tinst abortion, against The Godfather 
by the end of the activist decade. The 
same people who criticized TV for mak 
ing instant heroes out of Kap Brown or 
Stokely Carmichael were happy to see 
their own self-appointed spokesmen (such 
as Barbara Mikulski) gettin edia atten- 
tion. They even accepted as their own 
some heroes not on good terms with the 
law, such as Albert Gallo and Joe Colo: 
bo. As with the gays, this was not just 
a question of civil rights but a public 
demand for recognition as a force to 
be reckoned with. 

President Nixon was quick to respond. 


265 


PLAYBOY 


266 


to these signals from his constituency- 
While he and Agnew piously deplored 
the McGova ppeal to voters by 
category or "quota," they ran the most 
ethnically cross-referenced race in the his- 
tory of national campaigns. Nixon, who 


hid in the White House for most of the 


1972 contest, picked an Italian fiesta for 
one of his rare epiphanies. After re-clec- 
ion, the President sponsored things like 
his Italian night, with Frank Sinatra on 
hand to serenade Premier Andreotti. 
Some thought that Sinatra might be 
disinvited alter boorish conduct at the 


inaugural party. But Nixon ca 
above censoriousness when he recalls 
ta's ties with Иа 'antidelam 


ion" groups. Middle America, shocked 
by the morals of kids and blacks, has 
never been too hard on Kiwanis Club in- 
discretions. Bur mo one can 
атту Davis [r^s getting called back to 
White House if he shouted "Ci 


i 
a white newswoman in Washii 


new ethnics will their own kind 

of aggression and public incivility, just 

like the other tribes now washed up on 
the shores of our national awareness. 

This raises the matter of in- 

i эп above the level of odd 


American or the Mexican-American who 
nts to reverse the liberal condemna- 
ing our citizens. People 


now want to be known as Polish 
s or (in a triple play, to head off 
muck) as French-Canadian-Americans. 
Perhaps, soon, as Lesby-Americans or 
Gay Americans. Being simply 
s simply not enough any 


"consciousness raising." One must thin 
black. or female. One must become radi- 
calized. One must regain an ethnic herit- 
age. People were asking for somet 
more than recognition of what they were 
They were tying to become what they 
claimed to be. They must achieve an out- 
landishness sufficient to break in on the 
ion’s outlandishness with great foi 
iscs the question, How can 
jority, the vast median lump 
is, be outside clamoring for 
иней, they feel neglected and 


entry? С 
look around for oppressors—who seem 


newsmen, c 


oddly peripher 
the “Eastern establishment.” If TV really 
oppresses them, why not turn it off? In- 
stead, they try to get on the tube them- 
selves, replace with their own fiestas the 
Indian raids and chicano strikes. They 
voted the Eastern establishment out. The 
campus i Wh 


which has the President on 
dle America claimed thar student den 
str were fringe unrepres 
types—yet that these few kooks could op- 
press the mass of ordinary people in their 
homes. Middle Americans outnumber 
the blacks ten to one, and outrank them 


ors 


in wealth and privilege—yet feel men- 
асе and controlled by the «айу 
wed few. It has been Nixon's gilt 10 
cultivate these resentments and. embody 
them, Even after a landslide victory, he 
epresented himself as an underdog, al- 
ways picked on. At the center of world 
pow s against the establishment. 
His followers tell us they are America, 
the good people, the real electorate—yet 
they somehow feel deprived of their own 
and, locked out and looked down on. 
Some e nalysts still fear а WASP 
citadel unfalle 
locked up in it. Then why doesn't Nixon 
bomb it? Because it is not really there. 
"Ihe only way to find a concerted direc 
of WASPs at the helm of the nation 


and think power is 


tor 
is to spread and fuzz the definitions so 
5 to make them meaningless. In fact, we 


obably doomed to have WASP lib 
and its first act will be to send the 
word WASP to that limbo where Polack 
and Canuck already I 

Others recognize that WASP power is 
led or mythical now—storm the citi- 


tage thar outlives his actual political 
d economic dominance—over the ye: 
ined ethnics to think badly of 


he 
themselves, take on WASP traits and de- 


e their own. He alienated ul 
past. Michael Novak, for instance, 
describes the _ psychologi 

tion” of ethnics in term 
F on. Mis 
middle Americans have М 
ethnic faces, Liberation demands a spasm 
of recoil from WASP value u 
ethnic authentic selves. But what is а 
heritage, once it is lost? Besides, 1 
Americans do not want to become Italians 
E non's blacks wanted to be 
simply black. That is why the col 
metaphor will not fir the immigration 
scenario. The ethnics want in—omo the 
tube, close to the President. They want 
to be Americans: the detour through 
Italy is meant. to end inside what they 
have been kept outside. But what is that? 
If they break into the citadel, they will 
just be more WASPlike. And if there is 


borrowed fom 
Middle European 


its. 


no citadel to take, where will they get the 
American component in their | 
anism? 


sense, the 
America's р 


already have it. Middle 
. its views on crime, 
оп war, on censorship are not handed 
down from the Ivy League. Why not set- 
tle for what they already have? What is 
the thing they still must get inside? If they 
г who is? 
No one. The wibes have all assembled 
another. 


an 


and 


on the shore. cying onc 
looked for the huge native force to be i 
vaded—but there is по опе there. 
middle Americi has undertaken its i 
tion, we must confess we are all imi 
nts toward a nonexistent country. 

What made us think there 


thing else our there, that Amer 


Once 
mi. 


was 


anything but us? Perhaps the insistent 
calls telling us to “belon We should 
participate, take our destiny in our hands, 
work within the system (and so with all 
the system's power) That was always 
the summons from Kennedy’s inaugural. 
from the Port Huron Statement, the 
McCarthy and McGovern campaigns, the 
Neo Populists. Even Nixon talked of 
piece of the action.” The McGovern pla 
form echoed Tom Hayden on the right 
to “participate 
proces.” Richard Goodwin put it this 
: “The nature of our role in world a 
irs must pervade every man’s sense ol 
тей. That is really as much a 
prescription for totalitarianism as a 
cure for boredom (one of the few prom- 
se total government can fulfill). 

But short of dictatorship, the thing we 
participate in is just us. Participation. 
like liberal democracy itself, is just a vot- 
ing procedure. Those who go to it seck- 
substance instead of machinery must, 
for the most part, be disappointed. The 
electoral process tells you how to go 
hour getting certain things (in moder- 
ate degrees). It docs not tell you what to 
t, or want, or be. Citizenship does not 
e the m but vice versa. Yet men 
went to politics in the Sixties, not for this 
rogram or that but to receive a self 
Power to the people!” was an attempt 
not to scie power but to call up a people: 
and the incantation did not work. The 
Dusyness of public life will not fill up 
te emptiness. It was the measure of 
our desperation that we asked it to. 

The ethnic felt neglected because he. 
and Archie Bunker and Kelsey at the 
bar, were not consulted on the six-o'clock. 
news; only demonstrating chicanos and 
the like. All right, put Mr. Middle Amer 
ica on the tube. Has he been given, by 
that act, a fullness he did not formerly 
own? Not bloody likely. Perhaps he lost 
what little remained of a self. Inside the 
TV set, he may be powerless to get out 
again. Emigrated off to unreality, he can- 
not escape the goldfish-howl tube in his 
own room, regain full possession of that 
room. He has joined the system at last, 
diminished himself outward toward а 
public life. But why did he want to? The 
sad thing is that when the public ma- 
dhinery has failed to give meaning to 
mte lives, those with some 
ner richness are cager to drain 
toward politics and the reality-dis- 
g process. If ethnic life were still 
tislying, why did it ache for the super- 

imations of the ethnic po 


tic 


BI 
We all went looking for America. But 


since we were it, our wanderings just 
scattered. what we traveled toward, Mon 
umentum requiris? И you really want 
to find America, stand still—which is why 
so many people d. 
‘The excitement was all one of departure, 
not . And there is less to arrive at, 
now, than when we Iel 


“Equality is the Twentieth Century myth.” 


milly 


PLAYBOY 


268 


HIN 


(continued from page 162) 
casily translatable to the real world. And 
very real, too, was the Who's Who of 
designers contributing to the event, with 
fashions from Blass, Cardin, St. Laurent 
and De 1а Renta waiting in the wings 
next to the creations of a number of 
talented  newcomers—black designers 
Scot Barric and Jay Jaxon, Yannis 
Tseklenis of Greece, Kansai Yamamoto 
of Japan and five student designers, three 
from New York's Fashion Institute of 
Technology and two from London's 
Royal College of Art. 

Many of the outfits, not s 
focused on leisurewear. So 
outdoor activity; a motorcycle sui 
scrubbed blue denim from Ya 
а quilted track suit from Tom 
(England) and a nylon-taffeta boating 
outfit by Robert Grahame (U.S. 

More tranquil moments—the kind 
e a touch of opulence or sen- 
were conjured up by a gold-and- 
Dlack-brocade dinner jacket with velvet 
cape, from Guy Laroche (France), a 
multipattern green-velvet ensemble from 
Testa (Italy) and a satin smoking jacket 
with matching lounger pants from Pinky 
& Dianne of Flo Toronto (U. .). 

Of a more practical nature, yet not 
without a futuristic touch, was the carry- 
all camel’shair suit—for the interna- 
tional commuter, no less—from Berny 
Schwartz of Eric Ross (U.S.). 

Of course, there was no shortage of de- 
ns for just swinging and/or relaxing, 
such as a reversible coat of unplucked 


nutria over a patchwork sweater, from 
Egon von Furstenberg (U. S.) and the 
rasjacket looks from Bill Blass, 


Oscar de la Renta and DDDominick 
(all U.S). 
Remembrances of things past were pro- 


vided by outfits suffused with nostalgia. 
Among them were dinner 
cket with wing-collar shirt and white 
pants, by Ralph Lauren of Polo (U.S), 
a Casablanca suit in ccru-pongee silk 
from Dimitri of Jtaly (U. S.), a sati 
sequin jacket—with Walt Disney ch: 
ters—from Bill Bowers 
of Caprice (U.S), a dinner ja 
jockey-stripe satin vest from Tommy Nut 
d a Cardin (France) suit 
t jacket and Western dc- 
recalled hoss-opry fashions. 
from the irrepressible Rudi 
h (U.S). ever the iconoclast, 
little something for the couples of 
g to Gern- 
reich—people will lounge around naked 
(or nearly sc) in the privacy of their 
homes but seek anonymity and psychic 
privacy by hiding behind uniforms while 
in public. Gernreich provided the uni- 
forms—his-and-her suits of armor, ster- 
ling silver for the man, ivory for the lady. 

The evenings thoughts of the future, 
however, were neatly balanced by views 
from the past—a slide show that recapped 
t 20 years of PLAYBOY Fashions, and 
very handsome they were but time, as 
they say, marches on. Which, to go full- 
round, is what the Creative Menswear 
lection is all about. 


And, 


Gemr 
came à 


“This year’s award for selling the most girl- 
scout cookies again goes to....” 


A NURSERY TALE 


(continued from page 116) 
in glee. fighting off a couple of slaphap- 
py young boors who were grabbing her 
by the hips and trying to make her ac 
company them. 

“I'm willing, Pm willing!" she cried 
out at last, and was rushed away. 
Varicolored paper lanterns enlivened 
the place. A sledgelike affair with wail 
ing passengers hurtled down a serpentine 
channel, disappeared in the angled ar 
cades of medieval scenery and dived into 
а new abyss with new howls. Inside a 
shed, on four bicycle seats (there were no 
whee the frames, pedals and han- 
dle bars), sat four girls in jerseys and 
shorts—a red one, a blue one. a green 
one, a yellow onc—their bare legs work 
ing at full tilt. Above them hung a dial 
on which moved four pointers, red, blue, 
green and yellow. At first the blue o 
was first, then the green overtook it 
man with a whistle stood by and collect- 
ed the coins of the few simpletons who 
wanted to place their bets. Erwin stared 
at those magnificent legs, naked nearly 
up to the groin and pedaling with pas 
sionate power. 

“They must be terrific d 
thought. “I could use all four. 

The pointers obediently gathered into 
onc bunch and came to a stop. 

“Dead heat!” shouted the man with 
whistle. “A sensational finish!" 

Erwin d Ik a glass of lemonade, con- 
sulted his watch and made for the exit 

Eleven o'clock and eleven women. 
That will do, I suppose.” 

He narrowed his eyes as he imagined 
the pleasures awaiting him. He was glad 
he had remembered to put on clean 
underwear, 

"How slyly Frau Monde put it,” re- 
flected Erwin with a smile. "Of course 
she will spy on me, and why nor? It will 
add some spice. 

He walked, looking down, shaking his 
head delightedly, and only rarely gl 
ing up to check the street names. Hofi- 
mann Street, he knew, was quite far, but 
he still had an hour, so there was no need 
to hurry. Again, as on the previous night, 
the sky swarmed with stars and the 
asphalt glistened like smooth water, ab- 
sorbing and lengthening the magic lights 
of the town. He passed a large cinema 
whose radiance flooded the sidewalk, and 
at the next corner a short peal of childish 
Iaughter caused him 10 raise his eye: 

He saw before him a tall elderly man 
in evening dothes with a litle girl walk- 
ing beside—a child of М or so in a low- 
cut black party dress. The whole city 
knew the elderly man from his port 
He was a famous poet, a scnile swa 
ing all alone in a distant suburb. 
strode with a kind of ponderous grace; 
his hair, the huc of soiled cotton wool 
reached over his cars from bencath 


he 


cers, 


fedora, A stud in the triangle of his 
starched shirt caught the gleam of a 
lamp and his long bony nose cast a 
wedge of shadow on onc side of his 
thindipped mouth. In the same tremu- 
lous instant, Erwin's glance lit on the 
face of the child mincing at the old poct's 
side; there was something odd about that 
face, odd was the flitting glance of her 
much too shiny eyes, and if she were not 
just a little girl—the old man’s grand- 
daughter, no doubt—one might suspect 
that her lips were touched up with rouge. 
She walked swinging her hips very, very 
slightly, her legs moved close together, 
she was asking her companion some- 
thing in a ringing voice—and although 
Erwin gave no command mentally, he 
knew that his swift secret wi 
fulfilled. 

“Oh, of course, of course, 
old man coaxingly, bending tow: 
child. 

‘They passed. Erwin caught a whiff of 
perfume. He looked back, then went on. 

“Heigh, careful" he suddenly mut- 
tered as it dawned upon him that this 
made 12—an even number. “I must find 
one more—within half an hour." 

It vexed him a little to go on search- 

$, but at the same time he was pleased 
to be given yet another chance. 

"IIl pick up опе on the way,” he said 
self, ng à trace of panic. “I'm 
sure to find one! 

“Maybe she will be the nicest of all,” he 
remarked aloud as he peered into the 
glossy night. 

And а few minutes later, he experi- 
enced the familiar delicious contraction— 
that chill in the solar plexus. A woman 
in front of him was walking along with 
rapid and light steps. He saw her only 
from the back and could nor have ex- 
plained why he yearned so poignantly to 
overtake precisely her and have a look 
her face. One might, naturally, find ran- 
dom words to describe her bi the 
movement of her shoulders, the silhou 
eue of her hat—bur what is the usc? 
Something beyond visible outlin: 
kind of special atmosphere, an ethereal 
excitement, lured Erwin on and on. He 
ched fast and still could not catch up 
һ her; the humid reflections of lights 
ickered before him; she tripped along 
id and her black shadow would 
sweep up, as it entered a street lamp’s 
glide across a wall, twist around its 
саре and vanish. 

“Goodness, I've got to see her face," 
Erwin muttered. “And time is flying.” 

Presently, he forgot about time. Th 
nge silent chase in the 
ted him. He managed at last to over- 
take her and went on, far ahead, but had. 
not the courage to look back at her and 
merely slowed down, whereupon she 
passed him in her turn and so fast that he 


did not have time to raise his eyes. Again 
he was ng ten paces behind her and 
by then he knew, without seeing her face, 
that she was his main prize. Streets burst 
into colored light, petered out, glowed 
а sq space 
of sleck blackness, and once more with 
brief click of her heeled shoe, the 
woman stepped onto a sidewalk, with 
En behind, bewildered, disembodied, 
dizzy from the misty lights, the damp 
night, the chase. 

What enticed him? Not her gait, not 
her shape, but something else, bewitch- 
ing and overwhelming, is if a tense shim- 
mer surrounded her: mere fantasy, 


maybe, the flutter, the rapture of fantasy, 
or n 


be it was that which changes a 
atire life with one divine stroke— 
knew nothing. he just sped alter 


her over asphalt and stone, which seemed 
the 


alo dematerialized in iridescent 
night. 

"Then trees, vernal lindi ed the 
hunt: They advanced whispering on 
cither side, overhead, all around him; the 
little black hearts of their shadows inter- 
mingled at the foot of each street Imp, 
and their delicate sticky aroma encour- 
aged him. 

Once again Erwin came near. One 
more step, and he would be abreast of 
he stopped abruptly at an iron 
and fished out her keys from her 
ig Vrwin's momentum almost 
made him bump into her. She turned her 
face toward him and by the light a street 
lamp cast through emerald leaves, he rec- 
ognized the girl who had been playing 
ing with a woolly black pup on 
aveled path, mediately remem- 
bered, immediately understood all her 


nd 


charm, tender warmth, priceless radiance. 

He stood staring at her with a 
wretched smile. 

“You ought to be ashamed of your 
self,” she said quietly. “Leave me alone. 

The little gate opened, and slammed. 
Erwin remained standing under the 
hushed lindens. He looked around, not 
knowing which way to go. A few paces 
he ing bubbles: a car 
g by the sidewalk. He went up to. 
it and touched the motionless, dummy 
like chauffeur on the shoulder. 

“Tell m at street is this? I'm lost. 

“Hoffmann Street,” said the dummy 
dryly. 

And then a familiar husky, soit voice 
spoke out of the depths of the c: 

“Hello. It's me.” 

Erwin leaned a hand on the 
and limply responded. 


door 


“I am bored to death," sai 


the voice. 
“Tm waiting here for my boyfriend. He 
bringing the poison, He and I are dying 
at dawn, How are yo 
"Even number," said Erwin, runnin 
his finger along the dusty doo 
Yes, 1 know,” calmly rejoined Frau 
Monde. “Number thirteen turned out to 
be number one. You bungled the job 
rather bad! 
АЧЫ: 
“A pity,” she echoed, and yawned 
Erwin bowed, kissed her large black 
glove, stuffed with five outspread fingers, 
d with а little coul ed into the 
darkness, He walked with a heavy step, 
his legs ached, he was oppressed by the 
thought that tomorrow was Monday and 
it would be hard to get up. 


“When you crawled under the covers, 
1 assumed you had something in mind besides 


‘This little piggy went to market’. . 


269 


Шеш" 


\ E 
Cd aise ardos 5 ` 


WORLD 


JONES 


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biography of a 
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түт 


JAMES 


AN 
AMERICA! 
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JERRY LEWIS, BIRTHDAY BOY саго page 158) 


had just finished performing, had his 
EE pulled out of his trousers and 
unbuttoned down to the middle of his 
chest. Jt was splotched with perspiration. 

Onstage, Berle was beginning the sec- 
ond half of the show. 

“I heard these two ladies talking in the 
lobby during the intermission,” Berle 
said, peering out at the audience. “And 
one lady says to the other, ‘Sex gives me 
a pain in the neck” The other lady says, 
"Well, maybe your husband is doing it 
wrong’ ” 

The audience roared and Murray 
pointed in their direction with the bottle 
of wine. “Good group,” he said. 


Мо! bad," Lewis said. "Better than 
last night.” 
Nobody said anything for a moment, 


d then Mrs, Murray said, “You look 
velous, Jerry. You keep having birth- 
but you don't look any older. 
Fucking middle age,” Murray said, 
taking a drink from his glass. “I never 
thought I'd sec it. I tell you, Jerry, I 
never thought of getting old. 
"Oh, you're not old, Jan,” Mrs. Lewis 
id. “If you're old, then we're all old 
"T don’t mean old old, 
“But you begin to get these reminders 
that you aren’t as young as you used to 
be. Par ly on this fucking condo- 
minium route.” He took a drink. "But 
the people are beautiful, Jerry. That I 
gotta say. They're so warm and receptive, 
"They just smother you with affection. 
“You should have seen the reception 
we got in South Africa,” Lewis said. He 
took the boule of wine from Murray and 
poured some into his glass, “Talk about 
armth, Гуе never seen anything like 
it in my Ше, Sce, they don't have any 
TV in South Africa. None. So when 
I arrived—when the people heard that 
Jerry Lewis w. 
cert—Jesus Christ, 
Sinatra and the Pope showed up." 
I hear their act is a little slow, 
ray said, drinking. 
"Tell Jan about the welcome," Mrs. 
Lowis said. 
We land at the airport," 
‘and we look out the windows of the 
plane, and the airport is covered with 
South Africans, with Zulus, and they're 
ll chanting and yelling. 
“And you thought they were out to 
shrink your fucking head,” Murray said. 
a ceremonial welcome, Jan,” 
Lewis said. “They were of all ages. There 
were kids in wheelchairs, Jesus Christ, I 
never saw so many people. And they per- 


Lewis said, 


Tell him about the dri 
city, ‚ Lewis said. 

It’s cight miles from the airport to the 
ty,” Lewis said. “And when we drove 
in, there were Zulus lining both 
the road for the entire eight miles, cheer- 


272 ing and shouting. And they have a 


whole series of bridges that you pass 
under on the way. Every one of those 
bridges had a huge placard hanging from 
it, saying, ‘Welcome, Jerry Lewis 

Lewis smiled and then shook his hea 
“T have that welcome on tape,” he said. 
“It was really something. Nothing like 
that would happen here. 

They were all quiet again, and then 
Murray said, "Are you going back home 
when you finish here, Jerry? 
No," Lewi "m going to Ger- 
many." 

“You're going to Germs 

“The war is over,” Lewis said, smiling. 
“I'm going to do а show for German TV 
and I'm going to give а one-man concert. 
I'm also being given a German film fes- 
al award.” He pointed at Murray. 
For our picture." 

“For Which Way to the Front?” Mur- 
ray said. “You're pulling my fucking 
leg.” 


"No," 


Lewis said, shaking his head. 
d sixteen first-run 
th lines down the 


^" Muray said. 
Lewis L "The Europeans 
think differently about things. They ex- 
plore and accept film as art. It’s a com- 
pletely different attitude from the way 
films are viewed her 
wine uir was 
the picture was named best picture of the 
year, from anywhere, and Т was named 
best director. Its my ninth foreign film 
award.” 
“That's wonderful, Jerry,” Mrs. Mur- 


“1es fucking ionic" Murray said, 
laughing. “That's what it is. Imagine 
going from Miami Beach to Germany 

“I'm counting the days,” Lewis said. 
"Which reminds me 

He took a felt-tip pen from the dress 
ing table and began to write on the mi 


ror. He wrote the names of ten days, 
starting with Thursday, the De- 
fore, and ending with the Saturday after 


next, the night he was scheduled to dose. 
He crossed off the first two days and put 
the cap back on the pe 

"Two down and eight to go," Lewis 
said, stepping back from the mirror and 
looking at what he'd written. Everybody 
looked at the mirror expectantly, as if it 
were going to speak 
m Lewis said finally. 
“The best thing you can do for it is to 
pull the d 

Then, brightening suddenly, 
said, “Hey, this is supposed to be a birth- 
day. Where's the fucking cake?" 


Lewis 


Lewis stood in the mirrored lobby 
waited for the elevator. A lady leaning 
over the reception desk called to h 
from adross the room. 


"How's your father doing, Jerry?" she 
said. “Is he feeling better?" 

Lewis turned and looked at her brief 
ly. "He's much better, thank you,” he 
said. 

“We all wish him well,” the lady said 
as Lewis stepped into the elevator. 

The elevator gave a lurch and then 
started up. Lewis looked sideways and 
caught his reflect the smoked glass, 
then looked away. 

The corridor was narrow and dark. It 
had a low ceiling spotted with dim-watt- 

ge light bulbs. The apartment doors all 
had brass-colored doorbell units planted 
on them like corsages and circular peep- 
holes that stared at one another across 
the hallway. 

Lewis walked all the way to the end of 
the hall and rang one of the bells. A 
short woman in a patterned blue house 
dress and slippers opened the door and 


put her arms around him. "Hello 
Jery!” she said, kissing him on ihe 
check. Lewis set down the briefcase he 


was carrying to give his mother a hug. 
“Jerry's here,” Mrs. Lewis said, taking 
him into the apartment. He followed her 
down a short entrance hall that led into 
a combination dining area and living 


ош from the wall, with а gold-flecked 
mirror hanging above 
ornamented with color s 
in between the fram 

The living room, which was not large, 
was dominated by a heavy mctal hospi- 
talstyle bed that was made up against 
onc wall. This wall also had a thick fire 
door leading out to an open balcony that 
overlooked Collins Avenue, the main 
street at this end of Miami Beach. Across 
the boulevard, there was a coffee shop, 
with a sign Hashing the words ОРЕХ 94 
nouns in colored lights, 

“Hello, Pop." Lewis said. He crossed 
the room and kissed his father, who was 
sitting in а wheelchair not far from the 
metal bed. “How’ve you been doi 

Danny Lewis held his son's hand and 
smiled at him faintly. He was a painfully 
weak-looking man, whose body and face 
had becn shrunken by a series of violent 
strokes. Behind him. on the wall. there 
was a photograph taken 2 couple of years 


before, showing him as a robust, fullfaced 
man, with a broad and wi smile 
and a full head of hair. Now his hair was 


thin; his face was stretched. and gaunt; 
and yet his eyes. just as the eyes thar 
looked out brightly from the photograph. 
on the wall, were keenly alive. 

“Danny's been doing just fine,” said a 
short. plump lady sitting on one of the 
ng arca. "How have you 


Christ, Aunt Jean, are you still 
Lewis said, turning in her direc- 
“Ma, I thought you toll me Aunt 
1 y for sure 
“Now, what kind of way is that for you 


tion. 
Jean 


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274 


to talk to your aunt 
from her seat. 

“He shows no respect, this boy." Mrs. 
Lewis said with a laugh. She patted him 
on the cheek. “Sit, Jerry. Sit down and be 
comfortable.’ 

She left the room and Lewis took а seat 
on the sofa, on the opposite side of the 
room from his father. 

“Have you been behaving yourself, 
Pop?” Lewis said. He turned his head 
nd looked at his father's nurse, а young 
nd pretty black girl, sitting at the other 
nd of the couch, watching Mike Douglas 
on television. 

“Has he been doi 
Lewis said to the girl. 

‘The nurse smiled across the room at 
Danny Lewis. "He's been. pretty good,” 
she said. “He doesn't give too much 
trouble. 

Mrs. Lewis came out of the kitchen 
holding a glass jar. “Let me fix you some- 


Aunt Jean said 


ng what he's told 


thing to eat, Jerry," she said. “Try some 
of this. 
“Wha here two seconds and 


you're fecding me already,” Lewis said. 


“I don't need anything to eat. 


“I bet you haven't eaten anything 
today,” Mrs. Lewis said. "You never eat 


таей 


properly. Here,” she | 
marvelous.” 
held the 
2" he said. 

g” his mother 


a the jar, 


1d looked at 


sud. “Deli 


of the 


it right out jar 


"No, dear, you eat it on a plate," his 
mother said. I'll fix it up for you. ГШ 
ng you some Ritz crackers with it 
Lewis settled back on the couch as his 
mother went into the kitchen. 
So whi ye vou leaving, 
п?” he said, looking at his w 
You going back to California soon?” 
Fresh boy," Aunt Jean said. polishing 
glasses on the front of her d 
How's your show going, fresh boy?” 


Aunt 


cs. 


how's OK," Lewis said. “Milton's re- 
ind, 


ising me every time I turn а 
but other than that, OK." 
“How is Milton?” Aunt Jea 
lilon is Milton." Lewis said. 
looked at his father and said, "He w 
ed to be remembered to you. He said to 
be sure to give you his best. J think we'll 
come up someday and see you. Alter he 
gets through restaging my whole act." 
Mis. Lewis came in with а plate full of 
food and set it down on the coffee table. 
Lewis leaned forward, took a fe 


va 


gan to e 
is this stuff. Im 


"What cati 
way? 


"Herring 


tidbits,” Aunt 


“Delicious” Mrs Lew 
kitchen. 

“Jew food,” 
mouth with 
more of my pe 


Lewis said, 
apkin. “This stuff 


wiping his 


led 


"No, etum likes that,” Aunt Jean 
said. fans and everybody. In 
ышып they make salads with herring 
1 have the recipe 
Sweden you pay ninetee 
for a portion of smoked salmo: 
said. 

“Oh, my God, 
wants to eat that? 
"When you taste it, you do, 
said. 

“Are we goi 


doll 
Lewis 


Aunt Jean said. "Who 


Lewis 


eat lunch?" Lewis 


gt 


father said. His voice wis hoarse and 
strained. 
“You had lunch, d you had brc 


Aunt Jean said, her voice raised. 
She looked at him over her glas 

Danny Lewis stopped, a: 
about what she said. "What did I hav 

“You had fish,” Aunt Jean sa 
ly. "You had that lovely fish 1h 
bought. 
sh and carrots,” the nurs 
And mashed potatoes," 


1 emphar- 


1 


е said. 
Aunt J 


And I had that toda 


Danny Lewis 


id 
You had that Jor lunch," Aunt J 
said. "Why don't you walk a litle bir. 
Danny? You aren't walking enough." 
The nurse went over and helped h 
out of the wheelchair, then held his arm 
ind guided him alker. He 
began to move a aros the room. 
"Hey. 
the telev 
erybody 


ESI 
uh fuss over him. 
h, Jerry?” 


bout him?” 
" Lewis said. 
ke а nice boy,” Mrs. Lew 
He's got a cure impish smile. 1 
k he's impish-looking.” 


said. 


th isn’t 


“A dimple in the chin, the Devil with- 
in,” Aunt Jean said. 

Lewis got up 
he had br 


briefcase 
n. He took 


ught with hi 


ощ а cassette recorder and began 10 1e- 
wind th 

1 think he's goin, 
tape.” Mrs. Lew 

Oh, ГИ kill him if he does,” Aunt 


TIL kill you if you do, Jerry.” 
^t trust him when 


Jean said. 
fou know you 


“1 don't know what he carries in hi 
ses," Aunt Jean said, “Maybe he's са 
rying extras in there. W 
“Youre rambling, deat 
said. 
So 1 


ЖОЛ 


Mrs. Lewis looked over 
and said, ive me a note, swe 
Danny Lewis sang a soft 

note. 
Couple of note 


Mis. Lewis said. 


"Its good to use your voic 
Lewis sat and composed him- 
then he began to sin 

. ask a baby not to 
ast impossible. . 
erlea pitch," Lewis said to his fa 
alter he sang a few lines of the song 
t key was th 


ther, 


W 


“Very low," Mrs. Lewis said. “Ma 
oC” 

“Elin,” Danny Lewis said a small 
voice 

EIE s began to 


sing in a high shrieking comic voice. 


“to see goyim in a synagogue, it’s just 
impossible . . 
“No it's not, not anymore it 


Aunt Jean broke in 
vis gave his Aunt Jean a look and 
his mother he; laugh loudly. Lewis 
punched the RECORD button on the cas- 
sette machine 


Mis. Lewis said to her hus- 
‘give me a real nice note, now. Do 
My Way.’ 

Danny Lewis did not 
looking down at his h 
folded in his lap. 

“Give him the opening words," 


answer: he sat 
ids, whith were 


Aunt 


ow..." Mrs. Lewis be 

Danny Lewis sat still for another mo- 
ment, then began: “And now the 
end is near... and so 1 face the final 
cur b 


As his fath 
turned his eyes 
to the floc 
My friend ... Ul say ic dear 
state my case, of which Em certain 

When he came to the end of the song, 
there was a pause in the room. Then 
Lewis ха some pretty high 
nores ther 
Did he ever!" Mis. 

he go up big! 
sweetheart," 

Why don't you sing a song with him. 
Jerry?” Aunt Jean said. 

Ah, why don't you just butt out. 
Lewis said. “Trying to run everythil 

“I don't like you.” Au 

“I never liked you," Le 
stuck with you. They told me 
“That's your 
the couch, that’s your aunt.’ ] got т 
the lamp. I got rid of the couch 
Jesus Chiist, you're still around. 
So the same thing happened w 
when they told t my nephew 
Aunt J re stuck. with 


began the song, Lewis 
away and lowered them 


ru 


Lewis said. 
h was l 


one 


е you wi 
So wi 


walked over 10 her 

ad a Kiss on the cheek. 

iell me" he said to his mother. 

"Incest with an aunt ain't bad, is it?” 
“Terrible,” his mother said, 

him from the couch. 


smil 
“The worst. 


When Lewis walked out of the build 
ing, the afternoon sunlight was begi 
ning to fade and a bright stream of neon 


^] think it's time I told you my litile secret, Miss Bigelow!” 


275 


lights had come on up and down the 
boulevard. 

He walked over to his car and got in 
the back seat. He sat without doing any- 
thing for ute, then he took out his 
tape recorder and put it on his lap. He 
punched the rry button and the sound 
of his father's voice, singing the lyrics to 
My Way, came from the speaker. 

r. Lewi the dı 
rvicw mirror. 

did not answer; he just sat lis- 
tening to the tape recorder. 

You want to go over to the Deauville 
the driver said, “It’s about five 


PLAYBOY 


er said, 


Lewis said finally, pushing the 
bution to stop the tape. п. take me 
there. And then I want you to go some 
place where they have fruit. Gift. pack- 
ages of fruit, 1 want you to get a basket 
filled with fruit, and some cheeses, may 
be a bottle of booze, and I want you 
to bring it back to my parents. Get the 
biggest one they got. Spend fifty bucks or 
something." 

He took a bill out of hi: 
nded it 
driver. 

"1 know just the spot, Mr. Lewis,” the 
driver said. met place. Very 
high-class.” 

Lewis nodded 1 back in the seat. 
They should have something nice up 
there in case company comes," he said, 
rewinding the tape. “It doesn’t look good. 
for people to come up and not see any- 
thing there 


wallet and 
cross the front seat to the 


The driver started the limousine and. 


io the stream of пас. 
Lewis was listening to the tape of his fa- 
ther's voice once again as the car drove 
off down the street. 


nosed it out 


ing cof- 
g poundcake with a fork 
"Used to be groovy,” he said with his 
mouth full. 

“Used to be, used to be,” Lewis said, 
walking back into the bedroom. "Now. 
it sucks.” 

He switched on the television and 
n to go through one of the dresser 
‘The people here know from 
Кыйы. Nothing do they know. They 
know ‘shit’ and they know “fuck,” and 
anything else is out of their leagu 

He slammed the drawer shut and at- 
tacked another. "If you don't open with 
"fuck; you bomb. “Hickory dickery dock, 
the mouse ran up the clock; fuck him, 
let him stay there.’ Then youre a hit." 

He slammed the second d shut 
Do a 
c that starts, "Two Jews fucked a 
‚7 and then you're home free. 


nd rcappeared in the doorway. 


rout 
276 sheep. 


He went back into the bedroom and 
looked at the television. It was showing a 
telethon that was being held in the 
Miami arca to raise money for children's 
diseases. It was being hosted by a local 
personality. a fat emcee with a leathery 
tan, 

“And I want to make this plea from. 
the bottom of my heart . . ." the fat emcee 
маз saying. 

Ihe bottom of you 
„ you local picce of Мі ” Lewis 
shouted at the television. "Fucking ama- 
teurs. Don't. know anything about put- 
on a fucking telethon. Might as well 
stay in the fucking bed, for all the money 
they'll raise." 

He went into the living room and 
walked over to the bar. "You know whi 
pisses me off most about this fucking 


heart is in your 


Ha 


ey did not answer, 
his coffee, 

105 not that fucking stadium we 

ith all the empty chairs, 

g himself some win 

with all his fuck- 

king com- 

ions"—he drank the 


just sipped 


“and it’s not Milton 
nd 


ing rehcarsing, 
ints and sugge 


bout Miami is the fucking people. 
The fucking insensitivity of the people.” 


"You shouldn't let it get to you," Н 
vey said. 


“They don't know any better 
поша know better,” Lewis 

voice rising. "They re adults. I’m 
going to punch somebody in the mouth 
pretty soon. 

He poured another drink. “They come 
ab you. They grab your 
id you sce that guy in the 
lobby today? Grabs my fucking arm and 
says, ‘Hey, stay here, Jerry, you gotta sa 
hello to my wile.’ I gotta say hello to his 

ile? I told him to take his fucking 


holes everywhere,” Har- 
"What are you going to do; 

"There's no excuse for bad 
Lewis said. “There's no excuse for bad 
taste. They treat you just like an object. 
They act like you were the Statue of 
fucking Liberty. Well, I'm not going 
through that lobby that’s all. 101 
't get on without going through the 
fucking lobby, then 1 don't go ¢ 
Jewa-Rama down there. Wall-to- 
Jews." He swallowed the rest of his 
1E I stay here much longer, F'u 
end up sending money to the Arabs." 
om the television set in the bed- 
room, the fat emcee said, "And the 
phone calls were just not coming in like 
they should while the Harrington Quar- 
tet was performing so beautifully. . . .” 

“They can’t call when they're. warch- 
ing the talent, you fucking fruitcake,” 
Lewis yelled back. “They call after the 
Harrington fucking Quartet goes off. 
Jesus Christ Almighty!” 

He poured another glass of win 


draining the оше. He looked at the emp- 
ty wine bottle a moment, then slammed 
it against the wall. “I christen this hotel 
“Motherfucker!” he shouted. "Pull out 
the pilings, you sons of bitches!” 
He disappeared into the bedroom and 
ack with a can of lighter fluid. 
he called to Harvey. “Watch 


carefully. 

He poured some of the lighter fluid 

nto a glass ashtray, struck a match and 
dropped it in. The ashtray went up 
burst of flame. “The Great Super Jew 
and Hi ng Ashtray!" Lewis sho 
ed. “Spe e, O Burning Asht 

Harvey went over to the bar and put 
tray with a boule of Coca-Cola. 
Lewis was in the bathroom pouring light- 
fluid into the toilet. He tossed ii 
match and the bowl ignited. 

“Keep your eves on the fucking fire!” 
Lewis shouted. “Anyone who grabs the 
Super Jew's coat will have to contend 
with my firepower! 

Harv 


10 the bathroom and 
peared 


ng man 
“And now for the greatest feat of all!” 
Lewis yelled. He sprinkled the lighter 
uid in а trail across the bathrooms tile 
floor. He threw on a math and the 
bathroom lit up with a roar. 

hat" Lewis 
flames. “That's it, burn! Burn, you moth- 
erfucker! Burn down the fucking hotel! 
Burn down the whole fucking tow 


iching Ше 


n countryside appeared 
rough the clouds, like a rab- 
bit pulled out of a hat; misty, gray-green 
fields clamped with wee d steep- 
ly under the wing of the 747 as it made 
ch to Frankfurts Rhein-Main 


The air on the ground was chilly and 
damp and beads of moisture splattered 
across the windows of the pl it rum- 
bled in a great arc toward the concrete- 
modern terminal building and came to a. 
stop in the early-morning haze. 

Lewis came off the plane wearing а 
short green topcoat and sunglasses. He 
was followed by the five members of his 
staff, all looking tired and rumpled. 

They were met by enthusiastic 
young man from the airline, a blond- 
haired German dressed in a navy blazer, 
who informed Lewis that there was a pri- 
vate jet wi m lo Cologne, 
where Lewis was performing, but first he 
would take them upstairs to a lounge, 
where they could have some сойее. 

They took an escalator to the upper 
level. The young man ushered them into 


the young man beamed. 
haps take a scat in here, or, 
if you would prefer, we can swing on 
o the leather room.” With a gesture, 
he indicated an adjoining room furnished 
with leather couches and an enormous 


bar. which, at 8:30 in the morning, was 
deserted. 

The Lewis group looked at the voung 
man with tired eyes. They swung on into 
the leather room. 

A pretty, dark-haired girl in а blue uni 
form felt a small desk across the room. 
and went over to take orders for coffee 
and juice. 

The young man from the airline ap- 
proached Lewis and said that there was а 
porter outside from one of the radio 
stations wondering whether Lewis could 
spare а few minutes for an interview 
Lewis nodded wearily and removed his 
dark glasses. 

The young man brought in the report- 
ег, a massive, dominating man with a 
great beard. He shook hands formally 
with Lewis and began to unpack a tape 
recorder. 

The dark-haired girl appeared with a 

tray. She served cups of coffee and glasses 
of tomato juice to several members of 
the group, then went for the rest of 
the order, 
No ass on that chick" Lou Brown 
said, watching her walk away. "Nice legs, 
nice tis" He sipped his tomato. juice. 
“No ass,” 

Harvey stirred his coflec and smiled 
across the room at the girl. She smiled 
back demurcly. “So she's shooting two for 
three,” he said. "And she hasn't even 
d up yet. 

The bearded reporter had started his 
machine and he squatted on his heels in 
front of Lewis, holding a microphone. 
Tell me, Mr. Lewis,” he said in per 
fect English, “what I would first like to 
К you is wheel ik of yourself 
having a publi s in your films, 
and another separate private face, whicit 
the public perhaps docs not see.” 

“Well,” Lewis began iu a tired voice. 
“Well. I think that every performer, not 
just myself, projects a certain special 

when he is functioning publicly, as 
or an actor. This image is 
п extension of that person's total person. 
ality, although the public often sees ou 
a single face” 

He stopped as the dark-haired girl low 
ered а coffee cup in front of his face. 
He looked up at her and then back at 
the reporter 

ЗА single facet,” he said, then stepped. 
He rubbed his eyes and looked again. 
the girl 

"Cream id politely- 

Lewis looked from the girl to the n 
crouched in front of him, holding the n 
Gophone in expectation. Then he cov- 
ered his face with his hand 
to laugh 

The reporter smiled uncert 
hind his thick beard, as if 
share in something he did not quite un- 
derstand. After few moments, with 
Lewis still laughing, the smile collapsed 


t 


^ she s: 


nd be; 


an 


ily be- 
ıxious to 


like a balloon losing air and the man 
pushed the stor button on the recorder 


"That was sen: 


tional, Jerry!" the di- 
rector said, walking toward the front ol 
the stage. He came through the wooden 
chairs and the music stands, and his image 
bounced onto the half-dozen monitors 
that were spotted around the subi 
nean television studio. He w 
handsomelooking German, with slightly 
g hair 

"Where are you, Jerry?” he called out 
“That was magnificent!” 
Lewis, dressed in janitors blue over- 
ls. came through а door and walked over 
to where the director was standing, 

“Sensational, Jerry!" the director re. 
peated. “And on the first taki 
Yeah. I thought it went well," Lewis 
stid calmly. “Let's look at it and see.” 

The director called up to the control 
booth and asked for the tape to be 
played back. The members of the crew 
began to form groups in front of the 
itors, waiting for Lewis’ performance 
as a janitor conducting an imaginary or 
chestra in an empty concert hall. 

The monitors buzzed, and then Lewis, 
dressed in overalls and pushing а broom. 


gr: 


mot 


= 


came onto the screen. The people stand- 
g in the back of a group raised them- 
selves up on their woes to get a beuer 
look. 

The German television crew seemed to 
find the sketch hysterically funny. 
faughed loudly and appreciatively 
through the video-tape playback. picking 
up on every nuance of Lewis’ perform- 
ance, and when it was over, they broke 
into а vigorous round of applause: 

Lewis 
the monitor with his arms folded and no 
expression on his face, acknowledged the 
applause with a smile. Then he turned 


who had watched himself on 


and looked at the director, who was 
standing next to him. 
“Your timing is brilliant,” the director 
said admiringly. “Absolutely brilliant." 
nodded, and then he said, 
"What's next?” 


The reporters gathered in front ol 
Lewis in a large g 
pencils and folded pieces of colored 
paper. Lewis sat facing them in а metal 
chair, with his cassette recorder resting on 
his lap, his tuxedo tie pulled loose and 
his shirt unbuttoned at the throat. 

It was almost six o'clock in the суспі 


oup. holding yellow 


277 


and the taping of Lewis’ show had just 
ended. In the background, there was a 
hum of German voices as the television 
crew wrapped up after the day's shoot- 
ng. A bank of the bright overhead lights 
was switched off ‘and one section of the 
studio went dark. 
Mr: Lewis,” one of the reporters said, 
“the European attic, especially the 
French critics, seem to appreciate your 
work more than the American critics do. 
Why do you think that is so? 
"Well, it’s not only the critics,” 
1. He settled himself into the de 
“Its all Europe, they've all been very 
good to me. They've acknowledged my 
work and they look upon it as they look 
at all cinema. They look a little more 
carefully than they do in Americi, thats 
all. And Гуе been very fortunate that the 
ropean audicnce has grown lor me 
па gotten larger over time. as ihe 
people here have viewed my films and ac 
cepted them. The French audience was 
there first; and now it’s happened in Bel- 
in the Netherlands, in пау, 
Spain has become the biggest 
club of fanatics that I have, of late. And 
the last film 1 made took more money 
out of Germany than any three films of 
mine did cumulatively in the past. See, 1 
have ro come to Europe when my ego 
gets way down, after the American critics 
Start то pound me into the cement 
Three days in Europe and I feel good 
n, and then I go home.” 
Lewis la 


PLAYBOY 


Lewis 


ghed loudly and the report 
ers laughed with h 

“The diflerence is not in the audi- 
,” Lewis said. "I think the American 
nce is just as good as the Furopean 
audience. But the critics are something 
else. 1 heard that a critic once said the 
dirtiest words in America are Doris Day, 
Jerry Lewis and John Wayne. Now, 1 
really don't know what the hell that 
jeans. I guess it’s because I won't photo- 
graph nudity or make dirty films or what- 
ever—I don't know, But I'm just going 
to continue to do what I do, without 
changing my game plam, and Im not 
really worried that it doesn't appeal to 
some people 

“What about the American TV audi 
ence?” one man said. “You had your own 
show, but you stopped it.” 

"Yeah. No. / didn't stop it” 

“Really?” the man said. He sounded 
surprised. “The ratings, you mean?” 


Dh, sure, that's what stops all telev 
ings. Some of 


the finest 
went off 


the 
“Because 
sponsorship? 


they could no longer get 
the man said 
Well, it’s almost impossible to expl. 
the ratings.” Lewis said. "The ratings go 
to twelve hundred families, and that’s 
supposed to represent sixty-four million 
households.” He made a gesture of dis- 
27g belief. "Well, 1 just can't equate that, you 


sec. 1 can equate the success of a film by 
the box-office receipts, but television has 
no box office. And they need some sort of 
a guide, so they use the ratings as 
guide. But it's a grossly unfair measure 
to have to work with, and very frustrating 
хе person. So rather than fight 
at particular system, 1 just choose to 
y from television 


cab ual you accept it? 
n said with a smile. 

Under a couple" Lewis looked at 
the floor and thought а moment. “There 
would be some conditior 

Lewis looked ar the young man and he 
stopped smi e what? he asked 
Lewis. 

“Like changing the A 
structure and making it fair,” Lew 
"What bothers me is that there's 
tegory for comedy, nothing that 
knowledges my craft or the people who 
have gone before me, who were the very 
reason we have à dustry. At 
least acknowledge their existence. They 
got categories in the Academy for the guy 
who invented a new bulb for the men's 


one young. 


Award 


ademy 


room. but they haven't got one for 
comedy. 
“Just think that it took them forty 


some years to honor Chaplin. Now, that 
angered me; that was wrong. And when 
Tsaw Mr. Chaplin walk out on that stage, 
not even totally aware of what was going 
on, all 1 could think of was, ‘Why'd they 
so long? 

Lewis paused for a moment and 
watched as several men and women 
wheeled a piece of scenery across the 
room. “The Academy,” he said finally, 

just very unfair.” 

“What about. your 
the Clown Cried? 
t or is 


w film, The Day 
Is there any comic 
straight drama 


picture? 
“Absolutely эша 
“Could you give 


Lewis said. 
s some details of 


the story 
^I could, but I'd prefer not to. 
“When will it be released?” 
"Fm editing it now," Lewis said, “It’s 
a little difficult to say when it will be re- 
leased, because Im being so cns 
bout how irs going to be handled. 
don't want it handled just like the re- 
lease of another film; it has to be special. 
And if I can't get the releasing people 
who can do what I know is right for the 
picture, then I'll have to do it myself. It's 
a funny thing about releasing a film. The 
last picture I made, well. 
Lewis shook his head and laughed. 
“Hardly anyone in America saw it.” he 
id. "My own children didn't even see it 
theater; I had to тип it at home for 
That was because Warner Bros. 
the company 1 made the film for, had 
another film out at the same time, called 
Woodstock, and they were using all of 
their energies and resources to push tha 
film. And there was just nothing left 


over, so my picture died without ever 
ting a chance. It broke my heart, because 

knew I had made a good movie that 
body in my counuy was ever 
Now. that's the problem of 
distribution, The fate of your work rests 
the hands of some distributor or some 
studio, and if they have some porno- 
graphic film they feel they can make 
more moncy with, then you just have to 
take the consequences. So I'm thinking 
of doing it myself” 

In 1960, when you started to direct 
your own films, did that also mean, at 
that point, that you were dissatisfied 
with the directors vou. worked with or 
with your work in gene 

"No. І was very satished. 1 worked 
with some of the finest directors in the 
medium. I worked with Frank Tashlin 
ıd Norman Taurog and George Mar- 
shall—1 learned from these men, they 
were my teachers. But I knew 1 couldn't 
ways get the director I wanted when I 
needed him, so 1 decided that I would 
have tol nd do it myself. I certainly 
wasn't going to sit still and not make 
Ims because J couldn't get the best 
decided I was going to be the best. Whi 
Tam not, not yet. But 1 will be.” 

Lewis stopped as the reporters all wrote 
that down. 

“Maybe Tuesda 


he added. 


The driver took the small red Mer- 
cedes through the narrow streets of Co- 
logne at top speed and never turned his 
head to offer any commentary on the 
scener 

The weather was cold and the city 
looked dark and depressing under the 
heavy, lead-colored sky as it slid past the 
windows of the car. 

The Mercedes hit a puddle and skid- 
ded around a corner in a slight drift, shot 
up a small cobbled streer with heavily 
barred antiqueshop windows on either 
side, took another corner without. brak- 
ing and roared down a slightly wider 
boulevard crowded with departmentstore 
shoppers bundled against the weather 
amd carrying wrapped. parcels. 

"Hey, look, I wonder if those a 
of the students they told us about, 
vey He pointed out the window 
toward the sidewalk. Mixed in with the 
shoppers was a group of young people, 
walking together in а tight bunch. 
Where are their picket signs?” Harvey 
said. “Whe their Molotov cock- 
tailsz" 

The day before, Lewis had gotten 
word that his 90-minute one-man concert 
had been canceled because the city of Co- 
logne had experienced a week of student. 
protests and demonstrations. The G 
mam people had been vague as to the 
exact nature of the student unrest, but 
it was being described along the same 
lines as the riots that had occurred in 
Panis in the late Sixties, and there had ap 
parently been several incidents that had 


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PLAYBOY 


pproached that state of intensity and 
violence. 

they think these kids were going 
to toss a bomb onstage while you were 
singing Rock-a-Bye Your Baby, or what?” 
vey said. 

They didn't know what was going to 
happen,” Lewis said, looking out at the 
side ut there were so many digni- 
taries and political big shots coming to 
the show that they just didn't feel they 
could provide adequate security. And you 
can believe they were plenty worried 
to kiss away all that mon 

“You still geuing paid? 

“Oh, sure,” Lewis s 
nothing.” 

‘Come sight-secing in Cologne, folks!” 
Harvey said. "And now, ladies and gen- 
tlemen, if you look to the left of the bus, 
you will see Cologne's famous student 
rioters, coming after your ass! Just w; 
till they put on their brown shirts, then 
we'll really sec some 

The blond-haired driver raised his eyes 
to the rearview mirror for an instant, 
then looked quickly ahead. 

Ihe Mercedes looped around 
em-locking skyscraper, a straight shaft of 
concrete and dark glass, and burst upon 
Cologne's famous cathedral. 

The cathedral was covered with scaf- 
folding for repairs and it resembled 
the illustrations from Gullivers Travels 
showing a giant from another world 
bles and covered 
h tiny figures scam- 


mod- 


d onto a small side street 
and came to a jolting stop as a large truck 
backed out of a warehouse into the mid- 
dle of the road. The driver blew his horn. 
in annoyance, but the truck just sat 
blocking the way. 

By the side of the road, there was anoth- 
er group of young people, larger than the 
one in the shopping district. They were 
standing in front of a high brick wall on 
which several words in German had been 


written in giant letters with a can of 
black spray paint. One of the words, not 
in German, was NIXON. 


"What does that say?” Lev 
driver. He pointed to the wall. 

The driver looked over at the letter- 
ing, then back at the truck that was still 
in the middle of the street. He seemed 
both embarrassed and annoyed. 
he said, half turning 
1 of some kind.” 

Yeah, but what does it say? 
said. 

‘The driver turned his head away and. 
honked his horn again, angrily. He 
swered without turning back. 

"hd 
driver 
cans and their war. The words say they 
are murderers. 

The young people stood by the wall, 


asked the 


Lewis 


280 staring out silently at the street. They 


huddled in front of the thick black letters 
protectively, as if they were guarding 
them from theft. They didn't say any- 
thing to anybody, They didn’t talk or 
laugh among themselves and they didn’t 
call out to people passing by. They just 
stood and looked. 

The driver gave another impatient 
blast on his horn, and finally the truck 
started up again and lumbercd out of the 
way with all the solemnity of a Rose 
Bowl float. The Mercedes jumped for- 
ward with a neck-snapping lurch. 

Lewis swiveled in his scat and looked 
out the back window at the group on the 
sidewalk. As the Mercedes zoomed down 
the narrow street, the silent students and 
their guarded graffito fell back into the 
gathering dusk. 


“There she is" Lewis said. “There's 
the lile cunt. 

He braked the Movieola with his hand 
and made а grease-pencil mark on the 
film. It cut across the face of a beautiful 
blonde teenage girl. 

Same little cunt who tried to r 


before,” Lewis sa 


pe us 
|. "Watch her eyes.” 

The machi the Los Angeles 
dio made a ratchery sound as Lewis 
backed up the film. He stopped it, start- 
ed it forward again and cupped 
against the rim of the su 
block out the glare from the overhead 
ight. 

The screen showed a trucking shot 
down the length of 
Crowded behind the fence wa 
children dressed in ragged clothi 
ahead with vacant eyes, 
standing completely still. The children’s 
faces were all Europ and they 
d the same pathetic expressions as the 
faces found on CARE posters. 

The blonde girl stood toward the end 
of the line. As the camera passed in front 
of her, an almost imperceptible smile 
showed up at the corners of her mouth 
and her eyes drifted over to the side, fol- 
lowing the lens of the camera as it moved 
along. As soon as her eyes shifted toward 
the right-ha 
grease mark cut her face 
Lewis braked the machine. 

"There" he said. "See it? Following 
the fucking camera.” 

Lewis turned and looked at Rusty 
Wiles, his cutter, who sat on a stool with 
his arms folded, looking at the screen 
over Lewis’ shoulder. 

“Bet you didn't see that before,” Lewis 


u- 


nd side of the screen, the 


two and 


“Oh. I saw it,” the cutter said, nod- 
ding. “But that kid right before her had 
such a good look on his face and he'd 
have to go, too, if we cut. It's so close. 
Lewis backed the film up and looked 


y little bitch,” Lewis said, 


shaking his head. “Vamping for the cam- 
cra. She pulled that same thing in an- 
other sequence. remember?" 

The cutter nodded. Lewis looked at 
the girl on the screen for a moment. 

“I told her to keep her fucking eyes to. 
the front,” Lewis said. “That it wasnt a 
beauty pageant. On the big screen, those 
eyes атс going to pop right over as big 
fe." 

Pretty face, though," the cutter said. 

“Yeah,” Lewis said. "Everybody wants 
to be a star. Cut her out.’ 

Lewis stepped away from the Movieola 

nd the cutter wheeled himself over on 
his stool, removed the film from the ma- 
chine and took it over to a bench to recu 
the scene. 

Lewis went 10 а small refrigerator in 
onc corner of the room and took out a 
can of beer. He turned on a portable 
color-television sct and sat down in front 
of it with the beer to wait for the cutter 
to finish. 

“Hey, look, Rusty!” Lewis called out, 
pointing to the set. “Sherlock Holmes is 
on Ше tube. 

The cutter looked over his shoulder. He 
odded and turned back to the bench. 
On the screen, Basil Rathbone and 
Nigel Bruce stood above the body of 
elderly man lying in a pool of blood in 
a handsomely appointed English drawing 
ne locked thoughtfully at 


George had held something 
nd at the time that he was murdered. 
“A matchbook, 1 should think, by the 


look of it," Rathbone said, puffing on 
his pipe 
“Jesus,” Lewis said, drinking from the 


ows everythi 


this fucking 
1 Rathbone. He'll get the guy by the 
next reel,” 
The cutter si 
scene and thr 


that he had fixed the 
to the Movicola. 
nd stood next to him 
and they watched the film. 

"Much better,” Lewis said when it wa 
over. “Hundred percent better. There's 
no room for Shirley Temple in a concen- 
n camp. What else have you got for 
ned the can of beer and 
tossed it into a meta asket. 


aded 


I've got this sequence with the guard 
few 


that 1 shortened а lite. It'll take a 
minutes to put together.” He whe 
If back to his bench, Lew 
down in front of the television. 
You know the scene where the guy 
gets shot?” the cutter said as he worked. 
“Yeah,” Lewis said. “What about it? 
“Well, when you showed the film last 
weck, a couple of people asked me if I 
didn't think that ran a little long." 
“They didn't say anything to me; 
Lewis said. getting up from his cha 
“What do you mean, ‘lon 
The cutter shrugged. "Just long, 1 
guess. The guy is on the screen a long 


“Be sure to lel me know when it's close to twelve o'clock, sweetheart, 
so we can wish each other a Happy New Year." 


281 


PLAYBOY 


282 


time. He takes a long time to die. 

“Well, Jesus Christ, Rusty," Lewis s 
“that scene's going to be an opti 
got faces of kids playing over that scene 
that 1 have to put in. It's not even fin- 
ished yet." 


“I know.” the cutter said. “I told them 


had something planned ther 

“People don't even know how to look 

t a rough cut of a fucking film. 
said, his voice getting louder. " 
ng worked on. I still have things to do 
with 

“Well,” the cutter said, “J toll” 
What if I came up to а guy who was 
building a house, and he just had the 
frame up, and 1 stand there asking him 
why there aren't any windows in it yet. 
How fucking stupid can you get 

Lewis began to pace angrily about the 
room. 

“Everybody's an expert" he said. 
here's a fucking genius at every sere’ 
ing. Where were they when the empty 
pages were in the typewriter? Where were 
they when we were freezing in fucking 
Sweden, shooting the film? Too long? 
Jesus Christ!” 

“I just mentio 


n- 


Thats a 1 dram; 
know that 

The cutter nodded and again began to 
work on the film in front of him. 

“Te was the same thing with the dance 
sequence in The Patsy.” Lewis said. 
‘And 1 told them then that they should 
just wait till it was fucking finished 


cruc 


tic point, you 


before they go telling me what's wrong 
with it. Just wait till I'm ready 


1 front 
w who the 
y" he 


Lewis went back and sat down 
n. “I don't kn 


of the televis 
fuck asked for their opinion, anys 
said over his shoulder. 

The Sherlock Holmes movie went off 
and a car salesman came onto the screen 
standing in front of a tired-looking con- 
vertible. Lewis flipped the dial and 
stopped at Jack Paar's program. 

Paar was explaining that he was going 
to show an exclusive film of the gymnas- 
tic team from the People's Republic of 
China. “It is quite honestly one of the 
most remarkable exhibitions I think th 
1 have ever witnessed,” Paar said. 

“Oh, shut up and put on the China 
men," Lewis said. He got up and went to 
the refrigerator for another can of beer 
е gymnasts beg: 
h some metal rings, which were so 
licately arranged that any body contact 
all would knock them over. The me 
passed through them with effordess 
grace 
“Big fucking deal," Lewis said. 
nd out of the rings. If they could just 
work on getting the shirts done right, 
that would be enough. 

Wiles turned around to look at the set. 
“I don't know,” he said, “That looks sort 
of difficult to me.” 

‘Oh, yeah?" Lewis said, opening the 
beer can. “Let me tell you something. 1f 
the rings don't show up, they got no act." 


пе, stood. 


Joseph Lewis. aged mi mo- 
tionless in deep left field, wearing an 


"He's on something!” 


enormous glove on his hand and a grcen- 

ad-white uniform. 

I's а shame he doesn't have more to 
Mrs. Lewis said. "But at least he’s 


do, 
playin, 
There's not much going on 
outfield in this league," Lewis said. 
you live to play out the season." 

"He looks so small out there," Mis. 
Lewis said. "And in that uniform 

Lewis knelt on one of the ble 
seats and squinted through а 6mm 
era he had set up on an aluminum tripod 
in front of him. He panned the camera 
toward left field. 

“1 don't know why vou brought such a 

Lis. Lewis said. 

"1 told you 1 was going to take some 
pictures of the baseball player," Lewis 
id, framing Joseph in the viewer. 
1 thought you just meant regular pic 
tures,” Mrs. Lewis said. "With a hand 
come 


1 the 
But 


u can carry this camera in your 
hand,” Lewis said, still looking through 
the lens. “Come on, Joby, do somethit 
out there. 

Several of the parents sitting nearby 
stared at nd his movie сате 


Lewis 


id sud 
moved! Your kid moved! 

"What did he do?” Mrs, Lewis said, 
looking out at her son. 

Something with his arm,” Lewis said, 
ring the zoom lens. "I got it on fil 

Alter three batters had come and gone, 
the side was retired. Lewis took movies 
of his son walking in from left field. 

"I don't know what I’m going to do 
when he gets up to but,” 1 
don't think ГИ be able to watch.” 

Joseph came to bat with two outs and 
He stood at the plate as 
erect and motionless as he had been in 
the field, and he held the bat directly 
in front of him, perpendicular to the 
ground, like a pole vaulter during the 
ging, of the al anh 
The first pitch went well over his head 
and Joseph did 


- “He 


we 


said. “I 


a runner on fii 


ot 


ove à musc 
ch yelled 


Good eye, Joseph!” the coa 


e lin 

“Good eye?" Lewis said from behind 
the camera. "He's scared stil. He doesn't 
know what the hell he's doing. I can't 
keep looking, Mom 

Joseph took two more high pitches 
without ever moving out of position 

"One more.” Lewis said. "Come om, 
you little bastard, throw one more lousy 
pitch. 

But before the ү 


from the 


cher could go imo 


his windup, the runner on first broke 
away for second base. The umpire imme- 
diately c grounds 


la 
base before a pitch is thrown. 
Suddenly, the field was filled w 


people. The other team, whooping loudly. 
began to run in for its turn at bat. Jo- 
seph's team was on its feet and circling 
the umpire, protesting the call. The 
couch argued vehemently that, according 
to the rules, the runner had only to re- 
turn to first and was not out. The other 
coach rushed over, shaking his head. 

Throughout all the commotion, Jo- 
seph stood exactly as he had before, com- 
pletely still, with the bat pointing straight 
up in the air. 

"You tell him, coach!” 
shouted in encouragement. 
pire docsn't know the rules! 

“Jesus Christ!” Lewis said, following 
the action with the camera, "My kid's in 
the middle of a riot. And he still isn't 
doing anything.” 

Finally, it was decided that the runner 
was not out. The opposing tcam would 
return to the field and the runner would 
return to fast base. Joseph was still at 
bat and he watched without blinking as 
he was thrown a fourth high pitch. 

Joseph set the bat down neatly and 
walked to first base. 

“Thank God," Lewis said, panning 
with him as he took the base. “Не got 
on” 

Lewis shut off the camera and sat 
down with a loud sigh. Mrs. Lewis ap- 
plauded and waved across the field at 
her son. 


Mrs. Lewis 
“That um- 


“You did good today, Joby,” Lewis 
said as they went into the house. “You 
got on base and you didn’t get out.” 

"What's so good about walking?" Jo- 
seph asked. He set his glove and cap 
down on the hall table. “I didn't get 
a hit.” 

"Well, that was the fault of the pitch- 
er" Mrs. Lewis s "He didn't throw 
you anything that you could hit. Beside: 
it docsn't matter how you get on base, it's 
getting there that counts. Right, Daddy?” 

"Right" Lewis said. "And tomorrow 
you and I will go out and practice stand- 
ing with the bat. A little practice with 
your old man and you'll be ready for 
the majors 

"In a year or two," 
with. ile. 

Lewis told Joseph that he had a pres- 
cnt for him and went upstairs. Hc came 
back down with a giant assortment of 
crayons in a flat metal box covered with 
cellophane. 

"I went to the stationery store to get 
some pens," Lewis said, “and I saw thi 
I thought you might like it.” 

Joseph thanked his father for the gift 
and sat down to open it. The box had a 
decorated lid that had been removed 
from its hinge and wrapped against the 
bottom of the tray, so thar the crayons 
could be displayed through the cello- 


Mrs. Lewis said 


phane. Joseph took both halves of the box 
and began to put them together. 

“Here, let me help you with that,” 
Lewis said, taking the box in his hands. 
“These are tricky sometimes.” 

Lewis sat down next to his son and 
tied to fit the lid onto the hinge. He 
worked with it for a few minutes, but the 
lid kept popping loose. 

"Just one minute more," Lewis said 
slowly, concentrating. “This litle wire 
has to slide in there, Joby, see? See the 
little space? But it keeps coming out." 

The telephone rang and Mrs. Lewis 
came into the room to tell her husband 
that there was a longdistance phone call 
for him from Germany. 

"OK," Lewis said without looking up 
from the box. “I'll be there in a second. 
Just as soon as I get tliis put together.” 

Mrs. Lewis watched him struggle un- 
successfully for almost a minute, and 
then she said, “Daddy, you better take 
this call. They » , 

Lewis nodded and kept working. Mrs 
Lewis left the room and came rushing 
back a few seconds later. 

"Daddy!" she sai 
rect! Please come to the phone 

“My son is waiting for me. 
as thc lid went popping 
again. "I have to finish this." 
"You can do that later," 
said. 

Lewis did not answer, just kept work- 
ing with the hinge. 

"Lewis!" Mrs. Lewis 
the call! Do that later. 

"Can you wait a few minutes while 
Daddy takes this call?" Lewis said to his 
son. “Then I'll fix this for you, OK?" 

"Tl wy,” Joseph said. 

“You'll try and wait?” Lewis said, get- 
ting up. 

“TI wy to fix 


Lewis said, 
no his Jap 


Mrs. Lewis 


aid finally. “Take 


,” Joseph said. 

Lewis set the box down and went into 
the next room. Joseph took the bos and 
put it on his lap. He looked at it for a 
while, then took the crayons out of it and 
turned it over and looked at it some 
more. Finally, he picked up the lid and. 
began to work it onto the hinge. After a 
few minutes, the lid dicked and fell into 
place. Joseph raised and lowered it ex- 
perimentally а couple of times and it 
moved on the hinge smoothly. He was 
putting the crayons back in as Lewis 
returned. 

Joseph smiled at his father and worked. 
the lid for him. 

"Oh," Lewis said. 
together, Joby 

“I put the wire through that bump,” 

Joseph said. “Right there.” He held the 
box out and indicated the spot. 
"That's very good, sweetheart," Lewis 
id. He picked up the crayon box and 
studied the hinge. “I guess Daddy must 
have been doing it wrong.” 


“Did you get it put 


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PLAYBOY 


284 


IM OKYOURE 50-50 (continued from page 213) 


enlighten Farrow and 
the Beatles vowed to devote the rest of 
their lives for several weeks.) Currently, 
devotees begin by assuming the lotus 
position. They then pick up a Princess 
phone, dial Paris information and go 
“Ummm . . ." into the receiver. Within 
hours, a sense of inner peace, tranquillity 
and extra message units prevails. Draw- 
back: Even true believers find this tech- 
nique unbclicvably expensive. 

* Tantric Yoghurt. Another corruption 
of a fine idea. Practitioners start with 
traditional deep breathing and proceed 
with other exercises until they are com- 
fortably standing on their head. At thi 
point, a practitioner dips his hands 
а large bowl of Dannon’s (plain) and 
smears it about the face and shoulders of 

another practitioner, thus achieving onc- 
nesi—or, tops, twoness. Drawback: This 
technique leaves people moldy. 

= Primal Sneeze Therapy. Yet another 
helpful idea gone awry. Devotees of this 
system are urged to sneeze freely in hopes 
of eliciting the one, final explosion that 
will unleash all of their frustrations. In 
its ultimate phase, the program requires 
that a person take a pinch of ground 
Mexican gens inh: 


proved effective in the short run, re- 
peated p on eventually means 
the patient must withdraw from therapy, 

s he has no nose. 

‘These past failures must not blind us to 
techniques that really do work, that can 
effectively bring us into harmony with 
ourselves and with others. Such a tech- 
nique is the I'm OK—You're 50-50 life 
position. First, let us examine what we 
mean by “OK.” All right. Next, let us ex- 
amine the five possible life positions held 
with respect to ourselves and othe 

1. гм Nor ox—vou'RE ок. This is the 
universal position of early childhood, 
being the infant’s logical conclusion that 
he is inferior and helpless, while eve 
one else is superior, self-confident and 
the kind of man who reads Gallery. If his 
life script does not change, this indi- 
vidual will go through life curisying in 
the presence of others, since it is too pain- 
ful to stand around OK people. 

2. гм Nor OK—YOU'RE NOT ок. This is 
the condition of a person who started out 
the I'm Not OKR—You're OK life posi- 
tion, received no support or love and was 
often put to the rack by his parents. He 
concludes that he is worthless and that 
everyone else is, too, and so develops an. 
intense hostility to his fellow men. This 
is the kind of individual who should not, 
for example, be given a position in an 
lerground missile silo. 
3. ум ока оқ. This is 
ıe condition that occi 


n extremely 
only when 


individual who is about to de: 

life position suddenly gets the 
4. I'M OR—YOU'RE A TAXI, 

condition, limited to hotel doormen 

When a guest says “Call me a taxi, 

the doorm: 

taxi! You're a 


1 type 
dividual does not keep his life posi- 
tion for long. 

5. IM Ok—YOU'RE 5050. This 


is the 
posit ies our hope for a 
welladjusted life. It posits that while 
we have a strong certainty of our own 
we're not 
so sure about the other guy. And in a 
€ when we are confronted almost 
daily with people who demand instant 
relationships, total honesty and, fre- 
quently, our money, it is this technique 
that will give us peace of mind. 

In order to make the I'm OK—You're 
SoSo life p n work for us, we must 
first realize that every human personality 
is made up of three separate components 
constantly batting for control: the 
Child, the Adult and the Snot. For was 
it not Dr. Eric Boise who stated in his 
seminal thesis, Transactional Analysis in 
Pseudopsychotherapy, that these three 
components were mot “problematical 
and ethereal concepts like superego, ego 
nd id . . . but phenomenological rea 
ties"? Was it not also the good Dr. Boise 
who added, “I rarely comprehend a word 
Tsay"? 

It is the Child 
leads us into tr 
we are not OK 


ty that 
g that 
nd everyone else is. The 
Child is a state into which we may be 
transferred at almost any time; it is the 
state in which we demand reassurance, 
which we are provoked to childlike anger 
nd selEassertion, in which we use our 
Каа to write on the walls. 

It is the Adult component that allows 
us to enter transactions fecling that we 
are OK and that the person or persons 
we're dealing with are also OK, It is the 
state in which we attain some measure of 
wisdom and understanding, feel at peace 
with ourselves, relate to others with a 
minimum of friction and can buy booze 
legally. 

The optimum state to develop, the 
component we need to bring into a con- 
roll It is the 
Snot that helps us realize that we are con- 
stantly confronted with people who are 
clearly inferior to us. Where the rational 
Adult can see only the good and the bad 
points in another person, the Snot per- 
ceives a мам sea of mediocrity. Jt i 
Snot that protects us from aging hippies 
who “want to get into our head,” from 
encounter groupies who want to "touch" 
us, for God's sake, from girlfriends who 
want us to be “completely open” with 
them. The Snot in us cultivates disdain. 


position, is the Snot. 


It harbors suspicions avidly, snicke 
often. It makes the a priori assumption 
that other people will invariably turn. 
out to be cretins. 

To illustrate, let us take an everyday 
example. You're a father, and two-year- 
old Johnny has taken his yacht beyond 
the three mile limit while you lie on the 
beach. Raquel Welch, who is aboard the 
yacht (she is married to Johnny), pushes 
the little tot overboard. Johnny cannot 
swim, being two years old. A stranger just 
down the beach from you sees what has 
happened and swims rapidly out to him. 
swim back, the stranger 


you still lie, He looms over you, panting, 
Tittle Johnny in his arms, and stammers, 
"The kid's OK. I got him in time. 

1f the Child in you is in control of your 
personality at that moment, you w 

“My God! How will I ever thank you? 
And believe me, that Johnny's going to 
get the spanking of his life! 


The figure above shows that in thi 
transaction the stranger's Adult has spo- 
ken to your Adult, but it is your Child 
that has responded. 

w, in а situation where your Adult 
happens to be in control, your response 
is likely to be 

“My God! How can I ever thank you? 
Here, let's warm him up." 


bove shows that in this 
ction the stranger's Adult has spo- 
ken to your Adult, and your Adult has 
responded. 

But if, in that situation, your Snot were 


umi iiie 


PLAYBOY 


286 


in control, you would most likely say: 
“First time out without an inner tube, 
Tard-ass?” 


\ ex 


‘The figure above shows that the stran- 
gers Adult has spoken to your Adult, 
but that your Snot has responded and 
that Staubach fakes a hand-off and drops 
hack into the pocket just in time to be 

ampled by Butkus 

In conclusion, we can see that inner 
peace is, indeed, attainable, Adopting a 


life position of alert, indifferent haughti- 
ness can bring a person to the brink of 
selfrealization. ‘Treating people in the 
correct manner—as peasants and meni- 
als—will complete the journcy to full 
mental health. It means bringing one’s 
Snot component up to its highest poren- 
tial, tr ind to take note of 
Who cut 
and such unarguable logic 
as “Git yo’ hands offa me, muhhfuhh!" 
Most people to whom you address these 
remarks will become nonplused and 
thereafter will leave you alone. And there- 
in lies the road to inner tranquillity. 
For, as the great Freud himself put it, at 
the very outset of his Interpretation of 
Dreams: 


All rights reserved, which includes 
the right to reproduce this book or 
portions thercof in any form what- 
soever. Copyright 1900. 

(lıalic are mine) 


“I don’t usually cry at the movies, but when she whispers ‘Will I 
be your first virgin?’ and he remembers that he left his 
condoms in his dresser. ...” 


SEXUAL BEHAVIOR 


(continued from page 61) 
generation ago is about 20 percent; our 
own, for today, is about 18 percent. Here, 
too, however, we find a notable increase 
in one part of the sample: A generation 
ago, only eight percent of married and 
divorced women under 26 had had any 
extramarital coitus, while today, in our 
1810-24 group, the figure is 24 percent, 
But this threcfold increase does not sig- 
nify a revolutionary change in basic 
values: It merely brings the rate for 
under-25 females close to that for under- 


ely higher th 
change is not a break with sexual fidelity 
but with the double standard. 


agined, but 
ily and a hus 
lying next 
the dark, Id have 
пу mouth to keep from 


I had my house, my fa 
band T loved. Sometim 
10 my husband i 
to put my fist in 
screaming, 


Quantitatively, then, the change since 
Kinsey's time has been limited; but what 
about qualitatively? Is extramarital co- 
itus casicr, less conflicted, more sensuous, 
more gratifying? Not as far as we can see. 
For one thing, nearly all of it is still se- 
се, which implies conflict, difficulty 
and guilt (only one fifth of our sample 
say their mates have known about their 
ЖИК iB E an ED 
centage than was true of Kinsey's men, 
according to Kinsey's women). For an- 
other, extramarital experience has not 
become more casual and easy, to judge by 
the numbers of partners involved: Kinsey 
published no data on the matter in his 
male study, but he did in his female 
study—and the figures are virtually iden- 
tical with our own. E.g., both then and 
now, two out of five women with extra- 
1 experience had only one partner 
ind another two out of бус had be 
and five partners. Extramarital 
no lighthearted frolic; it is seri- 
business, fraught with emotional 
1 with danger for marriage. 


ous 
meaning a 


Man, 38 (married): 
overwhelming, but I was delighted | 
са of what I was doing. I felt bw 
with life and full of juice instead of 
shriveled and withered. I knew that the 
whole thing was foolish and could come 
to no good, but, strangely enough, I felt 
proud of myself for h done it.” 


‘The sex wasn't 
the 


‘Advocates of marital swinging say that 
nonsecret alternatives such as mate swap- 
ping and group sex avoid emotional i 
volvement and conflict with ma 
But many observers report that swingers 
are frequently plagued by jealousy, emo- 
tional conflict, impotence and frigidity, 
guilt feelings, fear of disease or disgrace 
and, worst of all, fear of the loss of love. 
All this is 100 much for most married 


people: Within our sample of 691 mar- 
ried men and 710 married women 
(whites and blacks combined) only 
about two percent of the men and a little 
Jess than two percent of the women have 
ated in mate swapping with 
their spouses, and many of the males and 
most of the females said they had done so 
only once. (There are по comparable 
a in Kinsey.) The figures are higher 
for under-25 males (five percent) and 
under25 females (about two percent), 
but for most of these people there have 
been only a few episodes. 

onp sex is also quite rare among the 
married. Eightcen percent of the me 
and six percent of the women had partici- 
pated in sex in the presence of others, 
but for many it was premarital and 
three quarters had done so only once. 
The figures for under-25 married people 
were higher (males, 38 percent: females, 
22 percent). but here again, some of th 
was premarital and most of it was one 
time only. Very few people—about two 
percent of the men and fewer than one 
percent of the women—have ever had 
sex with two or more partners at the 


same time with spouse present 
n, 30: “I'm marıicd to the most 
guy, technically, r 


n. He can always get it uj 
cam keep screwing for hou 
try anything at all. But E са 
with him, because I hate hi 
divorce and he won 
me. But with the men I've been having 
h, it's something еве have 
orgasms right and left . . . but only with 
men I have a fecling for.” 


nd he'll 
never come, 
i —because 


е some people in our survey re- 
port ext ital experiences that are 
more exci 1 gratifying than the 

exceptions. In gen- 
amarital sex is less free, less sen- 


ait their cxtramarii 
nd the following 
white sample only. 
ations are used 
coitus than in 


sex to pettini 
figures pertain to o 

* Most positional v. 
less freely in extra 
coitus. The дар is widest among 
the young—the most liberated of our 

e: they are at their most lib- 

marriage, not outside it. 
percent of women who have 
asm all or 
almost all she time in it, while 53 percent 
of women do so in marital coitus: 35 per- 
cent never or almost never have orgasm 
n extramarital coitus. ainst only 
scven percent in marital coitus. 

But the ego boost, the excitement, the 
feeling of recaptured youth, the rediscov- 
ery of passion make extramarital sex in- 
tensely gratifying for many. Others find 
their experiences intensely rewarding but 
flawed by fear and guile. 


ex 


Ib we turn to 
of the pleasure yielded by marital sex 
compared with extramarital sex, we find 
the latter distinctly the les rewarding. 
Two thirds of the married males in our 
total sample rated their marital coitus in 
the past yeu L as "very pleas- 
urable"; fewer th fof the men who 
had extramarital coitus in the past year 
or females, the com- 
parable figures were a little more than 
half for marital coitus, but only a little 
more than third for extramarital coitus. 
Four percent of married men and ten 
percent of married women rate their 
ure or 
Шу unpleasant—but nine percent of 
1 and 27 percent of women who had 
xtramarital coitus rate it unl ly. 
These findings hold true even among 
our younger married people. They talk 
about extramarital sex more openly and 


marital coitus as lacking in pk 
acn 
ш 


are more aware of their own desires and 


of the alternatives than were the young 
marrieds of a generation ago. But for 
шапу emotional and social reasons, the: 


are not engaging freely and easily in 
sucl experiences and, by and large, those 
who do are finding the experiences less 
pleasurable than married people, in 
general, find the ital coitus, Sexual 


liberation has tered the ascetic 
and antihedoni: tradition in our 
society but has not altered our central 


nd married love are 
at their best when 


conviction that sex 
synergi id 
they are conjoined. 


This is the fourth in a series of articles 
reporting the resulis of a comprehensive 
Playboy Foundation-funded survey of 
sex in America, Morton Hunt's full re- 
port will be published ах a book, “Sexual 
Behavior in the 1970s,” by Playboy Pre: 


287 


PLAYBOY 


288 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW (continued from page 81) 


1 think nationalism is a dangerously out- 
moded idea, and we ought to start think- 
ing of ourselves as one people living 
on this lide planet together. Oui is а 
copublishing v h Lui, the best 
of the рілувоу imitations in Europe; 
but Oui will be going its own way, u 
fettered by old boundaries—not only 
geographical but social and sexual as well. 

In its first year of publication, Oui was 
aimed primarily at the male audience we 
were already familiar with and felt would 
respond to the innovative appeal of such 
a magazine. But the innovations have 


ature w 


only just begun and, increasingly, Oui 
will be aimed at women as well—contem- 
porary readers of both sexes who share 
4 take real pleasure in 
the liberation of our traditional roles and 
lifestyles in society. We pr 
umber of the first issue—750,000 copies— 
and sold almost all of them in the first 
two weeks o 
grown to 1,300,000 copies per month in 
the first year, so the future of this new 
magazine seems very bright, indeed, 

PLAYBOY: Oui certainly scems to have a 
ing future, but that's only one 


a joie de vivre 


“King’s bishop takes knight's pawn—off 
with your blouse.” 


aspect of Playboy Enterprises. Do you 
think the entire company is likely to be 
as important in the next 20 years as it’s 
been in the past 20? 
HEFNER: As good as the first 20 years have 
been, the next 20 are bound to be better. 
People are going to haye morc leisure 
time than ever before, so a company de- 
voted to leisure-time activities—especially 
опе with Playboy's strong identificatio 
iat market—seemis се to be in- 
ngly important. And just as dearly, 
the magazine is going to have even more 
influence in the future than it does today, 
Circulation is at an alltime high—t 
greater than any other men’s magazine 
in history—and its impact on our ma 
ners and. morals probably won't be fully 
appreciated for some time to come. 
PLaynoy will continue to play an im- 
portant part in promoting social and 
sexual freedom for the individual, be- 
cause those who suggest that the sexual 
revolution has already been won are 
naive. Our society is more sexually schiz- 
ophrenic than sexually liberated. We're 
going through a painful and difficult 
transitional period in which many people 
have started to come to grips with their 
own sexuality, but we still live in a coun- 
try where most adult sexual activity 
egal, and the voices of suppression are 
still being heard—and heeded. 
PLAYBOY: Are you thi 
Supreme Court decisions on obscenity? 
HEFNER: Of coursc—as well as the ap 
d, in some instances, even 
able reaction of a press that is otherwise 
so sensitive to the suppr 
dom. What can you sa 


King of the recent 


vor- 


jon of our free- 
bout a society 
1 descrip- 
h, yet at- 
mages and 
tions when what is involved are 
acts of pleasure and love? I find it incredi- 
ble, in 1973, that the Supreme Court of 
the United States can justify surrendering 
to what it calls “local commu the 
right to decide what is pornographic and 
therefore illegal. Already one state su- 
Gcorgia—has. decided 
Carnal Knowledge, writ- 
ten by Jules Feiffer and directed by Mike 
Nichols, artistically redeeming 
enough to escape being banned as ob- 


violence and dea 


preme cour 
that the movi 


isn't 


structionists” of the Constitution, has 
ruled that the First Amendment's а 
lute protection of free speech and press 
doesn’t really mean what it says, that 
certain kinds of speech and writing aren't 
necessarily free at all—speech and writ- 
ing that has to do with sex. The Court 
has decreed that the ruling elite of every 


s0- 


local community has the power to deter- 
mine what everyone else in town may 
read or sce. 

PLAYBOY: There were rumblings, soon 
after the decisions, about "cracking 
" on rLAYnoy and the other men's 


deed, butso far they 
плі come to much—primarily, I think, 
because the Supreme Court decisions 
weren't aimed at rraYmoy. They were 
aimed at hard-core, which has nothing to 
do with what we publish and never will. 
Bur there's still harm in trying to sup- 
press it. If there is an adult audience for 
this kind of material—and I make the 
distinction between adults and children— 
then how dare we say, in a supposedly 
free society, that adults can't go to a 
theater and see whatever they want to 
sce, or to a bookstore or magazine stand 


and buy whatever they want to read? 
"The primary ones hurt when you censor. 
aren't the publishers or the cditors but 
the people whose rights to that material 
are suppressed. 

I find it very disturbing that some in- 
telligent and learned people don't under- 
stand that. I read an editorial in The 
Wall Street Journal about the decisions, 
suggesting that maybe the Gourt was 
right and talking about “the rights of the 
majority in a democracy.” Well, totali 
tarianism by the majority is not what 
America is all about. The greatness of 
America isn't that it grants majority rule 
^s that it protects the freedom of the in- 
dividual, the freedom of those who might 
want to read or see something that isn't 
popular with the community. Too many 
magazines and newspapers take the atti- 
tude that this small limitation on 
someone else's liberties is a price worth 
paying to get rid of the porno theater 
down the street, which they don't patron- 
ize anyway. Well theyre being very 
shortsighted, and they remind me, quite 
frankly, of the good citizens of Germany 
who felt it didn't have anything tw do 
with them if the Jews had their rights 
taken away. 

The issue here is not obscenity; the 
issue is censorship. And what kind of bi- 
zarre notion is it that the depiction of sex 
is cither too sacred or too profane to be 
protected by the First Amendment? Well, 
I send this message to the boys at Time 
and Newsweek and the country's newspa- 
pers, who should have the intellectual ca- 
pacity to recognize what this is all about, 
but who, for whatever reasons, look the 
other way and play into the hands of the 
enemy. Because there is an enemy out 
there. This country— indeed, the whole 
world—consists of two opposing forces: 
us, and those who would force their own 
values and attitudes on us. Totalitarian- 
ism has been the major evil in this world 
since the beginning of civilization, 
whether it came into power in the name 
of religion or a supposedly better nonsec- 


tarian society. The whole concept of this 
country was based on opposition to that 
kind of totalitarianism. 

PLAYBOY: What actual effects do you think 
the Supreme Court decisions will have on 
sexual explicitness in the media? 

HEFNER: That's hard to predict, But it’s 
going to be difficult in the Seventies to 
find 12 people on a jury who will unani- 
mously agree on what constitutes pornog- 
raphy; and that, whatever it is, it should 
be suppressed by law. In Binghamton, 


to agree; that type of thing 
be happening a lot. The market for por- 
nography isn’t going to disappear. We're 
going to have some variation on what we 
had with alcohol during Prohibition, and 
all we're going to get from that is cven 
more corruption in local politics. It's too 
carly to say for sure how this is going to 
work out, but whatever happens, my 
reaction as а citizen is one of outrage. 
PLAYBOY: Whats your reaction as an 
editor-publisher? How will rtAvnov be 
affected? 

HEFNER: Except for those communities 
where some prosecutor is foolish enough 
to think that he can make a name for 
himself by going after us, they shouldn't 
lect PLAYBOY at all. And let me tell you 
that anybody who does try to ban 
м лувоу under these decisions is going to 
look nothing but foolish, because he's 
going to lose. You don't win these cases 
against PLAYBOY. Nobody ever has. Our 
reputation is too solidly cstablished. 1 
can say without any sense of glee, as a 
ter of fact, that rLAvnov is actually 
going to benefit commercially from these 
decisions, because if the more sexually ex- 
plicit publications are suppressed, then 
the sexually oriented portion of ргдүноү 
is obyiously going to have even greater 
appeal. Suddenly, we may find ourselves 
right back in the sexual avantgarde, and 
I don't welcome that, because I don't 
welcome censorship. But I've been fight- 
ing that kind of sexual oppression for 20. 
years, and I'm not going to back out of 
the fight now. 

PLAYBOY: What, specifically, do you p 
to do? 

HEFNER: The main thrust of our reaction 
will be in the courts. I don't welcome 
such problems, but if they arise, we'll 
use whatever legal resources arc neces- 
sary, not only when cases directly in- 
volve rtavnoy but by funding other 
anti-censorship activities through the 
Playboy Foundation. 

PLAYBOY: Though you've been actively in- 
volved for many ycars, as you point out, 
in fighting censorship aud supporting 
causes related to sexual freedom, it's 
been widely reported that. your interest 
in broader political issues dates from the 
Democratic Convention in Chicago in 
1968, when a cop gave you a whack on 
the rump with his night stick. 

HEFNER: Some people might like to think 


going to 


ап 


BOLD NEW 
COLOGNE 

FOR THE 
SENSUOUS LION 


AVAILABLE 
AT FINE STORES 
IN THE US, ANO CANAOA 


PLAYBOY 


took a swat on the ass to make mc so- 
ly conscious, but the fact is that I've 
had a deep concern over social issues 
most of my life. The magazine has re- 
flected that clearly enough over the years. 
PLAYBOY: Have you ever considered act- 
ing on your political beliels by run 
for office? 

: I've been asked that before, but 
ly don’t h personal political 
ions. І don't think Id be emo- 
pol 
nd. quite frankly, I think 1 can 
‘obably do more en 
through the m: e's editorial policies 
and the Foundation’s philanthropy 
PLAYBOY: In whe Philosophy, you wrote 
thar America was undergoing a "moral 
rebirth.” Would you sul say ıl 
HEFNER: | wrote that during the Kennedy 
years, when optimism seemed. appropr 
ate. There have been a lot of times since 
then when it was difficult to be optimis- 
tic, but in the past year my mood 1 
been a good deal more hopeful. 1 
strongly that the whole Watergate aff 
for s one of the best things. 
thats happened to Ame recent. 
years. H shows that even at the highest 
level of power. it's impossible to keep 
such total corruption under wraps. That's 
а dramatic demonstration. of the great 
strength of our system. 

We've always had petty corruption at 
the state and city levels. and occasional- 
ly—thanks ло ‘Teapot Dome and Spiro 
Aen the Federal level as well. All 
these scandals have h th people 
taking money that didn't belong to 
them. But Watergate was corruption of 
far more ominous k 
precedented scale. 1t was a conspiracy to 
subvert ic process. These 
men felt they were justified in what they 
were doing, regardless of the law, because 
they thought they knew what was best 
at th 


feel 


d ro do w 


ad and on 


n un- 


the democr: 


for the country and tl 
was just. 

I's 
over 


cause 


he same attitude that was shown 
ad over again by Nixon's reactions 
1 the v ‘ongressional and 
sidential committees that spent. mil- 
of doll. g such problems 
as obscenity, drugs and civil disorder. In 
ch case, Nixon heard the results, then 
mptly rejected them because they 

"t fit prejudices and his own 
st. But I don't see why 


10wal as 


lion 


owi 


. Water- 
ation of the 


gate was simply the culm 
man’s entire record in public office. 
PLAYBOY: Who would excite you as a Presi- 
dential candidate in 19767 

HEFNER: How арон me? 


PLAYBOY: You said you weren't interested. 
HEFNER: Well, if there were an honest 
draft and 1 felt the nation really needed 
me. . . . Uh, I'm kidding. 


290 PLAYBOY: Oh. 


t obvious, you'd better 
delete it from the interview. 
PLAYBOY: We'll take care of it. But other 
than you, can you think of any likely 
prospects? 
HEFNER: There isn’t amy one particular 
"didate who excites me at the moment. 
But the solutions to our problems as a so- 
ıren't going to come [rom finding 
some hero to lead us to better times. The 
whole nature of our political system, and 
its separation of power, is predicated on 
the notion that no one individual should 
have too much power. Yet that's just 
what was happening ro the Presidency 
until we caught the emperor without any 
clothes on. 
PLAYBOY: Even if steps are taken to curb. 
President ‚ whats to prevent 
the same thing from happening again 
when the lessons of this experience are 
forgotten? 
HEFNER: Nothing. That's why a [ree press 
is so fundamental to a democracy. Ws 
the free press of this nation—the news 
papers, magazines, radio and television— 
that refused to let go of the Watergate 
scandal. that refused to be intimidated 
by the Nixon Administration’s systematic 
tempts at repression, that refused to 
ссері as ıs the halfdozen men 
originally on trial for the break-in, that 
eventually led to the exposure of the 
involvement of the highest men in our 
vernment and established the armos 
phere that made possible the Congression- 
nd Justice Department investigat 
that may finally bring the true vill 
justice. The only sak 
repetition of this sort of il 
and diligent press that will sou 
appropriate warning if such de 
uery ever rears its ugly head again. 
PLAYBOY: Do you think PLavaoy has made 
any contributions to that end? 
HEFNER: 1 certainly do. In a series of 
icles, interviews and editorials. we at 
tempted to alert the people to the danger 
ous and truly toi men who had 
come into power with the Nixon Admin- 
istration. The last Presidential elec 
was the first in which 1 became deeply 
involved personally. because I could see 
the ominous directions in which our coun 
iry was headed under the leadership of 


ion 


these men. ely. the people 
didn't listen—not enough of them, ar 
way. We lost the battle; but, with Water- 


gate, we've won the w 


That's why it's so important for all of 
us to speak out against every form of 
tyranny—as we've tried to do. personally 


and edi 
positi 


orally, over the years, from op- 
a to the war i m to legal 
support for victims of reaction 
governing the private sexual behavior of 
consenting adults. That's the only way 
in which a free and democratic society 
сап survive 
PLAYBOY: Yo 
will be even mor 


said earlier that PLaynoy 
n the ne 


20 years than it has been in the past 20. 
But what about your own plans? Are you. 
going to be running the magazine and 
the company until the 40th anniversary? 
HEFNER: Somewhat longer than that, | 
hope. Voluntary retirem difficult 
for me to imagine. PLAYBOY magazine is 
still the heart of all I do, and I don’t 
want to let go of more than 1 have to. 1 
mean, I love it almost like a person. If E 
didn't care so much, it would be easy to 
step back and ОК, you've done ї 
Great. Now go do something else." But 1 
t Working as hard as I do. 1 feel oc- 
the demands it 
n me. but that’s about the only 
thing that ever brings me down. At the 
end of a difficult day, 1 can still relax 
with my friends, doing what 1 want 10 do 
and feeling like a million dollars. 
PLAYEOY: Or even 900.000.000. 

HEFNER: Nobody feels that good. 

PLAYBOY: In view of the fact that Playboy. 
Enterprises n extension 
pression of your own vision. do you think 
it will continue to be as successful after 
you're no longer running it? 

HEFNER: After I'm no longer running it? 
Thats a delicate way of puting it. You 
mean afier I'm ^ What con I s 
Obviously, there's a long-term: prepar: 
tion going on to make the comp: ade- 
pendent of the energy and expertise of 
any one person. In any case, you have to 
recognize that my vision is shared with a 
Jot of talented people who work for me, 
as well as with millions of people 
society, or else we wouldn't be so success- 
ful. There's n: 
PLAYBOY is going to pass from the scene 
when 1 do--unless, of course, 1 
take it with me. 

PLAYBOY: Time once called your concern 
about your place in history as monumen- 
tal as Lyndon Johnson's: How do you 
think you'll be remembered? 

HEFNER: | don't think I'm the best person 
10 answer that. You should ask somebody 
more objective—like my mother, 
PLAYBOY: Come оп 

HEFNER: Well, I think I've beer 
important influence on cont 
sexual attitudes. Beyond th: 
important. 

PLAYBOY; That sounds overly modest 
True. Actually, 1 think ГИ ra 


l frustration abou 


such 


reason lo assume that 


decide to 


lairly 
mporary 
not very 


ik 


PLAYBOY: Try once mor 
HEFNER: Well, if we hadn't had the Wi 
brothers. there would si 
I there hadn't be an 
would still be electric lights. And if there 
hadn't been a Hefner, we'd still have se 
But maybe we wouldn't be enjoyi 

much. So the world would be a liide 
poorer. Come to think of it, so would. 
some of my relatives. Let's go play a little 
bad 


mmon, 


ч А, ЕКЕ ON LOCATION IN LITTLE ITALY, WITH OUR 
DARLING AND HER AGENT, SOLLY 


BRASS, 
FILMING “GODFATHER MEETS THE GODMOTHER” 

ANOTHER SPIN -OFF FROM "THE GODFATHER;” 
BIGGEST AND BEST OF THE FILMS MIN 

BROTH 
~AND NOW WE KNOW WHERE THE REAL POWER. 

OF THE MAFIA LIES. IT LIES AT THE BOX OFFICE! 
WHAT WITH $80,000,000 WORTH OF "'GOD- 
FATHER” TICKETS SOLD TO DATE --MAH-RONE, 
THAT'S POWER! 


SOLLY? 
CAN'T 
STAND THE 
PAIN? 


(OULD 
vou BELIEVE 
SHE STARTED 
WITH SMALL 


A STORY! -THE 
BROTHERHOOD 
CHALLENGED By 
А WOMEN'S LIB 
SISTERHOOD! 


LUNCH, AND THIS 
NEIGHBORHOOD IS 
LOUSY WITH AUTHENTIC 
ITALIAN RESTAURANTS, 
50 1ЕТ RUN AND 
GRAB US SOME 
PASTA! 


HED = 


291 


GLORYOSKY? E 
SOLLY +++ HERE 1 SIT 
IÑ A PUBLIC RESTAURANT 
WITHOUT A STITCH ON 
UNOER MY COAT. ARE YOU 
SURE NO ONE CAN 


== LOOK, SOLLY --- THEY. ARE YOU KIDDING? SUIS! ITS 
. 7 MUST BE SHOOTING THE NEXT SCENE SHOOTING A SCENE NOT THE MAFIA, 
W| HERE, BECAUSE THE ONLY CUSTOMER WITHOUT A CAMER! SWEETIE- 
у % LEFT 15 THAT BLUE-FACED MAN IN 
HÈ THE CORNER BEING GEN SAU 4 тт NOT 


ANYTHING! 


WAS 
empty? 


ASA 4 NOT THE Î CAN'T WE 
GOOD GOVERNOR, DUMMY, YOU KNOW THIS JUST PUT 
CITIZEN, IT THE GOVERNOR I5 IN BROAD? A HORSE'S 
^ MY OTHER SUIT? HEAD IN HER 
BED?- oR HIT A BROAD? 
MAYBEA 1 HEVER SAW 
CHICKEN 
LEGON HER 
KITCHEN 
TABLE? 


WE'LL DRAW 


MAYOR ANO 
THE GOVER- 


WE'LL WORRY ABOUT WHO. 
TAKES CAKE OF THE BODY LATER. 
BUT BEFORE WE HIT HER AND 
GO ТО THE MATTRESSES TO 
HIDE OUT, WE GOTTA RIP 
OUT HER LABELS AND 
IDENTIFICATION. 


FELLOWS ~~ 
PD LIKE TO VOLUNTEER 
TO MAKE THE SUPREME 
SACRIFICE. PLL TAKE CARE 
OF THE BODY! --- NO, 
PLEASE DON'T THANK 7 
М 


ISAW THE 
BODY FIRST? IGET 
DIBS ON IT? BESIDES, 
1 AIN'T HAD A GOOD 
CONTRACT IN 
MONTHS? 


VERY BUSY 
READING MY 
NEWSPAPER 
AND PLAYING 

HOUSEV 


A Т TAKE CARE 
OF THE BODY! ҮМ A 
D> CONSIGLIORI! ш 


IM АСАРО 
MAFIOSO? 


LEAPIN' 
LIZARDS, SOLLY ~~ 
DON'T YOU KNOW IT'S 
EVERY CITIZEN'S DUTY ТО 
SPEAK OUT f --- BUT NO! 
EVERYONE'S AFRAID! WELL, 
PM NOT? PLL TELL You 
WHO THE KILLERS ARE, 
OFFICER- 


HE KILLED 
HIM, AND HE KILLED. 
HIM BACK? THEN THEY 
KILLEO THE OTHE! 
TWO, BUT NOT BEFURI: 

АШ Я 


PLAYBOY 
READER SERVICE 


Write to Playboy Reader Service for 
answers to your shopping questions. 
We will provide you with the name 
of a retail store in or near your city 
where you can buy any of the sp 

ERE items advertised or cdito- 
rially featured in PLAYBOY. For 
example, where-to-buy information is 
available for the merchandise of the 
advertisers in this issue listed below. 


Bell & Howell Card. 
BSR Phone Butler - . 


featured merchandise. 


We will be happy to answer any of 
your other questions on fashion, 


travel, food and drink, sterco, ctc. 
If your question involves items you 
saw in PLAYBOY, please specify page 
numbcr and issue of the magazine 
as well as a brief description of the 
items when you write. En 


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