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ENTERTAINMENT FOR MEN

AUGUST 1974 * $1.25

АШАУ |. HIS FILM STARS

AY Kk ' PLAYBOY'S PRO

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PLAYBOY

“A clerk says, ‘Hi, Mr. Weaver, and then
asks me for identification . .
“You suddenly remember you need cash
for the weekend and the bank just closed .
“There has to be a better way.T guess that's
why 7.000 more people get a Bank Americard every
lay."

A better way. That's what millions of
Americans who carry BankAmericard have
discovered.

The BankAmericard doesn't just do
what money can do. It does a lot more.

It lets you buy when and where you
choose without carrying cash. A BankAmer-
icard is welcomed at a million and a half
friendly places around the world. Not just at
hotels and restaurants, but at all kinds of
local shops.

A BankAmericardissafer than money.
Lose money, it's gone. Lose BankAmericard,
there's protection. When you need identifi-
cation, it tells them who you are. And when
you want to organize your expenditures,
BankAmericard’s detailed monthly state-
ment helps you do that, too.

Of course, when you need cash, most
BankAmericards are welcome at 42,000 bank
locations all over the world.

"That's why the Weavers and millions
of other Americans carry

Don't you think i it's time you found
out what it can do for you? BankAmericard.
It's more than money.

PLAYBILL ^^v» res эхмехт сап be hard enough on а man. Fora woman, well,
listen to this: In Skokie, Illinois, several policemen apprehended a 17-year-
old girl on a drug charge, hustled her olf to jail and forced her to strip naked. In Memph
pair of cops extorted sex from two girls after threatening them with arrest. “The mistreatment
of women by police,” says writer James McKinley, “is an issue that’s been largely overlooked—
even by the women's and prison-reform moyemedts.” Read McKinley's Down and Out and
Female (illustrated by Christian Piper) and learn what goes on when women run up against
the law. cops have any corner on toughness, as you'll see in The Hard Hearts, which
profiles five of the meanest dudes in the land. On the other hand, theres Coward's Almanac,
a collection of fears that author Marvin Kitman agreed—without too much arm twisting on our
part—to excerpt for us from his book of the same name. The Coward's Almanac will be pub-
all. When asked what he'll be doing in the meantime, Kitman replied,
typically, “I'm going into hiding until this all blows over.”
Ot course, the man who first gave going into hiding a good name is Henry David Thoreau.
As Jim Hougan tells it in Thoreau Never Mentioned the Damn Bugs! (illustrated by John
Hunt), he and Henry David have a lot in common. Such as the feeling that, as the master wrote
in Walden, “Most of the luxuries, and many of the so-called comforts, of lile are not only di
pensable but positive hindrances to the elevation of mankind.” In that spirit, Hougan and
some friends who thought likewise lit out to find a Walden of their own, the upshot of which is
the writer’s hilarious diary of the experience. Read it with a bottle of Six-F'welve at your side.
“They were all [ull-bore rhythm-and-blues musicians with a monster sound, and they had
come to L.A. with the hope that they would make the big time.” So writes PLAYBOY Stall Writer
Laurence Gonzales in Band, the incomparable history of a backwash Texas rock group that
flashed around America like some Day-Glo pinball heading for the continental sink. Gonzales,
who also claims he contributed the page numbers to this issue, is currently trying to adapt his
story for the screen. “Michael J. Polla to be in there somewhere," he says. No doubt, but
even the talented Pollard couldn't carry Band alone; he'd need "atmospherc"—extras—on the
set. Our man in Hollywood, William Murray (whose interview with Bob Hope we published
last December), talked with some atmosphere people for his article, catchily titled The Atmos-
phere People. What emerges from his conversations is a fascinating, behind-the-scenes look at
"Tinseltown's most overlooked craftsmen. The illustration is by Sharleen Pederson.
The fiction of Sean O'Faolain appears herein for the second time this year in Venus or the
Virgin?, the story of an American journalist in Italy who encounters some of the most colorful
cters the Mediterranean—or anyplace else—has ever produced. Stan

iness of an altogether different sort: climbing. And Chris Dickey—in all likelihood, the only
son of a Playboy Interview subject (James Dickey) ever to write for this magazine—checks in
with IL Came to Pass, the eerie portrait of а most mysterious love triangle.

"The ultimate mystery—how man ever got on this planet—is explored in depth by Erich
von Däniken in this month's provocative Playboy Interview. Von Däniken, the Swiss author of
Chariots of the Gods?, believes that in prehistoric times Earth was visited by intelligent beings
from outer space. New York-based free-lancer Timothy Ferris does the hard questioning.

In Ffurther Alphabetical Sex, cartoonist Michael Flolkes returns to a theme he first ex-
plored for us four years ago. Anson Mount's football predictions—this month in Playboy's Pro
Football Previcw—go back with us much {further than that, 17 years, to be exact. Instant
Warhol, however, is a PLAYBOY first—Andy's debut as a PLAYBOY Jensman, The ‚ who's now
writing a book of personal philosophy to be titled THE, tells us his dachshund, Archie Bunker,
“got very excited by the photos and had to be
are Dennis Scott's pictorial on rock songstress CJ
of connubial bliss, Here Comes the Bride, designed by Associate Art Director Tom Staebler
with a costuming assist rom Chief Stylist Janice Moses. There are even some refreshing tequila
recipes awaiting on the inside. Now, who said there ain't no cure for the summertime blues?

O'FAOLAIN

DICKEY

GONZALES

vol. 21, no. 8—august, 1974

PLAYBOY.

CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE

PLAYBILL -........ 3
DEAR PLAYBOY Rr n

PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 7

BOOKS et 18

THEATER 22

RECORDINGS 22

MOVIES. 24

TELEVISION 28

MUSEUMS... 30

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 35

THE PLAYBOY FORUM == 41

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: ERICH VON DANIKEN—cendid conversation. E

Ceuta Lennear. VENUS OR THE VIRGIN?—fiction SEAN O'FAOIAIN 66
BROWN SUG AR—pictoriol. . 70

THE ATMOSPHERE PEOPLE—crticle УЛШАМ MURRAY 75

THE JOY OF SOX—ottire ROBERT L GREEN 76

BAND —article. LAURENCE GONZALES 80

INSTANT WARHOL —; 83

CAT'S MEOW— modern living 87

murem COWARD'S ALMANAC—humor MARVIN KITMAN 88
IT CAME TO PASS— fiction. CHRIS DICKEY 91

NOT JUST ANOTHER PRETTY BODY—ployboy’s ploymote of the month 92

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES— humor. 102

DOWN AND OUT AND FEMALE—orticle JAMES McKINLEY 104

FFURTHER ALPHABETICAL SEX—humor MICHAEL FFOIKES 107

DOWN THE HATCH, AMIGO!—drink. THOMAS MARIO 113

THE HARD HEARTS— article z 114

Wedding Night
THE CONQUEST OF THE WASHINGTON MONUMENT —fiction........STAN DRYER 118

HERE COMES THE BRIDE— pictorial. . 121

THE TALE OF THE TWO GANDERS—ribold clastic 131

PLAYBOY'S PRO FOOTBALL PREVIEW—sports ANSON MOUNT 132
THOREAU NEVER MENTIONED THE DAMN BUGS!—humor... JIM HOUGAN 135
ON THE SCENE—personalities 152

Super Socks Р. 76 PLAYBOY POTPOURRI. 160

GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYBOY BUILDING. BIS NORTH ыкмам AVE. CHICAG
SUBMITTED IF THEY ARE TO BE РЕТОЛНЕО AND NO RESPONSIBILITY CAN DE ASSI

MATERIALS, ALL RIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT TO PLAYBOY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCON-
DITIONALLY ASSIGNED FOR PUBLICATION AND COPYRIGHT PURPOSES AND AS SUBJECT TO PLAYBOY'S UNRESTRICTED RIGHT TO EDIT AND TO COMMENT EDITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT

ет. SY PLAYBOY ALL FIGHTS FESEPVED PLAYBOY AND RAEBIT MEAD SYMBOL ARE MARKS OF PLAYBOY. REGISTERED U. S PATENT OFFICE, KARCA REGISTRADA. MARQUE DEPOSEE. NOTHING MAY
BE REPRINTED IN WHOLE OF IN PART WITHOUT WRITTEN PERMISSION FRON THE PUBLISHER. ANY SIMILARITY BETWEEN THE PEOPLE AND PLACES IN THE FICTION ARO SEMIFICTION IM THIS
MAGAZINE ANO ANY MEAL PEOPLE AND PLACES IS PURELY COINCIDENTAL CREDITS: COVER: MODEL LINNOA KIMBALL. DESIGNED OY TOM STAEFLER, ILLUSTRATED BY DOUG
TAYLOR, PHOTOGRAPHY BY BILL AASENAULT. OTHER PHOTOGRAPHY BY: BILL ARSENAULT, P. 3; MICHAEL SILLY, P. 3: CHARLES М. BUSH. р. 3 (2). ALAN CLIFTON. P. 3: BILL FRANTZ. P. 3 (3).
LARRY DALE GORDON, P. өз. з (2). өз (2). ве (2). 92 (2). 100 (2) CURT GUNTHER. P. 12, CAROLYN JOHNSON, P. 3: MINDAS. P. ви (3). 87 (2). C. CICK NORTON, Р 3; J. BARRY O'ROURKE.
P 2G). вз. SUZANNE SEED, P. з. VERNON L SMITH. P. 3 (2). P. 16, CONSTRUCTION BY RICHARO HERR. P. 22, CONSTRUCTION BY WILLIAM р. EATON. JR. P. 70. COURTESY OF SHELTER RECORDS

PLAYBOY AUGUST, 1974 VOL 21. ND в PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, IH NATIONAL AND REGIONAL EDITIONS, PLAYBOY BLDG . $19 № MICHIGAN AVE.. CENGO, ILL. 60611. SECOND.CLASS POSTAGE
PA AT ENCO. ILL. AND AY ADOL HARING OFFICES. SUESCPIPTIONS: Im THE U S, HO FOR OME YEAR POSTMASTER, SEND FORM 3578 TO PLAYBOY, P.O NOx 2420. BOULDER, COLO 8002

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PLAYBOY

HUGH M. HEFNER
editor and publisher
ARTHUR KRETCHMER editorial director
ARTHUR PAUL art director
SHELDON WAX managing editor
MARK KAUFFMAN photography editor
MURRAY FISHER assistant managing editor.

EDITORIAL
ARTICLES: DAVID потока editor « FICTIO
ROBIE MACAULEY editor, STANLEY PALEY asso
ale edilor, SUZANNE МС NEAR, WALTER SUBLETTE
assistant editors = SERVICE FEATURES: TOM
OWEN modern living editor, ROGER WIDENER
assistant editor; ROBERT L. GREEN fashion di-
sector, олур PLATT fashion editor; THOMAS
Mawo food & drink editor « CARTOON:
MICHELLE URRY edilor « COPY: ARLENE HOURAS
editor, STAN AMBER assistant editor • STAFF:
б. BARRY GOLSON, GEOFFREY NORMAN, RODERT
‘J. SHEA, DAVID STEVENS senior editors;
LAURENCE GONZALES, REG TOTTERTON, DAVID
STANDISH, CRAIG VETTER staf] Writers; DOUGLAS
BAUER, DOUGLAS C. RENSON, WILLIAM J. HELMER,
GRETCHEN MC NEESE, CARL SNYDER associate
editors; JOHN BLUMENTHAL, J. F. O'CONNOR,
JAMES R. PETERSEN, ARNIE WOLFE assistant
editors; SUSAN HEISLER, MARIA NEKAM,
BARBARA NELLIS, KAREN PADDERUD, LAURIE
SADLER, BERNICE Т. ZIMMERMAN research
editors; J. PAUL GETTY (business & finance),
NAT HENTOFF, RICHARD RHODES, RAY RUSSELL,
JEAN SHEPHERD, JOHN SKOW, BRUCE WILLIAMSON
(movies), том UNGERER contributing editors
ADMINISTRATIVE SERVICES: PATRICIA PAP-
ANGELIS administrative editor; ROSE JENNINGS
rights & permissions; MILDRED ZIMMERMAN
administrative assistant

AG
TOM sTAEDLIR, KERG rore associate directors;
BOB POST, KOY MOODY, LEN WILLIS, CHET SUSKI,
GORDON MORTENSEN, JOSEPH PACZEK, ALFRED
Zricrw assistant directors; JUME ELERS,
VICTOR HUNBARD, GLENN STEWARD а assistan
ICHAEL SISON executive assistant; EVE
KMANN administrative assistant

PHOTOGRAPHY

MARILYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor
GARY COLE, MOLLUS WAYNE associate ed
fors; wma sowrTS technical editor; BILL
AISENAULT, DON AZUMA, DAVID CHAN, RICHARD
FECLEY, DWIGHT HOOKER, POMPEO POSAR staf]
photographers; Бил. and MEL FIGGE, BRIAN
D. HENNESSEY, ALEXAS URBA contributing
photographers; вил. FRANTZ associate photog-
rapher; үсү JOUNSON assistant editor.
KRIEGL photo lab supervisor; JANICE BERKO-
упа Moses chief stylist; ROBERT CHELIUS
administrative editor

PRODUCTIO!
JOHN MASTRO director; ALLEN VARGO man-

ANORE WAGNER, RITA JOHNSON,
MARIA MANDIS, RICHARD QUARTAROLI assistants

READER SERVICE
CAROLE. CRAIG director

CIRCULATION
THOMAS C. WILLIAMS customer services; BEN
GOLDBERG director of newsstand sales; ALVIN
MOLD subscription manager

ADVERTISING
нор w. Leprker advertising director

PLAYROY ENTERPRISES, INC.
WOBERT s. PREUSS business manager and
associate publisher; RICHARD s. ROSENZWEIG
executive assistant to the publisher;
RICHARD м. KOFF assistant publisher

Living the life of Lee. —
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DEAR PLAYBOY

[v p!

WATERCATE WATCH

t I of Carl Bernstein and Bob
Woodward's All the President's Men
(PLAYBOY, May) is one of the greatest

pieces you have ever published. Its timeli
y
i g- The world can

e pom ism.

Raymond F. Lenzi
Annapolis, Maryland

га like to express my deepest grati-
tude to you for publishing All the Presi-
dent's Men. While it reads like a thrilling
novel, the art
the importance of journalism in а de-
mocracy, especially when that democracy
has been subjected to paranoiac, zealous
bureaucrats who hide behind veils of
secrecy.

D:
A

id A. Reichel
ora, Colorado

The Bernstein-Woodward report те!
forces my judgment that. Washington
ruled by а set of pompous, c
egocentric asses of both polii
ophies and that there is nothing done
for us by them that we cannot do better
ourselves. Nor, in my opinion, is The
ologs free
of stain: по rational, balanced person
can condone the almost childish, sweaty
maneuvering of Woodward and Bernstein
while defending what the docurinaire
iberal press has done with regard to
Ellsberg’ theft of the Pentagon papers.

Bill MacD
Tucson,

Washington Post or

Ar one point, 1 had nothing but the
greatest. Чоп for Bernstein and
Woodward. Ive changed. In the
clc, they admit they compromised a cc
I'm a news dire
on. and 1 don't. know if that
action is illegal, but it is at least а form of
moral blackmail. They actually went to
the n and blew his confiden-
tiality. puts them on at level
with Nixon's crooks who justified their
actions by saying they believed it was e-

t their man win. When an
ive reporter receives informa-
ı confidential source, the only
assurance that source has of anonymity is
the reporter's word. That word must
never be broken—under any circum

nce or for any reason. Bernstein and
Woodward show themselves to be no
better than "all the President's men" by
doing so.

Mike Majors
Glasgow, Kentucky

I did not find any facts in All the
President's Men. just more gossip. 1
bought the m to see how Bernstein
and Woodward exposed America's worst
‘The worst scandal, in my opin

ion, is that the American people believe
Woodward and Bernstein's charges with-
out being shown the facis.

Т. Cramer
Neenah, Wisconsin

I'm a college journalism student who
can appreciate what Woodward and
Bernstein went through to break thc
Watergate story. They took on pracu
cally the whole Government and bea
at its own treachery. The ingenuity and
intelligence they used to uncover the
sordid deeds surrounding Watergate
were very admirable. These guys arc
damn good reporters.

ies Robinson
asper, Wyoming

After reading All the President's Men,
most people will have trouble making a
quick or easy decision on whom to vote
lor in the next Presidential election.
Now that we know that all levels of our
Government have some corruption with-
in them, it will become harder to deter-
mine which man is the one for the job.
Only through freedom of the press, and
reporters who search for the truth, will
we be able to clean up our Government
David Heck
University Park, Pei

isylvania

I cannot for the life of me understand
why vou took an excerpt from Playboy's
History of Organized Crime, inserted it
elsewhere in the magazine and retitled it
All the President's Men.

‘Tom Groot
Don Mills, Ontario

WITCH BITCHES

Mesas Urba's photography in your pic-
torial essay on the occult, The Devil and
the Flesh (PLavwoy, Мау), is beautiful.
The text reflects painstaking research,

PLAYBOY, AUGUST,
YEARS, уа FOR TWO YEN
AVENUE, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS sosi

974, VOLUME 21, NUMBER ©. PUSLISHED MONTHLY BY FLAVEOY. PLAYBOY BUILDING
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PLAYBOY

especially since it so dearly
guishes the differences among witchcraft,
atanism, voodoo and other occult be-
liefs. Nevertheless, as an active member
of the Old Religion of witchcraft, 1 object
to your sensationalistic and inaccurate
approach to our rituals. Witches aren't
prudes, but neither are we orgiasts.
Renda Кап
Dallas, Te:

The Devil and the Flesh is bullshit! I
am a witch and I can tell you that witch-
es do not, as your writer claims, fly on
sticks, nor are they “carried by demons
in the shape of goats." Witches do not
“turn themselves into werewolves or owls
to avoid capture by mortals.” Witches
are people. Sex is not “a vital aspect of
the Sabbath" for amy witch. The Sab-
bath is a sacred. celebration of the gods
of creation and the most vital aspect of
the Sabbath is worship. not an orgy.
Witches do nor "renew their vows of
obedience by kissing the Devil's red ass"
or anyone else's ass. Nor do we confess
“mischievous deeds" 10 the Devil. Nor do
witches pervert themselves by copulating
with animals

(Name withheld by request)

Draper, Utah

Congratula
Flesh has hy

ions. The Devil and the
Iped. witchcraft take another
d in time. Once in,
cluded in the same group
sts. which we are not The
witches of Wicca believe in a beauti-
ful and . It worships a god.
and goddess who represent fertility, life
and nature. Our Sabbaths are dedicated
to these gods, not to the Devil. The ma
jority of covens today work for healing,
help in money matters and a better un-
derstanding of life and nature in general.

a
Liverpool, New York

The capti
torial cont;

ons accompanying your pic
» many error. Witches
never make h the Devil. We
ht make pacts with elementals. but
not with Witches do not believe
that the Devil app rth in the
guise of a horned and bearded gon
‘There is a male god in witeheraft who is
nd is the god of forests and
When Christi
©

male god of witcha
ded the horned god а
beast and gave its features to Satan, who
up to tha 1 been known as noth-
ing more than a dark angel. But witches
are not sts. In addition. there are
no warlocks in witchcralt, only in base
sorcery.

pacts wil

demonic

(Name withheld by request)
Columbus, Ohio
“Double, double, toil and trouble?"

ANTELOPE FANCIER

The Antelope Cage. by Bruce
Friedman (pLAvBov, Мау), is the best
piece of short fiction I have read in
many years. I want to thank you and the
author for this very meaningful and sen-
sitive story.

Tom Armor
Washington, D.C.

BLOWUP

While traveling on U.S. Highway 150
north of Orion, Illinois, I saw this repro-
duction of your September 1967 Playmate
иней on a two-

Tha

n so

scems a farmer liked Angela Do
much that he decided to treat passers-by
with an 18-footwide oil painting of her.
I thought you might like to see
Steve McDonald

Macomb, Illinois

Thanks, Steve. Below, the gatefold
of Playmate-actress Victoria Vetri (she

was Angela Dorian then) that inspired
the masterpiece.

READERS’ PITCH
Beyond becoming the all-time home-
run king. Henry Aaron has revealed him-
self in your May interview as a credit to
baseball. His courage in standing up to
his detractors points the way for athletes
of the future, He didn't top Ruth's
record to undermine Ruth's greatness:
Aaron seeks only to move the sport to
new levels of excellence. He is truly a
man of greatness in all way
Frederick C. Meier
Palos Hills, I

ois

I jumped into your interview with
much gusto, even though I'm not much
of а baseball as disturbed. how-
ever, by the negative nature of many of
5 comments. Aaron, I believe,
carries much more on his shoulders now
than a mere home-run record. He must
be on guard from now on and be a
bigger man.

Sid A. Grubbs
Ft. Lauderdale, Florida

xl and distressed at Aar-
the interview, "I don't

I was surpri
on's statement ii

think any black man can destroy a white
man's record, because . . . the press ain't
gonna let it happen: white people in
general ain't gonna let it happen.” I fol-
lowed Aaron's assault оп Babe Ruth's
record with interest, but it wouldn't
have occurred to me that a black was su
passing a whites statistics if it hadn't
been dwelt on ad nauseam in the press.
Perhaps im another time and another
се. these things mattered. It's unfo
tunately true that some of Aaron's mail
reflects that other time wher
matter to some people, but E sincerely
doubt that most baseball fans today—
ilv not among my age group, who
ave nevi time when baseball
wasn't imtegrated—worry or care about
the color of the players anymore. I hope
Aaron comes to realize th
Jay M. Pa
Williamstown, Massachusetts.

Henry Aaron is exemplary of all that's
good in bascball. Your interview is forth-
Tight and revealing of а man under
ying circumstances in the spotlight of
wold attention, He conducted himself
well. Litle League
athlete whose name will become legend.

Peter MeGovern, Chair
Little League Baseball
Williamsport, Pennsyly

INSURANCE: PRO AND CON
Raymond L. Dirks and Leonard

Gross's May article on the Equity Fund-

ng scandal, How the New York Stock
Exchange, the Life Insurance Industry,
the SEC and a Host of Other Guardians
of the Public Weal Allowed the Ameri-
сап Public to be Swindled Ош of
$100,000,000, made some fine points. I
dustry regulators are underbudgeted,
derstaffed. often uninspired. Auditor
goof and the public, in matters fi

Hortun:
tributed to
consumers.

Gross rel

the waste of dollars by
In the article, Dirks and
to lile insurance as “an infe-

ior lifetime s;
Tittle as three p
ance is no savings at all

cies, any
urer at death

ings
the "savings"
any policy is based solely on speculation
of survival. Similarly, life insurance is no
vesiment, good or bad, although Dirks
oss refer to as that
in their article. Lil fea
ture, the investment f ny policy
t death. Furthermore, no in

surance company shares йз profits
directly with its policyholders. Not even
policies ihat pay dividends "pay you

ccording to how well the [insurance
ics] do with the money you give
Dividends not a share of

I’m a thinking guy:
so I'm hard to se

| don't buy гё

Il listen to ther
and if | think
Everyone's t

and I'm willig

But I’m really
After shaves
That's why I u

| like what Brio

It doesn’t come
and neither do
Instead it's sort ОЁ
And anyway, | ag
itsmells great. `

AFTER SHAVE: COLOCNE- GIFT SETS

PLAYBOY

mutual company profits, they are mere-
ly a partial return of overcharge. That's
why no one pays income tax on them;
they do not resemble corporate div
dends. Life insurance is an investment.
terms of peace of mind.

Dave Goodwin, Insurance Consultant
Miami, Florida

I've gone a few rounds with insurance
salesmen since my recent ma
consequently, 1 read The Bottom Line,
Dirks 1 Gros's box on life insur-
се, with great interest, I've found that
to have an insurance salesman advise any-
one on estate planning is much like hav-

ing the prisoners guard the prison. 1
have caught several salesmen in the in-
correct manipulation of figures. One

salesman in particular did not even
know how to take the standard and mar-
ital deductions pertaining to estate
taxes! Since not all consumers can take
the time to prepare thorough studies of
lifcinsurance policies, we will continue
to see the American public bilked out of
millions of dollars a year. We can only
hope that individuals like Dirks and
Gross will continue to speak out against
abuses of the system.

Capt. Richard J. Conoboy. U. S. A.

West Point, New York

I take exception to The Bottom Line.
In it, the authors state, "The only time
you песа life insurance is when you must
protect your dependents.” That state-
ment is certainly open to question. Life
insurance serves a legitimate need not
only for dependent. protection but also
for estate protection. Dying is terribly
costly nowadays. what with estate taxes,
probate costs and other expenses re
quired to make estates liquid. In adi
tion, the а person does
not need protection after the age of 50.
But, because many people dic after 65,
it is impractical to advise people to buy
term insurance (as the authors write),
since it is almost impossible to secure that
type of coverage at any advanced age.

Michael L. Searcy, Sales Manager
fic Mutual Life Insurance
Phoenix. Ai

Dirks and Gross cite the annual. pre-
mium cost of a $100,000 wholelife pol-
y. purchased at the age of 25, as $2000.
The annual premium cost of a $100,000
wholelife policy of the sort described,
however, is not $2000 but about $1700,
and this is the rate for а mutual com-
pany. wh igher rate than a stock
company. “By the age of 50,” Dirks and
Gross write, “you will have paid $50,000.
The cash value of your policy will be
about $50,000.” Using the correct $1700

more, his cash value and dividends wi
total closer to $67,000 than to $50,000.

This represents a return over cost of
$24,500. The authors advise buying
$100,000 worth of renewable term insur-
ance at the age of 95, the premium of
which will average about $700. Then,
they suggest investing the difference be-
tween wholelife and renewable term.
premiums, which is $1300. ОЁ course, the
actual difference is $1000. Using that
figure, and even the authors’ question-
able estimate of increasing the invested
equity by seven and a half percent each
year, the return on such an investment
by the арс of 50 will be about $50,000
after taxes (somen irks and Cross
conveniently avoid mentioning). What's
more, there will also be a Federal estate
t death. How will our investor pay
? By purchasing a policy at the age of
50? A one-year renewable term policy will
cost $1525 per y.
that will е:
$1000 a year the
for investment. Project tha
the age of 65 and I'm afr:
and Gross’s advice to “buy term insurance
and invest the difference" isn't borne
out by their analysis.

Jerry M. Helller, Insu

Dallas, Texas

tax

ting the difference, Dirks
‘The last person to tell
lc I
yone this
analyst,

and Gross say,
you this is your insurance
assume the first person to tell a
would be his friendly securit
who'd be in a position to recommend

investing instead in some choice common
stock—like Equity Funding.

Frank P. Samford, Jr.

Chairman of the Board

Liberty National Life Insurance
Birmingham, Alabama
Contrary to what is indicated in the

article, I know for a fact that commission
chairman William J. Casey did not quash
an investigation of I.T.&T. but. rather,
supported a court action against the com-
pany and two of its officers who had sold
stock on inside information. Also, hough
Dirks has reason to be unhappy about the
personal results of the Equity Funding
case, he must concede that when pre-
sented with firm evidence of fraud—as
opposed to a vague discussion based on
secondhand gossip between lawyers at a
lower level—the SEC acted in record time
to suspend trading in Equity Funding
and prevent further losses. Testimony
given before an open Senate subcommit-
tee session last year establishes that the
commission's performance in the Fquity
Funding matter was entirely appropriate
Charles S. Whitman III
New York, New York
Dirks and Gross reply:

The letters in reaction to “The Bottom
Line" illustrate how the life-insurance
industry has succeeded in (car-gassing the

young American male into insensibility
when it comes to purchasing life insur-
ance. Life-insurance salesmen do develop
schemes for using life insurance to save
income taxes, capilal-gains taxes and es-
tate taxes, but these generally make sense
only for the individual who is wealthy
enough not to need protection against un-
timely death. For most people, however,
life insurance should be purchased to
provide only one vital function—to pro-
tect dependents against the untimely
death of their breadwinner. For as little
as $350 a year, a 25-year-old man can.
obtain $100,000 oj death benefits in a
termvinsurance policy. But life-insurance
salesmen and the com panics they repre-
sent will not generally recommend poli-
cies offering pure protection—which, of
course, are those with the lowest commis-
sions for the agent and the lowest profit
margins for the company. Instead, life
insurers generally ignore the needs of the
prospects by peddling whole-life insur-
ance, which is a combination of protec-
tion and investment. But such a policy
will cost anywhere from three to five
limes as much per dollar of protection
provided. If you can afford it, a whole-
life policy will cost between $1000 and
$2000 a year, depending on how much in
“living benefits” you're talked into tack-
ing on. Obviously, living benefits is a
euphemism for an investment plan, a way
of getting your money back. If you cannot
afford the extra. dough, the insurance
salesman will still try to sell you a whole-
life policy, but with only а $35,000 death
benefit. Which is fine if you make it to
the age of 65; but if you die a young man,
your widow and children are $65,000
poorer than they'd be if you'd purchased a
5100.000 term policy. We stand by our
original advice: Buy all the protection
you need and can afford before you con-
sider a savings plan masquerading as in-
surance. As for the SEC's vole in the
Equity Funding scandal, we admit that
chairman Casey may have supported court
action against LTT. But in his own
testimony before the House Special Sub-
committee on Investigations, Casey, in
effect, admitted suppressing damaging
evidence against 1.T 4T. for political rea-
sons prior to the 1972 elections. He also
rejected his staff's recommendations that
LTT. be charged with fraud. As we
demonstrate in “That Great Wall Street
Scandal,” from which article was
excerpted, the SEC failed scveral times
to act on alleg
of highly placed employees of Equity
Funding itself long before the fraud was
finally exposed.
[v]

our

tions made by а number

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PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS

entlemen, be seated: Reacting to stiff
fines imposed on eight of his pla
of the San Di
Chargers once again proposed ih
team members undergo a urine test after
football games. That was when the
Chargers’ player representative, Joe Beau-
champ. declared: “T think it’s ridiculous
to think men would stand for that sort
oft

for drug use, the own!

but you should see who rides the
Delaware's Wilmington Morning
daims that “Clinton Anderson,

News

ст. has decided to make up for
nding athletic carcer
(he хийе 19 defeats in 19 bouts—all
of them by knockouts) by christening his
baby da Maria Sullivan Corbett
Fivsimmons Jefhies Hart Burns John-
son Willard Dempsey Tunney Schmeling
Sharkey € Baer Braddock
Charles Walcott Marciano Patterson. Ja

Louis

nera

hansson Liston Clay Frazier Foreman
Brown.
C'mon, Pedro (sniff TH bet we

st (snort!) the whole goddamn
Dispatches out of Sant
Chile, reveal that 44 pounds of confis-
veral

could ar
continen,

cated cocaine were burned before s
“high police officials."

^m
is superiors at the Nebraska Dep

intemance cugincer reported to

ient of Roads that the following items
e found discarded at numbered rest
stops along a state highway: rest stop

189, Y's swcater; rest stop 191, a
wor rest stop 193, panties and
bra; rest stop 198, a rumpled blanket.

wom

Look, we're not picking on Poland,
but these things do happen: Museum cu-
rators in Gdańsk announced recently that
two valuable paintings—a Vandyke and a
Brueghel—had been stolen and replaced
by fakes. The thefts weren't noticed
until the Brueghel fell from the gallery
1 and it was discovered that it was
a reproduction cut out of a weel
zine that sells for 15 cents. Nobody know
how long the fakes were on exhibit

ly maga

A new shop has opened in Newport
Beach, California. It sells accessories for
the bedroom and the bathroom. Its
name: Come 'N Go.

‘The new, improved Army: According
to the American Journal of Nursing, a
fairly kicky sign was posted on the

bulleum board of an Army hospital: ALL
NURSES WILL WEAR WHITE STOCKINGS ONLY.
ANYONE FOUND WEARING ANYTHING ELSE
WILL BE SUBJECT TO DISCIPLINARY ACTION.

Typos аге part of this section's stock
in wade, and every once in a while the
continuing trials of setting type touch a

soft spot in our heart. This is one of
them, from four consecutive issues of a
North Carolina newspaper

мохрлү: For Sale, a

Call Mr

d sewing
Tom Kelly at
3 seven o'clock and ask
Mis. Perkins who lives with
him cheap.

TUESDAY: Correction—An error ap-
peared in Mr. Tom Kelly's classified
advertisement yesterday. It should
have read. For sale, a used sewing
machine cheap. Call Mr. Tom Kelly
at 3455 and ask for Mrs. Per
who lives with after
o'clock.

WEDNESDAY: Mr. Tom Kelly has re-
ported several annoying telephone
calls as a result of a classified adver-
tisement that appeared in this news-
paper yesterday, The ad stands
Corrected: For sale, a used sewing
machine, cheap. Call Mr. Tom Kelly
after seven o'clock at 555-3455 and
k for Mrs. Perkins who loves
with him

machine.
55 aftei

him

seven

rnuxspAY: Notice: I, Tom Kelly,
no longer have it
chine for sale. I
smashed it. I also no longer have a
housekeeper, Mrs. Perkins resigned

yesterday.

d sewing ma

took an and

A reader has just brought us up to date
on the progress the nation is making in
removing filth from our geography text
books. Jt appears that Whorehouse Flats
in Oregon has been renamed Naughty
Girl Meadow, with no hope of reprieve.
Cathouse Creek in Montana and Red
w in Texas have escaped eu
phemization, but we were saddened to
hear that Arizona's Shit House Mountain
d Bull Shit Canyon are officially re-
ferred to as S. Н. Mountain and B. S. Can-
yon, Watch this space.

Kind of a frustrating combination, if
you ask us: Opponents of fluoridation
have used all sorts of arguments: in
California, voters were told that lluorida
tion led to impotence, while in New Jer-
sey, at a public hearing, it was said to
The New Jersey

cuse nymphomania

PLAYBOY

Dental Association, which supports fluori-
dation, concluded in a statement that
the conflicting claims were “not a bad

Herb Caen's Headline of the Month,
as reported in his popular San Francisco
ronicle column, gets our vote, too:
shed across three columns of the Palo
Alto Times, over a story about a woman
who loves to fix cars, was the headline
“WOMAN CONSUMMATES LOVE AFFAIR WITH

IREASE RACK.”

A group of students from the State Uni-
versity of New York at Buffalo decided
not to toss ап effigy of President Nixon
over the American Falls; police said that
if they did, they would be charged with
polluting the Niagara River.

Gralfito inside the men's room of the
Liberal Arts Building of the University
of Arizona: TIME IS JUST NATURES WAY
OF KEEPING EVERYTHING FROM HAPPENING
AT ONCE.

A letter received by
column had this provocative open
paragraph: “I have heard that certain
famous people in history have bcen
homosexuals. The only one to come to

PLAYBOY'S HALL
ОЕ FLEETING FAME

popular advice

Exotic dancer Frenchie Renee: For
proving that snakes are more intelli-
gent than exotic dancers. Miss Renee,
who sports her wares in a San Francis-
co night club, recently broke the world
record for remaining buried alive with
snakes. She was buried for 25 days in
a six-foot coffin with four rattlesnakes
and a boa constrictor.

mind is Michelangelo. I also heard a weck
or so ago that Rock Hudson is bisexual.
Is this true, or are they just roomers?

A public meeting on population
growth in Frederick County, Maryland,
had to be postponed when too many
people showed up at the hearing room.
The overflow crowd w told to return
the following week, when the meeting
would be held in the auditorium.

According to the National Enquirer.
chicken cr Colonel Sanders expressed
these extra-crispy thoughts on the state of
America’s youth today: "Look at all
those dirty hippics across the country.
"There's hundreds of them. Venereal dis-
ease in the hippie colonies runs ramp:
They tke dope, shooting cach other
with the same dirty needles. Hepatitis i
widespread.”

An incredibly potent purebred bull
was given a party to celebrate its second
birthday at the Colorado State Fair.
у П s short life span, the bull had
sired 5000 calves. The ani . owned hy
the Golden Company of Oklahoma, was
named Golden Rod at birth.

BOOKS

If the CIA could kill men and move-
ments as well as it can kill books—such
asThe CIA and the Cult of Intelligence (Knopl),
by Victor Marchetti and John Marks—
the Cold War Jong ago would have
turned into a rout and we would have
been able to dismantle our conventional
military organizations and go back to
raising families, crops. hell and other
natural things. Trouble is, we Ameri-
cans never really had much aptitude for
the kind of dirty work that comes pretty
much as second nature to the Russians.
Instead of steely-eyed KGB. operatives
who do their work without remorse or
romance, we hired buffoons like E. How-
ard Hunt, with his feverish imagination
and his taste for good living. So we got
the Bay of Pigs, Operation Phoenix and
various other disasters as part of the deal.
Tn short, we got an organization (insiders
1 it The Agency or The Firm or even
Mother, and they usually whisper the
words in tones of grave awe) that can kill
a lot of people without improving any-
thing. A very bad bargain.

But when word of this book reached
CIA headquarters in Langley, Virginia,
the sleuths went right to work, (Inciden-
tally, the lavish СТА headquarters. was
at one time “secret” and the highway

exiis leading to it either were not
marked at all or were marked by signs

that were intended to mislead. This, in
spite of the fact that everybody in Wash-
ngton who was above school age knew
what that building was and what went
on there. But the agency has never been

deterred by ridicule over its obsession
with secrecy. When the building was
under construction, the contractor who
was installing the air conditioning
needed to know how many people his
machinery would have to cool. Sorry,
buddy, he was told, but that’s classified.
He did the best he could, but the system
never worked properly. The agency took
him to court and lost—as usual) Any-
тау, nobody in the CIA was happy
about it when it was learned that Ma

Чеш, a CIA veteran, had а book in

mind. Since he'd signed some oaths
about not revealing classified intelli
gence material, they slapped an injunc-
tion on him. Marchetti, his publisher
and the A.C.L.U, argued that this was
prior restraint and in violation of the

Fis Amendment. Not so, said the
judge. It’s a contractual mancr, just
like bank lo d alimony. After

several complicated appeals, Marchetti
won—sort of

You wouldn't know it ro read this
book. It looks as if it was put together by
a printer stumbling down the road to
dipsomania: The pages are a blinding
mixture of plain type, boldface and
large areas of white space with DELETED
stamped over them. Those are the parts
that are still under litigation, The bold-
faced portions represent deletions orig
inally insisted upon by the CIA that the
courts have allowed to be published. If
the stuff that belongs on the white parts
is as "damaging" as the stuff that ap-
pears in boldface, then these ruthless
minions of sabotage and espionage are
more chary of their virtue and reputa.
tion than the average spinster from Mo.
bile. Which is to say that though this
is a good book—what there is of it
(perhaps ten percent of the original was
deleted and will be restored in later edi
tions)— it's not one that adds in апу con-
siderable way t0 our fund of knowledge
about the CIA, The deletions themselves
are probably the most dramatic message
in this book.

As long as youre r
which adm
but the way th

ng deletions—
edly requires some practice,
ngs are going, we'll all
soon get the hang of it—pick up a copy
of The White House Trenscripts (Bantam,

PLAYBOY

Dell, ct al) and try to figure out just
what expletives are deleted. Fascinating.
You wonder how good the President and
his men are at blue language—which is
an art with its own aesthetics and
rhythms. They probably aren't very good
and say things like *#$&%! when any
sailor with two years in the fleet knows
the proper term is $¢°,&*SK¢. A work of
little clegance and even less insight but,
unfortunately, a must to r
Finally, in the matters of Watergate,
the crisis of confidence and how did a
nice country like jou get into a mess
like this, read All the President's Men (Simon
& Schuster), by Carl Bernstein and Bob
Woodward. Irs likely you've already
read the excerpts we published in our
May and June issues; but that's OK.
There's a lot more where they came from.
Did you think that there was sim-
ply nothing left on God's green carth to
about bullfighting, that writers I
worked that mi it was as bı
as Monty Hall's soul? Well, you didn't
account for William Hjortsberg. His book
Tere! Того! Того! (< Schuster) is about
bullfighting, but in about the same way
that Gravity's Rainbow is about rockets.
Suffice it to say that Hjortsberg handles
a tricky plot so deftly that you will be
awed. And beyond his technical skill,
there is his dark imagination. You prob-
ably wouldn't expect to find a mysterious
Chinese, а computerized bull, a sensuous
groupie w 1 thing for bulls—if you
Know what we mean—a couple of South-
ern California hustlers and a rhinoceros
in à novel about bullfighting, would yo
Well, they're all here. And, as they say.
much more besides. This book is a de-
light. so buy it, read it, then tell a friend
bout it; but don’t lend him your copy.
Get him to buy one. That way we can
make Hjortberg rich. He deserves it.

Too bad Gahan Wilson doesn't do our
book reviews. He could draw a dandy
for Philip Roth's new novel, My Life os
a Nan (Holt, Rinehart & Winston): one
of those cheerily bloodcurdling cartoons
of a psychiatrist's office, where a mutant
couch is growing like a dark virulent
fungus and spreading out the window
into the city below. Roth is again riding
his favorite subway, the Sex and Guilt
Local, with stops at all aps and
neuroses, but this time he leaves you
wondering whether the wip was really
necessary. My Life is more like a final
exam for a correspondence course in
psychiatry than a novel. It’s about Peter
Tarnopol, Famous Fucked-Up Jewish
Writer, and his famously fucked-up life
with women. It begins with two seemingly
autobiographical short stories by Tar-
nopol, followed by his actual autobiog-
aphy. Clever. First we get Tarnopol's
ity transmuted into Art, brimming

with existential irony and Meaning; and
then we get the real thing, sce how he's
squeezed the Meaning out of tawdry con-
fusion and soap-opera sadness, His emo-
tional landscape looks like Disney World
after a hurricane, and his main interest
in life, with some help from his shrink,
is wandering like some Freudian insur-
nce inspector through the wreckage,
wondering what happened. It was prob-
ably intended as a dark parody of such
do-it-yourself analysis. and sometimes it's
very funny, but finally what we get is
dragged along on somebody else's couch.
which is great fuel for cocktail parties
but gets a little dreary in print without
those three drinks first.

Flying (Knopf) is Kate Millett’s auto-
biography. It is long, dense, written with-
out much noticeable skill, self-indulgent,
self-pitying, narcissistic, confusing—and
damned fascinating. Millett is the woman
who wrote Sexual Politics one of the

first serious feminist manifestoes. The
book made her a celebrity and that nearly
drove her mad. Her picture was on the
cover of Time, she was called on to give
speeches and appear on television, she
of the movement.
Her sisters resented that. Then she an-
nounced that she was ga
nd that m
¢ movement, straights insisted, by
tying it to lesbianism. The gays wanted
her to become an advocate for their cause
exclusively. The politics were first Byzan-
tinc, then malicious and, in the end,
ly violent. Millett tells it all, a
means all. The detail can overwhelm you,
but inside this mass of words, there is
significant book about women, the move-
ment and, to be arch, Our Times. This
is, almost in spite of itself, an important
book.

Recipe for The Dogs of War (Viking),
another boring and silly adventure fable
by Frederick Forsyth:

One gang of tough
professionals.

and ruthless

Another gang of tough and ruthless
professionals.

One improbable African republi

Its president, a tough and
ic.

A jigger of Commics.

A mountain of platinum,

Assorted tough and ruthless despe
does, preferably short, compact, lean,
hatchetfaced, two-fisted, with curved
beaks for noses.

A teenage nymphomaniac.

A thick paste of purportedly factual
detail about guns and Swiss banks, ever
ly mixed with racist tripe.

Add а number of resounding p
tudes; e.g.. conversation between unlikely
African general (suffers from terminal
stiff upper lip and a weakness for Shakc-
spearcan reverie) and Shannon, the tough
and ruthless Irish mercenary:

“Another fight, Major Sl

“Another fight, sir.

“But always somebody else's.

“That's our way of life.” said Shannon.

Heat over a feeble flame for 22 cl
making sure cach section ends with
a sentence or two that promises to del
er something intangibly ominous in the
next section; eg.. "You have one hundred
days, Mr. Sh
One hundred

Pause for a quick fuck.

Before taking the pot off boi
in trusted dashes of flavor: cons
stricken geologist with crippled daugh-
nd a
-Hitler Youth type pre-
ferred. Forsyth, an accomplished fry
cook, even uses seve
his recipe, one of whom actually dares
use the phrase “Goll in Himmel"; but
this kind of audacity is not recommend-
ed for beginners.

uthless
lui

The Gulag Archipelago (Harper & Row),
by Alexandr Solzhenitsyn, indicts par
ticular men in a specific time and
place—but. its implications are ominous
ly universal. This book will affect your
life, whether you read it or not, for
the spindly U. S.-U. S. R. détente will
surely be shaken by its grim disclosures.
The acronym GULAG denotes the cen
wal authority that articulates the Soviet
system of "corrective labor camps." The
archipelago is Solzhenitsyn's metaphor
for the vast chain of “islands” —imerro
gation centers, prisons and their support
facilities—that stretches both a
continent and a half century of suspi
cion and terrorism: a paranoid. monstros-
ity frozen in the ice of its own seciecy.
Solzhenitsyn in exile is the system's
sworn enemy. Like a cosmonaut out of
control, he orbits about its clenched still
ness, raging with concern. His ghost
could not haunt his oppressors more tire-
lessly if they had, indeed, murdered him.
The book is, we learn, barely one thi
of Solzhenitsy
Many will find its clumsy organization

across

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The Sunstroke.

(Sometimes less is тоге.)

Fora long time we clung
to the notion that longer days
called for longer drinks. That
any suggestion we made for
summer ought to be served
ina tall glass. The neatness
of that logic, we now realize, ‘a To make a Sunstroke,
blinded us to its flaws. pour 1% oz. Smimoff and 3 oz.

What matters, obviously, is grapefruit juice into a short
not howlong a drink is, but glass with ice. Add alittle
how good. So before you pack Triple Sec or sugar and stir.
all your stubby little glasses in À
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PLAYBOY

impenetrable, its furious wealth of docu-
mentation impossibly prolix. Из order-
ing seems compulsive. А long account,
through several chapters, details the care-
ful reshaping of "the Jaw” into an obedi-
ent instrument of repression. Solzhenitsyn
depicts favored varieties of i
and tort ketches the history of the jail
system, crystallizes the experience of im-
prisonment in a stark, impressionistic

rrative inset. Is it a good book? Does
it even matter?

Solzhenitsyn reveals the volunteered
testimony of many victims and tells his
own remarkable story. Looking at the
practice of capital punishment, he focus-
es on the recorded reaction of men who
waited to be shot. W of men. he
wonders, became tors”? Who

allowed unquestioning subordinates to

execute unspecific orders, orders he
would only imply? You, the reader, are
dragged roughly in: Would you have rc-
sisted? What could any of us have done?
Perhaps the book will be less important
for the devastating facts it reveals than
for the angry questions it won't stop a
ng. Here's one for all of us: Is it truc, as
Solzhenitsyn claims, that in 1946-1947
the American and British governments
"perfidiously returned" to the Soviet
government more than 1,000,000 fu;
tive—to what they surely knew was im-
mediate execution? Is it truc, too, that
the Allies have since then kept those ac-
tions a secret from their own rens? If
so. if its other allegations are less n
rowly "Soviet" than we wish to believe
but. instead, attest to fears and evils uni-
versal іп men, then it will not be enough
to ask what kind of people those were
who could do such things. We must ask,
as well, what kind of people we are,

THEATER

A professional like Sammy Cabn can
set anything to words, even the word eh,
as he says in his chatty, informal evening

of musical reminiscences, Words and Music.
Actually, that may be one of the few
not

ions of letters he has
rhymed, and re-rhymed, du
career in Hollywood a
Ebulliendy and with refres
(he is frank about his facility, doesn't
label it an art form), he leads us affec-
ely through his life, dispensing tips
ric writing and anecdotes about his
borators (chiefly Jimmy Van Heu-
sen) and his interpreters (who include
and Doris Day). He makes
the writing of Three Coins їп the Foun-
lain, one of his biggest hits, into a comic
dif-hauper. Accompanied by Richard
Leonard at the piano, Cahn, а natural
performer, sings—or, rather, melodically
croaks—many of his songs. and has help
[rom three talented accomplices, Jon

combii

Peck, Shirley Lemmon and, particularly,
Kelly Garrett, who sensuously entwines
her silky voice around such Cahn stand-
ards as Until the Real Thing Comes
Along. At the John Golden, 252 West
45th Sureet.

The Sea Horse is the third dram: suc
cess to move from the tiny offoff-Broad-
way Circle Repertory Theater Company
to a commercial run off-Broadway. Its

worthy predecessors, both of them also
naturalistic, were The Hot L Baltimore
and When You Gomin’ Bach, Red Ryder?
The Sea Horse has only two characters,
but in this case, that’s enough. They are

Harry Bales, a garrulous ship's engineer.
For a long time, they have been lovers
a voyage, Harry has
decided to brave his shipmates' scorn and
marry "two-ton" Gertie. He proposes. She
laughs. And we are off
оп two heart-warming
hours with two vi-
brandy alive people,
who finally touch
each other's vulnera-
bilitiesand find com-
mon ground for mu-
tual support. This

is a small,
bittersweet
romance,
lovingly
directed by
Marshall. W.

Mason and

acted with enor-

mous humor and perception by Concha-
ta Ferrell and Edward J. Moore—who is
also the author of the play under the
pseudonym James Irwin. As an actor,
Moore has a г us charm. As a

mbunci

feeling for lonely people
trapped in emotional cubicles of their
own creation. At the Westwide, 407
West 43rd Street.

RECORDINGS

The Mysterious Rhinestone Cowboy (Colum-
bia) is David Allan Coe's first album.
on a major label. He's a young, wondi
fully gifted lyricist, whose power and
eloquence are reminiscent of Bob Dylan's
best years and whose simplicity and feel-
ing for the poetry of our everyday lan-
guage fit the best country tradition of
Hank Williams and Merle Haggard. The
al style
not as polished (or experienced) but with
the same conversational tone and matter-
1 y. This is not a slick album;
ions, only two or three
bly make it as singles
There is no star image to come between
the singer and the audience, no big PR.

of the ten sel
could concciv;

hype. Just an unpretentious down-to-
earth feeling that says David Allan Coe
is for real and may be around for a while.

One of the g gs to come out
of 1973's Monueux Jazz Festival was
Hampton Hawcss Pleyin’ in the Yard
(Prestige). With Hawes performing key-
board wizardry on electric and acoustic
pianos and with bassist Bob Cranshaw
and drummer Kenny Clarke for support,
the album is simply wonderful. Hawes
has had his ups and downs (which is
putting Пу) over the years, but he
has never sounded better than here.
There's something about Montreux that
brings out the best in a lot of people
Maybe it’s that Swiss air. Whatever,
Playin’ in the Yard is а must (ог any se
ous student of the jazz idiom.

lways with one foot firmly planted
alented drummer and
composer Billy Cobham pivots in a vari
ety of directions with some impressive re-
sults. Hard blues in a Latin mode, for
instance, comes of a collabo
guitarist Tommy Bolin and pi
Hammer оп Spectrum (Atl
han's first solo LP. Bolin h
technique and a direct fecling for the
blues that makes you think of Eric С
ton. Hammer's keyboard work is
short of Bachian, ballsy and interga
tic. Add the driving. perfectly controlled
Latin rhythms of Cobham's drums and
you discover on Stratus, To the Women
in My Life and Snoopy's Search that the

blues has affinities to both fugue and La
Cucaracha. Ws a remarkable synthesis of
t turns Brandenburg
and Harlem into suburbs of Rio.

On Crosswinds (Atlantic), his second
album, Cobham rides the more predicta
ble gusts between Mexico and Holly-
wood. The contrapuntal drumwork is
ularly on. The Pleas-
1
focus on brass and reeds together

s
ant Pheasant, but the more tradition

ll superb, pai

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PLAYBOY

with spotty solos by acid-rock guitarist
John Abercrombie and jazz trumpeter
Randy Brecker suggest movie sound
track rather than stereo speaker. Here
the attempt to crossbred Latin and aci
rock on Flash Flood and Crosswind is
standoff, while the Latin-jazz progeny on
Savannah the Serene and Heather are
born with peaked faces.

For a notion of what the Columbia
album Apocalypse, by John McLaughlin
and the Mahavishnu and London Sym-
phony orchestras (the latter under Mi-
chael Tilson Thomas),
rock tune that begins like Dimitri Shosta-
kovich in a belligerent mood. k off a
hard rhythm under the dissonance, then
thrust the melody into the screami
brass ovens of the old Kenton band. Cool
h lyrical guitar, then reheat and pas-
teurize in Aaron Copland's Third Sym-

phony. Follow with a funky guitar solo
in which McLaughlin roller-skates
ийе down an Escher s

case. Now add.

ngly musical fragmentation of
оша Коп, jeanne Ponty's mystically
quavering. hard-driving violin. So runs
Vision Isa Naked Sword. Transcendental.
There are [our more cuts. McLaughlin's
writing is impressive throughout, except
for near the end of Hymn to Him, where
his orbit about the Godhcad is only a leg
up from The Flight of ihe Bumblebe:
But listen closely even here. One of the
Four Horsemen of the Ma
Apocalypse is the Lone Ranger.

Milt Jackson's Goodbye (CTI), featur-
ing that phenomenal futist Hubert
Laws, gives Mr. Vibes a chance to stretch
out and do his thing in a lot looser con
text than when he's playing with the
MJQ. He also profits from having pro-
arter around to spur

ton is the pianist
(and a fine one) and Steve Gadd is a
perfectly adequate drummer, Опе ц
SKJ. was recorded a year prior to thc
rest of the album with a different line-
up (Herbie Hancock replaces Walton.
Cobham subs for Gadd, trumpeter Fred-
die Hubbard takes over for Laws) and
be the best of the lot. Hubbard,

is scintillating. But the rest of
the LP is fi mk: The tide tu De-
tour Ahead, Old Devil Moon and Horace
Silver's moving Opus de Funk grab hold
and don't let go.

ishnu

John Glenn went around the world
three times, which isn't bad for some-
body from Ohio. But he never got as far
ош as the Ohio Players do on Skin Tight
(Mercury). In case you're not hip to the
s, they've been together for about
years and they're one of the self-
contained groups that are currently
nsorming r&b music (self-contained
ns that they sing, play and compose—
rh, Wind & Fire or Kool &

like
the Gang, two of the other groups that

are really out there doing it). The
album—with a provocative cover de-
у our own Assistant. Art Director
lis- consists of six fairly extend-
ed jams, varying in mood from the
supersexy title tune to the romantic
Heaven Must Be Like This to the album
closer, fs Anybody Gonna Be Saved?, а
pulsating Cospelrock number with a
pertinent message. Nola bene: If you
missed the group's trilogy of albums оп
the Westbound label—Pleasure, Pain and
Ecstasy—you ought to pick up on them;
they're chock-full of compelling music.
And the album covers will just knock
your eyes out.

Settle back, kick your shoes off and
unbend to the mellifluous sounds of the
Roger Kellaway Cello Quartet on Come
to the Meadow (ARM). Kellaways piano,
in concert with the percussion of Emil
Richards, Chuck Domanico’s bass and
the soft-as-butter cello of Edgar Lustgar-
den, will make the listener forget about
that big hairy old world out there. The
high point for us is Time, the last track
on side one, which docs as much as any-
thing we know to show the difference
between restful and soporific. They're all
Kellaway compositions and all charming.

MOVIES

A lot has changed on the movie scene
since Orson Welles, at the age of 25,
made his directorial debut with the n
jestic, timeless Citizen Kane, a film clas-
sic to measure all classics
by. Today's fledg-
ling directors may
pay lip service
io Welles, but
most of them,
in fact, follow

in the tradition
ol writers
whose first

novels (from James Joyce's Portrait of
the Artist as à Young Man to J. D. Sal
ger's Catcher in the Rye or John Up
Rabbit, Run) charted the growing
pains of boys about to enter, ready or
not, the hairy state of manhood.

The nostalgia vogue, of course, has
something to do with it. In a jigsaw
modern world where few of the pieces

fit, looking
pier days is becoming a national pas-
time. Summer of 42 gave impetus to the
trend, partly because it made home-front
adolescent agony during World War
Two seem positively idyllic compared
with the problems of being young in the
era of Vietnam and Kent State. Pred
ing even the phenomenal success of "12
writer-director Francis Ford Coppola’
first feature, You're a Big Boy Now, was
а comedy of adolescence that paved the
way for him to take on heavy adult
themes in such hits as The Godfather
and The Conversation. Other examples
abound. Take Brian DePalma’s Hi, Mom!,
Martin Scorsese's semiautobiographical
Who's That Knocking at Му Door
(followed in 1973 by the gritt
Streets), George Lucas’ crowd.pl
American Graffiti, Charles
All-American Boy, Terrence Malick's
Badlands and Joseph Jacoby's Hurry Up,
or I'll Be 30. All аге set in the fairly re-
cent past, roughly corresponding to the
years when the film makers and/or thei
contemporaries were play
stealing hubcaps. soaking up
on television, straining to break umbilica
cords—or simply trying to get laid.

These film makers, mostly under 30,
jostle for a place among those Most
Likely to Succeed and spur Hollywood's
veterans to greater efforts, What sets the
young directors apart from their elders is
kind of first-person candor and im.

acy seldom encountered, much less
by the bloodhiounds sniff
ing over scripts in a major studio's story
department, While these rising talents
seem closer in spirit to European direc-
tors whose New Wave works were greet
ed as revelations a decade or so ago
(Truffaut's The 400 Blows and Godard's
Breathless, for example), they are ac-
tually brothers to the budding authors
who heeded the sage advice of their
profs in English Composition 1 to “write
about what you know."

New York-born. Jacoby was a suitable
99 when he began writing Hury Up.
or ГИ Be 30. mpressive 1973 re-

Mean

an
lease about a Brooklyn schnook who

decamps from his dad's printing shop
to explore the glamor of the city—
lly as
Shangri

La— an о Broad.

y actress he happens to meet. "My
ngs of loss, and the need for
some sort of identity,” says Jacoby, give

the movie's chull a sting of
truth, Since the director himself was de-
vising TV game shows at the age of 19
(he used to be a writer on Let's Make a
Deal), he can't quite call his work ашо-
phical—yet Hurry Up's hero wa
by John Lefkowitz, a buddy of
his since high school. Jacoby admittedly
got his career into orbit both profession.
ally and aesthetically by returning to the
terra firına of personal experience. His

"I could take this all year long, Miss Abernathy.”

Entertainment that reaches right to the heart of today's urbane man.
Incisive humor . . . breath-taking females . . . uproarious cartoons . . . revealing interviews, fact, fiction and fashion . . .
plus a continuous outpouring of all that's new and interesting.
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PLAYBOY

first film, to be precise, was a “cooked-
up” suspense melodrama titled Shame,
Shame. His next, significantly, will be
Harry Had a Gandy Store, Business It
Was Poor, which he hopes to start shoot-
ing this fall with someone like George
Segal cast as а Madison Avenue hotshot
trying to untangle family ties in the
Bronx.

Of course, the public's scemingly insati-
able appctite for nostalgia won't last.
Nothing lasts in the fickle film world ex-
cept a great film, yet the new breed of
moviemakers—granted the continuing
freedom to be themsclvcs—may finally
produce one. Meanwhile, the screen keeps
g up with youthful reminiscence as
if that long hot Summer of 42 would
never end.

Best and liveliest among recent entries
п thc field is The Lords of Flatbush, CO-
directed by Marty Davidson—a onetime
talent agent who handled such promis-
ing newcomers as Ali MacGraw
Jon Voight—and Stephen Verona,
earned a bundle writing TV commercials.
Years later, looking into the past with a
certain amount of sophistication, D:
son wrote a scenario called The Way
Things Used to Be. Verona had some-
thing else in mind, titled Sexual Freedom
in Brooklyn. So they pooled their re-
sources. "Steve was a
jacket type," says Davidson,
took my characters and put them into
leather jackets.” The result was Lords, a
crudely photographed but explosively
funny, honest and downbeat recollection
of what it was like to be growing up in
Brooklyn circa 1957. Filmed on the sly
(n other words, after hours) in and
around Brooklyn's Tilden High School,
Davidson's mater, the movie de-
scribes how four dudes named Wimpy,
Stanley, Butchey and Chico (played with

ugging zest by Paul Mace, $

vester Stallone, Henry Winkler and Ре
age to keep the world safe for
ducktail haircuts—until Stanley gets ma
ried after carelessly knocking up a chick
whose wildest dreams will be s.
by a $1600 d
house. “I scc а lot of me i
guy who's definitely gonna get outa
there,” says Davidson, who for auld lang
syne took a role as an aggressive jewelry.
store sale | the film's cruel and

says a black-leather-
so 1 just

Butehey, а

ious buyingthering scene. Тһе
efforts of Chico to make out with a
WASPy, welbbroughtup girl (Susie

Blakely) who can't see herself as just
nother Saturday-night score at the drive-
in ave both amusing and true. Lords ab-
solutely lacks the slickness and showbiz
bollo of American Graffiti, say, but it's
twice as real. If you were there at the
corner candy store, sucking up cgg
ad digging Elvis, this tops a

ion.
Three other films, though begging to be
loved, could be used to argue for a

moratorium on trips down Memory Lane.
Our Time takes place in 1955 at a New
England boarding school, where two
senior girls named Abby and Mufly (Pam-
cla Sue Martin and Betsy Slade) com-
pare notes on their first breathless
experiments with sexual intercourse:
"Did you cry? Did you bleed? Did it
hur Since abortion and death follow
as swift retribution, it зеет» to hurt a lot
in the tremulous first screenplay by 26-
year-old Jane С, Stanton, who attended
a posh New England girls’ school he

sclf—probably without benefit of dewy
soft-focus photography and limpid back-
ground music by Michel Legrand, part
of director Peter Hyams’ faltering effort
to bring back Summer of *42 in skirts.

Like Our Time, scenarist Alan Sillitoe's
The Ragmen's Daughter is technically im-
peccable, but hardly a step ahead for
the man who wrote Saturday Night and
Sunday Morning and The Loneliness of
the Long-Distance Runner at least ten
years ago. "There's this loser in his mid-
30s, a factory worker with a plain wife
and plain kids, who keeps returning in
flashbacks to his glorious juvenile delin-
quency—before he went to jail—when
he and a wonderful blonde (Victoria
Tennant) created excitement by break-
ing into lunchrooms, body shops
shoe stores. Both Simon Rouse, as young
Tony, and Patrick O'Connell, as the
man he becomes, are excellent, though
their past, present and future are made
only too clear in the film's first ten min-
utes. We've all been there before, buried
alive in British working-class despair.
Ragman's Daughter is so bloody literate,
predictable and precise in spelling out
bleak truths about society that it would
move The Lords of Flatbush to a bronx
cheer.

They trekked to backwoods Georgia
and flipped the calendar back ıo 1918
for Buster and Billie, with Michael
Vincent (a best bet among Holly
matinee idols of tomorrow) and J
Goodfellow teamed as another pair of
doomed young lovers. It’s a two-handker-
chief. tearjerke yone can still cry
this love, sex and death shtick that

‘ood

ve had it. and to spare. but one can't
lt the performers, and certainly not

icarted high school nonentity who be-
comes popular at gang-bangs, he as a
more sensitive stud who somehow per-
nner purity. Buster's sen:
tivity—relative to the retarded bumpk
typcs around him—can be summed up
succinctly in his observation “Two things
I think oughta be private . . . gettin"
laid and takin’ а shit" Director D:
Petrie plunges into such folklore like a
slicker putting up a rustic retreat
on Tobacco Road, tossing a few hones to
the underdog and carefully substitw
soft-core sentimentality for credibility
at every turn. His chief collaborator,

scenarist Ron Turbeville, claims that
everybody knew a girl like Billie in high
school—which may be true but doe
save Buster and Billie from mediocrity.
The movie's strongest. attention-getter is

m irrelevant Tarzan sequence down
at the ole swimmin’ hole, featuring full
frontal nudity, his and hers. Outside of
the skin flicks, there hasn't been much of
that in American films lately.

Going Places, a huge hit in Pari: is
а better-than-average chance of duplicat-
ing its success over here. Based on a con-
troversial novel by ector Bertrand
Blier, who also helped with the adapta
tion, the movie follows three easyriding
enfants terribles—two boys and a girl—
on a nonstop spree of thievery and sex à
trois. Blier’s ode to amorality is socked
across winningly by a delectable French
newcomer named Miou-Miou, a bored
tyshop attendant who more or less
being kidnaped by a pai
ves because she h
gusm. As her captors, Gerard
ardicu (subsequently signed to st
in a film for Bernardo Bertolucci) and
Patrick Dewaere keep the screen alive

Dep

relationship is

ape—though
Jean-Claude (Depardieu) assures his
outraged and ravished pal that every

thing gocs between friends, French s
perstar Jeanne Moreau cruises in briefly
as а woman just out of prison who
spends some of her pentup sex drive
with the boys, then shoots herself, firing
a pistol between her legs. In another bi-
zarre sequence, one of the lads gets shot
in the lelt testicle, It must be dear by
now that Going Places projects a fashion-
ably contemporary fuck“cm-all attitude
and docs the job well. Moreau's presence
serves as a reminder, however, that a
movie about three free spirits can be as

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PLAYBOY

humane and enlightened as Jules and
Jim, made in 1961 by Truffaut. “We're
peaceful . . . on the road, and we can
get it up any time we want,” says one
of Bliers don'tgivea-damn heroes. On
the bouon level, however, this pop saga
c and misanthropic, bc
finally, the viewer doesn't much gi
damn, either.

Eskimos arc terrific natural actors and
the frozen Canadian Arctic is a great
place to make a gripping adventure
movie, judging by the cvidence im The
White Dawn. James Houston's novel of the
same name was based on the true story
of three New England whaling men ma
тоопей on a desert of ice and snow in
the vicinity of Frobisher Bay some 80
years ago. How they were saved by a
nomadic Eskimo tribe, how they shared
the Eskimos’ wives and daughters and fi-
nally corrupted that gentle, primitive so-
cial order is the gist of the tale. Sex and
violence aside—and there's plenty of
both after civilized man comes—the
movie works primarily because it hap-
pens to be a fascinating yarn set in a
ittle-known Godforsaken corner of the
world where few film makers care to go
(there is a coterie of fans devoted to a
1960 cpic called The Savage Innocents,
starring Anthony Quinn, the only no

ticeable movie about Eskimos since Rob-
ert Flahertys classic Nanook of the
North). Chicagoborn director Philip

Kaufman (his career began with Gold-
stein) tackled Dawn in the company of
Warren Oates, Lou Gossett and Timo
thy Bottoms, who do everything anyone
could ask of actors in such a clin
But don't expect mirades of script,
performance or direction in this
There are rough spots—jarri
it
cares? Color photography makes an eerie
wonder of ile arctic waste, serving up

place far away from it all. Splendid trip
for a hot night in August

Zandy's Bride could be described as a
woman's pictur some liber-
ated modern mı
uncomfortable with it. Liv Ullmann and
Gene Hackman play the mating game
mail-order-wife division, which was one
American way of settling the wild West
a century or so ago. A Swedish immi

nt girl travels 2000 miles to Big Sur
country to marry а rough, hulking cattle
rancher who sizes her up as if the post
office had sent him damaged goods. “For
openers, you ain't no twenty-five,” he
snarls, "What else did you lie about?"
Because he basically secs the woman as a
brood mare, һе гарез her for a start. But
the worse he treats her, the tougher she
gets. The female of the species ultima
triumphs in the taming of a brute throu
an's intuition

and all those gentle attributes once
considered to equal true womanhood.
Ullmann and Hack-
man аге а surprisingly
potent duo, locked
in a primary bat-
Че of the sexes
with only the
simplest weap-

and making
a flimsy,
famil-
jar sce-
nario

look
very important.
The same meticu-
lous period flavor and leisurely, under-
stated style that Swedish director Jan
Trocll brought to his landmark films
The Emigrants and The New Land seem
almost second nature to Zandy's. Bride.
In fact, the movie might qualify as the
third part of a trilogy, though Troell’s
first [cature to be made entirely in the
U.S.A. stands knee-high beside his earlier
works about America.

Maybe times have changed too much
for an audience to work up any real ex-
citement about the plight of a rich.
giddy, hopelessly spoiled New York girl
who scandalizes the staid old-world soci-
ety of Rome and fashionable Swiss resorts
by her shocking
iudiscretions—such
as joini

a \
young gen- p

tleman foran
unchaperoned
tour of the

Castle of Chillon. That's the problem ot
Daisy Miller, based on a classic Henry James
story set in the early 1900s and assembled.
with tender loving care by producer-direc-
tor Peter Bogdanovich as a star vehicle for
close friend and favorite actress, Cyl
Shepherd. Sad to say, Bogdanovich's
beautiful protégé plays Jamcs's heroine
with morc insolence than this fragile talc
can bear, and her affected coquetry scl-
dom if ever stirs sympathy for a girl who
comes to grief not because she's actually
bad but because she's a freespirited filly
ng over the traces of a hypoc

society dominated by snobs and cynics.
Though gorgeous and dressed to kill,
Shepherd is an unconvincing victim who
acts Daisy on one sustained note of pretty
petulance, without shading. She soon be-
comes tiresome, which raises hell with
James's subtle, rueful poruait of ai
‘American innocent abroad. Otherwise,
the movie is faithful to its source, with a
fine, intelligent adaptation by Frederic
Raphael (who wrote Darling) and high-
standard performances by
Eileen Brennan and Cloris Leachman
(always a dandy actress, though woefully
miscast as Daisy's mother, since her in-

tious Mrs. Miller the most
character of all). If you know the book,
Daisy Miller on film will disappoint you.
If you're a stranger to the rather special
world of Henry James, the best Bogda-
novich and Shepherd can offer is a kind
of quickie guided tour in luxury dass,
well planned but superficial.

An Italian mother dies, leaving her
widowed husband and three young
sons—aged 18, 14 and 9—in the care of a
comely maid, whose charms considerably
shorten the household's time of mourn-
ing for Momma. Soon enough, Poppa is
proficring proposals of marriage and
calling in the family priest to talk to the
boys. Poppa hardly suspects that one of
the boys, 14-year-old Nino (played by
Alessandro Momo), even as the priest
launches into a sermon about together:
ness, is quietly groping under the dinner
table to relieve his prospective step-
mother of her panties. So it gocs with
Malizia (that’s simple malice in Sicily),
a drama that scored a smash hit in Italy
and made a маг of Laura Antonelli,
whose performance as the wily governess
is all steam and sizzle under a vencer of
unblemished marble. After Laura, there's
not much else to recommend in Malizia,
though it undoubtedly racks up а few
cogent points about the rampant machis-
то in ninc out of ten Italian males.
Writer-director Salvatore Samperi is a
former assistant and presumably а
disciple of Marco Ferreri, director of
The Grande Bouffe. But Samperi seems
to emulate Ferreri’s savagery without
mastering his gift for ironic satire. What
results is an unpleasant story about ће
unholy nce between а pair of
and boy
whose aimless indiscretions reveal noth-
^g about society in general and even
less about human frailty beyond the
blunt, familiar assertion that Homo sa-
piens is a goddamn treacherous species.

TELEVISION

Once in a great while, advance press
releases indicate that something differ-
cnt, maybe
vision hor
worse when

even daring, is on the tele-
n—which makes it all the
those high hopes are

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PLAYBOY

Introducing MCS.
Male Comfort Spray

for und

For years, men have tried
all sorts of ways to get
comfortable in the
crotch area. Messy
talcums. Baby
powders. Medica-
ted products. But no
thing seemed to rea
work until MCS"
came along. The п
means Male Comfort
Spray, and that gives
you the whole idea.
MCS keeps you more
comfortable around that sensi-
tive area than you probably ever
thought possible.
MCS is a pleasantly cool,
long-lasting pure white aerosol

powder, with a special ingre-
dient that helps stop chafing,
stickiness and irritation.

But that’s not all it does.
MCS also helps to prevent per-
spiration discomfort, the kind
only a man can get.

Nothing is easier to use.

er your shorts.

And because it’s so convenient,
there's virtually no limit to the
times you might want to use it.
For instance, it's great before
you get dressed in the morning.
A quick spray of MCS gets the
day off to a good start.

Or any time you shower or
dress, a couple of cool sprays
of MCS leave you feeling com-
pletely refreshed and at ease
with yourself.

MCS comes ina handy six
ounce size perfect for bath, gym
or uavel. MCS Male Comfort
Spray. It's made just for a man,
to help solve a problem only а
man can have. Get it today, and
get comfortable.

dashed, as has been happening а lot
lately. The Chicago Sun Times's Pulitzer
Prize-winning TV critic, Ron Powers,
reflects on the situation

For a while there—after Watergate
blunted what Walter Cronkite in
Playboy Interview I conducted with him
in June of last year had called “a very
serious assault" on broadcast freedoms—

1 television showed signs of out
growing its lifelong reputation lor fear
and trembling in the face of controversy
Bold social themes—police brutality,
rape, racial inequality. questionable mili-
tary justice—showed up in prime-time
dramas. ABC, traditionally the most tim.
orous of the three major networks,
launched a tough new investigative-jour
sm sc up. CBS’ Dan Rath
as his ornery self at Presidential press
conference:
It didn't last long. TV's old preference
for the noncommittal has alwa
rooted in its survival instinct, and by the
spring of this year, the twin hobgoblins
of Government pressure and fear of
nce disapproval seemed once
more to have weakened TV's stomach
Icological adventure. ABC. as usual
ged the most flagrant display of
tail tucking—although an earlier Fair-
ness Doctrine decision against ап NBC
documentary thr d to do
the most dama
medium's fledgli
sense of chutzpah
Twice this spring, ABC.
publicly
fered in the
content of
two issu
oriented talk
shows under its late
night Wide World of
Entertainment um-
The network
iked from its
schedule a Dick Cavett interview. with
four radicals of the Sixtics—Abbie Hoff
man, Rennie Davis, Jerry Rubin and
Tom Hayden—and allowed it to be aired
(punctuated with judicious bleeps) only
after a chagrined Cavett agreed 10 t
on a "balancing" rebuttal by two co
servative spokesmen, Since Hoffman and

ies, Clos

Drel

friends talked less of sedition than they
did of diets. gurus and the good old days,
ABC's action was panned by TV cities
as ludi

Less than a month Imer, ABC once
more reached for the panic button,
again on apparently specious grounds.
The victim this time was Geraldo Rivera,
the 30-year-old superstar of TV advocacy
journalism, who had somehow persuaded
the network to provide national expo-
sure for his liberal causeishness. The
premiere program in Rivera's twice
monthly Good Night, America series
dealt with marijuana and prostitution—
two topics the young lawyer-journalist
feels strongly about. Though he doe:

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PLAYBOY

advocate the unrestricted sale and use
of grass, Rivera believes that distorted
assumptions about its effects have been
uneriticilly sustained by the broadcast
media. So he journeyed over to Bellevue-
New York University Medical Center,
where, under clinically controlled condi
tions, he was filmed smoking what was
described as a marijuana cigarette

“We had all the film ready seven days
before we were t0 go on the air.”

Rivera later. "Not the day be
the program was scheduled did ABC tell
us the show was not ble. They

greed that my marijuana-smoking seg
ment wasn't illegal- found out late
that the Bellevue people hadn't even
s to smoke. only stuff.
gredient removed —but.
they said that since Mm such a symbol to
young people, it would be a bid gesture.

Over my really severe objection, they
killed it”
Rive fight on his hands

with the prostitution segment. He had
interviewed. a broken-down and embit
tered hooker. certainly no incentive to
join the wade. Then he delivered a
commentary calling for the legalization
and regulation of prostitution to cut
down on venereal disease and violence

“They said that segment was nor accept
able becuse it wasn't balanced" said
Rivera, "because we didn't have a priest
ога cop." Again, and angrily, Rive

ceded to the network's demands. а
а jemvbuili: “rebuual" scgme
opened his next program by
АВС of censorship
“Irs really distress said
who formed his own company to pro-
duce Good Night, America, only to have
ABC insist on sharing production au-
The ABC executives’ point of
Rivera charged, is totally removed
jd journalistic premise
“They live in their own little world out
there in Scarsdale: they worry what their
wives: [riends will say about the show
Rivera planned. subsequent segments
on such topics as the phenomenon of
s murder, profiles of rock stars who
have died of drugs. the rerum to Filties-
style uninvolvement on college cam-
puses, the fale of the lower children
and other youth-oriented themes. "But if
they keep frustrating us, we're not gonna
do it" he warned. "They сап have the
time slot bac
The network caution that so annoys
Rivera and other aggressive TV journal-
ists stems, at least partly. from а new.
hard-line interpretation of the Federal
Communications Commission's. Fairness
Doctrine, which requires that. broadcast-
ers present both sides of con 1
issues; but the FCC has been nonspecific
about when the contrasting side should
be aired
In September 1972, NBC aired а do
mentary, Pensions: The Broken Promise
that detailed methods by which com-

Rivera,

view,
from

roversi:

panics avoided paying pensions. The
documentary won а prestigious Peabody
Award, but it also came under fire from
a conservative watchdog group, Accuracy
in Media. AIM complained to the FCC
that NBC had. the Fairness Doc
trine, because ir didn't portray e
of good pension plans within the
program. To the astonishment of many
observers, the FCC upheld the com
plaint. NBC promptly filed suit in the
U.S. Court of Appeals for the District of
Columbia requesting a reversal of the
FCC decision: but by this spring. whe
vett and Rivera were undergoing
their "balancing" acts, the court had not
ruled. The chilling ellect of the FCC
ruling was, however. clearly showing.

АП too often, it doesn’t even take
threats from the FCC to make the ner
works—ABG, in particulin—chicken ou
nd run from confrontations with the es
tablished order. ABC. recent ye:
has rejected the following properties
All in the Family, whieh becime a CBS
gold mine: The Autobiography of Miss
Jane Pittman, Cicely Tyson's unforgetta-
ble portrait of an exslave i wide
ned when it turned up on CBS;
he Mareus-Nelon Murders, which
to CBS. there to become. the
genesis of the popular. Kojak series, And
it was ABC that squeldied Com
Чу towted portr:
Monroc-like. chiaracie
movie The Sex Symbol—reportedly be-
cause Stevens showed too much al

CBS, for iis part
the derision it incurred
Sticks and Bones—David R:
satire about a blind V
its schedule in the spring of 197:
would have coincided with the
POWs from Vi
subsequently telecast- with. no nai
sponsorship and with massive preemp-
tions by CBS affiliate stations, This fall,
the networks will again таке refuge from
unpleasant topics—this time behind the
veneer of "human-value" entertainment
The Waltons. Meanwhile,
the humans in TV-land. with values of
their own—the Riveras and the Rathers
and the Gavetss—will have to fight for
every second of air time that is more
than hot

savage
n—oll
, when it
rival of
m. The show w

nam veter

series, à la

MUSEUMS

Neva Friedenn, a writer

friend who
moved to Los Angeles four years ago and
promptly became, like so many of her
predecessors, an almost morbid aficio-
nado of Southern California gaucherie,
allows neither earthquake nor mudslide
nor gas shortage nor dark of smog to slay
her self-appointed rounds among the na-
tives in search of folkways and artifacts
10 feed her habit. On a recent safari
through the manicured wilds of Malibu,
she happened by the gate of the J. Paul
Getty Museum, figured she'd unearthed

a veritable King Solomon's Mine of
Panavision pomp, and drove im. Her
disenchanted report follows:

Dear Guys.

The goddamn J. Paul Getty Museum was
just one disappointment after another. 1
regret to report that both the collection
and йз sening are rather superbly well
done, As you approach the place, you get
а few false hopes to the contrary: Pe
ing over the top of what looks like an
L.X-modern-Hralian section of the park-
ing garage is some kind of tiny Roman
dome. and you figure you're about to get
into хопи ities on the order of
San Sime dis
back: The openwork design is :

s you
1 accu
vate throwback to ancient

Rome. First Ceutury
Û кс. to be exact. The

original Villa of the
Papyri was engulfed in
Naming mud from Vesu-

opening act,
y but you don't
see dr here
What you
have instead
is

inspired
irerpretive.
out of histori-
cal. necessity)

reconsiruc-

tion of the

place. You

con look up

at the vari
colored 3-D illusionist decorations on the
wally surrounding the peristyle gardens
and think, “Now, those are a little pl
roomish.” but then you have to catch
yoursell agai
of Pomp
your Latin book or whatever
that architectural historian Dr, Norman
Neuerburg. who advised and assisted
in the reconstruction, is to һе trusted
йа amd solid concepts of

п: what you can remember

nting from travel,

tells you

rble floors: They're
reproductions of thos ient. villas,

somehow complementing the sculpture
that js the emphasis of the Greek and
Roman collections on the main floor. For
ance, the Temple of Herakles fe:
es the Lansdowne sculpture of the
andimbed young hero with lionskin

^ ad the floor ra
les for a

tron, and the floor is inlaid with a design
of curvilincar rectangles to emphasize а

sense of the centers. You get a sort of
chthonic light through translucent onyx
windows there. "That's how re the
п of appropriateness of setting to
object is in Malibu these days.

J. Paul Getty has been collecting for

with our earlier national collecting hab-
its, Henry James used to have it that
wealthy Am s could come home
from h live, whole, uncooked
tow to be set up
ay back in Ameri
be blasted by the ext
ality that rums tl
represented

would
in an hut with
bunch of
r they were
. Here's the dif
ty does have a Crouching
n point of fact, he has four
rious sizes and states of com-

pleteness, i lated originals and cop-
ics from a couple of eras and places. And
these are displayed in orderly proximity

to one апо the Lady of Love
just as under n that position as
she is where she poses as the Mazarin
Venus full-figure (partially restored),
gorgeous across the room with her dol-
phin companion.

Local press now credits Getty with the
best classical collection west of New York
and Boston. To see if the judgment is de-
served, you can check out the Cottenham
relief with its youth restraining a horse
rearing in that pure frozen violence up
from the archaic period; mosaics of hunt-
ers and wild animals with dark, Disney-
like outlines but nearly photograph
shadings so that you get a lot of ferocity
out of those tiny little stones from the
farther reaches of the Roman Empire,
First Century лр; the Room of Colored
Marbles, a knockout no less for its v
Is than for its highly individ
istic Roman portrait sculptures.

So you're frustrated again and а
by the careful execution of the pla

EB
and of
Ы ori;

[em that you've caught an ex
touch, To the hardened Angel
for just a moment, the cla
arbor looks Hollywood Boul
tal. But for just a moment. By the
you're on the second floor and tapa
off on the few re ng antiq
which segue you gently into early Cl
tian paintings, you have to give up the
search for the gross and anachronistic.
e days nothing seems to go right.

PEOPLE ALWAYS ASK how far Jack Daniel's

cave spring goes back. The answer is way back.

We don't rightly know how deep into the
Tennessee hills our limestone spring meanders.
But since several adventuresome citizens have
tried to explore it, we know it goes farther
than a man can. We also know it flows at 56°
year-round, is totally
iron-free and superb for

whiskey-making. True, CHARCOAL
we can’t say where this ои
pure water starts out. - DRAR
But we're plenty glad it

ends up in Jack Daniel's BY DROP

Whiskey.

Tennessee Whiskey - 90 Proof - Distilled and Bottled by Jack Daniel Distillery
Lem Motlow, Prop., Inc., Lynchburg (Pop. 361), Tennessee

The first Distillery placed in the National Register
of Historic Places by the United States Government. 31

PLAYBOY

Toyota Corolla 1600.

Passenger assist grip.
Tinted glass =

4-speed transmission

Inside hood release

Deluxe wheel covers ^

What's all this stuff? Heavens, no. At no extra cost.
Fancy extras that cost What you see is what Because all these nice
a fancy price? you get on the Corolla 1600. things are standard.

Fully endowed.

Front reclining bucket seats

Rear window defogger

ve "Vinyl interior

\ Loop pile carpeting
Steel reinforced doors
Whitewall tires
So you see, you don’t Get yourself a penny- It’s fully endowed except
have to pay a high price for pinching, gas-squeezing for one little thing.
a car with high standards. Toyota Corolla 1600. Its underdeveloped price.

See how much car your money can buy.

TOYOTA

Small car specialists for 40 years.

PLAYBOY

Why do you

smoke?

With what you've been hearing about smoking these days, you probably

wonder sometimes why you smoke at all.

Yet you enjoy it.

Because smoking a cigarette can be one of those rare and pleasurable
private moments.

And the chancesare you don’t want to give up any of that.

Which brings us to Vantage.

Vantage is the cigarette for people who don't entertain the idea of giving
up cigarettes because they find cigarettes too entertaining.

Vantage is the cigarette for people who have come to realize that most
cigarettes that give them the flavor they want also give them a lot of the ‘tar’
and the nicotine that they may not want. =

Vantage is the cigarette for people who ve VANTAGE
found that most low ‘tar’ cigarettes don t give them [ИИ TT |
anything at ай. M ч \

The thing that makes Vantage special is that |

its filter is based on a new design concept that gives
smokers the flavor of a full-flavor cigarette without muni
anywhere near the ‘tar’ and nicotine. oe Д VANTAGE

Now we don't want to suggest “Ят د‎
that Vantage is the lowest таг and in»
nicotine cigarette you'll find.

It isnt.

But it sure is the lowest one that
will give you enjoyment.

And that’s why you smoke. Right? ©

ome
tar
0.975.

That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. Filter: 11 mg. "tar", 0.8 mg. nicotine, Menthol: 11 mg. "ta",

E The Surgeon General Has Determined |
0.9 mg. nicotine, av. per cigarette, FIC Report MAR. 74.

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR

L have an

puiguing problem: I'm a
acher in the midst of an
r with one of my ex-students, He is
21. We have had a spectacular sexual and
emotional relationship for over a year. I
am bothered by only one thing—the fear
that he is attracted to me out of a desire
10 seduce his teacher. that T am just a
means of satisfying an age-old fantasy. 1
am really geuing involved with him and
I would Tike some assurance that the
ground we stand on is solid. What do you
hinki— D. F., Phoenix, Arizona
Relax. H he were in it for the fantasy,
your affair probably would have ended
after the first few nights. When he be-
came your ex-student, you became his ex-
teacher. Take it and each other [rom
there.

Berco bulls are а bummer. One of my
friends daims that it takes 24 hours for
the grooves of a record 10 recover from
the fiction generated by a single play-
s. More frequent use apparently ob-
literes the highs—the vinyl becomes
brittle ar s Even i
right. I'm. nor sure ГИ follow
The only high Fm interes
rush you get playing a n
24 hours a day for three weeks. Still, Vd
like to what he's talking about.—
А. K.. Brooklyn. New Yor

There's some truth in what your friend
says. but not enough to leave you sitting
in front of your stereo with a 34-hour v;
Records of polyvinyl
chloride that has been treated with special
modifiers 10 ensure permanent flexibility.
Record grooves yield slightly to the force
of a passing stylus, then recover slowly.
(The amount of time varies [rom disc to
disc.) You may notice some distortion if

limer ave made

you play the record several times in a
vow, but the condilion is temporary. A
short rest will veturn the sound to normal.
The idea that a stylus could. shave the
highs off a record stems from the days
when people would tape a stack of
pennies 10 the top of the tonearm to
“improve” tracking force. Under
conditions, the turntable became a minia-
ture lathe. Today, sets are light-[ooted
and safe. So play it again and again, Xam.

Mer a yearlong rela

decided. she
€ to re

those

ionship, my gir
needed to add to her ex-
peric lly get to know herself
and so we broke up. After dating sev-
eral other girls. I realize I love her and
want to marry her some day. We're s
dose, but I've refrai i
her to

te her completely. We've been sep-
arated three months now. Do you think
this has been а long enough time for her
to experiment or would it be better to
just leave her alone for a whi LB.
Akron, Ohio.

You said your girl wanted experience
and that's difficult to measure in terms
of lime. Let your relationship remain а
casual one until she lets you know other
wise. Keep dating others, as the chances
of your getting together again are small
until and unless she's able to satisfy her
desire 10 broaden her field of experience
before once again limiting il to one
person, Unless you want to force the
issue against all odds, you
should let things stay as they are for now.

reasonable

t is a popcorn surprise? I heard а
folk singer do a parody of late Fifties
rock songs called Front Row Frenzy. 1
hered from the lyrics ("Popcorn sur-
prise /opened her eyes”) that it had some-
thing 10 do with porno movies, but I'm
not sure. Tru 1. S. Portland, Oregon.

In the beginning was the folded news-
paper andor the derby hat, Placed in
the lap, they concealed masturbatory ac-
tion in adult movichouses. (We heard of
a dude who—in a classic display of one-
upmanship—used a top hat instead of a
derby.) Raincoats with slit pockets en-
joved the dark light of fashion for a
while, but the emergence of mixed audi-
ences. precipitated the tactic called pop-
corn surprise. The male camouflages his
етесіїоп in of popcorn
(having first eut a hole in the bottom),
then invites his partner to help herselj—
the phrase
theater near you.”

a container

hence “coming soon in a

ing seen more than one guitar come
трон luggage-convevor helt look-
like а convention of toothpicks, 1 am
rather paranoid about flying with my 19-
string. ГЇ let a ticket agent check my
instrument if they let me fly the plane,
ht? Occasionally. I've been allowed to
carry the guitar on board, but more fre-
quently, a rade and unsympathetic ticket
agent will tell me that the only thing I
do is shell out half fare to reserve
seat for the instrument. That strikes me
an expensive form of extortion—"You've

seen what we can do: how much is it
worth to avoid having it happen to
you?" How can 1 protect my guitar with-

ош pay
Connect

Fost, both you and the airline have to
comply with the FAA regulation stating
that each article of luggage. carried. on
board by a passenger must be “stowed in

Wg protection?—M. P.,
ut.

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PLAYBOY

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a suitable baggage or cargo storage com-
partment, or under a passenger's seat.”
This practice ensures that the item won't
become an unguided missile should the
plane encounter turbulence. A guitar
will not fit under a seat, but there are
places on most airplanes where an instru-
ment can be secured in compliance with
the FAA regulation (behind the last row
of seats, jor example). So always try to
сату your guilar at least as far as the
gate. The Federal law states that crew
members have the final say about accept-
ing baggage; if а ticket agent gives you
trouble, ask to speak to a cabin attendant
on your flight. He or she will tell you if
there is room on board. The half-fare rou-
tine you mention was devised so that
concert cellists and double-bass players
could safely transport. their. instruments.
The tarif] (the contract between the car
rier and the passenger) gives no specific
instructions Jor guitars. We feel, as you
do, that there should be a free space-avail.
able policy; i.e., if the flight weren't full,
you could strap the guitar into a spare
seat, Until that happens, these are your
options: Never allow your guitar to be
placed on a conveyor belt. (These devices
¢ destroyed more axes than Peter
nsheud of The Who.) Whenever pos-
sible, fly airlines that have an official es-
cort service—an attendant will hand-carry

fragile luggage from the gate to the cargo
hold. Loosen the stings of your guitar
before you leave the ground. They will
contract in the cold at high altitudes;
the increase in tension can cause a guitar
to self-destruct. (Also, if the guitar is
dropped, tight strings will turn a crack
into a canyon.) Check the limits of lia-
bility and, if necessary, lake out more
insurance. Pray. If you have a complaint,
write to the Civil Aeronautics Board,
Washington, D.C. 20428. They're the
Jolks who keep the airlines in line.

ious reasons, primarily finan-
1 recently separated from my hus
band of seven years and went back to
live with my parents, taking our two
children with me. My husband now
daims he can support us and would
like us back.
however, he
would like m
her as part of the fa
is quite willing to coexist with me and
the children. | am somewhat doubtful
about the situation—to say the le:
wonder if you know of simi
Mrs. P. J., San Francisco, Са
Our observation is that such uncon-

the separation

ventional arrangements succeed only
under the best of circumstances. You
may be considering it simply as a means
of maintaining your marriage, а com-
promise that does nol promise success.
We don’t know what your alternatives

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THE
WOMEN.
THE
MEN.
THE
WORLD.

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are, but we suggest you examine them
carefully and select the onc. that offers
you and the children the best chance
Jor stability and personal happiness.
You may find that where four would be
company, five could be far too much
of a crowd.

ММ... ihis “ice thing” the guys at the
shop keep talking about?—M. F., Nash-
ville, Tennessee.

John Eichenlaub mentioned the tech-
nique 13 years ago in “The Marriage
Art": Jamming a handful of crushed ice
into your partner's croich just prior to
orgasm was supposed to heighten the cx-
perience. Getting one's rocks off on the
rocks didn’t seem to catch on—most
Americans preferred their sex neat. Also,
there was the problem of timing; om
critic suggested that “prior to orgasm”
covered most of his marriage and he
wasn't about to encourage snowball fight-
ing in bed. However, Alex Comfort says
in “Joy of Scx" that with the “increased
availability [of ice] we keep hearing of
people who use it for ils shock effect on
the skin.” (Don't be puzzled by that bit
about increased availability. The Eng-
lish, who stumbled onto sex by accident
in the early Thirties, have just discovered
refrigerators.) If you're interested, check
into a hotel, ring room service and order
a bucket of champagne—without the
champagne. Cubed, crushed or shaved,
the iceman cometh.

Clan you tell me how hashish is made?
I've heard that the psychoactive resin is
scraped from leather garments worn by
sants who run through fields of mari.
а plants, Another story has the peas-
unning naked through the same
fields.—S. B., Daleville, Alabama.

According to our nonresident drug ex-
pert (even when he’s here, we're not sure
he's here), hashish is made from the
resin of the Cannabis plant. Modern tech-
niques have replaced the exotic tactics
you've heard about. Workers harvest the
flowering tops and squeeze them between
layers of cheesecloth. The vesin that fillers
out is formed into balls or sheets of hash
(also called charas). The fibrous material
that is left in the press is exported to the
United States, where people who don't
know better buy it, thinking they ave
getting the real thing. Indeed, native
Nepalese would not recognize what is sold
here as hash, perhaps because they've
smoked so much of the local product
that they have difficulty recognizing
anything.

After four months of living together,
my fiancée admitted that she does not
reach orgasm with me during cunnilingus
or intercourse. She indicates that my
technique is not refined enough for her.
She is much more knowledgeable than 1

am—having had a very involved educ;
tion with what I would call sup
cated males. She says that she
ted inexperienced to protect my
Well, the resulting anxiety ou my part ha
produced further frustration, and things
arc at a standstill. I satisfied my previous
lovers, why not h t should we
d.

toon in which the canary waits until the
cal is ten fect off the cliff before pointing
out his predicament. By that time, the fall
is unavoidable. Some women are under
greal pressure to achieve orgasm, Your
fiancée’s embarrassment at her. difficulty
may have caused her reluctance to discuss
the matter with you. It is possible that she
has invented the story of her other lovers
to protect her ego. 1] а woman knows
better and does not tell what she knows,
she deserves what she gets. There arc
5 to convey sexual preferences
and make suggestions without disclosing
past history. Ask your fiancée to adopt a
nonverbal version of the golden rule: “Do
onto me as you would have me do onto
you." Roughly translated, this means
scratch my back and РИ scratch yours. It
may be a long climb, bul you should be
able to make it up.

many wa

Н.а 11-inch penis can be a prob-
ever 1 get to the point where
possible with a girl, she usually
es one look at my dub and refuses to
ight, 1 met a girl at a

. everything went well uni
clothes. She fr ad said
something like: “You could cripple some-
one with tl She balked at intercourse
and, instead. performed fellatio, which
was less satisfying. I haven't had coitus
three months and things are get-
g bad. Any suggestions—T. K., Des
Moines, Iowa.

Wear dark, solid-color suits. Never mix
stripes with. plaids. Make sure your socks
match your trousers and keep your shoes
shined. Turn out the light before you
take off your clothes, then go gently into
that good night. By the time she notices
anything different (if she notices any-
thing beyond her own pleasure), you
will have hidden or disposed of most of
the evidence.

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

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THE PLAYBOY FORUM

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

IMMACULATE CONTRACEPTION

or Richard 5. Schweiker of Penn-
has denounced the use of U.
d funds to circulate а Spanish-
birth-control comic book in
The cover bears the c
“Little Virgin, you who conceived with-

ng, help me to sin without co

The senator called this
teful use of U.S.
Well, maybe. 1 think
day and age it is distasteful for a
ponsored publication to describe
s sinning.

Donald Dean
Phoei Ariza

GREAT LEGAL MINDS

A bill to relax restrictions on the sale
of contraceptives came up for debate i
the Minnesota state senate. Herc are some
of the highlights of the serious and sober
discussion that ensued, according to the
5t. Paul Dispatch:

nator Edward Novak said thai
bill passed, the Rus
moral than Americans.
rome Hughes was “shocked”
that the bill had been introduced at all.
Senator Florian Chmielewski warned
sage of the bill would increase
у. promiscuity and rape (pr

a worried about

contraception). Senator Chmielewski, in-
is currently sponsoring a bill
al punishment.
ply distressing to fnd such
mentalities among the men who write
the supposedly progres-
еми

f the
s would be more

James Larson
St. Paul, Minnesota

COEDS, BEDS AND REDS

The Tennessee house of representa-
tives has passed a bill that would take
e charters away from any colleges
nd universities that permit male and fe-
male students to live in the same dormi-
tory. It also provides for a $1000 fine
ad two months in jail for any school of-
ficial who permits coed dorms. The bill
could cost the University of Tennessee
up to $1,000,000 for redesigning and
remodeliug dormitorics.

One representative who opposed the
bill called it "the most ridiculous piece
of legislation" he had seen in six years
in the general assembly.
“This is not a bad bil
bill" The sponsor of the legis 4

M Hopper, said it was aimed at
Stopping "the immoral and un Christian
ааз” on campuses. An even more pre-

cious statement was reported by The
Nashville Tennessean: “James C. Pickett
of Nashville, one of a number of people
actively working for the bill, said, how.
ever, hat the coed dorms wi
result of a Communist
American higher education.
О. B. Walton IL
Nashville, Tennessee
The Dill was actually passed by both
houses of the Tennessee legislature, but
Governor Winfield Dunn had the good
taste ti "lo il.

RETURN OF THE FETUS PEOPLE

The fetus people never rest:
fire and flood could not stop
stein's monster, even a Supreme Court
decision can't stop Ше anti-abort
zealots. In Boston, five doctors
der indictment in connection with
legal abortions. One of them is charged
with manslaughter. Even though the
abortion itself was legal, the fetus, it is
alleged, was old enough to be viable and
its death is therefore manslaughter ac-
cording to the disuict attorney. The
four other doctors were indicted for tech-
nical violations of an 1814 law against
grave robbing. They are charged with il-
legally dissecting legally aborted fetuses.
The law has never been applied in this
way before.

The fetal experiments, using dead
aborted fetuses, that are interdicted by
these cas lard medical-research
procedure in no way from the

i avers. Fetal tissue studies
for instance, in developing

were used.
the anti-polio vaccine. Two Harvard
rchers won a Nobel Prize in 1954

that would have been
s office had cooked up.
that interpretation of the law back then.
How many polio victims we would
had every year since then is anybody's
guess; but the fetus fanatics have never
ed as much about the born as they do
bout the unborn,

Stephen Gould
Boston, Massa

huscus

FAIR PLAY FOR FETUSES
When future generations look back on
our society, they will surely comment on
our barbaric treatment of the unborn.
The hundreds of thousands of legal
abortions performed every усаг will no

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PLAYBOY

doubt be compared to other largescale
atrocities such as the buying and selling
of human beings by slave traders or Hit-
ler's attempt to ext te European
Jewry. Why is it that our society mu:
victimize unborn beings, the most inno-
cent of all?

Glen Winkler
Lang, Saskatchewan
Perhaps future generations will find
something atrocious in our society's trea
ment, prior to the legalizing of abortion,
of unwillingly pregnant women.

SEX SELECTION THROUGH ABORTION
The May Playboy Advisor's advice to
R. N, who wishes to sire a son, is only
to usc artificial in tion with con
centrated Y sperm,
not complete, Amniocentesis, а proc
dure by which a small amount o am-
niotic fluid is removed from a pregn
woman, allows a determination of the
sex of the fetus with at least 99 percent
curacy. If the fetus is not of the
ed sex, it can be aborted and another
pregnancy attempted, and so on. theoret-
ically at least, until the desired sex is
hieved.
1 do not advocate this procedure be-
cause, like all interventions in the work
nd the abortion en-
sks. A survey by Di
j rinceton University
shows that 95 percent of the physicians
surveyed oppose such use of amuiocen-
tesis, but five percent would do it. People
have the right to know that the proce-
dure is available and, if they are willing
to accept the risk, to proceed. While my
studies project a surplus of boys, T pre-
dict it will be too small to cause serious
societal dislocations. Hence 1h

answer is thus

Etzion
Professor of Soi

Professor Etzionřs published books
include “Modern Organizations,” “The
Active Society,” “The Baby Engineers”
and “Genetic Fix,” which has been nomi
nated for a 1974 National Book Award.
He is the father of four sons, and amnio
centesis reveals that a fifth child, expected
this year, will also be a boy.

BLACKOUT BABIES

The May Forum Newsfront reports
that because television h: n goir
off thi sh gov-
ета s will
lead to a baby boom to т
which occured in New York nine
months after the Northeastern U.S. w
blacked out by a massive power failure
1965." The story about the New York
City blackout baby boom is, pardon the
expression, а mi The false
notion was lost New York
Times article of August 10, 1966, that
announced, “Births Up Nine Months

lier bedi

FORUM NEWSFRONT

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

OCCUPATIONAL HAZARD
ATHENS—The highest court in Greece
has ruled that a sailor who died oj a
heart attach in a brothel was the victim
of a service-connected “professional acci-
dent” and that his family therefore may
collect a government pension. The court
held that such accidents can occur “in
the preparatory period prior to the

commencement of work, or after its con-
clusion, and always according to ihe
peculiarities of the profession, Under
this interpretation and specifically refer-
ring lo the naval profession, it is unde:
stood that this work requires long
periods of separation of a seaman from
his wife and family, and the need for his
recreation in areas he feels deprived.”

WORKINGWOMAN'S COMPENSATION

MUNICI—4 German court has ordered
a mugger to pay $1100 to a prostitute he
beat up during a robbery attempt. The
court based the judgment on a sociologi-
cal study that set the average daily in-
come of Munich prostitutes at $110
and on the testimony of the victim that
she was unable to work for ten days after
the attack.

BUT THERE'S ONE SMALL CATCH
LEYLAND, ENGLAND—An elderly dentis
who died last November left $132,000 to
his 47-year-old secretary. The conditions
of the bequest were revealed recently
when the will was officially published:
For five years, the woman must “never
use any lipstick or any other make-up of
any kind whatsoever—apart from clear
nail varnish—and wear no jewelry such
as rings, earrings, necklaces, and. never
go oul with men on her cwn, or with a

party of тет..."

THREAT TO COMMUNES
WASHINGTON, DEA U.S. Supreme

Court ruling apparently gives residential

communities the authority to prohibit

communes and communal living by
means of zoning laws. The Court upheld
the zoning ordinance of a Long Island
village that allows only onc-family dwell-
ings and forbids their occupancy by more
than two people not related by blood or
marriage. The ruling overturned two
lower-court decisions that had held that
six college students were within their
constitutional rights of privacy and frei
dom of association to lease a six-bedroom
house in а small community in Suffolk
County.

GRANDPA'S CRIMINAL RECORD

CONCORD, NEW HAMPSHIRE—A У3-усат-
old husband who has seven children and
three grandchildren has petitioned the
governor of New Hampshire to exoner-
ate him of a statutoryyape charge filed
against him in 1919. The 15-year-old girl
with whom he was arrested was his fian-
сёе at the time. His petition explains
that the rape charge is the only blot on
his record and is embarrassing to reveal
on questionnaires and employment ap-
plications, especially when he and the al.
leged rape victim have been married for
25 years,

THE GAY DECEIVER

pattas—An Army private who wan-
gled himself a discharge by falsely claim-
ing lo be a homosexual sued for
restoration of grade with full back pay,
consideration for promotion and an
honorable discharge. He had changed
his mind about feigning homosexuality
when his discharge as an “undesirable”
made problems for him in civilian life,
and his suit charged that the Army was
negligent in failing to thoroughly inves-
tigate his case and thwart his intent to
escape the Service. The U.S. Supreme
Court has refused to review the decision
of the Texas court of claims, which re-
jected his suit as an “outstanding exam
ple of chutzpah.”

CLEARING THE RECORD

m nc—The cout of ap
peals for the District of Columbia has
ruled that the FBI must expunge a per-
son's arrest record from its criminal files
if he has been released without charges.
Deciding in a California case supported
by the A.C.L.U. and the Playboy Foun
dation, the court held that an arrest
record must be destroyed “when the FBI
ts apprised that a person has been exon-
erated after initial arrest, released with-
out charge and a change of record [is
made] to ‘detention only. " The FBI can
still keep ihe arrested person's finger-
prints “in its neutral noncriminal files,

provided there is no reference of any
kind to indicate that the prints originat-
ed in а source [or criminal files.”

PAYING OFF A DEBT

TALLAHASSEE rLoRIDA—T he Florida
house of representatives has approved
$200,000 in compensation [or a retarded
man held in а mental hospital 14 years
Jor а таре he did not commit. A grand
jury noted that he was a white man,
whereas the rape victim said her attacker
was black. The attorney who handled the
case for five years without [ee said he had
turned up evidence that the crime was
committed by a man wha was executed
for another таре in 1959.

MARRIAGE AND MARIJUA

Marijuana has figured in the marital
problems of two police officers:

In Memphis, a city policeman has prob-
ably ensured that his separation from
his wife will be permanent by arresting
her for possession of marijuana after
he paid her a visit and found pot in her
purse. In Chicago, a. policeman charged
with possessing marijuana and heroin
has been freed after his wife admitted in
cout that she found the drugs in the
basement of their apartment bnilding,
planted them in her husband's. jacket
pocket after a family fight and then
Upped off police to look in his locker.

GRASS BURNER
CARSON, CALIFORNIA—Stale police have
charged a 32-year-old Long Reach man
with possessing marijuana, which a high-
way patrolman discovered when he

stopped the defendant's car on the San

Diego Freeway because it was emitting
clouds of smoke, The smoke was coming
from fme kilos of grass in brick form that
had been unwisely hidden next to the
car's exhaust manifold.

HORS D'OEUVRE EFFECT

LEXINGTON, KENTUCKY— Alcoholics tend
to topple off the wagon when confronted
by a certain combination oj external and.
internal stimuli, according to a University
of Kentucky study conducted at the 1
an's Administration Hospital in Lexing
ton. Dy Arnold M. Ludwig, a Lexington
psychiatrist, believes the process works
like this: Because of prior conditioning,
exposure to a drinking envivonment, such
asa bar or a party, triggers physical with-
diawal symptoms (increased heartbeat,

respiration and nervousness), which the
individual knows cau be alleviated by

taking a drink; then the first drink has an
“hors d'ocuvre effect” of whetting the de-
sire for more booze. In an interview, Dr
Ludwig said that standard treatments fail
to take into account these neurophysio-
logical responses to external and internal
stimuli working in tandem. He suggests
it may be possible to desensitize alcohol-
ics to the external stimuli by controlled
exposure to drinking environments.

HOT MOVIES

nÁotLtywoop— Three Los Angeles Coun-
ty Sheriff's deputies have been ordered lo
pay an adult-film company $60,000 be-
cause they burned 4000 movie rcels, prints

and negatives that were never ruled to

be obscene. The films were seized in a
pornography raid in 1972, but a munici-
pal cout judge later dismissed charges,
the district attorney halted prosecution
and when the company tried to recover the
films, it found they had been destroyed.

PORN LAW VOIDED

nOSTON—AÀ1 least until the Massachu-
sells legislature enacts new laws, nothing
can be banned in Boston—or anywhere
else in the state. The state supreme court
has struck down Massachusetts" 200-year-
old obscenity statutes, voting four to
three in three separate cases that the laws
“vague and archaic’ and therefore
unconstitutional.

were

NE CALLED, PIPER PAID
‹зислсо——4 former nightclub owner
has been awarded $111,000 in damages
[тот a suburban community president
who ordered him to discontinue a belly.
dancing show. The plaintif] said that
when the dancing stopped his business
dropped from $1000 to $30 а day.

ATTACK BY TAPE

VENTURA, CALIVORNIA—A Ventura man
with a history of coronary trouble has
filed a $35,000 damage suit after receiv-
ing a tape recording of his ex-wife hav-
ing sexual intercourse with another man.
The suit alleges that his former wife sent
him the tape with the intent of causing
him to have a heart attack and that,
upon hearing il, he did in fact suffer
shock, anguish, chest pains and shortness
of breath. Both the woman and her sex
partner have been named as defendants.

J. Richard Udry
pointed out in le in Demography
that the Times story was based on data
fro 1 number of hospitals. Udry
checked the total number of births in
New York for the seven weeks during
which 90 percent of the babies conceived
on November 10, 1965, the date of the
blackout, would have been born. He
found no signi increase in the
number of bi t time, as
compared with the same period in the
preceding live years.

Why the myth? Udry suggested, "It is
evidently pleasing to many people to
antasy that when people are trapped by
some immobilizing event which deprives
them of their usual activities, most will
turn to copulation,

Andrew J. Leighton
New York, New York

CALIFORNICATING OREGON

T was born and raised in Medford,
Oregon. Im a real hick. "Don't Cali-
fornicate Oregon" is a popular slogan
around here Беса id our
beautiful state, with its mountains cov-
cred with evergreens and full of wildlife
nd is crystal-clear and streams
alive with trout
come an instant

The new Oregon pot law, which
н ounce or less of
the Killer weed a misdemeanor instead of
а felony, is a good law. But since it was
passed, every freak west of the Pecos and
north of T has moved in on us.
Nothing against freaks, you know: I hap-
pen to be somewhat freaky myself. Bi
this is a bum trip because many of these
"migrants don't really appreciate the
1 beauty of our state. 105 just a
better place to smoke dope.

If Californians don't
let them try changi
e place to v
wouldn't like 10
knock over your р;
under your house
deer cat all those little m
in the back yard.

makes possession of

€ their state,
it Oregon is a
it, but they really
live here. Raccoons
age can, skunks get
and, worst of all, the
ijuana plants

Mike Pryor
Jacksonville. Oregon

WHO'S TO BLAME?

The fuel shortage—better known by
that awful jour cliché, “the er
crunch"—scems to have cased. There
the questions of how it hap
xd how similar crises can be pre
ihe future. For almost two
ate and public study groups
had been producing reports warning that
this country’s energy needs would soon
exceed available sources. Industry, Gov.
ernment and the people all ignored the
gs. Meanwhile, the oilimport
quota system kept the amount of oil from
overseas coming into this country down
to a percentage of domestic production.
А Cabinet task force warned in 1970 that

rem:
pened

warn

PLAYBOY

the quota system should be done away
with in order to increase the U. S. supply
but President Nixon did not elim-
3. Thus, the Arabs have
never supplied more than a small per-
centage of U.S. oil needs. Meanwhile,
U.S. oil companies did not build the
necessary refining and chemical plants
to meet increasing domestic requi
ments, investing instead in building
ities in other countries.

The oil industry blames environmen-
alist efforts such as the campaign ag,
the Alaskan pipeline and the National
Environmental Policy Act of 1969 for
restricting oil supplies. Naturally, oi
companies would prefer to operate with-
vut ecological controls. But they got thc
best of both situation ding the ex-
pense of complying with environmen
controls before the shortage and making
g the shorag
г shortsighted approach
greater Government regul
their operations. What we need is a n
tonal oil policy requiring the industry
necessary domestic

. avi

for

jes while

g fa

"dards. And public consump!
oil must be limited to prudent
But the attitudes of all Administra
Democratic and Republican i
been more
trys wants
and longr:
very popul:
men or politicians.
the Ате
mitted, “We're à
have never had
energy uses. We
t and when
there being some
really listened.
Tony Kwan

San Francisco, California

nge views have never be

n business-
s the president of
roleum Institute ad-
I at Gilt in that we
any concern about our
been very extrava-
people talked about

limitation, no on

r among Ame

THE NIXON STAMP

It is a certainty that, one way or
other, Richard M. Nixon will eventually
become am ex-President of the United
States. Thereafter, the Postal Service will
inevitably issue a honor.
In order to save the Government ti
and money, 1 herewith propose
for the Richard M. Nixon comment
tive si

Instead of а common rectangular
stamp. this one will be of a devious
shape, in the denomination of two bits,
with Nixons portrait in a two-faced
pose. As for the color, let me make it per-
fectly dear. In place of the usual perlo-
rations, this issue will be surrounded by
18 minute gaps. And, instead of being
allixed to an envelope with glue, the
stamp will be attached with tapes.

Alter it has been used (the Postal Serv-
ice will not cancel it but will merely
render it inoperative), philatelists may
have difficulty in remov from the

tapes can't
mps are often
aly would not

used as currency, 1 cer
usc these to buy a used car.

The usual бузбау cover will be re-
placed by a first-day undercover and, in-
stead of being printed with a watermark,
it will have a.

Harvey A. Berg
Flush ew York

BIBLE BELT OR NOOSE?

Charlie Reynolds. a religion professor
at the Universi see at Knox-
convicted of violating a
ute that prohibits anyone from

tT
ace” was a student
demonstration protesting the
of President Nixon at that session.
Reynolds took the case all the way up
to the U. S. Supreme Court on the ground
that the crusade meeting in question was
ious service but a political
[ver listening to tapes of Gi
introduction of the President
Nixon's address, filled with pl.
about our country and his Ad

rance

theologians testified that the
could, indeed, be more appropriately de-
fined as a political one. Last January, the
Supreme Court announced its refusal to
hear Reynolds’ appa

Reynolds (and supporters of his defense
fund) spent several thousand dollars to
appeal a conviction that resulted in only
а S20 fine partly becuse the st
n question has also been used to keep
blacks out of white churches. The expense
of the appeal constituted a decided 1
ship for him. Nevertheless, he wok
ır as he could. Unlike Richard N
Billy Graham, the state of Tennessee
nd —it seems—the U. 5, Supreme Court,
nolds still believes in the
al principle of separation of
church and state,

Ben Edward Akerley
Newark, New Jersey

TOWN ON TRIAL
In 1973. a young man named G:
Wardrip was found guilty of fag dese:
eration in Hartford City, Indiana, Dbe-
which he'd
ed as а bonus for buying U.S. sav
ings bonds, as a с a his trailer
home. The judge sentenced Wardrip 10
stand outside the city hall for three how
displaying the flag. On a wintry Saturday,
Wardrip served one hour of the medieval
sentence. He was so harassed by the crowd
ed that he was moved indoors
for his own safety (The Playboy Forum,
June 1973).

One of the few townspeople who wit-
nessed the spectacle without amusement
was 88-year-old circuit court judge Or-
e Pursley. Pursey

appeal his conviction to the circuit court
and to seek legal assistance from thc
Indiana Civil Liberties U and the
LC.L.U. agreed to take the case. The ap-
peal trial was held before a special
judge; Pursley ruled himself off the case
because of his rdrip's
behalf. The Blackford County
circuit was jammed with
newspapermen, w reporters,
television local audi

small
courtroon

vice

and
ence overwhelmingly hostile to Wardrip

crews

American Legionnaires m
the buildi
| LELU. counsel Ron Elberger
made a shambles of the state's case, which
revolved around the alleged abuse that
the flag had suffered in the пайт. Wil-
the officer rge of the
testified the flag
n rod by means
of holes punched along the top. How-
ever, Grover hadn't confiscated the flag
and couldi't produce it as evidence. Iron-
ically, the huge 12-by-18-foot. courtroom
flag suspended above the bench was
nailed t0 the wall. Defense attorney El-
berger produced Wardrip’s flag. The
pinholes along its top, by which it sup-
posedly had been hung, were invisible to
the gallery, and Grover swore it was not
the sume banner that had been defiled
Angry and frustr:
direction the case takin

led outside

the
Hartford City spectators broke i

was

pplause when Grover hotly told Fiber-
ger he had “not expected the case to get
blown out of proportion like it ha

Finally the judge, a World War Two
veteran who saw action on Okinawa.
ruled tha Wardrip had shown no intent
to desecrate the fla t that using
a йар for a curi very good w:
to express patriotic feelings, but 1 would
not be justified in finding this man guilty
of public desecration,” the judge told the
stonily silent gallery.

The crowd filed ош and watched
from a distance as reporters sw
ound Wardrip. "Yeah, we lost,
middle-aged woman said.
the son of a bitch has moved out of
Hartlord City. Now theyll go"—she
pointed at the reporters—“and
welll get our town back.

SIMPLE SOLUTION

Licutenant Gul H. N in his
pitch gun merchants, writes,
Before the N Rifle Association
revokes my membership . . ." (The
Playboy Forum, May). Revoke? If he
"t received a letter from them thank-
him for singing their words and

i e Forum, he ought to. He
tempt to solve the violent-
¢ problem in this country by con-
ng or otherwise trying
rms is doomed to fail-
is the basic thesis of the
М.В. lobbying effort. Listen to this

tion

musi

buttery bullshit with which Inglin con
To the teenage punk, a gun
" through

a thousand press

а and the Bolshe
docs, he insists
who will benefit

legal

10 ser up an impossible-
toadminister program for obtaining a
gun. Divide the population into those
who can safely be permitted to own guns
and those who can't. This is a task so dil-
ficult and complex that no branch of
government. from ıo Feda
level, would undertake it in a million
усш». Yet this is the only proposal ac-
ceptable to Inglin. He ignores a

solution

honparolable Federal offense
any crime ed with a
ndgun a teny olable Fed-
eral offense. Let the only exception to
these laws be possession of a permit lor
the gun issued by a law-enforcement
agency.

А. A. Huffstuuer
St. Louis, Missouri

GOD AND SCOUTING
As а former boy scout, I was deeply
ollended by the attitude of Portland,
Maine, scouting officials in disqualifying
a youth from cubscout membership be-
cause he expressed a disbelie їп God
(Forum. Newsfront, April). I have writ-
ten to the national headquarters of The
Boy Scouts of America calling for the
reinstatement of the bey and returning
my eaglescout medal, which 1 earned
without realizing what the Maine scout
officials called an “obligation to God."
Wally Knight
Evergreen, Colorado

THE SHOCKING DR. SHOCKLEY
The Heuer in the April Playboy Forum
about Dr. William B. Shockle
olfensive racial views and how even his
freedom of speech should be protecied
reminds me of something Woodrow Wil
son once said: “I have always been
among those who believed that the g
est freedom of speech was the greatest
safety, because if a man is a fool the best
thing to do is to encourage him to adver-
tise the fact by speaking.
M. L. Hayes
Missoula, Montana

and his

Dr. Shockley has no more right to pub-
lidy express his ideas than did that
great philosopher Adolf Hitler. Free-
dom of speech does not include the right
to propagandize against any group of
people, to advocate puting Jews in
ovens, blacks in slums or mese in
graves. While it's true that we can only

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PLAYBOY

retroactively
ng of an indi

assess the danger of a public
al's views, there arc

се stances in which we can be sure
that freedom of speech will lead ıo
ham We cannot allow pers

much less a Nobel Prize winner, to kin-
dle the flame of hatred. One thing is
sure: Dr. Shockley will never be in the
inning for the Nobel Peace Prize.

Saul Singer

Brooklyn, New York
If freedom of speech doesn't mean the
right lo say things that others consider
false, immoral or dangerous, it doesn't
mean very much at all.

SONS OF WHAT?

As the bicentenn
Revolution appro:
teresting to take a closer look at some ol
those who claim a special devoti
that revolution. For instance. reading a
friend's copy of SAR. а magazine pub-
lished by the Sons of the American
Revolution, I came across an article that
gave me an amusing insight into their
state of mind.

The article noted that Scholastic News
Citizen, a publication for elementary

1 of the American
hes, it might be

n to

school students, had published a speci
issue on education and civil liberties. Ac-
cording to SAR, this subversive publi

tion told kids about the First. Fou
Filth, th and Eighth
ation,

th,
Amendments 10
dvised them that

1 lockers were private, that
they might wear thei as long as
they wished and that they might wri

what they pleased. Even more disturbing
was Scholastic News Citizen's cover
showing two “unkempt” students, one
wearing a shirt displaying the “leftist”
peace symbol. the other a shi
words DON'T EAT 1

n homa
апе Mcllvain,
for kicking off protest against this
sidious poison." She raised enough fuss to
spook other teachers and eventually Gov-
crnor David Hall was drawn into the act.
He requested that no more such. material
be sent to Oklahoma schools. Finally,

spokesman for Scholastic Ni Citizen
abjectly apologized, said the editor respon-
sible had been disciplined and stated, “It
wats пога good job and we d of
iv" The Oklahoma chapter of the Sons
of the A Revolution gav
Mellvain a good-citizenship award for
keeping the kiddies from finding out that
the U.S. Constitution applies to them.

In her leter protesting Scholastic
News Citizen's special issue, Mrs. МСП-
ted thoughtfully, “HE they [chil-
n] are taught constantly that {heir
ngs
always come first, it will be a very sad
for them when they find the world
docs not operate on this premise.” Cle;
ly, Mrs. Mell "s students are not being
ghts. In

ие

would probably һа
prise to them, if she had let them read it
If Mrs. Mellvain and the Sons of the
American. Revolution had been around
in 1776. one сап imagine how they'd have
howled about those unkempt minute
men, that leftist flag designed by Betsy
Ross, the subversive boycott of British tea
and the insidious poison of the Decl
ation of Independence, which states that
the freedom, rights and feelings of the
people come

e come as quite a s

Albert Hansen
Denver, Colorado

SOUNDS LIKE... ?

While the letters in the May Playboy
Forum about the rabidly puritanical dis-
wia ацогпсу for Tulsa, Oklahoma, are
disturbing, they do have a lighter side. I
think it’s a remarkable irony that prose-
anor S. M. Fallis name bears a resem-
blance to the name of an organ that
evidently upsets him so.

John Mudge. Jr
Mercer Island, Washington

DEEP THROAT, SHALLOW JUDGE

Deep Throat has finally hit Tacoma,
Washington. A local judge and four po-
lice officers were among the opening-
night crowd. and after 33 minutes. they
decided 1 enough and seized
the film (along with the seco
The Devil in Miss Jones, which they had
The next day, the

icwed at

judge said he lı nfiscated the films
because they did not meet community
standards, However, the theater owner

must have had other prints of the movies.
as the pictures continued to play, with no
further hassles from authorities. On the
fifu night, my wile and I went down to
see the two films. Alter standing for 15
minutes in a line that didn't move, 1
asked the proprictor how much longer
we would to wait. He said it would
be two hous before we even got inside
door. We left, and we'll wait for the
lines to get shorter before we go back
I figure the judge must have had the
wrong community in mind.

Walter J. Endicott. Jr.

GO F— A KITE

The supreme court of Florid
four-toone decision, upheld the c

i of a site law enacted in
provides “any person who
shall publicly use or utter any indecent
or obscene language shall be guilty of
a misdemeanor of the second degree
Unable in their verdict 10 bı
selves to spell out the words in question
the justices wrote, "Let us first exa
the language publicly used by the
pellant resulting in the in
which is as follows: "G—— D
er F Pigs and So
B---— Is this indecent oi
age? We find that it is

ng them

They then

can

continued: "A boy flying a kite
i with

haul it in, but you cannot do t

"guage used by the appellant
led to his arrest, whieh, in turn, led to the
discovery of less than five grams of mari-
juana on his person. He was convicted of
possession of ma but if he could
have overturned the law against obscene

language, then his marijuana possession
con ight have fall se of
unlawlul search and seizure. Justice

Richard W. Ervin. in his dissenting opin
on. remarked tl dulged in
lile more than a parochial ipse dixit
conclusion expressing personal prejudice
that indecent ku n public
in and of itself is a crime.” A liile per-
sonal prejudice a ring Iree
on a m on charge may

have been involved, too.
The cause of civil liberties might have
been better served if the majority ol the
court had been out flying a kite instead
of siting on the bench.
Alton Pittman
Attorney ar Law
Tampa. Florida

NUDES AND PRUDES

There was a time when comstockery
was in full flower and when even artistic
poruayals of the naked human body were
carefully shielded from the public eye.
But I was su

Relieve it or not. a га mide
woman, in the manner Gogh's
Sorrow and without erotic allure. was re-
moved Irom the California. Midwinter
Fair in Imper alter
awarded third р ie thre
four women compl
The artist. Mrs Elizabeth Westen,
arked simply, “I really don't have
nergy 10 waste on such foolishness.”
director Jobn Clemmer’s com-
ted: "Is a damn stu-
2s. Ws time Imperial Valley
ting like we're living in 197
Others issued. similar protests. but the
ining was removed nonetheless; and
the Indies who complained сап cackle
over their tea about how they saved the
ley from art, sin and all those other
t have infested the
ice the Dark Ages ended.
John Barnoble
Oakland. California

1 Valley-
irc—bec.

being

ied. about

forces th

DRIVING IN SIN

Гуе just read about thre
which young women have bec
auto insurance for living with to
whom they are not married, ( a
Phoenix, Arizona, onc in Hartford, Con-
necticut, and one in Princeton, New
Jersey (Forum Newsfront. April). The

cases m
refused

woman in Phoenix has taken her com
plant lo the American Civil Liber
s Union, and the one in Hartford

eneral Has Determined

ing: The Surgeon

Pd NI
XXE

6
hat Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health.

Warni
Т

ык
SUR ЫҢ

THINK SILVA THINS 10

>
= Xe
: ЕЕ
E ics
z Er
[= 4 age
<L EsE
L £
ET. HR
ма Жы 3g
шы ав
— aeg
STe
cae iis

PLAYBOY

has sued ten insurance companies for
521,600,000. She is also suing the Retail
Credit Company for reporting to the in-
surance companies that she was "practi-
cally living" with a man. T wish these
women good luck. It seems to me that a

ivate businessman, such as an insur-
ance agent, has no right to try to shove
his own moral code down his customers’
throats.

aneth
tsburgh, Pe

"
nsjlvania

YOUR BRAINS OR YOUR. . . .

According to a minister in Jefferson,
Wisconsin, streaking is caused by de-
monic possession. I kid you not; the Rev-
erend Kenneth McKenzie, pastor of
Calvary Baptist Church, inserted ап ad
in the Jefleron Advertiser informing
the world that:

STREAKING IS NOT FUNNY. STREAKING
15 NO JOKE...

SIKEARING 15 THE UNMASKING OF A
SMUTTY HEART...

STREAKING IS DEMONIC SIN. Demons,
as uneducated as this may sound,
cause men to disrobe publicly. One
day while he was preaching, Jesus
was met by a man who was as naked
as the day he was born. . .. He had
given his heart over to a thousand.
demons, and these demons made
him run nude. . . . "Today's stre:
ers are the same; hearts full of sin
d brains given over io satanic
powers, demons, who cause them to
disrobe. . . .

A streaker is a sinner who needs to
come w Jesus and have his sin for-
given and his brain changed. . . .

it to come to
s changed, the
а remedy: "In

As for those who don't wi
Jesus and have th
Reverend. McK
my opinion. if among men the penalty for
streaking would be nothing short of cas-
ratio king would stop immediate-
It is truly inspiring the way religion
tes love, tolerance and kindness.

N. Kangas
Minneapolis, Minnesota

A PLACE IN THE SUN

I was astounded that D. L. С
found it necessary to travel
to Australia to find a place
authorities take а ude tow
[nude] sunbathing” (The Playboy Fo-
тит, May). Either he wasn't look
hard in his native Californ
tudes have changed there since he lelt.
At any rate, [ recently spent a

harass-

mentfree week of nude basking in the
sun at a spot called Black's Beach
Jolla, just north of San Di

beach is fairly secluded and access is dif-
ficult, but once you get there, you're free
to enjoy the sunshine in whatever degree
of dress or undress suits you. I's pa-
trolled by police, but the only people

they seem to bother are those violating
an ordinance against bringing dogs to
the beach. All in all, it’s a pleasant place
with very sane attitudes indeed.

Im n my home town,
Miam nude bathing. As of the
time I'm writing, there have been no
complaints and no a

SWINGING ACES

Dell and Tracy Ford state in the May
Playboy Forum that they could not find
а couple under 30 who have not at least
discussed mate swapping as a legitimate
alternative to the oc nal tedium that
occurs in every union." We question
how

We think
frustrated with thy marria 4 are
very insecure about sex in general, act-
ing on every whim to prove to them-
selves and to their peers that they are
still high-performance aces їп the bed-
room. Then, too, how many oi the
1,000,000 swingers estimated by the Fords
are swinging because they really want to,
and how many
losing a spouse?

As а couple under 30 with a few years
of happy marriage behind us
more ahead, we think we sp
majority of young people, who have been
able to make successful lives together. A
good marriage involves sex,
and a good relationship will never be
built if one is busy with quick-change
partners. Trust, sharing, confidence and
love are the building blocks of a happy
union, and a good sex life together is a
natural by-product of all these.

Jack and Helene Neiss
Elizabethtown, Pennsylvania

much looking they actually did.
likely that swingers are

SEXUAL NUMBERS GAME
Dell and Tracy Ford make a big deal
over how many swingers there are in the
country, whether people under 30 tend
to be especially interested in swinging,
whether the practice is growing, etc.
Why do we tend to Teel insecure with our
sexual behavior unless we can prove that
great numbers of other people share our
taste? What are we, a
ly, Га like to be able to cla
olf on something absolutely uniqu
like being bug
eros. What's wrong with being differen?
S. Mandell
Miami, Florida

nts, shee]

am
gered by a horny rhinoc-

THAT OLD GANG OF MINE

The id
loney. Every gene
first to discover sex. My bride and I h
just celebrated our golden wedding an-
niversary. We've done everything in ihe
book from mate swapping to group mas-
turbating to S/M and. t, we still
belong to a club we helped form not too

of a sexual revolu

on
n thinks

long alter we were married. ‘There w
21 couples and we met once a month on
a farm not far from Sacramento and had
a wild fucking weekend. Today there are
) couples in the club. That increase in
numbers is all the sexual revolution
amounts to.

As for the supposedly new candor in
^s movies, 1 can remember se
sex movies in a theater 65 years ago. One
was of a naked woman being used to
make a mold for a wax store dumm
other was of a schoolt

ping: still another was of early Pur
torturing women accused of immoralit
whipping them and exposing their

breasts. Г don't think these movies made
ws any worse or апу better, but thank
goodness the Supreme Court of that day
was too busy busting up the big oil com
panies to bother about a little flesh.
(Name withheld by request)
Beverly Hills, California

BUSHWHACKERS

On the subject of masturbating before
going on a date, a leuer in the May
Playboy Forum states, "One in the bush
is worth two in the hand." I'd like to
add that a nd on the bush is worth
two on the bird.

A. Napoli
New York, New York

PASSION FOR PAIN

Until | was 15, E hated being spanked.
‘That summer I missed my grandmother's
birthday celebration, having spent the
day swimming, and my father pecled my
m down and blistered my rear
belt. My brother and sister
terribly humiliated,
But suddenly 1 felt so sti ated. that I
almost had an orgasm right there across
p. T ran to my room and
turbated for an hour.

After that, I covertly encouraged my
father to spank me. When I began dati
1 was much more physically turned on
when Га been whipped at home before
going out. One cvening, after I started
dating the man who is now my husband,
I arranged to start an argument with my
parents just as he arrived to pick me up.
Dad gave me a really terrific bare-bot-
tomed spanking right in (ront of him. It
hurt like hell, but I also felt passion as
never before; it would be great when my
boyfriend i

had seen me chastened that way. But I
didn't count on Dad's grounding me, too.
He sent me straight t0 my room, and I
was so frustrated 1 cried twice as hard as
I did over the spanking. A half hom
ter. Dad walked into and
aught me masturbating. He hit me about

тоот

20 times bare-assed with my sister's riding
crop. E was high for a week

Now my husband spanks me soundly
every night before sex. He uses every
thing from my sandals to а wooden pad
dle with my name on it. 1 suggest sexual

spanking for any couple, especially the
young or those who find sex becoming
routine. It’s ecstasy!
(Name withheld by request)
Louisville, Kentucky

SUPERORGASMS
The March segment of PLAYBOY'S Sex-

ual Behavior in the 1970s deals in. part
with sadism and masochism. As its find-
i € based on a scientifically selected

mple, I accept itas basically
sound. Nevertheless, I disagree with the
statement that "S/M. activity does not
yield superorgasms.” When my mistress
requires me to present myself. naked so
that she can use or abuse me as she
fancies, I become tremendously conscious
of my existence as a sexual being. The
discomfort of the bonds, the pain of the
whip, the frequent humiliation of having
10 sively before her in a
state of full arousal.
the mind to the body
result, for me, is explosive, and my mis-
tress (though for different reasons) also
finds much greater release after she has
so used me. 1 cannot believe that we are
entirely unique in this regard among sad-

isis and masod
(Name withheld by request)
Washington, D.C.

S/M = B.S.

Ferry Kolb's paean to pain (The
Playboy Forum, February) deserves some
a ost devious piece
of sophistry since Agnew denounced wel-
fare cheaters. If sadism and masochism
mean anything, they refer to the patho-
logical enjoyment of inflicting or rece
ing pain. Yet Ms. Kolb would have us
believe she’s talking about an unusual
but possibly superior approach to ex-
love. She says that "prac-
tically every п relationship involves
some implicit dominance amd submis-
sion and . . . S/M makes these implicit
dynamics highly explicit." Sure it does.
Practically father-daughter rela-
tionship involves implicit sexuality, and
incest would at explicit, too; but
tha would be healthy,
ny other way bene

pres:

pro] е
ficial for а man to have sex with his
lite girl.

Ms. Kolb also writes:

On the most sublime level, S/M is
total giv s an M, my need
is to put myself totally in the power
of my 5, to worship him, to prove, by

ay pain and hun that my
love can overcome all the obstacles
that the world can put in its path.
The S must be a giving, loving per-
son—cnough so that he ссерї
such extravagant devotion with а
clear conscience.

Bullshit. A sadist is as likely to have no.
conscience as a clear one, and anyone
who can believe that line of crap could.

believe that the scandalous activities of
our current crop of political crooks rep-
resent a selfless attempt to prove thei
devotion to the country.

I'm not trying to suggest that sadists

and masochists should be deprived of
their fun: if they want to kick hell out of
one another, it doesn't concern me. But
I ат concerned when they try to pass olf
sickness and. depravity as openness and
virtue. И we let them convince us of that,
language and reason suffer and it won't
be long before we start believing that
hate is love and war is peace.

J. Edwards

Minneapolis, Minnesota

CIRCUMCISION, MALE .

The low incidence of cervical cancer
among the wives of circumcised men is
given as a jı n for cirom-

. But for the
have been dra

ncidence of
not declined.
1 water is just as
s circumcision in preventing
cancer. The frequently cited fact that 1$
rael has a low rate of cervical cancer may
be due to the pe
people of t

cumcised. In other ts of the world
where the male is routinely amcised,
there is frequently a higher incidence of
cervical cancer than in Isracl, possibly
due to poor hygiene. Conversely, al
Parsis of India have a very low rate of
penile and cervical cancer, and the men
of that group are not circumcised.

The fact is that circumcision is unnec-
essary, and 1 can conclude only that the
almost universal mutilation of the penis
for no good reason is one of the more
striking insanitics of our time.

Harry Watson
Baltimore, Maryland

The pros and cons of circumcision are
still being debaicd in medical circle:
Last year, Drs. Robert Burger and
Thomas H. Guthrie presented the Amer-
ican Medical Association with a quali-
fied favorable report. They said that
circumcision should be limited to healthy
infants, it should be performed at least
24 hours after birth and it should be
done only by a physician. Their findings
support ihe belief that cancer of the cer-
vix is more frequent in women with un-
circumcised male sex partners, and they
also report that cancer of the penis,
which kills 300 males a year in the U. S...
is almost never found in а circumcised
man. As for cervical cancer in the U.S.,
the most recent Federally sponsored.
national cancer survey reported that, in
fact, it has declined since the first survey
was taken in 1947-1948 (though this may
be due to better detection).

There are many countries with as
much claim to thorough personal hy-
giene as Israel; the reason that Israel's

statistics are significant is the virtual
universality of circumcision there. The
uncircumcised Parsis have the same rate
oj penile cancer as their uncircumcised
Hindu neighbors, despite the Parsi! high
standard of cleanliness.

Researchers find that genital cancer
seems to be connected to three interre-
lated factors: the presence of circumci-
sion, the completeness of circumcision
(Moslems remove less of the foreskin
than Jews and have higher genital-can-
cer vates) and personal cleanliness. It
seems

to us the

e's а case for circum-
cision, bul nol a very strong one.
and probably individual judgment
should carry as much weight as scientific
indications

. . . AND FEMALE
nd of mine surprised me
women are more easily
oused ro climax after they have been
'cumcised. I didn't know there was such
a thing as circumcision for women. so 1
read up on it. It seems the clitoris is
covered by a hood of skin very much the
way the male foreskin covers the glans
penis. One article stated that in 75 per-
cent of women this female foreskin is too
long or too thick to permit them to
enjoy ditoral sensation; it also claimed
that over half the people in thc U.S.
have had corrective or plastic surgery
performed on their genitalia. 1 under-
stand that the operation is performed by
slitting the woman's foreskin down the
center, leaving two flaps of skin th
are then removed. exposing the clitoris
tion could make it easier for
h climax. it would be a
godsend to both sexes.

(Name withheld by request)
hassee, Florida

We know of no research that has
either measured clitoral sensation or
determined that 75 percent of women
are genitally handicapped. Irs true, of
course, that over halj the people in the
U.S. have had corrective or plastic sur-
gery on their genitalia—if you count all
the men who have been circumcised.
While female circumcision might help in
the Jew cases in which the foreskin is ab-
normal, it as likely will not work for
many others. Some women who have had
the operation. you describe complained
later of pain or irritation in the exposed
clitoral glans. We definitely don't recom-
mend it asa cure for difficulty in reaching
orgasm, a problem that’s more often lo-
cated in the mind than in the body.

"he Playboy ойе
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 Chicago, linois 60611.

Forum” s the

Avenue,

PLAYBOY

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ranor www ERICH VON DANIKEN

a candid conversation with that publicist for ancient astronauts,
the best-selling author of the cult classic “chariots of the gods?”

Few things are as hard to predict as a
fad, and when Erich von Däniken wrote
“Chariots of the Gods?” eight years ago,
nobody guessed that this stocky Swiss ex-
convict would become, to millions. of
people around the world, а chronicler of
ancient astronauts, But that is just what's
happened. As an American phenomenon,
Von Däniken ranks in popularity (as w
go to press) somewhere between streak
ing and the exorcism craze. “Chariots” is
in its 44th paperback printing, with U.S.
sales estimated at 5,000,000 copies. A film
based on the book rose to the top five on
Variety's box-office list—an eye-opening
performance for a documentary—and а
TT special navvated by Rod Serling drew
good ratings. At 39, Von Däniken has
become a talk-show regular and is even
the subject of a German biography, So
many people are excited by the idea that
spucemen have visited Earth that Carl
Sagan, the astronomer and exobiologist,
says. "I can по longer lecture anywhere
on the subject of extraterrestrial intelli-
gence without someone asking a question
about Von Daniken’s theories."

Von Däniken speculates that Earth was
explored. at least twice in prehistoric
times by intelligent beings from another
world. According to him, they mated with
humans, bestowed the gifts of intelligence

ven fingers or long cari—
it matter? They were basi-
cally like ourselves, and by artificial
mutation they changed our intelligence.”

and civilization and may have helped
build such monuments as the pyramids
Sometimes they got angry and acted less
pleasantly, blowing up Sodom and Go-
morrah with an atom bomb and causing
the great flood that Noah survived. Evi
dence of their visits, Von Däniken Бе
licces, cun be found in mythology, in the
Bible, in the great carth- and stoneworks
that su in various parts of the world
and in cave paintings of people with
bubble heads.

1s he admits, Von Däniken thought
up very little of this; other writers came
up with ihe same theories and evidence
when he was still a schoolboy. Von Däni-
ken attributes his success to a questing.
irreverent intelligence, a willingness 10
think the unthinkable—and an ability to
convey those thoughts in a bombastic,
su perenthusiastic writing style. Critics say
it's because he plays fast and loose with
the truth. "Shilling the rubes," The New
York Times has called his work. “A fine,
naked, unscrupulous 12-year-old mind,"
said Esquire. “The Clifford Irving of the
Cosmos’—The Miami News. And an
archaeologist familiar with Von Dániken's
work said flatly: “He simply lies” But
that kind of talk doesn't seem to bother
Von Däniken. "Im the only author who
has really frightened the critics," he says.

Us true that 1 accept what 1 like and
ct what 1 don't like, but состу theolo-
veryone accepts what

gian does the same.
he needs for his theory, and to the r
he says, ‘That's a misunderstanding?”

“Other writers sit at home and wait for
miracles. I'm making the miracles

He also foc! tnessed а jew. Barn
in Zofingen. Switzerland, їп 1935, Von
Düniken experienced at the age of eight
something that resembled a scene from
onc of his books: An American bomber
crash-landed near his home and, as Von
Däniken watched, its crew emerged and
walked past him silently in their flight
suits. A psychiatrist might detect the germ
of Von Dániken's vision in that. but he
dismisses that sort of interpretation as
"ridiculous" —one of his favorite English
words.

By his own account, he grew np under
the twin shadows oj a stern father and
the Catholic Church, eventually rebelling
against both. At Saint-Michel. an interna-
tional Catholic school in. Fribourg, he
soon тап into trouble, he says today, be-
cause he relused to accept Church inter-
pretations of the Bible. His interest
Turned to astronomy, flying saucers—any-

thing extraworldly. Von Daniken got into
more trouble, at the age of 19, when he
received a suspended sentence for theft.
Erich’s father withdrew him from school
and apprenticed him to a Swiss hotelier
He stayed at the job for a while, then ran
away lo Egypt. Upon his return to Switzer-

BEN MARTIN
“If 1 came down toa primitive people,
they would look upon me as God. Every-
thing 1 did would make me God in
their eyes, because 1 could fly, kill ani-
mals with a single shot, and so forth.”

PLAYBOY

land, he spent time in prison for tax fraud
and was labeled unreliable.

While in his cell, he claims, he experi-
enced an intense vision. Von Däniken
won't discuss the nature of the vision, but
whatever it was, it failed to keep him clear
of the law. For 12 years he took frequent
vacations from his job as a hotel manager
to travel around the world, gathering ma-
terial for his first book.

But by that time, after being rejected
by a dozen publishers, “Chariots of the
Gods?" had been published and had
become а best seller in Europe. "Scholars
will call it nonsense,” Von Düniken cor-
rectly predicted in the first paragraph, but
nonsense or not, it allowed him lo pay
back the 5130.000 and move on from his
shattered career in the hotel business to
become a writer.

"Chariots" is à book filled with ques-
tion marks and exclamation points:
Could lines in the Peruvian desert be the
remains of an ancient airporl? Does а
cave painting show a man in а space
suit? Was this old map made from the air?
But of course! While in jail, Von Däniken
wrote a second book, “Gods from Outer
Space,” rehashing much of the same ma-
terial in a calmer style. Sales were disap-
pointing, so in a third book, “The Gold
of the Gods,” he returned to punchy sen-
tences and sensational claims—including
the discovery of a huge cave in Ecuador
allegedly holding a treasure in gold arti-
facts left behind by visitors from outer
space. A fourth Von Düniken book, “My
World in Pictures,” is now being trans-
lated into English, and he is at work on
a fifth.

Bookstores may stack Von Dániken's
books unceremoniously under Fantasy
and scientists dismiss him as a con man,
but to millions of readers, what he writes
is closer lo gospel. Von Däniken stays on
the move, traveling over 100,000 miles
a year, lecturing, autographing books,
making breakneck tours of archaeological
sites to scoop up new material, keeping a
jump ahead of his critics. To draw a bead
on this highly mobile man, PLaynoy dis-
patched Timothy Ferris—a New York-
based writer who is devoting much of his
time to a book about the search for the
edge of the universe—to interview Von
Daniken at his home outside Zurich,
where he lives with his wife and 12-year-
old daughter. Ferris reports:

Von
man

"I was greeted at the door by
Däniken himself, a short, рий;

with dark hair and bright eyes, a tight.
smile and an air of inexhaustible en-
ergy. Talking rapidly in thickly accented
English—he speaks five languages—Von
Düniken showed me into a sunny, com-
pact living room furnished with a giant
color-television set, a few hundred books
and а garish oil painting of an astronaut
floating among ihe pink cherubim of a
cathedral fresco.

“With pride in his voice, Von Däniken
explained that he had just paid off the
mortgage on the house. It's not a large
place, and the boast seemed a bit odd
coming from an author who had sold
some 23,000,000 books world-wide, but in
fact he isn’t a very rich man. Rights to
‘Chariots’ have been sold over the years
to a series of publishers in a system that
works out like a writer's nightmare. Each
partner in this elaborate bucket brigade
skims off 50 percent of the money and
what's left may take as long as three years
to reach Von Däniken. So whatever else
he can be accused of, he is not profiteering
from his theories.

“During the three days of the inter-
view, we talked at first upstairs, then in
Von Däniken's favorite room, his base-
ment office, where the walls are lined with
bright red, green and orange file cabinets
filled with news clips and letters from
readers. As we talked, he sipped black
coffee and sucked on a tubular pipe
shaped something like a space capsule.
Occasionally he asked that the tape re-
corder be turned off while he rummaged
through books and papers in search of
material to back up his claims. He seemed
satisfied even if the books yielded no evi-
dence at all: He is a man who enjoys the
trappings of scholarship—old maps and
books scrutinized through tobacco smoke
far into the night—at least as much as
scholarship itself. We began by asking
him (o summarize his studies for us.”

PLAYBOY: Since your theories appear to
change somewhat with the times, can you
tell us what you currently belicve?

VON DANIKEN: I say in my books not only
that we have been visited from outer

space nt times but that those v
tors had sexual intercourse with our an-
cestors. Many scientists reply, "That is

damned nonsense, because even if we ac
cept that there are extraterrestrial beings
they can travel in space, w
should they come to our Earth, out of all
the billions of planets? And why should
visitors from outer space look like us and
have a similar way of thinking?” This
point of view—and it certainly is a ser
ous one—is, in my eyes. wrong. Ш we
admit that the tors had intercourse
with us and altered, by artificial mu
tion, our intelligence, then it means we
are the products of them. A ch
never ask. “Why should my ра
like me?" There is no other possibility
he came from his parents. This does not
deny Dar ad his theory; 1 fully
admit that we came from apes. My qu
tion is just why and how we became
intelligent. To this question cach mythol-
ogy. each old religion gives the same
answer: The gods created man after their
own image.

and (d

PLAYBOY: A psychiatrist might say that
your theories, with all this talk about
mankind as children of superior beings,
were generated by your unhappiness
child who didn't get his fa
ther. Do you sec
VON DANIKEN: Well, yes and no. I did
difficulties with my father and with my

tholic upbringing, but it's not true
that because of this | am now. as an
adult, trying to defeat Christianity.

‘That's not so. On the other ad,
has some reason to do what he

you like to ask questios
tremble and say the wrong things Pe
haps there is a psychiatric explanation
for that. My reason for doing what I do is
because I want to find the truth. I won
der why the hell I live here on this p
PLAYBOY: What is the most convincing evi-
dence you have that Earth has been
ed from outer space?

VON DANIKEN: Two kinds of proof: proof
by hard facts and proof in mytholog
holy books, legends. and so forth. We
have very good proof in h ict. In Pa-
lenque, a little place in Yucatán, there is
а tomb covered by а large stone. On thi:
stone is a wonderful relief. It shows
siting in a ki ne. He is
bending forward motorcy-
nd at hi t I would
He is operating
some controls with his hands, turnin
something on—you can recognize every
det and the heel of his left foot seems
to be on a pedal which has different ad-
justments, Behind him you see some
circles, some boxes, all kinds of mysteri-
ous things. And outside is a flame like an

f. people

exhaust.
PLAYBOY: We're familiar with the stone,
which s a bird in front of him.

"sit doing there?
VON DANIKEN: Oh, І don't know. Perhaps
it represents flight, you know? Anywa
around the stone is a writing sv
relief shows a Mayan priest who died be-
cause of “the hot wind." Archacologists
this shows the poor guy was sick and
died in a hot summer season. I sec it cor
pletely differently. that the hot wind was
maybe the blast from a spaceship. I

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uncharted island paradise.
14° 28’ North 16633 West.
Don't send help.
Just send more
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PLAYBOY

would not say this if we did not have, in
many other old texts, similar things
where someone is killed by the “hot wind.
of the gods.” You find these hot winds in
the Mahabharata, the Hindu epic, and in
the Sumerian epic of Gilgamesh, where
Engidu dics because he has been in con-
tact with the gods and their hot wind.
Some of the best proofs. T think, are in
mythology and in the holy books. You
know the book of Enoch? It is one of the
Apocrypha, a book from O'd Testament
times, though not in the King James
Bible, In chapters 14 and 15 of his hook,
Enoch says watchmen of the sky have
been here and hi l inter-
course with the ¢ planet,
and that the product of this intercourse
was, in the first generation, giants. You
might say this is just mythology. But in
the same book of Enoch, we find a chap-
ter about astronomy, where the watch-
men of the sky tell Enoch about our solar
system. They tell where the moon's light
comes from, how much light which
date, and they speak about the names of
the stars. They give complicated astro-
nomical details which, I feel, nobody
could have known at the time of Enoch,
because this whole story happens before
the great flood.
PLAYBOY: When did you become con-

vinced that these theories wi true?
VON DANIKEN: Į guess onl! ent years.
I wrote Chariots of the Gods? in 1966, so

for me it’s an old book. When I wrote it,
I was not at all convinced. By the second
book, Gods from Outer Space, Y was
more certain, but not absolutely. The
basic thing is to be convinced that the
fundamental theory is right, that we nave
heen visited from outer space and those
itors altered our intelligence by artifi-
ion. Of this I have felt certain
for the past four years or so.
PLAYBOY: Why?
VON DANIKEN: Studying mythology and
i what made up my
mind. When you find in mythology some
fac or technological development that
nobody could have 1 at that time,
something maybe that we ourselves dis-
covered only recently, then you have
something. If it only happens once, that
is one thing; but when it happens several
times, then you can say, “Now we have
proof.”
PLAYBOY: If ancient astronauts explored
the Earth, why didn't they leave ап
thing behind? Why haven't we found
any relics?
VON DANIKEN: Let's say you and I are
extraterrestrials; we are ending our stay
id we want to leave behind an
object to record that we were here. We
can create such an object, a time capsule
or a plaque or whatever, but what do we
do with it? We cannot give it to a leader

of human society and tell him, “Listen,

my dear friend, we have to go to the stars
now, but here is something very impor
tant for your descendants 4000 years in

the future. Keep it carefully.” Because
we know that the guy will be dead in 20
years. There will bc wars and the win-
ners will destroy the temples and li-
braries of the losers, and the object will
be lost.

One possibility would be to construct
something so big that nobody could de-
stroy it. In fact, there are such things оп
our planet; the Great Pyramid is onc. Yet
суеп today, no archaeologist has looked
deep down under the pyramids to sce
what is there. The pyramid is almost 500
feet high; we should look 500 feet be-
neath it, But nobody docs. Even at that,
Т do not think the chances are good of
finding a monument of the ancient. as-
tronauts’ anywhere on Earth, because
they must have known that with foods,
earthquakes, and so on, it could be
destroyed
PLAYBOY: So you
tors wa
the c
ed without lea
VON DANIKEN: This is more complicated
than you think. If they did leave a monu-
ment, such as a monitoring device to i
form them when humans developed the
hydrogen bomb. it may still be hidden
somewhere. But it would be hidden very
well. It was not in the best interests of the
isitors to put it where it could be di
ered by technologically advanced people,

i t with a

ing that these visi-
the Earth, altered
history and depart
a trace?

sh of an
cient spaceship? But you know, today,

n aircraft is crashing, the pilot tries to
steer away from the villages so nobody
1 bc killed. I'm sure an ancient astro-
naut would have done the same. Only
one one hundredth of one percent of the
globe has been investigated by archaeolo-
gists, and they explore precisely where
they know there were villages and com-
munities, not out in the middle of no-
where. So the remains of а crashed
spaceship could exist, but we haven't
found it.

PLAYBOY: Whitt makes you think creature:
from another star would have an intelli
gence akin to ours?

VON DANIKEN: It could be that the uni-
verse contains billions of different types
of intelligence, but beings who can travel
in space will visit beings s to them-
selves. They will look fo nets with
conditions like those of their home plan-
et, where life would have developed the
. The beings who visited us m:
have had three сусу, seven fingers or lon
ears—what does it matter? That's not im-
po They were basically like our-
selves, and by artificial mutation they
changed our intelligence to something
ike their own,

Let us dream a little dream together.
Lets say that in 5000 yems we have
found all the answers concerning our
wn planet. We know everything about
5 brain, about the deep sea, plants

and animals. Maybe we have world
peace, so it's a wonderful future to dream
of. What
gent, we look up at the little lights in the
sky and we ask, “What the hell are
they?” We have no alternative but to
travel in space sooner or later. And all
this came from those visits so long ago.
You ask for evidence. In the United
States, Mr. Josef Blumrich, chief of the
systems-layout branch of NASA, has pub-
lished a book. The Spaceships of Ezekiel.
He comes to the definite conclusion,
with scientific methods, that the Old
‘Testament prophet Ezekiel described the
landing of a spaceship in 592 Bc. If the:
were such a landing, it would have gone
into mythologies around the world. And
asa matter of fact, we have such mytholo-
gies, speaking of visitors from heaven.
We find the story Babylonian tales
and in the mythology of northern. Eu-
rope. In Australia we find rock paintings
showing flying beings, men and women
with halos and. helmets, 1 so on. We
have hundreds of them.
PLAYBOY: The part of the book of E
you and Blumrich talk
impressive, with wheels of fire up in the
sky and all that. But the same book has
long sections you don't quote that are
very different. For example, Ezekiel says,
describing the creatures you call astro-
nauts, "Every onc had four faces, and
every one had four wings. .. . As for the
likeness of their faces, they four had the
face of a man, and the face of a lion. on
the right side; and they four had the face
n ox on the left side: they four also
the face of an eagle.
looked like humans, as you say, how
could they also look like lions, oxen and.
birds?
VON DANIKEN: Here, look at this picture.
It shows the first Gemini spaceship. Now
I turn it upside down. Imagine you were
a primitive man and you had never scen
a spaceship, then you saw this. How
would you describe it?
PLAYBOY: It looks vaguely as if it had two
eyes, but there isn't anything thar looks
like an eagle.
VON DANIKEN: І don't see it either. But
there is an explanation, which Blumrich
es. Your American World War Two
pilots had paintings on their aircraft, re
member? Paintings of Mickey Mouse,
Donald Duck, young ladies or whatever.
And they had names on their plane:
Even your moonships had namcs—like
Eagle. Maybe the sime thing happened
with these visitors; maybe the spaceship
was big and Erckicl saw just a picture oi
it. We re
PLAYBOY: Ezekiel
of dry bones tu
living men.
VON DANIKEN: Oh, really? I don't remem-
ber this passage. It must have been a mir
acl. As wild speculation, I could say
maybe he saw a movie or something.
PLAYBOY: If the creature who spoke to

mei

Iso says he saw
ed into

heap
n army of

Ezekiel was an astro
keep insisting he was God
VON DANIKEN: I have just the opposite
recollection, that he did not say he м:
God. 1 guess it depends on the transla-
tion you изе.
PLAYBOY:
Bible,
very clearly, th
had beuer listen to Him.
VON DANIKEN: Well, if I came down to a
i ple, they would look upon
g I did would make
me God in their eyes, because I could fly,
kill а Is with a sin shot
forth. So maybe Ezekicl called him God.
Bur I definitely do not think the con
mander of the spaceship said he was God.
If ke did, it would be proof to me that he
was a liar
PLAYBOY: This being is quoted as sayi
"Тат the Lord" over and over
VON DANIKEN: But what is the Lori
commander.
PLAYBOY: 50 you're say
perfect when it desc
ship but completely
it records what the pilot һа
thar an inconsistent posit
VON DANIKEN:
gians are in the same position. Its true
that I accept what 1 like and reject what
I don't like, but every theologian docs
the same. Everyone accepts just what he
needs for his theory, and to the rest he
says, “Well, thats a understanding.”
ї you claim to he
(cc, not theology, and. you
e much regard for

why did he

James version of the

ig the text is letter
bes the so-called
curate when
Isn't

say
theologi
VON DANIKEN: 1 have regard for theolo-
gians if they are really honest in their
hearts. 1 have some theologian friends
d we have long discussions into the
night, and they i sons. But in
the depth of ıl € beliey
crs. Th у ^d be a science if they
would study all religi ust the
onc they believe in

PLAYBOY: You're somctli

you

еа kind of religion
ave very lew and that
promise

not my

do wrong, yo
ion makes promises
verify. But in my books the
I never implore
a given way. Also, org
s have churches, cong

and my books have
LU
world,

to hell. E
body
are no p
people to act
ied. religie

tions, and so forth,
nothing to do with u
leners from readers
d 1 would estimate that only
in a thousand fecls this is some sort of re
ligion. ОГ course, it is rue that | often

at. I received 2:

round il

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PLAYBOY

mention the Bible in my books. Have
you read the Bible?

PLAYBOY: Yes.

VON DANIKEN: Do you believe it?

PLAYBOY: There are different sorts of be-
lief. A criticism could be made that. you
resemble conservative priests who insist
on literal interpretations of cvcrything
1 the Bible.

VON DANIKEN: Oh, on the coni
PLAYBOY. Well. Robert Graves says that
all through human history there have
been two languages—poetry. often ex-
pressed in mythology, and prose—and
that people are always getting history con-
fused when they try to convert mythology
into literal prose. Don't you do that?

VON DANIKEN: Even if we have these two
languages, it doesn" change anything. А
scientific world will still hand down its
message in scientific language and not in

ary.

poetry.

Don't vou often ridicule scien-
causing them in Your books of
ig shortsighted and plodding?

VON DANIKEN: [ have thought about th
lot lately. In science today, each person.
e is no other

is too bi

nd he reads and
rns а lot about anthropology, about
bones and apes and all those details. His
wish is to prove that man comes from the
h was 1l м man,
ter another ape. and so
forth. I think this whole way of thinking
is a tunnel view. H you talk with a spe
st you find he knows everything
about his profession, he has read every
book and knows all his colleagues 200
s back. But. because of his specializa-
tion, | would say he is unlikely to arrive
at the truth. One uth, yes. But never
the wuth.

PLAYBOY: Arc you sure you understand
how scientists work? Iu. Chariots of the
Gods? you wrote, “At the conference
bles of orthodox scientists, the delusion
still prevails that a thing must be proved
before a ‘serious’ person. may—or с
concern himself with it" Do you really
accurate. account of what
goes on among scientists?

VON DANIKEN: No, I would not say so any-
more. 1075 correct for some scientists, but
bsolutely not for others. Not, for exam-
astrophysicists.
T have th

anthropologist

But in

у € their minds
made up when they find cach lite
object. I mean, 1 have been in the field

many times and have watched the d
5 of archacologists and they do a
ic job. 1 am an adr [ them,
Ау. But there is no fantasy in those
brains. There is no speculation. They
find an object and they say, “Well, it has
to do with such-andsuch culture, so now
we see they were eating with forks and
knives." Who cares about that? 1 wonder
where the forks and knives came from.

PLAYBOY: Let's talk about some of the mys-
teries you say the archaeologists ought to
be studying. In your book The Gold of
the Gods, you describe taking a voyage
through enormous caves in Ecuador
where you claim to have seen ancient fur-
niture made of plastic, a menagerie of
gold animals, a library of imprinted
metal plates and other evidence of a
great carly civilization. You call this “the
most incredible, fantastic story of the
century" and say you w

through the caves by a South 4
adventurer named Juan Moricz. Bu

Mo-
ricz says he never took you into any such

caves. Which of you is telling the truth?
VON DANIKEN: I guess we both are telling
half the truth.

PLAYBOY: Which half is yours?

VON DANIKEN: I have been in Ecuador sev-
eral times. I have met Moricz several times
and we have been to at the side
се to those tunnels, But before
in that entrance, Moricz made
it а condition that 1 would not be al-

lowed to give the location or to take
ide. | could understand

because he didn't want people
going in there. So Т agreed, we shook
lands and we left. And. as a matter of
fact. in my book I have nor told the truth

g the geographic location of the
place, nor about some various other little
things, In German we say а writer, if he
is not writing pure scence, is allowed to
use some dramaturgisch Effekte—some
al effects. And that's what 1 have
done. But finally, the whole controversy
over whether 1 have been down there in
those caves or not seems ridiculous. The
n should be: Does the library
tes exist or not? This should
be the main question, not whether Mr.
ken has seen them or not.

theatri

Are vou saying you have never
been inside the cives?

VON DANIKEN: | have been inside the
cives, but not at the place where the pho-
tographs in the hook were taken, not
at the main entrance. I was at a side
entrance. And we were down there [or

six hours.
PLAYBOY: Did you, in fact. sce the things
vou describe? Seven chais made of a
plasticlike material, a лоо of solid
animals, a library of gold pl
VON DANIKEN: Definitely. doubt.
Though 1 must say 1 ата not at all sure.
more, if the so-called оо is made of
gold, It could be something dilere:
PLAYBOY: In the book vou say Moricz led
you in darkness. then gave the command,

“Switch on your torches!” You write,
“We are standing dumfounded and.

amazed ii tic hall."

iddle of a g
ly happened
VON DANIKEN: No. that is not truc. It is
what I call theatrical effect.

PLAYBOY: Were you and Moricz even
the caves?

VON DANIKEN:
everything.

Yeah, sure. He saw

PLAYBOY: Moricz says, “Von Däniken was
never in the caves; when he states he has

seen the library and the other things
himself, he is lying. We never showed

him these things.”
VON DANIKEN: І know those statements, be-
ause he has wi the sa
thing, and 1 can well understand i
1969, Moricz organized xpedi
down there. All the crew members signed
documents promising to say nothing
about whatever they might find. This
was reported in the Ecuadorian press. So
when The Gold of the Gods appeared. 1
think members of the 1969 exped
must have told. Moricz, “Listen, this isn
fair. Von Däniken has made the thing
public. We could have made money with
it, but we were pledsed to silence.
this was the mi reason, thou
were others. wl ow says the
whole thing is ain, to
the main point is not if 1 have seen these
things or not I just don't care. The
question is, do they exist?

PLAYBOY: Didn't vour German. publisher
finance an expedition to the caves i
order to decide just that question?
VON DANIKEN: Yes. They sent a de:
Germ hacolo to lor. He
was die e than six weeks. He had
been to Ecuador many times before and
his purpose was to organize
tion into the cives. but he
and said it way impossible. He could not
find Mr. Moric. and the archaeologists in
Ecuador knew nothing of this discov

* moi

PLAYBOY. Why not lead am expeditio
into the caves voursell?
VON DANIKEN: | cannot. Em a little id

10 go there now. Mr. Moricz, under Ecua
dorian law, is something like an owner of
the caves. together with the government,
and he has the right 10 defend his prop-
erty. After this coniroversy, I have the
feeling I should not go there. and I really
¢ лао much anymore.

PLAYBOY: You scem to have bad luck when
it comes to caves. In your second book.

Gods |rom Outer Space, vou tell ol
in Chii

explored in 1938. You say an ar-
ist discovered. odd. thin-boned
, along with a set of stone
disks bearing inscriptions. According to
sory, these inscriptions, deciphered
in 1962, say spac паса
on Earth and been hunted down and
Killed by Earth people. When the hook
appeared, Dr. Kwang-chih Chang of Y:
University i
says that, st
chacology, he knows perso
conducted in China in or around 1938
but has never heard of this one. He says
there hı Leen a Chinese аг
chaeologist named Chi Pu Tei, the one
you say discovered the skeletons, nor a
Peking professor named Tsum Um Nui.
whom you identify as the translator of
the inscriptions. In fact, there are no
such names as Tei and Nui in the

your

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PLAYBOY

nese language; Dr. Chang says they
sound to him like words made up by a
Westerner trying to sound Chinese.

VON DANIKEN: When I wrote that story, I
didn't е enough kground informa-
tion: T had only a discussion with a

friend in Moscow and two or three publi-
cations. Since then, an Austrian journal-
asa has investigated

ia and China sev-

and he had only one thing in
d—o find out about 0
found out definitely tl it is true. The
stones ‚ the skeletons also, but the
mes and some of the dates are wron
Krassa hı bout it, wh
will soon be published in Am.
Іеце from а Chinese mii
proving it is the definite, absolute truth.

We'll reserve judgment, then.
about the so-called prehistoric cave
painting from Uzbekistan that appears
in the film version of Chariots of the
Gods? It shows vividly a modern-day as-
tronaut and a flying saucer, and if ivs
prehistoric, as the script says, it would be
very solid evidence for your theory

VON DANIKEN: You have a wonderlul way
of touching on every point which is un-
certain. I feel like I'm being prosecuted.
Il tell you, about 95 percent of the
bats 1 write about I have seen with my
But there are a few things, es-
and China, which I
This is one such case.
the pi never
ph the
Lenin State University, published this
painting in the Soviet magazine Sputnik
April 1, 1968. and I took the story. The
ilm crew went to Moscow and inter-
viewed Dr. Saizev. He showed them the
picture and told them the same th
that the painting was ancient, 1 wasn't
there with the crew. Then the funniest
thing, Peter Krassa, the journalist 1 was
telling you about, wrote to Dr. Saizev.
nd wered that the picture
was actually modern, not prehistoric,
Now, that’s reilly fantestic, don't you
think? First he published an aride
saying it was old, then he told the movie
crew the su g. and only now does
he say it is not old at all.

PLAYBOY; When did you discover that the
as a hoax?

couldnt have se

ie thi

1 not sure it is. 1 have
had some interesting experiences. with
people im Russia aud China. You can

never be sure when they tell you some
thing that th ally mean it. They
sometimes have reasons to say one thing
in private and another in public.

PLAYBOY: People all over the world have
seen the film, and they haven't been
told that the origin of the painting is
doubtful or that it might be a hoax.
They're being told it’s genuine. Isn't

VON DANIKEN: The film starts with ques-
tions and ends w ns, not
swers. In the film you see Dr. Saizev

being interviewed, you see him give this
picture to the movie crew. I'm very sorry,
but the interview is a fact. And the com-
simply, “Dr. Saizev showed

PLAYBOY: Re: ling from the film script, it
says: "We must look and look ag; to
grasp the significance of this prehistoric
drawing. A creature wearing the head-
gear of an astronaut.” And so on.

VON DANIKEN: Here I'd like to say that the
commentary to the film was not write:
by me. Also, there are
film that 1 would nev
way. For example, concerning Nazca,
Peru, where there are great lines laid out
in the desert, the film commentary sa
someth e, "No doubt, it must ha
been "Id." E never made such
staten I said, “It looks like
field." There's quite a difference.
PLAYBOY: OK. let's get back to your book:
then, where we know you can be held
sponsible. What is it about the pyramids

of Egypt th is you think they have
somethi with

outer space?

VON DANIKE!

far as the Gr

20 years with a [ew thousand slaves, using
wooden rollers, sand ramps, and so forth.
But the same archaeologists agree that the
Great Pyramid is composed of 2,300,000
blocks, ranging from a ton or so
12 tons for some ol them. Now, 2.300.000
blocks divided by 20 years is 115,000
blocks a vear needed to build the pyr
mid. Say the working year lasted 300
days—which is quite a long year. because
the
е pyra
mids only four months a year, while
the Nile was flooding. Allow a damned
long working day of 18 hours, You will
find that nearly every two
had to be set in place.
Try to repeat that today.

PLAYBOY: Which archaeologists say the
pyramid builders used wooden rollers?
VON DANIKEN: Morc or less all of them
PLAYBOY: They say wooden sledges, don't
they? And aren't there Egyptian. tomb
paintings showing teams of men trans-
porting huge stone blocks in just tha
way?

VON DANIKEN: Those paintings
the way they worked at the
ntings were made. At that
sport stones on wooden sledges,
rollers—it doesn't matter which—but
у before. ГИ tell you an-
а where | don't agree with the
archaeologists about Egypt, The i
reek historian Herodotus за
second book of 1

stone
nutes!

ery two m

im 340.
ne of
ach of the guys
d to complete his own
ts told. Herodotus those

ests showed hii

in his lifetime
statue. The pr

340 generations represented 11,540 years
gods from the sky
1 taught the priests

had come to Earth.
how to build such thi;
PLAYBOY: Even assuming your recollection
of Herodotus isn't a little garbled, don't
you have to kcep intra) IR
priests were telling him about things an
Gent even to them? The age of the pyra
mid builders was at least as remote fr
Herodotus as he is from us. Is it ex.

before their own time?
VON DANIKEN: That's true, but stil
fests talked about 11,3540 years, and our
of Egyptian history is nothing close
to that. We think of Egypt going back to
maybe 4000 years s.c.
PLAYBOY: You wrote that the Great Pyra-
mid “divides continents and oceans into
two equal halves and also lies at the ce
ter of gravity of the continents.” What
does that mean?
VON DANIKEN: I am referring there to
many other writers. It is not just the i
vention of Mr. Erich von Daniken hi
self. As I understand them, if you took all
the water away from the Earth and
pushed the continents together—so, for
fit up а
en the pyramid would be
in the middle. That's how it was ex-
plained to me. I've never tried it.
PLAYBOY: Another ancient mystery you
write about, not so old, is the 16th Сеп.
tury map put together by the Turkish car
tographer Piri Reis. You write, “There is
no doubt that the maps must have been
made with the most modern technical
aid—lrom the
them must have been able to fly and also
" You went on to
curate" and
cides with a view of Earth
eship in orbit above Cairo.

spa

The trouble is that the Piri Reis map is
not "absolutely accurate," mor docs it
coincide with a view from space.

VON DANIKEN: I'm not so sure about this,
really. According to my inlormation, it
docs.

PLAYBOY: We can
Piri Reis map and a
look at the two of the

ake out a copy of the
modern globe and
and see that they

don't agree.
VON DANIKEN: Yes, the movie crew did
i whole

But dor
view fr
impossible, because f
you cannot at tlie sa ne see the North
an continent and Antarctica.
PLAYBOY: Here's a copy of the Piri Reis
map. If you look at the way it represents
South America, for example, you'll find
that whole sections of the coast are miss-
ing. Yet this is the map you call absolute
ly accurate.

VON DANIKEN: Look, the Piri Reis m:
not one

the

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Garage Sale almost every- of three inchworms. 4. No. He's Frank Apraisel. Just bought "Man
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Pick the one who doesn't. “Alligator Having Snack." Smokes cigarette with so many air vents |
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HONDA PRESENTS THE 1974
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FOR OBVIOUS REASONS.

PLAYBOY

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U.S. Environmental Protection Agency.

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Chi

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Datsun 610 ] Maverick AN
Corolla 1200 Sedan rd Pinto Wagon A:
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Chevrolet Vega Hatchback Datsun 2602. M
Lotus Europa Porsche 911 T М5
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Triumph Spitfire. Express Dodge Dart А:
Ford Pinto Chevrolet Vega Kammback AMC Gremlin . !
Dodge Colt Wagon ury Comet Datsun 260Z

Dodge Colt Coupe
Subaru Wagon.
Toyota Corolla 1600 Seda
Volkswagen Convertible
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PLAYBOY

and some of it, such as the antarctic
coast line, looks as it would from a great
height. I don’t have other information.
PLAYBOY: You had a copy of the map when
you wrote your book, didn’t you?
VON DANIKEN: Sure, 1 had onc.
PLAYBOY: And you had access to a globe of
the Earth, All you had to do was compare
them.
VON DANIKEN: It’s not so easy. Really, it's
not. Look, here on the map, we have a
connection between Chile and the Ant-
arctic Continent. There is no such co
nection today, but maybe there was
12,000 years ago. Who knows? And there
e islands olf Antarctica. You explain to
me how they knew about those islands.
PLAYBOY: 115 a lascinating question, but
not one that necessarily requires ancient
astronauts to answer, Do you have any
qualms about telling your millions of
readers that this is an absolutely accurate
map, when, in fact, some parts of it are
accurate and other parts are wrong?
VON DANIKEN: I really don't know. I must
find out about what you say. If I find
that what I've written is wrong. then I
will be the first to correct it. At least in
my next book, I'll say this was wrong. At
the time I wrote the passage, that was my
information; 1 never invent anything.

s it your opinion today, as it was
when you wrote the book, that the Piri
Reis map could have been drawn only
from the ai
VON DANIKEN: No, absolutely not My
opinion is that some parts of the map,
especially Antarctica and the islands, аге
1 great mystery.
PLAYBOY: What about the iron column in
Delhi, India, which you write has resisted
rust for thousands of years and is made of
“an unknown alloy from antiquity." In
fact, that column does have rust on it
nd the process by which it was made
is well understood. Do you still find it
mysterious?
VON DANIKEN: No, not anymore. But when
I wrote Chariots of the Gods? the infor-
mation I had concerning this iron col-
umn was as I presented ce then,
€ found that investigations were
made and they came to quite different
results, so we can forget about this
iron thing.
PLAYBOY: Those investigations had been
made even before you wrote the book,
hadn't they?
VON DANIKEN: 1 didn't know of them. Even
if they were made, other authors, who are
listed in my bibliography, said the same
thing 1 did, and some of those authors
re very serious, quite well known,
PLAYBOY: Chariots of the Gods? has heen
through a number of editions; have you
made any effort to correct these errors?
VON DANIKEN: Oh, God, I have so many
times tried to correct things, and my ex-
perience has been that the corrections
are almost never made. Or it

don't know, maybe a ycar and a half and
about 20 letters to get it don
these modern ways of prim
tograph the whole page and it goes into
a machine. I have sent four letters to
various publishers asking to make cor-
rections and 1 see that, even in the
fourth edition of some of my books, still
nothing has been changed. It's a catastro-
phe. But usually I do it in following
books. For example, in the most recent

one, called My World in Pictures, there
а brand-new text and I correct things

from the е: r books.

PLAYBOY: Arc you familiar with a prin-
ple in science called Occam's razor? It
means, generally. that if two expl
tions will account for something, you
ought to give preference to the simpler.
For example, if you throw a snowball
and it knocks off a man's hat, you con-
dude that the snowball did the job, not
that a host of invisible angels came down
and plucked away the hat just as the
snowball arrived. What do you think of
that as a working principle?

VON DANIKEN: Here we must not forget
that the question—which explanation is
ally simpler—is always a question of
date. Up until a few years ago. when we
w cave paintings of men with helmets
and halos and all, it was simpler to say
they were ceremonial headgear of a reli-
jous cult or something like that. But
today we have space travel and we know
how helmets look. Isn't it fair to ask if
that explanation is simpler? With my
eyes today. I no longer think the expla-
nations offered by anthropology and ar-
chaeology arc the simple ones,

PLAYBOY: You wrote in Chariols, “We can-
not possess the truth; at best we can be-
lieve it" What did you mean by that?
VON DANIKEN: 1 meant that there is no
final proof; there are only i ns.
Some of the indications I have in my
books may be completely wrong, abso-
lutely wrong. But we have never made
excavations beneath the pyramids or
some of the other monuments. Why not
try to do it, if only to disprove this guy
Von Däniken? When my critics say, for
instance, there is no reason to bring in
anci s to explain these mon
uments, I'm afraid I must say they don't
know what | know about some of the
sites. They know only what archaeologi-
cal books tell them. They have not been
there and seen the things I have. Those
gs aren't in the books because
cologists who write the books
nk they're important, but in my
eyes they are important. The archacolo-
gists have a different way of thinking from
mine. What's the truth? I don't know.

I am accused of ignoring scientific
facts. But scientists believe their facts are
facts because other scientists told them
so. Now 1, with my own theory, came to
the conclusion that they were wrong.
There are only a few of us working on

са

1 амтопа

my theory, and it's like a war we have to
- First wc must change the minds of
the public, especially the young girls and
boys in high schools and universities, so
that when they come to the scientists they
look at the facts with new cyes. One
or two generations will p. ybe to-
days truth will no longer be the truth
tomorrow.

И I gave you a list of hundreds of sci-
entific “truths” of 50 years ago. we could
sec how few are still thought to be tue
Guys like Darwin—I don't want to co
pare myself to such a nice gentleman, but
it was always someone like Darwin
against 2 whole world of so-called scien-
tific facts. He had to doubt them. If you
don’t doubt them, you're at a standstill.
And 1 think people are beginning to do
that. In Toronto last December, I had a
great debate on TV. That was the name
of the program, The Great Debate. My
opponent was Dr. Ruth Tringham; sh
a Harvard. professor of anthropology

On this program. first she was allowed
to attack me for six minutes. I didn't get
to say anything. She crushed me down
completely. Then I got five minutes to
reply, like in court. I did that, and then
there was a commercial. During the
break they put our chairs closer together,

last 20 minutes, th ence asked ques
tions. And at the end of the hour, the
audience voted who had won. Dr.

This was a diverse audience, with
number of scientific people, and I think
it's really very interesting that I came out
against a Harvard professor with a differ-
ence of only 120 to 112. I was able to d
molish the audience's certainty that she
had the truth about the development of
man. I did this talking about my theories
in a calm and sober way, not saving
things 1 couldn't prove. But you know,
some scientists criticize my first book bi
cause of its style of writing. 1 had no
choice, however. I am not a scienti
man, and if I had w
book, it would e been cilm
and nobody would talk about ii
PLAYBOY: Perhaps another reason scien-
tists dislike your books is that you get so
many simple things wrong. You say the
book of Genesis reports the creation of
the Earth “with absolute geological accu
cy.” According to Genesis, the oceans
were formed before the stars and d
whole process of building the Earth and
the universe took four days. Is that abso-
lute accuracy, in your opi
VON DANIKEN: No. по, cer
J mean is that in Genesis, water comes
first, then the land, then plants and

(concluded on page 151)

WHAT SORT OF MAN READS PLAYBOY?

A young man of today looking forward to tomorrow, who appreciates the best yesterday has to offer.
With confidence in his sense of style, the PLAYBOY reader is first with the newestlook—even when it's
inspired by an older one. Helping him make the right fashion moves is his favorite magazine. Fact:
PLAYBOY is read by nearly half of all young men who spent $500-plus on apparel in the past year.
To make itin today's fashionable young market place, put yourself in PLAYBOY. (Source: 1973 TGI.)

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

VENUS
» OR THE
VIRGIN?

fitim By SEAN OFAOLAIN

ah, the mysteries of the mediterranean mind,
wherein every virtue is woven into its opposite

SOMEBODY ONCE ВАШ that a good prime minister is a man who knows
something about everything and nothing about anything. I wince
an Amcrican foreign correspondent, stationed in Rome, covering
Italy, Greece, Turkey, Corsica, Sardinia, Malta, Libya, Egypt and
the entire Middle East. For example: Last year Ї was sent off to
report on pollution around Capri, steel in Taranto, which (as jour-
nalists say) “nestles” under the heel of the peninsula, the Italo-
American project for uncovering the buried city of the Sybarites,
which is a third of the way down the coast from Taranto, the

‚ political unrest then beginning to simmer in Reggio di Calabria,

around the toe of the continent, and, of course, if something else
should turn up—some “extra dimension,” as my foreign editor in
Chicago likes to call such unforeseens. . . . Summer was dying in
Rome, noisily and maledorously. Down south, sun, silence and

PLAYBOY

- It was such a welcome commission
t it sounded like a pat on the head for
past services. I was pleased.

I polished off Capri in two hours and
Taranto in three days—a well-document-
«d subject. After lunching at Metaponto,
now one of 1 o's more scruffy seaside
resorts, I was salubriously driving along
the highway beside the Ionian’ when,
after about an hour, "something else"
did crop up. It happened in a place too
minute to be called a village, or even a
hamlet, an Italian would call it a шо
guecio (a rough litle place), named. Bus-

I doubt if m not
es of these parts of Calabria have
ever voluntarily halted in Bussano—bar-
ring Karl Baedeker some 100 years or so
ago, or the modern Italian Tou
guide, or a weary Arab peddle
Touring Club guide is eloquent about it.
He says, and it is all he says: “At this
point the road begins to traverse a series
of monotonous sand dunes.” Any guide
as reticent as that knows what he is not
pout.
по consists of two lots of hoxels
ng each other across the highway, one
backing on that wild stretch of the Cala
brian Apennines called Sila, the other
on an always empty ocean; “always”
because th bor south of

lew rocks edging the vast
Ionian. I presume that during the winter
months the Ionian Sc; ken by
southwesterly gales. In the summer, noth-
ing happens behind those monotonous
nd dunes except the wavelets moving
а foot inward and a foot outward so softly
that you don't even hear their seesaw
and you have to watch carefully to see
the marks they leave on the sand, which
is so hot that it dries as soon as it is
touched. The luoguccio looked empty.
"Ehe only reason I halted there was that
1 happened to notice a the few
hovels on the seaside of the road a two-
storied house with a line of brown-
nd-ycllow sunflowers lining its faded
gray-pink walls. On these, high up.
could barely decipher the words ALsERGO
DEI stparitt. The Sy ites’ Hotel. It must

mong

and horses, or by pri
carriage, or in later years by the

1 along the coast that prese
starts to worm its slow way up through
those mountains that climb 7000 fect to
the Serra Dolcedorme, where, I have been
told, snow may still be seen in May. It
was the same informant who told me
about a diminutive railroad in this deep
south—could it be this oue?—grandiosely
calling itself La Società Haliana per le
Strade. Ferrate del Mediterraneo—Roma,
500 miles from the smell of Rome
barred by the Apennines from the Medi-
terrancan. The Albergo Sibaviti
could have Hourished in the youth of

dei

1 was about to move on when T glanced
between the hotel and its nearest hovel
t a square segment of sea and horizon,
teasingly evoking the wealth of centuries
below its level lince—Greece, Crete, By-
zantium, Alexandria. Once again I was
about to drive off, thinking how cruel
ıd how clever of Mussolin nd
how economical, to have silenced his in-

tellectual critics (men like, for instance.
Carlo Levi) simply by exiling them to
remote spots like this, when an odd-

g you n came through th
passageway, halted and looked up
a the highway with the air of
n with nowhere to go and пой
to do.

bearded and long:
you like mushy

cheeks tenderly brow ed, Under his
hung chin he wi пес blob of
tie like a 1th Century romantic pe
shirt gl
whom): shoes atly polished. (by
whon s knife-pressed (by whom?)
on his head a cracked үпу straw
hat that just might have come many years

ago from and he carried
smooth ss knob. His
shaven jaws were blackberry blue. His

users W

jacket was black velvet. F e
purple. All in all, overdressed for a region

where the men may (or may not) wear a

cotton singlet but never a shirt, except on
Sundays, apart from the doctor. if there is
one, or the teacher, if there is one, or the

То iundowner, 1 there is

ol them, What оп
a visitor, at this time of the year and in
this nonplace. An adolescent poet? More

likely an absconding bank clerk in dis-
guise. (Joke. In places like this, the sand
hoppers for 50 miles around are known
by their first names.) The local screwball?
I alighted. He saw me. We met in the
middle of the road—the roads down here
arc wide and fü I asked him if he might
be so kind as to tell
if it were п
lost city of the Syb
straightened his
cagerly, rapidly

. find the
ites. At once he
g back, replied
d excitedly, “T

t too m

ag a dirt track
re you from

I show you my pictures

Well, I thought, this is odd, I am on
42nd Street, Division, Pigalle, the Ca-
scine, the Veneto, Soho. Pompeii, show
me his dirty pictu what next? His
sister? A pretty boy? C; bis? Americ.
cigarettes? I told
salesman from C

as he fu.
ed himself.
at painter I
s ago to devote

the lock, he expla

“Dam a Roman 1
сате down here two ye:
my lile to my art E have b

for years for this

professor of fine arts

from New York bought f

gs last week for
1 knew this la

open the door on three
deep lines of paintings stacked around
e were no canvases,
ostly used chip board or ply
wood. His d ed the same
subject, mustard-yellow sunflowers against
blue sea, cach of them a very long way
after Van Gogh, each the same greasy
blob of brown and yellow, cach executed
(appropriate word!) in the same three
colors straight fom the tube—chrome
yellow. burm umber, cerulean. blue—
h here and there as the fancy had
aken him. a mix of the three in a hoarse
ge ive's spittle. Thi
were the most supremely splendid, per
fect, god-awful e:
ever s
silence, I knew th
one of them immediately.
Snobbery? A kinky metropoli
I know the feeling too well not t0 know
its source in compassion and terror. T.
me bad art is one of the most touching
ıd frightening examples of self.delusion
n the world. Bad actors, bad musicians
bad writers. bad. painters, bad anythin
amd nor jux the in-betweeners or the
borderliners but the total, desperate. ir
redeemable f.
come

at I simply must possess

ures.

Those
med pictures in paper elbow
rds displayed for sale in the foy

of big co ls or in big r
road ter
even worse "
railings of public parks in the summer.
Those reproductions that form part of
the regular stock of novelty stores that sell
china cuckoo clocks, nutcrackers shaped

forever stalking across the desert into
a red-ink sunset. Three stretched-neck
geese lying over a reedy lake into thc
dawn. That jolly medicval friar holdi
up his glass of supermarket port to an
ed window
briglit as a Bü ieratt electric bulb.

We know the venal type who markets
these kitsch objects and we know that
they are bought by uneducated people of
no taste, But if one accepts that these
are sometimes not utterly devoid
ll and are on the
s them? Looking into the
eyes of this young man
sano (who, insofar as he had no least
skill and no least taste, was the extreme
example of the type), 1 felt once again
the surge of compassion and of fear that
is always the prelude to the only plaus
ble answer | know: that he was yet

(continued on page 71)

ige of taste, wl

“My wife! My liquor! My best friend! My baseball glove!"

OWN _,
ў 2 ugor 3

ee ms sweetly sensuous
Lond ry

name for rock singer
claudia lennear

войт а year ago.
some of our staffers, out for
a night on the town, һар:
pened to catch Claud
Lennear performing in а
Chicago night club—and
they decided that we just
had to get some pictures
of her into the magazine
With her clothes off, natu
rally. Just for the record—
in case you've been hanging
out in Antarctica—Claudia
is a rock singer of un
bounded spirit and as much
pedigree as you could ask
for: She spent two years on
the road with Ike & Tina
Turner; she's sung back
ground on records by Dave
Mason, Freddie King, De
lancy & Bonnie, José Feli
ciano and a lot of other
people: she was part of the
Mad Dogs & Englishmen
caravan that starred Joe
Cocker and Leon Russell
(last year she was in the stu.
dio audience for Russell's
special оп the educational
TV network, and a lot of
people thought she stole
the show just by sitting
there and responding—en
etgetically—to the music)
Though she doesn't broad.
cast inlormation about her
personal involvements, at
one time, Claudia was ro
mantically linked, as rhey
say. with Mick Jagger
Her first response to our
invitation—to pose for us—
was negative. As you can
see, though, she eventually
changed her mind We
asked why one morning
during her week of photo
sessions, We were sitting in
the living room of Hugh
Hefner's Chicago Mansion.
talking and sipping coffee

The tape recorder was
turned off, at Claudia's re
quest; she's a high-strung

Like Brown Sugar, Leon Rus
зей song She Smiles like a
River moy hove been inspired
by Claudia. Right: Onstoge,
Claudio—with her band—puts
on quite a show, dancing,

ing ond, above all, drama:
tizing the stories in her songs.
“That's the most important
thing,” she says, “to get the
story across—simply, but with
feeling—and, of course, with
plenty of musical excitement.”

person who doesn't like
listen to her own records—
and, paradoxically, is so
self-critical that she con-
siders herself too much
so. which is about as self-
critical as you can get.
"Why am I here?” she re
peated. “That's the ques
tion of my life. I've got so
many selves, 1 don't know
which is the inner опе
and whichever one prompt
ed this, 1 haven't any idea."
She went on to say that
since she'd never modeled
before, she was "a litle
uptight” at first: “It feels
weird to sit there in a chair
with everything hanging
out. But it’s just another
form of expression, really.”

If you get the impression
that Claudia is self-con
scious, you're right—but to
call her that wouldn't be
doing her justice. Her mind
is like a set of interfacing
mirrors: She watches people
watching her. and watches
herself watching them, Cu-
riosity, as much as anything
else, brought her here. Sev
eral times during the inter
view, she remarked on what
а "trip" it was to be here
and once—glancing around
at all the storied opulence
of Hefner's house—she
wondered "if I really re
spect all this or not

We began the

sation by ask about

her past, but she did
(concluded on page 154)

PHOTOGRAPHY BY DE

PLAYBOY

VENUS OR THE VIRGIN?

another dreaming innocent who believed
that he had heard the call to higher
things. His type must be legion: young
boys and girls who at some unlucky mo-
ment of their lives have heard, and alas
have heeded that far-off whir of wings
and that solitary midnight gurgling song
once heard, so they have been told, in
ancient days by emperor and clown, the
same that flung magic casements open

on the foam of perilous seas and faer:
lands forlorn. The frightening part of
is that there can be very few human
beings who have not heard that voice in
some form or another. If we are wise. we
either do nothing about it or do the least
possible. We join something, send a sub-
scription, vote, are modest.

I offered him a cigarette: I felt like an
officer in charge of a firing squad: not
that 1, or anybody else, ever can kill such
lethal innocence. As he virtually ate the
cigarette, I saw that his eye sockets were
hollowed not by imagination but by star-
vation. He was a living cartoon of the
would-be artist as a young man who has
begun to fear that he may not be the one
and will certainly new in be the
other. To comfort him. 1 irresponsibly
said, “You might one day become the
Van Gogh of Calabria,” to which he said
quickly, "I sell you any one you like
cheap." Should I have said they were all
awful? I said I liked the one that, in
characteristic burlesque of the real by
the fake, he had labeled Occhio d'Oro,
Mar’ Azzuro. "Golden Eye, Azure Sea.
Whereupon he said, "Fifty dollars." and
I beat him down to two. As he pouched
the two bills, I asked him what he was
proposing to do with all that lovely
money. He laughed gaily—the Iwal
poor really are the most gutsy people
the world. as well as the most drea
deluded— "Tonight I will bring my wife
to the hotel for two brandies to cele-
brate my first sale in two years. It is an
omen from heaven for our future.

All this and a wife, too? I invited him

imo the hotel for a beer, served by a
drowsy slut whom he had imperiously
waked from her siesta. 1 asked him about
his wife.
"Roman," he said proudly. "And bor-
ghese. Her father works in a bank. She
believes absolutely in my genius. When
we married, she said, 'Sesto'—1 was а
sixth child, my name is Sesto Caro—'T
will follow you to the end of the
word." He crossed two fingers. "We
are like that." He crossed three. “With
our child, like that. The first, alas, was
stillborn.”

(The harm innocence can dol)

He said that he, also, was a Roman.
And he was—he knew the ER as well as
I do, and I have spent 20 years living
there as a nosy reporter. 1 found him in
every way, his self-delusion apart, an

ап

(continued from puge 68)

honest young man. He agreed that he
had done all sorts of things. Кип away
from home at 14, done a year in the gal
leys for stealing scrap, returned home,
spent two years in a seminary trying to be
a monk, a year and a half in a trattoria
in the Borgo Pio, was arrested and held
for two years without trial for allegedly
selling Cannabis, released, spent three
years in Germany and Switzerland to
mike money for his present project, re-
turned home, was apprenticed as an elec-
trician’s assistant. . . . He was now 2
She was now 21. When she was turned
off by her father, they had come down
here to beg the help of her godfather
uncle Emilio, an engineer living in what
I heard him lightly call "the Cosenza of
Pliny and Varro.” 1 looked out and up-
ward toward the Sila.

"Cosenza? A godfather so far from
Rome?”

"Emilio was exiled there by Mussolini
and never went back."

Unfortunately, or by the whim of the
pagan gods of Calabria—he contemptu-
ously called it H Far Ouest—h
then 19, and big with child, got diarrhea
so badly in Naples (“Pollution around
Capi that they finally tumbled off
the train at а mountainy place called
Cassano in the hope of quickly finding a

doctor there; only to be told as the toy

train pulled away into the tv
that the station of Cassano was hours
away from the village of Cassano, where-
as their informant, a carter from Bus-
sano, offered to drive them in one hour
to his beautiful village by the sea near
which (equally untrue) there was а very
good doctor. So, with their parcels, their
rdboard suitcases, their paper bundles
and bulging pillowcases, they had come
to this casale and stayed. Uncle Emilio
had visited them once. Her father
occasionally disbursed small sums of
money on condition that they stayed
where they were.

t valleys

We shook hands cordially, 1 gathered
my bad painting and drove off fast. 1
had walked into the middle of a story
and 1 had no idea what its end would
be. Murder? Suicide? If I could wait for
either, that could be a good something
else for Chicago. Not now. No lift. No
human story. and 1 looked cagerly alicad
of me along the straight highway to my
meeting with the skilled Iralo-American
techn ists at Sybaris.
About this, at least, Van Gogh was accu-
rate. After exactly three kilometers, I saw
the yellow-and-black sign of a gas station,
whose attendant directed me, without
terest, toward a dirt track leading into a
marshland of reeds and scrub.

As I bumped along this dusty track, I
could see no life whatever, nothing but
the widespread swamp, until I came
around a bend in the track and saw

ahead of me a solitary figure leaning
against a jeep, arms folded, pipe smok.
ing, well built, idly watching
proach. High boots to his knees, rid
breeches, open-necked khaki shirt
peaked cap, sunglasses, grizzled hair. In
his 60s? I pulled up beside him, told him
who and what I was and asked him
where 1 could find the buried city of Syb-
Immobile, he listened to me, smiled.
tolerantly, or it might be boredly, the
without speaking beckoned me with hı
pipe to follow his jeep. I did so until he
halted near a large pool of clear water
surrounded by reeds and mud. Some tei

feet under water there were a couple of
broken pillars and a wide half-moon of
networked brick.

“Behold Sybaris," he said and with
amusement watched me stare at hi
around the level swamp at the all secing
mountains and back to him again

You mean that’s all there is to see
of it?

you believe the common
legend, its enemies deflected its great
river, the Crathis"—he in turn glanced
westward and upward—"to drown it
under water as Pompeii was smothered
in volcanic ash. Crathis is now brown
with yellow mud. ‘Crathis the lovely
stream that stains dark hair bright gold.’
Euripides,” he annotated, and he smiled
apologetically.

“But the archaeologisis? I. was hoping
to find them at work.

He smiled unapologetically. He relit
his pipe at his ease.

“Where is the hurry? Sybaris has been
asleep a long time. They have finished
for this year. They have to work slowly.
They have been experimenting with
sonic soundings since 1964. They have
had to map the entire extent of the city
with their magnetometers. It is six miles
in circumference. But 1 am only an engi-
neer. Consultant engineer. Of Cosenza."

1 stared unhappily at the solitary eye
of the once largest and most elegant city
of the whole empire of л
1 recalled and mentioned an odd deta
that had stuck in ту mind's tooth, out
of, I think, Lenormant, supposedly typi
cal of the luxury of the city in its hey
day—its bylaw that forbade morning
cocks to crow earlier than a stated num-
ber of hours after sunrise. He shrugged
dubiously. 1 did know that it was Lenor-
mant who 100 years ago looked from the
foothills of the Sila down at this pl;
and saw nothing but strayed bulls. long
ce gone wild, splashing whitely
marshes. The engineer said he had been
much struck by this legendary picture.

"Legendary? You are a skeptical man."

ways pos-
ness of
myths growing out of myths. Along the
coast there at Crotone, my wife, as a
girl, walked to the temple of Juno. the
mother of the gods, in a procession of
(continued on page 192)

article BY WILLIAM MURRAY

“ні, HONEY, how tall are you?"

“Five, two.”

“Good. Tomorrow you're ап ape.”

he alarm gocs off at five л.м. and by
ten after, Otis Pembroke has the coffee
plugged in and is standing in front of his
bathroom mirror, shaving. The call is for

seven o'clock on location at Hollywood
Park, the race wack that under normal
conditions is a half-hour drive from Otis’
little cracker-box house in West Holly-
wood. Otis. however, always allows him-
self enough. time, and so, in 29 years of
this work, he's been late or failed to show

up for a job only twice, once when his
car broke down on the Santa Ana Free-

ILLUSTRATION BY SHARLEEN PEOERSON

way and on the day his wife died. This
morning he's tired and looks it. The day
before, he played a reporter ("European
type—neat hair—wr. own fall bus. suit—
topcoat and hat—off-white shirt”) on a
pilot Universal was shooting and they'd
started and worked late. Jt had been a
nervous time, too, because, between takes
that called for (continued on page 78)

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Y ед

By Robert L. Green
ht to what man has been keeping a dark secret

PLAYBOY

ATMOSPHERE PEOPLE лего» page 75)

him to walk briskly down the corridor of
а European hospital,” he'd had to dash
across the set to the pay phones and call
the casting agencies for work the follow-
ng day. It had cost him 51.10 in dimes
and 11 tries at three different offices be-
fore he'd landed this job:

water on his face, that this morning he
must look every minute of his 62 years.

By six he’s out of the house and feeling
a lot beuer. He's wearing one of his best
gray suits with newly widened lapels, һе
has combed his full head of dyed-blond
hair in a neat part and smoothed a little
rouge onto his checks. When he practices
smiling into the rearview mirror of his
1971 Mercury. his capped teeth gleam
back at him and his light blue eyes spar-
kle. It's a cold, drizzly day and he drives
carefully, avoiding the freeway and pos-
sible delay in early-morning rush-hour
trafhe. He'll be, as always, a few minutes
early, Otis knows that, of the 45 extras
called this morning to portray members
of a race-track crowd and provide back-
ground to the foreground doings of the
featured players in this particular seg-
ment of Universal's Banacek series, he
and a handful of others will form the
nucleus of good atmosphere people (as
opposed to mere bodies) who will make
the director, the producer and the studio
happy. Though he may never get to
speak a single line, Otis Pembroke knows
how important he is to the success of any
picture or TV show. Unlike many of his
colleagues, he doesn’t mind the old term
cxtra, which implics something
needed. Quite a few of Otis’ friends in
the business are even ashamed of being
called background or atmosphere. but
Otis isn’t. “If we're not there, you
us,” he says. “We're like the furniture.
You can’t do without us.” In his own
world, Otis Pembroke is a star.

FIONA GUINNESS: “When I first got to
Hollywood five years ago, 1 had no
money at all. I existed on a cup of coffee
a day and ate at parties. Then I worked
in Vegas as a topless showgirl at The
Mint, I toured as a Polynesian dancer. 1
made eight independent movies, includ-
ing a couple of really vile ones, and 1
had all sorts of incredible jobs, like pack-
ing ants. I finally got into the union six
months ago and 1 average only two or
three days’ work a week, but I'm so used
to not having money it doesn't bother
me. What's really odd is to be considered
subhuman, even by the people who are
kind to you. It’s an experience to be
treated like a lump of shit.”

Otis arrives at Hollywood Park a good
20 minutes early and has по trouble

not

finding the Banacek company. whose
trailers and equipment trucks are parked
beside the grandstand near the finish
Jine. 105 still drizzling and misty and the
empty stands loom gloomily over the
grass infield and the dirt-brown wack
over which a couple of dozen harness
hores are working out, clipclopping

heedlessly past the box section where the

Banacek crew is setting up for the d
shooting. The harness horses at Holly-
wood Park race at night, so the Banacek
unit will be able to film until late after-
noon, if necessary. Otis is among the
first of the atmosphere people to show
up, but Randy Henry, the pretty new as
sistant casting director from Central, is
alveady there, getting ready to check the
extras in and make sure they're on time.
Randy was once an aspiring pop singer,
has worked quite a bit as an extra herself
1 knows the ropes well, but her new
job is not going to endear her to some of
her old cronies. She has the power to
send people home for not being on time
or for wearing the wrong clothes and she
has to listen and sometimes act on all the
ints of the assistant directors at
the various studios’ central casting serv
ices. “Randy, how nice to see you,” Otis
says as he checks in. “How do you like
your new job?”

“I hope everybody's on time today.
Randy says, looking worried. “I had a lot
пиз yesterday at Universal."
what he knows all too well,
that a lot of the A.D.s. who are in charge
of the extras, really don't like them. An
angry A.D. can make an extra’s life miser-
able. by keeping him from the phone or,
especially, by making him sit around the
set all day waiting for a scene not sched-
uled to be shot for hours. “Still, a lot of
the complaints I get are justified,” she
says. She tells Otis about the two guys on
Kojak who were supposed to be New
York City detectives in midwinter and
showed up without hats or coats, about
the extra on Emergency who claimed
that it took special ability to push a
stretcher down a corridor and hassled
the A.D. all day long for a ten-dollar
bump in wages, about the way some of
the people hired on Ironside hid in dark
corners where they could sleep or play
cards unmolested and had to be repeat-
edly hunted up before takes. "I guess
I'm going to make a lot of people mad at
me," Randy says, “but this kind of thing
makes everybody look bad. Why can't
they even dress right?”

Otis knows exactly what Randy
means. There are currently about 3000
paid-up members of the
ld, but only about a third of them
g really hard to make
ng. These are the atmosphere people
who make the calls and show up not
only on time but also in the right

creen Extras

clothes. A rcally complete wardrobe is es-
sential to any extra and Otis, like all the
conscientious old-timers, has cosets and
trunks [ull of garments, including all
kinds of tuxedos, cutaways, riding habits,
ranch and ski and Palm Beach clothes,
plus such accessories as topcoats, silk
hats, mufflers, canes and gloves. In addi-
jon, he can dress up as а chauffeur,
a waiter, a mailman, a doorman, a ranch
and and 16 kinds of policeman. Some
of the younger men have motorcycle
cops uniforms and the machines to go
with them and they like to go out on
calls in full costume, which creates a lot
of tension on the freeways. The studios

ntal for special costume items and
figures that his wardrobe is

in demand.

PAULA Gust: "Make-up and costumes
are my hobbies, which is how J got to be
an extra. I flipped for Planet of the
Apes and I did а whole exhibit in full
ape makeup at a sci-fi convention in
L.A. and I was sent to see Arthur Jacobs.
the producer. I'm sitting there in his of-
fice, a complete puddle of eyes. and he
es me for this last one, Battle for the
Planet of the Apes. 1 played a human
slave and ended up with two dose-ups. I
like being an extra. but I'd give my right

arm to be a stunt double. I do high falls,

fights, trampolin, tumbling, swim, drive,
horseback ride. ГЇ do anything and TU
try anything.”

Otis sees his old friend Bob Whitney
and they have a cup of coffee together
under the grandstand. Whitney is about
Otis’ age and has been in the business al-
most as long. Like Otis, he originally
had other ambitions (he was once an
agent in New York) and sort of drifted
to extra work in the Forties. Otis, too,
had a showbiz background; he was a
song-and-dance man in vaudeville, an
actor on Broadway, a bit player in mov.
ies. Then he took a number of white-
collar jobs but couldn't make it in the
straight world. "I tried a lot of other
things." he says, "but it kept gnawing at
me. Performing is in my blood and be
coming atmosphere was a way to keep
working."

It’s already clear to both Otis and
Whitney that it will be quite a while be-
fore anyone starts working today. The
crew has been setting up upstairs, but no
one has yet seen the director, Herschel
Daugherty, and the prop truck is lost or
tied up in trafic somewhere. One of the
A.D.s, a young guy with a droopy mus-
tache, has also been complaining that
the call sheet and pay vouchers for atmos
phere haven't arrived either. which is
going to make Randy's job even tougher.
“It's just like the Army,” Whitney says

(continued on page 90)

“I'm glad you're not insisting, Herbert, because I really am tired.”

^ BASIC PROBLEM existed from the beginning
between Spook the trumpet player and four
other members of the band. The problem didn’t
exist between Spook and the two other horn
players, Flash and Wolfman, because these three
had been together for so long that they were like
brothers. In fact, Spook and Wolfman had the
same mother and father. This basic problem led
to his being called Spook. 1 will illustrate the
problem: The motel room was located in Jack-
son, Mississippi. Spook, who was so thin it some-

times took two full-grown men to see him on a
clear day, had just flown in from the Fast Coast
for this job. He knocked on the motel-room
door. Wolfman opened it, put his arms around
Spook in a hearty abrazo and placed in Spook's
mouth the stem of a pipe (made from the thigh-
bone of a steer) that had been stolen or bought
somewhere between Elko and Mount Rainier
the previous spring. In the pipe was a small
silver-blond nut of hashish, brought all the way
from Turkey by a diminutive drummer carrying

article

BY LAWRENCE CONFALCS

a bunch of heavily armed, drug-mangled texas
bandits set out to win the west again—between gigs

PLAYBOY

an overweight set of tabla.

“Tremendous rush coming down here,
Spook said, sucking on the pipe, holding
his breath and trying to talk at the same
time. "Every other seat on the plane was
occupied by some of Government
agent or other. Mississippi must be the
place where they have their most secret
installations. I've seen garbage trucks
heading for Mississippi and always won-
dered why. [Suuuuck!] Now I know. The
nuclear reactors. Powered by [Ssssuuk!]
garbage. Cheapest way to control things:
hoard power. Garbage power." He passed
the pipe to the drummer, known as
Squinch because one of his eyes always
stayed closed—the result of an old street-
fight wound. "Glad to see you're still
alive, Squinch. Heard you had a serious
operation. Mind if 1 see the scar?”

Squinch rolled up his sleeve, revealing
a large гед апд blue tattoo of an anchor
with the legend мом underneath. "Got
it free from this huge spade fag who
gave it to me for fucking him in the
ass,” Squinch said, relighting the pipe.
Ray Charles was singing When I Stop
Dreaming.

“I assume there has been terrible op-
presion in these parts,” Spook went on.
“Are we armed and dangerous? Are we
on many secret lists? Has the black cloud
carried the sun away?”

“I think we're pretty cool,” Flash, the
alto player, said. “Right now I'm stoned
smooth out of my skull, if that's what
you're babbling about.

“Not talking, eh?" Spook said co
clusively, sitting down on one of his suit-
cases. "I guess I'd better go back to New
York, then.” He got up from where he'd
just sat down and picked up one of his
cases, leaving the rest behind. He walked
toward the door, but C8, also known as
The Hawk and The Thresher, pulled
him back in.

“You ain't goin’ nowhere, Spook, you
crazy motherfucker. Now, get that god-
damn trumpet out and play us some
notes.” C8 pushed him onto the couch
and laid his trumpet case in his lap.

"Can't play. Mouth's too dry. No busts
yet, huh? Well, there were at least fifty
agents on that plane and I wasn't too
cool. Reading Wallace Stevens the whole
time. Dead knock-off for some kind of
subversive sex-crazed dope fiend. They
know all the tricks.

"Are you зрее
lead singer, asked.

"Couldn't risk it, Cherokee," Spook
said, unsnapping his case, looking at the
trumpets inside, one silver, the rest lac-
quered bras, one cornet, one Flügel-
horn, lots of silver mouthpieces, rags, oil
botes, cleaning springs. "Love to be
speeding right now. Dog-fucking-tired.
But you know: too many evil dark
agents, too much paranoia. Reading
Rilke the whole way. Or was it Rim-
baud? What if they searched me? Got a
copy of Finnegans Wake in my bag.

ing?” Cherokee, the

What if they found that? I'd never see
the light of day again. Cards at the book-
store they make you sign when you buy
that fucker. Driver’s-license number, vot-
er's registration—everything. And if you
don't drive in this country, you're
automatically suspect. "The foul indus-
trial complex may be bad for the lungs,
bad for the eyeballs, bad for the liver
and possibly even the heart—but out
here, well, ii е back in the seventeen
hundreds. We're right now on the very
farthest perimeter of civilization. I saw
the woods when I carne in. Bears, snakes,
probably crazed bearded woodsmen with
antique shotguns . . . who knows? Can't
take any chances, though. Are we
armed?”

"We're ripped,” СВ said, “and you're
wigged. Spook, you spooky old coon.
How's that girl you was with up there?"

“Nancy Ann Bumer? Ronda Jo Bill-
ings? Diamond Lill? Priscilla Messenger?
Dale Evans? . . . All great Vassar coeds,
all slick as fresh cream. Which one
would you like to know about, Hawk?”

"He's wigged, all right Cherokee
said. “Take that pipe away from him.
He doesn't need it.

But Spook wasn't always like that. In
fact, most of the time he didn't say a sin-
gle word. Sometimes he would go days
without saying anything but key names
and song titles (and usually he left those
up to the other members of the band).
But when he talked. no one understood
what he was talking about.

A basic problem existed with the
whole band. Motel rooms were the prob-
lem. They had tried §200-a-night luxury
penthouses and "a buck twodWifty"
dumps on the outskirts of nowhere. They
had slept in doubles, singles, triples,
purples, duplexes, complexes, cabins,
courts, high-rises, low-rents, seaside, lake-
side, riverside, backside, outside, moun-
tain, desert, plain, salt Bat, tundra, forest,
downtown, uptown, midtown, small
town, big city, with color TV, black and
white, builtin alarm systems, lawn spr
klers, hot and cold running coffee, free
breakfast, no breakfast, swimming pool,
cesspool—they had slept, fucked, shit,
nearly died, recovered, shot smack, gone
off the deep end on acid, bathed, dressed,
rehearsed, fought, been busted, bored,
tired, sad, ecstatic—they had lived
these motels for 3287 more-or-less con-
secutive days and nights with only brief
intervals at home. Nine years.

And if anything became clearer, it was
that the motels were all the same. Get-
ting a motel room was strictly a holding
action. Sleeping in one was a nega
act; it was nonslceping. Eating in one
made you hungry. Drinking in one made
you sober, more aware than ever of the
essence of motelness. Music in motels in-
creased their basic silence. The water in
their bathtubs dried you like the desert
sun on a bare bone. Dressing in one made
you stark-naked. Crying in one made you

happy and laughing in one could break
your heart. The band spent a lot of time
just sitting in motel rooms to keep from
growing older, like science-fiction space
travelers can do going faster than the
speed of light.

But the problems were obvious. The
years piled up, the trace elements of
madness in the systems of the players
were mainly made of dangerous chemi-
cals, high-powered weapons, childhood
ideas that stuck.

"Where're we playin'?" Spook asked,
late at night in Jackson, after talking
himself out of leaving, talking himself
out of fear, exhausting his week's supply
of words.

“L.A,” someone said, a disembodied
voice in the silver-blue clouds of hashish
smoke. Perhaps Ray Charles said it:

So darlin’ please don't say naw to me
Until you've heard my story
You just might like my story girl.

“LA,” Spook said, the two sounds
completely without meaning for him.

"The big time," another voice said.
"Capitol Records. Whiskey A-Go-Go.
Bacon death. Sudden death. Painful
death. Semi-demi-quasi-pseudo death."
The voice was his own.

"We're going to L.A.," Wolfman said.

Look:

STEADY RAIN AND.
THE BIG-ASSED JUG HEIST

Coagulating into one expanse of dark-
ness, the massive storm clouds hunched
over LA. and fouled the already ugly
land. After a few weeks of this, the
moisture was inescapable. And months
later, in the spring of 1969, even those
who had fled in cars to their hilltop
homes came sliding back into the city as
the seeping water undermined those hills.
Under а hissing and cackling neon
sign, seven members of a Texas rhythm
and-blues band and their manager
moved about in a slow frenzy through
the limited space of a double room of
the motel. The fact that there was only
one bathroom was putting everyone on
edge. When they got up, they were al-
ready in bad spirits from sleeping in a
room meant for two people. They were
kept awake all night by Deacon, the
organ player, who had brought a girl
from the club and, behind a couple of
Preludin 75s, made a terrific racket, roll-
ing around on the floor with her and
bumping her bare ass against the other
bodies until well past dawn—though no-
body ever noticed the sunrise because of
a cloud cover so dense and oppressive
that people all over the city were begin-
ning to walk stooped over, as if the sky
were an actual weight on their shoulders.
“Severe body-image disturbance," Spook

mumbled, searching for a dry towel.
"What the fuck's he talkin' about?"
CB. asked, fumbling the powder out of a
(continued on page 86)

pop art's fair-haired
boy puts some of his favorite
people on polaroid

Allow us to introduce pop artist Andy
Warhol as а sociallion lensman who
seldom goes ahunting without his trusty
Polaroid. “It’s the quickest way fo get
an autograph," says Warhol. И also pro-
vided him with a way to do a shooting
for PLAYBOY of some new faces—and
figures—from his films. Why the instant
nude collages? Andy claims, "You can
get closer to your subject, one piece at
a time." Here is petite New Yorker Patti
D'Arbanville, of Warhol's Flesh, L'Amour
anda few flicks with Paris labels. Her next
movie: Frank Perrys Rancho Deluxe,
with Jeff Bridges and Sam Waterston.

Warhol describes his leading ladies
diplomatically: "They're all beautiful."
Here's more of Dominique and Patti,
top and right. Dalila Di'Lazzaro (cen-
ter) plays the perfect female crea-
tion in Andy Warhol's Frankenstein,
directed by Paul Morrissey. Noting a
streak of emulsion across Dalila’s thigh,
Andy sighs, "That's art.” The name of
his game is not Hollywood Squares.

PLAYBOY

BAND (continued from page 82)

Biphetamine capsule, spilling it on his
knee.

“Estoppels, preclusions,” Wolfman said.
"You know, man, plain ole jive-ass lit-
erary bullshit.”

“Never saw a literary bull,” Flash said,
standing stripped to his socks in the
closet, pushing clothes around.

“Anybody got any more deodorant?”
Cherokee hollered. "Turn down that
goddamn television.”

“That's the rad
“playin’ my man Sly's new thing.”

“Well, fuckin’ turn it down," Chero-
kee said. "Who's got the deodorant?”

"An armpit by any other smell,"
Spook said, “might make the difference
between a gold record and a mere hit.
We might, in fact, consider including an
armpit on our first record. Maybe have
a group armpit photo or something.

“Ain't gonna be no first record
don't get our asses in gear," the Mineral,
their road manager, hollered at everyone
in general.

int gonna be no record if C8
doesn't bring his bass line down a couple
of octaves instead of speeding so fast he
can't even put a bottom down," Squinch
was playing the bitch.

"Get off my ass," C8 said. "Mind your
fuckin' drums."
рате me your fuckin’ grief, Kemah,”
Squinch snapped.

As they searched for lost articles of
clothing and jewelry among the scat-
tered records and instruments, piles of
money and drugs strewn on every open
surface—as hair drying and combing
took place in a tangle of seemingly dis-
embodied elbows and as some attempt-
ed in vain to find a free patch of carpet
to stand on while getting the other leg
into a pair of pants—Squinch, the fire-
headed, leprechaun drummer who never
missed a stroke, kept on talking about
C's sound until they finally got into a
fight that culminated in С8'5 eating the
remaining black ones instead of sharing
them with Squinch.

But Squinch was so high-strung that
anything could set him off. Next to
music, his appearance was his greatest
concern, Around 3:30 in the afternoon,
hed begin fooling with his hair,
spraying, setting, combing, until it was
perfect. And when it wasn't perfect, he
wouldn't work. Once, on a gig in Bossier
City, Louisiana, a bird flew in through
the door of the club, up onto the stand
and right into SquindYs hair. This
freaked him so badly that he jumped
around, whooping and hollering for half
an hour. He had to be taken home. It
destroyed him.

Spook took so long in the shower that
Flash, who was already well geared from
three birthday cakes and half a pint of
tequila, ripped off his clothes and

Deacon said,

jumped into the shower to wash Spook's
back, scrcaming that if he couldn't do it
in 45 minutes, then somebody better
fuckin’ well help him. Spook, who main-
ly tried to stay in whichever place had
the fewest people, started screaming at
Flash to get out.

Flash was like that, totally uninhibited.
Sometimes the Spook might be taking
a big piss and Flash would burst i
and lean over his shoulder, saying, “I
wanna look at yer dick.”

It wasn't anything sexual. More than
anything, Flash liked to flash people out,
really jack with their heads, as he would
say, in any way he could, even if it
meant finding Spook reading in bed one
night and sending in this chick who'd
just given Flash a blow job. "Now,
honey, you just go in there and give the
Spook a big wet kiss.” And she did and
Flash popped in, saying very solemnly,
"Spook, m' friend. You just gobbled mah
goober!”

Wolfman was different. He couldn't
even stand to be seen by anyone when
he was undressed; and even though
they'd found a solution to the problem
of having only one bathroom, he wasn't
about to jump in with Flash and Spook
But the Mineral followed suit, mum-
bling that, as their official road manag-
er, he was obliged to advise them that if
he didn't get his shower by seven, they
wouldn't make it to the gig. On the wave
of a tremendous rush from the black
ones, CB (who was so called because th
was the shape of the knifemarks on hı
forearm) jumped in without bothering
to take off his suit, whose cheap coloring
began running in the warm water and
dyeing everyone's feet sky-blue. As the
counterpoints of purpose and confusion,
direction and chaos mounted and
reached heights whose precedents are set
in full-scale disasters, the rain sighed and
went on gnawing at the hills; and the
eight men went on swearing at one an-
other as they acted out the elaborate rit-
ual of grooming both the outsides and
the insides of their bodies, But they
managed to get themselves clean and
things settled back to the routine hyste-
ria of locating the proper chemicals to
take before venturing into the hideous
and dangerous world beyond the door.

This was the band, then, stone white-
niggers out of backwash Texas towns be-
tween Houston and Louisiana, who grew
up learning the important things in life:
to avoid work, to have a good time and
get as high as possible on whatever it
took; to get money, as much of it as pos-
sible, as fast as possible and in any way
possible. Their oldest member, Squinch,
was pushing the underbelly of 30. Spook
was only 20. But they all had two things
in common: They were all full-bore
thythm-and-blues musicians with a mon-

ster sound and they had come to L.A
with the promise and the hope that they
would make the big time. Connections
were set up. Contracts were in the works.
And so far all theyd gotten was the
broadside of a record-breaking rainfall.

At a quarter after seven, the eight men
stood under the narrow awning outside
the room, squinting at the rain, which
was expl
drops as it hit the asphalt parl
and washed out onto the Strip. Bi
colored sports coats, freshly starched Hi-
Boy shirts, patent-leather boots covered
by sharply creased bells, cuff links and
tie tacks as big as eyeballs and shining
like raindrops even in the failing neon
light were all part of the illusion that
kept the motel manager from recogni
ing the rip-off. Only the silent black
maid, who had given up trying to deci-
pher the disaster behind that door, knew
the truth.

The snow blue Cadillac, carrying the
band at close to 90 miles an hour toward
a night club on the swampy outskirts of
L.A., also suffered the misfortune of
having in tow a U-Haul trailer seven
months’ overdue in Conroe, Texas, and
paid for only by the signature of its cap-
tor, C8. Its driver on this night, known
as the Mineral for his daily habit of eat-
ing about 20 vitamin capsules, which
were sent to him in monthly supplies by
a company that claimed Olympic teams
used them, held a brown belt in karate
nd had some limited training in jujitsn,
Kung Fu, savate and thumb wrestling.
He, like C8, stood close to 6/4" and had
that look that grows on athletes who have
been separated from their sports, а sur-
face softness under which опе suspects
the vestige of a great strength. Squinch,
who had a temper like a leaf spring and
courage that had been worn away by
years of street fighting and contemplat-
ing his approaching middle age, was in
the habit of starting fights just to sce the
Mineral kick somebody's head across the
street quicker than most people could
clap hands The Mineral was a good-
looking, outgoing and very dangerous
man who, with his broad smile and mel-
low baritone voice, could talk tenpenny
nails out of a pine plank, as he demon-
strated later that evening, when the club
owner decided to pay the band half of
what had been agreed upon.

But the Mineral's negotiations took so
long that C8 had time to get pissed by
the fact that it wasn't some poor North
Side peasant trying to make a buck but
a rich West Coast fag. Because CB was
the kind of person who couldn't wait. If
he decided he wanted something, then
he couldn't rest until he had it, whatever
it was. He needed that Cadillac so much
at one point that he and some local
Houston boys threw a brick through the
window of a 7-Eleven, took the check-
writing machine and lit out. Then they

(continued on page 166)

modern living

Here's a trim little vessel that's good for racing,
cruising or just rocking away the night hours їп a соп-
genial port. Hirondelle, a trailer-transportable cata-
maran— by Symons Sailing, about $12,000— contains
three single berths, a dinette that converts to a double
berth, a galley, a head and mucho storage space. The
decks are nice and flat [sun bathers, take note), the sails
can be raised from the cockpit and the gasaline "shortage"
is one hassle that you can literally leave in your wake.

all the things you ever wanted to know

about fear but were too chicken to ask

COWARD'S
ALMANAC

humor By MARVIN KITMAN

“р

ICKEN LITTLE was assaulted
C with an acorn, mistook it for a
crumbling of the firmament and
spread a nasty rumor that led a
whole group of animal colleagues
on a pilgrimage to tell the king.
But before they could get there,
they were conned into following
Foxy Гоху to his cave... "And
they never came out again.”
Anyone who read this as a child
knows just how dangerous the
world is and should be ready to
meet all challenges with the most

powerful weapons available to him.

If, like most of us, you are a
master of that ancient martial art
the Cleveland Defense (aka
cowardice), this sporadic little

almanac could save your life
On the other hand, it might just
make you a lot more nervous.

January 19
This is a good day to take all your
zippers in for their annual checkup

February 29
Fear of not being sure that
today isn't March first

March 14
Fear of Blizzard of '88 and
Chromosome Damage Day
Chromosome fears:
* Fear of having fewer than
23 pairs
+ Fear of having more than 23
pairs (continued on page 146)

> ATMOSPHERE PEOPLE -onnea jrom page 78)

PLAYBO

“You hurry, hurry, hurry and wai
“Where are the phones?” Otis asks.
Whitney indicates a bank of six pay

phones in a corner. Nothing is more es-

sential to an extra than a telephone and
hustlers like Otis and Whitney will make

40 or 50 calls a day to get work, if they

have to. They call the five casting agen-

€ies—Central, Hollywood, Independent,

Allied and Producers—as well as the

casting directors at the larger studios

and any ADs with whom they've
achieved rapport over the years. No ex-
perienced extra ever leaves his home
without a pocketful of small change and
the first thing һе does when he arrives
оп a set is to locate the pay phones.

“The one at the far end is out of order,”

Bob says. Valuable information. if you're

competing to call in with dozens of other

people, but then, Bob and Otis keep few
secrets from each other after all these
years. “We go back quite a ways" Bob
says, "to when there were pictures shoot-
ing all year long and maybe twenty
thousand extras working
he business is nothing like it was.”

Otis says, “but so what? Even today, a

good, hustling extra can make four times

what a casual bit player earns.”

Which, Otis knows, isn’t saying much.
There are maybe 200 atmosphere people
who make between $6000 and $8000 a
year and no more than 50 who earn
twice that. A relative handful who work
as stand-ins for big stars can make really
good money, but thats hard dawn-to-
dusk slogging, with never a day off and
the boredom of the job itself to contend
with. It's not for the likes of Otis or Bob,
who enjoy the variety of what they do
and the daily change of scene. “Today
I'm a race-horse owner," Otis says. “Yes-
terday I was a reporter. The day before
that I was a doctor and last week I was a
stockbroker, an insurance agent, а juror,
a banker and a bookic's customer. I've
been everything. Two years ago, on a
Woody Allen picture, I was a sperm
swimming up a Fallopian tube.”

BARBARA SMITH and PETER EASTMAN:
"Pete and I met on an ocean cruise. I was
working as a social director and he was
playing in the band. We both love this
work, because you never know what's
going to happen. Yesterday Pete was
playing golf on Owen Marshall and 1
was a guest at a tony party on Barnaby
Jones.”

“The main reason I work extra is I got
tired of sitting around, waiting for the
phone to ring. It's true, I guess, that ex-
tras feel discriminated against, mainly
because we never get a chance to say a
line, but so what? There are no real
stars anymore. And we do get to act, you
know. Last week, on а Kojak, I had a
silent bit where I had to come out of an

elevator and bump into Telly
We like to feel we're being noticed, but
if you're watching us up there on the
screen, you're watching a lousy show.”
The call to work finally comes at 9:25,
when the A.D. with the droopy mustache
suddenly bounds down the escalator and
sings out, "Atmosphere, please!” They
all troop upstairs and the first A.D.,
a cheerful middle-aged black named
Rubin Watt, quickly gets everyone in
place. Two men in baggy blue ushers’
uniforms are told to stand at the top of
the aisles; the other extras are scattered
about the boxes surrounding the one to
be occupied by George Peppard, the star
of Banacek, and the actors playing the
scene with him. Otis and a young couple
are seated direcily behind them.
"Hey." one of the k
right. We might get a sil
"No way" Otis says "Today we're
strictly background.
“Ladies and gentlemen, you are
g а home гасе," Watt explains
megaphone, as two crew mem-
ss out old parimutuel tickets,

this is all

watd
through
bers pa

programs, tout sheets and racing forms.
“You'll see the horses as they turn into
the stretch.

I am the horses. When I
down this aisle over here,
d up and shout and cheer. As
the horses hit the finish line, some of
you are winners, some of you are losers.
Talk it up. throw tickets away, consult
your programs. Then some of you go up
the aisles, others sit down again» Just
don't get in the way of the actors. Got
hat?

“What about binoculars?” Otis asks.
Whoever heard of a horse race without
oculars?”

“The prop truck di
Droopy Mustache says. “We dug up all
this other stult on the spot. Fake it.”
How? By peering through my fingers

Watt laughs. "You're all farsighted!"
he shouts.

Otis turns to his companions. “Typi-
cal of TV.” he observes. “In the old
days, the prop truck would have made it
And look at this crowd—forty-five of us
including the ushers. What kind of au-
thentic atmosphere is that? De Mille
would have had thousands.

Peppard, looking gorgeous in dark
slacks and а light-blue sports jacket, ap-
pears, along with Ralph Manza, a regu
lar on the show. and two other actors.
They sit down in their box and Daugh-
erty, a gray-haired veteran who looks as
if he is barely surviving the ravages of a
very complicated night, leans in to give
them their instructions. What he says is
inaudible to Otis, who. like his col-
leagues, will never know either what this
particular scene or the whole show is
about. When Daugherty finishes, thc ac

Int make it"

tors nod and Watt raises his megaphone

he shouts.

se the scene twice. Oti:
watches the A.D. run along the aisle
toward him, becomes gly excit

ses to his feet, roots hard for his
horse, throws his papers happily into the
air, a winner, then ad-libs silent chatter
with the young couple, both losers, as
the actors speak and scuttle about in the
box in front of them, When Peppard
leaves and heads up the aisle the second
time, Daugherty says, “OK, the next
one's a take.”

Aunosphere, pay attention!
shouts. "Now watch me, please, and let's
have lots of excitement this time!”

Daugherty turns out to be a one-take
ector, which is a definite plus in tele
vision. “All right, atmosphere, please
everybody shift over to the left!" Watt
shouts, "We're shooting this way now

It will be another half hour at least
before they set up the next scene and
Otis finds time to chat in the aisles with
old friends. He doesnt know a lot of
the younger people anymore, but he's
pleased to note that the industry is, as al-
ways, g care of its own. There. lor
instance, y Marx, one of Groucho's
ex-wives, the blonde sitting off by herself
and looking very elegant in a beige out.
fit with a wide-brimmed floppy hat. And
two boxes away from her is Claire James,
one of the beautiful dolls who married
Busby Berkeley.

It’s really quite wonderful, Otis th
that so m es, friends and old
lovers of the famous, as well as the fa-
mous themselves, have been atmosphere,
though a lot of them wouldn't want to
talk about it much. Clark Gable, Gary
Cooper, Dennis O'Keefe, Rock Hudson,
Mary Tyler Moore, John. Wayne, Gene
Barry, Bob Fuller. O. J. Sinpson—yes.
1 atmosphere at one time or another in
their careers. “I don't bout not
being a star." Otis says
he's been in thirty, maybe forty pict
I've been in two thousa

CHARLENE GLAZER: “I stood in for Ra-
quel Welch on Myra Breckinridge. In
Airport 1 was a passenger on the plane
I've done everything from Ben Casey to
Billy Jack. I've always been hustled a lot,
but 1 сап usually handle it. I tell the guy
I'm known as the Jewish hooker and
hasn't he heard about my type? Jewish
hookers don't do two jobs for the price
of one and we don't take Blue Chip
mps, Green Stamps or credit cards
This usually works, but on Planet of the
Apes | got a sore ass. Somebody was
goosing me all day long, but I couldn't
see who it was, because ] was in this
goddamn ape suit.”

Otis has a fine nose for the lunch
break and he is spry for his years. When

(continued on page H8)

- the last time something:
| like this happened, `
- three wise men showed
` up from the east

fiction By CHRIS DICKEY

SHE MISSED her period
just about the same
time Kohoutek first appeared.
Marty had never used any
form of birth control.

She hadn't thought she needed
to. True, she was engaged,
but her relationship
with Joe was unusual.

He was an older man devoted
10 his art. Forms, shapes
and textures were his release.
Most times he wrestled
with abstraction, but after he
met Marty he had tried often
(continued on page 165)

PAINTING BY KERIG POPE

halfway up the hollywood
ladder, playmate jean manson
reflects ubon the lower rungs

[COR DUS
LINO WHEL
Fue E EAE e zm

DON'T WANT people to think I'm just

another dumb blonde," says actress-

singer—and now Playmate—Jean Man
son. ^So far, in my films, I've been cast in
roles like that, but someday I'm going to
change my screen image.” In real lile, of
course, although she most definitely
blonde, Miss Manson is anything but dumb.
Reared by artistic parents (her father writes,
her mother sings), Jean was educated at The
American School in Mexico and holds an
associate of arts degree in music, which
means she can do a lot more than whistle
Yankee Doodle through a mouthful of soda
crackers. In fact, she's proficient at classical
guitar and piano and is currently studying
flamenco gu Her career an actress,
however, is numero uno on her list of prio
ities—one notch ahead of even love and
marriage. "I don't feel I can give myself com-
pletely to a man at this point in my life," she
tells us, "because I'm simply too preoccupied
with my career and—well—1 suppose a good
part of me belongs to Hollywood. Before 1
seule down with one man, I have to be
master of my craft" Judging from her
professional tack record, she may be

A Libra, Jean likes to think af

herself as a balanced person. "I'm not
а jet setter,” she claims. "I'm very
down to earth, and so are my friends."

She's candid about her feelings,
especially when it comes to her
career goals. “I want to be a famous
actress someday. | have to b.

Before filming Dirty O'Neil (top left), Jean

is made up by Jerry Soucie. At left, she performs
the rope scene from the film and below she
discusses her nex! film with agent Sy Fishman.

ready to settle down soon. At 14, she studied acting at Metro in
Hollywood and in 1971 she made her first feature film, a not-exactly
classic called The World's Greatest Lover. (“1 have no idea what
happened to that film," she says. "I think the prints were stolen.")
Second was a horror film, Terror Circus, with Andrew Prine, and
next came The Young Nurses (“а bad exploitation film, but I got
some nice reviews out of it"). In her latest, Dirty O'Neil, Jean plays
a sexy waitress named Ruby, who, among other things. gets raped
by three men ("Since I've been accosted a few times in real life, I
just acted from experience"). Now in the filming stage, her new one,
Fortune Street, is a departure for Jean, since it's her first serious
movie. It's also a musical, which means she gets to sing—another
dream realized. If you haven't caught her on the big screen yet, you
may have seen her on the small one, either opposite George Peppard
in Banacek or as a contestant on The Dating Game ("I picked the
least of three evils; we went to the race track and I fell asleep").
Summarizing her three years as an aspiring actress, Jean has this to
say: “I have no regrets about my past films. It was all good experi-
ence and I learned a great deal. But I refuse to be just another B-
movie queen. I'm getting tired of taking my clothes off in movies.
Why do people always want me to take my clothes off?" Guess.

GATEFOLO PHOTOGRAPHY BY DWIGHT HOOKER,

"My love life is free and clear at

ihe moment," she says. "But I’m not a

run-around. I'm just not ready at this a
stage to be committed to anyone.” Ё

PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES

Two young suburban housewives who were
both enthusiastic gardeners were discussing a
new boranical theory.

"Do you really believe,” asked опе, "that
talking affectionately to a plant can make it
grow biggerz"

certainly до!" replied the other. "In my
perience, anything organic can be increased
in size by affectionate handling."

93
са Б

When а man asked the doctor to perform а
vasectomy on him, the physician, in accordance
with established medical practice, asked if he
had discussed the operation and i

man. “I'm sort of lukewarm about it myself,
but my wife persuaded me to put it to a vote
with the children.”

And what was the result?” asked the doctor
The kids favored it, nine to four.”

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines lesbians as
insurmountable odds.

Man's greatest inventions are few. . . .
Though pundits are prone to rate two
As vitally clever—
The wheel and the lever—
More essential by far is the screw!

And then there was the girl who left the pro-
nal orgy at the Sex Device Manufacturers
Convention with a vague feeling of unease. She
didn’t know what was eating her.

The aging judge paid a surprise visit to his
young mistress and caught her in a compromis-
ing position with a handsome attorney. En.
raged, the jurist demanded satisfaction and the
girl suggested an unusual type of duel: Each
man was to watch naked while she gyrated nude
front of them, and the first to show a physical
reaction would be the winner.

Soon after the competition began, the attor-
ney noticed that the judge was cheating by use
of some surreptitious hand play. "I object,
your Honor!” he exclaimed. “You're tampering
with the witness!”
dbjection overruled!” thundered the jurist.
“I was simply refreshing the witness’ memory.

His daughter had recently graduated from col-
lege and the Texas tycoon was showing her
through the private lodge he had had built for
her on the family's hunting-and.fishing ranch as
a surprise gift. As they went out onto the patio,
several muscular naked young men plunged
0 the swimming pool.

‘Oh, Daddy!" gushed the girl. "You've even
had it stocked for mel"

Our Unabashed Dictionary defines impeach-
ment as premature ejaculation.

The youthful pair were coupling when the po-
liceman’s flashlight suddenly illuminated the
back seat of the car. "Come on——" he began.

“Why, you prying pig!" exclaimed the girl.

“Now, just a minute——" grunted the cop.

"Screw yourself!” yelled the girl.

“If you don't keep а——" said the cop.

"Up yours!” screamed the girl.

“That does it!" roared the policeman.
“Break it up there, son. You're coming along
with me.”

"But Officer,” protested the youth, "I haven't.
said a word!”

"Thats true,” rejoined the сор, "but I'm
going to take you in anyway—for having an
offensive person on your weapon.”

We wonder how many of our readers remem-
ber the old-fashioned movie theater—where
the organ rose from the orchestra pit instead
of on the screen.

The booth at the benefit bazaar bore a sign that
read: KISSES $1 TO $25. "Is the гап price a
matter of duration,” a prospective customer
asked the young lady in attendance, "or per-
haps of lip pressure?”

"No," smiled the girl, “lip placement.”

One Saturday afternoon, a man’s wife came
home from a lingerie shop with a pair of frilly
imported $20 panties. She explained it by say-

“No,” snapped her husband, "and I wouldn't
expect to find gift wrapping around a dead
beaver, either!”

Heard a funny one lately? Send it on a post-
card, please, to Party Jokes Editor, PLAYBOY,
Playboy Bldg., 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago,
11. 60611. $50 will be paid to the contributor
whose card is selected. Jokes cannot be returned.

eT E NN

|
|

article by JAMESM LEY

DOWN AND
QUI AND
FEMALE

as if hustling drinks and johns for

a living isn’t bad enough,

there's always jail and the cops

There has to be a jail where ladies
go

When they are poor, without nice
things, and with their hair down.

When their beauty is taken from
them, when their hearts are broken

There is a jail where they must go.

THOMAS MERTON never met this lady
named Janice, but he knew her. Janice
1, and her face explains his poem.
htly puffy, her face, from a short
lifetime’s ration of sad country songs,
roadhouse beer and beauty banished
by both. You've seen it. Broad-browed
and narrow-chinned. Lips precisely two
thirds down, pouted there like swollen.
scars. Blackberry eyes. Orange-dyed hair
raw against complexion pale as cotton.
And, yes, without nice things.
ice wears a green prison smock and
a thigh-high cast on her right leg. She
looks as good as any lady can who's wait.
ing for her luck, though luck for Janice is
only a judge's choice of two or five years
for bad checks. “I took a fall" she
moans. That wasn't, of course, how she
broke her leg. She did that going over
12 feet of chain link and barbed wire
here at the city jail
Janice ran from its Lysol inhalations,
the poured-concrete dormitory's sleeping
shelves, the heads in curlers, Ше un-
shielded toilets, the incessant fluorescent
light and, most of all, from the waiti
with nothing to do, the waiting now
four months to be sentenced to more
waiting in another jail.

I broke my leg going back for my
girlfriend. She cut herself bad on the
barbed wire, but they didn’t even take
her to the hospital. And I got six more
months. They're not people.” Janice
looks down at her cast. Among the salut:
tions blueinked by the jail sorority

. scrawled in Bic Banana red, "Good
luck, kid."

Certainly Janice will need it, she and
lots of other women entangled with the

IAN PIPER | PUSH PIN STUDIOS

PLAYEOY

106

law arid its agents. They are a minority
on the make, a runaway problem, and
through their liberated beings courses
the searing seminal truth that as never
before they are prey to the state's legal
penalties and accompanying indignities.
In jail and out, in big towns and small,
whether black or white, women today
must writhe in the tension of society's
fundamental dichotomy— justice and in-
justice. Janice's predicament is simplest,
really, the most understandable. On
societys behalf, judges and juries and
cops and probation officers have defined
her. She is a convicted criminal, hair
down and defenseless, as common as a
high school sweetheart seen ten years too
late. She's one of the ladies who suffer
equally with men before the bar of jus-
tice. One who is incarcerated and so
leaves more men and children alone out-
side, because even shoplifters and ad-
dicts and accessories taking falls bear
children. One who has many jailed sis-
ters, like this black child who saunters
closer to us, her stud heeland-toe pro-
tecting softness the way a shell surrounds
a clam.

“Tell the man it aint so much the
time, it's the heat,” she says. "But shit,
dudes don't know." She signs the cast
“Love
she writes, and I ask what dudes don't
know. The question attracts more girls.

“Well, like, it's bad in here," Janice
says. "Worse than for men. This is no
hotel. There's nothing to do. So you
break a rule, one little thing the matron
doesn't dig, and you're into isolation for
three or four days."

"Who's gonna fix supper for my
kids?" the sauntering black girl asks at
n dances in the green
" her mouth makes an

with a Tina Turner flourish.

O, “who is?”

A doughy blonde in curlers doesn't
t's worse outside, honey. I was
drunk in public view, see? Four cops
picked me up, leaned me against a car
and felt me up. I got ninety days, but
you know what? When I get out, I'm
gonna get drunk again, but I'm gonna
stay inside to get felt up." She sighs and
reflects, "You know, cops got hands like
guns.

This brings the group to a babble.
They crowd around, each with some-
thing to say, something to do at last, all
these women, shaved and powdered,
with no place to go. “They don't trust
men and they don't trust women," onc
breathes at me. "Whatta they think, we
gonna screw there next to the barbed
wire?"

I know the prison superintendent
doesn't think that. He's a kindly man.
He favors connubial visits and high
school classes, unlimited phone calls,
lawyer visits, an adequate work-release

program, better food.—all the things this
clamor demands. But there isn't the
money for the programs, for the staff, he's
told me. Hell, yes, he wants it better in-
side, because he knows it's tough enough
for them outside. That's what a big black
woman is saying, eyes crackling above
scarred cheek:

"Goddamn, my windows and doors
come in at the same time, wham! The
cops, you dig, guns and all, and my kids
all there. Just ‘cause I drove the саг
Man, they wanted me to clear up three-
hundred burglaries, can you dig

Cacophony builds as a dozen v
sour stories from a hundred histories.

“They bust me, one cop cusses me,
frisks me nasty, so I kick him. Then he
slaps me so hard it hurts. Lying bitch, he
calls me. ...

“And they want to make deals, they
get you as a felon, see, and after that it's
all hassle. You waffle and zap! It's your
ass for resisting arrest or some such shit.
Or you make a deal, but a deal with
fuzz can cross you right out, just right
Gutes

"Right, and they want favors then.
big-time favors, or they гип you in.
“Course, when you're in, they want to,
ke, watch you shower. . ..”

"Across the river in that jail. they
turned the trusties loose in the women's
section, can you believe? Who listens if
you holler rape or no thanks or somc-
thing ... 2"

“Well. now, we don't need men, do we,
sweetie, in here? No, not much.

In this confusion 1 feel their vexing
judicial problem. Jt hums in their out-
rage, im the oscillation between their
crime and their treaument. Cuilt is one
thing, they're saying, and the process of
the law another. They're in a jail for
ladies and so de facto guilty, maybe de
facto poor and brokenhearted and un-
lovely. But not unhuman. And so they
bitch—surely thats the word—about
"hard-on" judges who, perhaps captives
of some Edenic dream, punish female of-
fenders as they would any dangerous
mutant strain. They revile arresting offi
cers who call them whore and cunt but
never ma'am and confirm their warden's
lament that women parolees often get
no job because employers believe the fe-
male the sneakier of the species, never
again to be trusted once the aura of
her gentleness dissipates in a jail's
ranker odor. Janice speaks quietly into
the. cyclone:
hey watched me and got me five
days before my parole was up. Five days.
For $233 in checks. I thought there was
money in the bank. Really, I did. Wow,
I get depressed a lot.”

She brings the group down. In the
buzzing light, the women mill and mur-
mur, looking each minute at the high

horizontal windows. Three wander off.
their minds now on Lincoln Continen-
tals and Cadillacs, which kind they
have when they get out. "I'm gonna start
at 1965 and work up,” one says, and, re-
signed again, all the green smocks drift
away to buff nails or write lawyers, to
read Harlequin romances or wash in the
concrete-doughnut trough watered by a
sprinkler. Pterodactyls could bathe in it
elderly woman, face blank as an un-
‚ sits in the hair-drying chair. It
could be electrified another way
for all she cares. Janice picks at her cast.

“When I get out, I'm gonna kill my
brother,” she says. "He set me up.”

"Think about that." A woman scowls
at Janice. Needle scars marble her arms
like choice beef. “Try not to." Sigh
“But then, in twenty years you'll proba
bly still be doin’ what you're doin’. Re-
habilitation, sheet. . . . You know this
therapy? Well, I been a junkie twenty
years. Now they're gonna make a new
me. They get you to tear at yourself. 1
got so screwed up mentally I almost got
hit by a bus comin’ from the probation
officer's. Why can't they just fix the
drug thing and leave the rest of me
alone?"

She asks Prometheus question, know-
ing that for her there is no answer, at
least not here. Nothing is fixed in here.
It’s time to go. They watch me leave as
though seeing a Greyhound go, as if all
things happen with the inevitability of
timetables. But someone plucks a sleeve.
She's baby-faced, with blue-black hair,
skin by Titian. Accused of car theft in
Oregon, but really out for a joy ride, she
says. She's 18.

“You should know, the cops, some of
them”

The junkie interrupts. “If you're a
hooker, they want a blow job; if you're
not, just a fuck. It ain't easy, being a
woman."

Little Titian blushes and nods, then
asks softly, “What sign are you?"

“Sagittarius.”

This cheers her. The matron says they
always ask that of visitors. 1 wonder if
they've got a horoscopic guest book, if
they keep it to check their luck against
the outside world’s. The matron doesn't
know. She looks like Randolph Scott in
a blonde nylon wig. Above her desk is a
Playgirl centerfold of Fred “The Ham-
mer” Williamson holding a white kitten
over his genitals. She says the girls like
it. Then I'm outside with their problem.

Sociologists know what's happening,
just as do most jailers and police and
social-welfare agents. Some will tell you
it's nothing new, that the female has
always been the more dangerous human.
What about Lucrezia Borgia, Catherine
of Russia, Lizzie Borden, Bonnie Parker

(continued on page 112)

` ffurther

— alphabetical
sex

twenty-six more reasons why you should mind your p's and qs

BY
ffolkes

E is for Cuckold D is for Dyke

G is for Gentlemen Prefer Blondes H is for Hidden Persuader

| is for Intermission

ie!
UII]
f$) AR GO

N is for Nymphet O is for Orgy

Т. for Transvestite U is for Unexpurgated

Z is for Zorro

DOUN AND OUT AND FEMALE

n Janice’s lenient
counted some crimes as. well.
ly feminine. The superintendent
from the Army with residual hu-
manity intact, but one girl he'd supervised
had confounded him, Twenty-three years
old, she'd beguiled her husband and
brother into raping and mutilating а
woman she belicved was fooling around
with that same husband. She got 44
years, he said, shaking his head. A model
prisoner, too.

He should not be surprised. According
to the FBI, crime by females is up 86
percent since 1960, with a 239 percent
rise for girls under 18. Narcotics arrests
have increased tenfold (45 times for girls
under 18), while robbery, manslaughter
d trafficking in stolen goods also show
Amazonian leaps. Alarmed authorities
afirm it's as though the Furies were loosed

and all the rest? Ev
wardei

оп the land. Women, they say, are now
too much like men. Yet, even given that, is
the response just? Are sodety's institu-
tions playing fair in this new game of

nities inflicted by the body politic on
the body female?

Ron Robinette is a modern police-
man—college educated, community
minded, hip. He works the dangerous
watch from four р.м. until midnight in
a tough Kansas City precinct, half black,
half white, where “the streets belong to
the punks and hookers.” Ron has a sim-
ple answer. "Now they don't act like
women when you arrest them. When I
was a rookie, I still had shreds of chiv-
alry. Then a woman сате at me with a
meat cleaver and all of a sudden I real-
ized this wasn't TV; that she was really
and truly trying to kill me with that
damned thing, that she was after my
own most personal and precious ass. All
of that I saw while she was charging.
Hell, I hit her like 1 would a man. That
ended my Galahad phase. Now I'd split
k's skull as soon as a man's."
he police chief of a small Kansas town.
knows what Ron means. He says more
women prowl his streets, that theyre
more aggressive. More teenagers are solic-
ing, panning the expenseaccount gold
of his turf. And shoplifting, possessing
and pushing dope. The chief thinks this
isa hell of a thing to happen in the heart
of America, as natives hereabouts call it.

“TU tell you what's wrong," he says
here're no homes anymore. No disci-
pline or respect shown anywhere to any-
thing by anyone. The girls hustle in the
high school halls. They panhandle. They
leave drunken Mommy and tranquilized
Daddy in the splitlevel and get their
kicks participating in the sick aggressive-

ach

112 ness around, And it's not just that there're

(continued from page 106)

more female offenders. Crime against
women is up alarmingly. Rapes, rob-
beries, aggravated assault—hundreds ev-
ery year. You know, some guy breaks
in, ties the girl up, rapes her, beats her,
robs her, maybe kills her. Sometimes his
girlfriend stands around watching, like
Manson. It’s sick and getting sicke

I ask the chief about how female sus-
pects are treated. He says there hasn't
been a girl assaulted in his squad cars for
years. "We take special precautions with
female prisoners. If the cop has to ride
alone with her, he calls in his location
and mileage. That's checked when he
comes in. All police departments do
this" But what if the policeman lied?
"We'd break his ass. The girl would talk.
Look, we get enough complaints about
harassment from the teenager busted for
speed or acid, especially if she's middle-
dass. They've got rights, see. They come
with the country-club membership.” But
we both know any safeguard fails now
and again.

Robinette secs it a bit more concretely
In his precinct, 20 percent of the crimes
are executed by women. "Crime's always
been one of the puberty rites for chicks
in black districts. Now it's popular all
over.” Ron has nine years in the cars,
watching the street, quivering in occupa-
tional paranoia. "What it is, we've got an
ecological sink. Vietnam, TV, movies, it's
all getting to women. Face it, as a nation
we respect and [ear the violent person.
Put that with women getting го be men,
you know, liberated libidos and all, and
you see women have found a new outlet
in crime. No helpless tears and hair pull.
ing now. Oh, when we bust "em, they may
put a few moves on us, shake an ass or
two, and they're smarter than men, they
cool it faster, but don't turn your back.
Hatpins today got five-inch blades.”

Again, FBI statistics agree. The per-
centage of armed women according to the
most recent FBI statistics is up 12 points,
that of violent crime up nine, and cops
use one to combat the other. A cop who
prefers anonymity says, "Sure, if we got a
known offender, we la' on her hard to
get what we need to bust the biggies. It's
боца be a little tough with women,
because they still have this thing about
protecting the men, or any men they
know. They offer themselves. I don't
know why. Herd instinct, maybe, taking
care of the buck." And what is the aver-
age cop's reaction to such femini
tures? "Once we had two girls said they'd
go two-on-one for a cop who busted them.
He turned them down. Hell, they'd turn
a wick to beat the heat. I would, too,
wouldn't you

Considering carefully, yes. Thats the

game, after all. Women with records es-
pecially fall prey to sexual blackmail. In
Memphis, such practices seem like post-
puberty rites for police. Recently, hard
by the Beale Street wonderland where
Faulkner's tender young men went to
soiled doves for their initiation, two ра-
trolmen were dismissed for extorting sex.
A newsman says, “They apparently had
something on these two girls, took them
to an isolated spot, well. you know. . . .
Hell, it's common enough. A few solicit
favors from hookers. One got fired for
leaving his post directing traffic to escort
a passing lady to a nearby hotel.”

Again, the swirling tides and sh
shoals of justice. I wondered, ng to
the jailed women and the men who put
hem there, how it must be for the un-

iled, for the female who is free —how-

ever poor or young. or hooked or
hooking, or how deeply engraved she is
somewhere on a police blotter, like tears
on a medieval Madonna.

Linda Hendrickson's [some of the
names in this article have been changed]
face is haunted, though its heart shape is
sweet and she keeps the knifesplit side
away from you. She would be pretty were
the ghosts not in her eyes, if her tongue
did not constantly lick her lips and betray
her speed habit. Linda's from Minnesota
She's never been in jail, at least not for
long. She beat a carstealing rap, and
while she's been hauled in for shop à
associating with felons, being at the scene
of drug raids and has gone through as-
sorted station-house interrogations, she's
on probation now. She works at a public
mental-health facility, apparently near
the medicine cabinet.

“ГИ go on with it until 1 get bored,
and then, I don't know. This job. I'm
ten minutes late, it's an offense. I want
something, some job that's not eight to
буе, But I won't find it, so ГЇ work
What else is there? That or boosting.”

Linda's an experienced shoplifter. At
her peak, she could do $400 or $500 a
nds and

ty to the bad paper.

“АП this stuff, 1 did it for the thrill. 1
mean for kicks, not the clothes. Lerner's
just doesn't offer that much."

She laughs and drinks a little Scotch.
“Really,” she whispers about nothing,
and we listen to the jukebox and the
traffic hushed by a winter storm. I can't
quite reconcile her appearance with her
biography. Linda's 22, the oldest of four
kids. Even now there's a halo of lakes
and wind-reddened checks about her,
something spirited and fine, something
fading. She talks of her childhood. The
eyes calm for a moment. It was norm
she says. The rest of her family still is,
(continued on page 181)

tequila comes north of | the border to

Poet

NO LIQUOR IN THE WORLD has been painted in such
wildly false colors as tequila. Allegations that its
flavor is akin to rattlesnake venom and that its
potency rivals Kickapoo joy-juice are no more
true of tequila than they're true of grande cham-
pagne cognac. Undoubtedly, tequila's notoriety
can be traced to the fact that there are two kinds
of tequila in Mexico, unaged and aged, and that

PHOTOGRAPHY BY BILL ARSENAULT

many natives are in the habit of drinking the
former just as it trickles from old-fashioned pot
stills—the weedy juice of the mescal unracllowed
by a single day in a wooden cask. Then there's
the type of Mexican who—especially when grin-
gos are watching him—enjoys making a cult of
his tough drinking habits. The old ritual of
Squeezing lime juice (concluded on page 182)

Nou, gods, stand ир for basiards!
—EknMuwp, King Lear

Study these men. They are the men of
the hour, heroes all. They may be tough
and mean, but they are not villains.
Some of these guys may be familiar to
you, some not: Charlie Finley, Chuck
Colson, Jim Aubrey, Judge Guinn and
John Simon. They have worked hard,
all of them, and they have gained power.
They know how to use it, they know
how to keep it and they know how to
make you suffer. And you are not home
free if you happen to steer clear of these
five; there are thousands of others like
them, smaller fry, of course, but nasty
just the same.

So study these men, learn their ways,
and then resolve to be like them.

CHARLES O. FINLEY

TO His PLAYERS, to his managers, to his
staff, to baseball fans and to all America,
Charles O. Finley, owner of the Oakland
A's, is a lulu, a rumb bum in a league
by himself. He is ungracious in victory
and a demon in defeat. This is а cad
among sporting gentlemen, a tyrant who
specializes in humiliating his men.

Hours after a woebegone Mike An-
drews committed two errors that lost a
world-series game, Finley was twisting
Andrews’ arm to sign himself onto the
disabled list and thus off the team. Not
even the ensuing public outcry daunted
Finley. “It's my ball dub, my money,
and I don't appreciate anyone telling
me how to spend my money to run my
business,” he said.

While this was going on, Finley was
engaged in an unscemly tussle with his
back-to-back-pennant-winning manager,
Dick Williams. The long-suffering Wil
liams had had feelers from the Yankees,
but Finley was threatening court action
to prevent him from accepting the job.

With an outlook like that, there is no
room for the niceties of compassion. Fin-
Jey once ordered a ball-park announcer
to introduce the long-haired Joe Pepi
tone over the loud-speaker as “Josephine
Pepitone.” The announcer quit. Bill
Rigney returned a week early from a
scouting trip and was asked by a cantan-
kerous Finley why he had come back so
soon. Rigney said his wife was sick
Finley said, "You're fired.”

He shouts, he ridicules, he bullies.
Small wonder that in 13 years, Finley
has gone through 13 managers, eight
icity men, seven farm directors and

ILLUSTRATION BY ERALDO CARUGATI

HEARTS

five tough men for the savage seventies

five general managers, finally winding
up in the last job himself.

After Vida Blue had won 26 games in
1971, Finley put him through a long, de-
meaning contract struggle, making Blue
miss all of spring training and forcing
him, finally, to accept relatively low pay
for his pitching value. “That man soured
me on baseball," Blue says. "No matter
what he does for me in the future, TI
never forget that he treated me like a
damn colored boy.

For the record, player Dave Duncan
pointed ош that "Charlie treats his
¢ players like niggers, too.”

The heavy Finley touch is everywhere
He has made the A’s wear gaudy green-
and-gold uniforms with white shoes and,
to be consistent, he suited up his hockey
team, the California Golden Seals, in the
same colors (which meant they had to
wear white skates). Proudly he sports а

atching blazer. And there, at every ball
game, is the A's mascot, a mule named
Маге О. that stays in the Presidential
suite of any hotel that will take him—
better housing than the team gets.

During ball games, Finley watches
from his box behind the dugout, barking
commands into a green telephone to his
hapless manager of the moment. Even
when he isn't there in person, his pres-
ence is felt. Casey Stengel recalls riding
with Finley in his limousine while they
listened to the A’s game on the radio.
“Suddenly [Finley] yells: ‘Stop the car,”
gets out, goes to a phone booth, calls the
manager in the dugout and yells imo the
phone: ‘Get that donkey out of there

"He just doesn't treat people like
human beings.” says Bob Elson, a radio
announcer who used to work with th
A's. Finley is the sports world's least pop.
ular man. deservedly. So, when he suf
fered a mild heart attack not long ago.
one of the fans hung а bed sheet from
the second tier that read, How COULD
FINLEY HAVE A HEART ATTACK? HE
DOESNT HAVE A HEART

But Finley has a thick skin—:
tial commodity for mean men. He
worked in the steel mills and the butcher
business before making a fortune in in-
surance and moving on to sports. And
now. as San. Francisco sports columnist
Wells Twombly put it, Finley “doesn’t
give a damn what anybody thinks and
doesn't give a damn who likes him.

essen

CHARLES COLSON

In a White House known for its arro-
gance and devious skulduggery, former
special counsel Charles Golson served as
the ranking heavy, the most hated and

115

PLAYBOY

feared of all the President's men. The
press used to call him "Nixon's hatchet
man" and “head of the dirty-tricks
department" Colson liked to think of
himself as "chief ass kicker," and it was
he who once said that he would "walk
over my grandmother" to get Richard
Nixon re-elected.

The roster of those who loathed Col-
son included several members of Nixon's
inner circle, themselves no sweethearts.
Bob Haldeman despised the man and
complained that Colson was always do-
ing things behind his back. John Mitch-
ell wondered ruefully whether Nixon
really knew what Colson was like.

But Colson—reputed author of the
enemies list, leader of the White House
political attack group, instigator of forged
State Department cables, proposer of
firebombing the Brookings Institution,
honcho to the secret plumbers and draft-
er of the plan to nail Daniel Ellsberg—
won the affection and wust of the Presi-
dent, despite the antipathy of Haldeman
and Mitchell, who conspired endlessly to
get rid of him. Tough is not the word for
Colson; a distinct strain of sadism runs
barely beneath the surface of his alleged
operations.

Colson stands accused of more evil
deeds than the rest of the White House
gang put together—though he generally
denies everything attributed to him. Nev-
ertheless, he is given credit for: ordering
a tax audit of a Teamster official who
opposed the President; suggesting that
demonstrators in the guise of antiwar ac-
tivists disrupt the funeral services for J.
Edgar Hoover; drafting the scandalous
newspaper ads that attacked seven
"radiclib" candidates in the 1970 Con-
gressional campaign; sending someone to
pose as a gay activist who would donate
money to Pete McCloskeys New
Hampshire campaign and then turn
over the receipt to the Manchester
Union Leader; launching a smear cam-
paign against Senator Lowell Weicker in
order to undercut him during the Water-
gate committee hearings: hiring young
men to pose as homosexuals in noisy sup-
port of George McGovern at the Demo-
cratic Convention; masterminding one of
the dirtiest political campaigns in mem-
ory in order to trash the 1972 Congres-
sional bid of antiwar veteran John Kerry;
engineering the fraudulent telephone
and mail drives supporting Nixon's Viet-
nam policies; leaking information to
Life magazine in 1970 that destroyed the
career of young Senator Joseph Tydings
of Maryland. “I'm kinda happy about
that," Colson says of the Tydings caper.

It was Colson who first recommended
E. Howard Hunt for White House em-
ployment, and it was Colson who pressed
repeatedly for the adoption of Gordon

116 Liddy’s intelligence plan.

fundamental hard-hat
ies, Colson arranged the Presi-
dential commutation of Jimmy Hoffa’s
sentence, and Colson's Washington law
firm now handles a lucrative bit of
"Teamster business.

Though he maintains his innocence,
Colson refused to testify before the Wa-
tergate committee, saying he expected to
be indicted. While he waits, he devotes
himself to his law practice, his family and
a new-found devotion to religion. ("If
anyone wants to be cynical about it, I'll
pray for him,” he says.) His wife—who
Claims she was attracted to him because
he was "so commanding; he says hop
and you hop"—revealed that Colson likes
to play The Marine Corps Hymn for
background music at their dinner parties.

Colson is said by one former White
House aide never to have been con-
cerned about “ethical questions.” He has
three mortal heroes and one slogan. The
heroes are Richard Nixon, John Wayne
and Chesty Puller, “the greatest blood-
and-guts Marine who ever walked.” And
to his heroes, Colson—in the words of his
own father—is “viciously loyal’ Or,
the words of Richard Nixon (via the
White House transcripts), the President's
opponents may not have thought Nixon
himself was involved in the Watergate
operations, but “they think I have people
capable of it. And they are correct, in that
Colson would do anything.” Colson’s
favorite slogan is engraved on a plaque
over the bar in his den: WHEN YOU'VE GoT
ТЕМ BY THE BALLS, THEIR HEARTS AND MINDS
WILL FOLLOW.

JAMES T. AUBREY, JR.

Not for nothing is James Aubrey called
The Smiling Cobra. Throughout his tu-
multuous career, first as the shrewd and
ruthless boy-wonder president of CBS
Television and recently as the budget-
slashing head of MGM, Jim Aubrey has
spoken softly and smiled, savoring noth-
ing so much as the kill.

“You're through,” he told Jack Benny
gently at CBS. “Not a chance," he mur-
mured to Garry Moore, who had asked
for a try at а TV comeback. Likewise,
Arthur Godfrey, Danny Thomas, Red
Skelton and Lucille Ball have their own
private memories of quiet chats with
James Aubrey.

"Under pressure, Aubrey gets colder
and colder," says TV executive Alan
Courtney. “I don't think anybody in the
world—not anybody—means anything
to Jim Aubrey. It's like he has a gland
missing."

It was no secret at CBS that Aubrey
was arrogant and cruel. Luckily for him,
he was brilliant as well and possessed an
intuitive sense of public tastes. Almost
contemptuously he fed the nation Petti-
coat Junction and The Beverly Hill

billies. CBS' ratings soared, its profits
swelled and the company hierarchy pre-
tended not to notice Aubreys worst
excesses,

Aubrey enjoyed firing people, for one
thing, and he took strange delight in tell-
ing how he did it. Most notable was his
dispatching of CBS programing vice-
president Hubbell Robinson. Robinson
had given Aubrey his first big break by
accepting one of his program suggestions
when Aubrey was a nobody in the CBS
West. Coast. office. Seven years later, Au-
brey was the head of the network and
Robinson's boss. One day, the way Au-
brey tells it, Robinson came into Aubrcy's
office with proposals for the next ycar's
programing. Robinson talked for an
hour, giving a detailed explanation of
each program. while Aubrey listened
silently. Then he cut in softly, "You're
through, Hub."

"In a moment, Jim, I still have a
few

No,” said Aubrey. “You're through.”
im Aubrey treats friends and enc-
mics the same," says onc former TV asso
ciate, "so at least you always know where
you stand."

Friend David Susskind started. produc-
tion on a dramatic series called The Out-
sider, only to have Aubrey deny he'd ever
made a commitment. “I guess I was rough
as hell on the talent,” Aubrey admits.

He was no more gentle with his
women, according to stories widely circu-
lated in the early Sixties. The details of
his raucous partying and his rough ureat-
ment of ladyfriends appeared regularly
as blind items in the gossip columns. It
was all too giddy-making for Jacqueline
Susann, who conferred a special status
upon Aubrey by using him as the model
for Robin Stone, the villainous power-
and sex-mad title character of The Love
Machine.

Aubrey, true to form, is known for
sardonic formula for getting rid of
women, rather than win
ways do it in the daytime,
often quoted Aubrey advice,
night your heart takes over. Take her to
lunch, to a very chic place like the
Colony, where she will see famous people
and where it is against all the rules to
сту or scream or throw crockery. Buy her
a drink and tell her that the train has
reached Chicago and you're getting off
at Chicago.”

After one particularly energetic party

Miami 1964—gate-crashed by the
local police—CBS got off Aubrey’s train
and he was fired.

A quietus of four years followed and
then Aubrey and MGM came together,
married, as it were, by Las Vegas impre-
sario Kirk Kerkorian. MGM was in deep.
trouble, $80,000,000 in debt. Operations
had to be cut, overhead sliced, hordes of

(continued on page 182)

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PLAYBOY

120 Bulletin num

floodlights at the base of the monument
to prevent police detection. We would
not make this mistake, but other difh-
culties that I could not anticipate would
confront us.

1 felt I was ready for the ascent. 1 had
been one of the party to scale the Bunker
Monument їп Charlestown, Massa-
chusetts, in June of 1969* and 1 had had
extensive monument-climbing experience
in the Washington, D.C, area, including
a night ascent of the Lincoln Memorial.
I was thus familiar with hard-marble
climbing and the attitudes of the police
the arca.

I chose as my climbing companion
Warrington. Hull of the New York Sky-
scraper Club. While I had never climbed
with him previously, his background in
technical building climbing was impres-
sive and he had just completed a success-
ful attack on the hitherto unclimbed west
face of the UN Building. He was about
to come out on parole following his incar-
ceration for that feat, but I thought he
must be in good condition, as he wrote
me that he had been “climbing the walls
of his cell for the past three months.

While I will not deign to answer the
absurd charge of vandalism leveled at me
in Hull's recent article in the Journal of
the Building Climbers of America, 1 do
wish to note that Hull sadly misrepresent-
ed his dimbing abilities to me. The con-
quest of the Empire State Building, while
demonstrating a certain dogged determi
nation, gives one little of the expertise
required to handle 4 marble monolith.
Neither are the techniques of technical
glass climbing used on the UN Building
at all applicable to monument climbing.
Without wishing to vilify him personally
in any way, let me say only that his
cowardly defection about three quarters
of the way through our ascent left me in
grave personal danger and, if 1 had been
any less skilled, could have resulted in my
injury or death.

Discussions of routes for the monument
have favored the south face for winter
climbing. with the north or eastern face
for summer ascents. I conditions are
rare except in the dead of winter. We
chose the south face as prov
lighting for a spring climb.

The only special hardware we took on
the ascent was a supply of the new ex-
plo: pact bolts. While these bolts

"The Monument Climbers of North
America revised scale is used through-
out this description. This scale should
not be confused with and cannot be con-
verted to the M.C.N.A. unrevised scale,
the National Climbing Classification Sys-
tem, the Yosemite Decimal Grade System
or the Dewey decimal system.

*For an excellent description of this
climb from an interesting point of view,
see “Monument Climbers, Vandals or
Madmen?” National Park Security Forces
er 69.22,

tend to produce significant fracturing of
ble surface, they hold well and pro-
vide a reliable method of securing car-
abiners to smooth surfaces. We also wore
carbide-tipped spiked boots. The grip of
such boots on marble is far superior to
rubber soles, and the scarring effect of
their use is usually visible on а monu-
ment only after three or four ascents

The actual story of our climb is best
given in my journal notes, which are re-
produced here with the addition of a few
explanatory notes.

April 14, 1973, 2:30 a.m. We are ofi.
The floodlights have been covered with
blankets and we work rapidly at getting
up the first 100 feet. No fancy technique
is possible at this point; it is simply a
mauer of sewing bolts and moving up,
using our flashlights only when absolute-
ly necessary. We are working as a team.
There is a beauty in our quiet mechanical
work punctuated only with the “thwack”
of bolts being set.3

5:30 A.M. Dawn over the Potomac. We
are well above 100 feet. Two police cars
arrive below, a searchlight goes on and
someone shouts up at us with a bullhorn.
We ignore him and work our way up-
ward. A ladder truck from the fire de-
partment appears. After some delay, the
ladder is extended to its maximum height.
A fireman stands at the top of the ladder,
some ten feet below us, and shouts threats
of jail at us. Hull laughs. “They aren't
half so polite in New York," he says.

7 AM. It is light enough to begin some
serious route planning. Our previous ex-
amination of the monument with binoc-
ulars has revealed an irregular crack
running from about the 150-foot mark to
well above 175 feet. Hull, who is leading,
finds the crack. He insists on trying pitons.
The marble is fragile and pieces of it
flake off as he hammers. A crowd has
gathered below, workers on their way to
Government jobs. Some of them are
shaking their fists and shouting.

7:30 л.м. A piton comes loose and Hull
drops perhaps ten feet before I slow him
to a stop with a dynamic belay. He hangs
there cursing the “damned slippery mar-
ble.” 1 work him back up to position and
take the lead myself, going back to the
explosive bolts. In the full light we can
see that they fracture the stone out six to
ten inches from the bolt.

10 л.м. It has been straight bolt climb-
ing since we left the crack. We estimate
that we are well past 200 feet. A National
Park policeman is lowered on a rope to
talk to us. He tries to get us to reply, ask-
ing us the purpose of our climb, offering

*The selling of an explosive-impact
bolt makes а sound simular to the firing of
a small-caliber revolver. We felt the police
would assume these sounds were due to
ally occurring in the area

the crimes noi
of the Mall.

us amnesty and fantastic allexpense
climbing trips to the most remote and
gerous of routes in the Western
national parks. We do not answer him,
but I long to explain to him how hopeless
it is to make such offers to a monument
climber. There is no purity in climbing
some irregular hunk of rock shaped by
the whim of nature. There is beauty only
in the monument and its clean upward
sweep of marble.

10:45 a.t. The policeman is replaced
by another, who reads us a court order
demanding that we desist from desecra
tion of a national monument. I have
heard this routine too many times before
to be impressed, but Hull seems to be
listening. Can it be that he is weakeni

1 can take no chances. For the first
in all my years of monument climbing. 1
reply with words that should crase any
doubts growing in Hull's mind. "We
сате not to desecrate,” 1 say, "but to
consecrate.”

11 л.м. The policeman has disappeared
back upward and we to the monu-
ment face for a rest break at about 300
feet. The view is astounding. Just visible
to the west is the Lincoln Memorial, an
interesting climb with a particularly dif-
ficult class7.1 cornice overhang. Directly
south is the Jefferson Memorial, a class-
6.3 climb, fust conquered by ihis author
and NougatSmythe in 1968 using а col
umn belay on the north por And
finally, looking east up the Mall. past the
long row of minor Government buildings
(many of which are still unconquered),
is the ultimate challenge. the Capitol
dome. Often attempted and never сот:
pleted, this ascent combines probably the
best of variety in monument technique
with the grea
evasion in the U

1140 л.м. Climbing again. I am wor-
ried about Hull. He has begun to feel the
face of the stone around each bolt as he
sets it, exploring the extent of the dam-
age. He is also refusing to set his boots
solidly into the marble, a dangerous prac-
tice that has already caused him to slip a
couple of times.

12:15 р.м. They have rigged a hose to
the top of the monument and water be-
gins to pour down upon us. 1 am thankful
that we had not attempted a winter
climb. In freezing weather we would be
encased in ice in a matter of minutes.
Now І am comfortably cool in the hot
April sun. But Hull is paralyzed by the
water. I recognize the trouble. He belicves
he is buck climbing the UN Building.
thinking what it would be like with wet
glass. “It’s just marble," I shout at him,
"solid rock." I pound on it with my bolt
hammer and he seems to understand. One
cannot hammer like that on plate glass.

12:20 р.м. Hull begins to climb again,
up into the falling water. But his move
ments are slow. "Hurry it up. Hull," I

(concluded on page 161)

being a romantic fantasy about a wedding night to remember

FLOATING AROUND somewhere in the collective male unconscious
there persists a stubborn fantasy—a relic, perhaps, of 19th Century.
prudery that hasn't quite made the transition to 20th Century lib-
eration. It's the vision of the demure, virgin bride who turns into a
wanton on her wedding night. Maybe it represents a chance to
enjoy the best of both worlds—the girl first prim on a pedestal, then
panting on the connubial bed. Herewith we bring this dream to life;
if it whets your appetite, you and your partner can stage your own
personalized re-enactment. But don’t get us wrong: To a couple
with imagination, what's important is the scenario, not the
ceremony. You can set the scene, in other words, without a hitch.

PHOTOGRAPHY BY RICHARD FEGLEY

121

122

Something you've hoped
for, but never dared
expect, happens when
the door closes and your
lady starts to slip out
of something
uncomfortable—with a
bit of bubbly to help
bring matters to a head.

124

Let's not be in too much of a
hurry, she teases, as her
bed-mounting antics have you
ready to climb the walls. At last,
she seems to be ready for you
to sample the bridal sweet.

First she fans, then she
cools your ardor. Surely
any gentleman would
give a lady a chance
to remove her stockings
before retiring.

Your wildest fancies
have been
consummated, and now
there she lies with that
enigmatic smile. But
what did she mean by
calling you the bestman?

PLAYBOY

“Either he's hit the jackpot or the damn thing's busted again.”

130

the tale of the two ganders from The Arabian Nights

ONCE THERE WAS A WIFE of Cairo who
talked a good deal about her genicel back-
ground, her willing obedience to her
husband and her devotion to religion.
Truth to tell, nobody would have no-
ticed these virtues if she hadn't pointed
them out. In her house she
lave a pair of plump ра
running about underloot. She
а fat lover, Whenever he came to call—
in her husband's absence—he would lick
1 the sight of the birds.

he said to her, “I can't get
the taste of goose flesh out of my thoughts.
If you were only to kill these two birds
and stuff them and roast Шет..."

But what of my husband, th:

rui

that ragged-arse, what would he say?" she
asked. “He is forever bi g onc or

another of his scurvy fri
dine. Sooner or later, he will
goose and what shall 1 tell him then? As
everybody knows, he is a headstrong man
th a vile temper."
The lover began to toy with her and
tickle her in places she loved to №
tickled, and so she said, "Oh, well, ГЇЇ
think of something to sd

‘The next day she ose, killed the
m. She stulfed them

nds home to

I lor roast

about midday, while the
, her husband
He smelled the savory smell
» to laugh. "Ah, wife, what a

gift of foresight you have!” he said
"Upon my head, you seem to have guessed
that I plan to bring a guest home with

for diuner. 1 had come to tell you that.
n who is gently bred, dutiful
to her husband and secure in her love of
Allah s can envision the thought
the mind of her lord,” she answered.
By the way,” she asked, “which greedy
scoundrel have you invited?"

"It is Mi, the camel d
husband. “Be sure to have everythin
readiness when we appear."

After he ha
arrived and,
smell, he took the wor
rolled his ey
have!” he si

“By a strange mi
invited Ali the camel driver to sh
ese with him u ig

she

ve promised them to me,”

Come!” he said,
putting her on the bed and beginning to
nd pinch and fondle her in all the
ays she never could resist.

‘Ah, well,” she said, as she finally sa
into his arms, "take them, then. PH su
ly think of something.” Aud so, when the
lovemaking was over, the man wrapped
the geese in а cloth and left the house.

A lite while later, the husband

arrived with Ali and she made them wel-
come. But then she stood belore them
with a frown of annoyance on her face,
shaking her head. “It is shameful,” she

“Shameful that there are only two of
you to enjoy all this delicious feast. Why
are you so miserly of your hospitali
Have you no other friend to sh;
repast? Is it all to be gobbled up by you
two gluttons?

“Why,” said her husband,

now that

ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLAND.

Ribald Classic

n it, Yusuf the water seller
atelul for a bit of roast goose
to put in his mouth. ГИ go to fetch him
Wait for me.

Just after he had gone, the wife's eyes
fell on а sh: knife she'd. laid out for
carving the geese enough, she
thought of something.

Suddenly she turned to Ali with а look
of anguish and cried out, “What a fright
ful pity! Oh, you are lost and, by the Li
Лаша of Allah, the awful despair will
come to you! Have you no children yet?

Confused and frightened in his heart
to hear this, Ali asked, “Why do you say
‚ woman? What is in your mind?”

She began to weep. “It is horrible to
confess, but 1 must say it. My husband,
at ferocious man, is not what he scems.
he is a slave dealer. His practice
te strong young men to dinner
"They cat of the drugged food and when
we fallen asleep, he ta
arp knife and castrates th
shave. Then he sells them to
nsports eunuchs to Ar
Ali arose, goggling and shudder

dealer who

the knife. She pointed to the back door
of the house and said, “Quickly!
He departed оп the run just as her

husband and Yusuf entered the front

door. The wile uttered а wail. “Oh,
the thieves you bring to dinner!" she
exclaimed.

"How now?" asked her husband, “What

do you mean? Aud wl
friend. Ali?
“Just this moment,” his wile answered,
"your noble friend put the two roast
geese under his arms and hotlooted
out the door there. IE you run, perhaps
you can catch h
to show him t
The husband did as she s
t of Ali sprinting through the kitchen
garden, "Stop! Га c after you and
Til have both of them?" shouted the hus-
bashi-bazouk

cre is my dear

ng the

К!” he shouted. “You can keep
nd IIl take the other."
cried. Ali

into the distance.

land Yusuf had
г to seek some sort of

Later, after the busba
gone to the bazaa
the wife and the fat lover lay on

icking goose grease from th

of something useful to say," said the
lover, "but what was it? How did it come
to you?

it was nothing, really," said the

oman of gentle upbringing,
dutiful behavior and picty can always
think of some little explanation to pro-
duce when things seem to be going
wrong” —Retold by Jonah Crai;

Ba 131

sports

BY ANSON MOUNT

an early line on teams and players

in both conferences of the n.f.l.

FOOTBALL
PREVIEW

TED HENDRICKS, the Baltimore Colts’ cerebral line-
backer, sat in a Chicago delicatessen methodically
devouring a two-inch-thick hot pastrami sandwich.
He was in town for the N.F.L. Players Association
strike strategy meeting and he brimmed with quict
enthusiasm for the justness of his cause. Midway
through the meal, he was asked if the players’
financial demands weren't somewhat unreasonable.
Actually,” he explained, “the freedom issues
are more important to us than the money issues.
We want to be free to sell ourselves to the highest
bidder, like other workers. As it stands now, team
owners buy and sell the rights to our labors as
though we were indentured servants. We want our
basic First Amendment freedoms; our private lives,
how we dress off the field, how we cut our hair are
none of the owners’ business. What would happen
if any other industry levied fines against workers

Super Bowl 1974: Troiling 17—0 but moving for a touch-
down, the Minnescto Vikings reach the Miomi Dolphins’
sixyard line. On fourth down with one yord to go, а
vicious tackle by Miami linebacker Nick Bucniconti jars
the ball loose from running back Oscar Reed and Jake
Scott recovers. The Vikings ere finished for the day.

ILLUSTRATION BY DOUG JOHNSON

133

THIS SEASON'S WINNERS

MIAMI DOLPHINS
PITTSBURGH STEELERS
OAKLAND RAIDERS

AFC Eastern Division:
AFC Central Division:
AFC Western Division:

AFC Play-offs: MIAMI DOLPHINS

NFC Eastern Division:
NFC Central
NFC Western Division:

NFC Play-offs:

PLAYBOY

DALLAS COWBOYS
MINNESOTA VIKINGS
LOS ANGELES RAMS

DALLAS COWBOYS

SUPER BOWL: DALLAS COWBOYS

THIS SEASON’S TOP ROOKIES

(In approximate order of immediate value to their teams)

Waymond Bryant
Carl Barzilauskas Defensive Tackle
Woody Green
John Hicks
Wilbur Jackson
Rick Middleton
Dave Gallagher
Bo Matthews
Randy Gradishar
Steve Corbett

Chicago Bears
New York Jets
Kansas City Chiefs
New York Giants
San Francisco 49ers
New Orleans Saints
Chicago Bears
San Diego Chargers
Denver Broncos
New England Patriots
Dallas Cowboys

New York Jets
Chicago Bears

San Diego Chargers
Cleveland Browns
Baltimore Colts

New England Patriots
New Orleans Saints
St. Louis Cardinals
Baltimore Colts

New York Jets

San Diego Chargers
Minnesota Vikings
New England Patriots
Oakland Raiders
Miami Dolphins
Green Bay Packers
Detroit Lions
Chicago Bears

New Orleans Saints
Atlanta Falcons

Running Back
Offensive Guard
Running Back

Defensive Lineman
Running Back

Offensive Guard
Defensive End
Kick Returner
Wide Receiver

Roscoe Word
Wayne Wheeler
Don Goode
Billy Corbett
John Dutton
Steve Nelson

Offensive Tackle
Defensive End

Offensive Tackle
Wide Receiver

Greg Kindle
Roger Carr
Greg Gantt
Harrison Davis
Fred McNeill
John Smith
Dave Casper

Wide Receiver

Kick Returner

Barty Smith Running Back

Oliver Alexander
Alvin Maxson
Gerald Tinker

Running Back
Running Back
Wide Receiver

who broke arbitrary company rules or
expressed a ‘controversial’ opinion to the
press? Any of a half-dozen Government
agencies would haul them into court
overnight. Consider the option clause in
the player contract, which requires us to
work an extra year at a reduced salary
after our contract period has expired.
Even worse is the ‘Rozelle rule; which
drastically inhibits our right to work
wherever we please, after we've played
out our option, by requiring the team to
which we sell our services to compensate
our former п for the ‘right’ to employ
us. И that isn't indentured servitude,
what is i"

Joe Thomas, the Baltimore Colts’
trenchant general manager, stood before
the picture window of his penthouse of-
lice in Hunt Valley, Maryland, gazing out
over the bh Worry
lines etched the corners of hi

"Actually; he told us, “the
freedom demands don't bother п
much. The biggest problem is their fi-
nancial demands. 1 think the players do
have a right to choose their own lifestyles
as long as it doesn’t impair their ability
to perform on the field and as long

they respect the enormous responsibility
of being continually in the public eye-
They have a great inlluence on im-
pressionable kids. 1 could do without the
option clause; І would just sign them
10 four- instead. of three-year. contracts.
But if the draft is valid—and the Players
Association hasn't demanded its aban-
donment—ihen the Rozelle rule is valid.
The philosophy behind both—a bal
ance of player taleni—is the same. The
Players Associations money demands,
however, would cost the league am extra
5100.000.000 а year and many of its de-
mands are Tudicrous. For example. it
ams 55000 for each of league play
as ‘adjustment pay when a player is
cut or quits, George Blanda could quit
tomorrow and draw $120,000 severance
pay. That would be quite an adjustme
wouldn't it?

Thus, as we ¢

ао pres, a long and

bitter player str
opening of summ
inevitable. But it’s our hunch that when
the players have realized one of their
most desired, but unstated, objectives—
missing much grueling practice under a
hot sun—the strike will be settled, giving
the players more personal freedom. but
not much more money

"ning

comps, seems

Although
shed by ? s about the impending
departure of Larry Gonka, Paul War-
field and Jim Kiick for the World Foot-
ball League in 1975, Dolphin тоосту
need not despair. Miami's superiority to
other teams in its conference is frig
and the major reason for the D.
phiny dominance is an offensive line

(continued on page 151)

Mons of tears are being

INAS se

THOREAU
NEVER MENTIONED
THE DAMN BUGS!

the trouble with nature is it's all outdoors

humor By JIMHOUGAN two pays after my 30th birthday (candles, bour-
iflerent states), death threats started arriving

bon and stretch socks from si
in the mail. They came from friends.

Vince DeWitt—who is only 4/64ths of this story—added the following
postscript to an otherwise happy birthday letter: "I don't like to say any-
thing, Hougan, but people are beginning to talk, They're using strange,

PAINTING BY JOHN HUNT

PLAYBOY

vituperative words. Swindle, lor instance,
nd land-grab. Now, don't get me wro
I love you like a brother and. God knows,
I hope I'm not out of line. But unless I
get the deed within a week, I'm coming
after you with Fletcher Welt at my side.
Fletcher Weft.
The mention of his name extinguishes
candles in holy places and sends the ther-
mostat into a nose dive. Fletcher Welt.

Slect, rain, hail, pain and the alm
house—that’s what Fletcher Weft means
to me.

Which is what he's supposed to mean.
He's one of those rock'n'roll lawyers
who negotiate record contracts for un-
usual bands on the brink of success or
felony charges nc of work has
quite natu noid
and irascible as hell. His a
instance, is one of those talking Sony jobs
that, instead of clanging, coo the sleeper
awake with the message of his choice.
Fletcher's alarm clock, which springs into

action at five л.м, on the dot, says, "Cock-
a-doodledoo, baby . . . suc... grab...
gouge . . . take. . . . Cock-a-doodle-doo,
baby... sue... grab... gouge ~ - -

take. . . .” Fletcher thinks it's cute and
demonstrates the device for clients and
tives, who are, incidentally, asked to
sign accident waivers before they enter
his premises, Fletcher says it's a joke, but
try to get inside without playing along.

Actually, this had nothing to do with
Fletcher Weft At Jı s what I told
DeWitt. “Listen,” 1 wrote, "take the

deed, my wife, my camera, my kid and my
copy of Gravity's Rainbow. Just don't
bring that son of a bitch into the discus-
sion." I sent him the deed, figuring he
could pick up the other stuff whenever
he wanted

The deed's the thing.

Specifically, it is the thing that gives
me/us/it legal title to that entity which
has, over the past five years, come to be
know The Land.

The Land is 200 acres of relatively
ness situated about four
miles northeast of Bucksport, Maine. It
is bounded on one side by Moosehorn
Stream, on a second side by Route 46, on
another side by a logging road and on
the fourth side by

The fourth side is unclear. It seems the
surveyor met an untimely death and
never co is, Spe-
cifically, he perished at the hands of a
hunter from Tenafly, New Jersey, who,
upon seeing a bush rustle mightily,
thought. “Pheasant!” and drilled the poor
h rd before he could establish his hu-
man credentials. That's why the survey
has two small drops of blood on the west
40 and why the property is described in
the deed as "Fenner's Ledge, comprising
150 acres, more or les. . . ." (Emphasis
mine)

Sam Cramer's.

t, the emphasis

135 As Sam put it when the time to sign the

“What's this
Pete, tell me

аа around,
reorless crap? C'mon,
what this more-or-less crap is all about.

Pete is Peter man, the realtor who
sold us The Land when we still merely
thought of it as “the land." We trusted
Pete because he has a red, white and
blue down-East accent and because he
stutters terrifically. I guess we figured th:
anyone who stuttered couldn't. possibly
he a hustler. I mean, it took him so long
10 get a sentence out. he couldn't afford
to lie about anything. His words had to
be too precious for deception.

“W-wwww-w-well, b-b-b-boys, we really
don't knov y. Surveyor
cccccaught it at point b-b-blank
Died before he could tt-ttalk. Ter
th-th-th-th-th-thing, in point of ас"

I was willing to let the matter drop (the
tension in his speech was nerve-racking),
but Sam pressed on (Sam is from New
York).

“OK, but I thought you said it was two
hundred acres. Tt says here
that it's only a hundred
M-mmmm-more or less."
Yeah, right: more or less."
105 man-mn-m-more.”

“Then why does it say

Pete winked.
explained.

Sam and I looked at each other and
nodded knowingly. "Property taxes," we
chuckled. "Of course. Goddamn property
xes”

If 1 remember rightly. we slapped old
Pete on the back.

This story actually begins in Greece.
That's where the seeds of this story lie.

My beautiful bride and I were living
mply (without electricity) on an Aegean
island and writing dark verses in which
the moon, the sea and the collapse of
з figured prominently. That
vas 1967 and the collapse was due rou
about 1980.

At the

пс, it looked as if there wi

given. Natural resources
ed. Currency unstable. 8
Domestic conflict spreading from thi
ghetto to the campus to the slurb:
panoply of ecological disasters on the ho-
rizon. Nixon in the wings, feroc
ambition. Megalopolis. Megaton. Meat
logs. Right-wing mania, Carcinogenic
food ` additives. “Protective reaction
strikes. Oil spills. Automobile takeover.
Viemam. The Sound of Music. Gypsy
moths. Junk food, junk funiture and
junk junk. Dutch elm disease. Populati
<plosion. Credibility gap. Technology
berserk. Depression. Famine. Decadence.
Catastrophe, And death. Indeed, it
seemed as if beyond the New Frontier
lay the Stone Age.

Anyway, that’s the way I saw it from
Mykonos. As I remarked to my wife,
quoting Lenin, "What is to be done?

And she replied, without a mom
hesitation, "We've got to get it together

She was right. of course. In fact, I
suppose 10,000,000 people, more or less,
came to the same conclusion via the same
analysis as we did, and about the same
time. Getting it together became, on a
popular level, the biggest national prior-
ity since the Louisiana Purchase. Individ:
ual solutions, of course, dilfered v;
For some, getting it together
Buckminster Fuller, and for
meant the guru Maharish
turned to Colombia, vanishing in search
of the $1,000,000 coke connection, while
tens of thou’
death or dementi:
and
chant and others learned to ser
mally. Br

nds tattooed themselves to

ne this
ed 10
m, pri
rice got a few, and so did
t the Progressive Labor
But for us, getting it together
. stereo in the woods.
as my wile's idea. Why don't we
together with a bunch of friends
unspoiled land some-
munity—with a de
away from the s
future-rush, poisoned food, depression
death and catastrophe? Grow radishes
and keep cows, We could have dozens of
kids and never send them to school. Sha-
piro has his doctorate in history and he
could teach them. And DeWiu. DeWitt
could teach them impossible scales and
benevolent chords. That's all they'd need
10 know: history, music and the evolu-
ion of radishes.
ıd, when the final techmoecolog
m dismembered the re
ion, we could secede and es

with Biphe

dimethyl that, Some lear

the automata
Party

blish

the Artists & Writers Dope Coop for
Self-Defense. After the revol
would all dog, а са

manure on the bottom of our shoes.

And if catastrophe should cheat us
ve, we'd still have a tidy

ivestment in prime

recreation land. Whatever happened,

we'd be covered.
We wrote to everyone we knew. We

put it to them fairly, tempering our pri-
ate enthusiasm with objectivity.

Did they want to die a slow adrenal
death from the concussive effects of an
exploding population or did they want
to ensure, lor themselves and their loved
оп n etcrni sylvan glade

coping daily with manageable challenges
ad thir n atmosphere of broth-
erhood and ер ? The choice w:
theirs. АП they had to do at this stage
was to promise 51000 when thc moncy
was needed.

The responses fell into two general
categories. "The first category was com-
posed of letters from friends who had, it
scemed, a. pathological fear of death by
tick. As one demurral, from a friend liv-

ng on the Lower East Side, put it: “You
can be walking through the forest, a tick.
ds on your head, sucks the blood out

e 2 2 8

у as
а
ra

good reasons. First, you're too old for me.

going steady. And third, Uncle Harry, . . .

"I'll give you three

Second, I'm

137

PLAYBOY

138

of your neck, and you re dead іп a ma
of minutes, When they find you, you're
nothing but a dried husk, a cocoon rolled
by the wind through fields of poison ivy.
Ticks.” the letter explained, “are like
crab lice, except that, gorged on human
blood, they can grow to a length of 18
inches and reach the height of a dachs-
hund (though this is rare).

The letters in the second category were

more enthusiastic. Steve Shapiro, fresh
from grad school and unemployed, wrote
a stinging critique of private property
but promised his every dime. So did an-
other friend, who'd just returned, disil-
lusioned, from a [oundation-sponsored
mass vasectomy program in India ("То
tell you the truth, I've become a coitus
interruptus man"). Two girls ГА known
in college actually sent. personal checks
for S1000 each. 1 lı no idea where they
got the money or why they trusted me
ihi it.
But with letters exchanged and some
money in hand, the scheme took on
ts own momentum. Sam Cramer, who
writes detective novels and does a terrific
imitation of Maurice Stans, agreed to
spend a month in Maine "scouting
around" for property.

Our requirements. were bly
well defined. We wanted a minimum of
20 acres per person :
our budget would afford. There had to
be a road bordering the land and, if
there was water on the property, we had
to have all the relevant rights. And the
mineral rights. We didn't want to a
en some morning to find a si
growing around the greenhouse.

The greenhouse. An essential part of
the fantasy the
cording studio, sauna, houses, maze, bowl-
ing green and corral would come the
greenhouse. And in it we would grow
wild herbs, flowers and. the ultimate hy-
brid answer to Panama Red, tons of it
flourishing ever upward in scientifically
prepared soil. Sequoias of robustly How-
ering hallucination.

Indeed, our plans for The Land devel-
oped along mythic lines that transcended
the ordinary dimensions of preutopian
reality. On an ego trip measured he
years I came to think of myself as an
amalgamated avatar of Joseph Smith,
Christopher Wren and the entire Lewis
and Clark Expedition. 1 would take my
compañeros imo the woods and we
would wait out Armageddon in all the
bucolic elegance that prudence and a
L-driven stereo set could proi

What I didn't want to do was to estab-
lish а commune. My only experiences
with communal living had been unple:
ant. It seems to me that communes are
inevitably low-rent affairs, doomed by
the exigencies of household chores, di:
washing and the defenestration of Kitty
Liter. No matter how compatible the

reason:

close to the se:

beerskeller, re-

people are, nor how good their inten-
tions, the most savage aggressions cmerge
when it becomes obvious that some son
of a bitch is not doing his or her fair
share of the dishes. Or consuming unjus-
tifiable amounts of milk
То succeed, a commune must be com-
posed of humanoids totally devoid of
eccentricities or bad habits. 1f we estab-
lished a commune in Maine, it would be
only a short time before some communard
insensitively suggested that my
to Marlboros
unhealthy strain on the collective budget.
I'd be forced to counter that Ms. X spent
at least as much on hair conditio
rinses and shampoos—stupid van
And what about DeWiu? Unlike the rest
of us, who were, in barely varying degrees,
edge of bankruptey, he had mu

miving r ly. Would 1
gladly share his income with those less
fortunate than he? He would not. Touch

one dime and you'd have Fletcher Weft
descending in a Mystère jet with Federa
marshals on his flanks.

No, wed have a community rather
than a commune. Everyone would be
financially independent and responsible
for his or her own scene, except in mat-
ters relating to the general weal—such as
property taxes, legal fees, surveying and
the establishment of a water and drainage
system. The expenses would be shared
equally

But how do you find à site for utopia
Our budget limited (about $8000)
and, for the time being, mostly theoreti-
cal. We kıı moreover, that once the
land was obtained, it would be some
while—perhaps years—belore we could
disengage ourselves [rom our city lives
and, with money we'd have saved, move
to the woods and settle down in houses
we'd have built by ourselves.

We chose to look in Maine for a varie-
ty of reasons. It was physically beautiful,
coastal and within striking distance of
Boston and New York. At the same time,
it was not within the spreading me
of what might be called
Maine's population w:
1,000.000, and declining, so the
inexpensive. The people who
iced a higher value on envi-
ronmental beauty than on second car
and good television reception.

It was Sam who found what became
The Land and summoned us back from
Greece. He'd spent 5300 and а month in
rooming houses on the Maine coast be-
forc locating a property that conformed
to both our budget and our whim:

The place he found was within а
rough triangle defined by the esoteric
coordinates of Bangor, Ellsworth and
Bucksport. The Penobscot Bay reaches
up into that triangle and then branches
into a complex ol tidal marshes, rivers.
streams, lakes and duck ponds surrounded

by forests, It’s ап underpopulated re
fringed with moldering resorts, collapsed
mansions and dying industrie. The
people tend to be either rich or poor.

We met Sam in the Jordan House
(four dollars per night in winter) and,
after an evening of cigars and excited
conversation, spent the next day check-
ing ош The Land.

Acually, we didn't see the ground it-
self. A foot of snow had fallen prettily
the day belore and everything was blan
keted in white. On snowshoes borrowed
from the electric company, we пой the
creage, singing boisterously to warn olf
ny hunters who might be in the ne

borhood. Moving with the dexterity of
les wearing motorboats on their
feet, we pointed at cloven tracks and

fumet, making knowledgeable rema

about their origins.

“Or deer.
“They look fresh, too."
"Could be rats. Or tick tracks."

“No, too big for tick. Probably deer."
The Land itself was impressive. Huge
nd quiet, jammed with trees of eve

¢ were caves and,

where the stream bent, a swimming hole
sheltered by red pines. In the middle of
the property was a meadow the size of a
football field and, olf in one corner,
down by the county road, a marsh stip-
pled with alders. The stream—our south-
ern boundary—was 40 feet wide, deep,
icy, dean, clear and crossed in two places
by wooden bridges. The ground sloped
gradually up from the stream (Thoreau
mentioned a stream with the same name

1 The Maine Woods) to the undefined
northern boundary, a boulderstrew
* that towers over the surrounding
iyside. ‘The view from the ledge had
of a Grandma
steeples and
barns, snowy hills and. forests receding
toward the ocean. It wa
almost sentimental view, a post
of New England Genesis. But what might
have been unacceptable in art was perfect
in nature. We decided to buy it.

There were last-minute hassles as we
made the money ements by tele
phone. One of our number dr
with the announcement that he needed
his money for tuition. Someone else took
his place. DeWitt suddenly announced

pped out

another, the money required ar-
rived at the bank in time for the tr
ceremony.

best decision of our lives. “Just wairll
you ssssee the p-ppropa E
ssssummer, boys, when everything is
b-b-b-b-bloom!

Indeed, the only disquic

ng note was

Talking. Touching. Laughing. And before you know it the day
has slipped away.

But there's still plenty of white rum. And a long evening to
enjoy its special smoothness. White rurn is so smooth it goes wherever
gin and vodka go without missing a beat— in gimlets, screwdrivers,
martinis, with tonic. They're all smoother. Why? White rum from
Puerto Rico is aged at least one year — by law.

You can stay with white rum. Through the day. Through

the night. And through the yea
9 roug Yeas PUERTO RKAN RUMS

PLAYBOY

140

sounded by the local lawyer we hired to
do the title search

“How much you say you're paying?
he asked.

“About forty dollars an acre,”
with smirks.

“What's on it? A gold mine?"

“Uhhh, no. Just trees.”

“Well, what's the house like? Pretty
fair condition?”

There's no house. Just, uhhh, tree

“Just trees,” the lawyer repeated, r
ual skept aining from his

"Ye

“Just a bunch of trees.”
dull finality

“Does it sound like we're paying too
much?"

“Well, Jet's just say it looks like old
Pete has struck again.”

Our hearts sank. The room grew still.
Our lawyer seemed to be lost in med
tion, swiveling lethargically in his cha

Finally, he sprang to his feet and
rushed to а map on the wall. "Come here
and take a look at this," he said, "just

He said

take a gander at this little baby. You
have any idea in hell what this could
bc?" His knuckles rapped topographical
lines.

We took a gander and shook our
heads.

"Betcherass you don't! Not a not
hell.” He returned to his chair, sank into
it and removed his glasses. After a pause

nt that T was about to leave in
midwife, the lawyer said,
“That could be the biggest goddamn
aluminum smelter in the Western
The biggest, bar none. I've
he stid, “with Alcoa.” When
Alcoa, his voice sank
id his eyebrows rose to
form a scagull's shape with his widow's
peak. "With Alcoa,” he repeated, voice
suddenly hoarse.

I had visions of The Land smothering
in the midst of an American Ruhr Val-
teland bristling with smoke-
s nd choking on slag. “My God,” 1
said, "we've got to stop them." I felt sick.

"Stop шеш?! Do you realize how much

had

“Marriage is just not my

bag, but FU put y

you on a one-month retainer

with options for renewal.”

money there is to be n
any idea? Why, the amount would Ье...
would be . .. untold" He paused for
breath and effect. “But it won't happen
And do you know why
We shook our heads.

The environmentalist,” he hissed.
The whole | Rockefeller-Washington
Post-Ralph Nader crowd down in Bar
Harbor. They've put the kibosh on it.
But Fl tell you something: It won't al-
ways be like th

“It won't

No. And that's where I hope you boys
will come in.”

Ic? Do you have

As it turned out, his hopes were short-
lived and in vain. What the lawyer pro-
posed was for us to join hi
а ten-year option to buy on the property

will someday house the biggest alu-
minum smelter in the Western. Hemi-
sphere. When the environmental nuts аге
routed—"Progress waits for no man," we
were told—we could sell the option for
incredible wealth estimated at ten times
our original investment, All we had to do
was put up our $8000 and our lawyer
would start “talks” with Alcoa.

We declined and he charged us $400 to
do a simple title search that showed The
Land had been in the same family since
George III bestowed it on Charles Fen-
ner. I didn't know whether to pay him or
to get a warrant for his arrest, but, to
keep the thing amicable, I paid him.

Matters did not get simpler by virtue
of ownership. By che time we signed the
contract. two of us had paid 51000, two
of us $1125, two of us $500, one of us
$1250 and one of us 51500. The individu-
al amounts were proportional to the cul-
tural pessimism of the contributor rather
than to his income. As it happened, our
wealthiest contributor chipped in the
Teast money—a potential source of bitter-
but more immediate problems
had priority over potential ones.

"The new deed, for instance, could not
reflect the degrees of ownership—that
would have to await a complete survey
and subdivision of The Land. In the
meantime, to obviate the need for eight
signatures on each document pertaining
to the property, the title would be held
in my name alone.

This was madness, As Sh
on learning of the ar ipu
let me see if I'v. got this st
gan. I gave you SI
we could hold it i

piro put it,
“Now,

community on it—and you come back
from Maine with a deed that's got only
one name on it. And that name, lo

behold, is yours. Now, that doesn't look
good. I mean, on the face of it, and all
things being equal, it doesn't look good
at all. In fact, it looks like a felony and 1
want you to know I'm calling the bunko
squad.”

The other contributors reacted in
much the same way. As soon as they saw

the Ione name on the deed, they got silly

smiles on their faces and reached for the
telephone.

1 underestimated you,” DeWitt said.
I thought I was dealing with Dr. Spock

and it turns out I've got Augie March on

my hands. I think I'd better call Fletcher

“DeWitt, listen to me, you've got me all
wrong. It’s a matter of convenience —
ҳо, no, no, it's OK, Im just calling
him to check things out. It could be per-
fectly normal, for all I know. But my rule
is that if something happens with money
that isn't allowed in Monopoly, get on
the phone to Weft, Cohen, Weft, and Po-
ski. And, as far as 1 know, this isn't
covered in the rules. 1 mean, a few days
ago, I had ten percent of Boardwalk—
righti—and today I can't even get a
room on Baltic Aven So Га better
call

Welt— Ш me Fletch, for Chrissakel
We're on the same side of the table.
aren't. we?"—was relatively conciliatory
over the telephone.

“All we really need out of you, Hou-
gan, is an affidavit stating your lega
tent—in other words, that you're holding
the property as a proxy for everyone
els

“о

“And a will, of course.”

it’s very important.
e you talking about? A will!
Im twenty-five! I'm in my prime! Lis-
ten"—with the phone next to my ches
thumped the latter—"you hear that?
“Yes. МУ was и?”
Ту chest, 1 hit my chest."
“Well, that’s what I mean. You've
gotta be careful. Sixty percent of all acci-
dents take place in the home. And if
something happens to you, God forbid, 1
at least want my client to have the conso-
lation of knowing that he's covered
"I don't want to make out a will. It's
like building a voodoo doll of yourself.”
Eventually, in the course of a long
phone call, Fletch turned into Fletcher
and Fletcher into Welt. His conversation
lapsed more and more often into Latin,
until I gave up.
JK, Welt, OK, I'll make out a will.
But if anything happens to me, I want
you to know it’s on your head. Coinci-
dences like these are always | ig to
me. I think of somebody let-
ter from him the next day. I make out a
will and"
Terrific! Have it in the mail by Mon-
You never know. And remembi

n fantasy was obviously get-
ting out of hand. My best friends (nay,
my flock) suspected that Id conned
them out of their life savings. To con-
vince them otherwise required not just
my word but a sworn affidavit appended

to my last will and testament. Being my
friends was not enough; they demanded
to be my bencficiaries as well.

nd so they were, or thought they
were. I made out the will as required and
mailed it to Weft. But shortly thereafter,
in a fit of pique, I made out a second will
to supersede the first. In this latter will,
I left the entirety of Fenners Ledge to
the Salvation Army with the prayer that
it should establish a halfway house for
iotorious women" native to Maine. If
something happened to me, my friends
would have reason to regret their mis
trust and true cause for mourning.

Two years passed and when, despite
the existence of the wills, I had not been
struck down by freak accident, discase or
al murder, I tried to contrive a
ich each of us could hold sepa-
rate title to that portion of the property
that was our separate due. Since nothing
had been built on The Land since we'd
acquired it, I began to suspect that people
felt a natural reluctance to invest further
money and energy in property to which
they held no clear and legal title.

But how do you divide 150 acres
(more or less) into 64 parts—the num-
ber required by virtue of the different
amounts that we each contributed?

A survey of sufficient complexity
would require Federal funding, hel
ters and the entire staff of National Geo-
graphic. Some contributors, morcover,
wanted direct access to the county road,
proximity to the ledge and abutment
on the stream. Others ed Caves &
Stream, Road & Caves and Road, Caves,
& Ledge. It was impossible. Unless one
introduced tunnels, clov

monorail, there was no way to gerryman
der the map in such a way that everyone
would get both the acreage due him and
the points of interest he required.

Nevertheless, 1 persisted in the notion
that a map could be drawn to meet
our requirements. And, with the use of
Möbius strips, such a map was drawn,
though there scemed to be no way in
which it could be translated into rca
without the intervention of antigrav
tional technology.

Such is the feral strength of our belief
private property.

For a year and more I tortured my
mind, burning out brain cells right and
left in a doomed quest to discover а way
1 hold legal title to
our lots in life. My living room became a
litter bin of geographical surveys. crum-
pled graph papers, compasses, protrac-
tors, rulers and drafting equipment of
every description. When I was not plot-
ting the ultimate map, I was drawing
floor plans of The House 1 would build
on The Land “next year.

No two plans were ever alike, though
they had certain features in common. AIL
of them, for instance, had at least c
bathroom the size of a basketball cow
and living rooms so large that Saint Ber
nards would have to be stationed midway
between the couch and the fireplace to
rescue voyagers on the way to the kitch-
en. While none of these houses had clos-
y of them had billiard rooms,
awing rooms, darkrooms
and pantries ample enough to ac-
commodate а women's handball game.
Six thousand square feet was nothing
where these imaginary houses were con-
cerned. I was confident that, with local

which we could

so-

141

PLAYBOY

142

materials and help from my beneficiaries
(as 1 now thought of them), we could
erect mansions in a matter of weeks for
less than the price of a good new car.
1 repeatedly told my

The whole secret, а
wife, lay
and something I called "local stone.
1 later learned, the local stone was mica
Have you ever tried to build with mic

While I deliberated over the site
layout of my New England manse, my
friends were not idle. Over the pe.iad of
‚ each. visited М her im
pressions of his propert
Those impressions conformed 10 tl
sons. Those who went in winter
turned with visions of Xanadu, as I had.
Those who went in fall and spring es
pressed reservations about the wild state
of the property but. remained. enthusi
astie “Just needs a little strtightenin,
out" was a typical comment,

Steve Shapiro visited The Land i
July and reported h
tvo.v. phone call. I remember it well.

“Hougan! Wake up! 19 Shapiro!

“Great, how are you?

vine to

late

observations in a

“Terrible. Гуе been eaten alive. I'm
dying.”
Where are you

‘The Land. | saw The Land today. 1
got lost. Hougan. it’s terrible . . . à mon-
My skin is falling off."

Се p on yourself, What ате you
talking about?"

he Land, цой ‚ The Land!
I's a death trap. Snakes. spiders. wasps.
mosquitoes in clouds like thunderheads.

ме

"My God! . . . Can't I ta

your embarrassing me?!

s а garden of poison ivy!”
“Uhhh, what did you think of thc
view

"What view? You can't sce anythi
You can't see two feet in that jun
like the lower Zambesi. 1 hacked my way
to the top of the ledge and , . . and
nothing. Nothing at all.

"Look, it just needs a little straight-
ening out.”

Yoaightening ont?!”

“Yeah. that’s all. А iule thinning. Lis-
ten, did you see the seam? Whaddya
think of old Mooschorn Stream?”

“You mean Dead Rive

"No. I don't mean Dead Rive
this Dead River crap?”

“That's what the locals call it—Dead
River. We saw it, I almost
puked. It just sits there, It dossrt move
ill. Just sits there like green oat

Whats

p- telying.
“Shapiro
stream!"
"Trout stream? Nothing could live in
t mess. It would kill Godzilla. Hou
. you haven't seen it in summer. You
don't kuow what it’s lil Drs. vicious.
ig in that stime

for Chrissake, its a tout

ofl children
You're exagge
We've been burned.
“What
"We've been burned!”
ve. believe me. you're gening ns
таса]. AN the place needs is a liide
straightening out and someday ill be
great place to raise kids,

" you anyplace without

Kids! The place isn't fit for a colony
of soldier ants, let alone kids.”

You're hysterical.”
“We've been burned. Goodbye. m
getting gamma globulin shots."
piro
m geting gamme-globulin shots.
Goodbye.”

Shapiro's “Summer Report Irom the
Dead River and Environs’
firmed by others: The
an agricultural и
nkenstein's monster.

Since
more culpability than opportunity. our
plans for sophisticated. susveys and sepi-
ate deeds were jettisoned. We decided to
diminish responsibility Tor
ownership by forming a corporation. On
a whim, we named the corporation Mane
moth-steclboom X Amalgamated Forklilt
Company, Inc.

Mimmoth-Steclboom it was affec
ely called, was incorporated on Oc
1971. The incor por
50 and were worth ev
that sum we received 64 sto
а wad of legalese and a really keen
corporate seal with the company name
surrounding a large question mark
flanked by aphids rampant. We wanted
to have the company mono (“Caveat
emptor") embossed on ihe seal bur
there wasn't room.

My first аа as president of ALS. & A.F.
was to sign over the property decd for

ne dollar and “other valuable consider
ations.” The oth
tions were my peace of mini.

The Land thereby became the corpor
tion's only asset. Each investor was given
one shure of common stock for cach S
he or she had invested. Each shareholder
automatically became a meniber of the
board of directors and, of course, i
rect owner ol The Land.

The advantages to this sche
many. Besides getting to play around
with the corporate seal and to flourish
the impressive stock certificates, members
ol the corporation were protected.

That is, The Land was held by no sin-
le individual. АП members of the corpo-
tion had equal access to, and all the
ighis of. the whole property. If someone
wanted to build a house, he could do so
anywhere on The Land, leasing the acre
Har per year
9-year € (renewable). АП
construction had to be approved by a ma
1 I the shareholders. (а formality
isured none of us would ever build
y Queen) and those wanting to sell
s had to offer them to other
going 10 the open
rket (thereby curbing
impulses th

The

solved

rship now

ах

k certificates,

valuable: consider

al our

nive. enmt
anda Black &White. i
What could be
better?

Finding

the owner of ES
a lost bikini. /
Arf. Arf.

E 7 Ae d a
2 us d

bis
IMP «9 AK c PROOF, 0:974, ный, [o Moro, jp

PLAYBOY

though re:
ed

dual personality conflicts sur
end of M.S.&ALE's. first
. In a board-room struggle waged in
est corners of the White Horse
Tavem, I was—there’s no other word fo
it—purged from the presidency for what
DeWitt and Shapiro termed my "flagrant

at the

onsmonge
personality cult

‚а
porate seal while attempting
k my record collection with the

insignia, This was, while

at: I replaced
the seal at a cost of $6.95. The charge
that was more dificult to rebut was
the onc about my “insensitive public-

тей to was a
ticle published in the
Bucksport-Bangor Bugle Telegram, a bi-
weekly news sheer distributed to
dents in the vicinity of our 1
and <

article to
ted

nate provocative. The
which they referred is herew
in its entirety

MAMMOTH-STEELBOOM
TO LOCATE HERE!
By Nellie P. Style,

Statt Correspondent
(avcusta)—The state's attorney gen
s осе announced today that
Mammoth-Steelboom & Amalgam-

papers to relocate its national hea
quarters in Bucksport next year.

le Mammotli-Steclboon's chief
ve officer, recluse Wisconsin
list J. R. Hougan (above),
could not be reached for comment,
state labor-department. officials. pri-
vately expressed hopes that the con-
vs move to Bucksport
te the area's worsening
problems. Just how
many jobs Mammoth-Steelboom will
create is so far unknown, but the
town's aldermen are confidently pre-
dicting а new vitality for the old
community. As Bucksport alderman
Henry Colli reporter,
Happy days ur"

struction
will alley
employment

dustrialist" replete with bow tie
jour, a picture taken for my
book more than ten
ad one that has haunted

photo taken when

high sd
years before
me ever since. It w:
the world still turned at 45 rpm. It hint
ed broadly of Clearasil, Iooseleaf. bind-
penny loafers and the most reluctant.
virginity ever endured. Looking at it, my
hand instinctively brushed my cheek—
ite of so many bacterial Баце» тапа
a the back of my head, a band the size
of a single brain cell began to play a

percussive rendition of Bony Maronie.
1 remembered the words compulsively
d with about as much enthu
might otherwise have been summoned by
a reminiscence of past rootcanal work,
audit or a freeway collision in which
everyone was killed, And. no matter
how much I resisted, for days afterward
my mind burbled—exactly like a broken
record —the inane formula

I've got a girl called Bony Maronie,
She's as skinny as a stick-of-macaronit

It was as if I'd contracted
mental infection. a condition that agg
vated my loss of office and the corporate
seal. The more I tried to shake the song,
the more firmly it gripped: it seemed
that 1 could do nothing without the
tunc's bangi iousness.
Even my dreams sullered its dreadful
accompaniment.

And so 1 concluded my 30th year: a
documented recluse industrialist and de.
posed construction king, a man whose
adolescence wouldn't leave him alone,
sort of utopian James Ling operating ex-
clusively in an imagination obsessed by
the throb of four

an upper-

While 1 moped in this self-pitying
state, The Land reached a kind of fru
n. After more than five years of has-
sling crowned by Shapiro's coup d'état
at Mammoth-Steelboom, we decided to
bury the hatchet. In The Land.

The idea was to build a common struc
ture, a facility that each of us could usc
whenever we visited Maine. It was hoped
that by working together with our hands,
we'd renew te further de-
velopment and cr DeWitt put it,
“the kind of place Fred Astaire might
visit in times of political crisis.

Accordingly, we each took leave of
work, gathered whatever tools we had and
journeyed to Maine for
house-ra

is construction boss, and, considering the
others’ lack of expertise, he performed
dmirably. At least he correctly identi-
fied а wing nut on two occasions that I
personally know of, and at no time did
he allow the beer to go flat or disappear,
The h
own designs were rejected а
ture”—was budgeted at
that seemed reasonable in
labor, a reliance upon local materials а

use we decided to build—

the structure’s simple design.
Our insistence, however, upon us
stone and wood harvested from our own

property made a difficult job dangerous.
Alter three weeks of attacking the forest
es, ch

saws and, at
d bicycle chains,

the score stood:

MAMMOTIFSTEELEOOM 27
FOREST 16

s. identi-
and

The 27 were mostly red p
fied by their d needles
cones. but the number lude:
least one telephone pole, identilied by its
distinctive wires. The 16 was a mixed bag
of anatomical parts sacrificed to the Tool
God in His manifestation as Hammer
and Saw.

Architectu
sulted

Iso i

ally, the dwelli
defies conventional
though DeWitt is correct when he
that it somehow suggests “carly du
te Gogol.” In fact, the cabin
rather standard two-room affair, an edi-
ing been hewn from
the woods that surround it. Massive pi
logs rise from a modest stone fo
to create a ogular liv
is. according to our handbook. of the sort
much admired by impoverish
of the Great Depression,

g that re-

analysis,
says
bowl

is a

If the structuic. lacks a cer pa-
nache, the fault is not so much with the
design as with the execution. In our en.

thusiasm as master builders. we neglected
to let the logs season. As a result. they
dried out in place, shrinking a little here,
a lot there and none at all iu the vicinity
of the telephone pole. The overall effect
of this process was to make trapezoids of
ай the doors and windows and to cause
the beams to thrust out in space at crazy
angles and. uneven distances. Indeed, the
cabin looks as if it had seen a ghost, a
metaphor ло which DeWitt alluded when
he remarked, “I get the feeling th
beams are standing on end, if you know
what mean." And I did.

here is a dustbowl ambience to the
place, a depleted pizzazz that speaks of
inbreeding, corn likker, rickets and the
Good Book. It is a place that seems to
have been created. expressly
onment for hating "Darwin.
thing he stands for.

Sitting in the bunk room, contemplat-
ing the floor's way of undulating toward
the kitchen, I try to summon a sense of
pride, an exultation at ownership. “It
may not be much,” I keep telling myself,
but it’s mine. I built it with my ows

t our

s an envi
d every-

two

hands. With these two hands T wrested
shelter from the forest primeval. Where
before there was nought but wilderness,

today there is this.” And so on, through
all the clichés of rugged individualism.
And yet, even with its inaccuracies, the
nadequate to its task.
been wrested from the forest
is а hovel, not a shelter. An a
а ed from The Hell
the structure is neither
ing nor functional. A
s porous walls is a time
devoted to mending sleeves torn on nails
rippling with tetanus, freezing sojou
to the outhouse and
battles in the dark with spiders the size of
а baby’s fist. Where the roof was to have

strom Chronicle,
aesthetically. ple
weekend within

ns
neredible, paranoid

lii

Аа E

B
21
-
@)

сч

fm ч
ТЕМ
OY
© йа
X :

“Certainly, I can explain this—1 didn’t expect you
back from Albany until the day after tomorrow!"

PLAYBOY

146

formed the topmost part of an A, the
beams have thrust in a direction that
causes our neighbors to speak sardonical-
me.” The tradition
ich we follow is not so much one of
dividualism as of voluntary
incompetently executed on

in w

despite all this, the cabin ex-
traction. It pulls us
with astonishing reg-
eat its
or together,
ass for the windows, rugs
weaving, a pair
ove. Odds and ends
accumulate. There is talk of plumbing,
d Shapiro arrives late in the autumn
with a load of weathered barn boards
and insulation.

erts an
away from

and has a center. "The
ackle order on the

the wilderness around it. А track begins
10 form and, before the trees are wholly
bare, there is a path leading to its door.

Inside, a party, music and сопустза-
tion, the tinkle of ice in jelly glasses.
Sam, standing in the smoke and firelight,
surveys the dilapidation of the :
Looking around, he rocks gently back
and forth, swayed by the breeze of whis-
key he has consumed. His eyes are crossed
by opposite emotions: Self. pity and tragic
triumph alternate in each.

“You OK?" I

He smiles with the pathos of St
rel, putting an arm around my shoulder,

n Lau-

"It was all your
ng here and, by God, look at

it now.”

We do.
“Well,” Sam adds, his glass still held
high, “all 1 can say issand I mean this
ly—Hougan, may all your tics be

faci
Yeah," I reply. "Who says nobody
lives happily ever after

“I can handle the snow, the rain and the heat, but
I make damn sure I get the hell out of this neighborhood
before ihe gloom of night sets in.”

COWARD'S ALMANAC

(continued from page 89)

of not being sure what а
chromosome i

+ Fear of thinking a Chromosome is

Zenith’s new picture tube

March 22

Second day of spring

March 25

The Coward's Guide to Dining Ou

ronouncing the name of a

er thinks you

alled him “the son of a 60-year-old

oneán--billion shot will occur to-
No, you won't win the Irish Sweep-
А seactary on the 102nd floor of
the Empire State Building will drop her
lipstick out the w striking you
squarely on the head at the speed of an
M-16 bullet.

April 6

One of the best-kept medical

ndow,

ecrets of

our day: Everything gives white mice
cancer.
May 3
Today, be » somewhere in the middle of

Taurus, is of Astrology Day
Astrological fears:

of astrology

of any number of strologies
ir of your moon's being in some-
one else's house
+ Fear of Venus not making pencils
+ Fear of Mercury poisoning
+ Fear of Jupiter aligning with M.
and being unable to get a decent
picture on your TV for the next 1000
years
* Fear of heavenly bodies’ refusi
go out with you
May 4
‘The Сома!
ntan Morela
popeyed housebo:
с C movies

all of Shame:
id—lor playing the jit
II those old
Tor sayi

tion Week
May 11
Double-Fear Da
= Fear of not signi
same way every

ng your name the
me

+ Fear of looking diflerent from your
picture
June 1
Fight the Filthy Fly Month:

is to buzzi our

I there isa mos g you in
bedroom when you're trying to sleep,
your best bet is to quickly enlist in the
ask to be stationed at Point
Barrow, Alaska, where, if he has any sense
at all, the mosquito will not follow you.

July 5

‘The Jus
crate, passive, п
ed on this date

patriotic, mod-
nt group, was found-
07.

lacs about the Justa-M

g: Yellow door mat with coiled
worm and motto: TREAD ON ME.
* Slogan: "Let me think it over and
call you back sometime.”
August 19

Fear of Television I
er how far you sit from your TV,
still get radiation poisoning

I you're far enough from your
you'll start getting poisoned by your
ghbor's TV.

In addition to the X rad
from the sers high-volta
ho ga Mrared rays, elec
tron bea ys and other dang
ous electromagnetic threats coming from
various parts of your television set

George LeSpart of the World's Finest
Television Manufacturing Corporation,

vulacturer of the World's Finest Tele-
i e is absolutely no
danger to the set owner who follows the
safety procedures. “I you
50 feet from your set" says
r the proper protec-
tive Clothing, the worst that сап happen
to you is that you'll be sterilized. Of
course, we haven't analyzed the long
term effects yeu
November 10

are

While Kuru, or laughing s
only the Fore tribe of eastern New
Guinea, it is 100 percent fatal. When was

the last time you checked to be sure that
you have no lineage from the Fore tr
of eastern New Guinea?

November 30

Your Zip Code cont
ing. You will probably never discover it
December 3

з a hidden mean.

The Coward's Book Club selection:
Fear Without Childbirth

December 7

In 1941, the Japanese military, real

that America could. be caught off

Harbor D: ed Ре

boi

on Pearl

bor.

December 10

The face you see in the m
ing will not be your own.
December 11

The Coward's Consultant:
Dear Sir: Fm a junior in college, and my
friends keep Gilling me chicken because
1 don't want to use pot or LSD. What
should 1 do:—With It

ror this morn-

Dear Mr. И: As T see it, you have two
choices. Develop a Christ complex (study
Billy Graham's books for modus ope-

1, mum-

randi) or walk directly into a
bling “Far out” as you do so. Either way,
your friends will [eel certain youre onto
something stronger than they've got. In-
Пу. a reasonably sale drug
amino acid. Ask your druggist-
December 16

“Any coward can fight а battle when he's
sure of winning; but give me the man
who has the pluck to fight when he's sure

iden

of losing.
are

at's my and there
ny victories worse than del
—crorce ELIOT ix. Janet's Repentance

* Fear of accompl
worth accompli
+ Fear of falli

ing something not

hole in the

George Eliot was а woman. fourth dimension and being lost
December 29 forever
“Even paranoids have real enemies." + Fear of your car's horn’s blowing at a

E арте TRU

Basic fears:

+ Fear of biting down on a scrap of
tin foil

ar of serea
crowded theater

+ Fear of going into advertising

+ Fear of not finding footnotes

+ Fear of stepping up to a ba
on the spur of the moment and writ-
ing a holdup note on
slip

+ Fear of losing your mind .

+ Fear of being unable to keep from
ripping olf your clothes in the public
library

+ Fear of

ENERALLY ACK

I and being unable to stop
ar of being prosecuted by district
attorney Jim Garrison for Kennedy's
ssissination

саг of cutting your finger on the Hap
1 envelope

ar of latent homosexuality

+ Fear of latent heterosexuality

+ Fear of latent bisexuality

ar of latent asexuality

* Fear of falling in love with Martha
Mitchell

Fear of not fearing the number. 13
black cats, cracked mirrors. open
umbrellas in the house, shoes or hats

our deposit

т of falling over backward
of marrying your long-lost

nother
Ba

ar of having accomplished nothing

nificant by the age of 30

+ Fear of having accomplished nothing
by the age of 40

“Now the press won't have Louis the Sixteenth
to kick around anymore.”

м7

PLAYBOY

148

ATMOSPHERE PEOPLE о. пол poge 90)

it’s officially called about а quarter to
one, he's already halfway down the stairs
and he winds up eighth in line, right be-
hind Bob, at the chow wagon, which he
calls the roach coach. During lunch at
one of the long picnic tables set up by
the caterers under the grandstand, Otis,
Bob and several of their friends swap
anecdotes about some of the funny ex
periences they've had. Otis tells about
a Marcus Welby episode in which he
played an artist; "We were on location
in Santa Moi he says, "shooting on
а walkway where the company had set
up an art show. Some of us were artists
nd some of us were just looking at the
exhibit. During the scene, some little old
lady came up to me and bought one of
my paintings. She gave me a filty-dollar
bill and I thought 1 was getting a silent
bit out of it. She took the painting and
wandered off, and then I found out she
st some civilian who'd wandered

was

right into the middle of the shot.”
Somebody else had worked a Marcus
Welby scene at Saint John's Hospital
which some extra had fallen asleep on
gurney during the break and had waked
up to find himself being wheeled into an
operating room. Someone said it could
have been the same guy who had once
hidden in a cave on the Fox ranch in
Malibu during a night shooting on one

of the ape pictures, had come to at five
AM. to find the company gone and had
had to hitchhike home in his monkey
suit

Shooting on Banacek resumes in about
in hour, but it's merely another varia

tion of the mornings work and Watt
calls it a wrap about 40 minutes later.
The younger extras look around for
Droopy Mustache, who, they've been
told, will have their pay vouchers. Otis,
however, knows better; he's moving at
the pace of an Olympic sprinter toward
the phone booths, where, on arrival, he
finds Bob already dialing,

Otis calls Central Casting and waits
patiently for one of the a

ency’s operit-

tors to answer. It takes several minutes,
but Otis is used to w

iting.

"Central," the operator finally says

"Oris Pembroke."

TraJay." says the operator and hangs
up.

Otis isn't worried. What the operator
said was “Try later." She could have said
“Nurk,” which means "No work
no hope of a job there for tomorrow.
Central is by far the largest and most.
important of the casting agencies and
Otis gets most of his work from ir. He
takes out more change and begins to call
intending, however, to check

and

clsewher

back at Central within the half hour if
he's still nurking out.

KARL mRINDLE: “I hung on a cross for
three months in Spartacus. 1 never
worked any of the clean calls, like Perk
Lazclle, who's now a casting director
over at Central, Perk was always sitting
around in night clubs and at dinner par-
ties with the pretty people. In any big
musical there'd be a hundred, two hun
dred extras. Today, they'll shoot the same
few people over and over from different
angles and use stock footage for long
shots. A lot of people figure extras are
bums, like ex-cons."

‘The offices of Central Casting Corpora-
tion are located behind a plain cream-
colored door in the middle of what looks
like a hospital corridor on the ground
floor of a small office building in Holly
wood. Behind that door, 23 employees.
including payroll people, work
controlled frenzy. The phones ring all
day long and things really heat up in
midafternoon, the atmosphere
people looking for work begin calling in
every 15 minutes. The calls are processed
by three harassed operators who can and
do handle up to 3000 an hour. If there is
work, they fire the names of the callers
casually into the

amid

when

r over а loud-speaker

to where Central's three full-time casting

| PALL MALL GOLD

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

21 mg "tar; 1.5 mg nicotine av. per cigarette, ЕТС Report MARCH '74

THE LONGER FILTER THAT'S

LONG ON TASTE

directors sit at а long counter separated
from the switchboard by a glass parti-
tion, The casting directors listen 10 the
drone of names as they shullle through
the teletyped orders from the studios

ıd when they hear one they think they
can use, they'll shoot it down by picking
up their own phone and requesting the
extra they want from the switchboard.
Most of the 3000 working extras are reg-
istered with Central, which means that
the casting directors have to be able to
identify them instantly as to age, type
and specific looks simply from hearing
А good casting director will

their names
say, "What do you look like
man at а smaller agency did
“Hello, dear, are you still

never or
ask, as om

some time аро,

tall?" The casting men ас Central—La-
zelle, Bobby Taylor and Bill O'Dris
coll—are the best im the business, all

ex atmosphere people themselves.
By the end of the week, though, they

are exhausted. Their normal working
hours are from seven or eight a.s. till
six, when the switchboard closes, but

they don’t leave till all the casting orders
ue filled and its not unusual to be
called at home, as Taylor was late onc
t recently, when some studio got
him out of bed to chase down five fire-

men, "capable, hardy athletic types who
сап handle а hose.” Also, on the very
day Otis has been rooting his imaginary

winners home at Hollywood Park, thc

folks at Central, in addition to all their
routine duties, have been interviewing
new applicants. Anyone who wants to
become atmosphere cam at least get an
appointment at Central, though few are
fewer get union

chosen and past the
watchdogs
Doug Dakin
ager. does the preliminary
He's a tall. soft-spoken, le
man who's been around the movie busi-
ness, casting 1952. He
runs the interviewees in and out of his
office in three or minutes, then
turns the likelicr-looking ones over to
Taylor for a final screening. "We take in
a handful of people every time,” he says
"but few of them stick it ош. Under
Taft-Haruey. they can work for thirty

days before they have to join the union

Central's general man-

aterviewing

hery-looking

mostly in since

four

but even if they get in, a lot of them lose
This [
has accepted Steve.

interest." rticular Central

cod looking young

guy who labors part time as a set dresser
Gary, a sporty type whose father works in
wardrobe at Universal and who comes
recommended by Rock Hudson; Tony, a
black night student from Cal State who
is into martial arts; Teri, a petite bru-
nette whose family has been in showbiz
for five generations and who says she has
a fabulous wardrobe, “backless, frontless,
topless, bottomless, you name it"; Carol,
a tall, за Чоок іи young widow who can

do “a little bit of everything"; Bisquitta,
a sexy Swedish cocktail waitress; and
Alise, a perky blonde unemployed school-
teacher with nice legs who specialize
she says, in “everything.”

"You know what I really need?"
Dakin sayy later. "Madison Avenue types
forty-five and sixty-five and
cighteen-ycar olds who look younger. Go

between

and find them,"

At 539 par, Otis calls in for the
fourth time. "Central" ihe operator
says.

"Otis Pembroke.”
Lazelle picks up his phone. "Otis,
have you worked Emergency the last ten

day
“No, Perk. How are you?"
"Im fine. Otis, you're a security

guard. Seven-thirty at Universal. Check
in and go to wardrobe,"
“Love ya," Otis says and hangs up.
KARMEL LOUGENE: "I was Miss Seal
Beach and they told me I belonged in

the movies. My first job 1 was a hooker
and 1 didn’t understand about the cam
era. 1 looked right ito it with this big
smile and the director screamed. 1 told
him 1 was relating to the beauty of the
surroundings. I also do lots of secretaries
Ч I'm in so many

and stewardesses

pools 1 carry my hair drier, cream rinse,

149

PLAYBOY

150

"But I'm rich, damn it. I can afford to waste
the earth's resources.”

ni in my bag. I don't
mind working as a sex object, because 1
have my head together and it doesn't
bother me.”

Otis shows up nearly an hour early
Universal the following ng, parks
in the back lot and stops in at the extr
casting office, which is right next to ward-
robe. Karl Brindle, the studio's m:
ge of atmosphere, and his as
dy Rape (a fine name for a
) have been at work since
AM. busily checking in the approxi-
mately 240 extras the studio will be
using that day on its various TV series
nd features, Karl greets Ош aly
nd asks him how things have been
going. "Not bad,” Otis says, "but 1 don't
Tike the new contract. I've been working
rly e for mum. In the
old days, Fd have hassled the A.D.s for a
whammy or two. You should have seen
me cheer right behind George Peppard
yesterday.”

Karl laughs. “But youre working for
forty-five dollars a day now instead of
twenty-five,” and you don't
have to bust the A.D.'s balls negotiating
lik Arab for а few more bucks.
What's wrong with th

Otis smiles. “Nothing, really,” he says.
“1 enjoyed it, that’s a

Otis, Karl and €
member the good-bad old days very well,
Iso like to reminisce about them. A
whammy was worth 511 and a double or
le would make for a good day. The
m was borrowed [rom the Lil Abner
comic strip in the Fifties, when some
threatened to “put the
" on any ADs who wouldn't
bump théir basic pay up for doing what
is now known as a silent bit. The term

morn

he says

Ш of whom

stuck, but what made one was usually up
Tor grabs, with some extras argu
just being recognizs
ii entitled them to more m.
ig that nothing
short of an actor strangling an
screen constituted а true whammy or
bump. Today the basic day's
but additional money can be
а true silent bit (the extra being st
gled) or a scene requiri 1 abilities
(riding a motorcycle) day.
Hazardous work (driving a car through
series of explosions) can boost an extra's
рау as much as S300 over contract—
although the extra must haggle for it on
the set before the scene is shot. "Ius much
more structured. now. ys. “The
old contract was a Fi n. but it
also more fun nes pro-
duced a lot acters.”

Like Cap Somers а big strong man
with a bulbous nose à la W. C. Fields. He
used to speck a lot of calls and some-
times he'd grab the studio casi
tors around the neck and hold on
he got a pay voucher. De Mille loved
him, even though Somers would. practi
cally push the stars out of the v
order to emote. Or Tiny Jones, whom
Karl remembers as a thin little old woman
her 70s who'd stand in front of the

studio gates and swing at the casting
directors. with her umbrella if they
wouldn't give her work. Or Glen Wal-

ters, a huge mountain woman who stood
off the cops with a shotgun when they
came to bulldoze her home in Ch
Ravine t0 make way for Dodger Stadium.

And then, of course, there was OK
ous extra of all
name because he al-
mything that was of-
fered or said to him. OK Freddie used to

vez

Freddie, the most
time, who got his

walk around hunched over, whistling as
he peered at the ground and occasionally
squeezing a rubber ball he kept in his
pocker that made a sound like a fart. He
had a huge collection of junk he'd accu-
mulated from other people's droppings.
but what made him a Hollywood cele!
rity was the size of his penis. "The first
time I ever saw him was on the set of
Stalag 17," Karl recalls. "It was my first
job and I was very idealistic and excited

Iked on the set and the first thing Т

this guy beating his dong ag
side of a truck." The stars used to bet
on the hty organ fully
tended and somebody once lined up 18
nickels silver dollar on it. One of
OK Freddie's most celebrated exploits
was the crashing of an elegant party
at which he appeared im a waiters
outfit passing around a way of hors
d'oeuvres, Nestled among the sal
slices, the eream dip and the little
wiches lay Freddie's pecker. Nobody no-
ticed anything amiss until one keen-eved
lady spotted the monstrous thing and
jabbed a pickle fork into it. "I have a
friend who knew him,” Otis says, “who
swears she was the only one in town who

ng.

LARRY CHARLES: "Im a star in Brazil.
Ten years ago, I made a picture down
there that finally got released hi a
porno flick after they spliced in a lot of
outside sex scenes. 1 made eighteen pic-
tures in seven years, but trying to get
paid was something else. Now I go back
and forth. I'm hoping II get a break
here. I figure that being on the property
is better than sitting at home waiting on
your agent. It’s too bad hardly anyone in
the industry ever looks to the extra pool
for talent. We have a lot of qualified
people.

Otis Pembroke is а q
but he never wi
g anything but wl Like Bob
and Arthur Tovey and Alice
nd David Greene and Ernesto
ıd Louise Lane and Stewart
Evelyn Dutton and 4

person,
ymore about

he is.

made it, ii
owi

his own world and on his

terms. Now, as he emerges from
rdrobe dressed in the blue uniform of
a private security guard and heads to-
ward the main lot, where Emergency is
g. knowing that he'll arrive, as al-
td few minutes early, he
looks up at the smoggy gray sky over the
studio rooftops and sighs. “I guess this is
all there is,” he says. “I'm alone now,
I keep busy. I'm going to wor
drop. And after that, well, if there is a

са

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW (continued from page 61)

finally man. If anyone was just dreaming
up the whole story,
man first, then water. He might have
mixed it all up.
PLAYBOY: You also write about tachyons,
the theoretical particles, not yet discov-
ered, that would travel faster than light.
You write, "Scientists know that tachyons
must exist.” Can you think of any scien-
tists who have said that?
VON DANIKEN: Yes. Several.
PLAYBOY: Who:
VON DANIKEN: Well, whether they go so far
as to say "must," 1 couldn't be sure.
PLAYBOY: Do astronomers I. S. Shklovski
and Carl Sagan believe, as you assert
Chariots, that the moons of Mars а
artificial?
VON DANIKEN: In their book, /ntelligent
Life in the Universe, they have published
such studies.
PLAYBOY: Isn't there a difference between
reporting а study and advocating it
yoursel
VON DANIKEN: Ves,
"suggest." In the G
they “say yes” to the theory-
PLAYBOY: So it’s a problem of translation?
VON DANIKEN: Yes. Sometimes translators
don't know what they're translating.
PLAYBOY: Unfortunately, millions of Eng-
lish-language readers are being told that
these two astronomers believe Mars has
artificial moons.
VON DANIKEN: Thats utterly wrong.
PLAYBOY: On another subject, you write,
"Our radio astronomers send signals into
the universe to make contact with un-
known intelligence." But, in fact, no such
experiment has ever been performed.
VON DANIKEN: Oh, it has. Sagan should
know this very well.
PLAYBOY: Well, we asked Sagan about it.
He called it a common misconception.
He added. as an opinion of your wi
“The kindest thing I can say about Von
Däniken is that he ignores the science of
archacology. Every time he secs some-
thing he can't understand, he attributes
it to extraterrestrial intelligence, and
since he understands almost nothing, he
sees evidence of extraterrestrial intel
gence all over the planet.”
VON DANIKEN: Yes. Well, once in the States
1 watched a TV program with Sagan, J.
Allen Hynck, the UFO specialist from.
Northwestern University, and two or
three other gentlemen. One was a he
copter pilot who said he encountered a
UFO that turned the air bluc. He and
three other men aboard the helicopter
tried to make a quick landing, but some
force lifted them up thousands
then suddenly went away. Sagan
id they must have suffered from a delu-
sion. Hynek said, “What about the altim-
eter? Did it have a delusion, too’
After the program, those of us watch
ing decided that а man like Sagan thinks
he is the only one to whom everybody

else should listen, and people who see
UFOs should have to convince scientists
ke him that what they say is truc. We
decided, no, they should not have to con
vince such scientists, because the scien-
tists do not want to be convinced.
PLAYBOY: Don't you have arguments with
UFO enthusiasts yourself, because you
don't believe in flying saucers:

VON DANIKEN: Yes, but it's a difficult sub-
ject. I have never seen а UFO. What
1 know about them is second- or third-
hand, from a newspaper story or what
someone tells me. I see no reason they
could not exist, but many of the reports
you get do not seem serious. I have re-
ceived several hundred photos in the
mail from my readers, but not onc of
them has impressed me as an authentic
UFO photo. Not one.

PLAYBOY: What other sorts of letters do
you get?

VON DANIKEN: From all sorts of people.
Recently 1 did an artide for a Sunday
newspaper in Germany. They analyzed
the mail that came in and they found let-
ters from 12-year-olds, from grandmoth-
cis, cabdrivers and top scientists. Гуе also.
received about 20 leuers—all from the
United States; they must be especially
silly therefrom people swearing the
are extraterrestrials. They say, “I'm fron
outer space, I'm only here for a short
time, you can meet me at such and such
a time and place." It's usually someplace
like Nevada. I have never gone to any of
those meetings.

PLAYBOY: Do you concern yourself with
legends like the Abominable Snowman?
Do you think he might be an astronaut?
VON DANIKEN: That is not in my field of
research.

PLAYBOY: What about stories of fish rain-
ing Irom the skies, people turned into
frogs, magic slippers?

VON DANIKEN: I have to be careful here,
because I do this sort of thing myself —L
mean, this is what archacologists say
about some of my stories—but I think
most of these things have natural
explanations.

PLAYBOY: Tell us about the book you're
working on now.

VON DANIKEN: In one short chapter, I
speak about Jesus. I give many lectures
and constantly 1 am asked questions by
y Jesus was an astronaut
That makes me laugh. I'm definitely sure
Jesus had nothing to do with astronauts,
and I want to say so once and for all.
PLAYBOY: Jesus did fly up into space, in a
sense.

VON DANIKEN: Y: nd he said, "In my fa
ther's house are гаа! nsions," and on
the mountain he was surrounded by fire.
There are things in the Bible about Jesus
which, if you wanted to do it, you could
press into such a theory.

PLAYBOY: Yes?

people who sa

VON DANIKEN: But it's silly. There is nc
reason to say Jesus came from space.
Why, then, did he die on the cross? Wh.
did he leave behind? Not Christianity:
that didn't come for several generations,
in a completely dilferent way, put to
gether by Saint Paul.
PLAYBOY: Maybe Saint
astronaut.
VON DANIKEN: Oh, God. forget it.
PLAYBOY: Should the fact that you are a
convicted fraud and embezzler influence
whether or not people listen to what you
have to say?
VON DANIKEN: You know, many people
who have been in jail say they were not
guilty. I say the same thing. 1 have nev
committed fraud or embezzlement, al-
though it is true I have been convicted of
those things. I was improperly convicted
three times, but cach time for the same
thing. It was all part of the s
PLAYBOY: What do you mean?
VON DANIKEN: 11 was ridiculous. In 1968 I
left for a world trip. There was a tax bill
open, true, but before I left, I made ar-
rangements with the tax. office, so arrest
ing me on my way back, in Vienna, was
ridiculous. All the big newspapers were
on my side and wrote against the prose-
cutor, and so he had to defend himsell.
He found a di
should have done years before, conce
ing money 1 had borrowed and later re
paid. It was all a construction by the
prosecutor

I really don't want to go into detail
because 1 don't think it has anything to
do with my work. It’s very easy to say that
because a person has been in jail he's not
scrious, and you can't believe what he
says. Personally, I find that way of think-
arrogant

Paul was an

у 1

ng very and unfair. People
don't ask if Christ was convicted of a
crime. What has that to do with the mes
ge Christ brought? What does my h
їй, guilty or innocent, hav
ith my work?

PLAYBOY: A last question comes to mind
because of our favorite of your theories—
the one in Gold of the Gods in which yo
suggest that the banana was brought to
Earth from space. Were you scrious?

VON DANIKEN: No, and not m
realize that.

PLAYBOY: That leads us to ask
your writing is a put-on. Are you,
writer suggested, “the most brilliant sati
rist in German literature for a century
VON DANIKEN: The answer is yes and n
We have a wonderful term in Ga 1
jein. 105 a combination of ja and nein,
yes and no. In some part, absolutely not;
1 mean what I say seriously. In other
ways, 1 mean to make people laugh.
PLAYBOY: Well, you've succeeded in both

aims.

пу people

if all
one

151

SUSAN RENNIE AND KIRSTEN GRIMSTAD
new women

7r FREQUENTLY MEER MEN who can't understand why I dislike
being called a girl—but those same men have no difficulty com-
prehending blacks’ objection to being called boys." Both labels,
explains Susan Rennie (right). denote a kind of perpetual im-
maturity: ie, inferiority, Across the country, women are turn-
ing away Irom noisy demonstrations to more pragmatic projects
med at comb antifemale bias. “But nobody knew what
anybody else was doing.” says Rennie’s fellow Barnard gradu-
ше Kirsten. Grimstad. “We felt almost obligated to get infor-
mation about these eflorts out to women, whether they call
themselves feminists or not." The result is The New Woman's

Survival Catalog. Readers of the book, which is designed in the
The Whole Earth Catalog, can find out where t0 get
ers, abortion clinics, sell-

se for hitchhikers (keep
d car repairs and a variety of "re
htorange apron emblazoned FUCK HOUSEWORK! a photo
poster of Golda Meir captioned BUT cay stk TYPE’). Both
Grimstad, 2 ersity positions—
Grimstad a s an assist

president hour days
getting the book t ting with a 12.000-mile research
circuit of the country. Rennie, a native of South Africa whose
grandmother was а suffragette, has returned to teaching—polit-
ical science, at the State University of New York in Purcha:
while Grimstad works full time sequel, Women's response
10 the present edition has, pe been enthu
m

haps predictably,
‚ the editors report, Men's? “Well,” says
run into three types: the fascinated man, who realizes he,
too, can be liberated; the closet pig. who pretends interest but,
underneath, is threatened; and the open pig, whom we uy to
avoid. Actually, we don't like to use the term pig when referring
152 to such men." Why not? “Because pigs are very intelligent.”

siasti

EVA RUBINSTEIN

PAUL SEQUEIRA

STEVE WILLIAMS dashing young man

M RUN

EN т

NING ALONE at night on the beach, my mind
roams and my spirit s I run along the sand for a while
then dip down into the water and it makes me feel clean;
almost a baptismal act.” Such lyrical sentiments flow casually
from Steve Williams. a 20-ycar-old sprinter from San Di
State University who last year. after equaling the then world
record of 9.1 seconds for rhe 100-yard dash, said, “I am of the
opinion that PH break n Such assurance reflects a
m, resilient ego, sometl ks perceptively
"People think egos a dirty word. Like a drinking
э one wants to admit to it.” After an indoor season
at saw him beat lew times in the 60-yard dash, one mig
wonder how his was holding up. “I found the indoor season
instructive,” he says. "I was more concerned with satisfying
у own goals than those others may have set for me." Wil-
ms was born and raised in the south Bronx but left that
sphere free of s ad sell-desiructive habits. "If. you're

ars

going to survive in the city, you have to find an internal pi
nd cling to it. I's been vital to my stability. After future
shock has killed the rest of the world, New Yorkers will live

ıı and on." He sees his own future as a series of specific steps.
"Fm looking forward to the 76 Olympics. And after school,
Га be receptive to pro track. But I also want a second care
1 work pretty hard in school and I'm majoring now in telecom-

mications with » English, I'd like someday 10 be a
broadcaster. It seems to me that if you're successful in more
than one field, yo ng to be a bard man to throw off bal
ance." More immediately, he w the world’s best
in the 40-yard dash. “I think that’s where I'll finally do best.
It's a thinking race. not something purely anatomic. I could sec
winning the 100 and the 440 in the Olympics. Nobody's ev
done that. I think I could be the first." The ego again, readi-
ing for new tests, which is finally what makes Williams run.

minor

KINKY FRIEDMAN & THE TEXAS JEWBOYS
good ole boychiks

“COWBOYS AND JEWS have a common bond," says Kinky (Rich-
ard) Friedman, leader of one of the weirdest bands 4.
“They're the only two groups of people in the world who
hats indoors and attach а ce п amount of im-
al in a Menoralvemblazoned cowboy shirt
and as Rangers hat, Kinky, backed by his band, belts
out such songs as We Reserwe the Right to Refuse Service to
You (“Baruch Atoh Adonai; What you doin’ back there, boy
ad The Ballad of Charles Whitman, commemo
Texas campus slaughter. "Our act is 98 percent bullet
says Kinky. “Bigots love us. But someday we hope to reach Mr.
and Mrs. Backporch." Born in Rio. Duckworth, Texas,
1944, "on the family teat for 30 years,
with a few minor spells of wanderin: clan t in the
Peace Corps. “1 almost went bonkers in Borneo,” he confesses.
“Because of a monsoon, 1 couldn't get my seeds upriver, so T
got my mom to send me a shipment of Frisbees. You mig
y I introduced the Frisbee to Borneo.” In 1971, back in the
States and armed. with
Hebrew lessons, Lat

elman has been

ga si

ı medley of tunes born of “repressed
terature and jungle languages." Kinky
ked up his new band (named after Bob Wills and. the
Texas Playboys) and headed for LA. Alter eight m
months of haggling with the mostly Јем Is of the re-
cording industry, Friedman went home—but he was spouted
on the way by 73 bunch of Catholic hillbillies from Жакау
and the result was |
album, soon to be released, will be heavier musically,
Kinky admits he'd like to stay as off the wall as possible. “We're
doing this album on a dillerent label." he says. “The same folks
who did Jim Croce, so we expect it 10 sell really big." Yes, but
Croce's records didn't sell big until after he died. “We know
that,” says Kinky. "We're looking into private planes, too.

RICHARD R. HEWETT

PLAYBOY

154

brown sugar

{continued from page 72)
particularly want to talk about that, so
d her to fill us in on current
urns out she just completed a
a small-town secretary, believe
not—in a Clint Eastwood fick,

it or
Thunderbolt & Lightfoot. “Since I'd
never acted before, I tried to relate it, in

my mind, to recording—but it's different.
because you can't get that instant play-
back.” She was expecting to read for
other roles in the near future—and also
ther tour, when-

10 take her band on

ever her agency got i

together. And she
nd the bass, as

was learning the guitu
well as writing songs. Sell-improvement is
a big thing with her: "I try to learn some-
thing every day—at least one thing, no
matter how small or subtle. A person can
never expand enough. | might go next
week and sign up for a course in astran-
omy, 1 don't know. Everything has а
structure, and the more structures vou can
get to know about, the better olf you are.

Claudia's next album, she promised,
would convey more of her complex inner
sell than Tast year's Warner Bros. release
Phew!, which had been
by Allen. Toussaint,
ol the funky:
the collaboration hadn't panned out as

it should have. Claudia told us that the
Warner Bros. people didn't give them
enough freedom: "Producers.
most part, are frustrated musicians. So
they like to sit in the booth and pull other
people's strings. It’s a shame. really. be-
cause you should have to pay for your
blues." Claudia has certainly paid for
hers—but she’s got a way of making
s work out all right. She calls her
htvear-old daughter—who was spend-
ing the week with her brother's family—
“the best mistake J ever made. I I were
ty percent sure ГА get her, Fd gamble
again. But you know, 1 don't see myself
in her at all, especially myself at that
If I'd been mother, I'm sure I
wouldn't even be h n

for the

xc.

y own
1 was

e now

a spoiled brat.”

About this time—it was getting into
the afternoon and the Mansion was wak-
ing up—somebody put a record on the
stereo. "1 have to dance to this.” said
Claudia, And dance she did—to the Isley

lady?"
Claudia

Brothers, singing, "Who's that
Who, indeed? As we said befor
Le t at all sure who she is. Aud.
she told us, "l'm not consistent. in the
way Lact with others.” But if her iden-
tity is in question—or in flux—she's not
going to worry
gening by so f
that getting by.

near

ve been

bout it
” she told us. If you са

“Опе generally doesn't see them this close to shore."

PRO FOOTBALL PREVIEW

(continued from page 134)
that, incredibly, is made up entirely of
astolfs. Norm Evans was shipped from
Houston in the expansion draft of 1966

best in the bus

NESS:

EASTERN DIVISION
AMERICAN FOOTBALL CONFERENCE

Miami Dolphins ...
Buffalo Bills .

Baltimore Colts -
New York Jets..
New England Patriots ->

The other notso-secret ingredient of
the Dolphins success i» the masterful
coaching of Don Shula, Much of Shuli's
cffectivencss results from the nature of
his relationship with his players. He
eschews rah-rah pep talks. inspirational
dressing room signs and petty rules about
dress and deportment. As a result, the
Dolphins are consummate professionals.
They come together on the field. do their
jobs with proficiency, then go home to
their families.

Since the squad.

now in its physical
prime (Nick Buoniconti, at 33. is the
oldest starter), few newcomers will make
the team, despite the fact that the Dol-
phins, drafting last, got most of the
players they wanted. Punt and kickoff
returner Nat Moore has the best с
splash as a rookie
If the Dolph are ch
own division, the Buffalo Bills will do it.
fac. ilar to Miami i
y ways. They're young (the squad's

age age is 2

icc

llenged in their

25), the offensive line is
suddenly excellent (it transmogrified. in
a single year from one of the worst to one
of the best), the quarterbacking is good
(Joe Ferguson matured more in one sea-
son than most do in five) and the running
game is relentless (О. J. Simpson does
most of the ball carrying. but Jim Brax-
ton is no slouch, and rookie Carlester

Ciumpler has all the equipment to be
ckup ma

ni the
far better than most fans
ly since Wal Patulski
g together
g their four years to-
gether at Notre Dame. they seem to in-
spire cach other, And the coaching i
1-class. Lou Saban is not just an execu-
tive supervisor who lets his assistants do
the gr eld work: he is, in fact,
nd runningback
antly, the Bills?
п. The leaders are Simp-
ve guard Reggie McKen-
J- alls "my main r

роп In a
defensive
realize,

nd N

again, and, as dui

especi.

e Kadish are pla

zie, whom О.

they lead а squad that, oozing with confi-
dence and detecting the first heady whiffs
of success, is the least likely to welcome
on-disrupting players’ strike.

timore is on the way up, too, but
the Colts’ development is running at
least а year behind Buffalo's. After n
ly two ye ximony, created b

gen-
eral manager Joc Thomas’ decision to

dismantle ng and increasingly inef-
fective team, the squad's vocal malcon-
tents seeing Tho shrewdly
conceived plans begin to jell and have
ceased their demands to be waded, Best
of all, the Colts’ recently quiescent f
returned to their best form with Balti
more’s stunning victory over the Dol-
phins late last season. Thomas has finally
made believers of Colt followers with his
wise drafts the past two years, He's a
canny judge of talent and a cunning ne-
gotiator, Last January, with two first
two second- and two third-round draft
choices, he cleaned up. Rookie defensive
ends John Dutton and Fred Cook will
help solve the Colts’ main weakness—an
insipid pass rush. The other maj
Jem, ineffective quarterbacking,
helped by an added year of experience for
youthful Bert Jones and Marty Domres.
Two good rookie pass receivers, Roger
id Fred Scott (from Amherst, of
es), give the Colts unusual depth
at that position.

The New York Jets will probably have
more new players this fall t ny other
team in the league. Coach. Charley Win-
ner, who is n herits а squ
heavily populated with graybeards, so
many as six rookies should be starters be-
fore the season ends. Both the offen

are

ans

w himself,

nesses, will feature two 2Lkt. rool
Carl Barzilauskas and Godwin Turk on
defense, Gordon Browne and Bill Wy
on offense. Newcomer Greg Ganu w
improve last year’s atrocious punti
another rookie, Roscoe Word, will return
kicks. The Jets fortunes have hinged in
recent seasons on the precarious health of
Joe Namath, but replacement Al Woodall
did such a co ble job last season
at coach Winner feels he can have a
regardless of Namath’s status.
an emotional coach and if his
enthusiasm infects the usually blasé Jets,
they might be respectable. If not, New
York football e to pray
for the С

When coach Chuck F nks went to
New England a year ago, he did а master
ful job of organizing the coaching май,
the front office and. the team. What he
couldn't do, despite а ‘73 draft bo

za,
was put together enough good players to
field a winning team. Nor will he make

much progress this year unless he finds

some gems among the 75 free agents he

“1 suppose you've had many moving experiences.”

has signed. Last winter's draft was nearly
a dry run, especially in those places—de-
isive line and linebacker—where help
s necded most. Despite the need for tal-
ent, only four or five new players will
start this season. Two of them, safety
Jack Mildren and receiver Dick Gordon,
are veterans obtained via trades. Among
the draftees, only offensive lineman Steve
Corbett and linebacker Steve Nelson have
a chance to break into the line-up. The
running game is also weak, featuring Sam
Cunningham and not much else. Still,
the Pats could rise above list years’ 5-9
record. They do have John Hannah
and Cunningham, who emerged as team

leaders during their rookie year, and the
banks. One of his assist-
ants told “The sportswriters are

wrong about Fairbanks. He's no marti
He just doesn't take any bullshi
the players.”

CENTRAL DIVISION
AMERICAN FOOTBALL CONFERENCE
Pittsburgh Steelers ......
Cincinnati Bengals .......

Houston Oilers .
Cleveland Browns .

The Pittsburgh Steelers have histori
cally been losers in the N.F.L. Not any-
more. This year will mark the first time

in history they've had three winning
seasons in a row. Their A.F.C. Central
title in 1972 was the first champions)
of any kind they had ever won. And yet
Pittsburgh Гап», seeing their heroes suffer
the indignity of a playoff loss to Oak-
land, have turned sullen and are de-
dling changes.

The only real d

nge needed is relief
from last уса jury epidemic that
claimed such ke ers as quarterback.
Terry Bradshaw and runner Franco Har-
ris. If the Steelers remain
healthy, they should be the top team in
the strongest division of the N.F.L. Since
the Steelers are manned with good young
players nearly everywhere (the only posi-
tion where age will soon become a prob-
lem is at linebacker), coach Chuck Noll
drafted for insurance depth. If Noll
returns to the frequent use of his threc-
wide-receiver olfense (a strong probabil-
йу. with so many good ones), тоо
Lynn Swann will play a Jot of footba
‘The other draftees will be lucky to make
the final 40-member squad.

The Cincinnati Bengals, long. chron
icled as a yo 1 with a great future,
reached [ull maturity last scasom. Un-
fortunately for them, the other teams in
their division have improved so much
that the Be
chance of d.

ng tci

gals have а less than ever
as well this year. T

155

PLAYBOY

156

only apparent squad weakness is too few
quality reserves, especially in the defen-
e line; but that problem was largely
solved, as usual, by the draft. (Using a
minimal scouting crew, player personnel
director Pete Brown's draft selections are
more astute than those of most teams
that. use the huge scouting combines.) As
always the Bengals’ biggest aset is the
coaching expertise and awesome person-
ality of owner Paul Brown. His
pl almost” eerie.
One of Brown's players once confided to
us, "When I was a little kid going to Sun.
y school, my mental image of God
looked just like coach. Brow:

The Houston Oilers should be the
most improved team in the league this
year, and alter wo 1-13 years in a row.
that wouldn't seem to be a difficult ac
complishment. The principal reason for
the upsurge is head coach Sid Gillma
who had intended ıo step aside i
«ember alter (aking over a dismally disor
son. By the final
ges were so dram:
t to Gillman and
So the squad's morale is aston
ishingly good. “You'd think they were
champions." one of Gillman's assistants
remarked alier they nearly defeated C
innati near the end of the season. The
Oiles do have some good football
players and it's unlikely that there'll be a
repetition of the rush of injuries that
emaciated the offensive Ime and defen-
sive backfield last season. They had an-
other problem throughout 1972-1973—
talented but uncoord
defensive linemen, none of whom had
r teamwork
ing corps should help
the defensive unit. Gillman says that
Dan Рамогіпі, Lynn Dickey and Edd
Hargett are the best trio of quarterbacks
the league, With runners George
Amundson and. Bill "Thomas (who have
reatness), Gil
has all the necessary ingredients for his
coach lty, a high-scoring offense.

"The Cleveland Browns were supposed
to return to powerhouse status last sea
son, largely because they had two first-
round and two second-round draft choices
3. But three of the four supa
rookies were busts, with only diminutiv
runner Greg Pruitt fulfilling expecta
tions; the two firstrounders who disap
pointed last season, receiver Steve Holden
(who was slow to develop) and offensive
tackle Pete Adams (who injured his knec),
could contribute this year. Only one new-
comer, runner Billy Pritchett, has an out-
side chance of making it big. If he gets
down to a skinny 230 pounds, he could
be a terror—the big backfield bull the
Browns have been looking for ever since
Jim Brown retired. Cleveland's defense
is set. Bob Babich, whose arrival was the

coach

total devotion is

sked him

wed group of

primary reason for the defensive unit's
improvement in 73, is the best middle
linebacker in the Browns’ history and has
become the driving personality of the de-
fense. His charisma should get a good
workout this year: unless the offen-
sive line is vastly strengthened and the
receivers abandon their let’s-see-who-
can-drop-the-most-passes competition, the
defenders will be on the field most of
the ti

WESTERN DIVISION
AMERICAN FOOTBALL CONFERENCE

Oakland Raiders . 95
Denver Broncos 84
Kansas City Chiefs . £3
San Diego Chargers 3-11

Fhe Oakland Raiders continue their
gridual—and almos imperceptible—ic-
building, mostly with their own draft

. ind had been

year, draftees Dave С
and Pete Wessel (defensive back) have
the best chances of making the team.
The Raiders, historically offense oriented,
were aided last year by a suddenly superb
defense, and it should be even better this
year if the backfield can avoid the debili-
ies of age. Tony Cline, who doubles as
linel l end, is perhaps the most
underrated player in the league, Coach
John Madden's principal concern will be
ments for
nd Ken
Stabler, both of whom will eventually
depart for the W.F.L.

For the Denver Broncos, it’s a season
of big ils: If John. Rowser, obtained [rom
the Steelers. can fill the need at corner-
back; if offensive guard Paul Howard
improved enough to become it st
er; if rookie linebacker Randy Gradishar
lives up to his advance billing:
John Hufnagel develops into
quate backup quarterback, the Broncos
1 be an even bet to beat the Raiders
ad become division champions. Their
linebackers should be better this year
with the return of
son. Coach John Ralston’s motivational
tactics will presumably continue to i
spire his players. He is a unique coach,
uncompromisingly proestablishment
power-ol-positive-thinking advocate with
а toothy smile and а disposition th
makes Pollyanna look like a pessimist.
He spends his time being a good guy
leaves the ass kicking 10 h
fact, the Bronco coaching si
cial meet

cker a

the sea
expla
him.

the next days game plan to
Then g the games, he makes

dui

decisions about kicking, keeps track of
the score and acis as head cheerleader
And it works. So well, in fact, that the
3

Broncos could get to the Super Bowl їп
s
draft is one of the finest we've
s City
with

had in a long time,” exulted Kans
m. In comparisoi
ars, he wasn't indulging i
еб, espec
line,

recent y
perbole. Many of the Ci

members of the offen
ting old, so rooki
groomed for future help up front.
even more immediate need may be ful
filled by first-round choice Woody Green.
who'll be the Chiefs first good outside
runner since Mike Garrett. Still, Stram
will have trouble holding his squad to
gether until replacements can take over
The San Diego Chargers will be one of
the most changed teams in the league.
beginning with the new coaching stall,
headed by "Tommy Proihro. Former head
coach Sid Gillman (who quit in а huff
during the 71 season) was a strong father
figure. His successor, Harland Svare, be
lieved that players should be self-moti
vated. Unfortunately. that approach led
to things like players’ being fied by
the N.F.L. for using drugs. Prothro, cool
but tough, brings a much-needed strong
hand to the controls. As а college coach,
he had a way of wringing the last drop of
potential from the available talent. This
should come in handy at San Diego,
because the Charger squad exhibits an
cvenly spr ly every
position is up for grabs, and an extraor-
dinarily talented group of draftees could
provide as many as s
runner Bo Matthe
instant stardom, But even w
luck, it will be another grim autumn in
San Di

ср

th the best

EASTERN DIVISION
NATIONAL FOOTBALL CONFERENCE

Dallas Cowboys К ai
Washington Redskins 3 E
St. Louis Cardinals . 6
Philadelphia Eagles XI
New York Giants ... 5

Two years ago, the Dallas Cowboys
had become dangerously long of tooth
and the team's decline and fall seemed
imminent But coach Tom Landry has
managed the neat trick of rebuilding, so
that, almost unnoticed, an old talented
team has become a young talented team,
Two rookies—defensive end Ed Jones
and linebacker Cal Peterson—would be
immediate sta nost anywhere else
but will be lucky to see more than mi
mal action this season, Running back
Charles Young is likely to be groomed—
in the late stages of runaway games—as
Calvin Hill's replacement. (Hill is going

tery

“What sex show? They're jus. t part c of the regular
crowd that hangs out in here."

his leadership incendiary, the line played
laudably and the Eagle offense became
the second best in professional football.
psed, espe
c ind. McCor-
mack spent much of the off-season on the
phone trying to make defensive trades. If
the Eagles become contenders, it will be
because he found defensive help: if he
hasn't, they won't.

We can’t recall ever having seen a
team exhibit a more shocking reversal of
form than the New York Giants in 1973.
After looking invincible in preseason
the squad was hit with injuries. Organ
zation sulfered because the team head-
quartered in New York, practiced in
New Jersey and played in Connecticu
After losing the third and fourth games
Cleveland and Green Bay) in
the last few minutes, the team was emo-
tionally drained, and it never recovered.
The rest of the season was а nighu

To the rescue in (you could
I'd like lo marry you, Roger, almost hear the Lone Hanger theme

but it isn't often a girl gels a chance to have a man shoot trumpeting in the
himself over her, either.” new head coach Bill Arnsparger, a cert
fied defensive genius. After spending

PLAYBOY

the off-season viewing films of last y
games, Arnsparger “The
to the W.F-L) As usual, waining camp glut of unrealized talent on the defensive weren't really that bad a team. They

will probably uncover a couple of future unit: it was inept last year largely because were victimized by bad breaks and
all-proy nobody had heard of until player of inexperience and injuries. If the breakdowns." Believing firmly
personnel director Gil Brandt, the Sher youngsters сап stay healthy long enough — fashioned, strength-up-the-middle_strate-
lock Holmes of football talent. signed 1o work as а unit, they'll be a good team. gy, Arnsparger used the draft to revive
them as free agents out of South Over- End Dave But, who improved vastly ji; offensive line, which suffered an at-
26 чш In short, the TE iis rookie уы т. wu iu ЕЕЕ ОИ йлн үрүт,
wboys have everything necessary to kle. М e Sloan (anothe : 1
sowboys have everythin necessary t tackle, and he and Bonnie Sloan (another strike is settled quickly enough so that
regain the world championship. second-year man) could become the best i ob
i ; A Е superrookies John Hicks and Tom Mul
‘There is at least onc bit of good news pair of defensive tackles in the game. тае ч
: Е len can get sufficient carly training, the
pitol Hill: Redskins coach George Ihe offense r, will still be the big
5 should both be starters. New de
better team show, because coach Don Coryell teaches Зонт, күн Oe тано m
SU And w a go-orbroke style and, EDO SORS are RE do Pe
соте Allen the seer predicts. George the Cardinals will ag Arnsparger's 753" defense.
Allen the zealous coach fulfill. Last fall, Hart's passes. (There's a severe
the Redskins were bedeviled by persist depth at running back.) Two neweom

nsive

from the no-nonsense approach of new

cnt mi Ш three of their tight end J. V. Cain amd tackle Greg director of operations Andy Robustelli
quarterb: Kindle. should make big offensive contri- d owner Wellington M. promise to
butions, But the Cardinals’ avoid getting in the way. Give Arnspar-
tant asset is a posit ger three years and he'll have the Giants

by Coryell, an i
s earned his pl
tion, Now that h
ball and
а alot of w

se, outgoing man who — playing toe to toe with Dallas. In the
yer respect and devo- meantime, he'll have to be content with
la year in pro ап occasional upset.

he could make

season. CENTRAL DIVISION

linebacker, rook

good chance to squad. The Philadelphia Fagles look like a NATIONAL FOOTBALL CONFERENCE

Offensive guard Walt Sweeney, acquired е of the team that went to

off-season from the Chargers. could win ing camp a year ago. In 1972, the Minnesota Vikings eee $98
» E PR SM Green Bay Packers ...... ==: 18-6.

a starting berth, but unless Allen con- Eagle offense had set a record for futility, Detroit Lons с “е

summates some startling trades before scoring only 115 points. So new coach Chicago Bears ..... We 2p

the season begins, the Redskin sq will ike McCormack, feeling. the defense

be a virtual duplicate of the 73 crew— would be as solid as ever, worked mostly ‘The inexorable inroads of age

only beer, . with the attack unit, which featured sup- beset the Minnesota Vil

The St. Louis Cardinals had а new — posedly washed-up passer Roman the problem hasn't been debilitating, be-
offensive minded head coach briel inated offensive cause the team's older players are in su-
resultantly rej ted attack a line (where rookies aren't supposed to be perb physical condition and they've been

158 mal defense. But the nals have a able to play). When th n opened. able to substitute experience for loss of

a and a rookie

ica

youthful strength and quickness. But it
could all catch up with the Vikings this
year in the form of minor but slow-heal-
ing injuries. With this in mind, coach
Bud Grant looked for draft choices who
could take over almost immediately. Line
backers Fred McNeill and Matt Blair
will compete for the right to displace
Roy Winston, and tackle Steve Riley
will back up Crady Alderman. The Vi
kings’ reliable offensive strengths are
quarterback. E Varkenton. wide re-
ceiver John Gilliam—who has signed a
М.Е. contract Chuck
Foreman. But they badly need added
depth in the defensive backfield and some
good runners to relieve Foreman and Os-
car Reed. Grant will also work to sharpen
the reactions of both lines, which were
unaccountably slow off the ball in the
Super Bowl. Despite all these problems,
the Vikings are still the class tcam in

d. runn

their division and should again be in
the play-offs.

The Green Bay Packers are, in one re-
spect, the Notre Dame of pro football:
more fans outside their home area iden-
tify with the Packers than with any other
team, and their vocal followers make
many road dates seem like home games
Despite this, morale became a serious
problem last season. "There were many
factors, including the loss to injury of de
fensive back Willie Buchanon, a strong
emotional leader on ihe field, and the

unstable quarterback situation, wh

h has

been a problem since Bart Starr's arm
went limp in 1968. Coach Dan Devine's
largest task, however. is to resolve person-
ality conllicts with many of his players
At season's end, quarterback Jim Del
Gaizo said his teammates were too thin
skinned and should face up to their own
shortcomings rather than gripe about De-
vine (which should indicate who'll be
starting at quarterback when this season
opens). The P
other good defensive lineman and a re-
placement for center Ken. Bowman, who

kers also badly need an-

may be retiring, but they ignored those
holes and chose thunderous fullback
Barty Smith for their first-round dralt
pick. If he is as good as his credentials,
and if Devine can work him into the same
backfield with John Brockington, the
Packers could have the strongest ground
me this side of Miami. But injury
prone Del Gaizo must stay healthy if the
Packers are to challenge the Vikings for
the division ch

Detroit h

pionship.
d coach Don McCafferty

faces three immediate problems: choos
ing a number-one quarterback, finding a
suitable replacement for retired line
backer Mike Lucci and, most urgently,
rebuilding the squad's morale before the
season begins. Greg Landry, who still has

(concluded on page 163)

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OY an
d алло

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It's worth the price
to have at least one thing in your life
that's absolutely perfect.
Tanqueray Gin, a singular experience.

PRONOUNCE IT "TANKER-RAY" DISTILLED & BOTTLED IN LONDON, 100% NEUTRAL SPIRITS.
94.6 PROOF. IMPORTEO BY SOMERSET IMPORTERS LTO . NY.

PLAYBOY POTPOURRI

people, places, objects and events of interest or amusement

DOING IT BY THE NUMBERS
We should have known it would be downhill for
General Mills after they stopped sponsoring
The Lone Ranger. Now they ve gotten themselves
into something really weird—Craft Master
Personal Painting kits (P. O. Box 123, Toledo,
Ohio), which turn your favorite photo into a
paint-by-the-numbers project. All you do
is send a photo and $19.95; about four weeks
later, the postman will deliver a 16" x 20”
numbered panel, oils matched to your picture,
plus brushes, painting guide and practice panel.
Dorian Gray, eat your heart out!

THE DARK IS LIGHT ENOUGH
You devil, you. You've lured her to your apartment to see your
erotic etchings, stuffed her martini olive with Spanish fly, turned
on your six-hour tape of spider monkeys in heat and slipped into
something more comfortable—a white-mink jump suit worn inside
out. Now you're rounding third base and heading for home, ready
to slide. Hold it; the lights are still on. But they wouldn't be
if you'd invested $29.95 in a Dim-Out, an insidious little device
made by K. B. Labs, 309 Mark Hannah, Ann Arbor, Michigan.
Plug a lamp into Dim-Our’s socket and in 20 minutes—darkness.
I£ you like to do it with the lights on, disregard this message.

BLUE-PLATE STOCKS
As negotiable securities, theyre not worth
the paper they're printed on. But as table decor,
or as a gift for a speculative friend, they're a
hot tip. R&S Systems, 253 Heathercrest Drive,
Chesterfield, Missouri, has reproduced stock
certificates from four longdefunct firms—
Boston Mexican Petroleum, Associated Gas and
Electric Company, Calumet and Arizona Mining
Company and Tuolumne Copper Mining Com-
pany—and turned them into а set of place mats
(86.65 postpaid). In today's market, it's not

every investment you can eat off of.

MAKING TRACKS
General Patton's daughter said, “Daddy always longed to have a set."
Dale Carnegie said, “My friends were popeyed when I showed
them.” What were they talking about? Petrified dinosaur
tracks that а company called Nash Dinosaurland in South Hadley,
Massachusetts, has been selling for years like prehistoric hot cakes.
Footprint prices are determined by prominence, length, rareness of
track and size of slab—with uses ranging from ashtrays, paper-
weights and birdbaths to meandering garden walks. Step on it!

DEPOSIT TEN CENTS FOR
THE NEXT ... GLUB
You're skindiving with a friend and all of

a sudden you see the Creature from the
Black Lagoon swimming toward you, What
do you do? You scream, dummy. But now
the person you're diving with can hear
your gurgled cry—thanks to а new, $200
contraption, the Divers Underwater Com
munications System, manufactured by
Metro-Tech Electronics in St. Louis. The
device utilizes the principle of skull con-
duction—and you don’t have to have an
awful lot in your skull to make it work.

LOVE FOR SALE
OK, guys, a Swiss chemist named Marcel
Perret has invented 2 new unisex body
lotion called This, supposedly derived
from “pheromones” (airborne sexual hor-
mones), and if it works, boy, are you
going to get lucky. Dr. Perret sells the
stuff by mail (from P. O. Box 2151, Grand
Central Station, New York; $5.65 for two
ounces) with one word of caution: Should
the body lotion fail, it’s got to be because
of your partner's deep-seated inhibitions
Sure enough, a fly in the ointment.

THERE'LL ALWAYS
BE AN INDIA

When it comes to esoteric fauna,
there's probably not a rarer bird than
the Anglophile India buff in full
war cry, pontificating how he would
have fought the battle of Maiwand
Well, if that's your cuppa. pukka
sahib, have we got a book for you. An
Assemblage of Indian Army Soldiers
& Uniforms, published by Perpetua
Press and available from Articles of
War Lid., 7101 N. Ashland, Chicago,
Illinois, for $14.50, takes you from
the gaudy splendor of the 21st Bengal
Native Infantry (1819) to the 1937
15th Lancers, showing what they wore
and telling how they fought. It’s
all first-rate stuff, best absorbed with
а tall, cool gin ‘n’ tonic.
Prevents malaria, you know

SONG-AND-DANCE ACT

Come Labor Day, instead of driving out to the park with a loaf of
bread and a jug of wine, we suggest you put a little culture into your
life and head east to the first American Song Festival, scheduled for
August 30 to September 2 at the Performing Arts Center in Saratoga
Springs, New York. Whar you'll see and hear are the works of 36 song-
writers—all competing for $128,000 in prize money—performed by such
worthy names as Loggins & Messina, the Pointer Sisters, Helen Reddy,
Ray Charles and Richie Havens. (For more info, contact the festival at
5900 Wilshire Blvd., Los Angeles, California.) It's sure to be a winner.

WAY TO GO!

If you're looking for an excuse to rid yourself of all that tiresome bread
and time you have on your hands, contact Olson's Travel in Chicago
at 1 North LaSalle Street for more information on their 35-day, $8895
junket around the world, with you and 83 other well-heeled types
traveling aboard your own private Pan Am 707. (The plane ordinarily
holds 160.) Of course, there's only one class—first; stopovers include
Africa, the Seychelles, India, Ceylon, Bangkok, Singapore, Hong Kong,
Bali, Australia and Tahiti; and the price covers just about everything
from shark-fin soup to coconuts. One catch: Trip is offered but once
a year—each January. And who's got money after Christmas?

161

PLAYBOY

162

“The Government will be happy 10 give you a grant to study birth
control, if it doesn’t have anything lo do with sex."

PRO FOOTBALL PREVIEW ||. prom page 159)

the talent to become the best quarter-
back in football, will undoubtedly rc-
з the starter and rookie Е х
has the raw ability to win Lucci's job, in
which case he will play side by side with
his Penn State roommate, ick.
But the morale problem has its roots in
the Detroit front office's cool and rigid
attitude toward its players—partly due to
the calamitous 1973 season—and McCaf
ferty can’t be expected to fix this kind of
plantation mentality. But he docs seem
to have creamed a better understanding
between players and coaches. Last year
the team didn't adapt to an all-new
coaching staff, its system and philosophy.
as readily as had been hoped. Now
the transition should be com-
If the offense

beaten the
Tn the bar

прэ since December 1967.
r of the 5:30 commuter
train headed toward Chicago's dlite
North Shore suburbs, publicity flacks,
stockbrokers and assorted Loop business
types lament the impotence of “our
nd solemnly agree that “ “Muggs
[general manager Halas] and Ed [vi
president McCaskey] have got to get a
new quarterback and a couple of good
linebackers." But year after year, Bears?
seasonticket holders, largely conce
trated among the North Side establish-
ment, fill the stadium. Bears owner
George S, Halas is, above all, а cost-con-
businessman, so when the public
liuc to buy an inferior product.
why should he spend
and development? The ba
ле is their bumbling
ation, which resembles
а merger of the Marx Brothers with the
Committee for the Re-clection of the
President. Also, Abe Gibron, an old-
fashioned blood-and-guts coach, makes
his pre-season workouts so rigorous that
players enter the season physically
4 emotionally spent. In. fact, toward
the end of last season, most of the players
just gave up and quit. "I hate to get up
in the morning,” linebacker Jimmy Gunn
told us. This year, the squad enter
mer drills depressed and disorga
The situa ly go downhill
from ther

bundle on research
с cause of the

WESTERN DIVISION
NATIONAL FOOTBALL CONFERENCE.

Los Angeles Rams .
Atlanta Falcons

San Francisco 4Sers
New Orleans Saints .

“Whe
you win your divisic
lead the entire N.F

your record is twelve and two,
championship and
-L. in total olfense,

total defense and. points scored, you have
to figure your team is reasonably strong,

declared Los Angeles general manager
Don Klosterman, thus establishing new
boundaries for administrative unde
statement. Indeed, the Rams enter 0
season with no
leaving little likelihood that апу rookies
will see much action. One of their most
important strengths is the personal pres-
ence of owner Carroll Rosenbloom, an
imusually enlightened man in а general
ly benighted profession. Choosing Chuck
Knox, for instance, as his head coach Last
season was a stroke of genius. Knox,
emotional rock, is a perfect counterp
to the mercurial Rosenbloom and

cool stability helps players keep their
confidence when things are going wrong.
So if the Rams can maintain their win-
ning spirit and sceming immunity to ser
jury (last year only onc of 22
starters missed an entire game because of
injury), they'll play the Cowboys to scc
who goes to the Super Bowl.

Norm Van Brocklin, his deeply creased
countenance reflecting years of vitrioli
emotion, confronted his squad after their
scason'send losses to two weaker teams
and took the blame for Atlanta's let-
down: he said he hadn't prepared them
properly. But Van Brocklin’s method of
preparation is one of Prussian intimida-
tion. On the field, he is a reasonable
facsimile of George Patton; off the field,
he demeans his players to the press, dic-
tates hair style and dress (“If you want to
wear bell.bottoms, join the Navy") and
spills acidic views opposing
players. (“They've got a Communist.
playing cornerback.” he once said of
the Cleveland Browns. referring to Ben
Davis, Angela's apolitical brother.) De-
c all this, the Falcons entered last
on needing only a quarterback who
could function effectively under the pres-
sure of Van Brocklin's coaching. They
found Bob Lec, a good-willed lover of
Jesus. How long he and Van Brocklin
Will be able to tolerate each other is de-

disce

ous i

about

sea

at wide receiver,
ice Spencer

ner Gerald Tinker,
and defensive back М
the only rookies who'll play), we doubt
that they can ever win a championship
» Van Brocklin. Teams motivated by
fer nearly always let down when the
heat is off. They may win the big gam
but they'll often lose to weaker teams.
The San Francisco 49ers will for the
first time have full use of four number-
one draft choices. Wide receiver Terry
Beasley and defensive back Mike
Holmes, the team’s selections the past

two yeas, have played minimally be-
cause of injuries. Combined with this
year’s two first-round choices (running
back Wilbur Jackson and defensive line
man Bill Sandifer), they should give the
49ers the most helpful injection of new
talent of any team in the league, and it
comes just in time. The 49ers took a pre-
cipitous nose dive in 73, largely due to а
series of major injuries to key players
and an unsettled quarterback situation.
Jackson and another rookie runner, Del
vin Willi: will account for the тип
ning and Steve Spurrier should be
dependable starter at quarterback. On
defense, 1 per should
continue h ration. With
all this good new talent on hand—
their luck changes—the 49ers could ex
perience an instant resurrection; but un.
less they can figure out some w:
Los Angeles, a trick they haven't turned
since their first game of the 1970 season
they won't get 10 the play-offs.

No асат or changed

Enthu-
m skyrocketed when coach J. D.

its.

Roberts was fired in late August and
new coach John North got a standing
ovation when he entered the room fo
his first squad meeting. North, a bluntly
honest man, completely rebuilt the team,
bringing in 14 new players, all of whom
are still on hand. The Saints suddenly
jelled in the third game (against Balti-
ore) and got better the rest of the sca-
son. The progress will continue this fall
if a tendency to fumble can be cured and
it 1 be reinforced.
Rookie Middleton
te starter; runner
Alvin Maxson could prove to be the sur-
prise in the Saints draft. He and vete
runner Jess Phillips will remove some of-
ve pressure from аанын Archie

linebacker
should be an immedi

74.

let us borrow from contempo-
rary political double talk to say that the
above predictions may become inopera-
tive if the player strike, scheduled to
begin as this issue makes its appear-
ance, reaches an impasse and lasts
beyond the beginning of the regular sea-
son. Fear not, tere will be а season
Tickets have been sold and television
contracts signed, and franch
n't about to let all that money escape
them, But if the strike drags on, look
for a wild assortment of unpredictable
teams, peopled with rookies and free
agents, playing high-class sand-lot foot-
ball. It may not be a thing of beauty,
and football purists will be horrified, but
m

entertaining season since raccoon coats
went out of style.

с owners

e rest of us just might enjoy the most

163

PLAYBOY

164

urge. "Don't let a little wat

12:45 vat Hull is definitely slowing
down. “What's the matter?” I

"Fm bushed,” he replies.
pe. АЙ that time in jail."
ou wrote you'd been d
walls,” E say.

"Thars just an expression for being
uptight.

1 am
ber
statement. But I
and urge him on.

1:25 р.м. Just short of 450 fect. Hull
has been immobile lor nutes, The
water stops and the policeman descends
and offers his help. Hull talks to him. 1
vy not to listen as he L
тему. It is disgusting to hy
тап grovel

There is a brief argument as to who
ep the explosive bolts. Hull has
agreed to turn them over to the police
s part of his surrender. 1 accept
is blatant violation of all the ethics of
s 1 know there is
The police
bandon the

I'm not in

mbi

ig the

shocked. No true monument
would ever make that d of
mother my disgust

monument. climbing.
a reserve supply in my pack
a asks me if D wish to
b. T do not even answer him. Hull
d the ranger disappear up the rope.
1:15 pt. Solo climbing. not my idea
ol pure enjoyment. A rope ladder has
been lowered from the top. 1 push it
aside and continue working up the m;
ble. All of the joy is gone from the diml

(continued from page 120)

it is pure agony pulling myself up bx
bolt to bolt. 1 think only of the dista
to the top and that cach bolt 1
that much closer to the end of my ordeal.

2:45 г-м. E must be ge
attitude of the crowd below is changing.
They are cheering me now. Such be-
havior is not uncommon on monument
climbs. Often, toward the end, they be-
з to feel just a bit of the incredible joy
¢ with the climber a
touch of his sense of accomplishment.

3:10 rt. Hull's voice comes down to
me from somewhere above. "Grab the
ladder, Stan. They won't let you finish."
1 know that the Park Service feels th
опе success spurs other climbers to тере
the ascent. How wrong they are. Just the
existence of a monument itself is enough
to demand that it be climbed

They will probably attempt to grab me
as I pass the tiny window at the top.
Th ing my
line of attack toward the edge ol the Гас
1s Неша uaverse
along the corner knife edge to the top.
To compound my dilficulües, the bolt
supply is running low, I
reaches as far apart as possible.
ous practice with two men climl
suicidal on a solo climb.

3:35 ra D reach the corner of the
monument with two bolis left and still
good six feet of vertical above me. I

of conquest. to sh

e is only one

ll have to make the d

spacing my
danger
ng. It is

"Daddy, I'm having such a good time . . . could I stay out

until eleven-thirty tonight? Please, Daddy

reach high to drive the first bolt. But my
tired hand slips and the bolt vanishes
below me. The panic of defeat rises with-
in me, I cannot make it to the top with
only one bolt. There is now only the
humiliation of the traverse back to the
rope ladder and surrender. But I cannot
accept this fate. 1 place my last bolt and
drive it home, set the nd work
p to my new hold. I rest and

my way

think. Frc Isw corner
L have an im the Po
tomac disappe: thwest into the
hills, the White House ju le be

me. But just as I turn my mind to the task
of the return route, I catch a flash of l
from the White House. The г n ol
sun on binoculars? Could he be watching
me? Everyone knows our President is not
quitter. I must wy to find
I search the marble fora
Га crack. There is one Haw d
1 have not detected before. 1 work at it
with my hammer. A piece flakes oll. re
vealing a crack that might hold a piton
1 reach up and jam the piton in. Miracu
lously, it stays, The hammer catches it
solidly on the first blow. The rest is

way up.

bove m

over the edge. A little
p of grim policemen waits for me by
the trap door in the roof. Still well out ol
their grasp. 1 unlimber the portable fag
ма with the tiny American flag above
the colors of the Monument Climbers of
North America. 1 stand, holding the май
aloft. The authorities may sec u
reng 1 still have my loyalty ıo my

ades

-w. The police are working the
у toward me. A helicopter. probably
from one of the news services. rushes
down upon me. There will be photo.
graphs. a litle publicity, another reach
pward in the long fight о legalize our
climbing,

1:03 р.м. The forces of law and order
are almost upon me. But the copter drops
down, a sling is lowered. I grab it as it
swings past and I am suddenly airborne

beneath The cable reels
climb into the copter, where three g
men of the press cong ›
e anxious t0 make а deal. In exchange
for exclusive rights to my story, 1 shal
be released rginia, wher is
waiting for n

I shake hands with them
all. They talk about television rights, a
exploits. I nod my
a documents. But I am

g of the ascent just completed
and our long-overdue recognition in the
press, As the copter swings around, Iramed

all pointing the way to
1 know in my heart will be my next
ascent, the imposing d
unconquered С

IT CAME TO PASS (continued from page 91)

in marble
metals.
с woods.
adequate, not even

to find her form in his work
(too cold). in clay (too crude).
(too stern) and in
But nothing wa
abaster.
He had led the life: balling on the Left
Bank in the old days, the
grass and а jug of whatever wi
thous, singing, etc., in the wilderness of
Cambridge and the Back Bay. He'd seen
it all and been through two wives and
three recalcitrant kids in the course of
it. He was ready for something different;
for this young, fragile girl-woman with
whom everyone he knew had fallen in
love. And she had only loved him back.
He would marry her in the spring among
flowers. And until then, he almost relished
the waiting. She would be untouched
Marty's background was sophisticated
but rarefied: father head of the classics
ment, mother a clinical psycholo-
European schools. She was known
among the Cambridge set for the way she
sked questions at poetry readings, screen-
gs and showings—as if she really were
reluctant to say anything, and suspected
she ought not, but she really had to know
or she'd sleep unsoundly. You would do
anything to spare her such «прі
nes. Aud the questions she asked w
lways so much sharpe
you had thought of. It was crush
fell in dove with her despite you
She'd got the best of everything.
And then she got pregnant.
Normally none of us would have
thought anything of it. It was either а
ng or there were ways now
i h Marty, espe
irrevocably

cially when everything w
done and finished. it was like the water
running out of our beds.

Joe told me about the whole scene a
few days after it was over. [ suppose I
was опе of the first to know. We'd had
lunch late in an underground eatery and
just stayed here talking. He was crying
into his Hu Kwa. 1 wanted a drink, but 1
listened to him force the words out be
tween his teeth

“What could I

to her, Peter? She
couldu't have told me at a worse time. I
wasn't finding the form. АШ 1 wanted to
do was look at her, Peter, you know how
she is. You look at her and anythi
seems possible. Is possibl
And she started to talk and then went
very quiet and Û didn't want to look at
her, because D knew she was cry

1 didn’t know how it would affect

"But you did look.”

71 did. Aud you can guess—no, m:
you can't. Secing her like that made me
feet helpless but like there was the po-
tential there for me to be all-powerful.
You know? No. I could be father, lover,
child to her, if only. . Te swung his

ne.

back and forth and swirled the

leaves around in the bottom of his cup.

It would have excited me.
“Excited you?" Joe just looked at me

and sipped at his tex. And in my mind 1

damned myself for a fool and supposed I

had put an end to his story. But then he

head

listen and take it all in. That was all he
тей or needed.

He asked her what was the maner, And
he put his arms around her. She looked
up at him.

I've been to a gynecologist.” she said.
Yes." He wasn't surprised. He'd told
her to. She'd been feeling sick: her peri-
ods had been irregular. "What did he
say?

She couldn't speak.

Joc tried to speak the worst to save her
doing it. "Is there some reason we won't
be able to һауе...?

She pushed her head against his shoul-
der and, completely quietly, it was strange
how quietly she cried. Then, "I'm preg-
1," she said.

Joc let go of those last words in a rush.
I sat forward and listened aggressively.
ly whole body went cold. Peter, I
didn't know what to do. I got my first
wife knocked up and that was no scandal
then, God knows how many years а
But. But, Peter, 1 never. then he
shut up suddenly. He kept that thought
to himself. And then he began again
abruptly. He had asked her, “Who?

"No—nobody," she said.

“Marty, please. Please. I can learn to
live with anything. I—but, Marty, I have
to know who. W

She tried to clutch
on him again, but he held her back so
he could look into her eyes. "Just tell
me," he said. "I can accept the truth.

n telling you the truth."

He blew up. "Come on! You don't
catch clap from the can and you sure
shit don't get pregnant from the stor
Now, who the hell made that little thing
growing inside you?

Joc belted down the last of his tea as if
were 90 proof and stared at me as if
there were something I could do. He put

“The Cabinet? I thought homosexuals were
only in the closet!”

165

PLAYBOY

166

his hands over his eyes and shivered for a
moment. Then he laughed. “Marty said,
‘Tm telling you the truth." med
mad. I don't just mean angr

a sudden, she looked trapped, you know?
Nobody, she said. "Nobody. Nobody! No-
body! I started to shake her, but I didu't
h y strength, I let go of her. 1 sat
down. It was obvious I couldn't say any-
thing. Hell, I felt sick. I couldn't say
anything."

Joe's fingers were white from clutching
his cup. He couldn't look at me anymore.
He fell silent. He couldn't talk to me
more. He managed to cough out, “I
wonder who it was. I really thought, .. -

I tried to change the subject. 1 looked
desperately among the batik hangings and
wall cracks for something to give me an
strology chart on the
“Boy, Kohoutek really has
Joe just looked up at me.

face seemed too old ever to hav

thought about marrying someone like
Marty. Marrying? Why was it she seemed
like a girl you would have ro marry? But
I tried to continue with th
llooked
just now.

astronom:

We went outside to see. Both of us
lacked much е m. We couldn't
find it, That topic died.

Joe looked ancient and exhausted. in
the evening light. He must have seen this
reflected on my face, “I'm sorry, Peter.
1 haven't slept since this started. I haven't
even tried.
ou should, Joc. gs would be
clearer.” We stood there for a few sec-
onds. "Well," 1 said, “I've got to be oll.
But... but, Joe, what's going to |

"E don't know. I still love hi
think. . =.”

“L know she still loves you.”

"Maybe well still ре...”

“You should.”

"Yes. T thi
gether first.”

In sounded like the right thing to do.
We were about to walk off in diflerent d
rections. I had to ask, “WI bout...

“We went to the clinic together yester-
y. They were very nice, of course. I
mean, thank God . It was all very
clean and modern,’

husia

we may try living to-

BARD

(continued from page 86)
broke into some factory office for blank
checks and spent one Friday cashing hot
checks: And all of a sudden they were
rich. C8 got the Cadillac and down рау.
menis on just about anything else he
wanted. But he was smart enough to stop

cashing in after he'd goucn what he
wanted. The others went right on with
the machine until the

CB was a large bo:

oped an impressive gridwork of muscles
that covered his body like a suit of
he was a kid back їп
. Hed quit school in the
third grade to load those shrimp boats
that chug y long, run by
four- and uh mers who
1 back, hawk up a
of sputum and send it wob-
ng out over the oily salt water, and
whose sole advice to the youth there-
abouts Get thet educati
They caiwt take thet away from ya
ad rocked way back on
barely an adolescent but big

ting down at the bar, where he w
supposed to go because he was unde
age—and delivered his own projectile
ross the trajectory of the old men
allowing as how he'd probly dew aw
t edge-yew-kayshun.
ht in L.A., all that muscle
zo gone to a thick cushioning
of jellylike tissue infested by minute
pockets of fat. He hawked grossly fro
deep in his smoke-blackened lu
spat a good 20 feet across the
submitting in the same br
break the fag's kn.
fuckin’ money
Bat a little braimwork by Wol
and Spook refined this. They simply
backed the trailer up to the loading dock
nd relieved the club of every unopened
half-gallon boule of booze in stock.
Dawn found C8 and Cherokee s
ing in the p:
Zing neon sign, so drunk they didn't
notice or else just plain didn't care t
they were soaking wet. Each cradled
empty half. vas bottle in his
arms and gis scak waves of
usted hysteri. ing in that way
only the oldest of fr » understand
in such a stupor. The never-ending need
was cach day to get a little higher, to go
just one step further than the day before
in whatever direction and in every мау

“I say w
d take the

a things were dictated by being
on tour, by the traveling of a b:
h word bande means “bond,
Related to bandit, from the
n verb. But put any group of people

road and see what happens. At
home people get together and work
hard at seuling: they drive out the
mobile, vagrant spirits. Possibilities are

shrunk purposely in order that certain
things may be accomplished, in order
that certain. prohibitions be maintained,
When they venture away from home,
they are subject to the whims of loose

and ancient spirits that inhabit those
roads on which they travel. The bonds
and restraints are left behind. There are
360 degrees on the compass, They can be
divided into an infinite number of possi
ble directions. The nomadic band is open
10 these infinite possibilities
hearty, à

Add to this a mal back-
round, the prime sense of a man who
never made it past third grade, whose
whole life is founded on the most sensu:
ous profession, the making of sound,
sound meant to move somebody m
who has no question in his mind, who is
certain of himself, who has never asked
what he would die for
the Sci
to di
w

who went into
ice not because he was willi

for his country but because he
ted to kill for his country. Give this
man a gun and let him have no fear, not
of other men nor of animals, not of ac-
cidental death or bodily harm or mental
disintegration, not of failing manhood,
nor of education or law or the beliefs of
others. Show him pain. Then give him
pleasure so that he knows both sides of
the coin. as he stands and
breathes, he will go after pleasure with
purpose and determination and attain
it by whatever means he deems ncc
essary, notwithstanding hellfire or the
hand of God

A man дое have to be evil to do
what the band did.

And as sui

THE LONE RANGER EAT
AND GET GAS WAX MUSEUM

These nights repeated themselves in
flickering sequence, blurring and run-
And through brute оке,

with desperate urgency, there was always

ning together

some lastminute way of peaking out
above the previous days record. All-
ht acid marathons flash by discon-
nected, mere images, poorly remembered
by all. Somew 1 offers herself
bodily to the band as a receptacle out of
which to cat ice cream, olf of which to
bounce their wildest lantasies.

At some point, holes broke through

ndling clouds and the

the canopy of bi

expectations held in L.A. faded. The
rain, having devastated the area, finally
relented and the band moved north

under it, instinctively migrating with
bad news, turning cast at Interstate. 80
for the cross-continent drive home.
Somewhere along the line, Squinsh
had picked up a tr ashed-out Deuce-and.
aQuarter only to learn that it used
every With
his wank touching the road because it
was full of two-gallon oilcans, he hop
skipped and limped across America.
Cherokee slept almost. nonstop, getting
up only once midway to urinate, and

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167

PLAYBOY

168

then, without a word to anyone, resum-
slumped in the front said

adillac next to CE, who ate "Lay off him, mar
illigram Biphetamine capsules — at the scener
k Tres Equis Cerv

at wads of phlegm, which ey

ing his positio

hawked up gr

was rolling in the back seat and talked
about where they'd be
90 miles
g mostly by the instruments,
h once he looked at the road long
h то avoid plowing into the
uspecting Northwestern
seed's new Chevrolet with thi
се sticker stil
left passenger window.

One sunset on the road found them.
where 1-80 discontinued, poised on the
ridge belore
the late rays of |

proudly pasted то the

dover,
t burned up under the “What is bullsh

«clouds and reflected flatly, empl
nfin:
low, liquid salt fields divided by roads the pe
imo perfect. geomet
tense pastel
buting on umg
and wedged t¢

ether by 40

ions as the land gave up its

' Wolfman had dropped
Ш cactus thingies that seemed to ate a sunset?

frustrate h

Time

"А попури
nts occur im ар

ng highway w
the numbers F

cnt to the futu

or where they
hour while he

matter, m
time. Pl
The timbrel, а vari
every night onstage.
tilt,

Cherokee s;

Utah, where Without all th

ically.

ote plant,” Fl

cal patches of

ine isosceles triangles of water so satur
ите marine тумай

ull shivered like rich g

ucki

Let's get gc
“You go," Dea

al efeu on his system. “Yeah, goddamn

“On the other hand, I don't want to
s childish curiosity and run the risk of

giving him some sort of complex.”

Flash said. “Look
or sometli

‘through the
Spook said,

1, succession from the pa

ing from some faroll bit of absorbed
knowledge. “In other words, I can tell
you exactly what Ti
things

of which we use
Till, tiller, Tillich,
lth, timbale—"
“Somebody shut that fucker up."
"Can't we just look at the
goddamn beauty of this fuck
bullshit”

е expanse of shal. “Bullshit is a small green button from

“Look at them lakes out th.
des. Green trapezoids pointed to one of the trunca
ted with salt that it was

ter, can't you even sit still and appreci-

cabrón putrid sodom s
hole." Wolfman said.

“Why, you little
moved toward him.

“Lay off, Mineral,” C8 said, "he's too

igh t0 know what he's sayin
hey picked up 1-80 again and pushed
on under cover of full dark, stark images
blasting out of nowhere
hind them. At one point. €
he could drive for 60 seconds with his
eyes dosed but. started drifting and ran
station wagon through a guardrail
olf the road. Flash and Spook
watch the car shrinking behind them in
jowstorm of sparks as it slid olf the
shoulder and rolled onto its roof down
the embankme
eens God." Spook hollered, grab-
ng the seat behind C8. "You ran that
guy off the road!”

“Аһ сай stop now." C8 put his teeth
together and leaned
the accelerator.

‘Poor fucker
Flash said, still pee
dow w sec if the gasoline was g
hit the engine block for a gr

"You gotta go buck" Spook seemed
upset.

“Yew want us all tgo to
turned all the way
Spook, who looked
blue in the eeri
- The hog began to creep oll the
road again and C8 pulled it back. grind-
vile substance out of his throat

it onto the road. “Fuck
ahin’ for him.”
was only in a dream. In
n pulled out a
laid with mother

creep pygmy

The Mineral

g out the rea

“Big 30 left Savannah

Run and did not stop

You oughta saw that colored fireman
when he got them boilers hot

you сап

reach over'n th'corner, mama, and
hand me my traveling shoes. .

"Whozat:
finished.

Squinch asked when he'd

* Wolfman said, “singin” Blind
McTell’s Statesboro Blues and
"the livin’ shit оша this giet
"t so high anymore. Just fe

“You know anything by The Uranium
T-Shirt? Or The Pink Sphincter?

“L know how to play a demented fifth
chord." Wolfman strummed the open
strings, producing an awful sound.

“Go to sleep,” ihe Mineral said.

“IL 1 go to sleep,” Squinch snarled,
“you'll never wake up. Goddamn mother-
fuckin’ pigshi

Wolfman did

car's got diarzhe;

perfect i
ng Bob Dylan
himself singing Love Is Just a Four
Letter Word.

“Let's take the andantino from C again .. . this time

“I always knew that fuckin’ Spook
wasn't your brother, you goddamn Mexi-
am bandit faggot.” Squinch said. “Any
ol that Goors left back there?”
“Tok a leak in one of the empty
s. if you'd 1 ad
Wol HN rv

E something nice

hot" an up а twoocdave

chromatic.
“TI ake it

" Squinch shouted,
Wolfman popped the top off a warm
can and handed it to him. Squinch
swilled it ly
“Tastes like
today,” Squindh said.
Only a few
Deuce-and-a-Qi

vou had some coffee

hours later, Squinchis
gave up the
cover—
nd Бер; s oil onto the road
every 30 the hoi began
stretching into one solid expanse of
boredom and ragged nerves. The

lac radio produced a steady str

host

ol its

gurgling Methedrine idiocy. Kamikaze
butterflies m: ight-yellow explo-
a the windshield at regular inter-

"ithout the cat!"

vals. Alternating and continual doses of

areue smoke, cold black collec,
uts,
1. speed and more cigarettes
slormed the feeling inside the
mouths into something almost as loath-
some as that inside their brains. And the
roar of the highway wind was enous
loosen the fillings in their teeth.

rhythms of passing towns
every 20 minutes while Sq
more oil into the car were d
And at some isolated glassed
num servicestation café along the w
| who appeared to be a
aland-wax sti
the bi
at at his counter
gentle bari
the distance. He
them boys, addressing them only as а
group. asking if they were old enough to
remember the cowboy shows on the
radio. As they were paying the check, the
was-faced man shook cach hand. with a

cold grip. told the boys he used to be the
Lone Ranger on the radio and then
howed them an eight-by-ten of himself
in his Lone Ranger clothes. The phot
graph was dominated by a snowflake
eks that made the Lone
Ranger look as if he were standing i
blizzard that didn't even bother him, e
cept for his eyes. which were squint
behind the mask.
By the second—or w
time the sun

reticulum of c

the thirdi—
су had
smoked so many Alvin Surprises (а mix-
ture of Moroccan weed and Lebanese
hashish) and taken so many
that

ful that it
acd

wd get out,
to roll around
dogs. kicking the
to the running sun-
bout troopers who
ind wonder what they

New Mexico dust
light. not caring
might come by
kept in their sui
Deuce-and-a-Quarter

169

PLAYBOY

170

by what authority СВ kept beneath his
front seat a sawedoff. l2gauge, five-
shot pump and why it was loaded with
double-naught shot. No onc knew for
sure what they were doing in the dirt
ad Deacon. who stole the shotgun

in the first place. wasn’t sure why he
been

it. It hadn't even
hc had looked

loaded
old fri s in
who had a gun collection. They |
ten all fucked up on downers
ed shooting up and down ihe canyon
with a Thompson. When they had got-
ten too loose to hit anything with а mi-
chine gun, they retired to his friend's
porch with (he 12gauge and spent ihe
evening shooting raccoons, which, when
hit with that size shot. disappeared Irom
the face of the earth without a trace.

And. of course. when Deacon returned
to tell the band about his adventure. no
one believed him. They all lied so
much and so well that half of the thir
that really happened were rejected. as
just more bullshit. But that's the way it
was in those days: Some things just

weren't true, €

n if they did happen.
Somehow ag. even
when they returned home, such as it w
they never quite got off the road in the
essential way one must if one is going to
live within the bounds of accepted hu-
man behavior, Alter you are on the road
long enough. you begin to take the spirits
home with you. If you go iuto the wilder-
ness for long enough, vou will become
wild. If you start out wild, you will go
home and perhaps never realize you are
home—or home will be everywhere . . .
wd therefore nowhere. All possibilities
will remain within your grasp. You
will not obey laws, moral codes or
anything else. because you will not even
know they exist

There

another sense about mu:

this music ic spiritu
fied emotion. It's the same sense that
comes to the operator of a less can-
non on the battlefield. Some people call
it shell shock. After а few years of
playing rock, things begin to loosen, the
brain pan begins to hold a dry standing
wave, the motor mounts become rigid

electr

“And you are sexually impulsive.”

and liable to fracture with the slightest
jar, nerve endings develop calluses. Just
as dope deteriorates the body compo-
nents, constant sound and’emotion waste
the soul. A deep, low-grade infection of
the spirit sets in, an infection you can
sense in its victim, just as you сап sense
something out of the ordinary in some
one who has terminal cancer.

THE CHOCOLATE BAYOU FOUR
ON А MIDGET INCIDENT

One of the first things they did after
getting home and sleeping oll the snap
pers. the weed and the trip was to take
another пір down to Alvin and load up
the boat with weed and snappers for a

run up Chocolate Bayou to where the
wks would be guarding
house they kept was

nt white h:

their young. Th
outside Alvin in one of the small wilder-
nesses southeast of Houston. Chocolate
Bayou is actually feeds into
the Gulf of Mexico by way of Lost Bay
and West Bay along the western side of
Galveston, The house seu i
pout 20 miles, where few il any pl
crafts would venture because of a twist-
and erratic channel and submerged
stumps that would gut a boat that drew
much more than a foot.

The first lew attempts to get ev
to the little boat were more ridi
thin dangerous. with C8 insisting that
he be the pilot, laughing his ass off. gen-
ing a mighty bolus of mucus from his
giant lungs, standing up to his full 64”
to fire it from the boat and tipping
headlong into the deep-brown water no
fewer than three times belore Wollman,
Flash and Spook, pulling him from the
bayou, decided to hold the boar's battery

ous

til he eed. to sit down and

be sill But the black ones were gettin
best of him. Deacon, Squinch, Flash
Spook aud Wollm: ice again set-
ued next io him in the boat designed to
hold two or three people with reason-
able safety, and CS, with the aid of an
eversosmall droplet of hash oil, began
spuuering with his characterist
like canvas being vorn. As the bout, ques-
tionably afloat, began pulli
the iule dock, his stilled laughter built
up so mudh pressure inside his chesi tha
he started rocking back and forth in an
attempt to control it, Before they were
20 fect downrange, the boat exceeded its
two-inch clearance, filled with v
went down
At that point Spook dedared that, a
trumpet player, it was no good for him
to swallow so much i
didn’t get into the house and dry h
out properly with tequila and Lo
he might never play а high Eki again.
Deacon followed and spent the rest of
the dı ching soap operas while
Spook read. him progressively longer pas
sages from Roethkes Words for the

п were o

sound,

away Irom

wate

e Star,

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‘A kitten can bite with his feet,’
Spook intoned. Deacon began giggling.
“There was a mooly man who had a rub-
ber hat and funnier than that—he kept
it in a can, " Spook went on and Deacoi
had to make him stop. “'A real hurt is
soft!"

But as they got more and more stoned,
it turned into a dialog.

“How did you fecl about

“Well, I started at the thigh, you
know, and worked my

came upon a black, da

And as I fondled it, it became damp-
er. Anyway, I ran thirteen fingers up
їһеге—зес, I'm odd, I got seven on one
and and six on the other, see?—and.
ke, I put thirteen fingers, both hands,
sts, elbows and triceps, which 1 wa
fiexing at the time, which means they
were expanded 10 my full eighteen inch-
cs from my bar-bell work. Anyway, I
had the whole thing up there and like
I was playin’ with her heart. Now, as 1
massaged her heart, her cries became
more and more frantic, tuming into
moans. And as I squeezed those ventri
cles it was as if my spirit was torn from
the very depths of my soul and I came—
and she died, and now we're even. Djew
ever try dancin’ with a corpse?”

Meanwhile, with the boat on top of
the water, the four crew members glided
er with no sound, except the suck-
nd the dry hiss of the
e pipe passing from mouth
The river was flanked by
dense forest. which intermeshed 30 feet
above the water, forming a dark-green
tunnel in which the boat moved along
the still surface of the bayou, passing be-
th misshapen patches of sunlight that
flashed through the heavy canopy of
leaves. Along the bank some mongrel
dog was running, sharp shadows merging

Surpr
to mouth

with the fuzzy edges of his movement
through the silver
ish moss hi

sen tatters of. Sp:
nging and dropping in great
quantities from the coniferous frieze 10
the alluvium along the bayou. As the
overloaded boat moved into deeper si
lence, CB's need to laugh subsided while
he stared into the massive heavy green,
with the pines pointing upward to more
and more green and the river spreading
its legs before him, the light coming
down only in splotches, though the
whole forest held the glow of day, daz-
zling and rich among the infinite shades
of green.

In the m silence
boat, a leaf came crash
the top of a dead tree, heay
the dry branches, turning and roaring,
louder and louder as it neared the
ground. A yellow jacket that seemed to
C8 the size of a hummingbird dove, star-
tling the boatload of people, and then

of the sipping
down trom
z through

“They were made for each other. He's a leading proctologist
and she's a pain in the ass."

droned off among the branches; but
when a stoncwhite hawk, its wings span-
ning more than four fect, came past, rid-
ing а thermal above the bayou, glancing
toward the canopy, seeking a way out of
the endless tunnel of green, a hushed rev
erence that bordered on fear settled over
the four dangerously stoned passengers,
í they were gliding into prehistory.

‘The pipe passed yet again and some-
one said, This's fuc
silently pointed to the tracks of doven
hooves in the mud along the bank. ‘They
watched as the impressions moved across
their field of vision. the same expres-
sions on their faces that one sees when
people are looking into an open cofin.

But it was bigger than their humble
hashish delirium could estimate. Around
the next curve, upwind from the boat, a
full-grown reddish-brown bull lay in the
shade the cool river's edge. He
seemed perhaps ten times bigger than
the men and boat put together and hi
bearing that of a fairy-tale monster
guarding a high-priced item. Flash at the
tiller whispered, We can't go past that
thing, man, he'll fuckin’ cat us!

Wolf managed tọ organize his
thoughts enough to draw out of the fog
а fact: Bulls don't eat meat, small com
fort as they drifted almost even with the
ad passed the point of no re-
And even as the thick, blue hashish
smoke trailed along behind them, no
опе figured out that the bull hadn't
made his move because he couldn't smell
them. As they negotiated the next curve,

nca

however, the wind caught both them
and their smoke and delivered the bou-
quet right up under the monster's nose.
One hardly imagines a beast. of such
mass being lithe or lightning quick, but
this one was up and into the wate
single motion and the wave was too
much for the litle boat, which once
again dumped its contents into Choco-
late Bayou.
Not quite

ina

onto the bank and
resumed his questionable guard. Not
wanting to replay the scene just yer, the
contents of the boat returned on foot to
the house, troubling themselves only to
recover from the water the hashish, bob-
bing along im its tinfoil wrapper, and
Squinch, who was thrashing and plead-
ing with them not to let him drown.
When they reached the house, Deacon
was passed out with his face in the car
pet and the television blasting.
Spook was hollering at him to wake up
while trying to revive the corpse of an
unexpected guest who had dropped over
after accidentally injecting too much

was

tween his thumb and
was Kenny, one of those people you al-

c so wonderfully crazy, so
unpredictable—into everything. Kenny
would do things like buy a night club
with money hed made dealing dope,
then stay high for six months, only to
wake up with a failed business and a lot
of debts. Then he'd bounce back with

171

PLAYBOY

172 secret

another mad scheme and be off арай
He might call in the middle of the night
from Costa Rica with an elaborate plan
to bring back a ton of solid-rock cocaine
in the 43-oot sloop he'd just bought
("No, man, I сапт sail, but somebody
we know must be able to . . .”). Then
he'd show up working in a record store
with no more explanation of what had
happened to the coke deal than, “Well,
some days chicken, some days chickei

shit.” But eventually the drugs got the
best of him. Sometimes he couldn't even
remember how many bags he was sup-
posed to shoot. And maybe that's wi
happened in Alvin that afternoon.

wasn't a cautious man.

Some people resorted to rather ex
treme measures in an attempt to regain
that part of themselves that was eroded
by time, travel, sound. Others, rather
than regain it, tried to escape the con-
tainer once everything had gone. Whei
your own spirit joined the oncs on the
highways, you either had to go looking for
it or alter the container it had lived in.

Another way to meet the problem
head on was to set about denying that it
existed, to go full steam ahead with so
much energy and fury that you began to
се yourself that you were still all
с—айег all, jus a part of you
couldn't possibly raise that much hell,
could it?

MIGITTY MOUSE LEGENDS AND
THE ALMOST PERFECT CRIME

Within a couple of weeks, the excite-
ment of being back wore off and mem-
bers of the band were looking for places
to gig and ways to make money. A local
trombone player named Mouse (for the
same reason anyone is named after that
rodent) got C8, Cherokee and Deacon
volved in trying to supplement their
come by taking the safe from a dub
where Mouse worked.

Mouse was a skinny genius with
wispy beard and blue-tinted sunglasses.
He had a habit of quoting old sayings in
Russian, because when he went into the
Service and scored too high on the
wrong exam, the authorities put him in
a totalimmersion Russian course. At
first he was pleased that he wouldn't end
up as another bull'seye for some V.C.
sniper. Then he learned they were going
to send him to the approximate geo-
graphical center of nowhere, in which
place it was 30 below zero. There they
were going to make him monitor Rus-
sian radio stations all by himself for at
least three years; and unconfirmed ru-
mors had it that the Russians occasion-
ally came along and randomly dropped
loads of explosives on these American
radio shacks. When Mouse refused to
ty oath, however, they sent
stead to the approximate geo-
graphical center of North Da

structions to guard with his life a very
installation. For two years, with a

sign the loya

15 on his hip. rbine in his arms,
Mouse waited for an opportunity to take
a spy on a guided tour of the entire com-
plex. but his only visitors wcre jack rab-
bits and wildcat and so his lifelong
ambition to perform a major subversive
act remained a dream.

But he went on as someone who didn't

fear anything—much. For that matter,
he hadn't really changed since an inci
dent when he was 17. While ferociously
DWI, Mouse stopped by the local
Man, who began asking perfectly ordi-
nary questions that struck. Mouse as ter-
ribly impertinent. When Mouse began
ng him the bad mouth—not just or-
y sus but the "suck dirty swamp
water through a pygmy blowgun" type
of talk—the patrolman felt obliged to
р his sidearm holster in case the
boy might have to be subdued. Before
the Man even looked up from what he
was doing, Mouse had a knife to his
throat, took his gun and badge and car
nd was gone. For the next few hours,
Mouse drove around, listening to head-
quarters tell him where they thought he
was so he could go in the other directio!
By the time he sobered up enough to
lize what would happen when the
car ran ош of gas, һе was running
through his head the list of charges: ob-
structing an officer, completing a cycle,
malice aforethought with intent to off a
pig. stcalment of a short, peculiarity and
cruising while wasted... . They could
have had him in the joint for half his

atural life if he hadn't gone straight to
his father—who, by negotiating the
sheer and slippery dilis of bureaucracy

with outright bribery, got Mouse sent to
private mental institution, where he
cowbarred open a cabinet full of dan-
gerous experi psychedelies and
зау ming stoned for the next two
months, during which time he made
friends with lobotomized female pa-
tient who could neither talk nor walk
nor understand, but could smile and, in
a rather inhibited fashion, copulate.

Even years after he was discharged,
view of the world was so distort:
ed that it seemed sensible to rip off the

the club was locked for the night. With
the other walkie-talkie, they went into the
office, where they discovered a safe as
wide and tall as C8 and so heavy they
could barely tip it from corner to corne

But they weren't about to go a
empty-handed, so they began rocking it
toward the back door, comentedly igno-
rant of the silent alarm under the cir-

peting and the dead batteries in the
walkietalkie, which was why Mouse
couldn't warn them when the police

came and began trying to jimmy open
the back door. There they were. these
seven-foottall, heavily armed blue-eyed

Houston policemen on one side of the
door, and Deacon with a stolen shotgu
guarding СВ and Cherokee on the other
side. Mouse in the meantime had fear-
lesly sequestered himself in a trash bar-
rel, where he stayed thro

rain all night and half the next day. The
police became so engrossed in uying to
the back door that they didn't
the would-be burglars finall
snapped and left with mudi sound and
fury through the front.

PROFESSIONAL RISK AND
DOUBLE HAPPINESS MISTAKE.

Even though C8, Cherokee and Dea-
con were far too bent to be very fright-
ened by this close call. they did get the
notion that certain detectives they knew
might suspect them of trying such a
caper. And Deacon was getting nervous
about holding the 40 pounds of turkey
he'd bought and the riot gun hed
ripped off from a squad car one drunken
night outside thar same night club. Since
Wolfman and Flash were more or less
clean at the time, Deacon asked them to
get rid of the мш.

Wolfman something of a square
peg, consciously turned on the lathe of
homegrown rebellion until he was
round as the rest. He hadn't started
playing tenor until he was 13. Before
that he'd. spent all his time in scholarly
pursuits, reading the complete works of
Dostoievsky before he was in the eighth

grade, mastering differential calculus
and the basics of non-Euclidean geome-
try before he reached high school. But

a that math schol

when they gave h
ship to Rice University. something
over him. In one hand was a saxophone,
in the other a slide rule . . . and that
old slide rule just didn't have any soul.
And old Wolfman was one soulful cat,
full of information and wish ng he could.
just cash it in for that much more soul, a
commodity fairly hard to come by in
those times
Wolfman sat in

the front seat of
ass TR 4 with a 40-pound plastic
bag of weed and а 12-gauge pump
stamped PROPERTY OF THE HOUSTON
POLICE DEPARTMENT while Flash drove
into the woods along Chocolate Bayou
and Wolfman mumbled, God, don’t
break no traffic laws, Lord, don't run no
stop signs... .

After burying the whole sinful mess
under a few [ect of loose dirt, they were
so relieved to be dean again that they
decided to ride up the river but discov
cred the little Sears motor wasn't working
quite as well as it did before it was left
n Chocolate Bayou overnight. There
was only one thing to do; they had to
head back downriver to the big docks
and pick up a metal-Hlake-blue. Johnson
outboard motor from one of the little
s that had been carelessly left out.

Massive doses of marijuan:
tended periods of

over ex-

ime seem to breed а

"Well, Hofstetter’s of California will have to wait.
Right now I'm balling Flumdale's of Florida."

173

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176

peculiar mixture of courage and terror.
Once they had the motor in their posses-
sion, the bite of innocence lost produced
ich anxiety in them that Wolfman and
Flash found it necesary to wrap the
motor in plastic and bury it half a mile
from the turkey and the riot gun.

On their way back to Houston, the po-
lice disassembled the TR 4, explaining
t some burglaries had been reported
in the area. When the officers discovered
nothing of interest, they said, Mighty
Fine, Boys, as all Texas policemen do
when everything appears Mighty Fine,
and left the two pale hornmen standing
the road, staring after the prowl car as
it disappeared down the road.

Of all the days events, this last pro-
duced in them by far the greatest need
for a nice cool drink and a couple of
reds, if not a Tuinal or a yellow jacket
and maybe a couple of joints and a
green-and-white one to smooth it off at
the top, or even part of a black one or a
speckled bird could do the trick, though
after discussing it, they decided that
Ritalin might be just the thing to hit the
spot, no matter whether they could score
the downers or not. but first things first,
which meant going to the Double Hap-
piness Ballroom, where they could not
only start out with a few Black Jacks and
er but could sit in with Cherokee.

The set was ending with a glitzy break
tune over which the leader signed off,
speaking radioese and spicing it up for
the audience: "We've gotta break here
for fifteen but we'll be right back on the
scene remember Wednesday night is
Free Beer Night all you can drink for
nothin’ two-fity cover at the door and
we'll be here till wo Thursday too when
we've got the Big Tits Contest don't
bother bringin’ your falsies ‘cause you
gotta stand tall and show it all so stay
right where you're at we'll be back at bac
in a flash and speakin' of flashes how
about those waitresses Folks they work
only for tips so dig down there in your
hip pocket and give ‘em somethin’ reecel
nice they'll love you for it but not on the
p 3 cool tool

your meat loal. .

Wolfman and Flash sat unpad
their saxophones with Virgil, the club.
owner, and his wife, who was ci
months’ pregnant, while the leader ram
bled on, getting dirty looks from the
musicians, who wanted to get out of the
hot lights and have a drink. Virgil was
buying the drinks to celebrate the 230th
consecutive night of his wife's ргери
He patted her belly gı
a tankard of Lone g through
the smoke, a stout, contented man.

Wolf and Flash were fec a big
rush from some kind of strange new
drug Cherokee had laid on them. some-
thing called MDA. As they mounted the
stage, they were beginning to break into
а cold sweat and shake all over, not

quite certain if they were getting high or
g that last rich sensation before
the void. They broke into 7 Can't Turn
You Loose with a horn part that could
be felt through the concrete parking lot
all with
striking blue cyes and looking like re-
centy graduated high school lineback-
ers, came in to break up a fight in a far
corner between two acned customers,
Any fight was the sig ad to
play its fastest numbers at full. volume
so the fighters didn't even hear when
one of the officers drew his revolver
fired a warning shot through the
acoustically designed ceiling for which
Virgil had paid four months’ wages. The
ausic roared on even as Virgil charged
up in front of the policemen with his
Smith & Wesson .38 Lemon Squecz
awn high, shouting for them to get
i ‚ One of the
young officers took. him for just another
brawler and shot him in the leg. That
was the kid's mistake.
sil looked down at his leg in shock,
astounded that anyone would do that to
Then he leveled his Safey at the
v and emptied it into his chest
shots slammed large pieces of the police-
man’s back against the far wall, and
people scattered as the boy was thrown
back, overturning tables. As he slid to a
stop xture of cocktails, beer and his
own fluids, the three remaining police-
men turned on Virgil and began firing.
When the first shot blew part of his
joulder away, Virgil was spun around

with such force that his glasses flew
across the room. Three more slugs
ciught him in the back and sent him

he
his wife

skidding onto his face, whe
while they fired on him unt
threw her body over his.

During all this, Cherokee was pre-
pared 10 go on singing at top volume, a
if this were just another one of the fights
they were instructed by Virgil to drown
out—and they had managed to cover the
sound of the shots with some degree of
success—but the band as а unit dropped
everything at the first smell of smokeless
powder and hit the floor on the far side
of the stage. Crawling down onto the
floor beside the others, taking care not
to wrinkle his suit, Squinch grumbled,
Fuckin’ well looks like we just lost our
gig again.

GODLI:
GETTING NEXT

5 AND.
TO чик SAVAGE U

In the morning, Wollman was so bent
out of shape that he just didn't have the
ту to face the unparalleled mess of
his house. The MDA had let him down
but the aftereffects were gruesome. Every
ashtray looked like a recently active
volcano. Dishes covered with week-old
food—and, in fact, the whole kitchen—
were guarded by flying cockroaches that
looked to Wolf like hyperthyroid al-
monds walking up the wall. Texas cock-

roaches, he quoted from the encydopedia
of his mind, are the sharks of the in-
sect world, not only capable of devour-
ing any type of organic substance but also
prone to attack when wounded.
"Tiny, one of Wolf's roommate:
6710” guitar player whose sole cl
fame was the invention of the Toil
phone, a homemade guitar fashioned
from a Stratocaster neck and the seat of
a toilet. Later Tiny changed its name to
the Commodiola for the sake of con-
sonance. Tiny's old lady, Emily, a
200-pound boogiewoogie queen, and Au-
reliano, a South American mooch whose
lifelong ambition to get his grand-
mother to bring a pound of cocaine
the country from back home, also |
n Wolf's house. Together in a deranged
mescaline stupor complicated by three
liters of Monte Albin Mezcal Regional
de Oaxaca con ano, Wolf's roommates:
had systematically removed every record
from its jacket and sleeve and had
strewn the pieces across the floor, pro-
ducing a sorting job that could take
Failing to find the record they
wanted, Wollman's roommates tied to
make a fire in his fireplace, which was nev-

е id
pack of Coca-Cola they poured.
onto the hearth to douse the blaze.

But the mess wasn't all their fault.
Wolf kept an antique shotgun beside his
bed. He wasn't sure it even worked until
one night when he and his old lady were
involved in coke-assisted ball and
Homer, the pregnant cat, decided to in-
tervene. Wolfman threw Homer across
the room, accidentally hitting the weap-
which tipped toward the floor,
caught on the open dresser drawer and
discharged a load of number-eight t
shot into the six-by-eightfoot mirror on
the other side of the room.

The old Wolf couldn't face it. A cer-
tain amount of chaos, a degree of clutter
essary, lovable even. But there
t. And Wolf's house had gone
beyond that limit. And so, while Tiny

nd Emily were in the shower, Wolfman
perked a big fresh pot of Colombia
fee, spiked it with four black ones,
cooked up a mess of huevos rancheros,
squeezed fresh oranges and made sure
mily and Tiny had as many cups of
сойее as they wanted. When he got back
that afternoon, Tiny and Emily were
ng a tense, dense, involuted. discus-
sion of plans to remodel the house.
which was spotless. As if by magic, every
mide of dirt had disppcared. The
words were tucked away in the racks
ly. obsessively arranged
ccording to artist, style

со

alphabetically
and title, And there was still time for

Wolfman to get to the store for some
steaks.

The reason he never got to the store

AZ
BELLA Asia "T

1 A

2
ЖЫ,

Ж» Ur Vj / И, Л
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aed,

| on in
Ш

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177

It's certainly high time you got around to
fixing that lock, Straus!”

PLAYBOY

pm heard it explained that the fre

had in part to do with. Houston's having
almost no sidewalks. Generally, the only
animals seen walking in Houston are
dogs and the only people who get out in
car are the eternal
nigger m ng for the eternal
buses thre de afternoons.
1 was only а Mexican (which in
as is almost like being a nigger), but
while he walked along in thc sireet,

Volkswagen came by and its driver hol-
Jered out the window for him to get |

mul-hummin’ hippie as out of the
It ako happened. that Wolf
shit from anyone without a good
mediately apprehensible reason, so he
offered this hayseed the alternative. of
taking a flying fuck at the to
which the seed replied by
around and (aking a swipe
wit

once
45c
cial ai

d stopped ha
iber commemorative Buntline Spe-
ned at the Woll's chest, When he
pulled , Wolt
sed а, "You win, 1
don't even know how I got iuto this
street anyway. ГИ get right off it right
nd he rushed home feeling a

peculiar itching jus below his lelt
shoulder blade, where he knew the bull's-
eye

nother night, when Wolfman was
working the Act I with Johnny Win-
ter, a stone cracker had Giught Johnny
out at the Poppe Burger and called him.
g for having shoulderlength white
hair, and when Johnny shot him the fin-
ger, the man threw down a shotgun on
him. That was the law of the land, that
one should ma

firearm, its coldness
of a silent, machin
that contained such vage for whoever
cared 10 own й. Its саху to misunder-
Nor just the fuzz-topped, blue-
ysecd-chewing, redneck, racist,
. The Wolf-
th some people,
1 the

driving alor
cool as they pleased,

stopped at
ze that the

How of the moment
the freak in the nest car, who, seeing this,
wheeled out ol his c 1 laid а pistol
over his arm across the roof. It just hap-
pened all the time.

It seemed а lot of freaks were into fire-
ms, Not long alter the Volkswagen
Buntline incident, te Woll was examin-
ng some La
Brook-Mays Music Company when he
turned around and saw someone take a
good long swing with a Fender Jazz bass
and split open a freak's head. As the un-
fortunate dude lay on the tloor, Wolf
and his

1 reeds in

Voz extra

two friends out in the car were hitching
when the guy with the Fender baseball
bat picked them up. The freaks com-
meneed to present the driver with their
a 29 der-
They then
money and made him cash
his pay check, sell his camera and his
bass. The victim was negotiating lor the
bass when the ed his head at
an inopportune time. But this was be-
fore Charles Manson spread the word
that freaks were just people, like every-
one else.

FREE ENTERPRISE AND SUDDE
TERROR IN VAL VERDE COUNTY

Though the Wolf
steaks, there was dinner anyway, because
Deacon came around with a bucket of
chicken breasts. For desert he brought a
bottle of Amytals and 1 phial of
pharmaceutical cocaine, both of which
bought [rom a friend who got them
by presenting his nine-shot prescription
to the local pharmacist.
acon Was а born-anc

didn't get any

ised Port Ar

пзу not make right but it did
noney and it
raised the quality of life. His
Is who would do pretty
involvement

basic tal-
ent, which circumscribed any desire he
had to ma ney or have power: He
could sin could sing so well that no
one minded his attitude toward his
san playing When asked if he could
pump a lile rhythm, he would often
reply that. his right was his organ. hand
Ч his lett was his Ggarette-and-drink
But he just couldn't seem to get
«repeatedly returned 10 crime
ЖТ, until the
Ли up i of the

п expedi
ne he was
vements.”
He and some hardcore Texas gang-
sters got very psychedelic. They tended
to follow lads in those days and the East
Side hoods just couldn't resist when
Leary and Dick. Alpert (now Baba Ram
Das) were spreading it thickly across
the amb id purple mou
of acid, peyote, THC,
and so on. they packed a stolen Pontiac
full of drugs and «db firearms.
They took turus driving the Pontiac and
мо Harley-Davidson Electra
Glides all the way to a hippie commune
in Oregon. It was there Deacon took. his
first MDA and saw the light, ate macro-
biotic food and saw the light, lived out
the I s ike fi
from the green fields at the dawn of hi
tory—must have . . . amd saw the light.
After his extended romp with natural
forces, living the good life and frying a
few brain cells with | psychomemetic
goodies, Deacon—once cynical, money-
grubbing, criminal minded-—came forth

one

waves

warm

мі

with a completely new outlook. АШ ће
wanted out of life was to return home
with his new self, pump up financially as
quickly as possible and get back into
music, to sing and have а nice little six
room apartment in River Oaks with a
big stereo, a Lincoln Continental and a
ple of hogs. He just wanted to
h it, money be damned.

Because of this new self. he was a little
suspicious when presented. with the
10 make that money. Because of the
Dowi
Val Verde County, Texas, a guy h
neh ri the R

they stored huge qui
cin m: They had been allowing
it to trickle in a little at a time
needed someone like Dea
nections so they could мап running si
or seven tons a month. And all through
the deali
the back af

1, warning him. Like
when he met Ray and saw his
Randh to Deacon meant a
beside a grove, with a low-slung West-
erstyle house that you'd. drive up to
on а mesquitelined road, where you'd
meet someone in big riding boots who
would Well, the place's a litt
messy. why don't you stay in the West
Wing? Ray's ranch was shelled. а shac
with butcher paper covering the w
dows and exactly enough plastic dishes
for three people. The Kitchen floor was
strewn with sleeping bags. some with live
And Deacon's litle voice
Looks like a Government
if Ray could move out
and another guy could move in without
anyone eve "

Ray himself was not exactly а good
omen, for that matter. with his pearl-
handled, chrome-plated 38 revolve
stuck im the back of his jeans and his
habit of whipping it out, spinning the
Olinder with a high-pitched ratchet
sound and saying, “Boy Howdy! Zz.
Boy Howdy! Zzzz." In lact, this |

was downright nerv

causc Dı wits never sure wh
di Ray was going to
charge t pon.

The new self also saw trouble in an
excarny named Negrito, who set the
whole thing up. A stone hustle
kept himself in 5200 boots à
tooled leather suits, while g
and foh across the Rio telling people
was in саше, even though he'd never
been seen within a block of anything on
four legs except a bar stool. Even when

Deacon had no idea, that little voice
suspected what was true: Negrito caught
the weed farmer taking too much off the

top. The
percent of the sheep's
of the plants to the general as а bribe
But the kilos began geting shorter and
one day Negrito threw down on him and
at if those keys didn't start

mer was

pposed to give 75
il from the rops

and the stars!

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TO: PLAYBOY CLUBS INTERNATIONAL, INC. a
Playboy Building, 919 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, III. 60611
Gentlemen: Please send me an application for my personal

Name.

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Address. -

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Б Bill me for $25 on my keyholder statement.

CI wish only information about The Playboy Club. ABAHA

LOCATIONS

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Boston (Playboy of
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and Playboy Towers
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San Francisco

179

PLAYBOY

180

ting longer, this Farmer's life was going
arably shorter. Being a Simple
the farmer had only one choice
to go to the federales.

And not even Deacon's new self knew
bout the country boy who was used
front to drive small shipments in
apple truck, The front was loafing along
just as cool as you please, when all of a
there were squ

ul big plainclothesme

with semi.

pistols. "Now. fellas.” the
drawled, stepping out the
nidday sun, “yew fl pint them

weapons at me.
ruck fo

When he opened his
them.

nd Merry-

Them's apples

All Deacon heard was a dog h
the night of the first big run
г chrome cy

the dog was only
nares who were hiding in the

bushes listening to every word. And if it
hadn't been for having to taste the god-
damn weed before. moving it. Deacon

might have had the sense to pull out
when Negrito did. Negrito, who had
learned to listen to his own carny voice,
clutched at the last minute for no appar-
ent reason except that the vibes were
coming out of the woodwork and beat-
ing everybody over the head, "No,"
Negrito said. “I guess ГИ stay here

tonight.

And Deacon's little voice was scream-
ing, “Yes! here 10-
nigh

But what Deacon had а
was monster weed, with u p pep-
per flavor and those long pods flecked in
brown ashish. His
cars were ringi couldn't
even hear his own voice, let alone this
newfangled little voice.

They lit the last joint. Deacon was rid-
ag lead car, which was supposed to main-

three-mile distance from the truck
checks or any other
They were going about
ing 10 outdistance the truck. when
of headlights came up at over 100
and then dropped back maybe 50 yards

mpled

behind them. There was no doubt who
it was.
Before they even came t0 a complete

stop on the shoulder, four shots crashed
through the wheels and shrapnel went
scattering out across the concrete apron
Deacon and his three companions found
themselves staring down the ventilated
ribs of four Colt New Police Pythor
There were men holding them, fright-

cned men, who were saying, "Now, boys,
don't move or we'll shoot you: now,
don't сусп breathe |

blow your heads off,
didn't even realize they were pointing
their weapons not only at the men in the

car but at cach other as well, because
thos go right
through a body and keep on going. And

just about the time they had these four
dangerous criminals handcuffed, the
truck came loafing along; they shot its
went spinning off onto

the shoulder,

BLACK AND WHITE
HOLES IN THE MIND

n any other dangerous profession.
lways the chance that someone's
going to lose his nerve, just for the short
edge of a second, and blow it. Once in a
while, one of the Flying Wallend:s loses
it.

and have (o quit, Fighters. stu at
fremen—I even knew a coal m
West Virgi
id wipe out 18 miles of houses.
went back inte the m
way, this is what happened to
Spook. About the time Deacon was cut-
ting mountain roads on the Salford, Ari-

Ашо race drivers occasionally lose it
men,

long in the sj
ed

agtime sun
eras а college c

айа мух in ма

purses s loung-

ing around under the t 1 books or
curled up sleeping in the sun, and some-
thing clicked in his head: He'd been

working his ass off since he was 13, blow-
ing his very breath through a tin funnel,

getting shot at and doped out and dosed
lora few hundred doll;
from Tex:

La . to Bumfuck, Arkansas—and
all the while there were millions of
people hanging out in these high-rent
playgrounds, reading books and making
it with long-legged girls who got off on
discussi m Kierkegaard and the
vile Ê Dawe There verdi couple of
quick phone calls. some forms to fill out
id some talking to weird-looking dudes

th wide ties and wool suits [rom
Denmark, and Spook never picked up
his ах again

Wolfman at one point holed up in

Cripple Creek, Colorado, with his old
lady and spent the summer getting his
bell rope pulled and reading the entire
Encyclopaedia Britannica from "A-An-
tarah” to ~Vase—Zygote.
п was busted.
n when the d.

record and F »mplete
t the Mothers of Invention's
musical territory with Шей
ped out his joint and
pissed all over the record while it was
ng on the expensive cuing table
ed over the air.
d Wolfman endured,
ing in Houston, where musicians get
better and better and play beautiful
music in noaccount night clubs until
someone comes to take them away to
New York or until they die or grow too
old to pl

ht in а radi

rokee got himself a litte club i
Jacinto City. where he could do what
came natural, sing two or three songs a
night. drink tem or twelve m:
cop a few red birds, some bl
maybe a. Preludin, а handful of joints;
ad every once in a while, when there
a full moon inside and out, come
out omo the stage, dancing and
ke ihe end of the world v
nd bring a small crowd of East
h a voice like

farmers to tears w
ng angels in heaven.

Сз story was a little differe k
d settled down with
ш. "Well, I've

tire shoot-
still pushing up-
ight that Deaco
n insect, Hew toward
ferazed with hea
thing they tell ус
And CB shot speed until he just
couldn't im And when 1

gotten as high
This here apy
in match.

ward. He saw the
ke

s to be the
СА wa

saw,
but.

to die
Ev
is true.

nymor

son up to › about 75 miles an hour and
ed it up underneath a horse trailer.
When they finished pull dutch
handle out of his aort spokes
out of his liver, when um had patched
and sewn and strung him all together
with baling wire ‚ they looked
him over and ive. Aud
when, a few months later, he ripped а
piece of stainless-steel tubing from the
bedstead a tered an interns skull
with it, they said, “Well, he may live bu
hell never walk.” But after a year, he
as doing that too and shooting speed
(or anything che he could get) until he
was so crazed that he ran. Wollman ol
with a shotgun and beat on his ow
friend and held her captive
had to run ош onto the highway and
Hag down a car to escape,

Now he's

TEE

d in a motel
sheriff's. deputy's
sion through a judge who owes
vor. They say he'll get it.

The Mineral disappeared without a
trace. One imagines him talking his way
back to L.A. and talking a living out of
some band, having a ne living the

good life, kicking sand on skinny people
down at the beach,

ch got himself back together

g it all His

session. But word has it that his old fire-
headed, half mad, shell-shocked sound is
back and that he was with Johnny Winter

d B. J. Thomas tor a while doing
something wild and new—that’s the word.

And disast d oiled
cutting their haph
through them all. Ar I

music

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181

PLAYBOY

182

DOWN THE HATCH, AMICO!

(continued [rom page 113)
directly into the mouth, licking salt from
a corner of the fist and then upending a
husky jigger of tequila is ап exercise in
machismo. Another is the drink called
the petrolero, a morning-after mix-up
consisting of tequila, a few dashes of
Maggi sauce and enough Tabasco sauce
or any other form of liquid hot pepper to
prove that the drinker is no spring flower
but an ironfisted hombre.

The aged tequilas now coming to the
States are as different from the raw wet
goods as botled-in-bond bourbon from
iquor fresh from a moonshine still.
ctically all the tequilas arriving here
are aged in charred oak barrels and are
carefully blended, Even some with the
colorless vodka look have been aged to
a palegold color and then decolored to
satisfy the expectations who
know only the white variety. Other te-
quilas of à pronounced golden hue have
been aged up to five years in casks and
have acquired a gentle aroma and the
round, mellow flavor one encounters only
in the finest whiskeys and brandies.
Even when it comes to simple alcoholic
content, tequilas are bottled in the civi
lized 80-90-proof range, which is less
than many imported pins.

Although tequila is a spirit in its own
vight—it's been distilled in Mexico since
Colonial times—its camaraderie with any-
thing from tomato juice to tonic water
makes it a wonderful prop for imagina-
tive hosts who like to offer their guests

of those

bloody marias instead of marys, and tequi-
. collins. The best-known
ink, the margari
delightful cocktail that sometimes m
arrics because of the heavy rim of salt
around the glass in which it’s served.
Actually, salt and tequila are a wonderful
compound, just as a spray of salt on grape-
fruit or a pinch of salt in hot chocolate
acts as a natural flavor. pick-me-up. But
100 much salt is muy malo; a sensible way
to offer the margarita is to rub about an
inch of the rim of a prechilled cocktai
glass with lime or orange peel. Dip that
inch in salt. Then shak

1 oz. lime juice and 14 oz. triple sec (or
any other orange liqueur) well with ice
and strain into the prepared glass, and
ler the m ke or leave the s;
he desires. Or omit the salt entirely on
the glass and olfer a small open saltcellar
ith the margarita, permitting the guest
to sprinkle as much or as little as he
wants directly into the glass

т the thirsty summer of 74, PLAYBOY
offers the Tequila Cooler: Into a tall 1
ол. glass, pour 11% ozs. tequila, 2 ол.
ginger wine, 2 ozs. orange juice, V4 oz.
lime juice and add 3 or 4 large ice cubes;
fill almost to the rim with chilled tonic
er; float 14 slice orange and 1 slice
c on top. The first sip will make you
understand the Mexican proverb Con
amor y aguardiente, nada зе siente, or
“With love and liquor, nothing else
matters.

“The little squirt never gave me a ride like that!”

HARD HEARTS

(continued from page 116)
people fired. What better person to-do it
than Jim Aubrey?

Aubrey canceled 15 movies, some al-
ready in production, and he let the film
kers sue for money owed them and
then wait years to collect. MGM property
was sold and auctioned, and 3500 people
were fired. One memorable coup de
gräce was delivered by Aubrey in person
to a very highly paid top man with a long
contract: “We want you to go to India
and Nepal" Aubrey cooed, “to solve an
important problem—converting blocked
rupees into dollars.” The man under-
stood. He quit.

Aubrey did manage to turn the ailing
company around by sheer force, and bril
псе, and then he walked out late last
year in a policy dispute with Kerkorian.
“Don't worry about Aubrey," said an old
CBS associate upon hearing the news.
“Нез not really out of work, He's
m

JUDGE ERNEST GUINN

Crusty old Judge Ernest Guinn never
cats lunch. At noon he goes across the
street from the Federal courthouse in El
Paso, Texas. stops in at the Church of
the Immaculate Conception and then
goes back to his courtroom, where he de-
vours the re g defendants on the
docket. “You just in his court,"
says ome prominent lawyer. "He's the
most flagrantly proprosecution judge in
Ame

Lawyers in
will do
and

't win

> charge that Guinn
nything to coerce a guilty plea,

ailing that, he'll bend over back-
ward to help the prosecution get a convic-

tion. ^He's brilliant and he understa
powe s what makes him so vicious,"
says one court observer. “Guinn uses the
bond system to force guilty pleas. For
instance, if a man pleads guilty, he can
count on Ernest's letting him out on his
own recognizance. But if he wants to
stand trial, never; Guinn will either throw
the guy in jail or make him post bond.”

s conduct has raised eyebrows,
cularly in the Filth Circuit Court of
Appeals, which reversed him with
uncommon frequency, and often
donic, “instructive” terms. It has found
¢ than once that he has taken a posi-
tion of advociey—his charges to the jury
ohen presenting a better summation of
the prosecution’s case than the prosecutor
himself has made. (In one such case, he
told the jury that a defendants back-
ground “would justify you in not belicv-
ing anything that he said because of what
he has done in the past.” Is
court, in reversing the decision, said of
Judge Guinn that “he practically directed
à verdia of guilty

nds.

The appe:

2»

less. In one

case, he was scen in tli
deliberation, a shocking impropriety. In
another, he had the jurors come into his
own chambers. And on other occasions,
he’s been spotted conferring with the dis-

jury room du

uict attorney, helping him process a
“Неза cop with а robe,
“A superprick.” says another

The tragedy, отпеу. "is
he’s driven good lawyers out of his

courtroom. Nobody wants to take а са
there and lose.” Small wonder the Just
Dey

е
rimen commended the U.S. Auor-
"s ollice for its record of convicti
Said one Assistant. U. S. Attorney.
don't know we've got old Judge Gui
t here" Of 30 or 40 cases that u
cach year in Guinn's courtroom, only опе
or two at most end in jury acquit

Young lawyer Clarence Moyers is so
bitter about G g what others
have not dar He is preparing to
submit a brief to the Court of App
asking for the judge's removal. *
hes the meanest
Moyers says, “I had one clie
set up on a marijuana bust and I found
the informer who'd g
to sell

als.

man in

This is

he threw two of my
awaiting sentencing on a
drug charge. 1 had an appeal ready, but
Guinn called me into his chambers and
said, “If you pl guilty and drop
the apy
and make them
parole. But if you pe
ТИ give them ten years

appeal,
lihem up

se, Judge Guinn told
ring of the jury, "Mr.
oll con man

Moyers,
Moyers, your dient is
from way back.”

Guinn’ conduct, by all accounts, is
cous. An unscrious man, he has
not even tak ble t0 hire the
two law clerks he's permined. Will he
ever be removed? Before that happens,
h retirement age: The last time
deral judge was impeached was back
in 1936. Which proves that а Federal
judgeship is a comly place lor a truly per
isanthrope.

the t

JOHN SIMON

Simon is a film and drama
sed venom. As if the
malevolence of hi: e not
enough, Simon conducts himsell in pe
ke onc of hi
wibes come to lif
and he does so with a sh:

John
critic of unsurp

He sneers rather
p

a thinly di
a Martin Во
Bogdanovich to satiriz

and Pet

туре,

а Hugh Simon, the
n What's Up, Doc?

ngered,
s at

nasty Yugoslav
It has been noticed that when
which is often, Simon actually fror

the mouth. He was asked. about

once
and he claimed it was caused by "gastric
hyperactivity” rather than ferociousness.

Simon cackles out loud during sereen-
ings of
aher a strange episode of hissi

rovies he does not like and once,
g had dis
rupted a showing of A Safe Place at the
New York Film Festival, Simon wem up
to the film's d the lobby and
bragged that ie had brought the people
10 do the hissing and that “TH do it every

time you show this piece of shit.” Nice.
What distinguishes Simon's reviews,
«| makes them meaner than the usual

run of de is the element of sad.
ism common to them. Readers of. Nem
York Magazine. The New Leader, The
Hudson Review and Esquire get a loid
of it every issue. Simon has little pa-
tience with the unbeautiful:

Miss [Zoc] Caldwell is fat and un
attractive in every part of the face
body and limbs, though I must admit
that I have not examined her teeth.
When she climactically bares her
sprawlingly uberous left br
sight is almost ci
heterosexual third of the audience
screaming into the camp of the ma
jority. Colette had sex appeal; Mis
Caldwell has se

Miss [Shelley] Winters is a disaster,
or, considering her vast expanse, a
disaster area. She looks like a tea
cozy surmounting а sack of flour.

Miss Streisand is Ы
of he
repellent. - .
mantic heroine who is both knock-
kneed and ankleless, short-waisted
and shapeless, serag-toothed and with
a horse face centering on a nose
that looks like Brancusís Rooster
cast in liverwurst, ... And she is no

ly unaware
1 find [her] looks
1 cannot accept

ines...

ro-

actress. ...

Miss [Judy] Garland plays herself,
which is horrifying . . . her face hı
become that of a wizened child
I ber figure resembles id
economyssize tube of tooth
girls’ bathrooms: sq
ely at all points.
Georgie [played by Maure
pleton) is meant to be a still youn,
extremely handsome woman. of co
siderable depth who pretends to be.
simpler, older, homelier than she is.
Conversely, Miss Stapleton is
three of those things, and cannot
even begin to pretend to be other-
wise.

non called опе An
homeliest of actresses,
Redgrave “carries w

attractiveness to

183

PLAYBOY

184

heroic proportions.” But his most fiendish

ved for those who, in

vituperation is
his mind, contribute to what might be
called the blurring of the sexes:

Miss Su
а simpering,

Browning . .. [is]
loping. squawking.
bunny-hopping. bosom-waggling and

esty, my nam-

ination for the worst female imper-

sonator now sasi

aying acros our

boards.

m Hickey . . . repeats his
ial bit: part croaking female
impersonator, part mumbling two-
year-old, part shuflling half-wit.

Miss [Angel
an aging fer

sbury looks like

npersonator gone
sloppy . . . a bisected androgyne,
on top. ... She
is that most degraded thing an outre

actress can decline into: a fag hag.

wor below, n

ne Gingold continues her
arecr as our leading fag hag, senior

This mugg

ng, mouthing little
butterball [Bernadette Peters] is al-
ready a full-fledged fag hag, midway
between a shrunken Angela Lans-
bury and a megalomaniacal noodle.

Christopher Walken struts about
like a male model showing off the
latest Bill Blass collection while
mumbling his lines in a barely audi
ble, breakneck monotone, like so
lobotomized valedictorian at an idiot
school.

лоту ever find the chance to g
back at Simon. One who did was Sylv
who encountered Simon in a res
er he'd written her up as а
vhose very acting tech
id of theatrical gate-crashi
dumped a plate of lasagna in h

my God, Arnold, it's black tie!”

DOWN AND OUT AND FEMALE

(continued fiom page 112)
got bored in high school. Started
and running around, then
drugs.
Гуе done about every kind of dope.
That's mostly how I get in trouble now.
See, first. my girlfriend and I took this
remed саг and wrecked it. That
things really going. Then 1 started li
with a bunch of real criminals,
biggest in town, and all the cops know
зо they hassle me, too. All these gu
m with shoot dope. All of them. Dic

flying in pirouettes and long childhood

ings with hot chocolate and marsh-
mallows blurs away. 1 ask Linda how the
at her.

"Well the young ones are all right
‘The old ones, detectives especially, they
give you a hard ише. Call you names
put their hands all over you. I'm pretty
lucky. You know, they bust in. officers
with a Federal warrant and all that shit
and I just start to look very pitiful and
lost and about to cry. Before they got to
Lnow me, that always worked. Theyd
haul every dude out, and my girlfriend
outh—well, th
arms way up and hurt her with
deulls. But they wouldn't touch
me. Oh, sometimes a cop would hint
around for a little, but that always
happens."

‘The speed picks her up. She rattles on,
tells me about cops’ coming into her
apartment. without warrants and looking
around, even under the bed.

“I gota laugh. 1 tell ‘em they've got
no right and to take a flying leap, but
they don't care and, hell, there's a hypo
right under the floor tiles. They new
find it, so they look at my arms. I say, `1
give blood." It cracks them up."

She laughs loudly. The people in our
bar turn around, Twenty-two, 1 repeat,

nd wonder if I were a cop and а good
man, trying to do а hard job, how Id
r ida. She's say
she never sa y cops.

never had to, but | know chicks
who have. You know how it is. your old
man's in jail or coming up for tri
this fuzz is the arresting officer, so what
do you do when he comes around and
asks? It's funny, most of them say, ‘You
give me head and TI fix things.” They're
all oral freaks. But PH give them this:
Most of the time, they pay ой,”

Here it is, I think, the oth
things. В э What's
these ions Linda descrils

act to someone like Li

ed a

side of
ht about
. even if

she wrong? Our talk subsides. We
drink. Linda fidgets, asks the time, in-
spects her 5. She's got to meet her

current boyfriend in a little while at the

"Taco Bell. Just like a high school date.
Linda confesses that she's trying to be a
little straighter, that she's got it figured.
out that her recent past has not done her
much good. But it’s hard.

“It’s like I said before. Everything's so
boring. But I'd like to go to college. Гус
got about two years’ worth. And I don't
like the constant heat. I'm trying. Why is
it they never bother any old people, just
kids? We don't have the clout, I guess. 1
was in a car once with this guy, a crimi-
nal, surc, and we got picked up for noth-
ing. Hc got booked just to harass him. 1
couldn't testily for him, because I'd been
charged one time with a felony, Shit,
they can cuss us and throw us in jail
any time."

The hard planes on her babyish face
soften and I see why young cops
wouldn't put the cuffs on her. For an
instant, in the artificial twilight of a
loon, she is aga fresh as а virgi
ski slope. The ghosts retreat, the sca
detracts but does not disfigure. Then
Linda stirs to ask for some money for
talking with me. I give it to her and she
smiles.

“I wouldn't take it except I'm dest
tute.” She says, "Hey, did you know
when you picked me up Га just done
some speed? І was higher than a kite.
Could you tell?”

I don't say, so she leaves, plowing
through city-dirtied snow toward the
Taco Bell. I'm left to ponder just what it
is I've learned, knowing that it’s both the
same and different things. Onward, then.

Girard, Kansas, looks like a nice town,
The sign announces it's populated by
2785 Inendly folks, and coming in past
the tumescent grain elevators like those
William Holden greeted swinging off hi
Picnic freight, you can believe it. The
streets make precise squares, geometrical
grids bracketing the weatherboard bunga-
lows, the Supersweet Feeds store. the
used-car and implement lots, the First
Christian Church's poster. proclaiming
that they're calling the continent to
Christ. Upstart trees struggle like mutant
wheat to bre horizon flat and straight
as а fence . It's comfor th
symmetry.

You feel that here people have little
enough to do so that were you struck
down by a cholesterol coronary, they'd
stop to help. Theyd have a sense of
rightness and dJeftness, blackness and
whiteness, town and country, wheat and
weed. The feeling insists like a fever
coming on in the courthouse, a Roose-
velt-Federal-Lego edifice brooding over
calis, law offices, appliance stores and
orderly purveyor identified by
Cola sign as the Police Brothers
There in the cool of Carthage marble,
fecund publication racks offer 4-H craft

Coca-

xery

pamphlets, two years in a Swiss cottage
courtesy of the Army, advice on taxes and
licenses and John Deere calendars.
cially striking is a display of plants
crushed under cellophane and labeled i
a heavy Palmer hand. It's headlined “рив-
LIC ENEMIES OF OUR AGRICULTURE: LEARN
TO KNOW THESE BAD WEEDS," Marijuana is
not induded, which is odd, since that
bad weed grows wild though weak here-
abouts and is partly responsible for my
being in Girard.

Three of them there were, three
y girls from Pittsburg, a college tow
rby. Not especially "nice" girls by the
кп. standards sown thick on thesc
plains. Why, they'd learned the evils of
3.2 percent beer, mild Kansas “feld”
grass and sexual intercourse before their
17th birthday slow track by*Linda's
measure, perhaps, but enough to shock,
then alienate their parents, who mostly
are respectable middle-class folk, terribly
busy, to be sure, and with troubles of
their own. The girls would run off from
them, often to exotic Arkansas. Eventu-
ally, the police gathered them together
in Girard’s Crawford County Jail, about
two geo units from the courthouse. Two
had been returned from Arkansas after

runa-

a foray marked by pauses to find com-
pan consequent stops at the local
Stopa-Nite motel and a little grass

drowned in beer. The other was a simple
quent. All of them went into the

cell to await the law's disposition.
s a hellhole,” the county
torney tells me. We're in his office across
from the courthouse, next to the Long-
branch Saloon, which specializes
Stewart Infra-Red sandwiches and that
belly-wash beer. Vernon Grassi is a pleas-
ant man, a local product. Worried about
the state of the nation, he says, because
Governmental crookedness sets a bad
example. "Из hard to tell a little girl
not to shoplift a comb now 7 he
sighs. He wears a sleeved shirt
under a sports coat, the usual tie, Ch
col-colored trousers and white shoes.
also wears a Mickey Mouse watd

short

He
A
Playboy Calendar sits alongside his funny

trophy, which is the rear portion of a
horse with his name engraved on it above
= BIGGEST,
We're not prude: he adds, “but.
shoot. . . ." It's by way of answering
my question about the Great Crawford
He smiles dep-
id, that deputy
and the juveniles, but consider the ci
cumstances, “It’s a hellhole," he repeats.
“Now we've just opened new juvenile-
detention facilities in Pittsbu Got
counselors, color TV, cs, Celotex
soft lights, even posters with
"Love Your Neighbor’ and all that crap
on them.
But these girls were put in the hell-
hole, and there they languished for

IN B&W OR
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photo or sie. Great

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PLAYBOY

186 The starched blue uniform sh

seven or cight weeks while they waited
for the Jaw to do what it would with
em. Seeing the jail conjures how the
judicial mills must ground these
dolescent. ne something in
Bolivia circa Butch and Sundance and
you won't be far wrong. The county
erected the thing in 1915. It’s blocky

as saplings and with plywood panels

over the cellblock windows to keep
drafts out and suicides in. Views of a
und a ch

warehouse mber-of-commerce

y with its

er who is

t
hostes, a Welcome Wag
the sherill's wile
curled, whi
about
gate eyes roll about looking for a wi
ner, She shows the second-floor cell
where the girls were kept belure the
ndal.

The seel door has a little barred win-
ad a sliding panel. The ouside
windows are boarded. Three girls would
1 ybe six square [ect each,
ing what Mrs. Fry calls the rest roo
That's a cubicle with a stool, greenalrip-
ping corroded pipes, the odor of excre
ment wrapped in disinfectant. Mrs. Fry
agrees they need the new facilities and
thanks God they don't keep juveniles
here anymore, She points to the tank
across from the girls’ where the three
boys, partners in the scandal, were jailed.
No electric lights, because the kids would
tear them out. A shower, The same dea
paint. Everywhere the messag
tched through to the steel.

j
ıs. Joe Fry is tightly

ve ni

aciud-

OVE KONNIE HE LOVES ME.

vs.
A BEER WOULD KILL м

SD FREAK, QUEEN OF 1

з Ам A BAD LITTLE BICI.

On the Pauley Jail Sliding Door Co
pany door is etched PEACE AND Love. В
nowhere is there a ТҮ, psych
help, anything pretty or peaceful or lox
ing. There's only the radio the prisoncis
have upstairs, the gloom, the stink, the
wasies in the notes the juveniles
passed, pulled from cell to cell on a heart-
suing, The sheriff's wife says, as we go
downstairs, “И I was in jail, I wouldnt
put my name оп the wall. Everyone
know."

The fantasies won out, of couse. No
one knows for certain when or how it
stated, but after so many weeks, the
girls took off their clothes and wouldn't
dress until they were let out for a while
At least that's one account. Sheri
doesn't mention that, He's a
sensical man, trying to enforce laws in a
county too big for his five-man force.

YEAR.

uric

stars on the collar, pushes his pla
ace into а frown. He didn't like being
the dumping ground for juveniles. The
ls came in, then the boys, not on the
пе offenses, but they knew one anoth-
er, all these bad kids know one another.
Himself, he likes most kids, though he
and Mrs. Fry have none.

“Hell,” he says, “they were caged like
mals. Now we got counselors come
and take them out, but these kids were
just here. They'd raise Cain at night.
К glass. The girls'd shout dirty words
people on the street and the neigh-
bors complained, but 1 couldn't do any-

thing. Couldn't touch ‘em, Just tell ‘em
to be quiet"
That explains the bos dows

but not how the sex began. Why was his
deputy involved? The sheriffs thinning
hair seems to recede with the thought
He won't say exactly.

He seemed like a good boy to me,
until this happened.

And what happened was that for som
те, and when this deputy was on duty
as radio dispatcher, the three gi
let out and the three boys w
They played the mating game and the
deputy was on hand. The sheriff and the
gree this jailer was probably
ted, at least at first. He w
-d. 23 or so and the son of a Bap-
tist minister in Pittsburg. Whether for
Шш re another, he'd always
med n Jaw enforcement. The
sherif gave him his chance, working
nights as a dispatcher after he
ata local factory.

I don't know how it sta
sheriff says. "It went on awhile, lectin
them together, at least two weeks. T
found out when one of the girls finally
got placed in a foster home and just
couldn't keep it in anymore. 1 called
1 га handle

ls were
^re let out.

son or

ts the deputy, was
in’ down the stains.
. "What the hell
d, ‘That's what | want to
know. I fired him then and there.
Phoned the prosecutor and judge and
had him back there at n the morn-
ing. He admitted it all. The rest was up
to them.”

The rest t
се fo

He saw
ng on?

six-month:

ned out to be
connibuting to the delin-
quency of minors, The deputy se
two months in his own jail. then had a
psychiatric exami d treatment.
Now he the factory. ("Better

job "n ever,” says Fry) and driving a bus
on Sundays to his father's church.
‘The prosecutor, like the sherifl, selects

his memo cing them with his
likeness to the Blue Knight. He tsk-tsks
i ng Girard with Tahiti, а utopia

5, pr

the Supplement to Bougainville’s Voy-

Grasi says. I's staring to hear
Diderot in Girard, perhaps because the
Frenchman was a supreme rationalist,

But the attorney leaves that to answer
question about whether Tom the min-
ister’s son had to do with the teenage
Jerebels

"Oh, yes, a lite. Look, this has almost
ruined him.”

A little?
“You gotta understand these girls. You
an see what they wrote on the walls and
n those notes. Suckin' this dick and how
long that one was. One time they just
took off their clothes. Said they needed
exercise. Well, they'd really been dying
to get with these boys. They were in love
with them all, you know?"

But the deputy? And the rumors of

t it on a tape. He said the girls
We'd ask if he got undressed,
too. He'd say, "Sort of and we'd ask
again and he'd say, well, he had his
pants down, We'd ask if he ever screwed
. "Kind of, and
k, and he'd say he just laid his
penis up against them, stuff like that.
Only thing seems for sure is that at first
he just let the boys and girls out to fuck
together. He'd tell them to be quiet and
hed go downstairs and listen to his
adio. 1 dow't think he ever watched. He
claimed it only happened once."

ОГ couse, they'd tried the deputy in
the confidentiality of the juvenile court,
though he was an adult. “It's perfectly
legal under Kansas ssi boasts.

started

these girls and he'd s

we'd

So legal that ld have
outed had not the one girl told the tale.
thus activating the local media, several
weeks alter the events. Proceedings. for

the remaining two girls меге suddenly

held. One went home. the oth

matory, where she was found to be
Sheer coi

s' cases took place in the secrecy of a
1venile court.
The sheriff, all of them. they pro-
tected themselves," says the deputy's fa-
ther. The minister is a stocky
tumed out this S orning
sports coat
classes. He'd just preached repentance
and n so cllectively a number of
men wept midable right-
hes interposed between me
Doesn't fear the truth, he
. but he won't let people ruin his
son. He'll sue, because decent
people here wont s lies.” His
son stands to one side. He's shorter
than his father, slight, with a struggling
mustache curved down over his lip I
а new He wears sports doth
100, mostly mustard tones, and as he

and this foi

"Oh, I never list my former employers. You know how

men like to keep their love affairs quiet. .

PLAYBOY

188

collects riders for his bus, his eyes jerk
neasily from me to his father to the
oor. Soon he will leave the Pittsburg
al Baptist Temple, this long.
crete-block church, and board
his blue-and-white bus with a BIBLE we-
EVING, BIBLE PREACHING CHURCH lettered
on it, to begin delivering the congrega-
ion to their homes, at least those who did
own pickup trucks
ide, chil-
dren wait and play boisterously on the
heartshaped paving stones leading from
the Sundayschool annex. When the serv-
ice had finished, they'd rushed. for the
doors, desperate for relief from talk of
d I wondered if Tom did not, ever,
nilar release, some soul-futtering,
existential leap. According to his
he did not.
Tom was a
He admitted hed done wrong to let
those kids out together, though he says it
was customary to let the teenagers to-
gether into that big room to play game
Checkers and things. That night he was
working on a wreck on the radio and left
them. Came back to find one couple
tit. They threatened Tom. Told
a it would
1 inform
res with

Fundam

green co

of his ow

1 blow over.”

the reverend t

other versi He

looks

ns.

pained, then sincere, He's just told me
they're protecting themselves.

“After it

appened, Tom коша say
i word, just that he was guilty. The sher
iff told him to, he wouldn't, He still
won't. Well, actually, he was afraid of
e other deputies. because all this had
been going on for years. We collected af-
fulavits from several girls saying they'd
been used in that jail. T.
port time there for a short while.
couldn't very well have let
could he? He sw

m only worked
He

newspaper wanted te make it look re
big and sensational, like Tom had en-
joyed watchin’ them, got a queer satistve
tion out of that sort of act

The preacher shakes his head. His
pale face blazes red during the speech.
the red of a congenital ideolog. 1 remind
him that another minister in town pub-
lidy auacked Tom from his pulpit and
had told me that the whole community
should be ashamed. especially
who'd think differently if his
had in that T
sh п. Everyone
1 fs He goes on to sty

Grassi.

been

“You actors really do have an ego problem, don't you?”

how Tom had come to 1
pened and

m when it hap
id he was in trouble, and
how they had prayed together ший they
were sure the Lord would set it arigh
ad then he'd resigned his church, but
the deacons wouldn't let him. so they
moved to the tack. gath
evidence for Tom
Everyone supported Tom.” he pro-
s. "We decided not 10 fight to spare
his wife.” Obviously not a man for de-
g the issue. It’s as clear to him
Scripture. As the other minister had said,
"Knowing his theology, the anguish was
bitter.” More important. the facts esca
finality. But whatever did or did not
happen, the gi suffered, at the
Teast indi ost sexual extor-
tion. Leaving Pittsburg, 1 pass through
te image. А
kid ng on the
courthouse Lawn, or so it seems until he
moves and I sec he's legless to the hips.
that he's arm-swinging himself along
on his leathei
hieves the courthouse stairs and pulls
open the door to enter, this crippled kid
knee-high to the doors of justice.

counte

What
wy and
in dilere:
reports bear
blin

appens to women in the coun-
jes city happens da

s of America. The
archetypal, franchised
5 neo

regia

simi

tors, habitually de d sometimes
abuse females. In the darkest contempla-
"on of that, I think it is almost as
though the male, so long enthralled by
the mystery of generation, of continuity
resident . ha the
technology, with its test-tube embryology
cybernetics, gone fatally empirical,
seeks n to re
self by destroying his awe at

Wome:

now witho

ure who births him. I can think

lizing that while the female's an-

cortex like ighrs drunk,
perhaps this nascent sadism is the begin-
5 of the species’ end as а twossexed
«cation. and th

t the old terns will

to innate feelings:

But such meanderings do
what is. Sadism may only be
L As eccentric, say, as police
llinois, who arrested a 17-
hom the nearby posh com-
munity of Evanston and took her to
their police station. where she was forced

to strip so а matron could examine her
for concealed narcotics. This girl was
lucky. She had access to lawyers who
filed a damage suit on her behalf, alleg-
i ult in che violation of the protec
tion against unreasonable search and
seizure, inasmuch as her suspicious activ
Чез consisted of visiting a shopping center
to buy a Christmas gilt and since she'd
been charged with no crime.

On the Mexican border, similar strip
searches are de rigueur, as anyone violat-
ing the norm for appearance quickly
learns. Usually you are summoned from
your car and roughly patted, then rudely
questioned. while they disassemble your
car and lu If you're female and
kinkyish, you may be escorted to the
bright, governmentbeige Customs shed,
where you're told to strip in preparation
for a “body-cavity search," as burcauc-
ratese de puts it. Though such

spelun violae the Fourth
mendment, the border cops have а "no-
justified if there's

of contraband such

as—male or female beware—^a. greasy

substance on the buttocks” or, presuma-
bly, thighs. A woman fond of Mexico
find herself frequently fingered by

the long arm of the Jaw. In the Rio
Grande Valley region, the АСЫЙ.
knew of one woman stripped and

searched four times year. Naturally,
if you're busted, be ready lor pressure.

‘They'll be all over you for informa-
"an ACLU. Ineyer in Brownsville
said. “Push, push, push and heat all the
time. What the hell can the girls do:
What, indeed? Which makes me wonder
how carly it starts, this institutional pres-
sure on women. What effects can it
engender?

one's n

Rusty. She has
the cops and she has known the
justice and she has
. She
bunga-

strators of
known the agents of soc
its now in the

s, the rod

social sci

with
ght plastics scat

neighborhood. Its yard is littered
broken playthings. br
tered like Bakon Bits
metals like wreckage in the Sin:
тоот is walltowall mess, children's
garments lumped here and there as
though a clothesline һай abruptly given
way. Four kids leap from a staircase to
the mess, pausing im mid-llight at the
trapeze of Rusty's knees—exquisite chil-

Eur Hokusai’
She once habit

delicate as

dre is

wave ally beat them
near to death, until she committed her-
self for treatment. She knows why

“L punished myself through them, be
cause of the way 1 grew up. what hap-
pened to me. I beat them black and blue

"Come back later, honey. Grandma's entertaining

a genlleman caller right no

until Kim. that's my little girl, looked up
while 1 was wiping blood oll her lips
nd said, ‘I love you, Mommy.’ When 1
heard ti any heart. fell
then I crazy. I've worked hard to
cure myself.

Rusty is

out. 1 knew

23. camottopped, frail and
pale as only the never-enough syndrome
can make you. She's intense and smart. A
small-town girl whose house now is filled
with freshapplepie smells, pastry for
her Oriental husband, a laborer, She says
she doesn't mind the litter so long as she
can love her children, that before, when
derly, it maddened her.
She speaks through teeth testifying to
foursibl poverty—jagged yellow
stalactites—and she is hard of hearing
from malnuuition or abuse. She doesn't
know which. Abuse wasn't in short sup-
ply. The worst, the institutional, began
when she was 13. Her mother told her to
bathe her little brother, and she did, but
the child got soap in his mouth. He

she tried to be à

screamed. Rusty was giving him water to
clear the soap. She was holding his chin

when Mom entered, She was drunk,
Rusty says.

"She hit me with something and
knocked me out. When I woke up, every
one was gone. I got scared and ran away
The police caught me. They laughed

me and touched me and spit on me and
called me names. They took me to court
and my mother told everyone maybe I'd
killed my brother, that I'd been oying to
murder him. She and the judge commit-
ted me to the мапе mental hospital. The
highway patrol took me there in a squad
car. On the way, they told me I was born

loony.”
Rusty hugs herself, her arms crossed as
a strait jacket. “Soon as I arrived, the
other the girls, took me and

stripped me, They held me and shoved
а sponge down my throat so I couldn't
scream. Then they beat me with coat
hangers straightened out. "The cops and

189

PLAYBOY

190

matrons just laughed. I was there six
months and I never knew whether my
brother was alive. I suffered guilt. Ob,
God, Id reach out for love. Once I
hugged a new nurse and she got fright-
ened. She hollered and they took me and
strapped me down to a bed for four
day. Never changed or kept me
clean, 1 just lay there in my filth in a lit-
Ue room with a chaindink door. When
the smell got really bad, the other girls
would come and spit at me through the
door for the stink I was making. Then
the flies would come. 1 watched them
Girdle, heard them buzz. I waited to feel
them sit on me and I couldn't move to
shoo them and I'd think I was going

crazy. Id yell, but no one came. Then
Та tell myself, "They're never gonna let
you out

But they would let me up after
ır or five days. Oh, it happened every
me anything happened. Once I acci-
dentally burned a girl with a Zippo and
they tied me down again.”

She lights a cigarette and her hand
doesn't shake. The smallest, fairest of
her children climbs onto her lap. Rusty's
kled hand, a white shadow, strokes
child. "Oh, God, 1 love them," she
xw. She stares nvoking the per-
sonal God she believes helped her when
she was lowest, crazy with beating her
kids, with marriage, with life crushing
her like a diver too deep. She
shows me poems she wrote to allay the
demons and a piece of autobiography
about growing up without a father, with
mother who beat and cursed her, about
rats and roaches and filth and she and
her brothers and sisters wetting the straw
beds in fi and hate. No country-club
memberships here. Only the interven-
jon ef God, who came into Rusty's
heart as the ability to love, she says. Be
fore was the hospital and other ngs.
She's forgotten some and she thanks the
same God for that. “They finally let me
out. My mother brought my brother to
show me that he wasn't dead. She told
vs what you get, girl,’ when I

ried in reli

Panting the children, reassuring her-
self in that gesture that she truly is all
right, resurrected, Rusty tells about the
al tunnels with old, toothless men
hes who reach out to pat, or mas-
ate at passing girls. She conjures the
foster homes the judges assigned her to,
the potato-peel soup these court-paid
arents made her eat, their commands to
‘work or get your ass beat,” how she felt
like just a thing. “At one 1 slept in a ga
rage with no heat. They were Holy Rol-
kers. They treated their dog better than
me. His n Useless. And they had
thirteen-yearold son who'd go out for
cigarettes every night and snea
ще and come to my bed.
ad he'd run, but they always blamed
me for it."

кау,

dow

me w

Rusty would run away and be caught.
The police, she says, would tell her she
was going to be a slut just like her moth-
er. The juvenile officer would rough her
up. They'd take her to the judge ag:
And the other home. And апо
Police, judges. institutions until she was
18 and free to marry into the cumulative
mare. Rusty sighs, but her voice is
as piano wire,
k winds from the past.

Even before, whea I was nine. God,
how can 1 tell you? But its пие My
brother, an older one. Well... he wanted.
to learn about sex. With me. ] was so
scared. My mother saw and the police
came. I couldn't talk. They shook me and.
shouted at me that I'd tried to seduce him.
I didn't know what the word meant. 1
was so humiliated. I cried and cried, but
they just called me dirty names.”

There are other stories, even about
police harassment now, but Rusty's body
closes itself like a slender book, unfin-
ished but put aside. Her husband leaves
for work. She tells him to button his coat
and remember his pills. He has had a
brain jury that will kill him if he
doesn’t take his medicine. She shows off
her Is’ new winter coats from Woolco.
“Ws all right, really. 1 have more than
my mother ever did. Got a and
drier, a TV, a loving husband, wonder-
ful children. My home is my kingdom."

She surveys it and smiles. How can
she? I wonder, and then she says, “The
police, all that, you know, all they must
understand is that they're
their badges. Theyre hum:
human. We owe each other something.”

vasher

AM the others would agree. АП the
women suffering the law and its agents.
Women beaten or blackmailed ed
or raped or imprisoned in foster homes,
hospitals, jails, unwed-mother deposi-
tories—any of the society's dumping
grounds. Yet even saying that, I must
ako say that most police are not аймыз,

any more than are most judges, casework-
ers or hospital attendants.

vo. all that
can be concluded is that women, as
they move more into the ampler social
attoirs formerly reserved for men,
must beware until such ne as both
branches of our endangered kind аге
protected as fully by and from the law as
bighorn sheep. Perhaps 1 should add my
romantic regret that time and events
scem to have killed most of whatever
tenderness we may have felt toward. the
once gentler sex, and that in too many
stances cruelty prowls the corridors of
power lecring ош of the robes of
equ

Even so, not all women d

Tust to-
days authorities. A few have learned
to adore police. In Wichita, Kansas—
henceforth, let no one accuse that state

of dullness—six policemen were disci-
plined for various violations of the city
"Jaw of passion"; to wit, either having
onduty sex with two teenage girls or
knowing of it and not telling. These
irls worked at a restaurant. where the
police went, Before long they were on
the menu, they said, riding in the squad
and collecting policespecial bullets,
Teal ones, as tokens of friendship with

the officers, “certainly, though not in ex
change for sexual favors" Each bullet
bore an olficer's initials, lovingly scratched

in the lead. But all good things must be
ended. The girls phoned the local new:
paper with the story. The police chief
promised action against a crime "that
would never stop.” One cop was fired,
another suspended, three others repri-
g away the city's bullets,
t demoted from sergeant to detec-
The girls then checked imo the

tive.
hospital, the 17-year-old from an overdose

of drugs ingested in a suicide auempt and
the 16-year-old due to a nervous break-
down partially brought on by all the flap.
‘The older girl is pregnant, she says. Not
since among their belong-
collection of i

Fort Riley, all of which goes some
ice toward prov
symbolic phalli
Even cheerier, for people concemed
about women and the law, is the revela-
tion that there is abroad in the land, at
Jong last, a whore with а heart of gold.
Her name is Charloue Tyler and she
has an overpowering taste for cowboy
clothes and policemen. In her spare
time, Charlotte has sampled her wares to
dozens of police in several states. She has
ridden to roll calls in, yes, а city’s com-
ions bus, her metallic cowboy
ag like Wonder Woman's. She
with highway patrolme
d beat cops, and in the American spirit
once said she wanted to strew her way to
the very top of a police force.
Obviously, Charlotte likes police, and
they like her. She says, “They're well
ained, they know their work.” The
ly smiles on police officers,
s а great feeling of generos-
ity toward cops." True, and so no one
minded very much when it was discov-
cred that Charlotte was an unauthorized

distributor of the clap. No one accused
her of biological warfare. After all, she
was an old. you could

understand. athom

she
d cops were treated а
ied. No one could mistake the sort of
lady whose dresser drawer, rummaged by
amused investigators, was found stuffed
with badges from fir and wide. Even
one of gold, to match her heart.

“And, while the entire staff here at the hospital applauds your
efforts lo turn inconvenience and adversity into profit, Miss LaRue,
I really don't think your bill will beas much as you fear.”

191

PLAYBOY

192

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VENUS OR THE VIRGIN?

(continued from page 74)
barefooted girls singing hymns to Mary,
the Mother of God. Here Venus can over-
night become Saint Venus, Santa Venere.
A hill once sacred to Cybele becomes
sanctified all over again as Monte Ver-
gine. I do not deride any of this. Some
myths point to a truth. Some not. I can

not always distinguish. And I have lived
in. Calabria for thirty y
"Not a born Calabrese, then?"

am a Roman. I

1 Giovani ore. A pretty па
situated beautifully, poor and filthy
when you got there. The night they
темей me їп Rome, they allowed me five
and one suitcase. I grabbed the
biggest book I could find. It was Don
Quixote. After 1 had reread it by

light and by candlelight three

that winter, I had nothing else to read,
nobody to talk to, nothing to do. Every
fine day I tramped over those moun-
tains, sometimes twenty and more miles
а day." He laughed cheerfully. “Wearing
out the Fascist spies detailed to follow
me. Today the same men, as old as I am
now, joke with me over it. They were
bastards, every one of them. And would
be again if it suited them. They say, ‘Ah,
the good old days, Emilio! You were so
good for our bellies. If only we could
lead one another that dance all over
ain!’ Everywhere I came on old stories
written on old stones—myths, charms,
omens, hopes, ambitions. The cereclothis
of Greece. The marks of Rome. Those
bits in that pool are probably Roman.
You can tell it by the opus reticulatum
of the bricks. That was only uncovered
in 732. They call this place the Parco del
Cavallo. What horse? Whose horse? 1
сате on remnants of Byzantium, the
Goths, the Saracens, the Normans. Our
past. When my spies saw what I was
after, they stopped following me—T had
become a harmless fool—doors opened
to me, а Landowner's, then a doctor's,
even ister's, a learned priese's
a Rossano. I met and fell in love with a
daughter from Crotone. It was a
g little port in those days. Good
of Ciro. Good ciga
ing. One day in September 1913, after
the British Eighth Army entered Crotone,
we were married. Well before then,” he
laughed, “ nni
in Fiore had рите lack shirt and
started shouting Piva il Re.’ The old
woman with whom I had lodged sold me
for 10,000 lire to the doctor, who sold me
for 20,000 to the police marshal, who
sold me for 50,000 to a landowner, who
drove me into Crotone to show the Bri

h commanding officer the victim of
‘ascism whom he had protected for the
last four years. I did not give him a

I had fallen in love with Ci
much that I even liked its rull
tled in Cosei

Why was he

ber 1943 I was with the American Army
across those mountains.
My God!" I wailed, throwing a bit of
silver wrap from my chewing gum into
the pool of the horse. "Do you re:
that all that is over a quarter of a c
tury ago?"

He smiled his tender, stoic’s smile.

“I realize it very well. My youngest
son is a lieutenant in the air force. His
brother is studying med n Palermo.
My eldest child is due to have her first
baby at any hour.”
Why did you not return to Rome’

He again glanced toward Cosenza.
The sun, I observed, sinks early behind
those Apennines. For no reason there
flashed across my eyes the image of this
п covered by the floodwater made by

“I never went back to Rome because 1
had fallen in love with a woman who
sym-
bol of the ancientness, and the ancestry,
and the dignity and the beauty of C.
bria, of its pedigree, its pride, its arro-
gance, its closeness to the beginn
the beginnings of man and the end of the
ends of lile. 1 believed then and believe
still that outside Calabria it would be im-
possible to find another Claudia
I did not suggest that 50,000,000 Tral-
ians might not agree. If a young man in
love and an old man rememberi
not entitled to their dreams,

1 із just
Тапа com-
mercial a cit the world.”

jerked his body to a soldierly atten-
"I must get back to Cosenza. We
have been warned by the doctor that the
birth may be difficult. There may haye
to be a Caesarean. My wife will be
praying for an casy birth. When I get
hack, she may have more news.”

His wife alonc? No relatives? Aging,
both. T did not sa
ter I y from me into
another continent. АП dreams have an
nding somewhat different from their

innings.

‘Your daughter is in Cosenza?" T
asked. hopefully, but he waved his right
hand toward the so
Vo. She m
man in Re

splendid. young
sio. An avvocato. Young Vi-
. It is not far, but it is
for my wife and me at a time like 0
We shook hands warmly. We had in
some way lit in those few minutes a
small flame to friendship. He stepped
mo his dusty old jeep, waved, went his
way deep into the mountains, as I did

r too far

along the coast, deeper into his south
and his beloved past.

I slept in Crotone, badly, woke won-
dering if I had bcen as unwise about ту
food as one so casily сап be anywhere
south of Rome, or dreamed oppressively,
or failed to do something along the road
that I ought to have done. It was not
until T had dived into the sparkles of the
sea and been driving fast for a good
hour that the reason for my dejection
struck me. I had caught the mal du pays.
Four days out of Rome and I was al-
ready homesick for it. And why not? I
am not married to Old Calabria. I am a
political animal, a man of reason. A man
interested in the world as it is. My job is
to do with today, occasionally with to-
morrow, never with yesterday. I had
been seeing far too many memorials to
that incorporcal. extramundanc, imma-
terial, miasmic element that is food and
drink to men like my cnginecr and that
Carl Sandburg called a bucket of ashes.
One ancient temple had been exciting.
like those 15 Doric columns at Meta-
ponto deep in weeds and wildflowers. The
next, a few miles away, had been too
much. A cartload of stones. Decline, de-
cay, even death are beauty’s due. Never
defeat. And this deep south is littered
with defeat. A bare megalith to record a
defeated city. A duck pond to call up
great Sybaris. Not even a stone had
marked several names gloriously re-
sounding in my guidebook. On the edge
of a bleak moor and a bare cliff outside
Crotone, Juno’s church had been worn
by time, weather and robbery to a sol
tary column. All as empty now as the
sea. except for an aging woman remem-
bering the garlanded girls with. whom
she had walked in a line singing hymns in
May. Was it at Locri that I had paused
ior gas and looked into the tiny local
museum, ill-kept, pathetically dusty, un-
frequented? Aranciata Pitagora. One of
Greece's greatest philosophers. advertis-
ing orange juice over а wayside stall.
Back, for God's sake, to living Rome. Ву
tonight's plane out of Reggio.

I covered my final 40 miles in half an
hour. I swept delightedly into a Reggio
bristling with carabiniéri, local police,
armed troops, riot-squad trucks crackling
out constant radio reports. The hotel
was like a field H.Q. with pressmen and
photographers, cinema crews and TV
crews. All because it was widely and furi-
ously feared that Rome intended to pass
Reggio over in favor of Cosenza as the
new provincial capital. Posters all over
the walls announced that at four o'clock
there would be a Monster Meeting in
the Piazza del Popolo. This would leave
me just enough time to interview the
chief citizens of Reggio: the mayor, the
archbishop, city councilors, parliamen-
у deputies, labor bosses, leading in-
dustrialists, if any. For some five hours.
lunchless, T patiently gathered from
them thousands of flat-footed words, to

which at the afternoon meeting а se-
quence of bellowing orators added many
more. Weary, hungry and bored, 1 re-
membered with a click of my fingers the
name Vivarini.

Twenty minutes later, in a quarter of
the city far removed from the noisy piaz-
za, 1 was admitted by an elderly woman
in black—wife? housekeeper? secretary?—
to the presence of a very old man
dusky room crammed and cluttered with
antiquated furniture, bibelots, statuettes

in marble, alabaster and bronze, old
intings, vases, boxes of papers. books,
bowls, crystal paperweights, signed pho-

tographs in silver frames. It was the kind
of room that made one wonder how its
owner ever found anything he might re-
quire there. A Balzac would have been
delighted to list all these telltale
markers or milestones of the fortunes
of a business and a fami Шу
those signed photographs—King Vittorio
Emanuele Ш, Dr. Axcl Munthe, onc
Peter Rothschild, Prime Minister Giolitti
(the one who held out against Mussolini
until 1921), Facta (who fell to Fascism
1999), Mussolini's soninlaw Galeazzo
Ciano, Marshal Badoglio. As for me, one

look, one sentence and І knew what I
was in for.

“Ah, signore, this was once a city of
the rarest elegance. My son, whom you
t the hospital -does
not realize this, he is too young. But I
myself heard D'Annunzio say that our
lungomare is one of the most gracious
seaside promenades in Europe. What do
you think of that?” (I refused to say
but if the so-called Prince of Montevc-
noso ever said so, he must have said it
before 1908, when this city was flattened
by its terrible carthquake, and at that
date Signor Vivarini would have bcen
a very small boy, indeed.) "But, now?
as. signore, we have been taken over
by the vulgar herd, the popolazzo. Cor-
uption. Vendeuas, Squabbles for gain.
nistration. And all because our
leaders, our а the

must meet—he is

natural
landed gentry of C

осгасу,
started to aban-

abri:

ke of 1908. ..."

In the distance, an irritable rattle of
rifle fire. He did not seem to hear it. He
went on and on. I should be back there
g the rioting.

Nothing c:

but a

save us now

“It’s not my factory that’s polluting the lak

a HES

all those dead fish that're doing it.”

193

PLAYBOY

194

“Our headaches are over! Here comes
Moses with the tablets!"

lolled
eyes, his shoes were sea suede,
smoke of h as blued like a woma

mirade. . .. When 1 w

I rose at the sound of
explosion, ready to r
y, when from the doorway I fou
self transfixed by the stare of a man
whom I took to be his son—a tall, thin,
enging, cadaverous man of about

а youth
distant, dull

after all those obvious, political big
iouths in the piazza that I introduced
myself at once—name, profession, nation-

Atlantic gray, peering through In a courteous and attractively
at hid nothing of his patent nd in the unmistakable

eness of his own merits, his inquisi-
nistrust, his cold arrogance of a
pasha. 1 would have been utterly
pelled by him if his dothes were
much at odds with his m
body was gloved in a
bluish material suggestive of shimmering
night and stars, his skintight shirt was
his lemon tie disappeared
into the V of a flowered waistcoat, the
Ik handkerchief im his breast pocket

nbridge (Massachusetts) —
¢., of Harvard—he replied that he had
also spent some timc ica. Tn
d begun my
a journalist on the Crimson.
His Iaugh was loud, frank, open and d
i&hted. We shook hands amiably, I w
on the point of deciding that h
really a most en,
called his ice-cold air, his arrogance and
his suspicion. T glanced at his Чойиз

re-

ight metallic,

md I looked at his face, and it was his
mouth that now impressed me: a blend
of the soft, the mobile, tlic vulpine, the
voracious that made me suddenly think
that the essence of his first effect on me
had been the predatory and the self-
protective nature of a born sensualist.
Obviously a man capable of being very
attractive to women, but also, I feared,
capable in his egoism of being very cruel.

“You enjoyed America,” I stated
cheerfully.

For a second or two, his peering mask
returned. He smiled, not unhappily, yet
either, the way I fancied an
inquisitor might smile when watching а
heretic slowly gyrating over the flames

ties of Harvard University for

id rig
three years. He laughed gaily at another
aile of gunfire, saying, “That nonsense
l| be over in an hour." He did not so
much invite me to dine with him as
order me to give him the pleasure.

"And the consolation! 1 am going
h a difficult time."
ext second he was blazing with
fury at his father, whose tremulous ques-
tion, “How is Angiolii he had already
timidly iterated four times.

“She has been in labor now for eight
hours!" he ground out savagely. “If she
has not given birth within three more
I insist upon a Caesarean.” The
n waved protesting hands. "My
ther" he raged now in a near
whisper, “I have told you twenty times
that there is nothing scientifically wrong
with a Caesarean.” He turned suavely to
me. "I do wish my dear father would
realize that even after three Cacsareans

ny wife could still bear him a long line

of grandchildren." He laughed lightly.
“OF course there is no truth in the Jeg
end that Julius Caesar was so delivered.
1 will call for you at your hotel—the Ex-
celsior, I presumez—at half past seven.
We will dine at the Conti. It is not very
but it is our best."

1 would have preferred to catch. the
plane for Rome. But I remembered and
agincer's quiet troublement
his daughter. My own daughter had
sy time with her first.
There bounced off my mind the thought
that a nameless young woman in Bus-
sano had lost her fi Actually, it was
none of these things that decided me,
shots at which 1
ran from the pair of them. The rioting
was well worth it, water cannon, baton
charges. rubber bullets, the lot, women
screaming Jesu Marias, hair streaming,
children bawling, fat men behaving like
heroes, the finest, fullest crop of De Si
cliches, age 1950, a mot a cat
killed. And all for what? For, at least,
more than Hecuba, if for less than Hec-
tor. According to old Vivarini, for pride.
honor, family, home, ancient. tradition.

ез

but the sound of mo

for Rhegium antiquum so often raped
already—by Messinese, Syracusans, Ro-
mans, Goths, Norman:

told, for real estate, travel.
emigration, IRI, nleld's
fonditalia, Swiss hooks in Chiasso,
the Mafia, the Cassa per il Mezzogiorno.

is majority
- - But the journal
symptom is cynicism, the boil of his in-
ward frustration, the knowledge that he
will never get at the total truth, a com.
modity reserved for histo novelists
nd. poets who will reduce his tormented
futilitics to a few drops of calm wisdom.
By the time Viv called for me, T
was calmed, and if, since Crotone’s
morning moonshine coffee. still unfed.
yet not unslaked. braced by two marti-
is, which | insisted that he and J, at the
as, in Conti's, he at once
е but two lit i
o, which re
drunken night, it wat in Pe
Jesu ad years ago that 1 first

me a father.
No!” he groaned aloud to the totally
empty t. (Its usual clients afraid

ge а No baby yet!

father (“Don't touch the sc
Even here possible pollution!”) wa
Poloni: a foolish. fond old man whom
nobody wouid mistake for
three generations out of dat
kind man with fine
shrewd bı
br that co
puter if he were n
i alist: in she
ns.
By comparison 1, Bartolomeo"

lso a besotted sen.
mess like all

Hi. Bart! Call me Топ
“Hi, Tom... am a cold Cartesian. My
“he informed me seactively, ¢

some point, "is a mortal
ve selected her with the great-
est care. For 1 have also had my sorrows
My betrayals. Yet she
lic mind. She
nonsense of her father’s а y
ther, all th ulous ion of the
past. Down with tradition! It ends up in
confusion. mythology. obfuscation
hammered the table, a waiter c
ning and was dismissed. “I insist on a
Caesarean! Those two old men with
nk it bad, wrong, а
to the long line of children they
m of as their—their!—desce
he said quietly

their folksy minds 0
thre

g only a very lit-
d. looked at his watch.
neer and his
ng by the telephone in Co-
1 that agonized girl hauling on
towel tied to the end of a bedpost
old lawyer somewhere up the
ning to pori

trophies of the dead, and I said.

Bart, for Chrissak et n

I know you want to be back in that hos

pital, or nursing home, or whatever it is.
se go there!" To whi

law,

“I can guess how my father explained
those riots to you. The decay of the aris
МЇ that stuff? But did he once
the Ma With whom, of
€. he worked hand in glove all hi:
hand, my
would know all
but he would tell you
5 would ha
had not be re oue
hear his liver gurg
restraining

been far

worse if
could almost
bile— "the ‘wise!
Mother Church. Two co
types of total unreason.
At this he bowed his face
to th

time-ridden,
superannuated provincial hol
quickly recovered control of
sell sufhciently to beg me, conc
to give him the latest news from the
States. T did зо. keeping it up as long
and as lightly as I could, since the nan
tion seemed to soothe him. But it was

a seeming, because he suddenly

I had been saying. “The
e. оГ course, is a master plot
nd conspirator. Have you seen iis

whether 1 had seen rhe latest film
must. [t is a masterpiece. Five hundred
meters away. A weeping Madonna.
Weeping, of course, for Reggio.
Niobe. from whom the idea most cer-
tainly derives. What
we are! Madonnas who
‚ go pale, blush, su

you know tl
Naples possessed two bottles of n
supposed to have been dr
breasts of the Virgin i
a year? Excuse me. May T telephone?
He disappeared. This made the restau-
rant twice as empty. The padrone asked
me solicitously if all was well. Signor Vi-
ed upset? I said his wife was

ullible people
weep.

bleed,

t before the

alive. Two waiters and
bustled from the kitche
ng-woman. The padrone's wile ap-
peared. Two small children peeped. An
old man shullled out in slippers. In a

up, they babbled about babies. It was
¢ o'clock. 1 had lost my pl
not yet written my report on Ri
But Viva not come back

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PLAYBOY

196

he did not come back, and 1 was cross,
bothered, bored and bewildered. The
restaurant was empty again—the whole
company of family and servitors had
drifted off in a gabble to regather out-
side the telephone booth. I had decided
10 pay the bill and leave when a miniriot
burst into the place, all of the riot
ning cheering and laughing to me, а
e the fertile father, and in their
Ist Bartolomeo Vivarini, swollen as
the sun at noon, beaming, triumphant,
bestowing benedictions all round, pro-
di ¢ victory as smugly as if he were
she fertile mother.

"Un miracolo gradito!” he both
laughed and wept. “A son! D am the fi
ther ol a son! 1 have telephoned my
father and. my mother, my Lather-in-lew
and my mother-in-law. They are all such
good people, are the

The company 14

. dapped and

red that it was, indeed, de, a
splendid a miracolo gradito.
There will be more children" the

cook assured him.
“And more sons," the padrone's father
assured him.

He sat, sobbed, hiccuped,
champagne, but this 1 firmly lo
You havent yet seen your wile!

1 pointed ош. "She must have suflered
in," at which his tears spouted

champagne.
d uen all about her!" he
led and punished his bony breast. “I
candle for my wife to the
To the weeping Madonna!
Let us go, my dear friend. To the Ma-
donna! She, perhaps, may make them
give me one peep at my son. You will
drive me? I dare not! It is not far away.”

So we left, led noisily by all to the
door. And nobody asked us w рау
the bill

His car was а Lancia. I drove it luri-
ously to somewhere up the hill, this w.
that way, until, above the nigliness and
lightness of the city, of the straits, of all
С ad all Sicily, we halted on the
edge of a tiny brilliant piazza crowded
worshipers or sightscers, where
stood an altar, and on the altar
k-and-blue commercial statue of
allegedly luchrymose Virgin Mary.
hundred breathless candles adored h
amd four steady electric spotlights. Barto-
Лотсо crushed me through the crowds to
th bought two candles, one for
himself, one for me, refusing to take auy
change for his I000-ire bill, lit his c
t in position and knelt on the
ns wide in total

must light

abria

with
uh

fixed

ound to pray. his

ned, the miracle
‚ of course, like every popular Italian
Cle, preposterous—a word, as I
ed at high school, that means ii

onian Latin arse to front. The ob-
ject was to me simply an object. bought
from some statue vendor i i

if even that ever happened,
of glycerin deposited on its p:
by some pious or imy
would any man do thi
looked about me a
the human feeling circlin,
a whirlpool of air, or bees
butterll

drop or two
ted check
ous hand. But why
Hy, as 1

the
n à swarm, or
wave, or fallen leaves
wind, 1 began to feel
awed and even a Title frightened. As 1
moved throu murmuring or sil
crowds, conscious of the eloquent ador
tion of the old, the unexpected |
of the young, the sudden
a woman carried away scr
quiet insistent stare of two F
fixed on the painted face. I became so

vor

fected that at one point 1 thought

too, could, might. perhaps—or

scc one single, perfect teardrop

gleaming in the spotlights on the Lice of

the Mother of their God. I blinked. It
vanished.

But had it ever been there? Where

was the proof that it had not been an
illusion. even for its author? ‘The n
was inflammable, the country explosive,
1 bad too much respec. for my skin to

n one teardrop had n

why ev
looked

microscope

of distinguishing between glycerin—
that is to say, COH (OH).—aánd the
secretions of the lachrymal gland. I

might as well have committed. instant
suicide as suggest that a sim
could be applied to the wine
change during their Mass into the blood
of th I found mysell beside ıl
two motionless friars. 1 cautiously asked
one of them if he had seen, or knew
body who had seen. а tear form in the
"s eye. He answered skillfully that
not wholly relevant. since if one
w the t so, and
see а tear not so. which, he took
pleasure in explaining 10 me courte-
ously, but at some length, marks the dif-
ference in. Kantian philosophy between
the phenomenon and the noumenon. My
mind swam.
tolomeo had vanished. 1 sta
иней piuzzetta until well after
the morning. 1
opinions, two asserted experiences, sev-
1 stories of miraculous
rowd thinned, but at no time was the
tended by at least one worship-
Only when a palsied, dumb,
gummy-mouthed woman. asked me the
time by tipping ich with her finger
did I remember that by now the hunts-
a Calabria but the
ica would be wide

God.

опе did not

it w

ed on

one in collected some

er cures. TI

ign editors of A
ike, for who could he drowsy at that
hour whose first edition frees us all from
everlasting sleep? А few steps away I
found a lighted café whose owner must
have nourished the same views as Sir
Thomas Browne. There, over а couple
1 disposed in 20 minutes of
itical woubles. Inside another

of Strega

Reggio’s pe

half hour I evoked the miracle of the
Madonna in one of the most brillia
pieces 1 have written during
life. The best part of it was the coda,
which I doubted I would ever send—they
would only kill it at once. In it 1
Chicago, still daylit, still dining or well
dined, rumbling like old thunder, smell-
ing as rank blown-out candle, how it
is that the Mediter п mind never
ceases to offer us new lamps for old; and I
opined that it is because it isin the nature
of that restless mind to be divinely discon-
tent with this jail of a world into which
w e all born. That Latin mind is
always trying to break out of its mind,
to blow down the walls of its eyes, 10
extend time to eternity, so as to see this
world as only their gods have ever seen
it beforc.

No! Not for Chicago. Not that Î cared.
What is every journalist anyway but an
artist manqué spanceled to another, who
is tethered to а thi fourth and a
fifth, up to the 50th and final manqué at
the top.

1 passed slowly back through the little
piazza. The cmdles were guttering, the
shone, it was empty ex-
one man kneeling in the center
» the sleepless statue. I bade

silent farewell, whether Juno.
Niobe, Venus or the Virgin. and
went on walking through the sleeping
streets downhill to the shore. It was а
The sky gleamed with stars
s blue coat. 1 thought of my
of Bussano, my Van Gogh man-
qué, and 1 decided that the dist
between empe
vant, Every virtu
site. frilure built into a
into desire, cold reason into hot dreams,
delusion into. the imagination, death
into life, and if a youth has not the guts
to take the risks of every one of them, he
will not live long enough to deserve

or and down is

s woven into

з the straits, was that a

purr torboat? Not a sound. Here,
about 5:20 one equally silent morning
61 years ago—it was, in fact, December

28—people like the father and mothe
of old Mr. Vivarini the lawyer felt th
house sway and shiver for 32 seconds,
and for 12 miles north and south every
house swayed and shook intermittently
in the same way for two months. At wid-
ening intervals, the earthquake went on
for а y nd a half. The enti
vanished. Like Sybaris. Like Pompeii

1 looked at my watch. In a few hours,
nother green sheen would cretp over
the Narrows. Another pallid premorning
lightsomeness would expand in the sky
behind Aspromonte. 1 walked on smiling
at the fun the Vivarinis would have d
puting over the name of their newborn

child.

“And when you've got them roped—then what do you do?"

PLAYBOY

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MILLER'S INSONNIA т

“YOU'VE COME A LONG WAY, BUSTER"—A HARD LOOK AT
WHAT'S HAPPENED TO AMERICAN MANHOOD, INCLUDING A RE-
PORT ON THE LAST POCKETS OF MACHISMO; A STUDY OF THAT.
NEW PHENOMENON, IMPOTENCE CHIC; A PICTORIAL SURVEY OF
MALE HEROES, PAST AND PRESENT; A QUIZ TO TELL YOU
WHETHER YOU'RE A LIBERATIONIST OR AN M.C.P.; AND MUCH,
MUCH MORE, FOR WHICH WE'VE PICKED THE BRAINS OF SUCH
AS GAY TALESE, CRAIG KARPEL, GEOFFREY NORMAN,
RICHARD WOODLEY AND A BUNCH OF GUYS ON THE STREET.

ANTHONY BURGESS, THE ERUDITE AUTHOR OF A CLOCKWORK
ORANGE AND NAPOLEON SYMPHONY, TALKS ABOUT MUSIC, LIT-
ERATURE, CATHOLICISM, OPIUM SMOKING, CANNIBALISM АМО
MASTURBATION IN AN ECLECTIC PLAYBOY INTERVIEW

“BRINGING THE WAR HOME”—A CHILLING VIEW OF HOW
MILITARY HARDWARE AND METHODOLOGY ARE BEING ADAPTED
FOR THE CIVILIAN MARKET—BY DAVID M. RORVIK

“i AM JERRY'S BRAIN'—MR. FORD'S CEREBRUM TELLS US
WHATIT'S LIKE TO WORK FOR A MAN WHOTAKES A CORRESPOND-
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4PLAYBOY'S PIGSKIN PREVIEW’—WHO'S GOING TO DO
WHAT TO WHOM IN COLLEGE FOOTBALL—BY ANSON MOUNT

"STOPOVER"—A MINIFANTASY ON SEEING THE WORLD, AIR-
PORT BY AIRPORT—BY JOHN SKOW

“JAZZING IN A-FLAT"—JUST HOW DO YOU GO ABOUT GET-
TING A GIRL'S PANTS DOWN WHEN YOU'RE 17 AND BLIND? A
TENDERLY COMIC MUSICAL TALE—BY EVAN HUNTER

"INSOMNIA"—A FAMOUS AUTHOR IS SHAKEN BY JEALOUSY
OVER HIS YOUNG MISTRESS' AFFAIRS. A SELF-PORTRAIT AC-
COMPANIED BY HIS OWN WATER COLORS—BEY HENRY MILLER

“DO IT NOW?"—ON THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE, FOR STARTERS:
A TRAIL-BLAZING PICTORIAL IN TEN IMPULSIVE ACTS

“DON'T CALL ME, PLL CALL YOU"—A YARN ABOUT HOW
ROSEMARY, THE WELL-STACKED LIBRARIAN, HELPS THE NICE
COP CATCH THE FILTHY TELEPHONER—BY JOHN COLLIER

“SOME THOUGHTS ON THE SCIENCE OF ONANISM"—A
HANDY RIBALD CLASSIC-BY MARK TWAIN

“DO PLANTS HAVE ORGASMS?"—NEVER-BEFORE-REVEALED
FACTS ABOUT STAMENS AND PISTILS, OR FERNICATION AMONG
THE FURROWS—BY RICHARD CURTIS

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