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Of Jerry: D NS 


Sex; Sun Sh 
The Best-Kept 
Secret in the 


The chairman of the bar. 


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IF AN INTERVIEWER. told his editor that he wanted his expense 
money in cash, that he could provide no receipts that he 
couldn't mention his subject’s name aloud and that the maga- 
zine would just have to trust him to deliver, you would assume 
the interview was highly unusual. You'd be right. Ken Kelley, a 
freelancer with many f n radical groups, went above and 


nds. 


beyond the call of duty to conduct this month's Playboy Inter- 
In hiding for two years since his 


view with Abbie Hoffman 
cocaine bust in New York City. the down prince of ties 
radicals has reclaimed the title of America’s best-known fugitive 
the so-called revolutionary underground following Patty 
sts capture. And until now, he hasn't surfaced long 
enough to give са full picture of his desperate existence 
underground, with the rhetoric stripped away. As то what Kel- 
ley went through to conduct the interview, read Riding the 
Underground Range with Abbie for an adventure story in itself. 

Gerald Ford may be “oatmeal man" to some, but we've been 
wondering if he’s really as harmless as all that. Remember, the 
guy has access to The Button. So we asked Richard Rhodes to 
unravel the spirit and psyche of the President. The result is 
The Demons of Gerald Ford; the artwork is by Alex Ebel. 

Our fiction is highlighted by the conclusion of The West End 
Horror, a previously unknown memoir by the late Dr. John H. 
Watson, concerning his friend Sherlock Holmes, that was “dis- 
covered and edited" by Nicholas Meyer (“discoverer” of The Seven- 
Per-Cent Solution). The West End Horror will soon be out in 
book form. courtesy of Е. P. Dutton in the U.S. and Hodder 
& Stoughton, Lid., in Great Britain. (Historical foomote: The 
first issue of PLAYwoy contained a Holmes adventure.) Our other 
fiction picce, ldilocks and the Three Beers, is Danny Santiago's 
comic tale of a young ciicano’s infatuati 

Tennis con Amore is Wil antic account of time 
spent with a pair of racket-wielding blithe spirits from Italy; 

mong Murray's various current projects is a book on the top 
tennis tournaments for Dodd, Mead (which will also publish his 
book Horse Fever in the fall). The tohe-point illustration for 
Murray's tale is by Chicago artist Ed Paschke. 

Also on hand is Part V of Playboy's History of Assassination 
in America, by James McKinley—which will be published in book 
form kue this year by Harper & Row—with some unsettling new 
light on the killing of President Kennedy and some analytical 
artwork by Alan Cober. 

Weakness is a take-off on Michael Korda's bestselling Power!; 
it’s by John Hughes, who weakly boasts that he was “attacked, 
beaten and robbed at a Christian Brotherhood Conference 

We've also got a trio of useful information pieces. David Platt 
offers some permutations of the jump suit in Jump Shots, with 
mixed-media illustrations by Guy Fery. In 2/st Century Flix, Don 
Sutherland—a contributing editor and columnist for several film 
and photo magazincs—tclls all about those super-8 movie 
cameras. And we won't give away The Best-Kept Secret in the 
Caribbean just yet, except to say that it has something to do 
with one of the great travel myths of our time. 

Now for some visual treats. Parkins’ Place is a pictorial re- 
visiting of actress Barbara Perkins, with text by Contributing 
Editor Bruce Williamson, Suze Randall, the photographer (and ex- 
model) from London who's been shooting a lot of our Playmates 
lately and doing a far-out job. points her camera аб... Suze, in 
Picturing Herself. And Never Eat Anything Bigger than Your 
Head gives some welcome exposure to В. kliban, one of the new 
breed of off-the-wall artists that Cartoon Editor Michelle Urry 


is 


has been finding. Comments Kliban, whose feature is excerpted 
from a book (same title) that Workman (the publisher who put 
ng Cat Book) is releasing: “Curiously enough, I 


ош his best-sell 
have never eaten anything bigger than my head, or most of my 
friends’ heads, either; it seems like good advice, though.” Indeed. 


PLAY BILL 


Vm 


MURKAY PASCHKE 


WILLIAMSON 


KLIBAN 


4 


PLAYBOY 


vol. 23, no. 5—may, 1976 CONTENTS FOR THE MEN'S ENTERTAINMENT MAGAZINE 
КАЛЕН CE TINTE ETSI 3 

DEAR PLAY BOVE tresses ere EI RICE IU UP series 9 

PLAYBOYZAEIERIHOURS E ete in ects ce c ET 17 

MOVIES TELE E 20 


Owr critic applauds Robert De Niro in Taxi Driver but pans a tasteless Gable 
ond Lombard. Also, Robert Redford on the filming of All the President's Men. 


Ford's Demons 


BOOKS peer EE 26 
New novels by James Purdy, Gore Vidal, Leon Uris and Irving Wallace. 


TELEVISION) ee e e ТА. 30 
A preview of the May 16 special F. Scott Fitzgerald in Hollywood, and 
Sheilah Graham's candid comments about the production. 


as MUSICS E Eo er 


Free Porkins д А new album by the phenomenally fast g 
3 of an old one by Mel Tormé and Frances Faye. 

THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR e E و‎ dne MEL 

ITHEJPLAYBOY FORUM о Ку 65 45 

PLAYBOY INTERVIEW: ABBIE HOFFMAN—candid conversation ..... 57 


Currently a fugitive from a drug bust, the cofounder of the Yippies discusses his 
life in exile, his childhood, sex, drugs, communism and his plans for a new 
underground movement. In addition, there's interviewer Ken Kelley's sometimes 
bizarre chronicle of his Riding the Underground Range with Abbie. 


THE DEMONS OF GERALD FORD—article ........ RICHARD RHODES 82 
Lurking beneath the calm, albeit bumbling exterior of our President lies a 
vengeful, perhaps even dangerous man. A plunge into Jerry's secret post for 
ап in-depth psychological portrait. 


PARKINS' PLACE—pictorial . 86 
Secret Pleasures d Barbara Parkins (of Peyton Place fame) is what they call a class act. Ac- 
companying our pictorial, some straight-talking by Miss Parkins as noted by 
PLAYBOY Contributing Editor Bruce Williamson. 


TENNIS CON AMORE—sporis ................ WILLIAM MURRAY 91 
A romp with two talented Italians who firmly believe that there's more to life 
than ground strokes and half volleys. 


21ST CENTURY FLIX—modern living ........... DON SUTHERLAND 92 
The new super-8 movie comeras may not make you a Francis Ford Coppola 
Three Beers P. 103 or a James Wong Howe, but they'll do just about everything else. 


GENERAL OFFICES: PLAYEOY BUILDING, #18 NORTH MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, JLLINGIS $0641. RETURN POSTAGE MUST ACCOMPANY ALL KANUSCRIFTS, DRAWINGS AND PHOTOGRAPHS SUBMITTED 
IF THEY ARE TO BE RETURNED AND NO RESPONSIBILITY CAN BE ASSUMEO FOR UNSOLICITED MATERIALS. ALL RIGHTS IN LETTERS SENT YO PLAYBOY WILL BE TREATED AS UNCONDITIONALLY 
W'S UNRESTRICTED RIGHT TO EDIT AND TO COMMENT EOITORIALLY. CONTENTS COPYRIGHT 1976 BY PLAYBOY, 


PLE AND PLACES 15 PURELY COINCIDENTAL CREDITS: COVER: FLATMATE/MODEL NANCY CAMERON, DESIGNED BY TOM STAEBLER, PHOTOGRAPHY 
BY: BILL ARSENAULT- т. 93 (1): DAVID ваны. P. 3: WILNA BOND, Р. 123 (1), 126 (2); CHARLES W. BUSH, P. 3; DAVID CHAN, Р. 3 (1): JEFF COMER, P. 3: 


S IN THE FICTION AMD SEMIFICTION IN THIS MAGAZINE AMD ANY REAL 


COVER STORY 

Believe it or not, the Rabbit on this month's cover was not the product of a touch-up job 
by our ort staff—it actually appeors in Sevrat's Grande Jotie. But don't take our word 
for it; the original painting, with Rabbit intact, can be seen hanging mojestically in the 
Art Institute of Chicago, ond reproductions abound. 


THE BEST-KEPT SECRET IN THE CARIBBEAN—travel ............... 96 
Until now, you had to be either a spy or а native to know the right times ond 
places to have fun under the sun in the tropics. Our very own staff of Robinson 
Crusoes has discovered when ond where to go for maximum enjoyment. 


GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEERS—fiction .. . . DANNY SANTIAGO 103 
What happens when a saintly chicano falls in love with a peroxide blonde. 


SINGLE-MINDED MISS MC CLAIN—playboy's playmate of the month. . 104 
Our outspoken Miss May knows what she wants—and then some. 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES—humor ............................ 114 


THE WEST END HORROR—fiction .......... .NICHOLAS MEYER 116 
In the conclusion of this new adventure by the author of The Seven-Per-Cent 
Solution, Sherlock Holmes tangles with Bram (Dracula) Stoker. 


THE HAUTEBURGER—food ................ EMANUEL GREENBERG 119 lens Lady 
Tired of eating bland patties that look like they've just been run over by a 
steam roller? Try the gourmet approach. 


WEAKNESS—parody .......................... JOHN HUGHES 121 
You say you've read Power! by Michael Korda and you're still not going up, 
up, up? Our outhor discusses the advantages of being a door mat. 


PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF ASSASSINATION—article. . JAMES McKINLEY 122 
Second of two parts, in which all the theories on the most controversial and mys 


terious of Presidentiol assassinations are exomined—that of John F. Kennedy. Memoired Holmes 


SHOWER POWER!—modern living ......................... 128 
When it comes to the new shower heads, getting clean is only half the fun. 


PICTURING HERSELF—pictorial .... 133 
The talented Suze Rondall, photographer and model, focuses her camera on a 
dynamite subject—Suze! 


THE HANGED MAN WATCHING—ribald classic ... .PIETRO ARETINO 139 еши 


JUMP SHOTS—attire .DAVID PLATT 140 
lis origins may have been uti itorian, but the jump suit now leads a life of leisure. 


NEVER EAT ANYTHING BIGGER THAN YOUR HEAD—humor. .KLIBAN 143 


Thot ond other sage advice from the king of off-the-wall cartoonists. 


PLAYBOY POTPOURRI . . Jump Svits P. 140 


CONT, ғ. 3. SUZANNE SEED. r. 3. VERNON L- SMITH, ғ. 3, SUZE, P. з, 104-107, 100 (1). 109 (2), ИЭ, 133-137; UNITED PRESS INTERNATIONAL, P. 122 (2). 124, 126 (2); WIDE 
123 (1), P. 10, ELTON JOHN PHOTOGRAPH BY JOSEPH STEVENS, FROM THE NOOK "'ELTON JOHN AND BERNIE TAUPIN," BY PAUL GAMPACCINI, PUBLISHED BY FLASH BOOKS. Р. Vi. — IHE 
"COURTESY ACKERMAN SCIENCE FICTION ARCHIVES: P. 122 (1). 123 (4), 126 (1), 127 (7), 204 (2), THE NATIONAL ARCHIVES; P. 133 (1), H2 (1), TAPMUDER THAMES, COPYRIGHT. © 
W962 BY UM COMPANY, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED; P. 127 (2), PHOTOS COURTESY OF HAROLD WEISBERG. 


PLAYBOY, HAY, 1976, VOL. 23, NO. 5. PUBLISHED MONTHLY DT PLAYBOY, IN NATIONAL AMD REGIONAL EDITIONS, PLAYBOY BLOG., 919 н. MICHIGAN AVE, CHGO., ILL. єой. SECOND.CLASS POST- 
AGE PMID AT CHGO., мл... AND АТ ADDL, MAILING OFFICES. SUBSCRIPTIONS: IN THE U.S., $10 FOR ONE YEAR. POSTMASTER: SEND FORM 3579 TO PLAYBOY. Р. O. OK 3410, BOULDER, COLO. BO. 


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You're comfortable with a Minolta 
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PLAYBOY 


ниси M. HEFNER 
editor and publisher. 


ARTHUR KRETCHMER edilorial director 
ARTHUR PAUL art director 
SHELDON WAX managing editor 

GARY COLE photography editor 


G. BARRY GOLSON assistant managing editor 


EDITORIAL 
FICTIO! 


ROME MACALLEY editor, VICTORIA 
€ AIDER, RSUBLETTE assistaut editors 
SERVICE FEATURES: TOM OWEN moder living 
editor: nav PLATT fashion editor; THOMAS 

о food & drink editor + CARTOONS: 
MICHELLE URRY editor = COPY: ARI BOURAS 
editor, STAN AMPER assistant editor = STAFF: 

{AM J. HELMER, GRETCHEN MC NFESE, ROBERT 
ID STEVENS senior editors; LAURENCE 
. DAVID STANDISH staff writers: JOUN 
BLUMENTHAL їр SNYDER. associate 
editors; J HES R. PETERSEN, ED 
WALKER assistant editors, ISAN HEISLER, MARIA. 
NEKAM, BARBARA NELLIS. KATE NOLAN, KANEN 
PADDERUD. TOM FASSAVANT research editors; 
DAVID BUTLER, MURRAY FISHER, ROBERT L. CRIEN, 


JEAN ROBERT SHERRILL, BRUC 
WILLIAMSON (movies), JOUN skow contribu 
ing editors = ADMINISTRATIVE SERVIC 
rATMICIA PAPANGELIS administrative editor 
ROSE JE ights & permissions mana; 
MILDRED ZIMMERMAN administrative assistant 


SCHAEFER, JOS 
raczek asistani directors; JULIE FILERS, 
VICTOR HUBBARD, GLENN STEWARD art assistants; 
EVE HECKMANN administrative assisiant 


PHOTOGRAPHY 


MAWLYN GRABOWSKI west coast editor; JANICE 
BERKOWITZ MOSES associate editor; WOWAS 
Wayne new york editor DAVID 
CHAN, Ri HOOKER, 
комо aphers: пох 


мию azur associate 
photographers: MICHAEL BERRY, JUDY JOHNSON 
assistant editors; vro KRIEGI color lab super- 
wisor: ROBERT CHFLIUS. administrative editor 


PRODUCTION 


JOHN MASTRO directori ALLEN VARGO man- 
ager: ELEANORE WAGNER, RITA JOHNSON, 
MARIA MANDIS, RICHARD QUARTAKOLE assistants 


READER SERVICE 


GNYLY GARDNER director 


CIRCULATION 


BEN corpnrkG director of newsstand sales: 
ALVIN WIEMOLD subscription manager 


ADVERTISING 
HOWARD w. LEDERER advertising director 


PLAYBOY ENTERPRISES, INC. 


RICHARD s. ROSENZWEIG executive vice-presi- 
dent, publishing group, and associate pib- 
lisher; RICHARD M. KOFF assistant publisher 


eS 


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DEAR PLAYBOY 


[ оон: PLAYBOY MAGAZINE < PLAYBOY BUILDING, 919 N. MICHIGAN AVE., CHICAGO, ILLINOIS 60611 


PROSE AND CAAN 
Your February interview with James 
n not only shows the public what an 
articulate Jughead he is but once again 
proves how really homosexual the macho 
Its about time men realized how 
drinkin’, fightin’ and fuckin 
pscudo masculinity turns women off. 
Barbara Beatti 


Speaking of the mooning competition 
among Jimmy Caan, Bobby Duvall and 
Marlon’ Brando—I believe Marlon won 
the contest once and for all when he 
mooned them all from the screen in 
Last Tango in Paris. 

Francis Ford Coppola 

San Fra о, Califor 


I know that every women's libber in 
the world will be down my throat, but I 
agree with every word Саап said about 
women and liberation. 

Faye Phillips 
Tellico Plains, Tennessee 


Thank you for the long-awaited inter- 
view with James Саап. A truly great 
actor, he is also an honest, down-to-earth 
who seems to really enjoy life. 
Jeff Benario 
New Rochelle, New York 


The next time Caan gets into a situa- 
tion and docsn’t know whether to shit 
or go blind, tell him to fart and dose 
one eye. 


Don Bortz 
‘Titusville, Florida 


Poor Jimmy. Movie stardom aside, he's 
obviously a frustrated (and brilliant) 
master of the Ricklesstyle put.down. 
Hilarious! When does his act open in 
Vegas? 


Milt Tatelman 
New York, New York 


1 personally hope that James Caan 
wins his well-deserved Oscar as Asshole 
of the Year. 

Joe Riddle 
Conway, Arkansas 


It's refreshing and encouraging to find 
a man with cnough balls to stand up to 


see that Caan (unlike so many “ 
ened” men these days) doesn’t spend his 


time trying to apologize for having been 
borna male. 

Bruce L. Crouchet 

Fort Bragg, North Carolina 


1 agree with James Caan: Back to the 

caves, where the man ruled supreme. 
Gloria McGraw 
Rochester, New York 


I never laughed so much in my life 
Carole Weddle 
Salem, Virginia 


While I don't really agree with Caan’s 
statements about women, I have to admit 
he really turns me on. 

Linda Dobbs 
Miami, Florida 


DRUG BUSTERS 
Heartiest congratulations on Frank 

Browning's article An American Gestapo 
(PLaYsoy, February. Drug-law-enforce- 
ment efforts need all the exposure of 
that type they can get. You have per 
formed a valuable public service. For 
several years now, I have been teaching 
an undergraduate psychology course in 
contemporary drug use. One point I 
have been emphasizing is the in: 
immorality that results from. trying to 
solve druguse problems by law enforcc- 
. Browning's article will be required 
ding for my students. 

Hugh Brown, Ph.D. 

University of Miami 

Coral Gables, Florida 


Thanks for your excellent article ex- 
posing the Drug Enforcement Adminis- 
tration as the most corrupt Government 
agency ever. Although there were several 
serious contenders for the position, I 
concur with your selection based upon 
my experiences as an intelligence officer 
with the notorious DEA. 

Patrick Saunders 
Long Beach, California 


Frank Browning is to be congratu- 
lated for excellent investigative journal- 
ism. The real direct threat to most 
Americans civil liberties is the DEA. 
In 1974 alone, 642,000 Americans had 
their civil liber fringed upon by 
state and. Federal narcotics officers. At a 
cost of perhaps a billion dollars in law- 
enforcement resources, these domestic 
narcotics officers purported to protect us 


FUAYBOY, WAY 


^ 5. PUBLISHED MONTHLY BY PLAYBOY, FUAYBOY GUILDING, 918 NORTH MICHI. 


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PLAYBOY 


10 


against our own folly. In the name of 
helping us, they made criminals out of 
more than half a million of us. Laws 
that purport to criminalize victimless 
crime invite the type of misuse of power 
that Frank Browning documents so well. 
As long as the laws remain, there will 
be an ample number of narcotics officers 
more than willing to exercise their po- 
tential for abuse. 

R. Keith Stroup, Director 

NORML 

Washington, D.C. 


As one of the attorneys for Gaines 
ville Eight defendant Scott Camil, 1 read 
with interest Frank Browning's article 
on the Drug Enforcement Administra 
tion. When the First Amendment speaks 
of freedom of the press, I am satisfied 
that (at least in 1976. if not in 1776) it 
contemplates the kind of vigorous in- 
vestigative reporting exhibited in An 
American Gestapo. The DEA, in my ex- 
perience, does, indeed, “play” by its own 
set of rules. It’s to be hoped that your 
exposure of its tactics will lead to cor- 
rective legislation and cleaner control. 
PLAYBOY and Browning are to be con- 
ulated for their efforts. 

Larry G. Turner 
Gainesville, Florida 


An American Gestapo is a cheap shot at 
the Drug Enforcement Administration. 
So what if a few innocents were brutalized 
by agents, even tortured (mostly by 
foreign police, who react more violently 
than we Americans)? Or if some таг 
al criminals were wiped out by a few 
corrupt cops? Can the author's statistics 
cancel out the untold numbers of inno- 
cent kids lured down the path to addic- 
tion by those who would profit from the 
misery of others? 


Bob Funesti 
Guam 


Somebody's got to clean 
абе in this country. 


up the drug 


Lamont Harper 
Galveston, Texas 


ted. drug addiction is ап evil; 
but fighting it with an outfit like the 
DEA is an even greater evil 
Larry Stein 

New York, New York 


Browning's article saddened and hor- 
rified me. 

Pete Johnsen 

Los Angeles, California 


ELTON REVISITED 

Elton John's "no comment" on bisex- 
the January Playboy Interview 
is like Richard Nixon's "no comment" 
оп Watergate (except bisexuality is fun) 
C'mon, Elton; 


шош! 
Leslie Love 
Hollywood, California 


John interview, you say, "Five years аро, 
Elton John was just another schlub like 
the rest of us." I find it impossible to be- 
lieve that anyone as cool and talented as 
Elton could ever have been а schlub. 
Arnold Cobb 
New York, New York 
Now, would we make something like 
that up, Arnold? Of course not. This pic- 
ture of Elton was taken some years ago, 


during the peak of his schlubidity. Need 
we say more? 


OIL SPILLS 
Robert Sherrill's Oil: The Final Solu- 
tion (Selected Shorts, pLaynoy, Febru- 
ary) is excellent. I have yet to see anyone 
put the on into perspective as well 
as Sherrill does. Three cheers for Sher- 
nd for ртлувоу! 
5. E. Kildahl, Jr. 
Minneapolis, Minnesota 


Resource imperialism is a strange гес 
ommendaton from "liberal" Robert 
Sherrill. Is he seriously advocating sciz- 

ng oibrich Saudi Arabia in 
"annex it as [an] energy colony 
turning Iran over to the Russi: 
keep them quier” isa joke. 

John С. Merriam, Ph.D. 
Bowling Green, Ohio 


Robert Sherrill for Secretary of State 


in 


Fortune Cardona 
Phoenix, Arizona 


CREDIT RATI 

It was a little difficult to read Craig 
Veuer's Why Is a Turnip Like а Free- 
Lance Writer? (rLaywoy, February), be- 
cause the batteries in my flashlight are 
worn down. See—I was in the closet hid- 


g from my creditors. I, too, am a frec- 
lance writer, but so far, that’s all it’s 
been for—free. Vetter’s levelheaded ac- 
count of poetic poverty picked up my 
spirits and sent my body right out of the 
close I even turned on a light that 
night. Thanks, Craig. 

Terry Quinn 
Media, Pennsyb 


ania 


As far as I'm concerned, Craig Vetter is 


half-assed. 


Arthur H. Parson 
Honolulu, Hawaii 


Vetter's article is a great consolation to 

me. Misery does, indeed, love company 
John Drumm 
Topeka, Kansas 


HOCUS FOCUS 
Dan Greenburg's arı 
ant M. B. Dykshoorn, “J Don't Make 
Hocus-Pocus” (PLAYBOY, February) is 
well written and easy reading for lay 
persons interested in ESP and psychic 
phenomena. Our research of clairvoyant 
Dykshoorn for the past five years leads 
us to conclude what laboratories cannot 
prove—he possesses extrasensory abili- 
ties for which we do not have scientific 
terms. He is, in our opinion, the great- 

est living psychic. 

Dr. James G. Boltoi 
N.C. Society for P: 
Parapsychologi 
Charloue, North Carolina 


le on clairvoy- 


Dan Greenburg's article on Dykshoorn 
vividly brings to mind my own impres- 
sions of him. Dykshoorn told me, too, 
that I have "the ability to make them cry 
and to make them loff,” in describing my 
great acting ability. He said he saw me 
being a successful actress on the legiti- 
mate stage in New York within a усаг 
or two. That time limit has passed (un- 
less he confused my being onstage at the 
Waldorf Astoria once a year at à models 
convention with acting), but I'm keeping 


the faith, anyway. 
Troyanne Ross 
Charlotte, North Carolina 


SWEET DREAMS 

There may be much that is factually 
correct in Graham Masterton's article 
Understanding Your Erotic Dreams 
(ьслувоү, February), but its tone of cer- 
tainty seems to me gravely incorrect. 
Dreams still emerge from and fade into 
the land of shadow; we should honor 
them by refraining from dogmati 
about our own, never mind 
people's. 


other 


Brian W. Aldiss 
Abingdon, England 


Although Graham Masterton's article 
scinating reading, I feel strongly 
that it is wrong to lead people to believe 
that significant interpretations of dreams 


CAN'T COME TO HOLLAND 
^ HAVE A HEINEKEN. 


When you do go to Holland.visit this 300-year 
old windmill.” The Barremolen" in Zoeterwoude. 
Its dedicated to Van Munching of New York. ex- 
clusive importers of Heineken Beer in the U.S.A. 
Meantime, enjoy Holland with your next glass 
of Heineken. Lightor Dark —or on draft. Heineken 
tastes tremendous. No wonder its America's #1 
imported beer. 


PLAYBOY 


12 


Can a speaker be 


allthings 
to all people? 


You wouldn't think so. 
But when rock 
enthusiasts and classical 
music buffs both write 
and tell us their B-I-C 
Venturi's give them more 
of what they're listening 
for...and when high 
sound level listeners and 
low level listeners both 
tell us their record 
collections have taken on 
anew dimension since 
they've put B-T-C 
Venturi's into their 
systems... and when 
audio enthusiasts and 
audio engineers and 
audio salesmen all write 
raving about B-I-C 
Venturi"accuracy and 
efficiency and value...we 
begin to wonder. 
Because, finally there 
is a speaker that can 
satisfy everyone since it 
does everything so well, 
doesn’t take up the whole 
room, and doesn’t require 
a megabuck investment. 
Write for our new 
20 page Consumer Guide 
to Loudspeaker 
Performance. It explains 
why this is so! В:ГС 
Venturi, Westbury, N.Y. 


11590. 
| | ooo 
1 ШЕШ 
` BICVENTURÍ 


BRITISH INDUSTRIES CO. A DIVISION OF AVNET INC. ©1976 


might be selected by people to influence 
their lives. 1 have compared my erotic 
dreams with my conscious sexual tastes 
very carefully, and they are almost the 
opposite. The dream sex life is normally 
more boring and repetitive, which is 
what one would expect from assive 

;conscious. One dream th 
itself spring onions is set in a 
day camp, where women crowd round me 
and frig my clitoris ur 
night's drcam had пи 
plasticsurgery penis—stift 
up, with a base embedded in my cu 
felt very uncomfortable and unfortunately 
they'd done a crummy job of it, as thc 
frenulum was at the side. Anyhow, I was 
ma g to fuck with as I can 
remember. Well, the point is, no way do 
І want to be a man, or fuck women, 
cither. In real life, I'm enjoying being 
as femi as possible. It was [un bc 
. but if Td t 
ously, I'd be 
haunted by that dream. I'd be worried 
sick that maybe, deep down, I am un- 
happy asa woman. 


Tuppy Owens 
London, England 

TUNDIES 
I have been an avid reader of рлүвоү 
for many years. Many a lovely 
graced the pages of your magaz 


ever, the most beau 
appears on pages 120 and 121 in your 
February Funderwear эр Please, 


where can I see more of this lovely, and 
who is she? 

D.S.Kahlstof 2 

Little Rock, Arkansas 

If you've really been an avid reader 

for many years, as you claim, you'll rec- 

ognize her as Lisa Baker, our November 

1966 Playmate. Next time, pay attention. 


MAAS HYSTERIA 
Your ew of Peter Maas's King of 

the Gypsies (Playboy After Hours, Janu 
ary) is prejudiced and ill informed. Clear- 
ly, your revi made no attempt to 
research his topic and has accepted the 
content of M ist book without 
qu The reviewer perpetuates un- 
necessarily a literary stereotype by re- 
[erring to traditional costumes nobody 
wears (except in Hollywood), confuses 
the terms outcast and marimay and 
speaks of pride in illiteracy despite the 
fact that gypsy schools have been сы 
lished in many American cities. One ex- 
pects better [rom PLAYBOY. 

Toussaint Dileau 

International Gypsy Committce 

Austin, Texas 


r 


GAGTIME GAGGLE 

Although I loved the book on which it 
is based, Gagtime (rLAYnov, February), 
by David and Ziggy Steinberg, is great 
fan to read. 


L. P. Johnson 
New York, New York 


An inspired parody of a great, great 
book. Well done! 
Stephen Harper 
Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 


SAP LINES 
Loved your Saps in Cinema (pLAvuoY, 
February), but I can't believe you could 
have overlooked the classic sap of the 
century, Steve McQueen in The Blob. 
Marsha A. Cox 
Upper Montclair, New Jersey 
We didn’t overlook it, Marsha, we just 
didn't have room for it. As you know, 


McQueen wasn't tlhe Blob but the teen- 
age hero who warned the town about the 
Blob. Hes the one standing in the middle 
of the picture above. 


Good work on Saps in Cinema. As a 
movie and TV-trivia buff (not much 
else to do here in South Dakota), I feel 
point out a classic that you 
neglected: Clint Eastwood in Revenge of 


the Creature. 
Jack Schmieder 
Sioux Falls, South Dakota 


Aren't you forgetting Jack Nicholson's 
memorable performance as the mas 
ochistic simp drilled out by a pretend 
dentist in The Little Shop of Horrors? 
Osgood Schlatter 
New York, New York 
Sorry, fellas—we didn't have room for 
any more. Stay tuned for “Saps in Cine- 
ma, Part I1,” coming soon to neighbor- 
hood newsstands. 


VAN PEEBLES FANS 
I enjoy reading and 


looking at 
1 so im- 
pressed with the quality of the writing 
as I am with Melvin Van Peebles’ The 
True American (pLaywoy, February). Van 
Peebles handles the language with style 
and finesse. 


E: 


PLAYBOY, but scldom have I bi 


"Tom Hayes 
Minneapolis, Minnesota 


Tt was a blessing reading Melvin Van 

Peebles’ story The True American. 
Bobbie J. Gallager 
Hammondsport, New York 


"Palmolive Rapid-Shave 
improved its lather 
and l improved 
my strokes. Pancho Gonzales 


bL У Palmolive Rapid © so t 
4 leading shave cream. I can feel the difference 


{ель OLIVE 


The Forehand Its creamer Moist. 
and beard softeners make my beard an easy 
target. Feels good on my face, too. 


TE 


p 
— Y 
The Backhand My favorite stroke. New 
Palmolive Rapid-Shave stays moist on my face 
for a close, comfortable shave. Its lather is 
richer and creamier than ever before. 


/ 
VA j 


Save 15 on a winning shave. 


Watch for 
Pancho Gonzales 
Palmol 


tennis tips М 
on your favorite [Ss 
tennis programs. Й 


X: 


„Тһе PANT 7 bi. 


= а 
coming extinch е: E a к vie 
oi Since 1970 Ay Ji irem * Namely е asit "CE sae Full i = 


and domestic makes hav “beautiful Triumph TR6 andthe „ tion) Four-sp uy 

` disappeared. Last year, vei the racebred Triumph Spitfire. nid frarismission. ke. 7d 

ie nm mm. ¥ Being true open roadsters, rack- гапат рі Bo Pars L 
In view of this; we'd liket .eachtais you feel a wind-in-the. F 


emind you:thabyou:can S foir freedom almost forgotten in. ET 
“> ay'sboxed-in world. = 


: е: 
ы С 


РА mileage-of 19 mpg (tity) 
25 (highway) for the 
(city) a 


ro “Afterall, ifs the stron 
ea ainy species that eS ee 


ia 


Don ele for: 
HY menthol. - 


up to КОРЕ. : 
Pure menthol and 
the taste of extra — 
coolness have = 


j Supe 2 


Engs 


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


Kings, 17 mg. "tar," 1.3 mg. nicotine; Longs, 17 mg. "tar," 1.2 mg. nicotine, av. per cigarette, FTC Report Nov. 75 


PLAYBOY AFTER HOURS 


e hereby sentenced to two hours 
of cating out, An article on sex in the 
nation's capital, appearing in the White 
Plains, New York, Reporter Dispatch, 
noted that "of the roughly 450 women 
who pleaded guilty or who were convicted 
of prostitution in 1974, only three per- 
cent were sentenced to jail and only 13 
percent were dined. 
. 

Carburetor au gratin: After having 
conducted a telephone poll to find out 
whether Americans are really trying to 
conserve energy in the home, the Federal 
Energy Administration has concluded 
that five percent of the American public 
is lying. The last question of the poll— 
which included obvious queries such as 
“Do you use electrical appliances less? 
was “Have you installed a thermidor in 
your automobile?" Five percent answered 
yes. Thermidor is a way of preparing 
lobster. 


. 

From The Wichita Sun's TV schedule: 
“M*A*S*H: Hawkeye wrecks his jeep, 
suffers a concussion and finds himself in 
a Kor 


an.” 


. 

Listen louder, I can't talk to you: At 
the request of the military, two Califor- 
nia scientists have developed a device 
that allows people to talk through their 


cars. 
. 

Police in Lahti, Finland, arrested. ten 
persons for being drunk and disorderly 
at a party. “There wasn't a single sober 
person in the place," a police spokesman 
id. The festivities were organized by the 
town's temperance board. 

• 


An Akron. Ohio, man froze to death in 
his home this past winter after his gas 
was shut off for nonpayment of a $60 bill, 
t Ohio Cas 


‘The office manager of the 


Company issued this condolence: “It's 
too bad about the man’s death. We prob- 
bly won't have a chance of collecting 
the money now.” 


. 

How about Three Musketeers for the 
next onc? A University of Maryland 
has discovered what 
appears to be the nearest galaxy to our 
Milky Way has named the new duster 
of stars Snickers. 


astronomer who 


. 
There's nothing ostensibly funny about 
sign, posted outside a Hialeah, 
Florida, curtain store: GET MEASURED AT 
OUR EXPENSE AND DRAPED AT Yours. Punch 
line: The first D in draped had fallen off. 


this 


A senator from the island of Yap in 
Micronesia has introduced a bill that 
will prohibit the wearing of neckties in 
Micronesia, because, as the bill states, 
neckties have “no redeeming social quali- 
ties." Added to the bill is the provision 
that any person who violates the act shall 
be considered an idiot and upon convic- 
1 have a piece of Yapese stone 
money tied around his neck, “for the 
duration of his natural life and there- 
after until he mends his errant ways." 

. 

You mean the girls have shorter billy 
clubs, right? London's Daily Mail ran 
the following blurb in a full-page ad 
promoting policework as a career for men 
and women: “What's the Difference Be- 
tween a Policeman and a Policewomanz 
Basically, About Four Inches." 

E 

Bear left at the St. Lawrence Sea- 
way. . . . Several hours after viewing the 
movie Jaws, a 17-year-old girl from Wich- 
ita, Kansas, started having terror attacks, 
during which her fingers trembled, her 
back became rigid, her limbs jerked and 
she shouted, “Sharks! Sharks!" The at- 
tacks continued for three days until her 
doctor convinced her that the risk of a 
shark attack in central Kansas was, in- 
deed, remote. 


tion wi 


. 
Does the K in K.G.B. stand for ka-ka? 
Reviewing a novel on international in- 
trigue, The Austin American-Statesman 
described one of the book's main charac- 
te ‘General Daniell is a troublemaker 
and he may be 
munists.” 


defecator to the Com- 


. 

An elderly Mississippi woman received 
n overpayment of $146 on her Social 
Security check and reported the mistake 
to her local representative, who sug- 
gested she put the extra money in a 


17 


PLAYBOY 


18 


bank while he looked into the error. 
The overpayment continued for ten 
months, by which time the lady's bank 
ace had gone up to over $1400. The 
next thing she knew, she got a notice 
saying she was being cut off from Med- 
icaid because she had too much money 
in the bank. 


° 

Well, he couldn't very well have it 
mimeographed, could he? Responding to 
a bomb scare, police thoroughly searched 
a girls’ dorm at the University of Geor- 
gia. They found no explosives but did 
come across a young man "exposing him- 
self on a Xerox machine." 

. 

The show must go on: Services were 
held recently in Los Angeles for an 81- 
year-old woman who was not present at 
her own funeral. The hearse containing 
her body was stolen on the way to the 
cemetery, but the woman's relatives, 
apprised by the mortuary of the theft, 
decided to go ahead with the services 
anyway. 


H 
Reporting a new world endurance rec- 
ord for continuous hand dapping, the 
Las Vegas Sun ran this misleading head- 
line: “FOUR GIRLS SET NEW CLAP MAR 


PLAYBOY'S 
HALL OF 
FLEETING FAME 


Voted in for unparalleled stupidity, 
a West German man who called 
birth-control pills a swindle because, 
though he took them for seven years, 
his wife had had six children. When 
told by doctors that the pill was for 
women, the man said: “But the direc- 
tions on the box don't say that." 


THE WORST EE MOST UNUSUAL 


C ation has 
always cele- 
brated man's greatest 
works—greatest 
paintings, greatest 
scenes in literature, 
greatest statements— 
but man’s worst 
efforts and stupidest 
ideas have gone un- 
recognized. In an at- 
tempt to rectify this 
situation, we bring 
you a sampling from 
the book Best, Worst, 
and Most Unusual 
(Crowell), by Bruce 
Felton and Mark 
Fowler. 


WORST DRAWING: Le 

Remède, by Watteau, which depicts a 
reclining Venus about to receive an en- 
ema administered byher chambermaid. 


worst тоу: In 1968, a Japanese firm 
introduced a toy atomic bomb that 
flashes, bangs and emits a cloud of 
real smoke. 


WORST SCIENTIFIC PROJECT: J. V. 
Walker, a National Health officer in 
England, has suggested that research- 
ers develop a pill that will postpone 
puberty until alter students complete 
college. 


MOST UNUSUAL GENERAL: General Rich- 
ard S. Ewell, who fought gallantly for 
the Confederacy at Winchester and 
Gettysburg, sometimes  ballucinated 
that he was a bird. For hours at a 
time, he would sit in his tent softly 
chirping to himself and at mealtimes, 
he would accept only sunflower seeds 
or a few grains of wheat. 


WORST ACT OF DIPLOMACY: During the 
Middle East war of 1948, Warren 
Austin, then U.S, Ambassador to 
the UN, urged Arabs and Jews to re- 
solve their disagreements “like good 
Christians." 


MOST UNUSUAL STOLEN BASE: Germany 
Schaefer, an infielder for the Pi 
burgh Pirates and other National 
League clubs from 1901 to 1918, once 
reached second base on a double and 
then proceeded to steal first. He did 
it, he later said, to confuse the pitcher. 


MOST UNUSUAL SHAKESPEAREAN PRO- 
puction: Patients at the Orthodox 
Jewish Menorah Home and Hospital 
for the Aged and Infirm of New York 
produced and staged Macbeth, or а 
sonable facsimile thereof, in 1964. 
Sample dialog: Lany мАСВЕТН: Did Y 
do bad? 1 wanted my husband to be a 
somebody. Macnern: A king I hed 


to be? A fifteen-room 
kessel vasn't good 
enough for you? 


WORST PAINTINGS: Ап 
unnamed Dutch 
artist depicted the 
sacrifice of Isaac with 
Abraham holding a 
loaded blunderbuss to 
his son's head. The 
German artist Berlin 
painted a Madon- 
na and Child with the 
subjects being sere- 
naded by a violinist. 
In a Last Supper 
scene painted by a 
French artist, the 
table has been sct 
with cigar lighters. 
Another Frenchman painted Adam 
and Eve in Eden, figleafed and inno- 
cent, with a fully dressed hunter near- 
by pursuing ducks with a shotgun. 


MOST UNUSUAL ABORTION TECHNIQUE: 
As late as the early years of the 20th 
Century, it was traditional for a Mos- 
lem peasant woman in upper Egypt to 
terminate an unwanted pregnancy by 
lying face down on the railroad tracks 
nd allowing the next scheduled train 
to pass over her. 


The worst streak 
two naked students 
parachuted from a rented Cessna 182 
over the University of Georgia cam- 
pus. Blown off target, one landed in 
the playground of a married students’ 
housing complex and the other 
touched down in a cesspool. 


WORST STREAKERS: 
occurred when 


MOST UNUSUAL EROGENOUS ZONE: AC- 
cording to Freud, the human nose 
contains tissue that becomes erect 
п sexually stimulated. 


MOST UNUSUAL SUICIDE: A Shrewsbury 
Englishman, William С. Hall, ended 
it all in 1971 by boring cight holes in 
his head with an elecuic drill. 


MOST UNUSUAL OATH: Since the Ro- 
had no Bibles on which to swear, 
it was the custom to place one's right 
hand on one's testicles when swearing 
to tell the truth. The English word 
testimony is derived from this practice. 


WORST RHYMESTER: The Reverend 
William Cook of Salem, Massachu- 
setts, who during the 19th Century 
wrote Indian Corn, which is found 
in a booklet of poems titled Talk 
About Indians, published in 1873, 
and has a charm all its own 


Corn, corn, sweet Indian corn, 
Greenly you grew long ago. 
Indian fields well to adorn, 
And to parch or grind hah-ho! 


The All-Together Separate-Lees— From the people who brought you the Leesure Suit comes the Separate Lees Suit™ 
a tastefully tailored ensemble composed of jacket (about $40), vest and jeans (each about $18). All Lee-Set™ 
10076 cotton to resist wrinkling, shrinking and puckering. And all designed to subtly inter-change with other 
Separate-Lees to create looks to suit the occasion or your mood. The added touch: A Lee "Sultan Stripe" shirt (about 
$16). The Lee Company. 640 Fifth Avenue, New York 10019. (212) 765-4215. I Ў 


A company of V corporation 


20 


MOVIES 


ack'seye view of Fun 
City, Taxi Drive plants 
Robert De Niro behind the 
wheel of a cab and sends him 
olt on a downbeat guided tour 
of the lower depths inhabited 
by pimps, hustlers and other 
fierce nocturnal predator: 
This is no joy ride. In fact, 
compared with Taxi Driver's 
horrific journey through Man- 
„ Midnight Cowboy was 
оп a merrygo-round. 
tin (Mean Streets 
and Alice Doesn't Live Here 
Any More) Scorsese is a street- 
wise New York native who 
paints the town in garish 
neon. Although Taxi Driver 
is very well done up to a 
point, the only sensible rea- 
son for making—or sitting 
through—a movie so crammed 
full of bad vibes is the hyp- 
notic performance by De Niro. 
Cast as a desperate, lonely in- 
somniac who drives by night, 
he's like a tortured Dostoicv- 
sky character cruising the flesh- 
pits around Times Square— 
bitter at having, as he complains at one 
point, to “clean the cum off the back 
of his taxi. He himself strikes out 
with women and is flatly spurned by a 
golden girl who becomes the object of his 
obsessions while going about her business 
a political campaign worker (Cybill 
Shepherd performs well enough in an- 
other of those suow-queen roles she seems 
destined to play till hell freezes over). 
More isolated than ever, De Niro's psy- 
cabby assembles a cache of deadly 
weapons, undertakes a Spartan program 
of physical fitness and, in ng himself 
surrounded by enemies, decides that soon- 
er or later he will have to kill someone. 
De Niro, teo smart an actor to milk pathos 


in a plea for audience sympathy, plays 


this perennial loser straight in a clinically 
precise portrait that's about as heart- 
ming as a home movie starring Lee 
Harvey Oswald or James Earl Ray. 
Among the friends and foes within firing 

veteran 
cabby called W ‘card; Jodie Foster, a pre- 
cocious tecny-bopper actress who plays a 
12-and-a-hall-ycar-old hustler with unnery- 
ing aplomb; Harvey Keitel, as her sewer- 
mouthed pimp; and former CDS-TV film 
critic Leonard Harris, in a passable act- 
ing debut as a Р 1 candidate 
who's clearly one of an endangered species 
(we won't dwell on the possible motiva- 
tions for casting a critic as a target). After 
a cool and well-sustained build-up to its 
grisly climax, Taxi Driver takes a couple 
of hairpin turns into serious trouble. 
Scorsese and scenarist Paul Schrader leave 


'sidenti 


Tortured Taxi Driver. 


“Nudie Musical bounces along 
with the nose-thumbing 
impudence of a varsity show.” 


Bright, bawdy Musical. 


the story with a screw loose, finally sug: 
gesting that there’s nothing like a good 
old catharsis of murderous violence to 
bring a psycho to his senses. A doubtful 
premise for a movie aspiring to make 
the big time and just missing it. 
б 

Too тапу recent movies have nothing 

shining brightly buta couple of hard-pressed 


young stars. As a case in point, 
Susan Sarandon and Beau 
Bridges lavish a lot of talent 
upon Dragonfly, an improbable 
love story about a small-town 
boy who comes home from a 
mental hospital and тїс to 
reconstruct his troubled past. 
Beau, of course, plays the an- 
guished youth, with Susan as 
a straightforward, unwaver- 
ingly loyal candy clerk he picks 
up at the local movichouse, She 
knows he's not the kind of fel 
who could have murdered hi: 
mother, yet people say he did 
and he is subject to sporadic 
fits of violence. If Bridges and 
Sarandon make some of this 
treacle ring tue, even give it 
a touch of poignancy, more 
credit accrues to them than 
to producer-director Gilbert 
Cats or to playwright N. 
ага Nash. 
D 

A chorus line of busty Holly- 

wood hopefuls wearing noth 


ing but flowered bonnets and 
Ruby Keeler tap shoes sets 
the pace of The First Nudie Musical, an R- 


ted. parody that brings welcome comic 
relief to the tired old world of porno. 
Bruce Kimmel, a West Coast upstart 
who has obviously seen every movie 
Mel Brooks ever made, even looks a 
bit like Brooks—but color him blue. 
As writer, codirector, songwriter and 
top banana of First Nudie Musical, Kim- 
mel lets his protean talents hang loose, 
playing the schlemiel nephew whose 
uncle invests enough bread to buy the 
bagelbrain his Big Chance to direct a 
movie. It's a porno musical conceived by 
a young hustler n ту (Stephen 
Nathan) who doesn't want his dad to 
know that the great Hollywood studio he 
founded, now seedy and shambling, has 
been kept out of bankruptcy for years by 
grinding out hard-core quickies. Come, 
Come Now is Harry's title for the sex 
epic in song that’s supposed to save the 
family store, though his auditions for 
fresh young talent “that can screw and 
сапу a tunc" seem to attract deep- 
throaty types whose showbiz, experience 
can be summed up with: “fellatio, straight 
fucking . . . and some minor bestiality 

The joke is stretched too lar and the 
humor ranges from semipro to flagrantly 
sophomoric, yet Nudie Musical bounces 
along with the nose-thumbing impudence 
of a varsity show—as it might have been 
done if tits and ass had been allowable in 
Hollywood's corny college musicals of 
yore. Cindy Williams (one of American 
Graffiti's brighter ingénues) plays Harry’s 
loyal, loving secretary, who has to take 


Ride the Honda Rapid Transit. 
Downtown. Or out of town. 


It's private transportation the public loves. Because 
weekdays this XL-350 on/off-road Honda seems so virtu- 
ous. Commuting reliably. Sipping gas. But with enough 
power to let you double-up. i real white hat. 4 

Weekends it likes to play dirty! And this 
year off-road handling feels lighter (thanks to 
new steering geometry) and works harder sm 
(new longer-travel suspension). The en- ff { 
gine is stronger, too. And the old one is 
still the only bike engine ever to — e 
win the Baja 1000, overall. 


Your Honda dealer has XL's - s - Rapid Dirt Transit demands 

from 70 to 350cc. Each with two ы- =й КДА, long-travel shocks (adjust- 
ersonalities at no extra cost. BEA able), tucked up-pipe. 
inda like you... 7 7 flexible plastic fen- 
7] à £ < » МА. ders to help hide 

When you swap your guitar : ‘ Wm scratches, steel 

and bedroll DUNS В skid plate. 


For a businessman's 

leather case, 
There's still an XL for you 
To brighten your Monday face. 


First. For good reason. 


© 


‘Always wear a helmet and eye protechon, 
keep lights on and chech local laws belore 
Tiding Model availabilty may be limited 
For free brochure. write American Honda 
Motor Co. Inc. Dept. AJ. Box 50. Gardena 
Caliorna 90247. Printed in USA 

1975 AHM. 


Rapid City Transit needs four- 
stroke power and quietness, 
passenger pegs and grab strap, 
Honda reliability, enough wheel- 
base and trail for street stability. 


PLAYBOY 


22 


over the leading role when he fires his 
star. Smilin’ through that schmaliz as if 
she'd never heard of smut, Cindy brings 
an air of straightforward innocence to the 
whole show, even when she joins Nathan 
for a deadpan art-deco homage to Ginger 
Rogers, Fred Astaire and probably Busby 
Berkeley, ап up-tempoed duet about the 
joys of oral sex (“Let ’em eat cake . . . and 
let me eat уои"). The slapstick Dancing 
Dildos number is another high point о! 
bawdy liule comedy that flaunts its deca- 
dence like a teenager bobbing around in 
а SOCK ТГ To ME T-shirt. 
. 

A whole new set of film prizes must 
be invented to single out the very special 
attributes of Gable end Lombard, an over- 
blown biography about the idolized Holly- 
wood couple whose fans won't recog! 
them here. But moving right along with 
our awards: To producer Harry Korshak 
and director Sidney J. Furie, a tarnished 
Gold Albatross—for sheer chuizpah; it 
took crass opportunism as well as unflag. 
ging bad taste to disinter all the smuttiest 
gossip about two late great stars wlio are 
no longer around to defend themselves— 
and who would have, with a punch in the 
Kisser. To James Brolin as Clark Gable, 
Actor award—for turning The 

Klutz, an impersonation ap- 
sed on extensive research in 
a мах museum, To Jill Clayburgh as 
Carole Lombard, a Most Miscast Actress 
consolation prize—tor a futile effort that 
insiders swear is meant to be Maureen 
Stapleton as а summer-stock apprentice 
imitating Jean Arthur. To Allen Gar- 
field as МСМ tycoon Louis B. Mayer, а 
Purple Heartwarmer—for a good actor 
bravely fighting hopeless odds. To Barry 
Sandler, author of the screenplay, an 
Obscene Oscar—for peddling the year's 
outstanding example of R-rated pornog- 
raphy; with special mention for the scene 
in which Lombard gives Gable a hand- 
knitted cock sock ("Maybe you'll grow 
nto it") and a nod for the fi stab of 
pathos, when Gable tearfully tells one of 
Lombard's favorite dirty jokes in a wib- 
ute to what's left of her at the plane-crash 
To Universal Pictures, the people 
who brought us Jaws, a critical harpoon— 
for biting off a Hollywood legend that's 
considerably more than they can chew. 

б 

А blizzard in the Austrian Alps, we're 

told, delayed the shooting of Crime and 


а Least 


turkey, in which Omar Shari and. Karen 
Black co-star, or cosulfer—he as a nervous 


bad news, she as a girlfriend who mar- 
ries an international business tycoon to 
bail Omar out of а jam. Too bad she 
couldn't have bailed both of them out 
of the movie—in advance. 
. 

Well, they've finally made Nixon's 

downfailintoa movie. “All the President's 


Men" (based on the book by Carl Bern- 
stein апа Bob Woodward, serialized in 
PLAYBOY, May and June, 1974) has just 
been released. With Dustin Hoffman 
and Robert Redford, respectively, play- 
ing the two journalists, the movie is sup- 
posed to have a larger advance booking 
than “Jaws.” Redford, as usual, is keep- 
ing a low profile off the screen, but we 
thought it might be interesting to check 
in with him and see how he feels about 
the movie (he owns a large percentage 
of the rights) and about politics. So we 
asked Larry Dubois, who conducted our 


Redford (& Hoffman) to the rescue. 


December 1974 “Playboy Interview” with 
Redford, to try to reach him. by tele- 
phone. After several days, DuBois finally 
succeeded. 
PLAYBOY: 
you? 
REDFORD: The Great Redford's fading. 
You're a hard man to get in 


"The Great Redford. How are 


REDFORD: Thats true. I'm a hard т 
to get in touch with for myself. 
PLAYBOY: You pleased with the mov 
REDFORD; I've worked harder on this 
than on anything I've ever been involved 
with, so I'm the wrong person to ask. It 
could never be good enough to satisfy 
me. But it's pretty close to the film I 
wanted to makc. 


ап 


PLAYBOY: You said before you started the 
picture that it going to be about 
journalism, not Watergate. 


REDFORD: It's really about both. It's about 
the two reporters and their relationship 
while they get this particular story. But 
you also learn something about report- 
ing. the newspaper business and p 
ticularly The Washington Post. 

PLAYBOY: Aren't big-money boys—and, 


in this case, that includes you—afraid 
the public doesn’t want to hear апу то 
bout Watergate? 

nEDrORD: On the contrary. People are so 
anxious to talk about it that th ^ 
wait to see it before they tell everybody 
what they think it is. I've already heard 
everything from stories that it’s the gr 
est movie ever made to stories about how 
we just put Butch Cassidy and the Su 
dance Kid) into the newsroom. And I 
heard them before we started to make it! 
ptaynoy: The obvious question: After all 
your research, who do you think is Deep 
“Throat? 


REDFORD: 1 


don't know. Since 1 stopped 
„ l feel bewer. In the film, 
i cter of his 
nd that entire portion has taken 
on a kind of dignity to me that would 
be sort of violated by knowing who he 
was. I really don't give a shit who he was. 
PLAYBOY: How did Bernstein and Wood- 
ward hold wp under the pressures of 
being celebrities portrayed in a bi 
movic? 

REDFORD: About as well as the cavalry 
held up against Indian attacks, Г@ say 


we 


they came through it fine 
PLAYBOY: 


What was filmi 


REDFORD: Washington was sticky. The 
crowds weren't used to seeing movies 
hington's paranoia about 

араш, so it was like be- 


microscope. We also тап 


a lot of problems with the people 
in the Ford Administration. They gave 


us а lot of permits to shoot i 
like Ron Ziegler's old office and 


celed them. I was lobbying at the time 
st the guy they wanted to appoint 
as Secretary of the Interior, and I don't 
ink that helped. I can't say for sure the 
two were connected, but our paranoi 
rampant as theirs. 

PLAYBOY: How did the local politi 
react? 

REDFORD: The ones who were liber 
Democrats thought the whole movie was 
just a wonderful idea. | was quick to 
point out to some of them that it could 
just as easily have gone the other wa 
at least as far as the dirty tricks went. 
1 don't think the Democrats could have 
managed the depth and dimension of it 
without someone like Dick Nixon, 
who had his own unique fabric as 
character. But this is not a film about 
how great the Democrats are. I think 
both parties are full of it. I like to thin 
this film transcends partisanship and be 
comes an embarrassment to our system. 
Interestingly. the Republicans were ultra 
cool. They said. "Absolutely, this film 
should be made." Then they didn't di 
cuss it further. 

PLAYBOY: What sort of reactions did you 
get from members of the press? 

REDFORD: A lot of them were very helpful. 
I interviewed many of them, from Dan 


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PLAYBOY 


24 


Rather d John Chancellor to the 
investigative staff at The Boston Globe. 
1 spent some time with Mary McGrory. 
who couldn't have been better. She had 
only one piece of advice: “Don't get 
cheeky with this, Robert.” And Seymour 
. Seymour "The Animal" Hersh. 
tery a room talking and he leaves 
He was terrific, gave us а lot of 
ge insight. But I also learned a lot 
about the Washington press corps and 
how confusing and ting it is when 
they've finished with a rumor in the bars 
night and it comes back to you the 
next morning magnified threefold. I can 
tell you, too. that I was glad to get out 
from under the eye of The Washington 
Post and its people's ambivalence about 
their image. It was driving us nuts. 
PLAYROY: The one question tha 

been answered adequately is what the 
hell G. Gordon Liddy and those other 
guys were actually doing in the Water- 
gate that n What’s the best answer 
you Gime up with 
REDFORD: It was just Nixon's bureaucracy 
gone amuck. Nixon was very sporis- 
oriented and military-oriented, having 
been good at either, and he enjoyed 
concocting games to play as if they were 
war. By the time his paranoia got 
passed down through the ranks to those 
poor Cuban-Americans and those second- 
rate spies and burglars, why, my God, 
you couldn't believe the bunch of fuck 
ups who ended up in Larry O'Brien's 
office. They didn't know what they were 
doing. They weren't bright. They weren't 
good. They were in there just really kind 
of fucking up. waiting to get caught. 
1. the guy across the street 
d Johnson's carrying the walkie 
talkie, had the ic. When it 


hast 


REDFORD: No. Fm just as angry, just as 
sick at heart. Thank God for Watergate, 
but tli bubble in the stream. If 
e going to get Reagan or Ford 
ainst Humphrey, then it’s been noth- 
ing more than a little entertainment 
piece. I hope this film demonstrates that. 
FLAYBOY: What are you going to do, now 
that the movie's finished? 

neprorn. Ski and just get back into some 
life pleasures, like working on my new 
home, which is going to be powered by 
solar energy. We've got to do things 1 
that if we're going to counter the in- 
nity of the Government's creating these 
programs for nuclear and synthetic fuels. 


All that means is that they're creating 


programs they're going to use our money 
to subsidize. Bullshit. Just bullshit. 


Pp: is served 
up sizzling in 


Honeypie, a four- 
course sexual 
snack that starts 
out with a dopey 
premise—drami 
tizing the letters 
to the editor of a 
lewd pulp mag 
zine (Screw pub- 
lisher AlGoldste 
playing himself, 
wallows through 
the crass editor's 
role). The indi- 
vidual episodes, 
however, are some- 
thing else. For 


Honeypie: Mom's apple it's not. 


bedful of well- 
dowed but over- 
worked New York 
porno gypsies 
whose faces are 
becoming as famil 

ır as their Mab. 

. 

The world of 
Walter Mitty be 
comes a pornogra- 
phers dream in 
Fantasex, — thereby 
iving the film a 
gimmick to set it 
apart from 
usual run-of-the- 
mill raunch. Trip- 


the 


SJM freaks, there's 
a bondage se- 
quence so sus- 
tained and h 
that queasier types 
may prefer to go 
out for a smoke, 
There's а dre: 
soft-focus seduc- 


at mi 


“The humor of Fantasex ain't 


гу Thurber, of course, but it's 
a mischievous and spirited try 


ng prurience with parody.” 


ping out with a 
plain Jane (Terri 
Hall, again!) and 
a shy would-be 
stud named Ber- 
nard (played by 
Jeffrey Hurst, por 
nos current chal- 
lenger to the 


on scene between 
a virginal boy and am older 
(with the aggressive lady played 
by Jennifer Welles, onetime exotic d: 
а sultry veteran of Minsky's Bur- 
lesque). There's spirited lesbian action, 
with a dance teacher (Sharon Thorpe) 
giving afterhours lessons in love to а 
ripe and willing ballerina (Serena. billed 
as а Oui calendar girl). To top all, per- 
aps as a special attraction lor novelty 
seekers, there's Terri Hall (star of Gerard 
Damiano's The Story of Joanna) perlorm- 
ndy-amt bi 


houscw 


both entering her vagi 
Honeypic is not good film making by any 
standard. But it’s good filmed fucking, 
б 

Terri Hall (with а fancy new пате, 
ional Velvet) comes back for more in 
the title role of Farewell Scarlet, which mis 
hard-core with homicide and tries to spice 
it with some sophisticated comedy as 
well. Not very sophisticated. In fact, the 
choicest line is from а character named 
Connie Columnist, who ask 
mous gay cowboy is 
fastest gums in the West?" ls ma 
about a celebrated party girl found dead 
at an orgy with a giant dildo down her 
throat. A private dick (sic) known 
Dexter Sleuth vows to find out whodunit, 
and learns—through numerous fash- 
backs—that practically everyone has done 
it with Scarlet. The question is: Who 
cares? Maybe only the performers, a 


indefat 
Harry Reems) is the game her 
intoverts employed by 
а venomous smut publisher who badgi 
them to keep churning out filth while 
their minds sc into loftier 
erotic r-core’s male 
oriented tradition, Ве dreams of 
high potency prevail gines him. 
self as a ruthless rapist. a vengeful gypsy. 
a motorcycle jock, ringmaster of a sex 
circus or a iiverboi bler geuing 
imed lady. The humor 
of course, but it's a rel 
ed try 
mixing outright prurience with parody 
«Land Jane's drollest bit is a spoof 
of the classic Tabu perfume ad, in which 
Victorian lady 
io without pause 
1 dandy has his way with 
side of Sodom. 


is а resolu 


pla 
while а rake 


her 


1 every sex act thy 
. 

Through a slick job of counterfcitin 

а hard-core comedy titled Her Family Jewels 


may almost pass lor the real thing. The 
film's distributors hate to say so, but 
Jewels is actually à piece of porno paste 


that used to be called The Sex Th 
solt-core, mediocre British bedroom farce 


his more-th The 
British were d 
not really, so 
stand-ins were hired to hump in earnest 
Tor а series of film inserts. Let's hope this 
brand of disembodied porno by proxy 
isn’t the beginning of a trend. It’s tough 
nough nowadays for an actor to hear his 
voice dubbed by someone else. 


is that you can whip along 
at speeds up to 60 miles 
an hour, And that's where 

_ the danger lies! 


C., DETROIT, MICH. 86.8 


"Its virtually impossible 
to keep your careening 
стай on astraight and 
steady course. We were 
just at the point of 
capsizing... 


“...when I shouted to Jim, 
‘Throw your weight on 
my side! Defying gravity 
and the gusting winds, 
we managed to get 
upright. From then on, 

it was smooth sailing. 


"Later, we toasted our adventure with Canadian Club 
atthe Hotel El Presidente in San Quintin." 

Why is C.C. so universally popular? No other whisky 
tastes quite like it. Lighter than Scotch, smoother 
than vodka. . .it has a consistent mellowness that 
never stops pleasing. For 117 years, 

this Canadian has been in a class by itself. 


CET 
Koan 9a 


26 


BOOKS 


[Lorie having problems keeping a 
sense of historical perspecti 


Every time (probably starting 
later today) some politician or celebrity 
comes on the tube to tell solemnly 
as possible, about one or another of the 
republic's past glories or heroic leaders, 
just picture good old Gore Vidal. look- 
ing cool and aristocratic, a 
on his face. poised sl 
with... a pie in his hand. (7Hello. I'm 
Ronald Rea Plop!) Vidal's 1876 
(Random Howse) is subter than a pie 
but. no less cheerfully devastating 10 the 
notion that American history can be hon- 
csdy looked at with a'straight face. 
Especially not by Mr. Charles Schermer- 
hori Schuyler, the novel's narrator 
created by Vidal as the illegitimate son 
of Aaron Burr—who mingles freely with 

motley gang of real historical. charac- 
ters. including robber barons, sucialites, 
President Grant and Mark Twain. 
Schuyler is an aging and elegant jour- 
nalist who separates himself from poverty 
nostly by traveling, with his much- 
soughtafier daughter, in the highest 
social and political circles—and by writ- 
ticles that keep him welcome there. 
n intimate of the rich in New York 
I the powerful in Washington, Schuy- 
is in а position to record for us the 
centennial Presidential election of 1876 
and how things really worked. Pretty 


big grin 
Шу offcamera 


п 


his a 
ion of his 


ticles the 
enemies— 
nt needed а special prosecutor worse 
Richard Nixon did—keeps to him- 
self the wrongdoing and pretensions of 
his friends and allies and is vastly amused 
y both. As you, too, will be. 
. 

Whether you love pro football or hate 
it, or have somehow managed t0 remain 
indifferent to it but enjoy the study of 
uniquely American forms of madness, 
you'll appreciate The Nightmare Season ( Ran- 
dom House), by Arnold J. Mandell. For- 


massive 


get that it’s spring and football is out 
of the news: this is both the most enter- 
taining and the most troubling book 


cn about A п sports in a long 
The first hall is as funny as George 
mpton’s Paper Lion and the last half, 
about the N.F. Ls power to crush. and 
then “rehabili one of its best men's 
i 5 more like Darkness 
at Noon. Mandell is the psychiatrist who 
got a good deal of publicity a couple of 
cars ago when the lowly San Di 
Chargers asked him to spend a season 
with the team to see if a shrink could 
help it win games. 
sportswriters had a lot of fun wi 
one. At first, Mandell was reluctant to 


1876: cheerfully devastating. 


“Picture good old Gore Vidal, 
iig grin on his face, 
poised slightly offcamera 
with... a pi his hand. 


Nightmare Season: troubling. 


Trinity: Sure an’ it's blatherin’. 


get involved with a discipline so alien 
to his own, but Harland Svare, the 
Chargers coach who was for years one 
of the game's premier defensive backs, 
quickly charmed Mandell into going 
along. Svare had Mandell seeing himself 
as "Sigmund Freud in shoulder pad 
The Chargers start the season with hi 
hopes, but aft 
team's — persona 
+ is literally fighting for his life (in 

fying scene, a sàng of drunken 
10 turn over his car as he and 
his wife leave the stadium) and Mandell 
decides that it’s all “pornography. Ugli- 
ness everywhere 1 looked. Т entered the 
game of football thinking I'd be iis Bos- 


a half dozen losses, the 
ed, 


has disintegi 


well; Га wind up being its Nader." It's 
all downhill from there. By Ше end, 


Mandell is explicitly ch 
zelle and the N.F.L. with tactics а 
nicks patterned along Watergate 1 
But belore the finale, there lots of 
terrific stories about the game, the play- 
ers. the drugs. the orgies. the pressures 
and the psychological bates for man- 
hood on and off the field. Mandell tells 
them with а dry wit, a psychiatrist's 
his and an eye and car for the scene 


ng Pete Ro- 
1 


that no ex-player—and по journalist ex- 
cept Plimpton—has brought to it. 
. 
Charles Starkweather's пате doesn't 


pack the w 
As a murdes 


lop it did 10 or 15 years ago. 
т, he's been upstaged B 
other berserkers: Whiunan, Speck, Man- 
son. But in 1958, Starkweather d his 
H-ycar-old girlfriend, Caril Fugate, went 
on an cightday rampage from Nebrask: 
10 Wyoming that left ten people shot or 
stabbed to death. In Starkweather: A Chron- 
icle of Mass Murder in the Fifties (Houghton 
Millin), William Allen uses interviews, 
trial records and contemporary news ac- 
counts to reconstruct those events of 18 
years by bloody hour. The 
story had a Bonnie and Clyde flavor—a 
young boy and girl on a wild death wip: 
it also had. and still has, а good deal of 
mystery, What exactly was it that sud- 
denly transformed Starkweather from 
ordinary loser into sadistic butcher? Was 
Caril his willing 
still claims, his panicstricken. captive? 
Allen. reports the well-established 


go. hou 


plice or, as she 


ог ight, lea 
puzzle himself. 
of the pieces 


tunately, too many 
re missing. 
. 

There seems to be no stopping Leon 
Uris in his literary crusade to free the 
downtrodden. First, in a line of novels 
following Battle Cry, it was the Jews 
as they slugged it out with the Arabs on 
the sunscared slopes and wadies of the 
Middle East. Now—for a change of 


PLAYBOY 


28 


в taste. 
We found a way to bottle it. 


pr APPOINTHENT то HER MAJESTY т 
SWINE MERCHANTS.” "= QU 
JUSTERII а. BROOKS LTD. 

и ST JAMES 5 STREET, LONDON. ENGLAND. 


AND TO HIS LATE ROYAL HIGHNESS 
THE PRINCE OF WALES (1921-1936) 


QUART PRODUCT OF SCOTLAND  & PROG 
WAITED BY THE PADDINGTON CORPORATION, NEW ТОК. 0 


For more than 225 years, the House of Justerini & Brooks has 
been one of London's leading wine and spirit merchants 
And for the past nine successive reigns, J & B has earned 
the Royal Warrant. An achievement which makes J & B Very RARE 
rare scotch indeed. 


86 Proof Blended Scotch Whisky € 1976 Paddington Corp., N.Y. 


climate but not of pace—he reloads his 
righteous typewriter, rushes to the isle of 
saints and sages and, in Trinity (Double: 
day). ted phrase in support of 
the Irish in their 700-year battle ainst 
the bootjacks and gibbets of British op 
pression. Unsparing of himself or of the 
reader, Uris doggedly pursues his ете 
from 1885, when Charles Stewart Parnell 
was the darlin’ of the Irish parliamen: 
tarians (until opponents exposed his 
adulterous affair with Kitty. O'Shea), to 
the Easter Rising of 1916, which eventu. 
ly divided the island. Uris’ hero, Conor 
Larkin, is the maudlin apotheosis of the 
romantic Wordsworthian ideal: a simple 


ises а st 


husbandman with the mind of a Socrates. 
Ireland will endure, Uris assures us, Free- 
men will endure as long as noble souls 
k the land. В 


can а reader endure 513 pages of blather? 


such as Conor Larkin wa n 


I's difficult to cell whether Tom Mc- 
Hale's School Spirit (Doubleday) is an 
attempt to be Thomas Pynchon or Fyodor 
Dostoievsky. Whichever. he doesn’t man- 
age it, in spite of such ingredients as a 
blizzard, during which a high school 
student is locked. by his classmates into a 
meat freezer 


exposure, 


nd there expires from over- 


ad а string quartet of octoge- 
natians who sport switchblade stilettos 
built into their instruments. The enormous 
cast of characters indudes the 68-year-old 
ex-coach of St. Anselm's football team and 
his former players, some of whom he 
believes are guilty of the murder by meat 
locker of one Ste 
an unpopular boy, to put it kindly 
Twenty-three уешх after the death, the 
coach sets off Irom the Mojave Desert ou 
a Ulysses trip to bring to tisk the entire 
crew. This whole tapestry is filigreed with 
gs and Hashing, bloodthirsty fe 
males cager lor male gonads to 
from their belts, like some mad tribe gone 


Lloyd Kasprzak— 


amazing 


amuck in artdeco literary. hangout. 
Even less likely: The dead Kasprzik had 
been adopted by a couple composed of a 
homosexual male pederast who had vio 
lated the boy and an alcoholic mother 
who had contented hersell with despising 
him and loving his queer and also adopt 
ed sc 


ibrother. Take some advice: There 


are enol horrors out there without 
MeHale’s book 


. 

Throughout his career, James Purdy 
has amazed his readers by alternate! 
producing novels that are mı 


of tradition and novels that are so wild 


terpieces 


they seem to foam ar the mind. Purdy 
doesn't have a style: he has two styles. 
cach as impressive as the other. His ex- 
crases in American Gothic, such as The 
Nephew. are masterfully plotted and 
filled with real talk. His surreal binges, 
such as Cabot Wright Begins (about a 
pist who leaves hundreds of women 


satisfied) and / Am Elijah Thrush (about 


d 


low did Dodge Colt 
putso much 
in sucha little car? 


Reclining bucket seats 


i Flow-through ventilation 
Tinted glass 
Я Adjustable steering iet 
Carpetin column evolutionary |. 
i d wies Silent ShaftEngine* 
Bumper guards — optional 


front and rear 


۱ 37 MPG highway, 24 MPG city OE 
5-speed transmission EPA estimates* ЫЧ Б 
Front disc brakes 


Introducing the '76 Dodge Colt Carousel (left) and Colt GT (right. With five-speed 
manual transmissions and 1600 cc engines they both got 37 MPG on the highway, 
24 MPG in the city. And Colts come in three other models, too: Coupe, 4-door Sedan 
and 4-door Wagon. Prices start at $3,175. (Base sticker price for a 1976 Colt Coupe. 
~ Not including taxes, destination charges, license and title fees and Optional equipment. 
California prices slightly higher.) 


“Silent Shaft available only with — **EPA estimates for 1976 Dodge Colt GT and Carousel with 
optional 2000cc engine. Carousel 1600 cc engine and manual transmission, Your actual DX] 
model with Silent Shaft Engine — - mileage may differ depending on how and where you drive, 


| requires optional automatic the condition of your car and its optional equipment. In HRYSLER 
ETT transmission. California see ybur dealer for mileage data. CORPORATION 


PLAYBOY 


30 


an octogenarian pederast mime), are per- 
verse and brilliantly excessive. But in his 
latest novel, In a Shallow Grave (Arbor), 
Purdy melds raving mania with tradition 
mastered. Garnet Montrose is a young 
Southern veteran who has returned gro- 
tesquely disfigured from a war. As the 
tale begins, you are immersed in the 
manners and morals of the Old South, 
‘The war from which Garnet has returned 
must, you decide, be the Spanish-Amer- 
ican. Many pages later, words slap you 
awake. Dig occurs as an interrogative. 
Rock refers to a kind of music. Suddenly, 
you realize the author has pulled off a 
bit of magic: The war was in Vietnam. 
In Shallow Grave, Purdy etches with pain- 
ful authenticity a culture in its agony. 
P 

Irving Wallace sat in his expensively 
appointed den. He looked at the leather- 
framed desk calendar on his richly pol- 
ished table and said silently, "Nineteen- 
seventy-six. The Bicentennial. Time for 
my moral-ourage-tteroding-civil-liberties 
novel beginning with the word the” 
Quickly, he reached for his thesaurus. 
He found the word Brobdingnagian 
and gathered blustering, braying and 
being around it in the same sentence. 
He searched through the tightly sealed 
drawers of his mind for some original 
characters, but, as always, they were 
empty. So he rounded up an evil FBI 
director and paired him with a loyal 
associate and friend. Next, he added 
an archconservative President who'd go 
10 any lengths to preserve law and order 
and, finally, a tall, brilliant. Attorney 
General. With а lightning-fast touch, he 
chose a setting, sometime in the near fu- 
ture. Crime runs rampant. А new con- 
stitutional amendment, the 35th, needs 
ratification by one more state, California, 
to become law. The amendment would 
suspend the Bill of Rights in order to stop 
crime. The evil FBI director pulls all the 
strings and stops at nothing to get it 
passed so he cin control the country. The 
tall, brilliant A.G. defends the proposed 
amendment on а TV talk show, then goes 
backstage and throws up. Now he knows 
what side he's on. Will he be able to 
rescue the country? Can he pet the cru- 
t exposes the director's per- 
Can he get to a vital lunch 
with California legislators ime? Once 
there, will he order beef Wellington ог 
tournedos Rossini? Wallace answered 
these questions and many, many more. 
Finally, he reached for a last sheet of 
paper and typed The R Document (Simon 
X Schuster). He switched off his gleaming 
metal typewriter. The night was bright 
and the moon was full. The phone rang 
nd then it rang again. His maid said, 
hey're both for you. Literary Guild is 
оп one line and a major motion-picture 
producer is on the other." Wallace sank 
back in his thick, soft leather chair and 
felt the friendly, familiar tide of big bucks 
sweeping over him once again. 


TELEVISION 


he movie world 

has never proved 
lucky for F. Scott Fitz 
gerald. Even The 
Great Gatsby, last time 
out, did litle to re- 
verse the tradition tl 
films, Fitzgerald 
failure were an ill- 
fated threesome. Right 
now, some West Coast 
optimists are well into 
a movie (starring Rob- 
ert De Niro) based on 
The Last Tycoon, the 
fine unfinished novel 
about Hollywood tl 
Fitzgerald died belie 
ing would signal his 
comeback. To date, 
though, his best bet 
would scem to be a 
two-hour TV special, 
F. Scott Fitzgerald in Holly- 
woed, that will be aired 
by ABC Theater on 
Sunday, May 16 (9-11 
т.м, ED.T). A real 
winner on the bitter subject of hard los- 
ing, this film for television has author- 
actor Jason Miller in the title role 
opposite Tuesday Weld as Zelda, wi 
Julia ioster playing gossip columnist 
She aham—who had a semise 
affair with Fitzgerald at the fi 1 end 
of his life and later got a book out of it 
(two books in fact: The Real F. Scott 
Fitzgerald just hit the shelves). 

Following a preview of Fitzgerald in 
Hollywood, we decided to check it out 
with Graham herself, who proved ame- 
nable, as always, to chatting over the 
phone. 

1 think this program's the one good 
ing that's ever been done about Scott 
Fitzgerald in any medium,” she told us. 
"None of the other things about Scott 
ever touched me at all. Beloved In- 
fidel, as a film, left me cold as ice; I 
couldn't rclate to it. Gregory Peck was 
completely wrong and Deborah Kerr, 
playing me, was too finished a product, 
too sure of herself . . . and much too 
thin! You could see her bones in a swi 
suit. No one his ever seen my bones. 
That film was made in 1959, and the 
person I would have chosen to play Shei- 
lah Graham was Marilyn Monroe. I 
begged them to give her the part, but 
Jerry Wald said no. 

“The here, Julia Foster, isn't quite 
like me, either. Yet I came to believe in 
her. I had doubts at first about. Miller, 
though he's such a good actor, with the 
same square, solid. physique. Only Scott 
was shorter, more amusing and more 
fun somehow . . . when he wasn't drink- 
ing. And Tuesday Weld gives a fantastic 


“The best presentation, 
so far, of Fitzgerald. 
Almost too real . 

end, | was crying very u 
hard."—Sheilah Graham 


performance as Zelda. 
She almost makes it her 
picture. There's no 
question this is Ше best 
presentation, so fi 
of Fitzgerald. Almost 
too real, too good. I 
couldn't bear it at the 
end, I was crying very 
hard... 7 
Barring the tears, we 
can second 
most of Gra 
ham's remar 
F. Scott Fitz- 
gerald in Holly- 
wood focuses on the 
ycars 1937-1940, the 
time of Fitzgerald's 
final futile eflorts to 
make it as a film writer, 
countering that agony 
with flashbacks to his 
iumphant arrival in 
“Lotus land” in 1927, 
when he and Zelda 
jazzed around in а 
kind of mad childish 
desperation that even Hollywood found 
excessive: One wiped-out night, they 
rive at a dressy party on hands and 
knees, barking like dogs, then collect 
every purse and wrist watch on the pren 
ises and’gleefully boil them. Directed by 
Anthony (The Missiles of October) Page 
from an im ive, freely structured 
script by James Costigan, the show oper 
and closes, with conscious irony, on 
shots of Fitzgerald's grotesquely painted 
face—first, in preparation for а silly 
screen test he takes at the urging of a 
dumb-blonde starlet; finally, laid out i 
macabre cosmetic splendor at a mort 
The years between are depicted 
series of low notes from the swan song 
of a brilliant but self-destructive genius, 
who is aesthetically D.O.A. in the deluxe 
factory town that his pal Dorothy Parker 
(played with a fine cutting edge by Do- 
lores Sutton) calls “the biggest collect 
of simian mentalities this side of the 
Bronx Zoo." In his best performance 
to date, Miller, perhaps projecting his 
own writer's cramps through Fitzgerald. 
flinches at every blow as if he'd been 
there himself. Foster's sympathetic por- 
yal of the doggedly loyal mistress 
ought to boost her professional stock, 
too, but Graham pegged it right when 
she singled out Tuesday Weld. Giddy, 
strung out, possessed by demons, Tuesday 
seems to find a perfect emotional outlet 
for her often misspent talent in the tor- 
tured Zelda. Fitzgerald in Hollywood 
is good enough as a literate high-level 
tearjerker. But whenever Weld comes 
shimmying on, seemingly disintegrating 
before your eyes, it's a wiumph 


. atthe 


©1976 R. J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. 


Y 


inston Box fits more а 
than my PN | 


Warning las Determined 
angerous to Your Health. 


32 


n Second Childhood (Colum- 

bia), Phoche Snow seems 
more at ease with herself, both 
musically and personally. than on 
her first album; paradoxically, this 
new mellowness has transformed 
itself into greater musical energy. 
The album brims over with a 
buoyant, swingy charm that takes 
the sting and heavyheartedness 
out of such songs as her own In- 
spired Insanity and All Over or 
Holland /Dozier/Holland’s Goin’ 
Down for the Third Time. She 
also demonstrates a greater will- 
ingness to work in various jazz 
idioms, onc result of which is a 
gorgeous big-band version of ће 
rshwins There's a Boat That's 
Leavin’ Soon for New York. 

. 

Speaking of which, it's been more 
than 40 years since Porgy and Bess had its 
Broadway debut and 19 years since Beth- 
Ichem Records issued its jazz version of 
the landmark folk opera fashioned by the 
Gershwin brothers and DuBose Heyward, 
from the latter's book. Well, the Bethle- 
hem label has been resurrected, as has the 
three-LP album, and it proves that age 
cannot wither, etc. The album treats the 
show as a sequential entity, with disc 
jockey Al "Jazzbo" Collins providing the 
narrative links between songs. We don't 
remember Collins broadcasting voice, but 
the one he uses on this album is rough- 
edged, almost amateurish, and proves dis- 
tracting sandwiched between some of the 
glittering performances. The vocal stars 
are Mel Tormé as Porgy and Frances Fa 
as Bess (you can tell which is which be- 
cause she's the one who sings louder) 
"The Duke Ellington orchestra appears for 
a lush rendition of Summertime, but the 
rest of the vocal and instrumental scoring 
was ably handled by Russ Garcia, who 
some interesting people under his wing— 
Johnny Hartman as Crown, comed 
impressionist. George Kirby surprisingly 
od as Sportin’ Lile, Betty Roche, who's 
marvelous as Clara, a very young 
Blaire as Serena and, in addition to the 
Ellington band, such fine instrumentalists 
as Howard McGhee, Don Fagerquist, 


n- 


Frank Rosolino (who also sings the role 
of Jake, 
Holman, 


and that was a mistake), ВШ 
Herbie Mann and Maynard 
among others. But it's Tormé 
^ who carry the load and their 
duets are Bess, You Is My 
Woman Now and I Loves You, Porgy 
(titled 7 Want to Stay Here on the album) 
as good as anything you'll hear 
around. All in all, there are far more hits 
misses and Tormé and Fa 
the price of admission. Welcome back, 
Mel and Frances and Bess and Porgy. 


sensational. 


are 


e worth 


Snow's Second Childhood swings. 


“Paradoxically, Phoebe's new 
mellowness has transformed itself 
into greater musical energy.” 


Mandrill's sounds are dynamite. 


A lotta people are talking about 
punk rock these days. It’s the new 
word and people who read Ver- 
laine and Rimbaud are going 
around pretending to be punks. 
But they are no more punks than 
a suburban kid in bib overalls is 
a farmer. If you're looking for real 
punks, you should check out Black 
Oak Arkansas, because this is a 
group that gets back to the roots. 
And the roots of rock 'n' roll lie 
in a darkened high school gym 
with a white backboard just visible 
in the shadows behind the stage. 
Everybody is there to boogie. No- 
body's looking for any existential 
illumination, just for a chance to 
get it on. Black Oak Arkansas is 
a group that can do it for you. 
Its latest is an album called Livet 
Mutha (Atco), which includes long stretches 
of heartfelt audience appreciation, The 
group opens up with a revival of the 
classic Jim Dandy and everything that 
follows is in the same spirit: harddriving, 
loud, emotional, simple, mindless rock 'n* 
roll, Just like we've always loved it. OF 
course, the words do make some mean- 
ingful statements, and if you turn the 
machine way up and get right next to the 
speakers, you can almost make them out. 


Although it hasn't yet earned as much 
fame as Earth, Wind & Fire, Kool & the 
Gang or the Ohio Players, Mandrill is 
every bit as good. In fact, over the past 
several years, it's been consistently turn- 
ing out some of the best electric rock- 
soul-Third World music around and 
acquiring not-too-visible following 
that’s loyal and surprisingly numerous. 
You can mark us down as members of the 
tribe, which will surely increase as a re- 
sult of Beast from the East (United Artists), 
a set of dynamite sounds that includes 
some of the heaviest funk we've heard in 
a while (Ratchet), some nice jazz and 
Latin jazz (Aqua-Magic, Panama), some 
nice hustle music (Disco Lypso) aud even 
a nice ballad (Love Is Happiness). This 
group gets a lot of meaning out of a few 
words and its instrumental work is simply 
tops 


E 

Friends of ours who play music say that. 
the profesionals tend to fall into two 
categories: those who are too young to 
know 


who are 
too old to enjoy it. I's a nicesounding 
theory—but then there's Clark Terry. He 
always mixes good vibes with his virtuoso 
trumpetwork and Clerk Terry and His Jolly 
Giants (Vanguard) is no exception, as 
Clark and some nottoo-well-known 
companists sail through ten lively num- 
bers, including some vintage bebop 
(Parker's The Hymn, Monk's Straight No 


what to do and those 


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


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PLAYBOY 


34 


A new 35mm SLR camera 
is shaking up the whole camera industry. 
Why? 

Because it's smaller, lighter and 
quieter than any other 35mm SLR. 
And yet... 
you see more in the viewfinder! 


Writers in photographic magazines 
ali overthe world welcomed the new 
Olympus OM-1 camera. Because 
they knew that many photographers 
were getting tired of 35mm cameras 
that were too heavy, too big and 

too noisy. 

Olympus reduced both the size 
and the weight of a35mm SLR 
camera by 35%. And by using a 
special air damper, reduced the 
noise level considerably. 

All this without sacrificing quality 
and precision. In fact the viewfinder 
is 70% brighter and 30% larger than 
comparable cameras. 

By reducing size and weight 
Olympus made it possible for many 


OLYMPUS OM-1 
The experts call it “incredible” 


Morketed exclusively in the U.S.A.by Ponder &Best, Inc. 
treet, Sonto Morico, Colifornia 90406 


Corporote Offices: 1630 Stewort 


photographers to take their cameras 
with them instead of leaving them at 
home. Andthe camera wasdesigned 
зо even the casual photographer 
could get consistently superior 
pictures. But it'salso part of a huge 
system of over 200 accessories, 
So asyou get more serious, the OM-1 
grows with you 

See what all the excitement is 
about. Visit your Olympus dealer. 
Feelthe camera, look through 
the viewfinder, check out the acces- 
sories. If you don't think this is the 
most important development in 
serious photography in many a year, 
then the whole photographic 
industry is wrong! 


fm 12 ovseos - Ei 


Chaser), a couple of tunes that aren't 
normally thought of as jazz (Grofés On 
¢ Trail and the Flintstones theme). plus 
^r, a comic scat vocal in the inimitable 
Terry style—at the end of which he 
asserts that you've just gotten sounder 
philosophy than you could from Schopen- 
hauer, Kierkegaard, Nostradamus or Ar- 
chie Moore. Which may not be true but 
shows you that Clark Terry is hip to a 
few things besides trumpet playing. Not 
of course, that his trumpet. playing isn't 
enough to tell you that 
А 
Americans traditionally mock the 18th 
Century British soldier for his habit of 
marching to his death, in step, acros a 
battlefield as if he wer across 
a dance floor. But after hearing Music from 
the Sound Track of Borry Lyndon (Warner 
Bros), we figure the redcoats were so 
taken with the sound of file and drum 
that they didn’t even hear the crack of a 
musket. The album contains two stirring 
fife-anddrum British 
diers and Lilliburlero, and we recommend 
them for upon your 
Colonial. Also fun are the selections by 
The Chieftains, a superb group of Irish 
musicians who play traditional Irish song: 
the way other men brawl 
Their version of Pipers Maggot Jig un 
coils like harpoon rope, while the soft 
and delicate Women of Ireland puts the 
girls right inside your head. Side two heaves 
bosom against the weight of Schubert 
andel, Vivaldi and Bach. Without th 
film to remind you of what's happening, it's 
a rather somber introduction to the classics. 
. 
с Hayes goes back to what he's best 
— composing and атап 
Connection (ABC), and the result is an 
album that transcends its intended limita 
tions: It’s a disco LP that you can sit and 
actually listen to, over and over. Hayes, 
who ran his “Black Moses" act into the 
ground, neither sings nor raps—whieh he 
used to do ad nauseam—on this outing 
Instead, he leads а karge but light-fingered 
orchestra through a variety. of luminous 
musical visions, induding the thoughtful 
chord patterns of St. Thomas Square and 
After Five (the latter sounds like one of 
Wes Montgomery's late mood pieces); the 
funky Choppers, which seems 10 be an 
pt to find out how many musical 
on top of onc riff (quite 


sclections, Grena- 


advancing favorite 


with gusto. 


g—on Disco 


parts can be h 
a few in Hayes's case, since his ideas are 
so uncluttered); the rolling Disco Shuffle, 
which is more blues than hustle: and the 
tile mne, which uses some unusual 
sounds, both percussive and elecuic, 10 
humorous effect. Meantime, his new vocal 
album, Groove-e-Thon (ABC), contains one 
nner—the sultry Rock Me Easy Baby— 
and several romantic ballads that prov 
once again, that Hayes's voice is no match 
for his orchestral persona, nor is he as 
good with words as he is with sound. 


White rum and soda 


Find your own private pleasure. 


While others are doing such 
expected things as mixing their club 
soda with gin or vodka, you can be 
mixing with white rum, for a wonder- 
fully unexpected experience. 

White rum and soda is atingling 
combination of sparkling efferves- 
cence and silvery smooth rum. 

It's one pleasure the crowd 
doesn't know about yet. After all, 
crowds don't make discoveries. 
Individuals do. 

One of the things you'll discover 
about white rum from Puerto Rico 
is its smoothness 


For tree party booklet wite: Puerto Ri 


ums, Dept. P-21, 1290 Ave 


Mix your club soda with white rum from Puerto Rico. 


Decidedly smoother than gin or 
vodka. The reason? Every drop is 
required by law to age for at least 
a year. No wonder 84% of the rum 
sold in the United States comes from 
Puerto Rico. 

White rum is enormously socia- 
ble. It doesn’t confine its favors to 
club soda alone. It smooths out 
every drink from the screwdriver 
to the martini 

Follow your own taste to white 
rum from Puerto Rico. > 
Let the crowd follow you 

PUERTO RICAN RUMS 


1976 


PLAYBOY 


36 


The mid-engine makes 


it unique. 


. Butthe price makes 
it exceptional. 


The Fiat X1⁄%. 4,947 


There are only seven mid-engine cars in the 
world today. 

All come with things like rack-and-pinion steering, 
radial tires, four-wheel disc brakes, and fully independent 
suspensions. 

All feature the remarkable kind of handling mid- 
enginecars have become famous for. 

And all will go much faster than local law enforce- 
ment officials would care for you to find out. 

But in spite of all the remarkable similarities 
between the cars, we wouldn't feel fair if we didn't point 
out some of their subtle differences. 

A Maserati Bora, for example, will run you about 
$26,000 overand above the cost of the Fiat X1/9. 


*1976 Manufacturer's suggested retail price POE. Inland transportation, dealer preparation and loc: 
overseas delivery arranged through your participating deale 


A Lamborghini Uracco will run you about $20,000 
more. 

Anda Ferrari Dino has to look like a bargain at 
only $18,000 more. 

The fact is, the Fiat X1/9 costs thousands of dollars 
less than the nearest priced mid-engine car. 

Of course, no two mid-engined carsare the same. 
And the X1/9 is no Maserati Bora or Ferrari Dino. 

But fora difference of 15 or 20 thousand dollars, 


what do you want, twins? 


ГЕ JAITA 


Alotof car. Not a lot of money. 


axes additional. Car rental, leasing, and 


THE PLAYBOY ADVISOR 


year-old college senior who 
l time mixing in public—at 
dances, parties or in bars. The problem 
is that I can’t bear small talk. I tend to 
һе overcome with awkwardness and nerv- 
ous energy. I'll just stand there, looking 
t a girl who attracts me, asking myself, 
is it worth the risk? Surely you can sug- 
gest a strategy to sce me through such 
situations. How do you pick up girls— 
A. H., Geneseo, New York. 

By the scruff of the neck, with our 
teeth. Seriously, you shouldn’t knock 
small talk. It is one way to convert nero- 
ous energy into constructive energy. 
Intimacy is composed of myriad tiny acts 
and exchanges of information, not a 
single all-encompassing confession. How 
to begin? Well, we like Minnesota Fats's 
advice on how to play winning pool: 
Always take the easy shots first. You 
should be aware from the beginning of 
an encounter what there is about the 
other person that attracts you, (She is not 
a guy. She is not dead.) Don't be afraid 
to communicate—either verbally or non- 
verbally—what you find special about 
her or about yourself being with her. 
("Gee, 1 love your cellulite deposits.” 
“Can you really chug twelve Harvey 
Wallbangers in a тош?") Stop thinking 
in terms of risk. You have nothing to 
lose but your loneliness. Paying respects 
to another person never cost anything 
and if you're lucky, your initial invest- 
ment will carn her interest. 


О.. of my friends just returned from 
Paris. He reports that in addition to kiss- 
ing in cars and on main streets, young 
Parisians have taken to ordering chilled 
red beaujolais. This practice goes against 
everything I've been taught about proper 
wine service. Surely, the French can’t be 
desecrating one of their most delightful 
products.—F. W., Laramie, Wyoming. 

There is no law against chilling a red 
wine, unless it happens to be a 1929 Chá- 
teau Lafite-Rothschild (an offense that 
makes us seriously reconsider our position 
on capital punishment). Actually, the 
young Parisians have hit upon a nice 
change, and it scems to be catching on in 
the United Statcs. Beaujolais and some 
not-so-dry Burgundies have a slight fruity 
taste that is enhanced by chilling. (In 
contrast, a dry red wine will become dricr 
when it comes in from the cold.) One 
hissing cousin explained the discovery 
as follows: Paris is love. Love is blind. 
Therefore, color doesn't matter as long 
as it keeps you cool. C'est la vin. 


М. doubt by now you've caught the 
turday-night television show that fea- 


tures а weekend 
one you're not. 1 


ws wrap-up by some- 
y be mistaken, but 


's my impression that the bit always 
begins with a subtle reference to sex. 
‘The camera zooms in on the newscaster, 


catching him in the middle of an ob- 
scene phone call to his w. 
Angela. At least I think it's obscene. On 
one show, he talking about. whether 
or not a truck. driver who passed them 
on the highway thought she 
a nap in his lap. That went over my 
head. On another show, he made refer- 
ence to the differences between the butter- 
fly kiss and the butterfly flick. (Is it true 
love if she uses false eyelashes?) One line 
still bothers me; to wit, the not-quite- 
ready-for-prime-time conversation in 
which he said, “What I don't understand 
* As а master 
a, can d answer the 
does yank out the 
beads?—J. R., Chevy Chase, Maryland. 

Somcone who knows you very well— 
usually, but not always, the same person 
who inserted them. 


question? Who 


AA ист saving for many years, 1 was 
finally able to purchase а high-perform- 
псе sports car, a Corvette. Two months 
later, it was broken into and driven oll. 
The thief used an auto-body tool to re- 
move the ignition lock on the steering 
column and even managed to locate a 
cutoff. switch that I had hidden under 
the dash. Eventually, the car was found 
and returned, much the worse for wear. 
I want to prevent a recurrence. A police 
man I talked to said that a real profes- 
sional would never be deterred by an 
alarm system, since whatever technology 


was available to me would also be avail- 
able to the thief. He said that the prob- 
lem was compounded by the type of с 
I drove—tl there were more Corvettes 
stolen cach year than the total number 
egistered in the state. The thieves must 
be standi d in line, What do you sug- 
gest? ‚ Illinois. 
here is no foolproof system. Remou- 
ing а vital part (distributor cap) when- 
ever you leave the car may help. In many 
cities, that service is provided free, any- 
way. Our resident paranoid suggesis a 
subtle approach copped from Sherlock 
Holmes. Install the cutoff switch in an 
obvious place, disguised as one of the 
regular or dummy switches on the dash- 
board. Also, a coil cutoff switch is pref- 
erable to an ignition cutoff. The engine 
will turn over, but no juice will reach 
the spark plugs. Unlike certain car me- 
chanics we know, if a thief does his 
thing and nothing happens, he will 
look until he finds the trouble. Gas- 
line cutoffs ave less than successful 
for that reason. If there is a discrepancy 
between the fuel gauge and the car's be- 
havior, he'll check it out. The policeman's 
low opinion of alarm systems that just 
make a noise is also justified —most 
people will simply ignore a car with a 
siven blasting. Alarm systems that hook 
up to a small radio transmitter (which ac- 
tivales a beeper in your shirt pocket) ате 
only slightly better—by the time you get 
down from the 95th floor of your high- 
rise, the thief will be long gone. 
pert, having seen “Death Wish” 300 times, 
has another suggestion. Needless to say, it's 
illegal. Rig a charge of plastic explosive 
to your car before you leave. If a profes- 
sional gets past all of your defense sys- 
tems, you'll Lose your car, but there will 
be one less professional running around. 
Of course, if you forget to unhook it. . . . 


Over the past few years, masturbation 
has become an accepted practice: It's 
fun, healthy and psychologically normal, 
as long as you don’t get kinky about it 
and tie yourself up first. But now I think 
we've made too much of a good thing. 
The ubiquitous vibrator has created a 
nation of sexual isolationists. Remember 
the old ethical quetion: If you could 
connect yourself to an infinite pleasure 
ne, would you ever unplug? My 
acquired one of those vi- 
attachments. It pro- 
duces an instant, powerful, never-ending 
orgasm that is awesome to behold. ‘The 
climax she gets from her new toy is ob- 
ously better than the one she gets from 
me. I'm afraid that she's becoming ad- 
dicted to the ecstasy. She says comparisons 
are out of the question. Her orgasms are 


37 


PLAYBOY 


38 


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her business and her responsibility, not 
mine. She then quotes the Gospel accord- 
ing to Betty Dodson that a woman who 
gets in touch with her own sexual re- 
sponse will learn what she likes and will 
thus be in a better position to tell some- 
onc else what turns her on. So what do 
you do when she learns that she doesn't 
need any “someone else? Swallow a 
couple of batteries and hum? My 
fri е her new friend, за 


and go to sleep afterward.—M. F., Los 
Angeles, California. 

The Mad Dog Art and Ordnance Wor 
of Evanston, Illinois, has plans for a vi- 
brator that will do just that. It will also 
smoke a cigarette and when the girl pulls 
on a string, a recorded voice will say 
things like “1 love you," or “Take that, 
you bitch,” or “Your insight into the phe- 
nomenological implications of the silver- 
ware-and-madcleine imagery in the first 
volume of Proust’s ‘A la Recherche du 
Temps Pevdu’ is unparalleled in the his- 
tory of Western. Civilization.” Seriously, 
now, although it may be hard to accept, 
the women's lib belief in "to each his or 
her own” makes a lot of sense. If you al- 
low her orgasm to become the only defi- 
nition of your adequacy as a male, then 
you'll be in big trouble. You jeel good 
when she has them, guilty when she 
doesn’t and worse when she has them with 
someone or something else. T here's more 
10 sex than climaxes. What happens be- 
tween humans is a softer, more varied 
relationship involving things like bust, 
surprise, communication and sharing. 
Have her use her toy while you arc mak- 
ing love and you'll get off on the good 
vibrations, too. If you still can't cope with 
the damn thing, find a vibrator virgin and 
move to the country where there's no elec- 
tricity and they don't sell batteries. 


МІ, boytriena 


natural-clothes freak 


ctically lives in 
in sweater that 
is woven from the wool of sheep that 
stand in 200 inches of rain cach year. 
Pretty dumb sheep, but Mother 2 
provides their wool with a high lanolin 
content that makes the sweater more 
water repellent. Now we are in the mar- 
ket for down vests to wear while back- 
packing in the Rockies. My boyfrie 
insists that the best down comes from 
northern geese, because they ar 
n te. True? The labels I've 
examined have confusing adjectives such 
as AA Goose Down, Prime Silver Goose 
Down, Red Chinese Goose Down, Bull 
Goose Looney Goose Down, James 
Brown Git Down, etc. In short, nothing 
indicating the weather conditions at the 
source. How does one tell northern goose 
down from southern goose down?—Miss 
L. R., Chicago, Illinois. 

By its accent? Your boyfriend is correct 
in assuming that a goose that has lived 


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


16 то. “tar.” 1.0 mg. nicotine, 
ау. per cigarette, FTC Report Nov. 75 


PLAYBOY 


40 


"Dear 
American Tourister: 


И we land" 
Richard Kane, Conn. 


ета 


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DAMEFICAN TOURISTER: WARREN, RI 


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in an area that is cold will develop a 
down with strong fibers, a betier cluster 
(the quality that. prevents matting) and 
a higher lanolin content. But unless his 
tailor is ап environmental expert with a 
relative in the Arctic Circle, he might as 
well forget his quest for genuine north- 
ern goose down. Manufacturers oblain 
their down from brokers who do not 
specify where it was obtained. To qualify 
as goose down, the material must achieve 
a loft (displacement) of 550 cubic inches 
per ounce (the greater the loft, the better 
the insulation). Other than that, all labels 
are pure invention and do not reflect the 
quality of the material. Besides, factors 
such as construction, type of nylon shell 
and design are as important as do 
characteristics. Buy only from reputable 
dealers who guarantee their products for 
a specific temperature and time. 


Bhave been married for three years. My 
wile and I have a very good sex life. 
Recently, 1 developed an urge to photo- 
graph her in the nude or wearing some 
very seductive outfit. She agreed 1o pose: 
we have had several shootings. The list 
time in front of the camera, she really 
put her heart into it. She tried various 
positions that accented her body, such as 
ollering her breasts to the camera, touch- 
ing heiself intimately. ‘Tremendous. 
However, since then, she has pleaded 
with me to tear up the pictures, saying 
“That's just not me. What if someone 
broke into the house and found them? 
I really enjoyed taking those pictures. I 
get turned on looking at them and would 
like to continue photographing her. But 
1 don't want to upset her. Should 1 tear 
them up? How can I persuade her that 
they're not dirty?—W. D., Dallas, Texas. 

If they're not her, then they must be 
someone else, in which case you'd better 
offer to destroy the photographs before 
she starts divorce proceedings. Her con 
cem strikes us as а bit unrealistic— 
women who pose for PLAYBOY ате proud 
of the photographs; at least they aren't 
worried about people breaking into new 
stands and stealing copies of our ma, 
azine. Try to convince her that the 
photographs are a tribute to her beauty 
and that they are not meant as evidence, 
Of course, a compromise position might 
be to tear up the photographs (memories 
make OK souvenirs) and [or her to keep 
posing until you shoot something that she 
likes. Then blow it up and hang it on 
the bedroom wall. 


Help: à am in an incredible bind with 
my stereo system. The problem lies with 
my reel-to-reel tape recorder: Whenever 
1 play a tape, or whenever the monitor 
select switch is on tare, I pick up the 
of a local rad'o station. What can 
1 do?—T. S$., Olympia, Washington 

The problem. you are experiencing is 
vare but not unknown. The tape head is 
acting as a miniature radio receiver. The 


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THE NATURAL TASTE OF MEAD 
REDISCOVERED 


N THE FIFTH 
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THE DRINK OF THE 
ANGLO, SAXON AND 
JUTE INVADERS: 

A potent, zesty 
and natural spirit touched 
with pleasant overtones of 
honey, herbs and spices. 

Yet, even before its 
arrival in Britain, man had 
an unquenchable thirst for 
thenatural taste of mead. 

It had marched 
with Romes’ legions. 

Ridden with 
Hannibal across the Alps. 

Was the Viking's 

"Drink of the Gods” 

And the legendary 
cup of Beowulf. 

Then, unaccount- 
ably, the legendary taste 
became “a legend lost? 

Lost for centuries. 


Until, many years 
ago, a legendary Gaelic 
Chieftains seven hundred 
year old recipe for the 
essence of mead passed 
into our hands. 

The result is 
Irish Mist. 

Truly, it is “the 
natural taste of mead, 
rediscovered.’ 


You'll find it com- 
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imported liqueur. 

Try it after dinner. 

Or on-the-rocks. 

It is neither sweet 
and sticky. 

Nor is it strong 


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Imported Irish Mist. 

Rediscover it. 


IRISH MIST: THE LEGENDARY SPIRIT OF MAN 


recommended cure (after cleaning and de- 
gaussing the head) is better shielding 
around the head and[or a more secure 
ground connection. Try running а 
ground wire from the tape-deck chassis to 
the holding screw on a convenient wall 
outlet. In severe cases, it has been neces- 
sary to go into the tape circuit and add 
critical value capacitators to low-level 
amplification stages. Write to the manu- 
facturer for specific recommendations. 


ed attempts, my 
to perform fel- 
ially en- 
she finds the act 


L GUILTY. 
bothered by her pi 
as the old uli Respect me, re- 
spect my inhibitions. What should I 
do2—P. G, Portland, Oregon- 

Look Jor someone wearing a button 
that announces 1 JUSF SAID YES AND I 
DONT FEEL GUILTY. Or unbutton the girl 
you already know: Talking is an incred- 
ibly persuasive Jorm of oral sex. Try to 
create an atmosphere of trust in which 
she can shed her images of “foul fellatio.” 
Inhibitions melt in the mind, not in the 
mouth. (I doesn’t hurt to practice what 
you preach, either. Do onto others as 
you would have them do onto you.) 
There is nothing inherently distasteful 
about oral sex, provided you ате clean 
and relatively healthy. If she is bothered 
by the flavor, have her try an erotic hors 
d'oeuvre: artichokes. No kidding. Scien- 
lists at Yale found that eating artichokes 
improves the flavor of whatever follows. 
Dowsing the old swizzle stick in brandy 
or a flavored liqueur will also help. (Why 
not try artichoke liqueur?) Also, suggest 
an aggressive approach to fellatio—if 
the orgasm occurs far enough back in the 
throat, it will completely bypass the taste 
buds. She won't notice a thing, but you 
will. Yes, indeed. Aggressiveness and prac- 
lice ave a great cure for reluctance of any 
kind. The move you do something in 
sex, the looser you gel, the more inven- 
live, Ihe more comfortable and, in gen- 
eral, the more willing to (y it again. 
Full speed ahead. 


АЙ reasonable questions—from fash- 
ion, food and drink, sterco and sporis 
cars to dating dilemmas, laste and eti- 
queltte—will be personally answered if the 
writer includes a stamped, self-addressed 
envelope. Send all letters to The Playboy 
Advisor, Playboy Building, 919 N. Michi- 
gan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611. The 
most provocative, pertinent queries will 
be presented on these pages each month. 


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41 


PIONEER HAS 
DEVELOPED 
A RECEIVER EVEN 
THE COMPETITION WILL 
ADMIT IS THE BEST. 


One look at the new Pioneer SX-1250, and even the 
most partisan engineers at Marantz, Kenwood, 
Sansui or any other receiver company will have to 
face the fact 

There isn't another stereo receiver in the world 
today that comes close to it. And there isnt likely 
to be one for some time to come. 
In effect, these makers of high-performance 
receivers have already 

conceded the superiority 
of the SX- 1250. 
Just by publishing the 
specifications of their 
own top models. 
As the chart shows, 
when our best is com- 
pared with their best 
theres no comparison. 

То begin with, the 
SX-1250 is at least 28% 
more powerful than any 
other receiver ever made. Its power output is rated 
at 160 watts per channel minimum RMS at 8 ohms 
from 20 to 20.000 Hz, with no more than 0.1% total 
harmonic distortion. 

And, for critical listening, no amount of power 
is too much. You need all you can buy. 

To maintain this huge power output, the 
5Х-1250 has a power supply section unlike any 
other receivers, with a large toroidal-core 
transformer and four giant 22.000-microfarad 
electrolytic capacitors. 

But power isnt the only area in which the 
SX-1250 excels. The preamplifier circuit has an 
unheard-of phono overload level of half a volt 
(500 mV). This means that no magnetic cartridge in 
the world can drive the preamp to the point where 
it sounds strained or hard. And the equalization for 
the RIAA recording curve is accurate within 


*0.2 dB. A figure unsurpassed by the costliest 
separate preamplifiers. 

Turn the tuning knob of the SX-1250, and 
you'll know at once that the AM/FM tuner section 
is also special. The tuning mechanism feels 
astonishingly smooth. precise and solid. 

FM reception is loud and clear even on weak 
FM stations because the tuner combines extremely 
high sensitivity with 
highly effective rejection 


оѓ spur 
Of course, the 
Pioneer SX-1250 carries 


a price tag commensu- 
rate with its position at 
the top. Butif you seek 
perfection you wont 
mind paying the price. 

If, on the other 
hand, youd mind, look 
into the new Pioneer 
SX-1050 or SX-950. Theyre rated at 120 and 85 
watts, respectively, per channel (under the same 
conditions as the SX-1250) and their design is very 
similar. In the case of the SX-1050, virtually 
identical. 

That means you dont just come to Pioneer for 
the world’s best. 

You also come to us for the next best. 


For informational purposes only, ће 5 Х-1250 is priced under 
5900. The actual resale price will be set 
by the individual Pioneer dealer at his option. 


Q PIONEER 


Anyone can 
hear the difference. 


U.S. Pioneer Electronics Corp., 75 Oxford Drive, Moonachie, New Jersey 07074. 


PIONEER | MARANTZ | KENWOOD | SANSUI 
SX-1250 2325 Кө 9090 
Oboe | rewanréw | 125%+125У/ | 120%--120%у | t0W-Hi0W 
DEHN OC 0.1% 0.15% СХ 02% 
DANS 500 mV 100mV 210mV 200 mV 
PIONÓ/AUX/MIC эл Wino 2A/mixing | 1/1/mbing 
TAPEMON/DUPL. 2yes 2iyes yes 2e 
‘Twin Tone: BesMid Û Base Mid- Bass- Mid- 
TONE 
| de Treble Treble “Treble 
| TONE DEFEAT Yes | Y il Yes | Үе 
SPEAKERS АВС AB АВС | ABC 
gen L5uV 18V | 1w LuV 
SELECTIVITY 90 dB 80 dB | san 8548 
CAPTURE RATIO [rr 12548 | 1зав 1.548 


PLAYBOY 


Decisions...decisions... 
Make your decision 


Pall Mall 
Gold 1005 


Good rich flavor, 
HALLEY amine bese 

selling short 
(70 mm.) 


Not too strong 
not too light 
not too long 
tastes just right. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined 
That Cigarette Smoking 15 Dangerous to Your Health. 


THE PLAYBOY FORUM 


a continuing dialog on 


contemporary issues between playboy and its readers 


HOCUS-POCUS 

In carrying on a debate with Hugo 
Carl Koch (The Playboy Forum, Febru- 
ary) and who believe, as he does, 
that abortion is immoral and should be 
illegal, The Playboy Forum has done a 
remarkable job of presenting the case for 
a woman's right to abortion. You've iden- 
tified the central questions and handled 
them with sound logic and accurate facts. 
And you've avoided the ive, emotion 
al tone that often mars the rhetoric on 
both sides. 

Koch seems to be more сі 
mest foes of abortion: He doc 
accuse abortionists of mu 
he just implies that’s what they do. I 
imagine he is appalled by PLAYBOY'S as- 
sertion that the question of whether or 
not abortion is moral ought to be left 
to the woman herself. Koch is obviously 
a prisoner of the authoritarian menial- 
ity. This mentality believes, in effect, 

woman is not qualified to have 
ions of her own. She must be told 
at's wrong by 
elite group of males who h th 
lives study 
logical lore. These religious leaders, in 
clim to derive their authority 
from their intimate knowledge of the 
teachings of Jesus and other great reli- 
jous teachers. It’s all pure hocus-pocus 
nd, thank goodness, every year fewer 
people are taken in by it. 

James Adams 
Detroit, Michigan. 


r 


ng the complexities оГ theo- 


REMEDY FOR RAPE 
Donna Lombardi's letter in the Janu- 
y Playboy Forum describing the hid- 
cous reality of rape is all too true. Men 
indulge themselves in the notion that 
women secretly want to be raped; but 
at the ime, they claim the right to 
t legal and social position 
alleged protectors. I'd say it's 
г women to take on the job of 
g themselves, ГА like to see cv- 
in the U.S. сату a Saturds 
night special and, if attacked by a rapist, 
blow the son of a bitch away. 

Name withheld by request) 
Sausalito, California 


THE SMALL VAGINA 

Many leners in The Playboy Forum 
deal with the size of the male sex organs 
“The smallness of my own vagina, however, 
has been us problem for me. Most 
of the men with whom ГА had sex, includ 
ing my husband, had been what I'd call 


average in size. With all of them, I had 
never really been comfortable and even 
had experienced some degree of pain. 
Then, just by chance, I happened to 
end up in bed with a very dear man, 
what a delightful surprise! He had a 
small, slender penis and I found that 
with him I could really enjoy sex. I wish 
men who are overendowed would stop 


“My husband and I love 
oral play and we have 
a trick that may help 
those who haven’t been 

able to get into it.” 


bragging about it and that men who think 


they're small would realize that some 
women preler it that w; 
(Name withheld by request) 


Wayne, New Jersey 

I's true that some women have un- 
usually small vaginas, but because of the 
vagina’s adaptability, even a woman with 
a small vagina can be comfortable when 
penetrated by almost any size penis. 
When а woman consistently feels pain on 
penetration, it's often due to a condition 
such as vaginal inflammation, a spasmodic 
contraction of the vagina or a partially 
intact hymen. А small, thin penis would 


feel better to a woman suffering from any 
oj these, but a checkup by a gynecologist 
might open awhole new world for her. 


POSITIVE THINKING 
I don't know how important penis size 
is, but I know € to think you've 
got a big thing. When I was young and 
traveling around the country а lot, I 
used to go to bed often with prostitutes. 
Invariably, when I took down my pants, 
ach one would make a remark about the 
size of my cock, something on the orde 
of, “Gee, you've got a big one,” or, “I 
hope 1 can take th Go easy, 
honey, 'cause youre really built big. 
I've since come to realize that my six- 
acher is about average, and 1 suppose 
the remarks were a d line of flat- 
tery these women were wont to hand their 
customers, 1 don't object at all, though: 
i made me feel like a real man 
and made the expe 
more enjoyable. 
(Name withheld by request) 
Bakersfield, California 


A TASTE OF HONEY 
Some people have a problem with oral 
sex. They nt to try but childhood 
taining in our oversanitized | cultu 
makes them re to put their 
mouths anywhere near other people's 
genitals, My husband and I love oral play 
id we have a trick that may help those 
who haven't been able to get into it. We 
warm up about a half cup of pure, sweet 
honey, which my husband pours оп my 
pussy. Then he licks me 
that, I take the r g honey and pour 
it over his prick. For both of us, the taste of 
honey mixed with love's juices is delicious. 
(Name withheld by request) 
St. Cloud, Minnesota 
Sounds terrific, but what have you got 
Jor folks on a diet? 


PICKUP IN A PICKUP 

I'm happy to share my first experience 
of intercour suggested by a letter 
January Playboy Forum. Some 
king is necessary, though. About 
year and a half before I lost my virgin- 
ity. Fd developed serious doubts about 
y masculinity because of something that 
had happened when I was 16. 1 was kid- 
ped and forced, knife at my throat, to 
give my kidnaper a blow job. 1 wasn't dis 
gusted, t I should be, but 
ther did I enjoy it. The man was doped 
up on something or other and drove very 
poorly and about a half hour after he had 


in the 


kt 


45 


PLAYBOY 


46 


kidnaped me. the police signaled him to 
pull over. He pushed me out of the car, 
aked and tied up with my own clothes, 
to the path of the police car, which 
screeched to a halt a few fect from my 
head, and then he vanished into the night, 
trailed by pistol fire. Very melodi i 
and very ашпас. 

The police detective was a son of a 
bitch who seemed more interested in gi 
g me shit than in catching 4 criminal 
He all but openly accused me of being 
homosexu ant, of course. that 
he wouldn't help me. (“Well if you do 
have homosexual tendencies and just hap 
ed ао get rolled. there's. nothing wc 
do for you.") Young. impressionable 
id that I was, I began to wonder about 
myself, 1 was scared of girls, but. that's 
not unusual at 16. 

When I had intercourse for the first 
time, at 18, it changed my life. It hap 
pened in the cab of a pickup truck in a 
busy alleyway. I had about three. bucks 
пу pocket. no gas and 40 miles to drive: 

irl was horny enough not to care, so 
she only charged me a quarter. 1 had to 
move the truck twice to let people through 
and the third time. | drove а block or 
ieter spot. Since it had 
a blistering day—112 degrees at 
noon—and Га been doit avy work 
the sun all day, 1 was too exhausted 
10 com bout а half 
hour and then 1 dropped her olf at the 
same place 1 had picked her up. 1 had 
lost my fear of ladies and my worr 
about my own sexual orientation. 
(Na 1 address 
withheld by request) 


but we screwed for 


PORNOGRAPHIC CORONARY 

According to an item in the "Scenes" 
column of The Village Voice, a man in 
Europe had a heart attack and died while 
watching a pornographic film. The doc- 
tor who performed the amopsy said sex- 
ual excitement might have brought about 
the man’s demise, This, if true, would 
give foes of pornography new grounds 
for demanding censorsh 

Robert Giant 

New York, New York 

Fortunately, there's no evidence that 
sexual excitation has an adverse effect on 
persons with heart trouble (physical heart 
trouble, that is). A man might as easily 
keel over while driving his car or reading 
a fund-raising letter from Citizens for 
Decency Through Law. 


KEEPING IT FROM THE KIDS 


As a practicing clinical psychologist, 1 
am concerned about the possible harm to 
child g at copies of PLAYBOY. 


While rsonally seen a 
case of psychological disorder us a result 
of exposure to photographs of nude per- 
sons, it certainly is possible. As Freud 
postulated, sex and aggression are basic 


FORUM NEWSFRONT 


what's happening in the sexual and social arenas 


TRUCK TEASERS 

pALLAS— The Federal Communica- 
tions Commission îs investigating re- 
ports from Texas, California and other 
states that prostitutes ате using citizen's- 
band radios to solicit business from 
truckers, Officials presume that some of 
the reports are true, bul much of the 
soliciling appears lo come from teen- 
aged female pranksters. The spokesman 
for a Dallas С.В. group said that many 
of the radio calls have been traced 10 
truck stops. "We sat and listened to the 
exchanges, and after a while some truck 
would pull in and flash his lights at a 
car full of young girls in the parking lot. 
But in all the incidents we watched, as 
soon as the truck pulled in, the girls 
would tear the hell out of ther 


ANXIETY OVER EROTICISM 

CAMBRIDGE, MASSACHUSETIS—The Har- 
vard dean of students has refused to let 
Harvard and Raddiffe undergraduates 
participate in a university-conducted 
study of the relationship between anx- 
ілу arousal. Expressing 
concern about “the private nature of 
the subject being researched,” the dean 
said such experiments would be de- 
humanizing and might have harmful 


and sexual 


aftereffects. The tests would consist of 
attaching electronic devices to sexual 
organs to determine whether or not sex- 
ual arousal declines as anxiety increases. 
The professor heading the project ex- 
plained that the subjects would listen 
lo "an erotic story, a sexy story, con- 
cerning a young man and a young 
woman who get together and have fun 
sexually, described in more or less anx- 
iety-provoking ways.” 


THE SCALES OF JUSTICE 

Los ANGELES—Los Angeles police of- 
ficers have been supplied with mini- 
ature scales to assist them in enforcing 
California's nea 
the revised statute, adults found in рох 
session of less than an ounce of pot are 
not arrested. but ave issued a citation, 
similar to a traffic summons, that carrie 
a maximum finc of $100. L.A. police 
chief Edward M. Davis, who strongly 
opposes reduced drug penalties, issued 
the scales lo ensure that the new law 
would he enforced as rigorously as 
possible. Hr told a meeting of juvenile 
officers, “We finally have one that's 
vest-pocket size . . . so if those cats 
think they're going to get away with 
very much, they're all wet." 


marijuana law. Under 


FIGHT CRIME, NOT SIN 

SAN FRANCISCO—Joseph Freitas, Jr, 
San Francisco's new district attorney, 
has anounced that his office will no 
longer prosecute prostitutes ог minor 
pot offenders and that, instead, his staff 
will devote its time and resources to 
violent crime and consumer protection 
"If its a nonwmolent, noncoercioe. ac- 
tivity between adults, and it doesn't 
involve any other crime, my office will 
not bother with it,” Freitas 1014 news 
men. He added that he didn’t expect 
his new policies to please the local vice 
squad ov ily supporters. 


EXECUTION REJECTED 

Lonvon—Brilain’s Parliament has 
voled 361 to 232 against executing 
persons convicted of acts of terrorism. 
Although some polls indicate that а 
majority of Britains favor restoring the 
death penalty for such crimes, Home 
Secretary Roy Jenkins described hang- 
ing as a “false remedy” that “would 
not merely be ineffective against the 
enemy bul also a danger to our own 
cause.” Britain abolished capital pun- 
ishment in 1965. 


LESBIAN LOSES CUSTODY 

DALLAS domesticcourt jury has 
awarded. custody of a nine-year-old boy 
to his father, who brought suit after his 
former wife acknowledged that she was 
а lesbian. The mother, who had re- 
ceived support from the National Organ- 
ization for Women, indicated she would 
appeal the decision. 


NOXIOUS NOMENCLATURE 
LOS ANGELES—A deportation order 
issued by the U.S. Immigration and 


Service the ex- 
pression faggots has brought sharp pro- 
tests from homosexual organizations. 
The order denied a visa to an Austral- 
ian male homosexual as the legal spouse 
of a U. S. citizen, giving as the reason: 
“You have failed to establish. that a 
bona fide marital relationship can 
exist between two faggots.” An Immi- 
gration spokesman. responded, "I am 
nol prepared to say whether there has 
been an insult at this time. The word 
is in the dictionary with the definition 
"male homosexual,’ so it's an acceptable. 
word." The gay Australian disagreed 
and said, 71 never expected to be called 
a faggot on a U.S. Government 
document.” 


Naturalization using 


CLIPPETY-CLOP, PLIPPETY-PLOP 
CHARLESTON, SOUTH CAROLINA—T he 
drivers of Charleston's horse-drawn car- 
riages have worked out a compromise 
with the city fathers in a dispute over 
horse droppings on the streets. The city 
council had passed an ordinance requir- 


ing all such horses to be specially 


diapered, to which the drivers loudly 
objected. The council finally agreed not 
lo enforce the ordinance when the 
drivers offered another solution: Each 
carriage will contain a two-way radio 
with which to immediately dispatch a 
motorcycle cleanup man to the scene of 
any horse droppings. 


ENEMA MENACE ENDS 

URBANA, ILLINOIS—The notorious 
“enema bandit” who assaulted as many 
as ten women near the University of 
Mlinois campus has been sentenced to 
six concurrent terms of six to twelve 
years in. prison—not for enemizing his 
victims at gunpoint but for armed 
robbery. It seems there’s no law that 


specifically prohibits involuntary ene- 
mas, but in some of the attacks, the 
30-year-old man also stole money from 
his victims. 


PANTY PROBLEM 
WASHINGTON, D.C.— The Federal Trade 
Commission has graciously agreed lo let 
а company manufacture bikini panties 


without a sewn-in label giving launder- 
ing instructions. FTC rules require such 
information, but the firm. successfully 
argued that a label big enough to read 
would “look large in relation to the 
garment and mar its appearance.” 


A SLIP OF THE TAPE 
ancaco—A mailing firm, hired lo 
send computerwritten thank-you letters 
to 4200 former guests of a Chicago hotel, 
mistakenly thanked the wrong mailing 
list and threw hundreds of houscholds 
into turmoil. The hotel's switchboard 
was swamped with some 500 calls from 
irate husbands and wives demanding 
either more information about their 
spouse's recent patronage or assurances 
to one spouse that the other hadn't 
stayed there. According to the embar- 
rassed manager, "We got a lot of calls 
Jrom women who said now they knew 
where their husbands spent their lunch 
hour 


One pregnant woman who re- 
ceived a letter tearfully said that her 
husband was furious and doubtful that 
the baby was his. А woman suing for 
divorce was disappointed that the letter 
wasa mislake, because she wanted to use 
й in court against her husband. The 
manager commented, “Husbands and 
wives don't trust cach other much these 
days.” 


drives, and either repression or over- 
stimulation of these drives—as in con- 
sistent and repetitious exposure to photos 
of nudes—produces psychological. dis- 
orde: 

hildhood curiosity about and interest 
in the naked body is, of course, normal 
and should be treated as such: but that 
doesn't mean that such interests should 
be promoted or facilitated, Some act 
ties are developmentally inappropriate 
for children, and monthly viewing of 
the latest PLAYBOY is one. There's g 
ing opposition to magazines dealing 
violence and aggression. If you accept the 


premise that both sex and aggression are 


ny respects, then you should 
tive approach to exposing 
children to cither. 
Lance R. Har 
Institute of 
Relations 
Springfield, Vir, 
We've never seen a case of nude 
photos messing up а youngster's. head, 
either, but you've probably seen many 
children who suffer the effecis of pa- 
rental prudery. As Jor sex and aggression's 
being similar in тапу respects, they're 
also different in many respects and need 
not be dealt with in the same way. In any 
event, PLAYBOY isn't edited for nor di- 
rected to children; if they see il, it is prob- 
ably through casually picking up and 
looking at their parents! copy. Wheiher 
they should see it ai all is something we 
consider a matter for parents to decide. 


BURN A DISC FOR JESUS 

‘The Reverend Charles Boykin of Flor 
а is burning rock records ou the 
grounds that the beat causes. immoral 
sexual behavior (Forum — Newsfront, 
March). Is Boykin aware that most of 
rock is in four-four ne, the 
Beethoven's most stirring symphonies? 
he does le: this, will he start a 
“Trample Ludwig for the Lord" cim- 
paign? 

However, as Arthur Hoppe wrote i 
the San Francisco Chronicle, it might be 
worth while to investigate Boykin's claim 
that of 1000 you dies who became 
pregnant out of wedlock, 984 were list 
g to rock at the time. If this is true, 
we have а contraceptive method that is 
98.4 percent effective. Ban rock. music 
and the popu explosion will level 
oft. ОГ course, we'll have to 1 Bee- 
thoven, too, as well as military marches 
and many hymns, Maybe we'd just better 
ban all music and achieve negative popu- 
lation growth immediately. 


San Francisco, Califor! 

Boykin has attributed the 981-oul-of 
1000 stalistic to various sources, such 
as a college professor and a Gallup Poll. 
He told Chicago Daily News columnist 
Mike Royko that the figures came from 
this man. He's from West Virginia. Or 
maybe Virginia. He stopped in our church 


47 


PLAYBOY 


48 


one day and gave us the statistics. . . . 
He's an evangelist, He travels all the 
lime.” Hm. A mysterious man who goes 
about befuddling even the servants of 
the Lord? Sounds to us like Mr. Scratch 
himself. 


MOONSHINE 

Two years ago, a gang of zombies de- 
scended on Berkeley and San Francisco. 
They were nicknamed the Mooners, 
being robotic disciples of the Reverend 
Sun Myung Moon. Believe it or not, 
their big moral crusade at the time was 
defending Richard M. Nixon, as evidence 
of his myriad misdeeds was being un- 
carthed by Watergate investigators. The 
Mooners had been programed by the Rev- 
erend Moon to ignore all the facts of the 
хоп case and just to repeat, parrot fash- 
ion, that he was our President and we 
should love him and serve him, period. I 
‘ed where they would go and what 


Seattle recently and 
there were the Mooners, picketing an 
adult bookstore. They were as grim, hu- 
morless and automatonlike as ever and as 
ely dedicated 10 attacking the 
bookstorc's right to sell books as they had 
been to defending Nixon's right to sell 
out the country. I don't know who this 
Reverend Sun. Myung Moon is, but he 
sure knows how to b sh his followers. 


isco, California 


MEDITATION AND HAIRY PALMS 

When I was young, the chief threat to 
my moral well-being and my physical and 
mental health was masturbation. It is 
rather amusing to note that a new men- 
ace has been discovered that rhymes with 
the old—meditation. The Reverend Billy 
James Hargis, that intrepid hunter of 
Communists undcr everybody's bed (who 
has lately been accused of getting into a 
few beds too many), declares that yogic 
meditation is a diabolic plot to destroy 
our moral fiber. Other clergymen аге 
quickly climbing onto the band wagon 
of this new demonology. In Lynchburg, 
South Carolina, where 1 was traveling 
recently, a local Bible thumper, the Rev- 
erend F. L. Huth, denounced transcen- 
dental meditation as “a tool of Satan" and 
because it is allegedly 
-Gita, which he 
ignorantly described as “the Hindu Bible.” 

Soon, doubtless, we will be hearing that 
meditation causes li 10 grow on the 
palms, that a boy in Tootsville, Arkansas, 
practiced meditation for three days and 
suffered “permanent and incurable br: 
damage.” that the lotus position is de- 
scribed in mmunist Rules for Revo- 
lution,” smuggled from Siberia to the 
headquarters of the Christian Crusade in 
Tulsa, that a crowd of deranged young 
meditators caused a riot in Southern Cali- 
for and that the practice has been 


"linked" to blindness, insanity, sterility, 
lower school grades and rock 'n' roll. 

It's а hilarious experience to live in a 
Christian country. The only thing funnier 
would be living in a Marxist country 
(Groucho, that is). 


Clarence Ingram 
Atlanta, Georgia 


RELIGIOUS HATRED 

After reading in the January Playboy 
Forum that H. L. Mencken once charged 
that religion is the greatest fomenter of 
hatred in the world, I smugly thought he 
was merely being iconoclastic. That 
might have been true in the days of the 
Crusades and the Inquisition and the 
Thirty Years’ War but not today. Then 
1 remembered: Catholics and Protestants 
orthern Ireland. Arabs 


п Lebanon. 
1 guess Mencken is still right. 

John Reed 

Philadelphia, Pennsylvania 


GETTING YOUR IRISH UP 

After a careful study of the situation 
in Northern Ireland, 1 have conduded 
that the violence is being generated by 


“What a man Kennedy was! 
Able to service various 
beautiful women day and 
night and still run the 
country.” 


psychosexual frustrations rather than by 
economic or political causes. My the- 


ory is this: Irishwomen are conditioned 
by the Catholic and Protestant churches 
to view sex as a sinful activity that should 
be tolerated only for the purpose of re- 
production. The women, consequently, 
reject their husbands’ sexual advances or, 
if they accept, break off the lovemaking 
immediately after the husbands have 
ejaculated. This early curtailment of the 
love act deprives the women of an o 
gasm and leaves them frustrated, con- 
firming their view that sex benefits only 
the man. 

The men, whose sexual advances are 
constantly being rejected, go to bars 
drink and fight to burn off their sex 
frustrations. М 
cronies, they discuss soi 
the more frustrated males transfer their 
aggressions to that arena. 

Now that the underlying cause of the 
known, the solution is 


simple 


1. Irishmen should learn to keep it up 


for a good 20 minutes—or until th 
women have at least a couple of orgasms. 
2. This new orgasmic experience will 


kindle Irishwomen's slumbering sexual 
fires and theyll want to do it more fre- 

maybe even twice а week 
increased frequency in love- 
g will leave their husbands and 
lovers free of sexual frustrations and so 
content that they'll no longer desire to 
duck out for a drink and a fight. 

4. The тер! g of social intercourse 
nd, will make economic 
ical grievances scem more and 
more insignificant, and Irishmen will be 
more content to keep the peace by stay- 
ing home and getting laid. 

Name withheld by request) 
Medford, sachusetts 


THE PRESIDENT'S LADIES 

The furor over the disclosures of the 
allegedly endless series of extramarital 
allairs of President Kennedy is just too 
silly. The moralistic, self-righteous cluck- 
ing that goes along with these half-baked 
accusations is a lot more offensive to me 
than anything 
I can't im 
Jack went out fc 


1 bedtime snack now 
and then while Jackie was away: but if 
all the stories are true, I say more power to 
him. What a man Kennedy was! Able to 
service various beautiful women day and 
ight and still run the country. What a 
contrast to Richard Nixon and all the 
other repressed politicians who vented 
their sexual frustrations by bombing 
Hanoi at Christmastime. As Mike Royko 
pointed out in the Chicago Daily News, 
по one ever accused Thomas Jefferson or 
Ben Franklin of being poor leaders be- 
philandering. Maybe what 
all the bluenoses and newspaper editors 
who print all those rumors want arc lily- 
риге leaders who would rather make war 
but PH take a dozen John 
edys any day. His memory will 
glow even brighter in the light of these 
revelations about his personal life. 
John Fisher 
Chicago, Ilinois 


GOOD OLD LEON 

As James McKinley has written in 
Playboy's History of Assassination in 
America, on September 6, 1901, sur- 
rounded by soldiers and police in a Buf- 
falo, New York, receiving line, President 
m McKinley shot twice, point- 
by Leon Cuolgosz a 28-year-old 
self-professed anarchist. McKinley died 
eight days later and Czolgosz was elec- 
trocuted six weeks after that. Unsettling 
questions remain. 

How could an unemployed misfit with 
a right hand apparently bandaged but 
actually holding a .32-caliber revolver 
covered by a handkerchief reach the 
President, when he had to walk between 
a long double line of soldiers and police- 
men and with four detectives, four 
soldiers and three Secret Service agents 
clustered around McKinley and two more 


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50 


The new Dual 1249 has added many 
more serious music lovers to the roster of 
Dual owners, os it provides every feoture, 
innovation and refinement long associated 
with Dual turntables plus some new ones. 

The low-mass tubular tonearm pivots 
ona true four-point gyroscopic gimbal 
suspended within о rigid frame. Tracking is 
flawless ot pressures as low os o quarter of 
6 gram. In single-play, the tonearm parallels 
the record to provide perfect vertical 
tracking. In multi-play, the Mode Selector 
lifts the entire tonearm to parallel the 
center of the stack. 

The dynamically-balanced cast platter 
and flywheel are driven by on 8-pale 
synchranous motor via a precision-ground 
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can be set to exact speed by means of an 
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Of course, if you already own a current 
Dual, yau wont really need a new turntable 
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agents standing three feet away, fa 
him? How could the assassin remain un. 
observed and unchallenged until he met 
the outstretched hand of the President 
with two fatal bullets? 

Why, although several well-known an- 


archist societies in America admitted 
knowing good old Leon, did not one of 
them claim him as a membe: 


were the anarchists cove! 


the act, Czolgosz said, “I did my 
duty.” His duty to whom? 

Why, in spite of Crolgos nervous 
breakdown three years carlicr and his 
other known signs of mental instability, 
did his attorneys refuse to plead insanity? 

Why was he executed so quickl 

In Crolgosz casterm Europe: 
пу, was there а connection with, say, 
Russian revolutionaries or, perhaps more 
likely, with remnants of the Hapsburg 
Empire seeking to regain lost glory and 
power in the New World? 

What connection was there between 
McKinley's death and the near-success- 
1 tempt on his Vice- 


, Theodore Roosevelt, little 
more than a decade later? 
In the light of these and myriad other 


unexplained gaps in the record, I call 
upon the Био Chamber of Commerce, 
Howard Cosell and the Dicgo 
County Board of Supervisors to reopen 
the investigation into thi ination of 
President McKinley. I tust PLAYBOY 
will add its prestigious voice to the call. 
Dr. John the Ice Gream Man 
Imperi: 


ial Beach, Califor 


HOLTVILLE HIGH HOLDS THE LINE 

Playboy Forum readers may remember 
my letter in August 1975 about my son 
Lee, who nearly had to go to court to 
s legal right to play on the Holt- 
h School tenuis team despite his 
long hair, Lee was both Associated Stu- 
dent Body president aud class valedic- 
torian, but after the nonsense over hi 
; the school changed the rules so that 
he could mot deliver the valedict 
speech. Asa gentle protest, he stayed home 
from his graduation; he's now a fresh: 
at Yale on scholarship. 

Th: t the end of the story. My 
daughter Lisa, aged 15, is still a student 
at НойуШе High. The е 
school paper, a dassmate, appointed her 
sistant editor. Then, on school admin- 
iswation orders, the position for which 
she was selected was abolished. When she 
and her classmates tried to argue the 
question before the school board, they 
driven out of the meeting by shouts 
and laughter. Lisa and other members 
of the literary Quill and Scroll Club de 
cided to publish their own newspap 
The school principal forbade the publi 
cation. With the help o£ the Am 
Civil Liberties Union, the students ob- 
tained an injunction from a San Dicgo 


w 


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Johnston А Murphy. A Division of Genesee: 


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Federal judge requiring the school to al 
low them to publish their paper, which 
the students called The First Amend 
ment. When the Holtville High authori- 
ties once again tried to stop the paper, this 
judge had to enforce his order by 

threat of contempt. Meanwhile, I have 
filed a $1,600,000 damage suit against 
us viola- 


the school authorities for va 
tions of Lisa’s civil rights. 
The paper has been published and our 
home has been subjected to anonymous 
and threatening phone calls, h: 
and barrages of cggs and rocks. We're 
liberals in a reactionary community; 
we're friends to Cesar Chavez in а com- 
y whose power structure hates him: 
we're patriotic. Americans who rely on 
the Constitution in a community of 
hypocritical flag-wavers. The impulse, of 
course, is to get the hell out, but we have 
decided that it might be worth it to stay 
and fight. If we win this battle, every 
school child in America will benefit. A 
group called Citizens for a Free Press 
(135 West Seventh Street, Holtville, Cal- 
ifornia 92950) has been formed to collect 
donations for legal costs. 
Norm Pliscou 
Holtville, California 


munii 


DISTURBERS OF THE PEACE 

When I read the letter titled "Kanga- 
roo Court" in the January Playboy Fo 
тит, I was glad to learn that the judge 
sat down on the brat who was caught 
driving his dirt bike on the street. To go 
out and have some fun on a bike in a 
prop is fine and dandy, but whe 
а person takes an unlicensed and street- 
dangerous machine into the public's right 
of way, he's off ba 

Motorbikes waste gasoline and dis- 
turb the peace and quiet of a neighbor- 
hood. Anyone who is caught riding an 
unlicensed and noisy bike should have 
it impounded forever. There are a lot of 
good kids riding bikes in a responsible 
manner, but those who don't deserve 
whatever they get. Three cheers for the 
judge; wish he had been here last year 
The innocent kiddies here have damaged 
private property, endangered life and 
forced drivers off the road, driven at 
speeds twice the residential limit of 
25 mph and eluded the police so often 
that they will no longer respond to calls 
alt 


ar 


from the local citizens. I's Dodge Ci 
over again. 


Henry Ruh 
Whitmore Lake, Michiga 


THE DOPE HUNTERS 
For sheer lunacy and cruelty, the anti 
dope mania in the U. 5. is a good rival of 
witch-hunts, antiSemitic pogroms and 
similar outbreaks of mass hysteria. People 
who are —truly afraid, deep down 
inside—will do more stupid and vicious 
things than one expects of the sane 
(concluded on page 55) 


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53 


“Playboy Forum” Casebook 


UP AGAINST '"THE WALLS” 


In 1966, Daniel Atkinson was about as close as one can get 
to being the typical American boy—a white, Protestant, 
middle-class, B-average San Diego high school graduate from 
a good home who enlisted in the Air Force and became a 
combat air-traffic controller in Vietnam. Five years later, he 
was b; an opponent of the war and a heroin 
ad two-year suspended sentence. Today, he is living 
at a drugrehabilitation center in Seaule, along with his wile 
and four-ycar-old daughter, but [acing new drug charges that 
could send him to “the Wally’—Walla Walla state. prison— 
for 20 years to life. He contacted PLAYBOY not to secure legal 
help, which he has already, but to advocate reforms in this 
country's approach to heroin. His case illustrates the problem 
facing thousands of veterans and others who need some alterna- 
eto drug addiction besides a prison cell. 

While in high school, Atkinson tried marijuana on several 
Occasions but used no other drugs. In Vietnam, he started 
smoking pot between combat missions and, like many others, 
graduated to heroin partly f that its addictive 
qualities, like the dangers of marijuana, were greatly exagger- 
ated by Government antidrug propaganda. In any case, it 
provided cscape from anxiety, depression and some unpleas- 
ant realities. "When I volunteered.” Atkinson says, “I was 
bout as gung ho as they come, a real patriot. That didn't 
last long. In Nam, the morale was dose t0 zero. We were 
killing about 75 percent noncombatants—women and kids 
nd old men who just couldn't get out of the way—and for no 
good reason. It got to everybody. The older guys stayed stoned 

booze. The young guys used drugs. Everybody had a 


п the bel 


Atkinson entered college, which he 
taining a 3.1 grade-point average 
despite his addiction. He supported his habit through cooper- 
ative buying with other addicts, some of whom he had met in 
the Service. It wasn't anything like the movies, he says—just 
addicts pooling their money to buy wholesale in Mexico, with 
the buyer getting his cut free for taking the risk. 

e studies ended in 1971. when he was busted 
5s D worth of heroin across the U. Me: n 
border. He received a two-year suspended sentence and success- 
fully completed his three years of probation. But his record 
made good jobs impossible to find and, with this and other 
problems, he gradually returned to heroin. “I kept telling my- 
self, “Just a litle while longer and things will get better, and 
then 1 can hole up for a couple of weeks and get straight 
again. " This, he says, is a classic addict rationalization. 

In April 1975, he was in the state of Washington with a 
dealer who made a sale to undercover officers in the city of 
Everett. Although not directly involved in the sale, he was 
charged with possession, conspiracy and aiding and abetting, 
which in Washington carries the same penalty as the criminal 
act itself. 

Being caught and jailed gives most offenders time to reflect 
on the error of their ways and to commit themselves t0 reform 
if given a second chance. Atkinson admits—indeed, points 
out—that he had a second chance and, without treatment, blew 
ir. In an interview, he told us that, in his experience, the only 
way a second chance cin help most heroin addicts is in conjunc- 
with intensive. psychotherapy that both teaches and moti- 
vates an individual to cope with stress without the aid of drugs. 
Experts agree. For one thing, the experience of going to prison, 
п most cases, only turns an addict into а criminal and almost 


for 


guarantees that he will spend the rest of his life being processed 
into or out of the criminal justice system, Even prisons have 
found it virtually impossible to keep out drugs, and those in 
Washington are no exception. At some of the state's institutions, 
heroin and other drugs reportedly are used by 50 to 80 percent 
of the inmates. As Atkinson puts it. “This is like locking an 
alcoholic in a bar and expecting him to come out sober.” 

To John Leque, his court-appointed attorney in Everett, 
and later to us, Atkinson expressed less interest in avoiding 
shment, even prison, than in securing treatment. Part of 

i le in the Snohomish County Jail con- 
cerned the future of his wife, Teresa, and his daughter. 
Celeste. The realization that he was a 28-year-old junkie who 
had devoted the past ten years, in effect his youth, to the 
military and to drugs was abo a sobering thought. Hi 
dilemma is that two of the charges inst him carry ma 
tory prison terms and in prison he cannot get treatment. 

Despite his previous conviction, Atkinson is considered an 
excellent prospect for rehabilitation. Diane Osland, a case- 
worker for Snohomish County, and Denise Sterchi, counselor 
for the local Service for Treatment Assessment and Referral 
(STAR) program, have recommended him for treatment; so 
has his former Federal parole officer. He could not obtain 
such treatment, however, because he could not raise $10,000 bail 

Last fall, Atkinson decided oi rather hazardous tactic to 
draw attention to his situation. By means of a ruse, he escaped 
from the county jail and fled to Vancouver, Washington, 
where he entered a Veterans Administration drug-treatment 
center. He then called Snohomish County authorities. 
escape could earn him an additional ten-year prison sentence, 
but it accomplished at least two things: Newspapers raised the 
issue of drug programs and a superior court judge, Daniel T. 
Kershner, decided to release Atkinson on personal recogni 
zance to enter Seattle's Genesis House drug-rehabi i 
gram while he awaits trial. 

Ironically, Washington, unlike many states, does recognize 
drug addiction as a health problem and state law requires the 
Department of Social and Health Services to provide rehabilita 
ad treatment programs for both drug addicts and convict- 
ed drug offenders, Recently, the Washington supreme court 
ordered this department to comply with the Iaw and pr 
such treatment. The problem is that the state legislature has 
never appropriated the necessary funds. 

Whether Atkinson continues at Genes 
prison now depends largely on Snohor 
Federal Drug Enforcement Administr 
deputy prosecutor, David G 


House or goes to 
h County and the 
on. The county's chief 
Metcalf, is no longer convinced 


look into the Gi 
ance in it and has indicated that i[ reports аге favorable, 
and if the DEA m o claims on Atkinson, he will accept a 
plea on certain charges and give a stay ol. proceedings о 
that carry mandatory prison terms. This would permit Judge 
Kershner to consider probating Atkinson's sentence and parol- 
g him to Genesis House. Atkinson's ultimate freedom would 
depend on his performance in the program and afterward 
while on parole. 

The outcome of Atkins 


those 


a's trial will be reported in a later 
issue. Meanwhile, the Playboy Foundation is assisting the Legal 
Services Center in Seattle in a classaction suit to require the 
establishment and funding of the various drug programs man- 
dated by state law. 


Consider the following stories from Th 
Texas Observer 

A doctor and his wife wire-tapped 

daughter's telephone continuously 
from 1967 to 1973, then turned c to 
the authorities all the information on 
drug dealing they had gathered. It's im 
possible to imagine parents in normal 
Circumstances using their child in this 


Чоп, but one can sec how fear 
maddened persons might behave so, as a 
pious medieval couple might have report 


ed a Child's apparent. involvement. with 

devil worshipers or Victorian parents 
might have sought mental hospitalization 
for a son addicted to the brain-rotting 
abit of masturbation. 

2. A whole town—Spring Branch, 
Te has been seized by the madness. 
It now owns а Germa d 
dog trained to hunt down dope-owning 
kids. The police claim that the hound has 

ty, attacking only when 

wearing a leather collar and changing to 

safe and friendly dope sniffer whe 

wearing a chain collar. The damnec 

dog's name is Romel, spelled almost like 
that of Hitler's best gene 

The Texas Observer quotes local lib 
erals as remarking unhappily that the 

ad doesn't justify the means. That has 
to be the understatement of the year. 
Could end possibly justify a totali 

rian paranoia that sets parents to using 
wire taps and attack dogs against their 
childre netimes I think Planet of 
the Apes was taken olf TV because it 
was too close to the truth 
Frank Mitchell 
San Antonio, Texas 


BEYOND REFORM 

L cannot feel that it is enough to mere- 
ly lower the penalties for possession of 
small amounts of m E s has hap- 
pened in several states recently. The 
penalty for possession or for cultivation 
lor private use should be reduced to 
nothing. 

Donn С. Dickey 
San Bernardino, California 

The California State Bar has called 
for the removal of all criminal penalties 
for the possession and cultivation of 
атіјиапа for personal use by persons 18 
years of age and older. The National 
Organization for the Reform of Mari- 
juana Laws agrees that possession. and 
cultivation. penalties ате unfair and has 
filed suit asking that they be declared un- 
constitutional as a violation of the indi- 
idual's righi of privacy 


The Playboy Forum" offers th 
opportunity for an extended dialog be 
tween readers and editors of this pub 


lication on contemporary issues. Address 
all correspondence to The Playboy Forum, 
Playboy Building, 919 North Michi- 
gan Avenue, Chicago, Illinois 60611 


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nano www ABBIE HOFFMAN 


a clandestine conversation with the former yippie leader, now an 
“absent-minded” fugitive from a life sentence for dealing cocaine 


He grew up a smart-assed pool shark in 
Worcester, Massachusetts, an industrial 
town famous for being only six miles 
from the birthplace of the pill. Most 
townjolk wish the pill had come first. 
After a checkered scholastic career that 
included spells at Brandeis and Berkeley, 
he returned to Massachusetts, where he 
tried to combine political activism with 
careers as a psychologist and a pharma- 
ceuticals salesman; by then he had a 
wife, Sheila, and two young children 
to support. It was at the 1966 Newport 
Jazz Festival that Hoffman first found him- 
self on the wrong side of a policeman's 
buncheon—a position he would assume 
many times over the next decade. He 
joined the civil-rights movement and spent 
three years in Mississippi and Georgia 
alternately fighting off the Ku Klux Klan 
and trying to register blacks to vote. 

After experimenting with LSD and 
divorcing his wife, Hoffman moved 
10 New York City, where a new culture 
was breeding on the Lower East Side led 
by a gang of crazy long-hairs who called 
themselves Diggers and who believed in 
giving away everything they could lay 
their hands on, which, given their nimble 
fingers, was a lot, These, Hoffman knew, 


aoa ee 


This going underground can be 
done. This is nothing. You got to have 
been chased by the Ku Klux Klan through 
Mississippi at five AM. without a road 
map. That's trouble.” 


were his people апа he emerged as the 
spokesman for this neu class. 

Another middle-class refugee, Jerry 
Rubin, was hanging out on the Lower 
East Side about then. When Rubin met 
Hoffman, the Sixties’ most famous radi- 
cal partnership was form The pair 
formalized their association into the 
Youth International Party—the Yippics— 
and made plans to invade the 1968 Dem- 
ocratic National Convention in Chicago 
for а “Festival of Life.” Thanks to Mayor 
Richard Daley and Chicago's finest, 
something quite different was in store for 
the demonstrators. Seven months after the 
convention and its disorders, Hoffman, 
Rubin and five other white radicals (plus 
black activist Bobby Scale, whose case was 
later severed) found themselves. indicted 
under a new law—conspiracy to cross slate 
lines to commit riot—by а new U.S. Al- 
torney General, John М. Mitchell. 

The trial of the Chicago Seven, as the 
group came to be known, symbolized the 
violent climax to the decade that spawned 
the generation gap. When, after one of 
the most controversial trials of the cen- 
tury, five of the seven were conoi 
not for conspiracy but for ind 
“overt acts”—thousands of young people 


ted — 


"Ford is а fucking bimbo. 
famous picture of him making his own 
breakfast, I don't know if you noticed, 
but he was marmalading the wrong side 
of his English muffin.” "Uu 


took to the campuses and the streets to 
burn R.O.T.C. buildings and trash busi- 
ness districts throughout America. 

In 1971, Hoffman found himself once 
more arrested, this time for his participa- 
tion in the May Day demonstrations in 
Washington. Л re rocking the 
antiwar movement. One declared. that 
leadership was inherently evil. Another, 
backed by the emerging women’s move- 
ment, hurled charges of elitism and male 
chauvinism at virtually every white male 
movement personality. Exiled from his 
tituency, Hoffman wrote an open let- 
ter “resigning” from the movement. He 
turned to other things. In 1970, he had 
helped spirit LSD prophet Timothy 
Leary oul of the country to take refuge 
with Eldridge Cleaver in Algeria. Cleaver, 
Leary and companions fell out, but Hof} 
man decided to collect in written form 
what he had learned from that experience 
and add to it other forms of outlaw how-to 
know-how. Although he had achieved com- 
mercial success with two previous books, 
“Revolution for the Hell of N” and 
“Woodstock Nation," he could find no 
publisher willing to produce “Steal This 
Book"—not under that title, anyway. So 


ew trends w 


со 


“ГИ accept a draft at the 1976 conven- 
tion. Ме and Hubert Humphrey. I met 
him once in Miami in 1972. He said, ‘You 
made some good points there in Chicago,’ 
and I replied, ‘You were the point.” 


57 


PLAYBOY 


58 


Hoffman published it himself and "Steal 
This Book" became ап underground 
classic. 

he pressures of police harassment, 
media overex posure and constant needling 
from the left had driven Hoffman and 
his new wife, Anita, to seck a life of 
seclusion, So with the arrival of his son, 
america, Hoffman decided to cool his 
heels, play family man—and write a se- 
quel to “Steal This Book” that would 
lake everything one step further. In 
August 1973, during the preparation of 
the book, he arranged a cocaine sale 
through contacts he says he made for 
research purposes. With three others, he 
was arrested in New York's Hotel Diplo- 
mat and charged with the sale of co- 
caine, conviction for which would mean a 
mandatory life sentence. After spending 
six weeks in the infamous Tombs prison, 
Hoffman was released on bail—and re- 
solved he never would spend another 
minute in jail. In October of that year, 
he appeared in court in Chicago; al- 
though the court of appeals had struck 
down the Chicago Seven's conviction for 
incitement to riot, it ordered another 
tial on charges of contempt of court. 
Hoffman and his codefendants had never 
hesitated to express their outrage against 
sepluagenarian Judge Julius Hoffman, 
who had presided over the original trial. 
Once more Hoffman was convicted but 
was not sentenced to a jail term. That, 
however, was to be one of the last public 
appearances јог Abbie Hoffman. In 
March of 1971, he vanished and shortly 
thereafter sent word that he intended to 
remain a fugitive, dedicated to building 
an underground network of armed sub- 
version against the Government of the 
United States. He has since undergone 
plastic surgery to alter his appear- 
ance and, except for a video taping done 
a year ago for public television that re- 
sulted in an article in New Times, this is 
the first major interwiew he has granted 
since that time. Ken Kelley, a free-lance 
writer with underground connections, 
contacted us with the possibilily of con- 
ducting an interview with the man who, 
since the capture of Patricia Hearst, has 
become the FBI's most wanted radical 
fugitive. The story of how Kelley pulled 
it off appears on page 67. 


PLAYBOY: Why did you decide to 
doing this interview? 

HOFFMAN: It was a collective decision. And 
the fact is, I read PLAYBoy— but only for 
ihe recipes. Family Circle tells you how 
to make frankfurters in aspic, but PLAYBOY 
has very sensuous recipes. 

PLAYBOY: So you're a chef as well as a 
radical fugitive? 

HOFFMAN: Yeah, if you can make a bomb, 
you should also be able to make a soufllé. 
Even if you can't spell it. 


PLAYBOY: Have you been making bombs 
in your new life? 

HOFFMAN: Bombs? Boom-boom? I've never 
gone bombing. They wouldn't let me 
come. 1 belong to an organization and if 
1 do anything important, I check with 
the division commander. I'm no anarchist, 
you know. 

PLAYBOY: There are risks having this 
conversation, though, aren't there? 
HOFFMAN: Sure, especially because in the 
al town 1 live in, people read 
rLAYBoy—and some of the stories I'll be 
telling in this interview might be recog- 
ied by them. The other thing is that 
the magazine is dearly wking a 
PLAYBOY is, in ellect, stying that it won't 
cooperate with the Government in its 
attempt to capture and cage me. Hugh is 
puting his ass on die line, no doubt 
about it. I think it's very brave and cou- 
rageou: 
PLAYBOY: Let's start with your arrest for 
dealing cocaine. Why did you decide to 
go underground rather than fight the 
charges against you? 

HOFFMAN: We didn’t have the time, we 
didn't have the money to put on an ade- 
quate defense. I guess the odds are prob- 
bly two to one that I could have won the 
case, but if I'd lost, the penalty was a 
mandatory life sentence. Mandatory! 
That means there weren't even any op- 
tions. It’s the same as if it were a murder 
case. 1 didu’t think the best way to carry 
out my goals in life would be to spend 
the rest of my days in a Rockefeller resort 
like Attica. 

PLAYBOY: Were you guilty of dea 
сос: 
HOFFMAN: Well, not in the way that you 
and га use the term dealing. It wasn't 
my dope. I mean, I played а role—I ar- 
ed or two cops to meet cach other, 
but I was set up by them, and besides, 
they uscd illegal wire tapping and entry. 
That was attested to in open court by 
impartial witnesses, and the transcripts 
show it. So the answer to your question is 
no, Iwas not guilty. 

PLAYBOY: If what you say is truc and the 
transcripts contain that evidence, why 
haven't the charges against you been 
dropped? 

HOFFMAN: Without public support, 1 
will 


t 
the case. The hearings have shown 
that the police committed perjury. Im- 
partial witnesses identified these cops, 
these same cops that busted me, as the 
ones who illegally wiretapped and en- 
tered the apartment 1 м . However, 
there is no guarantee that this could be 
presented in the trial. The courts have to 
work with the police all the time; the po- 
lice have incredible resources and power. 
The rules of evidence, misconceptions 
about dope, my revolutionary views 
none of these help. If it had been an 


average case, the charges would have been 
dropped a long time ago. But I haven't 
been involved in an average case in a 
dozen years, because every arrest has 
political overtones. Political cases have to 
be fought in the public arena. The dis- 
trict attorney held five press conferences 
within the first four days after 1 was bust- 
ed, announcing that there was nothing 
unusual about this case. 
PLAYBOY: What were you дой 
you were busted? 

HOFFMAN: Actually, 1 was planning the 
breakout of a friend from Rahway prison 
in New Jersey. Nothing more on that—I 
don't want to blow his chances for trying 
again. I was working on a book about 
crime I was going to call Book-of-the- 
Month Club Selection, which would 
include all sorts of stull on underworld 
people, dealers, bank robbers. Ironically, 
Iwas also giving speeches on Rockefeller’s 
drug laws, which went into effect four 
days after I was busted, The New York 
drug laws are the harshest in the country. 


the time 


If you're found guilty, you're eligible for 
re re- 


parole in 15 tọ 25 years. There 
ds for people to turn in their friends. 

Anyway, E had been interviewing dope 
dealers. I wanted to include a chapter on 
ine, because it was in fashion, you 
know, and I didn't think it was particu- 
larly harmful: Medical research has only 
proved that it scours your sinuses. If you 
mine its history, it's been used by 
blacks a lot, so of course it has been illegal 
for about 60 years—to get blacks 


со 


So one of the dealers turus out to be a 
cop, which 1 didn't know at the timc. I'd 


known this person since the Columb 
demonstrations of '688—he was probably a 
cop then, too—and I saw him occasionally. 
His name is Louie. In the course of telling 
me about cocaine dealing, he asked if I 
knew anyone interested in buying it. And, 
in asking around, I discovered x 
people who decided to pool th 
sources. 1 brought the scale and we went 
down to the Hotel Diplomat—I was to get 
a tip for being the scale bearer. Anyway, 
instead of Louie, up popped 30 cops 
through the v shouting, "We got 
your ass now! йаг cop childist 
nesses. I felt real bad. 

As soon as I was in the 
set at $200,000. Then, later, it was cut in 
half and eventually I only had to post 
$10,000 because I followed my lawyer's 
advice and didn't run off at the mouth. Н 
you play their game and don't say any- 
thing nasty, just keep quiet and look at 
your shoes, the bail goes down—if not, as 
was the case with the Panthers, bail stays 
up and you stay in. Of course, my silence 
added to the presumption of guilt. 
PLAYBOY: You were locked up for six 
weeks before bail was posted, weren't 
you? 
HOFFMAN: Yes 


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during the hottest summer in N 
history. I was placed in the administrative 
ward—thars murder and up—for my own 
"protection." It was $o hot everyone 
soaked towels in ihe toilets and wrapped 
them around themselves. There was no 
air. And I couldn't eat for six days 
because the food was so miserable. There 
were rats in the bread. In front of my cell, 
ot his eve ripped out of its socket. 
People are turned into animals. T devel 
oped the notunrealistic fear of homo 
sexual rape after being stalked. Its built 
into the system, the control mech: 


m. 1 
made up my mind that if I could get out, 
nothing would ever get me back 
PLAYBOY: How much cocaine did they find 
in the hotel room? 
HOFFMAN: Three pounds. 
PLAYBOY: And you claim you were there 
only 10 observe and take notes for your 
book? 
HOFFMAN: And to referee, to arrange the 
meeting, 
PLAYBOY: Come on: why would vou go to 
all that trouble for research and a tip? 
HOFFMAN: Thars the only thing Fm 
ashamed of—that 1 got money for it. In 
my mind, doing anything for profit is 
evil, so that even if I was set up, I felt 
both guilty and innocent. It got pretty 
complicated. morally. 7 don't know if 
I'm innocent or guilty. All I know is that 
I was to be ап example. To be a dealer 
as they know it, 1 would have to have had 
Майа connections. I don't know that area 
I don't even know the marijuana empire. 
But if I'm considered guilty, then the 
police are, too. We had affidavits attest 
ing to the fact that the cops entered my 


mother-in-law's house illegally. posing as 
workers for the phone company. A сор 
who was instrumental in the bust was 
nized by a witness as one of the 
“telephone-company men.” There are 
tapes, too, which the cops made: The room 
had been bugged. Even my prosecutor 
didn't believe the police. But he 
one of the guys in the D.A/s office who 


wanted to make it big. Meanwhile, the 
cops who had done the bugging ^ 


ished" and my lawyers couldn't 
of them. The official excuse for the van- 
ishing was that we'd be gunning for 
them. When the court asked the CIA 
for its files on me, the CIA came back 
with something to the effect that it 
never heard of me. It admitted to havi 
files on 10,000 radicals, but not on me. 
Meanwhile, the judge, a kindly black 
lady, seemed to want to give me a good 
chancc—to do a Sirica—but with all those 
witnesses testifying to wire tapping and 
those two cops lying. she hid to choose 
and she chose the cops. Of course, judges 
have to work with cops every day; it’s a 
rare judge who will go against them in 
such circumstances. 

PLAYEOY: Were there other attempts at 
setups? 


HOFFMAN: Well, in the Tombs, I met this 
guy who tried to talk to me about jump- 
ing bail and escaping through his connec- а 
Чоп to Argentina. Instinctively, I didn't 
trust this guy. It seemed to me that he 
might be another planted informer, who 
could testify that 1 was making plans to 
jump bail, which meant my bail would be 


revoked and I'd be wearing handculls 
throughout the ti 


I was warned by a e 
lawyer that the Ю.А office might пу 
something like that. ‘The tactic is to make 
you so skittish that you land in jail for 
thinking about escaping. ы 


PLAYBOY: You were thinking about it, 

weren't you? No other factor—not even the antennas. On both transmit and 
HOFFMAN: Sure. Опсе I was out, I talked cost and quality ofthe CB radioset receive. So don'tlet a "do nothing" 
witha friend who had been in Attica and I itself—makes such a dramatic antenna put a muzzle on your 

knew I would end up being bumped difference in CB performance as Citizens Band communications. 
olf. That's not theoretical, cither. 1 would the antenna that puts out and takes ^ Power up with a gleaming white 


have been killed in A по doubt in the signal. Shakespeare antenna, and get top 

бак it, I was hav ing dighmare i A Shakespeare pre-tuned performance everytime you go on 
H hat. time. T had dreams about being fiberglass antenna can increase the air. They're ina class by 
gunned down by the piggy sheriff in the your talkpower over ordinary themselves. 


Dodge ads. 
PLAYBOY: Had you considered the pos- 
sibility of going underground before your 


cocaine bust? 
HOFFMAN: Yes. I had always considered it 


an honor to harbor any fugitive. Now I 
was on the other side, potentially. 1 de- 
cided to wy а dry run in 1971 
toured the island of St. Thon 
Virgin Islinds with a 
Here 1 am, and Гуе rented a house and 


Shakespeare Company /Antenna Group, Box 246, Columbia, S.C. 29202, 
put a deposit on it, and I come out to 
my rented car and there's this meter maid, 


In Canada: Len Finkler, Ltd., 25 Того Road, Downsview, Ontario M3J 2A6. 
а short little lady, putting a ticket on 


PLAY MATES... 
the meter has run out. Like a jerk, 1 stick IV 


my nose in it and she says, "Excuse me, P А! 
could 1 sce your license?" So I show her 
my license, but she wants some special 
license they hand tourists and which I 
haven't got, and she arrests me, She's 
steering me gently to the police stati 
which is conveniently only about 40 feet 
away, and when I get there, I'm more 
under arrest than ever. 1 can get out for 
a $100 bail fec, only 1 doi 
Em on bail at the time, and 
is 10, 2 
they say, 


ULE names отап tink Cod Four beautiful Playmates of the Year on full-color posters, each 14" x 30" Choose your 

its only a year and a half after the favonte—Claudia Jennings (AHO152), Liv Lindeland (AHO153), Sharon Clark (АНО154), 
ial, has Julius Hoffman retired Angela Dorian (AHO155)—S1.50 each, plus 50¢ shipping and handling. 

So I walk in, trying to look like a Cx take all ou! The set of four (АБО). S5 plus BOF shipping and handling 


n, and this 
Judge Hollman is black. I walk up to the 
bench sideways and talk in an altered 
voice. He says it's a fivedollar fine and 
the tourist. agency's fault, Later, I 


THE ROVALLINE OF FIBERGLASS ANTENNA, 


Соте The блесна Company 


Пете 
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find out it is perfectly legal to live in а NOCOD orders, please. 

U.S. colony assuming an alias—you can o ропе! enclosed. ПЕР 2 Ill. residents add 5% tax 
use an alias as long as it’s not for pur- ا‎ юке FIRED ] = 
poses of fraud. But I was surveyed Club credit Key no. IJ: 


P96 
constantly. Once the news broke that I w; р 


there, the local police decided that I w: Name. = 
there to stir up the blacks. Actually, that _ "ELI 
was the real changing-the-diapers period. 

PLAYBOY: What were the first preparations 


you made to go underground? 

THE BRUT PROFESSIONALS. korman: Well it seemed like 1 had been 
E JOE preparing for a long time before the ac 

NOT FOR THE AVERAG „ со те рена 
p gave me some idea about political asylum 

that a person like Patricia Hearst, for 
example, couldn't have. I had investi- 
gated the politicalasylum angle for other 
people, so I knew the practical and. psy 
chological areas. It seemed to me that 
Algeria, where 1 had helped bundle Leary 
off to, was inhospitable; a person was 
liable to end up under house arrest or 
charged with the use of narcotics there 
The exile community itself was unstable— 
such as Leary himself, who got olf the 
plane in Algeria to take a leak and told 
everyone where he was going so he could 
get fan letters. I never have favored as 


PLAYBOY 


- lum in run. Exiles get cut 
EP 5 3 i olf from the struggle. They end up get- 
Or Tom, Dick or Harry, either. They're for Joe ting dislocated, Perge e Gris 
Namath and guys who want to look well above Russian anarchists hanging around Zurich 
average. And do. bleeding for a bowl of borsch. If an exile 
Available only at your hairstylist. The Brut sees something wrong happening, he's 
Professionals are salon-tested and professionally 4 4 helpless. In the FBI's eyes, you arc like 


formulated to give hair maximum manage- 
ability. Great body. Natural luster. All this and 
the great smell of Brut, too. 

Next time you visit your hairstylist, ask for 
The Brut Professionals— Brut" Deep Cleaning 
Shampoo and Brut* Instant Hair Conditioner. 
There's nothing average about them. 


а sore nerve ending: you can expose the 
presence of the CIA just by being there. 
So they want you liquidated. It's dificult 
10 tell how sincere a country that takes in 
exiles really is—Istael has this big mother 
myth of itself as refuge for all Jews in 
trouble, but 1 wouldn't be worth threat 
ening negotiations over a Phantom jet. 
PLAYBOY: You mean you considered Israel 
as а possible asylum: 
HOFFMAN: Nah, I don't believe in a re 
ligious state, I'm a Communist. To say 
that every Jew should support Israel is 
like saying every Catholic should have 
supported Mussolini’s Italy, Well, fuck 
that. But Jews are interesting people— 
we were chosen, after all. But chosen to 
do what? There are two kinds of Jews 
in the world: the kind that go for broke 
and the kind that go for the money 
Those who go for broke say crazy things 
like, "Every kid wants to fuck his 
mother,” ог "Workers of the world, 
unite.” Jewish troublemakers. ‘That's the 
creative, humanistic trend in Judaism, 
but there's another: “Don't rok the 
boat.” It fucked up my childhood. But 
I've gotten some perspective on it now 
In my new life, people don't know I'm 
i—you notice I don't look Jew 
and 1 sometimes hear anti-Semitic 
jokes I never heard belore. 
PLAYBOY: What other identities did you 
consider? 

HOFFMAN: Well, I thought about becom 
ing an Italian. I was told I'd have friends 
in Sicily, no questions asked. And, of 
course, a year ago at Christmas 1 was 
Mickey Mouse at Disney World 
PLAYBOY: You look as if the experience 
aged you. 

HOFFMAN: No. that’s the plastic surgery. 
А woman I lived with told me that now 


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1 look like the normal Abbie Hoffman— 
but handsomer. So it has its Cinderella 
aspect, you know. Your face changes, you 
have to be different all the way through. 
1 trained myself to change my eye move 


ments—I used to make сус contact with 
everyone; now 1 know how to glaze over, 
keep preoccupied. I learned karate to 
change my gait. losing ten pounds in the 
process. Being away from Anita changed 


gs. to0—if you have to keep in touch 
with someone through a complex letter 
system, it changes things 
PLAYBOY: What was the plastic surgery 
like? 
HOFFMAN: Well, it started out kinda 
freaky. I wanted the doctors to age me 
which shocked them enough to land me 
in a loony bin right there. The whole 
world wants to look younger and this 
creep walks in and says, “Wrinkle me 
up, mant" I told them that I was doing 
TV series in Canada for children, play 
the part of some grandfatherly old 
shit—like C; K; 
ed it, fortunately. 
interesting, be 
мау you've got 
the best doctor in the whole wide world 
and there's nothing to worry about" 
even though they don’t give a fuck about 
anything but Blue Cross. The cops di 
intervene, because, at the time, 1 
not yet a fugitive. 1 could have had a v 
inal cyst for all they knew. Anyway, they 
pumped me up with Demerol and I got 
high ou changing my face. You give thc 
doctor enough money and you can be 
tall, short, he'll take something out, put 
something in. So now 1 have one nice 
Aryan nose, rosy Anglo cheeks. And for 
further changes, 1 had learned about 


be 


Hospitals 
ause the level of conv 
Hi, sweet 


sation 


make-up for television appearances. I'd 
been doing fucking research for three 


Ml this was happening before 
Шу became а fugitive? 
HOFFMAN: Y. 


h, the judge is taking her 
time, thinking TH show up because she's 
playing Sirica while playing footsie with 
the cops. Meanwhile, I'm trying every 
thing out—except for drag; E don't think 
1 could have worked in drag. 

: But just to say on the track. 
tly did you make the decision 


10 go underground? 
HOFFMAN: When | was in Mexico City 
Dick Cavett didn’t know it, bur he paid 
for my escape. Cavett contacted me and 
sent me a ticket when I was on his show 
It was made out in my name from Mexico 
City to New York to Richmond to Atlant 
to "void." The ticket was open-ended, 
other words, so I could keep moving. A 


the South seemed good place to van 
once I started thinking about it. I figured 
I'd catch the Allman Brothers’ show in 


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Atlanta, then fade out from there. 1 
gave my last public speech at the Univer 
sity of Richmond after Td made up my 
mind. I didn't know where I was goin 
but 1 knew I wasn't coming back. It w 
good speech and I put in a due that 1 
was splitting. 1 said, "Tell Rocky when 
he comes looking that he ain't ever gonna 
find me.” 

PLAYBOY: Aside from the plastic su 
how did you change your physical appear 
ance? 

HOFFMAN; 1 started talking with this сар. 
driver in enting 
hair conked. The idea occurred. to me, 
"Goodbye, famous Irizzy hair.” 1 decided 
that il had only one Ше, I would rather 
live it as a blonde. Blondes have more 
lun, right? Back in my hotel room, 1 
slathered my haii—and my snatch—with 
Clairol, hall-blinding myself in the proc 
ess; those fumes nearly killed me. After 
the chemical ordeal, I went to the mirror, 
expecting to look as Nordic аз Veronica 
Lake—but nothing had cha 
w: brown. My hair was still Irizzy 
1 looked at the iustructions on the pack 
age. 1 had followed them exactly. I 
seemed my body was just not going w 
ake that shit sitting down. So certain 
things didn't work 

PLAYBOY: Well, you don't look like the 
same person now 
HOFFMAN: Yeah, that ple: 
new lace and I've got my clothes all 
changed and everything. MI those 
“Wanted” posters come out, and 1 paste 
them up all over the mirror and say, “1 
don't know who the fuck you are” But 
lor a while, it was strange. Plastic surgery 
hunts. 1 didn't believe anything but the 
pain lor a while, It took me three weeks 
to recover. There’s no accurate way ol 
telling il you have changed as much as 
you think you have. Recovering in New 
Mexico, 1 ran into this kid ] could have 


s 


Айана who was g his 


ged. My hair 


es me. Fm 


sworn recognized me Irom some cumpus 
organizing I had done or something. | 
tried to bluff it, but E zm sure he knew. 
Probably 1 just smelled like Abbie 
Hoffman, 
PLAYBOY: Was the surgery expensive? 
HOFFMAN: Absolutely. But the doctor hurt 
me, so I skipped ош. Blue Gross doesn't 
pay for that kind of thing 
PLAYBOY: How did you and Anima face 
the prospect of separating? 
HOFFMAN: At first, we were so busy getting 
mobilized, in kind of a trance 
really hit us. When it did, we just cried. 
Nothing is as intimate as crying with 
someone—not loving, not balling. Опе 
of the hardest things was my kid, amevica, 
who I won't see grow up. My kid became 
the symbol of everything that would be 
missed. 1 became really pensive. 1 had to 
look at everything. But once I started to 
go, it was a question of mechanics, 
PLAYBOY: What did you do in your first 
months as a fugitive? 
HOFFMAN: Well, for six months I worked 
(continued on page 72) 


nothing 


RIDING THE UNDERGROUND 
RANGE WITH ABBIE 


article By KEN KELLEY 


APRIL pay in San Francisco last 
year, I wa kened at the crack of 
noon by the trill of my doorbell. A post- 
man with an Americin-flag lapel pin 
handed me a letter with four cents’ post- 
ge due. Inside was a cryptic note: “Hi! 
Greetings from The Underground! Wan- 
rendezvous? Go t0 а pay phone and 


call I1 pat, April 15. 11:05 will 
be too late. Your old pal, Abbie." The 
postmark w ше; the area code, 


Miami. I pictured a coast-to-coast tunnel 
of radical molework. 

For the next three days, I found myself 
+ old memories of Abl Hoffman. 
more than a year since I had 
seen him, just before he vanished in 
the wake of his cocaine bust. I remem- 
bered the first time I had met him, in 
1968. It was in New York's Tompkins 
quare, when the Lower East Side 
teemed with the flotsam and jetsam of 
flower children not yet wilted. A demonic 
apparition had popped out of the hordes, 
its head а mass of friz, and parked itself 
in front of me. 


sce my tongue? 
) asked me that before. 
оге 1 could muste 
drous membrane slowly unfurled itself, 
wet, flat and craggy. [ knew it was the 
beginning of a lifelong friendship. 

At the appointed hour, I walked to a 
nearby phone booth and dialed the num- 
ber. Instead of Abbie's Boston. pool-hall 
iwang, D heard a friendly, businesslike 
female voice. She was, she said, also at a 
pay phone, and “our friend" wanted to 
sce me. И 1 wanted to meet him, 1 was 
10 go to a certain departmentstore par 
ing lot in Phoenix in exactly one week, 
three rM 


e no doubt less interest- 
around to meet an 
underground fugitive than a suburban 
department store in the Arizona desert, 
but after three hours of waiting, 1 was 
becoming bored. Then I noticed a white 
I-bird, late model, pull up near me. 
Opening the door, a tall, slender, faxen- 
haired woman beckoned. I nervously 
plopped myself into the front seat with- 
out a word. She wheeled out like a pro. 
“Ken, my name is Angel,” 
after a few minutes on the road. It w 
the same mystery voice from the Miami 
phone. I was to find out later that she 


id fashion model 


had been a highly р: 


before taking up with Abbie. She handed 
me a black kerchiel. “I know this sounds 
d. but you have to put this on and 


slouch down in your seat." 
aps halt an hour later, we turned 
г ls or so 
turned left t off the ў 


American. Highway Gothic motel room, 
empty. “Wait here. on the bed," she in- 
structed, and walked п adjoining 
room. I heard the doorknob c I 


Ere 
Clarence Kel 


“How'd you know it was me 
“Га recognize that tongue anywhere, 
1 said. 


This is ouly one of about seven dis- 
guises I have down.” 

He wasn't kidding. Over in a corner 
was an antique steamer trunk, which 


Abbie proceeded to open with some cere 
ony- Inside he had stashed an asort- 
nt of costumes suitable for Madame 
Tussaud's. For formal occasions (“such as 
Rockefeller's funeral"), a dark-blue tux- 
edo with tails and satin cummerbund. 
For more casual attire, a simple silk pin- 
stripe, black. Abbie stopped me before I 
could inspect the fi n of apparel— 
he wanted to model it personally. Faster 
than Clark Kent in a phone booth, he 
emerged from the bathroom sporting 
three proud sergeant's stripes on his sleeve: 
New York Gity policeman posed men- 
icingly before me. “I just got promoted 
st week!" he shouted. "Now, up against 
the wall 
Inside a compartment of the trunk 
was his “Head Kit"—a huge assortment 
of make-up, wigs and beards, face putty, 
eyebrow paste-ons. a yarmulke, even a 
stretchy pink fake scalp for the Telly 
Savalas look. 
Abbie chose to remain in his police 
orm for the duration of my visit. 


We had an auldlangsyne chat for the 
next couple of hours. Somewhere in the 
course of it, I said, "Say, why don't we 
do an interview? You know, sit down Íor 
three straight days of Q. and A. I bet that 
PLAYBOY... . 

“We'll see. I have to consult my col- 
lective, you know, before I can give you 
a yes ог no. I'm a full-fledged Commie 
now 

Then a treat—in the motel kitchen- 
сце, Abbie fixed a sumptuous five-course 
French meal that would rate a couple of 
stars from Michelin, presented with a 
flourish, 
Abbie, Angel and I sat around briefly 
ter the meal. Abbie informed me that 
nine-o'clock flight back to 
San Francisco in the morning, that Angel 
would drive me and that when he figured 
, he would let me know 
way that this meeting had һе 
arranged. Meantime, I should put out а 
feeler to PLAYBOY, but I was to select 
only one editor at the magazine, swear 
him to secrecy and communicate with 
him only in person or by mail. Abbie 
then swept Angel up in his arms and 
exited stage left. 


Memorial Day weekend, I found my- 
self in San Diego in the engaging pres- 
icc of my two scofllaw friends, While it 
not seem particularly frightening or 
ferent for me to walk around publicly 
with Abbie, he wanted to practice a day 
normal,” since the major prob- 
nds from the past 
was the p агапоіа. it was an etjoyable; 


room, t а and whirlpool. 
But behind this deliberately cheerful 
and relaxed vibration, | could sense 
Abbie's terrible uneasiness. His humor 
morc mı than usual—and his 
normal pace left most people breathless. 
There was a choppiness to his gestures; a 
haunted look would enshroud his eyes 
from time to time. I couldn't figure out 
why, but Abbie scared me. I soon found 
out. While he went downstairs to buy 
an after-dinner cigar. Angel told me 
about her past month with him. The 
pressure of meticulously preparing a tape 
to be shown on public television had 
ed him out, On an impulse, he had 
taken Angel for a weekend fling in Las 
Vegas. It was there, she said, that Abbie 
had lost all his marbles. For 17 hours 
straight, he screamed his real name 
the top of his lungs over and over 
gain within earshot of hotel residents, 
Angel barely survived the ordeal herself. 
Given his condition, the three of us 
agreed that we should find a spot for the 
interview that would be sunny, warm 
ad relaxing. 
“Why not Mexico?” 


I asked jokingly, 


67 


PLAYBOY 


68 


as we were only an hour's drive from 
the border. To my startled chagrin, he 
looked at me with the old why-not gleam 
in his eye—why not do something a bit 
daring, unpredictable? Spontaneity ruled 
the moment. 

So we packed our suitcases, beat the 
motel bill —I wanted to pay it, but Abbie 
insisted it would be "good practice" not 
to—and headed for a downtown book- 
store. 

As we got into the T-bird, I felt a 
strange pulsation under my seat, kind of 
lilting back and forth. We parked and 
I went into a bookstore to look for a 
Mexico-on-five-dollars-a-day book. When 
I emerged, a surreal scene greeted me. 
Abbie was clutching a large Siamese cat 
by the nape of the neck, trotting after 
a slinkyhaired woman who obviously 
thought him daft. I inquired as to what 
the hell was going on. 

“This cat. this goddamn car came out 
from under the seat!" Abbie yelled. “So 


1 figured it belonged to someone around 
here. Then this girl that I'm sure is Cher 


came out of that shop, and this looks like 
а cat she would own. .. .” 

non, Abbie, what would Cher be 
doing in San Diego?" 

'0—getting married to a 

We deposited thc cat on the sidewalk. 
and headed for Tijuana, stopping for a 
Baskin-Robbins sugar hit first. The bor- 
der crosing was a cinch and we did a 
liue shopping in town for some tequila, 
cigarettes and perfume that Angel claimed 
could be bought only there and in Aix-en- 
Provence. 

We decided to head for the eastern 
shore of the Gulf of California—lots of 
beaches, small towns and sun. 

We were all pretty tired when we ar- 
rived at a town called Guaymas. We 
drove until we came to a hotel right on 
the ос with an alluring stretch of 
beach. Abbie went to sleep immediately 
d Angel and I decided to head into 
town for a litte local culture. 

We walked around town for 45 min- 
utes and then heard the strains of rock 
"n roll emanating from a distant court- 
yard. Wi n and began 
dancing i 
courtyard. 

Suddenly a scuffie broke out on the 
other side of the room. Instinctively, T 
ducked and moved to a corner with An- 
P nce between us and 
the commotion good 50 yards. I 
felt a whizzing pass in front of my lips, 
very dose. I turned just in time to sce 
Angel clutch her hands to her face. At 
her [eet was an unopened can of beer, the 
top rim bloody. She took away her hand 
id a long, ugly scarlet gash started to 
ооге to the left of her eye, slanting down 
to her ear. She was in a state of shock, as 
was L Complete pandemonium broke 
loose, everyone wanting to help, offering 


advice in a high-pitched Spanish staccato. 
I maneuvered her into the back room 
and someone called the Red Cross. 


showed up, ushered us 
drove bre eck through the narrow cob- 
blestone streets to the Red Cross Center. 
Inside, we found there was no doctor on 
duty—but a very crisp and reassuring 
nurse showed us into a makeshift operat- 
ng room. Angel lay on the one cot in 
the room, clutching my hand fiercely. 
The problem was to prevent the nurse 
from stitching up the wound on the out- 
side and leaving a scar. Angel's modeling 
carcer would end unless I kept a constant 
суе on the nurse to make sure she under- 
stood what we wanted—inside stitching, 
yes, but only a butterfly bandage on top. 

An ungodly series of yelps and thuds 


“Abbie’s glitterbug went 
haywire. Inside of ten 
minutes, he had persuaded 
the entire crew that he was 


a Hollywood producer.” 


commenced in the hallway outside and 
five brown-shirted Mexican. gendarmes 
hustled in a bloody specimen. He was 
kicking and screaming, so they began to 
him wi ncheons а few feet 
away from us until he subsided into a 
bloody heap. A few minutes later, there 
was another commotion and another un- 
fortunate was dragged in, this one 
even worse shape, with bullet wounds in 
his stomach and legs. The victim's mother 
came in, waving her hands frantically in 
the air, tears streaming down her face. 
One of the turned menacingly 
tow Jesus, I thought, now they're 
going to beat her into a pulp. At that 
moment, a nun walked in and interposed 
herself between them. She was а large 
night the 


cops 


country, I figured. 
The stitch job was completed 


id Angel 


a fear th; 
transcended even the night's terrors. How 
would Abbie react? Would he pull an- 
other Las Vegas? We decided to let sleep- 
ing Abbies lie, and Angel said she would 
sleep in the back of the car while I tip- 
tocd into the room. T managed maybe 
15 minutes of light dozing, then heard. 
him yawn and start. 

Where's Angel?” 

I jumped up, ran to the basin and 
splashed water in my bleary eyes and 
recapitulated the story as last as I could, 
tying to sound calm. I don't think 1 


sounded calm. Abbie ran out to Angel in 
the car and they had a talk while I chain- 
smoked Fiesta cigarettes. In half an hour, 
he came back to thc room. He was shaken 
and I smelled trouble, “We have to get 
back to the States right away,” he said. 
"Go check on flights for you and Angel— 
TH drive the car.” 

І knew there was a small airport in 
Guaymas and I trudged into the hotel 
lobby to get the clerk to place a call to 
the airlines. As I approached the desk, I 
did a double take. Surely this experience 
had finally taken its toll and I was 
goner. The lobby was filled with Ameri 
cans, and very unusual Americ: at 
that. Liza Minnelli. Burt Reynolds. A 
groggy-looking Gene Hackman. I cor- 
nered опе of the crew—I wasn't halluci- 
nating—and found that the cast of 
Lucky Lady was staying at that hotel on 
location. 

T was strictly on automatic pilot. T was 
told there was a plane available in about 
two hours and booked two seats on it. I 
prayed that Abbie wouldn't pick that 
moment to stumble into the lobby. My 
prayer was answered: He wai 
seconds after Liza had gone out the exit. 
The sun was rising and before I could 
head him off, he strolled out omto the 
veranda. All those Americans around— 
What's up? It took him all of sever: 
seconds to discover he was on location. 
Hollywood! Movies! His gliterbug went 
haywire. Inside of ten minutes, he had 
persuaded the entire crew that he was in 
pictures himself, a Hollywood film pro- 
ducer, but most of the cast concluded he 
was an obnoxious creep. An hour and a 
half to go, I thought. Abbi 
surlier with me when I tried to reason 
him back into the room. It became ugly. 
I walked back to console Angel and 
hoped for the best. It was the only thing 
1 could do. 

As we drove to the airport, his mania 
became more and more intolerable and 
both Angel and I were glad to get aboard. 
the plane to San Diego 


ne even 


Tt was with another taste of historical 
irony that 1 found myself in Abbie and 
Angel's company on yet another holi- 
day—Thanksgiving, the day after which 
was Abbie's 39th birthday. Remember 
when you couldn't trust anybody over 30? 

Anyway, this time the pay-phone con- 
nection instructed me to fly to Houston. 
The familiar white T-bird arrived, Angel 
picked me up and this time the blindfold 
was blue. We drove for hours and my 
spinal column felt sorely abused by the 
time we destination, a 
wling Texa 
here I found a much-improved Abbie 
Hoffman—the old Abbie at his best. And 
the new Abbie at his best, for that mat- 
ter; he actually apologized for the way he 
had treated me, something 1 had never 


heard him do before. The trials and trib- 
ulations of the spring had mellowed 
him and he seemed resolved to take an 
active role in the revolution once more. 
As for Angel, the scar had been sanded 
olf by the best Miami plastician and with- 
out a magnilying glass, you could never 
detect the slightest trace of our Mexican 
episode. Abbie and I did three whole 
days of Q. and A. in a relaxed and con- 
vivial mood. He fixed what was probably 
the most impressive Thanksgiving spread 
I've ever experienced, as more than 100 
friends of his—locals who knew him only 
by his new identity—partied into the 
night. He kept hinting broadly that on 
my las day 1 would see another old 
friend, though I couldn't pry loose from 
him who it would be. 

Since the ranch where Abbie reigned 
as patriarch had a stable of four beauti- 
ful horses, as well as some terrific riding 
wails, 1 arranged the night before my 
departure to spend the morning riding 
with Angel. I can ride competently 
enough, but I suppose the effect of watch- 
ing too many Gary Cooper movies led me 
to dismiss her warnings about the big 
brown pinto. 

Yes, it happened. 

Going into a full gallop, the horse 
suddenly decided to take a short cut 
home, swerving sharply to the right. I 
was thrown ten fcet into the air, into a 
stone wall, where, fortunately, my head 
was the first point of contact, and I 
blacked out for the first time in my life. 

After what seemed like hours, I finally 
heard the wonderful purr of the T-bird, 
which soon became a white gleam down 
the road. In the front seat I could discern 
Abbie at the wheel and Angel behind him 
and a very familiar figure riding shotgun. 

Abbie rushed out of the driver's b 
Angel jumped out of the back and Jerry 
Rubin stepped out of the passenger's scat. 

“See, we're up to the Rs already," 
smiled Abb; 

“Howdy,” I said to Jerry, whom I had 
seen two weeks before. Neither of us had 
mentioned that we were going to visit 
our special friend. It was an interesting 
contrast, bumping along that lonely Texas 
terrain, to watch the Sixties’ most famous 
radical double bill chatting away in their 
new incarnations. Back at the ranch, Abbie 
called а doctor who pronounced my head 
fine and my joint sprained, then wrapped 
an Ace bandage around my knee. 

Although the experience was painful, I 
was glad it had happened. It gave Angel 
the opportunity to tend to me in my time 
of need, as I had in hers. Or, in the ethos 
of the old West, we were even. In fact, 
there was only one missing element for 
the perfect cowboy saga with a happy 
ending. As Angel and I drove away, 1 
turned around to look at the spectacular 
setting sun. Sure 'nufl, Abbie Hoff- 
man was riding off into the sunset. Edi 


Forcolor reproduction of complete Wild Turkey painting by Ken Davies, 19 by 21? send 51 to Box 929- PBS, Wall SL.Sta NY 10005. 


Wild Turkey Lore: 


The Wild Turkey’s beautiful 
plumage was highly prized 
by early American Indians. 
The feathers were used to 
make arrows, blankets and 
the elaborate headdresses 
worn by great chiefs. a 

A truly native bird, the Л 
Wild Turkey is a most ү 
fitting symbol for the 
finest native American 
Whiskey —Wild Turkey. 


WILD TURKEY/ 101 PROOF/8 YEARS OLD. 


© 1976 Austin, Nichols Distilling Со. Lawrenceburg, Kentucky. 


68 


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That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. 


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PLAYBOY 


72 


asa teacher. I was very even, very dis- 
ined, very tight. Everyone kept telling 
fter six months it would be cool, 
ayed Mrs, Grundy and kept kids 
from gouging cach other's eyes out with 
Ticonderoga pencils. No one could eat 
the crayons. Everyone went to the bath- 
room only after raising his hand. But they 
were the loneliest months of my life. I 
didn't talk to anyone. Then a crazy lady 
fell in love with me. She was a Catholic, 
so I had to go Catholic pretty quick. I 
went to church every Sunday for five 
weeks and didn't blow it once. I tell you, I 
genuflect like a pro. Finally, I began to 
make my way into the world very, very 
delicately, all my feelers out. I made new 
friends who didn't know who I was. 

For caution's sake, I vanished several 
times and re-emerged elsewhere, using 
another name and identity apparatus. 
"Then there was always the fear that some- 
one who had known me in my last false 
incarnation would walk up and call me 
Ted when I was now D. There's no 
way of shutting up an insistent acquaint- 
ance quickly—no little flip of the thumb 
that means "Cut it out; it's urgent"—so 
I would just have to be on the lookout 
without seeming to be. If you look para- 
noid, you bring things on your ass. So 
there was always a question of the fine 
balance. 

PLAYBOY: ve you seen old friends since 
you've been under? 

HOFFMAN: Oh, yes, but not as Abbie Hoff- 
тап. 1 have talked with very old friends 
without their catching on—it was like 
being at your own funeral, But 
necessary. Occasionally, 1 have 
from the past, but it throws me off pat- 
tern. If I take an old friend to a party, 
he's so uptight about blowing my cover 
that he usually ends up in the bathroom 
trying to vomit up that one beer that 
might have loosened his tongue. Friends 
from the past have to make all the ad- 
jusments too quickly. They think they 
might call me by the right name. The 
wrong-right name, I mean. See how con- 
fusing it gets? It actually happened once, 
but no one noticed. But they always feel 
everyone knows. They read signals where 
there are no signals, I keep it down to a 
minimum because it's hard on everyone. 
PLAYBOY: Have your friends and family 
been harassed by the FBI? 

HOFFMAN: Anita has been turned into a 
surrogate black widow: Every time she 
goes on a date, they jump the guy. 
They're trying to isolate her to the point 
of craziness. They've smashed com- 
munes—anyplace they think I may have 
been gets some kind of ugly attention. 
Hell, they tried to stop my father's will; 
they tried to keep everything in escrow. 
My brother inherited the business and 1 
was left $1000—but they tied to keep 
the will from taking effect, as if that 
would smoke me out. They're all over 
the place. 


PLAYBOY: How competent does the FBI 
seem to you from your perspective? 
HOFFMAN: It is a good deal less active than 
you'd think from watching Efrem 
balist, Jr., bagging his man once a week 
on television. But they can make it hard 
on you, anyway. If someone like me— 
aged 39—tries to get a job, a longtime 
résumé is hard to forge. They also assume 
that you will resume past contacts— 
one of whom is bound to be an agent. Or 
they think that word will get around, 
that they've infiltrated the left so deeply 
that they'll soon pick up information and 
crack your web. 

I assume that in my case they have at 
least а couple of goons after me perma- 
пету, because it is important enough 
to reach the newspapers and they will 
get a lot of mileage out of that. They 
were really boosted by nailing Patty 
Hearst. The FBI never looked so good. 
She's not dead, they've got he 
others—exeluding the ones they killed— 
and it took the heat off. The FBI was 
looking incompetent for a while and it 
was hurting the budget, not to mention 


“Patty Hearst had me on the 
move more than anyone else— 
certainly more than the law. 
...[d think, “Oy, she’s gotta 
come here! Who needs this? 
I got enough problems! ? 


the big macho myth dear to the heart of 
every Amurrican. The Patty Hearst case 
allowed them to learn a lot about fugi- 
tive life. 

PLAYBOY: Do you move around as much 
as Patty Hearst did? 

HOFFMAN: I'm not as athl. Im more 
domestic. I probably move around less 
than you do. I heard the average Amer- 
ican moves every two years. I've lived as 
long as eight or nine months in the same 
spot, with intermittent. periods of travel. 
I've been in almost every state of the 
Union—except New York. I could get 
into New York and out, I know exactly 
how to do it, I almost did a video-tape 
thing of me defying the police to shut 
me out, but I decided it was a little banal. 
And though I am sure I can get away 
with it, it almost tempts fate. I want to 
maintain courteous relations with fate. 
PLAYBOY: Did the S.L.A. experience teach 
you anything about your own life as an 
outlaw? 

HOFFMAN: Yes—that you aren't going to 
scare the masses into a revolution in the 
U.S.A. Revolutionary violence has to 


be very precise—like a scalpel, It has 
to be used very delicately and it has to 
be used against objects that are scen as 
evil by a broad enough range of people. 
The most important object of an unde 

ground revolutionary group is sur 
not to get caught. The 5.L.A. would have 
been better off sitting on its collective ass 
for six years and not doing anything. Its 


actions of a dubious nature— 
like black superintendent. 1 used 
to have this out with black revolu 
groups all the time in New Yo 
know, about shooting a black cop. 
shoot a cop, shoot a white cop. Shoot 
a black cop just sharpens distinctions. 
With revolutionary violence, you don't 
just go off and shoot the mailman be- 
cause your welfare check didn't come on 
time. With revolutionary violence, you 
attack the enemy. The enemy is defined as 
the enemy of all people. Your bombs and 
your bullets had better be well placed— 
ard the ruling class. Now, should rad- 
bomb the Pentagon, that has a 
different quality. But 1 dont put the 
S.L.A. down the way the Panthers did. 
PLAYBOY: Did you have any close calls 
when the FBI was hunting for Paty 
Hearst? 
HOFFMAN: Patty had me on the move more 
than anyone else—certainly more than 
the law. There was a Jot of knocking on 
doors, with agents asking if anyone was 
moving in—things like that. I'd pick up 
the paper and it would say that P. 
was rumored to Pe near where I w 
Everywhere 1 wi 
same block and ra thi 
she's living next door—I've gotta split." 
I'd think, “Oy, she's gotta come Лете! 
Who needs this? I got enough problems.” 
If necessary, though, 1 figured I might be 
able to take some heat off her- there 
are 50,000 looking for her, maybe I'm 
enough to divert 10,000 of them. I would 
have helped her—there's no question 
about that. I have never not helped a 
fugitive—and I'm not saying this because 
Tm a fugitive now. Fugitives are my kind 
of people. They sleep in closets. They 
read all the time. They never argue. They 
don't try to piss people off. I know Z try to 
be good company—I make my hosts feel 
good by entertaining them, cooking good 
food. 
PLAYBOY: Did you ever meet Patty H 
HOFFMAN: Not knowingly. When I was it 
fornia, I went to the Hearst castle, 
San Simcon. My friend Angel took a pic- 
ture of me in a big funny hat waving Hi, 
baby, hi, hi, hi to Patty. I sent it to her 
through the media. That's how you com- 
municate, because we all watch the same 
television shows. 
PLAYBOY: Angel is the pseudonym of the 
woman you've been living with. Tell us 
about her, 
HOFFMAN: I've been very lucky. She's an 
exciting, interesting companion. I met 


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PLAYBOY 


7 


her after I went underground, and if I'd 
taken someone with me—there were of- 
fers from people who wanted to go—I'd 
have chosen badly. I was filled with anx- 
iety and fucked up. 

PLAYBOY: Did she know who you were? 
HOFFMAN: From the beginning. But it's 
not natural for her to call me Abbie—I'm 
Brian to her. It's absolutely not natural 
for her to think of that other person. 
PLAYBOY: Why did you decide not to go 
under with Anita? 
HOFFMAN: I don't make her decisions, and 
we decided together that this life would 
be too dangerous for our son, america. 
The separation has been less painful than 
you'd imagine, because my friends and 
comrades have stepped in to fill the void. 
PLAYBOY: In your communications with 
Anita, have you found out how your son 
is taking 
HOFFMAN: He understands he was not 
abandoned; we were driven apart by the 
Government. 

PLAYBOY; What is the closest you and 
Angel have come to being caught? 
HOFFMAN: Ouce I was driving a car with 
Angel asleep in the back scat and I was 
stopped for specding. The cop asked me 
bunch of questions about the LD. I 
was carrying. I knew all the dates and 
everything, but 1 hadn't been sleeping 
well and I was a little slow. So the cop 
says he wants to wake up Angel and ask 
her some questions while I stand off to 
the side, I knew he wanted to see if her 
story jibed with mine and I was really 
nervous. He had a loaded shotgun 
mounted in his car and I was wrestling 
with the possibility of grabbing the shot- 
gun if he came at me, because I couldn't 
Jet him get the handcuffs on me. But she 
told the story all right and it worked out. 
Actually, once I was arrested for a charge 
more serious than traffic. 

PLAYBOY: What was that? 

HOFFMAN: Dope. Patty dope. I was with a 
group that got busted and somehow I 
just talked my way out of it I didn't 
know what I wa 8. 

PLAYBOY: How, in fact, do you support 
yourself? Where do you get money to rent 
cars, to [ced yourself, and so оп? 

HOFFMAN: At the beginning, I had some 
people who helped me out financially, 
d 1 had some funds of my own—maybe 
1000 or $6000 from articles I'd written. 
But, on occasion, I've been close to des- 
peration. And I have engaged in illegal 
activities. 

PLAYBOY: Such as? 

HOFFMAN: Low-level, teeny-bopper white 
cine. Traveler's checks, stuff of that 
mature. 

PLAYBOY: Do you shoplift? 

HOFFMAN: Yes. І don't steal socks from 
sporting-goods stores in Los Angeles, 
backed up by a chorus of machine guns, 
Ill tell you that. But there have been 
times I've Ict my fingers do the walking. 
PLAYBOY: What about cash? 


HOFFMAN: Yeah, that's always a problem. 
I like to have a certain amount of money 
n case I have to bribe a cop. That 
sometimes works. 

PLAYBOY: It does? 

HOFFMAN: They are not above corrupti 
young mai 
PLAYBOY: Aren't you worried that some- 
thing as relatively insignificant as shop- 
lifting could get you caught? 

HOFFMAN: 1 have to survive and it's ve 
hard at my age to get hired for a job 


ad 


I'm pretty good at shoplilting. Actually, 


1 got forced into it by a repressive, puri- 
tanical society. When I was very litle, 
1 had to swipe dirty books, because I was 
ashamed to buy them: 48-year-old tecn- 
agers with huge boobs and he cupped her 
breasts in his hands and felt her inner 
thigh, higher, higher . . . which wa 
enough in those days. So sex and theft 
are highly correlated in my life. 

PLAYBOY: But you haven't often been 
close to desperation, have you? 

HOFFMAN: . I have a lifestyle I would 
term primitive elegance. 
PLAYBOY: You make it sound 
lun. Has it bee: 


“My phonetsn’t tapped for the 
first timeinT5 years. m not 
under surveillance by three 
or four agencies. There'sa 
difference between being 
hunted and being watched." 


HOFFMAN: No. You've known me [rom the 
рам, so when we meet, you're morc or less 
seeing the old me. But if you were to 
observe me through a oneway mirror as 
1 interact with my new friends, you'd see 
a different person—maybe several diffe 
ent persons, And packing too many iden- 
tities into your head at once can become 
very difhcult. At the beginning, when 
people would press me for informa 
I'd introduce a tremendous personal trag- 
edy—such as my parents getting killed in 
a car crash. It would stop the questioning. 
But 1 cant always remember what my 
newest story is. People will come up to 
me and say, “Its a shame your mother 
died in Calcutta," and I have to say to 
myself, “Lers see. . . ." I've told other 
but I'm trying to be selective, 
picking stories about people who won't 
read PLAYBOY. It can get confusing. In 
fact, once I cracked. 
PLAYBOY: How did it happen? 

HOFFMAN: 1 did this taped interview for 
public television, but I was only imper- 
sonating myself; it wasn't real. 1 said on 


the tape that I was together, I was pretty 
healthy. But, in fact, I went right out and 
cracked, really flipped out, Knowing the 
.S. as І do, I had the good sense to 
head for Las Vegas. I knew I was crack- 
g and I said to myself, "Don't go near 
the tables, don't go near the tables—you 
crack there and they'll call the cops.” I 
figured upstairs would be all right—you 
could be moaning and crying in a corner 
of an clevator and everybody would as- 
sume you'd just lost your business at the 
ap tables, So 1 managed to get into a 
hotel room and then let go. 1 ripped the 
furniture apart. I screamed out who I 
was—Abbie Hoflman!—all over the place. 
Once, I was standing next to Mort Sahl, 
who didn't recognize ше, and 1 kept yell- 
ing things like, "Play Red!” and “This is 
all going to Bangladesh!" I talked for 52 
straight hours, until my lips were all 
ed. For a few days, Angel and I got 
into the car and just drove through the 
desert. I kept hallucinating that she was 
Patty Hearst—and I had my doubts as to 
who I was. Luckily, Angel was a good sol- 
dier and knew how to deal with it. She got 
me some tranquilizers, which I wouldn't 
swallow at first, because I was fantasizing 
that they were poison. But finally 1 cooled 
out. Health food, no meat and a secure 
environment for a couple of weeks and 
I was OK. 
PLAYBOY: Could you flip out again? 

No. No. That caught me by 
I can't answer the question. I 
don't know. Life is full of surprises. I 
don't know. 
PLAYBOY: Was that the only time the iden- 
tity switching got to you? 
HOFFMAN: Yes. After two » these 
changes aren't very awkward. I have sev- 
levels of iden Likc now I'm Ab- 
bie, but if a friend camc into this room 
who knew me as Brian, I'd be Abbie and 
Brian both, and when you leave, I'll be 
all Brian—except for what I write and 
lock in the trunk, It gives me an exhilara- 
tion and confidence to realize I can move 
from one role to another. 
PLAYBOY: You seem to be s: 
one sense you're freer now th 
before. 
HOFFMAN: Well, my phone isn't tapped 
for the first time in 15 years, I'm not un- 
der surveillance by three or four agencies. 
There's a difference between bei 
hunted and being watched. Most people 
think it’s the same, but it's very different. 
PLAYBOY: Let's talk a little about those 
15 years. Can you retrace the steps that 
led you into activism? 


ing that in 
an you were 


HOFFMAN: My father always blamed 
Brand 
PLAYBOY: Do you? 


HOFFMAN: Nah. Even back in high school, 
grade school, I was generally the wise guy 
in the class, the troublemaker. I was too 
smart for my own good; if I had had 
some right teachers, it might have ended 
up differently. But the teaching was 


MIEUS. MPORTER: HANS HOLTERBOSCH INC. IW YOR 


| 
| 


| 


PLAYBOY 


76 


abominable. Biology teachers who would 
tell you they knew by looking in your eyes 
whether you'd masturbated that night. An 
English teacher who used expressions like 
“There's no niggers in the woodpile,” 
and, of course, the only black in school 
was in the class. He was class president. 
One of your basic beiges. 

PLAYBOY: Have you ever gone back to 
Worcester? 

HOFFMAN: ОП, sure. I even spoke at Holy 
Cross College and there was a huge turn- 
out. You know, local boy makes bad. 
PLAYBOY: Did you gct into any serious 
trouble in high school? 

HOFFMAN: І was kicked out. I sent that in 
on my Who's Who questionnaire, that I 
was the only Jew expelled from Classical 
High School. 

PLAYBOY: Did they publish it? 

HOFFMAN: No, just all the good shit. 
PLAYBOY: Why were you expelled from 
school? 

HOFFMAN: There had been a series of in- 
cidents—smoking in the boys’ 100m, stuff 
like that. The final kicker was that, for 
English class, 1 wrote a very serious piece 
about why God doesn't exist. E was real 
proud of it, My teacher takes it home to 
read and he comes back and he gocs 
crazy. Starts shaking me and rips the 
ce up. I'm really pissed and we start 
fighting. The other teachers had to pull 
me off. “Hoffie, that's it for you." they 
said. 


r, my parents felt my 
hanging around pool 
halls and bowling allcys, didn't look good 
in the Jewish community, so they got me 
into a private school. And then I went to 
Brandeis. Brandeis and I were ideally 
ed. In 1955, it was seven years old, 
nd that was about my psychologi 
here were tons of great teachers, ra 
lor that time, at Brandeis—Abe Maslow, 
who was my psychology guru; Herbert 
Marcuse; Frank Manuel. ` 
PLAYBOY: You were in college well before 
the campus radicalism of the Sixties, then. 
HOFFMAN: Oh, yeah, the issues were dif- 
ferent. There was the famous door gap 
crisis: How wide should a girl leave the 
door open in the dorm when she was 
having a boy in? Each year you could trace 
how closed the door got, you know what 
1 mean? Finally, by my senior year, they 
allowed you to have the door closed for 
four hours on a Sunday, and the boy and 
girl were allowed to be in bed. Now, of 
course, it’s all reversed. The college wants 
you to close the door and everybody's 
leaving his door open and fucking and 
sucking. 

Anyway, ished at Brandeis and 
went to Berkeley, to study psychology in 
graduate school at the University of Cal- 
ifornia. And that's where 1 went to my 
first demonstration 
PLAYBOY: Was that part of Mario Savio's 
Free Speech Movement? 

HOFFMAN: No, Mario came along later, in 


1961, but that protest was really sct in 
motion by the one I'm talking about, 
which took place in May 1960. It was a 
silent vigil protesting the pending execu- 
tion of Caryl Chessman, Chessman had 
been on death row in San Quentin for 
12 years; he had become a symbol of the 
battle against capital punishment. He 
had been convicted of being a flashlight 
rapist; he allegedly would jump girls in 
the dark, put a flashlight in their face and 
tell them to blow him. One of these 
women went nuts. There were no deaths 
involved in these flashlight blow jobs, 
but he was sentenced to death. 

What happened at the demon- 


tion? 

HOFFMAN: We all stood outside the walls 
of San Qu a bunch of students, some 
celebrities; Shirley сай Marlon 
ndo. We carried signs: THOU SHALT 
LL. I remember the warden of thc 
prison came out and served us coffee and 
ts and gave a speech: He didn't 
ieve in capital punishment, The gov- 


“The issues of the Fifties 
were different. There was the 
famous door-gap crisis: 
How wide should a girl leave 
the door open inthe dormwhen 
she was having a boy in?” 


time and father of th 


present. governor 
of Calilorni ve 
ital punishment, Nobody there be- 
lieved in capital punishment, And at ten 
in the morning, they're in the gas cham- 
ber reading prayers: “May God rest his 
soul.” We went back to Berkeley stunned; 
it Jed us to wonder how things like that 
could come about in a democracy, when 
nobody wanted that person to dic. 
whecls of socicty were set in motion and 
he died. Nobody could stop them. 
PLAYBOY: What came n 
HOFFMAN: Well, the House Un-Am 
Activities Committee went to San Ез 
cisco for one of its Red witch-hunts, and 
there were street riots and police stomp- 
ings and dubbings. For someone edu- 
cated in the American style who had never 
even heard of Sacco and Vanzetti—even 
though the trial was held in my home 
state—it was a revelation, I had nev 
heard of the Rosenbergs, except that the 
whole thing was bad for the Jews. 
I wasn't even taught in high school that 
there was a Depression in this country in 
the Thirties, or about the Civil War and 


а, was saying he didn't bel 


in c 


about the slaves. Nothing about Toe Hill, 
Bill Haywood, feminists. abolitionists, 
none of that. John Brown was a lunatic 
and Dwight Eisenhower was Abraham; 
that’s the education I got. I never knew 
about the Japanese internment camps or 
ny of that stuff. America stood for truth 
nd justice and anybody can grow up to 
be President, and the greatest 
county in the world, expiring from God's 
brow. Then to see those people being 
persecuted by HUAC for their beliefs! 
PLAYBOY: What triggered the riots? 
HOFFMAN: What really pissed everybody 
ОШ was that it was supposed to be a pul» 
lic hearing and people started lining up 
at dawn and found they couldn't get in 
the committee had passed out little white 
cards to members of the D.A.R. and the 
Ame Legion—they were the public 
People started pushing and yelling "Down 
with HUAC,” so the San Francisco goon 
squad was called in, It was a horror show. 
They used water hoses and rapped heads 
and they had a thing called the knee 
bender. They'd put one handcult on your 
wrist and turn it once and youre on 
your knees; a second. turn and it breaks 
your wristbonc. After I left Berkeley, when 
1 was back in Massachuseus working as a 
psychologist at Worcester State. Hospital, 
I saw a movie the Government had made 
of that incident, showing how it had all 
been perpetrated by Communists. 1 was 
furious. 1 jabbed а pen through my hand 
L was so angry. 1 challenged it from the 
audience, “I was there!" I yelled. The 
next day, the Јоса] representative from 
the A.C.L.U. called me and asked if I'd 
be willing to go on tour with the fi 
а counterfilm they had made and speak 
in favor of the abolition of the House Ust 
American Acti Committee. So I did. 
That was my first political involvement. 
1 went around to different clu 
mostly Unitarians, 

Actually, it was the campaign to ban 
the bomb that attracted me to the first 
political candid 
Hughes. He was cha 
tional Committee for пе Nuclear Poli: 
cy] and in 1962 he ran for the Senate iu 
Massachusetts. He was running against 


w 


and 


Kennedy in Massachusetts was 1 
lowing a death wish. I don't think th 
Pope could beat Ted Kennedy in М. 
chusetts. Certainly not John Hancock or 
amuel Adams, and 1 doubt if even the 
Pope could. But the expe 
on that campaign w 
lot about community organizing, zoning 
maps, sociocconom s, all that stuff 
you learn in electoral politics. We had а 
lot of celebrities involved in that cam- 


member trying to get Marilyn Monroe 


ALUXURY SEDAN BASED ON THE BELIEF 


Since the time of the 
Caesars, the inspiration for 
the carriages of the gentry 
has been the blatant, 
unbridled, unabashed pur- 
suit of opulence. 

Opulence often to the 
exclusion of all else: per- 
formance, efficiency, engi- 
neering intelligence. 


igi 
assing acceleration borders on t 
liant." the editors ol Motor Trend 
magazine 


50770 mph, 59 seconds. 


brit 


Even today one sees 
occasional evidence of this 
misguided sense of priorities 
—this basic misunderstand- 
ing of what it is that consti- 
tutes true luxury. 

Opera windows that 
obscure vision. Mammoth 
engines pulling mammoth 
cars. Interiors fashioned 
more along the lines of a === 
Persian Pleasure Palace | |. 
than a serious driving 
machine. Cars made pri-| 
marily for sitting. ` 

At the Bavarian Los 
Motor Works it has S 
always been our conten- 
tion that a car ought to 
be made primarily for 
driving. That when all is 
Said and done, extraor- 
dinary performance is 
the only thing that 
makes an expensive car 
worth the money. 

And, in this age of 
automotive enlighten- 
ment, we believe our 
time has come. ta 

POWER TO SAT- | ^ 
ISFY EVEN THE MOST | 
POWER HUNGRY. 

Beneath the hood 
of the BMW 530i isa 


singularly 

responsive 3-liter, fuel- 
injected engine that has been 
called by no less an authority 
than Road & Track magazine 
“the most refined in-line 
six in the world.” 

Patented triple-hemi- 
spheric, swirl-action com- 
bustion chambers develop, 
remarkable power from 
relatively small 
displacement. 

And seven main 
bearings and twelve 


i225. | Crankshaft counter-bal- 


ance weights give the 
whole operation a tur- 
bine-like smoothness 
that never ceasesto 
astoundeven the experts. 

THE MAN WHO 
CONTROLS CORPORA- 
TIONS OUGHT TO BE 
ABLE TO CONTROL HIS 
OWN CAR. 

If you're accus- 
tomed to the leaning and 
swaying one experiences 
in the conventional lux- 
ury sedan, you will 
thoroughly appreciate 
| the uncanny road hold- 

The 70071. Slalom Test, designed 
by Road& Track magazine lo 
asure lane changing сяра 


IW ran thecourse at a femarka 
51,6 mph. 


THAT ALL OF THE RICH ARE NOT IDLE. 


R 


ing capabilities 
of the BMW 530i. 

Road holding—driver 
control—is largely a furic- 
tion of a car's suspension 
system. 

And, to be a bit blunt, 
BMW gives you a superior 
suspension system. Instead 
of the"solid-rear-axle" sys- 
tems found in all domestic— 
and many foreign—sedans, 
the BMW suspension is fully 


Results of the Motor Trend" 200Ft. 
Circle Test” clearly illustrate the 
superior road holding abilities of the 
BMW. At 828 BMW was still on the 
road, other makes were по! 


independenton all four 
wheels, 

And this, combined with 
amulti-jointed rear axle, 
allows each wheel to adapt 
itself independently to every 
driving and road condition— 
with а smoothness and preci- 
sion that will spoil you for 
any other car. 


A DECIDED LACK ОЕ 
OPERA WINDOW OPULENCE. 

While inside, the BMW 
530i features as long a list of 
luxury items as one could 
sanely require of an automo- 
bile, its luxury is purpose- 


7. ro detectable si 
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PLAYBOY 


78 


involved in the campaign. 

PLAYBOY: Why Marilyn Monroe? 
HOFFMAN: I had read a long interview 
with her in Life magazine and I could 
see she was really down; lots of love prob- 
lems, fame problems, problem problems. 
And, as a. psychologist, which is what I 
was at the time, I looked at that and said, 
"She's gonna kill herself. She needs a po- 
ical cause. She needs the Hughes cam- 
paign and the Hughes campaign needs 
her.” It was on a Saturday afternoon. I 
got to her appointment secretary. I re- 
member talking to her: an elderly woman, 
very protective. And she said Marilyn had 
gone to sleep and she would bring it up 
to her Monday and get back to us. That 
ing. Marilyn Monroe was 
dead. Well, I suppose 1, along with a 
couple of million other American males, 
felt I could have saved Marilyn Monroe; 
it was probably a universal fantasy at the 
time. But certainly she and the Hughes 
campaign would have been an interest- 
ing combination. 

PLAYBOY: What was your next project? 
HOFFMAN: Well, although the main isue 
was nuclear disarmament, that campaign 
brought in many of the civil-rights organ- 
izers who had been working in the South. 
And gradually, civil rights became the 
crux of my involvement. I was а field 
worker for the Student Nonviolent Co- 
ıg Committee, SNCC. We used 
to have a joke in SNCC that nobody was 
a student, that nobody was nonviolent, 
nothing was coordinated and there was 
io fucking committee, so it was a good 
cover. I was also vice-president of CORE, 
the Congress of Racial Equality. I 
traveled in New England, setting up 
oups; I went to Mississippi in 1964 
nd got busted in Jackson. 

PLAYBOY: What for? 

HOFFMAN: Parading without a permit, I 
believe it was. Three thousand people 
were busted and kept in a compound. 
You know, the whites and blacks were so 
segregated at that time in Mississippi that 
they actually spoke different languages. 1 
member you used to walk in some rural 
areas, black enclaves, and the blacks would 
come up, want to touch your skin. They 
were just curious, you know, How did I 


get that color skin? 
1 saw Klan meetings in Mississippi 
with white sheets and flaming crosses; I 


темей in Yazoo City for going 
h a red light and they didn't have 
ed lights in the town at the time. I sat 
a cell in Georgia h a fucking death 
nging over my head for pass- 
ing out leaflets—treason against the state 
of Georgia. I jumped bail in Mississippi, 
bail in Georgia; it was just standard pro- 
cedure. The judge would call you boy, 
spit in the spittoons, throw you into a 


tence h; 


cell with a bunch of locals and give them 
all some liquor and tell them, “This is a 
civilrights worker." You got beat up and 
thrown out. It was an eye opener. In 
one Mississippi town, they had a laugh- 
ing barrel. Blacks wanted to laugh in the 
cemer of town, they had to stick their 
heads in the barrel. 1 remember леп 
they were looking for Goodm: 
ner and Chani the three ci 
ists who were killed, they w 
ging the swamps and came up with five or 
six bodies, black bodies. Anyway, it was 
because of all that that we were trying to 
seat the Freedom Party delegation at At 
lantic City in 1964. And it was there that 
black power became the focal point of 


SNCC organizing. 

PLAYBOY: Why? 

HOFFMAN: Because our idealism was 
crushed. We thought we'd won, And then 


Lyndon Johnson had to make his deal 
with the Southern Congressmen and he 
said, Hubert, if you want to come and 
in the White House, I want you to 
go out and get those fucking niggers olf 


“I remember when they 
were looking for Goodman, 
Schwerner and Chaney, the 
three civil-rights activists 
who were killed, they were 
dragging the swamps and 
came up with five or six 


bodies, black bodies.” 


the Boardwalk, you understand, Hubert? 
A lot of fucking things were twisted, a 
lot of secret sexual shit was pulled out 
and used on delegates, a lot of judgeships 
were dangled. It was the big issue of that 
convention, but the blacks got shoved 
into the back of the bus and the regulars 
got to vote, After that, there was a great 
rupture within the organization and the 
black-power philosophy emerged. 
PLAYBOY: What are your feelings on black 
separatism today? 
HOFFMAN: In any struggle, there has to be 
a moratorium, where you can isolate your- 
self and es Solid base, whether 
your thing ism or counterculture 
k lism. The blacks are 
ic lines now. 
the 


tion 


p along 
Black pow 
dashikis, 
Moslem. I m 
another religion. 
cal, it's feudalistic; what's so good about 
that? It gets all fucked up. They're going 
to Africa and the Africans are laughing 
at them, because they don't wear Afros. 


PLAYBOY: At least one black separatist, 
Eldridge Cleaver, has returned to the 
States to proclaim his allegiance to 
America. Did you know him? 

HOFFMAN: Not really. I met him once and 
all he had to say was. “Can you get me 
some amphetamii But Anita stayed 
with him in North Africa when she went 
over with a group of Yippics. Cleaver 
started assigning Anita her bedmates. 
“You'll shack up with this person,” he 
said, and she got furious. “They're crazy, 
sexist pigs," she told me later, and she's 
not someone who throws around a word 
like crazy lightly. She said Eldridge was 
on a macho power trip; he had bragged 
about shooting guys who tried to fool 
around with his wife, Kathleen, He 
showed people the bloodstains on the 
walls. 

PLAYBOY: Were you working full time 
vith the movement during that period, or 
did you have another job? 

HOFFMAN: In '61, '65, 1 was working as a 
pharmaceuticals salesman. Sold pimple 
medicine. Let me tell you, the dru 
dustry in America hasn't changed since 
the time people were roaming the Far 
West selling snake-bite medicine out of the 
k of a covered wagon. I was sitting 
ight in the middle watching all this shit— 
drugs being sold for three and four dol 
las a boule when the ingredient cost 
something like two cents. It was during 
that period that I dropped а 
PLAYBOY: Where did you get it? 
HOFFMAN: Aldous Huxley had told me 
about LSD back in 1957. And J tried to 
get 1959. I stood in line at a 
clinic in San Francisco, after Herb Caen 
had run an announcement in his column 
in the Chronicle that if anybody wanted 
to take a new experimental drug called 
LSD-95, he would be paid $150 for his 
effort. Jesus, that emptied Berkeley! T 
Bot up about six in the morning, but I 
bout 1500th in line, so In't 
get it until 1965. 
by the United States Army. 

PLAYBOY: The Army turned you on to 
acid? 

HOFFMAN: My roommate from college was 
an Army psychologist, based in Maryland. 
It's been in the news recently that the 
Army was doing all those experiments 
with acid in Maryland. The Army h 
mighty good fucking acid; it was the best 
Ive ever had. 

How often have you 
300 or 400 times? 
HOFFMAN: No way. I'd say 100 times, 
maybe. A hundred times in ten years is 
ten times а year? I haven't taken it that 
much, I think. I take drugs less than 
my friends. 

PLAYBOY: Less than your friend Tim 
Leary. for instance? 

HOFFMAN: Ycah, poor Tim. Always fuck- 
ing up, saying things like, "I'm the first 


taken 


The SEAGRAM'S GIN 
Naked Martini. 


Seagram Distillers Co., N. Y.C. 86 Proof. Distilled Dry Gin. Distilledfrom American Grain. 


PLAYBOY 


80 


god on this planet.” I felt that helping 
him break out of jail was an important 
revolutionary act; he was unfairly con- 
victed. But when he informed on the 
people who helped him out, I could have 
killed him. I'd have beat the living shit 
out of him. 

Anyway Im not so prolSD these 
days. I don't recommend it to everybody. 
Or I advocate people taking it once in 
their ne, period. If I do have an 
addiction, it's to sex. 

PLAYBOY: Don't acid and sex mix well? 
HOFFMAN: Yes, and so do sex and revolu- 
tion. 

PLAYBOY: Did your first acid experience 
have any lasting cffect on your Ше? 
HOFFMAN: It definitely affected my life. 
Alter my first trip, ] decided I was going 
to be a full-time activist; at the time, I 
a bowling hustler besides working for 
. 1 also decided to get divorced 
from my first wife, Sheila, leave my cot- 
tage with the picket fence, all that. My 
trip ended, actually, with my giving a 
civil-rights speech in a church, which 
some people say was pretty good. Ai 
just left me with a wild feeling; I talked 
10 God on the phone, long distance. 
Collect. 

PLAYBOY: God? 

HOFFMAN: God. I've talked to God every 
time I've taken acid. 

PLAYBOY: What does God say? 

HOFFMAN: I'm not sure God gets to say 
all that much. It's more, “Ya, ya, right. 
Who's paying for the call, Me or you?” 
The Virgin Mary floated down from a 
doud and I got horny. It was a lot of 
fun. The second trip was a bad trip. 
PLAYBOY: In what way? 

HOFFMAN: A minister chased me around. 
And then a lot of cops came in. There 
are always a lot of cops coming into my 
acid wips, In fact, the week before the 
cocaine bust, I had taken an acid trip 
in a sexualexperimentation. situation — 
there's a little tidbit for your readers; 
after all, this interview isn't for Popular 
Mechanics. 1 envisioned the entire co- 
caine bust from beginning to end—police 
coming in through the windows, the walls, 
pounding on the doors. I related sex to 
complications with the police, apparently. 
PLAYBOY: What was the sexual experi- 
mentation about? 

HOFFMAN: I knew you'd ask that. At one 
point in our lives, Anita and I decided 
to reverse roles. 1 took care of the baby 
and she went into the city every day. 
We wanted to explore the other halves 
of ourselves, the masculine and feminine 
halves, and we used sex as a kind of 
breakthrough. My head is not there now; 
I think of myself as a monogamous biga- 
mist. I'm still married to Anita, but I'm 
living with Angel. Everything is a phase, 
and А and I had lots of sexual ex 
perimentation with other people during 


that period. We both tried every kind of 
sex. The problem with sex for a revolu- 
tionary is that it takes up so much fucking 
time, discussing it and thinking about it. 
Ісу all-enco we tried 
it as a learning experience. 

PLAYBOY: Did you learn anything? 
HOFFMAN: Yes, I experienced what I be- 
lieved to be a female orgasm. 

PLAYBOY: What was it like? 

HOFFMAN: Longer than a male’s and like 
an ocean wave. Male orgasm is like climb- 
ing a mountain; when you're at the top, 
you shoot your jism. The female was 
more like waves with no real crescendo. 
PLAYBOY: How did you achieve it? 
HOFFMAN: I scrubbed floors, I washed 
dishes, 1 had a vasectomy, 1 had become 
more or less a houschusband and had all 
the fantasies that go along with that. 
Anita was off developing her own career, 
and when she came back and we made 
love, I was more passive than active. But 
we've never had a sick relationship, never. 
In fact, Germaine Greer once said ours 
was the only marriage worth saving in 
America. 


“ The week before my cocaine 

bust, I had taken an acid trip. 

... I envisioned the entire 

bust from beginning to end— 

police coming in through the 

windows, the walls, pound- 
ing on the doors.” 


PLAYBOY: Why did you decide to have 
a vasectomy? 

HOFFMAN: I had a doctor cut into my balls 
as a political act. It was a statement of 
conscience; it says you're not going to let 
your sperm scatter through the world, 
come what may. One reason I got it was 
because there were a lot of celebrity 
fuckers—not fucking for the fucking, just 
fucking to have a drop of the revolution 
in them—to get pregnant. 

PLAYBOY: They wanted to fuck you in 
order to y by Abbi usd 
HOFFMAN: Ycah. When you're 
around, you don't stop and ate "pid 
you take your pill today?" And I'm a sex- 
ual maniac, if there is such a thing. 
PLAYBOY: When did you lose your 
virginity? 

HOFFMAN: You're not talking about group 
jerking off to see if you can fill a milk 
boule in a month? We did that once, a 
bunch of us kids. And we had jerk-off 
contests to see who could come the 
qui 
PLAYBOY: Did you win? 

HOFFMAN: This does belong in Popular 


Mechanics. Sure I won; I'm very com- 
petitive, Sixteen. seconds. But they had 
to turn their backs. I was shy. 

PLAYBOY: Do you have any particular 
theories on sex education? 
HOFFMAN: Well, for one thing, I think it's 
OK to let kids watch their parents fuck- 
ing. The conventional wisdom that it 
will scare them, that they'll think their 
parents are fighting when they're making 
love, is just way off the wall. We let 
americi crawl around to satisfy his curi- 
osity about sex. Let him do everything, 
within limits. 

PLAYBOY: Getting back to politics, what 
changed you from a more or less con- 
ventional activist into a radical one? 
HOFFMAN: I have to thank some cops at 
the Newport Jazz Festival in 1966 for 
that. Stokely was there, a bunch of SNCC 
workers, and we were handing out leaflets. 
Some redneck cops decided to rip our 
booth apart. They chased us in the dark, 
pounded the shit out of us, hauled us off 
L I was pounded into radicalism, 
beaten into it by the police. That pig 
was telling me cxactly what to do: He 
told me to get divorced, to drop more 
acid, to quit work and go to New York 
and organize 100 hours a day; that’s what 
he told me with the fucking club. So 
that's what 1 did. 

PLAYBOY: Weren't you actually on thc 
payroll of the city of New York at one 
point? 

HOFFMAN: That was later, i 
of ‘68. They had tha 
putting a couple of activists on the pay- 
roll to be a link between the and the 
hippies and runaways who were wander- 
ing around the streets at the time. Actu- 
ally, we ended up throwing the money 
we camed from that job onto the floor 
of the New York Stock Exchange. It 
brought the big board to a halt. People 
scrambling, fighting for the bucks. Then 
we got fired. 

PLAYBOY: By then, you'd formed Yippie, 
the Youth International Party, n't 
you? 

HOFFMAN: Wait, I th 
ground piss. 
PLAYBOY: Now that you're back, why did 
you decide to form Yippie? 

HOFFMAN: I always added an exclamation 
point at the end—Yippie!—to express а 
certain exuberance, joy, optimism, Our 
main goal was to end the war. Asa m 


the summer 


k ГП take an under- 


ns, 


we dedded to find a left wing to the 
hippie movement and use that as a tech- 
nique to broaden young people's under- 
standing of why they were running away 
from home, why they were upset with 
society, why they couldn't smoke mari- 
ything 


juana, why they couldn't lea 
interesting in school, why everything was 
boring, why songs they liked were being 

(continued on page 218) 


(©1976 R.3. REYNOLDS TORACCO CO. 


 lenjovy smoking. 
and you dont? p 


It's got to be my cigarette. Salem 
gives me great taste. And enough fresh 
menthol to keep things interesting. 4 

You'd enjoy smoking, too, if 


ERRY FORD HATES AMERICA, Not 
all of America. He keeps tucked 
like an armored pocket Bible 
next to his heart a xenophobic 
compendium of the glories һе imagines 
she wore їп an imaginary golden age. 
When the flag flew high over a nation 
of honest yeomen, when government 
was best because it governed least, 
when honcst folk spurned cities because 
cities bred the spirochetes of sin, when 
virtues were plain, skins white, values 
puritan and businesses mom and pop, 
when the lazy poor deservedly starved 
and the inferior shuflling blacks knew 
their place and paradise was country- 
dub golf on a sunny Saturday after- 
noon—true believer that he is, this is the 
America that he adores. But the America 
of conflict and diversity, of. poverty and 
es, of promised equality and govern- 
ment brave and strong enough to guaran 
tee it, of massive forces massively joined 
in a struggle for the future—the America 
that is the real and contentious and 
idealistic and unfinished place in which 
we live—Jerry Ford hates, with the feroc- 
ity of a man whose deepest childhood 
fears have not yet, at 63, been laid to rest. 
If he has seemed otherwise, if he has 
seemed a genial and modest man, his 
voting record as a Congressman and 
his priorities as President belie that dis- 
simulation. Across 28 years of elective 
and appointive office, Ford has worked 
unrelentingly to oppose those Govern- 
ment programs designed to aid the weak, 
the disenfranchised, the poor and the 
disadvantaged. While promoting the 
largest possible defense budgets, he has 


article By RICHARD RHODES 


maneuvered to cripple, gut or void every 
civil rights bill he has seen introduced. 
He's against food stamps. He's against 
free school lunches for the children of 
the poor. He's against national health 
insurance, public housing, aid to edu- 
cation, rent subsidy, unemployment 
compensation for farmworkers, increased 
Social Security benefits, an increased 
minimum wage, support for mass transit 
from the Highway Trust, abortion on 
demand, busing. strip-mining regulation, 
gasoline rationing, “liberal” Supreme 
Court decisions, public works. He prefers 
unemployment to inflation. He's in 
favor of school prayers and the CIA. 
These are the classic positions of an 
Old Guard Republican, and it would be 
easy to pass them off as the automatic 
reflexes of a dutiful conservative. But no 
human being is merely an automaton; 
we are what we are because of choices we 
make among the pressures and oppor- 
tunities that contend within us. "People," 
wrote Ralph Waldo Emerson, "seem not 
opinion of the world 
also a confession of character." While 
Richard Nixon was able to believe, or 
pretend to believe, whatever suited his 
immediate needs, Terry Ford's Old Guard 
positions have held steady through 
decades of time and change, because they 
are deeply entrenched convictions. He has 
never wavered from them and he doesn't 
waver from them now. They must there- 
fore relate to his own ecological balance, 
10 the dynamics of his shadowy interior. 
There is this about the Anglo-Saxon 
voice, scarred sequela of the Anglo Saxon 


THE DEMONS OF 
GERALD FORD 


HE MAY SEEM AS BLAND AS 
OATMEAL, BUT HE MIGHT WELL 
BE THE MOST TROUBIED 
PRESIDENT IN OUR LIFETIME 


ILLUSTRATION BY ALEX EBEL 


morality that aborted it: its quality of 
strain. Put to service for its many official 
uses—counting cadence, propounding 
goals, condemning the faint of heart, € 
horting ambition, praising the American 
way of life—it comes out thin, pitched 
too high, without range unless dcliber- 
ately trained. And the f: blue-eyed, 
broad-bottomed men, the recent masters 
of the world, who early train their bodies 
to hardness, invariably neglect its t 
ing. as if in the midst of their stylized 
manhood, a manhood as circumscribed 
by fear as a life of crime, they want to 
leave a desperate clue. 

Gerald Rudolph Ford, a.k.a. Gerald 
Rudolf Ford, Jr, a.k.a. Leslie Lynch 
King, Jr.—five-fingers bowlegged, accord- 
ing to his sometime tailor (and imagine 
him suffering those tailor fingers between 
his legs), and 38th President of the 
United States by vote of the House of 
Representatives, where he served аз 
water boy and center for 25 years—has 
such a voice. Compare Kennedy's nasal 
arrogance, Johnson's bully bellow, 
Nixon's oleaginous announcercse. Even 
Eisenhower, another Anglo-Saxon but 
hardened to confidence in the cowboy 
West, spoke more forcefully, though 
something burbled caution going by. To 
consider Jerry, foursquare, fundamental 
Jerry, and overlook the pathology of his 
Calvinistic larynx is to misunderstand the 
forces and conflicts that made him what 
he is; and since he is temporarily 
charge of our mutual destinies, we mis- 
understand him to our discomfiture if 
not to our immediate peril. Like all our 
Presidents, perhaps like all men every- 
where, he lives behind a mask; but un- 
like most of our Presidents, he didn't 
design that mask himself. He doesn’t 
swear in public, but he doesn't swear in 
the privacy of the Oval Office, either. The 
God for whose judging, all-seeing cycs the 
craftsmen of the Middle Ages finished 
and decorated cven the sealed interiors 
of chests and cathedral walls has еуез for 
him; and sometimes at noon—today at 
the pinnacle of his power as in quicter 
days past—with Machiavellian Mel Laird 
kneeling improbably at his side, Gerald 
Ford prays aloud for guidance. knowing 
that tape recorders far more sensitive 
than the ones Nixon used are running 
without switch or deletion high above 
the famous desk. The Presidency is a 
terrible burden, or so we have been told; 
but more terrible by far is the burden 
of the true believer, and there's a live 
one in the White House now. 

He wasn't always so. Look at Jerry 
when he was three. He's sitting on a 
wicker chair beside a wicker couch on a 


83 


PLAYBOY 


1d Rapids front porch, his feet in 
‚ lace-up shoes. Over his solid baby 
body he wears white short pants and a 
white blouse with crisp cuffs and a white 
key for nd aft, a sailor suit without 
the contrasting piping—the darling of 
his mother, the favored first-born son. 

The boy's head and face arrest us. His 
mouth open, he looks back over hiis г 
shoulder at someone outside the photo- 
graph's frame. A round head. A mouthful 
of sturdy teeth. Hair pale as straw cut 
in a Dutch-boy bob, bangs halfway down 
the wide brow clipped straight across 
the front. Below the bangs, lively eyes 
squinted against the sun. Health, hap] 
ness, innocence and physical force surpris- 
ing in a child so young: Buster Brown 

But the photograph deceives, as all the 
later childhood — photographs—somber 
when others are smiling, aggressive when 
others are content, wary when others are 
at case—do not. Because at three, hardly 
out of diapers, this Buster Brown has 
already lost a father and a name, has 
been stripped of the identity awarded 
him at birth and forced to assume a 
second identity necessarily and forever 
less secure, has been bereaved by deser- 
tion and almost immediately thereafter 
inwardly shamed. If you think I make 
too much of this, wait and see. 

He was born Leslie Lynch King. Jr., 
on July 14, 1913, in Omaha, 
ka, the Sun conjunct Neptune in 
Cancer within a close orb. His mother, 
«ner King of Grand Rapids, 
was nearly beautiful, plump 
ner of the day 
father, his mysterious fathe 
trader from Wyoming, is as sh: 
fascinating a man as Bill's diamond- 
mining uncle in Death of a Salesman, the 
daredevil fellow Willy Loman never was. 
What took young, single, sexy Dorothy 
Gardner to Omaha in 1911 or 1912? Did 
she run away from home? Why did she 
marry a wanderer like Leslie King? The 
man must have been exotic, romantic, a 
cowboy, and the woman, "lots of fun and 
very softhearted,” in the words of her 
first-born son, the woman out on the wild 
packinghouse town, would have been an 
casy mark for that. 

She never told her son why the mar- 
riage failed (and, more to the point. 
he never seriously asked). “Things ju 
didn't work out" is the most he remem- 
bers her ever having said. Dorothy King 
was divorced in 1915 and went back to 
Grand Rapids with two-year-old Leslie, 
Jr. in tow, and there met and almost 
mediately wried Gerald Rudolf 
Ford. fourth child and only son in a 
y of four, whose father had died 
when he was young, a paint-and-varnish 
salesman in a city of booming furniture 
factories. 

And then the curious and cataclysmic 
event, the r g of Dorothy's son. 
Jerry says he knew it only later, but he 
lies, however unintentionally. Whatever 


his mother called him, little Leslie would 
have known his real name and his real 
father before the age of two, would there- 
fore have known when his first full name 
was taken away. We walk by then and 
talk by then; we remember decply, even 
scaringly. by then, though later we for- 
get deeply, too; and fathers who are 
1 enough to name u 
to put th as Leslie King 
did, aren't likely to keep it secret. 

Erasing that first childhood name, giv- 
ing the boy a new identity, an act 
of generosity on Dad Ford's part, proof 
to Dorothy of h : He married her 
and accepted the child as his own. He 
went beyond steplatherhood and legally 
dopted the boy. But Gerald Ford, 
Junior? He might have named little Les- 
Tom or Dick or Jii as he later 
did his three natural sons; Leslie wasn't 
rst-born son; he was the son of а 
other marti, nother man. Greater 
love, then? Repair, one generation ri 
moved, of Dad Ford's own early loss? All 
nly, to his great credit, but 
ly also some flicker of shame, in 
the pious Middle West of the early 20th 
Century, at his wife's divorce. And of 
jealousy that another had impregnated 
her first. And of that malign spirit of 
expropriation. extending even to human 
flesh, that lies within the Anglo-Saxon 
heart. АП these ambivalences the tow- 
headed Buster Brown had to ravel, before 
his feet had even touched the floor 

The int company—Ford Paint & 
Varnish, manufacturing and distribu- 
tion—was established in Grand Rapids, 
the fur of the world, 
1929, three weeks before the Wall Street 

Dad Ford started his company 
multaneously moved his family to 
an expensive house in East Grand 
Rapids. Who starts a business and buys 
а new house the same year? A cockey 
optimist, а man whose wife wants visible 
wealth? The Depression almost wiped 
them out. Dad Ford couldn't handle the 
mortgage on the house. He forfeited 
house and down payment, too, and 
noved to a smaller residence in а poorer 
section of town. Jerry—Junie, as he wa 
called then, for Junior—had to petition 
the school board and ride the bus to 
stay South High, with who knows 
what smoldering sense of 
He hated busing then; he hates it now. 
But Jerry was never afflicted with the 
stresses in his family house; he learned 
10 handle stress in other ways. 

How did Junie grow? By being a cer 
ain kind of boy—an outdoor boy, an 
athletic boy, a boy with a problem. Like 
George Washington, Junie Ford had his 
cherry tree. "He was a strong-willed 
tle boy former neighbor recalls. “If 
he didn't want you to climb his cherry 
tree at the particular moment, no onc 
did, He would climb up it and say, 
“My wee.’ There would be perhaps six 
or seven of us, older than he was, but 


vai 


ed 


he could hold his own. But Alice [the 
neighbor's twin sister] went up anyway, 
5o he stepped on her hand. Actually, he 
stood on her hand. until she screamed. 
Then he took his foot off. A very head- 
strong little boy 
My very young years,” he told novel. 
ist John Hersey during the week he 
allowed Hersey to wander with him 
through the White House, "I had a ter 
rible temper. My mother detected it and 
started to get me away [rom being upset 
and flying off the handle. She d a 
great knack of ridicule one time and 
humor the next. or cajoling, to teach 
me that anger—visible, physical anger— 
was not the way to meet problems. . 
She taught me that you don't respond i 
wild, uncontrolled way: you just better 
sit back and take a hard look and try 
10 make the best decision without letting 
emotions be the controlling factor." Se 
sitized to overcontrol by his moth 
fear of anger, ridiculed, humored 
cajoled, Jerry had to put his feel 
somewhere. Where did hi 
Football. Ford's youthful fort 
light of his metaphor and the school of 
his life. Of the three modest articles and 
one co-authored book that throughout 
his entire professional lifetime 
only written words to be published in 
his name, one, written with John Under- 
wood and published in Sports Zlustrated, 
is titled In Defense of the Competitive 
Urge, and the then-Vice-President 
offers a remarkable opinion: “Broadly 
speaking, outside of a national character 
nd an educated society, there are few 


things more important to a country's 
growth and well-being than competitiv 


athletics" Since competitive athletics 
have had almost nothing to do with any 
country's growth, least of all that of the 
United States, Ford can only be talking 
bout himself. 

So: football, where aggression, anger, 
a very visible and socially acceptabl 
hatred of the other—the timid, the less 
able, the unlucky, the weak—carries the 
day. Ford pur his feelings through the 
psychic projector and they beamed out 
contempt for the weak. South High foot- 
1 coach Clifford Gettings was the be- 
ginning of a line of bully father figures to 
whom Ford would claim loyalty and, 
unlike the later ones—men like the late 
Senator Arthur Vandenberg of Michigan, 
who Ford claims sponsored him for Con 
whose records give no indication 
of anything more than the most formal of 
connections, men like Richard Nixon— 
Gettings at least claims loyalty to Jerry 
in retu 

Because he admires force, Ford likes 
to remember his stepfather as а tough 
man, but his brothers disagree. Brother 
Dick recalls only one instance of physical 
punishment in the Ford house, when 
Tom came home late for dinner and 
got a ruler broken over his rear. Coach 

(continued on page 209) 


“Personally, I've always subscribed to the Big Bang Theory 
of the origin of the universe.” 


arbara’s a free spirit who refuses to be confined—either in 
М locale or in ottire. She spent the winter in her house in 
Beverly Hills but finds that milieu “very narrow. | try to do 
something every yeor to moke life a little richer, fuller. 
This yeor I'll go to either Bali or the Greek islands, or 
to Colorado for cross-country skiing. Perhaps I'll join 
some friends who are planning to sail up the Nile on 
а dhow." As for clothes: “I’m not all that interested 
in them... except for very clingy, very sensuous 
evening gowns. | love them. Preferably in white." 


By BRUCE WILLIAMSON 


SHE ARRIVES at Kennedy Airport 
via jet from London and heads 
start turning as if she'd never 
been away. Brunette, surpris- 
ingly petite, with brown-velvet 
eyes—and dressed in trim green- 
ish denim travel togs that she calls 
*my James Dean boiler suit"— 
Barbara Parkins enjoys the in- 
destructible celebrity of having 
played Betty Anderson on Реу- 
ion Place for five long years 
(1964-1969). Ryan O'Neal got 
her pregnant and made Rodney 
à household word. Mia Farrow 
dropped out as Allison to marry 
Frank Sinatra. Barbara collected. 
the wages of sin to the bitter 
end. Everyone knows that, and 
anyone who managed to miss her 
on TV's first prime-time adult 
soap opera probably remembers 
her movie debut as the high- 
fashion heroine of Jacqueline 
Susann's Valley of the Dolls. 
Barbara has been thrust back 
into the limelight as co-star with 
Roger Moore and Lee Marvin in 
| Shout at the Devil, a $9,500,000 
| African adventure epic directed 
(text continued on page 90) 


ive years on the super soap. 
“peyton place" far behind 
bright and talented 
kins knows exactly 
is and where she's going 


Shout at the Devil, a $9,500,000 adventure epic set in Africa, 
teams Barbara with Roger Moore (os her lover) and Lee Marvin 
les her father). They're pre-World War One ivory poachers. 


he muses about the high cost of fome — U.S. style 
‘When you're one of those actresses who are unmar- 
ried, people love to know whor's going on in your 
private life. Porticularly in L.A. If you go any- 
where, with enyone, they start to speculote ond 
comment on it. In London, people oren't all 

that interested.” Perhops they’re just more 

polite, Barbaro is universally recognized; her 
old Peyton Pioce televi series hos been shown 
in some 75 countries ond is still going strong. 


PLAYBOY 


90 


by Peter Hunt and scheduled for fall re- 
lease, But the years between Peyton Place, 
Dolls and Devil have hardly been idle. 
She recenuy appeared with Lee Remick 
as the kid sister of Winston Churchill's 
mother in Jennie, a highly acclaimed 
British TV dramatic series. Earlier, she 
made The Kremlin Letter and The 
Mephisto Waltz and joined Faye Dun- 
away ina French thriller ("total disaster") 
they would both like to forget. “I went to 
England some five years ago for the 
wedding of Roman Polanski and Sharon 
‘Tate and just decided to stay," says the 
Canadian-born beauty. “I feel tremen- 
dously at home there, always have. Be- 
sides, my great-great-grandfather was a 
mattress maker in England.” 

More than a pretty face, Barbara has a 
brain she's made a habit of using, a tart 
tongue she uses on occasion, plus firmly 
held o ns about quite a number of 
things. During a brief sojourn to the outer 
shores of Long Island for a photo session 
with PLAvBov's Richard Fegley, she was 
ogled, flattered and smiled at in fond re- 
membrance by total strangers who be- 
haved like charter members of a regional 
chapter of the Parkins international fan 
dub. "Here's to your camera and my 
body, and let's not forget the rest of me" 
was her toas to Fegley while lifting a 
glass of light dry sherry, which marks the 
outer limits of her alcoholic intake. She 
doesn't smoke, either, though that's not 
one of the things she feels it important 
for the world to know. 

Lest we forget, she would rather put 
into the record that she began her career 
as a ballerina and still proudly recalls 
piroueting to Gershwin's Rhapsody їп 
Blue with a ballet company in Vancouver. 
"The most unexpected bit of Parkins lore, 
however, is the revelation that Barbara, 
while still in her teens—before Peyton 
Place but after she moved to L.A. to start 
knocking on casting directors’ doors— 
was the nimble dancing partner of Don- 
ald O'Connor, moviedom's once and 
former musical-comedy whiz kid. “A cou- 
ple of agents saw me and next thing I 
knew, I was featured with Donald, tapping 
away on a threemonth song-and-dance 
tour. One of the numbers we did together 
was a soft-shoe Me and My Shadow. All in 
all, it was a marvelous experience." 

Giving interviews rates low on the list 
of Barbara's favorite ways to pass the time. 
And she knows precisely why. "Inevitably, 
one of the first questions every interview- 
er asks me is: What about your love 
affairs? Followed by: What about Omar 
Sharif? Well, I'd like to put it straight. 
We met in the commissary at Fox while 
he was making Ghe and I was doing 
Peyton Place. He asked me out. We 
had а lovely evening: then the studio 
wanted us to attend a big premiere to- 
gether. From then on, it was reported as 


a continuous, flaming love affair between 
me and the most sexual, sought-after man 
since Valentino. And it was a complete 
myth, fabricated in the press. He's a very 
intelligent, interesting man, but we had 
no real relationship. Nothing, just total 
Hollywood gosip. And that takes care 
of Omar.” 

When Barbara puts a period on a sen- 
tence to close a subject, the subject stays 
closed. Cross-examination seems pointless, 
anyway, with a lady ready, willing and 
eloquent enough to take the stand alone. 
Being an actress, she responded with 
verve to the challenge of a soliloquy— 
impromptu frec-associating on a host of 
topics from A to Z. So here's Barbara 
herself, to the lette: 

“A is for Africa, Arabs, astrology . . . 
oh, my God. Well, 1 can say a lot about 
Africa, meaning East Africa . . . not 
South Africa, where Shout at the Devil 
was made. We were very isolated there 
and South Africa did not impress me as 
a place I'd ever go back to. But a 
couple of years ago, I was sitting at home 
in L.A.—very bored and splitting up with 
a man I'd been with for two years—and 
І decided I just had to get away. So I 
called up a friend of mine who was pro- 
ducing Born Free on television and said 
I'd love to do an episode of the show. He 
said fine, so I got on a plane for Nairobi. 
While the show itself was horrible—very 
poorly produced and directed ту first 
experience there was spectacular. We 
met a tribe called the Turkana, cousins 
of the Masai, and I stayed two weeks with 
them, listening to their music, learning 
their dances. They're beautiful human 
beings, with an inner harmony that 
Westerners seldom understand. In fact, 
1 fell in love with one of them, a black 
named Rojo. We had a little romance 
going—which is a perfect way to be drawn 
into their cirde and be fully accepted. 
Later I sent him a photograph of us danc- 
ing together. He'd never seen a photo- 
graph... 

"B is for beauty, Bertolucci, Britain. 
It's not for me to talk about being beauti- 
ful or being thought beautiful. Anyway, 
I have one eye smaller than the other 
and this crooked nose. A man can make 
me feel beautiful if I'm in love. And 1 
admire beautiful women but not those 
flawless, chiseled beauties. Someone like 
Anouk Aimée is beautiful but doesn't 
have perfect features. Dominique Sanda 
has an aura of beauty about her; that's 
what registers. 

"C brings me to critic. 1 think too 
many get carried away with themselves. I 
respect Charles Champlin in LA, who 
writes fair, intelligent criticism. I don't 
respect someone like Rex Reed, who is 
very selforiented and criticizes personali- 
ties instead of appraising an actor's work. 
So far, in my own career, I don't feel I've 


done anything important enough—or 
anything disastrous enough—to provoke 
heated criticism. I wouldn't mind either 
of the two extremes, actually. I look. for- 
ward to that. 

“D is for dance . . . and working with 
good directors. I'd love to work with a 
real actor's director—Bertohicci or Fran- 
cis Ford Coppola, or Truffaut, whom I 
think of as a wonderful woman's director. 
Most of all, I'd love to do a Ginger 
Rogers-Fred Astaire-type film, a lively 
song-and-dance show. I'd give anything to 
do that. 

“E? The big E is ecology, I suppose. 1 
wish people coukl be made aware that 
we're destroying the earth. We get so 
tuned away, especially in big cities, 1 
wonder how many of us could go back 
to living with simple necessities if some- 
thing terrible happened. . . . My trips 
to Africa made me think seriously about 
thi 


'—аһ, yes, the future. I have plans 
for the future. A house in the English or 
French coun le. Marriage and chil 
dren, in due time. Then someday, when 
Ive put my old man under the sod— 
whoever he may be—I'll open а little 


? Well, I don't believe in God. I 
don't believe in an afterlife, so I want to 
fun and get as much as possible out 
life before I pass on. I wish 1 could 
believe more in the goodness of man. I 
might add that I'm totally against guns 
and hate gossip—a complete waste of 


ds for heaven and hell—right 
here on earth, as 1 was saying. Hmmm. 
Hostilities? I'm not aware of any in my- 
self. Horror films? Never watch them. 1 
don't consider myself a highbrow, though. 
I've tried reading Shakespeare, for exam- 
ple, and don't enjoy it. I find it very . .. 
kind of studied and remote. 

“Lis the first-person pronoun, or impos- 
sible dreams. 1 don't recognize impossible 
dreams. Anything is possible. 

“J—I love watching Mick Jagger. I like 
men with a strong female aspect to them. 
"That male-female thing is very appealing. 
either in a man or in a woman. Though 
the American ideal is to be strongly one 
way or the other, that's less true in Europe. 
Even bisexuality is OK if you're simply a 
sexual being, without guilt, who happens 
to appreciate either sex. If you can handle 
that. I've known quite a few people 
who do. 

“K—Kennedy, Kennedy. I adored John 
Kennedy. Maybe he wasn't a great politi- 
cian, but we're learning more and more 
that we don't always need politic We 
need people we respond to emotionally, 
people with charisma, whom we'll rush 
home to watch on television, I also adore 
Buster Keaton films. as an antidote to all 
the basically negative, heavy things in the 
(concluded on page 157) 


the new super-8 movie cameras аге the noxt-bost thing to what the big boys 
use, with sound, zoom and other professional options right at your finger tips 


modern living By DON SUTHERLAND ховору xwows when the term home movies became dirty 
words, but one gets the impression that body odor and belching at dinner parties are now more acceptable than 
“Hey, wanna see my films?” Given the once-upon-a-time limitations of 8mm movie equipment, such a notion is not 
entirely unfounded. But a new day is upon us. While the stereotype of the somnolent living-room audience 
is not necessarily a thing of the past, neither is it an inevitability. The wonders of technology have made the top 
super-8 cameras the most flexible and capable motion-picture-recording instruments ever made. The things they 
сап do may even exceed the present roamings of most people's imaginations, but little matter—live with them 
awhile and they're bound to spark something. They can make you eloquent in the visual language of cinema and 
put you in command of the most elaborate techniques; they let you film the unfilmable and capture sights such as 
you've never before seen. How do you do it? Just aim and shoot. 

The cameras under discussion are not the cheapie specials found in a discount-house circular. You get what you 
pay for, and in this category of supersophisticated equipment, you pay $400 and up—way up. But the potential 
return on your investment can be correspondingly high and can take many forms. If it’s glamor and glory you seek, 
cameras like these might put you in showbiz; super-8 is now used routinely on TV, while in a theater it can 
be splashed across a 20-foot screen. Or if your urge is to express the innermost poetic murmurings of your soul, the 
versatility of this hardware outstrips that of even the vastly more expensive 16mm and 35mm cameras. Or maybe 
you're just a hobbyist looking for something to keep you off the streets. If so, you'll (continued on page 149) 


Sankyo's XL-40S 
sound camera can shaot 
under normal indoor 
conditions without 
movie lights; features 

а mocro zoom lens for 
ultraclose-ups, $440, 
plus optional telecon- 
verter lens, $90, and a 
telescopic condenser 
microphone that mounts 
onto camera, $79.95. 


Elmo's 6005 incorporates all information 
required for sound/silent shooting into the 
view finder; features a unique device that 
prevents the camera from recording any start/ 
stop click noise and allows for sound moni- 
toring before and during operation, $439.95. 


Beaulieu 50085, when coupled with an 
Angenieux 680mm zoom, is truly professional 
equipment; with single and double sound sys- 
tems, plus one-pulse-per-frame synch sound 
capability and a device that limits zooming 
fram 6 to 40mm, by Hervic, $2395 with lens. 


ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN YOUSSI 


Minolta Avtopak-8 D12 features built-in 
macrofilming copobility, 12X power zoom, 
а variable-sector rotary shutter for automatic 
fade-ins and -outs, plus automatic lap dis- 
solves, seven filming speeds and assorted ac- 
cessories, $924 complete, including fitted case. 


PLAYBOY 


TANS CON AMORE continued pom page on 


pages one day last fall, I came across a 
story about a big tournament in Madrid. 
Panatta had made the finals, putting out 
Guillermo Vilas 6-3, 6—4 and Bjórn Borg 
in three sets to get there. The next day, 
he lost to Jan. Kodes in a bitterly con- 
tested match. 

After that, I began to look for him 
and his name kept popping up here and 
there. In Barcelona, he got to the finals 
again, creaming Manuel Orantes in the 
quarter-finals 6-1, 6-2, before losing to 
Borg. In Stockholm, he beat Arthur Ashe 
in straight sets to get to the finals against 
Jimmy Connors, then won the tourna- 
ment against Jimmy in three with a bar- 
rage of overheads and service aces that 
dazzled a screaming public. Although 
he was beaten later in the year in the 
Masters by Orantes (6-4, 7-6), Ashe 
(1-6, 6-3) and Ше Nastase (7-6, 3-6, 
6-0) the stories ] read indicated that 
cach of these matches could have gone 
either way. 

Clearly, Panatta had somehow gotten 
his act together; but what about Ber- 
tolucci? I wrote to a tennis playing 
friend of mine in Rome to ask about 
him and got the following reply: “Paolo 
had his usual indifierent year abroad, but 
in Italy he was amazing. He won a num- 
ber of tournaments and in the Italian 
championship he had Adriano down 
3-1 in the fifth set before losing. You 
know Paolo—he's so Italian he's one 
kind of player here and another kind 
abroad. You remember Stockholm." 

How could I ever forget Stockholm? 
"That was in April of 1975 and I'd gone 
there, on my way home, t0 watch Adriano 
and Paolo play. The occasion was the 
ninth and last in the series of. World 
Championship "Tennis tournaments. for 
their group leading up to the finals in 
Mexico City and Dallas. Panatta and 
Bertolucci were out of the singles race, 
but they still had a chance 10 make the 
doubles play-offs and 1 assumed they'd 
probably get there, as I'd already seen 
them demolish Bob Hewitt and Frew 
McMillan, the prides of South Africa, 
earlier on the tour. I was looking forward 
to secing them do so and to writing about 
it. I wasn't prepared for all the fun and 
games. 

When the ltalians arrived in Stock- 
holm, they did what they always do 
when they hit a strange town: They 
went straight to their hotel, stripped to 
their underwear, turned on the TV set 
and called room service. "Yes," Panatta 
said to the startled girl who took their 
order, “that is eight hamburgers, four 
hot chocolates, two double orders of 
toast and eggs scrambled and six Coca 
Colas for my friend Bertolucci, who 
very short and fat and very ugly and likes 
to drink this filth, thank you very much.” 
The girl who arrived with their order 
20 minutes later found them wrestling 


on the floor in front of the TV set, 
while on the screen Candy Bergen seemed 

bout to be raped in color by four 
sullen-looking Indians. "Yes," Panatta 
said, as he эй 1 the check and handed 
it to the blushing waitress, who had a 
hard time keeping her eyes off his 
Jockey shorts, "that is very nice, thank 
you very much. Do not come back for 
the table, because my friend Bertolucci, 
who is also very lazy, will be asleep. We 
will push the table into the hall, capito, 


Dickie Dillon, then W.C.T.'s man in 
Europe, was glad to hear that the 
Italians were town, but he was still 
irritated by their previous behavior. They 
had ducked out of Munich, Monte Carlo 
and Johannesburg on one pretext or an- 
other and had almost eliminated them- 
selves from the doubles finals that would 
be held in Mexico City the first week ii 
May. “I don't understand it,” Dillon said. 
“They're a terrific doubles team when 
they're in shape and they should have 
made it. And Panatta should be among 
the top ten in singles. My over-all opinion 
of them is that they have to work harder. 
"They're very talented and nice to watch, 
but Italians, you know, aren't really 
py away from home.” 

When Dillon bumped into Panatta 
in the lobby a few hours later, his greet- 

ng was cordial but a little cold. Panatta 
did not put him at his ease. “Paolo is 
very sick,” he said. 
Sick?” Dillon snapped. "What's the 
matter with him this 

"He is missing the sun," Panatta ex- 
plained. "You know the sun? It's that 
big round disk in the sky that glows hot. 
Here in Sweden they know not what 
that is. So Paolo is staying in bed.” 

That kind of banter is not calculated 
to delight Dillon, who has to account to 
the local promoters of each W.CT. 
tournament for his players and explain, 
not always convincingly, why some of 
them won't be showing up. Hewitt, for 
instance, was not in Stockholm but back 
in Johannesburg nursing a tennis elbow. 
ice he and McMillan are a top doubles 
attraction, irs not good for the gate 
when they don’t play. The fact that they 
were sure to get to the finals whether 
they played in Stockholm or not may 
have had something to do with Hewitt’s 
elbow problem, but then some doctor 
can always be found to testify in writing 
to a players disability and it wouldn't 
do Dillon any good to accuse his mis 
players of malingering. Anyway, from 
Hewitt Dillon could accept an occasional 
pse. But, my God, the Italians—even 
when they showed up, you couldn't be 
sure how they'd play or what they'd do! 

Panatta, for instance, was always for- 
getting things. In Philadelphia, the first 


stop on the tour, he showed up without 
his sneakers, The ones he managed to 
borrow for his opening match with Eddie 
Dibbs were too small and he swore 
loudly all through the match, even 
though reminded frequently by the man- 
agement that Philadelphia had a large 
Italian population. But by then, even 
in that first tournament, a lot of the 
players who hung around with them were 
swearing in Italian. Borg, for one. 
head," he was heard muti ng to himsclf 
on court in Roman slang. "Asshole. 
Prickhead. Porcine Madonna." Borg and 
some of the other players like to hang 
around the Italians and they pick up 
these little mannerisms. The pro tour 
is a grind but very serious business to 
most of the contestants and to them, 
even the ones most serious about their 
game, the Italians are comic relief. 
“Panatta, stick it up your ass!” Borg 
shouted in Philadelphia as he was losing 
to Bob Lutz and caught Panatta grin- 
g at him from the players’ section, 
while three middle-aged Italo-American 
housewives in the stands gasped, stood up 
and hurried for the exits. 

Panatta arrived in Stockholm without 
his clothes. A suitcase supposed to have 
been checked through directly from Pisa 
had somehow gone astray. That didn't 
worry him, because his first match wasn't 
until the following evening and for 
practice he could always borrow enough 
equipment from Paolo, whose clothes, 
oddly enough, fit him, though the two 
seem about as physically dissimilar as 
Mutt and Jeff. Panaua six feet tall 
and weighs about 180 pounds, while 
Bertolucci is four inches shorter and 
only ten pounds lighter. The real differ- 
ence is in their looks. Panatta resembles 
Alain Delon, who also happens to be his 
favorite movie actor; Bertolucci is nice- 
looking but built like a small tank. When 
Panatta walks out onto a court, he seems 
to glow, to actually radiate masculine 
charisma; Bertolucci waddles along 
his wake like a bored duck. An opera 
them together for the first 
time at a tournament in Rome a couple 
of years ago observed that the two of 
them reminded him of Don Giovanni and 
Leporello. 

The comparison is apt. Wherever he 
goes, Panatta is noticed and no one, not 
even the top teenage glamor boys like 
Borg, attracts more groupies. Jn Phila- 
delphia, at one country-club party, a 
drunken matron lurched up to him 
told him, “I don’t know how to say 
this, but you're really beautiful.” 

Panatta turned to Bertolucci, who 
was, as usual, lurking, barely awake, 
the background, and said, 
short and ugly. Learn, stud 
which Bertolucci replied with his custom- 
ary indifference, merely pointing out— 
in Italian, of course—that Panatta's 

(continued on page 152) 


buff who sa 


THE BEST-KEPT SECRET 
IN THE CARIBBEAN, or, 
THRILLS AND ROMANCE 
IN THE LEEWARDS 

AND WINDWARDS 


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THE SECRET, of course, is that they are wonderful in the summertime. 
And empty. And cheap. That is because a Grand Old Drayel Myth— 
the one that goes, Only mad dogs and schoolteachers voluntarily aim 
for the tropics in summer—continues to live on. Subthemes are that 
the islands, so close to the equator, must be 140 in the shade in July; 
and, when you're melting in an oven called Chicago, why pay 

to fly into a frying pan on Barbados? 

The reality is that, depending on the island, the difference 
between winter and summer temperatures may range from a few 
degrees to no degrees at all, and hotel and restaurant owners have to 
chop their summer prices to compensate for the power of the myth. 
‘The northeast trades breeze through all year long. The Leewards 
and Windwards are considerably cooler than Kansas in August, 
though not so corny. 

And there will be hardly another tourist in sight—unlike 
high winter season, when many of the hotels are crawling 
with the nouveau jet set and when quict village streets 
swarm with mobs of frenzied, wild-eyed creatures 
briefly escaped from cruise ships. That sort of travel may 
have its attractions, but you can do it all as 
pleasurably (text continued on page 102) 


Ship’s log, Monday: One Caribbean secret is to choose 
your chorter companions wisely, os we obviously did with 
three lady crewmates. They had their clothes off before 
the sails were up. At noon, we passed the pitons of 


St. Lucia—which somehow reminded us of our lovely first 
mate—then stopped for an idyllic grope by a waterfall. 


Ship's log, Tuesdoy: 
Played house in 
Dominica, fooled 
around їп е 

marsh for о while, 
then got aboord 
for the cruise to lles 
des Saintes, just 

off Guadeloupe. Took 
о wolk along the 
beach. Natives 
extremely friendly. 


$^ 


swinging island. 
cruise? Vine held 
vp very well, 
considering. First 
mate had с 

thing for waterfalls, 
sa we stopped at 
another for a warm 
dip in the interior. 


PHOTOGRAPHY BY DWICHT НООКЕН. 


WM чиш —— 


Ship's log, Thursday: à Ship's log, Friday: 
Crew mutinied. Or at > чар М Е 
Е f, but the 
атау а 
jumped overboord ct it wos—continued 


unabated. As our boat 
loy at anchor, we did 
likewise in the sand 

cf the Grenadines. 
Soon the crew had 

its demands ful- 

filled, however, and 

оз the Caribbean sun 

- met the sea, we headed. 
far home, happy, spent, 
‘aur secret intact. 


Martinique, swam to 
a nearby beach and 
bedlom ensued. 


PLAYBOY 


in the summer and at less than half 
the $$$$$. 


NO MAN IS AN ISLAND, BUT THE 
LEEWARDS AND WINDWARDS ARE! 

Also, you won't be headed for just an- 
other pretty beach, although there are 
many to be found. Unlike flat coral is- 
lands such as the Bahamas, where geolog- 
ical doom is announced by magnificent. 
beaches and not much else, these islands, 
with a few exceptions, are obviously vol- 
canic. Most have at least one crumbling 
cone or small group of peaks rising high 
and green from the luminous sea, up to а 
single cloud—often the only one in view— 
fluffed solitary at the top like a mascot. 
But there is more than food for your 
Nikon. The Leewards and Windwards 
are ideas as well, They look, some of 
them, like perfect Schlitz fantasies of 
South Seas gusto . . . Bora-Bora, Nuku 
Hiva ... but they have also been ex- 
ploited and fought for and bloodied and 
traded for 400 years like fat distant em- 
eralds by kings and queens and presidents 
and prime ministers. That sort of at- 
tention, as you might imagine, has had 
its effects. Neighboring islands are Eng- 
lish or French or Dutch for no more 
compelling reason than accident of his- 
tory; they commemorate in the flesh 
old fortunes of war. They changed hands 
so frequently, and the boogie depended 
for so long on the cheap strong backs of 
unwilling recruits fresh from the А 
coast, that they are now an amazing 
stew of people and habits and values. 
"Their up-for-grabs, blood-on-the-bougain- 
villaea past is everywhere a presence, 
different on every island, visible in ruins 
of dead forts and sugar mills and planta- 
tion houses again becoming rock heaps 
among the coco palms—and felt as subtle 
vibrations from the people who live 
there and have inherited it all, whose any- 
thing-goes genealogies usually indude 
whatever you'd care to name but nearly 
always spin back to slave or planter or 
ferocious Carib. Levels and levels, as we 
used to say in the good old psychedelic 
days, and you don't need to be Melville 
to find them fascinating or to learn 
something from them—and you can do 
it from poolside, while sipping a rum 
punch, Can you beat metaphysics and a 
terrific tan? 


DISCLAIMER 

Since we are but a mere magazine and 
not а 1000-page guide, as you have prob- 
ably noticed, there are too many Lee- 
wards and Windwards to treat all of them 
with any justice. So we have instead 
been deliberately selective, figuring that 
a sampling of the West Indies is better 
than no Indies at all. 


T'N'T TOUR 
On a nighttime taxi ride into Port of 
Spain from the airport, you may wonder 


102 at first if Trinidad was such a good idea, 


after all Sweet dark shadows of cane 
swaying on both sides of the road abrupt- 
ly give way to a Nestlé’s plant, Trinidata 
Computer Service, a Coke border, Colo- 
nel Sanders, Modern Wigs, Inc, while 
women walk along the road with baskets 
balanced on their heads and a steel band 
practices at an outdoor pay-by-the-hour 
stand. It is unsetilingly like Southern Cali- 
fornia gone yet more surreal. You can't 
see the bright terrible patchwork of tin- 
roof slums, shining on many of the hills, 
until morning. 

It is not everyone's cup of tea. So dose 
to Venezuela that birds from Trinidad 
daily commute there to feed, it was at- 
tached millions of years ago to South 
America, The old connection still shows 
in its plant and animal life, and this 
geological diflerence from the other is- 
lands has left Trinidad with something 
none of the rest have—oil. In abundance, 
and it's being exploited like mad. The 
industrial age has arrived on Trinidad 
with a bulldozer, and some tourists simply 
don't think they need to travel that far 
to see an oil refinery. Even worse, there 
isn't a beach anywhere near Port of 
Spain. 

But we liked Trinidad a lot. The 
Hilton, surprisingly enough, is probably 
the best place to stay. It's carved into a 
hill that surveys the entire city, direclly 
above a huge grassy park called the Sa- 
vannah, where in certain seasons fine- 
tuned race horses work out at dawn and 
where during carnival mighty calypso or- 
chestras stir it up all night long. There is 
also a 150-year-old botanical garden near- 
by, full of 60-foot incarnations of every- 
thing dying on your window sill at home; 
and beyond that is the Emperor Valley 
Zoo, somewhat more modest than the 
name would suggest, featuring this sign 
just inside the gate: 1F AN EXHTBIT IS 
MARKED NO FEEDING THIS IS BECAUSE IF 
GIVEN THE WRONG FOOD THE EXHIBIT WILL 
шь. When we were there last, we saw 
three cayman lizard: that sat blinking 
their mudhole, bored, having long 
ago disposed of biting off each other's 
tails as something to do; and we admired 
the parrot that was trying, by God, to 
pick the lock on its cage. 

From the zoo, you can walk the long 
way round the Savannah past extrava- 
gant and whimsical Victorian mansions of 
the Britain vs. The Tropics school and 
then aim for the waterfront downtown. 
You will find that Port of Spain is no- 
where near as seedy as the guidebooks 
would have you believe but that it is what 
they would call teeming. 

1f you haven't scheduled much time in 
"Trinidad, be sure at least to take the Sad- 
dle Drive, a three-hour circular tour that 
starts with the city and winds north 
through mountains thick with rain forest 
to the beach on Maracas Bay, where 
you'll have a beer and be calypsoed by 


local entrepreneurs before heading back 
another way, past plantations of coco 
trees protected from the sun by taller 
tamarinds and groves of lime and nut- 
meg. All along the way, intense swea 
men, carrying machetes like walking 
sticks, prod and poke the edges of the 
jungle, foraging for lunch or better. On 
hilltops, sometimes miles from a road, 
perch the shacks of squatters, whose tiny 
fields dutch for dear life to the sides of 
steep hills. The squatters mostly stay alive 
by growing chives and selling them in 
town—such is subsistence there—and the 
government sensibly calls it a contribu- 
tion and gives them the land if they can 
make it work. 


One of the best things about Trinidad 
is Tobago, a 15-minute taxi flight away. 
Like a dozen other islands around the 
world, it claims to be the sole actual inspi- 
ration for Robinson Crusoe. It looks the 
part. In the north, it’s nearly untouched, 
wild virgin Defoe country; and in the 
south, acres of coco palms weave across 
the island in expansive leisurely rows, 
sometimes from beach to beach, hardly 
interrupted by the few villages and fewer 
hotels. It is your basic Gorgeous. 

And very quiet. The snorkeling trip on 
Buccoo Reef is not to be missed, even if 
you only watch through the boat's glass 
bottom. And a visit to Scarborough, a 
large fishing village thats considered a 
town, is worth an afternoon, if just to 
watch the sunset from gemlike old Fort 
King George, moldering gracefully on 
the bluff above Scarborough. After that, 
you are left to cook it up on your own. 


ON THE NATURE OF THE 
HOTEL UNIVERSE 

Which means that on small islands such 
as Tobago—and St. Lucia. the Grena- 
dines, Montserrat, Nevis and others—you 
should choose your spot wisely, as Don 
Juan instructs, because your hotel quickly 
becomes yet another small island. Strange- 
ly enough, the more ambitious and ener- 
getic places—100 rooms, golf, tennis, 
scuba, three dining rooms, nine bars, doc- 
tor on call at all times—can offer the most 
privacy, because they are so big and so 
devoted to activity. Cuidebooks usually 
characterize this as impersonal, and it is, 
but it's great if you really love the one 
you're with and like a little tennis on 
the side. 

At places catering to fewer than 
30 people, however, you can't—and 
shouldn't—avoid becoming part of a 
group that goes its various ways during 
the day but every night becomes a dinner 
party, with cocktails before, brandy after- 
ward and lies throughout, just like civi- 
lized folks in Dickens novels. It's enjoyable 
because it's not just another gathering of 
your 16 favorite dull neighbors. These 
people are at least different and interest- 
ing enough to have gotten to Arnos Vale 

(continued on page 162) 


GOLDILOCKS AND THE THREE BEERS 


Le CXNUINE SAINTS are quite rare in Los Angeles, California, 
fiction By DANNY SANTIAGO ыт. «o know one and Hector Martine: was his name. 
و‎ Ў He worked for the S.P. railroad and lived all alone in a 
what's next when the woman of your tumble down shack behind Gutierrez house with no woman 
. E of his own or anybody else's, either, happily sharing his pay 

dreams takes your giant mexican flagpole checks with friends and needy neighbors. And on our street, 
SG . 2 where scandal was king, its long dirty fingernails never once 

and squeezes it in a friendly way: scratched Hector. If there was any (continued on page 142) 
ML 


DN AA ni 


ILLUSTRATION BY JOHN O'LEARY 


THE SINGLUE+MINDIED MISS McCLAIN 


no one has a claim on our free-spirited may playmate— 
which is everyone’s good fortune 


1975 cover girl. She was shown sitting in a movie theater 
holding—uli—a box of popcorn on her thigh. Saucy, sexy 

and outspoken, Patricia has a Mae Westian sense of humor and, as a 
liberated half-Apache female, is a proud member of two embattled 

groups. She was discovered by eLavsoy Editor Publisher Hugh M. Hefner. 
1 was in a little night club, where you'd never expect him to show up,” 

she recalls, “but he came in, with about five people, got to meet me and 

invited me to his house. We've been good friends ever since.” Patricia 


Y PROBABLY remember Patricia Margot McClain as our November 


? Well, I'm great. What else can I tell you? 
I'd score a ten on the Richter scale. Actually, 
kidding aside, I enjoy a lot of action and I'm an 
explorer. But it has to be at the right time- 
which, for me, is just about any time.” 


attracted a great deal of attention with her cover appearance: At presstime, 
she was being considered for a part in а special based on the life of John 
Barrymore, Sr. And other offers have been coming in. It's kind of a surprise 
route to success for a young lady who won awards for her dramatic ability 
at both Pasadena City College and UCLA (she has also studied broad- 
casting and gets a kick out of taping make-believe radio shows). But then, 
a lot of things about her are unlikely. Born on a ship off the Californ 

22 years ago, Patricia is the daughter of an admiral in the U. 

a Indian lady who spent her early years on a reserv. 


Miss May, a 50 percent Apache Indian, 
keeps her own paint, Danny Boy, at her mother's 
place in the San Bernardino Mountains. 
hat's horse country,” explains Patricii 
who's an accomplished equestrienne. 


“I'm an average, all-American young lady 
looking for a man who's handsome and well 
endowed, with a lot of money. 1 just left a man I 
loved—he had everything I needed, but he 
wanted to keep me cooped up like an animal.” 


Mexico (“I visited there once; the people were so poor, it was patheti 
but now Jives in thc San Bernardino Mountains. Patricia left home at 17 ("I 
was raised under my father's thumb; he's very strong and, as a triple Taurus, 
I'm very rebellious”) and worked for a while a boutique. Thanks, 
however, to a trust fund set up by her father and her grandfather, she's 
been able to do more studying than working. In fact, she admits that 

next to becoming a Shakespearean actress, her fondest ambition was always 
“to grow up and have nothing to do.” But, as a result of her cover 

shot, it looks as if she'll get lots of work. Somehow we don't think she'll mind. 


GATEFOLD PHOTOGRAPHY BY KEN MARCUS 


э. 


“I'm used to living a certain way and I couldn't hold myself 
back, по matter how much I might love somebody. I like to play 
around a lot and I'm out almost every night. I carry on just 
like the men do—and I'm completely straightforward about it.” 


PLAYBOY'S PARTY JOKES 


Shotgun in hand, the rural father flung open 
the rear doors of the parked truck to find the 
driver mounted on his daughter and pumping 
rhythmically. “I suppose,” yelled the aggrieved 
parent, "that you fancy yourself a pretty good 
trucker! 

“One of the best!” panted the driver as he 
kept right on without missing 2 stroke. 

“In that case,” roared the father as he raised 
his weapon, "let's see you back out of that hole 
without spilling your load!” 


Were inclined to disbelieve a rumor that Dis- 
neyland plans to promote a bumper sticker 
reading, DO A MOUSE A FAVOR: EAT A PUSSY! 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines collection 
of sex manuals as a library of congress. 


The traveler knocked on the door of the house 
where a cabdriver had told him he could be 
sexually accommodated. An cyclevel panel slid 
open and a female voice asked what he wanted. 
“I want to get screwed," said the man. 

"OK, mister, but this is a private club, so slip 
twenty bucks as an initiation fee through the 
mail slot," answered the voice. 

The man did this, the panel was closed, min- 
utes passed . . . and nothing happened. He 
began to pound on the door insistently and the 
panel slid open. "Hey," exclaimed the sport, 
"I want to get screwed?" 

“What,” said the voice, “again?” 


Our Unabashed Dictionary defines militant 
feminist as an adamant Eve. 


In the harem, a lonely girl calis, 

But the guard, all-unheeding, just sprawls. 
When he's asked if he cheats 
On the sultan, he bleats, 

“Oh, 1 would—but 1 ain't got the balls?” 


The nervous bride said that she had a confes- 
n to make, but her groom of an hour re- 
assured her. “Darling.” he whispered, "I know 
about the time you worl a stripper. 

“Bur it was before that,” she continued. 

“You mean even before you were on the 
street hustling to pay for your habit?" 

“Yes, dear, and even before my sex-change 
operation.” 


cried the bearded and ragged 
island. “And it’s heading 
he went on, talking to 
himself, "that there's a ripe and willing girl 
aboard—one with full, jutting breasts... and 
flaring hips - - . and long, smooth legs - - - 
and a round, smooth ass! 1 can just taste her 
sweet lips as our naked bodies come together! 
Ian” 

But by that time, the fellow had a large and 
throbbing erection and he grabbed himself and 
began to masturbate furiously. "| gotcha now, 
you bastard,” he shouted, and then laughed 
maniacally, "'cause there ain't no fucking 
ship! 


A ship! A ship! 
castaway on the tiny 
this way! And I bet 


Î can't figure it,” sighed the young man. “She 
sure turned on and Î thought I really put it to 
her, but then afterward, she began asking why 
I hadn't managed to hold back just a lite 
longer." 

"Ah, well" mused his blasé friend, "that's 
the way the nookie grumbles.” 


Ап astronomer's comment was heinous: 
“We should not let convention restrain us. 
Though I've made a carcer 
Ош of Venus, my dear, 
lam tempted to switch to Uranus!” 


Perhaps you've heard about the girl who was 
fired from her job in a sperm bank after she 
became pregnant. They discovered she'd been 
embezzling. 


». 


When the teenagers petting session had 
reached a certain point, the girl suddenly dis- 
engaged hersclf, unzipped her date and pro- 
ceeded to perform or sex on him, When it 
was over and composure had returned, she whis- 
pered, “Did you like 

“I sure did, Nancy! 
had no idea you were queer.” 


“But I 


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


чє cou ج‎ wA _ = 


“I only give to the big leagues... .” 


ns 


A POSTHUMOUS MEMOIR 
OF JOHN H. WATSON, M.D. 
AS EDITED 


By Nicholas Meyer 


THE AUTHOR OF LAST 
YEAR'S SMASH BEST SELLER 
"THE SEVEN-PER-CENT 
SOLUTION" HAS SHERLOCK 
HOLMES UNCOVERING A 
HORROR MORE MONSTROUS 
THAN MURDER 


SYNOPSIS: London lay under a blanket 
of show on the morning of March 1,1895, 
when an eccentriclooking bearded man 
appeared at the Baker Street lodgings of 
Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson. The 
caller, as it was soon revealed, was the 
Saturday's Review's critic, Mr. Bernard 
Shaw. He had come to request Holmes to 
investigate the murder of a fellow critic, 
the feared and hated Jonathan McCarthy. 

Upon reaching McCarthy's flat, they 
discovered Inspector Lestrade of Scot- 
land Yard on the scene, at work with 


PLAYBOY 


his assistant, Sergeant Stanley Hopkins. 
They were awaiting the arrival of Police 
Surgeon Brownlow to remove the body. 
The clues to the murder were puzzling. 
Evidently, McCarthy had been drinking 
brandy with someone who smoked a 
strange kind of cigar—Indian, as it later 
appeared—and who wore new boots. The 
visitor had stabbed McCarthy and left, 
but the critic, with his last strength, had 
crawled to a bookshelf and opened a vol- 
ume of “Romeo and Juliet” to the duel 
scene between Tybalt and Mercutio. In 
McCarthy's engagement diary, the name 
Bunthorne was noted and the page for 
February 28 had been torn out. 

Since Bunthorne was a Gilbert and 
Sullivan character modelled on Oscar 
Wilde, the trail led to the poet, whom 
Holmes and Watson found just about to 
launch his famous legal action against the 
Marquess of Qucensberry—the action that 
was to end in Wilde's downfall and im- 
prisonment. Wilde, however, revealed 
that McCarthy had kept a mistress, a girl 
named Jessie Rutland, an ingénue in the 
cast at the Savoy Theatre. 

Following this lead, Holmes and Wat- 
son went to the Savoy, arriving minutes 
before Miss Rutland’s throat was slit in 
her dressing room. Dr. Benjamin Eccles, 
the theatre physician, soon took charge of 
the body and Holmes and Watson re- 
paired to а restaurant to meet Shaw. 
There, Holmes revealed that a page 
from McCarthy's diary showed the faint 
impression of the name of another Gilbert 
and Sullivan character—Jack Point, a 
jester whose sweetheart left him for an- 
other man. 

Shaw left the restaurant abruptly. Then 
Holmes and Watson, both feeling ill, 
departed separately a short time later, to 
encounter the same strange expertence in 
turn—a man seized each from behind and 
forced him to drink a bitter-tasting liquid. 

The next morning, a warning letter 
arrived at 221B Baker Street, adjuring 
Holmes and Watson to “stay out of the 
Strand.” Holmes noted that the paper 
was Indian. 

The next person to be interviewed was 
Sir Arthur Sullivan, at the Lyceum Thea- 
tre. Before seeing him, however, Holmes 
and Watson met Bram Stoker, a menacing- 
looking man who was business manager 
of the theatre, and Ellen Terry, the fa- 
mous actress. Sullivan, at first reluctant lo 
talk, finally admitted that Miss Rutland 
had confided in him the fact that she had 
had a second lover, an unnamed man 
about whom she had let slip only one 
clue—that his wife was confined to a nurs- 
ing home in Bombay. As Holmes and 
Watson left Sullivan's quarters, they dis- 
covered Stoker just outside the door. Ap- 
parently, he had been eavesdropping. 


пв Stoker—who, according to Wilde, kept a 


secret flat in the depths of Soho—now 
became the object of suspicion. 


CHAPTER X 

THE MAN WITH THE BROWN EYES 
SHERLOCK HOLMES refused to volunteer 
any further observations on Bram Stoker— 
his boots, his eavesdropping or his Soho 
flat. “Later, Watson,” said he as we stood 
on the kerb before the theatre. “Things 
are not so simple as I had first supposed.” 

Then he took me by the sleeve and 
added, “I must spend the afternoon in 
some research and I'd like to prevail upon 
you to find Bernard Shaw and learn the 
meaning of his eccentric behaviour last 
night.” 

“You begin to attach some importance 
to my theory, then?" 

“It may be,” he answered, smiling. “At 
all events, I think it would be well to have 
every thread of this tangled skein in our 
hands. I fancy you will come upon him 
at lunch at the Café Royal. Good luck— 
we shall meet again at Baker Street.” 

When he had rounded the corner, I 
wasted no timc in hailing a cab and has- 
tening the snowbound half mile to the 
Café Royal. 

As I entered, I noticed that the place 
was crowded and, it seemed to me, in a 
collective state of some confusion. Clus- 
ters of nervous people huddled round 
tables and whispered intently together. 

“Dr. Watson!" I peered about at the 
sound of the voice and beheld Shaw seat- 
ed at a table with another man, whose 
coarse appearance disturbed me at once. 
He was short and squat, with eyes too 
closely set and a pug, prize fighter's nose. 
His head sat awkwardly atop a thick, 
muscular neck that threatened to burst 
the confines of his shirt and collar. 

"This is Mr. Frank Harris, my pub- 
lisher," the critic informed me as I 
dropped into a chair opposite them. 
"Like everyone else here," he added sar- 
donically, “we are speculating.” 

“About what?” 

“About Oscar Wilde's folly,” boomed 
Mr. Harris in a voice that must have car- 
ried across the room. My face must have 
betrayed my confusion. 

“You recall my running out of Simp- 
son's last night?" Shaw asked, leaning his 
cheek upon an open palm and stirring 
his coffee. “It was the beginning of a 
horrible night. In the first place, some 
maniac assaulted me outside the restau- 
rant. A strange practical joke, no doubt, 
but it served to delay me from rushing 
here. I was trying to prevent the arrest 
of the Marquess of Queensberry. Frank 
and I sat here at this very table trying 
for a long time to dissuade poor Oscar.” 

“We bent his car," Harris agreed in a 
stentorian bellow, “but it was no use. He 
sat through it like a man in a trance.” 
Harris accent was impossible to place; 
it sounded variously Welsh, Irish and 
American. 


“He cannot prove he was libelledz" 

"Worse than that," Shaw explained. 
“According to the law, he leaves himself 
open for Queensberry to prove he wrote 
the truth.” 

“The marquess was arrested this morn- 
ing,” Harris concluded in a dull rum- 
ble. They returned glumly to their coffee. 
At this juncture, I wondered if I dared 
turn the conyersation backwards. 

“What of your assault? I take it you 

were not injured?” 
Shaw wiggled his fingers 
ed from behind, forced. 
to swallow some disagreeable concoction 
nd then released. Gan you imagine such 
nonsense right in the heart of London 
He shook his head at the thought, but 
his mind was clearly elsewhere. 

“Did you get a look at the man?” 

“I tell you, I was paying no attention, 
doctor! I simply wanted to get here and 
do what I could to keep Wilde from de- 
stroying himself.” 

“Is it a foregone conclusion, then, that 
he will lose the case?” 

“Utterly foregone. Oscar Wilde, the 
greatest literary light of his time"—I no- 
ticed Shaw wince slightly at this—"and 
in three months or les he will be in 
total eclipse. People will speak his name 
in derisi Harris intoned all this as 
though delivering a sermon; yet, for all 
his vocal posturing, I sensed a very real 
distress on his part. 

“I should not be surprised if his works 
were proscribed,” added Shaw. 

At the time, I could not understand 
how grave the issue was. But in three 
months, as all the world now knows, 
Frank Harris’ prophecy was proved cor- 
rect and Oscar Wilde was sentenced to 
prison, his glorious career in ashes. 

Shaw then looked at me as if perceiv- 
ing my own train of thought and en- 
quired with а rueful smile, “Well, how's 
the murder?” It was as much to say, 
Here's a more cheerful topic. 

“It's two murders, as I expect you'll 
discover in this afternoon's editions.” I 
then recounted the events at the Savoy 
Theatre. 

“Murder at the Savoy!" Harris gasped 
when I had done. “What is happening? 
Is the entire fabric of our community to 
be rent by scandal and horror within 
the narrow space of four days?" Some- 
aged to convey the impres 
ing the prospect. 

“Does either of you know Bram Sto- 
ker?" I put in at this poi "Sherlock 
iterested in hi 

Shaw hesitated, exchanging glances 
with his publisher. “Well, he's an odd 
one,” Harris allowed. “His name is actu- 
ally Abraham. He was born in Dublin 
or thereabouts and he has an older 
brother who is a prominent physician.” 

“Dr. William Stoker?" 

Shaw nodded. “As for Bram, I know 
that he was once athletic champion of 

(continued on page 170) 


how, he 


THE HAUTEBURGER 


ground X 
beef of the world. © 
arise! you have 

nothing to lose but 
your fast-food chains 


4) 

< > С 
WITH RONALD MC DONALD and his enterpri. CE еу S> опу one drawback—it just абат 
ing buddies taking over the world, the È “SS > mad taste like a hamburger. McDonald's 
future generations will never know the taste ~ PN. tacitly concedes this рої. They're most 
of a real, honest-to-griddled hamburger. Not that reluctant to sell a burger without its des- 


we're knocking McDonald's or competitive franchises. They ignated garnish, sauce or lubricant. Every Big Мас, for 
offer a reasonably nutritious package—no extenders, no bind- instance, cpmes with an obligatory lathering of Big Mac 
ers, moderate fat content—at a fair price. And fast! There's - Saucé&-a vweetish, pickle-flecked (continued on page 158) 


food By EMANUEL GREENBERG. « 5 * 


atuak 


ТИ 


GME Grow 


“Honest, dear, it’s just until his trampoline is fixed!” 


HOW ТО GET TL HOW ТО USE TI 


article By JOHN HUGHES 


Weakness corrupts and absolute 
weakness corrupts absolutely. 
— LORD ACTON'S VALET 


As NIETZSCHE was writing about the “will 
to power,” his younger brother, Alf, was 
writing about the “will to hide under 
the bed and whimper.” Alf Nietzsche 
summed up the secret wish of all men— 
to be weak and snivelish. To bend in a 
moderate-tostrong wind. To shudder and 
shake like a JelLO mold. To faint at 
horror pictures. 


With power goes responsibility, and 
that in itself is frightening. It means be- 
ing last off a sinking ship, first in the 
face of enemy fire. To accept power is to 
accept the imminence of your own de- 
struction, To accept weakness is to ac 
cept that you may be called a noodle 
and have your lunch overturned. 

If you want weakness, it is yours. You 
may have to beg and whine, you may 
have to become a great big sissy, but once 
you have it, you'll never have to go down 


into a dark basement to check out a 
mysterious noise. 


THE WEAKNESS GAME 


Weakness js a game. You don't 
understand it until the rules are 
carved on your chest. 

—NOEL COWARD'S OLDER 
BROTHER, BIG COWARD 


Weakness is just like any other game. 
There arerules, (continued on page 168) 


121 


article 


PLAYBOY'S HISTORY OF ... 


ASSASSINATION 
IN AMERICA 


[xc coc ART WD == ту Т] 


twelve years after the 
publication of the 
warren report, three 
things are apparent: 
(1) the commission 
concealed or ignored facts, 
witnesses and evidence; 
(2) nearly all of 

the countertheorics 
proposed by critics of 
the commission now 
seem impossible; 

(3) serious physical 
evidence remains to 
contradict the theory 
that lee harvey oswald 
fired all the shots that 
killed john kennedy 


THE BULLET’S PATH 


WICK EXPOSEO 
WHITE LINING 
OF TIE 


T. 
According to the Warren Report, o shot from obove and behind 
entered the back of Kennedy's neck ond exited just below his Adam's 
apple. A pathologist's note beside the autapsy diagram wpparted 
this. However, the diagram itself shows the wound between Kennedy's 
shoulder blades and matches up with the shirt and coc! he was 


weoring when he was shot. This physical evidence shows that o bullet 
entered Kennedy's back about six inches below the top of his shirt cal- 
lar, traveled upward and exited just below his callar button, possibly 
nicking his tie. There has never been an adequate explanotion of the 
conflic! between the report and both the clothes ond the diagram. 


A bad man shot my 
ET ee THE MISSING OSWALDS 
—JOHN F. KENNEDY, JR. 


TWELVE YEARS AGO, just after 
Telease of the Warren Re- 
port, almost everyone knew 
who the bad man with the 
rifle was. Lee Harvey Os- 
wald had killed President 
John F. Kennedy. Accord- 
ing to the report, Oswald, ' 
and Oswald alone, had am- 
bushed the President, in 
the way described in last 
month's article on the Ken- 
nedy assassination. Surely 
that was clear, documented 
in 27 volumes that over- 
whelmed the early tremors 
of suspicion about a plot 
and calmed the first wave 
of rumors launched by the 
shock of the President's 
death and by. the nearly in- 
credible end of his accused 
assassin. True, eccentrics 
like Bertrand Russell might 
immediately attack the re- 
port from abroad, but that 
was typical of the Old 
World, where assassination 
conspiracies had for cen- 
turies been common. Not 
so, most of us thought, here 
in the New World. With the 
exceptions of John Wilkes 
Booth's band of anti-Lin- 
colnites and Truman's two 
Puerto Rican attackers, our 
Presidential assassins had 


proved to be lone, mad- The picture at tap left is suppated to be of Oswald Тар right is Billy Lavelady, mistaken far Oswald 
dened men. Thev were in Minsk. Center is the official Dallas police photo atthe time af the shooting. Above right, Lavelady 
small, white, young, from of him, Above, Oswald is astensibly pictured with із shown in the doorway af the School Book De- 
disturbed homes and pos- Marina, again in Minsk. But at 5/11” he shauld — pasitary while Kennedy passes by. A case far 


sessed by а murderous have stoad at least six inches taller than she. Oswald's innacence was based on this picture. 
(text continued on page 126) 


In this Zapruder frame, Kennedy emerges from behind the sign after 
being hit. Even though the sun was shining, a bystander calmly stood the matarcade continue down the road and then walked aff in the 
with his umbrella apen during the shooting. The umbrella is partially opposite directian. Some peaple have theorized that he had a gun 
visible in front af the limausine at the right af the freeway sign. — hidden in the umbrella; athers believe it was а signal to gunmen. 


The Warren Commission took the 
discovery of three cortridge coses 
(above) ot the sixth-Roor window 
of the Schocl Bcok Depository to 
be proof that three shots were 
fired, all by Oswald (1). But other 
theorists, using their own evidence, 
place o possible 11 additional 
sniper positions in Decley Plaza. 
The most common placement is on 
the grassy knoll (2) and hos been 
supported, in combination with 1, 
by Mark Lane. Early speculation 
placed a gunman on the freewoy 
overpass (3), but no one in the 
crowd of spectators there saw 
him. In Hugh McDonald's book 
Appointment in Dollas, Saul (4) 
confesses that he shot Kennedy 
from the second floor of the Coun- 
ty Records Building. Most mys- 
terious is the mon who in bright 
sunshine had his umbrella open 
(5) while Kennedy wos being shot. 
Robert Cutler soys there wos a 
gun into the umbrella, With 
Pera Jones, Cutler believes there 
olso may have been a gunmen in 
fhe sewer (6). Another explona- 
tion of the umbrello is thot it wos a 
signal for firing teams initiated by 


the street, According to optical 
technician Robert Groden, shots 

inated from four locotions (2, 
7, 8 or 9 and 1 theory is 
endorsed by Dick Gregory. 
Josioh Thompson, outhor of Six 
Seconds in Dallas, believes there 
wos a gunman in position 1 but 
also claims two more snipers (2 
and either 8 or 11) ond a totol of 
at least four shots fired. Forensic 


with position 1, but his second 
rifleman is in o different spot (12). 
Bosed on the evidence, the shots 
from behind seem most likely. 


pus ga ur 


[PUES TOM 
mare bio f 
Kang e VN 
v 


EALEY PLAZA 
12:307 M. NOV.22 1963 


ТАлоше. are ari itm 


ILLUSTRATION BY ALAN Е. COBER 


GRASSY KNOLL 
uv “Джа 


ar ай ا‎ 


Many wha were present be- 
lieve that o! least one shat 
came from a fence on the 
grassy knoll. Above, same 
people think they con see a 
gunman behind the fence in 
this phatagraph. Right, above, 
palicemen hearing the shat 
fram the knoll dismount and 
tun up the incline to investi- 
gate, while people turn in that 
directian. Right, belaw, an af- 
ficer hos reached the top but 
finds no ane. One theary has 
it that the gunman, ater firing 
from that position, go! inta the 
trunk of а cor ond was driven 
away. Some say he shot from 
the roof of a car parked be- 
hind the fence. Those who be- 
lieve there was no gunman at 
that spot say witnesses heard 
the echoes of the other shots. 


Whether or nat Ruby was involved in a conspiracy, he was in the corridor of the Dallos 


Police Department, above, an the 22nd af November, two days before he shot Oswald. 
Right, the man phatographed in Mexico is identified by Hugh McDonald os "Saul." Accord-  & 


ing ta McDonald, he confessed ta being the hired assassin who killed Kennedy. McDonald 
claims Oswald was a decay whom Saul was supposed to kill after shaating the President. 


cause. Was not Lee Harvey 
Oswald exactly that sort? 
Could anyone reasonably 
doubt he was the bad man 
with the rifle? 

Today, seven out of ten 
Americans believe Oswald 
was not the only bad man. 
Since 1965, when the first 
serious attacks on the re- 
port were mounted, skep- 
ticism about the Warren 
Commission's conclusion 
has risen steadily. Mam 
reasons have been offered. 
Perhaps the Cold War's cli- 
mate contributed, with its 
ceaseless talk of spy con- 
spiracies, with Joe Mc- 

"arthy finding Reds under 
every rug. Or maybe, some 
say, our refusal to believe 
was born in the exponential 
increase of madness in the 
land when the murder of a 
President was followed by 
the lacerating atrocities of 
Vietnam, by more assassina- 
tions, by civil riots, by the 
crippling absurdities of 
Watergate; finally, by the 
disclosures of FBI and CIA 
crimes, until Americans, 
swirled in cyclones of cyni- 
cism, were ready to believe 
that anything was possible. 
Perhaps, others suggest. it 
has from the first been the 
sheer incongruity of that 
weak-chinned — Oswald's 
bringing down the hero of 
PT 109 that galled us be- 
yond belief. But these ex- 
planations beg the point. 

The Warren Report is 
(continued on page 130) 


TN 


t 


PUZZLING EVIDENCE 


The Warren Commission 
theorized thot a single 
bullet went through Ken- 
nedy's neck, Connolly's 
bock and wrist, continued 
on to lodge in his thigh, 
ond later fell out intact 
‘onto a hospital stretcher. 
The bullet (1 ond 2) ap- 
peors to be undomaged 
only from one angle. Com- 
pare the domage with o 
bullet (3) test-fired from 
Oswald's rifle into a 
cadover's wrist, An X roy 
(4) shows the damage to 
the wrist. A Zopruder 
frame (5) seems to show 
Kennedy ond Connally be- 
ing hit simultaneously. Ап 
X ray of Connally's thigh 
(6) reveals a bullet frag- 
ment embedded in the 
bone. Measurements and 
estimotes yielded these 
figures: The "magic" bullet 
wos missing 2.5 grains of 
lead, Reports said 1.5 groins 
were found in Connally. 


The Army claimed it conducted tests with Oswold's Mannlicher- goat hair. The tests graphicolly demonstrated that the rife was 
Carcano to simulate the final shot, the one thot killed Kennedy. not only accurate but also capable of producing the type af 
Above, a human skull was packed with gelatin and covered with massive wound that would leave the victim no chance for recovery. 


Clockwise from the top of this page: 


Slip under a Body Shaper Pulsating Shower 
and you'll be pummeled with 7500 water 
jets per minute; needle spray to full rinse 
can also be used in combination with the 
pulsator, by Chicago Specialty, $24.95. 


The Pollenex Dial Massage is four shower 
heads in one—pulsator, coarse spray, fine 
spray and waterfall massage; aerator fea- 
lure mixes air with water for odditional 
stimulation, by Associated Mills, $39.95. 


Logan Manvfacturing's 722 big-ball show- 
ering head enables the bather to enjoy 
more than 20 water patterns, from a soft 
Orchid mist to a straight powerful fire- 
hose-nozzle stream, $29.50 far head only. 


The Shower Massage can be used in the 
conventional manner or hand-held for fa- 
cials, soap-ofts, etc.; dial adjustment allows 
for a variety of water patterns, including 
a pulsating spray, by Water Pik, $39.95. 


Another hand-held unit, the Daisy Flo- 
Massage, can be tuned to a pulsating body 
massager, a full spray or a soft flaw; also 
can be used as supplement to a wall show- 
er, by Franklin Metal & Rubber, $36.95 


129 


PLAYBOY 


CRIES OF CONSPIRACY (continued from page 126) 


doubted because its responsible critics 
have raised vital questions about the 
commission's blundering. In what fol- 
lows, we will look, as objectively as 
possible, at the key elements of the 
physical evidence and at the plausible 
possibilities of conspiracy, with the warn- 
ing that the enormous amount of data 
on the Kennedy assassination prevents 
examination of more than the major ele- 
ments and theories. For, if you reject the 
Warren Commission's theories, there are 
no simple answers. For example, in 
the matter of where guns were fired in 
Dealey Plaza, you have a wide choice. Or 
jou can choose conspirators from the 
Russians, Castroites, dissident. elements 
of the CIA and FBI (with Oswald per- 
haps an agent for each and all) or the 
"Teamsters-cum-Mafia-cum-CIA, or Н. L. 
Hunt-style Texas right-wingers acting for 
God, country and L-B.J. You can consid- 
stro Cubans incensed over the 
igs, the Minutemen, the Klan, 
tary junta (assisted by 
military intelligence and key industrial 
leaders), the Dallas Police Force or New 
Orleans homosexuals connected with 
organized crime and the CIA (the CLA 
is, understandably, most often men- 
tioned in speculations on the assassina- 
tion). You even have your choice of 
Oswalds. In many instances, the theories 
overlap in rings of persons and places 
rippling out from the central incident 
to encompass so much that one wonders 
if any conspiracy so huge could remain 
a secret. Three or four men, perhaps— 
but many more . . . well, why didn't they 
just wait and vote Kennedy out? 

Yet the fact that the report's cri! 
cannot agree on every specific point (ex- 
cept that Oswald alone didn't do it) 
should not disqualify their views, espe- 
cially those buttressed by the persuasive 
evidence some have unearthed. If some 
of them are open to charges of being ca- 
reerists out for a fast buck, or trendy 
egomaniacs, or paranoids in the twilight 
of logic, or erectors of vast clockwork 
systems in which human error does not 
exist and every act is linked with every 
other, then they are litle worse than the 
Government itself, which through the 
Warren Commission failed to answer 
the question for good and all of who 
killed John Kennedy. It was, we must re- 
member, the Government that had that 
responsibility and the resources to dis- 
charge it. It was the FBI that, out of 
guilt or vainglory, decided after Ken- 
nedy's death to cover up a threatening 
note of Lee Harvey Oswald’s to agent 
James Hosty that fateful weck in Dallas. 
It was the FBI, the commission's staff 
and, to a lesser degree, the Secret Service 
that, it seems, persuaded some witnesses 
to agree with the commission's already- 
conceived view. It was the distinguished 


130 members of the Warren Commission who 


did not even view, let alone release, the 
crucial autopsy photos that show exactly 
how the bullets killed Kennedy. It was 
the commission's failure to call certain 
witnesses or to credit only selected others 
that fueled suspicion of its findings. It 
was the commission's questionable inter- 
pretations of ballistics, its strained recon- 
structions of the c its unwillingness 
to pick up beguiling threads of inquiry, 
its seeming blindness to the conspira- 
torial connotations of Oswald's odd life 
that aroused the critics. 

But before we can talk of conspiracy, 
or of the one deranged Oswald, we must 
go back to Dealey Plaza, to the critical 
physical evidence. 

Although it does not mean that Os- 
wald killed Kennedy, there is litle doubt 
that he ordered the Mannlicher-Carcano 
that did slay the President. The hand- 
writing on the order to Klein's Sporting 
Goods of Chicago and that on the order 
for a .38 Smith & Wesson revolver from 
Seaport Traders, Inc, of Los Angeles 
have been identified as Oswald's. Both 
documents bear the name “А. Hidell 
which also appeared with minor varia- 
tions on counterfeit identification found 
in Oswald's wallet after his arrest in the 
Texas Theater about 1:50 P.M. on 
November 22, shortly after Officer J. D. 
Tippit had been killed with the .38 
Smith & Wesson. Both guns were shipped 
in March 1963 to P. O. Box 2915, Dallas, 
which had been rented by a Lee H. Os- 
wald, whose signature matched that of 
A. Hidell. (It is not clear why he used 
an alias.) In the spring of 1963 in New 
Orleans, Oswald formed a chapter of the 
Fair Play for Cuba Committee, himself 
as sole member and A. J. Hidell as presi- 
dent (Hidell had a post-office box there, 
100). 

Among the identification cards found 
on Oswald were two clever bits of for- 
gery, both in the name Alek James Н 
dell (in Russia, Marina said, Lee was 
called Alek). They were a draft card and 
a certificate of service in the U. S. Ma- 
rine Corps, each made of prints from 
doctored photographic negatives that 
were pasted back to back. Oswald knew 
quite a bit about photography. In the 
Marines, he analyzed aerial photos and 
tracked 17-2 flights. His best job in Dallas 
had been as a photoprint trainee with 
aggars-ChilesStovall, a graphic-arts firm. 
hen, too, after he was arrested, he told 
Dallas police that the photos they'd 
scavenged from Marinas lodgings in 
Irving, showing him posed with rifle, 
pistol and leftist publications, were fakes, 
that he knew someone had pasted his 
head on somebody else's body and shot a 
ive. The Warren Commission 
id no, but other experts have 
said yes. (Sec box, page 204.) But none 
ofthat is proof that he killed the President. 

For example, did Oswald have the 


Mannlicher-Carcano with him that 
November 29 and did he ever practice 
with it? Marina said she remembered him 
working the bolt and squinting through 
the sight in New Orleans in May 1963. 
She also said that on other occasions in 
Dallas, she saw him clean it and work the 
bolt. Once, she said, he took the rifle 
concealed in a raincoat, saying he was 
going to practice shooting. A Russian 
friend of the Oswalds’ (they were often 
among the émigrés of Dallas and Fort 
Worth) testified that Lee told him of 
target shooting. One such target, accord- 
ing to Marina, was the virulendy right- 
wing Major Gencral Edwin A. Walker, at 
whom Lee said he took a shot with the 
Mannlicher-Carcano on April 10, 1963, 
after leaving a note in Russian for her 
with instructions as to what to do if he 
were caught, along with the pictures of 
himself with rifle, pistol and The Worker 
in hand. (The gunman fired through the 
house window, missing Walker's head, 
not by much, and escaped. The slug was 
too mutilated to determine if a Mann- 
licher-Carcano had fired it.) 

By far the most intriguing tale, though, 
is that of Oswald at rifle ranges. On 
several days in November prior to the 
assassination, witnesses at target ranges 
saw a man they said looked like Os 
‘That would seem further to incriminate 
Oswald, were it not that other evidence 
developed by the FBI for the Warren 
Commission placed Oswald elsewhere. 
Were these witnesses simply mistaken, as 
eyewitnesses often are? Did they want 
somehow to participate in the crime of 
the century? Harold Weisberg suggested 
in Whitewash, one of many books he pub- 
lished himself, that they may have been 
witnesses to the “second Oswald”—the 
look-alike who acted to attract attention 
to “Oswald,” putting the frame tightly 
around the decoy. This theory was later 
supported by Richard Popkin, Robert 
Sam Anson and others. But serious con- 
sideration of that must come after some 
other matters. For example, did the real 
Oswald who worked at the ‘Texas School 
Book Depository have his Mannlicher- 
Carcano with him at 12:30 р.м. on No- 
vember 22, 1963? 

‘The Warren Commission was satisfied 
that Oswald had taken the disassembled 
rifle to work on the morning of Novem- 
ber 22 in a 38inchlong brown paper 
bag that he had made carlier of wrapping 
paper and tape available in the Deposi- 
torys shipping room. Oswald's right 
palm print and leftindex fingerprint 
were detected оп the bag. Buell Wesley 
Frazier, who drove Oswald to work that 
morning from Irving, said Lee had with 
him a longish, heavy, brown-paper pack- 
€. Lee said it contained curtain rods. 
Even though valid questions have since 
been raised about exactly how Oswald 
made the bag and got it into the Deposi- 
tory, it seems clear he could have. More 


"Now do you see why he'snever become a champion?" 


131 


PLAYBOY 


portant are the constellations of ques- 
tions surrounding the weaponry and 
ballistics of the Kennedy murder, the 

ightest glowing around the famous 
magic bulle." The theory of the com- 
mission is that the slug hit both Kennedy 
and Connally and was finally found little 
the worse for wear on the governor's 
stretcher at Parkland hospital. But before 
that wonder can be explored come simpler 
considerations. First is the number of 
shots. Eightythree percent of the wit- 
nesses in Dealey Plaza who offered an 
opinion reported three. Only seven per- 
cent said two (though they included Mrs. 
Kennedy and Secret Service men, nota- 
bly Clint Hill). Very few reported more 
than three, tending to dispute investi- 
gators who believe there were several 
assassins. 

Accepting the majority opinion be- 
comes easier, if not necessarily correct, 
when we recall that three cartridge cases 
were found next to the wall under the sill 
of the southeast window on the sixth 
floor of the Texas School Book Deposi- 
tory. There, Dallas police photographs 
showed, were three boxes stacked to the 
west side of the partially opened win. 
dow, allegedly to form a gun rest for 
the sniper. Other boxes along that 
side of the building concealed the shooter 
from anyone else who might be on the 
floor. According to Dallas police and 
FBI laboratory reports, only one of the 
three gun-rest boxes held Oswald's 
prints—the rightindex fingerprint and 
left palm print. Another small box set 
back from the window had on it Oswald's 
right palm print. But, zs many observers 
have noted, Oswald worked in the build- 
ing. filling book orders from cartous, in- 
duding those on the sixth floor. Why 
shouldn't his prints be there? In ad n, 
if he stacked the boxes, why weren't his 
prints on all of them? Furthermore, there 
are other photos of the nest that show а 
different arrangement of boxes. Which, 
if any, were taken before investigators 
moved the boxes, and did those square 
with what people outside saw looking 
upward? The Warren Commission's best 
witness to Oswald in the window was 
Howard Brennan, a steam fitter who was 
seated on a concrete wall opposite the De- 
pository. Saying nothingsubstantive about 
the boxes, he testified that Oswald was 
standing in the window, with the rifle, 
leaning against the left sill—a flat impos- 
sibility, since the gunman would then have 
to shoot through the window panes. Still, 
the testimony of other witnesses, especial- 
ly that of the 15-year-old schoolboy Amos 
Lee Euins, suggests that there was at least 
one man seen in the window—as another 
witness said, "crowded in among boxes” — 
and that he had a gun. 

When did he fire it, and how many 
times, and what did he hit? All the 
theorists induding the Warren Commis- 
sion have been forced to time the shots 


132 and to hypothesize about their effect, 


based on the film record of the assassina- 
tion created by Abraham Zapruder, a 
Dallas garment manufacturer who had 
stationed himself and his zoomlens Bell 
& Howell 8mm movie camera on a con- 
crete pedestal at one end of the Plaza's 
northern pergola—a structure like a 
bandstand immediately west of the De- 
pository and next to a grassy Кпо that 
led up to a line of trees fronting a 
six-foot stockade fence. The fence 
screened a parking lot next to railway 
yards. Zapruder' camera, tests later 
showed, ran at an average 18.3 frames 
per second. Thus, his film provides both 
a clock and a visual record of Kennedy's 
and Connallys reactions during the 
horror of those six seconds. Indced, 
Zapruder's film might have put an end 
to all the speculations about Kennedy's 
death had it not been for the traffic sign 
obscuring the exact location (hence time) 
of the first shot, As it is, the camera's 
speed, the sign's obstruction and the ra- 
pidicy with which che Mannlicher-Carcano 
could be operated are among the variables 
that have plagued us. The Warren Com- 
mission's staff, as well as conscientious 
investigators, including Weisberg and 
Robert Groden, have tried mightily to 
unravel precisely what happened. But 
little is absolute except the mathematics. 
Only the Warren Commission had access 
to Oswald's rifle. Its tests indicated that it 
could not be fired and rebolted in less 
п 2.3 seconds. Our own tests over iron 
sights at comparable distances with other 
similar Mannlicher-Carcanos, however, al- 
lowed three accurate shots to be fired in 
as little as 4.4 seconds, though some of the 
sequences took as long as eight due to the 
erratic behavior of the weapon. 

For a three-shot firing sequence consist- 
ent with the Warren Report and the Za- 
pruder film, the sniper must aim and fire 
the cartridge lying ready in the chamber, 
bolt a new cartridge in, reaim, shoot and 
repeat this—all in less than six seconds 
(or a second more than the Government's 
minimum required time). Six seconds 
was all the time available, because the 
snipers view of Kennedy's body from 
the southeast window of the Depository 
was obscured by a live oak tree from 
Zapruder frame 166 until approximately 
frame 210. Curiously, Kennedy was a fine 
target before that time, all the way down 
Houston Street and through the turn just 
below the window, yet no shots were then 
fired. There is a moment at frame 186 
when a shot might have been fired through 
an opening in the foliage. Some observers 
believe one was fired about then, hitting 
the pavement at the rear of the Presi- 
dent's car (several spectators thought, in 
retrospect, that they saw something splat- 
ter) and flinging fragments several hun- 
dred yards, one of which may have 
injured James Tague, who was standing 
on Commerce Street near the Triple Un- 
derpass. More probably, Tague was 
nicked in the cheek by something—a 


bullet fragment or chip of concrete— 
bouncing up from a Main Street curb 
about 15 feet away. A section of curb- 
ing there, examined belatedly by the FBI, 
showed under spectrographic testing 
traces of Jead and antimony, two ele- 
ments common in the lead cores of bullets. 
No trace of copper was found, meai 
the smear could not be from the first im- 
pact of one of the Mannlicher-Carcano's 
copper-jacketed rounds. If from a bullet 
at all (many articles contain lead and 
antimony), the smear had to come either 
from a Mannlicher-Carcano fragment or 
from another bullet altogether. This last 
explanation is preferred by those suspect- 
ing more than one gunman. Further com- 
plicating matters, Mr. Tague thinks he 
was hit at the time of “either the second or 
the third” shot, meaning if Oswald was the 
Jone gunman, either what the War- 
ren Commission calls the miss or the fatal 
head shot. Yet Tague was a long way 
from the limousine—almost a hundred 
yards when Kennedys head exploded. 
Would a fragment fly that far? Or was 
there another gun? Do we even know, 
assuming three shots were fired from the 
Depository, which of the first two missed? 
Unfortunately, it's impossible to de- 
termine from Zapruder's film, because by 
the time the President's limousine cleared 
the oak tree and offered the gunman a 
good sight picture, the car had also passed 
behind the street sign. We only know 
that by frame 225, when the limousine 
emerges from behind the sign, Ken- 
nedy has been hit. His hands move up- 
ward toward his throat, his shoulders 
hunch. In James Altgens' photo taken an 
instant later at frame 255, we sce the Se- 
cret Service men crane back toward the 
unexpected firecracker pop, while Jackie 
grabs Jack's arm and Connally turns awk- 
wardly to his right. This the commission 
calls the first shot from the lone gunman 
and is the magic bullet. The second prob- 
ably misses, it says. The third, about 
4.2 seconds after Kennedy emerges from 
behind the sign, at Zapruder frame 313, 
blows out the right side of Kennedy's 
skull, ending the New Frontier there in 
thc chicf city of thc old West. 

Several quick but significant questions: 
Could the 1940vintage Mannlicher- 
Carcano, which was later found stuck 
between two rows of boxes near the de- 
scending staircase on the southwest end 
of the building, have all by itself killed 
Kennedy? Yes. At short range, with the 
160-161-grain copper-jacketed bullets, it 
had more than the necessary penetrating 
power and accuracy, despite a tendency 
to shoot high and right (which defect 
could easily have been compensated for 
by anyone familiar with the weapon). 15 
it certain that three shots were fired 
from that window, as so many witnesses 
heard? No. 

Kennedy may well have been the 
target of just two shots from there. Even 

(continued on page 200) 


she’s taken great pictures of 
beautiful women for this magazine. 
this time around, suze has 
photographed the gorgeous... suze 


E. SINCE we first set eyes on British 


photographer Suze Randall, we've toyed with 

the idea of featuring her on the other side of 

the camera. After all, it's not every day you 
run into a professional photographer who also 
happens to have been a model, and a gorgeous 
one at that. “I was working as a nurse in a Lon- 
don hospital," Suze tells us, "and got into model- 
ing on the side to bring in some extra money. 
The next logical step was photography." Often, 
in those early days, she would shoot herself, us- 
ing a cable release and mirrors be 
Which is precisely how she took the photographs on 
the following pages. And now ... Suze presents Suze! 


In addition to pho- 
tographing two cov- 

ers for ws, right 
(August 1975 and 
April 1976), Suze has 
shot Playmates Lil- 
lian Müller, Irene 
Miller and Miss May, 
Patricia McClain. 
Suze is also credited 
with bringing Norwe- 
gian model Miiller to 
our attention... At top, 
Suze gets close to Jill De 
Vries for a test shooting. 


ind the camera. 


133 


“Some models 
really turn on for 
the camera; 
others are shy and 
necd to be 
coaxed. I’m an 
exhibitionist 
myself. I'll drop 
my drawers 

any day, any- 
where—even 

if it’s in the mid- 


dle of the street. 
Being in front of 
the camera 
always makes me 
very horny.” 


“Sometimes I 
have to work very 
hard to get my 
models to hang 
loose and relax 

in front of the 
camera; so it's a 
great relief tobe 
shooting myself, 
because not only 
do 1 have a sex 
bomb for a model, 
I've got one hell 
of a great photog- 
rapher as well." 


“Tve just finished 
a book of my por- 
nographic mem- 
oirs called 'Sexess. 
Twas going to 
call it ‘Pussy 
Power, but my 
publishers were 
worried that that 
title would fright- 
en the booksellers. 
It’s a chronicle of 


my sexual exploits 
as a model and 
a photographer.” 


“I like to have 

sex in elevators 
or anyplace 
where there's a 
chance of being 
caught with my 
knickers down. 
It's the fear 

that turns me on 
the most. I’ve ac- 
tually done it in 
an elevator; it 
was a marvelous 
one—had an arm- 
rest all around, 
so I could put 
my feet up." 


PLAYBOY 


138 


wo c- юш 
u— mm c NÉ SONNO 


“Just think, if my eraser hadn't fallen under your desk, 
we might still be strangers." 


the hanged man watching 


WEL 


, My pears, I often think a pro- 
curess—a bawd, that is—lives like a 
spider. She spins her web and waits pa- 
tiently all day for the foolish insect to 
entangle itself. And then she sucks the 
gold of a man’s purse as the spider sucks 
the blood of the fly 

I had a girl named Amoretta in my 
employ; she was plump as a partridge 
and even preuier, and I set her up in а 
great old house with servants and fur- 
nishings so that she looked like a young 
lady of quality. Along came a merchant 
from another town, on business here for 
some months, who noticed her in the 
strect and was smitten. Secking a way to 
meet her, he was directed to me. 

After a certain amount of haggling 
about gifts and money, I agreed to pre- 
sent his case to the lady. I came back ali 
" 


es and noddin 

Don't think it is because she wants 
money,” I said, “for she has plenty. It is 
your grace and your handsome fca 
tures that have led her astray. But," J 
warned, “for a good reason I cannot tell 
you, you must meet her at my house.” 

АШ went like a charm and she played 
to perfection the fine lady reluctantly se 
duced. And then she tumbled with him 
in my narrow bed like the adept little 
whore she really was. How do I know 
all this? Well, there's a bit of a crack in 
the bedroom wall. 

On the third night, she began to com- 
plain, saying that she was used to feather 
quilts, finc linen, silken blankets and 
bed draped with velvet curi 
wouldn't have my most wretched maid 
slcep here,” she said. Finally, she allowed 
him to persuade her to meet in her own 
bedroom on the next night. "What does 
it matter if it turns out badly for me?” 
she asked. 

That afternoon, the lovestruck mer- 
chant sent her lavish gifts of fowl and 
wine and jewelry. When the clock struck 
seven, he went to her house, was shown 
п, mounted the stairs and was amazed by 
the rich furnishings as he entered her 
bedroom. They dined well, threw off 
their clothes, embraced warmly and 
dropped into bed. 

How do | know all this? Well, a cer- 
tain hole bored in the wall. 

First, she began to use her tongue on 
his body and then, just as he thought 
marvels were about to happen, a brick 
was flung through the window with a 
mighty crash. I must say that the wench 

1 a most convincing scr 
)h, my God!" she moaned and clung 
to him. Just then, the top sheets were 
snatched from the bed and they were 
exposed, completely naked. As they 
reached to pull them back, a fusillade of 
weird laughs and cackles burst out. 

"Could these be ghosts?" asked the 
bewildered merchant. 

Amoretta burst into 


ins. 


tears. "I must 


confess,” she sobbed, “that there is one who 
cannot even bear to have a fly look at 
me. When I would not accept his pro- 
posals of love, I being a modest sort of 
girl, he hanged himself in this very 
house. When I sleep alone, he is perfect- 
ly quiet. But, with you, my dearest 
At this point, the little maid, who was 
hidden under the bed, dragged the bed- 
clothes off once more and let loose a 
horrible cackle. That girl had enough 
talent to play in the commedia. 

The merchant's stiff mast sank to 
become a limp little rope. With a pale 
face, he arose and dressed and hurried 
from the house. 

І entered and embraced Amoretta on 
the success of our scheme. We now had 
the rich presents and no tiresome mer- 
chant to claim his due. 


from / Ragionamenti, by Pietro Aretino, 1536 


Ribald Classic 


But does the spider always judge every 
fly correctly? Sometimes isn't there a fly 
strong enough or shrewd enough to 
break the web? 

The next morning, bright and early, 
the merchant was back again with three 
priests in tow. He oversaw them as they 
blessed and exorcised the house from attic 
to wine cellar, with 100 signs of the cross 
and a gallon of holy water. "And now go 
back and say the Mass of Saint Gregory 
for the soul of the ghost,” he instructed 
them when they had finished. 

And, woe is mc, the idea of having had. 
the poor ghost watch him perform with the 
lady gave him enormous zest and vigor 
Night after night, he performed feats of 
screwing she had never imagined before 
I thought we would never get rid 
of him. —Retold by Carlo Matteo 


ILLUSTRATION BY BRAD HOLLA 


139 


д T Below left: Here's o look 

us that's a reol gos; a cotton 
corduroy jump suit with 
tab-held roll-up sleeves 
end rear-elasticized waist, 
by Hathawoy Otherweor, $95, 
worn over o contrast-collared 
shirt, by Hothoway, $22.50. 


І aee 


This speed freak, 
achieves a racy look in а 


Below right: А variotion on 
the jumpsuit theme; boot-sail 
cotton drill painter's overalls 


with odiustable suspenders 

end pliers pocket, by cuffs and flared legs, by Levi 
Lee, obout $14, Strauss, about $43, plus a 
plus а cotton jersey plaid shirt, by Peter 

pullover, by Gant, $15. Barton's Closet, obout $25. 


ITS ORIGINS MAY 
HAVE BEEN UTILITARIAN 
BUT THE JUMP 
SUIT NOW LEADS A 
LIFE OF LEISURE 


ATTIRE | 
By DAVID PLATT 


The Screaming Eagles 
should sce you now, be- 
low, decked out in a poly- 
urethane-treoted cotton 
jump suit with elasticized 
cuffs and ankles, by Beged- 
Or, $135, ond a knit pull- 
over, by Franck Olivier, $19. 


PHOTO ILLUSTRATIONS BY GUY FERY 


liule vanity in his life, it was the watch 
he bought when he first came to the 
U.S.A. It was solid gold like Hector him- 
self and would run for a week. 

When Hector died at 69 years of аде, 
everybody went to the wake. There 
were more flowers than you cared to 
smell and more rosaries than you cared 
to hear. Finally, just before they screwed 
down the lid on Hectors colhn, his 
brother Salvador held up Hector's watch 
for all to sec, wound it tight and slipped 
it into Hectors pocket to tick away 
down there in the grave and keep him 
company. АП of us were very taken with 
„ but, as usual, there had to be 
one critic. 

“Better Sal gave me that watch,” Ca 
miro whispered. "Who's going to wind 
there? While 1 myself could 
g forever in Hectors 


PLAYBOY 


"and you'd run right 
1! the way to the nearest 


pawnshop 

"You used to be a nice polite boy.” 
he said. “Up to the age of seven ye: 
you were among the very best 

Casimiro Orte Hectors exact 
pposite in all but age. His n 
to fame was his bald head, which was 
proof, according to him, that there was 
no Indian in his pure Spanish blood. 
as the color of the muscatel he 
His tiny pink eyes peeked 
out of their holes as sn 
T next saw him at the graveyard. The 
last rites were finished, Hecior's. соп 
perched om its rollers over the grave. 
The people were headed for home, but 
Casimiro sat alone under a giant cross ol 
gardenias with his face in his hands likc 
he was crying his eyes ош. 

“Oh-oh,” I thought and patted him 
down till 1 found a screwdriver stuck into 
his left shoe. 

“Fo pick my teeth with,” 


Casimiro 


I asked and took it 
d, “what if Hector 
wakes up anging on the lid 
id nobody's here to let him out?” 

"Nothing like a faithful friend," 1 


" Casi- 
miro grumbled. т everybody talk, 
you'd think Hector never once slipped 
his halo, but ] remember the time when 
he threw it in the gutter. So go buy beer 
someplace and ГЇЇ open your eyes for 


is no doubt my stron 
weakness. With the screwdriver safe 
my pocket, 1 made a quick round wip to 
iquor store, handed Casimi 
nd sat down on the grass beside 
him, careful to keep the rest of the six- 

k out of his reach, but his eyes made 
142 love to it. 


GOLDILOCKS (continua from page 103) 


“Fix your attention on 1927," he be- 
gan, "Brotherhood Week hadn't been in- 
vented yet, so people were a lot franker 
about their feelings. There were no 
Mexican-Americans back the You were 
one thing or the other.” 
Already you're stretching it out,” I 
complained. 
This will be a three-boule story at 
the very least," he said. "And besides, 
how would a snot-nose like yourself. un- 
derstand those fine old days unless I 
painted their picture? Lile wa 
then or else pure vinegar. It was y 
mountaintops or stinking gullies and 
not all flat and swampy like today.” 
yourself,” I told him. 
“Then, with your p he said, 
“well pay a little v fth 
Street just below 
bad street for sa 


in the morning. The iron screens are 
locked across the pawnshop windows. 
Even the all-night missions are closed. 
Everything nd dead except 
the Acropolis alè И was all white tile 
le and glared out at you like your 
grandmother's last tooth. Dinners were 
forty cents, the daily blue plate wa 
twenty-five and a bowl of chili, a dime. 
They gave you a lot to cat there, 
to tell the truth, it wasn't very tast 

“Is this a resta 
or what? Where 
embroidery? Home asleep?" 


but 


“Better for him if he had been," C; 
miro 


“But no, your good friend 
Saint Hector. Martinez is standing right 
outside and he's been there four hours, 
staring in like a hungry wolf. Because 
ide is the woman. She was counting 
her tips now, а very small handful of 
els and dimes and one giant fifty-cent 
piece. Her stockings were rolled down, 
which was the style back then, and her 
ked kuces twinkled dimply little 
smiles at you. But don’t think 
her knees Hector was st: а 
was her hair, which was as gold as th 
watch in his pocket. Now the womi 
comes out the door. She walks up the 
hill toward. Main and Hector quietly 
follows her. The woman doesn't turn her 


head, but, like any cow lost from the 
herd. she knows somcthings sniffing 
her tracks. Nobody's in sight. Ahead 
there's an alley. The man or whatever 


her there and drag 
her off into the dark for who knows what? 
She makes herself stop and turn around. 
And there's Hector, wearing the same 
l h 1 
nb ox eye staring out of his 
nd his big solemn mouth doing is 
best to smile politely, Compared. with 
the woman, he stood as tall as a tele- 
phone pole, but his big hands hung at 
his sides like a scolded schoolboy's and 


blue suit they bui 


that took the scare out of the woman. 

“You're the pancakes and the 
tip, she said. 

"Hector nodded. 

“ОКУ she said, љо 1 already ga 
a big smile 


you 
nd what more do you expect 
for your fifty cents?" 

“Hector stupidly introduced himself in 


the Mexican style and expla 
what he wanted. 

"She said. * 

"He searched the sidewalk lor splinters 
of English somebody might possibly have 
spilled ther 

"Mucho late” he finally said. "Many 
bad mans. Jees Christ, they touchy у 
1 kill'um. 

"He smashed his right fist into his left 
palm for demonstration. 

ОК. Pancakes.’ she sighed. "you can 
be my watchdog if you insist, only 
me, got any money? 

“Hector pulled out a fat roll of 1 
The woman's eyes tlip-Hopped. 

“Honey Bunch. she said, ‘a single's 
all we need. For take-um taxicab.” 
t away I smelled the badge 
aid so. We argued over who was tell, 
this story. Casimiro won. 

E ied them past Pers 
Square and up Hope Strcet omo Bunker 
Hill. It stopped in front of a three-story 
house with a tower. Possibly а queen 
once lived there, but now it had gone 
democratic. There were seventeen sepa- 
ate mailboxes in front and as they walked 


ned just 


down the ball, the smells of all nations 
me creeping out from under the 
doors. The woman unlocked the last 


one and went in 
around in the dark till she found the 
str at turned the light bulb on. The 
room was very tall, with two tall win 
dows. It was painted park-bench gre 
except the ceiling was dark white with 
brown spots. There was а big iron bed. 
a washstand and а stuffed armchair, 
ich was full of surprises when Hector 
at on it. The woman poured water 
3 bowl and sat on the bed, soaking he 
puffy red feet. And they talked, the 
woman about her boss with his filthy 
; habits and about various sm: 
irlfriend Ethel had mad 
but mostly about her feet. She talked in 
English. of course, and Hector talked in 
the tongue of his fathe 

"'Do you know the 
Mexico when it rises from 
pocket of the night? 


golden sun of 
the black 
“And the 


he said. 


sels of the corn, which give life to the 
bellies of men, how they sparkle in 


the rays of that same sun and turn pu 
gold. which is the same gold as the gold 
of the һай of thy head’ " 
"Quit talking like those М 
hn Steinbeck.” I interrupted 
"Who's John Steinbeck?" 
asked. 
"He was a very rich writer,” 1 sa 
(continued on page 146) 


NEVER EAT ANYTHING 
BIGGER THAN YOUR HEAR 


playboy cartoonist Kliban continues to move in nutty ways, his wonders to perform 


By H. KLIBAN 


БОО ЛД of odhar 


PLAYBOY 


GOLDILOCKS continued from page 112) 


“And you, too, will be a very rich 
writer,” said Casimiro, “if you set down 
this story just like I tell it. And what do 
І get for all my trouble? One miserable 
bottle of beer. 

He turned his bottle upside down. 
Not a drop fell out. 

“What comes next is very romantic, 
he said in a teasy voice. 

I knew I was throwing good beer after 
bad, but I handed him another bottle. 

“By now,” Casimiro went on, “the 
woman's feet were nicely soaked, so her 
corn plaster peeled off very easily and 
she held her foot in her hand and 
spected the corn quite closel 

"Thats very romantic,” I said, dis- 
кимей, “and quite sexy, too. 

“Wait! The woman looks up. What 
does she see? A giant adobe man is 
coming at her with a knife. No use to 
am. А scream brings no one in that 
house. It is the usual tone of voice there. 
"The woman waits with scared eyes. Now 
Hector kneels down before her, knife 
in hand. He dries her foot on his neck- 
tie, Then he shaves off the corn. His 
knife is so sharp she feels nothing, He 
snaps the knife shut and gets to his feet. 

“Ме coming domingo, Sunday,’ he 
said. “Twelve o'clock." 

“He touched the woman's hair, run- 
ning his fingers through it like a rake 
through water. Then he put on his hat 
and left. The woman stared after him 
with her mouth open and one foot in 
the bowl of water.” 

"You bore me!” I shouted. “You and 
your two A.M. and your wolf looks and 
your beds and knives, and then nothing 
happens at all, nothing. And besides, it's 
all lies, because you weren't even there 
to see it." 

“How do you know I wasn't p 
just outside the window?" 
Кей me. 

I had to admit that was an old habit 
of his. He never used plumbing when he 
could help it. 

“OK for this once," I told him, “but 
you might at least tell me what that 
n looked like." 

n't I say she was a blondie?" 
ro asked. "So, naturally, she had 
to be beautiful. But if you want the de- 
ls, she had a piggy little nose and 
very Ише chin, if any. Also, she had the 
habit of keeping her mouth half-open, 
so you could see a jungle of teeth inside 
sprouting out in various directions. May- 
be her face sagged a little, too, and in 
fact her whole shape, but she had pretty 
green eyes, except when you looked into 
them, you could see a long parade of 
men robbing her of her pay, leaving her 
for another woman or kicking her in 
the belly when she was eight months 


ing 
Casimiro 


won 


146 pregnant. Because, you see, she came 


from one of those farmer states back East 
where blondics are the same small change 
as dark ones with us. So anyway," Casi- 
miro went on, "there was Hector knock- 
ing on her door that next Sunday. 

‘We going beach,’ he said. 

“They took the big red car that sai 
VENICE in front. They got off where the 
tracks ended and there was blue ocean 
as far as the woman could see and white 
waves breaking on the sand, She had 
possibly scen rivers back home and may- 
be even a lake, but though she'd lived 
three years in L-A., she'd never seen the 
ocean before. 

7 "It's the cat's pajamas!” she yelled.” 

“The which?" 1 asked. 

"Thats what people said in 1997," 
Casimiro explained. "And a lot of those 
cool and groovy words you use now will 
sound very funny and out of date when 
you get as old as I am. Anyway, the 
woman swung on Hector’s arm while they 
walked across the beach. There were 
very few people present, since it 
the month of March, only some kids 
running in and out of the water and drag- 
ging long snakes of kelp behind them. 
The woman took off her shoes and 
waded in the water and giggled and 
screamed when the waves sucked the sand. 
from under her feet. Hector ran in to keep 
her from falling. The water licked up 
over his high shoes and wetted his trouser 
bottoms, but he stood holding the 
woman's hand while she splashed her fect 
around and laughed up into his face." 

“I'm getting very tired of all those 
feet,” I told Casimiro. "You promised a 
three-beer story and there they are in 
Venice and all Hector does is get his 
pants wet.” 

"How do you know he isn't going 
to drown her out there," Casimiro asked, 
"and maybe rape her, too?" 

So, of course, I had to hand him an- 
other beer. 

“Well,” he said, "when the woman 
got tired of the water, they came out and 
sat on the warm sand." 

“And started counting the grains,” I 
said bitterly, “ ‘опе, two, three, four.’ I 
can see this story will go on forever.” 

“Only to the end of this bottle," Са 
miro promised. “So finally they walked 
back to the arcades, where they bought 
hot dogs from a little cart. Hector ate 
one and the woman ate four and they 
caught the big red car back to town. It 
was dark now. The woman fell asleep. 
Hector put his arm around her to keep 
her little nose from bumping the win- 
dow. People threw them some very angry 
looks, the woman with her golden hair 
nestled against the adobeface man in 
the black hat. You didn’t see much of 
that kind of thing back then, but no- 
body dared to meet Hector's eyes, which 


prowled through that streetcar like 
police dogs. 

‘At the woman's door, Hector held 
out his hand to say good night, but the 
an took it and moved it across va 
ous places on her body, then she touched 
that giant Mexican flagpole of his and 
squeezed it in a friendly way. Hector 
sucked in his breath like a steam whistle 
and she locked the door behind him. 

“ "We gets married,’ Hector told her. 

“ ‘Someday,’ she said. 

“The woman was surprised how slowly 
and respectfully Hector unbuttoned all 
her buttons and took off her clothes. It 
was noon next day before she woke up. 
Hector was long gone and someone was 
pounding on the door. The woman 
grabbed a towel to cover herself and 
opened up and there was her girlfriend 
Ethel. 

"I seen you and him come in,’ Ethel 
ard you at it all night 


“The woman pulled the towel tighter. 
She felt very naked. 

‘I'm ashamed for you, 
"Don't you know what he is? 

“He's a foreign gentleman,’ the wom- 
an said, ‘and he wants to marry me. 

"Нез no foreign gentleman, you dim- 
wi Ethel yelled. *He's a Mex and 
that's the next worst thing to a big 
ck nigger.” 

‘The woman looked around and the 
thing she saw was a curling iron, 
so she threw it at her friend Ethel. And 
the next thing she saw was the coffee- 
pot, so she threw that, too, but it only 
hit the door, because Ethel was already 
gone. 

Just while it so happened you had to 
piss." I suggested, "and 1 hope you spent 
nice day in Venice, too, all buried in 
the sand with only one eye showing: 

"Naturally," said Casimiro, “but on 
Tuesday. I was present in full . be- 
cause after work, Hector asked me to 
speak to the woman for him on account 
of my superior English, but he made me 
get а shoeshine first. It was around six 
o'clock when we walked into the Acropo- 
lis café, and very bustling, but the wom- 
an left her trays and ran straight to 
Hector, and her eyes stared up into his 
big face like little spaniels'." 

"Everybodys got dog eyes in this 
story," I complained. 

“I told her," Casimiro said, "how my 
friend was a sincere and honorable man 
desiring her hand in marriage, so how 
could we reach her father to ask 
consent? But it seems her father was 


Ethel said. 


dead, her mother had disappeared and 
where any uncles or brothers might be, 


the woman didn't know, but speaking 
for herself, the answer was yes. So with 
all the customers shouting for their blue 
plates and the Greck jumping up and 
down, the woman threw her apron on 


1975 R. J. Reynolds Tdbocco Co. 


He does more 
than inhabit. He lives. 
Because he knows. 
He smokes for pleasure. 
He gets it from the blend 
of Turkish and Domestic 
tobaccos in Camel Filters. 
Do you? 


Turkish and 
Domestic Blend 


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


PLAYBOY 


“You're right, Sedgwick . 


it does look 


like a Baltimore Oriole.” 


the floor and we left the Acropolis be- 
hind и: 

“Around the corner was a jewelry 
моге where Spanish was spoken—very 
badly, I might add. The Jew was al- 
ready putting up his shutters for the night, 
but he seemed quite happy to see us. The 
first thing that hit the woman's eye was 
а tray full of diamond rings, very large 
and sparkly and marked down to nine- 
teen ninety-seven. 

*''Ooooo*' she screamed, in heaven. 
“ ‘Falsos! Hector shouted and shoved 
them aside. ‘Fake lies! Plated garbage!” 

“He told the Jew to show us noth- 
ing but twenty-fourkaratgold. wedding 
ands. To check the color, he held each 
one up to his watch and then to the 
woman's golden hair. Finally, he found 
а very wide heavy band that satisfied him. 
The Jew offered easy credit, but Hector 
paid forty dollars cash, which was real 
money in those days, and gave the wom- 
an twenty more to buy her wedding out- 
fit with. 

“We walked the woman home up 
Hope Street. No necd of a taxi this time; 
she trotted along between us like a decr 
on her clickety litde feet, which had 
suddenly quit bothering her. And when 
you looked into her eyes, you could по 
longer scc that big parade of men kick- 
ing her belly back there in the past 
She was as fresh and new as an eight- 
year-old on the. way to her first Com- 
munion. At her door, she begged Hector 


148 to come in and spend the night, but he 


said no. The wedding was set for Fri- 
day afternoon and till then, they mustn't 
even see each other for fear of commit- 
ting а sin without a license. The woman 
couldn't stand to wait. She started spill- 
ing tears, so to cheer her up, Hector left 
her his gold watch for company. 

“That was a Tuesday, as you remem- 
ber. By Thursday night, Hector was as 
impatient as the woman. He had to see 
her one more time to prove she was 
more than just some crazy golden dream 
inside his head. And he dragged me 
along to keep him from sin. There used 
to be a liule toy cable car on Bunker 
Hill that was the quickest way up from 
our side of town. Angels’ Flight, they 
called it, so we paid our pennies and 
up we went. The city lights dropped 
away from under us. When we got out 
at the top, the stars were all around us 
and heaven seemed very dose. Hector 
was dancing around with excitement. He 
ran me down the strect to the big house 
with the tower. We went in and knocked 
on the woman's door, but there was no 
answer." 

"Oh-oh," I said. "I knew it. 
pawned Hector's watch and ran ol 

Casimiro showed me a gummy grin 
that shut me up. 

I wish she had," he said. "Anyway, 
we knocked again. Louder 
“Со ‘way,’ the woman yelled from 
inside, but when she heard Hector's 
voice, she came running to throw open 
the door with a big happy smile on her 
face and a towel around her neck. In 


She 


one hand she held a toothbrush and in 
the other a bowl full of nasty white 
paste. There were patches of paste on 
her golden head, too, and where it was 
parted you could sce hair the color of 
mattress stuffing. Hector stared at it like 
it was a nest of rattlesnakes. 

“What's wrong, Sugar Pie? the woman 
asked. 

“False gold" Hector shouted, just 
like at the jewelers. ‘Fake ! Plated 
garbage!” 

“Honey Bunch, the woman howled, 
"TH never let it slip again. TIL gold it 
every day of my life for you." 

“But Hector was deaf to her. 

“The toothbrush fell onto the floor, 
and so the bowl. The woman's face 
sagged into what it had been before, and 
so did her shape, and that same ugly old 
parade came marching back into her 
еуез. Hector picked up his gold watch. 
It was on her pillow. Probably she'd 
been sleeping with it. But as you know, 

ıs quite generous, so he 
left her the wedding ring for а souvenir, 
and then we closed the door on the 
woman and went on hom 

"Just because she dyed her һай?” I 
yelled. "Hector Martinez? You're lying. 
"There had to be another man in there. 
Or something! 

"Idiot" Casimiro yelled back. "Snot- 
nose! What do you know about life? Do 
the Mexicans got to be saints every time? 
And the blondies always devils?” 

“You're only jealous,” 1 shouted, "be- 
Giuse nobody's gonna bring flowers to 
your funeral, Ict alone gold watches, 
when your spongy old liver finally drinks 
itself to death! That's why you're drag- 
ging Hector down. And even if that 
stupid story could be partway true,” I 
yelled, “it wasn't Hector's fault! He got 
poisoned by that color line and it was 
the blondies drew that line, not us!” 

We were still hollering at each other 
when the gravediggers came. 
how a little respect for the dead,” 
they ordered. 

There werc four of them, so we took 
their suggestion and quietly watched 
while they lowered Hector's coffin into 
the hole and filled it in with dirt and 
stomped it down. 

“Give me my screwdriver back,” Casi- 
miro said. 

I handed it o 


borrow one of 


"Why not their 
shovels?" I asked. 
Casimiro walked on down the hill. I 


stuffed the six-pack under a nearby spray 
of chrysanthemums and drove the old 
man home to his house. As far as I know, 
he never went back for the watch, so no 
doubt it kept on ticking away steady as 
a heartbeat till the next Thursday, and 
after that, everything was quiet in Hec- 
tor Martinez grave out there at the 
Calvary Cemetery. 


21st CENTURY FLIX ког fron page 92) 


find much of this gear so technically ad- 
vanced that you could spend weeks trying 
everything for the first time. Whether to 
espouse a cause or simply to mark your 
pass 
up onc of these instruments and, with per 
fection and pizzazz, shoot almost anything. 

ОГ the 120-odd ѕирег-8 models on the 
market, there are a dozen that in some 
form will produce spectacular results on 
your movie screen (or on your TV set 
if you care to invest $1695 in the Kodak 
Supermatic film video player, a piece of 
science-fiction electronics that displays 
movies on as many TVs as you саге to 
hook it to). This does not suggest that 
the remaining horde of cameras is with- 
out virtue. But the ones selected here 
have, in one form or another, а special 
claim on movie magic 

Several of these cameras can. 
ample, produce the effect known as the 
dissolve. It's a form of transition in 
which one shot gradually grows weaker 
until it vanishes, while a superimposed 
shot gradually takes over the screen. 
Traditionally, the dissolve has been used 
to mark the passage of time, a form of 
visual shorthand that deletes the insig- 
nificant while we move along to the next 
major event. But contemporary film 
makers have found it too attractive to 


je 


n this mortal coil, you can pick 


for ex- 


relegate it to saying "later," so they've 
used it to characterize certain kinds of 
moods. It can be almost lyrical as the 
two shots meld, an exchange of domi- 
nance occurring while they are momen- 
tarily overlapped. The gentle way one 
shot Ieads to the next can reinforce a 
spirit of peacefulness or love, embellish- 
ing and strengthening the point estab- 
lished by the script and other elements of 
the movie. By caressing the eye and the 
nervous system behind it. the dissolve 
demonstrates how the medium can be- 
come the message. 

Until recently, there were two ways to 
make a dissolve: with great difficulty and 
with great expense. there are six 
manufacturers producing cameras that 
create dissolves at the touch of a button 
and for free. 

While the meaning of the dissolve has 
gone beyond its original one (its "inven- 
tion” is often attributed to D. W. Grif- 
fith). the fade-in and the fade-out have 
retained their traditional, rather literary 
function. They mark the beginnings and 
ends of episodes within а movie—by 
turning the screen gradually black dur- 
ing a fade-out and by going from black 
to full visibility in a fade-in. Their func- 
tion in filmic narrative is approximately 
the same as chapters in a novel. Fades 


Now 


were once cumbersome and costly to pro- 
duce. Now, in a fair number of supers, 
they require the sliding of a lever at their 
most complex or the pushing of a but- 
mplest. 
a device called inter- 
the creates 
time lapse. This compresses the passage 
of time so that the otherwise impercep- 
tible becomes highly visible. Take some- 
thing as commonplace as the start of a new 
day. You've probably been aware of that 
red orb lounging near the horizon and 
you've known that the next time you turn 
around itll be noon. But what about the 
events that precede and follow the sunrise? 
Have you scen the sky change from faint 
blue to vague pink, then to blood red in 
the portion that finally yields the ruddy 
ball of the sun: or the change of that 
sphere into blazing yellow while the field 
around it becomes enriched? It happens 
cach day, regularly as clockwork. But 
until you've caught it on time-lapse film. 
you have probably missed some of it. 
Such visual complexities are the out 
come of a technically simple premise: 
When the projector shows things at 
rate faster than the camera has filmed 
them, the result is an apparent acceler- 
ation of motion. The interv 
poses movie frames one at a time at 
rate, let's say, of one per second. 1f the 


ton at their 5 
Consider 
valomet 


the 


mechanism t 


lometer ex 


{CAND POTTLED IN SCOTLAND + PIENDEO SCOTCH WHISKY ~ B6 PROOF - PHOTO: PEBBLE BEACH. MONTEREY. CAL 


...and now its time 


fora Cutty. 


149 


PLAYBOY 


150 


projector runs that film at 18 frames per 
second (the standard amateur speed), it 
will present in one second the events 
that took 18 to occur in reality. Reduce 
the intervalometer's opcration to one 
frame per minute and in one second 
you'll see on the screen more than a 
quarter hour's activities. 

Five manufacturcrs—Bauer, Elmo, Bo- 
lex, Minolta and Nizo—produce cameras 
whose built-in intervalometers can work. 
at rates from six frames per second to one 
per minute: three are listed on the chart 
on opposite page. (The sunrise, by the 
way. generally looks best at a rate of be- 
tween one frame every five and one frame 
every ten seconds.) If you're after some- 
thing a little less cosmic than celestial 
movement, you can play the intervalome- 
ter for laughs. An especially pressured day 
can be characterized by turning a normal 
car ride into something that nearly doubles 
the speed of sound. Or if someone is 
willing 10 move with excruciating slow 
nes for the intervalometer, your movie 
might show a person trapped in a world 
that goes much too fast for him. As 
people go whizzing past him, you can 
make a droll or cynical commentary on 
nything from science fiction to meta- 
physics to that old outof-step-with-the- 
world kind of fecling 
А technique newer to movies than 
me lapse is the time exposure, in which 
the shutter remains open for a longer 
time for each frame than the usual 
1/40th of a second or so. You've prob- 

bly seen plenty of time exposures in 


still photographs, invariably in night- 
time shots in which the headlights and 
taillights of automobiles appear as streaks 
of white and red etched across the pic- 
ture. The technique has become practical 
for movies only in the past couple of 
years through cameras from Bauer and 
Nizo, which, by virtue of showing move- 
ment, make the technique all the more 
fascinating, 

If, for example, you can get far 
enough away to view a whole city, you'll 
find that at night the sky above it is not 
really black. Instead, it glows with a 
yellowish halo, lights bounced up from 
the streets. An exposure of about 90 
seconds per frame captures the bubble 
of light, with the outlines of skyscrapers 
st; | bold relief. Clouds become a 
seething. formless mass as they blur on 


cach frame; the sky sparkles with mys- 
terious streaks as aircraft circle; and 
entire sections of buildings become 


magically lighted or darkened as unscen 
custodians move from floor to floor. 

The time exposure lends itself to 

ions and special effects. But. 

ain old everyday cond 

ı which light is weak? For loca- 

where light is low, manufacturers 


tions 
have created XL cameras. They have 


ster-than: 
spe 
what extends exposure time (roughly 
1/30: of a second per frame) and they 
use a highspeed color film that is about 
four times as light-sensitive as regular 


nal lenses (f/14 or better) 
Пу designed shutter that some- 


nd 


“If there were a girl who met your requirements, 
she would have been arrested a long time ago!” 


color film. Put all these characteristics 
together and you can shoot in normal 
room light or in the faint dawn and 
dusk illumination that leaves conven- 
tional cameras in the dark. 

Besides eliminating the bother and di: 
comfort (and accasior 
lights normally required indoors, XL 
cameras produce results that look natural 
and more attractive. Regular room light- 
ing is soft, gently molding the contours 
that tend to appear harsh and flattened 


1 danger) of movie 


under movie lights. And when not put in 


the spotlight, people do their u 
as if they weren't being watched. 

Most of the XL cameras are less fully 
equipped than the other cameras under 
discussion. XLs were originally designed 
Tor people who consider their kids’ birth- 
day parties a major source of drama. How- 
ever, the XL concept is too good to be 
restricted to such use. One manufacturer— 
Elmo—has already introduced an XL cam- 
era that is as sophisticated as anything on 
the market. Other manufacturers should 
soon follow suit. 

While die. Elmo is the first XL to 
incorporate extensive visual versatility 
others have another capability that has 
caused a stir in the past few years: 
sound. These are known as single-system 
ecord- 


g almost 


sound cameras, because the sounda 


g apparatus records directly onto spc- 
cially equipped film. The sound tracks are 
just fine for recording the human voice, 
ily comparable to what you're accus- 
tomed 10 hearing from a good TV set. 
Since all these machines have tic 
level control to govern. sound-recording 
volum: ing talkies is about a 
as shooting silents; the only extra con: 
ation is where to position your micro- 
phone. 

Singlesystem movies are aimed pri- 
marily at the mass market, making 
economy a virtue that teams with thei 
simplicity. While there is a trend toward 
sophistication in the newer models, the 
fact is that no present single-system in- 
strument is capable of any of the special 
effects of the other super-8s. Moreover, 
while singlesystem movies are admirably 
suited for projection in their original 
form, they do not lend themselves to such 
extensive postproduction work as film and 
sound editing or sound mixing and dub- 
bing. Films that аге to undergo these 
ambitious (a.k.a. professional) stages of 


completion are better made when the 
sound is recorded by the doublesystem 
approach. Here, a specially equipped 


tape recorder, such as the Optasound 
1168 unit, is run in synchroniza 
the camera. If your cinematic plans lean 
toward the lavish, it will please you to 
know that all of the more advanced 
super-8s can make sound movies by this 
method. 

ardless of their total production 


ion with 


capability, the most advanced super-8 
cameras still pay homage to the amateur 
for whom they were invented —someone 
whose biggest technical hurdle each day 
is turning a key in a lock. Through-the- 
lens view finders and electric eyes (with 
some form of manual exposure override 
in all the cameras featured here, to han- 
dle those conditions that bewilder robots) 


make technical imperfections something 
you almost have to work at to achieve. 
Film packaged in snap-in plastic car- 
tridges is almost impossible to load in- 
correctly and is practically invulnerable 
to accidents. 

The outcome of all this is that movies 
are better than ever. Choose your weap- 
on from the chart below and come out 


shooting. Given a few bucks to spend, 
you can film whatever turns you on— 
from Keystone Cop humor to making 
your erotic dreams come true. One thing's 
for sure: Nobody's going to refer to your 
creations as (pardon the expression) 
home movies. 
Bg 


PLAYBOY'S GUIDE TO SUPER-8 MOVIE CAMERAS 


F/18, 7-70mm. 
(1041 ratio) 
macro” zoom; 
focus from 5 ft. 


DISSOLVE| FADE 


TIME 


ПАРЅЕ EXPOSURE, 316 


ЅҮЅТЕМ 


OTHER 


FEATURES ши 


Reverse run; superimposition; 
vorioble shutter; running 
speeds of 12, 18, 24, 54 fps; 
outo & full monuol exposure 
control 


тосто? zoom; 
focus from 5 ft. 


F/14, 1-T0mm Superimposition; vorioble $875 
(10:1 ratio) shutter; running speeds of 18, 

mocro? 200m; 24, 54 fps; outo & full 

focus from 5 ft. manuol exposure control 

F/18, 6.5-78mm ҮсгісЫе shutter; running $924 
(12:1 rotio) speeds of 8, 12, 1 


32, 5A fps, with high- 
speed power pack; auto & 
full топиб! exposure control 


SUPERSOPHISTICATED MODELS 


perimposition; 
vorioble shutter; running 
speeds of 18, 24, 54 fps; ошо) 
& full manuol exposure control} 


F/1.8, 7-80mm 
(ПА ratio) 


F/1.2, 840mm 
(5:1 ratio) zoom; 
focus from 5 ft. 


5 
auto & full monvol 
exposure control 
Running speeds of 9, 18, 24, | $469.50 
36 fps; outo & full manual 
expasure control 


(5:1 гоно) 
matro? zoom; 
focus from 4 Н. 


XL MODELS. 


F/1.2, 742mm 
(6:1 rotio) 


Running speeds of 9, 18, 
36 fps; outo & full manual 
exposure control 


Vorioble shutter; running 
speeds of 6, 18, 24, 54 fps; 
ufo & full manual exposure 
control 


NOTE: The obove chart is o representative sompling of super- movie comeros currently on the market; it does not list all models nor cttempt to be comprehensive, Comero prices ore 
approximations on some models ond may vary depending on locole. 


Refers ta intervalometer built into camera only; with separate accessory intervalometer, oll other comeros on this list except the three single-system sound machines con produce time-lopse movies. 


"Some camera is available with lower-ratio 200m I 
Macro lenses con be adjusted for extreme close focusi 
oway; Minolta 012 macro range extends ta 16 feet oway. 


operating o speciol switch enables them to focus over a range that extends from the edge of the lens itself to obout two or three feet 


‘Identical camera 1o the GAF 505XLis sold os the Bolex 550XL; only difference is hot GAF versioa is avoilable with choice of 10 or 24 fps running speed, while Bolex version is avoiloble with 18 fps only. 


heredity was seriously in question be- 
cause his mother had obviously been 
one of the great whores of history. 
Bertolucci is neither impressed пог 
disturbed by the female adulation his 
partner ацга 
fourteen-y 
“What can you do with a fourteen-year- 
old that will not get you into jail 
Actually, маъ adoring are 
not all. H-yearolds. One Philadelphia 
matron, who spent the entire tournament 


PLAYBOY 


trying to run him down, announced to 
friends, “Boy, wouldn't I like to 
have him for a couple of nights!” She 


her 
was wi t illustrated with 
kets over an awesome set of 
nd proclaiming TENNIS 15 мү 


boobs 


Game. In Richmond, Virginia, a blonde 


called up on their last day there and asked 
for a date. Bertolucci, who answered the 
phone, told her to pick them up in a 
white convertible and to bring a friend 
long. Forty minutes later, a white Cadil- 
lac convertible, with two blondes inside, 
pulled up in front of the hotel. 

So it isn't 


much to 
he benefits from the 
Especially now, since Adriano's 
t year to а rich and very 
ian girl named Rosaria. 
Like Leporello, who grabbed off Don 
Giovanni's discards, Paolo has inherited 
more than a few of Adr ings. It. 
saves him the trouble, for one thing, of 
finding his own, a process that can prove 
exhausting to а man whose favorite oc- 
cupations are sleeping and с: 
order. A couple of Adr 
girls were two Italian starlets noted for 
the lack of prudishness with which they 
publicly display the magnificent physical 


no's lea 


appurtenances a benevolent nature has 
idly bestowed upon them. "Paolo's 


so ki 
only problem,” Р: 


itta expla 


s, "is stay- 


ing awake long enough. Mamma mia, 
what a phenomenon!” 

The Stockholm tournament was held 
in the i 


Ісе Stadium, an indoor hockey 
bout 90 minutes by car from 
ter of town. Two bright-green, 
faced courts had been laid out 
tone end of the facility and the sound 
of tennis balls being hit very hard by 
tice exploded between 


the players 
sou 


ng rows of empty seats that Dillon 
d the Swedish promoters hoped would 
be filled by the time play finally got 
o'clock. 
The tournament's star attraction there, 
obviously was Borg. who was seeded 
second behind Ashe, W.C.T. had sent 
out three touring groups of players, of 
which this one, the Green Group. also 
included such stars as Tom Okker, Kim 
ind Buster Mottram. 

jor problem in Stockholm, 
152 Dillon felt, was keeping the players i 


under way that evening at si 


TENS CON MORE: conici trom ке» 


terested, si 
for 


nce by that time Ashe and 
instance, had already, like 
ad McMil im Ше doubles, 
ned enough wi points to пай 
down two of the е able in 
nd clearly 
the incentive that drove the players to 
put out during the opening leg of the 
tour had faded. The mystery to 
was why the Italians had never car 

enough to try from the start, especially 
after they'd done so well in the doubles 
that halfway through they had seemed 
certain to make it ro Mexico City. "They 
only really work hard when they're at 
Dillon said. as he glumly watched 
Pa a and Bertolucci take the court 
They can beat anybody in Italy, and 
have, but abroad they fool around 
Fooling around, the Italians feel, keeps 
them sane. The money they can. vin on 
the tour is not so important to them, 
се they both carn much larger sums 
from endorsements дй business invest- 
ments in Italy, and the pro tour is a 


home,’ 


grind. Playing tennis day in and day 
out is a grind. Panaua and Bertolucci 


have been at it since they were big 
enough to hold a racket. They first met 
in the finals of a tournament when they 
were ten, which Рапаца won 6-4, 6-2, 
thus establishing the basic pattern of 
their professional and personal relation- 
ships right from the start. Neither boy 
had any choice about what he would 
do in life, since tennis offered the easiest 
way out of the modest circumstances of 
their social backgrounds. Panatta's father 
was a custodian, a job one step above 
that of janitor, zt the Parioli, а very 
chic, very snobbish private tennis club 


g pro 
sort town on the с 
abandoned amusement pirk during the 
winter months. Taly is overcrowded and 
poor, not exactly a land of opportunity, 
and what else could these two kids have 
done to bust out and make it big? 
lon was right about the way they 
played. Watching them on the practice 
1 was а delight, testified to by the 


t that resembles 


eager looks on the [aces of the dozen 
teenage groupis who had somehow 
wangled their way into the stadium 


e dustered at Panatta's end. of 
the court, watching him play. He holds 
the racket way down at the very end 
of the grip and strokes the ball with 
the grace of a large cat, smashing over- 


and w 


heads and serves that are as hard and 
accurate as any in the game. Opposite 
him. Bertolucci looks immobile and out- 


classed, until you notice that he seems 
the right place on the 
court and that the ball comes back off 
his racket with weight and top spin, 
landing almost always wit aches of 
the base line. His nickname in Italy is 


Golden Arm, because he seems to do 
everything on the court without moving 
iything but that one part of his body. 
He looks easy. but he can beat almost 
anybody when he wants to, and has. His 
only problem is that he hardly ever wants 
d his singles point total on the tour 


the lowest of all the players, а 
least 


incon that did not im the 
disconcert him. 

Even in a practice session. Pa 
Bertolucci refuse to work h 
court. next to them were the other two 
Italians on the tour, Corrado Barazzutti 
and Antonio Zugarelli, known to every- 
one in the group he other two. 
Because they are one noich down in the 
pecking order, they are more serious 
about their work. but they, too, can be 


yd been hiuing away for about 20 
minutes of their scheduled hour, Panatta 
hegan belting balls into the other cou 
а tactic that ded to exchanges of lobs 


practice ses 
the groupies. 

Winning isn't everything, the Italia 
feel: getting through life with a few 
laughs and a of anguish 
Panaua and Bertolucci began to put 
this theory into. practice when they were 
n their teens and at school together in 
а all s 


CORSE berwe’ 
Naples and Rome that has an advanced 
tennis program and where the country's 
most promising young players are sent 
10 be trained. 

Their crowning achievement was an 
April Fools Day caper that suckered the 
whole town. Ad posters and handbills 
inced during the previous wee 
on April first there would be a 
rial display over the town 
a descent imo the football 
stadium by a trained team of daredevil 
parachutisis. By midafiernoon of the 
great day. the stadium was packed w 
thousands of onlookers 
р: Bertoluc their 
hustled soft drinks and candy in the 
stands. When they'd made enough of 
profit and had prudently grouped them- 
selves near the exits, two of the students 
ran out into the middle of the playing 
field. They were dressed in old-fashioned 
suits and one of them 
ried а stepladder, the other an um- 
The student with the umbrella 
ed the stepladde 


town 


and 


fier which the stunned public was in- 
formed over the publicaddress system 
that the daredevils had just done their 
ищ and the aerial display was ov 
By the time the startled crowd had be- 
gun to turn into an angry mob, Panat 
Bertolucci and their friends were al- 
ready speeding away from the scene. 

The jokes they play on the tour do 


"Your wife just earned one hell of a deal on a set 


of encyclopedias, fella; don't blow it!” 


153 


PLAYBOY 


184 


“Kemosabe, the tribe is saying you wear the mask because 
you're ashamed of our relationship!" 


not always amuse their fellow players. 
Mottram, the 21-year-old English star, 
was one of their frequent. victims, 
but then Mottram is a natural patsy. He 
thinks of nothing but tennis and money 
and has been known to threaten 
waitresses and cabdrivers with physical 
mayhem. In Rotterdam, the Italians per- 
suaded him one night that a blonde, 
nymphomaniacal groupie named Inge 
was crazy about him and that she would 
be contacting him in his room, with 
fellatio and. other elaborate delights in 
mind. Моц n waited for hours, then de- 
scended into the lobby of the hotel, 
where he found the Italians sitting inno- 
cently around. "Buster," Panatta said, 
"why you did not come down? Inge was 
here waiting for you, but she has just 
left with Okker.” 

The Italians divided th fellow 
players on the tour into two main cate- 
gories, the bravi ragazzi, or good guys. 
and the drearies. The good guys can be, 
like Ashe and Borg, players who take 
their tennis very seriously but have 
nevertheless remained bearable human 
beings, or happy-go-lucky types like 
ic, whose best days are behind. 
him and for whom tennis is a means, пог 


a crusade. The drearies, on the other 
hand, can qualify on any of many counts. 
Mottram, of course, was a leading 
dreary. So was Warwick, the young 
Australian whose court manners were 
among the worst anywhere. So was Hans 
Kary, the Austrian who fancied himself a 
- In Johannesburg, he asked Steve 
an player with 
‚ how he had 
managed to escape from Kruger Park, the 
game preserve, and he liked to remind 
Okker, whose teeth are widely spaced, to 
comb them. "Is good yoke, по?” Kary 
ed laughingly after such sallies, The 
world, the Italians feel, teems with drear- 
ies and they deserve whatever happens 
to them. 

Toward the end of the Italians’ prac- 
tice session, Freddy McNair, one of the 
and leas-known players on the 
sed on his way to the locker 
room to take in the action. "You know, 
maybe I should take up Italian training 
methods," he mused. “Гус been working 
like hell on my game, I don't drink, I 
don't stay up late, I don't screw around 
and all 1 do is lose. I've lost seven singles 
matches in а row. There's a moral in 
here someplace.” 


The dreary Bertolucci disliked most 
in the Green Group was Onny Parun, 
the tall, gangling New Zealand player 
who looks like an aging cart horse and 
who practices with humorless concen- 
ion several hours a day, every day, 

or lose, "I hate him,” Bertolucci 
said when he found out he'd d 
un in the first round, but he wasn't 
about to be lured into a real effort to 
beat him. He tries against Parun only 
in Italy, where he has trounced him. 
Elsewh he contents himself with 
making Parun run, drop-shatting to lure 
him into the net, lobbing to force him 
back to the base line. Their match in 
Stockholm was the last one scheduled 
that ht, which caused Paolo to ob- 
serve, “What the hell am I doing out 
here, playing at midnight? I'm going 
to lose, but I'll make him die." Parun 
won, all right, but at the end of the 
match, he was in a lather and Bertolucci 

as bone-dry. 
ша worked a lot harder than his 
partner, but he, too, was bounced out in 
the first round, by another Swedish 
qualifier who played what turned out to 
be the match of his life and squeaked by 
7-6, 6-7, 7-5. (The qualifiers are hungry, 
they have the world to gain and they 
often pull off this kind of upset, only 
to disappear again forever) Panatta, 
however, does not like to lose, even 
when he's dearly not 
he worked hard, stampi 
the court and swearing in Roman when 
ever the match turned against him. Н 
antics enchanted the groupies, who 
squealed and clapped every time their 
hero made a point. “Adriano is in his 
element," Bertolucci observed during 
the match. "You see, his ideal is not to 
play tennis but to be a star. The high 
moment for him is when he walks onto 
the court, dressed in his newest and most 
elegant clothes.” Panatta’s i 
American city was Richmond, where 
article in a local magazine had de- 
scribed him as "one of the handsomest 
men in Europe.” “They're inte 
here,” Panatta had informed Bertolucci 
“This is a . But what would 
you know? You 

"Toward the ei 
blowing an 
denly hit a ball a 
straight up toward the ceiling. As the 
sped, the ball soared above the 
then plunged back toward 
Pa 
natta caught it on his racket and walke 
back toward the base line to serve. The 
crowd applauded and roared with admi 
tion. It was a stunt he'd first pulled in 
Richmond, during his match with Ashe, 
to whom he usually loses. It had wowed 
cverybody there, too, and he'd been pull- 
ing it off ever since. What one was liable 
to remember best from this or any match 


lights. 
the floor. With nonchalant gr 


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was the stunt. itself, not the final score, 
nd wasn't that the whole point, after all? 
anatta does have а way of upstaging 
everyone. At the beginning of the tow 
for instance, Borg, a teenage idol. w 
getting most of the attention. Panatta's 
technique was to put him on. When 
Borg was playing, Panatta would sud- 
denly leap to his feet in the stands and 
shout, "I want picture of Björn Borg 
Or he'd corner members of the press 
and tell them, "About me, you must only 
y 1 am friend of Björn Borg.” In 
Philadelphia, wh trying to 
sn 
E 


PLAYBOY 


? 1 Borg wa 
out of the arena onc night to avoid 
arms of autograph hunters. 
stood up and shouted, "Not to worry, 
everybody! I ат maseur Björn Borg! I 
will show you where he Then. pe 
ing dramatically at Borg. who was trying 
to lose himself in the crowd: "Dont 
worry, Borg, I come with you, everything 
will be all right 

Most players, including Panatta, han- 
dle the autograph fiends. mostly kids. 
with tolerance, but Bertolucci has his 
own system. He signs himself Aldo 
Moro or Amintore Fanfani, a couple of 
prominent Italian politicans, or else 
useppe Verdi or Garibaldi. At а cock- 
ib party thrown for the players in 
Richmond. everyone was given a т 
to weir, Panatta signed himself 


. under Aldo Moro's n 
“Til pay $60 for a blow job." He got 
away with it until late in the evening, 
en а handsome middle-aged society 
lady of linguistic ability pee.ed closely 

t the tag, then chucked sorrowfully to 
herself and shook her head. “Inflati 
must be very bad in Italy,” she said. 

In the locker room, after his ma 
аа bumped into MeN 
imed at him. “Too bad, Adriano," he 
id. "but there must. be someth 
these 1 p methods. I 
up till four last night, fucking my brains 
out, and I just won," 

The doubles part of the tournament 
dida't get under way until the third 
night. The Italians did not train at all 
for it but spent most of the time in their 
room or at the movies in downtowi 
Stockholm. They averaged 5100 a day 
im room service, which now answered 
their calls with cheerful hellos. Once, 
when Paolo picked up the phone, the 
operator simply began Laughing when she 
d his voice. After all, his last order 
had been for $47 worth of hamburg: 
awhile, through the rest of the 
permanent floating party seemed 

to be in progress. The players clustered 
about the piano bar in the cocktail 
lounge. while ble girls sat around 
in bunches, waiting to be picked up. 
They never had to wait ve 
God" McNair said, “everything they 
told me about Sweden was true! I can't 
156 believe it!” Obviously, his newly adopted 


w 


Italian training methods were still pay- 
ing off; after another hard night, he 
won his second-round match in straight 
sets. 

A few of the players stayed out of the 
action, among them Ashe. who was play- 
ing the best tennis of his life. He was 
avowedly determined to win in Dallas 
and go on to take Wimbledon. Pan: 
newly married about it, hung 
around but only 10 watch, leaving Ber- 
tolucci upstairs in bed. "Paolo was ha 
piest in the States" he i 
“because there he could He in. bed and 
watch Star Trek and Mission: Impos 
sible. which are his two favorite pro 


grams.” Late one night, just to have а 
litle fun. Panatta spirited a drunkei 


Swedish couple up to their room, The 
woman, a fading blonde in her late 305, 
was game for anything and kept giggling 
at Bertolucci, who stayed flat on his back 
in bed: but her escort, between endless 
bottles of beer, told long, boring stories 
about what he called “topical Swedish” 
s is a shitherd,” Bertoluc- 
ve him two dollars and send 


ci said. " 


у. 


that same night, just before 
dawn, two 13 old groupies knocked 
on their door and Panatta let them in. 
Even this potential bonanza failed to 
arouse Bertolucci, who suffered in silence 
through Panatta’s teasing banter with 
the girls, one of whom insisted they were 

ys. "You are boys?" Panatta es 
h, then is no problem!” He 
suddenly pulled down the sheets from 
Bertolucci’s bed, revealing him fla- 
grante erectione, The girls fled. To 
Paolo's screams of rage, Panatta an 
swered, “Asshole, the age of consent her 
is twelve. Are you a pederast? 

In the fast round of the doubles, the 
Italians faced Mottram and Dick Dell, 
а lelt-handed American with I 
ing strokes and a nice net game. They 
lost the first set 6-3 and were down ii 
the second 5-3, with Mottram serving, 
"You sec?" Dillon said up in the press 
box. "You can't win if you don 
As if they had overheard him, Ps 
and Bertolucci began hitting winners all 
over the court. They ran out the match 
7-5. 6-1. "We no lose to someone like 
Mouram,” Panata explained. "Tonight 
we call room service for him. 

The next afternoon, Dillon arrived at 
the Ice Stadium to find the Italians, all 
four of them, at practice. But they were 
not exactly playing tennis, Bertolucci 
had dreamed up a sort of soccer game 
version that involved the use of heads, 
arms. hips, knees and feet but mot 
rackets. The contest was spirited but not 
calculated to pl Dillon, who was 
probably beyond pleasing by that time. 
Borg had also been wiped out in thc 
doubles and people were not overwhelm- 
ing the ticket booths for the final rounds. 
Parun was set to face Ashe in the semis 
and clearly had no chance; like Ashe, he 


Later 


ys а serve and volley game that Ashe 
imply plays а lot better. In the other 
ingles, McNair, still sleepless and hung 
was going up against Okker, whose 
game rarely varies and who beats cvery- 
one but the very best. Now, if Panatta 
nd Bertolucci, who were at least color- 
ful. could just make it to the finals of 
the doubles against Ashe and Okker. . . . 
But Dillon was skeptical. 

With reason, it turned ош. Panatta 
and Bertolucci lost, to "the other two, 
7-6, 7-6, for the first time ever. They 
obviously didn't care and at no point 
1 the match could they get themselves 
up for it. as they had at the last minute 
against Mottram and Dell They came 
off the court grinning. “Ah, now we can 
go home,” Bertolucci said, “where is the 
sun. I am never coming to Stockholm 
ain, 

On their way to the a 
ig. the Ital 
who had fin 


port the next 
1 а taxi with 
ly lost to Okker, 


6-2, in a match that had heen 
lot tougher than the score indicated. 
Italian training methods,” Freddy 


mused. “Theyre great, but I've got to 
get some sleep. Where are you guys 


I like England. 
” Bertolucci observed. “I stay 


in haly. Theres a tournament in 
Florence. 

“I'm going there, too," Freddy s 
After Nice.” 


"Freddy," arned him, “don't 
Paolo in Italy. No one but me 


1olucci "Next year I stay home. 

“Unless we play for the Stick-It-Up- 
Your-Ass Cup," Panatta said. "You 
know what is Süick-Ir-U p-Your-Ass, 
p? 105 Bertolucei’s new rules. Tell 
him, Paolo.” 

“Is the ideal tournament,” Bertolucci 
explained, “With my rules. First, players 
must not practice more than ten minutes 
. Second, players must stay up till 
four A.M. every morning. Three, playe 
must smoke minimum ten cigarettes 
ne with their 

ош, players must sleep min 
twelve hours a night 

"Five Panatta interrupted, 
points T 

"Six," Bertolucci continued, “all 
matches are played in service courts only. 
Seven, there is special award for most teen- 
ge girls banged during tournament. That 
is for the Stick-It-Up-Your-Ass Cup." 
"d play in that one,” McNair said. 
could qualify now." 

“The most beautiful thing is 
sighed, “that with such 
what does it matter who wins? 


the 


mes 


"extra. 


ча 
tournament, 


PARKINS' PLACE шг from page 90) 


world today—you're left with tears rolling 
down your cheeks for a better reason. 


„1 believe in love. Absolute- 


volved right now, 
LA. You ngs other 
however. I passion 
but wish 1 spoke more 
nd spoke them better. 1 dr 
ol getting pregnant and usi 
months 10 indulg 
not 
the 


myself. stud, 
the 


pregnant at poem di 


mill l one m 
Meu, because 1 honestly like them. My 
closest hii men. M my 
mother, too, а very special lady. the most 
important person in my Ше. And money. 
Oh. yes. Hike money, so 1 Чиге my 
pleasures and do the th int to do. 
Money i 

we like it or not. 

—how about nudity? I'm very self- 
conscious about my nude body. Mostly 
becuse Fd preter 10 wonderlul 
kind of African, c е body. which is not 
what Гус got. H E had to perform nude 
the screen, І wouldirt. relish it—though 
Yd probably agree if the director were 
Kubrick, 
O—well, Гуе talked aba 
now IIL talk about Ryan O'Neal. Among 
Il the people from Peyton Place, he 
id E have remained best friends. 1 think 
gets Guried а sometimes, De- 
cause he’s basically a fighting Irish 
He likes his house at the beach, likes to 
work out, play Frisbee, have his woman 
there. But he's a hard worker, very talent- 
ed, and he's becoming ar. That's 
rough to handle iu the b ming. until 
you mellow it all ош. Of course, the ulti- 
mate О is Olivier—for me, he's the epit- 
ome ol screen romance. 

Р—1 guess my pet peeve is snoring. 
Hearing, someone snore. And I don't like 
pornography, which has become an obses- 
sion among movie people. 1 don't find it 
sensual or sexy or a turnon. Though 1 
saw Emmanuelle aud. enjoyed it. 1 guess 
because it was very feminine and the 
bodies were beautilul, which is nice to see 
on the screen. 

“Q first qua Гг 
queen ol England. On the personal level, 
1 feel quarreling is very, very important 
for a relationship—so long as you can talk 
things out, come back together with ten- 
demes and don't Lipse into the madness 
ol physically beating each other. As for 
the queen, all that's not amusing anymore, 
ince it’s been revealed she's one of the 
wealthiest women in the world. She has no 
| power or position and she's earning 
huge sums of money for nothing—es 
10 keep the English people supplied 
pomp and pageantry, which costs them a 


M has 


nds are is lor 


ave 


to the 


re 


lot, much more than they сап afford 
nowadays. 

“RTI take romance, who wouldn't 
Life would be very dull without 
sometimes wish 1 had lived in By 
day. When you received a love letter thi 
it was poetry. I'd like to play old-fashioned 
romantic roles. maybe a remake of Wath 
ering Heights . . . but they oller me 
police stories dealing with spi 
cotics. АШ that Old. World roma 
to make way lor plastics, cubed 
ded in little 


ppers on TWA. 
is wonderful, of comse. T 
male sex myself. Sexiness. 
ad superiority 
all qualities 1 look for in a man. Not tc 
superiority or do Dur I like to 
feel 1 is stronger than Tam, because 
I don't believe I'm actually a strong pei 
son. 1 may project that image 
ways. but that’s basically a front. My pro- 
tection. no doubt 

T is for travel, trains. Lam just mad 
about t ns. On M the 
voyages must be to 
Siberian Railroad. I did take 
through Russia once. from Lenin 


merica, Afri 
k my wander lu 
me t0 the Far East soon. Looking 
distant future, I suspect I'm 
a world traveler instead of 


mo the 


U—what comes under U? 
Used c They remind me of the worst 


Jnise: 


of L.A. Used cars I'd raher nor u 
about, since I'll be going to Cal 


lous seal violence on all sides— 
the Irish terrorists im England, and so 
forth, 1 was in Harrods once during 
bomb scare, when someone phoned to say 
they'd planted a bomb in the store. Every- 
one reacted with a st Kind of calm 1 
don't understand. In America, however, 
I'm afraid people would get hysterical and 
start a stampede. . . . 1 hope Fm wrong. 

"W-—let me keep away from оте 
lib, a subject 1 find tremendously bori 
When my agent sends me a script 
dressed to Ms. kins, I tell him Em Miss 
Parkins, thank you. Perhaps I'm not u 
wtiuned to other women. 1 don't to 
lundi with women; I have very few 
women friends. 1 prefer wom the 
ularly a real woman, some- 
none Si 

“X—I am ignorant about Ns. I'm not 
Ned, l'm not anything. E hope. 

SY is for youth. Youth i 
ought to last much, much longe 
to keep a youthful mind. а youthful 
figure. . . . In London, I studied at the 
Dance Center in Covent Garden and 
work hard at keeping my body young. ПУ 
exhausting but impo 
lin a 700, 


a 


з on 


noret. 


теп" we? 


xit Barbara, laughing—and quite 
obviously going places.) 


Allright, already! It's a beauty 


! Now let's 


see whal you can do with и!” 


157 


PLAYBOY 


158 


LPO FILTER CIGARET au 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has 
Determined That Cigarette Smoking 


Is Dangerous to Your Health 


Filter: 20 mg. "tar", 1.5 mg nicotine 
‘av. per cigarette by FTC method, 


| 
EI 


HAUTEBURGER 


(continued from page 119) 
mayonnaise-type spread, the constituents 
of which McDonald's mercifully shrouds 
in secrecy. 

There's general agreement on the cri- 
teria for an all-American hamburger. 
You want it crusty on the outside but not 
petrified, plump aud slightly puffy rather 
than dense, moist, oozing juices—prefer- 
ably ruddy juices—and it must have a 
dean beefy taste and aroma. The degree 
of cooking and scasoning is subjective, 
but hamburger. purists prefer theirs rare 
to medium rare and moderately spiced— 
lt, pungent pepper, perhaps а whisper 
of onion, a touch of garlic and not much 
else, or the lusty beefy quality will be 
masked. 

Hamburger is simple food and, like most 
simple dishes, ficult to prepare 
superbly. Everything depends on the beef 
nd the handling, and there's very little 
margin for error—no complex sauces or 
esoteric spices to cover up shortcomings. 
Feinschmeckers in quest of the super 
burger resort to expensive meat such as 
sirloin, round or filet . . . a logical move, 
considering the practice with steaks and 
roasts. As it happens, chuck cuts are pref- 
erable for hamburger. They tend to be 
more succulent and richer in beef flavor, 
ince they get more exercise and more 
blood circulation. For that very rcason, 
chuck is also tougher, but that’s the point 
about hamburger: it was devised as a way 
of making tasty, resistant cuts palatable, 
Chopping or grinding is the ultimate 
tenderizer, breaking up the connective 
tissue and any sinew that hasn't been 
trimmed away. 

An essential of good hamburger beef is 
freshness. If you buy prepackaged ground 
meat, you're starting with one strike 
against you. Regardless of what you may 
have heard, Federal regulations do not 
cover fresh ground meat sold in retail 
shops. Local ordinances are generally 
based on the U.S.D.A. regulations. Since 
these are geared to large interstate oper 
tors who service institutions and fast-food 
chains, they're not too stringent, allowing 
a fat content of 30 percent, which is high. 

With rare exceptions, the better ham- 
burger places will run a fat content of 
around 20 percent. A notable exception 
is Manhattan’s Coach House restaurant, 


tds d 


whose hamburger is ground from the 
triangle, a petite sirloin cut devoid of 
cover fat but nicely marbled. When 
ground, it makes a lean, moist mixture. 
The chef grinds it fresh before cach 
meal—once through the machine, medium 
finc. Nothing is added; no salt, pepper, 
eggs or crumbs—and handling is minimal. 
Alter grinding. the meat is lightly and 
quickly coaxed into an oval shape, then 
broiled at a high temperature for rare or 


medium rare. When longer cooking is re- 
quired, heat is reduced alter the surface 
has crusted, to avoid charring. Its wide 
diameter ensures a greater amount of 
pink meat and juices, even when cooked 
medium or beyond. This is practically a 
primer on the art of hamburgery and 
James Beard, along with other members 
of the food establishment, is partial to the 
Coach House burger. (He likes it rare.) 

The Coach House is an extreme exam: 
ple, but gentle handling is a clue to the 
quality of all fine burgers. Tom Margittai, 
co-owner of the Four Seasons restaurant, 
contends that the spatula is responsible 
for more ruined hamburgers than a corps 
of Army cooks. Don't lean on a burger, 
don't spank it. pat it or flip it back and 
forth. Short-order chefs often go through 
such antics to reduce cooking time, but 
it’s bad practice and makes the meat pasty, 
dense and dry. Maigittai, who has done 
experimental work on chopped beef, says 
it isn't a burger if it doesn't go on a bun. 
“The Four Seasons serves a ten-ounce 
Chopped Steak. We use a different cut of 
meat and trent it differently than we 
would [or hamburger." His personal 
burger recipe calls for four to five ounces 
of chuck, ground once—not too fincly— 
about an inch thick. Season lightly but 
eschew salt. "Draws out the blood." Chill 
for about 15 minutes, then grill in 
a heavy pan at high heat—three to four 
minutes on each side. Home broilers are 
not favored by Margittai and other food 
service professionals. They don't get hot 
enough and tend to steam the burger. 
Microwave ovens are taboo. They cook 
the meat from the inside out, producing 
limp, sodden, gray artifacts. 

Chefs whose sole experience is with 
classic cuisine are often perplexed by 
the lack of subtlety of the American "om. 
bourger." André Soltner, Lutèce patron, 
has never eaten a hamburger at a cafe- 
teria, roadside stand or, for that matter, 
ata distinguished grazing ground such as 
21"—nor does he intend to. But he 
knows it wouldn't appeal to his palate. 
His alternative suggestion is Steak Hach 
which he considers classically French. 
Steak Haché starts with a small onion 
sautéed briefly in a 90-percent-peanut- 
oil, 10-percentoliveoil combination. ‘The 
onion and one half cup of soft bread 
crumbs moistened with a bit of milk are 
ground with one pound of beel sirloin, 
twice, at a medium setting. Combine with 
a whole egg, a sprinkle of parsley, salt, 
pepper and a little cold water if it looks 
dry. Shape into three steaks; sauté in 
clarified sweet butter, four to five minutes 
on cach side. Serve on a plate with pan 
juices poured over and a garnish of water 
cress. No bun or relish, both of which 
M. Soliner deplores. Well. it's an en- 
tirely acceptable product but not quite 
what you'd expect іп a hamburger. 
Somehow more hachis, hash, than haché, 


chopped—lacking the snap and pure, 
clean beefy taste of a true burger. 
Soltner’s approach is quite restrained 
compared with ilie contortions other Eu- 
ropean chefs go through “to add interest 
and complexity” to the simple burger. 
Larousse Gastronomique’s recipe for 
Biftek а la Hambourgcoise, subtitled 
Steak à l'Allemande in deference to the 
hamburger's German connection, calls for 
two eggs to three fourths of a pound of 
ground sirloin or tenderloin, shaped into 
four cakes, dredged in flour and fried. 
scent of a 


The result is something remit 
hockey puck. 

Eating hamburger is often a matter of 
time, convenience or habit, but nibbling 
а burger at "21" is an exercise in chic. 
la carte, at lunch, $9.50 
in the evening—a buck more if you crave 
а cheeseburger. This pays for the glamor- 
ous, albeit noisy, surroundings, the nota- 
bles at the next banquette, the book of 
“21” matches that shows people you've 
been there, a few green be 
right fancy cating. The "21" burger has a 
style all its own, due in equal measur 
preparation, presentation and such in- 
gredients as nutmeg and celery. Two 
pounds of sirloin and sirloin trimmings 
are put twice through a medium grinder. 
Add an egg, one fourth cup finely chopped 
cooked celery, one fourth cup soft bread 
crumbs, a dash of Worcestershire sauce, 
salt and freshly ground pepper to taste. 
Combine without overworking, using 
rapid motions. Shape into three or four 
cakes (the "21" burger is ten ounces and 
close to two inches thick), fry quickly in 
hot oil or shortening until well browned. 
Finish in a preheated oven, 350° Fahren- 
heit, about five minutes more for rare— 
they call й. Before it is served, 
the burger is anointed with Sauce M: 
dei 


s aud some 


to 


or blue. 


beurre noir and chopped parsley 
On а good day, there may be 80 burger 
orders at lunch alone, so lots of people. 
including Howard Cosell, Otto. Premin- 
ger and Joan Fontaine, must like it this 
way, Bur if you dig good, honest lare, you 
may find the sauce an intrusion. Perhaps 
the late Aristotle Onassis, a "21" regula 
and hamburger freak, had the right idea 
He had his burger divided into two smaller 
burgers, each served on half a toasted 
English mullin, with "21" Sauce Maison. 
This bold, penetrating, aromatic amalgam 
of various mustards, tomatoes, horseradish 
and spices contributes substantially to the 
owned hamburger it accompanies. 
Originally, condiments or garnishes 
were used as а counterpoint to the lusty 
beef, but, as the meat flavor diminished, 
the assored relishes increased. "Today, 
it's pretty nearly the whole game to 
those who habitually order burgers “with 
everything" A bull doesn't want his 
burger overwhelmed by the garnish. Other 
than that, the possibilities are wide. 


There's no need to list familiar staples, 
but if you come across Garden Salad 
a crisp, sweet-sour pickle of thinly sliced 
cukes, carrots and onions—or pickled 
green tomatoes, try them. Among the 
more esoteric toppings are bottled Sauce 
Robert or Sauce Diable, pizza sauce and 
mozzarella, chili with beans, fried egg, 
sour cream and caviar (thats a czar 
burger), pin. Us 

hulaburger), roquefort cheese (right, 
that's à Blue Max) and, from Califor 
land of the overdressed hamburger— 
avocado burgers, nut burgers and bison 
burgers. 

If European chefs are puzzled by the 
hamburger, there's no doubt about their 
attitudes toward the bun. They abhor it! 
And so do most other self-respecting 
trenchermen. ‘The best thing to do with 
these cottony, plasticized pads is throw 
them out. If you have to use them, toast 
or grill them cut side down for no more 
than a minute. Much better are Kaiser 
rolls, English muffins, a segment of French 
or halian bread, even fresh  sour-rye 
bread. Leon Lianides, of Coach House 
eminence, recommends а bun made fr 
brioche dough. Since we haven't tied 
yet. we won't knock it. 

No doubt you've got the message, 
but it bears repeating—shun prepackaged 
ground beef. You can buy a solid chunk 
of chuck clod or cross rib and have the 
butcher trim it as necessary, then grind it. 
Local regulations often require meat to 
be ground out front, where the customer 
can see it. If you сап, grind your own— 
it's no trouble at all. A home grinder is 
almost a necessity for burger bulls. There 
are three options. One, old-fashioned 
ad cranks: They work, but you supply 
the power. Should be on the heavy side, 
with damp-on feature. Two, unipurpose 
electric grinders: They do only one job— 
grinding. The strength of the motor, 
stallout potential and ease of cleaning 
are things to check. Oster and Hamilton 
Teach are among the better brands. 
Three, multiprocess machines: Much more 
expensive than grinders, but they do 
much morc. Cuisinart and Vita Mi 
chop well and simplify a variety ої 
kitchen chores. There are others. Investi- 
gate thoroughly before you buy. 

With a proper grinder and а heav 
skillet, you can prep as 
good as or better than any a restaurant 
will provide: that is, if you have the great 
est hamburger recipe in the world— 
which we are happy to provide. 


pple ring and bacon (th 


WORLD'S GREATEST HAMBURGER 
(Easy does it!) 


114 Ibs. cross rib or other solid cut 
from the chuck 

1 dove garlic 

14-14 teaspoon fresh Malabar black 
pepper 

21 

Trim away outside fat and cut meat 


TALL 


MENTHOL 


20 FILTER CIGARETTES 


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


159 


PLAYBOY 


160 meat, handling, etc. 5 


“You won't default, will you?” 


into st 
throu, 


ps 1 in. by М in. Put garlic 
h press and rub paste evenly over 
strips. Sprinkle with Malabar pepper, fine 
or butcher grind, according to taste. Mean- 
while, sprinkle heavy, stainlesssteel or 
stcel-clad skillet lightly with salt and heat. 
You'll want a good-sized pan—burgers 
don't like crowding. Grind meat medium 
fine, once. Fat specks should be fairly 
evenly distributed. Shape into 3 cakes, 
bout 1 in. thick, working with 2 forks or 


hands dipped in ice water. Just coax meat 
together, don't compress. Grill in heated 
pan, 3 to 4 minutes on cach side, turning 


once. Free burgers from pan after 14 
minute with thin, flexible spatula. If 
you like your burgers better done, reduce 
t and cook longer or form into thinner 
cakes. Chefs test the degree of doneness 
with a quick squeeze in the middle—the 
more it gives, the rarer the meat. It's a 
trick you can learn with a little exper 

nce and it's worth know ince cook- 
ig times vary so, depending on degree 
and type of heat, grind and composition of 
on а light, crisp 


Kaiser roll or a section of French bread 
just large enough to accommodate your 
burger. You may add additional salt and 
pepper if you like and relishes of your 
choice. Thinly sliced sweet onions and a 
modicum of catsup spiked with Dijon 
mustard are apt complements. When 
serving burgers to a group, you might 
set out an assortment of condiments and 
relishes and let the customers fix their 
own. 

This is your basic burger. You can 
modify it to suit your taste with any of the 
following additions to the meat: finely 
chopped water chestnuts, sweet onions, 
parsley, diced mushrooms, minced chives 
or spring onions, chutn 
parmesan, natural gruyére or 
zarella, tomato purée, bourbon, cognac, 
dry red wine: seasonings: oregano, cumin, 
curry powder, chili powder, shallots, nut- 
meg, Hung , marjor 
dry mustard, Tabasco, Worcesters! 
sauce, barbecue sauce, soy sauce, hoi 
sauce; toppings: cheese (aged emment: 
is hard to beat), smoked ham or Canad 


bacon, side bacon, fried onion rings, fried 
egg (à cheval), espagnole sauce or Borde- 
laise sauce, piccalilli or any of the stand- 
ard relishes. James Beard advocates the 
addition of heavy cream. Outdoor chefs 
cooking over hot charcoal sometimes 
endose ice chips or half an ice cube a 
burger to kcep it moist and rare. There's 
only one inviolable rule—no mayonn: 
garnish, That borders on the barbaric 


VINO BURGER 


Prepare basic meat mixture and shape 
into burgers, as above. Place in refrig- 
erator until required. 

Wine Sauce: Sauté briefly 1 teaspoon 
finely minced shallots in 3 ozs. butter. 
Do not let butter brown. Add %4 cup 
zinfandel or other dry red table wine 
id simmer un well reduced. 
or broil burgers, brush 
quently with wine sauce. Bu 
be served on buns or open on 
lightly toasted slices of French bread. 
Heat remaining sauce and take to the 
table with burgers. 


ng fre- 


асе 


BIG SKILLET BURGER 


1 Ib. beef chuck, ground 

14 teaspoon pepper, medium gri 

4 small mushrooms, diced 

34 lb. potatoes 

34 cup oil (approxim: 

Salt 

2 medium onions, coarsely chopped 

3 English-muffin halves, lightly toasted 
and buttered 


3 egg 


nd mush- 
nd 
се in refrigerator until required. Peel 
oes, slice thin, blot between paper 
towels. Heat rge skillet. Add 

oes and minutes, turning 
i ly. Move to side of pan; add 
onions and fry 2 minutes—push to other 
side of pan. Add burgers and sauté 3 to 
nes on each side, or to taste. Turn 
and onions occasionally. When 
onions are golden, put them on top of 
burgers, so they keep warm but don't 
brown. Place burgers on. English-muffin. 
onions on top. Fry ¢ ny 
ace on burgers, season to (aste. 
ide of potatoes. This can also 
rer, without muflins. 


su 


MYSTERY BURGER 


2 Ibs. lean chuck, ground 

3 ол. butter 

2 tablespoons lemon juice 

2 tablespoons chopped. parsley 
1 shallot 

poon fresh black pepper 


VE 
Salt 
Combine butter, lemon juice and 

parsley. Divide into 4 portions and place 

n refrigerator to chill Put shallot 

through garlic press; add juice and pulp 


Discover What Vitamins 
CanDoFor Your Hair. 


Glenn Braswell, President, Cosvetic Laboratories. 


WHAT! DISCOVERED 

Believe me, | had a 

roblem. Five years ago 
Кодон sarts of hair 
prablems. leven thought! 
was going to lose my hair. 
Everyone in my family 
always had thick, healthy 
hair, sol knew my problem 
could not be hereditary. 

I tried everything that 
made sense, and even afew 
things that didn't. When | 
went to a dermatologist, l 
got no encouragement. One 


say, nothing would work for 


me. 

But I didn’t give up hope. 1 
couldn't. My good Icoks 
(and vanity) spurred me on to 
find a cure. | started hitting 
the books. 

My studies on hair have 
pointed more and more to nu- 
. Major nutritionists report 
that vitamins and minerals in the 
right combination and in the right 
proportion are necessary to keep. 
hair healthy. And one 
internationally acclaimed beauty 
andhealth expert says the best hair 
conditioner in the world is proper 
nutrition. (Innon-hereditary cases, 
in which hair lossis directly 
attributed to vitamin deficiencies, 
hair has been reported to literally 
thrive after the deficiencies were 
corrected.) 


WHAT THE EXPERTS 
DISCOVERED 

Then started reading all the 
data on nutrition! could get my 
hands on. | am now finding the 
medical field beginning to support 
these nutritionists. 

Studies have determined that the 
normal adult could be replacing 
each hair on the head as often as 
once every three to four years. You 
need to give your hair its own 
specific dietary attention, just as 
yougive your body in general. 

One doctor at a major university 
discovered that re-growth of scalp 
cells occur 7 times as fast as other 
body cells. Therefore, general 
nutrition (even though it may be 
good enough for proper 
nourishment of the skin), may 
not be sufficient for scalp and 
hoir. 

In the Human Hair 


Symposium conducted in 1973, 

scientists reported that hair 

simply won't grow without 
icient zinc sulfate. 

Incase after case my hopes 
were reinfarced by professional 
opinions. (And alloca how 
harditis taget any two scientists 
or doctorsto agree on 
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The formula | devised for my 
own hair called for 7 vitamins 
and 5 minerals. The only 
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spending about $30 a month for 

ıe separate compounds. 


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Today, as you can see from 
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greatly improved. But don't. 


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enclose my: О check C money order Mail to: 
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WHAT OUR 
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DISCOVERED. 

"| wasn't losing my hair, 1 
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"My hair hasimproved 
greatly and I am so encour- 
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“E.H., New Orleans. 


161 


PLAYBOY 


162 


along with pepper to meat. Combine 
lightly. Form into 8 flattish patties. Place 
Jemon-butter mixture on 4 of the patties; 
distribure as evenly as possible to 14 in. of 
edge. Top with remaining 4 patties. 
Moisten fingers and pinch patties to- 
gether along rim to seal. Cook in hot, 
lightly greased pan about 3 minutes on 
cach side, turning once. Handle genily, 
so as not то tear, Season to taste. Serve 
at once. 


Variations: 


Substitute poached beef marrow for 
butter in mixture. 
Substitute a minced-ham-and-g 
cheese mixture for lemon-butter m 
Substitute а slice of tomato. between 
2 slices of American cheese, trimmed to 


size, for the lemon-butter mixture. 


ted- 


ure. 


ORIENT EXPRESS 


1 Ib. lean chuck, ground 
1 small clove garlic 

1 tablespoon soy sauce 

1 teaspoon hoisin sauce 


1 green onion, minced 
3 water chestnuts, finely chopped 
Put garlic clove through press. Mix 


all ingredients lightly and shape into 4 
plump burgers. Grill in hot, lightly 


greased skillet about 4 minutes on cach 
side. Serve on quickly grilled or toasted 
buns. This may be presented with the 
usual relish or a sauce made with 1 table 
spoon soy sauce, 1 tablespoon rice vine- 
gar, 1 teaspoon honey—or to 
dash of Tabasco, and roasted sesame 
seeds or minced green onion, if you like. 
Despite its Germ: me, hamburger 
is as American as applejack. The ground 
meat patty on a bun made its debut at 
104 Louisi a Pi 
Louis and became an instant hit 
I's good cating a 
lunch, dinner or 
with the bur 


[d 


ychase Exposition 


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BEST-KEPT SECRET 


(continued from page 102) 
on Tobago, or Nisbet Plantation on 
Nevis, or Rawlins o . Kitts—and how 
else would we have met an investment 
analyst in his handsome carly 50s who 
was writing an epic poem i k verse 
about a beige Porsche? Who languished 
by ihe pool readi Paradise Lost lor the 
fun of it 

WELCOME TO BARB: 
GEORGE WAS CAUGHT A DOSE NERE 
Barbados was named by Spanish sail- 
ors who thought they saw beards on the 
4 trees that covered the island. The 
sli sailors are a rarity now. 
You will notice in your Exxon. X-Rated 
Bicentennial Guidebook that it is the 
place where Washington picked up the 
smallpox scars that flaucring portrait 
ainters tried to hide for the rex of 
his life. 
Barbados is relatively flat, with low roll- 
hills and valleys, and the soil is rich, so 
most of it has been planted 


DOS, OF, 


sections of cane, More recently, 
5 have been exte planted 
ancy beachside hotels and villas. A 


drive along the so-called Platinum Coi 
10 mere gold, this stretch of perfect beach 
ud sumptuous real estate) rapidly con- 
vinces you that there are Big Bux in Bar- 
bados. Here in high season you can drop 
day at places where gentlemen 
equested to wear а tux to breakfast; 
and if that's not good cnough, there аге 
seriously elegant villas for rent by absentee 
owners. whose megabucks increase by 
getting up to $3000 a week for them in 
ason. But that does include all the 
servants. 

15 THERE A VILLA IN YOUR FUTURE? 

Barbados happens to have the most 
and the classiest, but all of the islands 
offer houses or villas for rent. The best 
are clamored over in the dead of northern 
winter; they often booked. seasons iu 
advance, But in the summer, they usually 
sit untenanted, which is why they сап be 
mes less than half their 
high-season There is à modest palace 
in the Moorish modern style on Barbados, 

i four bedrooms, patio facing 
the beach, cook, maid, sculptures in thc 
goes for $1800 a 
5800 in the sum- 


t 


ad for somet 


garden, the works—t 
week in season but 
mer. And, unlike sta 
can not only 
and whenever you like, you ca 
ave as shamefully as you do at home 
With one or two couples of similar 
ї cin be more stimulating and 
expensive than a hotel. Whether it's 
andlelight and com oil or shouting all 
night about Proust is, of course, strictly 
up to you. 
SEX AND VIOLENCE TOUR 

For sex, it's Club Méditerranéc, hands 
down, For violence, из Grenada and 
Dominica, hands up. To dispose of the 
rough stuff first: Is kind of a shame to 


ion, 


steer you 
ids 
rich collecti 


y from two of the loveliest 


of spice trees and East 
le flowers, Domin green swatch 
of wild and unruly vegetation. But Gre- 
nada has йз own version of the Th 
complete with stapo. 
ster Eric Gairy continues 
1 dispose of people he 
ly undesirable. Tour- 
act, safe there—as they un- 


ists are, in 
doubtedly аге in Albania—but. there's 


g restful about a police state in 
the sun. Dominica isn't even that restful: 
A number of tourists have been robbed 
nd а few have been killed there th 
past couple of years, the result of polit 
agitation. The tourist bureau will insist 
it’s safe now to go backpacking through 
the underbrush; the government has been 
rounding up the dissidents and doing 
God knows what with them. But we'd 
suggest that a Green Beret would be 
more useful to you than a green thumb— 
at Teast for the next уе: 

As for Club Méditer 
what you've heard about it is 
true, the good along with the bad. There 
are three club villages in the Caribbean: 
Guadeloupe and one on Ma 
nique, And, yes, two of them are sex 
factories, (For those of you taking notes, 
theyre La Caravelle, on Guadeloupe, 
‚ on Martiniqu 
Guadeloupe, is f 


or so. 
се, most of 
probably 


1wo on 


oriented.) 

Created in France as а way of get 
people inexpensively to exotic climes, 
Club M a policy of no frills, no 
tips (plastic be 
dresing up, lots of good food and un- 


¢ between the young, 
wactive stall 1 the club members has 
led to some of the most casual sex this 
side of a swingers’ co 

Bur in the ither the 
French have blown it or it hasn't trans- 
lated well. All three v appear to 
have succumbed to own press 


their 
hype—and to greed, with gross examples 


ol overbooking (650 people squeezed into 
ассо: meant for 400, with the 
overllow put up at adjoining hotels), 
corner cutting on food and jackedup 
prices. Stall smiles have a touch of pl 


10 


Méd villages 
the atmosphere 


is still 
the only game in the West Indies, with 
topless and nude beaches on both Guade- 
loupe and Martinique and the sex 
abundant. 7 һ, of course, there's 
е of roommates 


Club. Méd story number onez A pretty 
secretary from New York boldly accepted 
the accidental assignment of a male 


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163 


roommate and looked forward to bed- 
time. He turned out to be gay and she 
spent two nights listening to him and 
his lovers going at it. She couldn't stand 
it more and demanded a female room- 
m; nd the club accommodated her. 


e, 


That night, her female roommate tried 
to crawl imo bed with her. She left the 
next day. 

Club Méd story number two: A mem- 
ber asked his new roommate about his 
of sacking out—alone—at seven 


PLAYBOY 


ach evening. Wasn't he missing out 
ll that wonderful French food for 
dinner? He didn't like French food. the 
» said, being from Ohio. Then 
bout socializing? "Don't like the 
French, period." Well, some of the staff- 
ers were British. "Can't stand the Brit- 
ish." Then how about all those horny 
American girls? "Yeah, but they're East- 
erners. Hate Easterners.” Hmmmmm. At 
least he must have made up for it duri 
the day—snorkeling, volleyball, that sort 
of thing? “Hate exercise.” Well, didn't he 
get bored just swimming? “Never go near 
the water. Hate it.” (All quotes verbatim.) 

Obviously, not all Club Méd members 
go there for the sa 
shi "L say more п 8 
about it, because it was one of the few 
fresh travel ideas around before it grew 
fat on its popularity. So our advice is that 
if it's sex and camaraderie you're alter, 
wy the club—by default—but don't set 
your expectations too high. A better bet 
îs to take your own and try a hotel. 


IGH SCHOOL FRENCH AND THE CARIBBEAN 
The two islands on which your high 
school French will come in handiest are 
Guadeloupe and Martinique. While most 
of the British or Dutch islands are really 
more West Indian than European, 
these two are indelibly Parisian. They're 
both départements of France, and for 
those of you familiar with Paris taxi 
drivers, it means you can expect traces 
of Gallic arrogance only somewhat sof- 
tened by the tropics; outside the hotels 
nd main cities, folks do not speak Eng- 
lish as they do everywhere else in the 
aribbean, and best of luck to you if 
put the stress on the wrong syllable. 

‘Their main attraction, in our opinion, 
is the food. It's French, it's plentiful and 
it’s good. Even a restaurant listed as soo 
in the wavel guides will offer up a meal 
Us better than most you can get on 
ids. But be warned: Prices are 
s in any large French city; i.e., 
expensive. A rating of the most expensive 
nds in the Caribbean would place 
Martinique and Guadeloupe very near 
the top. 

Physically, Guadeloupe is а drabber 
and poorer island, but therefore less 
crowded and a touch less spoiled. It's 
one through a buikling boom in the 
t couple of years that's ridiculously 
ahead of its time, so many of the hotels 
are unfilled even in high season. During 


yo 


164 


the summer, the island ought to be vir- 
tually empty, which could be a plus. 
Beaches are excellent, the sightseeing 
citing, the people generally friendly. 
jue is lusher and more built 
up, with Fortde-France a bustling, so- 
phisticated city. It’s the birthplace of 
Napoleon's wife, Josephine, and they 
don't let you forget it—there are tours, 
museums and countless other reminders 
of the lady Bonaparte left behind. Hotels 
run the gamut from small pensions to 
giant, first-rate emporiums and night life 
is lively. Folks on Martinique are not to 
be patronized; they have a long, proud 
nd don't feel that tourists are 
their only bread and butter. Truth is, if 
you're an American traveler of the 
Instamaticand-Bermudashors variety, 
you're likely to feel less welcome on Mar- 
tinique than anywhere else. On the other 
hand, if your nch isn't terrible and 
you throw away certain assumptions, 
youre likely to end up at a calé dis- 
cussing Camus with someone educated 
at the Sorbonne. 


OFF THE BEATEN TOUR TOUR 

Jets roar into Antigua, Barbados and 
St Martin every day, direct from New 
York, London and Toronto. That's one 
reason they are so ed for tourists— 


getting there is relatively casy. Getting 
to other islands, such as St. Lucia or 
Montserrat, mea with Brit- 


ish West Indian Airways (BWIA) or 
Leeward Island Air Transport (LIAT), 
which can be an uneven experience at 
best. Although they have fine safety 
records, their schedules can. provoke you 
to chuckles, if youre the kind that 
chuckles at four-hour layovers in hot, tiny 
airports. The soundest advice we can 
give is that even if you know your Aight 
is confirmed on BWIA or LIAT, call 
ahead and check that they haven't 
changed the hour and the day. Or the 
year. 

But having said that, and even admit- 
ting that all the Caribbean islands are 
nicer in the summer, there's still a hang: 
over from a spoiled winter that can make 
the people on the jet-linked islands some- 
what snottier than their more insular 
neighbors. So even if it means lopping a 
full day off each end of your vacation, 
why not try our Off the Beaten Tour 
‘Tour—featuring: 


** Montserrat **St. Kitts /Nevis **St. 
Lucia & St. Barth's * 5t. Vincent and 
the Grenadines & More Special Guest 
Stars* 


Montserrat: The landing, like the one 
in Dominica—where you come zooming 
down the mountains 50 feet above thick 
jungle and dear cascading streams, onto 
an airstrip scraped from the middle of 
nowhere—wakes you right up. You 
trusty LIAT pilot aims first a£ and then 


along the shoulder of mountains that 


plunge into the sea—a few hundred feet 
above the water, at least a few from the 
mountainside—and then drops over rocks 
onto a landing strip that ends in the 
ocean if you don't watch out. Nice, huh? 

Montserrat is otherwise terrific. It is all 
of 39 square miles and rather happily 
remains a British colony, having been 
settled early on by renegade Irishme 
who were busted out of England by 
Cromwell. People with ears for such 
things swear they can still hear the trace 
of a brogue in the Montserrat accent. So 
not just Гог the scenery has it been nick- 
named the Emerald Isle. 

It presently stands ready to таке on a 
travel boom with three entire hotels. Two 
of them are on the other side of the 
ns from the airport, nea 
quiet capital of Plymouth (popu 
1200 ог so). The drive over is a tr 


roads through high meadows 
forest, with old stone houses 
looming suddenly out of the gray. and 
muted golden ravines d 


ht, Montserrat i; 
truly beautiful—and very down home. 
The Emerald Isle hotel, for example, is 
a plain litle heap of concrete block 
painted aquamarine, on a hill well above 
the black volcanic beach. 

Every Friday night, the 
one of the larger events on Mont- 
serrat—the weekly crab races. They are 
emceed by а platformed calypso singe 
betting is encouraged and the locals turn 
out in bunches. green-felt pad 
with concentric chalk circles drawn on 
it is put down on the floor. In the 
center, restrained. under a clear Pyrex 
lid, are the contestants: six hermit crabs 
with numbers pasted on their backs. 
After much slick touting by the emcee, 
the betting closes, odds are given, the 
lid is yanked up and they are off—some 
of them, anyway. For variety, an obsta- 
cle race follows and later a slow race— 
ich, when we saw it, was slower than 
xpected until someone realized that the 
vorite had died. The hit of thar eve- 
ning was а splendidly drunk old gent 
who looked like Chuck Berry and who 
seemed to believe the green felt meant 
а аар game—and so kept throwing red 
Eastern Caribbean dollars onto 
ing with a grin for somcone to fade him, 
fade the crabs, fade anything. - . 

St. Kitts: Fodor’s this year calls St. Kitts 
tly right: “The island has litle to 
gain it great acclaim, but a lot to recom- 
mend it for a quiet West Indian holi- 
day." Its 63 square miles are like an 
average of the other islands. 

From the water facing Basseterre, the 
st of St. Kitts looks like an idealized 
gingerbread capital town strung 
in sun-bleached pastels along the shore, 
green land behind converging upward 


tranquil and 


hotel hosts 


°з 


“Not now, Martha—I'm probing the depths of a very disturbed psyche!” 


The Yashica 
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The FX-1 is Yashica’s new 35mm 
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All you do is preselect the lens aperture 
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As light changes, the FX-1 electronic 
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an infinite range of speeds, from 

8 seconds to 1/1000 of a second. So each 
shot you take is perfectly exposed. 

And the FX-1 has top-quality Yashica 
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internal linkage. Full information view- 
finder. Full aperture light metering, 

And much, much more. 


Imagine all you could de with the new 
FX-1. Then see it for yourself, at your 
nearest Yashica dealer. 


to the dark focus of the soufriére, hung 
with brooding clouds and draped in neck 
laces of came—the definitive Norman 
Rockwell island. 

Up close, it’s not quite that. Basseterre 
is plainer than some of its neighbors, 
devoted е 


tirely to the needs of the 
islanders; it doesn't sparkle with razzle- 
где shops and restaurants. Beaches are 
rly few and far between 

The only thing really to do on St. 
Kius is spend part of a day wandering 
around Brimstone Hill—but it's one of 
the genuine wonders of the Caribbean. 
A majestic 18th Century British fort 
sprawled over the top of a bluff 700 feet 
above the sca, it took more than a 
century to complete and was constructed 
with an eye for graceful detail that’s su 
prising when you consider the real point 
of it all It was called. Brimstone Hill 
because it lies downwind from the sul- 
phurous rumblings of Mount Misery, the 
best-named volcano we know. Parts 
of the fort are still prey much intact 
and one large section has been restored. 
The rest is crumbling into romantic 
Gothic ruins—you half expect to see Lord 
Byron appear from behind a pillar, limp- 
ing along in a melancholy mood. 

After that, the main attraction on St. 
Kius is loafing, best done at the Rawlins 
Plantation or the Fairview Inn. Neither 
is anywhere near a beach, They're both 
restored plantation houses, but Rawlins is 
like a reincarnation of colonial times, still 
surrounded by the ancestral plantation, 
while the rview Inn is more out of 
Sadie Thompson and more comfortable 
if you are, too. 

Nevis: There is cven less going on on 
Nevis, an hour's ferry ride south of St. 
Kitts. It was named by Columbus be- 
cause the clouds hovering over it re- 
minded him of snow, so long had he 
been out in the sun, and it's smaller yet 
than Montserrat, In this Bicentennial 
year, it is remembered by Exxon and 
others as the birthplace of Alexander 
Hamilton, a smart little bastard if ever 
there was опе. Hamilton House still 
stands, sagging some and painted blue, 
home every Thursday of the weekly 
meeting of the Nevis Lions Club. Such 
are thrills and chills on Nevis. 

It's one of the best places to do ab- 
solutely nothing we've ever scen. The 
Nisbet Plantation, especially, encourages 
cardinal indolence. It is another restored 
plantation house but with a true 18th 
Century-style view of the beach 300 
yards away, cut in a generous landscaped 
swath through lofty rows of coco palms. 
lt is so laid back that the bar is do-it- 
yourself, strialy honor system. The 
people who run Nisbet, Geoffrey Boone 
and his colleague Harriet, live there full 
time with Sammy, their beautiful cat 
and that makes it a warmer, more casual 
place than most. They should at the very 
least be commended for throwing a 


dinner party for 24 eve 
going berserk. 

St. Lucia: It's hı 
but St. Lucia has to rate somewhere 
among our top three, Not necessarily be- 
cause it has more of anything than the 
other islands but because there's so damn. 
little to fault—except, perhaps. its quiet 
ht life. St. Lucia is still British, as 
evidenced by the cricke 
from the road 
ably the friendliest of any we got to 
know. And. God, how St. Lucians scem 
to love their island! A cabdriver with 
the snappy name of Lord Jackson drove 
us around the island on roller-coaster 
roads and serenaded us with calypso 
songs praising St. Lucia's natural beauty. 
We felt it was for the delight of singing, 
not for the tip, and felt good about it. 


ht and not 


d to pick favorites, 


n 


mes you see 
and the natives are prob. 


Its a hilly, luxurious island with a 
pair of jutting pitons at one end that 
are usually irresistible to. photographers 
who want to start a pictorial om the 
Caribbean with a smashing panorama 
(our photographer was no exception). On 
the road south, you may stop at the 
world’s only drive-in volcano and watch 
black water boil and steam, gorge your- 
self at The Still, a rum distillery turned 
restaurant, then run down to Chastenet 
beach to snorkel and snoop around the 
brilliant reefs. The capital village of 
Castries is usually not included on post- 
cards, since it’s a rather nondescript 
collection of buildings that went up after 
a fire in 1948. But there are wonderful 
little restaurants, including Rain (with 
propeller fans on the ceiling and posters 
of Joan Crawford on the walls) and the 
Coalpot (built on stilts over the water). 
You can stay cheap or expensive, but the 
medium-range hotels (Vigie Beach, the 
Malabar Beach, for example) are prob- 
ably your best bet. We'll be going back. 


FEAR OF FLYING? 
САМ YOU TOP THIS? 

St. Barth's: It's so good it's the place 
where people who live on nearby islands 
go for vacations. But it is also our flaps- 
down nomince for the hairiest landing 
in the € As in the approach to 
Montserrat, your plane at first seems in- 
sanely to be heading directly toward solid 
rock; but here it keeps on going, dead at 
a hill stretched between two higher rock 
ses like the trace of a web between 
human fir 


ibbe 


gers. Instead of hitting it, if 

, you barely skim over 
the aest—to the right of a large white 
cross, just for a litde cheap Fellini sym 
bolism—so close to the road that cars 
parked there to gawk scatter when they 
sce you coming, and then hit the hooks as 
hard as you can, because the landing strip 
starts right on the other side, yes, and goes 
downhill for a time before leveling oft 
and ending too soon in the ocean. A pilot 
we talked with who's been doing it for 


you are fortun 


years said he's never landed there without 
sceing at least one mistake lying lunched 
and twisted next to the runway. 

Why make this kamikaze missio 
Because Si. Barth's is ridiculously pic 
turesque. Why else would the Rockefel- 
lers have a house there? In its eight 
square miles are great craggy hills, cliffs 
and upthrust igneous slabs softened in 
places by trees апа tough desert эсги 
wheat-colored fields divided by meander- 
ing stone fences decline from hills to 
rocky windward beaches. On the leeward 
side, miniature cookie-cutter lagoons in 
ned-up shades of green and blue are 
d by flawless white arcs of sand; 
and Gustavia, the tiny pink capital, laid 
out in а U shape around a deep sale 
harbor, looks so much like postcard. it 
ought to be mailed somewhere 

St. Barth's was originally Sweden's lone 
attempt at a New World colony, а fact 
you still can sce in the square features 
and blond hair of many people living 
there—the only mostly white population 
in the islands. But St. Barth's has be- 
longed to France for so long that the local 
yone but an- 


patois, fluid gibberish to a 
other local, 17th 
Century French in tropical mutation. But 
St. Barth's is so small, and so accustomed 
to day-trippers from St. Martin, ten 
minutes away, that you can get along 
beuer there in English than on any of 
the other French islands. 

The best way to get around is to 
rent a саће Volkswagen Things are 
cheapest—at the airport. Driving is on 
the right, unlike on the British islands, 
but there isn't much right. The roads 
are an existential lane-plus. Some are 
so steep that the first time up them, roar- 
ing nowhere in first you're certain 
that you're going to flip over backward, 
hood over ass. But you don't. And it's 
easy once you 

The drive up to the Santa Fe Bar 
and Restaurant is like that. You're ready 
for a drink when you get there. If you've 
been on vacation long enough to be 
suffering hamburger withdrawal, the 
specialty of the house is a burger-and- 
fries combination that's like a shot of 
grease from home. And from the covered 
porch on a clear day you can see not for- 
ever but Montserrat, St. Kitts, Nevis, 
St. Eustatius, Saba and St. Martin. 


is said to be classic 


wet used to it 


ST. VINCENT AND FRIENDS 

St. Vincent is one of the poorest of 
the islands and hasn't really tooled up 
for tourism, though there's no reason you 
can't enjoy its darksand beaches if you 
want to rough it a bit. It serves mostly 
as а jumping.olf point for the string of 
islets that wend their way south known 
as the Grenadines. They're all small and 
beautiful but are usually reserved for the 
yachting crowd, since 
and irr But St. 
cess to two other delights as well: Young 


air service is private 
Vincent offers ac- 


gular. 


Island, a tiny, self-contained Disneyland 
of a hotel, moored like a buoy several hun 
dred feet off the coast of St. Vincent. And, 
if you're willing to clamber aboard the 
mail boat for an hour-and-a-half vide, 
there's Bequia, an impossibly perfect 
South Sea island we shouldn't even be 
telling you about. In fact, we won't. 


ST. MARTIN COMBINATION PLATE 
For the past few years, so many New 
Yorkers have been blasting into St. 
Martin that the island is busily altering 
itself in their image. That makes i 
good place to begin or end a wip. If 
you're just arriving, pale and twitching, 
icm 
less than if you were dropping straight 
into a timeless dream like Montserrat or 
. And if you're heading back, it 
will remind you that New York still exists, 
in case you have forgotten. 

That's another way of saying that St. 
Martin is a place to boogie, not rest. It 
closes down when you do. You can wear 
yourself out in all the standard ways 
during the day, and after dinner there 
are first discos and then casinos to occupy 
your attention. 

Compared with the casinos on Curacao 
or even in Las Vegas, the ones on < 
Martin look less like palaces than road- 
they get the job done. 
Around closing, at three or so, when 
they are down to the serious, the drunk 
and the crazy, they are amazing, indeed— 
and just like casinos anywhere else. Sun- 
tanned honeys kissing the dice of leisure- 
suited high rollers, painted old ladies and 
their debutante daughters covering every 
combination at the roulette table, silent 
blackjack junkies talking to their dealers 
with flicks of their fingers. . . - 

What makes St. Martin our choice 
combination plate is, of course, its 
There are Bali Ha'i beaches, 
quiet and isolated, as well as Miami 
Beach beaches, bustling and glistening 
with oiled bodies. There are tiny, ex- 
quiste inus such as the Pasanggral 
medium-sized, frill-hilled hotels such 
The Caravanserai, a number of Hilton- 
type behemoths such as the Concord and 
architecturally unique hotels such as La 
Samanna and Oyster Pond Yacht Club. 
But perhaps the main attraction is the 
coexistence of the Manhattan-Dutch por- 
tion of the island with the tropical-French 
portion. St. Martin is the world’s smallest 
patch of land shared by two counties: you 
can мау in Holland and cat out in 
France. Customs consists of a couple of 
cows grazing by a stone marker as you 
drive past. 

The island may not have the very best 
of anything їп the West Indies, but it 
scems to have a little of most everything 
you'd want. If it's your first trip to the 
Caribbean, there 


s the culture shock is considerably 


houses—but 


variety. 


worse places to start. 


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PLAYBOY 


ATUS (continued from page 121) 


there are players, there are winners and 
losers. The games go on all the time, 
everywhere. You play with your wile 
(if she lets you), you play with your boss, 
with your neighbor, with the guy who 
reroutes your intestine for taking his 
parking place, How well you play the 
game will determine the tue degree of 
ness. 


your wi 


Hello, 1 Have Asthma! 

The more a person knows about you, 
the more vulnerable you are to him. The 
bright weakling will tell all. in detail. 
He chooses that person who is in the best 
ion to crush him and then he spills 

ns. 

Moe is а 48-ye 
with banks, Alask: 


swimming-pool 
company. He let out all of his secrets to 


his employer during a three-day speech. 
“I told Nick about my drinking prob- 
ap 


Jem, my mallard fetish, the sodomy 


1 took during the war 

In this game, as in life, when the go- 
ing gets tough, the weak head for the 
nearest closet. You're if you 
follow the rules and always kiss and tell 
or, if you're the adventurous type, probe 
rudely with the thumb and tell. 


Waiter, There Ave Only Three Flies in 
My Soup! 

In this game, you must be willing to 
take whatever you are given. You offer 
no resistance, mo back talk, no com- 
t, you smile as that 
deciding whether 
to hit you with a brick or with a piece 
of pipe. 

The winners in game not only 
take what is given to them but, through 
projection of their weakness, solicit ter- 
rible treatment. As an example, you 
walk into a butcher's shop and ask for 
а pound of chicken legs. И the butcher 
gives you hall a pound of last weeks 
necks, you're doing all right. However, if 
he wrestles a pig knuckle from the dog 
and wraps it up for you, you're a. pro. 


a winn 


THE WEAK SPOT 


As important as the work a man does 
is where he does his work. Is he invisible? 
Out of touch with other workers? Have 
the employees set up à memorial fund? 

While the ordinary man will seek an 
outer office, а cor office at best, the 
weakling looks for what owtof-the-way 
place—the duplicating room, the freight 
clevator, the ladies’ room. 

Once he bas found hi 
work to isolate himself w 
Sitting on the floor be 
ng himself 
n a corner it 


place, he must 
hin that space. 
id the desk is 
brown paper 
better. Having 


himself sewn into the upholstery of а 
couch is ideal. 


WEAKNESS AT THE OFFICE PARTY 


Weakness becomes very evident at the 
осе party. In this situation, relation- 
ships are more casual, inhibitions arc left 
behind and truer pictures of the office 
personalities surface. 

By observing the positions people take 
in the room, you can easily assess their 
we A somewhat weak person will 
stand in а corner, a weaker person will 
hide beneath the coats and the weakest 
will enter through the kitchen and help 
prepare the hors d'oeuvres. 


COME RIGHT IN AND SIT ON MY FACE! 


‘The weak man has the ability to make 
himself feel uncomfortable and i 

tors feel at home. He relinqui 
es himself the interloper. 

quality is particularly helpful dur- 
ng business meetings and. negotiating ses- 
sions. Let us say you are involved in a 
mportant talks concerning a 
ict. The union wants а рау 
your company wants to give 
istead, hats with their names on 
he ler walks 
He is in your territory 
decided disadvantage. You spring into 
action, offering the man your chair, desk, 
telephone and American Express card. 
You throw yourself onto the floor and 
roll under his foot, placing it firmly 
against your neck, Begin your discussion 
You are virtually guaranteed a defeat. 


union cont 
increa 
them, 


on le; 


т 


LOOK ОЕ WEAKNESS. 


There are those who have а natural 
propensity for wielding weakness. Some 
have even been born with the look of 
weakness. 
It isn’t necessary to be three feet tall 
and built like a haberdasher, but thei 
are certain repulsive little signs that in- 
dicate weakness—a pair of crossed eyes, 
wet, cold hands, a presence that suggests 
you would have trouble competing for 
attention against a comatose squirrel. 
It is possible to develop some of these 
e on the idiosyn- 
ies that will make you the center of 
hatred in any group, but nothing can 
replace that combination of embarrass- 
lack of self-control and the knack 
for repelling people that natural weak- 
lings have. 
It helps to 


€ onc feature of the 
body that is totally without definition— 
ck of chin, an elusive penis, extreme: 
ly low checks (below the neck) tiny 
pisgish eyes. It is also helpful to have 
skin that resembles oatmeal їп tone and 
texture. 


You may not think that there is any- 
thing you can do to your face short of 
running it through a garlic press, but 
that’s not true. You can develop facial 
expressions. Try looking in the mirror 

nd saying. in a dull pained voice, "She's 
my gal, but if you insist, you can take 
her out in the alley. By the way, she 
likes it if you take off your socks.” If your 
eyes are not blinking, beads of perspira- 
tion are not breaking out all over your 
body and your tonguc is not hanging 
out, you probably don't really believe 
that you are weak. By praaidng, you 
will, in time, be able to perfect a shifty, 
timid, nervous gaze that will insp 
people to yank your tie and mess 
your hair. 


THE WEAKLINGS! 


Elmer Winkic is the unsuccessful head 
dying division of a near bankrupt 
He is the son of a billion- 
He ed his w 
to the bottom in six sho: 
years. While still in his 60s, he took over 
the reins of his present company and 
within six months had it operating 
deeply in the red. 

1 met Elmer at the Gary Women's 
Club, of which he is а member. When 
I waved to him, he dashed into a closet 
a shrieking. When I was finally 

ble to persuade him to come out, he 
shook like jelly on а vibrator. I asked 
him wi ıt 10 him. He 
fainted. A weak man, indeed! 

k Spikes is a shell-shocked M 
who came into his weakness after a hand 
de went off in his hip pocke 
home was typical of the wea 

proof glass, guard dogs (guard-do; 
dogs in the event the guard dogs 


every angle and a large sandbox. Every 
few moments, he invited me to kick sand. 
in his face, which I did, with a certain 
glee. "I don't want to sound immodest, 
but when I'm around, I bring out the 
power in peopl "ve had 
preschoolers run me around like a slave. 
Гус been ked by bread mold. Н 
seems to run in my family. My father 
vas mugged by Gandhi 

I felt the awesome magnetism that 
Nick possessed. When we concluded our 
conversation, I could not resist slapping 
him senseless. 


SEX AND WEAKNESS 


I kinda like going last 

ngs. There isn't so much 

—LOW-RANKING MOTORCYCLE- 
GANG MEMBER 


The sexuality of the weak is best di 
scribed in the erotic classic The Naked 
Snack, when the hero, after bringing hi 
lover to а dramatic climax, forgoes his 
pleasure to sweep out his lover's base- 
ment and wax her car. His pl 


comes from submission. The weak use 
sex to deflate their egos. They prefer to 
roll over and give in. 
Sure It’s Small, but It's Soft 

A weak man prides himself on his 
body. He uses it not as a weapon but as 
a shabby defense. His rolls of pink flab, 
his smooth white chest, his hopelessly 
tiny penis and blotchy scrotum symbolize 
uncooked chicken; ergo, weakness. 
ht, grcen-eyed wimp, 
ated by a 3 9" fe- 


boasts of bei 
male midget. “ 
all but lost in the 
moist cavity. She was totally unmoved 
when that speck of lukewarm liquid of 
my love almost made it into her!" 


Your Place or My Mom's? 

Herm haunts the singles bars of New 
York like ап ant at a flamenco-dancers’ 
convention. He plays the ma 
Only, Herm plays to lose. “I c 
the way to the bar, order a s 
warm milk and survey the women, When 
I spot oue who could turn me inside 
out with a flick of her wrist, I make my 
move. I tell her I am the New York City 

ic Baking Champ. I offcr to go 
halfsies on а drink for her. When she's 
about to set fire to me with her lighter, 
I hit her with my big line, "Hey. tots, 
how's about Т come over and do your 
ln 


ng game. 


Man on Top, Woman in the Elevator 
Gloria Steinem did for the weak what 
Bessemer did for steel: She got them hot 
and rolled them, Nothing could be bet- 
ter for the weakling than women’s 
ing an aggressive sexual stance. 
weak say, “Let them 
them hurt us. 
afterward.” 
Leo, a Charles Atlas "before" model, 
describes an encounter with a new wom- 
n. "I'm just hanging around a bar, let- 
ting guys throw peanuts at me, when this 
gal walks up and tells me she's а com- 
puter programmer and asks if I'd like to 
go over to her place and push her but- 
tons. I thought, What the heck. 1 knew it 
was a pickup. and although J don't want 
to get a reputation as one of those easy 
guys, I went. I was right. There were no 
buttons. Just a huge naked broad and а 
gallon of currant jelly. She tied me up 
and did all sorts of evil things to herself 
while I (against my will) sang nursery 
songs. When it was all over, she turned 
on a ball game and I went toi the bath- 
room and cried. It was gre: 


The 
tke the lead. Let 
Let them smoke cigars 


AM I WEAK? 


This is an oftasked question and a fit- 
ting final inquiry. But as there are man 
many answers, it is best to refer to an 
ancient Hindu tale. 

A young boy asked his father how he 
might know if he was weak. The father, 


in all his wisdom, said, “How should I 
know? I make my living selling dung 
bricks!” So it was that the young boy set 
upon a journey to ask the god Rama 
how he might know if he was weak. 

The young boy traveled many, many 
miles, climbed many, many mountains 
and swam many, many seas. Many, many 
years passed and the young boy was no 
longer young. He was old and withered 
and had arth ate condi- 
tion. But he was 
“L wish to see the great Rama,” 
man said. 

A beautiful woman led the old man 
to the palace of R: The old man 
marveled at the opulence. Then a blind 
ing light struck him in the eyes. When 
it subsided, Rama was standing before 
n. "Why have you come?” Rama asked 
in his great voice. 
ve come to learn if 1 am weal 
replied in a most humble 


the old 


The 


reat Rama clapped his hands 
appeared 


in the great hall. 
"Can you lift these tigers and this 

mountain?” Rama asked the old man 

(o. 1 can hardly lift a small sack of 

" the old man confessed. 

“OK, so you're weak," Rama said. 


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169 


PLAYBOY 


170 


author—of the frustrated. variety—and 
before he entered Irving's employ, he 
was а drama critic." 

“He must have known Jonathan Mc- 
ту, then?” 

"Everyone knew McCarthy. 


"And Mrs. Stoker is a friend of 
Iber 
Their eyes widened. “And where did 


you lcarn that? 
I did my best not to appear smug. “I 
е my methods.” I stood up. “Thank 
gentemen. Im afr. at my 
ness takes me elsewhere now 
Leaving them, I hastencd to Baker 
cager to impart the results of my 
interview to Holmes, but he was not 
there, I spent a dreary afternoon pacing 
about the place and trying to reconcile 
the pieces of our puzzle 


о а coherent 
whole. At times, 1 thought I had mas- 
tered the thing, only to recollect some 
item of importance I had omitted. 

At last, 1 sat down and I must have 
len asleep, for the next thing I recall 
was being roused from an armchai 
revery by the familiar knock of ou 


dy. 
“Theres a gentleman to see Mr. 
Holmes, ned me, “and, as Mr. 


Holmes is sists on seeing 
you. He says his business is most urgent.” 

“Well, show him up. Stay, Mrs. Hud- 
son, what's he like?” 

The good woman regarded me can- 
nily. "He says he's an estue a 
Certainly, he's well fed and wi 
you take my meaning.” She tapped the 
side of her nose suggestively with a 
forefinger. 

Presently. there was much hullin 
puffing on the stairs and the door opened 


He 
weighed close to 19 stone and his every 
anied by gasps of effort. 
Your... very... humble . . . ah, 
nt, doctor," he wheezed, pre: 
s card with a feeble flourish. It iden- 
d him as Hezekiah Jackson of Plym- 
outh, estare agent. The place fitted. his 
accent, which was Devonshire in the ex- 
treme. I glanced and took in the beely, 
pulent, puffing countenance of Mr. 
Jackson. His bulbous nose was almost as 
Las a beet and the veins running over 
its tip as pronounced as a map of the 
Nile Delta. They declared Mr. Jackson 
to be a tippler of no mean proportions. 
His wheezing breath tended to confirm 
that declaration, as it was liberally laced 
with alcohol. His brown eyes had а 
glazed, staring look as they endeavoured 
to take in their surroundings. Persp 
tion glistened on his cheeks and forehead, 
dribbling down from his dlose-cropped 
white hair, In another age, he would have 
been the Lord of Misrule. 


y have a 


Thank you, sir, I don't mind if 1 do.” 
He looked round, swaying on his fect, 
for а seat large enough to accommodate 
his bulk. He chose the stuffed leather by 
the fire that Holmes preferred and 
squeezed into it so heavily that i ed 
rmingly. I shuddered to think of the 
detective's response should he return and 
find it exploded by this obese character. 
"bam Dr 
“I know who you are, doctor. 1 know 
all about you. Sherlock's told me a good 
deal about you." He sai a know- 
tone that 1 found vaguely disq 
Indeed. And what can I do for you 
“Well, 1 think for a start you mi 
have the courtesy to offer me a dr 
a drink. It’s devilish cold out thi 
said this with the gre 
sat before me, swe 
“What can I give you 
“Brandy, if you have it. I most alwa 
take a little brandy at this time of da 


sped. "Tear G 
ens, doctor, do yo 
Being a medical man, you must know 
about tea. The great crippler—that's 
what tea is. More men my age drop dead 
result of reckless and intemperate 
consumption of tea than from almost 
any other single cause save tlie colic, You 
unaware of that fact, sir? Dear me, 
where have you been? Do you read no 
other pieces in The Strand magazine but 
your own? Do you honestly suppose I'd 
be the living picture of health that I am. 
if I took tea?” 
Brandy it is, then,” said 1, suppressing 
an overpowering impulse to laugh and 
fetching a glass for him. Holmes certainly 
knew the queerest people, though what 
his connection with this aged toper was, 
1 couldn't for the life of me fathom. 
“And what is your message for Mr. 
Holmes? 
“My mesage?” The brown сус 
douded. “Oh, yes, my message! Tell Mr. 


vesunents in 


Тоди 
Wet? 
‘es, wet, I'm 
the sea, they ha 

“I was unaware that Mr. Holmes had 
invested in land in Гоги. 
Everything he had,” the estate agent 
assured me gravely, picking up his glass 
and burying his nose in it. He nodded, 
shaking his massive head from side to 
side in a despairing attitude. 

"Poor тап. For years he's been in- 
structing me to buy up property over- 


aid. Dropped into 


I—scems to have been ar. 
idea with him to build some kind of 
hotel there—but now, you sce, it’s all 
gone to smash. You've heard about the 
storm we've been endurin' there these 
past four days? No? Well, sir, I don't 
mind telling you I've lived in those parts 
all my life and never scen anything like 
it. Plymouth almost destroyed by floods— 
and huge chunks of land toppling right 
into the Channel. The map makers'll 
have to get busy, make no mistake." He 
buried his enormous nose in the brandy 
once more as 1 digested this information. 

“And do you mean to tell me that Mi 
Holmess land—all of it—has been 
washed into the ocean 

"Every square inch of it, bless you, 
sir. He's ruined, doctor. That's the mel- 
andwly errand that brings me up to 
towi 

"Great Scou!” I leapt to my feet i 
agitation as the full force of the cata 
trophe made itself felt. “Ruined!” I sank 
into my chair, stunned by the suddenness 
of it all. 

"You look as though vou could do 
with a drink yourself, doctor, if you 
don't mind my saying s 

“I think perhaps I could.” I rose on 
unsteady legs and poured a second 
brandy while the fellow broke into a low 
igh behind me. 

wd this 


looking the se; 


I demanded 


ising? 
sternly. 

“Well, you must admit it is rather 
humourous. A man invests every cent һе 
owns land—the est possible in- 
vesiment, you'd say—and then it falls 
right off into the water. Come, now, sir, 
admit in all honesty that there is a kind 
of humour to it.” 
fail to sec anything of the kind 
1 returned with heat. “And I find your in- 
difference to your client's plight positive- 
ly revolting! You come here, drink the 
man's brandy and calmly report. his 
nancial reverses and then laugh at dı 

“Well, sir, put that way 


The 


fellow began some clumsy show of re- 


morse, but 1 was in no mood for 

“I think you'd better go. I shall break 
the news to him myself, and in my own 
way. 

Just as you say, sir," he replied, hand- 
ing me back the brandy glass. "Though 
I must confess I think you king a 
very narrow view of all this. Try to sce 
the humour of i 

“That will do, Mr. Jackson." I turned 
on my heel and replaced the glass on 
the sideboard. 

“Quite right, Watson,” said a famili 
voice behind me. “I think it time to ring 
for tea.” 


CHAPTER XT 
THEORIES AND CHARGES 
“Holmes!” 
I spun round and beheld the detec- 
tive sitting where I had left the estate 


Dej aVu? 


Acte J doing is worth doing again. Some 
А know that. Some will learn. „ш 
One beautiful example is 
| Sylvia Kristel. You saw 
| herin Emmanuelle. But 
| you haven't really seen 
her till you see 
her in May: OUI. 


asked before. But with no real answer. Was 
there a s d Who is stonewalling? 
t This looks like a job 
;4g* for oui! And if you 
2 know what stonewalling 
a is, you know what 
Watergate Fallout is. Yesterday's news- 
papers are still with us in language and para- 
noia. our tells you how and why. Then, The Condom Industry 
reluctantly opens its doors for a look at the billion-dollar product 
that no one used to talk about. Remember? 


with luscious 
bodies on display? 
! If you’ve been 
there, we know 
youll want to go 
І again. Апа you 

E can. Inou. At 
newsstands now! w 


uRE 


PLAYBOY 


172 


Жс 


GIEPRPRDEDCEDD 
Ñ 2 


“1I told you he wouldn't respect me in the morning." 


agent. He was pulling off his huge nose 
and stripping his head of white hair 
Holmes, this is monstrous! 

"I'm afraid it was," he agreed, spitting 
out the wadding he had held his 
cheeks to inflate them. “Childish, I pos 
tively concur. It was such a good dis 
guise, however, that I had to try it on 
someone who knew me really well. I 
could think of no one who fitted that 
description so conveniently as yourself, 
my dear fellow." 

He stood and removed his coat, reveal- 
ing endless padding beneath. I sat down, 
shaking, and watched in silence as he 
divested himself of his costume and thre! 
on his dressing gov 

Hot in there," he noted with a smile, 
“but it worked wonders for me. Still, 
I'm afraid there are still loose ends that 
my new data f. up. By all mea 
let's have tea. 

He rang downst: Hudson 
shortly appeared with the tray, much 
astonished to find Sherlock Holmes in 


sand Mr 


residence. 

1 didn't hear you come i 
“You let me in yourself, Mrs. Hudson: 
Her piece of intelli- 

ce are not relevant here. She departe 
xd Holmes and I pulled up chairs. 

Your eyes!” 1 cried suddenly, the ket- 
ue in my hand. “They're brown! 

“What? Oh, just a minute.” He bent 
forward in his chair so that he was look- 
ing at the floor and pulled back the 
skin by his right temple, cupping his 
other hand beneath his right eye. Into 

dropped a little brown dot. 
ched, nonplusscd, he repeated 
tion with his left ey 

“What in the name of all that's won- 
derful—" I began. 

“Behold the ultimate paraphernalia 
of disguise, Watson.” He stretched forth 
Jlowed me to view the 
Be careful. The 


sir." 


comments à 


lile things. " 
nd very del 
But what are they?" 
refinement of my own—to alter 
the one feature of a man's face по paint 
change. I am not the inventor," he 
hastened to assure me, “though I ven- 
ture to sa m the first to apply these 
little items for this purpose.’ 
“For what purpose are they 
very specific onc. Some twenty 
ycars ago, a German in Berlin discovered 
that he was losing his sight due to an 
fection ou the inside of his eyelids 
that was spreading to the eyes themselves. 
He designed a concave piece of glass— 
rather larger than these and clear, of 
course—to be inserted between the lid 
and the cornea, where they were held in 


place by surface tension, retarded the 


disease and saved his sight.! I read of his 
researches and modified the design slight- 
ly, with the results that you have seen.” 

“But if the glass should bre: 
winced at the thought. 

“It isn't likely. Provided you don't 
rub your eye, the chances of 
hitting it directly are remote. I use th 
rarely—they take some getting used to 
and I find I cannot wear them for more 
than a few hours. After that, they begin 
to hurt and if a speck of dust should 
enter the eye, you find yourself weeping 
as though at a funeral. 

He took the little circles back and 
a small box, evidently 


g yourself an irrepa- 
" I warned, fecling obliged, 
as а medical man, to point out some of 
the obvious pitfalls to him. 

"Von Bülow wore them lor twenty 
years without ill effect. In any event, I 
consulted your friend Dr. Doyle about 
them. He is so caught up in his literary 
whirl that we forget he is also an oph- 
thalmologist. He was extremely helpful 
in his suggestions for the modifications 1 
had in mind. Zciss ground them for me, 
he went on, pocketing the box, "though 
cy they can't have imagined why. 
he filled his pipe and held out 
ard Shaw?" 

Doing my best 10 adjust to these suc 
cessive shocks, I poured out the tea and 
recounted in a few words the tale of 
my meeting at the Café Royal. He heard 
me out in silence save for an occasio: 
pointed question but otherwise pulled 
1 sipped his tea. 
He thought it a practical joke, then? 
was his comment regarding Shaw's ac- 
count of the mysterious assailant. “Wh 
a whimsical turn of mind he must have. 

"I don't feel he thought about it 
much at all—or wanted to." I found my- 
self defending the critic. "He was in such 
a hurry to reach Wilde." 

“Hmm. I wonder who else has been 
pressed to sample this tonic. 

You don't think it a practical joke, 
then 

He smiled. “Most impractical, wouldn't 
you say?” 

‘And what did you discover this after- 
noon?" I demanded in turn. 

He rose and began a perambulation 
of the room, his hands thrust deep into 
the pockets of his dressing gown, smoke 
emanating from pipe as from the 
funnel of a locomoti 

First, I paid a visit to Mr. Stoker's 
clandestine flat in Porkpie Lane,” he 
commenced. “I ascertained, without his 
knowing it, that he cannot account for 
his whereabouts during the time of either 
murder. І learned, as you did. his true 


YThis information is entirely accurate. 
Contact lenses are over 100 years old. 


Christi; ne and his former calling 
as a drama critic. Next, І called upon 
Jessie Rutland’s former lodgings—olt the 
"Tottenham Court Road—and spoke with 
the landlady. She was guarded but more 
help than she knew. 
"his fits in perfectly with a theory I 
have been developing all afternoon!” I 
cried, jumping to my feet. “Would you 
care to hear it?” 
inly. You know I am endlessly 
inated by the workings of your 
id." He took the chair I had lelt. 
“Very well. Jessie Rutland meets Bram 
Stoker. He docs not reveal his name or 
true identity but pretends instead to 
have recently returned from India, where 
he has left his i id wife. He even 
smokes Indian cigars to bolster this im- 
presion. He lets a room in Soho to 
pursue his intrigue, but somehow Jona- 
than McCarthy, an old rival from the 
ma desk—who patronizes the Savoy— 
covers his game and threatens the 
1 with exposure unless she succumbs 
to his attentions. Fearing for herself and 
so for her lover, she agrees. Stoker 
ns of her sacrifice and contacts Mc- 
Carthy, who feels free to change his 
game and asks for money. ‘They agree to 
a meeting to discuss the price of dis- 
tion. During their conversation— 
which begins leisurely enough, over 
brandy and cigars tempers flare and 
Stoker, seizing the letter opener, drives 
it home. He was perfectly capable of 
this,” I added excitedly, as more pieces 
of the puzzle began falling into place 
pellmell, “because he not only 
athletic champion of Dublin University 
but brother to the well-known physic 
William Stoker, from whom he 
ceived a cursory but sufficient introdu 
to anatomy. As you yourself have 


mi 


le 


“Brilliant, 
companion 

pipe with 
“And then 
He leaves. McCarthy is still breathing. 
however, and he forces himself to the 
bookshelf. The copy of Shakespeare i 

his hand was meant to indi 
Lyceum, where the specialty is the Bard. 
Irving is even now producing Macbeth. 
Stoker, in the meantime, has begun to 
panic. He knows that when Miss Rut 
nd learns of McCarthy's death—as as- 
suredly she must—there will be no doubt 
n her mind as to the identity of his 
murderer, The thought of another living 
soul with his secret begins to gnaw at 
him like a cancer. What if the police 
should ever question her? Could she 
withstand their enquiries? He decides 
there is only one solution. The Savoy 
no great distance from the Lyceum. He 
slips backstage and leaves the theatre 
through the old Becfstcak Club Room, 
and runs quickly to the Savoy, where he 
accomplishes the second crime during the 


my 
his 


173 


PLAYBOY 


174 lea 


*You might at least take off my panty hose!" 


rehearsal of The Grand Duke, which he 
knows is in progress. Then he retreats 
hastily to the Lyceum again with no one 
the wiser. There! What do you think of 
th; 


For a time, he did not respond but 
sat puffing on his briar with his eyes 
closed. Had it not been for the con- 
tinuous stream of smoke, 1 should have 
wondered if he was awake. Finally, he 
opened his eyes and withdrew the ріре- 
stem. 

“As far as it goes, it is quite brilliant. 
Really, Watson, I must congratulate you. 
I marvel, especially, at the many uses 
to which you have put that volume of 
Romeo and Juliet. Why did McCarthy 
not choose Macbeth, then, if he wished— 
as you say—to point a finger at the 
Lyceum?’ 

"Perhaps he couldn't see by then, 
‘ded. 

He shook his head with a little smile. 
“No, no. He saw well enough to turn 
over the leaves of the volume he selected. 
That is merely one objection to your 
theory, despite the fact that there are 
some really pretty things in it. It ap. 
pears to explain much, I grant you, but 
in reality it explains nothing. 
othing?" 

“Well, almost nothing," he amended, 
ng over and tapping me consoling- 


I 
h 


ly on the knee. “You mustn't feel of- 
fended. my dear chap. I asure you I 
have no theory whatsoever. At I 
that will accommodate your omi 
And what are they, I should like 
now?” 

“Let us e them in order 
first place, how did Jessie Rutland meet 
Bram Stoker—so that no one we have 
questioned knew of it? Male company 
is severely discou avo: 
you know. Where, then? At M 
land's former lodgings whilst 
versation with the landlady, I learned 
from that reverend dame—who spoke 
quite highly of her boarder—that she ha 
but once seen her in the company of a 
man, and it was not a man with a 
beard. She would not be more specific, 
but that information appears to rule out 
cither of the two men in question. Now, 
as to friend McCarthy's engagement са 
endar. Can you see him, in a mood how- 
ever jocular, referring to Bram Stoker а 
a lovelorn jester? Is there anything par- 
ticularly hapless about Stoker, or feeble? 
Or amusing? I think not. Say, rather, 
does he not strike the casual observer as 
menacing, sinister and quite. powerful? 
And, having said that, are you prepared 
to explain how our Miss Rutland could 
fall in love w 


to 


as 


in love with the critic And granting 
for the moment that she did love Stoker 
and he returned her affection, how are 
you prepared to explain McCarthy's in- 
cautious behaviour in bringing such a 
man to his own home, where there were 
nesses to ensure his safety? Ac- 
rding to your theory, he had made 
love to the lady and now proposed to ex- 
tort money from her true love. Was it 
wise to leave himself alone with а man 
he had so monstrously wronged? Would 
he not consider it flying in the face of 
Providence? Jonathan McCarthy may 
have been depraved—the evidence sug- 
gests it—but there is nothing in the 
record to support the notion that he 


He paused, knocked the ashes from 
his pipe and began to refill it. The action 
appeared to remind him of something. 
nd what of the Indian cigars? Do 
you seriously contend they were smoked 
to convince Miss Rutland that Stoker 
was recently returned from India? I can't 
believe her knowledge of tobaccos w: 
sufficient for her to make such fine dis- 
tinctions. You and I, you may recall, 
were obliged to visit Dunhill's for a 
definite identification. For that matter, 
in the insular world of the theatre, how 
Jong could Stoker- indeed, it was he— 
hope to maintain his Indian deception 
amongst people who knew him so well? 
You heard today that his wife is a friend 
of Gilbert's. How long before Jessie Rut- 
land, working at the Savoy, should 
stumble upon his true identity? And if, 
by some odd twist of reasoning, the 
cigars were smoked to contribute to thc 
illusion, why bring them to McCarthy's 
fla? By your account, the critic knew 
perfectly well who he was. Indeed, how 
get in touch with him if he didn't? And 
what about the letter threatening us, 
message pasted on Indian stock? Isn't it 
rather more likely that Jack Point—as I 
shall continue to call him—is, indeed, 
recently returned. from. India, and this 
accounts for his choice of tobacco and 
letter paper? Finally, your theory fails 
to explain the most singular occurrence 
the eni business, 

“And what is that?” 

“The little matter. of the tonics we 
three were forced to down outside Simp- 
son's last night. Even allowing for Sto- 
ker's physical strength and i 
for outré behaviour, what can he have 
had in mind to make us drink whatever 
it was we swallowed? Until we find out, 
this affair will remain shrouded in 
mystery. 

His logic was so overwhelming that 
I was reluctantly obliged to succumb. 

“What will you do now?" 

"Smoke. It is quite a three-pipe prob- 
lem—1 am not sure but it may be more.” 

With t he settled himself down 
amongst a of cushions on the floor 
nd proceeded to smoke three additional 
pipes in rapid succession. He neither 


moved nor blinked but sat stationary, 
like the Caterpillar in Alice, contemplat- 
ing I knew not what as he polluted our 
rooms with noxious fumes of shag. 
Familiar with this vigil, 1 occupied my 
ne by tying to read, but even Clark 
Russell's fine stories could not engage 
my attention as the dark settled over 
London. They seemed tame, indeed, 
when compared with the mystery that 
confronted us—a mystery as tangled and 
complex as апу J could recall in the 
long and distinguished career of my 
friend. Holmes had been correct when 
he spoke of the liquid we had been 
to the busi 
1 could 


forced to swallow as the kı 
ness. Try as I might, how 
scarcely remember what it tasted like and 
my inability to recall anything of the 
persistent host who served it—save for his 
gloves —teased me beyond endurance. 
Holmes was in the act of filling a 
fourth pipc—his disreputable cli 
when his ritual and my impatience were 
brought to a simultaneous end by a 
knock on the door, followed by the en- 
trance of a very cocksure Inspector 
Lestrade. 
Found any murderers lately, Mr. 
Holmes?" he demanded with a mischic- 
vous air as he removed his coat. The 
^s idea of subtlety was clephantine. 
Not lately." The detective looked up 
calmly from the centre of his mushroom 
like arrangement of cushi 
“Well, I hav ed the little man. 


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“Indeed? The murderer of Jonathan 
McCarthy 
“And the murderer of Miss Jessie Rut 
land. You didn't know these crimes 
were related, did you? Well, they are, 
they positively are. Miss Rutland was 
the mistress of the late critic, and they 
were both dispatched by the same hand.” 
"Indeed," Holmes repeated, turning 
pale. It would cut him to the quick, I 
knew, should this fool manage to solve 
the two murders before himself. His 
vanity and professional pride were at 
stake. Everything he stood for in the 
of criminal detection demanded 
that his methods not be beaten by апу 
so haphazard and clumsy as those of 
Scotland Yard, 
ndeed," he echoed a third time. 
“And have you found out why the 
murderer should smoke Indian cigars?” 
“Indian cigars?” Lestrade guffawed. 
“Are you still on about them? Well, if 
you must know, ГЇЇ explain it to you. 
them an Jn- 


ма 


D 


because he's 


?" we exclaimed together. 
s right, a sambo; a Sikh. His 
name is Achmet Singh and he's been in 
England just under a year, running а 
used-furniture and curio shop in the 
‘Tottenham Court Road with his mother.” 
Lestrade walked about the room, chuck- 
ling and rubbing his hands, scarcely able 
to contain his sellsatisfaction and glee. d 
If Sherlock Holmes felt chagrined by |__| 


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Because Excit"has something to 
offer me. Its specially ribbed surface gives 
me gentle stimulating sensations. And its. 
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never thought possibe. Excita offers more 
for him too. Its specially flared shape offers 
more freedom of movement inside the con- 
raceptive for а greater. more natural sensation 
Excita, in a light color tint, is a stimulating 


175 


PLAYBOY 


176 


the policeman's news, he did his best to 
conceal the fact. 

Where did he meet Miss Rutlan 

“His shop is just down the road from 
her boardinghouse. The landlady ide: 
tified him for me, saying he used to сай 
for her there and tke her out walking. 
She was so scandalized by the thought of 
her lodger taking up with a brown devil 
that she didn't open up to you about 
it” He laughed again. "At least I as- 
sume it was you she was talking to 
earlier in the day." He gestured with 
his hands, delineating a corpulent belly, 
ng some more. “That's where being 
police comes in handy, Mr. 


“May 1 he was doing with 
tobacco if he is a Sikh?” 

“Whats he doing in England? you 
might as well ask! But if he went to 
mingle with white folk, he'll ‘ave taken 
to some of our ways, no doubt. Why, 
the fellow was even attending evening 
classes at the University of London." 

“Ah. A sure sign of the criminal mind.” 

You can jeer,” the inspector re- 
turned, undisturbed, “The point is"— 
he placed a forefinger emphatically on 


the detectives chest—"the point is that 
the man cannot account for his time 
during the period when cither murder 


took place. He had the time and the 
motive," the policeman concluded tri- 
umphantly. 

"The motive?" I interjected. 

Jealousy! Heathen passion! You can 
sce that, surely, doctor. She dropped 
him and took up with that newspaper 


Lissa were Ty 


“Who invited him to his home, where 
the Sikh drank brandy,” Holmes offered 
mildly. 


“Who knows if he drank a drop? The 
ts side with the 
cepted 


glass was knocked on 
drink still in it. He might have 
the offer of a glass simply 
plan to gain admittance to the pl 

“He went there, of course, 
murder weapon of some sort was bound 
to be ready to hand" 

“1 didn’t say the plan was murder,” 
Lestrade countered. "l didn't say any- 
thing about premeditated murder, did 
12 He may simply have wanted to plead 
the return of his white woman. 
le stood up and took his coat. 
almost the right height. He's 
ned, too. 


for 


Lest med broad! 

"His shoes, Mr. Holmes. are three 
weeks old and were purch the 
Strand 


After Lestr 
Holmes sat motionless [or a conside 
period of time. He looked to be in such 
а brown study that 1 did not like to 
disturb. him, but my own anxici 
great that I was unable to remain silent 
for very long. 

“Hadı't we best speak with the man. 
I asked. throwing myself into a chair 
before him. He looked up at me slowly, 
his countenance creased with thought. 

“I suppose we had." he allowed, get- 
ting to his fect and assembling his 


clothes. “Tt is as well, in such circum- 
ugh the motions.” 


have 


apprel 
“The вищу 


aded the guilty party 

He considered 
the question, thrusting some keys into 
his waistcoat pocket and taking a bull's 
суе lantern from behind the deal table. 
“1 doubt it. There are too n 
planations, and phrases such as 
the right height’ give away the holes in 
their case, However, we'd best take a 
look, if only to find out what didn 
happen." He came forward with the 
gravest expression I had ever beheld on 


his face. “I have an inkling about this 
that bodes ill, Watson. Lestrade 


built up a neat circumstantial сазе in 
which the hideous spectre of racial 
bigotry plays a large and unsubtle ròl 
Achmet Singh may not be guilty, but the 
odds are against him.” 

He said no more ou the subject but 
allowed me to ponder his view of the 
sit nt cab drive to White- 
hall. There was no great difficulty in 
our being admitted to interview the 
prisoner, Lestrade’s visit having included 
ап invitation to sce the man [or our- 
selv 

The moment we were shown to Achmet 
Singh's cell, Sherlock Holmes breathed 
а sigh of relief. The man we studied 
through the small window of his cell door 
was diminutive in stature and wiry of 
build. He appeared neither large enough 
nor strong enough to perform the physi- 
ts counsel would have to attribute 
to him. Moreover, he wore а pair of 
the thickest spectacles 1 had ever seen 
and was rcadi newspaper held up 
to his nose at a 90-degrce angle. 

Holmes nodded to the guard 
door was unlocked. 


ation on a sil 


d the 


of dark-brown 
squinted up at us from behind 
glasses. "Who is that" 

1 am Sherlock Holmes. 
Watson.” 


eyes 
the 


This is Dr. 


le fellow 
son!” He 
made t seize our hands but thought 
better of it and drew. back suspiciously. 
"What do you want? 
То help you, if we 
kindly. “May we sit dow 
He shrugged and 
his meagre pallet. 
“There is no help for me," he re 
sponded in a trembling voice. “I cannot 
account for my time and I knew the 
girl. Also, my shoes are the right size 
and purchased in the wrong place. Final- 
ly, P am coloured. What jury in the 
world could resist such 
“A British jury will resist it,” I said, 
provided we can show that the prosecu- 
tion cannot prove its case.” 
“Bravo, Watson.” Holmes sat down on 


n," said Holmes 


iguely indicated 


combina 


and motioned for me to do the 
Ir. Singh, why don't you tell 
us your version of events? Cigaret” He 
made as if to reach for a case in his 
pocket, but the other declined it with a 
distracted wave of his hand. 

“My religion denies me the consola- 
tions of tobacco and liquor." 

“What a pity.” Holmes could scarcely 
conceal a smirk. "Now tell me what 
you know of this business." 

"What can I tell you, since I did not 
kill poor Miss Rutland and do mot 
know who did?" Tears stood in the 
miserable wretch’s magnified pa- 
thetically by his thick lenses, which al- 
most scemed to double his sorrow. 

“You must tell us what you can, how- 
ever unimportant it may scem to you. 
Let us begin with Miss Rutland. How 
did you come 10 know her? 

The leaned up 
brick wall next to the door 
his voice to the corner 

“she came into my shop. 
just round the corner from he: 
deal in curios from the East as well as 
secondhand? English furniture and she 
liked то look at the things there when 
to herself, 1 would 
answer her ques about the pieces 
she liked and tell her what I could of 
their origins. Slowly we began to dis- 
cuss other matters. She was ап orphan 
and my mother had passed not 
long ago. Aside from my customers and 
her friends in the theatre, we neither of 
us knew many people." He paused and 
swallowed painfull Adam's apple 
prounding from the tightened muscles in 
s scrawny neck. as he turned and faced 
the detective across the cell. “We were 
lonely, Mr. Holmes. Is that a ciii 
Indeed it is not,” 
gently. 

T1 for walks. 
Nothing more, I give you my word!” he 
added hastily. "Only walks, In the eve- 
ni ore the weather turned cold and. 
she had to leave for the theater, we 
strolled. And continued con- 


the cot 
same. 


prisoner the 


inst 
nd direc 


which is 
room. 1 


she had some time 


кау 


his 


said my companion 


we our 


versa 

“Lunderstand.” 

"Do you" He emitted а 
bled nothing so much sob. 
“That is good. Inspector Lestrade docs 
not. He places a rather different con 
struction on my behaviour." 

"Do wot concern yourself with Iu- 
spector Lestrade for the moment. Pray. 
continue your narrative. 

"There isn't any тоге, Wherever 
walked, people stared at us and whis 
pered as we passed. At first, we paid no 
attention. We were so lonely our loneli- 
ness lent us the courage to defy con- 
ventions. 

“And thet 


s. 


augh that 
rese 


as 


we 


2"Used furniture" and “secondhand 
furniture” are accepted English. syno- 


пут; for our American “antiques.” 


by 


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77 


PLAYBOY 


He sighed and his shoulders shook. 
"And then we began to notice. It 
frightened us. We tried to ignore our 
fears for а time, but we were too fright- 
ened even to mention them to ourselves. 
And then—" He hesitated, confused by 
own recollections. 
“Же 
‘She met another man." His low voice 
made it difficult to catch the words. “A 
white man. It pained her to tell me, 
he continued, tears rolling freely down 
his cheeks now, “but our awkwardness to- 
gether increased. Our fears grew greater. 
"There were little incidents—a word ov 
heard as we walked by a knot of trades- 
men—and she became more terrified and 
reluctant to go with me when I came to 
call for her. Still, she did not know how 
ars or about the man 
I do not think she wished 
He paused. “So I told he 
I said our being seen together so fre- 
quently was begiunii e comment 
in the neighbourhood and I thought it 
better that such talk be stopped lest it in- 
jure her reputation or get back to the 
theatre. She tried not to show her relief 
when I said these things, but I could 
see a great weight had been lifted from 
her shoulders. She was a good perso 
Mr. Holmes, kind and gencrous to a 
fault, and it was not her way to abandon 
a friend. It was then that she told me 
about the man she had met. The white 
* he repeated in a tone so helpless 
it wrenched my heart to listen to 
“What did she say about him 
“Why, nothing, but that she had met 
him and come to love him. The rules at 
the Savoy are terribly strict. regarding 
such things and she was forced to be 
discreet. Also, 1 think she did not wish 
to pain me with the details, That is why 
we never ventured into neighbourhoods 
other th our own," he added, "be. 
cause it would have meant ruin for her 
t the theatre had she been recognized 
in my company." He looked up at us 
from the posture to which he had suc- 
cumbed on his knees. “TI all there 
is to tell 
“What are you studying at the uni- 
versity?” 


to tell me." 


nt over and shook 
his hand. "Mr. Singh, 1 beg of you to 
be of good cheer. The matter stands 
against you for the time being, but I 
shall see to it that you never appear in 
the dock.” 

The Indian studied him searchingly 
from behind his thick spectacles for some 
moments. "Why should it matter to you 
whether I stand there or not? I do not 


Sherlock Holmces's grey eyes grew moist 


with an emotion I had seldom seen 
there. 
To pursue the truth in this world 


178 is a trouble we all undertake gladly on 


our own behalf,” said he. 

The Sikh looked at him, the tears 
still streaming down his face, swallowing 
1 unable to speak. 

“The man's vision is hopelessly 
astigmatic,” Holmes observed as we 

d from the gloomy bui “Did 
you notice how he was forced to read 
his paper?" His customary detachment 
of voice and facial expression had been 
forcibly restored. “To imagine that he 
can even see clearly across a table the 
size of the one in McCarthy's flat is as 
difficult as it is to envisage someone of 
his size striking a single fatal blow from 
that distance with a blunttipped letter 


do you propose, then? 
He looked at his watch in the light 

of the street lamp. 

А little past eight," he noted. “The 

theatres are busy. Would you care to 

accompany me on an exc „ doctor? 

mber fourteen Porkpie Lane, 


“To Bram Stoker's flat? We are going 
to burgle 
“IL you've no objection, 
"None whatever. But why, 
ject my theory, does the pla 
you? 
“We have no choice, in view of re 
cent developmenis"—he gestured with a 
crooked thumb in the general direction 
of the Sikh's cell —"but to eliminate even 
the outside suspects in this matter. І can 
emerge with no theory of my own and 
Stoker taunts us like an apparition. Per- 
haps we can his influence on our 
thinking. For this purpose, 1 have brought 
а bull'seye and some keys that may be 
useful to us. Are you coming? Good. 
Cab!" 
The cab took us into a part of the 
t End with which I was not familiar. 
threaded our way at first through 
well, if garishly, lit neighbourhoods, 
listening to raucous laughter and tinny 
music, and then passed into an area 
where even the occasional street lamp 
provided scant illumination. Looking 
about in the gloom, I felt little inclined 
to remain in one place and did not like 
the thought of being stranded there. Not 
many folk were about in this quarter of 
the town; at any rate, not many were 
visible, but I sensed them behind wii 
dows, round corners and in the men- 
acing shadows of buildings, Our cab w 
obviously a novelty in the vicinity, a dis- 
tinction keenly felt by the driver, whom 
J could hear muttering ап unceasing 
string of maledictions above us. The 
horse’s hooves echoed eerily on the de- 
serted cobblestones. 
mber 14 Porkpie Lane was a three- 
storey affair that looked positively 
squeezed between its neighbours, two 
secdy constructions on either side of it. 
Somewhat taller, they leaned towards 
each other over the roof of number 14, 
creating a viselike impress 


if you re 
ce interest 


W 
We 


Which is it?" I asked, looking up at 
the queer structure. 

“Оп the second storey, in the middle. 
The window's dark, as you can see. It 
has a litle ledge beneath it.” 
omeone thought of putting а bal- 
cony there, once, 

"Very likely." 

We descended from the cab and made 
ngements with the unwilling driver 
to come back in an hour and fetch us 
home. He was not loath to go 
could not blame him, for the set 
not in any way appealing. I only hoped 
he would prove as good as his word and 
return. 

We waited 
est edifice until the horse had clattered 
round the corner. Then, looking care- 
fully about, Holmes produced a latchkey 
from his pocket and held it up to the 
faint light. 

“A very useful item, 
softly. “I had it from Tony O'Hara, the 
sneak thief, when I nabbed him. You re- 
call the case, Watson? It was a sort of 
1 entire ring of these little 
ies. Each will tackle а great many 
simple locks of the same make. Or if it 

ails, you have only to move round the 


this,” said he 


"You chose only two this night" 1 
pointed out as he inserted the key in 
the loor lock and began to fiddle 
and twist it. "How did you know which 
to bring? 

“By exan 
noon." 

"E had no idea you were so adept 
breaking and entering." 

"Quite he replied cheerfully, 
and always ready in а good cause. It is 
ause that justifies little fel 
^ His eyes nwinkled 
L'homme cest пеп, 


ng the locks this after- 


at 


The lock had yielded to his gentle 
ministrations and now the door opened 
before us, the small passage on the other 
side of it leading instantly to a rickety 
flight of stairs. We ascended without 
hesitation, judging that the less time we 
spent exposed to view, the safer we 
should be. I looked about as we climbed, 
wondering what sort of place it was. А 
step or two behind me on the stairs, the 
detective read my thoughts. 


“It's sort of boardinghouse of the 
kind ( ers for transient. chi 
ters,” he informed me, “Keep moving." 


It took rather more time to open the 
door to the flat, but after some deli 
manipulations, this obstacle was a 
overcome and we found ourselves in the 
y of Bram Stoker. 

Holmes opened the bull'eje and we 
surveyed the small roo 

“Not suffused with romance,” he cor 
mented dryly, holding the lantern high 
above his head and turning slowly. The 
room. though shabby, was nonetheless 
neat and spare. There were only three 


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PLAYBOY 


180 


ticles of furniture to be scen—a desk, 
a chair and а small divan. On the desk 
was à lone inkwell and a blotter. The 
cracked and peeling walls boasted not 
a single picture or decoration of any 
sort. 


rcely а trysting place,” 1 agreed, 
ng at Holmes. He grunted by way of 
reply à ds the desk. 
Watson, 
Stoker's secret mistress is the 
ture. But why all the cir- 
cumspection?" He sat down before the 
desk, setting the lantern on top of it, 
nd began pulling open drawers. I ad- 
nced behind him and looked over 
his shoulder as he drew forth bundles of 
1, neat, surpris- 
ngly feminine handwriting. 

“Have a look at some of this.” He 
sed me a sheaf and I began to read, 

п for want of a chair 

had 
А out a series of letters, 
extracts [rom diaries and personal notes 
written or exchanged between people 
named Jonathan Harker, Lucy Westenra, 
Dr. Abraham Van Helsing, Arthur Holm- 
wood and Mina Murray. 

“This must be some sort of nov 
Holmes intoned softly, bent over а por- 
tion of it. 

“A novel? Surely not.” 

“Yes, a novel; written in the form of 


“I begin to see the logic ol 
Our Mr. 


р: 
standing next to 
or other source of light. "The m 


apparently coy 


letters and journals. Does nothing strike 
you about the name Jonathan Hai 
“I suppose it vaguely resembles Sto- 
ker's real name." 
guely? It contains pre 
same number of sy 
puted еса 
names in exactly 


sely the 
they arc 
nd 
manner. 


me source, the Bible. Harker 
self." 


from the sa 
must be his lites 

“Why, ther 
Van Helsing?” 1 asked, sho! 
the name. He read it, frown: 
Name games, name games," he mur- 
mured. "Obviously, that part of my 
ES correct—or, at any 
complete." He continued read 
turning over the es of the manu- 
script in an orderly fashion, his lips 
pursed with concentration. 

"Look at this." he said, alter the space 
of a few minutes’ silence. 1 returned from 
an idle tour of the room and read over 
his shoulder again: 


is there a Dr. Abraham 


g him 


On the bed beside the window lay 
Jonath is face flushed, 
and breathing hea s though 
in a stupor. Knecling on the edge 
of the bed, facing ourwards, was the 
white-clad figure of his wile; by her 
le stood a tall, thin man, the Count. 
ht hand gripped the back 


"T can't hire you until I get back from vacation. No point 
in giving anyone else a head start!” 


of her neck, forcing her face down 
on his bosom. Her white night 
dress was smeared with blood. and 
a thin stream trickled down the 
man’s bare chest, which was shown 
by his torn open dress. The attitude 
of the two had a terrible resem- 
blance to a child's forcing a kitten's 
nose into a sucer of milk to compel 
itto d 3 


He set down another 


me: 


And you are now to me, flesh of 
my flesh, blood of my blood, kin of 
my kin; my bountiful wine press for 
a while.” He then pulled open the 
shirt with his long, sharp nails, and 
opened a vein in his breast. When 
the blood began to spurt out, hc 
took my hands in onc of his, holding 
them tight, and with the other 
seized my neck and pressed my 
mouth to the wound, so that 1 might 
either suffocate or allow some of 
the—oh, my God, what have 1 dor 


“Holmes, what sort of mad work is 


thi 
"No wonder he w 


es in secrecy,” the 


detective agreed, looking up. "Have you 
noticed anything else 


do you mean? 
Only that our Mr. Stoker knows how 
to induce swallowing.” 1 looked at the 
two passages again and we stared at 
cach other, horror written on our faces. 
ın we have been forced to drink 
blood?" I whispered in awed tones. 
Before he could answer, we were both 
made aware of the clip-clop of horses? 
hooves entering the 
“The cab's not due L 
observed, snapping shut the bull'seye 
d plunging the room into darkness. 
He pecred through the shutters into 
"Great Scout! It's him! 
bby?” 
“Stoker!” 


CHAPTER ХИТ 
THE MISSING POLICEMAN 
“Hurry, Watson.” Rapidly, Holmes as- 
sembled the papers and replaced them 
in the drawers from which they had been 
taken, As we heard the cab door slam 
in the stillness, he Icapt to the door of 


3This passage and the names men- 
tioned in the text make it abundantly 
plain that the manuscript in question 
was ап early draft of “Dracula,” begun 
in 1895 by Stoker and published in 1897. 
Ellen Terry's mention of "It happened 
once before” undoubtedly refers to the 
publication of Stokers shori stories, 
"Under the Sunset.” Henry Irving was 
extremely possessive about Stoker's time. 


the flat and locked it from within. 

"But, Holme” 

“The balcony, man! Quick! 

In less time than it takes to 
threw open the window and passed out 
onto the precarious ledge, closing the 
shutters behind us as Stoker's heavy tread 
was audible on the stairs. 

"Don't look down" were my com- 
panion's last instructions as we flattened 
ourselves against the building wall and 
ited developments. 

We had not long to wait. W 
onds of our gaining tenuous positions of 
safety, the door to the flat was reopened 
and Stoker entered the room. He closed 
and locked the door behind him, then 
proceeded to his desk, lit the gas and 
pulled open the drawers. He took out 
pens, fresh paper and what he had al 
dy written, spent some minutes or- 
dering his materials but did not appear 
to notice anything amiss. Without fur- 
ther preamble, he settled down to work 
on his ghastly manuscript. 

How long we stood on that slender 
shelf, clutching the bottom of the w 
dow frame for support, it is difficult to 
say. The moon had risen, pinning us like 
specimens beneath an obse lig] 
We dared not move, for we were so 
near the dandestine novelist that our 
merest sound was certain to excite his 
suspicions. As the time passed and we 
prayed for the return of our cab, our 
hands, even in their gloves, beg 
lose sensation. The stillin 
was broken only by an occ 
trom within. 

After what seemed а 


eport, we 


aw 


hin sec- 


to 
ss round us 
ional cough 


year, the silence 


was abruptly shattered by the hoofbeats 
of another horse. Holmes and I cx- 
changed looks and he signed for me to 


peer under the shutters. I did so and 
was able to discern the bending author 
in pursuit of his story, happily indifferent 


to any disturbance outside his m 
world. I looked again at Holmes, i 
dicaing with a blink of my eyes th 


all was well, and he gestured with a 
free hand, explaining that we must 
jump onto the roof of the cab as it 
stopped underneath. 

The poor cabby entered the alley 
nervously and looked about. Holmes 
gnalled from our perch above and 
waved him over, placing a finger on hi 
lips in a theatrical plea for silence. The 
man appeared quite dumbfounded by 
the sight of us, hanging. as it were, from 
the moon, but responded to the detec- 
tives repeated gesticulations and moved 
the vehicle hesitantly forward, When he 
had arranged the cab's position perfectly, 
we lowered ourselves gingerly to the roof 
before him, making but little noise in 
the process. Holmes clapped the cabby 
on the back when we had landed, in a 
grateful embrace. 

Baker Street, again,” he urged quietly, 
and we returned to our lodgings, leaving 


the fiendish Mr. Stoker to his queer 
literary efforts. 

“Your theory has had another hole 
marked as we 


punched in it,” Holmes r 
climbed the 17 steps to our rooms. 
“Bram Stoker's secret lair is used for his 
writing, not his rendezvous, and his pas- 
time is one of which his family and em- 
ployer disapprov 

“I can sce why," I acknowledged, "but 
what about the passages in the book — 
the ones in which folk are compelled to 
drink 

"ve been thinking about them on 
our way back,” he returned, stopping 
on the stairs. “You will find that if you 
wish to induce swallowing, there is 
only one way to go about it. No, Wat- 
son, I am afraid matters have come to 
a very serious We might wish 
Bram Stoker an, but he is 
not—no more than that miserable wretch 
Lestrade has arrested. The only diller- 
ence between them,” he added, openi 
the door, "is that if we cannot find 
the true murderer, Achmet Singh will 
hang. Hullo! Who is here? Why, its 
young Hopkins!" 

It was, indeed, the sandy-haired police- 

man, who was just being shown to a 
chair by our landlady as we entered. He 
rose awkwardly at once and explained 
that Mrs. Hudson had told him he might 
wait for us there. 
"Quite right, Mrs. Hudson," Holmes 
asured her, interrupting her own flow 
of oratory on the subject. "I know that 
you don't like policemen standing about 
in your parlour.” 

The longsuffering woman referred 
briclly to the strange goings on of late (by 
which she meant, I knew, Holmes's ap- 
pearance in disguise that afternoon) and 
withdrew. 

Now, then, Hopkins,” Holmes began 
as soon as the door had closed, "what 
brings you to Baker Street at ап hour 
when most off-duty policem 
home resting their feet? I perceive that 
your route here has been a circuitous 
one and that you have taken great pains 
to avoid being seen. 

“Heavens, sir, how can you tell that? 

"My dcar young man, you have divest- 
е of your po- 
lice uniform, which means you probably 
stopped off home, first, and then, look 
at your trouser leg. There must be 
seven different splashes there, each evi- 
dently from a different part of town. I 
recognize some mud from 
Gloucester Road, the cement they are 
using at the Kensington H. 

"p have had to be extremely circum- 
spect.” The youth blushed and looked 
from one to the other of us uncertainly. 

“You may speak before Dr. W; 
here as before myself,” Holmes promised 
smoothly. 

“Very well.” He sighed and took what 
was palpably a difficult plunge. “I must 


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PLAYBOY 


182 


tell you gentlemen straight off that my 
appearance herc tonight puts me in a 


very awkward situation—with the force, 
I mean.” He cyed us anxiously. “Гус 
come on my own initiative, you see, and 


not in any official capacity.” 
“Bravo.” Holmes murmured. "I 
right, Hopkins. There is hope for you 
“I very much doubt if there will be 
at the Yard if they learn of this.” the 
forlorn policeman replied, his face fall- 
g further at the thought. 
best be” 
"Why dor 
to the fire and begin 
Holmes interrupted with soothing cour- 
тезу. “There you are; make yourself 
quite at home and comfortable. Would 
you care for something to drink? No? 
Very well, I am all attention.” To prove 
ît. he crossed his legs and closed his eves. 
It’s about Mr. Brownlow.” the ser- 
gemt commenced hesitantly, He saw that 
Holmes's eyes were shut and looked at 
me, confused, but I motioned him 
on. “Mr. Brownlow.” he repeated. 
know Mr Brow 
Fhe police surgeon? I believe I 
passed him on my way downstairs at 
tyfour South 
morning. He was on his way for Мс 
Carthy's remains, was he not? 
Yes, sir.” Hopkins ran a tongue over 
his dry lips. 
“A good man 
anything remar 
There was а p 
. Holmes. 
But he's submitted his 
Vo. The fact is,” 
Mr. Brownlow has disapp 
opened his eyes. 


w go 
“You 


Brownlow. Did he fin 
n his autopsy 
We don't. know, 


ble 
sc. 


Holmes. 


ve blew air soundlessly 
from his cheeks. With automatic ges 
tures. his slender hands began ner 
had been lying пе: 


"He was 
work on McCa 


The sergeant 
though 
assist 


“Не threw : all the 
acher- bearers out of 
the laboratory; made all of "em take off 
all their. clothes l scrub down with 
Gubolic and alcohol and shower. And 
you know what he did while they were 


detective shook his head. I fo 
ining to catch the serg 


s, he burned all their 
My companion's eyes grew very bri 
at this. "Did he, 
appeared?” 
Not just yet. He continued to work 


ight 
adeed? And then dis- 


on the corpse by himself, and then, as 
you know, Miss Rutland's remains were 
carried in and he went briefly to work on 
them. He grew excited all over ag. 
d a summoned the stretcher- 
bearers and his assistants together and 
made them take off all their clothes once 
more, scrub with curbolic and alcohol 
and shower.” He paused, licked his lips 


and took a breath. “And while they were 
showering” 

“He burned their clothes a second 
time?” Holmes enquired. He could not 
suppress xcitement and rubbed his 
hands together with satisfaction, puffing 


rapidly on his pipe. The young man 
nodded. 
“Te was almost fu They thought 


he'd started to. play some sort of prank 
on them the first time, but now they 
were furious, especially the bearers. They 
all had to be wrapped in blankets from 
the emergency room and in the mean- 
Mr. Brownlow'd barricaded him- 
tory! They brought 
son down from Whitehall, 


Inspector Gr 
but ће wouldn't PE the door to hi 


either. He had a police revolver with 
him in Ш md threatened to shoot 
the firs, man across the threshold. The 
door is quite solid and has no window, 
so they were obliged to leave him there 
all afternoon and into the night. Now 
he is gone.” 


8 


c How? Surely they had sense 

to post the 
laboratory door." 

Hopkins nodded vigorously. “They 


did but didn't ui 
the back of the 


nk to post one outside 
Iborator 


“And where does that door lı 
“To the stables and mews, The labora- 


tory receives its supplies that way. The 
door is bigger and easier to lock, so 
that they never thought то challenge it. 
You see, Mr. Holmes, it never occurred 
to any of us that his object was to leave 
the laboratory. Quite the reverse. We 
assumed his purpose was to make us 
leave and remain in sole possession. Be- 
sides. they could hear him talking to 
himself in there.” 

Holmes closed his сусу and 
back once more in his cha 
the back way?" 

“Aye, sir. In a police van." 

"Indeed. Have you checked at his 
Brownlow's married, I seem to 
and lives in. Knighisbridge. Have 
tried him ther 

"He's not been home, sir. We've men 
posted by it and neither they nor his 
missis has scen hide nor hair. She's quite 
worked up about it, needless to say." 

“How very curious. I take it none of 
this activity at the morgue has had the 
slightest effect oi 
Yard that Achmet Si 
double murde 

No effect wh sir, 
venture 10 suppose there must 
n of some sort.” 


leaned 
So he left 


though I 


be a 
connec 


“What makes you suppose il 
Young Hopkins swallowed with diffi 
culty. “Because there's one other. thing 
I haven't told you, Mr. Holmes. 
“And that is? 
"Mr. Brownlow took the bodies with 


t forward so 
geant flinched. 
land and McCarthy? 


тиру that 
“What? Miss Rut 


rec, sir.” The detective 

n pacing about the room 
as the other watched. “L came to you. 
sir, because in my limited experience, 


you appear to think much more logically 
about certain. matters than . he 


trailed off, embarrassed by his own in- 
discreti 


. but Holmes, deep in thought. 
d not to notice 
Hopkins, woukl o 


g over to the 


Liboratory and hav dose look at 
things there place you in an awkward 
position? 

"The young man paled, “Please. sir, 


you mustn't think of doing it. The 
is, they're all of a dither down there 
me to know what's 
L They've got it in their heads 

thing could make them а laugh 
k—ıhe idea of the police sur 
Ш those clothes and then ab- 
ag With two corpses” 
is one мау of lookin 
Holmes ed. “Very well. 
must answer a few more questions to the 
very best af your ability.” 

"TIL ay, sir- 

“Have you seen 
Brownlow abandoned i 

“Yes, sir. 1 made it my business to have 
а look.” 

Capital! Really, Hopkins, you exceed 
my fondest hopes. Now tell me, what was 


m 


abi 


the laboratory since 


in concentra- 
ig the detec 


geant frowned 
дет 10 continue carm 
tive's ellusive pr 

Nothing much, I'm afraid. Rather less 
than usual; in The place had been 
saubbed clean as a whistle and ly 
recked of carbolic. The only thing out of 
the ordinary was the pile of burnt clothes 
in the chemical basins, where he'd set fire 
to them. And he'd poured lye over the 

һе 
How did you know what they were, 
in that cas 

‘Some of 
sir." 

"Hopkins. you are a mump.” Holmes 
rubbed his hands together once more. 
“And have your sore throat and headache 
quite vanished? 

Quite, sir. Y 
was probably jus 
gaped at the detective. “I 
mentioning my illness.” 

Nor did you—which doesn't alter the 
fact of your recovery. I am delighted 10 
learn of both. You haven't left out any- 
thing: А little nip of something on the 
side: 


the buttons still. remained, 


Lestrade said it 
* He stopped and 
don't. recall 


Away to save hours in 
blood transfusions when there 
arerit even seconds to waste. 


А massive accident. 

An emergency ward scram- 
bles as ambulances begin to roll 
in. Dozens of people have been 
seriously injured. | 

То save lives, blood transfu- 
sions are needed for many. And 
speed is critical to preventshock, 

alling blood pressure, even an- 
oxia in vital nerve centers. 


Precious time lost. 


Before stored blood can be 
transfused, it should be filtered. 

And until recently, this fil- 
tering process was a potential for 
a el bottleneck. Caused by 
as seemingly simple a thing as 
the casing for the filter element. 

The casings were made of 
stainless steel. Sturdy, unbreak- 
able, but far too expensive to 
throwawayafteruse, so they had 
to be cleaned, sterilized and re- 
used. And sterilization meant 
several hours of boiling, or long 
exposure to cobalt radiation. 

But when the sudden need 
arose for immense quantities of 
blood ina hurry, the hours spent 
in sterilization became desper- 
ately unaffordable. 


New casings cut delays. casing and filter and unpackage And the crucial hours once 
Thesolutionwasfoundinfil- fresh, sterile replacements. spent on the sterilization of cas- 

ter casings made of K-resin} а Thenewcasingshaveeven ings have now become scant 
clear, virtually unbreakable plas- helped hospitals save money, by minutes. 
tic that provided the same vital | spending more efficiently. A time-saving, life-saving 
qualities of durability and аѕерѕіѕ Тһе valuable time of hospi- new procedure made possible by 
asstainless steel casings, but elim- tal employees is no longer taken ап innovation in plastic. 
inated delays. upin ihe time-consuming handl- A plastic developed by the 
| Because of ше Eon ing of the stainless steel casings. «шере who maki 
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Hopkins looked at him uncertainly. 
“Nip? No, sir. | don't know what you 
mean, I'm afraid.” 

“Doubtless not. Lestrade feels fit, too, 
now, docs he?” 

“He is quite recovered,” the sergeant 
answered, giving up all hope of learning 


the detective’s secrets, Holmes scowled 
and cupped his chin in thought. 

“You are both luckier than you 
know: 


“See here, Holmes 
to see what you are gett 
some matter of contamin 
gion involved 

“Precisel 
have yet to discover what is in danger of 
proliferating. Watson, you saw both bod- 
ies and conducted a cursory examination 
of their condition suggest am 
thing in the nature of a disease to you? 

1 sat and pondered while they watched, 
Holmes barely able to conceal his impa- 
tience. 

“I believe I stated at the time both 
throats were prematurely stiff- though 
ids were swollen. But any number 
mon ailments begin with a sore 


." I broke in, "I seem 
. There's 


Holmes sighed, nodded and turned 


once more to the policeman. "Hopkins, I 
very much fe: discreet. t to the k 
of the mortuary laboratory is inevitable. 


‘The stakes are too great that we should 
hesitate to trifle with the dignity of the 
metropolitan police. We must see how 
one man carried out two corpses. We 
already begin to know why 

“To dispose of them?” I asked. 

He nodded grimly. 

“And it would be as well to put out a 
general alarm for that missing police va 

“That has already been donc, Mr. 
Holmes," said the young sergeant with 
some satisfaction. “If it's in London, we'll 
ау hands on it.” 

"That is exactly what you must nonc of 
you do," Holmes returned, throwing on 
his coat, "No one must go near it. Watson, 
are you still рате? 


CHAPTER XIV 
THE SCOURGE OF GOD 
Moments later, we stood in the com- 
ра of the anxious sergeant on the 
stretch of pavement before 221B, in search 
of a cab. Instead of a hansom, however, 
I beheld a familiar figure g down 
the street tow the glare of the 
lamplight. 


latest outrage?” 
Bernard Shaw cried, without so much as 
shaking hands. “They've pinned the 
whole thing on a Sikh!” 

Sherlock Holmes endeavoured to in- 
form the volatile Irishman that we were 
aware of the turn events had taken, 
but at that moment, Shaw recognized 
Hopkins and turned upon that unfortu- 
natc young man the full force of his 
sarcastic vitriol, 


“Eddie! Folk heroes! Your report is supposed 
to be on folk heroes!" 


“Out of uniform, ch?" he commenced. 
“And well you should be if murder is 
being contemplated. 1 wonder you've the 
face to appear in public at all with your 
hands so red! Do you seriously believe, 
Sergeant, that the British public, which I 
Ice is gullible beyond credence, is going 
to swallow this particular connivance? It 
won't go down. believe me, Sergeant, it 
won't. It's too big to pass the widest ch: 
of credibility. This isn't France, you'd do 
well to remember. You can't divert our 
attention with a xenophobic charade!” 
waited for our cab, did 
Hopkins attempt to stem the tidal wave of 
rhetoric. He pointed out that 
he who had arrested the Indian. 

"So!" the other eagerly seized the oppor- 
tunity for a lit nalogy. "You wash 
your hands with Pilate, hey? I wonder 
there's room at the trough for so many of 
you, lined up alongside with your dirty 
fingers. If you suppose. 

“My dear Shaw," Holmes remonsuated 
forcefully, “I don't know how you са 
have learned of Mr. Singh's arrest—the 
newsboys are hawking it, very likely— 
but if you have nothing better to do th 
rouse mine honest neighbours at a quarter 
past twelve, I suggest you come along with 
us. Cab!” 

Where to?" Sh demanded as the cab 
pulled up before us. His voice lacked any 
trace of contrition. 

The mortuary. Someone appears to 
have made off with our two corpses.” 


was not 


“Made off with them?" he echoed, get- 
g in. This intelligence succeeded in 
doing what Sergeant Hopkins could not 
and the critic fell into a revery as he tried 
its significance. His shrill 
s were reduced to a stream 
ags inside the cab as we thread- 

ed our way to the mews behind the mor- 
tuary laboratory. A block or so before the 
place, Holmes ordered the driver to stop 
nd we descended from the cab. In 
hushed tones, the cabby was instructed to 
wait where he was until we should return. 
‘There was no one about as we entered 
the mews, though the voices of the ostlers 
were audible from the police stables 
across the way. We proceeded cautiously 
on foot, our path being lit by the yellow 
lights of windows overhead, Sergeant 


Hopkins looked fearfully about as we ad- 
vanced, for obvious reasons more appre- 


hensive about discovery than ourselves. 

“This door leads to the laborator 
Holmes enquired sofily, pointing to a 
large, wooden, portcullislike affair, whose 
base was some four feet off the ground. 
Hopkins nodded, stealing an anxi 
glance over his shoulder. 

"You сап sec the wheel ma 
the wagon was backed up to 
detective knelt апа indicated Ше twin 
tracks, plainly visible in the meagre light 
from above. "Of course, the police have 
examined it,” he added with ry sigh, 
pointing to all the footprints running in 
every direction all round the place. 

“It looks as if they danced a Highland 


183 


PLAYBOY 


184 


I commented, sharing his 


He grunted and followed the wheel 
marks out of the dirt to where they dis 
appeared on the cobblestones. 

“Не went left, that's all we he 
reported gloomily, returning to the door, 
where we waited. "Once he departed the 
mews, there's no telling where he was 
bound.” 

“Perhaps we should fetch Tob: 
suggested. 

“We haven't the time to go to Lambeth 
1 back, and besides, what could we 
offer him as a scent? He's not as young as 
he used to be, you know, and the stench 
of carbolic would be insufficient. Blast! 
Every second gives this thing—whatever 
it is—more time to spread. Hullo, what's 
this 

He had been speaking bent over and 
almost touching the ground as he inspect- 
ed it inch by inch. Now he dropped to 
his knees once again, directly beneath the 
boratory door, and rose with something 
held gingerly in his right hand. 

“The noose round Achmet Singh's neck 
s to loosen, or I am much deceived.” 
Shaw enquired, stepping 


I 


“Because if the prosecution contends 
that the Sikh smoked these Indian che- 
roots, they will be hard put to explain the 
presence of this one outside the mortuary 
laboratory whilst Singh himself was 
cerated in a private security cell at White- 
hall.” 

“Are you certain й is the same ci 
I hazarded, not wishing to que 
abilities and yet, for the sake of the pris- 
oner, feeling obliged to do so. 
Quite sure,” he returned, 
seeming to take umbrage. "I took great 
pains to recognize it should I ever see one 


like it again. It’s in an excellent state of 
preservation, as you can see. Notice the 
distinctive squaretipped ends. Our man 


aside when the other 


simply threw it 
opened the laboratory door for 
"The other?” 
Holmes turned to Hopkins. “I take it 
Mr. Brownlow did not smoke Indian 


“һе youth replied. “In 
my knowledge, he did not smoke i 

"Excellent. Then there was another 
man here and it is that other man who 
concerns us. Brownlow was not talking to 
himself but conversing with our quarry.” 

"But what of Mr. Brownlow?” Hop- 
kins demanded, his honest features re- 
vealing his perplexity. 

“Hopkins,” the detective put a hand 
upon his shoulder, "the time has come for 
s to part company. Your position here 
becomes increasingly de this night 
progresses. If you will be guided by me, 
1 suggest that for your own good you go 
home and get a good night's rest. Say 
nothing of what you have seen and heard 
here tonight to anyone, and I, for my part, 
will endeavour to keep your name out 


of it—unles, of course, Achmet Singh 
comes to the foot of the gallows, at which 
point I will have no alternative but to 
take drastic steps." 

Hopkins wavered, torn between his own 
curiosity and his sense of discretion. “Will 
you tell me what you find, at least?" he 
plored. 

m afraid 1 cannot promise that I 


The sergeant hesitated а moment or so 
longer and then departed with evident 
reluctance, his personal impulses out- 
ighed by the obligations of loyalty he 
elt he owed his superior 

“A bright young fellow, that," Holmes 
observed when he had gone. "And now, 
Watson, every minute counts. Whom do 
you know able to tell us about tropical 
diseases? 
istree! is generally regarded as the 
est living authority on the subject 
I replied, “but he is in the West Indies, 
at present, if Lam not mistaken. 

"What have tropical diseases to do 
with this?” Shaw demanded, raising his 
voice. 

“Let us return to the cab and I shall 
explain, Only keep your voice dow 
like a good fellow. 

“1 think we had best pay a call on Dr. 
Moore Agar of Harley Street,” he re- 
sumed when we had regained the cab. 
“Watson, you've frequently recommend- 
ed him when I was suffering from over- 
work and fatigue.” 

“1 did not envisage your calli 
him after one in the morning," I has- 
tened to point out. ny case, the 
man's not a specialist in tropical 
diseases.” 

No, but he ma 
to the leading ау, 

“In heavens name.” Shaw exploded 
as the cab rattled off for Harley Street, 
“you still have I why we need a 
specialist in tropical diseases!" 

orgive me, but I hope to make all 
plain before the night is out. All I can 
say at present is th n McCarthy 


i£ upon 


be able to direct us 


and Miss Jessie Rutland were not killed 
to prevent their living but 


ather to 
ble and 


more horr 


prevent their dying 
more dangerous death 

"How cm one death be more dan- 
gerous than another?” Shaw scoffed 
the dark recesses of the cab. 


pose different hazards to those who con- 
ll bodies become sources 
Mection if they are not disposed of, 
yet a body that dies a natural death, or 
stabbed, is less 


disease.” 


“You mean these two were slain vio- 


‘Watson had urged Holmes to consult 
Ainstree in his capacity as tropical 
disease expert in “The Adventure of the 
Dying Detective” (1887). 


lently in order to prevent thei 
the ges of some malady?” 

“Just so. A malady that would have 
le off with them as surely as a bullet, 
given time. Their corpses werc stolen 
from the mortuary laboratory to prevent 
further contagion and we three who were 
most prominently exposed to them were 
forced to imbibe some sort of antidote.” 

“Antidote!” the critic cried out, his 
voice rising an involuntary octave. “Then 
that practical joke outside Simpson’s—" 

Saved our lives, I shouldn't wondi 

“If your theory is correct," Shaw rc- 
turned gruifly. “But what is the malady 
we are speaking об 

“I have no idea and hesitate even to 
make a guess Since all the evidence 
points to someone recently returned 
from India, I take the liberty of postu- 
lating some tropical disorder, but that 
is the best 1 can do with such insufficient 
ta. The bodies were probably stole 
as well to prevent any autopsy from 
revealing. what would have killed the 
had the murderer permitted them to 
live." 

"What of Brownlow, then? Did 
collaborate with Jack Point?" 

"He opened the door to him, that 
much seems certain. The evidence sug- 
gests he had come upon the truth—why 
crub down the laboratory and force 
nts and the stretcher-bearers to 
shower whilst he burned their clothe: 

“Where is he now, then?" 

Holmes hesitated. 

"I very much fear that Mr. Brownlow 
uurderer’s purpose was to 
spreading epidemic, the police 
surgeon, by virtue of his occupat 
more contaminated than any of us.” 

Next to me I could see Holmes's jaw 
tighten and in his expression, 1 beheld 
that which I had never seen before in 
1 the years I 1 known him. I beheld 
fear. 

It was almost two o'clock when the 
cab deposited us belore Dr. Moor 
imposing residence 
marking that our 
likely to be render ag to 
Dr. Agar by our waiting, Holmes pro- 
ceeded up the steps and rang the night 
bell vigorously several times. It took 
some moments before a light appeared 
опе ol the overhead windows, followed 
shortly thereafter by another on the floor 
above. In another few moments, the 
door was opened by the housekeeper. 
an elderly woman, half-asleep. who stood 
upon the threshold in her nightcap and 
dressing gown. 

“I am extremely sorry to disturb you 
the detective informed her briskly, "but 
it is absolutely essential that I speak with 
заг at once. My name is Sherlock 
Holmes.” He handed her his card, 

She gaped at us, her eyes blinking 
away sleep. 

‘Just а moment, sir, please. Won't 
(continued on page 188) 


suffering 


he 


“Man, pajama parties went ou 


186 


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187 


PLAYBOY 


188 assist in а 


THE WEST END HORROR 


you gentlemen step into the hall 
We were obliged to stand there while 
she closed the door and went upon our 
errand. Sherlock Holmes paced furiously 
in the confined space of the vestibule, 
ng at his knuckles. 
It is staring us in the face, I know 
it," he cried in exasperation, "but I cn- 
not fathom it, cannot for the life of me! 
The inner door of the hall opened 
d the housekeeper, somewhat more 
alert now, admitted us and showed us to 
Dr. Moore Agar's consulting room, where 
she turned up the gas and closed the 
door. This time we had not long to 
wait. Almost at once, the doctor himself, 
tall, spare and distinguished, swept into 
ing the belt of his red-silk 
gown but otherwise appearing 
wake. 
Holmes, what is the m 


“Mr 
this? Are you ill?” 
“I trust not. doctor. I have come to 


ng of 


you in a crisis, however, for a piece of in- 
formation upon which the lives of many 
may well depend. Forgive me if I do 
not take time for introductions, though 
I suspect you know already Dr. Watson 
"Tell me what you need to know 
I will try to help vou. 
him without standing on ceremony. If 
he was in any way discomfited by the 
lateness of the hour or perturbed by our 
nounced l he e no out- 
rd sign of 
“Very well. 
leading speciali 
in London 
Tropical diseases?” He frowned, р 
a graceful hand across his mouth as he 
dered the request. “Well, / i 
the man who—' 
“He is not at. present 


need the name of the 
ses here 


suppressed a 
tribute his 


е, the 
y minute is of the utmost urgency. 
Dr. Agar.” 

^I understand. you, sir." He thought a 
moment longer, his blue eyes unblinki 
then suddenly he snapped his fingers. 
comes to me now. There is a 
who might be able t 


‘It 
young man 
sist you. His name 


escapes me, but T can look him up in my 
study and it won't take but a minute. 
Wai 


here. 
He took a picce of paper from his desk 
d disappeared from the office. Holmes 
continued to pace restlessly, like a caged 
animal. 

“Just look at this place,” Shaw growled, 
ng in the plush surroundings with a 
sweep of his small arm. "Fancy bound 
books and gadgets galore! The medi 
profession could easily compete with the 
theatre as a house of illusion if it wanted 
to. Does any of this paraphernalia really 

ing folk of their ailments, or 


(continued from page 181) 


aren't these all a collection of stage props 
designed to impress the patient with the 
jesty and power of the shamar 
If they are cured by illusion, that is no 
less a cure," I protested, whereat he re- 
garded me with a curious stare. I confess 
in 1 was nettled by the fel- 
low's caustic observations, but Holmes, 
seemingly oblivious to the exchange, con- 
tinued to pace about the room. 

У haw went on, "if a man con- 
wacts the plague and goes to see а 
physician about it, by your argument, 


roomful of books and instruments, 
such as thi 

“Plague!” 

Holmes spun round, his face dead 


he 
е. 


white, his hands shaking. “Plague, 
repeated in am almost reveren 
“That is what we are dealing with." 
Never had a single word struck such 
terror to the very roots of my soul. 
“Plague?” I repeated fainily, suppress- 
ng a shudder of dr How сап you 
know: 
"Watson, invaluable Watson! You held 
the key in your own hands from the first! 
Do you remember the line you quoted 
from act three, scene one, of Romeo and 
Juliet? А plague on both your houses!" 
He was being literal! And what did they 
do when the plague came to London?” 
“They closed the 
interjected. 
“Precisely 
At that moment, the door opened 
ned, a folded picce of paper 


to 


ad. 


have the name you asked for," he 
informed the detective, holding forth the 
paper. 


know already name it is, 
Holmes responded, taking й. "Ah, you 
have included his address. That is most 
helpful. Ah, yes, before me all the time 
and I was blind to it! Quick, Watsos 
He stuffed the paper in the pocket of his 
Inverness. "Dr. Agar," he grabbed the 
astonished physician's hand and pumped 
it in passing, "a thousand thanks 
tore from the room, leaving us no 
tive but to pursue him. 

The cab was waiting for us as ordered. 
and Holmes leapt in, yelling 10 the 
driver, “Thirty-three Wyndham | Place, 
Marylebone, and don't spare the horse! 
We had barely time to clamber in after 
him before the vehicle was tearing 
through the nocturnal city of London 
with an echoing clatter of hoofbeats. 

“АП the time, all the time" was the 
asistent litany of Sherlock Holmes, iu- 
toned n and we raced 
through the deserted streets on our fateful 
errand. “When you have eliminated the 
impossible, whatever remains, however 
improbable, must be the truth. If ouly I 
had heeded that simple maxim!" he 
groaned. "Watson, you are in the presence 
of the greatest fool in Christendom.” 


“I believe we are in the presence of 
the greatest lunatic," Shaw broke in. 
‘Pull yourself together, man, and tell us 
what's afoot." 

My companion leaned forward, his 
grey eyes flashing like lighthouse beacons 
in the dark. “The game, my dear Shaw! 
The game's afoot and such a quarry as 
I've never been faced with yet! The 
greatest game of my career and should I 
fail to snare it, we may all very well be 
doomed!" 

n you not speak more plainly, 
"s mame? I think I've never 
melodrama outside of the 


heave: 
heard such. 


Haymarket! 
Holmes sat back and looked calmly 
about him. “You don't need to listen to 


me at all, In a very few minutes, you 
all hear it from the lips of the man we 
e seeking—if he is still alive. 

“Still alive? 

“He can't have toyed with the disease 
as much as he has done without succumb- 
ing to it sooner or later. 

“Sometime in the mid-Fo 
tury, three ships carrying s 
Fast put into port in С 
to their cargo, they also carried rats, which 
left the ship and mingled with the city's 
own rodents. Shortly, dead rats began ap- 
pearing in streets everywhere, thousands 
of them. And then the human populace 
‘The symptoms were 
dizziness, headache, sore throat 
hard black boils under the 
around the groin. After the boils, fever, 
shivering, nausea and spitting blood. In 
three days, the victim was dead. Bubonic 
plague. In the next fifty yeas, it killed 
almost half the population of Europe. 
with a mortality rate of ninety percent of 
all it infected. People referred to it as 
the Black Death and k 
s the greatest natural disaster in human 
history.” 

Where did it come fron 
ourselves talking in whispers. 

From China, and from thence to In- 
dia. The Crusaders brought it home with 
them and then the merchants—it de- 
stroyed Europe and then disappeared. as 
suddenly as it erupted.” 

"And never returned? 

“Not for three hundred years. In the 
mid-Seventeenth Century, as Shaw r 
called, they were forced to close the pl 
houses when it reached England. ‘The 
Great Fire of London appeared to have 
ended it then." 

“But it's not been heard from since, 
surely, 
“On the cont 


teenth Ci 
pices from the 
In addition 


We found 


r Watson, it 
nd only as recent 


"In China. It erupted with an old 
vengeance, sprang out of Hong Ко 
and is presently ravaging India, as you 
know from the papers. 

It was difficult, | owned, to associate 
the bubonic plague that one read ol in 


After all Fd heard I decided 
to either quit or smoke True. 


I smoke True. 


Lorillard 1976 а К E 


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"tar", 0.7 mg. nicotino av. per cigarette, FTC Report Nov. 75. 


Warning: The Surgeon General Has Determined ге low ta low nicotine сене, 
That Cigarette Smoking Is Dangerous to Your Health. ` Think about it. 2 


. 189 


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the newspapers with something as primi- 
tively awesome as the Black Death—and 
even more difficult to envisage another on- 
ght of the fatal pestilence here in 
England. 

Nevertheless we are now faci 
possibility,” Sherlock Holmes retu 
'Ah, here we are. Hurry, gentlemen" 
dismissed the cab and dashed up the steps 
of number 33, where we discovered the 
door to be unbolted. 

Cautiously, Holmes pushed open the 
door. Almost at once, our nostrils were 
iled by the most terrible odour. 

"What is it" Shaw gasped, reeling to 
the front step. 

Carbolic in enormous concentrations. 
Cover your noses and mouths, gentlemen. 
son, you haven't your revolver with 
pity. Inside, please.” 
is own hand- 
d, pressing it to his face, moved 
110 the house. 

The lights were off and we dared not 
for fear of disturbing the 
yone should 
have passed a decent night in that pun- 
gent atmosphere 1 could not imagine. 
dually, making our way back along 
the first floor, we became aware of a 
ing, rhythmic sound, rather like the pulse 
of some piece of machinery in need 
n oilcan. 

Instinctively, we made our way towards 
that pumping sound and found ourselves 
in а darkened room, almost on top of it. 

"Come no nearer!” a voice rasped sud- 
denly, very close by. "Mr. Holmes is it? 
I have been waiting for you." I was aware 
of a shrouded figure slumped in a chair 
ext to a desk and lamp across the room, 
by the windows that faced the street. 

“I hoped we would find you in time, 
dv. Benjamin Eccles.” 

Slowly, the figure moved in the dark 
nd. with a groan of effort, managed to 
irn up the gas. 


CHAPTER XV 
JACK POINT 

It was, indeed, the theatre doctor who 
was revealed to us by the faint light of 
the lone lamp. 
But so changed! His body, like that of 
wizened old monkey, sat shrunk in its 
and I should scarcely have recog- 
nized his fice as human, let alone his, 
had Holmes not identified him for us. His 
countenance was withered like a rotten 
apple, covered with hideous black boils 
and pustules that split and poured forth 
bile like dirty tears. The stuff ran dow 
his bumpy face and made it glisten. His 
eyes were so puffed and bloodshot that 
he could hardly open them—the whites 
rolled horribly round, glimpsed beneath 
the lids; his lips were cracked and parched 
and split with bleeding sores. With a chill 
shock shooting through my bones, I real- 
ized that the rasping, pumplike sound we 
had been listening to was his own la- 


c 


192 boured breath, wheczing like the wind 


through a pipe organ—and the know 
edge told me that Dr. Eccles had not an- 
other hour to li 

"Come no nearer!” the apparition re- 
peated in a husky whisper. "I am going 
fast and must be left alone until 1 do. 
Afterwards, you must burn this room and 
everything in it, espedally my corpse— 
I've written it down here, in сазе you 
came too Iate—but whatever you do, do 
not touch the corpse! Do you understand? 
Do not touch it!" he aoaked, “The dis 
ease is transmitted by contact with the 
flesh!” 

Your inst 
to the lette 
"Is there any way we can mı 
comfortable: 

‘The putrescent mass shook slowly from 
side to side, a black, swollen tongue loll- 
ng loosely from what had once been a 
mouth, 

“There is nothing you can do for me 
and nothing I deserve. 1 am dying of my 
own folly and merit all the pain my 
wickedness has brought me. But God 
knows J loved her, Mr. Holmes! As sure- 
ly as а man ever loved а woman in th 
world, 1 loved Jessie Rutland, and no 
man since time started was ever forced to 
do for his love what fate made me do for 
He gave a choked sob 
t remained of his miserable 
nd almost carried him off then 
and there. For a full minute, we were 
obliged to listen to his dreadful sounds, 
until at length they subsided. 
am à Catholic," said he, when he 
could speak For obvious reasons, 1 
anot send for a priest. Will you hear 
my confession?” 

"We will hear it,” my companion 
swered gently. "Can you speak: 

"I can. I must!” With a superhuman 


actions shall be carried out 
Holmes answered firmly. 
€ you more 


effort, the creature hoisted himself 
"I was born not 
in Sussex, just over forty 


years ago. My parents were well-to-do 
country folk and though 1 was a second 
son, I was my mother’s favourite and giv- 
en an excellent education. I was at Wir 
chester and then at the University of 
Edinburgh, where I took my medica 
degree. I passed my є 
flying colows and all my professors 
agreed that my strength lay in research. 
T was a young man, however, with a head 
crammed full of adventurous yearnings 
and ideas. I'd spent so much time study- 
ing, I ci tle act before settling 
down to my test tubes and microscope. 
nted to see a litle of life before 1 
immured myself within the cloistered 
walls of a laboratory, so 1 enrolled in the 
Course for army surgeons at Netley. 1 
rived in India in the wak 

апа for fifteen years I led the life I had 
dreamed of, serving under Braddock and 
later Fitzpatrick. I saw action in the Sec- 
ond Afghan War and, cven like yourself, 
Dr. Watson, 1 was at Maiwand. All the 
time, | kept notebooks and recorded 


the things I found in my travels, mainly 
observations on tropical disorders 1 en- 
countered in my capacity as army doc- 
tor—for | was determined, eventually, to 
follow my true calling and take up 
research." 

He stopped here and broke into а 
series of heaving coughs again, spitting 
some blood upon the carpet. There was 
some water in a glass and a carafe just 
out of reach on the table beside him and. 
w made to move it nearer. 

“Back, fool!” he gasped. “Can you not 
understand?” With an effort of will. he 
seized the glass and greedily gulped down 
its contents, the water gurgling though 
his distended intestines so that all could 
hear it. 

"Five years ago, I left the army and 
sewed in Bombay to pursue research 
at the Hospital for Tropic Diseases there. 
J had by this time married Edith Morstan, 
the niece of a captain in my regiment. 

nd we took a house near my work, pre- 
paring ourselyes for a happy and reward- 
ing future together. I don't know that T 
loved her the way I came to love Jessie. 
but I meant to do right by her as a h 
band and a father and I did it, too, so far 
as it was within my power. Up until that 
time, Mr. Holmes, | was a happy man! 
Life had smiled upon me from the first 
and everything I had touched had turned 
to gold. As a student, as a soldier, as 
surgeon and as a suitor, I always h 
my elforts crowned with success." 
aused, remembering his life, it 
seemed, and something very like a smile 
played upon what remained of his f 
tures and then vanished. 

And then it all ended. As suddenly 
and arbitrarily as though Га been allotted 
a store of good luck and used 
. It happened i 
way. Within two years of my marriage, my 
wile, whose heart condition I had known 
of from the first days of our courtship, 
suffered а stroke that left her little more 
thin a living corpse, unable то speak, 
hear, see or move. It happened like a 
thunderbolt m the blue. I had seen 
men dic in battle or lose their limbs, but. 
never before had 
or mine. There was nothing for it but 
to put her in the nursing home run i 

conjunction with the hospital she who 
only the day before had been my own 
dear gi 

“At first, I visited her every day, but 
seeing that my visits made no impression 
on her and only served 10 rend my own 
heart, I reduced their frequency and fi- 
nally stopped going altogether. satisfy- 
ih weekly reports on her 
condition, which was always the same, no 
better or worse than before. The law pre- 
cluded any question of divorce. In апу 
t ] had no desire to marry aga 
the last thing on my mind as I con- 
tinued my work in the hospital laboratory. 

“For a time, my life took on a new 
routine and I came to assume that I was 


He | 


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PLAYBOY 


194 


finished with disaster. But disaster had 
only begun with me! My father wrote to 
say he was not well, but I hesitated to re- 
turn home, fearing to leave my wife. 
Thus, he died without seeing me again, 
and my elder brother succeeded to his 
estate, After my father's demise, my moth- 
cr wrote, begging me to return, but again 
I refused, saying that I could not leave 
Edith—and soon my mother dicd, her- 
self. I think she died of double grief—my 
father’s death coupled with my refusal to 
come home, 
nd then, last усаг, as if all that had 
gone before it were but a foolish prel- 
ude, a lighthearted glimpse at things to 
come, there came the plague from China, 
It tore through India like a veritable 
scourge of God, sweeping all before it. 
By the millions people died! Oh, I know 
you've read it in the papers, but it was 
quite another thing to be there, gentle- 
men, I assure you! All the Asian sub- 
continent turned into onc vast charnel 
house, with only а comparative handful 
of medical men to sort out the si і 
d fight it. In all my experience 
1 never before beheld the 
It came in two forms—bubon 
nsmitted by rats, and pneumo 
which infects the lungs and is transmitted 
by humans. By virtue of my previous re- 
scarch of infectious discases, 
I was one of the first five physicians 
named to the Plague Board, formed by 
Her Majesty's government to combat the 
epidemic. I was put in charge of investi- 
gations into the pneumonic variety of 
plague and set to work at once. 
In the meantime, the plague raced 
through Bomb self, killing hundreds 
of thousands, but my ill luck stayed with 
me and my wife remained untouched. Do 
not misunderstand me. I did not h her 
i —he gestured feebly to 


to die like thi: 
himsel—"but I knew what a burden her 
life was and 1 prayed for her to be strick- 
en and put out of her misery. May God 
forgive me for that prayer!” he cried 
fervently, 

He paused again, h, 
nd sat there panting and wheezing like 
some ghastly bellows. Then, summoning 
reserves of strength I did not expect re- 
mained in him, he leaned forward, seized 
the carafe and drank from it, holding it 
unsteadily to his face and dribbling much 
water down his chin and onto his open 
collar. When he had done, he let it fall to 
the floor, where the carpet prevented its 
breaking. 

The Plague Board decided to send me 
to England,” he resumed. "Someone h 
10 continue research. while others act 
ly fought the disease. 1 had had some 
slight luck with a tincwure-ofiodine prep- 
ion, provided it was applied within 
twelve hours of exposure, and the board 
wished me to experiment with the possi- 
bilities of vaccination based upon my 
formula, It was decided that the work 
could better be continued in England, as 


time for br 


the ravages of the malady itself severely 
limited facilities and equipment, as well 
as ng it more difficult to ensure ab- 
solute control over the experime 

“This decision was by no 


science with a г 
pestilent place, which contained so n 
bad memories for me, including a wife I 
could neither cure nor destroy. For years, 
I had contemplated abandoning my life 
in India, and. now the legitimate oppor- 
tunity had been afforded me. All due 
precautions were taken and I brought 
samples of pneumonicplague bacillus 
with Saint Bartholomew's Hospital 
here in London, where an emergency 
laboratory was placed at my disposal. I 
continued my investigations with a venge- 
nce, studying the plague, its cause and 
cure, relying heavily on the work of Shi- 
basaburo Kitazato, director of the Im- 
perial Japanese Institute for the Study of 
Infectious Diseases and Alexandre Yer- 
sin. a bacteriologist in Switzerland. Last 
both these men isolated а rod- 
m called 
Pasteurella pestis, vital to the progress of 
my work. 

“I laboured Ic ad hard to integrate 
their findings with my own but found that 
when evenings came, I could stand it no 
longer. My mind was stagnating for lack 
of recreation or other occupation. 1 knew 
virtually no one in London and did not 
care to speak with my brother, so it was 
hard for me. And then I heard of the post 
vacated by Dr. Lewis Spellman, the the: 
te physician on call in the West End, 
who was retiring. I visited Dr. Spellman 
nd ascertained that the work was not 
really difficult and would serve to occupy 
my evenings in a pleasant and diverting 
fashion. I had never known any theatre 
people and the job would certainly pro- 
vide me with some human contact, sadly 
king in my life of late. 

"Upon Dr. Spellman's recommenda- 
tion, I was given the post some months 


ago, and it made a considerable differ- 
ence to my life. The work was scarcely 
exacting and I was seldom called upon 


to treat more than an untimely sore 
throat, though І once had occasion to set 
a fractured arm sulfered by an actor dur- 
ing а fall in a Чис]. All i l, it was a 
distinct contrast to the desperate scarch I 
was engaged upon at Bart's. I would 
If down at the end of every 
using the tincture-of-iodine solution, 
nd eagerly proceed upon my theatrical 
founds. When I had finished my tour of 
n evening, 1 returned here to my lodg- 
ngs, pleasantly enervated and mentally 
refreshed. 

“It was in this way that I came to 
meet Jessie Rutland. It had been years 
sincc I had thought". of a woman, and it 
was only by degrees that I noticed and 
became attracted to her. In our con- 
versations, I made no mention of my 
wife or her condition, as the subject 


never came up. Later, when it was rele- 
vant, I feared to tell her of i 

“That was the beginning, gentlemen. 
All was perfecily correct between us, for 
we had not acknowledged the depth of 
our feelings and were both aware of the 
rules governing contact between the sexes 
at the Savoy. 

“Yet slowly we came to love each oth- 
cr, Mr. Holmes. She was the sweetest, 
most generous creature under а bonne 
with the most loving and tender dispo- 
sition. I saw in her love the chance of 
my soul's salvation. It was then that I 
told her of my marriage. It caused me 
agony for weeks beforehand, but I de- 
cided I had no right to keep the facts 
from someone I loved as dearly as her 
and so made a clean breast of it.' 

He stopped to catch his breath, the 
whites of his eyes winking madly at us, 
rolling about in their sockets. 

"She was very distraught at first, and. 
I thought my first conclusions had been 
right all along. For three days, she re- 
fused to speak with me, and during th: 
time, I thought I must become lunati 
I was ready to do away with myself, 
when she relented and told me that she 
loved me still. I cannot tell you into 
what transports of joy that knowledge 
put me. I felt there were no obstacles 
that could not be overcome, nothing I 
could not accomplish with her at my 
side and her love in my heart! 

“But fate had not yet done with me. 
And, as it had done in the past, it struck 
t me not directly but through the wom- 
an 1 loved. A тапап ogre, I should 
Jessie without шу 
id told her he knew of 
our intrigue. He had made enquiries 
of his own and told her he knew I was 
married. He twisted our love into some- 
thing sordid and terrifying. His whi 
pers were without shame and without 
remorse—and she succumbed to them. 
She acted partly for my sake as well as 
for her own in submitting to his lecherous 
fancy, for he yed upon her fea 
that respect, and she told me nothing of 
what she had done, lest she compromise 
us both and add my ruin to her own. 

“But she couldy't keep secret her emo- 
ns, Mr. Holmes. That intuitive bond 
that exists between two people in love 
had already sprung up between us and, 
without knowing what had happened, 
I knew something was wrong. With 
many sighs and tears, I pried the tale 
of her humiliation from her, promising 
beforehand that whatever I h 
would take no action. 

“But it was no use my making such a 
promise! What she told me was too mor 
strous to be believed, let alone endured. 
There was something so incredible about 
such casual, yet total malevolence that I 
had to see it for myself. 

“I went to his house and spoke with 
He paused, coughing slightly and 
was left of his head. “I had 


IL, 


Hp 


7, 


NS 
3 


2 


Z7 
Е 


“Tm afraid we'll have no chance of curing your husband until 


195 


we find out why he changed into a banana. 


PLAYBOY 


196 ping at the theatres and restau 


never met such а man in all my travels. 
When I confronted him with his shamc- 
ful deed, he laughed! Yes, laughed to 
hear me throw it to his face and said 1 
didn't know much about the ways of the 
theatre! T was so taken aback by the co- 
losal effrontery of the thing that I 
found myself pleading with him, yes, 
begging him to return to me my life, my 
world. And still he laughed and patted 
jovially on the shoulder, saying 1 
а good fellow but warning me to 
у clear of actresses as he escorted me 
10 the door of his flat! 

or the entire night, ] walked the 
streets of London. venturing into places 
I didn't know then and couldn't name 
now as I forced myself to digest my own 
ion. During that interminable 
something snapped in my mind 
and 1 became mad. Tt was as though all 
my ill Juck had resolved itself into one 
crystalline shape and that shape be- 
longed to Jonathan McCarthy. On hi 
shoulders. Î heaped my catalogue of mis- 
fortune and travail—my wife's illness, 
my parents’ deaths, the plague itself and, 
finally, that for which he was truly re- 
sponsible, the debauch of the woman 
I loved. She who was all in the world 
that was left to me, To picture her in 
the arms of that bearded Lucifer w 
more than flesh and blood could bear, 
and a horrible thought came to me i 
the сапу hours of that morning as I 
stumbled about the city. It had all the 
perverse logic of the truly insane. If 
Jonathan McCarthy were Lucifer, why 
should not 1 let him wrestle with the 
scourge of God? 1 chuckled madly at ihe 
notion. Gone were thoughts of science, 
responsibility, my work: the implic 
tions of my fantasies, even, did not ex 
All my thews and sinews were bent upon 


vengeance—horrible and terrible retr 
ution that knew neither reason nor 
restraint. 


“It scarcely matters how I did it: what 
tters is that 1 exposed Jonathan Me 
Carthy to pneumonic plague. [ know 
how you аге looking at me now; 1 know 
full well what you must think of me, 
gendemen—and, in fact, as the hours 
icked by, afterwards, I came to share 
your opinion of the deed. No man was 
worthy of such a death, in addition to 
which, having come to my senses, it was 
now borne in upon me with a rush the 
full import of what I had done. The 
terrible forci 1 had unleashed must 
be contained before they could wreak 
havoc on a scale unknown in modern 
time. All England, possibly all of west- 
ern Europe, had been threatened by my 
folly. 

"My conversion to sanity lasted rough- 
ly twelve hours. At the end of that time, 
I rushed to McCarthy's flat to warn him 
of his danger and do what I could for 
him—but he was not there. In vain I 
searched all London for the man, stop- 
nts I 


knew were frequented by members of 
the literary profession. None had secn 
him. 1 left a message at his flat, finally, 
and he sent word that he would see me 
that night. T had no choice but to wait 
for e every hour took him 
further and further from my power to 
save him and increased the danger to the 
world. My tincture-ofiodine solution T 
had now perfected for induction by 
mouth, but it still depended on being 
administered. within the first twelve 
hours. 
1 found him at home that evening, as 
he had promised to be, and in halting 
but urgent sentences, I told him what I 
had done. 
He began to cough again and spat 
great. quantities of blood as we watched, 
our handkerchiefs still pressed to our 
mouths and noses to avoid the stench 
of carbolic and. putrefaction, our minds 
numb with horror. He fell back in his 
chair, exhausted, when he had done, 
his breath coming more painfully now at 
inhalation. Were it not for the 


noise he made breathing, we should have 
thought him dead. 

When next he spoke. his words were 
slurred, as though he couldn't form them 
with 


the muscles remaining at his 


ed at me, again! Oh, he 
knew what my real work was, but he 
didn't think me capable of such an a 
tion. Jack Point he called me and 
laughed when I tried to make him swal- 
low my tincture-of-iedine solution with 
a little brandy. ‘If I am infected,’ he 
chuckled, ‘you must be sure and call 
upon Miss Rutland with your potion! 
She'll be in a worse way by far” He 
laughed again, long and hard this time. 
until I knew and understood why I had 
been unable to find him for the 
twelve hours; and when I did compre 
hend, comprehend that my actions and 
had doomed all three of us—and per- 
haps millions, besides!—I seized a letter 
opener from his desk and stabbed h 
with it” 

He sighed with a noise like Кеше 
drums and I knew the sands of his clock 
were running quickly out. 
rom then on, events unfolded with 
the inevitable precision of a machine 
built to destroy itself. Jessie was doomed. 
My antidote would по eflect by 
this time. The only question was whether 
1 could pi nt her suffering. I waited 
for her in her dressing room and sent 
her to heaven when she walked into my 
arms. I did it as painlessly as 1 could"— 
real tears were rolling down his checks 
now, in addition to the pus—"and then 
walked round to the front of the theatre 
and entered as though on my ехе 
rounds. Stunned, as though that was, in 
act, the truth, 1 performed an autopsy 
on the woman 1 had just slain, while the 
bloodstained scalpel nestled in my bag 
under all your noses.” 


He covered his face with swollen 
k hands that now resembled claws, 
and scemed unable to continue, over- 
come not only by the ravages of his dis- 
case but by his own emotions. 

Sensing this, Sherlock Holmes spoke 
quietly. “If you find it difficult to talk, 
doctor, perhaps you will allow me to take 
up the story as ] understand it, You 
have only to say yes or no, or merely 
shake your head if you prefer. Is that 
agreeable to you?" 

"Yes. 

“Very well." Holmes spoke slowly and 


distinctly, so that he might hear and un- 
derstand every word before responding. 


“When you came through the theatre to 
perform your autopsy. you discovered 
Dr. Watson and myself already at the 
dressing room. exposing ourselves to 
contamination. From our presence there, 
you could not but infer that we were al- 
volved with the case. 


Mr. 
stayed outside the dressing 


Gilbert and Mr. D'Oyly Carte 


oom dur 


they ran no 


ion; hence 
k, but Watson and myself, as well as 
you, were now in danger. You heard me 
say we were going to Simpson's and you 
followed us there, waiting for us out 
side with your antidote.” 

уш 

“While watching us through the win- 
dow, you perceived that we were joined 
by a third gentleman’—he gestured to 
Shaw, but. Eccles! eyes, closed now, could 
not see him—"and, wishing to take no 

you gave him the antidote to 

drink, as well, as we left the restaurant, 
happily one by one, which simplified 
your task. 

"Yes. 1 didn't wish to kill anybody.” 

“Anybody «е, you mean," the dercc 


"Then you sent a note, warning us out 
ofthe 

"I didn't know how else to мор you,” 
Eccles gasped. struggling to open his eyes 
and face his confesor. "There was noth- 
ig for it but to threaten, I would never 
ave done anything," 
“As Jong as we didn 
the plague. For those 
who did, you һай no choic 

"No choice. His job killed him, for I 
knew he must discover my secret. На 
been a doctor in the army, 1 knew that 
only the coroner would have direct con- 
tact with the corpse of a murdered man 
and so counted on him to deal with his 
assistants and stretcher-bearers. Certainly, 
1 could never have managed to deal with 
them all. But he seuled my mind on that 
we scrubbed down the 


expose ourselves 


hen you left together? 
He nodded, his head. mov 
drugged man's 
T knew when he recognized the symp- 
toms he would dismiss the others and 


\ V HAT A TRIP Гуе been bellhoppin’ part-time about a year now, and I never saw 
a guest roll up on a motorcycle before. It blew me out because he was ridin’ what I've 
been wantin' to buy—a new KZ900. And, man, that bike really looked classy, like it 
belonged right out front. 


Anyway, І got to the curb about ten steps ahead of the other guys and said, "Wel- 
come, let me take your things and how do ya like your bike?" 

"Super," he said. And all the way up to his room | asked him everything I could 
think of. Is the KZ900 the same as a Z-1? (Yes and better.) What'sit got new on it? (New 
set of matched carbs, audible turn signals, safety flashers, cushier seat— those kinds of 
nifty touches.) What's the engine like? (You can't do better than the Z's 903cc DOHC 
Four) Where's he been? (Touring half way across the country.) 

Then I stalled around, showing him how to open the curtains and turn on the 
lights, so I could ask more questions. Like, what was the best time he's had so far? (On 
the bike, having no place to go and lots of time to get there; off the bike, in Santa Cruz 
with a very together lady named Linda.) 

And after we talked about performance—I mean the bike’s—I figured I'd better 
split. And goin’ down the elevator, | decided when I buy a KZ900, — : 
somebody’s gunna carry my things intoa place like this, and Kawasaki 
he’s gettin’ two bucks like I did. I mean, that's class. lets the good times roll. 


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“It moved! The earth moved!” 


make them scrub. That left only him. 
well. I had 
to turn into tl 
gestured feebly with a talon to himself. 
“I went round to the back of the labora- 
tory and spoke to him through the door, 
telling him that I knew of his predi 
ment and could help him.” 

“You helped him to his Maker." 

The other did not move but sat like 
a grotesque statue of mouldy clay. Sud 
denly, he began to sob and choke and 
scream all at once, struggling to ri 
Irom his ch ad clutching wildly at 
abdome! 
‘Oh, God have mercy on their souls!” 
He opened his mouth again, wanting to 
say more, but sank slowly to the floor 
a crumpled heap. There was silence 
1 the room as the light of dawn began 
to filter through the curtains, as though 
to dispel the end of a nightmare. 

"He prayed for them." Shaw 
mured, the handkerchief still pressed to 
his The hw race surprises me 
sometimes in a way that confounds my 
philosophy." He spoke in an unsteady 
voice and leaned against the doorframe 
of the room. as though about to faint. 

“In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus 
Sancti,” said Sherlock ‘Holmes, drawing 
the sign of the cross in the foetid air. 
“Has anyone a match 

And so it was that in the carly/morn- 
ing hours of March 3, 1895, а fire broke 


mur- 


198 out at 33 Wyndham Place, Marylebone, 


ed with the rosy-red and gold- 
tongued flames of dawn. By the time 
the fire brigades reached the spot, the 
house was almost consumed and the body 
of the lone occupant was found burned 
beyond all possible recognition or pres- 
cation. Sherlock Holmes had poured 
Kerosene over it before we walked out 
the door and into the new day. 


EPILOGUE 
Singh walked across the п 
his cell towards Sherlock 
t him from behind 


Ац 
row confi 


They tell me I am free.” 
And so you are. 
You have done this?" 

The t you free, Achmet 
Singh. There is some concern for it yet 
in this reeling world. 
And Miss Rutland's kille 
“God has punished him more harshly 
п any jury would have done. 

“I see.” The Sikh hesitated, indecisive, 
and then, with a mighty sob, fell upon 
his knees, seized the detective's hand and 
kissed it. 

"You, Sherlock Holmes—breaker of 
my shackles—from my heart's depths, I 
thank you!” 

Indeed, he had much for which to be 
grateful, though he would never know 
how much. Securing his release from 
prison, and having the charges against 
him dropped, was one of the more di 
ficult feats of Sherlock Holmes's long 


th: 


d surprising career. He was obliged 
to make Inspector Lestrade appear ri- 
diculous in public—something he was 
at pains never to do—and he did it with 
the full knowledge and cooperation of 
the inspector, first swearing him to 
secrecy and then divulging the entire 
truth behind the dosed doors of the 
чег осе. They sat closeted together 
for over an hour while the detective ex- 
ions of what had 
ad the need to prevent the 
from becoming generally known, 
lest the pa that would inevitably 
follow prove wor n the plague it- 
self. The detect ged to suppress 
all reference to Sergeant Hopkins’ noc- 
turnal initiative and his superior, pre- 
occupied with the meat of the case, never 
ned 
of Mr. Brownlow's disappearance with 
the corpses before knowledge of it was 
made publi 


truth 


thought to ask how Holmes had le: 


we spent an anxious wee! 
Benjamin Eccles had 
accomplished. mission and truly 
managed to murder everyone who had 
cted pneumonic plague and to 
dispose of the bodies. There was some 
question as to the health of the Savoy 
chorus and both Gilbert and D'Oyly 
Care were ordered to have intensive 
medical examinations, which, 
led to reveal a trace of the disca 

Be ^ as most people know, 
continued working as a critic but re- 
to his promise and kept 
ys until they made him rich 
nd famous. His curious attitude towards 
ocial relorm and personal wealth per- 
sted as long as we knew him. He and 
the detective remained eccentric friends 
to the last. They saw each other less as 
Shaw in demand, but they 
maintained a lively correspondence, some 
of which is in my possession a h 
indudes following exchange of 
telegrams: 


w morc 


I whi 


s 
ше 


TO SHEKLOCK HOLMES: 
ENCLOSED PLEA! WO TICKETS 
TO OPENING NIGHT OF MY NEW 

A "BRING FRIEND 

IF YOU HAVE OXE. 


TO BERNARD SHAW 
UNABLE TO ATTEND OPENING NIGHT 
OF “PYGMALION.” WILL. ATTEND, 
SECOND NIGHT IF YOU HAVE ONE. 

'OLMES 


Holmes and I returned to Baker Street 
later that day as though we'd just come 
back from the moon, so long 
bcen gone and so singular had been our 
experiences while away. The last few 
days had scemed like aeons. 

For a day or so, we sat round our 
rooms like automatons, unable, I think, 


to fully digest the terrible events in 
which we had taken part. And then, bit 
by bit, we fell into our old ways. Another 
storm blew silently outside our windows 
and Holmes found himself again im 
mersed in his chemical experiments: and, 
fi cient Е 
charters were once more in his 

It was a month Liter when he threw 


ly. his notes on 


down the paper at breakfast one morn 
ing and looked at me across the table 

“We must definitely go to Cambridge, 
Watson. or 1 shall not accomplish 
thing constructive by my research. How 
does tomorrow strike you?” 

He 
me to the colfee and paper, where 1 
discovered his motive for leaving town 
so abruptly 

Speculation was rife that Oscar Wilde 
would shortly be charged with offences 
under the Criminal Law Amendment 
Act of 1885. 

The subject of Wilde brought back 
memories of our adventure the previous 
month and I followed Holmes into his 
room. the paper in my hand and а ques 
tion that had never occurred to me on 
my lips 

"Holmes, there is something that puz- 
Дез me about Dr. Benjamin Eccle 

ЗА great deal, T shouldn't wor 


ny- 


ked imo his bedroom, leaving 


ler. He 
was a complicated individual. As 1 have 
said before. Watson, a doctor is the first 
He has brains and he has 
should he саге to pervert 
great potential for mis- 


either, there 
chief, Will you hand me that brown tic? 
Thank you.” 

Why, then, did he allow himself 10 


die?” | asked. “Had he taken his own 
antidote with the zeal with which he 
pressed it on others, he might have sur 
vived. 

My com; 


ion paused before replying, 
taking a coal from the fire and lighting 
his pipe with it 

"We shall probably never know the 
truth, Watson. It may be that he had 
taken the potion before and in so doing 
had exhausted its curative properties. Or 
it may be that he had no wish to live 
ple are not only murderers but 
ud their own execution 
ad in those capacities they 


s. juries 
ers, as well. 
mete out pu 
than their fellow creatures could devise.” 
He rose from a hootlace. “Do you think 
it too early in the day for a glass of 
sh 


hmenis Dur more severe 


rry anda biscuit?’ 


Wilde was charged on April 6, 1895 
His first trial ended in a hung jury on 
May first. On May 20, а second trial was 
held and on May 25, 1895, Wilde was 
found guilty and sentenced lo two years 


imprisonment with hard labour 


This is the second and final install- 
ment of a condensed version of “The 
West End Horror." 


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>| | CRIES OF CONSPIRACY 


(continued from page 132) 
though three expended cartridges were 
found, one casing was dented at the neck 

a way occurring commonly when dry- 
ng a weapon. It is conceivable that 
Oswald took the rifle to the Depository 
with an empty hull in the chamber and 
a dip containing three live rounds in 
the maga: ince one live round was 
in the rifle when it was discovered, that 
would mean only two shots were fired 
from the window, both hitting their 
mark, one maybe going on to Connally. 
Interestingly, no other ammunition for 
the rifle was found among Oswald's 
Possessions. 

The 6.5mm Mannlicher-Ca 
in the Depository (at first mistakenly iden- 
tified as а 7.65mm Mauser, an error that 
fucled suspicions about a conspiracy, 
since it suggested two wcapons) was di- 
rectly tied to Oswald by only one palm 
print, lifted from the underside of the 
barrel, under the stock's wooden fore- 
piece. No usable prints were found on 
the cartridge cases. Thus, the assumption 
that Oswald used the rifle that day rests 
as much on his ability and opportunity 
as on the weapon itself, Was Oswald a 
good enough Certainly, for а 
trained marksm: the distance was not 
great—about 175 feet when the Presi- 
dent's limousine first came from behind 
the oak пее. Through the scope, it 
would Jook no more than 50 feet. Oswald 
had been uained by the Marine Corps, 
which boasts of producing the finest 
marksmen in the world (Charles Whit 
man, the “Texas tower sniper,” was one 
such). Lee qualified as a sharpshooter 
with the M-1, though later he dropped 
to the lowest end of the Marksman scale. 
Nelson Delgado, a Marine buddy, tes- 
tified that he was a very poor shot. A 
stronger malediction came from a strange 


‘cano found 


shot? 


quarter. In February 1964, a Russian 
K.G.B. agent named Yuri Nosenko 


abruptly defected. One of his statements 
concemed Oswald, who, Nosenko said, 
while living in Russia was such a bad 
shot that when he went hunting. some- 
body had to go along to provide him 
with game. Nosenko also assured the 
CIA that Oswald was not а Russian 
agent, a possibility that Oswald's own 
defection to Russia and his espousement 
of left-wing causes since his return had 
h Lyndon R. John- 
son, who feared he w 
President by virtue of a Communist 
conspiracy (L.B.J. also feared a nuclear 
war should Oswald turn out to be a 
Russian spook). Exactly why Nosenko 
defected when he did is unknown, a 
though from a Soviet viewpoint he went 
at an opportune time, just after Ken- 
nedy's death, bearing assurances that the 
K.G.B. had nothing to do with it. Any- 
way, the verdict is mixed on Oswald's 


marksmanship prior to the Kennedy kill- 
ing. Certainly he was a trained shooter 
at distances of up to 500 yards. An addi- 
tional aid to his speed and aim, if he 
was in that window, might have been 
simple adrenaline. Could he have fired 
the weapon three times within six sec- 
oids? In tests run for the Warren Com- 
investigation, three National 
Rifle Association masters shot Oswald's 
weapon at stationary targets positioned 
at distances corresponding to Zapruder 
frames number 210 (175 feet), about 
number 252 (240 feet) and number 313 
(265 fect). These experts even with the 
ferior le succeeded two of six times 
in getting off three shots in less than six 
seconds. They hit the first and third 
targets consistently but often missed the 
second, because the aiming movement 
from first to second target required a 
change of firing position. In 1967, CBS 
News, as part of its first “inquiry” into 
the Kennedy assassination, had a tower 
id a ramp constructed, complete with 
moving silhouette, to simulate the heights 
and distances between the Presidential 
limousine and the Depository window. 
Marksmen in those tests, conducted with 
a rifle like Oswald's and ours, could 
get the three shots off in time, and 
several hit the silhouctte two or three 
times. Almost half of the tests, though, 
were invalidated because the rifle mal- 
functioned. In our own tests conducted 
with a Mannlicher-Carcano of the same 
type used by Oswald, malfunctions (either 
jamming or misfires) occurred more than 
50 percent of the time. In sum, all we can 
suppose is that if Oswald had a good day 
and the rifle was working, he could haye 
made the shots. We can suppose, too, that 
the bullet fragments, and the magic bullet, 
came from the Maunlicher-Carcano. Two 
good-sized fragments, one from a bulle 
nose and another from a base, were re- 
covered from the limousine. Several oth- 
er tiny pieces were retrieved from the 
automobile and. Connally's wrist (X rays 
showed more minuscule pieces in Ken- 
nedy's skull and in Connallys femur 
and chest). These fragments, the nearly 
pristine bullet found at Parkland and 
the cartridge cases were said by the FBI 
to have been fired from the Mannlicher- 
Carcano. Specuography revealed. only 
that the slugs had similar metallic compo- 


pany of similar materials. Even these 
facts have been questioned by critics of 
the FBI investigation (the Warren Com- 
mission had no investigativ 
was forced to rely on Hoover's men). One 
asks why tests were not done to see if the 
magic bullet went through human tissue, 
both Kennedy's and Connallys. Or if 
conclu nalyses 
were done, for example, on Kennedy 
shirt and coat, through which the magic 
bullet supposedly passed, to deter- 
mine if metallic residues found on the 


ve neutron-activation 


back of the garment marked that passage 
all the way through and, if so, whether 
the residue was identical in elemental 
composition with the bullet. Similarly, the 
spectrographic tests linking | Connally's 
wrist fragments with the wondrous bullet 
were challenged in another book by Weis- 
berg, Post Mortem. 

Was Oswald on the sixth floor 
have access to the window? 
ssion's witness on that crucial point 
was Charles worker in the De- 
pository who said he saw Oswald about 
noon November 22, walking from the 
southeast corner of the sixth floor toward 
the freight elevators that are on the build- 
ings north side. Surely such testimony 
would be beyond debate, were it not for 
the fact that Givens first told the FBI 
that he had seen Oswald on the first floor 
before the shooting—a story he stuck to 
until April 1964, when intensi 
gation by com 
brought forth the new version. Also, since 
Weisberg obtained documents showing 
that Mrs. К. E. Arnold, a secretary at the 
Depository, told the FBI she thought she 
might have caught a glimpse of Oswald 
on the first floor around 12:25, Give 
revised testimony is questionable. 

Gan it be proved that Oswald w 
the sixth floor, in or near that window? 
Three eyewitnesses—Brennan, Euins and 
an Arnold Rowland—had good long 

ws of a man with a gun there. But 
eyewitnesses are frequently mistaken. 
Predictably, such witnesses offered con 
tradictory stori to just which 
floor the gunman was on, how tall he 
was, how long the rille was, even as to 
whether he was alone. Rowland, for 
example, later told the FBI and the com- 
mission he'd seen two men, a rilleman in 
a southwest window and an elderly black 
man in the southeast (three black men 
did watch the motorcade from the filth 
floor below the nest and after the shoot- 
ing pointed up at the southeast window 
above them). Another witness, Mrs. Garo- 
lyn Walther, whom the commission nev- 


and 


on 


er called to testify directly, said she siw 
the gunman and, beside him, another 
man with a shorter weapon, but they 
were on a floor lower than the sixth, This 


ed for proof. For a time 
it seemed that photography would pro- 
- Twenty-two photogra- 
phers stood in Dealey Plaza with film in 
their cameras that might be invaluable 
in solving the murder. Опе Robert 
Hughes, who stood a block away from 
the motorcade shooting an 8mm movie. 
As the fateful turn onto Elm Street 
began, Hughes's camera recorded the 
southeast window of the Depository. 
Could close examination of those frames 
reveal how mi waited in ambush? 
Опе answer came in the recent CBS г 

quiry into the killing. Computer studi 
of the shape, contrast and depth of the 


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PLAYBOY 


202 


THE CUBAN 
CONNECTION 


Just as we were going to press, 
we were presented with the first plau- 
sible motive we'd heard for the kill- 
ing of John Kennedy. It came in 
the form of a book by Robert D. 
Morrow, Betrayal (Henry Regnery). 
It seems Morrow (ап electronics 
engineer), ап artist and Mario 

ia Kohly (a prominent Cu 

exile who was head of the Cuban 
government in exile) conspired 
in 1962 to ruin Cuba's cconomy by 
flooding it with $50,000,000 in 
phony pesos. That was the only 
way they could accomplish what 
Ke 

America from communism. 

ing to the story, Kennedy learned 
about the plot and had them busted 
alter they'd worked on their scheme 
for over a year. Clay Shaw, who 
was also in on the deal, was infuri- 
ated and decided Kennedy had to 
be killed. In the conspiracy that 
evolves from this, we have Jack 
Ruby, Lee Harvey Oswald, David 
Ferrie and indirectly Officer Tippit, 
and Morrow, who buys three 
Mannlicher-Carcanos for firing 


teams in Dealey Plaza. 
Then our research turned up a 


New York Times story of October 
3, 1963, in which Morrow, Kohly 
and others actually were busted in 
possession of “excellent” plates and 
large sums of counterfeit Castro 
pesos. When Morrow told us that 
he had “shocking” evidence, in- 
cluding a film of a man who was a 
dead ringer for Oswald training at 
a paramilitary camp on Lake Pont- 
chartrain, we went to view it. 
However, Morrow's film showed 
no one who looked remotely like 
Oswald. He had no documents or 
photos linking Tippit, Oswald, Ru- 
by, Ferrie, Shaw and himself{—or 
any combination thercof. Though 
Morrow cl 1 the book to have 
pated in adventures with 
Ferrie, he was unable to describe the 
man accurately. In addition to Mor- 
’s wildly imaginative reconstruc 
tion of events leading up to thc 
assassination, a deathbed tape of 
Kohly, which we heard, has the Cu 
ban saying that Gastro had Kenne- 
dy killed, in direct contradiction of 
Morrow's claim that his men had 
done it. ("He was just wrong," 
Morrow explained.) Presumably as 
wrong as Morrow's many fudged 
dates and simple misstatements of 
a set of facts that have become the 
foundation for the conspiratorial 
superstructure 


tiny images (a fraction of a small frame, 
taken 100 yards away) by the Itek Cor- 
poration showed yes, there was move- 
ment (hence the gunman) and no, there 
was no other human being there. But 
Ttek's findings generated skepticism. Itek 
has as its president a former СТА man, 
and is it not the CIA that, we learned, 
hires news correspondents as informers, in- 
cluding Sam А. Jaffce, once of CBS, who 
said it seemed to him quite possible that 
the CLA had got him hired by CBS in the 
first place? If the CIA could get people 
hired at CBS, could it not also influ- 
ence the content of broadcasts? If the 
head of Itek was with the CIA, could 
ltek's report to CBS have been influ- 
enced, particularly since 60 percent of 
Jtck’s business was for the Government? 

Another movie, this by Orville Nix, 
aroused high excitement because it 
seemed to show a rifleman perched on 
parked directly behind the concrete 
wall bordering the pergola near the 
y knoll. Edward Jay Epstein, 
ated the 
jon’s procedural inadequacies, 
nt this theory to national promi- 
nence in Esquire, while another critic, 
Jones Harris, who'd discovered the 
levolent figure, proceeded, with U.P. 
help (U.P.L had bought the Nix film 
for $5000), to subject the film to the 
greatest possible scrutiny. Thats right, 
they sent it to Itek. Its conclusion was 
that, because it Jacked depth, the figure 
was really a shadow and the 
parked far back of the pergola. Harris 
then decided that Itek and U.P.I. had 
collaborated to suppress the discovery of 
the real assassin. To answer this, Nix's 
poor-quality 8mm movie was once more 
alyzed, this time at Caltech. The re- 
sults received in February 1975 support- 
ed the Itek findings but did not rule out 
the possibility of a grassy-knoll assassin 
As of today, some theorists see three 
jgned on a walk descending 
а Elm Street. Two of 
с, its said, resemble Watergate plot- 
ters E. Howard Hunt and Frank Sturgi: 

In an Altgens' photo of the motorcade, 
if we look past the puzzled Jackie and the 
President just reacting to his first wound, 
we sce peering out of the Depository's 
broad entranceway. hard on the right, a 
face that mightily resembles Oswald's. 
As soon as the picture was released, 
people asked if it was Oswald, for, if so, 
ld could not be the killer. Thor- 
ough investigation, however, established 
that the n was Billy Nolan Lovelady, 
an employee of the Depository. Lovelad 
himself said “Yes, sir," when asked if 
that was he. But this was questioned, be- 
1 FBI photo of Lovelady showed 

a red-and-white-striped short- 
quite unlike the dark, long- 
t seen on the man in the 
doorw But Oswald, when arrested, 
was wearing a shirt very like the one on 
the man in the doorway. Eventually, 


whose book Inquest best illumi 


commi 


cause 
him i 
sleeved shir 
sleeved sl 


Lovelady said he did wear the dark shirt 
on November 22 but wore the striped 
shirt for the FBI picture. However, a 
different photo seems to show. him in the 
doorway wearing yet another dark checked 
shi ions about who 
was where. All this illustrates how any 
given piece of misinformation can awak- 
en suspicions of startling longevity. 

No suspicions in the assassin 
have had a greater ‘or more deserved 
life span than those surrounding the next 


mystery—the magic bullet. The thesis, 
as formulated by commission attorneys 
Arlen Specter and David Belin, was 
simple if farfetched. A bullet penctrated 
Kennedy's neck, transited the muscle lay- 


ers, exited at the throat, went on to punch 
an elliptical hole in Connally's back, there 
shattering the Texan's fifth rib, before 


exiting below the right nipple to tcar 
into the back of the right wrist, exit 


the palm and finish the r ble 
odyssey by lodging in the left thigh and 
finally falling out to be discovered on 
Parkland's stretcher. All this with only 
moderate Mattening and the loss from 
its base of no more than 2.4 grains of 
metal. (That is possible if unlikely: Only 
about 1.5 grains of metal either were re- 
moved from Connally’s wrist or seen by 
X ray to be still embedded in his chest 
and femur, But Weisberg maintains the 
metal missing from the bullet's base was 
cut out by the FBI for testing and 
was thus never in Connally.) When the 
wild theory of the bullet’s path was pro- 
posed, responsible investigators howled. 
How could it be? More importantly, why 
must it be? Did not the initial FBI and 
Secret Service as reports them- 
selves clearly say that three shots were 
fired, the first hitting the President in the 
back, the second striking Connally and 
the third slamming into Kennedy's skull? 
Why must there be a magic bullet at all? 
The answer me from Zapruder's 
camera. Quite simply, given the time 
needed to fire the Mannlicher-Carcano, 
the film showed that unless опе bullet 
struck both the President and the gov- 
ernor, there had to be more than one 
assassin. Had to be because between Za- 
pruder frame 225, when Kennedy clear- 
ly has been hit, and frame 237, when 
Connally unmistakably reacts to his 
wound, there isn't time to reload and 
fire Oswald's carbine. What was more 
perplexing, there seemed to be too much 
time between the reactions of. Connally 
and Kennedy for a single bullet to have 
penetrated both men, Never mind the 
bullet's physical condition. Here was 
scientific proof of conspiracy, not to men 
tion duplicity by the commission, such as 
ignoring the FBI and Secret Service and 
saying that Connally had suffered a “de- 
layed reaction” to the bullet marauding 
through his body. The contention again 
brought sophisticated optical analysis to 


bear on Zapruder's movie. The latest, 
conducted by the ubiquitous Itek, indi- 
cates that Connally may be reacting to 
his wound as early as frames 223-226, a 
sixth of a second in which a flipping mo- 
tion begins in the right hand, with which 
he holds his Stetson. Other theorists ridi- 
cule the suggestion, saying they see no 
sign of distress in Connally until almost 
a second after Kennedy is seen reaching 
for his throat. And how can he still be 
holding his Stetson in frame 235 if a bullet 
was coming out of his palm? No firm an- 
swer can be given, Men in combat often 
react late to wounds. Deer run through by 
high-powered arrows often look up quiz- 
у, then return to grazing before they 
realize they've been mortally wounded. 
Yet Connally himself has always vowed he 
was hit by the second shot, because he 
heard the first before fecling his wounds 
(you can't hear the bullet that h 
since sound travels at only 1100 fcet per 
second, half the speed of the 6.5mm 
rounds). It is “inconceivable” that he was 
hit by the same bullet that hit Kennedy. 
His wife agrees, saying she heard the shot 
and she and Connally started to turn 
toward the wounded President, and then 
the governor was hit. Of course, this also 
implics two gu 
shot from the Depository missed the car 
and that was what Connally heard, how 
then was the President hit before Connal- 


you, 


men, for cven if a first 


ly unless by another gun? Certainly, it 
could be that the Connallys are mistaken. 
In that case, return for a moment to the 
physical evidence. Could the notorious 
bullet do all that the commission asks of it? 

Numerous ballistics tests have been 
made with 6.5mm Mannlicher-Carcanos 
to determine if any bullet could do so 
much and yet end up mostly unmutilated 
The Army fired Oswald's carbine at blocks 
of skin-covered gelatin and chunks of 
animal flesh to simulate Kennedy's neck 
wound. It concluded that the pro 
jectile lost little velocity or stability (good 
penetrating power is characteristic of 
these quarter-inch slugs), thus account- 
ing for exit holes only slightly larger 
than the entrances. Testers also fired 
through a goat's chest cavity, producing 
back and rib wounds simil; 
nallys and slugs а bit more mutilated 
than the magic bullet. Another test on а 
er's wrist yielded a much more mu- 
tilated bullet but also a much more 
damaged wrist, which indicated to the 
commission that the Parkland bullet 
struck Connally's wrist at relatively low 
velocity. One would expect that from a 
bullet that had already transited two 
bodies, just as, the commission held, the 
ellipt and ragged entry exit 
wounds in Connally argued for a bullet 
that had begun yawing due to striking 
Kennedy first. These results at once were 


ar to Соп. 


са 


and 


attacked. For example, if the exit wounds 
in the neck tests consistently were larger 
than the entry holes, how did that fact 
square with Dr. Malcolm Perry's insist- 
ence right after the shooting that the 
wound in Kennedy's throat could have 
been an entry hole? But Dr. Perry had 
enlarged the “puncture” wound in 
futile tracheotomy 

Inevitably, more tests were staged and 
most of them reaffirmed what we've 
known since the beginning of firearms 
Bullets can do funny things. Bur this 
point is crucial and efforts to fathom 
its mystery continue. Dr. Milton Helpern, 
the former medical examiner of the city 
of New York and one of the most ex- 
perienced forensic pathologists in the 
world, says, “I cannot accept the premise 
that this bullet thrashed 
that bony tissue and lost only 1.4 to 2.4 
grains of its original weight.” A reason- 
able analogy is that if you drop some- 
one out of an airplane, he will die when 
he hits the ground. On the other hand, 
we know that some people haye survived 
just such falls. And we consider those 
events miracles. Dr. Cyril Wecht, foren- 
sic pathologist and coroner of Allegheny 
County, Pennsylvania, believes not only 
that the bullet would have been more 
deformed but that the trajectory of the 
shot as projected through Kennedy, given 
the positions of the two men as adduced 


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m 


Two photos of Lee Harvey Oswald. His wife, Marina, said she took them. Oswold 
claimed they were fokes, composites of his head on somebody else's body. The 
FBI agreed with Morina. Other theorists say the shadows under the nose are 
inconsistent with the other shadows, that Oswald's head in the photo ot left is 
the wrong size for the body ond thot close exomination of the photo at right 
reveals lines where the head was glued on for repholographing. Some soy Marina 


d when she said she took them in Morch, because the shrubs to the right of the 


figure do not bloom that early. The Worren Report insists these ore of Oswald. 
They do cleorly show a scope-mounted Monnlicher-Carcano, the weapon said to 


have killed Kennedy. The pistol is allegedly the one Oswald used to kill 


from Zapruder's film, makes it impossible 
for it to have hit Connally. Instead, Dr. 
Wecht says, the bullet that  transited 
the President went over the limousine 
drivers shoulder and beyond (n 
Iragmenting and hitting Tague), then an- 
other gunman hit Connally an instant 
later. Other noted pathologists claim it's 
quite possible the bullet did all that the 
report specifics, and besides, it i 
possible to deduce precise t 
from studying wounds. 

Gun buffs have long been curious. 
Suppose опе of the 1944 cartridges had 
lost some zip, was in effect “download- 
ed." That could cause low velocity and 
strange ballistics, For their part, scien- 
tific folk wonder if neutron-activation 
tests on Connallys clothes might show 
if that bullet struck him, leaving the 
telltale residue. Such tests would re- 
veal in parts-per-million accuracy if the 
copper traces matched the magic bullet. 
Unfortunately, Connallys clothes were 
washed or dry-cleaned before such tests 
could be made. What about Kennedy's 
bloody shirt and jacket, two evidenti: 
items of paramount importance? The 

204 Government's reports on them—extract- 


пу 


ed through Weisberg's Freedom of Infor 
tion suits—confirm that spectrography 
revealed traces of copper around the rear 
holes, indicating that а copper-jacketed 
bullet had pierced them. The report insists 
it was the superbullet. Yet, it seems, no 
tests tie those copper traces to the magi 
bullet. Nor are there, according to these 
documents, any traces of copper or lead 
alloys at the front of the shirt collar 
where, according to the report, the bul- 
let exited. Finally, it seems to Weisberg, 
based on recently obtained reports, th 
sophisticated — neutron-activation tests 
were done on the magic bullet and other 
recovered. fragments—but that the FBI, 
for whatever reasons, has suppressed or 
distorted the results to conform to the 
single-bullet thesis. So there remain un- 
answered. questions about. the m 
le—and, as we'll see, about Kennedy's 
clothes. For now, all we can know is that 
if that bullet did what the report's the- 
ory requires, it was, indecd, a magical 
projectile. 

So magical that one theory ma 
it never was fired through anything but 
cotton, was instead part of a plot calling 
for the deceptive bullet to be planted at 


Parkland Memorial Hospital—the beuer 
10 incriminate Oswald, the patsy. Didn't 
the respected journalist Seth Kantor and 
a witness named Wilma Tice swear they 
saw Jack Ruby there just after the shoot- 
ing? He could have done it and, as part 
of a plot, would deny it later at his trial. 
Penn Jones, a Texas newspaper editor 
who has followed a skein of mysterious 
deaths befalling witnesses, was at the 
hospital. тоо. and he has said that in the 
chaos there, a lot could have happened. 
Thus, there is debate over whether the 
bullet really was found on Connally’s 
stretcher. А hospital engineer named 
Darrell Tomlinson was not sure it was 
Connally's. Some people theorize that the 
bullet fell out of a shallow wound in 
Kennedy's back. a wound that has been 
covered up by the Government because 
its existence would again prove the con- 
spiracy the report had to dismiss for 
reasons of domestic tranquillity and world 
peace. 

For those convinced of conspiracy, how- 
ever, easier hypotheses were at hand. Some 
of them knew the fatal shot came not from 
the Depository but from the right front, 
from the grassy knoll. First, they say, 
more than half the witnesses in Dealey 
Plaza who had an opinion on the direc- 
tion of the shots said they came from 
the knoll or the stockade fence. Wilm: 
Boud's photographs showed people re- 
acting as if shots had come from there. 
These included motorcycle policeman 
Bobby Hargis, who charged the knoll, 
and Presidential aides such as Dave 
Powers and Secret Service men such 
Forrest Sorrels, who was riding in the саг 
head of Kennedy's, and 
ordinary citizens. These opinions have 
been bolstered ever since the assassination 
by photos and statements, most of which 
were debunked by the commission, whose 
members in several instances led to 
question the witnesses or to investigate 

n detail the evidence advanced for an 
assassin on the knoll. 

For example, Zapruder frames 313-316 
unmistakably show the President's head 
moving backward and to the left as 1 
suffers his killing wound. Groden's 
blowups and inten ations of these 
frames have convinced many people, par- 
ticularly among college audiences who 
see the film under the auspices of some 
ѕаѕѕіпацоп careerists called the Assas 
ion Information Bureau, that unless 
Newtonian laws of motion have bee: 
repealed, the shot had to come from 
the right front. This evidence is a staple 
for knoll-assassin believers. They are not 
persuaded otherwise by Itek's recent con 
clusion that Kennedy’s head (and most of 
his brain matter) is first driven forward, 
very fast then backward much more 
slowly. They do not believe that Jack 
pulled him leftward and backward, thus 
changing the head's direction. They do 
not accept the fact (established in tests 


numerous 


with skulls packed with tissue simulants) 
that a "jet" effect, a hydrostatic pro- 
pulsion due to the skull's explosion, 
threw Kennedy's head back. Rather, 
they point out that Officer Hargis, who 
was riding escort to the Presidential car 
at its leftrear fender, was splattered 
th blood and brain. That Officer James 
ey, looking at Kennedy from his 
motorcycle near the right fender, said 
he saw “the President struck in the face.” 
That Deputy Sheriff Seymour Wei 
man found part of Kennedy’s skull, per- 
haps the same piece that Jackie had 
scrambled onto the trunk of the Lincoln 
to try to recover, on the south (left) side of 
Elm Street. That Secret Service agent 
Clint Hill and eyewitness Charles Brehm 
saw what they thought was impact debris 
flyi to the left and rear of the car (it 
seems to have been recorded, too, on 
Nix's film). That agent Hill and his col- 
Icague Roy Kellerman, who was riding 
the right-front seat of Kennedy's а 
the fatal shot sounded funny, 
double bang-bang (and Hill thought there 
had been only two shots, the second in 
the head). No. they think the shot had 
to come from the right front, from an- 
other kind of gun, perhaps one loaded 
with explosive bullets (eerily, there is a 
port that in carly 1963, some members 
of the CIA asked a research-and-develop- 
ment man to sketch an exploding round 
for a 6.5mm Mannlicher-Carcano). 
Other photographs, too, conjured men 
on the grassy knoll. Groden has to his 
own satisfaction identified two shadows in 
the Zapruder film as more snipers. We 
have seen the speculations based on the 
Nix film. Another photograph, taken by 
Mary Moorman, who stood about 15 
feet from the President's car, seems to 
show a man with a gun standing behind 
the stockade fence about 14 feet from its 
corner. The Moorman photo, taken ap- 
proximately one filth of a second after 
Kennedys head exploded, has been 
studied intensely. Some experts say the 
figure is a shadow, others that it is an 
sin. 
S. M. Holland, a railroad switchman, 
standing on the Triple Underpa 
when the shots were fired. He hotfooted 
it to the parking lot and found muddy 
footprints behind the fence, It looked to 
him like one or two men had paced back 
and forth behind a car. Holland is posi- 
tive he heard shots coming from the knoll 
(others think it could have been cchoes). 
Holland's story, which he told re- 
peatedly to sundry assassination bulls, 
clud the Warren Commission, 
nicely, if circumstantially, with that told 
by Lee Bowers, who was ensconced in a 
railioad switching tower. Belore the 
assassination, he saw what he took to be 
strange movements of cars and people 
the Jot and then flash of light or 
smoke or something" that caught his суе. 
The claims of Holland and Bowers 


fits 


excited other investigators, even if they 
failed to convince the commission that 
something strange might have been afoot. 
The railroad yards themselves inspired 
another grassy-knoll speculation, for it 
was from them that the three famous 
“tramps” were rousted after the murder 
and marched across Dealey Plaza, where 
they were photographed (see below). 
Other theories include the suggestion 
that conspirators had hollowed out the 
grassy knoll and then cut down the 
President from there. Former New Or- 
leans district attorney Jim Garrison and 
Penn Jones say a gunman lurked in a 
sewer and on signal plugged the Presi 
dent. Much more intriguing is the “um- 
brella man.” Although the day was warm 
and sunny, a single neatly dressed п 
stood and watched the President being 
murdered, while holding an open um- 
brella above his head. After the killing, 
he stood watching the motorcade, trailing 
the dying President, disappear down Elm 
Street, then folded his umbrella and 
walked calmly away. He was the only 
person so shielding himself. Could that 
have been a signal for shooting to begin? 
Or did the man have a gun built into his 
umbrella? Was he acting in concert with a 
man one assassination theory calls a “com- 


BIT PLAYERS 


The clearest picture af the “tramps” ever 
published. Theorists say the twa men at 
right are Frank Sturgis and E. Howard Hunt, 
both with the CIA and thus in Dallas to assist 
in killing Kennedy. Nixon was also in Dallas 
the morning af November 22, and so may 
have had an early relationship with the men 
later hired as White House “plumbers. 

Others say the tramps are Americans who 
trained Cuban cammandos and then, when 
the President turned away from 
Cuba, they killed 
either theory, and since the men don't look 
like Sturgis and Hunt, and no soldiers of 
fortune have yet been identified, they may 
just be well-dressed, well-groomed tramps, 


munications man,” another figure in a 
photograph who appears to have a "two- 
way radio" in his back pocket (and who 
has been ied as a man now a 
patient in a mental hospital)? It's possible 
that he was just an eccentric, but the 
Warren Commission never looked into 
this. 

It did, however, look into and dis- 
miss as meaningless a story three wit- 
nesses told of two men, scen at different 
times. One man, heavy-set, was said to be 
Depository window, then hurrying 
y from the Depository and finally 
entering a station wagon driven by а 
young black man. The other, younger, 
was seen by Deputy Sheriff Roger Craig. 
running out of the Depositorys Elm 
Street entrance, down the gentle slope 
and into a light-colored Rambler sta 
tion wagon (easily identifiable by its roof- 
top luggage rack). The driver of the 


ам 


gon, according to Craig, was "very 
ark complected, had real dark short 
nd was wearing a thin white-look- 


ing jacket.” Craig said he tried to reach 
the car to question the men, but the 
crush of people prevented him, and then 
the wagon took off down Elm. 

Many people believe these witnesses 
are describing other assassins, even by 
the Warren Commission's lights, because 
they could not be Oswald. He was, the 
report says, bus and a taxi 
toward his rooming house. The heavy-set 
man could be the “Saul” who has con- 
fessed in Hugh McDonald's recent book, 
Appoiniment in. Dallas, that һе killed 
Kennedy for money, with Oswald à 
patsy. The youngér man could be the 


taking a 


a 


second Oswald, out on his 
rounds again, this time as a 
Depository. The driver of the station 


wagon could be a Cuban exile or, if you 
prefer, one of Cas enging the 
assassination plots the CIA-Mafia connec- 
ion concocted for the Cuban leader in the 
early Sixties. Or they could have been $ 
of a Texas right-wing plot. H. L. Hunt's 
son Nelson Bunker Hunt partly paid for 
а scurrilous ennedy ad that ap- 
peared the morning of November 22, and 
Jack Ruby had driven one of his strippers 
to Hunt's office the day before, and Mrs. 
Paine had a light-colored station wagon. 
Craig himself now is dead, under strange 
circumstances, as are more than 50 people 
who allegedly knew something about 
Kennedy's death. (The actuarial odds 
against that were calculated at 100 trillion 
to one.) So huge a conspiracy probably 
would come apart in time, Joe Valachi- 
style. But two or three men would need 
only their anger and a gun. Is there any 
d evidence of a second gunman? 

‘The ultimate evidence was the Presi- 
dent's body, but the autopsy was botched 
from start to finish. At Bethesda Naval 
Hospital on November 22, a team of 


pathologists conducted the autopsy under 


205 


PLAYBOY 


"Remember, folks, more commer 


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it than any other toothpaste.” 


conditions of stress, shock and pressure, 
which apparently caused them to om 
some valuable procedures (e.g, dissecti 
the neck—or back—wound). Two 
agents named James Sibert 


cis O'Neill observed the autops 
report said of the President's wo 
dista Jed by this missile was a short 


distance inasmuch as the end of the open- 
ing could be felt with the finger.” The 
agents also called it a "back" wound rather 
nd said the down 
le was 45 to 60 degrees, a trajec 
tory inconsistent with the 20-degree angle 
from the Depository's sixth-floor window. 
Secret Service man Kellerman, also 
present, said the wound was probed and 
Lieutenant Colonel Pierre Finck, the 
forensic medicine specialist, told him 
there was no outlet. How, then, could the 
same bullet have hit Connally? Further- 
more, the FBI men said the doctors were 
puzzled because they could find no bullet 
the back wound, and so Finck and 
athologist, Commander Humes, 
entirely possible” the bullet 
its way out and fallen on a 
stretcher. How did the report's defenders 
answer this? The same way they answered 
so many other thin, didn't fit: They 
said it was a mistake. The FBI and Secret 
Service agents were laymen, after all. Be- 
ides, by morning the autopsy physicians 
had conferred with the doctors at Park- 
and and confirmed that the tracheotomy 

had obliterated Kennedy’s throat wound. 

That gave them the exit wound for the 
206 bullet, though it ignored the possibility 


the wound marked a bullets entrauce. 
The fact that the wound couldn't be 
probed was explained by saying the 
muscles had closed, a contention strongly 
resisted by pathologists like Wecht. Fo 
those critical of the commission, the con- 
Hlicting reports smacked of ex post facto 


Another puzzle was the sketch of Ken- 
nedy’s wounds made by the third physician. 
Commander Boswell. There the wound 

shown not the neck, about two 


et 
aw Kennedy hit "four 
down from the right shoulder"). 


inches 
so low 


that to exit at the throat, piercing the shirt 
nd nic 


collar 


ing the tie, the bullet would 
ard. Weisberg still 
ns that the front of the shirt and 
damaged by surgeons, not by 
Is Boswell's sketch mi: n? Th 
doctors say yes, as to location. The sketch 
was merely à rough. ‘The measurements 
are found noted on it, placing the wound 
14 centimeters (5.6 inches) down from the 
right mastoid process (the bony point be- 
hind the right car) meters 
from the tip of the right shoulder. Right 
in the neck. In the report's 
supporters say, we have X rays and photo- 
phs of the body. 

Surprisingly, these visual records were 
never seen by the members of the Warre 
Со Tn 1968, awa 
of the report, Attorney General Ram- 
sey Clark secured permission for three 


sh in à 


ission. 


pathologists and a radiologist to examine 
the X rays and photos. They confirmed 
that the President was shot twice from 
above and behind, the one bullet most 
probably going through his neck and out 
his throat, and the other blowing a large 
hole in the right side of his skull. A few 
years later, Wecht examined the materials. 
the first alternate-theorist to do so. He 
grudgingly accepted that finding, while 
reiterating that there might be fragments 
from other bullets in Kennedy and that 
the finding did not per se preclude an- 
other gunman. Wecht also wanted, dur- 
ing later surveys of the material, to 
examine Kennedy’s brain, which should 
have been preserved for sectioning so а 
pathologist could trace the exaet paths of 
all bullets and fragments. So it was we 
learned the ghastly fact that the Presi- 
dents brain is missing or hidden. Е 
without that cerebral aid. Dr. James Wes- 
ton—the newly clected president of the 
National Academy of Forensic Sciences— 


has said he has absolutely no doubt after 
exi g all available autopsy materials 
that John. Kennedy was hit by only wo 


shots, both from above. behind and slight- 
ly to the right. One went through the 
neck. The other entered the skull, dis- 
tinctly beveling the bone inward. It seems 
most likely that two shots from above and 
behind caused Kennedy's d. 


th. 
Except for the jacket and shirt. Con- 


sider first that, as anyone with a jacket 
and shirt can determine at home, in 
order for the holes—ibout five and Г 
inches down from the collartop—to align 
with the wound in the neck, tlie ga 
would have had to ride up about. thr 
inches. In simulating the situation, it i 
difficult, to cause shirt—let alone a 
heavier suit солго ride up that far. 
Also photographs of the President at the 


ching the magicbullet shot 


nedy’s shirt and jacket seem- 
ingly unbunched. And even if the clothes 
had ridden up that far as the President 
d, they would have doubled over, 
which means that а bullet would have 
perforated at least one garment three 
s. It didn’t. Then there is the dis- 
concerting fact that the holes do line up 
with the wound shown on Commander 
Boswell's sketch. Finally. one must nore 
the peculiar holes beside the shirt col- 
ars button. They are sharp-edged and 
elliptical, not ragged or puncturelike, 
leading people to guess that they, per- 
haps the ties nick, too, resulted at 
Parkland from cutting the Presi 
dent's clothes to give him air. Then there 
would be no magic bullet coming out at 
the throat and there would be another 
gunman—something even Weston's un- 
equivocal statement does not eliminate. 
The shirt and jacket alone justify а new 
avestigation. They constitute physical 
evidence that contradicts the Warre 
Commission's theory. For that matter, we 


way 


have seen several other questions—such 
as, was Oswald on the Depository's sixth 
floorz—that a skillful defense attorney 
could have used to challenge the Goy- 
ernment’s case against Oswald. And 
beyond the physical evidence lie hints 
that make him more than the report 
would have him, more than the desperate 
little youth who grabbed for glory. 

Thus, to arrive at the end with any 
understanding of the Kennedy riddle, we 
need а brief summary of the chief con- 
spiracy suppositions, if only to judge 
how believable they might b 

The Oswald-Ruby-Tippit Connection: 
This theory holds that Ruby and Tippit 
knew Oswald and conspired with him, 
maybe on behalf of right-wingers in the 
Has police department. Evidence lor 

skimpy. Unverified tales 

nd Oswald in a diner nc: 
nd Tippit and 
Ruby, and maybe Oswald, huddling at 
Rubys Carousel Club. Could be. Ruby 
cultivated cops, but it was probably be- 
cause he had a long rap shcet. But what 
if Acquilla Clemons was correct in saying 
she saw on November 22 two men a 


shoot the cop? The Warren Commi: 
didn't believe that and nine other wit- 
nesses put Oswald at the scene or fleeing 
it (and we know his gun did kill Tippit). 
Did the cops try to kill Oswald in the 
theater as a part of a plot? A dick was 
heard during the struggle to subdue Os- 
ave come from Oswald's 
gun, which cont scharged 
cartridge case. Or it could have been a 
cop's gun. No one checked their service 
revolvers. In any event, Oswald not 
killed by the police but by Ruby. How 
did Ruby accomplish that? It's claimed 
that one of his many police friends tipped 
him off when Oswald was going to be 
moved from police headquarters to the 
county jail. But the precise moment of 
transfer kept changing, due to epidemic 
confusion up to the time of the move. 
Probably Ruby just took the notion about 
11:20 aai. Sunday, November 24. Any- 
way, thei firm evidence that Tippit, 
Ruby and Oswald were conspirators. 
The Clay Shau-Jim Garrison Carnival: 
Nothing had ever aroused the demi- 
monde of assassination bulls like the 
nnouncement in February 1967 
irrison had solved the case. The 
tion hi 


ed 


a d 


is 


that 


n 


tional Trade М 
liberal views, a homosexual and the man 
who plotted with Oswald and one David 
Ferrie. Assassination theorists—even a 
man who believed the world was run by 
a conspiracy of intellectuals called the 
Illuminati—dcscended on New Orleans. 
This time they would see the truth. 

What they finally saw was the 


Phu of oficiu 


ies. Here was а big m 


Bie l assassination in- 
qui n with a stall, 
the power of subpoena and all the things 
the theorists had said they needed, but 
all he did was to fall from high serious- 
ness to low farce, taking a passel of legi 
mate and illegitimate speculations with 
him. The trouble was that many of the 
witnesses who testified about Shaw turned 
out to be either crazy or dishonest. 
Even gruesome repetitions of the Za- 
pruder film (designed, it appears, to make 
the jurors want to convict somebody) 
failed. Shaw was acquitted. Garrison 
lived on to become an ex-district 
torney and the cause of finding con- 
spiracies suffered a monumental seth; 
A shame, many felt, because some wo 
while leads surfaced, such as a possible 
CIA link. But th 


rie had been contract employees of the 
CIA. Coupled with Ferrie's affection for 
big Mafia figures and with the CLA-Mob 
alliance to assassinate Castro, we then 
had the makings of more plots. 

The CIA-Mafia-Big Labor Connec- 
tion: In addi g a pilot, Ferrie 
was а homose: а gun enthusiast and 
was said to be involved in training an 
Castro commandos. An active little man 
afflicted with a disease that had caused 
all his hair to fall out, Ferrie also worked. 
for a lawyer who handled the business 
of Carlos “Fhe Little Man" Marcello, 
the alleged godfather of Mafia operations 
throughout Louisiana's Jefferson Parish 
and environs. It was Ferrie who re 
portedly flew Marcello home to New 
Orleans from Guatemala City after Rob- 
ert Kennedy had Marcello deported. 

Understandably, Marcello detested 
Robert Kennedy. He also hated Jack 
Kennedy, who had blown the Bay of Pi 
losing the brotherhood's Havana casinos, 
whores, numbers and dope to the puri- 
tanical socialist Castro. Marcello's distaste 
for the Kennedys was shared by Jimmy 
Holla and probably neither was grieved 
by Jack's death. 

Ferrie was anti-Castro. Oswald pre- 
tended to be for a spell during his stay in 
New Orleans. Could Ferrie have met Os- 
wald? There is no hard evidence. Ferrie 
was found dead, reportedly of natural 
causes, only days after Garrison's investi- 
ation became public. We can assume 
Ferrie might have heard of Oswald. Lee 
was on television and radio during August 
1063 as a sane and articulate defender of 
Castro. The publicity resulted from Os- 
wald’s leafleting in behalf of his Fai 
Play for Cuba Committee in front of 
the old International Trade Mart. Did 
anything weld all this to the events in 
Dallas: 

Maybe Ruby did. He was involved 
with big labor and, through it, with 
organized crime and, through that (some 
say, with killing John Kennedy. The 


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207 


linc begins in Chicago, where he was 
secretary of the Scrap Iron and Junk 
Handlers Union, later indirectly allied 
with Hoffa. He next turned up in Dallas. 
Had not Ruby spent ten days in 1959 
in Cuba with Lewis J. McWillic, a gam- 


PLAYBOY 


bler with Mob connections? He also 
supposedly visited some of Marcello's 
bı 


ness associates, the renowned Lansky 
brothers. Throw in the presence on 
November 22 in the Dal-Tex building of 
ugene Hale Brading (a ridiculous con- 
nection, since he went in only to use the 
phone). Brading had dropped by the 
offices of H. L. Hunt the same after- 
noon (November 21) Ruby had and, 
like Ruby, had a long criminal record. 
Could he have collaborated with Ruby 
and Oswald? The possibility is there. The 
skein of circumstances is stretched. Mar- 
cello jHolfa to Ferrie/Shaw to Ruby/Os- 
wald. And all perhaps aided by the CIA, 
t of the unholy alliance of MEO 


supports them. 
sent Oswald Question: 
theory has received greater play than 
that Oswald was somebody's secret agent. 
No amount of caviling can make it go 
away. Rather, just go down the list and 
come to whatever conclusions seem war- 
ranted. Lec went to Russia h minor ra- 
Oswald's uncle lived 
building reserved for 
MVD employees. Lee reportedly associated 
with Cubans during his stay in Minsk. 


No 


tment 


The Озу: less trouble than one 
would expect leaving Russia, but it did 
take more than a year; and Yuri Nosen- 


ko's defection seemed designed to con- 

ice the U. S. that. Russia һай nothing 

10 do with the assassination. So maybe 

Russian agent. Arguing 

ny of that is the sheer insanity of 
Khrshiclievs ordering Kennedy killed ПЕ 
discovered, that ploy could leave the 
world a smoking rubble. 

There is no evidence, physical or 
otherwise, to support the Castro-agent 
theory, except Oswald's hucksterin; 
favor of Havana, Lyndon Johnson, not 
Jong before his death, opined that Castro 
might have been involved. But killing 
Kennedy, had it leaked, would have 
sparked an invasion making D day look 
like a yachting exercise. 

‘There is some evidence that Cub 
exiles did away with Kennedy. But 
fragile мий. A named Sylvia 
Odio, the daughter of Cubans imprisoned 
by Castro, told the Warren Commission 
that on September 25, 1963, three men 
had visited her im Dallas They said 
they һай come from New Orleans, Two 
looked like Mexicans and the other was 
“Leon Oswald.” One of the men sug- 

208 gested that “Oswald” could help in the 


ld was a 


woman 


underground activitics against Castro. 
Mrs. Odio's testimony was corroborated 
by her sister and she umhesitatingly 
identified photographs of Oswald as the 
man who had visited her. But that 
couldn't be. Oswald was supposed to be 
on a bus from New Orleans to Mexico on 
September 25. The riddle remains. 

What about Oswald as a CIA agent? 
Sober analysts assume that if the Rus- 
sians, as Nosenko said, thought Oswald 
was an Am " agent, then 


ihe visa stamps in the p 


assport Oswald 
carried when he defected show him get- 
ting from England to Finland at times 
when there were no commer i 
flights. What about the fact that Oswald's 
recorded height and eye color vary widely 
at different times? Likewise, theorists 
point out, the official Dallas police photo 
of Oswald shows a man quite different in 
facial structure from the chubby-checked 
youth pictured in Minsk. Further, one 
photo of Marina and Lee in Russia shows 
him very litle taller than his 5'3” wife, al- 
though that Oswald's passport has him 
511” and the Oswald measured in the 
Dallas morgue was 59". Were there two 
or more Oswalds, one a CIA man? Or is 
it simpler? Clerks make errors, people 
do fib about their size, photo angles can 
be deceptive and a face's fatness or thin- 
ness can change. But ear shape does not 


change, and the ears of the Dallas Os- 
wald, 


the Marines Oswald and the Rus- 
atch. What else? Oswald 
went to Mexico in September 1963 to 
a visa lor Cuba and permission to 
reenter Russia, He was refused. The 
CIA provided the FBI with photos of a 
burly man, about 35, who looked noth- 
g like Oswald. But through a mistake, 
later corrected, they said it was he. The 
CIA theorists pounced. The man had to 
be (A) another Oswald, (B) the mysterious 
assassin named Saul, (C) Oswald's CLA 
contact, or "baby sitter." The CIA ve- 
hemendy denies this, saying it sent a 
picture of an unidentified man who might 
have been Oswald, but it didn't know. 
АП of this still leaves only the possibility 
but mo absolute proof that Oswald 
worked somehow lor the CIA. Given his 
background, it's entirely possible, but it 
doesn’t mean the CEA killed Kennedy. 

How about the FBI? Only two verifi- 
able items link Oswald to the FBI. Опе 
that the name, phone number and license 
number of Agent James Hosty was in 
Oswald's notebook (but Hosty was 
signed to interview Marina). And Oswald 
sent a note to. Hosty (but the FBI had 
destroyed: so we'll never know what it 
said). The real question is why, 
note, the FBI didn't lock Oswald up while 
the President was in town, a normal pro- 
cedure with nuts who might try some- 
thing. 


So, while some of these leads need 
reinvestigation, nothing now proves Os- 
wald was an agent. That may be ant 
climactic. But the proper ending to the 
story can come only if we learn what the 
CIA, for example, really knows about 
Oswald. The FBI should open all its 
files on the Oswalds and their acquaint- 
ances. There should be a new investiga- 
tion conducted by a panel with no sins 
to cover up and no case to prove. Only 
then would these serious speculations and 
s be confirmed or confounded. 

th be free of the more 
ions that distract us from the 
plausible alternatives to the Warren 
Report. 

Free of George O'Toole's contention 
that “psychological stress evaluations” of 
words of Oswald’s show he was not 

y. O'Toole was, after all, once with 
the CLA. 

Free of Fletcher Prouty’s belief in a 
gigantic plot in which the CIA, FBI, 
Secret Service, Teamsters, Mafia, Defense 
Intelligence Agency. National Security 
Agency and the Warren Commission it- 
sell are “all pawns” of a gigantic cabal. 

Free of Hugh С. McDonald and his 
Saul, chat unnamed, unavailable, unveri- 
fiable killer who may well have sprung 
from McDonald's head, along with his 
belief that the Russians are all the time 
giving us the flu by firing small germ- 
nested rockets into the jet stream. 
се of Gore Vidal’s supposition tha 
Oswald's notebooks and diary were, like 
Sirhan Sirhan's and Arthur Bremer’ 
written by Howard Hunt, and of the 
sm in William Kunstler's statement 
hs of John and Robert. K 
nedy ended а danger to the country 

Free of all the nut stuff, of all 
paranoia, of all the fantasizing 
malevolent forces that control our de 
tiny. We control our destiny, or should. 
We can find out if Oswald truly was a 
pitiable young man who took history by 
the horns or we can learn if he truly wa 
an agent of some kind. 

We need to know, and we can. The 
"Texas statute of limitations for conspiracy 
has expired for any conspirators still resi 
dent there, Someone who knows about a 
plot to kill Kennedy can now come for- 
ward without fear of prosecution. We 
have the physical evidence. We have the 
other important leads. The 
legal and investigative 
be assembled. To these ends we believe 
there should be a new investigation by 
an impartial, representative panel of 
Americans, dedicated only to discovering 
the facts ut 
the murder of our 35th President, We 
cannot abide less. 


the 
bout the 


1 destroying the fictions a 


This is the fifth in a series of articles 
on political assassination m America. 


JERRY FORD „сее 


Gettings was a bear of a man, a model of 
athletic deportment. You showed up on 
time for his practices; you got a lap to run 
for every minute you were late. Gettings 
remembers being ten minutes late himself 
one day and the team made the old man 
run his laps, too, all heart-pounding ten 
of them, and guess who chalked up each 
lap as he ran? 

Wearing a coat and tie when his high 
school classmates wore sweaters, remem- 
bered as serious and shy and entirely 
without interest in girls. Junie played 
football like a maniac, played center in 
n era when to center the ball was to 
throw a difficult, upside-down, ass-back. 
ward pass. “I must have centered the ball 
500,000 times in high school and college, 
he recounts. Hc was à backer 
on defense, a 60-minute man. He made 
AII-Ciry three years in a row. He played 
hard. He played to win. He learned to 
he а tcam player, nong equals— 
a lesson he never forgot. 

He was nevertheless a local hero, and 
it is not an exaggeration to say that hi 
first sweet taste of 10 success deter- 
mined his career. In the autumn of 1930, 
during his sparkling senior year, a Grand 
apids theater held a contest, part of a 
promotional scheme in 50 Midwestern 
cities, to identify the most popular high 
school seniors. Kids tered down to 
the old Majestic in droves and filled out 
their ballots and dropped them into the 
ballot box. All-City center Jun 
won. The р 
ton, D.C. To get to Washington. all you 
have to do is please the folks back home. 

But 1930 brought another event, an 
event that preceded the populari 
test and must have confirmed its me: 
beyond inner debate: The former Leslie 
Lynch King, Jr., met his real father for 
the first (remembered) time. 

Ford tells the story to all his biogra- 
phers, repeating it like the Ancient Mai 
ner to drive its homiletic tragedy home. 
He told it best to Hersey 

“I was, I think, a junior in high school 
in the spring. 1930. 1 worked at a restau- 
rant acros from South High called 
Skougis. It was a 1929, 1930 hamburger 
stand with counters—a dilapidated place. 
Bill Skougis was a shrewd Greek business- 
man and he hired as waiters the out- 
standing football players. He paid me 
two dollars plus my lunch—up to 
cents a meal—and I worked from 11:30 
to one, through the noon-hour class 
periods, and one night a week from 
seven to ten. [Ford makes much of his 
modest, even impoverished, childhood, 
but notice that his take for part-time 
work, counting the lunches, was four- 
filty а week at a time—the empty belly 
of the Depression—when Dad Ford had 
been forced to reduce the wages he paid 
the family men at his factory to five 
dollars a week. Dad Ford himself took 


à man 


home no тоге]... I was standing there 
taking money, washing dishes and . 
man came in and stood against the 
counter for ten minutes. Finally, he walked 
over to where I working. "Lesli 
he said. I didn't answer. He said, ‘I'm 
Leslie King, and you're Leslie King, Jr’ 
Well, it was kind of shocking. He said, 
‘I would like to take you to lunch.’ My 
father took me out to his car, which w 
parked in the front—a brand-new Cadil- 
lac or Lincoln—and he introduced me to 
his wife. So we went to lunch. He was then 
living in Wyoming with his wife and they 
had come out to buy a new Cadillac or 
Lincoln, which was a beautiful car for 
those days, and they had picked it up in 
Detroit and were driving back to Wyo- 
ming, and they wanted to stop in and see 
me. [Hadn't come to see him, the long- 
lost son, had come all the way from 
Wyoming to pick up a car and on the 
way home stopped by for lunch.] Which 
he did. And after we had finished lunch, 
he took me back to the school. I said 
goodbye. He said, "Will 
and sce me in Wyoming? 
about it." 

But not think too hard. Ac lunch, Ford 
told biographer Jerald terHorst, "I 


thought, here I was. earning two dollars 
a week [sic] and trying to get through 
school, my stepfather was having difficult 
times, yet here was my real father, obvi 
ously doing quite well if he could pick up 
w Lincoln. . . ." 

That's one of two Leslie Ki 
the President tells, and perhaps. before 
we consider it you should hear the other 
one as well. It’s briefer but even тоге 
to the point. “My junior year at Ann 
Arbor [Ford went to the University of 
Michigan after South High], which would 
be 33—31, when my stepfather's business 
had long gone to pot, he was hanging o 
by his fingernails, my father—my real 
father—had been ordered at the time of 
the divorce to pay my mother child 
maintenance, and he never paid any. 1 
was having a terrible time, [But conside 
this terrible time.] Sure, I was earning 
my board and | saved some money work- 
ing for my stepfather in the summer. But 
it wasn't enough. 1 wasn't able to pav 
my bills—the fraternity [Рена Карр: 
Epsilon, Deke, the jock fraternity], the 
room where I lived. And | wrote my 
father and asked him if he could help 
And, as J recall, I either got no answer 
or, if T got an answer, he said he couldn't 
do it. I felt that. from wi I under. 
stood, his economic circumstances were 


an 


g stories 


208 


PLAYBOY 


such that he could have been helpful. I 
had that impression. From that Lincoln 
or Cadillac I'd seen that he'd bought. 
And then after I graduated from Michi- 
gan, I went to Yale, of course. And then 
onc time, out of the blue, I got a letter, 
a phone call or something, saying that 
he was coming with his wife, the woman 
I had met, with his son by the second 
marriage—he was really my stepbrother. 
d they were trying to find a school 
in the East for him, and could they stop 
by and maybe I could give them some 
advice. So they stopped. 1 did meet the 
son. And J went to dinner with them and 
gave them some thoughts about schools 
n the East and never saw them agai 
Do still, angry waters run deep? The 
ntagonists of these tales are wealth, 
fine cars, a second, younger wife, a sec- 
ond, cherished son and Cinderella in the 
food-stained sweater of a letterman, but 
their secret agony is unrequited love. 
Part of Jerry wanted to be a King, Or 
; prince: 20 or 21 years old, 
ks for child support "Had King 
arrived now," TerHorst asks melodra- 
matically, paraphrasing Ford, "so he 
could go back to Wyoming and brag 
about secing his son, the football sta 
The crowds loved Junie: why didn't his 
father, the Cadillac m: And why didn't 
he prove it by bailing him out? 
Obsessed with success, Gerald Ford has 
never loved money, which must seem par- 


adoxii in a man who picks his friends 
(and his Vice-President) from among men 
of wealth, until you consider that the dad 


who loved him never made much of it 
nd the father who abandoned him had 
tin Ford's imagination, at least—to 
burn. So Ford the Congressman, in the 
first moments nom; 
Чоп to the expressed 


his elevation would bring. And so Ford 
the President chose Nelson Rockefeller 
as his side-kick, followed the revelations 
of Rockefellers enormous wealth with 
abashed glee and later, the tables 
ned, left the archetypal rich man 
turning slowly, slowly in the wind until 
he removed himself from the ticket. 
Money, Rocky, money don't buy love. 

To a greater ent than most of us 
like to admit, parents make us what we 
are. Presidents in particular have been 
mother-driven men, driven by mothers 
so intensely curbed in achievement 
themselves that they inculcate a. psycho- 

hunger for fame in their sons. 


most literally so. A man born from the 
t continental land and nurtured there 
returns as husband to honor and enlarge 
its great affairs. Ford was an only child 
for five long years and im tha 
might have nourished a huge and h 
egotism, but the conflicts of his paternity, 
conflicts his mother inadvertently 
duced, embedded anger, vanity and in- 


210 security instead. 


It took him years to piece together the 
reasons for that confusion, the double 
paternity, the double juniors, the father 
who abandoned him, the stepfather who 
took him in. He matured corresponding. 
ly late. In the curious, half-literate book 
that Ford co-authored with his Grand 
Rapids friend John R. Stiles, Portrait of 
the Assassin, à book about Lec Harvey 
Oswald that Stiles and the Warren Com- 
mission largely wrote, occasional sen- 
tences and paragraphs appear that clearly 
came from Ford's hand. One of them 
propounds a hypothesis so contrary to 
the traditional assumptions of psychology 
that it fairly shivers on the page. Apolo- 
gizing for Marguerite Oswald's insistence 
that her son was a normal child, Ford 
writes: “As intimately as a mother feels 
she knows a son, what happens to a 
young man in the critical years 17 to 
21 can obscure everything in the p: 
One to five, certainly; 12 to 13, possibly; 
but 17 to 21? Seventeen to 21: from the 
year Leslie King announced himself to 
the year he refused to acknowledge and 
aid his son. 

The approbation Ford couldn't find 
Wyoming he found on the football field, 
where crowds cheered his plays. 1t proved 
to him that he should seek vindication 
im public Ше. He sought that vini 
tion with silent bitterness. Instead of a 
lover, he became an absentee husband; 
instead of a man of compassion, he be- 
сате а man hard of heart; instead of a 
potential statesman, he became, in. Lyn- 
don Johnson's brilliant phrase, "onc of 
the wooden soldiers of the status quo. 
He was always, would always be, a dili- 
gent worker, but he worked in the wrong 
direction, to the casier and more im- 
mediate end. He was a handsome, naive 
football star and, like too many stars, he 
became an unwitting victim, missing the 
slow but solid passes that came his way 
because he thought he already had the 
ball and was running down the field. 

The captain of Michigan's w 
1933 team remembers Ford as "a player 
who had no fear,” but off the field fe 
clocked its hour. One of Ford's Michigan 
teammates was а black named Willis 
Ward. Ford liked Ward and sometimes 
roomed with him when the team trav- 
eled, which you must understand to have 
been an act of some bravery in the 
overtly racist America of the Thirties. 
Early in the 1934 season, Michigan was 
scheduled to play Georgia Tech when 
the word came up from D 
be no game if Ward appeared on the 
field. The Michigan adm 
pitulated despite the efforts of 


the 
school's more liberal football coach. Jerry 


was agonized and considered protest: 
What if he refused to play? The night 
before the game he called Dad Ford, but 
his stepfather declined the privilege of 
making up his 20-year-old son's mind. 
Ford balanced the weakness of the team 


against the strength of his conscience: 
the team won. He was still stinging when 
a Georgia Tech lineman jecred “Nigger” 
over the centered ball, and Ford and a 
guard blocked the lineman so viciously 
he had to be carried off the field. The 
story is cited in Ford's biographies as 
proof of his early dedication to liberal- 
ism. It's not. It’s proof of his carly dedi 
cation to scapegoating. “Thanks to my 
football experience,” he would tell an 
audience years later, "I know the value 
of team play. It is, I believe, one of the 
most important lessons to be learned and 
practiced in our lives" The Georgia 
Tech game was nor the last time Ford's 
loyalty to а team took precedence over 
his moral judgment. 

Ford's intelligence has long been a 
matter of dispute. When he was nom- 
inated for the Vice-Presidency. there 
were those who recalled Lyndon John- 
son's famous remark about Jer d 
his missing helmet, and others who re- 
membered Johnson's scoffing, “Jerry's so 
dumb he can't fart and chew gum at the 
same tine." Alice Roosevelt Longworth, 
Washington's aging resident wit, worked 
up her Ford material to nothing better 
than "poor, dull Jerry"; John Ehrlich- 
man cracked, “What a jerk Jerry is,” 
which, considering the source, must be 
counted ап expert opinion; and the 
leader Ford most idolized and deferred 
to, Richard хоп, is sa to hà 
laughed hysterically at the notion that 
Congress would depose him in favor of 
Ford. “Can you see Jerry occupying this 
chair?" are the words usually attributed 
to the man who nomi 1 him for of- 
fice a heartbeat away. Ford's defender 
hastened to point out that Jerry earned 

good B average at every school he at- 
tended—at South High, at Michigan, at 
Yale Law. The curiosity of these grade 
if ВУ at Yale Law, why not A's at Mich- 
igan or South High?—has even engaged 
the attention of Ford himself. He per- 
formed respectably against one of the most 
ale Law classes ever i 
uated. Ninety-nine of that class of 
were Phi Beta Kappas on admission, а 
mong them moved such future not 
as Supreme Court Justice Potter Stew: 
argent Shriver, Congressma Peter 
Frelinghuysen and Governor Raymond 
P. Shafer, “I scem to have had a abil- 
ity of competing with whatever competi- 
tion there was at each level," Ford told 
Hersey, after which he added a sly little 
turn of the screw: “And yet I could have 
enough outside ities to enjoy a 
broader spectrum ol day-today living 
than some of them.” 

Women were among the "outside ac 
tivities" that Jerry enjoyed, though not 
many of them. He applied his universal 
solvent of caution to women, too, and 
his rakish friend Stiles once injudiciously 
blurted to an interviewer, "I think I 
know every girl Jerry ever slept with," 


implying that there have been no more 
than fi nd possibly as few as three in 
all Ford's 63 years. The President whose 
voice breaks when he speaks of his close 
and devoted family is also the Congress- 
man who regularly averaged 200 out-of- 
town trips a year and left his wife at 
home to ¢ the kids, skirting alcohol- 
ism and incipient nervous breakdown 
along the way. Ford fell head over heels 
for a woman only once in his 
her name wasn’t Betty Bloomer, 
all her charms, her hard credentials were 
precisely suited to his ambitions in the 
days when he was a fledgling golden boy. 

Phyllis Brown was a student at Con- 
necticut College in New London when 
Ford turned up at Yale. Everyone who 
knew her in those early days remembers 
her as a raving beauty with a sparkling 
personality and a mischievous wit (she 
“seemed to have the kind of personali 
that Ford admired and missed ii 
self," TerHorst writes with uni 
cruelty). Ford pursued her 
after Connecticut, when she went to the 
Big Apple and became a Powers model 
she even persuaded him to invest $1000 
of his gs from his Yale coaching 
salary of 52400 a year in a modeling 
agency her friend Harry Conover was 
opening in New York. The 51000 made 
him a silent partner; it also bought him 
a flash of limelight that his sensitized 
vanity could well have done without. 
The public learned of the Phyllis 
Brown-Jerry Ford courtship in а 
picture spread in Look magazine 
March 1940, a spread Conover 
Brown probably placed, а spr 
playing the Beautiful People 
through a skiing weekend at Stowe, 
Phyllis and Jerry schussing down the 
400-yard slope, Jerry rubbing Phyllis 
back on a flowered couch in the lounge 
at the inn, Phyllis and Jerry falling 
asleep on the couch afterward. discreetly 
head to foot, Jerry kissing а blanket 
wrapped Phyllis goodbye as the 
pulled into New Haven on Monday 
mori . With the coyness that in 1940 
passed for titillation, the photos and cap- 
tions imply that Phyllis and Jerry spent 
their nights together as well as their days 
and no doubt they did. Later, they turned 
up on the cover of Cosmopolitan, Jerry 
in his Naval uniform, to signify that 
Beautiful People also go off to war. 

Phyllis and Jerry went steady for four 
years, and he was obviously keen to 
marry her, because he took her back to 
Grand Rapids and up to the Ford cot- 
tage on Lake Michigan to check her out 
with the folks; but something soured the 
atch along the w d, unhappy with 
its profits, Jerry withdrew from the agency 
and presumably from Phyllis as well. “1 
only had one serious romance," he told 
“other than the one I had with 
—the phrasing of the statement 
awards Betty a qualified second place— 


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“but it didn't work out. So 1 just forgot 
ij 100 much interested in mar- 
Which recalls Mark Twain's story 
ned its lesson too 


right down, and so it learned not to g 
up on hot stoves—but after that it 
wouldn't get up on cold stoves neither- 
ord spent the summer of 1940 work- 
n New York for Wendell Willkie's 
Like Jerry, Will- 
an isolationist in those cautious 
years, but his campaign seems to 
attracted Jerry for reasons of strategy 
than philosophy; Willki 
Midwestern Republican with boyish good 
looks and a hearty, energetic style who 
was taking on no less formidable an op- 
ponent thin Franklin Delano Roosevelt. 
an entrenched behemoth whom all good 
Republicans despised who was seeking 
unprecedented. third term. Ford 
ms he wasn't seriously interested. in 
ics until after the wı but his ex- 
rience with the Willkie campaign 
‘ly confirmed his political am 
and precipitated the split with 
Phyllis. Ambitious for her modeling са- 
reer, she wouldn't have wanted to give 
up New York for Grand Rapids, Jerry's 
logical political base; and confronted 
with a choice of politics or love, Jerry 
chose politics hands down. He watched 
Willkie beat Roosevelt in Michigan by 
7000 votes of more than 2,000,000 cast, 
ad in 1941 he packed up and went home 
to open a Grand Rapids law office with 
his old friend Philip Buchen, and Phyllis 
lost the chance she might have had, as- 
suming she was equipped to survive the 
3 leaden intervening years, to become 
the First Lady of the land. What Jerry 
thought of New York, and New York 
bitions, and people who take his in- 
vestment money but fail 10 return. him 
unqualified love, the nation found out 


PLAYBOY 


e маз a 


later, when the city slickers went down 
to Washington erying imminent default 
and the President coldly offered them 


bankruptcy in return and would have 
iven them no aid at all but for more 
onable counsel from his advisor 
primary fuel of his indignation was 
judice. but who 


Phyllis and his distaste for Rockefeller's 
Ithy authority may have had 

Back from the war, Jerry moved im- 
mediately to enter politics. By 1947, he was 
ly to challenge isolationist Republican 
Bartel J. Jonkman for Michigan's Filth 
Congressional District seat, The primary 
results proved Jonkman’s vulnerability: 
Ford won the Republican. nomination 
23,632 to 14,341. He went on to win the 
general election by more than 27,000 
votes. 

So Jerry Ford became a Congressman, 
ting with the freshman class of 
are 435 Congressmen in 
212 the House of Representatives, and on a 


national scale theirs are no more than 
the outer slums of elective and appoi 
office, but the House was the culm 
tion of Jerry's ambition—he dreamed of 
becoming Speaker one day—and secure 
within its crowd, team player first and 
last, he took no risks whatever with his 
his seniority. 

Ford's strategy for keeping his job w 
a masterwork of pure delense. Like Gaul, 
it was divided into three parts: 

1. Please the folks back home. 
fellow Congressme 
Vote the party line. 

To please the folks back home, Ford 
set up one of the most elficient distr 
serving systems Washington had ever 

It kept him in office through 
ades of political tumult and national 
cataclysm, even after the grateful citizens 
of Grand Rapids and its environs had 
moved far to their Pre-Cambrian Con- 
s political left. “The conscrv 
tive nd Rapids,” Ford told 

porters when he became Vice-President. 
"Forget Grand Rapids.” Not so. As soon 
as he unglued himself from the Fifth 
its voters elected a Democrat. 

Ford was the resident House expert on 
the fine print of Defense budgets, a useful 
assistance but hardly an example of states- 

ike watchdogging, because Jerry was, 
and is, so bloodthirsty a champion of n 
tional defense that he is the last person 
likely 10 have led а movement to cut the 
budgets he so assiduously studied, and 
never did. In 25 yea 
fact, he introduced not one pi 
legislation of any kind, 
double and doubly dreary significance: 
that he never felt the necessity or the 
conviction to do so and that he let othe: 
legislators take the credit, 
himsell the resulting favor ch 

When Congress studied. confirming 
him for the. Vice. Ford pro- 
duced gente reminders of his virtues 
ailored to the tastes of cach body. "I 
said over in the Senate that truth is the 
glue that holds governments together," 
he told the House Judiciary Committee. 
For the House's benefit, he added, "Com- 
promise is the oil that makes govern- 
ments go.” 

So in addition to compromise, Ford 

mpaigned. He stumped tirelessly, help- 
ing party and fellow Congressmen and 


эсс! 


record with 


Presidency, 


himself, spe: 
anyone asked 1 


trips in one season, but he averaged hun- 
dreds every yea apher Bud 
Vestal reports his typical schedule: 


Rise early, go to the Capitol at 
seven A.M. or so and do olfice work, 
receive visitors, confer with Repub- 
lican associates, attend committee 
hearings. Noon: Attend convening 
of the House, stay awake during de- 
e or confer with cronies in the 
hall on upcoming major business. 
b a briefcase 


with work papers and a speech text, 
a plastic garment bag with a change 
of suit and shirt, nd rush to Wash- 
ington National Airport to fly to the 
speaking engagement. Make speech. 
Fly home. at one A.M 
relaxing swim in the pool. Sleep five 
or six hours, then repeat. 


Loyalty and good fellowship had their 
slow rewards, extending finally ло the 
Presidency itself, Richard Nixon alone 
didn't put Jerry Ford in the White House, 
his confirmation required the complicity 
of the Congress in which he served. Some 
of us laughed when Jerry Ford sat down 
at the piano, but пу man better 
placed to receive the fust Presidential 
appointment in the history of the United 
States? His “lifestyle of deference," as 
Representative Michael Harrington de- 
scribed it to the House committee, paid 
olf slowly, but ultimately it paid off big 

He was elected chairman of the House 
Republican Conference because Repub- 
licans thought him a deserving, harmless 
nice guy; he became House Minority 
Leader by the same default, "The prag- 
matic reason was that Fo able 
said Representative Robert Griffin of the 
first occasion; “Jerry got along with all 
segments of the party.” 

“It wasn't as though everybody was 
wildly enthusiastic about Jerry. 1 
Representative Charles Goodell of the 
second; "it was just that most Republi- 
cans liked him and respected him. He 
didn't have ene 

1 had nothing to lose,” Ford told biog- 
pher Richard Reeves, “I could have 
kept шу House seat ful 

t anyone 

nated Ford for the Vice-Presidency to a 
more nefarious purpose. knowing a nasty 
ке whi but his estimate of 
Congress’ sense of humor was for once set 
too high. And even Congress had its 
doubts. Consistently, in testimony before 
its committees, Congressional 1 
pressed their embarrassed hopes that Jer- - 
ry would somehow grow in office. Which 
implies that in their experienced opinion 
the man had a lot of growing to do. 

“Oh, Гат sure 1 made some mistakes,” 
Ford told the House committee touchily 
near the conclusion of his testimony, when 
Democrat Don Edwards pushed. "I said 
[to the Senate] 1 was по saint and I will 
repeat it here.” Meaning push me only so 
far. "But no serious major mistakes. 
Meaning push me no farther. 

А new text for civics disses, the 
ious major mistakes. Cover yc 
ass and lie low. 


Hers ex- 


no 
sweet 


If Gerald Ford were no more than а 
mediocre, calculating politician in a field 
of similarly disfigured men, we would still 
have reason for revulsion. Because, good 
football player and eagle scout that he 
he has rum his scrimmages from first to last 
dutifully by the playbook our officialdom 


“For gosh sakes, Alice, the prohibition amendment only refers to alcohol." 


213 


PLAYBOY 


214 


prescribes. He believes himself to be, 
and thousands of pages of raw FBI 
files got up for his Vice-Presidential con- 
firmation attest him, a completely honest 
man within the limitations of the rules. 
He never fudged his campaign receipts, 
never bought or sold inordinate influence, 
never tok bribes, never called the 
plumbers. never cheated on his taxes, 
never even screwed the secretaries and 
the political groupies whom crowds of 


Congressmen and lines of Presidents have 
gered to their fill. His conservatism, in 


ts origins at least, is as philosophically 
spectable as the conservatism of many 
l men. 


r 
more ration 
Like many other men 


n American hi 
tory, Thomas Jefferson included, Ford 
professes his faith in the natural man and 
his suspicion of government. He believes 
in the untrammeled virtues of the profit 
motive. He believes success rewards hard 
work. He believes that men are every- 
where better than they should be. More 
coldly, he believes that poverty is a mark 
of laziness and race а disadvantage any 
nbitious man can overcome. It is a pl 
losophy that congealed in America in 
the years before 1920, about the same 
time that the nation was viciously dis- 
enfranchising the Amei сто and 
ig off immigration of the less than 
white populations of southern Europe 
and Asia, and it has changed hardly at 
Ш in the cataclysmic years since. Spe- 
cifically, and despite his subsequent edu- 
cation and experience, Ford has changed 
hardly at all since childhood; the only 
опе of his childhood ions he given. 
up is isolationism, and even today he 
favors a cautious internationalism at best, 
coaxed to that by his war 
by the tutoring of Henry Kissinger. 

He is, as Congressman Donald Riegle 
gently labels him. an “ideologue.” А 
‚ to be less gentle than Riegle can 
lord to be and more precise. A true 
iever. Ford believes furiously and his 
rellex of belief is automa! 
Ricgle s in many r 
man. 
ideologue, 
not a problem solver. He's more of a traf- 
fic cop. He has a boxed-vision problem. 
He's not in touch with that huge part of 
erent from what he's 


in touch, but the 
rowe of his contact runs down through 
the psychic basement, where the contraries 
crawl. Much as he craves its honor, its 
love, its obedience, its troops of friends, 
Gerald Ford thinks America an evil place 
and, to his bewilderment and frantic inner 
turmoil, it terrifies him. 

‘These are painful regions to enter, 
deserving more of pity than of contempt. 
Let's descend slowly, putting the personal 
evidence before the general. 


The high office that I hold is not 
the most important thing in my life. 


"This is a great responsibility and a 
glorious privilege. And I love the 
political life. But the most important 
accomplishment of my life, as 1 see 
it, is being the husband of my wife 
and the father of my children. 


What should we make of such con- 
fession? Knowing that Jerry Ford docs 
believe his high office to be the most 
portant thing in his lifc? Knowing that 
he sacrificed his wife's health and hi 
dren's well-being to it for 25 years? 
The words are wnaccountably turned 
around. "Love" Ford applies to "the 
political life"; "accomplishment" he ap- 
plies to marriage and fatherhood, which 
are hardly accomplishments, which 


pressing guilty gratitude that his 
stayed the long and unrewarding course 
or merely politically acceptable bushwa, 
or is there subtler stuff here? 

There is. Imagine the statement to be 
a dream that asks interpretation. In his 
dream, this ordinary man is transported 
without announcement or campaign to 
the Pre ppearing before the 
cameras on the White House lawn, in 
the surreal Washington dream light, he 
proclaims to the world that he's glad to 
be President, love won him that, but his 
greatest achievement is to have been a 
husband and a father. We'll have to run 
that through the decoder, turn it back 
ound. It means, among other things, 
that Ford can't believe he's man enoug! 
to be President and fears we can't, either. 
He proposes to display the credentials of 
his manhood, and since propriety won't 
allow him to flash the crowd, he moves 
on to credentials more socially acceptable: 
An adult woman once consented t0 marry 
him and upon her he has fathered chil- 
dren. There, you disbelievers (and there, 
you soprano voice of disbelief within the 
dreamer, you child forlorn), how's that 
for proof? 

Elizabeth Bloomer was born in Ch 
on April 8, 1918, making her not quite 
five years younger than her future hus 
band Gerald Ford. Her father was а 
who moved his family 
nd Rapids when Betty was two. 
Nothing about her childhood survives in 
the record. except the signal notice that 
she began studying dance when she was 
cight and gave it her undivided attention 
until she was at least 25. Her father died 
when she was 16. During her adolescence, 
she spent two summers studying dance 
Bennington, met Martha Graham there 
and so idolized her that she wanted to 
go directly to her New York dance group 
from high school Martha Graham at 
one extreme, Betty's mother, Hortense 
Bloomer, at the other, were the two poles 
of her youth, Martha Graham 
dance, a career in. New York, possible 
me—at the cost, the great dancer told 
Betty, of giving up marriage and family. 
Hortense Bloomer meant the values of 


me: 


Hortense convinced her daughter to 
detour through two years at Bennington. 
Betty did, but after that, she went to New 
York and the Martha Graham Concert 
Group and work as а Powers model and 
friends in Greenwich Village and per- 
formance at Carnegie Hall. The time 
came to make up her mind. Her mother 
suggested she return to Grand Rapids 
for six months and think it over. Betty 
did and chose, at what cost only she 
knows, to forgo her career. She married a 
named William Warren, a traveling 
salesman as her father had been, She went 
to work as a fashion coordinator lo 
department store and did her dancing on 
the side. The marriage failed, the divorce 
becoming final in the autumn of 1947. 
She decided never to marry again. Not 
ore than a month or two later, Jerry 
Ford asked her out. She liked his positive 
attitude and his reassurance. she said 
later, which might indicate that she wa 
depressed. People usually are after a di 
vorce. She liked his "drive to perfection, 
a drive she compared ıo Martha Gra- 
ham’s, “only for him it was first football 
then his work.” Impulsively, she changed 
her mind about marriage. "So far as 1 
was concerned, that firs date was it" 
Jerry, in turn, ce у saw her as 
other Powers model and accomplished 
beauty, а replacement for Phyllis Brown 
who had already made the decision Phyl- 
Brown refused: who had gone back to 
ad Rapids and given up New York. 
nd Jerry were married a year laten 
on October 15, 1948, between Jerry's 
primary and general Congressional elec- 
tions. He waited until after the primary 
because he was afraid Betty's past would 
become a campa She was a 
dancer and divorced. 


Gr 
Bett 


second marriage? She seems to have е 
pected a m of convenience—not 
celibate but not passionate, cither—tha 
might lead to position and acclaim. She 
didn't know, when Jerry proposed to her, 
that he was planning to run for С 
gress, but she knew he had financial 
promise and political ambitions, might 
possibly become famous someday, and 
she knew she was the smarter of the two. 
She must have noticed his reticence about 
women, sensed she wouldn't be domi- 
nated by him. She was “provoked” whe 
she found out he'd kept his Congres- 
sional ambitions from her but delighted. 
at the prospect, nonetheless. "You won't 
ever have to worry about other зоте 
brother Tom Ford's wife told her, 
cause Jerry is married to his work. 

Jack Stiles put it more blundy: “If 
you can accept the idea that politics will 
come first and your marriage second, if 
you can live with that, then I think 
you'll have a good marriage; you'll make 
a good team in Washington." The 


advice was redundant: She already knew. 
"Those were the terms of the emotional 
contract they signed. Jerry and Betty 
were married on a Friday afternoon. The 
next day, Jerry took her to a University 
of Michigan football game. Then they 
drove 75 miles to a Republican recep- 
tion and another 75 miles to a. Detroit 
hotel. On Sunday, they drove all the way 
back to Grand Rapids, 150 miles on 1947 
highways. so Jerry could resume cam- 
paigning on Monday morning. Such 
were their honeymoon days. 

She became a loyal and dutiful wife, 
but as the years ground on without fame 
or fortune, the arrangement rankled. 
The man was never home, the children 
were hard to handle, the Fords were un- 
known. She drank too much. popped 
tranquilizers, developed a psychosomatic 
pain in her neck. Too tough to collapse, 
she went to see a. psychiatrist. What her 
husband couldn't win by diligence he 
then won by default, but the Vice- 
Presidency still left her stuck at home. 
1 want him to retire from one office to 
another,” she told an interviewer during 
the Vice-Presidential days, "not even 
come home for lunch and bother the 
household." And again: "I can’t see the 
two of us going off alone. We'd probably 
Kill each other. We'd get so bored with 
cach other. I wouldn't know how to act. 
nally, the Presidency brought re 
ward, She turned it to good use in the 
historic and important. cause of fem 
nism, speaking out at last for her lost € 
reer. She also turned it to advantage 
with her husband. using calculated indis- 
cretion to bend him to her views. “Clear 
ly intrigued with a plus she never 
Knew before,” wrote Myra MacPherson 
in McCall's, “she mentions the word 
‘power’ more than once." 

“IE he doesn’t get [the message] in the 
office in the day.” Betty said. "he gets it 
in the ribs at night.” She claimed credit 
for Carla Hill's promotion to the Cab 
inct; she worked on a female appoint- 
ment to the Supreme Court. Knowing 
she is finally in a position 10 do him 
great political mischief, the First Lady 
flicks at the President in public inter- 
views as а confident trainer might Ilic 
at a reluctant bear. though lately, during 
the Presidential campaign, she has kept 
her opinions to herself. They sleep to- 
gether, she told McCall's, shivering her 
husband's toes, "as often as possible. 
If her daughter didn't save her virginity 
for marriage. she would understand. 
Ford said that one could cost him 
20.000,000 vores. She has campaigned. 
to his great discomfort. for the ERA and 
abortion on demand. She made a point 
of moving their bed into the White House 
and insisting that they share the same 


bedroom, but it isn't the kingsized bed 


the press reported. It’s two twins pushed 
side by side. Separate sheets and blankets, 


separate estates. In photographs, we 
see her jumping onto his lap and 


Alive with pleasure! 


Newport 


if smoking isn't 
a pleasure, 
why bother? 


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


215 


PLAYBOY 


216 ades younger than he and his appe: 


aggressively mussing his hair, pushing 
him fully dothed into the family pool, 
stepping in front of him when he stands 
to speak. She's not engaged in bla 
She's collecting reparations for 
atrocities of neglect he committed along 
the w; 

She and Martha Graham finally got 
together again. It’s refreshing; it’s also 
a measure of Jerry's vulnerability to 
my open discussion of sexuality, an 
indication that he is an inhibited man. 
nd slecping." he likes to repe; 
ferring to two of the most 
nt rituals around that men and 
women share with intimacy, “are a waste 
of time.” Which is a position even a mis- 
sionary might find dull 
If there is comedy in the spectacle of 
President so skillfully manipulated by 
his wife, theres no comedy at all-in 
Ford's iron self-control. 

Only once im that long carecr did 
Jerry's anger come out publicly, and 
the caldron thus uncovered was witch's 
brew. The occasion was a speech de 
cred from the floor of the House of Rep- 
resentatives on April 15, 1970, calling 
mpeachment of Supreme Court 
ат О. Douglas. Ford has 
he was primarily ol- 

moonlighting 
as-based org 


import 


for the 


nded by Douglas" 
rector of a Las Ve 
called the Parvin 
real motives he exp 


ined to Hersey last 
he told Hersey, 
ions, and his mar- 
ed life was diflerent than most. . . . 
And then this famous Evergreen publica- 
tion came out, a very ill-advised article 
by the Justice in a n zine that I think. 
is pornographic by amy standards. Aud 
that upset те... . I suspect it was the 
one thing 0 а bit out of charac 
tacking a public fig- 
ure directly and being upset were out of 
character. His hostility toward Douglas, 
d what Douglas represented. was not 
out of character, It was consistent with 
his record. 

The Douglas attack has bee: 
reported and understudied. Ford is usu- 
ally charged with playing patsy or clever 
hod carrier for the Nixon Administra- 
tion, which was seeking revenge because 
the Senate refused to confirm two of its 
Supreme Court nomi Judges 
Clement. Haynsworth old Cars- 
well, and the charge is partly truc. The 
Justice Department under John Mitchell 
fed Ford raw FBI files that ii 
ed Douglas, through paranoid, 
removed connections, with the 
world of Las Vegas godfathers, ‘files that 
were incorporated almost verbatim into 
the House speech, implications that were 
later thoroughly discredited. But Ford's 
own memory demonstrates what really 


over- 


bothered him about Justice Douglas: 
Douglas’ liberal Supreme Court deci- 


sions, his habit of in; 


rying women dec- 
rance 


as an author in Avant Garde and Ever- 
green Revicw. 

If these are crimes, they are crimes of 
а remarkably personal nature, and surely 
they are adequately covered by the Bill 
of Rights, which William О. Doug! 
much as any man in the history of the 
Court had labored to defend. Yet they 

ncensed. Jerry to the point of throwing 
off, for the first and so far the only time 
in his long career, his mask of bonhomie 
The three foundations for his attack were 
sex. money and corruption in the West. 
Do those themes recall to you something 
n Jerry's past? What other angry stories 
of a man from the West who prefers 
younger women and who seems to have 
money from mysterious transactions does 
Jerry tell? Liberalism, sexual or civil, 
enrages Jerry Ford; the Douglas attack 
in all its clumsy viciousness registers out- 
wardly the inner violence of his response. 

So now at last, knowi Is we 
have come to know of this cleverly dull, 
seemingly ordinary man from С 
Rapids, this sharp undercove 
Gerald Rudolph Ford, the President of 
the United States, we are ready to ask the 
central question: What does Jerry fear? 

He says he fears Big Government. “A 
government big enough to give us every- 
thing we want would be big cnough to 
lake fom us everything we hav 
Jerry's favorite aphorism. But his votes 
as a Congressman and his positions as 
President belie his concern, revealing i 
stead а carefully divided commitment. 
not against Big Government. He’ 
vehemently in favor of Big Government 
n its police and military garb. He's op- 
posed only to Government. beneficence. 
He doesn't think Government should 
help people out. 

Ford is cautious when he speaks of the 
poor. He no more desires to offend them 
than he desires to offend anybody. "T 
happen to think.” he told Hersey, “that 
we should have great opportunity for 
people in this country to get ahead. Hard 
work should be rewarded. I don't think 
people who have had bad breaks should 
be penalized, but І don't think you can 
reward people who don't try." Which is 


mild enough censure, though simple- 
minded. More interesting was his re- 


sponse at his confirmation hearing when 
asked how he would eradicate poverty. 
With the exception of “those people 
who are mentally and physically handi- 
capped." he said in so many words, there 
are only two excuses for poverty: not 
enough jobs and not enough education. 
That some are poor because they arc 
black ot yellow or brown or female, be- 
cause they are victims of discrimination. 
because in poverty they are deprived 
even of the ability to learn, because they 
live in a despair so pervasive that what- 
ever ambition they ma 
has withered to bitter fatalism, the man 
who was about to become President of 
all the people was unwilling to admit. 


What Ford has refused to say, his rec- 
ord says for him. He has not only voted 
to weaken the weak: he has also voted 
further to strengthen the strong. The rec- 
ord of this man carries an ugly load of 
tred: hatred of the poor, hatred of the 
weak, hatred of the disadvantaged. h: 
tred of races other than his own. 

That hatred. in turn. is a product of 
fear Sustained. lifelong fear, because 
to despise the poor and the weak, who 

ly need despising, is secretly to de 

is poor and weak in oneself 

y's case, is the forlorn and 
lonely and angry child he once was. The 
child is the very model of weakness. with 


ing over his head: parents may give the 
child everything he wants. but they may 
also take away from him everything he 
d his rele: from their benevo- 
and their domination comes 
through growth and independence, by 
standing on his own two feet, getting ап 
education and getting a job. So in the 
child) within himself. Jerry found his 
metaphor for Government: in the strug- 
gles waged between his desire to be adult 
nd his unresolved resentment, founded 
more on fantasy than on fact, that he 
was inadequately nurtured and inade 
quately loved as a child. Without this 
hidden catalyst, his vision otherwise 
makes no sense, because as even he knows. 
Government isn't a parent and the poor 
aren't children. The welfare system that 
Jerry coldly works to sabotage pays the 
lowest 8.4 percent of our population а 
grand total of 555 per person per week. 
Disarming our defense budget by even 
one third would do wonders to improve 
that bare subsistence. 

But the poor crowd Jerry's fences like 
a threatening mob. As he attributes 10 
them the dependency of the child he 
once was, so also does he attribute to 
them the anger he once felt and sti 
feels, and thus he conceives the need foi 
protection. Once he kept a child Пот 
his cherry wee by brutally standing on 
her hand: once he found support at thc 
center of a football team: in Congress 
he fussed with the minutiae of the D. 
fense budget, as if he feared to find there 


one last gate left open, one last dec 
weapon "overlooked; always he 
championed defense, violent response. 


overkill. and no mere firing of the uncon 
genial Schlesinger signals that he has di 
fused more than to the slight degree 
necessary to case further détente and 
make himself appear a Nixonian peace- 
maker. When even Lyndon John 
tired of Vietnam. Jerry called for holy 
cause to Americanize and win that wai 
and he was the last man to give up whe 
it failed. Today he warily performs d. 
tente, but woc unto the nation that touch- 
es an American merchant ship: He'll 
trade two of our guys for one of theirs. 
Since he despises a considerable por- 
tion of the American population, it isn't 


surprising that he is perpetually uncer- 
tain of our love. Thus his devotion to 
campaigning—devotion dampened hard- 
ly at all by the continuing threat of as- 
sassination—as if only by almost daily 
excursions to the hustings can he restore 
his flagging self-esteem. If an otherwise 
normal man broke off work to run and 
wash his hands 50 times a day, we would 
understand him to be peculiar; Jerry 
Ford's campaigning is peculiar, too. 
Garry Wills bas called him a campaign 
junkie, and he is, and his fix is the sm 
ing, checring crowd. the same crowd that 
loved him back when family and father 
and fraternity dues were lost. Except for 
sports, which absorb his ange 
paigning is apparently the only thing he 
enjoys. He hates to be alone; he hates 
10 sit at a desk and work: conflict bur- 
dens him, opposition burdens him. dis- 
greement burdens him, decisions burden 
idea of a meaningful 
moving at a 
sharp clip down an endless line of prof- 
fered hands. He can't bear to eat, he 
can't bear to sleep, he can't bear to 
read and apparently he can't even bear 
to think. When he took office as Presi- 
dent, he ordered the action memos to be 
simplified. In Nixon's time, they ar- 
rived with brief lists of options. Ford 
requested a different scheme, two slots 
on the bottom line. “Approve.” he 


cam- 


1 
dialog with 


m; and his 
America is 
n 


could then check, quickly 
through, or “Disapprove —- 
Bearing such hardships, braving such 
internal foes, he is easily cowed and 
easily duped. his Congressional 
years, Ford was the unwitting victim of 
a two-bit slicker out of New York named 
Robert Winter-Berger, who borrowed 
Ford's good name to decorate various 
acts of slapdash chicanery and later re- 
warded his mark by publicly announc- 
ing that Ford took bribes, which he 
doesn't, except when the bribe is the 
Presidency and the payoff is a pardon 
for his criminal predecessor. The House 
committee found the relationship be. 
tween Ford and Winter-Berger disturb- 
ing, and Representative Jerome Waldie 
asked Ford: “If a fellow with such mod- 
est abilities as Winter-Berger can per- 
suade you and compel you to do that 
which you did not want to do. what as. 
surances can you give us that we can be 
comfortable that that seeming weakness 
won't display itself when you are rep: 


passing 


During 


resenting this nation in foreign affairs 
with people from other countries? 
Since he had no assurances to give. 


Ford’s answer was lame, a general appeal 
to the record. “Well, you know, Mr. 
Waldie.” he said, "if that is the only 
mistake I have made in 25 years, it is not 
a very serious one." 

There are far slicker men in the White 


House now than Winter-Berger, and to 
the extent that they are also competent 
we may be grateful, Nixon’s economic 
advisors hang on. determi 
that the proper life of Amer 
poor, nasty. brutish and short: 
feller runs affairs, 
runs defense, 


Rocke 
Rumsfeld 
Kissinger runs the world; 
while in the stillness of the Oval Office, 


domestic 


one on shoulder, bathed in un 
earthly light, Philip Buchen whispers 
ngelics and Robert Hartmann whispers 
diabolics into the sturdy Presidential cars. 
He sleeps little, but sometimes while 
sleeping he dreams. When he was Vice 
President, he dreamed and cried out, 
and by his side Betty heard him and re- 
ported, as for reasons of her own she is 
wont to do. “One night I woke up.” she 
. "and Jerry was talking in his sleep. 
He kept saying “Thank you, thank you 
thank you." He was in a receiving line. 
Zternally grateful, ev ly unsure, 
numb without and angry within, Ford 
blows along that perpetual line in sleep 
and waking, stormed by childhood cares. 
"I didn't vote for him,” people laugh 
these days at parties. We took him for 
little enough—for а gift horse—and he 
is not even that. Haven't you sometimes 
asked scandalous Aristoph- 
ed lil 


seen a cloud, 
anes, that lool 


^ a centaur? 


Jock itch? 


Chafing? Rash? 


©1976 Pharmacraft Consumer Products 


Cruex. 


Aerosol Spray or Squeeze Powder 


l'UE) 


medical н 
Squeeze ромб 


medicated spray ромб 


for 
JOCK ITCH 


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JOCK ITCH 


Prickly neat 


chafing Prickly heat 
chatna 
rte makers ot Denn 
Pre maners of Des 
2 - 
A PROOUCT OF (E BUEWNWALT CORPORATION 


PLAYBOY 


718 


PLAYBOY INTERVIEW (continued from page 80) 


banned from radio stations, why they 
were being drafted into an Army when 
they didn’t want to go out and fight. It 
was a school of the streets, a school of pro- 
test and a technique for communicating 
through the mass media so that people 
would go to the demonstrations in Chica- 
g the 1968 Democratic Conven- 


movement 
s monster 
for you? Didn't the myth become bigger 
than the reali 
HOFFMAN: Yeah. I would show up in Seat- 
tle and there would be 30 Yippiclettes 
greeting me at the airport with FUCK 
written on their foreheads. I made a 
speech in icoln. Park at the end of the 
Chicago demonstrations, saying that Vip- 
pie w Jt was а technique. not 
something I wanted as a movement. But 
the media image was so strong that it 
stuck. And then the trial brought us back 
onto the same stage, in a sense. 

PLAYBOY: You've 1 vou were glad you 
were indicted with the Chicago Seven. 
Why? 

HOFFMAN: I thought the Government 
made a serious mistake in giving us a 
forum through which we could mobilize 
cross sections of the population, includ- 
ing the A.C.L.U, element, in opposition 
to the conspiracy law itself. It’s still on 
the books and it's still the most unjust law 
in the United States. I'm sorry our case 
didn't knock it out; our conviction was 
thrown out because wi a loony judge 


S over. 


LAIN 


and there were wire taps and all kinds of 
other reasons. 


We were in the perfect setting. Chi- 


cago to me was just another Southern 
town like the ones I had worked in my 
is time the enemy 


civilrights days. 
became the court 5 
10 expose its hypocrisies 
‘The system radicalizes the person. It hap- 
pened to me, it happened to Tom Hay- 
den, it happened to everybody. Things 
pile up and first thing you know, you 
are being blamed for a police riot. 
PLAYBOY: You participated in every Dem- 
ocratic Convention from 1964 on, 
you? 

HOFFMAN: Yeah, '64, '68, ‘72 
PLAYBOY: What w 
HOFFMAN: Let's talk 
PLAYBOY: Why do you want to skip 72? 
HOFFMAN: I was lost. I didn't know what 
1 was doing. 

PLAYBOY: You expect us to believe that? 
HOFFMAN: I'm always lost. You haves 
driven around with me on a dark night. 
I get lost a lot; I'm an absent-minded 
fugitive. 

In 72, I thought that supporting Mc- 
Govern was the quickest way of ending 
the war in Vietnam. Well, the 
ай: an шоган 
showed a lack of idealism; fre 
it was all downhill. McGo: 
bitter, so wiped out by the defe; 
who woukln't be? He knew things the 
American public didn't know. He said 


w: 


“Ви! our secret ingredient is large quantities 
of Hilberg beer." 


Nixon's was the most repressive Admin- 
istration since Hitlers. Some people 
thought he was a fucking nut, A year 


later, he was a Jeane Dixon. 

PLAYBOY: Are you going to make it to 
the 1976 Democratic Convention? 

К II accept a draft. Me and Hu- 
ber Humphrey. I met him once in 
Miami in 1972. He said to me, "You 
made some good points there in Chic 
go." and I replied, "You were the point. 
1 also asked him what drugs he liked—he 
was a druggist, you know. 

PLAYBOY: What do you think of Gerald 
Ford? 

HOFFMAN: He's a fucking bimbo, All that 
flashes in my mind is pictures of him 
falling down and bumping his face. Eve 
in that famous picture of him, where he 
posed cooking his own breakfast, I don't 
know if you noticed, but he was marma- 
the wrong side of his English 


muffin, 

PLAYBOY: Do you think he'll be elected? 
Sad choice. Reagan certainly 
chance to knock him out. 1 think 
ill be Reagan versus Humphrey. 
PLAYBOY: Who do you pick to win? 
HOFFMAN: Humphrey. Tell me again 
about American democracy. run it dow 
After 200 years, one of the world’s great- 
est criminals is shooting golf in San Cle- 
mente with more estates than the king of 
France had. And the second-in-command 
now is the butcher of Attica, Rockefeller. 
I think the person who wins is the опе 
who gets Ше most money. It’s a buy 
The United States has the same perce 
age of millionaires as the Roman seri 
had. Everybody grew up to be president 
PLAYBOY: What docs the Roman senate 
have to do with anything 
HOFFMAN: Just that the people of the 
Third World are going to be the Visigoths 
to the Holy U.S. Empire. The fall of 
igon was the end of the American Em- 
pire. It lasted 199 years and that’s enough. 
When an empire falls, it’s at its most 
brutal. Almost all the Jews Hitler. killed 
were from 1944 on. They wanted to get 
rid of the evidence. 
PLAYBOY: We're not sure 
ову, bur let's talk about America's fu- 
ture and your role in it. Assuming you 
stay underground, what purpose will you 
be serving? 

HOFFMAN: I want to help create 
ment that serves the needs of the people, 
not only in this country but throughout 
the world. I don't believe change is going 
to come peacefully in the United States, 
not without conspiring with anti-imperial- 
ist forces abroad. We need a truc Com- 
mui Party in the United. States—one 
that knows how to reach people. And be- 
cause of infiliration and harassment, we 
have to build that party secretly. "There's 
no other choice. American democracy 
serves those who don't need it. People yell 


c 


bout the anal- 


govern- 


about taxes and about cutting welfare, but 
10? billion dollars went to the Pentagon 
this year. That's more than all the people 
in South America earn. 
So I’m helping to build an underground 
network in the United States that will last 
a number of years and will be used in 
different ways, depending on the political 
climate. War is built in to this society 
and as cach war comes along, more and 
more progressive people will resist it. 
Thats why an underground will be 
necded. 
PLAYBOY: Are you really a Communist, 
Abbie, or is that just another label to 
provoke pcople? 
HOFFMAN: I'm a full-fledged Commie; bet- 
ter Red than dead. I think everybody 
oughta say they're a Communist. Like 
my grandmother, she's a great Comm 
Anybody who can keep a secret for 50 
years is a good Commie. But it ain't no 
secret anymore; I'm telling. The people 
who should come out of their closets now 
с the Communists. If so was а 
Communist, what is Dave Dellinger? If 
Vanessa Redgrave is a Communist, what 
is Jane Fonda? It’s here, why hunt for 
it all over the world? 
PLAYBOY: How about you? How good a 
Communist are you? 
HOFFMAN: As a Commie, I'm not that 
good. Like I say, it's my upbringing. I've 
had a macho, gambler, hustler American 
upbringing. Nobody's perfect. 
te. With blacks you say, Look, there 
are 16 of you niggers sitting there in a 
bathtub and there's this guy up on the 
hill living alone with 16 bathtubs. That's 
how you organize black Communists. 
With whites you need psychoanalysis. 
You say, You want happiness? A worth- 
while life? 
PLAYBOY: If you're not great as a Com- 
munist, how are you as а revolutionary? 
HOFFMAN; I'm a little queasy about using 
the word revolutionary about myself, be- 
cause it has so many implications. I'm a 
social activist. Мом people—especially 
the intellectual community—call you a 
revolutionary only when you're dead. A 
social activist can be alive and, more than 
that, he can be a personality. 
PLAYBOY: Would the Weather Under- 
ground agree with that? 
HOFFMAN: Onc of my criticisms of the 
Weather Underground. is that it hasn't 
been personalized enough. It draws its 
models from abroad—such as the Viet- 
amese—and downplays the individual 
1 favor of the collective. You can't apply 
that to America. America is a land of 
soap operas and the Weather Under- 
ground should become a soap opera. The 
5.L.A. did it, but the S.L.A. wasn't strong 
cnough to withstand the pressure and got 
sucked into the soap opera itself. 
ОГ course, it's dangerous, putting forth 
our persenality the way I do, because it 


m also 


opens you up to incredible criticism оп 
the part of your comrades on the left 
Most of them wouldn't do an interview 
for pLaynoy—they'd have to go through 
all sorts of things, such as, What does it 
mean and how docs one justify it? The 
Weather Underground has a correct an; 
ysis of American history, but it has to 
broaden it to the masses. The members 
have to start translating their communica- 
tions into the American language. They 
can't speak in a foreign language and 
they can't speak with foreign experience. 
PLAYBOY: Won't these remarks get you 
into trouble with other people on the 
left? Isn't it considered bad form to crit- 
icize other radical leaders in public? 
HOFFMAN: It used to be considered bad to 
criticize movement leaders and, in fact, 
there was a strong antileader trend. 1 
don't have that view now. I believe there 
are leaders. І remember Bob Dylan 
line, "Don't follow leaders / watch thc 
parkin! meters.” Well, thats a pretty 
icking dumb thing. You follow a park- 
ing meter, you get a bump on the head. 
Jt wasn't until recently that I accepted 
the fact that I was а leader. 

Leaders have a responsibility and tha 
to lead. But being a leader doe 
you any more important than bci 
dishwasher. The left will succeed only 
when it develops more anger for the sys- 
tem than it docs for the people who hap 
pen to be sitting in the same room. 1 
think that was the major fault with the 
movement, though 1 think it's changing 
now. 

PLAYBOY: How is it changing? 

HOFFMAN: The underground has gone 
through a faddish phase. There have been 
movies about it and certainly there's great 
fascination with Patty Hearst. That 
should be capitalized on to put forth the 
political message—and 1 think it will. 
They should take advantage of it. I 
didn't come here with a set dictum that 
as thought out by my group. I don't 
lave set answers, 1 answer questions as 
they come to me, right on the spot, and 
people can sense that. It makes good 
reading, it gets the message out, and I 
think there are other fugitives who are 
capable of doing it even better than 1 am. 
PLAYBOY: Perhaps, but one of your chief 
strengths has always been your ability to 
use, and often manipulate, the media 
Even though you're underground, aren't 
you still doing that—by doing this inter- 
view, for instance? 

HOFFMAN: You know, you have to render 
unto Caesar when you deal with the press. 
When 1 did that show for public televi- 
sion, I viewed myself as the director and 


conuoller. In this interview, i don't. But 
"5 а chance I have to take. Someone 
else will direct this, and it's me who 


may be used. As far as my being success- 


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was censored and ended up on the cutting- 
room floor. 

PLAYBOY: Bur still, whether or not you 
are censored, it draws attention to you. 
HOFFMAN: Sure, it’s the Zen technique 
that’s so popular in motorcycle repair 
shops. You stimulate the opposition to 
react so that it overpowers itself, be- 
comes its own enemy, and you escape in 
the process. It's the same technique we 
used in Chicago during the demonstra- 
tions. And it’s true that I've studied the 
technique. You have to learn to commu- 
You study your environment—in 
this case, the electronic jungle of the 
United States—just the мау a Latin- 
American revolutionary studies the back 
streets of Buenos Aires or а Vietnamese 
studies the jungles of Indochina. You 
п your terrain and how to use it. 
PLAYBOY: When do you think you've been 
used by the media? 

HOFFMAN: They tried. When I did that 
Mery Grillin show—the one where they 
cut me off the screen for wearing a flag 
shirt—they got so many complaints they 
wanted. to get oll the hook, So they of 
fered me $2000 to sit in the audience a 
couple of nights later. The idea was that 
Mery was going to say something and get 
blipped. then the camera would pan 10 
me in the audience, laughing. They were 
going to make a joke out of the whole 
sue. ОГ course, I rejected that; it would 
have been co-optation. It’s an illustration 
of repressive tolerance, bert Mar- 
cuse described it, which means that Amer- 
tains the illusion of freedom of 
speech, But 1 wanted to make the point 
that the Merv G show was an exam- 
ple of electronic [ascism—and let it lie 
there. [A spokesman for Merv Grillin de- 
nies that any such offer was made.—Ed.] 
PLAYBOY: So cven with the splash you've 
m media, you don't think 
there's freedom of speech or of the press? 
HOFFMAN: Well, there's that old. saying 
s no тшу free speech because 
you don't want someone yelling “Fire! 
crowded theater. And I always said 
free speech is yelling “Theater!” at 
a crowded fire. But thats one of those 
things that’s fun in college discussions, 
not in real Tile. Л n illusion that 
the press is free because it gives equal 
time to liberals and conservatives and 
every once in a while you throw in an ex 
tremist for human interest. But the press 
never really gives you a debate. Is never 
defined. in terms of communism versus 
capitalism, or of i 


PLAYBOY 


H 


There's 


ism versus the 
We watched the 
years not as the rul- 
ag class in Amer sus the Viet- 
mese people but as our culture. versus 
e evil force of communism. So it was 

always loaded, It is still loaded—in. An- 

gola, for instance. The madmen who run 

the Pentagon will do anything to pre- 
229 vent the spread of communism and the 


media tag along like it was 1964 and the 
Gulf of Tonkin. The M.P.L.A. in Angola 
is always referred to as “Soviet-backed.” 
The two other groups are termed “pro- 
Westem” when n fact, both conta 
Socialist elements. 

‘The media manipulate everything from 
start to finish. Take the selection of news: 
What makes news in America? І turned 
on the TV set and some guy in Kan- 
s had murdered his family and blown 
his brains out. Now, I know Ameri 
makes people crazy. Thats the one thing 
I've learned, going around the cou 
that people are miserable, unhappy. Why 
should it be news that someone 
some people? That's to keep the popu 
tion on edge, anxiety prone. I better not 
take a risk, P better stay alert, I better 
stay off the streets, because look how 
crazy my neighbors are, Why isn’t there 
news that helps people psychically, chat 
builds spirit and optimism. instead of 
cynicism and despair and anxiety? 
PLAYBOY: How about you? Are you anxi 
ety prone, paranoid? 

HOFFMAN: No. But fcar is different from 
paranoia, 1 a realistic fear. If I 
open the wrong door, I'm gonna end up 
a cage in Attica. 

PLAYBOY: But suppose there were three 
FBI agents outside your door and they 
were pounding on it with rifle butts— 
what would you do? 

HOFFMAN: Well, you have to be specific 
with these kinds of questions. F 
all. there wouldn't be three. They're 
like nuns; they come in pairs. 

PLAYBOY: All right, two FBI agents. Wh: 
would you do? 

HOFFMAN: Hmmmm. Have they eaten? 
PLAYBOY: Come on, seriously, Abbie. They 
burst on you—what action do you 
ke? 

HOFFMAN: Well, 
their release could be перо! 
thing we do is jump them 
up ina bag, you know. 
PLAYBOY: You med, we presume, for 
scll-defense. 

HOFFMAN: I’m armed. I have two arms . . - 
two feet. 
PLAYBOY: What we're getting at is the 
possibility of your being taken. Would 
you rather die than go to ў 
HOFFMAN: Depends on how much time I'd 
have to spend there. 

PLAYBOY: How about ten years? 

HOFFMAN: Oh, my God. No, ten is out. 
PLAYBOY: Five years? 

HOFFMAN: You're getting closer. Any 
chance you could become governor of 
New York in the next decade or so? 
PLAYBOY: Not likely. If you could choose 
your way of dying, what would it be? 
HOFFMAN: | uscd to imagine Richard 
Nixon losing his temper and suangling 
But I think 


I think the terms of 
ted. First 
nd tie "em 


me on national television. 


Eric Sevarcid would be a better choice, 
because he stands for all that’s true and 
rational. If he blew his cool and leaped 
over his desk to strangle me, everyone 
in America would find out what I already 
know—that he's always naked from the 
waist down. I've been to the CBS studio 
and seen it, So il I could make him show 
his pecker and hairy white legs on iele- 
sion while he strangled me—yeah, he'd 
be much better for the role than Nixon. 
PLAYBOY: Are your fantasies of death dif- 
ferent now? 

HOFFMAN: My fantasy today is to die in 
some sort of struggle. but preferably at 
the age of 110. Of course, if that door 
opens just now and it ain't room 
service. ` 
PLAYBOY: What would you say to pcople 
who claim that because you were driven 
underground, the Government won and 
you lost? 

HOFFMAN: То me, the issue has always 
been defined in terms of hide-and-seck— 
nd Fm on the loose. You know what 
Chè Guev id, that he was looking 
for one person to carry the flag, just one 
person. And Ché is the saint of Latin 
America. After the Virgin of Guadalupe, 
is—at least it's some virgin. I get my 
merican virgins mixed up. 

And you feel you're that one 
flag curier? Aren't vou romanticizing 
this underground life of yours? 

HOFFMAN: It's sure not as glamorous as an 
okl George Raft movie. Well, I've gotten 
a new lile, which most people don't have 
а chance at. But I don’t advise just any- 
one to go underground. The secret to 
staying underground is to avoid your own 
style, to avoid your own heart. There're 
two pars to living underground; for 
people like me who have to go under, it 
is a diflerent choice than for people who 
go under voluntarily. And there are a 
lot of those people around. They perform 
an incredibly valuable service. But look, 
here's why I did this interview: The me- 
dia, the system tell you, “Go back to sleep, 
America, nothing сап be done about any- 
thing. Just go back to sleep and m 
if you're lucky, you'll wake up and things 
will be a lite better than before.’ 

Shit. This going underground сап be 
done. This is nothing. You got to have 
been chased by the Ku Klux Klan through 
Mississippi at five A.M. without a road 
ying to play someone from Ten- 
nessee who's just visiting. That's trouble. 
^s what the me 


don’t know about 


people just think I appear on TV as a 
idical clown who throws money around 
and has long hair and acts crazy. This 
underground stuli isn't glamorous, but 
what most people don't know is that I've 
been practicing for it all my Ше. 


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